#a few people in the crowd made extra noises when he stuck his tongue out i'm laughing

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[dreamyjoons]

Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt - pjm

⇢ another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

Genre/warnings: smut, 18+! ‘enemies’-to-lovers, swearing, semi-public smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, honestly at this point a sweat kink, multiple orgasms, light choking, some spitting, unprotected sex, creampie.

Words: 14.2k lol

A/N: well hello! I’m back baby, and to celebrate i had to exorcise some Jimin demons. Did i talk about him sweating a lot? Yes. Did i use my favourite pic of him for the header? Also yes. Don’t @ me, i already know. I hope you enjoy!!!

"You're so wrong about this, it's actually kind of embarrassing."

"No you're wrong, only an idiot would think the way you do."

"Guys, no one - and I really mean this - no one cares about what kind of cups you need for beer pong. You've been arguing this for like twenty minutes now." Hoseok huffs, sitting back into the couch.

"Eighteen minutes." Namjoon sighs, tipping back his cup and gulping down its contents.

"But solo cups are far superior-"

"Jimin, they aren't!" You snap, dragging your glare away from his rolling eyes, deciding you never wanna look at him ever again.

"Please stop." Jungkook sighs, slipping off the chair beside Hoseok. His eyes flick between you before scanning the rest of the people in the room, slowly moving to the thump of the music. "Gonna find Yoongi and Tae." He mumbles before disappearing through the mass of bodies.

You'd been at the house party for less than three minutes before you and Jimin found a reason to have an argument. At first, it was how late you were - even though you found out he only got there five minutes before you. Then when you commented on the music choices to Yoongi, he found a way to disagree - despite you both knowing he loved the artist. On and on it went. Now here you were; Namjoon and Hoseok on the couch watching you both with bored expressions, Jin tuned out and typing rapidly on his phone beside them. Jimin stood to your left, and you made sure to keep him totally out of your sight.

But it was getting harder to hear him, thankfully. And he was losing steam. The house was crowded and loud, lively dancers everywhere and the smell of alcohol rich in the air. It was already way too hot out, but being stuffed inside at this party was causing everyone to sweat. You could see condensation forming on the walls.

The house was huge and expensively decorated, belonging to some producer friend of Namjoon. Marbled floors met white walls, a rug carpet covering the floor that made you wince when you thought about the price. It was sprawling and full of a ridiculous number rooms. Yet still, people had to squeeze between the spaces, excuses and polite taps lost in the fury of heat and confinement.

You held your can to your forehead to cool yourself down but it had grown warm waiting for you and Jimin to finish your current spout. You grimace but take a sip anyway - at least if you get a buzz you can ignore him for a little. You felt a pit of guilt at making Jungkook leave. But you were riled up, and you couldn't back down. Not to Jimin.

You saw Jimin tip his head back to drink out of the corner of your eye, but you daren't look at him. He was as insufferable as he was hot as hell, and not just in temperature.

However, you had managed to take a better look at him earlier in the night. His beige silk shirt was already sticking to his skin, tucked into tight jeans blacker than you had ever seen. Who wears silk to a house party? The necklace that he always wore sat just below his collarbones, and you're reminded of all the times you've wanted to throttle him with that damn chain. He'd been pushing his dark hair back all night - you could tell by how it fell about his face, silky strands falling into his eyes. Was he wearing some kind of lipgloss too? You grumble into your drink. He was too pretty for his own good.

At first the sparring was fun. There was an attraction there, on your part at least. It was spicy, something hot and fast, a way to see how compatible you were. Maybe you had some feelings for him. Possibly, potentially.

But over time it devolved. It felt like he'd say things just to get a rise out of you, to draw your attention into a battle with him. And now here you were, bitterly avoiding the man's existence.

"God, why is it so hot here?" Jin gasps, blotting his face with his sleeve.

"Probably haven't got the air con on." Jimin shrugs, taking a swig from his glass.

"It's on-" You start, eyes flicking to where you thought you could see a vent in the ceiling. It was open, so you assumed it would be on - it had to be.

"I highly doubt that."

Jimin gives you the look he always does - where he tilts his head back and stares into your soul. His plump lips part, tongue pressed behind his teeth, goading you into his trap. He gets his way every time.

"Why would they not have it on? It's burning hot even without a house full of people."

"Then it's clearly a crappy unit." He shrugs, but his words are quick and his eyes are still intensely focused on you.

"Jimin have you seen the rest of this house? Don't be dumb-"

"Shut up!"

You and Jimin spin to your friends who had all shouted in unison. The ones who could still stand to be around you both arguing, anyway. Several of the dancers that were nearby stopped to look at the exclamation but slowly drifted back into the music - albeit before taking a step further away from your group.

"Enough. I'm gonna put an end to this once and for all." Namjoon gets to his feet and strides away with purpose, standing a head above nearly everyone in the crowd.

You shiftily look at Jimin before silently waiting for Namjoon to return, confusion thick in your brain. You awkwardly chewed on your lip as the seconds ticked by, before finally he stalks back, his bag under his arm.

He throws himself back into his seat, flips open the top of his bag and rifles through.

Finally he pulls out a heap of bright yellow material, and with a small noise, he dumps his bag beside him before bolting up. He unravels the material and holds it up to you, grin growing on his face.

It takes you a few seconds to focus on what he is holding out to you and Jimin - but when you realise, you gasp.

"'Our get along shirt'? Namjoon you've gotta be joking." you splutter, scanning the shirt.

It was a sickly yellow, 'our get along shirt' printed on it in what appeared to be black glitter. It could probably fit both you and Jimin in it, maybe Yoongi could slip in too. It looked somewhat roomy, but that was not the point.

"What?" Jimin asks, lips parted as he stares into the glitter.

"You're both gonna wear it and get over whatever bullshit is going on here." Namjoon says so casually, as if he was asking the time or giving directions. But you saw the seriousness in the minute movements of his face. The clench on his jaw, the hardiness of his eyes.

"We're adults Namjoon, you can't expect us to wear that." Jimin's face had gone into a full blush, but his frown was deep as he stared at Namjoon.

"You are both gonna wear it."

"No-" You shout, but Namjoon pointedly huffs at you, and you take the hint.

"Put the shirt on. By the end of the night, either one of you will have killed the other or you have this sorted out. Because if not, you'll end up pushing us all away. For good." Namjoon finishes with a sigh, the depth of his gaze so severe it confirms that he isn’t playing with you.

You look behind him at Jin and Hoseok, and the direction in which Jungkook had walked away. Jin and Hoseok looked deadly serious, no hint of a smile or a cackle of laughter like you'd expect.

He had a point. You knew it. But it was so hard - Jimin couldn't let things lie, and you couldn't back away from a fight when it was him you were fighting. But to see others dropping out from around you...

"Hand over the shirt."

You spin to stare at Jimin. His face was tight, jaw set and eyebrows drawn. It had dawned on him too, just how far this had gone. But he obviously didn't like the idea of it, and neither did you.

"Fine but if I do kill him I’m taking you all down with me as accessories." You sigh, reaching forward and taking the shirt from Namjoon.

“How long have you had this, Joon?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Long enough.”

You turn it in your hands and with a deep breath, you pull the shirt over your head, sticking your arm through the sleeve and head through the collar. Your left arm hangs loosely in the shirt, and you begin to fret about what you should do with it. Maybe you should just stick it in your pocket? You don't wanna brush anything-

Before you could follow that train of thought, Jimin tugs you and the shirt towards him. You follow, gulping thickly. He casts one last look at Namjoon before putting his head under the bottom of the shirt. within seconds his head is through the collar, his shoulder bumping yours as he tries to get comfortable.

The air is thick around you, the extra warmth of him being so close to you making the heat rise on your face. You were strongly aware of every microscopic move he makes, your senses keenly aware of his proximity. He lets out a harsh sigh, and you feel the breath ripple over the collar and down the shirt. A pout settles on his lips, glossy and wholly enticing - and entirely too close.

His face was inches from yours, shoulders stuck rigidly together as you subtly wrestle for space. The shirt was obviously made for kids, and much smaller than you had originally anticipated. Two kids would be able to almost comfortably stand side by side. You and Jimin had barely enough excess shirt, but the collar was far too small. His hand grazes mercilessly across your thigh, the hardness of his rings pressing into the material of your jeans.

You hear a click of a camera, and your attention snaps up to see Hoseok taking a photo of you both on his phone. With both you and Jimin glaring at him, he snaps another and giggles.

"One for Jungkook." He grins, before flipping his phone to you.

Instinctively you step forward to look, but the lack of space drags Jimin along with you. He crashes into your back, a steadying hand reaching out for your hip, a strangled grunt by your ear. You choke on your breath, and weakly tug at the collar as if it was the cause of your shock.

His hand is warm, the heat pulsating from his palm across your hip. If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now. You shuffle back a little, easing the tension in the shirt that tugged tightly against you. Jimin brings up a hand and anxiously pushes his hair back from his face, his jaw set so sharply you could cut your finger on it.

"Well, there's bound to be a few teething problems but I'm sure you'll both work it out." Namjoon smiles, eyes bright and full of mischief. "Come on boys, let's give them some space."

You give Namjoon the fiercest glare you could muster before he walks away, but all he does is chuckle at you. Hoseok waves brightly whilst Jin merely winks - until soon all that remained was you and Jimin, hot, flustered and already tired of it all.

"Okay, now that they're gone-" Jimin mutters, twisting in the shirt so that his back was against you. You shuffle back as not to touch him, your mind a hazy hot mess.

Your hand dances threateningly close to his ass so you snatch it up to your chest, staring at the ceiling and holding back an agonised groan.

He brings his hands up and after a few seconds you hear a loud rip.

You snap your head to him to see that he'd ripped the collar almost to the end of the shoulder, giving you more space. You let out a breath and you both adapted to the space, but his shoulder was still brushing you. At least his face was at a less dangerous distance from yours now.

"Do... you wanna sit?" He asks quietly, A faint pinky blush crossing his cheeks. You forced your eyes away, determined not to be distracted.

"Jimin, Namjoon's gonna flip about the shirt."

"No he won't-"

"Yes, he will-"

"Ah, can we just sit?."

You huff, weighing his words before silently nodding, moving forward slowly to give him time to get his brain in gear. He stepped behind you and you shuffled around so that you wouldn't be sat under him.

"Okay sit." You order, and to your surprise he followed your words. You both crash back into the couch, his arms pressing back against you, his legs spread and pressed against yours.

You sit, the silence stretching. You finally get the smell of his cologne, the silk of his shirt sleeve brushing against your arm. It was filling your senses, and though it had only been seconds, this was stretching for an eternity.

And there were all those emotions you felt towards him, rushing to the surface, bubbling beneath your skin.

"Okay this is dumb, why are we doing this?" You grumble, slamming your head back against the cushions, desperate to be away from his heady scent.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, so you pointedly avoid meeting his gaze.

"Because we don't want to lose our friends." His voice is low, the cogs turning in his head.

"Yes I know that, but why do we have to 'sort our problems' from inside the same damn t-shirt?" You snap.

"I... don't know. But I'm not gonna lose friends. Them or you - so get used to being stuck in this shirt with me."He purses his lips in thought, but you’re struck by his words.

"Well it's you who's stuck in here with me." You snark, unable to stop yourself before you say it.

He huffs out a laugh through his nose, and you can’t help but smile. You finally meet his eyes, and like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, he snaps his eyes away.

“So we have to like… work on our problems?”

“Apparently.” He murmurs, throwing himself back into the seat.  

The temperature feels ten times hotter than when you weren’t sharing clothing. Your hair sticks to your skin and you shift uncomfortably. Everywhere you touched him felt like it was on fire, every sensor in your body and edge and firing. You force yourself to breathe, in and out. Park Jimin was not going to get the better of you.

But he seemed affected too.

His swallows are thick, adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. You could see his ringed finger tapping in his leg whilst his other hand was pushing back his hair a little more aggressively than usual.

“So uh…” He starts, but tapers off when you look at him.

“Yeah?”

The seconds tick on, the gap between you non-existent. You avert your eyes and try to focus on the crowd that swirls around you.

You couldn’t help but notice the fact that things were going well. No issues were being resolved per se, but you hadn’t fought properly for a few minutes. And for you both, that was progress. Even if every word that comes to your mind flights away, leaving the silence to stretch.

“Maybe-”

“How about-”

You both blurt words at the same time, letting out an embarrassed laugh as you squarely avoid looking at each other. The music seems louder, making it harder to think about anything that wasn’t directly in your senses. Essentially you were stuck in a Jimin lockdown.

“You go.”

“Oh, I was just going to say I’m gonna need a drink or two for this.” you confess, heat burning across your face.

“That’s… Not a bad idea actually. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Jimin rushes, a little too enthusiastically. It seems like he’s a little on edge too.

Without thinking he tries to stand up, causing you to get ruffled inside the shirt as he staggers to his feet. You’re ripped through the collar of the shirt, your face getting knocked into his hip. Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat as he’s slingshotted back into the chair beside you. Your head reemerges through the hole, leaving your hair vigorously disheveled.

“I-, I’m sorry!” He grits, a reddish blush bursting across his cheeks.

You bring up your hand inside the shirt to touch it to your face whilst the other tries to right whatever mess your hair had become.

“It’s fine, just, we gotta move as one.” You mumble, flicking your gaze at him.

“Agh, this isn’t gonna be easy.” He sighs, shuffling to the edge of the chair.

You take a deep breath and follow his lead. You put a tentative hand on the couch to shuffle yourself to the edge, but jimin had the same idea. He puts his hands on top of yours, but instantly snatches it back. He mumbles to himself before turning and giving you a nod. With a steadying breath you both move, almost effortlessly getting off the couch together. It takes you by surprise at how straightforward that was, until the clatter of a noise reaches your ears over the din of the music.

Following the rattle of the noise you look down, only to watch your phone skittering across the floor.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur, watching it stop out of reach. “Jimin, my phone!”

He follows your gaze to where it lays on the floor, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by dancers. Your heart flutters as people step around it, totally unaware.

“Go, go!” He mutters, placing the palm of his hand at the bottom of your back, steering you towards it.

You flush as you’re pushed through, stopping just above it. You’re both jostled by the people around you as you stand guard above your phone. People were dancing dangerously close to it,and all it would take is one drunken fool to stamp on it or you for this to end in disaster.

“Okay let’s drop, carefully this time!” you order, but Jimin scoffs at you.

“I’m trying to be careful!”

“Just don't thrash me about again, that would be nice-”

“I’m not doing it on purpose! I can if you want me to-”

“Oh my god, stop, just bend over and help me!”

“That sounds dirt-”

He starts, but before you let him manifest that in your mind you start to crouch, the force pulling him down to bump his chest into your back. The heat of him crashing into you is instant, an insatiable warmth that spreads in contact. He puts a stabilising hand on your hips as his breath rolls across the back of your neck. A shiver trickles down your body despite trying to hold it back.

“What did you do that for?” He grunts, his mouth closer to your ear as he tries to rebalance himself.

“Y- you’re taking too long trying to argue!”

He presses himself off your back and shuffles down beside you. You finally get crouched on the floor, tentative hands placed on the sticky surface to stop you from toppling over. Jimin crouches next to you, his body facing yours with his leg behind you, tight against your back. It was hard to stay focused with him pressed against you like that, but you know he was just trying to stay stable. So why were you blushing so hard?

Carefully you reach out, your fingers just brushing the edge of the phone. You’re just able to get your fingers over the edge when you’re slammed from the side. Your phone is knocked out of your reach once more as you’re thrown onto Jimin, both of you landing in a tangled heap.

You let out a yelp as you’re falling, the impact to the side of you bristling with shock. His back hits the floor and you land awkwardly, right on top of him.

“Watch what you’re doing, you moron!” Jimin snaps after your head slaps onto his shoulder.

Your heart slams erratically against your chest, his words stinging. You’d come to blows many more times than you can imagine, but he’d never spoken to you in that way, not ever.

“God, I’m sorry.” you murmur, pressing yourself up off his chest, your face practically aflame.

“What? Oh, no no, not you! Whichever idiot smacked into you. Are you alright?“ He asks, his fingers gently gripping your chin and turning you gently in his hands.

Your eyes are wide as he stares at you, your fingers twitching on the silk covering his chest. Once he’s satisfied that you’re okay, he softly releases you. You bring your gaze back to his, beads of sweat rolling down your face.

Jimin looks down to his hand and back up to you after realising what he had just done, before he clenches his fist closed and puts it down to his side. His forehead is creased, his face burning bright.

“We should… ah, should get your phone.” His voice is low, barely audible above the music. But you hear him all the same, stealing your hand back from his chest.

You swallow thickly, stabilizing yourself as you crouched back on your own two feet. Your phone isn’t too far out of reach, but just beyond the touch of your fingertips. You strain, tugging Jimin along behind you. His throat is pulled against your shoulder, but it was no good, you still needed the stretch.

“Hold on.” You mumble, slipping your head out from underneath the collar.

You keep your arm inside the shirt sleeve for plausible deniability - you’d never be able to lie to Namjoon if he asks if you stayed in. But you pull your head out from the bottom of the shirt and reach out, gripping your phone and snatching it up. You shove it in your deepest pocket of your jeans and pat it, relieved.

You crawl back to Jimin and try to climb back into the shirt. He throws the bottom over your head and you push it through - only to slam your head into his arm.

“Ah, sorry!” You yelp, trying to push yourself past him.

He tries to guide your head back up through the collar but manages to get his rings caught in your hair. You yelp at the tug, your hands flying up to untangle him.

“Sorry, sorry!” He shouts, bringing his other hands up to slide his rings off altogether.

Once they’re off his fingers it’s easier to free your hair. With the rings tucked safely in his pocket and with gentle easing, Jimin moves your head up to the collar of the shirt. You rapidly brush your hair out of your face and look at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s flustered, roughly pushing the hair that sticks to his sweaty forehead back. His lips are parted and his eyes are fixed away from you.

Briefly, the thought of just running away from him crossed your mind. There’d be no more issues if you never saw his face again. No more embarrassment! Of course it was a silly idea, but it would be better than getting the opportunity to make yourself look like an idiot again.

You huff out a breath, blotting your damp forehead with the back of your hand. Your brush with the floor had left your clothes feeling sticky, and your brush against Jimin had set everything else on fire. You needed some fresh ai-

“It’s too hot for this, I need some air.” Jimin shifts in his spot, gesturing to the backdoor that was through the kitchen and blocked by a thick group of party goers. You follow the direction he points and nod enthusiastically.

“I wanna grab some water too.” You murmur. Ignoring his presence.

The people that stood between the cloying heat that you and Jimin were trapped in and the cooler climate outside were dense. You’d have to fight through, but the reward of fresher air to clear your head of Jimin was too tantalising.

With a look at Jimin, he motions with his hand for you to proceed. You roll your eyes at the gesture but you take a cautious step forward, slow and deliberate.

You started pushing your way through, bodies warm and fluid as you tried to champion the way. Jimin got ganged much closer to you, practically pressing into your back as you moved. You focus on finding a path ahead, ignoring the beads of sweat that form in your hairline.

Something had changed between you. This is the closest you had been together, the most you had touched, the longest you had been alone. And you wanted to hate it. You certainly hated how messy he must think you are. But you didn’t. A trickle of something different slides down your body, all your attention focused on his hand on you.

The music changes to something even louder and riles the crowd up. With a swell of movements in the dancers you’re sent flying, knocked by some erratic dancer’s elbow. With the force of the shirt Jimin is dragged with you, crashing into your back and pinballing you against another person.

Subconsciously you turn back to him - but as soon as you’re pressed together, you realise how big a mistake that was.

Stomach to stomach, his face is barely an inch or two from yours. His fingers wrap around your wrist, chest rising and falling as you stare at him.

The sweat that had rolled down his face had reached his throat, dropping down the column and hovering at his apple. The minutest of smirks pulls at his lips, and you realise you’ve been caught.  

He swallows, purposely. The bead rolls the rest of the way down his throat, dropping below his necklace before disappearing down the neckline of his shirt. The silk was clinging to his skin in the heat, and it took every ounce of dignity you had not to look down. You could see in your periphery, and that was more than enough. The man was hot, in every sense.

Your eyes flick back up, a different kind of heat burning up your face. You anxiously lick your lips, eyes finally meeting his. He has an eyebrow propped, a smugness radiating that let your blood boil. But his gaze drops to your mouth, watching your tongue gloss across your lip before looking back up. You can feel his breath hit your chest as his cheeks flushed more than they ever had. Now you were the one to have an audience.

Maybe this was it - the answer. You just needed a moment for everything to click, you could reach an understanding! It had nothing to do with how his stare left you feeling like you could burst in every way possible. Or that his pupils seemed to be blown wide, big enough for you to swim in. His fingers were hot against your wrist, and it felt almost as if his pinky was tracing the tiniest circles into your skin-

“I need the bathroom.”

The words are blurted loudly in your face, and for a moment you forget what reality is.

“I- what?”

“Bathroom. Gotta go. Bathroom stuff.” Jimin splutters.

Before you can respond - not that you knew how to -  he turns from you. His hand still holds your wrist as he pulls you through the crowd, uncaring as to who he pushes aside. All you can do is stare at the back of his hair and be lead.

“Jimin what the hell?!” You yell, ignoring the glares of the nosy partiers.

Your voice is lost, muffled by loud music and Jimin's deaf focus. You finally break free from the throng of people but your journey doesn't end. You're being whipped past busy rooms until you hit the staircase. The odd person watches you in fascination, some even snickering at what was written so plainly in glitter on the shirt. you felt your face burn, and make a silent note to fight Namjoon at the soonest opportunity.

He begins scurrying up the staircase, and with your wrist still firmly in his iron grip, you're soon flying up behind him. He casts a shifty look behind him to check you were still attached, his face flushed but his eyes focused. You have to remember to regulate your breathing.

"God, careful!" You snap, almost stumbling on the top step.

He doesn't acknowledge that he hears you, but then he slows for a second before darting down the winding corridor. He rushes into one of the rooms, a sprawling guest bedroom, before finally letting your wrist drop from his grip. It was almost bigger than your entire place, with an ensuite and even a door leading out to a balcony.

You close the door behind you before Jimin drags you towards the ensuite. Once he's at the open door he pulls his arms through the sleeve and slips out from the shirt. You know you're in the privacy of a bedroom but you suddenly get nervous, eyes turning to the bedroom door.

"We're gonna get in trouble." You murmur. Namjoon is a mind reader, you’d stake your life on it - he'll know you're separated and find you.

"You gotta relax. We're not gonna be spotted through floors and walls. Unless you wanna come in here with me?" He asks, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. Your stomach flutters, but it is a relief to have a flash of the jimin who pushes your buttons back.

"I -wha- no! Just hurry up, god." You splutter, turning your back to him.

"I won't be long."

With that he saunters back, his cheeks blown out as he sighs, and finally closes the door for some sweet separation. You step back and move to the balcony - the door was unlocked so you push it open and finally breathe.

The air is still warm, but instant relief from being cooped up inside with Jimin washes over you. You close your eyes and soak up the moment of peace, the shirt hanging off your solitary frame.

Your brain was barely processing the situation you were both in. It was enough being stuck in the same item of clothing as someone, but with Jimin? It was hard.

But then again, it was also easy. It was too easy to get wrapped up in him, to be so close, to let yourself be taken with him. It was a place you had hoped to be before, and somewhere you couldn’t go.

You and Jimin were tumultuous. You weren’t sure why it had to be that way. It’s not like either of you were toxic or nasty people - so why did you have to make a stand on everything? Why does every time you stand off with him make the hairs on your neck stand up, make your heart beat so fast in your chest you swear he could hear it?

Maybe it was because you did, after all this time, like him.  

You're snapped out of your thoughts by an erratic knocking at the door. You dart your eyes to it as if you could see through the solid wood, your heart in your throat.

"Y/N? Jimin? You there?" Namjoon calls through the door, and you swear under your breath.

"One second!" You cry, scrambling back from the door and scurry to the ensuite.

"Jimin! Open up!" You whisper at him, your voice a hurried rasp.

"What?"

"I'm coming in!" You wait a few seconds just in case, and then finally throw the door open.

"Y?N!" Jimin yells, scrambling back against the basin.

He was standing with his silk shirt in his hands, His lips parted in shock as he stares at you. His chest was heaving, the faintest glimmer of abs visible behind the thin fabric. Your face was burning almost as much as his, your jaw dropping. His hair was tousled, strands covering his wide eyes as he stared at you.

"Wh... Why are you topless?" Your breath is barely above a whisper as you fight to keep your eyes on his face.

"It's so hot!”

“I’m hot! Do you see me taking my clothes off?” You rush, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not lick your lips.

The thought of you and Jimin taking your clothes off together flashed through your mind and you internally screamed at yourself. This was not the time to unpack that, though you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before.

“Wah- uh, you... I was trying to cool dow- why are you barging in here?!" He rushes, taking a hasty step towards you. To have to sort through your frazzled thoughts before you remember why you were there in the first place.

"Namjoon! He's at the door!" As if to accentuate your point, Namjoon raps on the door again, calling out to you both.

"Agh!" Jimin cries, rushing forward and grabbing the hem of the shirt you still wore.

He begins to get into it as he pushes you towards the door. You could feel the horror fill your veins as the heat of his body slips in beside you, his hand at the small of your back as he guides you. Your arm brushes against his bare hip, the skin hot and smooth. You snatch your arm up and hold it against your chest as if burned and ignore the rapid change in your breathing.

"Why haven't you put your shirt on?!" You whisper, but he just huffs.

"To save time, Now show me your pretty smile and let's get rid of him so I can get dressed." Jimin's hand is on the door, and all you can do is stare at him, eyes wild.

"My wha-"

The door flies open, but you're still staring at Jimin. Pretty...?

"Well hello." Namjoon is leant against the doorframe, arms crossed as he gives you both a crooked grin. His eyes flicker to the room behind you, his eyes landing on the bed just beyond you both.

"Just needed the bathroom." Jimin rushes, hand once again settling in his hair.

"I didn't ask." His voice is light, but his eyes are fierce as he scans you both thoroughly.

"You were thinking about it, though." Jimin mutters. He tries to cross his arms at Namjoon, but with one arm under the shirt and one over he soon drops it. Your gaze was still stuck on him though. Pretty?

"How's the shirt working out, you both talking?" Namjoon asks, and you finally snap your attention to him. He's already watching you and raises an eyebrow. You scramble to stamp down your emotions, despite every nerve in your body sizzling.

"Oh yeah, we’re the best of friends now, right JimJam?" Your voice is bubblegum sweet, giving Jimin the goofiest smile you could muster.

"Totally! We've been braiding our hair and sharing juicy stories. We're basically besties."

Jimin beams at Namjoon, before stepping close and wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you. It was all part of the charade, of course. But as you're pulled back against his chest, you swear your heart could explode. His hand sits lightly on your hip, his every breath rolling down your neck. It didn’t matter that the move was practically hidden under the shirt.

"Yeah..." you laugh, but it's more of a choke as you pat his hand over the shirt and avoid meeting Namjoon's probing gaze.

Jimin clears his throat awkwardly behind you, his finger twitching on your hip. The heat between you swealters, every inch of your skin electric against his body.

Namjoon's eyes flick between you. You could see his thoughts brewing but they never pass his lips. Instead you and Jimin wait, his hands singeing your skin where they rested, his bare chest like fire against you.

"Well, I can see you're obviously working on something. But until you're actually convincing, you can stay in that shirt." He shrugs, grin widening across his face. With a final flick of his eyes, he pushes off the door frame and heads back towards the stairs.

"This is ridiculous Namjoon!" You yell at his back, crossing your arms across your stomach.

"Maybe - but you're both still wearing it." He smirks back over his shoulder.

You yell incoherent words at his back before huffing out a breath. Your fingers twitch in anger, putting a stubborn hand on your hip, the skin hot under your touch.

Faintly you realise the contact isn’t registering on your hip, and it isn’t until Jimin loosens his grip on you that you realise your hand had been resting on his. His hands fall from your body as he shuffles away, swallowing a throaty gulp.

You couldn’t look at him. It was all fun and games to begin with- oh, who were you kidding? This had been sucky, but something had shifted. You needed air, a chance to breathe, to not be tethered to the man that seems to haunt you.

“Need air.” Your voice a rasp as you step back into the room.

Jimin barely shuts the bedroom door before you’re marching to the balcony, not caring about whether you drag him along or not. Once you’re outside you heave in a breath, letting the air fill your lungs.

“That was too close.” You murmur, fiddling with the hem of the shirt.

“How was I supposed to know Namjoon would be keeping tabs?”

“I’m not blaming you Jimin! Why are you making this into an argument too?” You snap, your eyes fixed on the treeline on the edge of the property.

You feel him wriggling aggressively next to you, only to look back and see him climbing out of the shirt. You watch in horror as he slips out from under the sickly yellow material, keeping his bare back to you.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, scanning over the edge of the balcony for any sight of your friends. They couldn’t see you apart, they would never trust either of you again.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re meant to be working this out from inside the same ugly shirt-”

“No not right now. I mean, kind of. I just… Why did we let it get this far?”

You let his words hang in the air, your thoughts scattered. The thump of the music below drifts up to you, the mass of partygoers that stood out in the gardens laughing and chatting loudly. It seemed a world away from the tension that fills the air between you and Jimin.

He turns back to you with a look on his face so intense you can’t place it. But you could tell he was tightly wound - his shoulders were squared and his jaw was tight. He avoids making eye contact with you for as long as he can. But when he finally does, it was too easy to get lost in what you see there.

“We just argue, I guess.” you shrug, averting your eyes from his chest and stomach. This wasn’t the time to be fawning over him. It was hard - he was beautiful, there was no escape from that. It’s one of a million reasons you had liked him in the first place.

“You can't tell me you’re happy with that explanation.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Of course I’m not but what do you want me to say? You don’t like me, you’ve made that plain enough. Not everyone gets along.”

You bite your lip, admitting the words you’d been too scared to think out loud. But when you hear a faint gasp, your eyes shoot up to his face. His lips are parted, a look of abject shock written on his delicate features.

I d- I do like you.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear him. But you do, and the words strike deep.

You can’t open yourself up to this right now. Namjoon will find a way to know that you’re both separated, and the rest of the guys will drift away. You want to be civil with Jimin, not have your entire soul bared open to him. You couldn’t survive that.

“Can you please put your shirt back on?” You mumble, your eyes laser-focused imploringly on his face, but he doesn't hear you, barrelling on.

“It’s not like I enjoy arguing with you!”

“Then why are you making it so difficult?” Your voice cracks, the hurt of your never ending battles threatening to surface.

“Do you know how hard it is to get your attention-“ he starts, his fast flow of words immediately cut off as he gawks at you, delicate fingers slamming over his lips.

“What?” You blurt, processing his words.

“No no, nothing! Forget it.” he shakes his hands at you, eyes wide and face blushing a deep pink.

“Jimin! What do you mean, get my attention?”

“I… yeah. We’re always with the guys, I guess I didn’t know how else to get you to focus on me.”

“Why?” Your voice is faint, a million thoughts crashing in your head.

“No, forget it!”

“Jimin!”

“Ah, I like you, okay?”

The air around you thickens, the distance between you a thousand miles yet still too close. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest, your eyes wide as saucers and your skin prickled with goosebumps.

“You- huh?”

“I… like you. A lot. It happened pretty quickly.” He sighs, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"Why have you never told me?"

"Because it's humiliating as hell?" He laughs bitterly, his eyes darting to anywhere but you.

"Jimin..."

"No seriously. If I had told you, you'd reject me because why wouldn't you? All we do is argue."

"You think I'd reject you?" You ask, voice quiet as you step closer to him. His gaze finally snaps back to you at your movement.

"I mean, I... yeah?"

He runs a hand roughly over his face, turning his back to you. He looks so flawless in the moonlight. But he always looked flawless to you. Watching him fret like this was something so alien to you, but so human, so Jimin. You couldn’t let him suffer these feelings alone.

"Well, I wouldn't have." You mumble.

“You- what?”

Your brain scrambles, your heart hammering in your throat. He stares at you, wide eyes and chest heaving as if he was winded. Swallowing thickly you press on, despite the fear that churns in your gut.

“I wouldn’t reject you, Jimin. I… uh. I like you too.” You fiddle awkwardly with the hem of the stupid shirt.

The whole scenario had you feeling like a girl going through a childhood crush again. Though last time you had a crush on a boy who was fighting with you, you punched him in the nose. It was doubtful that would work this time around-

“Jimin?” You ask, watching as he shrinks back on himself.

You watch as he breathes, his chest rising and falling, the rapidly cooling night air raising goosebumps across his skin. It was hard to keep your brain on track.

After a moment he meets your gaze with a softness so potent it was enough to choke you.

In two steps he was on you, his lips crashing against yours. Your entire body threatens to shut down, the shock rippling through you. Before you even had a second to comprehend how good his lips felt against yours he pulls back, fear in his eyes as he worries.

You know then what you want. Who you want. You wondered why you wasted so long arguing to get it.

With your blood thrashing violently in your veins you reach your hands out to his face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek before you surge forwards. The feel of the gloss on his lips smudges as you let yourself be consumed, the slightest hint of cherry seeping in.

Kissing Park Jimin. You. You’re kissing him. Your eyes slam shut as you sink into him, electricity crackling on your skin.

With no doubt in his mind at all Jimin slides his hands to your hips, fingers curling into the shirt as he moves you back, pushing you into the wall. You moan into his kiss, and he smirks against your lips. To trip him up you press the kiss deeper, letting the tip of your tongue dance at his pretty lips, wanting to taste him.

He does you one better, turning the tides and pressing the kiss back to you, tongue flicking to you.

Just like normal, you weren’t one to back down from Jimin.

Letting a hand move into his silken hair, you brush it back the way you’d seen him do a thousand times. But instead of letting your hands fall out of the soft locks, you let the strands wind around your fingers and give it a tug.

Jimin lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss to pant against your lips. Pride flows through you, but so did a sense of admiration - it was something you wanted to hear from that pretty mouth over and over.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Y/N.” He whispers, tugging sharply on the shirt so that your body was flat against his.

You try to not let the gasp from you come out too loud, the lines of his body startlingly apparent as you’re pressed together.

“You think that scares me?”

At your words he smiles. It spreads slowly, but soon his whole face is alight, brightness shining out of him. With his fingers at the hem of the massive shirt, he gives you a filthy giggle before kneeling and slipping himself inside of the material.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, feeling the familiar sensation of being stuck in the stupid shirt with him again. But it was different too, it wasn’t suffocating like before.

His head popped back up through the ripped collar, grin still annoyingly plastered across his face.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to get me out of this shirt, Park Jimin?” You whisper, breathless as he presses you back against the wall.

“I can’t deny that you have too many clothes on.” He smirks, delicate fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your hot skin. “But there’s something… ah, satisfying about having you in this shirt.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s the matter Y/N, don’t think you can handle it?” His fingers circle agonisingly slow on your hips, a mischievous glint catching in his eye. He knows you so well.

“You’re gonna be the one who can’t handle it.”

“Prove it.”

You almost growl at him as he presses your buttons, but the burning in you meets the heat in your stomach. You need him more than ever.

You pull him back against you by the hair, crushing your lips together once more. He moans into you, nails pressing into your hips as your lips collide. You roll your hips against him, the fire in your veins white hot as he stutters against you. He breaks your kiss to gasp needily, eyes shut tight as your stomach brushes against the bulge in his tight jeans.

His eyes finally open, unfocused and swimming. But after a second he fixes his gaze on you, determined. A flicker of anticipation fills you, awaiting retribution.

His fingers move from your skin to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up until you have to help him. The shirt you were sharing was making it difficult, and you start to regret ever letting him get his way. But as soon as you are free he presses back into you, his hot skin flush against yours, his fingers idly tracing the straps of your bra.

Just with the gentle brush of his fingertips he nudges the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising along his trail. He presses his lips to your cheek, pecking slow, soft kisses across your cheekbone as he moves towards your ear. You sigh as his mouth moves lower, plump lips pressing dainty kisses down your neck. With you swept up, his hands move behind you and unclip your bra.

A gasp passes your lips while his own are still planted at your neck, sucking on a soft spot there. Your bra slides off your body, landing with a quiet thud on the floor of the balcony.

His fingers find their way back to your hips, slowly caressing their way up. An excited shiver catches you, and you feel him laugh against your skin. His warm hands find your breasts, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin before finding your nipples.

