#I really enjoyed the flat colours on this one not gonna lie

[omaano]

Someone's either gonna get shot or burnt nice and crispy. Or both.

Or - Lil Firestarter is growing! And he's got a scarf of his own now! (here he is as Charmander. He's very baby :3)

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Alright, here we go

First and foremost I want to talk about what flying bark's animation has meant to me.

In a world where every day I see 2d animation being rejected for cheaper 3d and puppet animation at every turn, Monkie Kid's animation was the one of the first things that gave me hope for the future of 2D animation. I can't tell you how long I've been wanting a 2D animated show, growing up I wanted one so desperately, I craved good animation amongst the stiff 3D and flat storytelling, so when I got it, when Monkie Kid happened, I was so unbelievably happy. It was everything I wanted in a show, gorgeous animation, excellent voice actors, romance free and friendly to my desperate friendship-craving, romance-overstimulated brain and written in a way I enjoyed so much. I struggle to describe exactly how much I’ve adored everything this show has been up until this point. It truly is a masterpiece.

Monkie kid has kept me company during the lowest and roughest points in my life. I got to such a bad place mentally but Monkie Kid’s fast-paced, snappy, detailed, colourful bright animation brought light into my darkest mental times and not only helped me stay connected with people but kept me creating even when I wanted nothing more than to lay on the floor and never move again. I'm aware most of the flying bark team is active on the bird app and none of them are gonna see this most likely but I still just wanted to say thank you. Thank you so much for animating this show, thank you so much for giving it your all. Thank you so much for giving me something I’ve always wanted so perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for keeping me company at my lowest, thank you for sharing your joy of animation so I could catch some of those rays of sunlight and feel a little of that joy too. Thank you for your positivity and good vibes, thank you. 

I know so many people have gotten inspiration from flying bark and I have to add myself to the infinite list. My art has improved so much thanks to their inspiration. My style has developed, I’ve had so much fun, I’ve written some of my favorite works ever based off of expressions that the characters make alone. My last amv I made because I was so grateful for the animation that we'd gotten up to that point. I wanted to showcase, to thank, to appreciate. I didn’t know it would be a goodbye. Words can't describe all that flying bark's animation and even their storyboards have done for me. When nothing could make me happy, monkie kid wormed its way into my brain and somehow kept me in one piece. I know that wouldn’t have been possible without the animation that left me at the edge of my seat, breathless and laughing over how incredible it really was every single time. Every new clip, every new episode I’d pause and rewatch again, I’d rewatch over and over, I’d take screenshots of every goofy background character, I’d screenshot every expression I could, I’d go through episodes frame-by-frame, literally one at a time for hours on end just so i could catch every detail, I’d open my eyes wider and wider to try and take in every bit I could in a way I’ve never been able to do before because there is nothing else out there like monkie kid. There was nothing as fun and as joyful as every single frame that flying bark gave us. And I am going to miss that so much.

The fact that season 4 was a sendoff is so heartbreaking to me, it's hard to describe how devastated I feel knowing something that kept hold of my hand when I was facing hard hard things in my life is suddenly gone. I don’t know how to ever express how important this show has been to me, it’s kept me going and helped me get to a place where I could breathe again. It’s connected me with some of the greatest people I know. It’s given me incredible experiences, introduced me to what animation could be and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt having to say goodbye so suddenly. 

I know this isn’t the end of Monkie Kid as a show. I know season 5 is still coming. And I also know Monkie Kid has lost a huge part of what made it unique and special, a huge part of its heart and soul. Without flying bark it feels like half the show is missing and although I hope I can still support the show, no one can deny the cavern-sized hole that is left by flying bark’s absence in it. The animation team has such an incredibly positive atmosphere around them that just absolutely radiates from the things they create. I am going to miss that so desperately in monkie kid. I’m going to support every other show flying bark works on, I’m still going to love their animation wherever it goes, but I am going to miss it in monkie kid like nothing else I’ve ever missed.

I do have some other thoughts regarding the new changes in monkie kid but I wanted to keep that separate from the actual farewell, so that’ll be it’s own post and I just want to end this by saying thanks for everything Flying Bark you’ve been a real one. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re already being missed so hard it hurts. Keep those good vibes and keep up what you’re doing. You all really are incredible and an inspiration to artists everywhere. We love this show because of the voice actors, because of the writers, because of the music but a great deal of people loved this show because of you. You’ve inspired a community of artists, you’ve inspired me. Thank you flying bark for everything you've given us, you gave it your all and I’m gonna carry the impact you left on me for the rest of my life. 

LOVE YOU FLYING BARK. Here's to a bright future. Thanks for everything <3 

[secret-ssociety]

ᴅɪꜱᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ

Mírame bonito

Pairing(s): Camilo Madrigal x oc

Warnings: none

Summary: Camilo learns that there is one thing messier than being in love with his best friend: realising that he is

A/N: Writing this I started imagining Antonia and Camilo signing together to you're gonna go far, kid by the offspring and I swear that if I had the slightest bit of talent, I would draw it

masterlist

[ 6 ] [ 8 ]

It would be wrong to assume Camilo was the kind of kid that enjoyed going to school, the ordeal was as boring as it was annoying, but there was one thing that he hated more than going to school itself: how late Antonia always made him.

She was usually a really timely person, showing up at the indicated hour for everything unless something completely out of her power delayed her. It was Camilo who, on the other hand, had to be instructed to arrive places earlier to have him get there on time.

But school, school made the roles reverse. Antonia was so careless with the entrance hour, she made Camilo stress over not being there in time.

And she couldn't even blame her delay on Mateo, because the kid was standing beside him, chatting away with Antonio while the older boy scratched his eyebrow compulsively.

"Mi vida, please!" He pleaded trying not to sound angsty, making the two young boys stifle their laughs on their forms not very subtly. "What are you two laughing at? You're going to be late too."

"When your vida comes down," Mateo ignored his question, printing a mocking tone into the nickname, "will we have to ignore that you look at her pretty?"

Camilo arched an eyebrow, taken back by the question. "Look at her pretty?"

"Like papá looks at mamá." Antonio explained.

He felt a rush of blood coming up from his neck at the comparison. When Félix looked at Pepa it was like the world stopped spinning, it was more of a gaze, an urge nurtured by some sort of romantic obsession, like the smallest glance at her made him fall in love all over again, he had grown up seeing that look.

It would be a flat out lie to say there wasn't something special in the way he looked at Antonia, a particular glint, Camilo knew that, but to say that it was the same look his dad gave his mom was a lot. He looked at her like someone looks at their best friend.

"Camilo, I can feel your exasperation from my room," Antonia said with mockery, coming down the stairs with a bunch of clothes hanged on her forearms. Alright, maybe he looked at her like the pretty girl that happened to be his best friend.

Antonia always wore a white top and the colours of her skirt were usually warm, with special occasions when the fabric of it had beautiful patterns that resembled fish or flowers. She had a particular skirt that Camilo liked with fish that looked like flowers with long petals which she wore for birthdays.

The kids' snickering made him aware that he was staring at Antonia, who seemed to be oblivious as she placed all the wool clothes carefully in a basket, while thinking of the skirt she wasn't even wearing that day.

"Can we go now?" He ushered.

"Yeah, yeah," she brushed off, "hold this." She instructed handing him her bag with school supplies, which he hanged on his shoulder without complaints as she settled the basket on top of her head. "We have to leave these with Claudia." He was tempted to first name her out of stress. "It's on the way!" She said feeling his eyes on her.

"It's not," he muttered but followed her still.

Balancing the basket on her head with one of her hands, she offered the other to Mateo, who happily grabbed it, holding his notebook and pencil on his other arm. Antonio held out his hand for Camilo to grab as well.

The youngest Madrigal had never been one to walk around holding hands with anyone other than Pepa, except for when he was scared, but since he had catched on how often his best friend held his sister's hand, he had started to ask whichever sibling or cousin was near to hold his hand as well. No one ever refused.

For Antonia, the endeavour was quite endearing, although Camilo knew the significance behind it was different for each kid. With Antonio, it was just a soft expression he had picked up from his friend's routine, but with Mateo it was more on account of that argument that often surfaced on the family: the fact that he considered his sister to be a third parent.

Sometimes he wondered if they had always been like that, if Antonia had always perched Mateo up her hip and if he had always waited for her confirmation upon everything their parents said, or if it had started after they all fell sick during their journey to Encanto, when the girl had assumed the weight of her family over her shoulders.

Both options resulted foreign to Camilo, he couldn't remember a single occasion when Dolores had been responsible of him the way Antonia was always of Mateo. He would never so much as suggest that Carlos and Anastasia weren't good parents, but never would he undermine his friend's role in Mateo's care either.

He felt a tug on his hand and emptiness a few seconds later as Antonio ran into his classroom with Mateo following, barely saying goodbye before breaking the hold on his palm. Although ‘hold’ was merely a saying on their case.

Maybe Antonio's hands were too small, maybe Camilo's were too big, but the ‘hand holding’ always consisted of Antonio wrapping his hand around Camilo's index and middle finger while he somehow added his thumb to the equation.

"Your hands are ridiculously big." Antonia stated as soon as he brought up the subject.

Arching an eyebrow, he raised his open hand for her to measure hers against it. It took her a few seconds to understand what he wanted, but finally brought her hand up to his, making sure their palms were lined up. Without warning, Camilo felt the same blush creep up his cheeks upon the feeling of her hand pressed against his.

He gulped somewhat subtly, trying to calm down the fire beneath his skin, and fixed her fingers to line them up with his own. Between her tailoring, her mother's obsession with cleaning and her occasional harvesting with her father, Antonia's schedule didn't run short on manual work, so her hands weren't exactly small, but Camilo's were almost two inches bigger.

Antonia looked at him, the words ‘told you so’ written all over her face, but he remained silent. Not only did he not want to admit his hands were significantly big, her dark eyes had a bad habit of entrancing him. Never in his life he had seen eyes as dark as hers, so black the pupil nearly seemed to melt into the iris.

Mirabel plopped down on her seat, cutting off the moment, and panting from exhaustion. Soon they would be finishing school and Mirabel wanted to help as much as she could on her last year, it was like she provided the intention for school that Antonia lacked. Not long after, the teacher walked in the room and all conversations were cut short.

Camilo really wanted to honour his routine of trying sort of hard to pay attention to whatever topic the teacher was rambling about, but the children's assumption had pulled him into a train of thought he had no hope getting off of. Suddenly he couldn't help but call himself out in the way he got lost into his best friend.

In a matter of two hours he became aware of all the things he unconsciously knew about her, like the exact place she parted her long curly hair and the average length it must have when it was wet, which was probably a little more than Isabela's, or the exact positioning of the five moles across her face and the different shapes they would form if he connected them all.

He just stared at her, rather stupidly, rather shamelessly, stared into the apparent obliviousness of the girl being stared, enraptured in all the smallest things he usually overlooked. The way she readjusted the pencil on her hand every once in a while. How her feet shifted following an imaginary beat. When she stretched, the curve of her neck. The slip of her spine.

"What is it, Camilo?" She finally asked, acquiring some colour on her cheeks.

How had he always been trapped in such a longing for her and only now there seemed to be an awareness of it? So many things he wanted desperately to describe, only to find himself wordless.

"You got a booger." He responded nonchalantly, looking back to the front.

Her hand quickly flew up to her nose, only to find he was lying. Trying not to laugh, she reached out to him and playfully pushed his shoulders several times, until he finally grabbed her hand, holding it silently.

"Camilo, that's my hand."

"Not anymore."

"I need it to write."

"Learn to write with your right hand like a normal person."

Softly, she started to squirm her hand away from his hold, but he didn't let go. It was true that he wanted to annoy her, but God, did he also love holding her hand. Finally, she wrapped her hand around his index and middle finger, making him laugh.

Oh, the bickering that awaited for his friends to grab a hold of him, he knew their eyes were laid on the two of them, as they did with every contact between them that looked out of the ordinary. Camilo was the object of their derides since Antonia's first day of school, when they were commenting how attractive they found her and he frowned lightly at the discussion.

That moment came as soon as recess started, when his friends approached them and, after greeting Antonia with the peculiar smile all the boys in their grade had for her, they stole him away. As soon as they were a few feet away, the mocking commenced.

By then, it was already something of a ritual: they would start bombarding him with sarcastic questions in which they referred to Antonia as his girlfriend or his beloved, if they were feeling particularly scathing, they would throw ‘the wifey’ in there. Then it would become even more straightforward, endlessly teasing him about the infatuation he always denied.

"She's my friend." He would always say.

"I'm your friend, too." Pablo responded once. "Kiss me, Camilo." He puckered his lips and made the false attempt to kiss him.

He would usually let them get ahead for a while before mocking them back, putting his shape shifting abilities to use and turning into them, a teacher or sometimes their own parents. Once he turned into Nico's father, who he only knew in pictures, and said "see? This is why I left you and your mom."

They all laughed for about fifteen minutes, Julian even started hyperventilating, but he still promised not to do it again.

Today, however, was different. His three friends took onto his seriousness pretty quickly, their efforts to pull any information about his crush out of him became more pulsing and Camilo would have found it all quite funny if only he had a way to explain why he was so absorbed in her, if only it was simply a matter of ignoring them knowing that he had answer.

"Why don't you just tell her that you're in love with her?"

"I'm sure she already knows."

That answer left his mouth before he had any time to think it through, he stared into pure nothingness processing his words and even his friends stared at him in shock. They weren't actually expecting him to confess, much less so bluntly.

Was he in love with Antonia? It was a rather stupid question given that he had just answered it, but still he needed to ask it again. Thinking back on it, he shouldn't be surprised, from their first conversations when he was helping nurse her back to life he had been aware of the way he gravitated towards her.

Still, the realization that he did in fact look at her like Félix looked at Pepa struck him.

The three boys in front of him looked at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say next, there seemed to be no appropriate response to what had just happened and Camilo's lost stare into the wall wasn't helpful.

Finally, it was Julian who spoke. "You really think she knows?"

And there was the second, equally confusing part of his statement. Had it been simply a defensive way of answering? No, he meant it. Not only that he was in love with her, but that she knew it.

If any of them said they were unaware of the especial fondness they had for each other, one they didn't have with anyone else, that person was to become a liar. Camilo had always been perfectly aware of the peculiarity of their friendship, the distinctiveness of their affection and he knew so did she, it wasn't too crazy to assume that Antonia knew of his love for her.

He shrugged. "Yeah."

Pablo looked out the window, to were Antonia was happily dancing with Mirabel in what seemed the rehearsal of a civic act that had turned into a small party, for the drums that were only used on such occasions marked the beat the two girls stomped the floor to under the flow of their skirts. "Do you think she loves you, too?"

Camilo sighed, his eyes now fixed on the floor. He didn't know. The idea didn't seem that absurd to him, although perhaps he was just fueling his desires, nurturing his love in the possibility that she reciprocated it. "Maybe." Was all he could say.

taglist: @mcueveryday @sylum @solikeapparently @7seabear7 @zzokks @ranzieboo @im-sidney

[helenazbmrskai]

Shush

Wow. I think this is the filthiest and the most messed up shit I’ve ever written in my whole life send me holly water pls (after you enjoyed reading this duh) I don’t know how this idea popped up in my mind one night but yeah don’t come at me.

💊Title ‹ Shush ›

💊Pairing ‹ Jimin x OC (f) ›

💊Genre ‹ adopted brother au, forbidden/unhealthy romance, smut, angst › 

💊Summary ‹ Forbidden fruit always taste the sweetest and when the fruit comes in the form of an innocent boy it’s even sweeter. ›

💊Warnings ‹ emotional manipulation, discussions about an incurable disease, unhealthy relationship dynamics, some fluff, multiple smut scenes filthy so be aware!, mention (and brief description) of sexual fantasies, sub! Jimin, soft domme! OC, teasing, mention of porn watching, brief imagined masturbation, corruption kink, first time, virgin! Jimin, blowjob, handjob, good boy Jiminie, jealous OC, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this be safe!), exhibitionism, marking/biting, almost getting caught, dirty talk, riding, pls keep in mind that this is only fiction! don’t do this folks ›

💊Word count ‹ 6k ›

💊Masterlist

Brushing the snowflakes off my coat’s shoulder, I take a look around the spacious living room soaking in the warmth and waiting for my fingers to defrost, hearing nothing besides the wind that blows outside. Checking the clock on the wall I recall that mom should be still at work at this time around, nothing’s new.

I silently make my way upstairs then halting once I’m in front of Jimin’s bedroom door that has a big J on it. Mom would be upset if she knew I didn’t check on him first thing when I got home so I knocked once then twice before I heard muffled noises from the other side and the shuffle of sheets followed by a loud bang of something hard suddenly hitting the ground. The sound itself quite concerningly rings in your ears.

”Are you alright?” I place my palm on the wooden surface concentrating on the noises that I faintly hear filtering through the door, biting down on my lip as I still didn’t get an answer from him.

”Ok. I’m coming in!” I tell him after a couple of seconds of silence, I gave him enough time to yell out that he’s fine. I’m ready to burst through the door when his voice squeaks out a tiny unconvincing ’I’m good.’ but my hand is already on the doorknob. His body lays slightly off the bed when I enter his room, the bed under him is unmade and his hair is dishevelled sticking to different angles from all the tossing and turning looking soft, wearing only a thin white shirt and pyjama pants to bed. Probably haven’t gotten up from it all day.

”You fell off the bed again?” I chuckle, sending him an amused look spiced with an arched eyebrow – it’s not the first time I see him in this position – shaking my head from side to side, though my eyes reveal that I’m not angry just amused. I grab both his knees and help him to lay flat against the pillows just like he was most likely laying before. His eyes glow like a lightstick with a beaming smile on his face.

”Y/N, you’re home early.” Arching up a brow himself he situates his body to rest his back against the headboard interrogating the cause of my early arrival with a slightly hoarse voice. Jimin looks into a specific direction frequently enough for me to spot his staring. I reply to his statement with a roll of my eyes brushing his hair gently to the side after I checked he indeed has no fever. Giving him the benefit of the doubt that I have no idea he’s trying to hide something I smile back.

I scan through his room hoping to find out by the order of things are placed what he was doing before I got home, it’s easy to spot the differences since I’m the one who usually cleans in here but besides his laptop that sits on the far end of the bed instead of the desk, nothing else seems out of place.

”Why? Were you doing something you shouldn’t be?” I grin, at first the question was intended to be innocent but watching how Jimin’s face contorts into a scandalized look I know he’s up to no good. His expression soon gets replaced with shyness unintentionally a boyish blush spreads across his rosy cheeks. It gets me even more curious.

He gained some weight over the past weeks so his features are almost healthily filled out, the new medication seems to work better than the doctors had anticipated and right now he has minimal symptoms.

Mom must be pleased by the outcome, he regained so much colour to his pale skin too. I witnessed all his ups and lows, I still remember the day I met him. He was in a bad shape, bedridden, so pale and skinny like a skeleton. He couldn’t even sit up on his bed to greet me and when he opened his eyes hearing my mom’s voice calling out to him I came face to face with his teary eyes, hands grabbing his chest to ease the pain that he felt crawling his way up from under his ribcage as a silent tear rolled down his cheeks. He got better when mom decided to take him out of the care system and switched doctors to look after his further treatment.

I regarded him as a responsibility at the beginning of our relationship made sure he took his medication between meals just like my mother instructed. Cleaned his room and made him food when my mother was busy with work. She’s a nurse at the local hospital, she left me alone with him a lot, her job consumes a lot of her time so I had to take care of him almost every day after school even had to take a few days off so I can stay at home when his condition started to get worse and he needed more supervision than usual.

Be that as it may, he had his better days that I started to like so much, spending time with him stopped being an obligation and instead, the time spent together started to be the highlights of my days.

Listening to his angelic laugh, having him listen to me talking about my day. No boy or man ever paid this much genuine attention to me, only him. He has his eyes only on me.

His fierce response makes me come to my senses, dragging me out of my own consuming thoughts.

”Of course not!” He defensively spats my hands away when I try to pinch his cheeks. He looks very pretty when the sun shines on his face. He looks like an angel.

”Oh really? I guess it’s fine then to show me your laptop’s search history. How about right now?” I move faster than he can snatch the device so I’m able to get it and open his tab before he even lets a leg down to plant his feet on the ground.

However, I was not expecting to find something this interesting in his log history. Looking between the screen and his red face I tilt my head to the side seemingly deep in my thoughts. It’s not that I never acknowledged the fact that he’s a man in his mid-twenties and because of his unfortunate susceptibility to having a systemic autoimmune disease he never had the chance to socialise like it’s a norm for most people. The only other’s he meet day by day are my mother and I since he can’t go out because of his photosensitivity.

Maybe I could blame the stars that never flickered out of his naive eyes for the past ten years I’ve known him for not thinking that Jimin could have dirty thoughts. Well, this porn page clearly states otherwise.

I know it’s inappropriate to think about Jimin, my adopted brother, in this way but I can’t find it in me to stop the spiralling thoughts.

Wondering if he masturbates while watching these videos when I’m in school. How he grabs his cock with shaky hands, cute fingers coated in his precum. Wondering if he uses the same hand to hold mine innocently after he did dirty things to himself. I subconsciously rub my thighs together to ease some of the tension that gathered between my thighs, even fantasising about him makes me feel hot.

I feel bad thinking about him inappropriately when he’s sick but I can’t seem to feel the shame when I look directly into his bright eyes now. The rational part of my brain screams that it’s inappropriate even though we are not blood-related.

Heck, not at all as mom adopted him when his last remaining family member, his father died ten years ago.

Jimin’s facial expression is like an open book I read him so well. Poor boy can’t even lie everything he thinks about is apparent on his pretty face.

Afraid that I’ll call him names he lowers his gaze, waiting for me to tell him that I’m disappointed and disgusted by him now that I discovered his dirty little secret that he rubs one out to porn but oh boy he has no idea. That I think about him in a way a sister shouldn’t. That there is nothing wrong with being curious. He has all the right to be. It’s easy to forget he’s older than me when I’m the more experienced one in everything.

”Hey it’s ok,” I get to my previous position, sitting down on the edge of his bed right next to his waistline. I curl a finger under his chin to level his face with mine, showing him a small smile indicating that everything’s gonna be alright.

”I watch porn sometimes too, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here Jiminie. It’s only natural to be curious about it. It’s human nature.” He avoids making eye contact but a tiny nod in my direction shows me that he’s listening.

”If you want I promise I’ll forget that this ever happened. Do you want that honey?” Nudging his pinky with mine I offer him the chance to change the topic to something light.