You suck in a breath as he kisses back up your neck. He pauses to capture your lips again, lulling you into him as his thumbs brush out across your nipples.

With your staccato breathing he smirks once more into your skin. Not one to ever be outmanoeuvred by Jimin, you decide it’s time to flip the switch.

You purposefully run your fingers down his stomach, featherlight and teasing. He hitches his breath, mouth detaching from your neck as he waits, anticipating your every move. His hot breath rolls down your neck, rippling off your chest. You hide a smirk in his hair and focus on your goal.

Letting your fingers rest on his belt buckle - no doubt something obnoxiously expensive - you begin to undo him as slow as you possibly could. You slide it off, inching it so little that you could feel him get restless against you.

“You’re a nightmare.” He whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“I’m just savouring the moment.” You offer softly, the soft clinks of the buckle resting against his thigh.

“You’ll pay if you tease me like this.” His voice is high, airy. The voice of a man in complete control - though you knew that was far from the truth.

“Mm, sure Jimin.” You smirk, bringing a hand up between you to his face.

You angle him back up to kiss you, which he does with ferocity. You smile into him, the power to provoke him rich in your veins.

Your hand sinks back to his belt, and with him distracted you pull it off him fast, dumping it somewhere on the floor and popping the button of his jeans. He gasps into your kiss, fingers automatically flexing across your breasts. You hold your reaction to yourself, intent on giving nothing away until you are ready.

You tug down his zipper, pressing it back onto him so he feels the teeth unclipping against his boxers. You knew they were gonna be some annoyingly expensive brand too, but the thought of getting him to ruin them for you was intoxicating. He leans his forehead against yours, the desperation rising his face palpable.

With a sharp tug you drop his jeans to his mid-thigh before moving your fingers back to him, running teasingly around his waistband. You didn’t have to look under the shirt to know his boxers were tented, his erection straining against the fabric. You dip a finger just below his waistband, tracing along the lines of his hips. He lets out a choked breath, hips subconsciously bucking into you.

“Y/N…”

“What?” You ask sweetly, moving your fingers to brush along his pubic bone. Your knuckles barely graze the base of his shaft, but he lets out a murmur of swear words as his eyes flicker.

Not one to be overshadowed for long, Jimin lets his hands drop to your hips and immediately flies to your zipper. He presses his crotch into you, and you feel just how hard he is for you. With a flapping mouth you watch him, challenging eyebrow raised.

Everything was a game. One that you were intent on winning.

Plucking at your courage, you slide a hand back down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. His hips stutter in your hand, a gush of air forcing out of his lungs.

He felt good in your hand - really good. Firm skin, warm and pulsing in your hand. You experimentally ran a finger along his underside, tracing the vein all the way to his tip. He lets himself go then, head thrown back, eyes tightly clasped. A low groan rumbles from his throat, his fingers stilling on your zip.

“Feel good?” You whisper, pressing your lips to his.

“Ah, mm…” Is all he can manage as his head falls back.

He’s totally lost in your touch, and you’d barely started. A ripple of excitement darts through you, the sight of having Park Jimin needy and in your hands was too powerful to overlook.

A small giggle falls from your lips, the tiniest of noises. But it’s enough to spur him back to reality with his dark eyes finally refocusing on you.

He takes a breath to center himself before pulling down your jeans slowly. You feel the material slide over your hips and sit above your knees. Your panties quickly follow, thrust down faster than you can blink.

He lets a hand drag back up your thigh, running across to where you want his hand the most. Your touch on him falters as anticipation runs through your body. Ever so slowly he lets a finger stroke across your slit, barely grazing your skin. You wrap your free arm over his shoulder, taking a grip of his soft hair.

He smiles at you, and you let your eyes drag across his face. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at your scrutiny. You can’t help but admire him: the way his lipgloss is smudged up across his cupid’s bow, the sweat that seemed to be dribbling so aesthetically down his sharp jaw, the blown out pupils of his deep eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you soak him in - and that’s when he decides to strike.

He slips his fingers between your folds, feeling how wet you are for him, before sliding his fingers up to your clit. He applies only the slightest bit of pressure but it’s enough to have you gasping at his touch. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you, letting his fingers move in the tiniest circles.

You slowly rock your hips on his fingers, knotting your own in his hair. You instinctively flex your hand only to have his hips instinctively thrust his cock into your hand.

Deciding to move things on just a little, you move back just enough to see his cock in your hand. His eyes flutter open at your movements, only to blow wide when he sees a trail of spit drop from your lips onto his tip. You catch it with your thumb and rub it into his tip, rolling it down his length.

A low moan leaves him, his free hand coming up to wipe your bottom lip ever so delicately. You meet his eyes, a fire burning there just for you. He drags you into a kiss, his hand scrunching in your hair.

His hand start to move again, circling you and getting into a slow rhythm on your clit. You moan into his kiss, starting your movements too until both of you were breathless messes.

The kisses became scattered and sloppier as you both let your hands work. The delicate touch of his fingers was enough to blur your vision, and your firm grip that was growing in speed on his length rendered him weak in your hands.

His own hand moves deftly, nimble fingers moving between circling your needy clit to running through your wetness. His jaw slackens each time he feels how wet you are for him, pride drifting somewhere in his lust-blown eyes.

Jimin is slick under your grasp, rock hard as you twist up and down his length. Staggered gasps fall from his lips, getting more and more careless as you drag him higher.

His circling gets a little more pressure, and it’s enough to send your head lulling back, barely able to focus on the task literally in hand. You returned his zeal, putting an extra squeeze on his length. The choke that passes his lips sends pride through your already thrashing veins. His face twitches; his forehead creases, pretty lips part slightly further, eyebrows jolt. You know he’s close, and you have the power in your hands.

But he has you, too. The pressure pulsing from your core builds, your eyes slamming shut as you're barely able to form words. You can feel it rising, teetering on the edge of something good-

-until he jerks his fingers from you. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, orgasms skittering disappointingly away from you. Your eyes open as you snap your bereft gaze to him.

“Fuck, Y/N, too quick-“ he murmurs, grabbing hold of your wrist and gently pulling your hand of his throbbing cock.

“Jimin?”

He’s fully flushed, strands of silken hair stuck to his forehead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his chest, eyes wild.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

“What if I wanted you to-“

“Don’t argue with me on this,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. But then his voice drops low, lips pulled into a deadly smirk. “I have to make you cum first.”

You barely have a second to swallow down a gasp before you’re pulled from the wall to crash against his lips.

You hold him against you with the collar of the shirt you were still trapped in, matching his energy as he kisses you desperately. Your hands are held tight against his chest, his cock resting teasingly against your stomach.

His hands let go of you to grab your hips, steering your towards the edge of the balcony.

Once you're spun he pushes you gently, bending you over to lean against the railing. Forgetting that you’re stuck in the same damn shirt, he gets yanked down with you, body flush against your back. He lets out a tiny giggle into the back of your neck and it’s as if your heart could stop from the sound.

The cool of the metal railing presses into your chest, hands bracing it through the shirt. You look to the party happening below, guests hovering out in the garden to escape the heat of the sweaty party. You were pretty well out of sight - as long as nobody looked up.

“There’s quite a few people down there.” Jimin’s lips are by your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

“Don’t think you can make me loud enough? That’s a shame.” You smirk, unable to stop teasing him.

“You’re gonna regret those words baby.”

The pet name strikes deep within you. It’s perfect coming from Jimin, warmth radiating across your body. And you couldn’t blame that one on the heat.

Jimin presses his body onto your back, thick erection settling just above your cheeks. You feel the heat of his hand smooth from your thigh round to the front of you. He takes a few swipes across your clit to make you jerk beneath him before his fingers drift further back.

He swirls a finger around your waiting hole, agonizingly slow. You gasp at him, pushing your hips back into him. His shaft brushes against your cheeks and you can hear him suck in a desperate breath. Spurred on by his own need, he dips his finger gradually inside.

It’s slow, pushing past his knuckle until his finger sits inside you. You feel your walls pulse around him, desperate for more. His hand stills, taking his time to pepper kisses behind your ear. He nips playfully at your lobe, taking his sweet time with each movement.

You know he’s doing it to make you suffer. And god were you suffering, using every ounce of restraint to not whine for him.

Slowly he turns his finger so it sits better inside of you. The graze of his knuckle causes you to moan, and you feel him smirk into your skin.

“That’s what I was waiting for.”

He slowly begins to pump into you. It’s instantly better than his stationary finger, but still agonizingly slow. You needed him, harder and faster.

“Jimin…” you whine, pushing your rear back into him. He tuts into your ear, stilling his fingers.

“You need to let go, Y/N. I’ve got you.” He punctuates his point by kissing a trail along your shoulder.

You bite your lip, his words hitting a little deeper than just him getting you off. You always had to be in control of yourself around Jimin - you had to win, had to be alert. You couldn’t let your emotions get hold of you.

But it was all out in the open now. He knew how you felt - and he feels the same too. Maybe you can let go, just a little. It didn’t mean you had to start losing arguments any time soon, though.

You nod, turning your head to where he was pressing kisses into your skin. He beams at you, eyes scrunching as he surges up to catch your lips.

His movements cause his thumb to brush across your clit, and you moan wantonly into him. He pulls away to peer over the balcony, the loud noise escaping you both. You follow his gaze, but you’d drawn no attention. Not yet anyway-

He looks back at you and winks, the move cheeky and completely Jimin but he silences by pulling his finger almost completely out of you. Your jaw drops at the sensation, but just as quickly he pushes it back inside you, as far as he can go.

You bite the collar of the shirt to muffle your noise. His skin was still hot against yours, a sheen of sweat building on your forehead as you focused on him.

Mercifully he begins to fuck his finger in you, curling inside you. You inhale sharply through your nose, eyes shut tight as you let yourself go.

He carries on for a few more pups before he lets a second finger coat in your wetness. On the next thrust into you, he gently presses in a second finger, and you feel yourself clamp down at the stretch. Jimin keeps pressing kisses against your skin, but he gets breathless, his own erection pressing tauntingly at your back.

He sits his fingers for just a few seconds, letting you get used to him before he works them back out of you. In and out, in and out. He’s slow again, teasing you to the point of madness. You groan in frustration, but it was just what he was waiting for.

He thrusts his fingers deep into you, fucking you fast. Your hips roll to meet his pumps, the drag of him inside you delicious.

He brings up two fingers to your lips, and instinctively you take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits. You make sure to meet his eye as you run your tip up the crack between his fingers, eliciting a groan from him and a buck of his hips against you.

He pulls them from your mouth and moves them between your legs. His fingers find your clit, and to match the rhythm that he was fingering into you, he begins to circle your needy bud.

It pushes you over the edge, almost literally. You cling onto the balcony as you’re thrust into it, Jimin sucking marks into your neck. You groan, the contact all over your body making you weak. The wet noises that surround you are pure sin, making you bite down on your lip. Jimin groans into your skin, teeth sinking softly into your shoulder as his fingers work fast.

“Fuck!” You yelp as his fingers brush your soft spot inside.

You slap a hand over your mouth as you stare down into the garden below, fear icy in your veins as you hope you’re not spotted.

Jimin doesn’t stop though. He hides his head in your neck, thrusting his fingers faster now that he knows your weak spot.

A few people below scan around them for the source of the swearing, but thankfully none of them think to look up. You bite your lip, eyes closing as you let yourself fall back into Jimin.

“That was a close one, huh?” He whispers, a lilt of a giggle in his voice.

“Shut up.” You murmur, voice cracking as he circles your clit so well you almost see stars.

“That’s no way to talk to the man who’s got two fingers deep in your-“

“Fuck, Jimin please!” You gasp, his next words dancing at the front of your mind.

The circles on your clit get defter, pressure hitting you just right as your hips start to roll uncontrollably. You grip tightly at the railing, unable to stop the flow of moans that echo from you. Being spotted from below is less important as you can feel your orgasm rising, your legs feeling weak underneath you.

Your skin prickles from the heat generating between your bodies, Jimin’s hot breath rolling across your neck as you flush harder.

“I’m gonna...” you whimper, your words lost to pleasure.

“Cum baby, all over my fingers.” His whisper sends shivers through you, a welcome change to the heat that dribbles down your temples.

He curls his fingers on every thrust to bring you closer to the precipice. You push back against him furiously, riding his fingers and your knuckles turn white on the railings. You feel it coil in your stomach, and you know you’re so close.

“Let go Y/N.” He whispers, breath ragged from exertion, but still peppering your marked skin with tiny kisses. You screw your eyes shut as you embody his words, letting yourself give in to the feeling.

“Jimin!”

Your orgasm crashes around you, a litany of swear words moan from your lips. Your walls clench down on Jimin’s fingers, twitching under his fingertips. You slam your hand over your mouth as your moans subside, wide eyes scanning the crowd below.

Heads turn in your direction, and before you can begin to scramble Jimin pulls you back from the balcony to stand flush against him. Your heart pounds in your chest, but the thrill that runs through your veins is undeniable.

He finally pulls his fingers out of you, the gush of wetness and noise make your face heat up. He wraps that arm across your chest and holds you against him, a wide grin wrinkling his eyes. You kiss him, soft and delicate, plump lips locking with yours.

Once you pull back he grins again, before moving the fingers that were in you towards his lips. your mouth parts as you watch him slip the digits inside, taking his time to suck off the taste of you. A light whimper leaves you as you watch him finally slide them out from between your lips with a pop, devilish glint in his eye.

Witha shiver you turn in his grip, pushing him firmly back against the wall.

He hisses lightly as his back hits it, and hisses louder as you're bungied in the shirt against him. He lets out a laugh and you do the same as you right yourself. But you can't keep yourself away from him as your lips are on his again. You flick your tongue at his, the taste of you on him.

“Wanna be inside you...” he whispers between kisses, his hot fingers idling their way up and down your sides. You groan at his words, nodding dreamily at him.

“God, yes please.” you sigh, feeling his lips trace kisses along your jaw.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles against your skin, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you both.

He pushes you back against the wall, the bite of the wood pressing into your skin.

“I’ve never heard you so passive.” He laughs, thumb and finger coming up to gently grip your chin. You grin at him, a flutter in your stomach.

“Don’t get used to it Park Jimin.”

He tips his head back to laugh, a pinky flush hot on his cheeks. All you can do is watch in awe, soak him in as he glows in the moonlight. But then he looks back down at you with the stars in his eyes and you realise that, yes - this is what you had wanted all along.

You bring his lips crashing back down to yours, letting your fingers knot in his dark hair and you touch him, drink him in. The silken strands flit through your fingers, and you idly think to yourself about him running his own hands through it. You can see why he does it now.

His thumb strokes across your chin, gently pulling your face from his. You open your eyes to look at him, the flush on his face even brighter.

“Ready?”

“Give it your best shot.” you smile, peppering his jaw with kisses.

You’re stopped in your tracks when he hoists one of your legs over his hip, a teasing eyebrow raised at you. Not to be bested, you hook your leg over his ass and pull him against you. You feel his erection sit against your stomach, hard and leaking onto your skin.

He takes hold of himself and strokes across your wet slit, coating himself. A withered sigh escapes your lips as you watch his frown deepen. His face contorts as he concentrates, teasing himself just as much as he was you. You lean forward to let a trail of spit fall from your lips and drip down onto him, coating his cock even more. You don’t know what possessed you to do it again, but the way he stuttered in a gasp made it well worth it.

Then with an agonisingly slow pace, he begins to press himself just inside you. Your mind clears, all that you can see and feel is Jimin. You had waited long enough.

A wimpery sigh strangles from you, Jimin pressing against your walls until he is fully seated in you. He was so warm, stretching you in all the right places, as close to you as he could physically be.

You give him an encouraging squeeze with your leg. He takes the hint and slowly starts to pull out of you, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he looks down to watch himself pull out of you. The drag of him is good, too good, as you let a warble of noises fall out of your mouth. He doesn't seem to mind though, his focus transfixed elsewhere.

"Jimin..." you whisper, fingers digging into his skin as he slowly begins to reach a rhythm.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, any mischievous glint in him gone. He was a man on a mission now, aiming to make you feel as good as possible. You could feel that in every stroke, the way he let you feel the length of him drag almost fully out before he pushes back inside you.

You start to roll your hips back at him, determined to not let him have all the fun. The tentative thrust of your hips had his head snap up to you, a fresh sheen of sweat glowing on his skin. You try to play it off coolly - another attempt to throw him off his game - but he squeezes your ass cheeks and holds himself deep in you, and your resolve melts away.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He smirks, and despite the need to fight him bubbling in you, you tip your head back and laugh.

"I guess that applies to both of us." You smile, pressing forward to kiss his lips softly. "Now fuck me Park Jimin, or we're really gonna have a fight on our hands."

He laughs against your lips, a gentle bubble that rises from his chest. But he takes on your words, pressing you hardest against the wall and hiking your leg higher.

He only goes slow for a few thrusts, getting a feel for you before he decides to ramp it up further. 'Typical Jimin' seems to float through your head, but you just grip him tighter, moving to meet his thrusts. You wanted to savour how full he made you feel for as long as possible.

His speed picks up, a hand moving to the underside of your raised legs and digs in deep. You let your own hands slide to his hair, keeping hold of the soft locks as he starts to hit harder inside you.

The sound of your skin making contact seems to echo loudly, and you barely spare a thought to people below working out what the noise was. You didn't care if they heard any more.

It was so hot inside the shirt together, and you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your chin and down your neck. This definitely wasn't helping the heat problem at all, but there was nothing on earth that would make you stop.  The edges of Jimin's hair were getting damper, and with every tug of his hair he let his head fall back into your touch. His throat was bared to you, salty beads dribbling down his hot skin.

You murmur a series of curses as you watched him, the thrum of him being underneath you almost unbelievable.

But then he pulls out a power move.

With fast thrusts he rolls his hips, his cock dragging almost perfectly across your soft spot inside, and all your senses seem to leave you. He repeatedly manages to hit your spot and you are sure he is planning to end you, it was the only way to explain it. Death by good dick, you could see it now.

"Fuck fuck fuck." you repeat like a mantra, The wet slaps that echoes just adding to the sensation.

"Wanna turn you." He mutters breathlessly, and a part of you is glad he's also feeling so affected.

You can't seem to vocalise an answer so you nod emphatically, unhitching your leg from its vice-like grip around him. He pulls out of you and you almost complain, but then his hands are on your hips.

He spins you and presses you against the wall, lifting your leg up and lining himself back inside you again. You're practically dripping for him, so it doesn't take much for him to push back inside. You push your ass back into his thrusts making his movements stutter, and with a playful squeeze he whines behind you.

A small smirk picks up on your lips as you roll your hips back at him, starting him out of his stupor and back to where you need him.

He pounds his hips into you and you have to steady yourself against the wall. The shirt bunches awkwardly, caught in your grip as the rough wood of the wall digs into your skin. Jimin presses his front against your back, the hotness of his skin pricking against your own.

An arm slides around your waist, guiding you, holding you steady as he ferociously fucks into you. His other arm settles across your chest, his fingers clenching across your collarbone. His mouth is by your ear, ragged breaths blowing across the taut collar of the shirt and hitting the warmth of your body.

“Y/N.” Jimin groans, the lilt in his voice uneven as his hips crash into yours.

Your entire body was tingling, the pleasure from your core and the bite of the wall against your bare skin a fight for your senses. You could feel perspiration form on your forehead making your hair stick to you awkwardly but it didn't matter.

Jimin filled you in every way. The hot touch from his fingertips on your waist and across your chest, the heat of his stomach at the base of your back, the soft moans that he sings by your ears.

"That's it, baby." He groans, his fingers curling onto your skin.

The hand that he has sat on your waist slinks across your stomach to reach between your legs, letting his fingers circle your throbbing clit. The pressure makes your eyes slam shut, letting your head fall back onto Jimin's shoulder behind you.

A small single laugh falls from his lips, but your inevitable clench off your walls around him cuts it short. He thrusts a little harder, rocking you against the wall. You have to brace yourself as he fills you repeatedly, his athletic hips working overtime.

The hand that has been pressed to your chest finds its way to your throat, holding just below your jaw. You let out a moan as you cover his hand with yours, pressing his fingers into your throat.

"Shit..." He gasps, his hips stuttering.

"I bet you've been wanting to strangle me for ages." You rush, voice cracking as he circles your clit a little harder.

"Only when I've thought about fucking you."

The moan that leaves you is barely human. In fact, you were barely human any more. you were turning to putty on his cock and under his fingers. It wasn't going to be long until you reached your peak.

His fingers press into your throat under your guidance, the delicious bite making your vision slowly pool. You gasp, shivers tingling down your body. He lets up his grip a little to let your blood flow one more, your body practically vibrating from stimulation.

"Close, Jimin..." you whine, rocking your ass back into him.

"Let loose for me, Y/N." He whispers, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

He lets out one last surge of energy, fucking into you and rubbing your clit with a renewed vigour. you throw yourself back at him without care, chasing the high he was leading to you.

With a few more pumps and circles on your clit, you come undone.

Your body pulses on him, clenching down hard as your orgasm crashes through you. Your fingernails dig into his hand and the wall, a strangled cry of his name bursting from you. You cum hard on him, helping him finally reach his peak too - you could tell by the way his hips stuttered, the way he throbbed inside you.

"Cum, Jimin." you whimper, rocking your throbbing core on him.

He doesn't hold back, pumping a few stuttery thrusts into you as he cums. He fills you, gasping against your ear as your walls milk him dry. He thrusts until he can’t anymore, slowing his hips as the fullness inside of you trickles out past his length.

Both of your movements slowly lull to a stop. Jimin holds your body close against him, ragged breath hot against your ear. Your skin is prickled from the heat but you nestle into him anyway.

He finally pulls his softening length from inside you, a small dribble of your combined juices trickle down causing shivers to cover your body.

Turning your head you smile at him, slightly out of breath and dewy. The sight of him is godly: Messy hair sticking to his damp forehead, a pretty red blush spreading across his cheeks, plushy lips parted and sucking in breaths. He smirks back, a lazy grin growing. He moves closer and kisses you, gentle brushes of his lips against yours.

His hand that sat on your throat moved to stroke your cheek, and you let your hands thread in his hair as your kiss trails off into small pecks.

The air is different around you. It’s still hot, swirling close and untempered. But there’s something else too - a coolness, an understanding. A person behind the battle lines. Someone you could lean on, and someone who could keep up with you in an argument.

You pull back from him and look at him, his eyes slightly starry and his lips swollen from all they had been doing. With a soft smile you rub your thumb across his cupid’s bow, wiping off the last of his lipgloss.

“We should probably go downstairs, right? We don’t want Namjoon sticking that long neck of his out here.” Jimin whispers, his eyes finally focusing on you.

You nod, but not before pressing one last soft kiss to his lips. Now you’ve started, there was nothing in the world that could stop you from peppering him.

“Yeah.” You sigh, voice cracking slightly.

But neither of you move, both unwilling to be the first to break apart.

“I don’t want to leave here either.” He smirks, but it’s softer. Not the smirk he throws out to purposely disarm you, though it still has that effect on you.

“Where do we go from here though?”

“I guess we’ll have to work that out. Maybe we can discuss it if you let me take you out tomorrow?” He asks, eyes darting over your face for an answer.

Excitement crackles through you, electricity rippling through your head to the end of your fingertips. A smile rises on your face, and you can see the relief flow through Jimin.

“I’d love to.”

“Perfect. Now, let’s go and rub in the guy’s faces how well we’re getting on.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling.

He kisses you one last time, hard and fast, satiated for now. With that you finally separate, Pulling your clothes back on before facing each other again.

The shirt felt big now. Too big.

You couldn’t get close enough to him. You both head for the door when you feel Jimin’s fingers interlock with yours. Your entire body flushes as you open the door to the bedroom, the wall of heat from the house hitting you both.

You’re both undeterred though, determined to find your friends. You pull him down the stairs, not caring at who stares at you both in the sickly shirt. The house felt hotter, a visible mist descending over the sea of people.

You find them where they last left you, congregating around the couch. When you stop in front of them with Jimin in tow, they all take it upon themselves to scrutinise you. It was quiet for a long while, and you could feel your resolve buckling. You didn’t want them to see through you, see what happened. But you wanted them to know that things would be okay. For all of you.

You can only imagine how you looked. Out of breath and flustered, both of your hair messy and fully damp. They couldn’t see your hands knotted together inside the shirt, but they didn’t need to. The demeanor change between you both must have been glaringly obvious.

“How’s it going?” Namjoon asks, glaring between you.

“Good, we, uh. We’re getting on. Yeah.” you smile awkwardly, completely lost on why you were being so suspicious. You had more guts than that!

“That was smooth.” Jimin grins. He was worlds away from you, utterly content and calm.

“Oh my god, shut up.” You roll your eyes, but give his hands an extra squeeze under the shirt.

“Where have you guys been? I haven’t seen you all night.” Jungkook asks with wide innocent eyes, and for a moment you feel like if he knew what had just been happening he would have been tainted.

“Oh, just… exploring.” Jimin smirks, and you fight the urge to pinch him. Who knew this would go to his head?

Well, you knew. You shouldn’t be surprised at all.

“About time.” Jin sighs, eyes still glued to his phone. The others laugh and throw in their agreements.

“What?” you and Jimin both yell, eyes scanning your ‘friends’ suspiciously.

“We knew you both liked each other. It got a bit weird towards the end there but we knew you’d work it out - or Namjoon would.” Hoseok shrugs, but his face is bright as he grins at you both.

“The shirt was a bit of a, well… drastic option.” Namjoon's smile was crooked, but his eyes were bright as he grinned at you.

“Oh… I don’t know what to say.” You murmur, heat creeping across your face again.

Jimin, however, throws his head back and laughs, slapping a hand on his chest for good measure. You stare up at him in shock, but you can’t help the smile that grows on your face. He was infectious. And your friends understood. You feel a tightness unfurl in your stomach.

“Well, it worked out. It worked out really well. I mean just so so good-”

“Jimin, shut up!”  You gasp, eyes wide as he winks at Namjoon.

Well, it’s good to know that the fire is still there between you. He was still impossibly infuriating and unendingly Jimin - but it was all for you. And it was only the start.

“Sorry baby.” He whispers as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. You flush at the move in front of the others, but easily melt into his side. You had been waiting for this, after all.

“I’m glad.” smiles Namjoon, warm eyes flicking over you both in the stained and rumpled ugly item of clothing. “Maybe we should burn the shirt, though. Just for hygienic reasons.”

[fruitcoops]

I was watching this video w Megan Rapinoe & Sue Bird (tumblr won’t let me link but it’s from 2 days ago on GQ- they ask each other questions but it’s like quiz style?) and didn’t know if you would want to do something similar for coops? Some of the stuff they said/how they acted reminded me of coops’ dynamic

Anon, this video was the perfect way to spend an evening. Both these women are my role models and they’re unbelievably cute together--go check out the video here if you have the chance! Their dynamic is a lot like how I imagine Coops, too! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Hey, Lions, we’re back!” Sirius waved at the camera and tapped a short stack on notecards on his thighs. “I’m Captain Sirius Black of the Gryffindor Lions and I’m here with my fiancé, Remus Lupin, to do another couple game.”

“The response to our last few interviews was incredible and we had a great time,” Remus continued. “Miss Marlene McKinnon was kind enough to drag us back in here to answer even more questions!”

“Do you want to go first?”

“Sure.” Remus cleared his throat and pulled the first card. “What are my parents’ first names?”

“Hope and Lyall.”

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. What’s my hidden talent?”

“You can sing.”

“Does that count? I feel like most people know that now.”

“Hmm.” Sirius thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his knees. “You can cook really well.”

“Thank you, baby. What’s my favorite accessory?”

Sirius brightened. “Your watch!”

“Yes!” Remus held it up to the camera—it was simple and elegant, with a leather band and a small face. He wore it with the clock against the inside of his wrist, just above his pulse point. “What is my dream travel destination or vacation?”

“Oh, that’s tough.” Sirius bit his lip in thought. “Seattle? Paris?”

“I do want to go to Seattle, but I’ve always wanted to go to Montreal,” Remus said. “You’ve seen my hometown, but I’ve never been to yours.”

Sirius frowned. “Really?”

“Really. What am I most afraid of?”

“I think…I think you’re most afraid of not being useful,” Sirius said after a moment. “For six years, your job was all about helping people, and it’s not now.”

Remus raised his eyebrows at the camera. “I was going to say the dentist’s office. Goddamn.”

“Sorry,” Sirius laughed. “Yeah, you don’t like medical facilities.”

“I mean, you weren’t wrong about the useful thing,” Remus said. “You still get a point for that. What’s my favorite music, song, or artist to listen to before a game?”

“You don’t have one.”

“That was quick. Half a bonus point for speed. When was our first date and what did we do?”

“Our first official date was just after All-Stars and we went to Sid’s, but we had been together for about three months at that point and just hung out at each other’s houses.”

Remus grinned. “Do you remember what day it was?”

“January 28th.” Sirius gave him a look. “I know for a fact you don’t know what day it was.”

“January 28th.”

“You only know that because I just said it!” Sirius smacked him playfully with his cards. “Next question.”

“What’s my favorite movie and TV show?”

“Jurassic Park and Avatar: The Last Airbender.”

He whistled the first part of the theme song as Sirius did the hand motions. “What’s my shoe size?”

“Oh, god,” Sirius muttered, staring down at the floor. “Eleven? Eleven and a half? You have smaller feet than I do, but not by much.”

“I’m a size ten.”

“Are you really?”

Remus pulled one sneaker off and handed it to him with a laugh. “Check for yourself. Oh, I’d love to know the answer to this one. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Sirius tossed his shoe back with a snort. “You make faces.”

Remus seemed surprised. “Do I?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a very expressive face and the second you’re pissed, it’s written all over it. It’s like—” Sirius pursed his lips and scrunched his nose slightly. “I can’t really do it, but anytime I see that I’m like, ‘oh, shit, what did I do?’ Also, you stop calling me baby.”

“That’s what I was going to say. What’s my favorite city to play in?”

“Not Florida.”

“Not fucking Florida,” Remus agreed with a grin.

“Gryffindor for sure.”

“Where was I born?” He gave Sirius a teasing look. “Do you know this time, or should I get my mom on the line?”

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Madison, Wisconsin.”

Remus glanced at the camera. “We got asked this question in an interview a few months ago and he had to call my mom afterward because he forgot.”

“She made fun of me the whole time,” Sirius pouted.

“What is my favorite food? Oh, you’ll get this one for sure.” Sirius hesitated and Remus’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“I’m a little torn. It’s either my grilled cheese or your dad’s turkey-cranberry thing. Actually, I don’t think you know what your favorite food is.”

Remus nodded slowly. “That’s a really good point. My first thought was grilled cheese, but my dad makes the best postgame sandwiches. I’ll give you that. What’s my favorite hobby?”

“Reading.”

“What did I want to be when I was a kid?”

“A librarian, until you started playing hockey.”

Remus leaned over and high-fived him. “You’re on a roll, baby. What was my jersey number in college?”

“Number six.”

“The transition was so fucking easy,” Remus laughed. “Coach literally came up to me a month before practices started and went ‘hey, what was your old number?’ and I told him, and he looked down at his clipboard and went, ‘cool.’. I got my jersey two weeks later.”

“Is this your last question?”

“It is, indeed. What’s my full birth name?”

“Remus Jehosephat Lupin.”

“That is incorrect.”

“Close enough. It’s Remus John Lupin, which I find endlessly funny.”

“Why is it funny?” Marlene asked off-screen. Remus hid his face behind his notecards as Sirius laughed.

“Because it’s such a basic middle name! I love Hope and Lyall with my entire heart and they’re wonderful people, but they named their sons Remus and Julian and then I think they got stuck. Like, you’ve got these two very uncommon first names and they sort of went ‘fuck it. John and Michael. We’re done.’ It’s just so funny.”

“Whereas your parents went the extra mile and gave you and Reg goddamn supervillain names,” Remus snorted. “The drama of it all, my god.”

“Alright, alright, my turn.” Sirius leaned his elbows on his knees. “What is my favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“How do I like my coffee?”

Remus hissed between his teeth. “Ah, shit, you always make the coffee. With a lot of sugar, right? It’s black with sugar?”

“It can’t be black if it has sugar in it,” Sirius laughed. “But yes, I do put sugar in my coffee. What are three things I never leave the house without?”

“Keys, wallet, phone.”

“My favorite TV show?”

“Why are you going through these so fast? Uh, Avatar.”

“Did I ever have a job that wasn’t playing hockey?”

“Nope.” Remus frowned. “Were you allowed to get a job as a kid?”

“I was not. What’s my favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Cookies and cream.”

Sirius made a buzzer noise. “Incorrect.”

“Is it chocolate?”

“Yep. You get half a point for that. What’s the first meal I ever cooked for you?”

Remus gave him a look. “You don’t remember what you cooked for me, do you?”

“Refresh my memory?”

“No way!” He punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m not falling for my own tricks. Next question.”

“It’s kind of a repeat from earlier. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

Remus fiddled with the edges of his cards. “You act all weird and Captain-y, and then you get quiet. Just cranky vibes all around.”

“Cranky vibes,” Sirius laughed. “Good to know. What are my favorite movie-watching snacks?”

“Popcorn and…Sweet Tarts?”

“Yes!” Sirius gave him a high-five. “Do you know what I like on my popcorn?”

“Butter and enough salt to kill a Victorian child.”

“Bonus point! What is—oh, shit!” He nearly fumbled the cards onto the floor. “What is my favorite movie of all time?”

“Indiana Jones.”

“Which one?”

“The one with Marian, because she reminds you of me.” Remus looked over at the camera. “I really don’t like snakes.”

“What is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning?”

“Oh, I think this requires a demonstration. C’mere.”

“Does it really?” Sirius sighed as he laid down next to him.

“For sure.” Remus cuddled into his side and laid his head on his shoulder. “Alright, the key to a true Sirius Black wake-up is getting all four limbs wrapped around the other person like you’re trying to suffocate them with affection.”

“Okay—”

“And then,” Remus continued with a grin. “I go, ‘honey, wake up’—”

“You absolutely do not.”

“In my head, that’s what I say. It’s very sweet. To answer the question, the first thing Sirius does is this.” He buried his face in Sirius’ chest and groaned loudly, then dissolved into snickering as Sirius’ chest began to shake with suppressed laughter. “Stop it, you’re ruining the demonstration!”

“You forgot the part where I have to peel you off me with pliers and grease,” Sirius teased as they stood up, dusting themselves off. The camera crew applauded and they both bowed. “Alright, where were we? What am I most scared of?”

“Losing your friends and family,” Remus said. “Also, spiders and most bugs.”

“You forgot one.”

“Which one? The dish soap bubbles?”

“Losing you.”

A vibrant blush tinted Remus’ cheeks and ears, and he floundered for words. “Oh.”

“You still get the points, though,” Sirius said mildly. “What city do I like playing in the most?”

Remus paused for a moment longer, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Uh, Gryffindor. You like the crowd.”

“I do.” Sirius smiled at the camera. “To all the fans out there: you are incredible and there is nothing like skating out with everybody roaring so loud the windows shake. Who is my biggest hockey influence?”

“Now, or when you were younger?”

“Now.”

“It’s Dumo, right?”

Sirius nodded. “On and off the ice. What’s my proudest career moment?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Remus said sarcastically. “Could it possibly be winning the Stanley Cup?”

“Just maybe,” Sirius laughed. “What’s my most famous celly, and which one’s my favorite?”

Remus grinned. “Lightning McQueen.”

“I hate it when you call it that.” Despite his words, Sirius was smiling. “It’s supposed to be cool!”

“Can you elaborate?” Marlene asked.

“I mean, most people who have seen him play know what I’m talking about,” Remus said, gesturing to the camera. “But Sirius’ famous celly is a double fist pump, and I call it the Lightning McQueen because it’s like ka-chow! It’s also his favorite one, though he dances when we’re skating alone or with a couple of the guys.”

“Shhh, they aren’t supposed to know that!” Sirius covered Remus’ mouth with his notecard. “This is the very last one. What is my biggest pet peeve?”

“When I leave my socks laying around the house.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! That drives me fucking bonkers. Marley, who won?”

“It wasn’t a competition,” she said off-screen. “Just a Q & A.”

“Who got the most right?” Remus asked.

“You two are hopeless,” she muttered. There were a few beats of silence. “Remus won, with sixteen and a half out of seventeen. Sirius, you had fifteen and a half.”

“No.” Sirius groaned and dropped his head into his hands as Remus whooped.

“Hell yes!”

“My bonus points let you win.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

Remus faced the camera with a victorious smile. “Thanks for joining us to witness my landslide victory—”

“It was one point.”

“And make sure to like and subscribe for more Lion Pride content! See you around, Lions.” They both mock-saluted, and the video ended.

[katyamorrigan]

‘A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat’ - Chp. 1!

Gang banner by @verdiris​

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat

A trunk of contraband items ends up in the hands of the Crows, but the item that piques their curiosity most is the large box labelled “MONOPOLY”. Kaz is out of the Slat for the time being, so of course they decide to play it. Was there ever a mission more likely to fail than six criminals with lethal skills and undeniable emotional ties all trying to build a make-believe empire without killing each other in the process? Answer: yes - all of the above while attempting to pull off a heist at the same time.

Turns out board games weren’t the only interesting items shipped into Fifth Harbour that afternoon, and now the Razorgulls are interested. It will take all of the gang’s effort to break into two buildings full of rival gang members, regain possession of the contraband, and make it back to the Slat in one piece. And that’s without the inherent strains of playing at business negotiations with a group of decidedly underhand friends.

Join the Crows as they cheat, steal, lie, and bribe each other, all before the heist has even begun.

I am so excited to finally get to share the fic that I have been working on for the @grishaversebigbang​ over the last few months - A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat! Getting to take part in the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 has been so much fun, and I have had the honour of working with an absolutely incredible gang of artists and the loveliest beta reader. It’s been an absolute blast, and this is one of my favourite things that I’ve written. Thank you so much to everyone that I’ve worked with, and I hope that you enjoy reading and admiring the story and art that we’ve created!

Here is everyone in my gang, with links to the work that they’ve created (some art may relate to chapters of the fic that haven’t been posted yet - the fic will be posted in its entirety within the next 3 weeks and the art will be linked within the fic on the relevant lines, but also there’s nothing that will spoil the story for you, so don’t worry!):

Corporalki: @davonysus​ (who is the most wonderful beta reader, thank you for everything that you contributed to this story!)

Materialki: 

@ciph3rrr​ with hilarious Crows-minus-Kaz Monopoly shenanigans from Chapter 1

@j-wirth​ ​with this brilliant Inej and Wesper moment inspired by Chapters 2 and 7

@bloodysusher​ with a gorgeous group moment in Chapter 7

@verdiris​ with some amusing Kaz geniusness from Chapter 7

@maximumbluebirdpatrol​ (link still to come)

@emmaxtw​ (link still to come)

There are 7 chapters in total, so I shall be uploading a new one every Tuesday and Saturday until 25th September. Look below the cut for an excerpt from Chapter 1, and if you want to read the full thing (and check out the collection of all the other incredible pieces created for the GVBB) then click either of the links. I hope that you enjoy!

AHOTBIWTOTG Chapter 1 Excerpt:

The front door of the Slat opened with a loud clatter, and slammed shut on itself seconds later. It made Inej jump in her seat as she sat going over ship documentation - which, as it turned out, there was a lot of - in the front room. Nina gave her a look, and Inej wrinkled her nose back at her; the Wraith didn’t startle easily, but equally, there was usually less banging of doors while she tried to organise her finances.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Came Jesper’s voice. “And I brought treats!”

“It had better be more exciting than that time you came back from Cilla’s Fry with meat pies,” Inej called back. “That was underwhelming.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nina chimed in. “I was more than happy to finish up those.”

“We know.” Matthias gave her a knowing look, and Wylan sniggered as she raised a single finger at him in response. 

The bickering that came from everyone trying to work on separate projects at the same time was one of the many reasons that Inej hadn’t made it past the first page of her sailing license. That being said, she joined in the chuckling at Nina’s expense.

“Oh, it’s definitely better than Cilla’s pies, but you’ll have to take a look for yourself.”

Jesper rounded the corner, a large trunk tucked under one slim arm. His face was bright from the brisk, cold air of the streets, and a bead of sweat dropped from his chin as he deposited the luggage on the table beside Inej. She sighed heavily as the wad of pages in front of her jumped with the sudden extra weight.

“Sorry,” Jesper grinned. She just rolled her eyes fondly in response.“Come on, who wants to see what I’ve got?”

Nina, Matthias and Wylan all got up from the neighbouring table and crowded around Inej and Jesper. It was uncomfortable having so many significantly taller people stood behind her while she was sitting, so Inej scooped up her papers and deposited them on the floor, taking their place on the table so that she could get a good look at the trunk.

“Where did you get that?” Matthias asked.

“Well, our dearest Kaz decided to put me on shipment duty and I had to wait around at the Exchange for a boat full of contraband to come in. It took hours, so as soon as I saw something that looked interesting, I used my innumerable skills to swipe it so that we could take a look inside.”

““Innumerable” is a long word for you,” Nina quipped. 

A bubble of laughter rose up amongst the group, and Jesper stuck his tongue out childishly. “Fine, no contraband for you.”

“No, I want to look!”

“Be nice, then. I get first dibs on anything cool because I found it.”

Matthias snorted. “What happened to the ancient rule of “finder’s keepers”?”

“I found the trunk, therefore I found anything that’s inside it by proxy.”

“Can we just open it up?” Wylan said impatiently. “I feel like we’re building expectations by arguing like this – it’s probably smuggled whiskey or something.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kaz?” Inej asked. The others gave her a look of incredulity. “Where is he, anyway?”

There was a brief moment of looking at each other for answers, before Jesper answered decisively. “If he was so worried about what came in on the boat, he would’ve gone himself. And if he isn’t here now, then he’ll just have to accept whatever is left over from the spoils.”

“We aren’t actually pirates, you know,” Inej said.

“Not yet,” Jesper stage-whispered in reply, and Inej found herself grinning, pleased. “Gather around, then.” He beckoned everyone closer like a ringmaster at the centre of a performance. 

Inej was surprised to find that her heart was actually beating faster with the thought of what might be inside. Wylan was probably right that they were getting themselves worked up over nothing, but all the same, she couldn’t help hoping that they found something rare or exciting. Perhaps it was gold? Guns? Something dangerous? You could never know when it came to the imports of Ketterdam, and for once Inej was glad for the intensity of life in the city. It could very well be something extraordinary.

The catches on the front of the trunk lifted easily, but there was a thick knot of string around the middle as well. Jesper struggled to untie it, so Inej slipped a knife from her sleeve and cut it off with one flick of her wrist. Giving her a mischievous look, Jesper dug his fingernails under the lid and with a crackle of flaking rust, the trunk opened.

On top there was a loose gauzy scarf clearly intended to keep moisture out of the trunk on the long sea voyage, which had definitely served its purpose; the red print had blotted itself onto the inside of the lid, and there were water stains on it where it had protected the rest of the cargo. Matthias and Nina went to grab it at the same time, but it ended up in Nina’s hands regardless as he passed it to her with a shy smile.

“I thought you would want it, so I was making sure no-one else got there first.”

Wylan made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Matthias’ expression quickly reverted to his familiar scowl.

“Aha!”

Jesper reached forward and pulled out two pistols, both only a little rusty and with a single blue gem stamped into the body of each. With impressive speed he turned around and mimed firing two shots at the wall before holstering them beside his favoured revolvers.

As Matthias pulled out a slim soft-covered book, Inej realised that she was far too focused on the discoveries of her friends and was going to miss out on finding her own treasures otherwise. Lifting up two more scarves – this time green and blue – she found another couple of books which she handed to Nina. Her friend’s focus was pulled away from adjusting her hair under her newly matching scarf to flicking through the pages and wrinkling her nose hard.

“I don’t recognise the language, but I can understand it well enough,” Nina mused.

“Where did the boat come in from, Jesper?” Wylan asked as he opened a small wooden keepsake box full of golden rings in varying levels of ornate decoration.

“Kaz didn’t say, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Nina tutted and continued her reading with Matthias peering over her shoulder. With fingers now covered in rings, Wylan pulled out a long fur coat that smelt of mould. Removing its furry cuffs from the case, Inej reached into the trunk for what seemed to be the last item: a big box made of thick card, with a green cover and the word MONOPOLY emblazoned on the top. The lettering was incredibly clear, but it didn’t look as though it had been done by hand or with a printing press. It had an odd shiny feel to the outside as well, like it had been coated in order to keep out the damp.

Inej sat it on the table and lifted the lid. It came off easily, and revealed a large square of that same thick card in bright red that unfolded into a larger board with regular markings on it.

“What in the Saints’ names is that?” Nina remarked, putting down her reading material.

“I have no idea. It was at the bottom of the trunk.”

“Is it a map?” Wylan suggested.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Inej murmured as she put the board down and looked at what was left in the box. 

Underneath that map-like object was a tray divided into several compartments, with little silver tokens collected in one, some colourful playing cards of an unknown variety in another, and some appealing little houses done in an unusual material in both green and red. Beside those lay a rack of what looked like currency, in the same shape and thickness as notes of kruge. Jesper immediately started rifling through it all, mixing up the various collections and inspecting them all with irregular attention. Although Wylan slapped his hand away with a tut, it clearly wasn’t out of lack of interest.

“What is it?” Nina asked again. Taking the board in her hands, she began to stumble through the words written on it.

“Collect 200… something, looks like it could be a currency symbol because it says “salary” after that, as you pass GO... Old Kent Road, another amount of money… sixty? Community chest, Whitechapel Road, same amount of money as the other square…”

As she turned it over in her hands, a slim white booklet fell out onto the table. Inej started forward and managed to snatch it up before anyone else did, although the gesture was useless as she immediately handed it to Nina, who skimmed over the first few lines and let out a delighted noise.

“It’s a game! A board game! Seems like you play by going around the board which has place names marked out on it, and you buy up the land so that you can build houses on it. And you compete to earn the most money.”

“Who’s sending weird foreign board games to Ketterdam?” Wylan said incredulously. “Are you sure it’s not got something contraband hidden in there somehow?”

Inej laughed. “Does a game based on financial gain not strike you as the most Kerch thing in the world? I can well believe a mercher bought this to educate their children on the fun of working under Ghezen.”

Wylan cracked a grin at that, and Nina snorted. She pushed the box towards him.

“Take a look if you want.”

He lifted up the tray of items and ran his fingers along the underside, then looked inside each of the little model houses as if there might be gemstones wedged in the base like on Jesper’s guns. Wylan tapped along the top of the board, but there were no hidden compartments or secret openings. It seemed as though they had genuinely come across some kind of entertainment from another country.

“Shall we play it?” Jesper said with a broad grin at everyone. “We’ve got nothing else on, have we?”

“I’m meant to have applied for my sailing license by the end of next week,” Inej said weakly, but she wasn’t much interested in her own excuse. This bizarre-looking game they had stolen by chance had already caught her attention far more than boat permits and crew-hiring documents.

“I’m happy to,” Matthias said, and Nina and Wylan nodded fervently as well.

“Perfect! Let’s not disturb everyone’s things down here, we can take it into another room.”

“Nobody’s bedrooms are big enough,” Nina complained. “Kaz is too cheap to give us enough space to actually enjoy our stay at The House of Brekker.”

“His bedroom is, though.”

Read more here!

[whimperwoods]

Part 6 of Gozukk and Anna. Hurt/comfort. Dinner invitation. Panic attack. Adjusting to this situation is going great for everyone involved I’m sure.

First part is here. Second part is here. Third part is here. Fourth part is here. Fifth part is here.

tw: slavery (past), tw: past abuse, tw: hallucinations (ish), tw: fear of noncon (fairly vague, trauma-related rather than situational), tw: anxiety, tw: PTSD, tw: panic attack, tw: disorientation/dissociation

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! I continue to be astounded by how long it is, so thanks, y’all!

Tag list: @redwingedwhump, @nine-tailed-whump, @thehurtsandthecomfurts @kixngiggles, @bluebadgerwhump, @dragonheart905, @carolinethedragon, @whumpzone, @newbornwhumperfly, @cupcakes-and-pain, @much-ado-about-whumping

****

Anna dozed fitfully for as long as she could manage, curled up in the middle of the rug in a tight ball. She was comfortable enough, comparatively, but everything was so new and unfamiliar that she kept waking herself up with a start, realizing all over again that she was alone in a place full of the unknown. She could lie still, mostly, and the only part of her that shook anymore were her fingers, but as exhausted as she was, she still couldn’t let go.

She let herself get up again when she realized the clean water and a spare rag were still sitting not too far away. It wouldn’t hurt to clean the table and its collection of cartographer’s tools, or the handful of small chests beside it. When that didn’t feel like nearly enough, she steeled herself to enter her master’s bedroom, remembering what he’d said about being welcome to his blankets.

It required a deep breath on each side of the entrance, but she made it into the room, finding it surprisingly sparse. His bedding looked comfortable, the sleeping rug thick and lush, and enough furs and blankets that she could have disappeared into them entirely, if they’d seemed like a safe place to hide.

She laid the furs out straight and folded the blankets neatly, then moved onto dusting a small folding shelf that held the heavy, padded clothing that went under the small collection of orcish-style armor that sat beside it, and a second set of every-day clothes, not quite as nice as the ones he was wearing now, but clean and well-made and not as clearly much-mended as the ones Djaana had brought for her. Below the armor and clothing was a small collection of trinkets that looked like mementos, rather than really valuables.

A handful of large, frightening-looking teeth were strung together into jewelry she was sure looked fearsome on the orc’s large frame, but were safe enough to pick up and dust beneath. There was a small wooden box, decorated with a skeleton’s arm holding a set of scales, and it rattled slightly when she picked it up, but she didn’t open it. The extra lamp oil had a clear purpose, as did the small set of bone pipes, but the small stone disk painted in many colors and the ragged scrap of some larger piece of rich fabric were less clearly explained, and the dagger on the shelf, unlike the one in his belt that he’d tried to hand her, looked old, still sharp, but short from having been sharpened an untold number of times, oddly sized for its hilt.

Once everything was as clean and tidy as she could make it without a broom or more water, she went back to the other room, feeling her shoulders relax as soon as she was out of his sleeping chamber even though she hadn’t fully realized she was tense. She laid back down, facing the tent’s entrance so that she wouldn’t be surprised, and dozed again, so lightly that she didn’t so much dream as hallucinate, sure she heard Master Kir’s voice outside or saw him entering the tent until she started awake and realized she was still alone and (maybe) safe.

She wasn’t sure if it was a relief when her master returned or not.

Gozukk opened the tent flap gingerly and walked quietly, as if he thought she might be sleeping, but when she pulled herself up onto her knees to kneel properly with her head down, he settled farther into his feet and stopped trying to be so quiet.

“The scouting party returned with meat a while ago. We’re almost ready to eat. I thought you might like to join us. You can meet the rest of the tribe, and the rest of my sister’s family.”

She nodded quietly from her place on the floor, feeling tongue-tied. Was this something she should thank him for? Or was it some kind of a test? Was she meant to prove she would be loyal to him? Was she mean to prove she was grateful? Her breath quickened, and her new master took a half-step toward her before he stopped himself short.

Then he started moving again and, somehow he was kneeling beside her once more, getting down where it was harder not to meet his warm, deep brown eyes and just keep looking at them, so oddly open and unglaring.

She almost stopped breathing entirely.

Gozukk held his hand out, an offer, maybe, or an order. She couldn’t be sure yet. Feeling her cheeks heat faintly, she placed her less injured hand into his. He squeezed her fingers gently, reassuringly, and then raised the back of her knuckles to his lips, as if that was the only way he knew of telling her things were alright.

She wondered if he would be as gentle kissing her anywhere else, and blushed more heavily. She couldn’t think about that, couldn’t bear it, couldn’t sit here waiting for things to turn, waiting for the large, gentle man to become just a large man, after all. She licked her lips and tried to steady her breathing.

Her master released her hand.

“If you need to eat in here, I can bring you food. But I had thought I would send you to sleep in my sister’s tent, and it’s a little crowded to take you to if you haven’t had a chance to meet people yet. We could also ask the midwife, Mazogga. She lives alone, but there are a few babies who might come early if something goes wrong, and that seems - a lot to ask of you to help if there’s an emergency.”

Her head shot up before she could stop herself, her eyes meeting his in surprise. “Oh, I - I thought I was -” She felt tongue-tied again, not sure what she could say and what she couldn’t, what would offend to say out loud and what would offend to leave unspoken.

“I thought the deal was that I would - serve you,” she finally said, her voice fading halfway through, failing her as it devolved into a whisper.

“The deal is of no concern,” her master said, something about him steely again, Chief-like. A shiver ran through her. “I don’t expect them to make good on their promises, and I don’t expect to let them through peacefully again, if they enter our territory at all.”

Her tongue was dead in her mouth, numb, her mouth too dry and her mind too blank to ask any of the half-formed questions that swarmed around her.

Gozukk reached forward and lifted her chin with the side of his knuckle, incomprehensively gentle for what felt like the 50th time, but still in a way that left her mind scrambling to keep up, as he said, “You are a guest now. It was clear that if you stayed with him, you would not live as long or as healthy as you should. It is not right, to kill for nothing, or to kill so slowly, to kill the spirit first and the body second. There is no honor in it, and whatever else you may have heard of us, we are people of honor.”

He sounded certain, sure in a way that was too deep to question, in a way too still to change, and her heart raced like it was terrifying, but she wasn’t sure it wasn’t reassuring, too.

She licked her lips again, as if it would make her able to speak again, as if they felt any more dry than the rest of her mouth. Was she breathing? She suddenly wasn’t sure that she was breathing. But then she realized she was, heavily and too fast.

The chief cupped her cheek for a moment, a brief and gentle touch, and then rose to his feet, retrieving a water skin and bringing it to her.

“Here. Drink some. Maybe we won’t push it, tonight. I can sleep out here, in case someone comes to wake me in the night, and you can sleep in the other room.”

“No-” she said immediately, on instinct, before her mind caught up and she realized the only reason she’d said no was that she knew better than to accept a ‘favor.’ Best to stick within the rules. Within the original plans. Best not to rock the boat.

She cleared her dry throat. “No, I - I can do it. Go outside, I mean. I - I can eat with the others.”

Her head was down again, and she was beginning to recognize that this new - chief didn’t like that. She wanted to raise it back up again, but she felt stuck, unable to bear the effort it would take when it felt so wrong to do so, unable to make herself look up and bare her neck, even a little.

Gozukk shifted, fidgety or dissatisfied, or perhaps both, and Anna was suddenly, completely certain that he was angry with her, somehow, that she had done something wrong, that everything was about to turn for the worse.

Her heart rate picked up again, thumping too fast in the side of her neck, pounding in her ears, and her breathing shallowed, speeding into little half-gasps as an electric wave of fear washed over her body, her skin breaking out into sweat and goosebumps.

She was making noise, she realized, her breath too loud, drawing some kind of pained, animal sound out of her throat.

Gozukk’s big, gentle hands were on her shoulders, raising her up, and she realized she had hunched forward, collapsing in on herself, bent nearly to the ground. He lifted her chin again, his dark eyes still open and kind as they met hers. “Hey,” he said gently, a little over a whisper, speaking like she was a spooked animal, and maybe she was, whimpering in spite of herself, her mind blank and frightened and struggling to grab ahold of the hand under her chin, the eyes looking into hers.

“Hey, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

There was a loud roar in her ears. She wasn’t sure where she was. She wasn’t sure if there was a where to be, or if all the world was the tight, frightened body thrumming with the beat of her heart. Gozukk was real. He was real. He’d let go of her chin once she looked up, but he’d put his hands back on her shoulders, and they were real, and he was real, and she didn’t think he was angry. She didn’t think he was angry. She wouldn’t be allowed to gasp like this if he was angry. She wouldn’t be allowed to sit here, a wounded animal, wrapped up in her own body, in her own breath, useless to him, unable to look at him the way he wanted to be looked at, to tell him what he wanted to hear. She wouldn’t be allowed. Would she?

She reached up and wrapped her hands around his wrists.

Yes. He was real.

Her mouth was hanging open again, like a dog. Surely, he was about to see she was no better than a dog. Surely, he was about to shove her away.

He scooted closer, still on his knees, and then lifted his hands off her shoulders and slipped his wrists out of her grip, taking her hands in his own instead and then pressing them to his chest, over his heart.

“Can you feel me breathing?” he asked. “Breathe with me. You’re alright. I just need you to breathe with me.”

She nodded, her breath too erratic to speak. Breathe with him. She could do that. It was an order. It made sense. She could do that.

As hard as she tried, her breath slowed only incrementally, deepening only a little bit at a time, coming under control too slowly, too gradually.

She found herself moving closer to her master, closer, resting her forearms against his chest so that she could feel his breath there, too, leaning her forehead into the front of his shoulder so she could watch his chest rising and falling, his belly filling and emptying, his body breathing calmly like hers couldn’t - couldn’t - could.

By the time she had control of herself again, she was cold and clammy with sweat, her throat sore and her head aching, and she’d curled up into Gozukk’s chest, scooted so close that her knees touched his on the floor, and his hands were still around hers, warm and gentle, not pushing too hard or holding too tight, and now that she didn’t have to think so hard to breathe, she could feel his pulse under her hands, his heart beating strongly and steadily.

She needed to apologize. She needed to apologize, but she was exhausted, even more than before, emptied out and hollow.

The chief sighed, relieved, and she felt his head sink down, too, leaning in toward her and then stopping.

She wanted - something. Needed it.

She didn’t know what it was.

“You’re alright,” Gozukk said again, this time not just to reassure her.

She nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, Sir.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, “Or will you not be - safe?”

Maybe she was too tired. Maybe losing her breath had emptied out too much of her mind. She didn’t know what it meant to leave. She didn’t know what it meant to be safe. She didn’t know what she wanted.

He unentangled one of his hands, keeping the other over hers, over his heart. His free hand cupped her face again, but didn’t lift it from his shoulder. She leaned into the contact, because whatever the answer was, it wasn’t that she needed to worry about his hands, when they were here, like this, gentle and away from her hair, away from her neck, away from the parts of her that weren’t on show.

When he moved his hand away from her face, he asked, “Is it alright if I pick you up? I can tell you need rest. Let’s just - get you settled and then we can worry about food later. Or tomorrow. Come here.”

She wasn’t sure how to answer the question, but she was sure that “come here” was alright, and she wrapped her arms around his neck of her own accord, not sure how else to help.

He gathered her up into his arms and rose to his feet without the use of his hands, and the thought of how strong he was sent a shudder through her, but now her ear was against him, and she could still hear his heartbeat, and it was the same as it had been when she was just breathing, breathing, leaning into his heartbeat.

Her heart leapt into her throat as he began to lean down, laying her in his bed, but then he straightened up immediately, almost too quickly, leaving her on the softest surface she’d felt in a long time. She wasn’t just on his sleeping mat, she was on top of the neatly straightened furs, layers of them, and the mat underneath it, and then he set one of the blankets beside her, still folded, but easily within her reach, and she felt another electric wave running through her.

No. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t allowed to have this. This wasn’t for her.

She started to sit up and found her master watching her, standing too still, like he was trying not to frighten her.

“You need sleep,” he said, his voice mild but certain, brooking no argument. “When you breathe so hard like that it’s - it’s like fighting. Like battle. You need to rest.” His face broke into a faint smile. “And perhaps celebrate, but I’m not sure you’re ready for that. Come out to the fire if you decide you are. If you wake up in time. Or sleep, and we’ll know you’re healing. I’ll try not to wake you.”

Her traitor tongue was dead and useless in her mouth again, but as she laid back down, the soft furs cradled her body and she found herself relaxing into them like she hadn’t relaxed for a while.

“Hmm.” Her master’s little hum was one of approval, and then he was walking away, and she still felt a little like her limbs were floating over the bed, skimming over the top, airy and weightless, and she wasn’t sure she could get up if she tried.

She let her eyes fall closed as her limbs came more and more back into her awareness, her own again, and getting heavier, sinking into the furs beneath her, heavier and heavier, too heavy to move, too heavy for her to get up, even if she wanted to, her eyelids too heavy to open back up again, but the tent was still quiet, even if the world outside it wasn’t, and there were no lamps in here, and little light, and then she was sinking - sinking - asleep.

[officerjennie]

Grief

CW: MCD, alcohol abuse, mentions of wanting to commit suicide, canon typical injuries. Ship: Lambden. WC: 7.4k+

Brief Summary: Aiden dies and Lambert suffers for it.

Denial

It wasn’t until the next summer that Lambert knew what had become of him.

Spring had always been their time of the year. At the end of winter, before the snow had even properly cleared from the path, Lambert was the first to leave Kaer Morhen behind. The trek was treacherous, slick with melting ice that would freeze over during the nights, proper footing hard to find and starving creatures more than willing to test their fading strength against anything that moved in a desperate attempt to keep living. Lambert’s blade was stained with blood by the time he made it to the first town on his path - the first one that accepted witcher patrons at their inn, at the very least - and it took him a good hour to properly sharpen and clean it in the flickering candlelight of his room.

That spring, there was a pit in his stomach that grew with each step he took. Nerves, thoughts he didn’t want to think, things he didn’t want to have bogging down his already fucked life. For the first time in a long while he didn’t envy Geralt and Eskel’s affinity with animals, preferring the slow trek as he headed to the coast, towards a small fishing village that saw his face near the beginning of each and every year.

With each step, that pit grew and hardened, his hand shaking as it gripped the sword at his back. Lambert paused several different times, taking detours, taking missions he didn’t need to take and spending an extra night in a brothel despite how little interest he really had in the woman he’d chosen to spend time with - all to waste time, to keep the coast from coming into view over the hills that surrounded it.

It still came into view. He stood on the same hill he did every single spring, smelling the damned dandelions and clovers that covered it, salt carried on the wind to greet him along with the sound of gentle water on sand. With a deep breath he took it all in but it did nothing for the shake of his hands, did nothing to make it any easier to take that next step forward.

The people all knew him, or at least knew of him. Children still stared at him like he might toss them to a harpy if given a chance but he was fine with it, fine with that, kept them out of his way and out of the danger that haunted a witcher’s footsteps. But the people knew him and knew he wasn’t there to cause more trouble than necessary, for the most part leaving him be as he walked the rather quiet streets towards the noise and bustle of the early morning fish market.

Crowds weren’t his thing, but Aiden loved them. He’d asked him once why he loved this little village so damned much, Lambert himself seeing it as nothing more than the next, and had been surprised when he got an honest and rather vulnerable answer.

“Reminds me of home,” the cat witcher had said, no faux humor to tint his wistful tone, his eyes on the fisherman that shouted and tossed their catch from their carts. It had reminded Lambert of nothing but the reek of fish guts, his face turning as much as his stomach, and yet…

And yet, here he was, making his way past the bustle of the fisherman once more. Their early catch was tossed here and there, the reek of dead and still dying fish heavy on the air, his nose and tongue both regretting every step that he took down the slick streets. Some of the men knew him and nodded his way though it was no friendly greeting, just a greeting, just something to acknowledge that he was there and existed. He did not nod back.

It was the outskirts of town where he was headed, down to the little beach just passed where all of the fishermen docked their fishing boats and hung their nets for the little ones to fix up. They were already busy at work, their little fingers no doubt pruning up as they stitched any holes that might have been made in the netting, some far too short to work on the whole netting, their hands showing the speed of familiarity with the tasks. Lambert watched as he walked past, as he always did, a little mesmerized with the simplicity of the hard work that civilians took part in.

A life he would never know. He readjusted his sword on his back, its weight a constant in his life, feeling the sand move beneath him as he made his way to their little beach.

The same rock as always stood waiting for him, just outside of the reach of the high tide. He didn’t climb up on it - that was Aiden’s spot when he got their first, as he did so many of the years. The cat witcher would sit cross-legged on the rock, not caring that it was damp, his daggers still strapped to his hip save one which he would use to peel an orange as he waited. The oranges were never ripe this time of year but he always managed to have one, a mischievous glint to his eye as he fed himself the fruit on the sharp blade, his dark brown eyes sharp as they caught sight of the wolf.

“About time, little Lamb,” he’d always say, just to get a rise out of the younger man. His braids would sometimes be disheveled by the ocean breeze, the scars on his face stretching from his grin, fangs showing and almost shining in the sunlight.

Aiden always looked like he belonged here. Lambert never did. He leaned against the rock, arms crossed as he stared up at the sky, taking the time to watch the clouds roll over head as he waited for him to show up.

By late evening, Lambert knew it would not be that day. His nausea had not left him. If Aiden had been there, he would have weaseled them a place to stay with one of the fishermen’s families, always able to get his way, always able to convince anyone of anything - but Aiden was not there, and Lambert had no real liking for people.

He camped out in one of the trees nearby, not bothered with a fire despite the chill in the wind, hardly able to sleep with his hands and legs refusing to stay still.

The next day, he had to hunt for food, refusing to touch the fish that already invaded every one of his senses. It was the work of but a few minutes to find enough small game to tide him over, Lambert building a small fire just at the edge of the beach to cook it over, keeping an eye on the rock while he slowly turned a few skinned rabbits over the flames - rabbits he barely touched despite how he knew he needed the food.

By the end of the week, he had grown restless out of boredom, having to travel to the next town over to find some sort of contract to keep his hands busy. Hunting down a troll by himself wasn’t always the wisest decision but it ended up being a younger one, inexperienced, felled easily enough and filled his coin purse enough for a few pints and a warm, soft woman to keep his bed company for the night.

Spring was heavy in the region before Lambert finally gave up waiting, no hint of his kitty cat in sight, his nerves back in full force for another reason beyond their last conversation. His heart was a bit heavy as he left the fishing village and all of its occupants behind, heading down further south, wondering if he’d run into Aiden later that year or if he’d have to wait until the next spring before he saw him again.

It was a coincidence, he told himself, that brought him to where they’d parted early the fall before. Not concern that brought him there, not concern that had made him hesitate either, the journey of naught but two weeks taking him all the way until mid-summer to greet the hills that he’d seen Aiden stroll down as he walked away from him, a forced tune on his lips as he’d twirled one of his daggers between his fingers - his anger showing.

“A witcher?”

The innkeep’s good eye pinned Lambert in place where he was leaned forward on the bar, Lambert’s fingers twitching, unable to stay still. As the man cleaned one of his mugs he seemed to chew the question over in his head, grey beard sticking to the condensation on the outside of the mug, the entire place around them mostly quiet and stinking of the seedy clientele that usually inhabited it.

And Lambert would know, given Aiden and him had been there not a year before. Had stayed here off and on for over a month, getting into fights whenever it pleased them, grinning as they were kicked out of the place at last, falling in a drunken stupor of laughter over each other as they carried themselves away to make camp in the woods nearby.

But as far as he could tell, this old man’s memory was nothing. He didn’t give any hint of remembering Lambert as he put his still dirty mugs away, turning to wipe the counter with the same rag, making Lambert grow impatient for his answer.

“We’ve had a few around these parts before,” the old man said at last, jerking his head to the side as he caught sight of a fly. He swatted it with the rag and continued to clean, not looking up at Lambert as he spoke to him. “Besides you, there were a couple last year. One stuck around longer than the other.”

“How long?” Not that the information would do him much good, but it was all he had to go off of - if the old fart remembered at all.

“A few days,” the man shrugged, continuing as if his words meant nothing, “the rest of his life, turns out.”

He stopped after that. Stopped as if that was the end of the story, wiping his counters like the smudges weren’t stains soaked into the wood that no one could ever clean - but that couldn’t be. Lambert shook his head, running a hand through his short hair - that couldn’t be the end of the story.

“Better finish talking if you want to keep your head, old man.” He growled it but it wasn’t anger that had his heart picking up its pace, and no matter how much he blinked Lambert couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

“Found the body by the swamp.” The words were distant despite the man’s closeness, but there was a ringing growing in his ears that made the world seem far away. “Didn’t have much use for a witcher’s body, or what was left of it. We don’t bury what’s not our own.”

The man spat, and Lambert found himself escorted out of town by sword point. He couldn’t recall how many of them he hurt on his way out, but he’d never forget the sound of that old man’s nose breaking under his knuckles.

Anger

‘By the swamp’. It was cold and wet, the air thick with the stench of rotting things. Lambert had waded in and out of the waters, some up to his waist, most not past his shins but every bit of it clinging to him and weighing him down. He was soaked through to the bone and shivering but he’d been shivering when he got there, his hands shaking and no amount of clenching his fists able to stop it.

It wasn’t very good direction to go off of, ‘by the swamp’. He could have been searching for hours and hours (and he would have been, there would have been no stopping him from tearing every inch of the swamp apart to prove the old man wrong, this wasn’t the end) but eventually part of his mind caught up with him.

Aiden had been about to hunt something. A troll, maybe, or maybe it had been a chimera - fuck, Lambert stopped to lean against a tree and think, stepping up onto its protruding roots to get out of the cold water for a moment.

He’d been hunting something. Lambert held his face in one hand and breathed, telling the rest of his thoughts to quiet themselves so he could focus on where his friend had been going - because Aiden had told him, he was certain of it, exactly where this beast had been.

It took longer than a moment, but he remembered, and hopped off the roots to once again wade further into the swamp.

The southern border was where the beast had been hunting and picking off civilians. It wasn’t a contract that had brought Aiden there but a necessity for some potion or another; Aiden had loved dabbling in that sort of thing, crafting his own concoctions that the sight alone of made Lambert’s stomach turn.

Lambert could stomach a lot of things, but actual poison was a bit beyond his limit. And there was no doubt in his mind that some of the shit his friend had thrown together was going to kill him some day.

Would have- no. Lambert took a deep breath through his nose but it did nothing for the rolling of his stomach, his thoughts turning to nothing but a dark cloud as he waded through the afternoon into the evening.

Eventually, he found his way through the swamp. All the way through, his feet now mostly on solid ground, the area covered in the stale scent of a troll - a troll that was no longer here, as evidenced by the bones he eventually found, the corpse long since rotted away to nothing. Didn’t mean the smell was gone. It made his nose twitch but he’d smelled worse, seen a lot worse too, but he kicked some of the bones for good measure just to hear them snap.

They weren’t right by the water’s edge. A good thirty meters away, give or take; Lambert looked around but saw little evidence of a fight here, no matter that time would have eroded most of it away. Still, some destruction told the stumbling path of a dying troll and he followed it, not sure what good it would do but having to know. 

It hadn’t made it far. Though its body was gone Lambert could guess, if his friend had indeed faced the troll, that it was poison that did it in. That was if…

No. This wasn’t the end. He shoved over a leaning tree that had been nearly cracked in half before, hitting it hard enough for it to finally snap and crash down into the swamp, taking down branches of surrounding trees as it went and disturbing the wildlife around him.

Maybe he was more violent than he thought. His fist clenched and unclenched, wanting nothing more than to continue on with idiotic, needless destruction - but he put the need behind him, letting his hand rest at the hilt of his sword for now, the promise keeping his nerves calm as he stepped over some weather dampened debris.

It took the rest of the evening to find him.

No body was left for him to find. The clothes were barely there, barely recognizable in their torn and shredded state. Scavengers had picked the body clean and barely left any bones, and most of what was left of him - of what had been him - had sunken into the mud and earth.

Lambert knelt next to the place where someone had died. Fingers trembled as he reached out to touch what had once been a part of his armor - a shoulder pad, thick and sturdy, meant to take hits and oh, it had taken many over the decades. 

No weapons left. Lambert looked around, the swamp quiet save for the ringing that grew in volume, not even the wind registering as he noticed not a coin purse nor a sword nor even a single one of the many throwing knives that used to glint in the sun as Aiden threw them with deadly precision at his enemies. They’d glittered just like his feral grin, sharp and always hitting their mark just like his words, his dark eyes not even narrowing in his anger as he tore anyone apart who dared to think his cheerful grin or lighthearted demeanor an easy target. 

Nothing was left now. 

It didn’t mean it was him. Lambert swallowed and wiped at his blurring vision. A body looked like a body, like any of the rest, especially when it was so eroded and scavenged away. It could have been any fool in armor no matter that it might look like his armor: leather scraps strewn here and there, the same black buckles that strapped it onto his chest, a few pieces of the over abundance of belts that Lambert had made fun of him for over the years.

He leaned back on the balls of his feet, running a hand once again through his hair. There wasn’t even enough evidence to suggest it was a witcher, specifically. No potions nor smells left, time having taken that evidence with it, and without any of that it could have been anyone. Anyone could have died out here, slaughtered by a troll that they pissed off. It could have been anyone.