”You won’t tell mom about it, right?” Nodding my head in agreement I assure him that this piece of information can be our secret and no one has to know that this conversation ever happened. It appears to calm him down gradually as he finally reciprocates my gaze and sighs in relief. What you didn’t expect to hear after that, however, was an explanation of why he started watching porn.

”I want to know how it feels.” Jimin admits shyly, looking around to avoid my eyes as he tells me his hidden thoughts and I find him truly endearing. The previous tense atmosphere seems to completely fade away as Jimin relaxes his muscles against the bedsheet and opens up his heart.

”What? Sex?” I asked, watching his reactions closely as I experimentally place my palm above his right knee. An innocent touch.

Jimin shivers into the contact but other than that nothing remarkably changes in his behaviour or posture. He pays careful attention to not let his feelings show up on his otherwise expressive face. Cute. Sooner or later I’ll know how he really feels about my advances as he can’t keep pretending for long. He was never good at it.

”Yes. They seem to like it so much when I’m watching those videos.” Humming approvingly I rest a manicured nail at the edge of his waistband, this earns a sharp inhale of breath but he doesn’t try to remove my touch that indicates he’s not uncomfortable with me touching him. He doesn’t seem bothered, just a little sheepish.

”You know, a video is nothing compared to the real thing.” I let a single finger slide under his shirt drawing circles into his hipbone eyes watching the way his chest moves up and down a little faster at that.

”What a shame that you don’t know pretty girls to have sex with.” Deciding it’s time to remove my hand I’m letting the limb fall to my side lazily. Jimin’s lips immediately form a pout after I stop making advances on his body, showing me that he was expecting something more. All this time I thought he doesn’t see me like I see him but maybe I was wrong assuming that. Gaining confidence I decide it’s time to push his buttons a little more.

”I’m sure girls would form long lines to get into your pants baby. I wouldn’t be surprised since you are so pretty.” The praise makes his ears bright red, mother did a good job with giving him a boyish undercut a good fashion choice to leave the tips longer so I can easily comb my fingers through it, curling a few strays behind his ears.

”Y-Y/N.” A breathy moan leaves his lips as I kiss the underside of his jaw on impulse, finding stability by grabbing onto his thighs to lean closer and breathe in his clean scent. I push him against the headboard but he doesn’t mind it at all, too lost in the moment, feeling my lips on his throat to register any pain.

I pull away slightly to reconnect our eyes. Jimin licks his dry lips, not having anyone to talk to until I arrived home, he kept his mouth shut only feeling now how dry his throat is all of the sudden.

A ghost of a smile appears in the corner of my mouth as I realise Jimin is watching my lips not even trying to conceal his desire to have another taste of the forbidden fruit. This is so wrong but his lips are so light against mine, afraid that if I apply pressure somehow this moment will end and I don’t want this to ever end but as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever in life.

The magical moment ends when I hear my mother’s voice from downstairs. ”Y/N, Jimin I’m home!”

The cheerful voice of my mother abruptly interrupts our first shared kiss, not letting him chase the taste of my cherry lip balm I place a small peck on his nose instead yelling back that we’re upstairs and we’ll be down in a minute.

”No need to rush,” I peck his forehead this time, giving his face small kisses to lift his mood. It’s comical how disappointed he looks with his nose scrunched up adorably. He really has no shame as he sighs licking his lips to taste the remaining flavour of our kiss.

”We can continue this tomorrow, we have so much time, I promise...”

And continue we do. True to my word I comply with his request pulling the oversized t-shirt over my head to reveal him my black lacy bra and the curve of my waist. His eyes devour the new uncovered flesh hands lingering in the air itching to touch my bare skin but too shy to do it without my permission. He remains frozen in the act. Dreamy eyes watching my reaction to his shy movements silently asking for a sign that it is alright to touch. He’s so curious he wants to hear those noises the couples always make in his videos.

I nod putting him out of his misery cradling his hand in mine to place the warm palm onto my covered breast I guide his movements fondling the flesh, his touch feels good despite the barrier between his skin and mine.

Slipping his hand under the cup his finger comes into contact with my nipple I show him how to circle the bud until it gets erect a small sigh escaping my lips. I had the sudden urge to steal a kiss so I leaned in to grab the back of his neck and crush our lips together no tongue just lips touching sweetly.

I removed his touch to intertwine our fingers placing both of our hands to rest against the bed leaning into his mouth more.

”Is that all that you want me to do?” I murmur the words into his mouth, encouraging him to say more, to do more. Jimin swallows the saliva in his mouth gaze significantly cloudy as he stares into my eyes, shaking his head. He got so far the current thoughts in his head are clearly not about stopping anytime soon.

”What else do you want then?” I press him to answer my question, following the line of his upper lip with my thumb smearing the lip balm that got transferred from my lips to his while kissing, Jimin took a shaky breath before opening his mouth.

”Y-your tongue.” His tongue seemingly came out subconsciously to wet his lips I closed my eyes moaning at the sinful image. He really did his research, I’m about to give him everything he wants if he keeps up with these innocent yet so dirty looks.

”Where do you want it?” I grin moving closer so our thighs are firmly pressed together letting go of his hand to cup his face with both hands. Bending my head to peck the outline of his vein on his neck his pulse quickens under my touch. Pleased to have had such a great effect on him.

”In my mouth.” He squeaks out his response when I bite into his shoulder careful not to really pierce his skin but let him feel a moderate amount of pain mixed with his pleasure. I smooth my tongue where I bit making sure that I don’t leave any marks on his perfect skin. I don’t want our mother to ask questions later.

”Hm,” I hum into his neck satisfied by the answer before lining our faces again to fulfil his wish. ”Open.” As soon as I command his lips part obediently waiting for me to slip my tongue into his awaiting mouth.

”Jimin. Can I touch you?” I sigh into his mouth, he tastes so sweet I can’t seem to get my fill as I discover every corner of his hot cavern licking the roof teasing him before letting our wet muscles touch in a heated battle for dominance. Jimin gets greedy soon as he pushes my tongue back to do the exploration of his own, the kiss turns sloppy and too much saliva. Hands clutching onto the duvet under him grounding his body swimming in euphoria from falling too deep into the feeling.

”Yes, please.” Our eyes open slightly to watch each other my mouth founds the corner of his lips then the side of his cheek and jaw before diving back in parting his lips with my tongue to continue tasting him.

With a feather-light touch, I snake my hands upwards his thin frame and tiny waist feels so fragile under my fingers. I want to pepper his torso with my kisses pushing his body down using his shoulders to see his weight bounce on the bed. But I can’t get so ahead of myself, Jimin deserves to be worshipped like the angel he is.

”Lay down on your back Jiminie.” I smile seeing how obedient he is following my orders without any complaints or questions. He trusts me so much.

The thought alone that he is under me letting me have my ways with him makes my underwear sit uncomfortably against my heat when I move my legs to straddle his hips I feel how drenched I am for him. So pretty and so eager under me as his head rests on the pillows he truly looks like an innocent angel.

I motion for Jimin to raise his arms so I can get rid of his shirt and finally do what I intended to do and kiss his body starting from his collarbones all the way to the line where his pyjama pants hide the delicious lines of his hip bones.

I press kisses of praises into his shoulder blades moving down following the line of his sternum to give attentive licks and pecks all over his stomach feeling his muscles tensing under my lips whines and other sweet sounds slipping out of his parted lips as he breathes heavily through his nose with his eyes closed.

When I let a couple of fingers slide under his pants I realise the lack of material under my touch. He’s not wearing his boxers. The outline of his dick is evident when I look down he’s not that long but where he lacks his grith makes up for it as I can already imagine how good he would feel buried in me stretching my walls so good.

”Do you want me to touch your pretty cock darling?” I don’t forget to ask for permission even though by now I can clearly see how much he wants all this. The sight itself, how his member strains against the concealing fabric is an awfully clear giveaway of his growing desires. Jimin maintains our eye contact with hooded eyes nodding his head fervently before he can confirm his needs with words. His body burns but not with fever.

”I..yes, please. I w-want you to.” Jimin squirms waiting for me to do something that would relieve some of the tension in his joints. His cock feels heavy in my hand ready to sink into my cunt anytime, I can’t wait to put my mouth around it first but I have to be patient. I circle a digit around the tip testing how much precum he has for me.

Holding the digit up to my lips I taste the slightly salty substance humming approvingly. Tugging his pants down I get to work giving a kiss to the tip before coating his member with my saliva so I can lubricate his shaft enough so it won’t hurt him. His whole body shakes when my mouth makes contact with his cock his virgin body overwhelmed with the new sensation the little pleasure already too much for him to handle.

I make a mental note about grabbing some lube on my way home tomorrow so I can be prepared for situations like this. My lips suddenly widen into a Cheshire grin as I deliver the last lick all the way up to the hilt replacing my mouth with my hand.

”Jiminie look here for a little.” I coax him to open his eyes again with a sweet voice. ”Like that darling.” I praise him when his eyes met mine, choosing the moment his gaze connects with mine to use the same hand that pleasured him to glide under my jeans and underwear mixing my arousal with his precum I moan for the show as I rub my clit before collecting my essence so I can use it on his dick giving him the needed extra lubricant.

Jimin’s eyes don’t stay open for long when I finally touch him properly with the intent of making him cum. He can’t seem to keep his moans and throaty whines to himself as I give him a confident grip increasing the speed of my wrist when his whines became more high pitched his body gives away all the signs when he shakes under my touch that he’s close embarrassingly fast but I don’t mind, it’s his first time after all. We can always work on his stamina later.

”Relax baby and just enjoy this.” I encourage him to let go, massaging his thighs with my free hand to relax his strained muscles, slowing down my strokes but give special treatment to the tip collecting the forming precum. ”There’s no need for you to hold back.” I peck his hip picking up my pace again for a few moments longer before taking him into my mouth waiting for him to cum swirling my tongue over the tip repeatedly.

”Y-Y/N.” My name comes out in moans like a broken record when he finally lets all the tension seep away from his body letting the building pleasure force him into submission as he cums into my mouth his body goes limp when the pleasure fades away after I let him ride out his high with gentle licks.

I place the duvet over his sleepy form after I help him back into his clothes, tucking him in as I kiss his cheek to say ’sleep tight’ with the gesture.

I toss the food around on my plate in front of me tentatively listening to the conversation held between my parent and her guest but not engaging, sinking my fork into the broccoli angrily as I hear Natalie’s sugar-coated voice destined for only Jimin’s ears to catch.

She leeched herself onto him as soon as she stepped into this house annoying me with saying stuff like ’you have such a nice brother’ just to emphasise my relation to him. Even my mom takes her side saying that they look cute together.

I know she wants Jimin to socialise, that’s why this dinner is purposefully held in the first place but I can’t seem to show a different emotion than disgust when I look at Natalie trying to woo my Jimin. She will never know how he sounds when he’s about to blow his load or how he would taste against her tongue because only I can see that side of him no one else, and especially not her.

  His ears are red from her constant compliments and I swear I even saw her hand grip his shoulder when she laughed about something my mom said, he shies away from her because he never kept a conversation going on with another girl that wasn’t me or my mom before but that doesn’t mean jealousy doesn’t bubble up in my chest when he doesn’t deny her advances explicitly.

The dinner continues for an awfully long time before I could excuse myself from the table to hide away in my room and peacefully start yelling into my pillow to relieve my pent up frustration throughout this unpleasant meal.

Either Jimin genuinely didn’t have a clue what she was implying or he was aware but fine with it I don’t want to waste any more time and watch her all over him. I continued sulking in my room when I heard a knock on my door grunting a ’yes’ before I resembled smashing my keyboard I suddenly felt the urge to complete that assignment I procrastinated on so I can keep my mind focused on something else.

I avert my gaze from the screen to see who’s my intruder but I refocus on my computer when I see it’s Jimin. I’m not in the mood to talk to him right now since the picture of Natalie all over him is the first image to enter my mind.

”What? Dinner’s over so soon?” I’m careful to use an unaffected tone when I speak up, holding myself back from making eye contact even though I would love to see his face, we haven’t got time all day to talk or cuddle at all since I had to help my mother all evening to prepare for this dinner that was a waste of time anyway.

Jimin stays silent not bothering to answer my question but I still refuse to look at him as I pretend to be absorbed in my work. Even if it’s far from reality when the only thing consuming my thoughts right now is that I want him to tell me no one else is going to touch him only I can make him feel that good. That he wants. No, needs only me.

”A-are you angry? Please don’t be.” I still don’t turn around and looks like it makes him desperate for my attention he thugs at my blouse but I don’t react.

I want him to panic take over his body so he won’t do this to me again. I have to busy my fingers with typing so I don’t move to card my fingers through his locks like I long to do when he lays his head on my lap kneeling on the ground to do so. I don’t push his head away but doesn’t react either.

Half an hour passes in this manner, only my typing is heard in the otherwise silent room Jimin’s head still resting on my thighs hands circling my waist. I’m halfway done with my assignment when I feel Jimin’s nose nudge my centre. I showered after I excused myself from the dinner to blow off some steam and calm down grabbing only a pair of underwear and a shirt to cover my body with.

Jimin placed a kiss on my clothed clit making my body jerk in surprise forcing me with his bold actions to finally look at him our gaze locks as soon as I look down. Jimin folds the sides of my blouse so he can get access to the rest of my underwear following my panty line with his nose.

”Can I make it up to you?” Jimin looks up with innocent eyes that have my stomach twist in excitement but I try not to show him how much he can affect me as well. I’ll still make him pay for his actions.

”So you know you did something wrong.” I scoff but it ends up in a gasp when he licks the front of my underwear without a warning.

I grip his hair to keep him in place holding him close enough so his head still rests on my thighs but not that close to letting him lick my centre again. He’s playing dangerous games right now but I don’t know if I have it in me to be gentle with him.

”You should stop before I can’t guarantee that I won’t lose my control.” I warn him through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a moment to focus on my breathing, his eyes grew bigger for a moment before the previous shocked expression morphs into something else.

He can’t reach my cunt from where he’s restrained by my hands so he licks the inner side of my thigh his teeth nibbling on my sensitive skin.

  I loosen my grip on his hair smoothing the silky locks out of his eyes but he cleverly uses the gesture to scoot forward and have another taste placing a more confident lick stretching the rubberband side of my panty with his teeth sliding his hands over my stomach that was previously so obediently circling my waist.

”You don’t have to do it.” I remind him, feeling out of breath from his kitten licks over my clothed mound.

”I know.” Jimin replies with a sweet smile adorning his face before he pulls my underwear down my legs slowly, watching with interest as I part my legs so he can have a good look at my glistening core.

”The girls from the videos always like it when the boy does this.” Jimin murmurs under his breath absentmindedly before rubbing my clit with his fingertips his digits dipping lower to catch where most of my arousal gathers a single digit nudging my entrance. I part my legs more so he can get more comfortable between them I let him get familiar with my most intimate part before I pull his hand away with shaky fingers.

”Taste it.” I order for him to pop his fingers into his mouth licking my arousal clean from them and he doesn’t disappoint as he does.

Now that his fingers are coated with his saliva I guide it back to my core. ”Want your finger in me.” I throw my head back when he enters, my walls sucking his finger in his movements are inexperienced and uncoordinated but I let him experiment until he gets the hang of it, and oh when he does. His one finger turns into two soon as he finds the best way to pound into my wet cunt curling the digits just the right way to make me see stars. ”Doing so good Jiminie.” I tell him between heavy pants as the rhythmical hard thrusts of his fingers starts to become too much to handle I feel my insides tighten just like my walls tighten around his fingers getting closer and closer.

I open my eyes to watch him lean down his hair tickling my inner thighs as he nestles between my legs licking at my clit while the movement of his hand never falters, the new stimulus that his visual between my legs and his tongue on my nub adds to the feeling, making me come undone around his fingers.

”Stand up baby.” I motion for him to stand as well, his finger slips out of my hole, with a confused expression plastered on his face but doesn’t question my intentions as he obligates standing on his wobbly feet I let him sit down to where I was before straddling his hips.

”Are you going to let me ride your cock? Make you mine?” I ask him using my sweetest tones before slowly kissing his lips making sure to map out his mouth once more before turning my attention to kiss the expanse of his neck.

”Yes. Fuck yes.” The way how the curse word slipped through his mind without him noticing is endearing, he can always surprise me with something doesn’t matter how much time I dedicate to learning his body and soul, he’ll always have layers to discover. These good days sometimes even weeks when his illness hides its ugly face into the background are so precious that I wish we could always be like this.

I situate my body so I can pull his sweats down I pleasantly discover that he doesn’t wear his underwear when his dick slaps against his stomach. I reach for one of the drawers where I know I placed the lube.

I squeeze some into my hand before wrapping my fingers around his fully hardened shaft smearing the lube over him Jimin whines when he feels the cold liquid hit his hot member moaning once I roll my wrist the way he seems to like so much. Have enough of the foreplay I position him in front of my entrance making eye contact with him before taking him in letting him have the chance of backing out.

Jimin’s thighs shake as I take him in fully he tries muffling his moans by biting down on my shoulder so our guests don’t find out what we are doing in my room. With a smirk on my face, I roll my hips getting the best responses as Jimin tries to hold back his cries tightening his hold on my waist to slow my thrusts down but I don’t listen to him as I start to grind down on him letting his member pull out almost all the way before sinking down enjoying how good he fills me up.

I slow down as a knock is heard at my door Jimin’s eyes widen in fear but I don’t let him move an inch as I silently take my seat with his cock buried between my folds he holds back a moan when I clench around him.

”Mom?” I call out to her, my voice a bit shaky but I was able to mask it away enough that it doesn’t sound suspicious.

”Are you alright? Can I come in?” I hear her worried voice, she probably heard Jimin’s louder cries and she thinks something’s wrong. At this moment I’m really glad that my mom is very dense.

”I’m feeling unwell so I’m going to sleep immediately but you go and have fun with the guests don’t worry.” I offer her my reply as I circle my waist can’t keep still as Jimin’s dick feels heavenly it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does seeing how pathetically he tries to prevent my mother from hearing his moans but his innocent facade can’t fool me as I feel him twitch inside me as I talk to my mother while he’s balls deep in my cunt. I wonder if he wants us to get caught or that he would like me to fuck him in front of Natalie on our dining table so she can see she never had a chance with him.

”Fine but come and get me if you need anything.” She leaves with these last words without further protests and I thank her while bouncing on Jimin’s lap silencing his cries by kissing him hard. 

”What mom would think if she saw you in this situation Jiminie? Fucking me while you pretend to be an angel in front of her. Kissing her cheek with the same lips that were buried between my legs moments prior.” I whisper next to the shell of his ear he lets out embarrassed whines but I can feel him enjoy how I fuck myself using him.

My thighs ache as I increase the pace feeling so close again I guide Jimin’s hand between our bodies to make him rub at my clit he does it messily but it’s enough stimulation as I cum again watching as Jimin’s eyes squeezed shut close to reach his own high.

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[cherryatiny]

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉

⩥𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐫!𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳) 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⩥𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐀𝐔

⩥𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐,𝟏𝐤

⩥𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐜𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧?

⩥𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐜𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞-𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬

⩥𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐏𝐑 𝐈𝐚𝐧

⩥𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

08.09.2021

Opening the door to their shared flat with shaky hands, blood dripping down his knuckled, the blonde male almost collapsed on the floor, his weakened legs failing to support him any more.

With a loud bang, his body fell on the cold floor, alerting his [insert colour]-haired girlfriend, that ran to the hallway, being met with a sight of his bloody figure laying on the floor half-unconscious, she let out a sharp yelp.

The girl fell to the ground, shaking her partner's body, to get any reaction from him. „Ah Hongjoongie, who did you get into a fight with this time...“

Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, to help him lean on her so he could walk more easily, she directed her steps into the bathroom. Sitting him on its edge, she began to fill the bathtub with water, to wash off the blood and dirt of his body. „Y/N... I'm sorry“

Without words, she started unzipping his blood-soaked clothes, letting them fall to the ground, already used to having to deal with her boyfriend coming home almost beat-up to death.

Tears filled her eyes yet again as she thought about all those moments, where she was on the border of losing her lover. The aforementioned boy always just shrugging it off with cheap words of comfort.

And that's how their relationship went. He got into a fight, they argued, he felt guilty and made her a song, they made up, went through another short period of romance where they felt like those head over heels couples at the beginning of their relationship, and the endless cycle repeated itself once again.

Her partner undressed completely and sat in the bathtub, the water gaining a reddish tint from the blood that leaked from his wounds. Without a word, she got into the bathtub with him, not caring that her t-shirt or shorts would get soaked.

Grabbing a sponge that was laying near them, she rubbed the dirt off his body. Hongjoong inhaled, preparing himself to splash Y/N in apologies, but her voice cut him off.

„Please, don't make this harder than it already is, I don't need to hear your apologies, please just stay still until I clean you, so I can treat your wounds afterwards...“ Treating the fair skin of his hurt body, she sighed as she looked at her soaked clothes.

Does living like this even have a meaning? Does crying herself to sleep from how scared she is of losing her loved one when he doesn't even care, have meaning?

Sensing the broken expression in her deep eyes, his hand took her in his, playing with her fingers and kissing the top of her knuckles reassuringly.

„I'm sorry Y/N, I'm sorry for acting like a jerk and making you bawl your eyes out at nights. So many times I could've held on I still can't believe I left you alone. Left you alone to deal with all of this, when it's completely my fault. The fault of my inconsideration of your feelings. When you lie down tonight, please get a good sleep in which you forget of all those fights and stupid things I put you through. We'll start a new chapter, I promise.“

Liar.

These words of reassurance left his mouth every time he got into a fight and yet, it always happened again. Not being able to hold the tears in any longer, the clothed figure sitting next to him let out tears, pitiful whines leaving her lips.

„You say this every time, yet you always break the promise, so how can I believe you any longer?“

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

15.09.2021

Colourful leaves falling on the forest alley, the two jiggly walked down the path hand in hand, as they laughed and enjoyed each other's presence.

Approaching a small wooden bench, the two of them sat down on it, Hongjoong pulled his girlfriend into his lap, letting her back fall onto his chest, hugging her from behind.

The girl raised her legs and laid them on the bench, stretching them. Looking at her boots covered by the brownish mud, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. „Y/N?“ humming, she signalised him to continue with what he had to say.

„I made you a song. I realised how bad I was treating you, but I didn't know how to express my gratitude towards you and I'm sorry, I will sing this song to you. To tell you I really cared.“

His melodic voice audible for everyone passing them as he started singing, all the people just captured by those young lovers. Only if they knew, how heartsick their relationship was.

As his voice quietened, signalising the end of the song he composed for his girlfriend, he pulled her into a deep kiss, his hand holding her head in place, as his tongue explored all those forgotten places of her mouth.

„I hope you're not angry at me anymore.“ Shaking her head in disagreement, Hongjoong pulled the figure of his girlfriend into his embrace, hugging her tightly, to replace the warmness his heart couldn't give her, with his body.

„Let's go home, shall we?“ Taking her hand in his, the two of them got up from the bench, stretching their stiffened limbs for a bit. „Aren't you cold?“ looking at the shaking figure standing beside him, he pulled his brown trench coat off, laying it on his girlfriend's shaking figure.

Walking home hand-in-hand, the two of them lived through yet another episode of the cycle.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

21.09.2021

„You're unbelievable Kim Hongjoong! Oh god, I'm so stupid! I always put my faith in you, believing that your aims are sincere, yet you always disappoint me. You're never gonna change! I should just pack my things and leave, cuz it looks like my presence is annoying you. If it weren't for me, you could live your poor life peacefully, right? Getting into fights on daily basis, fucking whores you find on the streets and flushing it all away with nicotine and alcohol while dreaming of accomplishing something in your life, you would like that, right? You know what? I should do that right away!“

Dramatically spatting those words into his face, she turned on her heel with anger in her eyes ignoring the glasses Hongjoong threw against the wall near her to make her look at him. His hand gripping her wrist harshly, turning her back to face him.

„What the fuck do you think you're doing? You're not going anywhere!“ Disbelief filled Y/N's veins. Who was he to tell her what she can or can't do?

„What do I think I am doing? Leaving you, Kim Hongjoong. I can't express how much I hate you, I feel so stupid for letting you use me, I don't want to have anything to do with you!“

Hongjoong couldn't control his emotions any longer, letting his hand come in contact with his girlfriend's cheek, that will for sure leave a reddish mark on the spot.

Y/N yelped at the stinging pain of her boyfriend's hand slapping her cheek. Her hands caressing the hurt place as tears filled her eyes. Realising what he did, Hongjoong's eyes immediately softened, ready to comfort and apologize to his girlfriend. But it was too late...

„Leave the fuck out of my flat! I never want to see you again, we're done. Did you hear me well? We're done, there's not any us anymore, and I'll never be your girlfriend again Kim Hongjoong, actually..., I hope I never see you again!“

Motioning with her finger to the door, she signalised for him to leave, not wanting to look at him any longer, she left the room and locked herself in the bedroom, falling on the bed and bringing her knees to her face, nuzzling her face into the created space, bawling her eyes out.

Absorbing the said words, Hongjoong finally understood the weight of his actions, this time it was really the end. Smashing the front door loudly enough for the crying woman to hear, he dived into the darkness on the streets.

As he walked down the empty streets, recalling all the things that happened, he couldn't help but start crying himself. Sitting down in the middle of the road, not caring if any car drove him over anymore. Life without his lover was meaningless for him...

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

18.11.2021

Sitting down on the metallic fence near the train station, he pulled the lighter out of his denim jacket, lighting the addictive stick in his shaking hands. Inhaling the relieving substance, he sighed, trying to pour the stress of his mind.

The first weeks after the break up with his past lover Y/N were hard, he lost faith in everything, barely living through, he then met a couple of boys that helped him get back on track. They put a roof over his head and helped him pursue his dream of becoming successful in music, he was truly thankful towards them.

Taking another inhale, he looked around, observing the people that were approaching the train station. Thinking about how all of them were hiding a different story, his eyes fell on an oddly familiar figure.

The figure he thought he would never see again. As the girl turned around, trying to figure out where to go, her eyes fell on him, locking eye contact.

He heard that Y/N was leaving town in a few days, pursuing her happy ending in a new place. A place that didn't wound her as much as this one did. Hongjoong smiled at her, his eyes motioning for her to come over.

With a hesitantly uncomfortable look in her eyes, she approached his figure that was still sitting on the fence, scared as to what might happen. „Y/N, long time no see.“ smiling at him lightly, she looked down rather than to look to those eyes she once loved.

„Hey girl, I heard you seem to be happy now,... how you doin'? I heard you're leaving town,... it might not matter now, but maybe it worked somehow, but I really changed this time. I know you have no intention of coming back to me and I can't blame you for that, but I couldn't live peacefully if I didn't say my sincere apology to you for the last time. I lived horribly before, but I found people who helped me and now I'm living a life that I enjoy. That's what I tell myself: she'll never know how much I wished I never let you go. Thinking of this, it tore me down to pieces.“

Looking at him with glistening eyes, she could hear the sincerity in his words for the first time in a long time.

„Ah yes Joong, you're right, I'm leaving town soon, starting a new life somewhere else. I may seem happy now, but it's not like that all the time, some wounds take time to be healed, but I'm better, how about you? I'm pleased to hear that you decided to change your life and I'm sorry for letting you go without giving you space to explain yourself, but you must understand it had to be done. Our relationship was hatred and it was destined to break sooner or later.“

Nodding in agreement to her aching but truthful words, he took an inhale from his cigarette for the last time, throwing the cigarette stub onto the ground and stepping on it to smoosh it.

„Don't worry 'bout me 'cause I'm doing fine. Although the first weeks afterwards, I came to the street you live in every day, just standing there in front of your flat and looking into the room we once shared. But I'm doing fine, girl, I swear it's not a lie.“

„I saw you a few times, the smoke coming from your cigarettes always reached my window, that's when I immediately knew you were there...so you came around my house, and you left your marks with your fingertips, I was always thinking: I'm sitting where you sat down and now he's looking for something meaningless... I'm getting a little nervous talking to you... it feels like I'm getting to the surface“

Absorbing each other's words, the two of them stood opposite of each other, their heads tilted down, as they regretted their past manoeuvres. He's getting a little nervous and she's finally getting to the surface.

„I got a little nervous of running back to you when you weren't there Y/N.. and I'm sorry, I was hurting too much to know, that you were standing right there. And I'm sorry, when I left you all alone, girl. It's time I should probably let you go and forget about a jerk who hurt you as much as I did. I know that wasn't fair 'cause I loved you. He loved you, the man who you hate sincerely loved you, even though he didn't express it in time...“

„Bye Kim Hongjoong. Stand tall and pursue your dreams.“ Bidding goodbye to her for the last time, he watched as his lover disappeared in the span that was separating them.

[ill-skillsgard]

Blue and Yellow - Part 8 - Axel Cluney

Warning: 18+ sex/mature themes/strong language/medical themes/mentions of blood+injuries/hospitals/violence/drug and alcohol use **In this part: drug and alcohol use, violence, mentions of blood, violence/assault, mentions of alcoholism, smut**

Description: Saberrah Asta, Featherfall General’s newest nurse, finds herself entangled in the complicated life of an underground boxer with a slew of problems she can’t fix. Will Axel’s love knock out the voices telling her to run, or will their explosive romance fizzle as fast as it flourished?

Note: Thanks to everyone who continues to enjoy this series and reblogs the chapters as they come out. I really, really appreciate your support. If you can’t reblog, consider dropping a like and a comment... It really makes me happy and lets me know I’m not wasting my time posting on this website. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

In the ruddy glow of the UV lights, eyes stuck on a woman twirling around a powdered pole. She started the show wearing a yellow underbust corset, a ruffled skirt and a matching bikini top. The music came on, and the corset flew off with it as she sidled up to the chrome pole and arched her back until her crown touched the floor. Sabi watched the sweat drip from a man's forehead onto the edge of the stage. The dancer rolled over the droplet, absorbing the perspiration, and continued bending her body into impressive shapes.

Not all eyes focused on the yellow-clad exotic dancer commanding the stage with her long legs, nine-inch stiletto boots and stiff, blond wig. Some eyes were on the girls swapping empty cups for full ones, some on the women grinding on laps, and one set scanned the floor for lost money. One of the first things Sabi noticed about the strip club—other than its low, dark, and claustrophobic ceiling and walls—was that the carpeting around the stage littered with dollar coins. They glinted under the disco lights and beckoned her pick them up. She'd asked Axel why there were so many toonies on the floor, and he told her it was because people weren't allowed to tip with coins, and since the lowest notes were shiny fivers, the dancers often came away with a day's worth of money in two songs' time if their patrons were generous.

Sabi collected the coins, stored them in the pockets of her scrubs and until she swapped them for gin and tonics.

Arty sat on the other side of a horseshoe-shaped table, gawking up at the dancers like a boy witnessing his first Christmas tree. Only between songs did he shut his mouth and make his way over to his cousin to ask, "did you see that? Did you see her? I think she likes me. Think I should buy a dance from her?"

Axel spread out his hand and waited for Sabi to take hold. When she did, Axel pulled her from her seat and asked for a cigarette since his pack had run out on the trip to Nikki's. They went outside and stood under a neon sign of a buxom woman riding a sausage in cowboy boots. The sign flashed, and the large-breasted rider's hat came off. Axel lit his cigarette first and swapped it with Sabi's dry one.

Sabi looked around the lot, then back at Axel, who leaned against the brick wall, blowing smoke rings into the night air under the deep red glow. The weed had worn off during the ride up and left a residual sleepiness Sabi continued to chase off by flexing her toes and noticing how plain she looked, still dressed in her hospital scrubs.

"So, why do you guys call it Sticky Nikki's?" Sabi asked.

Axel's mouth tilted to one side, smiling as he exhaled. "Most people say it's because the dancers here don't shower, but it's really because of the bathrooms."

Sabi's full bladder clenched. "What about them?"

"Every surface of the bathrooms besides the toilet seats are covered with oil."

She contorted her top lip in disgust. "Um, why?"

"So people don't do coke in there."

"I don't understand."

"You can't bust lines on a greasy surface. The coke will stick and clump up. They've been raided before, so I guess they took that route. Now people just do coke in the VIP booths or in their cars."

"Wow, that's very... Innovative?"

A yellow Firebird chugged into a parking space across the lot, headlights closing before the engine cut. The vehicle caught Axel's attention, and he threw his half-smoked cigarette on the ground to stamp it out.

"Come on. Let's get back inside—"

"AXEL?"

"Oh, fuck."

"Axel! Hellooo!"

The driver stepped out of the Firebird onto the asphalt in strappy silver heels coiling up her naked shins and thighs. Her matching dress ended at her hips, revealing a small triangle of silver between her legs as she walked and urged the dress down. The unforgiving material slid back up as she trotted toward Axel and Sabi, bangles, necklace and dangling earrings jingling as she went. The woman wore a bright pink, faux fur bolero around her shoulders with her silvery hair piled high on her head. Sabi noticed large, pierced nipples straining through the Mylar dish towel of a dress and an illegible tattoo seated between her breasts.

"Oh, Bluebear! C'mere handsome! Give me a hug right now!" The thin, knobby woman threw her torso at Axel, knocking him into the brick wall. He returned a brief hug and dropped his arms, but the woman clung to him and kissed his cheek. She clutched his face and peppered his jawline with kisses. "Oh my God, I can't believe you're here! Did you come just to see me?"

Axel chuckled nervously and pushed her off with two hands on her fur-lined shoulders. The woman ignored Sabi and continued trying to land kisses on Axel's face and hands.

"Marley, calm down, Jesus," Axel said.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're here. I've been thinking about you. You never call?"

"Busy. Always busy."

"Apparently not too busy to be here."

Axel nodded to his left, where Sabi stood, stunned. "You can thank her and Arty for dragging me out."

Marley gave Sabi a quick glance, then turned her attention on Axel with a broad smile full of crooked teeth. "Are you gonna watch me dance tonight?"

"No, Marley. That's weird."

"Oh, come on, Bluey! We're not related anymore since Greg and Juney divorced," she giggled. "I'm fair game."

Sabi fluttered her lashes and scoffed. "Excuse me, Marley, is it?"

"Yeah?"

"Take your fucking hands off my boyfriend."

Marley stepped back, one heel wobbling on a loose stone. Axel pressed himself flat to the wall. The vicious edge of Sabi's voice cut through the din of music filtering from the inside, leaving the three of them in strained silence. Sabi took one last puff of her cigarette and flicked it at the dancer's feet. Her last few drinks curdled her blood and pumped her chest full of adrenaline.

"Damn, you're a feisty one," said Marley with a scoff. "Axe, are you just gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Axel nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. You should go inside, Marley... Before you catch hands."

"And a cold," Sabi spat, ridiculing the woman's outfit with a furrowed brow and blazing eyes.

"Wow, that's fucking rude. Can't believe you, Blue."

The front door swung open, and Arty came stumbling out with another couple of friends who'd driven up to the strip club with them. In his drunken haze, Arty missed the tension and gasped at Marley.

"Mar-Mar!" He approached her with his thick arms akimbo. Marley ducked away from the large man's embrace. "What's the matter?"

"Blue's girlfriend is the matter."

Sabi clenched her fists as the cousins murmured in surround sound. Axel caught Sabi's arm and tugged her back into the club as she twisted her neck, eyes sweltering on the blond woman. Once inside and clear of the entrance, Axel spun her to face him.

"Easy, Saberrah. Easy. Deep breath."

Instead of inhaling, Sabi launched herself at his chest, poking his sternum with a stiff finger. "I'll gouge that bitch's eyes out, Axel. I promise you!"

"No, no, no," he shook his head. "Don't. I know you're pissed, but you can't let her get to you. That's just Marley for ya. She's a dumbass."

"She's gonna be a dead dumbass!"

Axel smothered Sabi in his arms, brushed his fingers through her hair and shushed her until she stopped struggling. "Don't fucking start a fight at Sticky Nikki's, babe. You don't want to be that person."

The multi-coloured lights shifted along the walls and floor, illuminating the couple as Axel held Sabi's head in place between his hands. He ducked to kiss her in hopes some affection might disperse her anger, but it only fanned the flame.

"Who the fuck does she think she is walking up and practically making out with you? Like what the fuck is that, Axel? Have you fucked her before? Why did she do that?"

"What the fuck, Sabi? Of course, I haven't fucked my fucking cousin."

"She sure acts like there's a fucking chance!"

The bouncer at the door caught wind of the heated exchange unfolding between the bar and the tables. He snapped his thick fingers at Axel.

"Take it outside, man!"

Axel nodded, gave a courteous wave to the bouncer, and guided Sabi to a darker corner. "Babe, come on. It's done."

"No, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have let you get me drunk. We're broken up. I shouldn't even be here with you. Look what I'm wearing, Axel. This is fucking ridiculous."

Desperate terror broke Axel's composure, and he gathered her in his arms, clamping her shoulders. "Don't fucking say that. We're not broken up. Please, Sabi, don't do this to me again. I thought we were cool?"

"No, we're not fucking cool! You're a goddamn liar, and your stupid family are a bunch of fucking lunatics!"

"I know they are, I know, but please, God, just don't fucking do this, Sab. We're together. I'm here. I won't ever lie to you again, I swear on my mother's life. Can we please just forget about this and go home? Let's go home, babe."

"Why are you like this?" Sabi moaned. Her head spun, senses awash in cheap beer and liquor, anxiety mounting. She begrudged her furious outburst, but it wouldn't subside no matter how loud her inner reason screamed out to stop. "Why did I ever get involved with you?"

"Sabi, Sabi, please," Axel's tone flattened into a serious line. Sobered and despairing, Axel bent at the knees to meet her eyes, hands squeezing her arms. "Baby, I love you. I love you. Don't talk like that. Jesus, I've never loved anyone in my fucking life the way I love you. I'm sorry I'm not perfect, but please, don't do this to me again. You're just drunk, babe. Come on, we'll go home and sleep it off."

A bubble burst in Sabi's throat, and she whimpered. Close to tears, she buried her face in his chest and threw her arms around him. Axel melted into the embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her in the UV light, white tank top glowing pale blue.

Sabi mumbled incoherently until Axel pulled away and asked what she said. She sniffled and wiped her nose, muttering, "I love you, too. I love you so much, and I hate it."

The bouncer kept eyes on the arguing couple until yelling from outside the club took priority. As the stage lights dimmed and the flaring shower of red and blue sprayed the stage, Axel took Sabi's hand and led her to a row of curtained booths. He pushed her through a heavy flap into a cubicle with a C-shaped couch and a small television on a shelf displaying a feed of the stage. To the right, on a small ledge, was an empty cup containing a few torn condom wrappers. Potlights behind the red leather sofa soaked the space and reflected off the mirrors on the ceiling and floor. Sabi chuffed as Axel pulled her close and kissed her.

"This place is disgusting, Axel."

"I fucking told you! But you wanted to come. We could have gone home and cuddled and went to bed, but you wanted to go out."

"I haven't partied in a long time. Thought it would be nice to do something fun."

"Strip clubs aren't my idea of fun," Axel said.

"What? You don't like tits in your face? Looks like the last ones in here had a great time," Sabi indicated the square foil packets in the plastic cup.

Axel sat on the lumpy cushions and pulled Sabi onto his lap. "The only tits I want in my face are yours."

"But mine aren't huge like theirs."

"You mean they're not pumped full of silicone? Oh, no," Axel rolled his eyes.

"Did you mean that?" Sabi sniffled. "Do you really love me?"

Axel stared up at her with his arms around her waist, eyes blasted open and shining as his bottom lip wobbled. "Sab... I've never loved anyone. Up until we met, I didn't think it was possible. I thought maybe I was fucked up and emotionally damaged. Maybe I saw my parents hate each other so hard, it ruined any chance of me wanting a relationship. And I'm sorry my family is so fucked up. I'm trying hard not to be like them. I've always wanted to do better, and then I met you, and everything changed. I love you."

Thunder rolled through Sabi's skull. The alcohol fuzz and adrenaline receded, exposing an agitated sore through the air of Axel's confession. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Axel returned the motion with a tilt of his head and two roaming hands. He hoped he was in the clear, that Sabi wouldn't turn around and chastise him or claim they weren't together. The unburdening of truth left his chest empty but warm. Axel had practiced his speech in several forms, never once thinking he'd deliver it to Sabi in the VIP booth of a strip club after she threatened to kill one of his cousins.

"Please, Axe, please... Don't lie to me ever again. I want you to tell me the truth about everything. You can't sit here and tell me you love me if you intend to lie again."

"I won't lie. I swear. You're everything to me, babe. Just stay with me. Don't say we're not together... I can't stand the sound of that."

"We are together," Sabi said, pressing her forehead to his. "We're together."

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips.

They stayed in the booth, kissing and holding each other while Aerosmith, Motley Crue and Whitesnake played over the PA system. Sequestered from their group, the couple talked shit about Axel's cousins and poked fun at themselves for indulging the white trash rhapsody they so often condemned. Sabi fought off her sleepiness by teasing Axel until he couldn't stand her grinding and whispers. Still, her intoxication erased all bashfulness, and she climbed off his lap to dance for him when Cherry Pie by Warrant blasted over the sound system.

"Oh, nurse, are you gonna make me feel better?" Axel asked.

"My routine is all method. Nurse by day, slut by night," Sabi giggled.

"I like that. You should get up on that stage and shake that sweet booty. Show those girls what it's all about."

Sabi whirled around, cheeks prickling red. "No way. I'm not dancing in front of those gross old dudes and your cousins."

Axel chuckled until he sighed. "Speaking of my stupid-ass cousins... We should probably find them. I'm about ready to split from this festering anal scab. What do you think?"

"It would be nice to get out of these scrubs. I feel like a total nerd."

"You wear it well, babe. Real well."

The two left the booth, skirted the tables and found Arty engaged in conversation with Jack, another one of their cousins, at the opposite corner of the club. For once, Arty wasn't gawping at the dancers but motoring through an explanation until he caught sight of Axel and Sabi. He slammed his fist on the table, startling Jack and sloshing beer over the plastic cups.

"There you fucking are! Christ, I was looking all over for you! Thought you left until I saw the Monte still in the lot. Where the fuck have you been?"

"We were just talking."

"Marley's pissed. Said she's gonna have the guys throw you both out."

Axel jeered. "Yeah, whatever. Marley's a fucking cunt, and we're about ready to take off anyway."

"Hey, I got a little something, Axe. Wanna pitch on this gram?"

Sabi cocked her head until Arty flashed a small vial he'd been holding in his meaty palm. She looked to Axel, then back at Arty, who pumped his eyebrows. Jack, their younger, skinnier and quieter cousin, hid a grin behind a crudely tattooed fist. It clicked then that the two had already partaken, and the full effects motored through their mouths and tapping feet.

"Man, fuck that shit," Axel said.

Sabi's heart raced. She'd never seen cocaine before, and the thought of Axel snorting drugs filled her with an itchy sensation that wasn't as worrisome as she thought. Memories of overdose patients riddled her brain, drowned only by the glamour and taboo of the powder in Arty's hand. She pinched the inside of her cheek between her teeth and looked up at Axel, squeezing his hand.

"What? You wanna do some?" He asked in a lowered voice.

"I don't know," Sabi shrugged. "I've never tried it before."

"It's really not that great."

"Well..."

"Come on, Blue."

Axel let out a hiss of air. "You only want me to so I'll pitch on it."

"Nah, you don't have to. My treat," said Arty. "You don't owe me for the 'dro either. You guys said you wanted to party, so let's fucking party."

Inside the Monte Carlo, Arty and Jack took the backseats, and Sabi sat upfront while Axel dipped his house key into the vial. Arty and Jack had already tipped a pinch onto the backs of their hands and shot it up their nostrils with ease, roiling their noses around and sniffling as the substance absorbed. The key came out with a small white peak and soon disappeared up Axel's right nostril. He sat back, eyes wide as he sniffled and cleared his throat, blinking wildly until he smiled and looked back at his cousins.

"Jesus."

"Right? It's good blow. None of that fenny bullshit. Don't worry, we already tested it."

Jack tapped the fanny pack around his waist. "Naloxone, just in case. Playin' it smart after Tracy."

Arty sighed, "rest in peace."

Sabi's palms and feet moistened as Axel dipped the key in the vial again and came up with a much smaller amount of powder. He twisted in the seat and handed the vial to Arty. "Ready?"

"Um... I don't really know what to do," said Sabi.

"Here," Axel pressed her left nostril shut with the tip of his middle finger. "When I say so, inhale like you're trying to hawk a loogie."

Sabi made a look of disgust until Axel brought the edge of the key to her nose.

"Okay, go."