But something caught in the fading sunlight, something silver and shaped like a coin connected to a broken chain, and it was not just anyone who had faced the troll and died for it.

Lambert broke the rest of the troll’s bones, but it did nothing to clear his vision.

Bargaining

It was possible that time could have helped heal his wounds, but time had never been kind to him.

Lambert hid the medallion in one of his pockets, never letting it leave him but refusing to look at it. And over the years that’s where it stayed, weighing heavy in his hand whenever he felt the need to hold it, grip it, squeeze his hold on it until its dull edges bit into his palm and made him bleed. It didn’t matter how long had passed - years, he knew that much, but how many he could not recall. All the springs and winters bled into the next, the rest of the year meaningless, his only counter for it all being when he had to leave to meet his brothers, when he should leave to go to the coast…

The first time his feet took him to the coast, he almost broke the rock. Their rock. It broke his fist when he’d hit it and he left a sizable crack along its side, a crack that he touched with ginger fingers that had nothing to do with the pain shooting straight up his arm. Fingers that shook like his breaths and could not even hold sand, let alone grip onto the past that left him cold and alone.

Nothing he did would take it back. Bring it back.

He tried being alone. Avoiding everyone he could, not taking a single contract for over a year and a half, living off of nothing but the land and his own anger that fueled his hunts. Trolls stood no chance against him, every single one of them he sniffed out and slaughtered like the last, not caring that they were sentient beings and knew nothing of what caused his rage.

It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. He could feel his friend’s disappointment in him growing.

Lambert tried not being alone.

“You’ll be joining us, then?” Geralt’s bard had too loud of a voice for such an early morning, his hair curly and wild in a way that made Lambert regret his choices. His chattering on and on made his knuckles grow white where it gripped the table in front of him - but this would be good for him, would be good for the emptiness that took him some nights.

And the too much that filled his days.

Geralt rode Roach, as he always did, a little ways ahead of them as they marched down the path. For his part Jaskier trounced about the place, too much energy, too loud and too carefree and always too much. It wasn’t as if Lambert had never been in his presence before - before, he had known him. Had met him and thought the bard was just another cute face, even flirted once or twice just because he liked the lack of fear that flashed across most humans’ expressions when he dared to speak to them, but he’d known long before Geralt and Jaskier had become a thing that his brother wanted him.

So Lambert had known Jaskier and his ways. Hadn’t minded his voice back then, how his laughter was quick and easy, how his words could be barbed and as sharp as throwing knives. How his hair curled just like undone braids that the air had caught and caused to go wild. Back then, he hadn’t minded.

Now he couldn’t make his thoughts stop. 

Months dragged on. Summer came and started to go, and the bard made his skin itch and his hands sweat. There were whole nights he couldn’t sleep so he forced Geralt to let him keep watch instead, knowing the looks his brother gave him but ignoring them all the same. Just as he ignored the whispering when Jaskier thought he was out of earshot.

“Is he alright? He’s been so quiet.” Lambert’s jaw tightened as he sharpened his weapons at the edge of their camp, the bard’s back turned to him, Geralt nudging his shoulder in lieu of a verbal response.

“When was the last time he slept?” It had been three nights but Lambert didn’t tell the lark that, continuing on climbing up in the tree to at least avoid their eyes, letting them think whatever they’d like.

“Geralt, I’m worried about him-”

“Leave it be, Jaskier.”

On and on, for weeks on end. Pitying eyes following his movements as if he was a child and didn’t notice them, the never ending humming in the mix, that bright laugh and wide grin making him want to rip his hair out. 

It was too much. And it was made all the worse when Geralt had to go track down some beast on his own, leaving Lambert there to protect his bard, not able to escape his chatter or worrying looks. 

“I’ve really enjoyed you traveling with us this year.” Jaskier plopped down on the same rotting log as him, not caring that it would stain his expensive clothes, a genuine smile on his lips that made Lambert want to snarl at him. “Not that I don’t adore traveling with Geralt alone - he might be a right arse when he wants to be, difficult to talk to at times, comes back reeking of monster guts and certainly doesn’t enjoy the finer things in life, and...hmm, where was I going with this?”

“Away from here, I hope.”

“Oh, right, yes!” Jaskier snapped his fingers, ignoring Lambert’s sharp comment and leaning towards him, the glint in his eyes making him nauseous. “It’s just nice to have someone else around for a while. Especially someone who gets him in ways I can’t, you know? I adore him, I really do, but it doesn’t matter how much I tell him that if he won’t let me in. With you, well...he trusts you. Trusts you to not hate or judge him, or shrink away when he comes back all hyped up on potions. Doesn’t matter how many times I tell him I won’t, there’s always a...hesitance, in the way he approaches me.

“It’s just...nice to see him relax, and not worry about those sorts of things.”

Lambert didn’t know why he was being told all of this. Didn’t care, just wanted the bard to leave him alone. He stared at him until he stopped talking, watching the way the lark sighed wistfully, catching the longing in his gaze as he stared off in the direction Geralt had trudged away into an hour before.

What had he done to deserve this?

“I think it’s good for you, too, Lamb.”

Lambert went ridged, body tensed and fingers suddenly clawing into the log beneath them. ‘Little Lamb’, his memories purred at him, sharp teeth glistening at the end of a laugh - and he hated it, hated everything about this damn bard, his carefree nature hiding his sharp tongue and the damn tunes he never stopped humming and the knife he carried at his hip-

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he spat, and he didn’t stick around to hear anymore, his eyes wild and his heart racing with the rush of memories trying to over take him. Some part of him heard Jaskier’s surprise but he couldn’t process his words, jerking away from their log, leaving in a rush and breaking out into a sprint the moment he was out of sight.

He didn’t know how long he ran. His lungs were burning, his cheeks raw from branches clawing at him in his haste, burned by the tears he didn’t want to admit were spilling down his face. But eventually Lambert had to stop, doubling over as it all finally took over, leaving him sobbing and screaming in anger at the memories - because that’s all they would ever be now. The past, trapped in his mind, poisoning him from within.

Lambert was too far away to hear the chort that found their camp. Even if he had heard it he would not have reached Jaskier in time to protect him, the bard’s screaming reaching no one, luck being the only thing that saved him from death that night. But his injuries were great and he would never walk without a limp again - and the grave, betrayed look in Geralt’s eyes when Lambert at last returned to them told the truth they all knew:

It was his fault.

Depression

No amount of gull would drown out the truth, but Lambert tried his best despite that. Inn after inn, tavern after tavern, spending coin he didn’t own himself to make his thoughts stop and his chest from caving in on itself. Sticky fingers he’d learned from one of the many he refused to think of, swiping coin purses and hating the stir in his gut at the knowledge that the very man who taught him this would be disappointed in him for using it.

‘Thought better of you, little Lamb.’ He heard the words as he drank himself into a stupor in a dark corner of some shady inn, not even aware of what town he was in anymore; they all bled into the rest, faces meaningless and lost to him, all the continent the same without a person to meet up with and make it mean something.

He’d betrayed his own brother’s trust. Lambert laid his head on the table, not caring about the grim and spilled drink there, his own half-empty glass tipping and leaving the short hairs on his head wet with drink.

All he’d been charged with was watching the bard, and he couldn’t even do that. Left him on his own when he’d known danger was in the area, and now he’d live the rest of his life with a pain no magic they’d found could fully take away from him. After he’d swore to stay there, protect him, he’d left him-

Lambert swayed on his feet when he jolted up, the walk from his table to the bar a blur. He didn’t bother walking back, half laying on the bar when his drink arrived, downing it and not even noticing most of it spilled down his front. 

Hadn’t even stuck around to face his foolish mistake. Didn’t even give Geralt the time to chew his ear off, had just. Left the both of them. Left them there and avoided the both of them like a bloody coward, only knowing the extent of his mistake a year later when he’d run into Eskel on the path.

Jaskier couldn’t make it up the mountain to winter with them, and Geralt had stayed behind with him - and Lambert had been too drunk in some tavern near the coast to realize winter had come and went.

The drinks eventually stopped coming but he wasn’t aware enough to even realize it, his coin purse as empty as the five others he’d dumped the contents of onto the slick wood of bars across the country, his woes never going quiet but the pain being dulled like his senses.

His fault. His head swam even against the cold grain of the wood his cheek was pressed against, even with his eyes shut tight. ‘Such a loyal wolf,’ his memory supplied, a hand soft on his chest, calloused fingers tracing the scars there. ‘Why’d you take that for me, hmm?’

Lambert sniffed, choking back the emotions that were supposed to be deafened and dulled by the gull that filled his stomach so full it hurt, raising his head just enough to hold it up with his hand.

“It’s who I am,” he gruffed out to no one - but it was a lie. It’s who he was, once, loyal to a fault, loyal to the point of self detriment.

Who was he now? 

Acceptance

Aiden was dead.

Lambert knew this, accepted it, hated himself for it. There was nothing he could do to change that and he found himself too much of a coward to join him, though he wished to, desperately wanted to as the inn beds stayed cold at his side.

He traveled alone, save for the scattered moments where he ran into Eskel and allowed the other wolf to join him. Though the memories flooded him at times their contents became hazy. Hearing a tune that was almost familiar could still bring him to his knees but he forgot what Aiden’s voice sounded like, the exact shade of brown his eyes and hair were, what his last words to him were. And when he lost the cat medallion that he’d hidden in one of his pockets he almost didn’t have it in him to feel the grief anymore, hands shaking as he searched and searched to no avail, breaths quickening but the tears refusing to come.

Slowly, the memories left him. No longer plagued him and that was a poison of its own, forgetting. But some things never left him alone.

He’d become a liar. A thief. A betrayer. Geralt never trusted him again, not to the extent he used to, and Lambert accepted that because there was nothing else he could do - he had betrayed him and doubted himself for it, knowing it was possible he would do it again. 

It was easier to avoid them all. Live life out on his own, hardly heading home for the winter, sending brief letters instead that bore no further information than him being alive and mostly unharmed. And that was how Lambert lived for a long, long time: on the path, alone, stealing coin whenever he felt the need to, lying his way through the continent and holding no one close to him.

Vesemir had long passed, gone one winter when he fought a leshen that was too quick for him. Geralt went not long after his bard, heart broken and unable to go on, leaving two wolves left and one that refused to return to the keep. Eskel took over the care of Kaer Morhen and was the only one there to read Lambert’s brief letters, but eventually he, too, was taken by time, Lambert’s letters being delivered to an empty keep that caved in from the unkept snow on the rooftop.

He knew he was alone, but sent them anyway, his only connection to who he used to be, the life he once had. And one spring even found him following that familiar path to the coast, the fishing village a ghost town of crumbling houses and the forest taking it over - but his rock, their rock, was still there, jutting out onto the beach.

As he smoothed his hand on their rock, he thought about his friend. The one he’d loved and never confessed his feelings for, the one whose laugh and smile he couldn’t remember. The one who he knew had a quicksilver tongue but for the life of him he couldn’t remember anything he’d said, who’d been irresistible and insatiable yet Lambert could not remember any specifics of their times laying together.

He remembered him like a vague notion of a feeling he’d once had, and his heart and chest ached for the absence - because he could not remember him. But what did it matter, in the end, when Aiden would never recognize who he’d become.

Mistakes

In the quiet of their shared inn room, the dust thick in the air, sunlight barely peeking through the windows at that early hour, Lambert found it...difficult to pretend anymore.

They lay naked together, the blanket just barely resting above Aiden’s hips, the bruises and teeth marks Lambert had covered him in the night before already faded and gone. Lambert was always the early riser between the two of them; Aiden could sleep the whole afternoon away if allowed, his eyes fluttering as he dreamed, dark lashes touching dark brown skin as his breaths ghosted across Lambert’s chest.

It made Lambert’s heart ache. One of the summers of his youth Vesemir had taken him aside, Lambert’s cheeks stained with hot and angry tears, his tiny fists at his side as Vesemir tried to calm him down.

“You feel so much, little pup,” the old wolf had told him, rough hand on the top of his head to keep him grounded in place.

And he was right, damn him. Lambert felt too much, and it ached, and he wished he could swallow it all down and forget and feel nothing like the humans said.

He had nowhere to keep his hands but on Aiden’s body, holding him as he waited for his friend to wake, aware of every inch of their bodies as the seconds passed like minutes.

It was sex. Nothing more. And that was fine.

Except apparently it wasn’t.

Aiden slept in too long and had to be forcefully pried away from Lambert’s body, the cat witcher whining that he was warm while Lambert griped and bitched that they had shit to do. Once that mischievous glint in Aiden’s eyes returned and he remarked that Lambert was near the top of his to-do list, Lambert unceremoniously dumped him right on the floor, leaving his friend cackling in his wake as he hurriedly got ready and stormed out of their room.

A morning like any other. Bar fight got them kicked out of the inn with the threat to never step foot in there again, Lambert’s cheek barely stinging from the pitiful punch the drunken bastard had managed to land on him - only because Aiden had purposely distracted him just for a laugh, which they both shared as they left town, hanging off each other like they were the ones too drunk to hold themselves up.

Their friendship was why Lambert refused to acknowledge anything more. Why it was enough, why he shoved any fluttering heartbeats out of his mind. He groped his friend’s rather sinful arse just to see Aiden’s teeth, his friend whipping around so fast the silver beads worked into his braids almost smacked him in the face. 

Aiden was on him a moment later. It was always an equal toss up how he would react: would he tackle Lambert and attempt to wrestle him to the ground, lethe body belying his strength, determined to ‘teach Lambert a lesson’ full of teeth and one very memorable evening including a knife that ended up carving a deep scar into his shin; or would he pin him against a tree, holding him there and not letting him move, teeth accompanied by a wicked tongue that could leave Lambert whimpering as easily as those skillful fingers that loved to dance across his skin.

Lambert loved both equally, and Aiden wouldn’t have let him keep his hand if he didn’t love it too.

“Still feeling frisky, little Lamb?”

Lambert scowled over at his friend as he readjusted his clothing, not bothering to tell him to shove it at the nickname - it had never worked before, and likely it would just give Aiden ideas. But he had been caught ogling, unable to help himself even after they’d frotted against each other right there on the path where anyone and their mother could have walked up on them. He was still hot just from the thought, his soiled smalls speaking just to how frisky he’d been feeling when Aiden had pinned him.

“Can’t waste the whole day away, kitty cat.” He risked patting Aiden’s arse one more time, ducking away from the knife swipe aimed right at his head, jogging ahead with a laugh, his chest lighter then than it had been in years.

This was enough. What he had, what they had between them. Traveling together as the path stretched onward, taking turns keeping watch as rain deafened the forest around their night campsite, picking up in the morning with a tune on Aiden’s lips that was sung in a tongue Lambert knew not a word of.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

Lambert cocked his head as he straightened back up from where he’d been rolling up his bedroll, finding for once Aiden’s eyes held no humor in them at the offer. He couldn’t name what he saw in them then, but it made his heart pick up in rhythm, made his tongue thick in his throat when he said, “then kiss me.”

But Aiden didn’t. Didn’t make a single move towards him, leaning back on his heels, dark eyes staring off to the side far away from him as he frowned.

“I want it to mean something.” Aiden licked his lips, a nervous tick, something sheepish in the way he tilted his head to mirror Lambert’s own expression. “More than what it usually does. I want…”

He was hesitating, not saying what Lambert both never wanted to hear and suddenly realized he’d wanted to hear for the longest damned time. It made his hands tremor, his throat suddenly feeling tight - but it was all too much so he clamped down on the feelings trying to override everything, shaking his head and turning away from his friend, refusing to look at him.

“Isn’t it enough?” It had to be, it was, he didn’t need to think and overthink everything they said, everything they did around each other. He didn’t need to know why his tongue got tied when he made Aiden laugh - that genuine, surprised laugh that he only managed to hear on very rare occasions - why he couldn’t keep his hands still when Aiden was sitting near him, why he felt so much it felt like he could drown if he let it all go.

He didn’t need that. It terrified him, the thought of drowning in his own feelings, and the last thing he needed was to drown in them right in front of his friend.

“You,” Aiden started, and Lambert didn’t dare to look up at him, “don’t want…”

“I want what we have.” His words were a bit rushed, his movements jerky as he shoved his bedroll into his pack, not bothering to roll it up neat and tidy like he usually did. “I like what we have. Isn’t that enough?”

“Right, yeah. Of course it is.”

He did look up then, and hated himself for it. Because he would never forget the pain he saw - in the way Aiden refused to look back at him, his head ducking down, the shake of the breath he took as he turned away from him.

Lambert swore to himself then and there that he’d think on it later. Not there, not then, but later, when he could sit by himself alone and let the feelings come as slowly as he could manage so they wouldn’t overtake him.

The rest of the morning was spent mostly in silence. It stretched between them like a fresh wound, sharp and throbbing at the edges, making Lambert grind his teeth and wish his friend had said nothing at all. As unfair as it was to blame him - and he wasn’t blaming him, it wasn’t his fault Lambert was so damned skittish about his own feelings and couldn’t hold them back for the life of him - he couldn’t help but wish the morning hadn’t happened at all.

By afternoon, they’d reached the town over, Aiden heading quickly off to see if there were any contracts and Lambert for once not at all eager to follow him. He piddled about here and there, not even feeling like pissing off some bastard for an excuse to punch someone’s teeth in, ending up taking too long staring at armor sets at the local blacksmiths that he really had no interest in buying.

Without having said a word to each other, they both met at the local tavern that afternoon, arriving in the same half hour and sitting further in the corner than they usually would. Gull was drunk in mostly quiet, a few words shared here and there, and Lambert’s heart ached at the tension between them.

“Found a decent one.” Aiden eyed the bottom of his empty glass, in the end pushing it away with a sigh. “There’s a troll not twenty miles from here. Shouldn’t be too difficult with the two of us.”

And Lambert would usually go right along with him. Any other day he would be at his side, traveling the path, hunting down trolls and clearing out drowners and fighting battles with the most fearsome of leshens.

But he was feeling too much, and it was all but a centimeter from the surface, threatening to spill over and never get cleaned back up. And Lambert wasn’t ready for that.

“I think I’ll actually head down south.” He said it slow, a little quiet, clearing his throat after as if he hadn’t meant for it to be a whisper. “Want to get some warmth in me and there sure as hell ain’t any around here. Think you can handle one measly troll on your own?”

Aiden wasn’t fooled, and his hurt wasn’t veiled, but Lambert would make it up to him. His friend still sent him a sharp grin as he waved over his shoulder, leaving the tavern and Lambert behind, and Lambert drank enough gull that night for the both of them.

He needed time. Lambert dropped his head on one hand when his vision swayed - or was that his body? It was hard to tell and the old shit of an innkeep wasn’t letting him order any more gull either, leaving Lambert to drag himself up to a room he hadn’t meant to rent to begin with.

Time. Just a little bit of time to himself, to think on it, think it all over and figure out how the fuck to feel so much without- without, fuck, he didn’t even know anymore. The world was swimming around him and the bed was so alluring he didn’t even take off his armor or weapons before dropping heavy on it, laying across it the wrong way on top of the blanket while his head tried its best to stop spinning.

At least there was that for him. Time. He took a deep breath and let everything settle: his head, the way his body felt like it was swaying while still laying down, his thoughts, the bursting feeling in his chest.

All he needed was a little time, and he’d make it up to Aiden. Sit him down and tell him things and maybe even let himself feel, and they could maybe, maybe, talk about the possibilities of more. Aiden had a quick and dangerous temper but they were closer to each other than anyone else in either of their worlds, so there was...a chance, and it was one Lambert would take - later.

Time was all he needed, and he had that. They both had plenty of that ahead of them.

[jincherie]

4 o’clock | 03

✩ — pairing: taehyung x reader ✩ — genre: hybrid au, single dad au, light angst, fluff ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — words: 5.5k+ ✩ — warnings: slight angst ✩ — notes: another impulse update while the inspiration was ripe!! I hope u enjoy it :3 I’ll go over it and fix any mistakes with tense and grammar tomorrow either before or after work, so sorry for those in the meantime! i haven’t written in past tense in a while lol

— prompt: “Why are you crying, It’s only you and me here, Me and you, Oh you”

Even if it weren’t for the two twins that had endeared you so, you were sure you would have eventually been drawn to the beautiful soul of Kim Taehyung, like a planet to its star.

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 — posted; 14.03.2020

“Ah— no— Haru! Don’t touch that please!”

You sat back, content to watch the chaos as it unfolded; Seokjin had sent you some small reports to write and you were making the most of the moment and finishing them while Jungkook and Namjoon helped watch the twins. It was nearing eight o’clock and the cafe had long since closed, the lights dimmed but still on— Namjoon had been counting the tills in peace until the two hybrid twins had grown curious about what was happening on the other side of the counter and darted around to investigate. Jungkook snickered at the scene as he swept the floors, not being shy about his laughter since Namjoon was too caught up to reprimand him right now.

Ordinarily, you didn’t babysit the twins at the cafe— but you’d brought them to get a hot chocolate since the weather was getting cooler and they’d been behaving so well lately you wanted to give them a treat. You’d already texted Taehyung to ask if they were allowed it, and he’d told you yes. The twins had been ecstatic the second you told them where you were going and why. Apparently they were big fans of Uncle Joon and Uncle Koo, despite spending a majority of their time with you these days.

“But Uncle Joon!” Haru whined, big eyes pointed right at the poor male in question. You did feel a little bad for him; he was just trying to count the tills and finish closing after all. “Wanna help!”

“Yeah!” Hansol chorused, popping up from behind his sister. “Wanna help!”

Namjoon seemed like he was absolutely lost for how to handle the situation, standing crowded with the tills held to his chest, and when he finally caved and sent a pleading look your way you couldn’t help but chuckle. You supposed you could put him out of his misery.

“Hey, cutie cubs! I have something over here that I really, really need your help with! Could you come help me?”

Of course, the answer was yes. At the opportunity to help one of their favourite people ever, their eyes lit up and you stifled a laugh as their tails flicked and whipped excitedly. They were scrambling around the counter within seconds, big eyes directed at you now as they clung to the leg closest to them.

“Yeah, y/n?” Hansol inquired, patting your thigh excitedly. “Need help?”

“I absolutely do!” you confessed dramatically, leaning closer. “It’s something only you two can do.”

They almost vibrated in their excitement, making you think maybe there was a little too much sugar in those hot chocolates. They leaned in closer, Haru whispering with wide eyes, “What is it?”

“Well,” you started, pulling out two pieces of blank paper. “I have something important I’m writing for one of my jobs, and it needs some pictures… but I don’t have any! Do you think you could draw me some pictures to send with it? I don’t know anyone who can do it as well as you…”

The twins gasped, sold immediately on the idea. You’d learned very quickly that of all their hobbies and things they like to do, anything to do with painting, drawing, and colouring— they liked that the most. Eagerly, they climbed onto the free seats at the table where you were perched, looking at you obediently and patiently. Their ears betrayed their excitement though, flicking and twitching restlessly. You passed them a piece of paper each and let them choose one of the markers from your pencil case. Haru chose blue, while her brother went for a light green.

“What do we draw?” she asked after a moment, marker looking very oversized in her tiny hand. To her credit, she had it in an expert grip.

“Anything you want,” you answered immediately, unable to help but laugh at their excited gasps.

“Weally?!” In his glee Hansol’s ‘r’ glided into a ‘w’ sound even more than usual and you almost clutched your chest in fear that you had a literal heart attack. They’re so cute, they’re so cute it’s over for me!

“Yup!” you nodded, waving your hand for them to go ahead and do whatever they want. They didn’t need to be told twice; they launched into their efforts, markers meeting paper eagerly. You could have sat and watched them all night, so endeared by the way their tongues stuck out in concentration and their ears flicked every so often. Unfortunately, you still had a report to finish and so begrudgingly you returned to that as they scribbled artfully across the pages, having granted Namjoon time to escape to the staff room and for Jungkook to grab the mop and bucket and begin sanitising the floor.

Like that, the cafe settled into a nice ambiance— the radio still played soft tunes across the store and the only out of place noises came when one of the twins dropped a marker or Jungkook bumped into a table or chair due to his shapely rump.

It lasted a good five minutes, and you suspected it would have lasted longer if Namjoon’s phone didn’t start ringing on the counter. The twins barely spared it a glance before returning to their works— man, you chose the distraction well, huh. There was the slight sound of cluttering and something falling in the direction of the backroom before Namjoon emerged with tousled hair and wide eyes, a note sticking to his cheek as he looked around hurriedly for his phone.

“Who on earth…” he muttered to himself as he searched; you pointed to your cheek when he caught your eye and he reached up to remove the note, appearing sheepish. It didn’t take him long to find the phone after that, hurrying to pick it up before passing it over to you on the bench. “Y/n, can you answer that? I think I flicked a coin in the sink and I don’t know if it went down the drain or not— thanks!”

Bewildered, you hurriedly scrambled to the counter, grabbing his phone and seeing that he’d already answered the call and just left it running. You didn’t have time to see who was on the other end before you brought it to your ear, not wanting to leave them hanging any longer than they already had been.

“Hello?” you said, sounding somewhat hesitant. Any caution you might have had was quickly thrown to the wind when a familiar dulcet tone greeted you from the other end, though.

“Wh— y/n?” Taehyung sounded surprised to hear your voice, and you didn’t blame him considering he’d called Namjoon’s phone. “Uh, hello. But, um… why…”

“Hey, Mr. Kim!” The change in your attitude was instant, something fluttering in your abdomen at the knowledge of who you were talking to. “Sorry to surprise you, but Namjoon is counting the tills and kind of dumped his phone on me. Is everything okay? Did you want to talk to the twins?”

Taehyung made a sound of understanding before hurrying to reassure you, “Ah, no! No, that’s okay, I’ll see them soon anyway. Um, I was actually calling because…”

He faded off for a moment, an awkward tone slipping into his voice when he resumed. “Um, all the buses near my work were cancelled because of maintenance or something and, um… I don’t really have a way to get home… so I was just…”

It took barely a second for you to realise what he was getting at. “Ah, you need someone to pick you up? No problem! I’m with the twins at the cafe right now, so I can come pick you up while Joon and Jungkook watch them for a few minutes if you’d like!”

The hybrid on the other end seemed flustered at your easy agreement and instant offer.

“I, um… that’s fine, if that’s not too much trouble? I’m sorry to be bothering you— I’ll pay y—”

“Nope, it’s okay!” you were quick to reassure him, making sure he knew that you didn’t expect compensation just for being a decent person. “Don’t even think of paying me extra, I don’t mind at all! Just text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as possible!”

The line was silent for a few moments before Taehyung spoke once more, sounding slightly choked up. “Thank you, y/n.”

“No problem,” you assured, saying goodbye before hanging up and placing Namjoon’s phone down. A few moments later your own buzzed in your pocket, most likely with the address you’d requested.

Ducking into the backroom, you let Namjoon know what the call was about and he easily agreed to watch the kids while you went to pick up their dad. Once you secured his blessing, you returned to the main area to see Jungkook currently being subjected to the twins and their marker, scribbles and drawings beginning to make their ways up his forearms. Hansol had managed to land the arm that already had some tattoos on it and was having the time of his life colouring them in. As soon as he saw you, he pointed excitedly, “Look, y/n! Uncle Koo’s a colouring book!”

The male in question seemed absolutely endeared by the twins and of course easily agreed to continue watching them while you went to pick up Taehyung. The twins were excited to see their dad again soon and so let you go in peace when you told them what was happening.

Fifteen minutes later found you on the road and nearing the destination that Taehyung had texted you. Apparently it wasn’t at his actual workplace, since there weren’t any bus stops there and he usually had to walk twenty minutes to the nearest one, but it was still in the general area. You were thankful that you’d driven the twins to the cafe instead of walking earlier, since it meant your car was already outside and waiting. You were also thankful one of your friends had bullied you into cleaning it the other day because you knew you’d be embarrassed as hell if Taehyung climbed in and found all the bueno bar wrappers that had been on the floor of the passenger side. What could you say? You had an addiction.

As the GPS on your phone told you that you were growing closer, you began to scan the streets for the golden-haired male in question. It didn’t take you long to spot him, because even in the dark he stood out as a spot of beauty in his surroundings, hair gleaming flaxen in the streetlights. He was only in a white button-down and slacks, but still he looked incredibly good. Honestly, if you saw an image of him you would have sworn up and down that he was a model. The flick of his ears as you neared the curb where he stood told you that he’d heard you from afar, but he waited until you were alongside him to shoot you a sheepish smile.

He was somewhat shy as he climbed in, tentative in his movements as he placed his bag down by his feet and shut the door, resting his hands in his lap. “Thank you,” he murmured again, low tone making your heart skip a beat. What was it about him that seemed to make you so… giddy?

“It’s not a problem!” you assured him again, making sure he caught your smile before you set the destination in your phone and turned to the road; you knew vaguely where you were, but you didn’t travel often to this part of town so you’d need a little bit of guidance to get back to Namjoon’s cafe. It was too dark to tell for sure, but you could have sworn the hybrid’s cheeks flushed slightly.

You didn’t think that the silence would have been all that awkward, but you didn’t want to really risk it—there was still a bit of distance between the two of you, understandably. He was basically your employer right now. But you couldn’t deny the urge sparking to life deep inside you that pushed you to get a bit closer to him. Inexplicably, it was something you wanted.

“When I left, the twins were having the time of their lives,” you informed him, unable to keep the smile from your voice. Your eyes were on the road but you caught his head lifting in your peripheral. “Originally I had them drawing something on paper, but when I came back they’d turned Jungkook into a canvas and discovered his tattoos. I think they were overjoyed to have a living colouring book.”

At your words, Taehyung couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from his throat at his kids’ antics. “They love colouring,” he murmured in response, letting his head fall back against the headrest. Your brief glance over reveals his form, slumped slightly and wrought with exhaustion. A shard of concern wriggles its way into your chest, unsettling you slightly. Was he eating enough? Sleeping enough? You felt so bad for him that you wished you could lift every single worry from his shoulders and give the world to him on a silver platter. His twins deserved it, and so did he. You weren’t sure exactly when, in the past month or so of looking after his kids, that such feelings had had time to bloom, but they had. “I wish I could get them more things, since they go through materials so fast, but… paints are getting more and more expensive these days.”

You hummed, trying not to let the sadness currently permeating your chest to show on your face. “That’s true,” you responded softly. “I imagine they’d go through paints and markers faster than you can blink.”

Taehyung chuckled, the sound soft and low, eyes closed as he sank into the seat. “Yep. I have boxes full of drawings at home. They refuse to part with any of them.”

It was your turn to laugh now, able to imagine it all too easily. “I think they’d never talk to me again if I ever lost the ones they gave me.”

Soft melodies drifted through the car as you drove, your phone’s playlist still on the one you used to lull the twins to sleep. Endearingly enough, it seemed to be working wonders for their father, too. Every time you glimpsed over, it seemed like he was that bit closer to completely dozing off next to you. You were sure he’d be embarrassed about it later, but you honestly didn’t mind. It relieved you a bit to know he was getting at least a little bit of rest.

Well, he was until a low, rumbling sound echoed in the small space. You bit your lip to contain the laugh that attempted to bubble in your throat, but were unable to help the glance you gave to the side. Taehyung looked mortified, gaze averted out the window and cheeks red as his hand rested over his stomach, as though to muffle it should it make any further incriminating noises. His tail curled beside him in embarrassment.

“Well, I suppose that’s good timing,” you said, unable to keep the smile from your voice. “Are you in the mood for a noodle dish or something soupy? Or rice? I was gonna stop by somewhere and grab something for dinner anyway.”

Taehyung’s hands quickly rose, waving awkwardly. “Oh, no, it’s okay— we can just—”

You hummed, pinning him with a look as the car drew to a stop at a set of traffic lights. “Have you eaten today?”

He might have been embarrassed, but you could tell he wouldn’t be able to lie to you. You were proven right when he simply blushed, averting his gaze with his ears angling down.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching to pat his leg before you had to return your hand to the gearstick. “I haven’t had dinner yet either, and we can grab something to take back for the twins too! Is there anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

Perhaps it was the hunger, but he didn’t take long to give in and acquiesce to your gentle nudging. His voice was soft when it brushed your ears in response. “I don’t mind, anywhere is good.”

You pondered his words for a moment before speaking what came to mind, “I think I know a place that you’ll like.”

— x — x —

“Woah.”

You smiled at the wonderment in Taehyung’s voice, glancing over to see him looking around in awe. You’d decided to take him to your favourite fusion restaurant, since you remembered that they actually made that dish that he liked— japchae?— and it seemed you’d made the right choice. The restaurant was underground, and the ceiling sprinkled with woven trains of fairy lights. The walls of booths and along the tables were somewhat porus and absolutely covered in layers upon layers of scribbles and drawings from people who had visited over the years. A bowl of markers rested by the door and you were sure to grab one on the way past.

One of the table staff saw you and grinned, making her way over immediately. Her gaze didn’t even linger on Taehyung as it swept over him, something you appreciated.

“Y/n!” she burst, moving forward to bring you in for a quick hug. “It’s been a while! I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing slightly. “It’s only been like, a week, Jihyo. What, you weren’t there when I ordered last time?”

“I had placement,” she said, sighing dramatically. “We can’t all finish the semester on time, y/n.”

You laughed in response, and the brunette was quick to get back on track. “Table for two? In the usual spot?”

“Yes please!” you answered with a smile, feeling Taehyung shift in confusion behind you. You wonder if he thought that you were only coming for take away. Originally you were, but as you entered the restaurant you’d read a text from Jungkook saying that they’d taken to twins back to your house, so you felt less pressed to get there sooner.

The two of you follow Jihyo towards the back of the establishment, taking a seat when she gestures to do so in the booth furthest from the front and closer to the kitchens. She left you with menus and told you to press the button when you were ready to order.

“We’re eating here?”

You looked up to catch Taehyung’s gaze, and the expression you find there wasn’t upset or antsy, more confused. It occurred to you a moment later that maybe you should have asked for his opinion before deciding all on your own.

“Oh… Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Your cheeks heated in embarrassment at your own audacity. “I should have asked you— I just got a text from Jungkook saying they took the twins to my place so I figured we didn’t have to rush and could relax a bit. Would you like to get takeaway instead…?”

At your explanation, the male relaxed in his seat, shoulders releasing the small amount of tension they’d held. “No, it’s okay. And you can call me Taehyung, you know. I don’t think you’re that much younger than me, actually.”

Your head tilted in surprise as your hands opened the menu automatically. “Wait, how old are you?”

Taehyung hummed, opening his own menu and looking down, visibly growing happier at the sight of some of the dishes. “Twenty-four,” he answered distractedly, finger trailing over number 37 on the menu. “Are the pancakes good? I wonder if the twins would like them…”

It took all your willpower to snap your mouth closed and swallow your shock— twenty-four?! That’s so young! It wasn’t like he looked old, but to have kids… you thought that he was late-twenties or early-thirties and had just aged really well. You were left reeling at the fact he really wasn’t all that much older than you at all.

It made you even sadder, actually, as you realised that he must have been only twenty-one or so when the twins had first come into his life. It can’t have been easy, especially if the situation was as you suspected with the twins’ mother.

“Wow, you’re young,” you couldn’t stop it from rolling off your tongue, and coughed before continuing, ignoring his amused look. “And they are! I like both the spring onion and the kimchi one. For the twins though, they might like the spring onion one better. I’ll get some to take back to them so they can try it, actually. Maybe some of the chicken too… I’m craving chicken.”

You’d started off talking directly to him, but as you went on you had ended up talking more to yourself. You missed the soft smile that Taehyung sent your way. It was silent as the two of you ruminated over what to order, and neither of you spoke until it was time to order and the waitress (not Jihyo this time, unfortunately) was walking away with your meal ticket and the menus.

“Thank you.”

It caught you by surprise, his sudden words. You looked to him with wide eyes, mid-sip of your water, and blinked in confusion. He chuckled at the sight you presented before leaning back in the booth, taking the permanent marker into his grasp and fiddling with it between his fingers. You continued your sip, waiting for him to continue in his own time. You didn’t have to wait too long.