Powder shot into her nasal cavity, coating the walls and setting off her salivary glands. After a few seconds, she felt her nose dripping and sucked the fluid back until her throat went numb. She hauled the mucus into her mouth and swallowed, then ran her tongue over her teeth and gums, feeling nothing.

"Did I do it right?" She asked as her eyelids drew back, and the lethargy gave way to an intense rush of energy.

Axel and his cousins tittered. "Yeah, babe. You did it right."

"Am I supposed to feel like my head is numb?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Jack. "Funny feeling at first, but you'll get used to that. It goes away pretty soon."

Axel shook his head. "Nah, there's nothing to get used to. This is a one-time thing. Just for shits and giggles, okay?"

"Okay," said Sabi as Axel grabbed her hand and squeezed.

In minutes, Sabi's top row of teeth pressed down. Her heart thumped in her chest like a spastic drum, and a sudden urge to kiss Axel overcame her. She leaned forward and crushed her mouth to his, only pulling back when a worried grunt left Arty's throat.

Ahead of the car, a muscular man wearing a braided mohawk stomped out of the club with Marley in tow. The blond pointed directly at the Monte Carlo as another pair of men followed out the door. The one with the mohawk clenched his fists and stomped toward the car, snarling viciously. He rose the hammer of his fist and brought it down in the hood of Axel's prized ride.

"I don't fucking think so," Axel said. "Arty, Jack!"

Arty opened the door and was halfway on the pavement when Axel shot out.

"Yo, what the fuck, man?" Axel yelled.

"You piece of shit! Get the fuck out of here, you pussy bitch!" Marley screeched. "And take your ugly slob of a girlfriend with you!"

Sabi choked on her battering pulse as Axel widened his stance, opening his arms in invitation. Axel chuckled at his assailant, which only toughened the menace on his face.

Axel taunted him. "Come on, cocksucker. I dare you to take your shot. I'll give you one good one, then I'll fuck your shit up so bad your crackhead mom won't recognize you,"

"Get him, Brian!"

"You're making a big fucking mistake. That's the Cobra, ya fuckin' idiot. He's a pro boxer! Like, you're gonna die, dude!" Arty laughed.

"Fuck off, Arty!" Marley stepped up to her cousin but met a wall.

"Why don't you go back inside and suck some meth-head cock for rent? Ya fuckin' slut."

The people gathering around reminded Sabi of Axel's illegal basement fight. Their taunting and jeers sounded just like the rousing of the crowd. Axel bounced on his toes, beckoning the guy with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Come on. Hit me, pussy. I want you to!"

Arty wrestled with Marley until the man took a swing at Axel's face. The boxer dodged the punch and reciprocated as fast as a jolt of lightning, throwing a hook that sent him stumbling backward. A stream of blood burst from his nose. With his fists up, Axel cackled and shifted back and forth, throwing jabs to the air.

"Aw, fuck yeah! Come on, pussy! Let's see if you can land one on me!" He stood still and tapped his cheek. "Right here, motherfucker."

"Fuck him up, Blue!"

Sabi had enough. Her limbs tingled while she got out of the car and took a running start at Marley, who was yelling for her protector to hit Axel. She wound her arm, closed her eyes and thrust forth in a blind fury. When she opened her eyes, Marley had toppled onto her ass, screaming and clutching her face. Her accomplices froze, and the lot went quiet for a breath. Then the doors flew open, and 3 security guards ran out. Sabi scrambled back into the car, chugging air and shaking. She stared at her quaking hands and saw blood on her knuckles. By the time the security made it to the vehicle, Axel had jumped in and locked the doors.

"Holy shit, babe. Holy shit!"

The bouncer who had yelled at them earlier to take their arguing elsewhere banged on Axel's window.

"Out of the car, motherfucker!"

Axel threw up his hands in a shrug. "No can do, muchacho!"

He turned on the engine, throwing light over the group. One guard smacked the hood while the others gathered around Marley to help her stand.

"Oh, Jesus, Axe. What if I broke her nose?"

"I hope you did. Now, let's get the fuck outta here."

Axel revved the engine, threatening to pull forward despite the human barricade in front of the car. He laid on the horn, deafening the yelling into inaudible chaos, then revved again. Pulling forth an inch, the guards and screaming members of the Cluney family dispersed, and once the way was clear, Axel peeled out of the parking lot and sped onto the road toward the city.

 The couple hollered and laughed, speeding down the country line. On the crest of a hill, Axel spotted flashing lights in the distance. He slowed the car and held his breath while Sabi squeezed his thigh. He pulled to the shoulder and waited for the police cruiser to pass. Axel watched in the rearview, then twisted around until the lights disappeared. They both let out heavy sighs of relief.

"Christ Almighty... That was fucking insane."

Sabi held up her quivering hands. "I... I can't believe I did that. Axel, I punched your cousin in the face!"

"You punched through her face. Through it. Fuck! I've never seen a girl rock someone that goddamn hard in my life. It was like... All slow motion for a second. Everyone just stopped."

"Oh my God... Am I gonna go to jail?"

Axel tossed his head back with laughter, clapping Sabi's thigh. "No, babe. You're not going to jail."

"What about your cousins? What if they tell the cops I assaulted her?"

"They got no proof. Well, except the epic shiner Marley's gonna have. But it's Sticky's. Nobody cares if some stripper gets popped in the mug. Happens all the time. It's par for the course, baby. Don't worry."

"Fuck, I think I get why you fight now. I feel so gangster."

"That was so hot, Sab. Not gonna lie. I'm totally switched on."

"Me too."

"I'm not kidding. Look," Axel nodded at his erection pressing against his jeans.

The Monte Carlo slowed over a rocky strip, chucking pebbles and dirt into the stream of the headlights. Axel eased the machine to a stop beside a line of pine trees, hidden from the road going South but exposed to the North. He didn't care. Not when Sabi had her hand buried in his pants, toying with his cock. A moment after he cut the engine, Axel whipped off his seatbelt and chased Sabi to the backseat where the stick shift didn't obscure their reach for each other. Once comfortably splayed on the seat, she tore open his jeans while he lifted his hips. His chucks were another roadblock easily vanquished in their haste to undress. Axel kept his tank top on, lifted Sabi's over her breasts, and pulled down her bra to suck her nipples into his mouth.

"Axe, don't come inside me."

"I won't, baby."

He slipped inside of her, senses heightened by the drugs and adrenaline still raging through his veins. The sensation of her wetness wringing true around his length made him shiver and burn.

"Fucking you without a condom is so much better. Christ, I don't believe what I've been missing."

Axel propped her on his groin, one foot behind either seat as he sank low enough to thrust without bumping her head on the roof of the car. A moan burst from his mouth. He rested his palms on her hips and let his eyes roll from the pleasure of the slick sounds, the wetness coating his length, her dew clinging to his pubic hair.

"Love it when you ride me. God, you have no idea how good that feels, baby."

Despite his claims, Axel lifted Sabi and placed her on her back so he could deliver several harsh thrusts. The cocaine seated his teeth together, imbued him with enough stamina to rock until the car joined in with the momentum. Desensitized, Axel continued the motion, hovering inches above her, pressing kisses to her lips and cheeks.

"Do you love me?"

Sabi stared at the man above her, plunging into her, squeezing her breasts and burying his face between them. Some gelled pieces of his hair fell out of place until she smoothed her palm over his crown.

"Yes... I love you, Axel."

"You sure?" He grunted.

"I'm positive."

"Even though I'm trash? Even though you're better than me?"

"I'm not better than you. What are you saying?"

"Yes, you are. You're perfect. I never wanna lose you. Please, don't say you love me unless you really mean it. Unless you can't live without me."

"I don't want to be without you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Promise you'll love me no matter what."

Sabi giggled as though Axel made a joke. He stopped thrusting, laid his head on her chest and took a deep breath of her sweat and perfume. "I'm for real, Sabberah. Don't leave me again."

"I won't," she said in a small voice. "I love you, Axe. Why do you think I'm here?"

"'Cause, we're drunk and on drugs. I'm afraid you'll wake up sober tomorrow and realize you made a mistake."

Sabi propped her upper body on her elbows and clicked her tongue. "Don't give me a reason to feel like I made a mistake then."

"I won't. I won't, baby, I promise."

"Okay. Good. Now shut up and fuck me hard, you bad, bad man."

~*~

The sky was a gradient of royal blue and violet, crisping along the edge of the horizon when the couple untangled and drove into town. Rundown and exhausted from the night's events, they agreed on a local eatery called Ronnie's Poutine Palace for a needed meal. They wandered into the tiny restaurant and avoided the old man staring at them from the corner behind a newspaper. Sabi felt the grease clinging to her scalp, the sleep pulling her eyes, and the vapour from the grills only made it worse.

The restaurant seemed built into a wide hallway with only a few tables and a flaking mural of a chef caricature holding a dripping plate of fries and gravy. Underneath the cartoon chef, the wall advertised forty different kinds of poutine ranging from classic to mixtures that made Sabi's stomach gurgle unpleasantly. They served all-day breakfast and homemade Pogos and pastries. That morning, the pastry case was bereft of any of the advertised eclairs and cupcakes.

A young, gap-toothed girl came to take their order. Axel requested two coffees, a breakfast poutine and then turned to Sabi with shaded eyes. "What do you want, babe?"

"I'll have the French toast," Sabi said.

"Would you like any powdered sugar or strawberries? They're fresh. Just picked them from Cate's Farm yesterday."

Sabi nodded. "Sold. Uh, hold the sugar, though. Just berries. And maple syrup, please, if you have it."

"Of course."

Axel pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and instructed the girl to keep the change, then added a few dollars to the tip jar. Sabi rooted around in her pockets and found a sticky toonie to add.

"That's nice of you," Sabi commented.

"This place has cured some major hangovers in my day. I owe them my life."

The girl at the counter nodded. "We're open twenty-four hours and deliver all night. This city runs on our poutine."

Axel smiled, wheeling Sabi to a table near the front window.

They dug into their food when it arrived, Axel hacking the fried egg in half, so the yolk spilled over a pile of the greasiest fries Sabi had ever seen. She grimaced as he poked half a breakfast link in his mouth.

"Why not just have breakfast? Why taint perfectly good poutine?" Sabi asked.

"Because you don't just go to Ronnie's and not get poutine. Look at the size of this thing, and for eight bucks? Come on. You can't beat that."

Sabi prodded a heart-shaped strawberry with the tines of her fork and swirled it in a ramekin of syrup before eating it. Axel pointed at the stack of fried bread.

"Now that's gross. I don't know how you can stomach sugar right now. I'd barf."

"French toast is the tits. Don't hate."

"Yeah, but strawberries in syrup? You're weird, kid."

"You're weird. That yolk is all mixed in with the gravy. And the cheese. It's like slime."

Axel made a purposeful slurping sound, grating her nerves. She scrunched her nose and turned away to chew a mouthful of toast without the imagery.

They sipped coffee and ate as much as their stomachs could handle. Sabi blew her nose into a napkin and paled at the white snot. She sniffed the dried, flaky remnants of coke clinging to her nose hairs and smothered a sneeze with the back of her hand. "God, I feel like ass."

"Well, you look great."

Sabi looked down at her wrinkled work uniform. "I've been wearing the same outfit for a full twenty-four hours. How can you even say that?"

"'Cause I love ya."

"Stop," she angled her face.

"What? I don't care what you're wearing, and neither does anyone else. You look cute. Little rough, but we had a long night, didn't we Muhammed Ali?"

"Don't remind me."

Axel put down his fork and wiped his face with a napkin. "Hey, listen. Speaking of that... I wanted to talk to you about... The boxing."

"I'm not becoming a professional boxer, Axel. I already told you."

"No, not that. I mean, I wanna talk about my situation."

"Oh," Sabi chirped.

Axel took in a monumental breath, laid his hands flat on the table and gazed into her eyes until he was sure he had her attention. "I want to be honest with you and say I have no intention of stopping right now. I have a few more fights—"

"Wait, Axel, before you say anything, I have something to tell you as well. That night when I broke up with you for lying to me... I was at the fight. I watched you beat that guy."

"What? You're serious?"

"Yeah. I went out to the corner store for snacks and passed the gym you said you work at, but it was closed. I thought maybe you lied and had gone somewhere else. Maybe to another girl's place or something."

"Sabi, no."

"That's just what I thought. I know you wouldn't cheat on me. Anyway, I went around back, and some guy asked if I wanted to come in for the fight. It all just clicked in at that point. So, I went down there."

"Christ," Axel pinched between his eyebrows. "I don't want you around those maniacs."

Sabi pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through a few pictures until she found the flyer she'd found on the street with Axel's face on it. She held up the screen for him to see.

"What about this? This looks legitimate. You said you don't fight professionally anymore, but why not? You could be something if you tried."

Axel shook his head. "That was a while back."

"So, what? You can do what you love, Axel. Nothing's stopping you."

"Plenty is stopping me, Sab."

"Like what?"

"Like money."

"What do you mean?"

Axel pointed at her phone, grimacing. "See, that fight earned me three-hundred bucks. Do you know how much that fight at Vince's got me?"

"No."

"Three thousand."

"Oh."

"Yeah, and that was on the lower end of the scale. Three thousand for three minutes in the ring."

"But what good is that money if you get busted?"

Axel snickered and stuck out his hand for her to take. "Babe... There's a lot about Featherfall you don't know yet. We don't get busted. Half those bets were cops, lawyers, and shit. Bikers."

"Doctors?" Asked Sabi.

"That's another thing,” Axel said. “Farber... You obviously know him from work."

"I do."

"I don't want you tangled in that life, and Farber won't want one of his subordinates knowing his business."

"Little too late for that," Sabi muttered.

"I'm serious, Sab. Some of those guys are real dangerous."

Sabi leered. "Rufus Farber?"

"Maybe not him on his own, but you don't know the types he runs with."

"Well, I know you, don't I? Are you one of the dangerous types?"

"I'm the type that has debts to pay and doesn't want his girlfriend getting involved in the mess."

"What debts?"

"I don't know, just debts."

Sabi sat back in the booth and crossed her arms. "Thought we were being honest with each other?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it here," Axel gestured at the old man at the other side of the dining area staring at them. He leaned closer, and under his breath, said, "my mom owes some money. I'm trying to dig her out of the hole before she kicks the bucket."

"What kind of debt?"

"Sab..."

"Just tell me."

"The house. The bills. Shit, before I met you, the city shut her water off. She's so fucked, she can't work. My dad left money when he died for her to retire, and she drank and partied it away. So, now I'm cleaning up that mess."

Sabi went quiet for a while, and Axel picked up his fork and combed through the remaining fries for bits of bacon.

"I'm sorry your mom was an alcoholic."

"Is an alcoholic," Axel corrected. "She'll always be one."

"Babe... You're amazing. Helping your mom like that is a testament to how generous and kind you are. I just wish you could help her more legitimately."

"Nothing more legitimate than cash, Sab. That, and how much I love you and need you to stay out of this. Let me figure it out. I don't want you at any more fights."

"Well, I don't want you at them either."

"I have to. I'm locked in for another three matches."

"What if I help you? I make decent money. I can help with her bills."

"You help enough already. Keep your money. It's done, babe. I'm in it for a little while, then I'm out. Maybe I'll go legit after, and you can come watch me fight."

"I've seen it. You're fierce. I never knew you could move that quickly."

"They don't call me Cobra for nothing."

Tip me on Ko-Fi (if you want to)

@dreamtherapy​ @reinamysterio​ @skarswhat​ @mightbelindsey​ @sexual-rendezvous-blog​ @billskarsgardx​ @michaeliskindahot​ @tigers-pat​ @rainbowmoosie​ @tinygayfungi​ @pancake-blonde​ @bskarsgardlove92​ @sarah2057​ @ohcaptains​ @loveforbillskasgard​ @vikingsmania​ @billdreamy69​ @lordeofther1ngs​ @theredheadsbookcorner​ @1-800-imagines​ @readsalot73​ @nicolehoran-maybe​ @weirdlilwitch​ @enchantedreadersworld​ @allkundsofwrong​ @loey-bae​ @bill-istvan​ @army-crawl-andersen​ @sunshineandskarsgards​ @beyond-the-ashes​ @whoplansthese​ @evaolii-blog​ @frappylou​ @alylanaeblack​ @billullabies​ @bohemianfortunes​ @moondustmemories​ @terry2227​ @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla​ @alltimesamantha​ @amelia-in-w0nderland​ @thestonerosas​ @skrsgvrd​ @sorryimviolet​ @tweakersqueaker​ @inforapound​ @eff1ngqueen​ @skrsgrd-my-boi​ @rekdreams-fandom​ @b-afterhours​ @anastasiaskarsgard​ @ainatirb-j​ @voodoo-queen​ @quiche-pocket​ @awkward-haux​ @thorins-queen-of-erebor @skrsgardspam​ @tumblingdwntherabbithole​ @xbuckxnastyx​ @skadithegoddess​ @whiskeyxinxaxteacup​ @calumculia0​ @bethskarsgard​ @ohhoneyaaaaaaa​ @ziamhathrisen​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @bitchwelcometoparadise​ @maggiescarborough​ @anacerta​ @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol​ @spitch0​ @grandpa-sweaters​ @mycrimsonsparrow​ @scxrsgxrd​ @angelofthorr​ @xceafh​ @dragsraksllib​

  (If you would like to be tagged or have your tag removed, please let me know!) 

[emetoandotherthings]

"oohhh I gotta lie down" for Jude bc he's dramatic like tha

A/N: First of all, don’t get excited that I’m suddenly writing again - this is an old piece that I wrote that I’ve only just got the impetus to type up... On that note, I hope you enjoy it though! 

--

“Jude?” Eden stretched across and poked his boyfriend’s thigh; Jude was leaning back, his eyes closed under his sunglasses and his mouth slightly open as he dozed. “Jude?”

“Hmmm…” Jude mumbled, still in that sleepy phase.

“Jude, it’s time to wake up,” Eden sat up, the sun lounger that he had been lying on creaked as he swung his legs round and planted his feet into the sand. It was still warm from the heat of the daytime sun, even as the sun was beginning to go down towards the horizon.

“ ‘s it?” Jude stretched his arms, above his head, his back arching, but his eyes still closed. “Was having a nice nap…”

“I know,” Eden said, poking his finger into Jude’s leg again, as it looked like Jude was going to go straight back to sleep. “Jude, you’ve been asleep for over an hour.” Eden told him, check his watch. “It’s about time that we head back and get changed so we can go out for dinner.”

“There’s no way I’ve been sleeping for an hour…” Jude rubbed his hands into his eyes and sat up further, his own sun lounger groaning as the plastic repositioned under him.

“You have,” Eden replied. “It’s just after six – look, the sun’s going down.” Eden pointed out across the beach; it had nearly completely emptied now, everyone else had gone back to their hotels or out to dinner.

Jude swung his legs round, so he was facing Eden, and reached out to grab his free hand.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” Jude said, squeezing Eden’s hand.

The holiday had been a spur of the moment decision – it was just chance that Jude’s school holidays had aligned up with Eden’s reading week, which meant they actually both had a week off to spend together. Only a few days earlier, Eden had arrived back at the flat to find Jude had selected three different locations, looked at hotels and apartments, and price checked flights. At first Eden thought he’d been joking, but it became clear very quickly that he was deadly serious. They’d decided on Tenerife, booked their flights and apartments that night, and frantically looked out clothes and packed into their cases.

“It is!” Eden agreed. “I’m glad we decided to come.”

“Yeah,” Jude nodded. “We deserve a break.”

“Look at those colours in the sky!” Eden’s finger was almost pointing directly above him; the rays of the setting sun were casting orange, pink and purple shades into the sky and reflecting on the deepening blue of the sea. It was as though someone had dipped a brush into watercolour and allowed them to merge seamlessly across a canvas.

“It’s amazing what a change of scene can do, isn’t it?” Jude had lowered his head and closed his eyes, still sounding a little sleepy.

“Yeah,” Eden agreed, then looked across at Jude and gave the hand that he was holding a small shake. “Jude? Don’t go back to sleep! Come on, we need to go back and get ready for dinner!”

“Hmmm?” Jude’s head bobbed up again. “I know. It’s just been a long day…”

Eden frowned slightly, it hadn’t really been that long day… They’d slept relatively late, ambled down to a beachside bar and had some lunch and sangria.

They’d possibly had a bit too much, because by the time they’d left in the early afternoon, they were giggly and jaunty – taking a walk right along the beach front, occasionally running back and forth from the waves hand in hand, like little children.

They’d walked so far that the backs of their necks and their faces from the sun, so they bought overpriced ice creams from a van and began their walk the other way, back towards where they had come from.

The sun had still been high in the sky when Jude managed to find some free static sun loungers underneath a canopy of wooden parasols. Sun loungers were hard to find on the beach at the best of time, but to get two together was almost impossible. Eden had bagged them, while Jude found a beach vendor selling pineapple and bought them both a slice.

Eden had laughed and commented that all he seemed to do on this holiday was eat and drink, but Jude had barely finished his pineapple before he was snoring gently on the lounger. Eden had watched him for a little while, smiling at how calm Jude looked while sleeping, before leaning back on his own lounger and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin.

It hadn’t really been a long day, but Eden brushed it off; if Jude felt like it had been a long day then he’d allowed him to feel like that.

“I know,” Eden said, “but if we don’t move now it’s gonna be 9 o’clock before we even get out for dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jude agreed; he slipped his book into the canvas bag that they had been using as a beach bag. Eden had stood up – stretching his arms above his head, then picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder.

“Coming?” Eden asked, as Jude still hadn’t moved from where he was sitting on the sun lounger, and he held out his hand for Jude to take.

“Yeah,” he reached out and grabbed Eden’s hand as he stood up from the lounger.

The two of them walked along the end of the sun loungers, in front of the rows of empty loungers. Nearly everyone else had already headed away and the beach was peacefully quiet, with only the rushing sound of the water flooding in across the sand and then back out. Eden paused for a second, breathing in the salty seawater air and feeling the light breeze across his face. Jude had paused too; he seemed to be lagging slightly as they started to walk again. The grip of his hand around Eden’s felt a little too tight. When he turned to look at him, his cheeks were a little flushed pink and Eden could tell he had spent some time in the sun.

Jude was trying not to hold on too tightly to Eden’s hand; his head felt kind of fuzzy, the way it did when he drank red wine on an empty stomach. But he had eaten today… He’d had an omelette, and chips, along with the sangria, and then ice cream, and pineapple. But the thought of the food he’d eaten hours ago made him feel kind of queasy. In fact, everything around him was making him feel unsettled. His face felt like it was on fire, and his mouth felt very dry. He stumbled slightly on the sand, and felt Eden’s hand tighten to prevent him from falling.

“Whoa, you okay?” Eden asked, stopping and almost pulling Jude alongside him to check.

“Yeah,” Jude lied, trying to laugh, but it sounded oddly forced. “Tripped over my own feet!” Eden seemed to take that at face value, sand wasn’t the easiest thing to walk on.

Jude could feel his head beginning to throb – he couldn’t understand it; maybe he had drunk more than he’d realised at lunch time? But he was sure they’d only ordered one pitcher between them, and they’d shared it – there was no way he could still be drunk from half a pitcher of sangria! It wasn’t even full strength. But the whooshing, thumping in his head was growing stronger, and he was starting to feel his feet and legs going numb, becoming more and more difficult to have full control of. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage like he was sprinting rather than just ambling along the beach. He tried to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath in through his nose, trying to clear some of the weird sensation.

“Jude?” He heard Eden’s voice, but it was reverberating oddly in the space between his ears; like Eden was shouting from the end of a very long tunnel. “Jude? Are you okay?” He felt Eden’s hand squeeze tighter on his, and tried to squeeze back to communicate, but the messages from his brain to the rest of his body didn’t seem to be working too well.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and was steered somewhere, and then forced to sit down, underneath his thighs he could feel cool stone or bricks. He couldn’t tell whether his eyes were closed, or just not working properly; the thumping in his head seemed to be throwing his balance, even though he knew that he was now sitting down.

“Take a deep breath in,” he heard Eden again, and a hand on his thigh, grounding him, “and out.” Jude followed Eden’s instructions, but the swirling sliding feeling was getting worse. His insides seemed to be rolling over and over, somehow connected to his lost sense of balance. He could tell that his eyes were squeezed shut.

“What’s going on Jude?” Eden asked, he sounded worried and Jude felt bad at the concern he was causing.

“I… feel funny…” He was surprised that he could even get words out, but thankful that he managed.

“What kind of funny?” Eden questioned further. Now the whole of Jude felt like he was on a helter skelter, going round and round, unable to be controlled.

“Oooh, I gotta lie down,” Jude mumbled, sliding from the solid stone he was sitting on, down onto warm sand.

“Oh, oh okay! Here, let me help,” Eden picked up quickly, almost cradling Jude’s head and gently helping him to lie on the sand. He could feel the cold of the wall he’d been sitting on pressing against his back; he didn’t quite know why he wanted to lie down, but there was something about being on the ground – there wasn’t anywhere else to fall to.

The warmth that he’d felt earlier had intensified; he felt like he was sitting right next to an open bonfire. He was taking slow breaths in the hope that the unsteadiness would settle.

It seemed to take a lifetime but the swirling sensation calmed around him, but his insides still felt like they were on a rollercoaster.

“Jude?” Eden was trying very hard not to panic, but right now his boyfriend was lying on the sand, and not responding much. Jude’s cheeks and forehead were rosy pink, and Eden could see his chest moving and he inhaled and exhaled. Then out of the corner of Eden’s eye, he saw something – a twitch, or jerk – that wasn’t quite natural. Eden moved a little, and just in time.

“Mmmmmmmhuuuuuurrrrrrggggggllllk…” Jude’s mouth had opened and his chest jerked once more, the muscles in his torso tightening as a gush of liquid vomit spilled onto the sand.

“Oh shit,” Eden had retracted his hands for a second, before returning one to under Jude’s head and the other towards his back. Jude hadn’t been able to warn Eden, it had happened far too quickly; his mouth had gone from bone dry to oversalivating in an instant. He could tell that he wasn’t done – his muscles still clenching and heaving.

“Hnnnnngggguuuuuuuurrrrlllllkk!” Another spray of sick burst passed his lips onto the sand; he coughed, spitting extra saliva out.

“You’re okay Jude,” Eden said, but he wasn’t convinced he was – this had come on out of nowhere! Eden stroked one hand across Jude’s forehead and felt the sweltering heat. “Oh God Jude – you’re burning!”

“Hot…” Jude whispered, trying to stop his stomach from revolting.

“You’re far too hot, and not in the good way!” Eden told him. Eden could feel himself panicking, his chest tightening as he looked down at his semi-conscious boyfriend. “Oh Jude… What do I do?” He looked at Jude, his hands were trembling as he touched one of Jude’s arms. As he did so, the canvas bag that had been on his shoulder fell onto the sand, and with that an idea crossed his mind.

“Okay, okay, Jude, you just – you just stay there,” Eden said, rather reluctantly as Jude wasn’t up to moving anywhere. He rifled through the bag and pulled out one of the cheap beach towels that they had bought on the first day of their holiday.

Leaving Jude lying on the sand, Eden gripped the towel and went charging down the beach towards the water. Ignoring the salty scent from the sea, he dumped the towel in the water, making sure that it was thoroughly wet through. Then he scooped it up, not bothering to wring it out and made his way back up to where Jude was lying. Opening up the towel, he laid it across Jude’s skin, avoiding the puddle of sick as he knelt down next to him.

“Alright – Jude, d’you think you could sit up if I help you?” Eden said, putting his hand back on Jude’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

“Nnnngghhh….” Jude groaned, not particularly able to verbalise anything coherent; but Eden had made his mind up. He had to get Jude back to the apartment – even if that meant having to hoist him onto his back and carry him. Though he really did hope that he wouldn’t puke down him if it came to that.

“Okay, right, Jude,” Eden fastened his grip on Jude’s bicep and slipped his other hand into the gap at his neck. “1, 2, 3…” Eden warned Jude and then pulled him upright; Jude let out a little groan, and his head flopped forwards as soon as he was up. Eden wrapped the damp towel around the other side of Jude, ignoring the sand that was sticking to his skin.

“Uuuurrrggghhnnn…” Jude’s eyes were closed and his face was red.

“Okay Jude,” Eden said, sitting next to Jude and holding him up. “Take some deep breaths.” Eden was watching him carefully, trying to detect any sign of him getting better, or worse. He heard Jude take a few breaths, but they were ragged and gasping. “That’s it, you’re doing well.”

“Hmm! Hmmmrrk!” Jude heaved, his chest jerked and Eden heard the rush of liquid coursing up Jude’s throat. “Hmmmmrrrllllk!” It splattered messily between Jude’s legs, and Eden winced at the way Jude’s belly muscles kept clenching – long after he was bringing up anything.

“Oh honey…” Eden sighed, pushing back Jude’s fringe from where it was flopping into his eyes. “You’re gonna be okay…” Eden was speaking out of hope more than any kind of certainty. “Here…” Eden fumbled with one hand in amongst the debris that had fallen out of the canvas bag. Knowing that he’d be cursing later on that he’d allowed both of their phone to have fallen out into the sand; he found the bottled water that they carried everywhere. “Here…” He repeated, clumsily unscrewing the lid with one hand, the lid rolling onto the sand, then raising the bottle to Jude’s lips. “You just need to take a little sip Jude.”

“Mmmmnnn…” Jude groaned, trying to turn his head away from the water bottle.

“No Jude,” Eden insisted, pressing the bottle back to his boyfriend’s lips. “Just a tiny sip.”

“Don’ wanna….” Jude mumbled, still trying to turn his head away.

“Little sip, little sip,” Eden put his other hand behind Jude’s head to keep him from wiggling away. “Little sip…” He held the bottle just high enough for a small amount of water to pass his lips. “Good, good job.” Eden encouraged as Jude swallowed the little amount of water. “Okay, okay Jude – we need to get back… I think you’ve got heatstroke, we have to get you cooled down properly.” Eden said. “You think you could walk if I helped you?” Jude didn’t reply, instead he simply leant his head in towards Eden, still rather limp.

“I guess that means no,” Eden mumbled, his arm was still around Jude’s shoulders. “Right, well…” Eden was thinking hard, and there was only one solution to the predicament he was in.

Using his free hand, he picked up the debris from his bag that had landed on the sand and shoved them back into the canvas. He pulled the bag over his shoulder, far enough up that he hoped it wouldn’t fall down.

“Right, okay – Jude, you need to listen to me,” Eden tapped Jude on the cheek, “can you let me know you’re listening?”

“Mmmm…” Jude hummed.

“That’s good enough, I guess,” Eden sighed. “Jude, I’m gonna help you up onto the low wall right behind you, then you can sit there for a few minutes, okay?” Eden gripped his hands under Jude’s armpits, holding tight. “1, 2, 3…” Eden counted, before hauling Jude up and making sure he was planted onto the low wall he’d been leaning against. Eden exhaled deeply, glad that Jude was managing to stay upright, if a little slumped. Jude’s eyes were still closed and the red flush across his cheeks.

“Jude?” Eden knelt down right in front of Jude, which felt rather precarious at the moment – he wasn’t entirely convinced Jude was done throwing up. “Jude, I need you to help me with this.” Eden was almost pleading with him. “I’m going to kneel down in front of you, and I need you to wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. I’m gonna piggy back you to the apartment, but I need you to hold tight, can you do that? Jude?”

“Yeah…” Jude mumbled, and Eden could have cried with relief.

“Good, good, right – okay,” Eden gushed. “Let’s do it.” Eden turned around, carefully avoiding the puddle of sick that Jude had already created. “Come on…” He was glad to feel Jude’s arms snaking around his neck, and he gripped at Jude’s thighs as they tightened at his waist. “Good, right – hold on tight.”

Holding so tightly on to Jude’s legs that he was sure he was probably hurting him, but that didn’t matter, as Eden steeled himself and pushed through his legs until he was on his feet. Jude groaned slightly at the movement, but he continued jnto hold on to Eden’s neck, which was reassuring.

“Okay,” Eden said, slightly strained; he wasn’t particularly strong, but this was the only way he was going to get Jude back. “You just – hold – on…” Eden began to walk, stepping off the sand onto the pavement. “And please…” Eden struggled, “try to warn me – if you’re gonna puke again…”

Jude hummed slightly, his head had flopped onto the flat of Eden’s shoulder, but his hands were still holding on around Eden’s neck.

Eden felt like his lungs were on fire. He wasn’t anywhere near as fit as he could be – and he certainly wasn’t used to carrying his boyfriend on his back for so long. He was sure he was receiving some funny looks from passers-by, but he started focusing only on breathing, and his feet moving forward.

Every few steps he tried to remind himself that he was nearly there, his arms were beginning to ache and tremble from supporting Jude’s legs. He was so nearly there though; he could see the front of their apartment blocks. Jude was still clutching on to him and Eden couldn’t tell if he’d fallen asleep or not.

He navigated into the lift, and then out again at their floor; he was dripping with sweat, and he knew had to put Jude down so he could get the key to the apartment door.

“Jude?” He panted breathlessly, when there was no response he gave Jude a little jiggle on his back and he heard Jude moan. “Jude? I need you to try and stand up… I can’t get the key without my hands…” Eden could hear Jude making a small huffing noise. “I’m going to put you down…”

Eden had backed next to the railing at the other side of the hallway, intending to get Jude to hold on to that. Gently, he let go of Jude’s legs, which dropped from Eden’s waist; Eden felt his hands loosen, then let go from around his neck.

“That’s it,” Eden breathed encouragingly; but almost as soon as Jude’s feet hit the ground, his knees crumpled and he ended up in a semi heap on the ground. “Oh Jude…” He sighed, rummaging with both hands in the canvas bag that had been hooked in between himself and Jude. He successfully located the key, stuck it in the lock and shoved hard – as soon as the door was open, Eden went back to Jude.

“Come on,” Eden said, looping his arm behind Jude’s and gripping tight. “We’re going to get you in, and in a cool shower to bring your temperature down.” Eden hauled Jude up, and practically dragged him inside the room, using his foot to kick the door shut. “Come on, right into the bath.” He said, using the light coming from the balcony doors to navigate his way into the bathroom. “Okay…” Eden lowered Jude onto the closed toilet seat, knowing that would prop him up until he could get the lights on. “Right…”

Eden put the bathroom light on, Jude was leaning back – his face and skin still redder than usual. He collected the bath towel provided by the apartment, and found a clean pair of underwear for Jude to change into, he stacked them neatly, before pulling the shower head down from its holder. He had to navigate Jude into the bath first though; he ran his hands over his face.

“Okay Jude, lift your leg,” Eden told him, picking up one of Jude’s legs and putting it over the edge of the bath, then repeating the action with the other one. “I’m going to help you slide in, okay?” Jude was at a kind of strange angle, with his legs in the bath, but it allowed Eden to hook him under the armpits and slide him in. He landed a little harder than intended, but Eden wasn’t complaining. “Okay…” Eden let out a few deep breaths, thankful that he’d managed so far. “Right…” Eden made to turn the shower on, but just before he turned the control, he heard a noise. Turning back to Jude in a flash, Eden saw his chest jerk suddenly.

“Hmmmmrkk! Hmmmm! Bllllahhhhuuuurrrgggllllllee!” Jude vomited so forcefully that it landed on his legs, coating all down his front. “Brrrruuuuaaarrrp!” He let out an empty belch as he rested his head back.

“Oh God Jude…” Eden pushed Jude’s sticky fringe away from his forehead, still feeling the burning heat. “Well, at least you held it in until I’d put you down.” Eden chuckled, moving to turn the water on.

Ensuring it was a cool, but not freezing stream of water, Eden began to wash Jude down. Initially, he was concerned with getting the puke off Jude, but once he was clean, he was using the water to bring down his temperature, even directing the water over Jude��s head and allowing it to soak into his hair. He continued moving the shower head up and down Jude’s body, making particularly sure that he covered all of Jude’s torso and his arms. He went up and down, over and over, until Jude was beginning to shiver where he was laying in the bath.

His eyes were still closed, and goosebumps were forming on his chest and forearms. He turned off the water, replacing the shower head back into its holder on the wall.

“We need to get you out now,” Eden told him, trying to grip Jude’s forearms, which was more difficult as he was slippery from the water. “Please, try hold on to me.” He begged.

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get Jude out and back on to the lid of the toilet, but once he was there he wrapped the large bath towel around Jude. He rubbed his hand up and down the towel, drying Jude off; Jude’s head had flopped forwards and he seemed to be nearly asleep.

“Bed – that’s what you need,” Eden instructed, trying to pull Jude up and struggling to get him to the bed.

Jude hummed a little as he flopped onto the bed, still enrobed by the towel. His cheeks had lost some of their ruddy flush, but he was still warmer than he should be. Eden bundled himself to their sink and poured some cold water into a glass, collecting the cleanest looking teaspoon and carried it over to the edge of the bed.

Kneeling down, he dipped the spoon in the water and then pressed it to Jude’s lips – which parted instinctively to allow the tiny dribble of water to enter his mouth.

“Good, that’s good,” Eden muttered, “just little bits of water – I’ll keep giving you little bits of water until you’re feeling better.” He spooned another amount of water into Jude’s mouth and saw him swallow. “Well done Jude.” Eden settled himself further, his legs already beginning to cramp up from kneeling down.

Jude let out a breath that sounded quite relaxed, and Eden could swear that he heard Jude try to say “thanks”. He smiled as he watched Jude’s chest rising and falling slowly.

It looked like it was going to be a long night.

[warren-lauren]

Lessons in love... 80′sProfessor!Brian May x Student!reader pt1

WARNINGS: swearing, student/teacher relationship, age gap

>Part 2>

Starting the school year by being late on your first day was not how you wanted to start, but alas, here you were already in the bad books with your; let's not lie, gorgeous, professor. After three years of having classes in the same rooms, or near one another, you were taken off guard when you discovered at the last minute your 'Physics' class was at the other end of the building. It required you to run, and fast.

'If you can't be here on time, then don't be here at all.'

Professor May did all he could to ignore you, only ever picking you out of the crowd to humiliate you (which you strangely enjoyed) and to try and catch you out with trick questions. It had been a hard three months but you'd made it to December which meant half of the month you were technically allowed to be drunk.

You stared up at the man in front of you with an open mouth, unable to believe what you were seeing. In a tight black tank top and tight jeans, a couple of necklaces around his neck and a few rings adoring his fingers with his dark curls unruly, looking even more gorgeous than when he's stood up at the front of class, was Professor Brian May.

When your flat mate dragged you out one night before you welcomed the new year in, you were reluctant. You rather be studying, if you were being honest, but your friend wasn't having your excuses and dragged you out behind her.

Then when you saw who was playing guitar and singing backup vocals in the band playing in the bar you were taken to, you were even more reluctant. And perhaps a little horny.

Your friends hadn't a clue who he was, having never seen Professor May so they just thought he was the sexy guitarist. I mean, he was but he was Professor May.

"I need a drink!" You called out to your friend as the band finished.

Your friends answered back with something about talking to the band. That was the last thing on your mind, talking to your sexy Physics teacher after drinking alcohol and having stared at him all night.

"So, you rather be studying tonight?" You let out a startled gasp, looking over your shoulder. "Hello, Miss Y/L/N," Professor May smirked at you as he leaned on the bar beside you.

"H-Hello, Professor May," You whispered, finding yourself nervous as you looked up at him.

He let out a little chuckle before turning to catch the bar tenders attention. "I think you can call me, Brian, just this once, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, hearing your name leave his mouth. You'd never heard him say your name before, it was always 'Miss Y/L/N'. "But, sir-"

"I won't tell, if you don't." He sent you a playful wink before ordering the two of you a drink. "Your friends were saying they had to drag you out, away from your books."

You nodded with a gulp, looking away from him and down to the drink now in your hand. "Much rather be at home right now." You sighed.

"Sorry to be such a bore," Brian chuckled.

You shook your head panicking. "Oh, no, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, love, I was only teasing," He winked at you making you blush. "I didn't take you as someone who'd choose my boring lectures over boys and drinking." He chuckled.

You frowned, "Believe it or not, Brian, but I take my studies seriously." You turned away from him.

Brian let out a heavy sigh, stepping a little closer to you. "Yes, I can see that from your grades, Y/N."

Your frown stayed on your face as you looked back to him. "So why are you so mean to me, then?" You pouted.

Brian smirked, rather enjoying the way you were behaving. "I'm not mean, love," He licked his lips and leaned in closer to you, pressing his lips against your ear. "I'm hard." He whispered.

You gasped, taking a step back from him. He was smirking at you, his eyes filled with something new.

"I should be getting back to my friends." You spun around quickly, needing to get away from your seriously hot professor. You took a step forwards to rejoin friends but stopped, not seeing them anywhere. "Oh-"

Brian took a hold of your hand and began to lead you through the crowded bar as if he wasn't your pysics professor and you'd known each other all your lives. "C'mon, we'll ask Fred where they went."

You held your breath the whole time your hand was enclosed in Brian's. It should have felt wrong, but it didn't. It felt almost, exciting.

"Freddie," Brian called out as he walked up to his friend whom was surrounded by people.

Freddie turned his attention to Brian, briefly glancing to you. "And what can I do for you, darlin'?" He smiled brightly.

Brian smiled back at him, "Don't suppose you know where Y/N's friends have gone, do you?" He asked and looked down to you with a slight smile.

You felt your face heat up under his gaze, quickly moving your gaze down to your feet. It was just the alcohol.

Freddie looked at you once again, thinking for a moment before he nodded, "Yes, darlin'. I'm afraid they left, said you wouldn't mind because you'll be leaving for home soon." He gave you a slight sadened look.

You nodded, pulling your hand out if Brian's grip and pulled your small jacket tighter around yourself. "Oh, sure, right... I was, going to get off, so," You gave Freddie something of a smile before you excused your self. "I'll, see you later then." You gave Brian a curt nod before you left, quickly and embarrassed.

Brian's brows knitted together as he watched you wonder off, alone.

"Who was that, Bri?" Freddie asked as he stood by his friends side.

"Oh, hm, someone... Unexpected." He let out a soft sigh turning to his friend. "I'm gonna get off, Fred. Speak to you later." He said as he began to leave, not giving his friend chance to speak.

Your whole body shivered as you stood outside the pub, searching in your bag for your keys the best you could in the little to no light. Fuck, Lucy had them. You could cry. All you wanted was to go home and get into bed-

"Y/N?"

You looked up at the sound of that familiar and oddly calming voice. "Oh, Prof- Brian," You gave him a shy smile.

Brian let out a soft chuckle as he walked up to you, the door behind him shutting and leaving the two of you in near silence, the soft hum of the music from inside the pub the only thing you could hear.

"Everything okay, love?"

You nodded, glancing down to your bag before you let out a heavy sigh. "Actually, no, it's not." You frowned, "I have no bloody house keys thanks to my mate buggering off." You pouted with a little huff.

The corner of Brian's mouth quirked up, he really did like you this way, all sad and pouty, like you were begging to be taken care of. "Ah. I see." He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets and took a quick look around. It was just the two of you. "Well, how I see it, you've got two options. One, go home and wait on the doorstep until your flat mate gets home."

You frowned up at him. "Like a cat, I don't think so." You scoffed making him smile. "What's option two?"

Brian let out a soft sigh and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "You, hmm, come back to mine until the morning."

You stared up at him, your Physics professor, with wide eyes. He couldn't be serious? "Oh, I-" You had no other option. "You won't get into trouble, will you?" You asked, looking up at him with big innocent eyes taking Brian by surprise.

He hadn't expected you to be worried about him getting into trouble. "Uh, no, love, I won't. We're not doing anything wrong, are we?" He smiled softly at you, making you blush once more. "C'mon, my car is just round the corner." He began to lead the way, not waiting for you to decide whether it was a good idea or not.

He wasn't being rude, he just needed to get some distance from you before he spent longer than a couple of hours with you in a small space.

The car ride to Brian's was filled with silence and the radio playing quietly. Brian noticed you were staring up at the night sky, softly muttering to yourself as you moved your head every now and then, and the tip of your index finger drew patterns on your bare legs. What were you doing?

"It's not much," Brian shrugged as he shut the front door behind the two of you.

You smiled to yourself as you looked across the large living space that was probably the same size of your flat your shared with Lucy. "If this isn't much then my flat is a shoe box." You let out a soft giggle turning back round to face Brian.

Brian let out a small chuckle, "Ah, student life." He sent you a wink before he walked off in front of you, thankfully missing the way you blushed and looked away. "Unfortunately, I only have one bedroom," He sighed as he walked over to one of the two doors on the right, "But, the sofa is actually very comfortable and I often fall asleep on the bloody thing anyway so, for tonight, my bed, is yours." He smiled at you as he pushed the bedroom door open for you.

"Oh," Was all you could manage as you walked into the room first.