“For caring so much about Hansol and Haru,” he explained, eyes flicking to the side before rising to meet yours. His ears were lowered slightly, bashful, as he continued. “It means a lot to me, and I know that it means a lot to them. They…”

He cleared his throat, reaching for his own cup of water. He still looked exhausted, but the smell of food in the air had livened him considerably since you entered. “They’ve never really said anything, or asked about their mother, and I don’t know for sure whether they have put you in that role… but I’m glad they have someone else that they can trust and feel safe with. I know whenever I leave them with you that they’ll be okay, and I don’t have to worry, because you always spoil them and they’re always happy. So thank you, for that.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden sting to your eyes. Flustered, you waved your hand at him, blinking rapidly to ward away the tears. “You should warn a girl before you spring something heartfelt like that on her, Mr. K— Taehyung. I might cry and then our food will be ruined.”

He was still for a second before your words sank in and he laughed, tipping his head back from the body of it. It was a joyous sound, and it made your heart sing to hear it— after the mushy way his earlier words had made you feel, you didn’t know if you were in a good place to handle it. You waited until he calmed to continue, wanting to respond properly now your thoughts were in order.

“But you’re more than welcome, you know.” His eyes met yours as you spoke, fingers fiddling with the marker. “Those two are so beautiful, Taehyung. I can see you give them everything and they really deserve it. I’ll have you know that if I could and they asked for it, I’d climb up and pluck every star out of the sky just for them. Everything I do for them is really the least I can do. I’ll always care for those two, even if you were to move away and forget all about me.”

He snorted at that last part, but you could tell he was touched from the tender look in his eyes. “Don’t worry, that’s not happening any time soon.“

A few moments of silence followed his words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was soon broken by the arrival of some of your meal. Your mouth started salivating the second your plate touched the table, but you held off until you asked the waitress for some plastic containers and she brought them back for you. Once you’d put some of the food aside for the twins, you happily dug in to the meat dish you’d ordered.

You didn’t catch Taehyung’s fond look as you put some food aside, but you did hear it when, moments later, he let out a soft sound that echoed surprisingly like a moan. Your head shot up and he blushed bright red, cheeks so full of food he looked more like a chipmunk than a lion. He chewed and swallowed the majority of it down before offering a sheepish explanation, “Sorry, it just tastes so good… it’s been so long since I had bulgogi.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, almost choking on your own mouthful. You didn’t say anything though, mind wandering to other things— namely, the mention of the twins mother. You wanted to know so badly what the situation was, but you were also painfully aware it was absolutely not your place to ask. But at the same time, the twins were young, and what were you meant to do if they ask difficult questions about their mother as children tend to do? You were torn, but you didn’t realise the extent to which your thoughts were playing across your face.

“You want to know about their mother.”

Freezing, you shot him a guilty look, mouth full of spring onion pancake. You feared that you’d look over and see an upset expression on his handsome face, but it was surprisingly neutral— if anything, he seemed amused at the mess you were making as you struggled to keep the food in your mouth.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, taking a bite of his meal and humming at the flavour. “It’s only natural to wonder since you haven’t seen her. It’s not hard to tell that she’s not around.”

You finally managed to swallow the entire contents in your mouth, shooting him a look of apology. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything if it’s painful…”

The hybrid shrugged, pushing the food in his bowl around with his chopsticks. “It’s okay. It’s been three years, the wound is old…” He picked out a piece of beef, munching it before continuing. “Their mother was another lion hybrid— I met her in an adoption shelter we’d both ended up in until we were of the legal age that we could leave. She was my first love. I thought the world of her. It wasn’t planned, when she got pregnant. She didn’t really want the a baby but, well… you know how it is.”

Something sharp stabbed in your chest at his words, your expression softening. Hybrids still faced a lot of discrimination in more ways than one, and they didn’t have access to all the same types of resources that humans often took for granted. So if she’d wanted to abort the pregnancy, you doubt she would have been able to…Taehyung cleared his throat, continuing.

“When she became pregnant, and after she had the twins, it became clear that she wasn’t really the woman I fell in love with… When I saw those two, my beautiful little cubs, and held them in my arms— I knew I would love them for the rest of my life. But she… it wasn’t a sentiment we shared. She grew cold and fought with me, saying I’d ruined her life. And then one day she left, before they’d even been weened. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”

“I’m so sorry…” it was all you could think to say, your heart aching for him. You couldn’t imagine the amount of betrayal that must have felt like, the hurt that would have resulted. And on top of it, how difficult it must have been to be on his own from the very beginning.

He wrinkled his nose, sniffling slightly before shooting you a reassuring look. He waved his hand through the air, returning to the meal more heartily. “Don’t be— like I said, the wound is old. Besides, I thought you should know since you spend so much time with the twins. They’re curious, and they’re kids… I wouldn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation if they asked something difficult.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, sectioning off another piece of pancake to put in your mouth. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute at the information he’d given you, but you did your best to push them to the backburner for now— you didn’t take him out and force food down his throat for the sake of hearing about his partner. “I am still sorry, though… It seems like a lot of things have happened to you that you don’t deserve.”

“That’s how it always is,” Taehyung shrugged, nonchalant. Something about how accepting he was of his own misfortune bothered you— he shouldn’t have had to be accepting of the way the world has treated him like dirt. You allowed your eyes to wash over him, taking in the slight bags under his eyes and the somewhat pallid quality to his skin. In that moment, you decided to do whatever you could to help him— both for him, and the twins. If it meant you continued sending home little care packages with the twins, then so be it.

Despite the somewhat depressing start the conversation had, it soon melded into more comfortable, relaxed topics. Taehyung seemed interested to know a bit more about you, apparently wanting to corroborate the many things his twins reported back to him with facts straight from the source itself— you. He asked about your schooling, what you wanted to do— eventually he allowed himself to verify some of the things the twins apparently told him, like if you really had a giant gudetama plushie in the corner of your bedroom. You’d blushed at that one, especially considering that it was true. In turn, you’d gone ahead and asked him about some of the things the twins had told you— like if he really didn’t like mint chocolate chip icecream, and if all the older ladies in the building really pinched his cheek and called him handsome every time they saw him.

At that he had cleared his throat and blushed too, before quietly admitting it was true. It seemed the twins were very good at digging up dirt on the both of you.

You didn’t linger in the restaurant all that long, making your way up to the counter after you’d eaten your fill. The conversation continued right up until you reached the register, at which point Taehyung promptly froze. You turned, in the middle of pulling your card out, and caught him looking with white eyes at the total, like he’d completely forgotten that he’d have to pay at the end of it. It wasn’t hard to guess the direction that his thoughts had gone, and when Jihyo read out your total for the table you left it barely a second before moving.

“Boop!” you said, smacking your card on the reader and relishing in the confirmation beep that sounded a second later. “Paid!”

Taehyung looked at you with wide eyes, hand coming to grip your sleeve. “Y/n, that was so much! You didn’t have to—”

“It’s okay, I got paid today,” you smiled at him, holding up the bag of takeaway containers before passing them to him. “Plus, it wasn’t just our meals— now we have some food to take back for the others, too!”

You were oblivious to the fond, amused smile Jihyo was sending your way, especially since she slapped a brighter one on when you faced her. “I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves! I’ll see you next time y/n, make sure you bring him too! The chefs apparently liked watching his expressions as he enjoyed the food.”

You laughed, bringing your arm up in a mock salute as Taehyung blushed red beside you, risking a sheepish look back at the kitchen. Two chefs were peeking out the doorway, and waved when they saw him looking. Embarrassed, he tugged your sleeve and began moving towards the door, urging you to leave. You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you on the way out, waving to Jihyo as you went and promising you’d be back soon.

— x —

Later, when Taehyung was laying in his own bed after Namjoon had dropped him home, the twins cuddled next to him — they’d been so ecstatic at the special food they’d gotten that they hadn’t left his side all night, clinging to him like never before— he couldn’t help but reflect once more on the changes in his life, however big or subtle. The most noticeable was you, and oddly enough, when he thought of you now, gratitude wasn’t the only feeling swirling in his chest like it had been before. There was something else there, something new and warm and even though he didn’t look any closer at it, scared to see its name, it comforted him all the way to sleep, sending him off to cozy dreams of the sun, the twins, and you.

a/n: pls let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed it by liking and rbing!!! it helps me know i’m doing somthing right!!! also feel free to support me on my kofi and send me an ask or too with what u think !!!1 thank u for reading and i love you!!! <3 <3

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

[ihopuhopwehop]

Leap of Faith

AO3

Warning: Talks about blood purity.

It was the most hyped up and controversial game of the year. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. In a fight for the Quidditch Cup.

James was quite exhilarated about it all though, despite the hostility surrounding the game.

James lived for large crowds, chanting, rivalry, and winning.

He loved winning.

The feel of being revered when he made a game winning catch. Of being able to walk the halls with people congratulating him or even better, envying him.

Well, the Slytherins congratulated him. And sometimes Hufflepuffs, but Hufflepuffs congratulated both teams for the sake of sportsmanship.

The Gryffindors would envy him. For a while at least, until there was some fight between the sides, showcasing how disgusting some of his housemates truly were, and then Gryffindors didn’t envy the Slytherins anymore.

But despite all of the quidditch-induced rivalry and buzz, James was excited for the game for an entirely different reason.

 Going against Lily Evans.

 Lily Evans. Christmas on a stick. Sass level unmatched. And also, Gryffindor’s seeker.

James was the Slytherin seeker.

Which meant he’d be allowed to observe Lily Evans all game long without being scolded by his housemates.

Of course, he was always being scolded and harassed by his housemates because he thought muggleborns and half-breeds alike were worthy of life, liberty, and love. Though his house did not seem to agree.

Besides Regulus Black to some extent. Though Regulus usually sided with his family in public, James knew he did not agree with them entirely. This led to James trying to protect Regulus and lead him down a more morally powerful side, but that only worked for so long.

Regulus had gotten the dark mark, and now there was no amount of protecting James could do.

But through all of his efforts to help the younger Black heir, he befriended the older Black ex-heir. Sirius Black was good fun to be around, though he sometimes lacked ambition surrounding his studies and future achievements.

James didn’t blame him, but thought it was dumb not to at least try to get top marks and excel anywhere he could. Especially if Sirius wanted to outrun the infamy of his last name.

Oh well, at least he was noble…most of the time.

But back to Lily Evans.

James had only gotten to know Lily through Severus Snape, and as such, was skeptical of her character at first.

But when Lily Evans allowed her sass to go against her childhood friend and his beliefs, James knew she could be trusted.

He also knew she could be trusted because after the incident that caused her to end her and Snape’s friendship, she had requested a new potions partner. Slughorn had only been too happy to switch Snape with James, much to Snape’s anger and James’ joy.

Not to mention Lily’s eyes matched his house colors, which he thought made her even more likeable.

The first day they had worked together, Lily had seemed put out to be partnered with him. But after James made sure to stay on top of the potion, and even prevented a catastrophe when Lily confused two different dragon scales, she seemed to at least tolerate him.

 And then the quidditch pitch happened.

James had been on his way to practice a few extra moves before his official practice but had been prevented when he found the snitch already being used by his favorite Gryffindor. Well, besides Sirius.

Lily had been trying to practice a diving roll to catch the snitch, which was typically done if the snitch was close to the ground so that one could jump off their broom and land safely on the grass, but Evans didn’t seem to be able to truly jump off her broom.

Her bravery had been lacking that day, and his had been soaring.

He had ruffled his hair as he had begun to speak, “Quite ambitious of you to be practicing outside of your time slot, don’t you think?”

She hadn’t even batted an eye as she responded, “And quite brave to be teasing a girl who could unleash the bludgers while you’re unprepared.”

 “Touché. Now are you going to ever actually jump off your broom or continue to miss the snitch because you’re scared.”

She had now dismounted her broom and blew some of her auburn fringe out of her eyes. “If it’s so easy, then you do it Mr. Brave Slytherin.”

James smirked as he mounted his broom, “Alright. Release the snitch.”

Lily had quirked an eyebrow as she pushed the snitch forward. The snitch flittered close to James nose, enough to reflect in his glasses, and then zoomed forward and towards the ground. James leaned as far forward as he could, prompting his broom to speed up, and then at the last second, pushed off the broom with his feet and clasped the snitch safely in his palms. He completed the move with a barrel roll and a quiet “accio” to retrieve his broom, which he smugly caught when he stood up to wink at the dumbfounded girl.

“That—That was—How--”

James smirked at her floundering and ruffled his hair, “Takes resourcefulness and ambition and, something I thought Gryffindors were supposed to have in abundance, bravery.”

He inwardly grinned when her eyes narrowed, “Alright. Fine. Teach me.”

He beamed at those words.

“A Gryffindor asking a Slytherin for help. What would Godric think?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, “A Slytherin being kind, what would Salazar think?”

He chuckled and motioned towards her broom. He had her practice balancing on her feet a few times and then pushing forward with her feet as well.

That had been an awkward exercise for him as he had to stand behind her to make sure she was doing it properly. It had given him a perfect view of her in her quidditch trousers. He had to admit his chivalry was really lacking during that exercise, but he figured he retained a normal amount of it. Not everyone had Gryffindor levels of chivalry.

Finally, it was time for her to actually jump. He should not have been surprised when she achieved it on the first try, but never-the-less, he was.

“Brilliant! Good job, Evans! You’re a natural!” He may have gotten over excited and pulled her into a hug, but well, he felt pride when he was able to help a fellow student.

He remembered the way his chin had sat on her head and her head laid on his chest. It was, in his humble opinion, a good hug.

Lily had blushed at his compliment, or maybe his hug, he wasn’t sure, and told him, “Well yeah. I’ve been practicing on my own for awhile. Just had to gain a little courage and confidence.”

“Just had to use your courage and confidence. You’ve always had plenty, you just let your fears get in the way.”

She had smiled lightly at him, “You know, you’re not that bad. For a Slytherin.”

He snorted, “You’re not that bad for a Gryffindor.”

She had side-eyed him, “I assume you aren’t a blood purist? You didn’t even hesitate to hug me.”

James furrowed his brows at her, “What made you think I might be?”

She shrugged, “Everyone in your house seems to be. Wouldn’t be surprised if you were, especially since you’re a pureblood too.”

James clenched his jaw. People always assumed that about him. On one hand, he couldn’t blame her, on the other, he thought every person deserved the chance to show who they really were, regardless of house or family.

“Right. I guess you just see what you want. Wouldn’t be surprised if you thought Sirius was a purist too.”

Lily could tell she touched a nerve. She had shaken her head, “No. It’s just. We have to be cautious. Could cost me my life if I assumed you weren’t a death eater.”

James raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t thought of it from that perspective. “That makes sense. Sorry for snapping at you.”

She had seemed surprised at his apology. “It’s alright. And um, I think your team is here. I should probably go, but thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to use it when we beat you.” Then she had winked and made her way back to the castle.

James had ignored everything his teammates had said that day in favor of replaying her wink.

 After that day, Lily seemed to consider him a friend.

Lily had made it a point to keep a conversation going during potions. Had studied with him in the library. And she had even invited him to sit with her, Sirius, Remus, and Peter at the Gryffindor table. 

He thought they were getting along smashingly and hoped it would not crush their budding relationship when Slytherin won. 

 --

The game had started in a whirlwind, with the noises from the audience growing to deafening sounds and the wind beating against his face. He tried to drown it all out by focusing on searching for the snitch but when he noticed Lily flying towards him, he couldn’t help but acknowledge her.

He had begun to wave, but Lily continued straight towards him, until she was close enough to lightly shoulder check him.

He rocked a little on his broom but was able to gain enough balance to shoulder check her back.

“Better watch where you’re going Evans. Hate for you to miss when I catch the snitch.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t miss what doesn’t happen.” Then she had turned a 180 and flew towards the sky to get better optics.

They had each tailed the other a few times and yelled at fellow teammates, cheering and booing respectively when someone scored.

Slytherin was up by 120 points. Surprisingly, if James was honest. But apparently, Gryffindor’s chasers were suffering today, much to Lily’s dismay.

Malfoy had yelled at James to stop ogling Lily, though Lucius had used a word James made a point to never say.

Sirius had shot several bludgers Malfoy’s way after that, and Regulus shot a few back towards his brother, though slightly slower compared to when he aimed at other Gryffindors.

Then, James saw it. A golden glint thanks to the sun, near the Slytherin goals.

Unfortunately, Lily had seen it too, and they both shot off towards it.

Eventually, they were both right behind it, with James longer arms being closer than Lily’s. They followed it higher for a few minutes, the air getting harsher, and each of them inching closer,

 until Lily yelled a loud, “CATCH ME!”

James looked at her like she was insane, only for her to wink and jump completely off her broom, into the freezing sky.

“EVANS!!”

James abandoned his quest for the snitch and instead focused on grabbing some part of Lily Evans that had dived towards the snitch.

Gravity had barely begun to pull the absolutely mad girl down, when James finally grabbed her fanned out shirt.

He felt his arm strain and he grunted as he worked to pull her up onto his broom, “You’ll be the death of both of us Evans, I swear.” He heaved and used his other hand to support the arm that was holding Lily. 

Finally, after tremendous effort, Lily was sat behind him on his firebolt, grinning victoriously and holding the snitch up proudly.

The crowd was cheering raucously, with many people standing and whistling. The Gryffindor team was running towards the Quidditch Cup McGonagall was holding up, with Sirius hugging the usually professional woman. James noticed his teammates looking equally parts angry and shocked.

He ignored them and instead turned to Lily while he began their descent.

“You’re either certifiably insane or incredibly brave Evans, though at this point the lines are blurred.”

Lily grinned at him, “The jump wasn’t that big of a deal. But trusting a Slytherin was.”

And then she kissed him. Which was also very dangerous in the air, but James figured some things were worth the risk.

[chews-erotically]

Waxing Gibbous 

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

       * Warnings: Angst/ violence/ mention of blood/ SMUT/ PIV, fingering/ public sex/ slight exhibitionism

      * Summary: Ezra confronts his fears. A night out on Central does not go as planned.

      * Word Count: ~2600

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE*  *Part SIX*        *Part SEVEN*  *Part EIGHT*  *Part NINE*  *Part TEN*

PART ELEVEN

    You learned quickly that when Ezra told you he was going to try, he tried. The very next day, he asked you to take him down to the lobby. You’d attempted to protest, but a facet of his personality you were getting more acquainted with over time was the man’s stubbornness. 

    “Mama always told me I was more stubborn than a mule stuck in a mud puddle,” he’d rambled to you once.

    On this day, he said, “You know there’s no other way for me to do this except to get it done, Dove.”

    You moved to stand in front of him. You crossed your arms, head tilted to one side as you surveyed him before you. He looked determined, jaw working rhythmically. His hands hung loosely at his sides, but you noticed how he was clenching and unclenching his fists restlessly.

    “Ezra“, I don’t expect you to just waltz out of the apartment and seize the city like a lump of aurelac,” you reasoned. “I want to do this on your terms, and I don’t want you to feel in any way pressured. I feel like you think I’m expecting you to do this.”

    “Dove, you know that as decisive as I may be, one thing I am not is easily swayed or pressured. Trust that I feel no such thing from you, as it is my choice alone to foray out of this nest.”

    So, you had accompanied him cautiously onto the elevator, carefully watching and gauging his reactions to being confined within the claustrophobic reaches of the metal box you found yourselves encased in, ferrying you downward. Ezra’s tongue darted out to wet his lip nervously, you noticed his foot tapping against the carpet. You wondered if he noticed he was doing it.

    When the elevator reached its destination with a faint ping, you steeled yourself. You were ready for his impending meltdown, his shaking uncertainty, possibly his refusal to walk any further. Your eyes widened as you watched him stride determinedly out into the lobby. You trailed close behind, ready to reel him back in if he became overwhelmed. You thought that he’d pause a moment, reacquaint himself with the lobby itself before venturing further, but he strode bullishly toward where Brice was standing near the front doorway.

    “If you’ll excuse me, my good man,” Ezra muttered through the grim set of his mouth. He did not pause, he did not hesitate. He gave Brice no opportunity to hold the door open for him. He grasped the handle himself and thrust himself out onto a bustling street.

    You were right behind him, your brows drawn with concern. You reached out to grasp his hand.

   “Ezra?”

    His shoulders squared, he turned to face you. He was breathing heavily, his eyes moving in disjointed stutters as if he was trying to download and process everything at once to a file in his brain.

    “Ezra, take a deep breath.”

    His eyes finally settled on you, dark pools of intensity. He did as you asked. His shoulders dropped to their natural position. Your other hand joined your first, clasping his large hands in yours. People continued past you on their way to their lovers and jobs and homes and they parted like a sea around the both of you as his gaze held you, hypnotic and deep. His hands pulled from your grasp and he crushed himself to you, his mouth finding yours in a dizzying kiss. Breathless, desperate, the rest of the world disappeared.

    “I did it, sweet love,” he whispered against your mouth. You did not heed the noise and push of the city thrumming around you, the entire street ceased and froze as if the universe was swallowing its own stars and they reappeared, rebirthed and glittering, in the encompassing weight of Ezra’s eyes upon you.

    “All manner of things in this world are limitless and surmountable, survivable, when I have you by my side.”

 ******

     One week later you found yourself in a dive bar that ended up being approximately twenty minutes from your loft. You had worked incrementally each day, walking with Ezra as he ventured further and then a bit further. You saw his confidence begin to return. You had sat one morning at a small table on the sidewalk of a cafe, reading Keats to one another as you sipped cappuccino. Ezra made sly remarks about the goings-on of passing strangers, weaving threads of supposition according to what he thought of what they wore, how quickly they were walking, who they were with. His eyes were lively. He reminded you of the person he’d been at his table in his tent on the Green: head thrown back, joyous.

    You were finally knowing him like this.

    And so, you sat in the crowded bar, smelling the cologne and sweat and smoke enveloping you and those around you. You had felt nervous entering, a sudden impulse to look for the nearest exit slammed into you. A patron sidled past you, bumping your shoulder. You jumped, your heart hammering. You tried desperately to quell what seemed to be an oncoming panic attack- there were too many people, it was so, so loud and anyone could just reach out and grab you, slam you into-

    “Dovie.”

    Your frenzied reverie was interrupted by Ezra’s warm hand on the small of your back as he guided you to a table in a corner. His breath tickled the hair that curled around your ear as he spoke close and low.

    “Sit here, see? Your back will be against the wall. You can see everyone this way. You are safe with me, sweet one.”

    With his voice close, grounding you, you took deep unsteady breaths until you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You reassured him as the bartender approached you. You decided that alcohol may not be a bad idea, for either of you, in helping you relax. You ordered a gin and tonic with lime, Ezra requested an extra dirty vodka martini. While you waited for your drinks you took in the humid press of bodies gyrating on a makeshift dance floor, you absorbed the loose, languid movements of the inebriated patrons before you. Could you do such a thing, would you ever be capable of such abandon again in a place like this?

    Your drinks were set in front of you. Ezra reached for his and took a long sip, his eyes closing with a soft groan.

    “I cannot begin to tell you how long it’s been since I’ve imbibed such high-brow spirits in what amounts to a dusty hovel.”

    You sipped your own drink, the burn sliding down your throat blooming into warmth when it hit your belly. Your brain quickly began to feel fuzzy, your limbs loose and warm. It had been stands since you’d had anything stronger than wine. You set your glass down and turned to see Ezra staring at you, his own cheeks pinking from the effects of his drink. He leaned his head to the side, one hand reaching for your bare knee, at the same time the sudden crack of a pool cue across the room made you jump, an arm shooting out in unconscious self-defense as your hand connected with your glass. Ezra’s own hand reflexively moved to catch the glass before it could topple and shatter, but not before the contents sloshed over the edge to soak down the front of your new dress.

    “Kevva-damned. Shit….This is the first time I’ve even worn this!”

    Ezra was unperturbed, smiling gently as he squeezed your knee.

    “I’m sure it will come out in the wash, love, I’ll leave you only briefly to procure you proper cleaning implements. Do not trouble yourself.”

    You sighed, nodding gratefully. You watched as Ezra stood up and made his way to the bar. It was crowded indeed tonight, and you noted that there were quite a few people in line ahead of him. You sighed again, looking down at your front. You wrinkled your nose; you smelled like a distillery.

    Klutz.

    Lost in your thoughts, it took you a moment in your blunted state to notice that another drink was slid in front of you as the chair beside you scraped back from the table. A man sat down next to you, grinning crookedly. He leaned forward before speaking.

    “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before. Sorry about the drink, I thought maybe you could use a replacement.”

    His hair was flame-colored, unnaturally so. His nose, eyebrows and ears were heavily pierced, and his arms were covered in tattoos. In another lifetime, perhaps, you may have welcomed his advances. Tonight, however, you glanced around frantically for Ezra. You felt suddenly exposed, like a lame rabbit trapped in a dog pen.

    “I…..I’m not alone, you know. I’m here with someone. So, no thank you. On the drink.”

    The man’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t mean….sorry. I saw you spill your drink, and then I saw your friend get up...I was getting my own drink, I figured you could use another one as well.”

    You swallowed down your panic, your hand twitching in your lap.

    If only I had a thrower.

    “You were watching me?”

    “Relax. I was just trying to be nice!”

    “What did you put in this drink, anyway? Sedative? Some kind of amatory agent?”

    “I don’t know what you-”

    The man choked on the rest of his words as he was yanked out of the chair roughly by the back of his shirt. He was slammed up against the wall, Ezra’s fingers wrapped around the man’s throat.

    “I do believe the lady would like to be left alone,” he hissed darkly, jaw clenched. His head was lowered, eyes blackened pools of rage. His voice wavered on a razor-thin edge of control. The interloping man’s eyes were wide, it appeared that he was gasping for breath as Ezra’s knuckles turned white. You noticed the knife in Ezra’s hand. You had the far away realization that he must have been keeping it in his boot, the same way he had on the Green.

     He had carried it all this time.

    Ezra brought the tip of his knife to a slot of pulsing skin between his fingertips. The blade pressed in, a bead of blood pricking forth as the man gasped. A dark spot spread on the front of the man’s pants.

    “Do you know how quickly a man bleeds out if cut in just the right way? I do, I know from experience. Do you also know how to make things last, how to prolong one’s mortal agony until they plead for the sweet embrace of oblivion? I know that too.” 

    You were monsters, you realized with a sudden, shocking clarity. You were not fit for civilization. Ezra was a hair's-breadth from murdering a stranger in a public place while you watched impassively. This is who you have become. This is what the moon had done to you.

    Without thinking, you jumped up from the table. Your hand grasped Ezra’s shoulder.

    “EZRA.” your voice was clear, sobered, authoritative. “Stop. Come back.”

    Ezra almost shook his head as he looked at his hand, holding the knife as if it belonged to someone else. He let the man go, and the man slid down the wall to crumple onto the ground.

You realized it was silent- everyone in the bar was staring.

    You grabbed onto his hand in a vise-like grip and moved to the door.

    “We’re leaving. NOW.”

    There was a sea of shocked silence that parted around you. You did not hesitate, you did not stop to take in the widened eyes, the slack jaws. You walked until you were both out in the cool air of the warm night.

    You kept your eyes forward with a tight grip on Ezra’s hand.

    Get away, you repeated in your mind like a mantra. Get away, get away, get away…

    You squeaked out a wordless exclamation when Ezra halted, pulling you backward into a narrow side alley. He spun you to face the cool brick wall, caging you with his hands and hips. He pressed up against you insistently, panting as if he’d been sprinting.

    “Ez-” your words were cut off as his lips crushed onto yours, rough and messy. His hands grasped at the hem of your dress, raking it up around your waist. He ripped your underwear down past the curve of your ass with trembling fingers. You gasped when his fingers entered you, rough and sudden.

    “Ezra, we’re in an alley, someone could walk byyyy…” your last words dissolved in a whine as he angled his fingers, expertly curled, and hit that spot inside- the place he knew you needed him most.

    Hot plosives of air against your ear, you felt fully enveloped by Ezra and completely exposed to everything else. He withdrew his fingers suddenly and frantically went to unfasten his pants.

    “I need you,” he rasped, his voice desperate and shuddering. “I need to come back to myself. Remind myself. Please. I need to know you are mine. Show me.”

    You felt the blunt head of him notched at your entrance. Grasping his cock in his fist, he spread your leaking arousal to mix with the precum dripping from his own slit before sliding into you with a single thrust. His hips met yours as you brought your fist to your mouth, biting down to keep from screaming. Ezra withdrew almost completely, still trembling, and slammed back into you. Your breasts were mashed against the rough wall, you had to use both hands to brace yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts. One of his hands went up to your mouth and covered it firmly; his other hand reached between your legs to circle your clit roughly.

    He fucked up into you with abandon, without regard for his surroundings and despite the possibility of being caught. He kept his voice low, gasping and whining as his punishing rhythm had you quickly hurtling toward your own release.

    “Mine….mine,” he groaned into your ear, slapping sounds from your desperate union echoing in the air of the alleyway. “Going to fuck you like this in every corner of Central, on every surface. Claim this pussy over and over again. Take you apart.”

    His words against your sweat-slicked skin, his hot breath, his fingers on your clit, his brutal thrusts all melded into the sin of him taking your like this, claiming you in the open. You release slammed into you, unexpected, overwhelming. You bit the inside of his hand, breaths harsh, ragged, keening. You sobbed wordlessly against him as he stilled, spilling into you as he cried out. The intensity and strength of his orgasm had rendered him incapable of remaining quiet. Your legs shook, Ezra’s arms wrapping firmly around your waist to keep you from collapsing to the dirty concrete.

    When your hammering heart had finally slowed and your breathing finally evened out, Ezra reverently helped you back to some semblance of presentability before you made your way back to your apartment, still shaky and somewhat lightheaded.

    Once back in the safety of your shared home you sighed deeply before wrapping your arms around Ezra’s waist. You knew you both had quite a bit more to work through than you’d originally thought, but Kevva knew there was no one else for you. You gazed up at him with a small, sad smile.

    “We can’t go back to that bar, Ezra.”

    “I know, Dove.”

Tags: @ifimayhaveaword @thedaysarenotfull @absurdthirst@cinewhore @hopelikethesun @yespolkadotkitty @lose-eels @lackofhonor @din-damn-djarin @mrpascals@theocatkov @thefineandnobleartofavoidance@hellojustheretolookatmeemees @cyaredindjarin @im-like-reallythirsty @mstgsmy @goldafterglow @sistahsarah-sallysaidso @givemethatgold @shaqbutt @sirianisrock@artemiseamoon @thatreclusewriter, @scribbledghost@f0rever15elf @opheliaelysia @qveenbvtch@hdlynnslibrary @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa@spacegayofficial @ezraslittlebirdie @ezrasarm@ezraslittleblondestreak @tintinwrites@kindablackenedsuperhero @darthadeline @alexisinorbit@knittingqueen13 @lueurnotes @xakilicious@keeper0fthestars @huliabitch @di-kut @zombieaurora@corrupt-fvcker @cryptkeepersoul @teaofpeach

[calumance]

I miss our baby aiden!! Maybe we can get toddler aiden and mommy watching cal doing a concert🥺🥰 you don’t have to I just miss him😍

Aww I miss little baby Aiden too!! He’s such a cute little guy 🥰🥰❤️❤️

           The doorbell rang, telling you that your best friend was at the front door. You had been on the phone with her only a few minutes ago as she left her house telling you that she as on her way to your place. Aiden was sitting on the couch watching his favorite cartoon, his feet not even able to hang off the edge of the couch. The sound of the doorbell didn’t even phase him, his eyes still glued to the TV. You smiled as you strutted over to the door and opened it. Alex pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and smiled. She was wearing a 5 Seconds of Summer shirt that looked as if she bought it only a few hours ago. As Alex walked past you, you laughed. “What’s so funny?” She asked as she set her purse down on the stand next to the door.

           You shook your head and shoved your hands into your back pockets after closing the front door. “Nothing, but did you buy that shirt on your way here, or?” The smile continued to pull at your lips as you pointed to the shirt covering her body. The shirt that was so fresh, the sleeves had very abundant fold creases on them.

           Alex looked down at herself and smirked. “Actually, I bought it yesterday.” She stuck her tongue out at you and then turned towards the living room to look at Aiden. You chuckled again before reaching up and pulling at the tag that was hanging out of the back of her shirt. Alex rolled her eyes at you as you walked past her.

           Aiden caught sight of Alex and his face lit up, “Auntie!” He threw his arms up and stood on the couch. Alex jogged towards him and lifted him up from his armpits and set him on her hip. They hugged and greeted each other as you walked down the hallway into Aiden’s room. Once you gathered all of the clothes you wanted Aiden to wear to the concert, you headed back to the living room.

           When you walked back into the living room, Alex was sitting on the couch with Aiden on her lap. His legs were straddling hers, and he was facing her. Her hands were linked together behind his back making sure he wouldn’t fall backwards off her lap. Aiden was deep in story telling her about how his dad called him this morning and that they talked for a bit while Aiden drew him a picture. Alex listened to every word Aiden babbled to her, and you let them talk until it was cutting it close to the time you were needing to leave. “Come on, baby, let’s get you dressed so we can go watch daddy.” Aiden smiled and nodded, holding up his arms so you could take him away from Alex.

           Once you got Aiden dressed, you propped him onto your hip and followed Alex out of the house, making sure everything was secure. Alex hopped into the passenger seat of your car as you loaded Aiden into his car seat. “Mama, play music!” Aiden said while you pulled out of the neighborhood. You chuckled as you reached forward and turned on Aiden’s favorite music: his dad.

           There were people lined up around the whole venue already, even though there were still a few more hours until the doors opened. Calum had told you where to park, but you found a better spot and pulled in there. Once you got Aiden out of the car, he held onto your hand as you walked towards the venue. “I think Calum told me to go through the back doors so we don’t have to deal with the crowd.” You said to Alex as you pointed to the doors by the buses.

           Aiden objected and pulled your arm. “No, mama, I want to go in the front!” Whenever Aiden wanted to do something, it was hard to fight him. Being that he was five, going on fifteen, he had an attitude that you didn’t necessarily want to deal with. So, with a sigh, you agreed and followed Aiden as he pulled you to the front of the venue.

           A few fans waved at Aiden, but he was on too much of a mission to get inside to pay attention to his admirers. You waved at the security guards as they smiled at you and opened the doors. Once you were inside, you let go of Aiden’s hand, allowing him to run around the open floor while you pulled your phone out to call Calum. “Hello, my darling,” Calum answered, “Are you guys here?”

           “Yeah, Aiden wanted to come in the front though, so we’re on the floor. Can you come say hi, or do we need to come backstage?” You asked while keeping an eye on Aiden as he continued to run around like he had fifteen pounds of sugar before your arrived. Alex excused herself from your side and headed to the bar which was still being set up. Even though they were still setting up, she always had a way of getting the bartenders of giving her drinks.

           “I’ll be right there, don’t move.” Calum told you before hanging up without another word. Just as you dropped your phone back into your pocket, Alex came up next to you, handing you a lime flavored White Claw. You smiled and thanked her, watching as Aiden ran around in a circle making noises that sounded vaguely like an airplane.

           Calum appeared from the side of the stage and your heart started to race. He smiled at you and looked at his son who was preoccupied with whatever it was that he was doing. A smug smile stretched across Calum’s lips as he slowly snuck up behind his son. Calum scooped Aiden off his feet, causing him to scream in happiness. You and Alex made your way over to the two of them as Calum spun Aiden around in a circle. Aiden kept his arms around Calum’s neck as Calum leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to your lips. He hummed tasting your lips and smiled, “I missed you.” He kissed you again before pulling away and pressing a kiss to the side of Aiden’s head.

           For a while, Calum hung out, occupying Aiden, but once it was time for him to get ready for the show, he headed back to the dressing room. As the crowd filled the venue, you propped Aiden on the guard rail and placed some earplugs in his ears. The fans around you kept Aiden occupied while you or Alex went to get drinks, but once the lights went out and the music started, all Aiden cared about what watching his dad from the crowd. He screeched in happiness and clapped when Calum came on the stage. Calum adjusted his ear monitors and smiled at Aiden, giving him a wave before wrapping his hands around his bass and playing his music.

           Aiden squealed in happiness when Calum addressed him through the microphone. Everyone screamed along with him, causing you to cover his ears for extra protection. As the show went on, you danced with Aiden and sang along to every word. The smile on Calum’s face never faltered. You, Alex and Aiden made your way backstage after the show was over, finding Calum still smiling from ear to ear in the dressing room. Calum reached down and picked Aiden up, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then a kiss to your lips. Aiden rested his head on Calum’s shoulder as Calum caressed your cheek with his freehand, “I have the most amazing family. I love you so much.” He said before bringing your lips to his. It’s true, you really were the most perfect family.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday @talkfastromance4

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 9

Buster hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and stared up with admiration at the 120-foot crane. Having been delivered to the set in multiple pieces by a fleet of huge trucks, the workmen had just finished putting it together. “Beautiful, ain’t she?”