You weren't surprised at all when you walked in. It was very him. The furniture was all dark colours, grown up, neatly kept, there was no clutter - everything had its place. You smiled as your eyes landed on a couple of books about space and other sciences, and there was a telescope set up too.

"Would you like something to sleep in?" Brian asked.

"Oh, hmm," You glanced down to your tight dress and nodded. "Please."

Brian smiled and pointed over to the wardrobe. "Help yourself to what like. I don't know what you girls like to sleep in so," He let out a nervous chuckle and turned to the bedroom door. "I'll just be, hmm, out here."

You nodded, waiting until Brian had left and shut the bedroom door before letting out the breath you'd been holding. This was insane. You kicked your heels off and moved over to the wardrobe, pulling it open to have a look at what you could put on.

You pulled out a plain white shirt that looked like it could be a nightie on you. You decided not to have a look for any bottoms knowing they wouldn't fit you. Professor May was a tall man, 6ft something definitely, his legs went on forever.

Once you had your dress pulled off, you took your bra off, hating to sleep in the thing and then slipped the shirt on. The thing came to your thighs, covering everything it needed to once you had it buttoned up. You grabbed a hair tie from your bag and tied your hair back, it really caring how it looked before you made a move for the bedroom door. You were nervous, Brian was going to have to see you like this.

"Hmm, Brian?" You Called our into the living room once you stepped out.

"Just a minute," He answered before stepping out of another door on the opposite side of the room. His eyes widened a little, "Oh, I- Yeah?" He cleared his throat.

You blushed as you looked down at your bare feet. "Am I okay to use the bathroom? Just, need to wash my face and, hmm, what have you."

Brian gulped, nodding. "That door there." He pointed to the door a little further down from you. "Towels and what have you, in the, hmm, cupboard, in... There... Hmm..." He turned back to the door he'd just come out of before looking back to you as you slowly made your way to the bathroom. "Would you like a drink? I've just put the kettle on."

You nodded, "Tea please, sir." You answered without thinking, opening and closing the door without looking back.

Brian walked into the kitchen as he let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. Fuck.

By the time you had washed off your make-up and calmed your nerves, Brian had made a cup of tea for the two of you and placed it on the coffee table. He was sat on the sofa when you emerged from the bathroom. His right leg was thrown over his left, his arms resting on the back of the sofa with his head back.

He sat up once you stepped back into the living room. "Hmm, wasn't sure if you took sugar so," He pushed the sugar and tea towards you on the coffee table.

"Oh," You nodded with a slight smile, moving over to sit beside him. "Thank you."

Brian shook his head with a soft smile. "It's fine."

You shook your head as you picked your mug up and stood from the sofa. "I'll leave you to-"

"Stay." Brian cleared his throat as he sat up . "I mean, you can stay out here, until you've finished." He blushed a little looking away from you.

"Oh," You nodded. "Okay." You smiled shyly as you sat back down beside him.

Silence settled between the pair of you as you sipped your tea. It wasn't as awkward as you expected it to be, must have been the alcohol.

"Do you hate me?"

Brian looked up to you, surprised by your question. "Why would you think I hate you?" He frowned, turning on the sofa so he could look at you.

You shrugged, pouting into your cup. "I don't know, you just, always seem to be mean to me. Nothing I do seems to be good enough for you. I try my hardest, that's why I didn't even want to go out tonight. I really want to do good, for you." You let out a heavy sigh.

For him? Brian's mouth slowly curled into a smile. He reached forwards and placed his tea back on to the coffee table, letting out a slow exhale. "Y/N, you're one of the most brightest people I have ever met. You have nothing to worry about. You shouldn't feel like you can't go out and enjoy yourself every now and then." He smiled, "I'm sorry if I've made you feel like you're not doing good enough, but, I only push you to be better, because I know you can."

You looked up to meet his gaze with a soft blush, your lips curling into your own smile. "Really? You don't hate me?"

Brian let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head causing his curls to bounce. "Certainly not, love." He smiled, "Quite the opposite."

You blushed even more. "Oh," You gulped looking down to your tea. "Well, what it's worth, I quite the opposite you too." You giggled.

Brian grinned with a nod. "Glad to hear it." He let out a heavy sigh as he glanced to the clock on the wall before looking to his tea on the coffee table. "Well, I don't know about you but I certainly won't be going to bed any time soon. Want something a little stronger to drink?" He asked with a soft smile.

You looked down at your half drank tea, biting your bottom lip as you looked up to his hazel eyes. "As long as you answer all my questions about you being in a band." You grinned at him, giggling as he let out an embarrassed groan.

"Okay, deal."

[seodami]

Our story | LSM

Part 1

This is our story. From the day we met till the day we part. Black on white, our most precious moments, never leaving us. I love your forever.

LSM

Genre: fluff, tiny angst

Warnings: 1 swear word oops

Word count: 1644

Pairing: idol!Lee Seokmin x fashion student reader

Note: Yayy this is the first introduction part where you get to know reader a bit better. Let me know other ideas of plots I’m always open and happy to listen :))) enjoy!

Next

Our story masterlist | MASTERLIST

You let out a happy sigh as you sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. The sun was slowly warming up your hair and generally speaking, today was a great day. It was the beginning of spring and you could already see little flowers growing in every corner or see colourful butterflies fluttering around you.

You loved it. So much.

Spring had always been your favorite season. It was never too cold nor too hot.

With a few last steps around a corner, you finally reached your destination. You opened the glass door on which a tiny bell was attached to signify new customers. The smell of fresh baked cookies filled the lovely spring air and immediately let you sight contently once again. You really already loved today.

From behind the counter, your coworker Chohee looked up with a smile and greeted you joyfully like she did every other day you two happened to have the same shift.

It wasn’t too long that you’ve worked in this adorable café to earn some money for university, which was draining literally every cent you earn. It was exhausting at times but you always remembered yourself to stay relaxed and composed. It was for a good reason after all.

You started studying fashion design at university about 2 and a half years ago and what could you say. It was absolutely tiring and weary but you still loved designing all these different clothing pieces with every single inch of your heart.

Your free time was nearly non existent with your job and all the assignments and due dates you constantly had to work and have an eye on. There were days you forgot eating or drinking while overworking yourself immensely, which ended with you waking up in a hospital bed. It wasn’t one of your proudest moments but at least the dress you were working on turned out amazing.

“Today is amazing, isn’t it? I bet there will be a lot of customers today.” Chohee chirped excitedly, looking out the window. You hummed in agreement, having mixed feelings with that new realization.

“I feel surprisingly good today. Even though I stayed up till 3 am. It’s all thanks to your smile unnie.” You gave her a teasing nudge while tying the yellow apron with the sun logo of the café in the middle around your torso.

The girl giggled and gave you a nudge back. “Hey don’t play with my heart that early. I have a date with Sungho later, I still need it.” She grinned at you with that dreamy look of hers.

You shook your head laughing. With that you started preparing everything else for the day to make your shift smoother.

“By the way, how is your mom doing? Do you want to pack some cookies for her again?” Chohee asked you after the first customers of the day ordered.

You nodded with a smile in her direction. “She’s fine. Still working as hard as ever. That was my plan actually. I’m going to go see her later anyways to help her with some grocery shopping.” Helping your mom was never a big deal for you, even if she wanted to do it by herself most of the times. But with working as a house aunty for an idol group of 13 members, it was often hard for her to do the grocery shopping all by herself. Especially when it was time for a bigger shopping trip.

You had told her many times before that she didn’t have to worry about earning money but she kept insisting to support your payments for university. You were always so grateful for her so you were glad to help her out now and then, despite your stressful life at the moment. You loved her for supporting you so much.

“That’s so good to hear. I hope she enjoys our new cookies. I added a special ingredient today, do you know what?” Your nose scrunched up, thinking hard about her special something. “I don’t know... cinnamon?” You took a wild guess.

“It’s loveee...” she giggled and you immediately rolled your eyes with a small smile, which was hard to hide. “Damn you really are in love.” You chuckled patting her shoulder. She let out a long sigh. “Oh yes baby I am.”

When it finally was the end of your shift for today, you quickly changed the apron against your baby blue jacket and headed out without forgetting to say good bye to your friend and wishing her fun on her date.

As you were on your way down the road to your car, you noticed your phone vibrating in your bag. A quick glance told you it was your mom.

You accepted the call with a smile and greeted her cheerfully. “Hi mom, I just finished working. Are you going to the store now?”

You heard her sighting heavily. “Y/n honey no I am actually at the hospital. The doctor said I broke my foot.”

“What? How? Oh god are you okay?” You stopped walking, staring at the ground with a frown. There were the typical peeping noices as we all know them in the background.

“Don’t worry about me, it was just a dumb accident. I slipped on the stairs and fell on my foot. But Y/n I was hoping to reach you. Can you do me a favour?”

You hummed, listening intently. “Sure mom. Are you sure you are alright? Should I pick you up from the hospital?” You would lie if you said you weren’t worried about your mother. It wasn’t common for her to have such accidents or generally needing to go to a doctor.

“No need for that, sweetie. I’m gonna call myself a taxi. But you see, I was heading over to the boys dorms to cook something for them since they must be hungry after their schedule. But I fell on the way there. Could you go over and make something quick for them? I really don’t want to loose my job because of that.” Your heart fell a bit. Cooking for bunch of grown up men with celebrity status? This was definitely not something that stood on your bucked list.

“Mooom... I would love to help you but-“ she quickly stopped you from talking.

“They aren’t even home by this hour. And I’ve told them already a lot about you. So no need to be embarrassed. And you know they are all very friendly. And you could just do something simple like jajangmyeon. They love it. I think they already have all the ingredients at their house.”

Your eyes moved around while thinking. If they weren’t even home yet, this wouldn’t be too bad, would it? And jajangmyeon was really simple and quick. There wasn’t really a way out at this point. You still wanted to help your mom.

“Alright... but if they come too early and see me, I’m out. Mom you know I can’t handle such situations well, unlike you.” You heard a laugh at the other side.

“Thank you Y/n. You won’t have to do it again, I’m going to work tomorrow. And you can do it. You’re such a pretty girl, who wouldn’t love you?”

You groaned with a chuckle. “Oh god mom stop I’m just cooking for them once. I’m heading to the apartment now then.” She laughed and agreed before saying goodbye.

This was really not how you were imagining this day would go but here you were, heading towards an idol groups apartment totally unprepared.

When you arrived, you made sure to ring the bell beforehand to make sure you weren’t intruding anyone’s privacy if someone just happened to be home. Lucky for you, nobody seemed to be home.

With a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomache, you quickly tapped in the password, your mom told you before and entered the flat without much noice. You stood there for a solid minute, listening to any possible sounds before gently chirping a ‘hello?’ into the empty room. No answer. Perfect.

You quickly took off your jacket and shoes as well as bag. With small cautious steps, you made your way to the kitchen. You helped your mom carrying groceries up to the kitchen a few times already so you were quite familiar with the location of said room. Still it felt quite awkward going around someone’s personal space without anyone present and especially without invitation. You know it wasn’t exactly intruding but it still felt like it.

As you started preparing the dish with chopping some vegetables, you remembered the few times you’ve met one of the members. It was brief but still, you remembered it til today. You believe his name was Seungkwan. You talked a bit and he sang your aunty his infamous ‘WiFi song’. It was the first time hearing an idol sing live in some sort of way so it was hard to forget how clean his voice was. And he was nice.

You started softly humming said song, grabbing another potato and began peeling it. It was all fine and good until you heard the quiet squeak of a door. You immediately stopped humming and stared down the hallway towards where the sound came from. Your heart started racing unintentionally and your brain switched to panic mode.

Please just be the wind or something, please don’t be a person, please.

And you knew you were fucked, when you heard someone walking. You quickly looked around panicked, thinking about hiding or running away. Or should you just jump out of the window? Would you get in trouble? God, you definitely would.

But before you could actually jump out of the window, you were met with a sleepy looking and not to mention insanely attractive man. Your heart definitely wouldn’t slow down with this view for sure.

Oh man, how did you even end up in this position?

[magicalshitposts]

The true authentic hopelessly romantic dumbass you

(Prompt from https://atsuzaki-playground.neocities.org/ but it was barely followed, here it is on Ao3) TW: Swearing

Person A wrapping a blanket around Person B when they are sitting on the couch and watching a show.

Link was not a person to get sick. After years of living off the wild and foraging, their immune system was tough, and their stubbornness was tougher. While Robbie wasn’t a particularly convincing man, this time Link was feeling too weak to argue.

They had finally sat down on Robbie’s couch and turned off their brain.

Something was playing on the Enhanced Slate Robbie and Purah had installed in their apartment, but Link was too out of it to pay attention. It was an adventure show? Maybe? Link starred at the ES, they saw the colours and forms but no people, they heard the sounds but no voices. Goddess, maybe they were bad.

Robbie came into the room and stood in front of Link. The only reason they could make out it was Robbie was due to his hair still being up.

Link clearly signed something, but it was too sloppy and filled with tiredness for Robbie to decipher.

“Hey babe. Hylia, you look out of it. I’ve got you a quilt, are you cold?” Link’s brain couldn’t comprehend the words being said but enjoyed the thick southern drawl that came with their boyfriend’s voice. They we’re hoping he’d talk more.

“Link. You with me Hylian?” They found Robbie’s voice comforting. Link felt like they were about to fall asleep.

“Hon-“

“Maybe if they listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this fucking situation.” Robbie muttered under his breath as he positioned Link on top of his quilt.

“Don’t slag of your partner while their unconscious, asshole” The voice of a presence came from the kitchen. Robbie rolled his eyes.

“Could you come and help? Link is a buff knight and I ain’t particularly strong.”

“Awwh, don’t undersell yourself.” Sarcasm dripped through Purah’s voice. She came over and laid the quilt flat against their sofa for Robbie to put Link down on. He put them on their side (something his dad taught him to do if he was scared someone may be sick) and grabbed a pillow to lie their head on. The sides on the blanket wrapped around Link and tucked together at their chest. They looked adorable, being wrapped up like this. Though their ghost white face made Robbie more concerned them smitten.

After getting a glass of water (just in case), Robbie sat next to Link’s head. He noticed how uncomfortable they looked straight away. He had laid their head down in such a way that the pillow looked like a mountain for their neck to climb. Even though the researcher realised this as soon as he sat, he left them as they were.

Although the problem soon arose again

“Seriously?” Purah walked into the living room, taken aback at how Robbie had laid down his partner.

“What, they’re fine!” Robbie got on the defensive all to quick for her to believe it.

Purah was a smart woman, not particularly keen sensed but smart. And when it came to Robbie, she was the smartest in all of Hyrule. Everything about his body language screamed awkward. His feet laid flat on the ground with his legs together. His arms, which usually took up half of the sofa’s headrest, balled up near his chest. Purah knew exactly why Robbie hadn’t made his partner more comfortable.

“Are you seriously too nervous to put their head on your lap?”

Robbie was taken aback by the guess, “How the hell did you know?”

A look of smugness is all he got in return, but it was enough.

Neither of them said a word as the guardian expert looked down to his knight.

“You’re a pussy.”

Robbie looked to her, “and you’re a bitch, what about it?”

The woman sighed, “Firstly – She put up her middle finger – secondly, why are you so nervous? What do you think’s gonna happen?”

Robbie thought on it. He had an answer, a clear and concise one. It was just putting it into words that was the problem.

“I… Purah I really don’t wanna fuck things up with Link. At all. It’s why I’m so careful around them. I don’t wanna do anything wrong.

“You’re different, y’know? You’re my best friend and you ain’t getting rid of me. If I piss you off, you forgive me. If you piss me off, I forgive you. It’s how we work.

“Link doesn’t need to forgive me. They don’t need to just accept my idiocy like you. If they don’t like me or something I do, they’ll leave. And I really don’t want them to leave.”

Purah smiled sympathetically to her partner in crime, “You’re selfish.”

“Fuckin’ what?”

Purah laughed. She truly was blessed with the dumbest man in Hyrule.

“You’re gonna hate me for saying this, so ‘sorry’ in advance. If Link doesn’t like you for you? Fuck them.”

Robbie looked at her, his eyes seething with disapproval.

“But do you know what?”

“What?”

“They do. You’re just too dense to realise because you’re so wrapped up in not being yourself. Case in point ‘selfish’.” Purah ended her statement accusingly pointing towards Robbie.

“How do you know they do?”

“Because you do shit like supress your accent to try and sound smarter, which is dumb in of itself you’re a fucking genius, but I know for a fact Link loves you’re accent. They’ve told me. And I know for a fact they love when you tell them about guardians. They’ve told me. And I know for a fact they love your wildly inappropriate jokes. They’ve told me.”

“Have they?” Robbie didn’t believe her; she’s lied to keep him happy before. He looked down to Link, their neck was still crocked.

“Baby, what do you think me and Link talk about when we go to Gerudo Town? Cause it’s not the latest political statement the Queen’s made. It can be about my job, sure. And Link’s latest battles. But a lot of the time, it’s you. You are our common ground. We both love you more than most things in Hyrule, talking about you is what we enjoy.”

Robbie was touched. He was sure his heart grew ten times bigger with love. “How much of that talking is berating me?”

“85%, but that’s not the point. We love you. And you gotta get stronger for Link, put away your fears. Because I can assure you to Hylia above, you, the true authentic hopelessly romantic dumbass you, is all that Link needs from you.

“Now take that pillow from under their head, for goddess’ sake.”

Link woke up a couple hours later, their neck feeling sore. They drew it to illness, however they felt less dead now, which was nice. What was nicer though was the hands that played with their hair. Soft touches massaged their scalp. They wanted to move to see the face of the ever-so handsome barer of these hands, but they didn’t want him to stop, It was a tough choice. However, the barer was the master at noticing the little things. Link’s breathing had changed.

“You awake?” Robbie’s voice was gentle, as not to wake the knight up if he was wrong.

“Barely.” The scientist smiled at the voice, which was hoarser than normal due to grogginess.

Robbie moved his hands from Link’s head, which caused Link to make a sickly groan.

“Carry on.” It was a request that made Robbie’s heart jolt. He was so scared of doing stuff like this in case it made Link panic. He was scared that he may never be forgiven. But he was being asked to. He couldn’t say no, not so something like this.

But to double check, “You sure?”

Link rolled their head ever so slightly so Robbie could see their questioning eyes. They nodded before turning back to their head back to the ES.

Okay. This was okay. He brought his hands back to Link’s head and continues playing with their golden hair.

This was Robbie being him. The hopelessly in-love fool that he was. He’d give the world to Link and Purah if they let him. And he was truly starting to believe that Link would.

[romantic-barnes]

cheap wine & a paper due at 9

Pairings: professor!steve x student!reader

Summary: After your boyfriend breaks up with you out of the blue, you get swept up by Steve. The Adonis of a man, the measure of beauty, a perfect man from head to toe. But there’s a teeny, tiny problem neither of you know of just yet. Nothing is more exciting than a new challenge. For you it’s college, for Steve it’s to keep his dick in his pants.  

Warnings: none really other than some swear words

A/N: this is just an idea, it depends on whether or not people want me to turn this into a series. if there’s any interest in me doing so then let me know and I will continue this as soon as I finish my series unintended. a thank you to @nsfwsebbie for the title help, love you lots! 

dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

Your first year at college, the first year marking another milestone in your life you hoped to go without bumps all across the road. A journey your parents pushed you to take, begging you to focus in school to be able to get into college. They begged, you obeyed. 

There wasn’t much joy in your eyes when you moved into your apartment outside of campus. If you had the choice you would be off to a different state, but your parents thought it better you stayed in Boston. You knew why. 

A turn of a corner and you were close to your first lecture of the year. You know the professor. An old soul and and even older person. Professor Klein is one of your parents family friends, at least that’s what they claim. The only time they see him or any of their oh so important friends is at the country club. 

With a gentle push the door opened and you stepped into the hall. The majority of the seats already taken, leaving you to take one of the seats at the front. That way you won’t need to squint to look at the writing. You justified the unfortunate choice of seat pushed upon you, you’d rather not be so obvious to the professor. 

A few minutes pass and you laid your equipment out in front of you, notebook, laptop and a pen. Your parents pushed you to chose an ipad, but you scrunched your nose at the thought of writing on glass with a plastic pen. Not that you’re technologically inept, you just prefer typing. 

A look to your watch and the door swung open.. “Welcome everyone!” A cheery voice echoed through the room, the students chatter dying down. Your head shot up looking at the man that walked into the hall and instead of old, wrinkly professor Klein, Steve walked in.

You stood waiting on your boyfriend Joe in front of the bar. Ten minutes past eight. Joe still wasn’t there. You huffed, shifting your weight on your right foot as the other started to go numb. If you had known that he would be this late, you would’ve worn flats.

After twenty minutes, he finally stepped out of a cab, giving you a chased kiss and a half assed apology. 

Inside, both of you sat down at one of the tables ordering a bottle of wine for two. This was both a goodbye drink and also your birthday gift from Joe. 

“How excited are you, finally going to college?” Joe picked up his glass, smiling.

“Well, I am excited, but I’m trying not to think about it too much y’know? Wanna enjoy the rest of my summer.”

“Got it.” Joe leaned back into his seat and you tilted your head.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Look, babe.” Joe took your hands in his. “This is difficult for me, believe me, but I feel like with me going to LA and you staying here in Boston there’s just no way that this could work out.”

You stared at him and laughed slightly. He can’t be serious, can he? “What are you saying, Joe?”

“What I’m saying is, that I think it’s best we go our separate ways, do our own thing, figure ourselves out. We got so much ahead of us, darling. So many opportunity’s-”

“Wait-” you cut him off, sliding your hands from his grasp, “you’re breaking up with me not only because you think we can’t have a long distance relationship, but on top of that on my birthday?” You laughed sarcastically, in disbelieve of what your boyfriend - or ex-boyfriend - just said.

“It’s not you it’s-”

“You, I know.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Joe stood up and you furrowed your brows. He placed some money on the table, patting your shoulder before he left. You sat there in disbelieve, staring at his unfinished glass of wine. This is the end of your five year relationship. A cheap wine and the most terrible time to do so. 

“Excuse me, sorry. I don’t mean to impose, but I kinda just heard what happened.” 

You looked up at the guy speaking. Your jaw slacked at the sight of the man. Broad shoulders, tight muscles underneath his shirt, an ungodly good-looking man. He gestured to the seat that Joe sat in just minutes ago and you nodded. Surprise overtook your face, confused by the possibility of a man like him to want to sit with you. 