At his side, Joe grimaced. “Did you have to?”

“ ‘Course I did,” said Buster. “How else are we going to lift the hospital off me in the cyclone sequence?”

“I just didn’t expect it … it’s so big, you know?”

“Damn right it is.”

“How much did it cost?” “How much did it cost? Really?” Buster said, feeling like Joe had just stuck a pin in his mood and popped it. “It cost what it cost.”

Joe rubbed the back of his neck as he looked up at the crane. “I just wish you’d said something first. Harry’s worried about going over budget.”

“Tell him he can blow it out his ass,” said Buster. “I’m getting damn sick of Harry. Didn’t we all sit down and agree a cyclone was just fine?” He bit his tongue and didn’t say ‘I told you so,’ because if they’d stuck to the original plan, there wouldn’t have been a crane. He wasn’t sure how much the cyclone had run them so far, but it was already over $20,000.

“Yeah, I guess we did. Just try to—” said Joe. “Well don’t go overboard, is what I’m getting at.”

Buster, who had already handsomely paid to go overboard, kept his silence again. “Sure.”

They took a street car to K Street. The sidewalks were still busy when they arrived at the Senator theater around 6:30, everyone parading around in their Saturday night finery. She felt good about the ensemble she’d chosen, a short-sleeved dusty peach cotton dress with a mauve straw cloche hat and silk stockings. Inside, the Senator was cool. She’d been to a picture there only once before, but it was enough to make her fall in love with the place, which had been built just two years prior and was new like everything on the West coast was new. It was adorned in velvet drapes and jardinières heaped with fresh chrysanthemums, plush wall-to-wall carpeting, and fringed lamps, but her favorite feature was the painted dome and the enormous multi-tiered chandelier hanging from its center.

As she and the Kimbles took their seats in the balcony, she looked to the box seats on either side of the theater, half-expecting to see Buster in one, but she didn’t. Maybe he was in the crowd, but there was only so much gawking she could do before attracting attention. She saw him in person nearly every day now, but always at a distance and always when he was busy in front of or behind the camera. River Junction had been a bustle of workmen and noise in the mornings as they rebuilt sets for the cyclone and put together the biggest crane she’d seen in her life. Bert allowed her to take breaks a couple times a day to watch the filming. Even though she was behind the scenes now and could see everything, from the cluster of noisy cameras to the even noisier rain machines, the sight of Buster falling into a puddle up to his waist or being blown off his feet by a gust of wind was still a laugh. On Thursday, she’d been called upon to place an order for five large loaves of bread from a bakery, but they were spirited off to an unknown part of the set and their purpose remained a mystery. 

Her brief acquaintance with Buster seemed to have come to an end and she wasn’t inclined to press it any further, having made an ass of herself the first day in his dressing room and then later after the party at the blind tiger. It was enough that he knew her name. She’d begun hoping that the company would keep her on when they wrapped filming and packed up for Hollywood in a few weeks. The more she stuck around, the more people would know her face, and the more people knew her face, the greater her chances were of being recognized by a studio.

She shared Joe and Maggie’s jumbo box of Junior Mints as the lights went down and the opening short started. An organ in an arched box with pillars provided accompaniment. 

When the opening credits of Buster’s feature began, Nelly’s pulse quickened a little bit. It was surreal when he finally appeared on the screen, walking beneath an umbrella with his mother in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin; she’d gotten used to him as a flesh-and-blood person. She now knew how his production company made that rain and that there were cameras in front of him tracking his every step. She also knew that the person inside the truck driving down the street in the background was an extra. Nevertheless, the scene still looked believable, and pretty soon she was sucked into the story like the rest of the audience.

Buster played a brainy college freshman without a lick of athletic ability, which happened to be the only thing his girl cared about. He spent most of the picture trying out for sports to impress her and failing miserably. Buster often took two or three-hour lunches to play baseball with his production team, so Nelly couldn’t quite buy that he didn’t understand the rules of the game and couldn’t hit a ball to save his life.

As the movie wore on, she became aware—and it gave her an unpleasant sensation, like an itch—that he was better-looking than she remembered. It embarrassed her somewhat to see him in his skimpy track outfit. In one scene where he sat on the sidelines, the shorts rode up so high she could see where his tan ended and his natural skin tone, considerably paler, began. She was almost glad when the movie ended. The last few seconds had been queer, besides. The scene of Buster and his girl walking out of the chapel after being married had melted into a scene of them sitting at home while their children played in the background, then one of them in old age, before concluding with a shot of two headstones.

The organ died away and the lights went up. 

“What on earth did that ending mean?” said Maggie, with a look on her face.

“I don’t know,” said Nelly, but it had given her a bad taste. Judging by the expressions on their neighbors’ faces, they weren’t alone in their confusion. Even in Shakespeare’s time, everyone knew that you ended a comedy with a marriage. To do otherwise was to let your audience down. The abrupt, morbid ending brought her back to reality and reminded her that the real Buster was not to be confused with his handsome, whimsical on-screen counterpart.

Joe was the only one who seemed to find the ending funny and tried explaining it as they made their way up the balcony and down the stairs. Nelly was busy searching the exiting crowd for Buster’s face and only half listened. They made it out onto the sidewalk before she accepted she wasn’t going to see him that night. 

Maggie proposed getting hamburgers before they went home and Joe and Nelly agreed. They found a diner on L Street and sat in a booth with a checkered red-and-white tablecloth.

“So what’s he really like?” Maggie said, after their food arrived and they were tucking into burgers and coleslaw. She was a heavier girl, pretty, with auburn hair and freckles on her nose. Her claim to fame was that her maternal grandfather had been one of the original inhabitants of Sacramento when it was first incorporated. She’d asked Nelly the question before, but Nelly didn’t mind answering it again. Buster had rubbed off some fifteen minutes of fame onto her and there was no sense in not using them. Of course, she hadn’t told them that he was her savior the night of the party; in her untruthful retelling, Bert had played that role. They did know, however, that he had invited her to be an extra and that she’d baked him cookies after his accident with the baseball.

“Not much like that,” said Nelly. She looked up and scanned the faces in the other booths as if one might belong to Buster, but they didn’t. “He smiles in real life, but you know that, I’ve said that before. He can be very solemn. He’s not boyish like he is in pictures. I think he’s a kind person, mostly.” She was almost surprised to hear herself say it, but it was a conclusion she’d come to in spite of how he’d appalled her at their first meeting. He’d been a gentleman through and through when he rescued her at the party and took her back to his hotel room, and she couldn’t help but alter her opinion because of it. “He keeps a lot to himself and sticks to his own pals. And he’s very funny, just as funny as his movies.”

“He’s a real athlete too,” Joe said. “He can’t hide that.”

Nelly agreed. “Yes, he plays a lot of baseball with his team.”

“I liked the picture anyway. The gags were funny,” said Joe.

“It was alright,” Nelly said.  

Maggie added, “I’m still not keen on that ending.”

“No,” said Nelly. 

They ate their burgers and the conversation moved to the Senators game (everything was called Senator here since Sacramento was the capital) and how, according to Joe at least, the team hadn’t been the same since Brick Eldred (whoever he was) left. It was getting late by the time they left the diner, and they took a taxi back to 22nd Street, Nelly and Maggie deciding that they’d forgo the dance hall for the evening. 

Nelly had almost forgotten about Buster by the time she crawled into bed around eleven. She tried to drift off by boring herself with thoughts of baseball. Her father and uncle liked the White Sox, but she’d never really understood or cared for the game. Her only memory of the game she’d been taken to as a little girl was of eating hot dogs and popcorn and wandering the stands with Ruthie. Although she couldn’t say why, fantasies of men had not been satisfying since the incident with Tommy, not even her go-to of John Barrymore. The idea that a man might take up baseball or another sport he was abysmal at in order to win the love of a girl seemed laughable now that she thought about it, but Buster had done it—and more—in College. He’d even rescued the girl from his rival who was trying to ruin her reputation.

Her eyes shot open. She hadn’t thought of it until now, but Buster had rescued her that night at the blind tiger. Of course, he hadn’t done it out of a sense of love and there was no reading into the coincidence since the picture had been shot long before she’d met Tommy or Buster, but it struck her regardless. Maybe Buster’s pictures did reveal something of his character. As she puzzled over it, her thoughts got hazier and hazier, until finally she dropped off to sleep.

Note: Bonus update this week. I think you all deserve it after current events! Also, do admire this screengrab where Buster’s tan ends and his normal skin color begins. 

[kristinee]

Princess

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Road Head (this is dangerous, please be safe), Unprotected Sex (stay protected or you’ll get infected, Y/N is on birth control yktv), Topper calls you Princess constantly, Praise, I know it’s smut but like, its cute

Word Count: 1.7K

Request: “can you write an imagine with topper where you guys become like the kook prince and princess and you guys go to midsummers and it gets heated😏 and then he takes you home to finish what he started so basically smut with topper loll”

A/N: I know Topper had such bad tendencies but I kinda fell in love with him. He’s such a cutie and I feel he really sacrificed himself in the end because he loved Sarah so much he wanted to truly see her be happy even if it meant being with someone else. Anyway enough with the fluffy Topper stuff. I didn’t edit this or read it over cause I was rushing slightly. This is my first smut so enjoy.

It was your favorite day of the year, Midsummers. A day where you could dress up and be around your people, the kooks that is. It was even better this year though because you finally had a boyfriend to escort you which was always something you had wanted since you were a little girl, seeing these beautiful girls walk around like princesses. It was all you wanted and you hoped this would be your year now that you qualified to be in the running for Kook royalty. This year you were nominated alongside your boyfriend Topper, you had promised him an extra special surprise, win or lose. With those ideas pumping you took a while on deciding which dress suited you best. You decided on a beautiful silk dress that hugged all your curves and even had a leg slit, enough modesty for your family but enough exposure to prepare Top for a night of teasing. With your dress fitted, heels on and makeup done it was time to go so your family drove up and immediately went about their business but you met Topper in the lobby, his suit was color coordinated to match your dress and you couldn’t help but smile at the little things he did to make you happy. “Is that my girl?” he whistled as he saw you walk in. “Give me a little twirl” You laughed at the comment but did it anyways, twirling into his arms. 

Everyone had always told you not to get with him, that he had dated Sarah Cameron and you’d never be what she was but he quickly debunked those rumors. You guys were perfect for each other and as soon as he and Sarah split he became such a sensitive, considerate guy and you couldn’t be more thankful that he was no longer the asshole everyone knew him as. Topper Thornton.

By the time you finished in the lobby, it was time to hear Kook Royalty results. You were up against some of your friends and you didn’t want to sound stuck up but you and Top were the best couple there, or well, the least fake. These girls were in it for the money and the idea of being seen with some preppy athletic idiot or the guys being seen with some barbie doll. It was nice knowing you’d never have to worry about being that stupid. You were literally shaken out of your thoughts when you felt Topper’s hand on your shoulders. “Y/N we won. Hello?” You blinked a few times, looking at the huge smile on his face. Even if you had just thought about all the good things you remembered most of all how arrogant he was. You were in for a night of him showing off his Princess which meant he was in for something even more annoying.

The party went off great and it had probably been the best Midsummer’s so far and by this time the dance floor was full of teens while the adults were upstairs in the country club to get away from the noise and you could finally be a little more touchy with Topper without worrying about your dad giving him a death stare. An upbeat song came on and the timing couldn’t have been better as you pulled Top in close behind you, pressing him up to your backside. You felt his hot breath down your neck as he exhaled and placed his hands on your hips. The rhythmic swaying and little bit of alcohol you snuck fueled something fierce inside you and it was only a matter of time before you proposed a genius idea. “Hey babe.” his swaying stopped. “What’s up, are you good?” 

“Yeah yeah I’m fine, I was just thinking. What if I told my parents I was sleeping over at Becca’s house and you just take me to yours since I know your parents like to get drunk and stay at that fancy hotel down the way.” You didn’t even need him to speak to get a reaction. His body did it for him as his dick hardened at the thought, he knew what you were after. “You know..” his mouth came closer to your ear. “I think that would be fantastic Princess.” Just the name was already causing a heat between your thighs. “Okay, I’m gonna go let them know. Meet me at your car.” As you walked away you felt his eyes on you. He was ready to take you right there.

After explaining the plan to your drunken parents you headed straight for Top’s car. It was easy to spot in a crowd mostly because of how nice it was, being new and all. If he didn’t care so much about the leather seats and the suede lining you would’ve fucked him there but that made the drive all the more fun. It was only a few minutes in until his hand found it’s way to your thigh and you found yours on his. You couldn’t deny that you were beginning to get needy but it was starting to become overwhelming. He had been focused on his driving the whole time so you were waiting for a good window to open up so you could flirt a little and get him riled up but as soon as the window opened, it was slammed shut with a call from Rafe. “Hey dude what’s up, I’m just on my way home right now.” The frustration was getting to you so you decided you’d show Topper just how frustrated you were. Your hand was still resting on his leg until you decided it was time to move as you slowly began to rub his thigh in circles, moving inside his thigh, just slightly brushing his cock with the edge of your hand. His eyes shot toward you and you innocently smiled continuing the slight motion. “Uh yeah I’m still here, say that one more time.” With the plan in action, you moved up your hand, now rubbing his cock. He was already fully hard as you heard a little groan slip through his lips. “Oh yeah I’m good, my head’s just hurting real bad. Those shots did me in. I’m down the street from my house though.” You weren’t. “So I’ll talk to you tomorrow, see ya” You bent over the gearshift, shifted yourself to get comfortable as you planted a kiss on his cheek while undoing his belt. It was risky to do while he was on the road but there was no traffic this time of night and Topper was one for risk. “Are you okay with this babe?” you sat back on your feet before going down again. His hand caressing your cheek before gathering your hair in his hand and pulling you in for a kiss. You’d take that as a yes. His belt had already been undone so you pulled down his zipper. You pulled down his boxers and his slacks in one go. You took a second to just admire it before spitting on your hand and wrapping it around his cock, pumping it up and down. “Mmm, that feels so good.” You began to swirl the tip with your tongue before he hand bobbed your head up and down. “That’s it baby, we’re almost home.” You moaned just enough to get a reaction out him as he groaned once again, stopping the car in his empty driveway. You slid your mouth off his cock, wiping the spit from the ends of your mouth and pulling up his pants. You got out of the car and headed for the door. You’d never seen someone unlock a door so fast. You both threw down any extra belongings you had by the door and ran upstairs to his room. It was a beautiful place and his room was no exception. He had a massive bed with an ocean view terrace. You guys had definitely fucked there a few times.

The door closed behind both of you as you pushed Topper back on the bed. “Let me take off my dress, I paid too much to get cum stains on it.” You both laughed before you stripped it down along with your heels. He stripped too, all but his boxers “I’m so glad I get to call this mine.” Top sat up, wrapping his hands around your waist and bringing you down on top of him. You straddled his waist as you planted hot kisses on his neck down to his abs. You stopped right above his underwear. “I think I need to finish what I started.” You pulled his boxers down yet again, continuing the process until Top’s grip on your hair pulled you up off of him and up to his face. You could feel his heart beating with the closeness as your lips connected in a passionate kiss. You stopped for a moment of silence, only filled by heavy breathing. “I..fucking...love you.” the phrase that fell from his mouth ignited many things inside you. Your hips pressed together, preparing for the moments to come. “I love you too baby, let me show you just how much.” Your hand moved down your own chest to your heat. Moving to grab his cock as you positioned it below your entrance. You slowly lowered down, adjusting to his size. “Fuck” You’d done this a few times before but it felt new each and every time. Topper set his hands on your hips and began to help you move up and down. The sounds of skin coming together and moans and groans were beginning to fill the room. Your hands exploring each other's bodies. 

He soon flipped you over so he was on top. His eyes looking down all over your body “Tell me what you want Y/N.” “Please just fuck me.” His eyes lit up as he positioned himself back inside you moving even harder and faster than before. “You make me feel so good baby” You felt yourself on edge. “I’m so close,” you were breathing harder than before and everything just felt so hot and heavy “Me too, cum with me.” Your breath synced as you both reached your high. He pulled himself and laid there with you, arms wrapped around each other “Love you Princess” “Love you too Top.” The hug tightened and you two stayed there until you fell asleep.

[pansexualseaanimals]

Chapter 9 Sneak Peeks ‘Cause You Deserve It

Hey guess what? I’m still alive! I haven’t been writing for a while because these past few chapters have kind of been making me face things about my own life that I hadn’t given due time to address and manage (especially Pyxis and Rory’s thoughts on how parents can “love you but not want you”, and stuff said by multiple people in chapter 9, the one I’m still writing) so I kinda just dealt with those thoughts and came to conclusions and stuff in my own mind while I endlessly binged anime and video games. Not that I don’t normally do that, mind you, but I did it a lot more and not much else.

Luckily, I live in a wonderful gorgeous apartment in my favorite town I’ve ever lived in (the only town I’ve ever called home, in fact! At least, in this world!) and it’s super comfortable and I live with my best friend who is way too good of a roommate if I must be frank - I’d rather be Columbia, honestly - and life has been relatively super good, so like. Don’t worry! I’m so happy in my life the way it is! I’m back home in the Midwest, surrounded by beauty and friends who’ve helped me out more than I could ever ask (but I did, let’s not lie lol) and... I still have depression and I’m working on that and planning on getting a doctor soon, but... I’m starting new good habits, getting into things I’ve been wanting to try, and yeah... I’m rambling at this point so I’ll make the rest quick.

I wanted to give sneak peeks because it’s been SO LONG and I don’t know how many people really actually read this thing? Like, “I’m excited that there’s a new chapter” kind of peeps? But no matter how few there are, you guys all deserve something nice, and this was all I could think of. Instead of just posting one scene, I’ll post a few clips from a bunch of scenes. Everything is subject to change as I keep writing, so it might not match the finished product, but... That just means you guys are extra-special! Heehee! ^__^ 

Excerpts are below the read-more cut. Hope it’s enjoyable! 

\/\/\/\/\/

"Oh, I've got twenty-five coins for the sea show clanking in the backseat, whoa-oh. I've got thirty-two seashells lined up in a row..." Caurel happily sang as she covered the turquoise side in pink, pausing and hiding in a corner when she noticed Zebra rising out of the spawn pool. The younger Inkling, hesitant, flung her brush wildly to cover the pink ink and swam forward, repeating the process every few feet. When she dropped down to the valley, she triggered another Ink Mine, this time getting away just quickly enough.

  "Not falling for that again," they sighed... right before Caurel popped out of her corner and slashed her brush at her, sending her floating right back to the spawn point. Unable to keep from giggling, Caurel re-inked the entrance ramp and climbed up to the higher level, brushing quickly down the alley as Zebra respawned again.

  "And I'll swim, swim, swim, to my darling Martha... And let her lay me down in the bay where the warm winds blow~"

  "Are we singing the same song?" Penny shouted from the audience, loud enough to be heard over the stage music.

"'Martha's Bay' by the Seagulls?" Caurel shouted back for confirmation.

"I knew it! Ahhh, I love you!"

"I love you, too, Butterfly!"

"Boooo!" Rocky shouted as he took out Thresher. "Get a room!"

  "But their love for each other is like our love," Ankyr said with a wink.

"You really are a sea turtle."

  "Hey, only Pyxis can call me-" SPLASH! Ankyr fell prey to Bonnet's Heavy Splatling.

"FOR ANKYR!" Rocky jumped up and flung his roller down before rolling toward Bonnet - and getting caught in a freshly thrown Splash Wall.

  "I love it when he does that," Tiger squeaked.

\/\/\/\/\/

"What took you so long? Why did you trade Ankyr for these randos?"

"Rocky," Caurel sighed. "They're the friends we were supposed to meet today, remember?"

"Oh..."

"Guys, this is Rocky, our squad's leader," Pyxis laughed.

  "Nice to meet you," Carina said, stepping forward to shake Rocky's hand. "Don't worry, my 'boyfriend' will be back soon."

  "'BOYFRIEND'?" The entire crowd turned their attention to the charismatic newcomer.

  "It's just an inside joke," Pyxis hastily assured them. "You'd just have to be there."

"Yeah, he kind of saved me a lot of hassle," Carina shrugged.

  "My Sunshine has inside jokes with people I don't know," Moises thought out loud. "Not sure how I feel about this..."

"Well, you know us now," Hans piped up. "She's Carina, I'm Hans, this here is Shera, and the rude guy is Cygnus."

"I haven't said anything rude yet!"

"We all know you will," Shera said as she scooched over to Abbey. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm aromantic," Abbey said between sips of coffee. Their friends howled with laughter in the background.

"Aw, that's too bad... Are you... asexual, too?"

"They're not sex-repulsed, if that's what you mean," Pyxis jumped in. "That's not what asexual means, though."

"Sweet little Pyxis," Cygnus chuckled, patting his friend on the head. "Always here to educate her friends."

"...You mean their friends," Rocky corrected.

  "What? No. You too? Are all Squids okay with the whole fluid-gender thing?"

"You didn't even last five minutes," Hans sighed, covering his face with his palm.

  "Look, she was born with lady-parts, am I wrong or am I right?"

"Here's what I know," Rocky began slowly, stepping closer to the Octoling and staring him in the eye. "This particular group of friends respects what people choose to call themselves. When you're with us, you refer to Pyxis as they/them. If you can't handle that, you can swim back home."

"ROCKY!" Caurel grabbed her brother's arm and yanked him down to sit beside her. "They're our guests!"

"And Pyxis is family," he bit back. "Which is more important to you?"

"Wow, they really worship you around here," Cygnus laughed, turning to leave. "Do they even really know you? Your history? What have you been telling them?"

"Cygnus, get back here and act your age," Carina commanded.

"No thanks, Your Majesty."

  The crowd was hushed for some time, the noises of the audience around them and the battle down below, permeating their silent space.

  "Sorry about that," Carina finally spoke up. "I told him to behave himself. But he's... how do you say... stuck in his ways."

"He's only twenty-two," Shera rolled her eyes. "He's just a stubborn pufferfish."

"You okay, honey?" Hans asked Pyxis, who was too busy processing their own thoughts to realize they should answer.

"...I'm family?"

\/\/\/\/\/

And now, here’s Shera going goo-goo over more Inklings

---

“Vanilla? Is that a brand, or...?"

"Oh no, I just mean, the original one."

"So... Vanilla means original?"

"The basic form of something, yes. Regular. It's just slang."

"Who's the person with the gatling?"

"Ah, that's Pixie with the Zink Mini Splatling. Disruptor and Bubbler."

"Pixie..." Shera turned to where Pyxis was seated. "PIXIE!"

  "Yes?"

"I can never call you Pixie again! That's the name of my new future wife!" Ecto and Thresher couldn't help but laugh.

"...Glad to hear it?"

"She's actually dating Ty right now," Tandy pointed out. "Sorry, you'll have to look elsewhere."

"Darn."

"Great Overseer," Carina sighed. "Why are you so thirsty today?"

"I dunno, Queenie," Shera shrugged and shook her head. "Look. I had no idea Squidlings could be so attractive, okay?"

"I mean, she's not wrong," Hans laughed. "The first time I saw Ankyr..."

"YOU CAN DO IT, GUYS!" Pyxis suddenly stood up and cheered as loud as they could.

\/\/\/\/\/

And now for some good parents! Specifically, Ecto’s dads. Well, one of them. The other is busy playing Pokémon with Caurel and co. in the living room at this moment. They haven’t been mentioned much so far, but they’re great friends with the Waters (Waters’? Waterss?) ever since all the families met, and Rocky and Caurel hang out with them a lot.

---

"That's because you can look back on the past, apply your knowledge of the present, and cook up a better future for yourself. A new happiness. Again, one that won't last forever. And maybe it's not perfect. Maybe you burn your tongue. Maybe you let it go cold without realizing. But there'll always be more soup."

"You just have an answer for everything, don't you?" Rocky scoffed, throwing more tomatoes into the pot.

  "Not quite. There's one thing I've always wondered."

"The secret of life?"

"Nah, figured that out in college."

"What? No. Shut up." The two shared a laugh. Mister Plasma reduced the burner's heat and placed a lid on the pot, before turning to Rocky.

  "Back when you were in Coral Reef's boat... Why didn't you say anything?"

  "Well..." Rocky took a moment to continue. "Figured there wasn't any point, I guess. Can't help it if the person you have a crush on is gay. Like, if Pop was het, you wouldn't have the love of your life."

"Well I'm glad that's not the case," he said with a short laugh, before frowning and patting Rocky on the head. "Sorry, hon."

"It's fine. That's one of those 'just move on' parts in life. So I did."

"Ah..."

"Happened with Ankyr, too. But that was back when we were super tiny. Like.. That's a different kind of love. Baby love, I guess. But then again, we thought Ankyr was a girl back then. That was easier to move on from."

  "You just can't catch a break," Dad laughed. "Anyone on your mind these days?" Rocky thought a while before answering.

"I... Not really. I don't know, Oji. Guess I'm kind of giving up for now. I just wanna cook and take care of the ocean. Those are my loves. Well, I'll never get tired of Turf War either. I guess... that's it."

"And that's A-okay," the adult Inkling nodded, before yelling "COME AND GET IT!" There was a multitude of shuffling sounds from the living room as the young adults made their way to the kitchen. "Come see us any time," he said again. "We'll always be here for you."

\/\/\/\/\/

And that’s all I have for you here today, I wanna stop myself before I give away more than I might have given away... But yeah, working on that slowly but surely now. I was already about halfway-ish done with the chapter before I fell off, I think? Depends if I think of adding any more scenes than what’s already planned. So, look forward to that soon! Catch you on the flip side~

P.S.: As a reminder, this is the second-to-last chapter I’m writing; after 10 is over, we’ll be moving on to the second book in the series, which will hopefully have much better pacing and will definitely be a lot different, but still be about the lives of Pyxis, Ankyr, and their loved ones - that will never change. Some of your favorite characters might not be around as much in book 2, some might get a spotlight where they hadn’t before, and of course we’ll meet lots of new friends, and you’ll just have to decide what you think of each of them. :3 But I hope you have fun. Regardless of anything, thanks for reading. If you’ve read any of Look Alive, Sunshine, you have my Heart Containers, and my eternal gratitude. Please let me know what you think, if you’ve got the time. Love & hugs!

[angel-squid-trash-ghost]

Parental Guidance Pt.2

                Katara’s new habit was sitting in the healing hut and watch Kehana work. It had been four days after the Fire nation men had escaped and when the boy finally moved. Katara looked down at him. He stared back with one eye. The other had been bandaged after the dead skin was removed. His eye was thin and a shade of yellow she had only seen in her dreams. His skin was pale, and his long hair was as dark as the winter sky. Katara wasn’t sure if he saw her. The boy didn’t react in the slightest. He just stared and blinked at her. Katara knew he was Fire Nation. Fire nation is what everyone told her to be afraid of. Fire nation is what took her mommy away. But this boy was hurt. He had a burn on his face. Maybe he had been hurt like her mommy had.

“Hello.” Katara breathed.

The boy didn’t answer. He just blinked.

Katara nodded once, “Are you thirsty?” She reached over for a cup of water. He watched her arm as it moved. “Drink.”

                The boy tried to sit up. Katara put her hand behind his back. He gingerly took the cup and took a sip. And then a gulp. He gulped until he was tilting his head back.

“Slowly! Slowly!” Katara giggled.

                Kehana turned around to see the boy sitting upright. Her shriek startled them both. The cup went flying and the boy curled into Katara. Kehana dropped the ointment she was mixing and ran out of the hut. The gust of cold caused the boy to push into her further. She took a note from her brother and shushed him gently as she waited for who most likely would be her dad.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry. Dad is nice.” She tried to reassure him. But the boy was shaking.

Surprisingly Sokka entered first. He probably heard the scream from Kehana.

“Katara what happened!” Then he saw the Fire nation boy sitting straight with his eye open.

              For days Sokka heard the adults gossip about the Fire nation boy. Most said he was going to die abandoned by his own people. His sister thought otherwise. When Kehana couldn’t get broth down his throat, Katara did. When no one wanted to supervise him, Katara did. The half faced half dead child was her new project. Sokka hadn’t bothered her because for whatever reason she hadn’t mentioned their mother since. She would just sit and feed and mend the corpse. Now the corpse who was very much alive sat upright. He hung on his sister like a polar dog on its mother’s tit. And it bothered him.

“What is he doing?” Sokka gestured to the trembling boy.

“I think he’s scared.” Katara stroked his hair which seemed to calm the boy down a bit.

              Hakoda entered the hut. The men behind him held the pelt open, causing air to drift in. So, the boy bent again inwards. The men all murmured. But her father didn’t say anything for some time. Katara didn’t let him go. She held him in her arms while he took in her warmth. Her dad exited without a word, leaving just the children in the hut.

“Hush, hush. It’s ok. I promise. You’ll be safe.” Katara stroked more.

“Don’t tell him that!” Sokka cut in, “You don’t know that. Dad is gonna send him back with the other Fire nation scum!”

“Shut up. He’s hurt too.” Katara looked down at the quivering boy.

“Hey, kid!” Sokka ticked his head, “Can you stand up?”

The boy didn’t answer. He stayed curled into Katara.

“Hey, kid! Why were you on that ship? How did you sink? Are you a spy? What are your Fire nation plans?” Sokka asked without missing a beat.

“Be quiet. He just woke up.” Katara said.

“What’s your name, kid?” Sokka repeated the question when he didn’t answer.

Katara decided to try. She drew a little bit away, “What’s your name little boy?”

The boy babbled something that Katara couldn’t understand.

“Eh! He speaks Fire’s Tongue. He can’t understand us.” Sokka pointed.

                The voices of the men outside got louder.

Katara ignored them. “Can you understand us?” The boy continued to stare. Katara thought for a moment. She gestured to herself then to her brother, “Katara, Katara. Sokka, Sokka.” She put her hand on his shoulder “You?”

The boy looked between her and her brother, “Zuko.” He said quietly.

“Zuko!” Katara was elated. She wasn’t sure why.

Sokka suddenly was interested. He knelt next to them. “Zuko enemy.”

“No!” Katara pushed Sokka over.

Zuko was trying to say something back. He looked back at Katara and tried to say something to her too. Zuko then started to cry.

She tried to shush him again. She shook his shoulder and stroked his long sweaty hair, “Zuko is safe. Safe. Zuko is safe.” Katara wiped his tears.

              There were other voices outside now. Katara heard Kehana and other women starting to argue. The village must have been gathering around. Katara wasn’t as brave as she was pretending to be. She hoped her dad would come back inside soon. Sokka grumbled about her being dumb. Zuko laid his head back to her chest. He started shaking again.

Hakoda returned. Others tried to follow but he held them back. “Children go outside.”

               As soon as Katara moved Zuko white knuckled her parka. He tried to tell her something again but stopped when she stayed quiet. He wept softly.

               Hakoda scanned the boy. He seemed harmless, but the people outside were worried. Each minute that passed caused the crowd to get louder. He didn’t blame them. He too was worried about the child’s presence. He only found comfort in the fact winter was coming soon. Winter was the safest time as long as there was food and warmth. Fire Nation didn’t dare sail Southern waters if they had the risk of getting trapped.

               Hakoda called for his mother. Kanna didn’t need to push her way through. She was the oldest and most respected member of the community. Most of her life was lived during war. No one would question her wisdom on the matters of who was an enemy or not. The crowd separated for her as she entered the healing hut. If anyone knew what to do it would be her.

“And what’s the matter?” Kanna squinted her eyes to get a look at the crying Fire Nation boy.

“Gran-Gran, he says his name is Zuko.” Katara stroked his hair.

“Mm, Hakoda, tell Zuko he’s safe now.” Kanna pulled over a seat and sat down with a grunt, “Katara sit him up. Come on now.”

Katara didn’t hesitate. She lifted Zuko up, so he was sitting next to her.

Sokka puffed his chest out. “When is he gonna leave! Dad can’t talk to him. No one can.”

“Oh, stop that.” Kanna tapped his chest back down.

             Hakoda knelt down to his daughter and her feeble patient. He switched to Trade Jargon. It didn’t come as easily as he would have liked. He said the few words that he knew asking who he was. The boy didn’t react. The one little eye that he had watched him. Hakoda nodded.

“I’m afraid he only speaks the Fire language.” Hakoda stood tall.

“That’s enough for now. Time to go.” Kanna said.

“Are we going to teach him? What’s going to happen to him?” Katara asked.

Sokka pointed  angrily, “So he can infiltrate our forces?!”

“Shut up!” Katara squeaked. Zuko put his head on her shoulder.

“None of that. Come now.” Kanna stood and shuffled to the children.

               Kanna held her arms out. Zuko looked at Katara who smiled. He tried to stand. His legs wobbled and almost gave way. Hakoda’s arm shot out and he tried to catch the boy the best he could. Katara held him by the underarms almost falling too.

“We should have moved your legs more!” Katara struggled not to drop him.

               Hakoda took a firmer hold on Zuko. Bato called inside. The people were waiting apprehensively for what’s going to be done about the boy. Their question was answered when Kanna appeared carrying Zuko. Zuko held her tight around her neck trying to hide his face from the icy breeze. Some attempted to move him to get their first look. Kanna shooed their hands away.

“So where are we taking him?” Sokka followed his father closely.

“Home.” Hakoda said with his own uncertainty.

“What!? He’s going to live with us?” Sokka threw his arms up.

“Yay!” Katara skipped after her Gran-Gran.

…

              His mother prepared some extra sleeping furs. She arranged them next to Katara’s and Sokka’s bedding. He didn’t agree of her choice of placement but was not going to incur her wrath. It seemed she had already got attached to the Fire Nation pup. Hakoda watched as the boy ate small bites from the dinner his mother made. His little hands were also bandaged. He hadn’t noticed any other injuries besides the blaring scar when he arrived. It was a miracle how such a small child survived a shipwreck.

              Hakoda couldn’t help but be suspicious. He saw the child but saw the golden eye first. Zuko started taking bigger bites. Katara moved the spoon in his hand so he dribbled less. The boy seemed to not mind the attention of his mother or daughter. He noticed however that he would glare at Sokka if he spoke.

“What’s wrong with it? I thought you liked seaweed stew. You’ve barely taken a bite.” Kanna said giving a look only a mother could give.

Hakoda took a bite. And then another. It was delicious.

“Zuko. Do you like it?” Katara turned her head. Zuko blinked at her. Katara pointed to the bowl. “Good?”

Zuko nodded enthusiastically, “Good!”

“Do you remember my name?” Katara directed to herself.

“Katara!” Zuko smiled.

“And him?” Katara pointed at his son.

Zuko lost his smile for something more indifferent, “Sokka.”

“Zuko enemy!” Sokka stuck out his tongue.

“No!” Zuko jutted out his spoon.

“Wow you’re learning so quick!” Katara patted him. Zuko smiled again.

              His mother introduced herself as Gran-Gran. Hakoda found it odd but he ignored it. He introduced himself as Sir. Kanna made a noise. Katara didn’t seem to like it either. Hakoda ignored that too.  He didn’t want them getting to used to Zuko being in their house. The only reason he allowed it was out of respect for his mother. If he had his way, the boy looked well enough to be sent a drift on a raft. Hakoda sighed. His mind relented and steadied his nerves. Zuko was only a child. There wasn’t much the small boy could do to hurt them. Except maybe eat all their food. Hakoda chuckled when Zuko lifted his bowl to drink the rest of his stew. It was harder to ignore the old man’s words echoing in his head. I know your heart cannot be so hard.

              The candles wore down and Hakoda announced the children’s bedtime. Kanna made Hakoda dig out some of Sokka’s old sleep clothes for Zuko. Zuko stared at the blue fabric for some time grinning to himself. He wondered what the boy was thinking. Hell, he couldn’t ask. But in the same night Zuko could say their names, good, yes, no, please, and bed. When Katara changed his bandages, he learned the word hurt.

              Zuko was able to walk over to his own bedding without help. To be a child again and recover that quickly, Hakoda thought. Kanna tucked them in tight. She gave each child a kiss before going to tend the hearth. Hakoda leaned down and said his nightly prayers over his two children and bid them goodnight. He hugged and kissed them as he normally did and started to leave. Zuko sat up. He said something in Fire’s Tongue before his lip started to tremble.