“Can I offer you a drink other than this?” He motioned to the bottle and you smiled. “Ok, just a sec.” He raised his hand calling for the attention of the bartender, pointing to his drink. His attention turned back to you with a warm smile lighting up his blue eyes. “I’m Steve by the way.” He chuckled, holding his hand out.

“Y/n.” You were truly speechless. You’ve never been speechless before, not even with Joe and you thought he was the perfect man. The one you would marry one day, but seeing him - yeah no - Joe can go to LA, you had this specimen of a man giving you attention.

“A real dick move to break up with you on your birthday, not gonna lie.” 

“I know, but if he didn’t you wouldn’t sit here now would you?” You had no idea where the confidence came from, but it was worth it seeing Steve all flustered and giggling. 

The bartender came and set a glass in front of you. “Thank’s Buck.” Steve said, before Bucky - the bartender - left to take his place behind the bar again. 

You took a sip from the drink and looked questionably at Steve. 

“It’s a Brookly Baby.” Steve raised his glass and so did you. “To you!”

Throughout the night Steve showed that despite his looks, the fact that he looks like the jock you and your girls giggle about in Highschool, he has a heart like no one else you’ve met before. 

You were practically begging for him to take you home, leaning forward putting what you could right in front of his eyes, giving him the look and batting your eyelashes at him. But Steve didn’t show that kind of affection - no - he walked you home. But it wouldn’t be the truth if you didn’t make out with him against your door. You had him right where you wanted him - needy. 

His dick practically pushed itself out of his pants and you were sure that if Steve didn’t pull back, panting and - there’s that damn giggle again - he would’ve ejaculated right in his pants. It felt good to be the one to have someone in a hold like that. To be the reason they cannot think straight. You exchanged numbers, a promise to see each other again.

That was the night you met Steve and now here you are. 

You sunk down on your seat, trying to make yourself as small as possible, but the fact that you’re sitting front row makes things a little more difficult. Steve’s eyes roam through the room, but his eyes don’t cross yours. 

Throughout the lecture you’re more so focused on keeping your head down, pretending on taking the most intricate notes of your life. Schwirles, different coloured markers, all just to not look directly at him. 

A look to your watch and you wanted to curse your way to hell. Still ten minutes left until you could drop out of college. 

Despite your vigorous note taking, you didn’t catch a word. Nothing you wrote down made any type of sense. Not at all. You focused on your breathing, sitting as still as possible to go unnoticed. 

“You, what’s your name?”

That you did understand. Blood rushed to your cheeks. You knew he was calling on you but you hoped he didn’t. A moment of silence confirmed your nightmare. He was waiting for you, the whole room was. 

Slowly you raised your head, pearls of sweat rolling down your back. The moment your eyes locked with Steve’s the world stood still. The man you were flirting with, showing off your cleavage and drunkenly made out was in fact your professor. 

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.”  

[ part one ]

[ taglist open ]

[butterfly-winx]

Hi, This isnt about the butterfly au but i was wondering do you use any apps to draw your art on and if so which ones due you use? also do you have any tips?

Hey there! No worries I'm happy to talk about art in general as well!

I use Procreate (I think currently V5) on a first gen iPadPro to do most of the art and photosh*p cs2 for any edits, or compiling files when my layers overflow. (I'm not gonna lie, that is the major bummer with Procreate, but the app is well priced and I got no complaints about it otherwise.)

As far as art tips, go I wanted to acknowledge that these are tips I would and also do give myself, so it I am not an expert in any of these, but they are cool things to strive for.

1. Find the workflow for what makes sense for you. Not everyone has to do 2 sketches a lineart, flats and render in that order in every single piece. Experiment around, find what works for you, which parts of the process you enjoy, most importantly. I do very clean sketches on top of loose pose puppets and hate lineart. So I usually don't do that, but I get away with it bc I like doing the detailed sketch phase and "line sculpting" so I just go straight to colouring most often. Maybe you don't either, but for you a lineless style would work better. This is also how you can build style very easily!

2. Experiment with programs and find the one that supports your workflow best. I started off with a pen-tablet and PS/Corel painter and that didn't work for me for the longest time - I guess I never had the necessary hand-eye coordination for laptop and pen-tablet setups. Drawing ON the screen however, whoo boy my improvement skyrocketed. So I would urge everyone to look at what they struggle with while making art bc it might not be you, it might be the setup you use. Sure I could have spent a million hours fine tuning my lines to be straight, but I cold have also switched to a program that supports stroke stabilisation, you know? Also look into available shortcuts and pre-sets: the better you know your program the faster you are, the less likely you are to burn yourself out on a piece.

3. Build skills, but let your interests dictate what skills to focus on. Sure practice is key and you need to draw a thing a 1000 times to understand it, but I'm saying you are only going to draw something that many times if you like it. When I was into series that featured many male characters I beefed up on male anatomy; when I was crazy about a live action show I practiced copying the features of real actors; now I am neck deep in fashion refs and drawing different types of fabric. Find your passion and let it drive you! It does make sense to identify shortcomings and get comfortable with art basics like shape, light and colour, but if you don't find a way to apply it it a way that sparks joy, you risk your hobby turning into a chore (so this advice is mainly for hobbyist), so try not to do that and instead focus on eating your "veggies" and "dessert" as well if you can. Do sketches all day if you want, but you will need to face drawing the other eye or that hand on the hip if you want to see eventual improvement.

4. Collect inspiration with a goal in mind. It's fair and well to have endless lists of inspiring art and photography saved in your likes, pinterest or wherever, but it is good to sit down sometimes and examine why you saved a pic. (This is not for direct references btw). Ask yourself what you like about the individual piece and whether what you like about is something that just appeals to you as a beholder or whether that is something you would like to reproduce in your own art? It's actually a huge difference. I am drawn to stylised shapes and bold colours in art, but I like to paint like that? No. On the other hand I like looking at guache paintings and really taking apart how they were painted, bc that is the rendering style i like to push for in my art. It's a good idea to go cross-media in your inspiration: from traditional art to photography to industrial object design, you can find a lot of things to learn from outside your native art medium. If you found something you really like, you can do a master study of it (absolutely fair to share with public domain, classical pieces, if you copy a contemporary artist, do it for the sake of study and don't post it).

5. Don't compare yourself to others. Yes, I know this is the hardest. If you find yourself unhappy with the reception of your art online, it impacting your joy in creating art in the first place, it might be worth taking a step back. That's what I did. I was doing winx doodles for almost a year for myself only before I made this blog, (and this is far from being my first art blog on the internet btw). This may not be the right decision for everyone, but I wanted to say something other than "just don't give up", bc when you are in that spot it feels like utter bulsh*t. Social media has us comparing our skills and success to a million other people every day, and as harsh as it sounds, it's just not worth breaking yourself up over it. There is also no need to monetise every hobby you have and become the absolute best in it, especially when you are young.

So, to sum it up:

[mollymauk-teafleak]

now that I got it

Happy Christmas to my most wonderful girlfriend @spiky-lesbian who I just love absolutely to pieces. 

please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

Follows on from my Jupeter high school au fic!

-----

Nureyev is eager to take his relationship with Juno further, now that they're both out of high school and have their own place.

But for someone who prides himself on being the smartest, most well prepared person in the room, dealing with your first time having sex can be a challenge...

-----

It helped if he thought of it like a mission. Though Nureyev had to admit, he’d never had a mission that required this particular set of tools.

He planned it all out in his head, down to the moment, the way he’d been taught. Even in the weeks he’d had since that part of his life ended, he hadn’t lost the skills and they helped keep him calm now.

Not that he had any reason to be nervous. He didn’t.

First, the lights. He dimmed them as much as he could, relying heavily on the light from the street outside when he realised they really only had the one naked bulb overhead. But there were the battered old electric candles, left in a kitchen drawer when he’d moved in, clearly meant for the many nights when the power went out in Oldtown. Arranged nicely on the wardrobe and the bookcase and the nightstand, they did help fill the room with something approaching an atmospheric glow.

Next, the flower petals. He only had a loose handful, fair enough, gathered sneakily from the wilting bouquets outside of a flower shop from a nicer part of Hyperion. But when he spread them out sparingly enough, around their bed and leading up to the doorway, it did look romantic. More romantic than the socks and papers and balled up, half finished job applications that scattered the carpet previously had, anyway.

Then...well then there was everything else. He’d done plenty of research, of course, he wouldn’t attempt a mission without research. But still, when he’d found himself actually in the drugstore, looking at the rows and rows of products, he’d found himself grabbing the first things that seemed to fit his description and bolting.

Not that he had any reason to be nervous. And so he wasn’t. He told himself that as he arrayed the small bottle of lube that was supposed to smell like strawberries and the box of condoms on the nightstand.

And finally there was his outfit. When he imagined how he would like to dress for this, he only came up with things that definitely had not been part of his wardrobe when he’d packed for his undercover mission to Mars. It had all been very sparse and functional, nothing remotely silky or satiny or lacy. And he definitely did not have the funds to acquire anything like that.

But that had never stopped Peter Nureyev before.

Looking at himself in the mirror, the nerves that definitely weren’t there retreated slightly. He’d gone for red silk, thinking it would match his favourite colour of lipstick, black lace edging the hem. Now it was actually on him, he had to admit it was a little too big on him, slipping down further than he’d imagined it would, the straps always seeking to slide down the hard angles of his shoulder and collarbone. But he made himself stand as tall as he could, which was really quite far, put a hand on one skinny hip, flip back the feathery fall of his hair and give the mirror a sultry, cherry lipped smile.

And the nerves that weren’t there were less there.

Smiling a little now, the thudding of his heart now feeling like something more exciting, Nureyev crossed to the bed and tried to lie out across it in a tempting fashion. He tried a few, actually, cycling through some that felt suitably tempting, copying some streams he’d seen during his research. Not that he’d watched much of them before throwing his comms to the foot of the bed and hiding his burning face in his hands.

Finally he decided on sprawling across the pillows, leaning back on one hand, one leg bent. That felt salacious enough, though his hand would start to go dead if Juno didn’t walk through the door soon. Which he should do in approximately three minutes. Nureyev had worked in some time for rush hour traffic, which always seemed to be at its thickest when the Academy let out.

He could imagine Juno’s eyes, so tired after a day of training, lighting up when he saw him. He could imagine his jaw dropping and his eyes sparking with lust, his boyfriend pouncing on him in a fit of passion straight out of some classic Earth bodice ripper, making wild and passionate love to him. Precisely as planned.

Exactly when his thoughts turned muddy and formless, Nureyev didn’t know. All he did know was the next thing he was properly aware of which was Juno standing over him, smiling bemusedly and gently shaking his shoulder.

“Uh, hey babe,” he grinned, the electric emergency lights flickering on his teeth, “Did you mean to fall asleep?”

“Oh for crying out loud!” Nureyev bolted up with indignation, so quickly that if his boyfriend wasn’t as quick as he was, he’d have been in for a nasty headbutt, “This was not in the plan!”

“The plan?” Juno blinked, eyeing the now fairly wilted petals and the candles before his eyes snagged on what Nureyev was wearing and stuck there firmly, “Oh…”

Any confidence he’d once felt evaporated quickly, Nureyev pulled his knees to his chest quickly as his skin flamed, “Um...I...I had an idea...but I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep, it wasn’t supposed to happen…”

“An idea,” Juno repeated slowly, spying the condom and lube, the pieces visibly clicking into place inside his brain, “Ah. Right. I get it.”

Nureyev groaned, head falling into his hands, “I know you said we wouldn’t do it until I felt ready and now I’m eighteen and I did, I promise I did, but when I was getting everything ready and trying to make things good and nice, it all just felt so scary even though I was ready and then I tried to surprise you and I messed it all up even through I planned it out and now...now…”

Juno gave a rough chuckle, wrapping an arm around Nureyev’s shoulders, “Now you’re going to take a breath. Because jeez, babe…”

Nureyev did, inhaling deeply and giving a long, shaky exhale, “Juno, I’m sorry…”

“Hey, come on,” Juno shook his head firmly, “You don’t have anything to apologise for. And quit thinking of it like a mission!”

Nureyev pulled a face, “Perhaps not the healthiest…”

“If you were nervous you could have just told me,” Juno pressed a kiss to his cheek that tasted of bad coffee but was needed all the same.

“I just feel silly sometimes,” Nureyev groaned, “You’re so much more confident with this than I am, you know so much more than me and it’s the same for everyone else! I’m the one that's behind.”

Juno paused a moment, a smile tugging at his lips, “Well...I can’t rig up a disguise to pass completely unnoticed in a Saturnian ballroom. I can’t scale a sheer wall. I’ve never even travelled off planet, let alone across half the system by myself. I can’t knife fight a guard twice my age and win without breaking a sweat. I can’t break into an office in the dead of night and hack my way into a computer system.”

Nureyev shifted, smiling despite himself, “ And with a broken heart.”

“Yeah, that too,” Juno laughed guiltily, smiling crookedly, “So yeah, this is one thing you’re not as experience with. But you’ve been living a really different life to me so you’ve had different experiences. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I suppose...thank you, darling. That does make me feel better.”

“Good,” Juno grinned triumphantly, kissing him again, “So if you want to get changed into something comfy, just order take out and watch dumb cartoon streams in bed like every night then thats exactly what we’ll do. But if you want to have sex and you really, truly feel ready then we’ll do that. Because honestly...babe, you look ridiculously hot in that.”

Nureuev burst into giggles, “Really?”

“I mean, you do in pretty much everything. But yeah, in that? You’re a knockout.”

“Well…” Nureyev grinned, tucking some hair behind his ear coyly, “I...I did think I rather suited it.”

Juno smiled softly at that, leaning in to kiss his cheek. He was making something of a habit out of it.

“You know, why don’t we try something that’s not as...involved as what you were maybe planning. But something I still really think you’ll enjoy,” he murmured low in Nureyev’s ear.

“I like the sound of that,” he nodded, shoulders relaxing, eyes sparking with interest.

He allowed Juno to press him gently back against the bed so he was flat on his back, shivering happily as he moved quickly to swing a leg over his hips and cover him almost completely. He loved to have Juno so close, so the whole universe became his roughened hands on Nureyev’s shoulders as he slid the straps of the neglige down to bear the top of his chest, the warm breath of his kisses across his collarbone, the coffee and soft powder shampoo smell of him, his hips pressed against Nureyev’s own.

“Do you want to know what I’m gonna do?” Juno whispered against his skin, “Or do you want the surprise?”

“Surprise me,” Nureyev answered immediately, eagerly, always unable to resist any kind of gift anticipation.

Juno chuckled, “Just say if you want it to stop then…”

They’d made out before of course, Nureyev was familiar and comfortable with this. Hands had slipped down the front of trousers, mostly his own into Juno’s in a surprising application of his pickpocketing skills, there had been a few intense and breathtaking orgasms, a few tears he’d been mortified by at first until Juno had kissed them from his cheeks and promised everything was okay.

But Juno drawing back, moving down to settle between his legs, was new. Drawing him close by the thighs, sliding his long, pale legs over his broad shoulders, was new. Nureyev felt the skin down there prickle at the closeness, at Juno’s soft exhalations against him.

“Oh…” he gasped.

“Still okay?” Juno murmured, eyes soft in the low light. Nureyev didn’t doubt for a moment that he would stop if he asked. But stopping was the last thing he wanted right now.

“God, yes.”

Juno smiled before dipping down between his boyfriend’s spread thighs and, Nureyev could have sworn, was still smiling as he ran the very tip of his tongue between them. He felt his back arch and his thighs tighten around Juno’s head, his curls raising goosebumps.

“Oh fuck…” he whimpered, the only thing he could think to say as Juno began to eat him out in earnest.

The slightest flicker of his tongue wrought screams from Nureyev, the barest nudge of his nose against his cock made him clutch at the sheets under him hard enough to tear them. One arm thrown haphazardly over his face clenched tight into a fist that would leave little half moon indentations in his palms the next morning, his feet flexed and trembled with some frantic current borne entirely of Juno’s expert attention.

It wasn’t the most drawn out session in the world, Nureyev coming hard with little warning after only a minute or two, but it wasn’t as if either of them were keeping track. However long it was, it would never feel like long enough.

“Nureyev?” Juno panted, rising up on his elbows to grin smugly at his boyfriend, his chin shining with something slick that mortified and thrilled Nureyev in equal measures.

He didn’t answer, just dragged Juno up to kiss him hard, with all the surprising strength in his thin arms. Juno gave a half laugh against his lips, answering back with so much enthusiasm that it completed the ruin of his boyfriend’s lipstick.

“You know,” he murmured, when they were both too exhausted to do anything but lean nose to nose and catch their breath, “You didn’t need to do all this to make me want to have sex with you. I love you anyways. You know that, right?”

Nureyev curled up against him, threading his arms around his chest, “Yeah. I know. And I love you too.”

And he meant every word.

[chromatic-lamina]

law and robin brotp fanfic excerpt

Again, from a longer darker multi-chaptered piece, though the excerpt isn’t dark. The below is a T-rating at the most. The fic isn’t though, so I won’t link. This is a post-canon world where Luffy is the pirate king. Law is recovering at Robin’s from Doflamingo menace. Benn is a lawyer in this post-canon world. The content fairly light. The Franky joke is an ongoing thing throughout this story. This scene is set before the (platonic) lawbin I posted previously. Enjoy (but excuse the shitty graphics. Sorry).

It was just as well she knew him so well. He smelled of grass, sun and the aftertaste of fear; the sting of anger, and the warmth of protection as the neighbour's two year old dog snuggled into the crook of his arm and rested his snout on his chest. 

The dog lifted his head and sneezed twice, spraying Robin with canine snot, before lowering his jaw flat onto Law again.

Robin was pushed up against Law's shoulder on the grass. He'd shambled her there as she'd stepped out to hang clothes on the line, deciding to do it herself rather than using her fruit. Now her fruit was busy though, sorting through the pegs, and colour-coding them to the garments. She should've just engaged it in the first place. The work ethic was overrated.

"He's sorry," Law said, scritching the pup's hard head.

Robin looked across at the dog, so at ease on the surgeon's chest, so unaware that there was anything wrong with sneezing all over her.

"No he's not."

Law smiled into the sun.

"And neither are you," she added.

Law loosened his jaw. He couldn't get too warm on this day. As much sun as he soaked up, he needed more.

"Comfortable there, Nico-ya?" He freed his arm from between them, the other loosely on the pup, and folded it around her shoulders. "You find my company distasteful?"

"What would Franky say?" she asked. Law's shirt had the faint scent of cigarettes. He smoked when he was stressed, otherwise he preferred rollies packed with leaf. A mild buzz. On occasion.

"Robo-ya and I are in an open relationship," Law murmured. "I don't think he'd mind."

Relief prickled through her like the lawn pushing against her blouse. He still had it. Could still joke, step beyond everything that the media, Doflamingo, his own psyche, damned him by.

"You gonna survive this one, Flevance?"

Law looked up at the sky. A clear beautiful blue, not a cloud in sight. He could be hopeful on days like this. Doflamingo was all about entrance and show. No clouds to lasso eased air flow. "Yeah." The dog let out a small growl as Law changed position. He patted its fur absently.

.

Robin's fruit hands finished hanging the clothes. She set them to work picking up fallen leaves. Dumped them in the garden bag against the fence. 

 She lifted her fingers to his warm hand draping her shoulder. Inked fingers slinked through her own. "He almost killed you, Law. Being poorly judged by the town when he's ensured you're a pariah seems light punishment."

He ran his thumb over the mound of her wrist. Didn't answer. Doflamingo had almost killed him.  He loosened his grip and sat up, looking down at his friend, her dark hair spread over the grass, a spare hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

"What're you doing lounging down there? Didn't you have work to do?"

"Heh."

Since Law was up the dog was too. He wandered with a far too enthusiastic swing of his tail to Robin and licked her cheek. She sprouted a few hands and held the pup's wriggly hips, the appendage shading her forehead dispersing.

"Don't break his ribs."

As if.

"Whaddya call that hold?"

"Soothing the savage beast." She calmed the dog and Law's lap looked as good as any bed to lie in. It clumsily tripped over and lay down again.

"Sleepy, little fella?" The surgeon flicked the ears, velvet like a tanned animal hide, between his fingers. The dog shook his head in a twitchy muddle.

Robin had seen him tease Bepo the same way.

"Guess I'll run," he said.

She sighed.

"Fight?" He didn't know why he was playing for Robin's approval. He glanced her way a second.

"You shouldn't have to."

"Kill?"

"You have to ask?"

Law leaned backwards, his arms behind him. "I'm a doctor. Really hate taking life."

"Seems you're the only one who remembers that."

Law glanced disinterestedly at his upper arms. "Think it's the tatts that do it? Scream serial killer to you?"

"Murderous thug. Sewer rat. Something like that. Yeah."

"Thieving magpie?"

"You're giving magpies a bad name."

"True, they're beautiful birds." He straightened, ran his thumbnail across a bottom incisor. Liked to reassure himself of the thickness, the tactility of being. "Think I should change careers, assassin?"

"You want to be one or you insulting me?"

"Praising, Nico-ya. I only hang out with the best."

"We'll help, you know. Everyone will help."

"And then when Luffy lets them off with a pardon?"

"Don't talk with your mouthful."

Law removed his thumb, repeated himself. Wiped his hand on his jeans leg.

Ah yeah, maybe not everyone could be redeemed, she thought.

"Legal process?" Law asked.

"Benn?"

"There's few better."

Clutched. Law only imagined that word when he removed hearts and when he'd seen Robin use the technique to break necks. Twinge. Was twinge a better word? Something below the sternum twinged. Benn's cigarette shroud, swaggering flintlock, and easy confidence. His skyrocket intellect. His confidence in Law. He'd been skirting the idea of contacting him.

"Shanks and Benn helped out before." Not that he wanted to drag himself through the cesspit of memory he'd fled to find protection.

Robin knew.  "Law."

"Mmm?" His back was sore. He tipped to his side, head on his elbow, spilling the dog onto the lawn again. It scratched at the ground and ambled next door, back home, tail lazily wagging. Law patted at the dust kicked onto his thigh.

"Remember at Punk Hazard, Caesar squeezing your heart and..."

"Hurt like a motherfucker."

"But you survived it. Pretty easily."

"Hah. You shoulda seen the after-party with Vergo. If Smoker hadn't returned it dunno how things would've gone."

"But you tackled all that, you did all that, your art installation, screwing with Smoker's crew, screwing with our crew, taking on Vergo, without a freaking heart. You sliced up those yeti monsters, got us out of that cage. And it was hollow in here." She tapped her own chest.

"You getting metaphorical on me?"