              Hakoda’s eye twitched. The notion of telling him to be quiet or to comfort him collided in his mind making it go blank. He scratched his temple thinking of what to do next. His mind went in circles until his heart made his decision. He knelt down to the boy and pecked him quick on the forehead.

“Goodnight, Zuko.” He whispered to the half-faced boy.

“Yes.” Zuko smiled.

              Some nights after, Zuko woke up three times screaming. The first two times Katara talked to him until he settled back down. The third time he crawled over to Hakoda's furs. He tried to tell him something that Hakoda couldn’t recognize. Zuko tried desperately to make Hakoda understand. It broke his heart. Every time Hakoda shook his head Zuko whined and motioned to his head.

"Hurt? Does it hurt?" Hakoda pointed to his scar.

Zuko whined again this time wrapping both arms around his crown. "No good."

"Oh! You had a bad dream!" Hakoda made the best gesture he could think of.

              Zuko seemed to understand. Zuko shuddered sobbing. Big wet tears rolled out of his good eye. He held the bandages so the tears would not leave his left one and irritate the wound. Hakoda’s didn’t know how to comfort him. He had a few nightmares himself as a child. Most children have one or two. He’d be haunted by child eating ocean creatures and evil gremlins. But his daughter dreamt about the murder of his wife. And there was no telling the horrors Zuko dreamt of.

              Hakoda picked Zuko up and cradled him to the crook of his neck. He rubbed his back and said nice things to him. Zuko did not stop shivering until he fell back asleep. Hakoda kept Zuko with him the rest of the night. He slept through the night after that.

              There were more nights when Zuko woke crying. And more nights after that when he’d wake sweating. But it was his daughter who took on the responsibility. She would push herself out of slumber and pull him back to his furs.

“Zuko is safe.” She murmured in her tiredness.

[n-ctarinenga]

Flower Boy [ boxer!calum ]

flower boy series | pt.1 | word count: 5,659 | masterlist

"Thank you so much! I'll have these to you as soon as possible. Goodbye!"

Talia grins, as she farewells the family whos portraits she had just finished shooting.

As much as she loves photography, there were only so many matching outfits and unhappy children a person could handle in a day, and with the family that had just left her studio, Talia had reached her limit.

Draining days were something she had gotten used to, business booming lately thanks to the kind words of a handful of past clients. With doors only opening just under a year ago, Valentine Studios didn't exactly have the longest history in town, but Talia liked to believe her dedication and skill made up for lack of experience.

Her mother hadn't really approved of the move, her ideals for her daughter being stuck a few decades in the past.

With the thought of her mother flashing through her mind, Talia couldn't help but sigh as she moved to pack up her camera for the night.

After the great disbandment of the Alisley family, it was nearly impossible for either of the Alisley children to communicate with their mother, but that didn't stop Yvonne from making her annual call to her kids, mostly about the percentage paid out to them every couple weeks from their father's estate royalties, which in Talia's case, was this morning.

From that point onward, it felt like the universe had decided to torment Talia today.

Starting off with the phone call, and most recently manifesting as a set of twins who refused to do any form of posing with their parents, Talia couldn't wait to go home and sleep so she could start the next day fresh and away from the negative vibes of the current day.

Once her backdrops had been rolled up,  and her camera was safely stored in its bag, Talia finally had time to let down her dark brown hair, the two bright streaks of red framing her face. She took great pleasure in turning all the lights off, and locking the door of the studio behind her.

Taking a second to relax in her car, Talia looks at her phone, scrolling through til she reaches the contact of her brother, Brandon.

The Alisley family were estranged from each other these days, but that didn't mean that Talia and Brandon had stopped being lifelong best friends.

The two had always been close, only a couple years between the siblings. Growing up in a world surrounded by adults until they themselves were well into their teens, they were practically a package deal until they had both moved into their own apartments a few years ago.

As of late, while Talia was diving head first into Valentine, Brandon was knee deep in The Vault, the gym he had started not long before Talia opened her own business.

Sitting in her car, Talia contemplated calling him for a moment, her finger hovering over the call button as she thought.

With both of them being so busy, they had barely had time to catch up over the last couple months, and after the day she had had today, Talia needed a bit of chill time with the only other person in the world who could understand her situation.

Their father always joked they could communicate telepathically, and after not seeing him for so long, Talia missed speaking her native tongue.

Deciding to make her way over to the gym, Brandon always telling her he was there any Friday night she would try to make plans with him lately, Talia constructed a plan for what she would do once she finally had convinced her brother to stop throwing himself into his work every Friday night.

With The Vault situated downtown, it was a bit of a drive in Los Angeles traffic, but with the thought of the Thai food just up the street from the gym in her mind, Talia couldn't find it in herself to care about the lengthy journey.

The radio softly played one of the many playlists made on Talia's phone as she drove along, windows down and the breeze lightly whipping her hair around as she did her best to relax while she had the chance.

While most people were finishing their work week, Talia, being the head photographer at Valentine, was still one day away from her own weekend, working every Saturday since the studio opened. This made it easier for families to get together for their shoots, not having to worry about getting back to work and getting the kids back to school, and Talia could tell her clients appreciated it, which made the extra day of work worth it to her.

Propping her head up, with her left elbow resting on the top of the door, Talia can't help the frown that flashes onto her face as she approaches the gym.

Expecting to see only Brandon's car and maybe another employee's, the full parking lot beside the building confuses her. How many people would be at a gym after hours?

The confused frown on Talia's face lingers as she parks her car next one she definitely recognised as Brandon's, climbing out and locking it before pocketing her keys and approaching a man who looked slightly familiar, noticing he was one of Brandon's employees as she got closer.

"Johnny," Talia smiles politely, the man turning to her with wide eyes as he recognizes her, "what's happening here?" She asks.

Johnny stutters for a moment, looking around like he rather be anywhere else in the world at this exact moment.

"Oh, here? Just some regulars here for a get together. Your brother left a few hours back though." He says quickly, tripping over his words slightly, almost like he was making a story up as he went along.

Suspicion courses through Talia at the deflective words of the man much taller than she is, and if she didn't already know him, she probably would have been intimidated by his size alone.

"I just parked next to his car though, and it's kinda odd for Brandon to leave the gym open." Talia laughs awkwardly, not trusting of the excuse she was being given when she knew her brother better than to leave not only his business open, but also his car unlocked outside it.

"I think I'll just check things out for myself thanks Johnny." Talia states, before taking a step forward towards the entrance.

Sensing her disbelief, and his face turning to one of panic, Johnny takes a step sideways, blocking the door from Talia's path.

"Brandon said that you were banned from Friday nights. I'm sorry Talia." He finally says, and Talia can't help the look of surprise that covers her face.

"Me? Banned from the Vault? I hardly think so mate." She laughs, taking advantage of the height difference between them to duck under Johnny's arm, easily pushing the door open into the gym.

Immediately, Talia is met with a wall of noise.

A crowd, some seated, some not, surround the central boxing ring at the center of the building. The usual smell of cleaning supplies and sweat is amplified by the stench of beer radiating through the whole building, but even then, the thing that grabs Talia's attention isn't the crowd or their behavior, but instead, what they're watching.

In the center of the ring, two large, well built men circle each other. Talia watches on in horror for only a moment before one man launches his fist forward towards the others stomach, and it's in this moment she realizes that the men aren't wearing gloves, but thin bloodied wraps.

The crowd roar with a wave of life as the punch connects, the second man doubling over and leaving himself exposed to an onslaught the first delivers without hesitation.

Even with the presence of Johnny behind her, the only thing Talia can see is the pure violence playing out in front of her, realization growing by the second as her eyes finally break away from the ring to where her brother stands at the back of the crowd.

She can't help but think her father might have been right about the telepathy, because almost as if he could sense her eyes on him, Brandon's own find her.

All of the colour drains from Brandon's face as he excuses himself from the black haired man he's talking to, running around the outside of the crowd to reach his sister, who stands frozen in place.

He says nothing as he grabs Talia's hand, pulling her sideways into the office room to the right of the building, easily tugging her past the back of the crowd that still stare focused into the ring.

The clinical white lights above them come to life as Brandon flicks the switch beside the door, shutting it behind him quickly before he turns back to Talia.

"What are you doing here?" He asks quickly, inspecting her as if she was a wounded animal ready to pounce.

Fighting her disbelief at the situation and his question, Talia's eyes go wide as a wave of anger washes over her at his question.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck is that shit, Brandon?!" She throws back at him, her voice louder and stronger than she expected it to come out of her.

Waving his hands panicked, trying to get her to lower her voice, Brandon tries to shush her, which only makes her more ticked off.

"Look you weren't supposed to see that-"

"Answer my fucking question or I'll start screamin' it." She threatens, cutting him off mid sentence.

An angry and frustrated expression settles on his face as Brandon let's out a huff, not knowing how to word his explanation and remaining silent while he tries to find the right words.

"Is this why you've been blowing me off for months? You got some fucking fight club bullshit going on here instead?" She questions further, her voice breaking slightly with stress.

"I can't tell you all the fucking details in one breath, Talia. I wasn't exactly expecting you to find out like this."

Brandon argues, throwing his hand up in annoyance, which only confuses her more.

"What makes you think you have the right to be angry at me when you're the one that has the explaining to do?"

"Fuck! Alright! I get it!" He whisper yells harshly, face twisting in anger and making the siblings look even more alike than usual, Talia taking a step back at his sudden outburst, "look, the money is gonna get cut off one day, I'm thinking about my future, OUR futures here. That's what this shit is about."

"And what exactly is this shit, Brandon?" Talia asks, aggressively pointing towards the door that barely separated them from the crowd.

"It's boxing. Same shit you see on TV, just, not as commercial."

"This isn't the same shit as on TV! Those guys aren't even wearing gloves!" She argues, smacking the back of her hand as she speaks.

"Bare knuckle and wraps get better bets, the guys make their own decisions on if they do it or not." Brandon defends as he crosses his arms.

Talia shakes her head in annoyance, her face twisting. Everything was happening so quickly, meaning she barely had enough time to process all the information being thrown at her.

"You're scared of mommy cutting off the royalties so this is what you do instead?" She asks.

"The money is gonna get cut off and it's gonna be sooner rather than later. Do you expect me to suck up forever? To hide Sam til she dies too? Mom hates both of us now and you know it just as well as I do."

Talia feels her throat tighten at his words. Her stomach felt like it was close to emptying its content as the gut punch of his words hit her at a hundred miles per hour.

"Shut the fuck up. You know I love Sam and you know I don't want to do it just as much as you don't want to. But you're right, it will be sooner if she finds out about this." She spits back.

Taking a step towards him, arms crossed, Talia holds steady eye contact as she looks up to her brother.

"You're not the only one she can fuck over. When she finds out and cuts me off too, what the fuck are we gonna do, huh?" She whispers harshly as the crowd outside the room bursts into life again, the next round starting.

Brandon breaks the eye contact between them as he stares at the ground, fists clenched at his sides as the obvious stress of the situation flashes across his face.

"She won't, not yet."

Talia rolls her eyes as her arms uncross, leaning back against his desk.

"Mom always finds out."

"She won't this ti-"

Brandon is interrupted by the office door swinging open, a tall man with blonde hair and a panicked look on his face ignoring Talia to address Brandon the second his eyes land on him.

"Hood's broken Knight's nose." He says in a rush, causing Brandon to groan, following the man out the door before turning back to Talia.

"Don't leave this office, I'll be back soon."

Talia throws her brother a sarcastic thumbs up before he rushes off, the door clicking shut behind him.

Talia felt like her mind was in the worst spin she'd ever experienced. Finally the late nights, the astronomical bills being excused as gym costs, the secrets, they all made sense.

As angry as she was with her brother, she was more worried about him than anything.

Seeing the crowd, the action in the ring, it was more than just the sparring she would see from time to time as she made the rounds to check in on things. These people were out for blood, and would throw as much money as they needed at it to make it happen. This wasn't the kind of thing she ever expected Brandon to be involved in, and it shocked her that he's involved in that world obviously as more than just a spectator.

Sitting down in the office chair, Talia rests her elbows on the desk in front of her, covering her face with her hands as she tries to take a deep breath to calm her nerves, but jumping as the crowd outside roars again.

This wasn't something she was familiar with, and the uncharted territory this laid out in front of her felt like a minefield. Both her brother's lies, and the violence they were hiding.

With her anxiety peaking as she sits deep in her thoughts, she nearly yelps as the office door flies open, a tall man coming in and looking around for someone, before their eyes finally land on Talia.

If the sharp jawline, dark eyes and deadly look on his face didn't take her breath away, the ripped and bruised skin under his eye sure did.

A seemingly permanent scowl was set on the man's face, and his height and all black outfit just added to the intimidating stance he has as he lets the door swing shut behind him.

Talia couldn't help but notice that the man is attractive, even with blood dripping down his face, noticing his hair closely cropped to his head, apart from the wild bleached curls that fell onto his forehead.

For a brief moment, the angry look on the man's face softens upon seeing the smaller woman sitting behind his boss's desk, but it's instantly replaced by a look of confusion.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asks, his voice deeper than she expected with an unfamiliar accent laced into his words.

Slightly taken back, Talia frowns, withdrawing from the desk and standing up behind it, her defensive nature quickly taking over.

"I'm Talia Alisley, who the fuck are you?"

This time it's the man that's taken back, his eyebrows shooting up as he scoffs, arrogance in spades and tension building by the second as Talia crosses her arms in front of herself.

"I'm Calum Hood," He says, and Talia freezes.

Hood. Was he the Hood that the blonde man was talking about? The one who apparently had broken the nose of the guy Brandon was checking on?

"and I'm guessing you're the precious little sister." He comments, and this time it's Talia that raises her eyebrow. Did Brandon mention her to these guys?

"Too right I am, so don't fuck with me and we should be fine. Brandon said he'd be back soon." She replies, sitting back down with her arms still crossed and the scowl on her face settling in while in his presence.

Deep down, Talia knew it was probably a bad idea to piss off the guy who was not only bleeding, but the cause of a broke nose two rooms over, but her pride and defensive nature was far more powerful than the anxiety swirling in her stomach.

"No need to worry about that, princess." Calum rolls his eyes in annoyance. If Brandon was gonna send him to his office, he could at least show up instead of wasting his time, and give him a warning.

Talia was thankful in that moment for the low light of the room on account of the desk lamp being off, hiding the blush that made her ears burn. Yeah, he might be a dickhead, but he was still an attractive dickhead.

Slumping down into the chair opposite Talia with a huff, Calum shakes his head, while Talia stays stone faced across from him.

"You alright?" She asks after a moment, referring to where blood still sits on his cheekbone.

Calum frowns at her attitude change, not aware of the injury that he sustained from Knight's ringed hand landing a right hook before Calum landed his own.

In his defense, Knight should have known better than to touch his gear.

With the confused look flashing across his face for a longer period this time, Talia can't help but roll her eyes.

"You're bleeding under your eye, bro." She points out.

As Calum reaches up to touch his cheek, the door opens, the blonde man from before walking in with Brandon in toe as Talia thanks her lucky stars.

"Not gonna lie I thought you would have left by now." Brandon says, looking at Talia first while her eyes stay on the actions of the blonde man opening a medical kit on the desk.

"Oh don't worry, I want to." She comments.

"So do I, can I go now?" Calum directs towards Brandon as the blonde man touches an alcohol wipe to his cheek, making his aggressive expression falter slightly.

"Once Luke says you're okay and once I've dealt with you, yes." He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Look," Talia says, standing up and holding her hands up in surrender, "obviously you've got a lot of shit going on here right now so we'll deal with this tomorrow." She gestures between them, walking around the desk and past the three men.

Letting out a sigh, Brandon sends her a look of appreciation.

"Thanks T, text me when you get home." He replies, to which she sends him a short nod.

"Luke, can you walk her out?" He asks, turning to the man getting up from kneeling in front of Calum.

"Yeah, no worries." He smiles, taking his gloves off and throwing them in the bin.

Walking out the door with Luke, Talia winces at the loudness of the crowd, thankful for the taller, now calm, man standing between them and herself.

"I'm Luke, by the way." He smiles kindly, holding his hand out for Talia to shake as they make it to the door.

"Talia. Gotta be honest, I wish this was under better circumstances." She smiles tightly back at him, shaking his hand.

"Yeah," he laughs, "me too."

As they make it outside, Talia leads Luke around the building to where her car sits, right next to Brandon's.

"Well, this is me."  She says, signalling to her car with the keys in her hand. "Thanks for walking me past all of that."

"No problem. Drive safe." Luke says with a small wave to her, and she gives him an appreciative smile.

"You too. See you 'round, Luke."

Climbing into her car, Talia sighs, relaxing only slightly in the familiar surroundings.

As she pulls away from the curb, Luke sends her a final wave before walking back into the gym.

Driving away, the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off, and the reality of the situation starts to sink in.

"God, I'm gonna fucking kill him." Talia mutters to herself, turning the radio up and going over the night's events in her head as she drives back to her apartment.

The next morning, Talia awakes with a rock of dread weighing down her stomach.

Her mind immediately flashes back to the events of the night before, and as she showers, gets dressed and locks her apartment door, it almost felt like she wore the dread of the impending conversation she needed to have with her brother as a scarf tied too tightly around her neck.

Instead of heading straight to the studio and editing the photos of the last few days as usual, Talia instead took a deep breath as she started heading back towards Vault, having a couple hours to hopefully get answers before her first clients for the day were set to arrive at eleven.

The parking lot beside Vault sat a lot emptier today. Only a handful of cars sprinkled around, and just like last night, Talia pulls into the space beside Brandon's car.

Taking a moment before walking in, Talia leans back in her seat, closing her eyes.

She was scared. Of Brandon's explanation, of possibly having to accept whatever the fuck she had witnessed last night, of walking out more confused than she was about to walk in.

Her and Brandon had grown up play fighting, and catching an odd round or two when their dad decided to watch Friday Fight Night, but violence had never really been part of their lives in a physical form. Apart from a questionable wrestling phase when she was 14, Talia couldn't even remember the last time she saw two people in a ring together that wasn't casual sparring when she would frequent the gym in its early days.

None of it compared to what she saw last night.

With what happened still fresh in her mind, Talia climbs out of her car, pushing the door shut behind her.

Johnny doesn't stand by the entrance this morning, meaning Talia easily walks into the gym, the door squeaking slightly in protest as she pushes it open.

It's almost like nothing had even happened. All the equipment that was pushed against a wall last night now sits in its normal place, the shelves of alcohol behind the check in desk now stocked with protein powders like less than twelve hours ago the counter wasn't a very convincing bar.

Hearing her come in the door, a couple people look up from what they're doing, sending Talia a polite smile before returning to their work.

Calum Hood is not one of these people.

Almost like the universe had put a glowing neon sign over his head, Talia's eyes instantly wander towards where Calum stands next to the black haired man she recognized as the same person Brandon was talking to last night when she arrived.

Noticing her too, Calum’s encouragement of his best friend is interrupted by his eyes catching a flash of blue hair in his peripheral vision.

While he knew any animosity towards the woman who could probably have him fired with a few fake tears was a bad idea to hold onto, he couldn't help but feel annoyed upon seeing her in what he thought of as his domain.

Face settling into a frown as she looks across the room to the man who easily got on her nerves last night, Talia almost doesn't notice Brandon coming up behind her.

"Hey." He greets quietly, holding a takeaway cup of coffee out to his sister. "Time for that talk, huh?"

"Yeah. Think so." She takes the coffee with a nod of thanks, and hesitantly follows him to his office.

Talia couldn't tell if Brandon was trying to suck up to her with free coffee, but after sitting down at the chair in front of his desk and taking a sip, tasting vanilla latte, she knows he is.

"So, where should we start?" He asks, settling into his seat with a heavy sigh.

Talia scoffs lightly, raising her eyebrow.

"The beginning would be good."

Brandon nods, looking down at his desk to avoid meeting her eyes.

"The fights started around one, maybe two months after we opened, so we've been hosting them for about fourteen months now."

Talia's eyes go wide, disbelief covering her face as she places her cup on his desk forcefully.

"You're telling me you've been hiding this shit for over a year?" She asks, anger already starting to build.

"Yeah, and if you haven't fucking noticed, it's not been the easiest thing to do." He snaps, before holding his hands up, taking a deep breath and rolling his seat back slightly to calm himself, too much tension already in the air.

Talia bites her tongue, looking down at her hands before she signals to him to continue.

"A friend of mine, Ashton, he was part of an illegal boxing league running out of a rundown place up in Hollywood. I saw him fight there a couple times, saw the conditions myself. The guy running the show was a complete asshole to his guys, but they all needed the money, so they stuck around." He explains, voice quieter than before.

"One night we got to talking. I asked Ash if  he thought we might be able to make our own ring, give people a safer place to earn their money. Then we figured out how much we could earn from it, and with shit going so wrong with mom, I figured that if she pulled the rug out from under me, I could use the league as a safety net."

Piecing together the timeline in her head, and doing the best to absorb the information given to her, Talia remains silent and slowly nods along when needed.

"Him and I have built this thing from the ground up, and it's working for us. I manage the books, he manages the guys, and we take care of the admin together. With my connections to the rich assholes who have more money than they know what to do with, and with Ashton's connection to the guys who need that money and want to do it, we're doing really, really well, Talia."

This time it's Talia who avoids eye contact, looking down to her shoes as she curses the logical side of her brain for seeing sense in his story.

"How many people do you have fighting for you?" She asks.

Brandon let's out a heavy breath, waving his hand slightly.

"Around twenty, twenty five. We keep the doors open for the more occasional guy who needs the cash that week."

"And how often are the nights like last night happening?"

"Weekly. Every Friday, normally."

Seeing the hesitation on her face, bottom lip pulled between her teeth, Brandon sits forward to bring her attention to him, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

"I know this is a lot, and I don't expect you to be okay with it, but I do want you to know I'm being smart about this."

Talia sighs, taking a sip of her drink before speaking.

"I know you, so I don't doubt it. It's just so dangerous, Brandon. You can't expect me not to be worried about you."

Brandon laughs lightly, trying to lift the mood slightly.

"I would never expect you not to worry. It's not in your nature."

A small smile tugs at the corners of Talia's lips, and it's enough to ease his mind.

"Anything you want to know about the ring, the business, any of it, I'll answer as best as I can. I trust you more than anyone and I want to do everything I can to make you feel okay with this, and make up for holding it from you."

Talia hazards a look to her brother, seeing on his face that he's been open and honest with her.

"You know I always ask too many questions." She smiles, joking lightly as she referenced something she would hear almost daily from her mother growing up.

Brandon shakes his head as he laughs, taking a sip of his own drink.

"If you get too much for me, I'll just pass you on to Ashton. It's what normally happens around here." He shrugs slightly, before tilting his head.

"Actually, do you want to meet him? He should be around out there." He asks, and Talia mulls the idea over for a moment before agreeing. After all, it would probably be best to know who she would castrate if something happened to Brandon.

"Sure, might as well." She agrees, downing the last of her drink and tossing her cup into the small recycling bin under his desk.

Standing up and following Brandon out of his office, Talia can feel her nerves already starting to act up, and does her best to shove them down as she follows him towards the bench press where the black haired man who she now assumed was Ashton, and Calum stood.

"Hey, guys. I got someone for you to meet." Brandon says, catching their attention as they approach.

Ashton sends her a warm smile as she steps out from behind Brandon, which is a nice contrast from the cold glare Calum sends her way, which she ignores to return the smile instead.

"Ashton, Calum, this is my sister, Talia. Talia, this is the demon on my shoulder Ash, and my blue rock em sock em man Calum."

"We've met." Calum says bluntly, while Ashton raises his eyebrow.

"And we haven't. Nice to meet you, I assure you Brandon's told us nothing but good things." Ashton grins, holding his hand out for her to shake.

Talia takes his hand and can't help but notice how strong his grip is without what looks like any effort, and laughs lightly.

"I'd hope so, but I can't promise my staff have heard the same about him. It's nice to meet you too." She returns, letting her hand drop to her side before she acknowledges the man beside him.

"And yeah, charmed." Talia prods lightly, seeing Calum trying to hide the roll of his eyes from Brandon.

"Talia is gonna be spending more time around, getting to know the workings when she can. I said if she annoys me too much I'm gonna pass her on to you, so fair warning." Brandon informs them, tapping Ashton's arm as he directs his sentence to him.

"Fantastic." Talia hears Calum mutter, not loud enough for the other two to hear it, but just enough that she does.

This time, it's Talia that rolls her eyes at Calum.

As conversation is made, Calum can't help but feel hyper aware of Talia, and the sun shining in from the high windows casting sunbeams through the few red hairs that fell out of her bun and framed her face delicately. He would admit that Talia was pretty, beautiful even, but not audibly, especially not in front of the girl who felt no hesitation in sending him a death glare every few minutes.

The small group spend ten or so minutes talking with each other before Talia's phone rings, letting her know she should start making her way to the studio.

"Looks like I should be getting to work." Talia says, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Ashton inquiries, genuine interest in his tone, making her see why Brandon was such a fan of him.

Talia believed she could read people well, and from her first impression of Ashton, she got nothing but good vibes.

"I'm a photographer, I own my own studio called Valentine." She smiles proudly, and Ashton nods his head in approval.

"My girlfriend works just down the road from you I think! It's not far from Dominion Books, right?"

Pleasant surprise spreads across Talia's face as she nods, happy to have found a common link.

"Yeah! I think I might have seen you there in passing now I think about it." She smiles.

Brandon watches on with joy as he sees both Talia and Ashton getting along, so happy about it in fact that he didn't even notice Calum looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

Talia says her goodbyes to the men before turning to leave, her attention being called back before she makes it too far.

"If you ever need a fill in hunk for a photo shoot, you know who to call." Ashton jokes, sending a wink in her direction.

"Yeah, you can get your brother to pass you my number any time." Calum says sarcastically, surprising her but also making her scoff as she takes a few steps backwards before turning around.

"In your dreams, darlin'." She calls over her shoulder.

As the door swings shut behind her, Calum feels like his feet are glued to the floor, the eyes of his best friend burning into him as Brandon excuses himself to mock throw up against the wall.

"What's that all about between you two?" Ashton asks Calum quietly, picking up his water bottle as Calum picks up his own, holding it up and speaking casually before taking a sip.

"No idea what you're talking about mate."

TAGLIST |  @spicycal​​ @calmlftv​​ @irwinkitten​​  @mrandleer​​ @candidcal​​  @lukeskisses​​  @wallflowercal​​  @brooklynsninenine​​ ​ @whereveryouares​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​

[hopeworldfan]

friends-with-benefits

summary: jungkook had a reputation and you were curious if he lived up to it.

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 10k+

genre: fluff, smut, angst, college!au

warning: smut, deepthroating, cunnilingus, dirty talk, jungkook is a dumbass, reader is a dumbass, i don’t understand body shots

Parties were never really your thing. They were loud, full of sweaty people, and almost everyone was drunk as fuck. The fact that you weren’t popular enough to get invited to any in high school had nothing to do with it. When college rolled around you didn’t have any plans to fall into the partying stereotype. You were going to keep your head down and focus on your studies, and you were never good at making friends so you doubted you would be getting invited to any wild parties anyway.

What you weren’t expecting to happen was for the girl who responded to your post on the university website about needing a roommate to end up being the exact opposite of what you were. Rose was amazing, everything every little girl dreamed of being; smart, funny, drop-dead gorgeous, and on the fast track to being the captain of the cheer squad her senior year. Typical stereotypes would peg her as being a stone-cold bitch, but she was honestly one of the nicest people you had ever fucking met. The two of you had very complementary personalities and it didn’t take long for the two of you to become best friends.

As Rose’s best friend, you were invited to parties by association, and she always made sure you went. At first, you were hesitant. You didn’t want to go and end up standing in a corner with a cup of warm beer you weren’t going to drink, but Rose always made sure you had a fantastic time. She introduced you to all of her friends and they all thought you were adorable and funny as fuck, so you fell in with the –quote, unquote- cool kids. 

It was so new, a complete one-eighty to what high school had been like for you. People knew who you were, they went out of their way to talk to you. For the first time, you didn’t dread group projects because no matter what class you were in, you had people who wanted to be in a group with you. Your confidence had literally never been higher. 

Yet, you were still single. Yeah, you were funny, and so many people loved you, but it was Rose that everyone wanted. Not that you blamed them because she was hands down the hottest person you had ever seen. You thought people like Rose only existed in magazines. Besides, you liked being single anyway. There was no drama, no heartbreak, you liked it that way.

“C’mon (y/n), let’s do body shots!” Rose suddenly shouted, and a cheer went up around the frat house you were currently in.  

“Fuck yes!” You shouted back with a giant grin, letting your best friend drag you along. You’d never had much shame, to begin with, plus you had enough alcohol running through your veins to throw all caution to the wind.

The table was quickly cleared when you arrived, and Rose was the first to jump on. She had a long line of willing volunteers to no one’s surprise. One boy made his way to the front and you grinned when you saw who it was.

“Joonie!” She cheered. Namjoon was the frat leader and Rose’s not boyfriend slash boyfriend. She claimed they weren’t dating, that she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, but you saw the way they looked at each other, and you heard their kinky ass sex through the paper-thin walls of your shared apartment.

“Heard you were doing body shots, so I had to be the first in line.” He grinned and flashed a smile your way before turning his attention back to Rose. You really liked Namjoon, he was probably the sweetest guy you had ever met. He wasn’t at all what you expected of a frat leader. Whenever he was at your apartment, he’d make conversation with you, he’d approach you if he saw you on campus, and often times he’d invite you out when him and Rose were doing something. Plus he was probably one of the smartest people you had ever met and you would not have passed statistics without his help.

Almost too soon Namjoon was done with Rose and it was your turn to hop up on the table. Though you weren’t as popular as your friend, college boys weren’t picky, so you weren’t worried about no one lining up for you. However, you couldn’t mask your surprise when you looked up and saw Jeon Jungkook standing in front of you, his signature confident smirk on his face.

You knew who Jungkook was, you’d have to be stupid not to. Everyone knew who Jungkook was; a member of Namjoon’s frat, arguably one of the hottest guys on campus, and a complete fuckboy. A few of Rose’s friends loved to talk about how great he was in bed; you’d heard all the details surrounding the hookups. You had to admit, you were curious, and it had been so long since you’d been fucked, and he was standing in front of you looking like sex on a stick.

You’re not sure where the sudden confidence came from, either from the alcohol running through your veins or from the smirk on Jungkook’s face but you grabbed one of the nearby shot glasses and poured the tequila, stuck your fingers in the glass and make a streak down the side of your neck, sprinkled the salt, and nestled the shot glass right between your cleavage.

Someone handed you the slice of lime and you didn’t hesitate before putting it in your mouth, meeting Jungkook’s heated gaze and raising one of your eyebrows while the crowd around cheered and whistled. He stalked towards you, gripping your thighs and forcing them apart so he could slide in between your legs. The noise from the onlooking crowd only increased and you couldn’t help the blush that crept along your cheeks.

Jungkook didn’t say a word, just keeping that confident smirk on his face as he leaned down towards your neck. Your heartbeat increased and it took everything in you to silence the moan that wanted to slip out when you felt his tongue slowly lick up the side of your neck, going far past where the salt started and ended. He pulled back and dropped his head to your cleavage, grabbing the shot glass was with his mouth and tossing his head back. You watched in awe, admiring just how fucking hot he was.

He slammed the shot glass down next to you and his intense gaze caused a bolt of excitement to run through you. His hands crept further up your thighs and his face inched closer and closer to yours and your breath hitched when he finally grabbed the lime from your mouth. Your lips brushed against his and disappointment coursed through you when he pulled back, sucking the juice from the lime before tossing it.

You were just about to jump down from the table when Jungkook slid back between your legs. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The words were out of your mouth before you even had time to consider if it was a good idea or not. They didn’t call alcohol ‘liquid courage’ for nothing. “To your bedroom ideally.”

For the first time since your encounter began, the confident smirk slipped from his face and embarrassment flooded through you. He was looking at you with wide eyes, obvious surprised by your suggestion. It was a horrible idea; he probably had a dozen girls much prettier than you lined up to sleep with him. Of course, he wouldn’t choose you.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” He finally said with a cheeky smile, nothing like his confident smirk from earlier. Before you could formulate a response, he hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you from the table. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and tightened your legs around his waist to keep yourself from hitting the floor.

The shouts and cheers from the crowd were deafening as he began carrying you to what you assumed was his room.  

“I’m perfectly capable of walking.” You protested somewhat weakly because holy shit you could feel his muscles rippling underneath the thin cotton of his shirt and that was hot at fuck.  

He chuckled in response. “You won’t be tomorrow; I’m just getting you used to it.”

A bolt of arousal shot through you at his promise. You never would have imagined this was where your night was going to go, but you were happily along for what was looking to be an exciting ride.

Jungkook shouldered open the door and effortlessly locked it before taking the last couple steps to his bed and putting you down with a gentleness you weren’t expecting. Your eyes had just started to wander around his room when his lips were suddenly against yours and all hope of rational thought was out of the window because his lips were so much softer than you expected and felt so good against yours.

His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, wordlessly asking permission and you all too happily gave it to him. You moaned into his mouth when he deepened the kiss and he pulled back with an airy chuckle.

“That’s a sound I can’t wait to hear more of.” You couldn’t fight the blush that spread across your cheeks and his lips were back on yours in the next instant. His hands tugged at the hem of your shirt and you broke away from each other, only for a moment so he could pull the fabric over your head and carelessly toss it. There wasn’t time to feel self-conscious before his lips were trailing down your jaw, moving down to your neck, leaving hot kisses in his wake. He stopped at the base of your neck to pay a little extra attention and you mewled when he found a sweet spot. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.”

You were practically preening at the complimented. It did wonders for your self-confidence to have a guy as hot as Jungkook think you were attractive.

“Are you going to spend all night kissing my neck or are you going to fuck me?” You asked because while the kisses were nice, you were so fucking horny and just wanted the godlike boy to fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk the next day like he promised. While you appreciated the foreplay, you were already soaked.

Jungkook growled which only fueled your arousal. “Someone’s eager.”

“Just wanna see if the great Jeon Jungkook lives up to the hype.” He paused for a second before throwing his head back and laughing.

“You really are something else (y/n),” He commented before reaching behind your back and deafly unhooking your bra with one hand. That shouldn’t have been as hot as you found it. “And don’t worry, I do.”

He stood up to finally dispose of his clothes and you shamelessly stared. You’d seen him shirtless before but had never wanted to ogle. Now, you had every excuse to ogle and you were taking the opportunity and running with it because holy fuck. It should have been illegal to look that fucking good. He caught you staring and confidently smirked. “See something you like?”

“I guess you could say that.” You replied immediately with a shrug of your shoulders, slipping your bra off and tossing it to the side before doing the same with your shorts and panties. You were thanking every god in existence you had taken the time to shave last night.

“Good, because so do I,” Jungkook said darkly, eyes drinking in your naked form. What you didn’t know was that he’d had his eyes on you for a while now. You were always at the same parties, hung around the same people, and he couldn’t help being drawn to your presence. There was just something about you, something about the way you always had a smile on your face, the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed, just, the way you were you. He’d wanted to get to know you, but you were Rose’s friend and he had a less than savory reputation, which meant Namjoon had explicitly warned him not to fuck with you when he had been caught staring one time.  

Jungkook respected his leader, and he knew you were too good for someone like him anyway, but then you showed up at the party looking hot as fuck and when he heard you were doing body shots…well, he physically could not stop himself. He wasn’t expecting you to be so confident, you had always seemed a little on the shy side and maybe it was only because you had alcohol running through your veins, but fuck, it only made him want you more. However, he still wasn’t planning on doing anything else other than maybe ask for your number, but then you were the one to suggest heading to his room and all of his self-control was out of the window.

Besides, this wasn’t going to be like with all the other girls he brought to his room. That was all just fun and games, him living up the college experience. It was different with you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck you, but it went beyond that. He wanted to get to know you, to hang out with your clothes still on, and sure things were backward as fuck now, but he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to sleep with you. He wasn’t an idiot.

“Fuck.” You breathed when Jungkook stepped out of his boxers and you finally saw his cock. It was big, of course, it was. Unease settled in the pit of your stomach, coupled with excitement which just left you feeling confused.

“You think you could take my cock, baby?” He grinned, wrapping one hand around his length and giving it a few pumps. You shivered when he moaned. Could you take it? You had no idea. Were you going to give it your fucking all though? Hell yes.

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” You said, a bit nervously when he joined you on the bed, having already slipped a condom on. He spread your legs wide, positioning himself right at your entrance. Unease and excitement shot through you again.

Should you tell him?

Did it make a difference?

Would this really be that different from all your other times?

Uh-” You started nervously and Jungkook immediately paused, meeting your eyes with a confused look. “I feel like I need to disclose something first.”

“Are you a virgin?” He asked immediately, eyes wide and you chuckled.

“Not technically?” You supplied with a sheepish smile, suddenly feeling the most embarrassed you had the entire night. Jungkook just raised an eyebrow at you and you sighed. “Um, well, I’ve never actually had sex with a guy before.”

“So, you’re a virgin.” He said simply and you shook your head.

“I mean, honestly, the whole concept of a ‘virgin’ is a scam in the first place because what really constitutes what a ‘virgin’ is in the first place?” You were rambling, you knew you were rambling. His cock was literally inches away from your pussy and you were rambling. That sounded about right, you needed to get to your point. “I’ve had sex with girls before, I’ve been fucked with strap on’s before, but never uhh the real thing, and you’re bigger than any of the straps I’ve been fucked with.”

You watched as Jungkook fully comprehended what you just said. The blank look on his face morphing from shock to curiosity, to surprise, before finally settling on a darker look that fed your arousal.

“I really didn’t think you could get any fucking hotter, but you proved me wrong.” Because the image of you being fucked by another girl with a strap on was just about the hottest thing Jungkook could have ever imagined.

“So yeah, uh, no pressure or anything but you’re representing the entire male population here.” You commented and Jungkook laughed before sliding his hands up your thighs. Goosebumps spread across your skin and your breath hitched when you grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head against your slick entrance.  

“I think I can handle that.” He smirked before his expression morphed into something softer. “Just let me know if you’re ever uncomfortable and I’ll stop.”

You nodded once and tried your best to relax when he started to slowly push into you.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He hissed as your walls expanded to accommodate his size. You fisted the sheets and instinctively arched your back at the intrusion. It wasn’t painful, just mildly uncomfortable, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

You hadn’t even realized you closed your eyes until you felt a gentle kiss on your forehead and your eyes shot open. You hadn’t even realized Jungkook had shifted to where he was hovering only a few inches away from you. The concern on his face made your heart flutter. You were expecting a quick fuck, not for him to actually care.

“Are you okay?” He murmured and your heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t the fuckboy shit you signed up for.

“Yeah,” You replied immediately. “You’re just…really big.”

He dropped his head to where it was resting in the crook of your neck and you felt his whole-body shudder. “Fuck.”

You knew he was probably using every ounce of self-control to restrain himself. He continued slowly sheathing himself inside of you, careful not to make any sudden movements. His breath was hot against the base of your neck and you shivered when he moaned, finally bottoming out.

He was without a doubt, bigger than any of the straps you had been fucked with. You didn’t think you had ever had anyone reach of deep as he was. He rolled his hips the slightest bit and your right hand shot up to grip his bicep. The bitch felt rock solid and you didn’t think you could get any more turned on but holy fuck.

“Shit I’m sorry, did that hurt?” He asked immediately, raising his head to meet your eyes. A blush coated your cheeks.

“Quite the contrary, just fuck me already Jungkook.” You purred, stomach twisting in excitement when you saw how dark his eyes got.

“You got it baby girl.” You gasped when you completely pulled out of you and the sound became strangled when he roughly thrust back in. “Fuck (y/n), you feel so fucking good.”

You physically could not form words when he began harshly thrusting into you. The only thing you could do was throw your arms around his toned shoulders and hold on for dear fucking life. He hissed as your nails dug into his skin, scratching down the wide expanse of his back.  

“Do you like that? Do you like the way I’m fucking you?” He breathed, his breath hot against your ear. You should have known he would be into dirty talk, good thing that so were you.

“Fuck yes, oh god, I love the way your big cock feels in my pussy, the first real cock I’ve ever had.” You panted, shivering at the way Jungkook was moaning in your ear. There had never been a more erotic sound.

“You’re so filthy (y/n), what a dirty girl.” You mewled as his thrusts became shorter and more intense.

“Oh fuck.” You wouldn’t last much longer, you were surprised you had lasted as long as you did considering how long it had been since you’d been fucked so good. Jungkook was certainly living up to his reputation.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? You going to cum all over my thick cock?” He groaned, feeling your walls tightening around him. Getting you to your peak before he let himself cum was so much harder than he thought it would be. You just felt so fucking good, and that coupled with the sounds you were making made it exceedingly difficult.  

“I’m going to cum oh my god, oh fuck Jungkook.” You babbled, on the verge of nonsensical. In the back of your mind, you were baffled that you were about to cum strictly from vaginal stimulation, that had never happened before. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip to keep from crying out when your orgasm hit you, trying to remember that you were in a frat house and there were rooms on either side of you.

“Oh fuck (y/n).” Jungkook groaned when your walls clamped down on his cock. He only managed a few more pumps before burying himself in you and letting his own orgasm wash over him. The two of you lay there for a few minutes, a thin layer of sweat coating your naked bodies as you tried to catch your breath.

“Well, you’ve definitely done your brethren justice.” You finally said with a playful grin, needing to say something lest you feel awkward as fuck. Jungkook lifted his head from where it was resting in the crook of your neck and laughed, a sound that caused butterflies to stir in your belly. He was so cute when he laughed.

“I’m glad.” He smiled before bringing his face down to yours and placing a gentle kiss against your lips. It took you by surprise. It was soft and tender and not something you expected from the infamous fuckboy. Maybe he had a soft side post orgasm. Whatever, you weren’t complaining.  

With a content sigh, Jungkook pulled back from you and rolled to his side, getting up and disposing of the condom. You admired the way the muscles on his back flexed with every movement he made. Damn, you really fucked that greek god of a man. Go you.

Despite your fatigue, you knew that typical one-night stand rules meant you didn’t spend the night, so you swung your legs over the side of the bed and tried to get to your feet. Tried being the keyword because your legs felt like fucking noodles and you immediately fell back onto the bed. Jungkook’s laugh rang through the room and a blush colored your cheeks.

“I did warn you.” He teased and you shot him a playful glare. “Where are you going off to anyway?”

You merely blinked at how owlishly. “Uhh, home?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “You can spend the night here, it’s super late and not safe in the slightest for you to head home now.”

Wow, he really was crushing all the fuckboy stereotypes you had about him. “Oh, okay. Well, I still have to get up so I can go to the bathroom.”

Jungkook nodded once before slipping on a pair of basketball shorts and grabbing a shirt and a pair of shorts from his dresser and tossing them at you. “Put that on and I’ll walk you the bathroom.”

You could have argued, but you really didn’t feel like squeezing back into your party clothes, so you just complied. The shirt fit loose around your body and you had to tie the shorts tight to keep them from falling. “You don’t have to walk me to the bathroom, I can make it myself.”

“One, you can barely stand up right now, and two, I’m not letting you wander out when there’s a bunch of drunk guys around.” Your heart did a little flip flop at his words and you just sighed because those were both excellent points. The second attempt at getting to your feet went better, though your legs trembled a bit with every step you took. Jungkook just had a very arrogant smirk on his face as he watched you walk like a newborn dear. That stroked his ego.

He wrapped one of his around your shoulders and led you to the bathroom. The music from downstairs was still going strong and you passed more than a few couples making out in the hallway. You were glad you didn’t see anyone you knew because it was pretty obvious what just happened by the marks littering your neck and the fact that a shirtless Jungkook had his arm around your shoulders.

He stood guard when you went into the bathroom to pee –because fuck UTI’s- and you grimaced when you got a good look at yourself in the mirror. That boy really showed no mercy to your neck. There was no way you could hide the plethora of hickeys. Everyone was going to know you got fucked. Oh well.

Jungkook grinned when you walked out and happily escorted you back to his room. You shimmied off his shorts and the two of you slid into his bed. It wasn’t how you had expected your night to end. You were going to have so much to tell Rose tomorrow.

“Why are you on the opposite side of the bed?” Jungkook laughed and you blushed again. Because you didn’t know what the fuck was going on anymore.

“Well, where am I supposed to be?” You asked a bit haughtily, turning to face him.

“In my arms?” He suggested, loving the way red colored your cheeks. His arms were opened wide and you shyly scooted closer to his side. He wrapped his arms around you, and you settled against his form. The arrangement was surprisingly comfortable. The fatigue from the day finally hit you and you felt yourself drifting off.

As if sensing you were about to fall asleep, Jungkook placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight beautiful.”

“G’night.” You mumbled before drifting off.

You slipped into consciousness slowly, confused about your unfamiliar surroundings before you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your form and you remembered the events from the night before. Sunlight was beginning to peak through the curtains, and you craned your neck to see Jungkook’s sleeping face.

He looked so fucking cute. That had to be illegal. There was no trace of the guy who gave you perhaps the best orgasm of your life. Your heart skipped a beat and you mentally berated yourself. Down girl, you couldn’t go catch feelings for THE Jeon Jungkook. The two of you had a fantastic night, you had to take it and go.

As carefully as you could, you extracted yourself from Jungkook’s hold, not an easy task since he was holding onto you for dear life. You tiptoed around the room, grabbing your things and checking your phone, seeing a few texts from Rose. Hopefully, she didn’t think you were murdered last night.

Luckily, it was about six in the morning so you hoped you wouldn’t run into any of the guys as you snuck out, even though you were sure they were used to girls sneaking out. You spared one last look at Jungkook, noticing the way how his face had scrunched up as he patted the now empty side of his bed. With a sigh, you opened the door and made sure to quietly close it before making your escape.

“(y/n)?”  

You squeaked before whipping around, clutching your belongings to your chest. “Fuck Namjoon, you scared me!”

“What are you doing here?” He asked and you watched as his eyes traced your form, taking in your too big attire, the marks on your neck, and then taking in the door of the room you had just came out of.

“Uhh.” Was all you could manage.

“He’s kicking you out this early? I’ll talk to him, don’t worry.” Namjoon said and you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“Wait, no no no,” You started with a nervous laugh. “He didn’t kick me out, I just figured I should leave before things get awkward. I would have left last night but he didn’t want me leaving so late so here we are.”

Namjoon was silent for a beat as he comprehended what you said before sighing. “If you say so. Look, Jungkook is a little brother to me, but I know how he is. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You were touched that Namjoon actually cared so much about you. Rose really needed to cuff that man. “I appreciate the concern Namjoon, but I know what I’m doing. I can take care of myself.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and smiled down at you. “If you say so. Well, Rose is in my room and I was about to drive her home so you could tag along.”

“Perfect.” You grinned.

Rose managed to keep her questions to herself until the two of you were back inside your shared apartment. She had practically been vibrating the whole drive home.

“(y/n)!” She squealed the minute the door shut. “You fucked Jungkook?!”

You laughed sheepishly, bring a hand up to rub the back of your neck. “Is it that obvious?”

“Bitch! Anybody with two eyes could see you got fucked last night when you add that a whole house party saw him literally carry you to his room…yes it’s that obvious!”

Oh yeah, you forgot about the very public sweeping you off your feet. “Well, uhh, yeah.”

Rose squealed again, grabbing your hands and pulling you onto the couch. “Tell me everything! Was he really as good as all the girls say he is?”

“Oh my god,” You groaned, throwing your head back to rest on the couch. “Rose, he’s even better. Hands down the best sex I have ever had, and I’ve had some pretty good sex.”

“Ugh, I’m so happy for you! Just be careful, I don’t want you getting attached and getting hurt.” She said, concern clear on her face.

“Don’t worry Rose, I know it was just sex, I know how it works. You know, Namjoon was worried about it too, he’s really sweet.” You watched the blush coat Rose’s cheeks and the dreamy look in her eye at the mention of Namjoon.

“I know. He’s great in bed too.”

You just shook your head. “He really wasn’t what I was expecting though.”

Rose cocked her head in interest. “What do you mean?”

“Like, he was sweet. Not that I was expecting him to be an asshole or anything, but the way he kissed me when all was said and done took me by surprise and he was super cuddly. It was wild.”

Your friend’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “Wait wait wait, back up. He kissed you after sex? And hold up, you were there this morning, so you spent the night?”

Your expression mirrored hers at how baffled she sounded. “Uhh yeah. He kinds insisted I stay the night.”

“And you just slept? No round two? Or three?”

“No, we just slept.”

“Huh,” Rose said after a minute, “From what I’ve heard from other girls, for one he doesn’t kiss after sex, and I’ve definitely never heard of girls spending the night just to sleep.”

“Huh, I dunno. Maybe he just didn’t want Namjoon to be mad at him since I’m your friend. It’s whatever, we had a great time, I’m satisfied.” You replied with a shrug. Rose still looked like she was thinking, but you couldn’t let yourself dwell on it. It was just sex; you couldn’t get your hopes up.

Jungkook was confused when he woke up alone, but just figured you had plans or something, even if he would have preferred to wake up with you in his arms. He’d just slid out of bed when his door swung open and Namjoon stormed in. Uh oh.

“I asked one thing of you Jungkook, asked you to stay away from one girl on campus.” He started, arms crossed and staring down the younger boy.

“It’s not like that hyung!” He defended.  

“Then tell me what it’s like.”

“I like her.” He admitted, red tinting his face as he stared at the ground. “Yeah things are a little backwards right now, but the sex was her idea and I wasn’t going to say no!”

“You like her?” Namjoon repeated, finding it hard to believe. For as long as he’d known the younger boy, his serious relationships had been far and in-between, not to mention short.  

“Yeah,” He replied. “This isn’t what I do with the other girls. I want to get to know her better.”

Namjoon sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Fine, I’ll believe you, but I swear to god Jungkook if I find out you’re pulling some fuck shit on (y/n) I’m going to beat your ass, and not just because of Rose. I like her, she’s a sweet girl.”

“I promise hyung.” Jungkook stressed and Namjoon sighed again before leaving.

By the time Monday rolled around, you felt ready to conquer the world. It was funny how getting dicked down so good could do that to you. Your skin was clear, your crops thriving, you were ready to face anything the world was going to throw at you.

“(y/n)!” An all too familiar voice shouted, halting your walk across campus. You whipped around immediately, and your eyes widened when you saw Jungkook striding towards you, a giant grin on his face.

Okay, maybe you weren’t ready for anything? Because this you weren’t ready for.

“Oh, hey Jungkook.” You smiled, still confused. Was this normal? You were fully prepared to never talk to Jungkook again, not wanting to seem stupid for thinking that the sex meant something.

“You left so early the other morning. I had wanted to get your number.” He admitted, looking slightly sheepish. It was entirely different fromthe confident guy from the other night. It was endearing.

“My number?” You parroted, still feeling like you were in an alternate reality. Why would Jeon Jungkook want your number?

He chuckled and your heart fluttered. “Uhm yeah. How else am I supposed to contact you?”

Duh. How else was he supposed to contact you? That made perfect sense.

…

Nope, you were still baffled. However, you gave him your number because it would have been foolish to say no. “Great! Uhm, I’ll text you later?”

He was staring down at you with those dark brown eyes and you felt your mouth go dry. What was happening? What universe did you stumble into? This wasn’t what you signed up for.

“Uhh yeah.”

Things only got weirder when he actually texted you like ten minutes later. He had wanted to wait longer than that but physically could not stop himself because he just wanted to talk to you immediately. You were surprised to find that you really liked talking to Jungkook. He was funny and seemed genuinely interested in your thoughts and ideas.

However, in the back of your mind you had to keep reminding yourself that he was a fuckboy! You didn’t know what his aim was but catching feelings would only end up with your being hurt, you were sure of it.

That didn’t stop you from talking to him though because you were a dumb bitch who loved getting her hopes up.

Friends what benefits. That’s the label that made the most sense for you because, after a few days of texting and a few hours at the coffee shop, you were in a very familiar position that involved your legs in the air and Jungkook between them. Then a few days turned into a few weeks and suddenly three months had gone by.

“Fuck, yes, just like that.” Jungkook groaned, one of his hands fisted in your hair and you took his cock down your throat. There were tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, but you fought to keep your throat relaxed as your nose was buried in his carefully trimmed pubic hair. You were thanking that one ex-girlfriend who had a thing for seeing you deepthroat her strap because you had a lot of experience in this area.

However, you were still struggling more than you would have liked to due to his size and you had to pull back a minute later before you started choking.  

“You’re fucking amazing.” Jungkook sighed, helping you to your feet and crashing his lips against yours. “Lay down so I can return the favor.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice; you were already dripping from blowing him and were curious to see just how talented he was with his tongue.

“Fuck you’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you.” He observed and you blushed.

“It’s your fault, so get down there and deal with the consequences.”  

“Yes , ma’am.” He grinned before doing a fake salute and lowering his head to place gentle kisses to your inner thighs. You sighed contently, it had been so long since you’d been eaten out and you had a suspicion that Jungkook would be exceptionally good at it. “My favorite meal of the day.”

A sarcastic reply was on your lips, but it dissipated when he flattened his tongue and licked up the entirety of your slit, doing circles around your clit when he reached it.  

“Oh, fuck Jungkook.” You shuddered and you heard him chuckle before diving right back in. That man was talented with his tongue in a way that downright sinful. When he sucked on your clit you bucked up against him and he brought his hands to your hips, pinning you to the bed.

“Don’t worry baby, you’re going to ride my face one day, but not today.” He promised and you groaned, throwing your head back against your pillows. “Your pussy tastes so good, the sweetest treat I’ve ever had.”

You mewled at the compliment, bringing your hands to your chest and tweaking your nipples as his tongue worked wonders. His teeth gently grazed against your clit and your whole body trembled. One of his fingers slipped into you and you moaned loudly, not caring that you didn’t know if Rose was home or not. Jungkook’s pace only increased at your reaction and he slipped a second finger in.

“Oh my god.” You cried out, feeling the pressure building.

“Are you going to cum (y/n), cum all over my face?” He prompted, raising his head to look at your trembling form. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there, just from getting you off.  

“Yes, oh fuck Jungkook, I’m going to cum.” You were so close, so fucking close. Jungkook knew it was almost there and he toyed with the idea of edging you. It was something he wanted to see, you begging for release, crying because of how bad you wanted to cum. One look at the fucked out look on your face and he decided to save that for another day.

Your release hit you hard and you couldn’t do more than gasp at the intensity of it. Jungkook didn’t stop either, making sure to squeeze out every last bit of pleasure before lifting his head and grinning at you. He licked his lips and you shivered when he brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean.

He moved between your legs to hover over your, bringing his lips down to yours and you moaned into the kiss, the mix of his saliva and your pussy tasting way too fucking good. You stayed like that for a few minutes, letting your sensitivity fade a bit. You appreciated the thought even if you did like toying with overstimulation sometimes, that was a conversation for a different time.

You both moaned when he finally pushed into you, easily sliding in since you were still soaked from your orgasm.  

“You take my cock so well baby.” Jungkook praised and you clenched around his cock, he immediately noticed, and a shit-eating grin was plastered across his face. “Do you have a praise kink (y/n)?”

“Oh my god can you just fuck me?” You asked, trying to deflect the question because the answer was a giant ‘yes’.

Luckily Jungkook complied, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. This time was different from the first time, maybe because he had a better idea of what you could handle, maybe because you were more comfortable around each other, maybe because neither of you had been drinking, either way, it was somehow even better. Something you hadn’t thought was possible.

You didn’t stay in missionary for long this time and you weren’t complaining because the way Jungkook was hitting it from the back had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He was hitting even deeper than before and you hadn’t even thought that was possible. His grip was tight around your hips and you were certain there would be bruises tomorrow which only turned you on even more.

“Fuck yes baby, you take my cock so well, your pussy was made for my cock.” He growled, roughly slamming into you.  

“You fuck me so good Jungkook, never been fucked this good before.” You panted, sweat dripping down your forehead.  

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, no one else can fuck you like this.” His thrusts were starting to become uneven and you knew that meant he was getting close. So were you, but it wasn’t until one of his hands moved to your clit that you felt your second orgasm of the night really start to build. “Cum for me (y/n), be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

That was all it took for you to reach your peak. You collapsed against your pillow, keeping your ass in the air as Jungkook pounded into you, thrusts short and intense.

“Fuck, can I cum on your back?”

“Please do.”

He pulled out of you and you heard the lewd sound of his hand moving up and down on his cock. You craned your neck to watch as his finished himself off, and the look on his face when he finally came was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. Streams of cum hit your back and you shivered.

Jungkook sighed contently, pausing for a minute to take in the sight of you, naked, ass in the air, pussy still glistening, and his cum painted on your back. He wanted to engrave it in his memory.

“Towels are in the second drawer in the bathroom.” You offered, the novelty of having cum on your back quickly fading. Yeah ,it was hot having him cum on you, but that didn’t change the fact that you thought cum was gross. You knew some girls thought it was hot, but that was not you.

“Oh shit, yeah, be right back.”

“Hey Jungkook.” You heard Rose greet when he walked out of your room and you couldn’t help but laugh.  

“Oh, uhm, hey.” He replied awkwardly and you laughed again. You heard your door close and sighed thankfully when he wiped his cum off with a wet towel. “Do you think she heard us?”

Finally, able to fully collapse on your bed, you did so with a happy sigh. “Oh definitely, these walls are paper thin.”

You turned your head to see Jungkook looking the slightest bit sheepish. “Believe me Jungkook, she deserves it. I’ve had to listen to her and Namjoon’s kinky ass sex more times than I can count.”

He laughed at that and your stomach flipped. You liked his laugh.

“You should have said something; I could have had you really screaming.” You instinctively squeezed your thighs together.

“Is that a promise?” You asked innocently and saw the way his eyes darkened.

“Wanna find out?”

The breathy ‘yes’ was barely out of your mouth before his lips were on yours.

Jungkook didn’t leave until the next morning and you were sitting at the dining room table, a cup of coffee in your hand and a peaceful smile on your face.

“Okay, we’re having an intervention,” Rose said seriously, plopping down across from you with a serious look on your face.

“What are you talking about Rose?” You laughed, the smile slipping when you saw that she wasn’t joking.

“What is going on with you and Jungkook? And don’t give me that friends-with-benefits bullshit.”

“But that’s what we are.” You defended and your best friend threw her hands up in the air.

“No, you’re not (y/n). Friends-with-benefits don’t do the shit that you two do, they don’t go on dates, they don’t bring you flowers, they don’t cuddle and watch movies.”

“They’re not dates.” You weakly protested because, in the back of your mind, you knew that. You knew that wasn’t normal friends-with-benefits activities, but that was the only way you could think to label what you and Jungkook had.

“Babe,” Rose said softly, the frustration fading to concern. “You’re in love with him, I can see it clear as day.”

And there it was. The thing you had been vehemently denying every time your heart fluttered or you thought about just how nice his lips were. Tears began streaming down your face before you could stop them, and Rose jumped up.

“Wait! Don’t cry! He loves you too you dummy!” She said frantically and your eyes shot up to meet hers.

“What are you talking about?” You sniffed.

“God you’re an idiot, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. That boy brings you flowers, takes you on dates, and didn’t you tell me he ate you out for thirty minutes straight the other day? Only stopping because you insisted?”

A blush coated your cheeks as you remembered the incident she referred to. “Okay? That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.”

Rose sighed. “So Namjoon told me not to say anything but Jungkook told him that he liked you, and that was way back when you first slept together, and we were talking about it the other day and Joon said he hasn’t brought a girl home that wasn’t you since that night. I see the way he looks at you babe, he’s so whipped it’s ridiculous, he would do anything you asked him.”

You were reeling from your best friends’ words. That was impossible. There had to be some kind of explanation because there was no way someone like Jungkook would ever like someone like you. It was like Rose could read your mind and her expression softened. “(Y/N), why is it so hard for you to believe that Jungkook actually has feelings for you too? To the point that you wrote off everything the two of you did as ‘friendly’. When have we ever cuddled like that while watching movies?”

You looked down at the table, fiddling with your thumbs. “I just, Jungkook is really hot and super popular, and I’m just…me.”  

“And you’re fucking amazing babe, really hot and super popular and the funniest person I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure my friends like you more than they like me at this point. Look just…talk to him. Even if by some one in a million chance he says he doesn’t feel the same way, I know you have feelings for him and you can’t keep seeing him like this if he doesn’t feel the same because that’s not healthy. There’s a party at the frat house this weekend, please, talk to him.”

“Okay Rose, I will.” You promised; head still muddled.

You were the walking dead a few days later as you trudged across campus to your lecture. It was midterm time and you had been up literally all night studying for it. It was going on hour twenty-three of being awake and you had a full day ahead of you. You felt like shit.

“(y/n)!” It took your tired brain a second to register that someone was even calling your name, and another second to recognize the voice, but when you did your heart skipped a beat. When you turned around and saw Jungkook striding towards you, a cup of coffee in his hands and a smile on his face, your heart was ready to stop. Rose’s words were still running through your head and you couldn’t look the boy in the eyes, even when he was finally standing right in front of you.

“Hey Jungkook,” You greeted softly. It was too much, too early, and you were too tired. You didn’t want to have to think about how you were in love with the hot guy in front of you, not when you were already past the point of anything feeling real due to sleep deprivation. “What’s up?”

“Here, I figured you’d need this after all the studying you did last night. You’re on your way to your test right? I know you’re gonna kill it!”  

Your eyes shot up, seeing the boyish smile on his face and the coffee he was offering in his outreached hand. He really wasn’t helping the whole ‘in love with him’ situation. “Oh my god, you didn’t have to do this.”

His smile only grew wider as he watched the blush color your cheeks. “I know, I did it because I wanted to. Take it, I got it just the way you liked it.”

You shyly took the coffee from his hands and took a little sip. He really did get it just the way you liked it. How did he even remember that? You’d only gotten coffee together like twice. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You can show your appreciation by giving me a kiss.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. This wasn’t friends-with-benefits behavior, but you complied anyway because what were you going to do? Tell him no? So you reached up on your tiptoes and gently pressed your lips against his.

It was so different from your normal, lust-filled, passion-driven kisses. There was no smashing of lips, no heavy breathing, not bites and moans. It was soft, and tender, and made your whole chest feel warm. How did you not realize you were in love with him before because it was glaringly obvious now.

“You’re coming to the party on Saturday, right?” He asked when you pulled apart.

“Yeah, about that,” You started awkwardly. “I uhh, need to talk to you about something, maybe after the party? I have midterms all week so that’s the next time I’m free.”

He brought one hand to the side of your face and you instinctively leaned into his touch. You were fucking whipped. “Of course babe. Is something wrong?”

The genuine concern on his face took you by surprise. “No! Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay.” He said with a gentle smile before lowering his face to yours and placing a gentle kiss to your lips. “One more for good luck. Now go show that test who’s boss.”

“Sir yes sir.” You smiled.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Rose arrived. She tried to stick by your side, but you shooed her away. You didn’t exactly want her on your hip when you talked to Jungkook. The whole situation would be embarrassing enough without having your best friend witness it.

It was surprisingly hard to find said boy. He was usually at the center of the party, but you couldn’t find hide nor hair of him.

“Hey (y/n)!” You whipped around, smiling when you saw Namjoon standing behind you.

“Hey Joon!” You greeted over the almost deafening music. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

The older boy seemed to think for a minute before answering. “I think he went grab something from his room.”

“Thanks!”  

“See you later!”

You knew the way to Jungkook’s room like the back of your hand having been there so often lately. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute with the thought of just why you were seeking out the boy. This conversation was no something you wanted to have, but Rose was right, you were in love with him. If he didn’t feel the same way, continuing to sleep with him wouldn’t be healthy.

His door was cracked open when you approached it and you paused to collect yourself. After taking a deep breath, you reached forward to push open the door, but your movements froze when you heard a very much female voice coming from the room.

“C’mon Kook,” The voice giggled. “We always have fun together; I miss that cock of yours.”

What the fuck? You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be listening to this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Besides, he could reject her advances, you couldn’t jump to conclusions just because of what she said.

“I said no Amber.” You exhaled softly, feeling some of the tension slip away. Okay, good thing you didn’t immediately jet out assuming the worst. “I have a girlfriend.”

Nope, you should have jetted out because this was so much worse. Right when you were about to back up and make your heartbroken escape, some drunk frat boy bumped into you, propelling you forward into the room.

“Shit.” You squeaked, landing on your knees.  

“(Y/N)?” Your eyes shot up, meeting Jungkook equally surprised look. The girl, Amber or whatever, was standing incredibly close to him, one hand pressed firmly against his chest. That wasn’t what bothered you though, it was the fact that he had a girlfriend.

You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He had a girlfriend. What did that make you then? The side piece? Did she even know about you? The thought made you want to throw up.

“(Y/N)! Wait!” Jungkook shouted frantically when you scrambled to your feet and darted out of the room. You had to get away from him because you were going to cry, and that last thing you wanted was for him to see you cry.

Unfortunately, your legs were short and his were long, so you’d only made it a few steps before his hand was wrapped around your arm, halting your fleeing.

“Let go of me.” You said quietly, pathetically. It made you cringe; you didn’t want to sound pathetic. You wanted to sound angry, you wanted to be angry. To yell at him, to hit him, but all you felt was such a crushing sadness it felt like you were drowning.

“It wasn’t what it looked like babe.” He said desperately, begging you to believe him.

“Don’t call me that.” You shot back. “And let me go.”

“(Y/N) please, you have to believe me, I-”

“I said let go!” You shouted, louder that time and managing to draw the attention of a few people. You lifted your head, meeting his gaze and his grip on your arm loosened when he saw the tears beginning to stream down your face.

“Babe…” You took the opportunity to tear yourself from his grip and throw yourself into the crowd of people. There wasn’t any particular direction in your mind, you just had to get away, and that’s how ended up literally running into Namjoon.

“Whoa there, tiger.” He said jokingly, using his arms to steady you. The smile dropped from his face when he saw the tears trailing down your face. “(y/n), what’s wrong?”

“Can you take me home? Please. I want to go home.” You sobbed and he paused for a few seconds before nodding and scanning the crowd.

“Just, stay here for a few seconds, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.” He said and you nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. He was back in a few seconds like promised, and your tears only started coming faster when Rose wrapped herself around you.

“Baby oh my god, what happened?”

“I just want to go home, please Rose.” You cried and she nodded, guiding you out of the frat house and into Namjoon’s car.

They were both quiet the whole way home, just letting you cry. Rose sat with you in the backseat, keeping you in her arms. They didn’t poke and prod about what happened even though you knew they both had to have some kind of an idea.  

“(Y/N), what happened?” Rose asked softly as you curled up on the couch. She took a seat next to you and Namjoon stood nearby.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” You muttered, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes again. “He has a girlfriend.”

“What are you talking about?” Your best friend prompted.

“Jungkook, he has a girlfriend. Some girl was coming onto him and he rejected her, saying he has a girlfriend.” You buried your face in your arms, curling into an even tighter ball. The hand on your back stilled and you could feel the anger radiating from Rose.

“Joon. Outside. Now.” She barked and you watched the two of them leave the apartment. You’d never heard your best friend yell, you weren’t sure she was even capable of it, but she was so loud you could hear it from inside. Great, now you were fucking up her relationship.

Wiping the tears from your face, you got to your feet and migrated to your room, collapsing onto your bed and willing yourself to sleep, not wanting to have to face the real world anymore.

Jungkook was more stressed than he could remember. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, and seeing the way you looked at him, he knew that’s exactly what happened. But it was all just a misunderstanding! Amber was coming onto him, and he was rejecting her! You just came in at the wrong time and fuck, you just wouldn’t listen to him.

He’d been blowing up your phone with messages and calls, but you were ignoring him. How did things go so wrong so quickly? Things had been going so well between the two of you. He had just picked up his phone to call you for the umpteenth time when his bedroom door was slammed open and Namjoon stormed in.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?!” The older boy roared and Jungkook immediately took a step back. Namjoon didn’t anger easily, and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen him this angry.

“It’s a misunderstanding, hyung! Amber was coming on to me, but I rejected her!” Jungkook defended immediately, already knowing why his frat leader was so angry.

“That’s not the issue! You have a fucking girlfriend?! I told you not to pull any fuck shit with (y/n), stringing her along while you have a girlfriend qualifies as fuck shit! And who is this girl anyway? You haven’t brought anyone over but (y/n)?”

Jungkook’s mind was reeling. “Hyung, what are you talking about?”

“She heard you tell Amber you have a girlfriend!”

“(Y/N) is my girlfriend!” Jungkook stressed and saw the way Namjoon’s face morphed from anger to confusion.

“What?”

“We’ve been dating for almost three months.” The two boys just stared at each other for a minute before a Namjoon started laughing. “Hyung, what’s so funny? Who else would my girlfriend be?”

It took a few minutes for Namjoon to compose himself enough to actually reply to the younger boy. “Jungkook, let me ask you something. Did you ever ask (y/n) to be your girlfriend?”

“Uhh, I mean, no…but we go on dates and I bring her flowers and we talk all the time…and have a lot of sex.” He replied sheepishly and Namjoon started laughing again. “Stop laughing!”

“You’re such an idiot.” He said in-between laughs. “You can’t just assume things like that Jungkook. (Y/N) thought the two of you were friends-with-benefits, then she heard you telling Amber that you had a girlfriend tonight and thought you were talking about some other girl.”

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. That was it? That’s why you were upset?  

“Go fix this Jungkook, and please just tell that girl you’re in love with her.” Namjoon didn’t have to tell him twice.

“(Y/N), get up!” A voice hissed, pulling you out of her deep sleep. “Get your dumb ass up right now I swear to god.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me? Heartbroken, remember?” You groaned, sitting up and glaring at your best friend.

“Jungkook is here and you’re going to talk to him.” Your heart immediately dropped to your stomach.

“What kind of best friend are you? Aren’t you supposed to hate him with me?”  

“Get up and go talk to him before I drag you out of this bed.” She threatened and you huffed before sliding out of your bed. Jungkook was the last person you wanted to talk to, but you knew better than to test your normally mild-mannered friend. “He’s standing outside.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and trudging to your front door. It wasn’t like you could avoid Jungkook forever, you were hoping for at least a few days though. Your hand was heavy on the doorknob. He was right on the other side, the boy you loved, the boy who had a girlfriend.  

Might as well get the shitshow over with. Then you could go back to your normal, boy-free life and happily swear off relationships for the rest of your life.

“What do you want Jungkook?” You asked immediately after swinging the door open. Seeing him took your breath away, why did he have to look so good all the time?

“You’re my girlfriend!” He shouted immediately and you just blinked up at him.  

“What?” Was all you could manage, and his hands moved to grip your shoulders.

“I was talking about you, you’re my girlfriend. Or, I thought you were, I thought we were dating. I really like you (y/n) and we were spending all that time together and going on dates, I kind of just assumed we were in a relationship.” He confessed, a blush creeping across his cheeks. You were still speechless, unable to think of anything to say in response.

“Wait, how long did you think we’ve been dating?” You finally asked, forehead scrunched in confusion.

“Since the first time, we went out for coffee.” He mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Huh.”  

“Huh?” Jungkook parroted.  

“I really am an idiot.” You said with a sharp laugh. “God it all makes sense looking back at it, I was so convinced that you couldn’t possibly have feelings for me that I just wrote it off as being friends.”

“Friends don’t have the kind of sex that we do.” Jungkook pointed out and you giggled.

“Friends-with-benefits?” You suggested and he just shook his head. “I just…I’m sorry.”

Jungkook cocked his head. “Why are you apologizing? I should be the one to apologize for not being clearer.”

“I just don’t understand why you’d want to date me.” You confessed softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

“Hey,” Jungkook breathed. “Look at me.”

You lifted your head, locking eyes with him and feeling your heart thud painfully against your chest. He was so gorgeous.

“You are so amazing and funny and beautiful. I literally love everything about you, spending time with you is my favorite thing to do. I just, I really like you.” You were both blushing at his confession. “And the way you take my cock down your throat is the hottest fucking thing on the planet.”

You slapped his shoulder as he laughed. “Way to ruin a touching moment.”

“We can have other touching moments.” He suggested with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

“I,” You started. “I really like you too Jungkook.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “It would have been awkward if you said you didn’t after all that.”

His large hands cupped your face, tilting your head up so he could press his lips against yours. You melted into the kiss immediately.

“Just one question.” He said, breaking apart to smile at you. “Will you be my girlfriend.”

You laughed before leaning forward to touch your lips to his. “Yes.”