"You and Zoro are the gold medalists of ennui, we get that. But neither of you are lacking here." She thumped her chest again.

"Neither Zoro nor I are anywhere near as well-endowed." Law rolled onto his back again.

"Fool. You been hanging out with Sanji and Brook?"

"Those nosebleeds of his are fascinating." He placed his hand on his body and felt the steady ba-da-boom behind his bazoomless chest. "There are limits to my powers, but yeah, they're pretty awesome."

"Fight them. Whichever way. Nowadays it doesn't have to be blood and guts. Don't let them get away with it. 

"Call Benn."

[p4nkow]

D is for Dangerous - part III

Wow, part III already! I really, really love how it’s turning out and I’m so excited for you to read this —and the following — parts. Pls let me know what you think about it, I love reading your comments!

Visual evidence of the characters: One, Two, Three, Four (of course), Five, Six, Seven, Harry (I know he has brown eyes, but let’s pretend he doesn’t).  

Part I, Part II

Summary: driven by the desire of revenge, the reader tries to take down the man who ruined her life only to find out that her plan is an utter fiasco; however she meets a man that is gonna change her life and give her the chance of a lifetime

Four!Ben x Fem!Reader

hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)

Nine days after the explosion – five days until the hit on Kuklinski

The map on the table wasn’t particularly interesting, the despite the fact that you’d been staring at it for minutes by now. You weren’t interested in its details; you were just trying to avoid Six’s gaze. It was almost impossible to look at him after the events of the previous day – which meant his rejection in particular.

Three’s work had borne fruit: the special camera he was working just a few days before was already being tested on Six. The images were being projected in a big, flat screen pinned at the main wall of the living room. “Is it too obvious?”

Two narrowed her brows at One’s question as he tried to hide the camera as best as possible in Will’s suit. “Try another spot. That one is too low.”

That’s when you looked up, focusing on Six while you tried to avoid the rest of the group. The thought of Four and Five almost convinced you to give him a quick look, but you tried to fight that instinct.

Instead of being put and watch One placing the camera on Six, Three and Seven were reviewing the plan. You could hear their chatting from you were sitting, on the comfiest sofa you’d ever seen. And especially very far away from Four, who was standing against the wall on your left. Four was right next to him and it didn’t surprise you at all.

“This suit is way too tight.” One sighed deeply at Six’s complaining and you chuckled.

“Just think it’s for a good cause”, you intervened with a little smile. Six’s brown eyes moved on you and they lit up when he smiled back at you. “You guys are gonna be the end of me.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” Two couldn’t take anymore Six’s complaints, eye-rolling in sign of annoyance.

You could feel Four’s green eyes on you at your little interaction with Six.

You just couldn’t bare the weight of looking back at him, which reminded you how embarrassed you felt after leaving the gym.

One kept trying different spots for the camera, but you stopped paying attention at the third attempt. You found yourself wondering the reason of Four’s rejection. Maybe you were right – him and Five were a couple. It’d also explain the reason of Five’s hatred towards you. Or maybe it had nothing to do with her. Maybe he simply didn’t like you back. To be honest, you didn’t know which of the two possibilities was the worst.

“Eight.” Five’s firm tone brought you back to reality. When you turned towards him, his cold eyes were already on you.

“Hm?”

“You sure you can handle going inside together with Five at the party?” Five was definitely the last person you wanted to partner with, but you had to make it work. Seven gave you a quick nod when you confirmed him your role. You could make it. Fuck Kuklinski and his stupid parties.

What you didn’t expect, though, was Four’s intervention as he said “Isn’t it too dangerous?”

You didn’t know how to interpret his words. Was he worried about you or was he only worrying about the fact that you could screw things up? You couldn’t deny that it was hard for you to put feelings aside and act rationally when it came to Kuklinski, but you weren’t going to fail them. Those people had given you a chance you weren’t going to waste.

“I can do this.” Four looked at you by hearing your firm tone and that’s when you finally looked back at him. You couldn’t help but give a quick glance at his lips, thinking about how you felt when you kissed him just the day before.

His deep, green eyes were darker than their usual colour. Maybe because of concern, maybe because of tiredness. He raised a brow and gave you a sceptical look, his shoulders rise and lower as he sighed deeply. “We already know you just switch off your rational part when it comes to Kuklinski.”

“I’m not going to screw things up.” The bitterness of your tone caught Two’s attention, who gave you a quick concerned look before going back into helping one. Three, Five and Seven looked at your little conversation without intervening just like a bunch of teenagers would look at children getting into a fight.

“You actually did, and that day at his party proved that. You didn’t even notice the rest of his guards.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything stupid”, you defended yourself. But he was right – your plan that night was full of inaccuracies.

“Yeah, because I didn’t let you. You were going to get yourself killed”, Four said by articulating his words. He wanted you to get his message.

“And what if I did?”

His jaw clenched and he exhaled deeply, his green eyes still fixed into yours. You wanted so badly to read the expression in them, but you couldn’t. You didn’t care if you ended up dead – you only cared for the plan to work. “I’m ready. I won’t screw it up.”

“You better not to.” It was the first time Five intervened. If stares could kill, you’d be dead already. “One wrong move, cariño. Just make one wrong move and—”

“And what?”

“That’s enough”, One spat.

You exhaled deeply and after holding her stare for some seconds more, you looked away. You had no idea what was her problem with you – you’d done nothing to her – but whatever her reason was, you knew she wasn’t kidding when she was about to say she was going to kill you herself if you screwed things up.

You’d had enough. You were sick and tired of being treated as the weakest link in the chain, as if you were a burden to carry. So you just got up and left the room, leaving them all behind. Before turning the corner, you felt like Four was calling your name.

-

The cold breeze blowing in the rooftop was helping you clean your thoughts. As you enjoyed the wind through your hair, the little spat with Five seemed just a distant memory. The lights of a LA were as bright as the stars of the Milky Way. The sight of the city under you was probably what pushed you to do what you’d promised not to do.

You took one of the laptops with ghost chips kindly provided by One and you sat down. Before thinking twice about it, you opened a search page. It was a terrible idea, but there was no turning back. You searched your own death.

The news page was filled with different articles — you were pretty sure they all said the same things, until you found one in particular. It wasn’t about your death, it was about your funerals. You quickly opened it and the pictures left you almost breathless.

Your sister Emily looked destroyed, completely devastated. Her face said it all. It was the same expression she had after your parents’ death — vacant, detached from the world. Your heart ached at the sight of her sorrow. What did you do? Did you do the right thing? Your nephews’ faces had been obscured and it was for the better. You weren’t sure you could bare their saddened eyes. The pictures portrayed them entering the Church, following your hypothetical casket. An empty casket. A lie.

You didn’t feel the tears watering your eyes but once they started falling on the computer keyboard, you just couldn’t hold yourself. Maybe because of the pressure of the last few days, maybe because you were starting question your decision, you found yourself sobbing between your hands, letting go all the distress in your body.

You had no idea for how long you’d been there, sitting all by yourself, but at some point Four joined you. He took the laptop from you, giving a quick look at the article before closing it and putting it away. It was inevitable for him not to notice your teary eyes and even if he’d noticed them, he didn’t say anything about it. He was just sitting there, right next to you, as if he shared your sorrow.

When you turned towards him, he was staring at the city lights in front of you. He seemed almost ethereal, with the shadows of neon lights lighting up his side profile. Some strands of his wavy, blonde hair had fallen on his forehead, partly covering his green eyes.

He must’ve noticed you were basically staring at him and he turned towards you. As soon as his eyes met yours, a corner of his lips lifted in a sad smile. He pursed his lips and looked down at your hand. Not long after, he placed his own on yours, almost as if he wanted to give you strength with that simple gesture.

“Do you regret it?” His voice was so low that his words seemed nothing but a whisper.

It took you some time to find the right answer to his question. “No, I don’t.”

And you weren’t lying. After all, you didn’t regret anything.

“I did at first”, he confessed.

You raised your brows in surprise, having a little sniffle before saying “Really?”

By hearing your surprised tone, he looked up at you. His warm hand was still on yours as his quickly glanced at you. “Yeah. I still do, in some respects. But I guess my motivations to do it were longer valid than the ones for not doing it.”

You slowly nodded at his words, moving your gaze from him to the city. “Even though I miss my family, I know that I did the right thing.”

“You’re lucky, y’know?” You narrowed your brows and by noticing your questioning look he added “You’ve got a family that loves you.”

His low and sad tone got you thinking of his past. The image of a young, extremely blond Six came to your mind and it made you smile. “You don’t?”, you dared to ask.

It was such an intimate moment, definitely the best of the last few days. You needed a bit of tranquillity and intimacy and that was exactly what Four was giving you. He turned again towards you and he gently squeezed your hand before saying “Not really, no.”

“I’m sorry.”

The sadness of the smile he gave you made your heart ache a little. “Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault.” You felt tears watering your eyes again at his words, but this time you tried to hold them back. It was you who squeezed his hand this time, giving him all the support he needed. Despite everything, Four saved you. You were a lost soul, wandering alone towards your end, but he’d given you a purpose. Something to believe in. And you’d be forever grateful to him.

“You’ll have your revenge”, you whispered.

Four turned towards you. His staring was so intense that it almost made you look away. Thank God it was dark, or he’d have seen you blush. The memory of his rejection resurfaced in that moment and you cleared your throat, trying to look unbothered. “Yeah. Sooner than expected”, he confirmed.

“What do you mean?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. “You’re not the only one who hates Kuklinski.”

What did it mean? You narrowed your brows at his words, but even before you could think about it, he got up. Six looked down at you and your hand seemed incredibly cold without his covering it. “Four—”

“Go take some rest. You’ll need it.” He seemed like he couldn’t wait to run away.

You were being rejected, again. As he walked away, leaving you alone in the rooftop, you found yourself wondering what the hell was going on with him.

Twelve days after the explosion – two days until the hit on Kuklinski

The dress Two had loaned you was so bloody tight, you could barely breathe. You called her on it and she limited herself to give you a deadly look. “We need it to be tight.” You highly disagreed on that, but you didn't dare to reply. As you gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, the reflection seemed nothing but yourself. Your hair had been curled in order to hide the earpiece One had given you to keep in touch. Two had done a great job with your makeup but you didn't feel like yourself anymore.

“You look great”, she tried to reassure you and you faked a smile to thank her.

Today was the day — Kuklinski party'd have started in an hour and you and Four were going to attend it. Not that you'd been invited, though. One had asked you to fake the invitations and given your past experiences, you’d agreed to do it.

The two of you turned towards the door by hearing a knock on it. Four came in right after and you were pretty sure you were going to remember forever the expression on his face as soon as he saw you. Surprise flickered over his face as he stared at the fresh version of you. You could feel his gaze running through your body and God knows what was on his mind.

In that moment Two gave you two a quick look before leaving the room without saying a word. It was just you and Four now. His staring made you blush and you looked away, clearing your throat at the awkwardness of the moment. “What?”, you dared to ask.

He recovered in record time. “Nothing. I — I uhm.. brought you this. I just thought it might be more comfortable to hide instead of a gun.”

He was holding a knife. Giving a better look at it, you were pretty sure it was the knife he’d taken from you the first time you met. “That’s mine!”

“It was yours”, he immediately replied with a grin.

“Oh, shut up.”

You gave him a quick look before trying to embed it to your garter. You could feel Four’s green eyes on you, silently following your movements. “Will you be careful?”

You smiled at his worried tone, looking up at him. “I always am.”

“Seriously, though. Those people are dangerous, Eight.” You took a deep breath as you took a step towards him. Even though you were wearing high heels, he was still a few inches taller than you.

“I know. I swear I’ll be careful.”

His green eyes were now filled with worry — you could read him like a book. He slowly nodded and the two of you stood quiet for a while. He raised a hand and he gently grazed your cheek, making you close your eyes. His touch was so soft that it almost gave you goosebumps.

Until he inhaled deeply and took a step back, making you almost groan in frustration.

And that was almost two hours ago. Now you were already at the party and for the first time since you’ve met her, Five wasn’t throwing deadly looks at you. That’s probably because of the seriousness of the situation. Soft music was playing in the background as you and her, shoulder to shoulder, were chatting with a group of business man. Kuklinski’s shareholders, to be exact. The fakest smile was lighting up your face as you nodded every now and then, a sign that you were following the conversation.

You two were undercover, trying to find an excuse to have a free access at the building the day of the hit. As she was chatting with a middle-aged man, you tried to take note of the little details around you. Where Kuklinski was. Who he was chatting with. What he seemed to be interested to.

“Eight, try to get one of them alone. Create some intimacy.” One’s voice came to you crystal clear from the earpiece you were hiding with your wavy hair.

You looked quickly at each and everyone of them and as you tried to hide your disgust you suddenly said “I think I’m gonna need one more drink. If you’ll excuse me—”

“Actually”, one of them said as you were about to walk away. It was one of the youngest men in the group — he could’ve been your age. “I’d love to have another drink, too. May I join you?”

That’s what you were hoping for. You smiled in satisfaction and after exchanging a quick look with Five, you nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.”

“That’s Harry Langbourn. I know him and he definitely works for Kuklinski”, Four told you through the mic. It was the first time he talked to you and you tried not to visibly react at his voice. You wondered why did he know so many things regarding your target.

“Are you enjoying the night?” Harry’s voice brought you back from your thoughts.

You faked a smile and pursed your lips as you sat on the barstool next to him, trying to pull down your dress to hide your bare thighs. Thank God it was long enough to hide the knife embed in your garter, just as you used to do.

Four’s face came to your mind at the thought of the knife — he’d given you an amused smile while watching you hiding it, probably remembering the first time you met.

“Yes, it’s really nice”, you replied in a polite way. The reason was, you had no idea how to act. Thank God, Two came to your aid, suggesting through the earpiece “Ask him personal stuff.“

“So”, you started saying as you watched him order two more drinks to the barman. “Do your personally know Mr. Kuklinski?” Had it been too obvious? If so, Harry didn’t seem to be bothered about it.

“Actually, yes. I work for him directly, we could say.” His green eyes seemed lighter when he smiled. They seemed familiar but even though he was a handsome man, you felt nothing but disgust at the thought of him working for Kuklinski. “Do you?”

“Lie”, One said. You don’t say, huh?

“Oh, no. I wish I did. We’re just business partners.” You were a better liar than you actually thought.

Harry raised his brows in a surprised expression. “Oh really? What kind of affairs?”

You cleared your voice as you tried to come up with a convincing lie. Thankfully you’d been interrupted by the barman, who extended you your drinks. You thanked him in a whisper before taking a sip of it, looking again at Harry and his brown hair. “The one you don’t wanna know about.” You added a little smile at your words, hoping you hadn’t screw it up. You heard One inhaling deeply and you started to feel nervous.

But to everyone’s surprise, Harry burst out into laughter. “That son of a bitch”, you heard Six murmur to the microphone.

“And do you have some business for me, too?”

You gave a look at he people around you, making sure no one was paying attention to you as you leaned towards him. Every second that passed you felt more and more confident — Harry was completely under your spell. “It depends”, you whispered, his face now close to yours.

“What the Hell are you doing?”, you heard Four whisper, followed by a bitter “Four shut up!” from Two.

“Depends from what?”, Harry asked. All you wanted to do was to stab him right there, but you had to stick to the plan. One had trusted you by letting you go instead of Two, and you had no intention of failing him.

You took another sip of your drinking, holding his gaze in the meanwhile. “Of what you’re interested in.”

Harry pursed his lips, looking down at his drink as he seemed to think at your words. “Let’s just say”, he replied right after “That I really love wintertime. Snow and everything, y’know.”

Snow. It meant drugs, and One confirmed it to you a few seconds later. You also heard someone cursing in the background but you didn’t understand who it was. Harry was taking for granted that all the guests of the party were criminals. What a fool.

You widened your fake smile as he looked up at you, slowly nodding at his words. “Why don’t we discuss about it in a proper way?”, you proposed.

Harry seemed to be caught off guard by your proposal. “Do you suggest a meeting?”

“Why not?”

He sighed deeply and narrowed his eyes, a tiny smile still impressed on his face. “A meeting it is, then.” He unlocked his phone and with the corner of your eyes you noticed he was checking his schedule. “What about Wednesday?”

“Uhm— I’m leaving on Tuesday for an international meeting.” You deserved an Oscar for your performance.

Harry nodded at your words and looked down at his phone once again. “What about Monday, then?”

Two days from now, exactly how you were planning. “Monday’s just perfect. My partner and I will be there.”

Thirteen days after the explosion – one days until the hit on Kuklinski

“This is all so fucking dangerous”, One sighed, placing his elbows on the counter as he covered his face with both hands. What a wonderful way to start the day. After weeks of planning, months of craving revenge, tomorrow you were finally going to take down the man that killed your parents.

The general mood wasn’t one of the best and for obvious reasons — you weren’t sure whether you plan would’ve worked. You guys had been working on it in great detail for weeks by now, but there’s always a flaw in the system. But what do you have to lose when you’re already pronounced dead?

“It’s gonna work.” Four seemed sure of his words. His voice, crystal clear, had been firm. No hesitations at all. He extended you one of the two mugs he was holding and he met your gaze just for a few seconds before focusing back on One. The sweet taste of cappuccino distracted you from their words.

Four’s thigh touched yours every now and then as he moved on the couch, sitting right next to you. You, on the other hand, were frozen still by nervousness. You had no second thoughts about what you were going to do, but let’s just say you weren’t exactly Beatrix Kiddo from Kill Bill.

Two nodded at his words but you focused on him. His back was tense, his muscles visibile from the grey shirt he was wearing. His blonde hair was shaved on the sides but with orderly blonde waves on the top. You found yourself wondering how it’d feel to sink your fingers on it.

For fuck’s sake, Eight. Focus.

“Eight?”

“Mh?” One was looking at you with worry.

“You sure you’re gonna make it?”

Seven pairs of eyes were now looking at you, so you boldly raised your chin and faked a tight smile. “I got it.”

And when everyone went back to their conversations, Four’s eyes were still on you. You could feel his gaze going down to your chest where your arms were crossed and even further, before going back to your eyes. “This is gonna be a breeze.”

“We’re gonna take down that motherfucker.”

He lifted a corner of his lips in an amused smile. “Yeah, we are.”

“You nervous?”

“Are you?” You saw a sparkle in his eyes as he turned your words on you.

A nod it’s all you gave him. His green eyes stayed on you for a few more seconds before moving his gaze to One, who was doing a recap of the final plan.

-

It was evening — the sun was up in LA and everything seemed to proceed just as planned. The strike was only a few hours away and you were trying to work off that nervous energy by working out. You were taking it easy — you had to serve your strength for the strike — but being busy helped you not to overthink. The less you thought, the less angry you were. And anger wasn’t a good thing in a situation that had to be handled in a rational way.

One-one, two. One-one, two. One-one, two. Focus on your target. Fists up.

“You got tired to hear One’s voice?” You turned towards the door by hearing his voice. You were breathless and flushed, your hands aching because of the impact with the punching bag.

Four was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed on his chest as a corner of his lips was raised in a little smile. “I’m sick of revisiting the plan over and over again.”

“He’s just nervous.”

“We all are.”

“So you admit it.” You placed a hand on the punching bag as Four slowly approached you. A thing you’d never admit was the fact that you were attracted to him.

“Never said otherwise”, You replied by raising your brow. His smile grew even wider.

“C’mere”, He said with a nod, silently inviting you to practice with him.

You cracked your neck after moving right in front of him. His eyes were inviting you to challenge him but his body language said something totally different. The way his body was always leaning towards you and how he closely followed your movements didn’t go unnoticed.

Without any warning you took a small step towards him, trying to hit him with a punch on his shoulder. He’d barely the time to step aside to avoid it, giving you a surprised look. “So you got claws, kitten.”

“Don’t challenge me, Four.” You blocked one of his fists and so did he. His skin was so warm against yours and he looked way more unbothered than he actually was. “Why are you so mad at him?”

“Who?”

Fist, fist, get down.

He knew exactly who you were talking about. “Kuklinski.”

“He has to pay for his actions.” What a lie.

Four blocked your fist — again — but instead of letting you go he blocked your arm against your chest and pushed your back against him. You could feel his toned muscles against your back as his hot breath grazed your ear. You tried to resist but he was holding you close against his body. “I don’t believe you”, you whispered, almost breathless.

“Joke’s on you.” When he realised you weren’t going to resist anymore, he loosened his grip on you. That’s what allowed you to turn towards him, face to face. You had to lift your chin to meet his green eyes, overwhelming and secure at the same time. From where you were standing you could feel his hot breath right on your lips.

“You see, everyone sort of told his own story. Two was a spy, Three was a hitman, Five was a doctor, Seven was a soldier.” Your voice was now just a whisper. “But you’ve kept all your secrets to yourself.”

“Isn’t it the point of all this thing? The code names? Not looking back, only forward.” He had no intention of giving up.

“That’s your excuse.”

You were testing him, more than sure than he was hiding something. But what?

And eventually, he fell apart. You could notice the change in his eyes. He took a step back from you and sighed deeply and he tried to summon up the courage to speak. “You really wanna know why I want revenge on Kuklinski?”

You didn’t trust your own voice so you just nodded a ‘yes’ as answer. Four seemed anxious, and you didn’t even know why. “Let me ask you something first.”

“Okay.” You were starting to get worried at his tone.

He run his fingers through his hair and took again a deep breath. “How did you feel about Harry?”

You narrowed your brows. “Harry Longbourn?”

“Yeah.”

What the hell was going on? “I... I don’t know. He’s with the enemy”, you simply said, trying to get where he was going to with his speech.

He stood quiet for a couple of seconds, in which he never looked away from you. His eyes were troubled, as if he was carrying a burden too heavy for him. “What about him?”

“He’s my brother.”

You couldn’t believe his words. It was like all the air was gettin’ sucked from your lungs and your legs felt like jelly. “He’s what?”

Four pursed his lips and slowly nodded. You noticed his Adam’s apple rise and lower as he waited for you to say something. Anything. But you didn’t. And what he said right after did nothing but confirm your horrible thoughts. “I used to work for him, Eight. I used to work for Kuklinski.”

Taglist: @maccasbeard @radiob-l-a-hblah @queen-turtle-boiii @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @sara-1705 @queen--sherlock @allthethingsicant @hells-personal-bitch @owensgrxdy @amy-brooklyn99 @dep-thx @ken-yee-not @mazzelloqueen @caborhapch @jonesyaddiction @mightbeidfkalien @pink-lemo​

let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist :)