#either way. take it easy take it slow keep a water bottle in your bag and don't be embarrassed to take a break if you need one

[mishkakagehishka]

corks how tf do u walk so much. my dorm is at the top of the hill and most of my classes are like halfway down it and making that walk both up and down is killer. my ankles hurt. my hips hurt. it makes my chest hurt. help

For me it's a case of getting used to (i walked some 10min uphill today to get to my hairdresser's and it killed me bc. I took public transport all the time here and fell out of the habit of walking), but don't you have chronic pain or smth of the sort? I vaguely remember you mentioning smth like that :[ honestly my suggestion sucks, but i'd say: leave earlier than you "have to" so you can take breaks to avoid overexerting yourself.

My commute's most annoying part is the 15min walk from my stop to my college. And it took 20ish min at first bc i had to take it slow until i got used to it.

[theunholygrails]

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

[wisehoagiekidwobbler]

Forms of Witchcraft

•Dolls and Poppets

Poppets are the English terms for what movies call a ‘voodoo doll’. Voodoo doll is a misnomer, and does nothing for either poppets or Haitian magic.

Poppets can be used for a couple of things – mainly either cursing or healing. This doesn’t always have to be physical curses/cures – poppets can also be used to influence thought patterns.

Dolls can also be used to provide homes for Spirits, or used to create guardians. You can also use a doll as a scapegoat to prevent a curse from latching onto you.

•Shrinemaking

Shrine making is less a way to create a defined outcome, and more a way of pleasing Spirits who you may later want to call upon. It’s kinda like taking your new neighbours a pie, in case you ever need them to watch the house whilst you’re away. The pie is an overture to a friendly relationship, not direct payment for the house sitting. However, if you just blundered into their garden one day and offered them £100 to watch the house, they’d probably tell you to get lost. Randomly calling up Spirits, Saint or Deities can have the same effect. I mean, would you help someone get a job if they just banged on your door and waved some incense at you? Get your local Spirits pies. Find out what scents, and objects, and offerings that they like. Keep the land around you clean, and pick up after other people if you can. Use your vote and your money to protect the land from logging and fracking. Build a dedicated ‘meeting space’ where you call up Spirits, and fill it full of pictures of them or things they like. It pays dividends in the future.

Shrinemaking can also be used to help bless and protect your home and land. By connecting with the other Spirits that are there, you solidify the relationship, and can work together against intruders.

•Bottles and Jars

Witch bottles (or spell jars)  are fun, easy ways to create a variety of effects. As a spell base, they can be effective for:

* money

* love

* friendship

* animal work

* protection

Some people define a witch bottle as strictly the traditional version which is used as a scapegoat, and call other spells involving bottles and jars ‘spell jars’. Some people use the term witch bottle to encompass all magics involving jars.

You can learn about all types of bottle magic in the free course which you can sign up for below!

•Candles

Candle magic is a much more modern form of magic than you’d think – especially if we’re talking coloured candles. Candles were very precious objects in the past! However, it was not an unusual item to have, like a hunk of crystal or fairy doll, which is why they became an item to use for undetected witchcraft – like brooms, and cauldrons.

As candles have got cheaper and cheaper and less needed to be used for lighting, much more forms and types of magic have sprung up around them. With the addition of coloured waxes or painted candles, the sorts of magic you can do with candles has grown exponentially.

Candles are a subset of fire magic and therefore are fantastic for banishing, but they are often the beginners tool of choice. It’s easy to understand why – easy to get hold of, easy to use, and there’s as much fancy ritual needed as you feel inclined to give it.

When you want to expand your knowledge, you can still stick with candles – but investigate the use of oils, herbs and crystals in conjunction with candles.

•Crystals and Rocks

Crystals and rocks are often used as ‘ingredients’ in other spells. They are very easy to add to bottles, pouches, dolls and more. However, you can also use crystals in spell work solely on their own by adding them to your pillow, till, money box, plant pot, etc.

Their use goes much further than this, but that enters the realm of energy healing which is a part of many traditions and is a very dedicated and intensive practice all by itself, and too much to explain here.

Air

You can utilize the powers of air in a lot of ways. It’s usually good for cleansing spells – think sweeping with a ritual broom, burning incense (smoke=air, not fire), ringing bells or playing bowls, singing, using flags and wheels. Air methods tend to return quick results.

Earth

Earth brings slow results, but they tend to be larger. Earth practices include enchanting seeds that will bring you money as they grow, burying offerings in the Earth, making vessels and spells out of clay, or writing spells in the mud.

Fire

Fire can bring things into your life, but is much better used to get rid of them – for beginners, anyway. If there is anything in your life that you wish to get rid of, you can write or draw a representation of it and cast it into the fire to remove it.

Water

Water can take the longest time to bring you what you need. However, think of water pounding against a rock. Drips of water became rivers, became waterfalls. Water can often bring you the biggest results, but it may take a long time.

Water spells can include potions (see below), but can also include ritual baths, leaving offers in water, or giving up bad energy or habits to the ocean.

•Bones

Bones are a contentious subject in witchcraft. Some people will never use them, some people’s practice is not complete without them. You can actually get bones in an ethical manner, by either cleaning up roadkill yourself or paying someone to do it for you, or literally keeping the bones from your dinner!

Some uses for bones are:

* Telling the future (casting bones or lots)

* Housing the Spirit of the animal so you can work with them

* Form parts of wands or ritual jewellery or headresses

* Ingredients in pouches

Tarot, Runes and Ogham

You can use all of these fortune telling tools in spells, too! You can choose one of them that has a characteristic or represents an outcome that you’d like. So if you wanted a new job, you might choose the Ace of Pentacles. Then you could do any one of the following with it:

* Use it to focus a candle spell

* Add it to a pouch or bag spell

* Add it to a jar spell

* Use it in lieu of a sigil

* Make a vision board around it

* Even burn it! (You can get single Tarot cards for this purpose on eBay.)

•Potions and Elixirs

Potion Magic used to be a lot more popular. Whilst elixirs, tisanes and tea blends are still popular for use on yourself, the masses of recipes of potions, philtres and similar recipes have all but died out. That’s because a lot of potion magic is only to be used in desperate circumstances, like love potions and curses. The reason so many old fashioned love potions are beyond creepy and controlling is that woman’s husband was her meal ticket. If he left her, not only would she be blamed, but she would be out of a house, food and her own family probably wouldn’t take her in. She had shamed them all. (Often through no actual fault of her own.) She was literally facing public humiliation, being outcast, perhaps even starving to death – and sometimes her children along with here.

So dousing  a lover or husband’s food with love potion made a lot more sense then, than it does now.

Thankfully, most of us don’t live in those circumstances any more, so a lot of philtre or potion use has died out. However, there are still some amazing things you can make to ingest yourself:

* Tea blends

* Tisanes (herbals teas)

* Bath spells

* Lunar or solar water

* Herbal Oils

Spoken Magic

Spoken Magic can be long and complicated, or very short. It doesn’t have to rhyme (but it can) it doesn’t have to flow like poetry (but it can). You can use spoken incantation to help direct energy when you’re using other methods, but you can also use it on it’s own.

Some examples of spoken magic:

* Affirmations

* Words of power

* Singing

* Ritual Offerings

* Wishes

You can even banish Spirit’s solely through your voice. Shouting ‘Leave!’ with the correct intention can be very powerful.

•Written Magic

Written magic has existed since we could write. Many cultures view writing AS magic. Think about it – 26 (or thereabouts, depends on your alphabet) tiny squiggles can become anything when placed in the right order. Dumbledore was right about the power of words.

Written magic can include:

* Petitions to Spirits

* Magic squares

* Words of power or protection

* Wishes

* Tattoos

* Rune work

Bag and Pouch Magic

There is all kinds of bag magic – from mojo bags, to more modern spell envelopes. The main idea behind bag or pouch magic is that keeping a carefully curated selection of objects together for a certain time period will produce the effects that you want. A lot of bag magic produces indefinite spells  provided they are charged. Such bags usually grant the wearer protection, prosperity, luck or good health. However, there are bag magics wear a specific time limited spell is wanted – invisibility spells, hex breakers and the like.

•Enchantments and Glamours

Enchantment covers a variety of spell types, but theme of the spells are pretty much the same. Enchantment covers a lot of the old folklore kind of witchcraft – hidden worlds, changing age, changing into different animals and so on.

Enchanting something fools the viewer into believing something is there when it is not, or isn’t there when it is, or is something completely different.

Think of the Harry Potter scene where Hermione explains that the ceiling of the Great Hall isn’t a real sky, it’s just enchanted to look that way.

Real enchantment can be done for fun, but they can also be useful pieces of magic. You can enchant jewelry, clothes or makeup to bestow certain personality traits upon you. You can enchant your witchy items to look normal if you’re fearful of discovery. The possibilities are just about endless.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Independent Study Part 2: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader x Geto Suguru

synopsis: I literally have no words for this synopsis. I think I might be going to horny hell after this.

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW (like FIVE ALARM level! PLEASE Y'ALL, IF YOU ARE A MINOR STAY THE HELL AWAY PLEASE)

masterlist

11:59.

You ring the doorbell and wait patiently for the grad student-turned employee to answer the door, but you’re surprised to see a white-haired, blue-eyed man instead. He stares at you for a moment, and you look back at him with equal curiosity, then he calls out over his shoulder:

“Suguru! I think your professor is here.” Geto appears seconds later, dressed in his black slacks and a blue shirt, rubbing his left eye slowly.

“Hey, y/n. You’re right on time, as usual.” When you’re let into the house, Suguru moves to sit on the couch in the living room instead of leading you back to the bedroom, which was unusual. But the white-haired boy was also unusual. When you sit down on the plush furniture, you sit your bag beside you and pray that the new person in the room wouldn’t plop down and curl his arm around you. But of course, he did just that.

“Suguru… She’s a lot prettier than you let on.”

“Y/n, this is my friend, Gojo Satoru an--”

“But you can call me Satoru, gorgeous,” he purrs and you try to keep a straight face, eyes trained on Geto’s unmoving expression.

“I’ve invited him over for our fifth trial.”

“Will he be watching?” you question and Gojo breaks out into a cackle, leaning his head back and letting the sound travel in the open air.

“Me? Watch?” He laughs again, but you ignore his rudeness.

“No, sweetheart. He’ll be participating this time. I just need your permission and then we can get started.” Two men at once… you consider the possibilities and rub your thighs together, pursing your lips.

“If you need anything to sway your choice… I do have some very interesting tongue skills,” Gojo mentions, making a show of sticking his tongue out and moving it around wildly for emphasis. You choke on air, but Geto just rolls his eyes, standing up.

“Let me get you some water.” When he disappears into the kitchen, you try to wait patiently for him and not engage with Gojo, but he whispers into your ear,

“I think you’re going to have a lot of fun with us today… You ever been fucked from behind while sucking a dick at the same time?” Oh, shit.

“Geto!” you call out, standing from your seated position. He returns immediately, a water bottle in his hand.

“What’s the matter?”

“C-can we go ahead and get started?” Both men are stunned into silence, but when Geto hefts the water bottle in his other hand and sits it on the counter, you know he’s ready too. You’re flanked by both men on your way to the bedroom, but you’re already terribly wet at the thought of having four hands roaming around your body instead of the standard two. So when Geto turns on the camera, does his introduction, and states the name of the trial, you’re already half unclothed with Satoru’s fingers undoing the zipper on the back of your yellow dress.

“Hey,” Geto grunts, noticing the two of you undressing quickly. “Didn’t realize you’d want to fuck each other immediately.” With that, he strips off his tie, leaving it behind him as he stalks toward you, fingers expertly undoing the buttons on his shirt. By now, both men have their shirts off and are fondling you over your bra and underwear, Satoru behind you and Suguru in front of you. While Geto angles your face toward his and kisses you tenderly, Satoru is pressing kisses against your neck and back, and you’re in heaven, feeling sensations tenfold. Thick fingers dip into your underwear from behind, and Satoru hisses, feeling the slick between your thighs.

“Holy fucking shit; it’s like a damn waterfall down there…”

Suguru chuckles, takes your wrists, and pulls you to the bed, laying underneath you while Satoru removes your underwear easily and dives face-first into your core. Your head lifts up as you feel his hands spreading you apart, but Suguru pulls you back down to continue kissing him, murmuring:

“Easy there, professor…”

And Satoru was not lying when he said he had interesting tongue skills. Your moans are amplified when Suguru frees your breasts from their enclosure and begins to suck on them, his tongue running around your nipples skillfully. Satoru pulls away from your dripping cunt for a moment, undoing his pants and letting them fall to the ground.

“I’ll bet you ten dollars we can make her cum more than three times.”

Your right nipple pops free from Suguru’s mouth and he laughs. “You’re on.” You groan loudly, feeling fingers dip into easily, then slide back out just as fast, to which you keen a little, hips bucking back.

“Yeah, I don’t want to finger-fuck you. Sorry, professor, but I’m here for the main event.” Gojo mentions, The familiar crinkle of a condom wrapper coming undone reaches you despite being fully immersed in the moment with Suguru’s mouth on your tits, but when you feel the thick cockhead at your entrance, you angle upwards, almost fully coming off of Suguru’s body. But Satoru uses his free hand to push you back down, sheathing himself halfway before pulling back out.

“How is it?” Suguru asks him, hand holding your head against his chest.

“Fuck, man,” Satoru groans, leaning into you again. “How do you fuck this waterslide raw and not nut immediately?” Geto laughs out loud, rubbing your arm tenderly as you stare up at him in ecstasy.

“Practice, Satoru. That’s all it is. Practice.”

Geto was absolutely right about that, you realize, as Gojo fucks you from behind, and your mouth is stuffed with Geto’s cock. You can barely make any noise with both men ramming into you, but damn if it didn’t feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” you groan, the shaking of your thighs beginning to feel like an orgasm just teetering on the edge of your consciousness. Satoru takes a couple of fingers and plays with your clit, which topples you over into your first orgasm of the afternoon.

“She’s an eager little slut, isn’t she?” Gojo mentions, smacking your ass roughly with the hand he used to make you cum.

“Gojo,” Suguru warns, holding your hair and looking down at you tenderly. “You know the rules.”

“My bad,” Satoru mumbles. Your fingers rub away at your clit furiously, hoping to let the high crest again. Geto pulls you off of his cock, and you take a deep breath, feeling Satoru remove himself from inside of you at the same time. You wonder what the two are up to until you’re flipped on your back and pulled to the edge of the bed by Geto’s rough hands. He enters you in one smooth move, and you instantly notice the difference between the two:

What Gojo lacks in girth, he makes up for in length, and vice versa for Geto. Satoru peels off the condom and strokes himself a few times before pressing the tip of his cock to your lips. You open your mouth to accept him, and while you're taking his length into your mouth, something new happens.

Gojo leans over to touch Suguru’s face affectionately, and while he’s still ramming into you… they lean in for a kiss. Your body suddenly realizes this is all the permission it needs to cum one more time - and with no hands, just two cocks - you feel the sensation of an orgasm ripple through you again, built up by the first.

Suguru seems to notice as well and smiles as he pulls away from Satoru’s lips.

“Gojo, I think we’ve got our second one.”

“Shit, she’s cumming again?”

“Look at her,” Suguru murmurs, and Gojo looks down at you with his blue eyes, observing the way your body stiffened and relaxed rhythmically. The amused glint in his eye does not escape you, and you wonder what he’s thinking as soon as he removes his cock from your mouth.

“I’ve got just the thing for her, then. I’m not losing my ten dollars.” Another condom is produced and rolled down Gojo’s length, but when he takes his place behind Geto and leans him over you, your face contracts in confusion.

“Wait, wha--”

“You better hold on to something, Su,” Gojo whispers, and Geto angles his hips up - still deep inside of you - as Gojo presses into him with a calculated slowness.

“Oh, fuck.” Suguru moans, his breath hot against your neck. It takes a few strokes for Gojo to get fully inside of Geto, but when he is, all bets are off.

“Holy sh--” you’re cut off by the smacking of two sets of hips, one driving the other deeper into yours, and with more force. But Geto is lost, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tries to keep pace with Gojo. And Satoru’s eyes are glazed over, his head angling back far enough so he can watch your facial expressions with a lazy smile painted on his face.

“Hey, professor, I forgot your name,” he breathes, and you try to reply, but your brain is lost somewhere a million miles away. “Su, what’s her name again?” Suguru can’t reply either, sweat dripping down from his face onto your chest as he tries to catch his breath. Gojo just laughs, knowing he’s got both of you fucked completely senseless. Your hands catch Suguru’s face and you pull him down to kiss you in between the heady moans and groans shared between the two of you.

“Oh, god,” Geto whines. “I’m gonna cum, ‘Toru.”

“Fucking do it,” Satoru grunts, and that’s Suguru’s ticket to let loose inside of you, his violent orgasm bringing you to the edge as well. “That’s it,” he moans, then grunts in time with his deep thrusts, which pushes Geto’s cock into you and some of the cum leaking out of you.

You all remain there, coming down from your highs slowly as if you were all suspended on a cliff you couldn’t walk down from quite yet.

“Yo, Su,” Gojo pants, wiping his face. “Trials six through ten should be like this again. You know, to account for any extenuating variables.”

“Agreed,” Suguru nods, pressing a kiss to your face and whispering, “What do you think of that, professor?”

“Anything you want, Mr. Geto,” you exhale, and the two men smile at each other mischievously.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @amaris9 @vabybizzle @missbonekitty @fyotituti

[p4lparker]

A Helping Hand

The car ride was relaxed, music playing and a gentle breeze flowing through the opened window- John B wearing his cap backwards and same sunglasses as yesterday- couldn’t have looked more calm if he tried. Your eyes scanned his profile, gaze locking on his thighs; mind floating to how it felt not to long ago to be rubbing yourself into him, resting on those very same thighs. His large hands exploring your body, grasping your hips, guiding you to oblivion. Breath hitching as your thoughts continued this path; you couldn’t quite believe that the boys had agreed, you had only meant for one of them to have sex with you… not both of them helping you out, and with that thought the nerves wracked through you. Questions soon flooded your brain and you struggled to keep up.

Did that mean you’d have sex with both of them at some point? Your mind raced at the thought and a shiver edged down your spine. Was JJ going to teach or show you something? Or was it going to just be John B? You mouth suddenly felt dry at the prospect of doing other things with John B or even JJ. Would John B ever let you help him out? Would they teach you that? Your mind raced as John B pulled up outside your house, the driveway empty. He turned the ignition off and began to get out of the Twinkie. You followed him and scuttled up to the front door- pulling out the hidey-key from the fake brick, you unlocked the door, John B following behind you as you both entered the empty home. You walked from room to room- grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge before jogging up the stairs. You opened your bedroom door and let John B in; scoffing as he threw himself onto your bed and made himself comfortable. He just shrugged, you ventured round the room collecting fresh clothes; some jean shorts, a cover up top and a fresh bikini. You took a step towards your door, deciding to shower off the; sand, dirt, sun cream and other griminess from the day before. John B caught your eye- he winked and grinned at you, making your eyes narrow suspiciously, before deciding it would be safe to leave him unattended for a short while. One of your hands reaching up and untying the bandanna around your neck, you smirked before throwing it across the room- it landed on John B’s face with a huff from him. Entering the bathroom, turning the shower on and pulling the dirty clothes from the day before off and tossing them into the hamper by the door. You sighed and looked at your reflection in the mirror as it began to fog up with steam. Stepping into the hot water of the shower, released all of the tension in your body as the stream pounded on your back and shoulders. You hadn’t even known you were tense until you let the water flow over you. The comforting smell of your bodywash and shampoo wrapping around you like a blanket- the scent clinging to you as you washed off and cleansed your hair. When you were content that you were clean- you stepped out and wrapped your body in a fluffy towel, another twisting around your hair to dry of slightly. Pulling on the bikini you’d picked for that day; you smeared on the sun screen- rubbing it in on all the areas you could reach, a thought popping into your mind. You collected the rest of your outfit and walked back into your room, laughing when you saw John B jump- accidentally dropping the book he was reading the blurb of onto the floor. “Help me out would ya Routledge?” You asked, quirking and eyebrow and offering him the bottle of cream. He nodded, his lips twitching into an easy smile. You turned your back to him and peeked over your shoulder at him- he took the remaining steps to you easily, he pinched the middle strings of your top in one of his hands. Playfully tugging on it, until it fell loose- knot untying, he squirted some of the cream into his hands. Rubbing his palms together and then gently massaging it into you skin; you hissed at the sensation of his warm hands and cool cream mingling together, he smoothed the cream into your back, hands and fingers kneading the skin. A sigh leaving your lips- you looked over your shoulder to John B chuckled- pecking at you neck and shoulder making you giggle. He pulled back quickly and began frowning, lips blowing raspberries and smacking together as he tried to get the taste of the sun screen from his lips and tongue. You laughed raucously- hands untwisting the towel on your head, and letting your hair hang free to dry naturally. John B scowled at you- you settled you laughing to a gentle giggle as you reached back to re-tie your top. John B stepped towards you, and took over for you; his fingers tickling your skin as they ghosted against you. Winking over your shoulder, before reaching for your top and shorts, pulling them on, along with your beat up converse. He grabbed onto the previously abandoned bandanna, and re-tied it

around your neck- teasingly poking at the hickey there before covering it up. The pair of you ventured down the stairs, heading to the kitchen. You pulled the heavy fridge door; poking your head inside to see what you could swipe for a day on the HMS on the marsh. Eyes narrowing in on the beer hidden at the back, you reached in and pulled the six pack out, pushing it to John B’s chest and gesturing for him to follow you out of the house. You made it back to the bus and set back off for the chateau. Again the journey filled with music and jokes- pulling up outside, you both turned to at the sound of a familiar engine. The dirt bike swayed into the drive- gravel and soft dirt spewing upwards as it was disturbed. JJ cut the engine and hopped off the bike, sauntering over to the pair of you- blue eyes alight with mischief, raggedy cap resting on his head. He fist bumped John B and tugged you under one of his arms as you all made your way the Pogue. John b jumped in first- setting the beer in the storage box before turning to you and wrapping his hands around your waist, yours flying to his shoulders as he lifted you from the dock and into the boat- JJ untying the ropes and jumping in himself- pushing away from the dock with ease. John B trailed to the wheel and started her up, steering smoothly along the waterway. You wandered to one of the benches and plopped down, twisting and setting your feet in front of you on the bench- JJ followed you, and flopped onto you, his entire body weight landing on your lap- leaving you to groan and huff as the breath was forced from your lungs. He laughed slinging an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you to his side before letting you go and jumping up. Lifting your legs and popping them into his lap as he sat on the bench next to you, resting his hands on your thighs. John B glancing back at the pair of you, smiling softly and continuing to steer the boat to Pope’s place- as you reached up to JJ’s head and yanked his hat off, ramming it on your head, batting his hands away as he reached to try and take it back. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and giving up- before plucking at the bandanna tied around your neck.

“Dressing like John B now?” He asked, devilish smirk ever present, tugging on the material playfully while you blushed. Your mind wandering to earlier on- the marks John B had left, searing your skin. John B laughed loudly- throwing his head back, leaving you to flounder not knowing how to respond. JJ pulled on the material slightly, moving it to the side and eyed the mark on your neck- letting out a low whistle before winking at you, making your blush burn brighter. JJ let the fabric fall back into place as the boat veered slowly to the side- closing in on the dock, Pope waiting at the edge, fidgeting with his back pack and cap. Not bothering to tether off, John B waved for Pope to make a jump for it; which he did. Urging the brunette to go faster as the familiar holler of the elder Heyward as he came jogging out to the dock- just in time to see the four of you sail away, waves and wide grins matching as he shook his head before turning to go back to work. Pope huffed out and made his way to the store, piling in the stuff from his bag before settling on the edge of the boat as you continued to the next stop. You took a moment to look at the Heyward boy; he looked tired and as if the festivities from last night were taking a toll, but you figured you all looked a little rough. Again the boat veered to the side; John B slowing her down in preparation for Kiara to join you. You heard JJ snicker from beside you, you stopped gazing at the scenery passing you to look towards what he found funny. You felt a hand lift to your mouth as you took in Kie; she was pale, eyes hidden behind incredibly dark sunglasses, hair left loose and wild, a baggy top and cut offs covering her while she crouched on the dock. Pope held a hand out for her to step on to the vessel, when she was safe- he reached back and pulled the heavy cooler in after her. He then supported her to sit on the bench next to you and JJ; you having pulled your legs from his lap, allowing for enough space for her to squish on next to you. She whined softly and gently dropped her head to your shoulder. “No more tequila for me.. like ever!” She whined, as you all chuckled. JJ busied himself digging in the cooler and handing out beers to everyone. Kie tried to refuse, but changed her mind and popped he tab on the can before taking a swig. JJ held yours out to you, but when you reached for it he pulled it away- you rolled your eyes and gestured for him to pass it to you. He smiled in a way that made your legs feel like jelly- your cheeks feeling warm, as he held it to you teasingly.

“Say please Y/N…” JJ stated, still dangling the beer just out of reach. Kie leaned up and frowned at JJ- he was disturbing her. John B shook his head but didn’t intervene when you looked to him, shrugging his shoulders; he wasn’t quite sure of JJ’s game but he wouldn’t involve himself. Pope was no help either, as he just laughed- you pouted and JJ’s grin widened. You stood abruptly, again reaching for the beer- JJ lifted his arm into the air, beer taunting you from above. You reached up, weight resting on your tip-toes, still trying to extend your arm and grab the beverage from him. He laughed, and it pushed you to stretch too far- weight pushing too far forwards, leaving you to tumble slightly, bumping in to his chest. Your chest crushed against his own. The feeling of his hard planes through his shirt pressing against your soft form left an impression on you. You bit you lip as JJ brought the beer to the hand not resting on him, handing you the can as he smirked into you face and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. A soft cough leaving you as you could still feel the blush covering you. You glanced to the others and saw they were paying you no attention. Moving away from the blonde devil, you plonked yourself next to Kie, who in turn had moved to the bow of the boat. She’d tugged off her shirt and was baking in the sun as it glared down on you all harshly. You sighed and decided to copy her; soaking up some sun and topping up your tan seemed like a good idea.

You perched next to her, poking her exposed stomach and making her giggle before you tugged the top up and over your head. Pope who was dropping the anchor, and was keeping a close eye on Kie from afar spluttered; alerting you, JJ and John B to something. You felt your skin heat up as they all openly stared- it felt like you were glowing bright red under their combined gaze. Pope’s mouth was dropped open as he stared at you and Kie lounging in the bow- anchor in hand half submerged. John B stood, eyes glinting on the sunlight- he’d seen the suit you’d chosen for the day already, but it still worked wonders on him- letting any thoughts he’d had flitter away in the breeze as he watched you intently. JJ sat with his forearms resting on his knees, his hands rest over his mouth- but you could tell his jaw was clenched, eyes wide and staring at where you and Kie lay. Kie had sat up when all had gone quiet, she tilted her sunglasses down off her eyes and eyed you also, she laughed- the bikini had been one she urged you to buy when it had been on sale- saying it did wonders for your body, he nodded her head, winked at you and the blew a kiss to the boys behind. You shied awy from the glance and lay down beside her stiffly.

“Dude, own that shit- you look amazing… It’s like they’ve never seen a woman before…” She laughed- her eyes still uncovered by her shades. You tried not to let yourself focus on the fact that JJ and John B had been eyeing you like their last meal on Death row- but the more you tried to ignore the fact, the more it pushed to the forefront of your brain. There was a sense of accomplishment running through your body- as well as a shiver from the weight of their stares. You bit your lip and tried to focus on the way the sun heated your skin; how it kissed against you leaving you to feel overheated. You couldn’t have been bathing in its glow for longer than half an hour before you heard the tell-tale splash as someone had leaped off the side of the Pogue. Another splash followed shortly after. Watched as Kie stood and shed her shorts and sandals before too diving in- letting out a whoop of joy as she did so. You sat watching Pope, John B and Kie fling water at each other and paddle around cooling of in the marshy water below- a smile on your lips, and then you felt him siddle up to you. He made sure to bring his body as close to your own as possible, you could feel the heat pouring from his body- and it raised goose bumps on your own.

“You not going in?” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear- sending shivers down your spine and heat curling deep within you. He watched you, eyes focused entirely on your face as you bottom lip was caught between your teeth. You pulled your legs to your chest and rest you arms atop them, as something to do with your body. JJ’s finer gently stroked down your arm before tugging on your fingers and pulling you to stand with him; his other hand reached to the hem of his top and he pulled it up and over his head. The fabric dangling from our joined hands for a few moments before he grinned deviously at you. He let go of you hand and let the material drop to the deck, before his hands wrapped around your waist; fingers tickling slightly as he pulled your bodies flush together. You hadn’t noticed him backing you up to the side of the boat, you hadn’t noticed his grip tightening around you until it became apparent what was going to happen next as your feet left the deck and you were tossed through the air- flopping into the water below, water spewing up and over your head. As you surfaced, spitting salty water from your mouth and wiping at your stinging eyes, you could hear the uproarious laughter of the rest of the gang. JJ stood smugly on the deck of the boat- water droplets glistening on his torso, you felt your eyes drift down his body and felt your heart clench at the yellowing bruise on his waist and rib cage, the sight of them not being there for long as he scrunched his body up into a ball and crashed into the marsh. A wave of water cascading over you all as he hit before diving down and surfacing- spitting water from his mouth like a fountain. He paddled over to you, one hand gripping onto your ankle and tugging you towards his body- before his fingers looped themselves through the belt loops on your cut off shorts- still adorning your body- before his arms wrapped around your waist and held you against him as he lay back to float through the cool water.

You sighed as the tips of your convers clad feet surfaced- you resented the fact that he’d not allowed you to fully undress before throwing you over board, but you settled against him all the same. Your head resting against his shoulder and his face close to yours.

“So… what did you and John B get up to while I was gone?” he asked, his insanely blue eyes peeking down at you through his irritatingly long lashes- a smile pinching at his lips. You gasped as you felt his fingers trace over your body just below the surface of the water- if any one of the pogue’s focused on you, they’d be able to see his fingers trailing over you waist and hips, lingering on the underside of your bikini top- playing with the material there, he could feel your breathing hitch and decided to tease you more. His fingers spidering over you ribs and gently crept upwards, to barely cup your breasts, giving the gentlest of squeezes. You gasped at the feeling- that familiar heat curling through you as you could focus on only the feeling of his barely there touches.

“We uhh.. just made out I guess…” you whispered back, mind racing to how it felt to have John B’s hands touching you like JJ’s were now- you struggled all you could sense was JJ.

“That explains the hickey… I at least expected something more… But I guess I could start the ball rolling… what do you day Y/N? Hmmm?” He murmured against your ear, and all you could do was nod as his fingers fluttered down to where your shorts hugged our hips wetly. His dextrous digits toyed with your button, you groaned quietly and turned you head to rest in the crook of his neck, he chuckled lowly. He’d barely touched you, but you were anxious for him to. You wanted to feel his fingers digging into your soft skin as heat and passion coursed through your body. Your body was burning for him- even in the cool water. The heat curled deliciously in your stomach as you urged him on mentally begging for some kind of relief from the teasing and the ache between your legs. Your lips pressed into a thin line as his hand slid lower to gently explore between your legs- where you ached and were soaking for him. One of your hands slipped down your body and began to toy with the button of your shorts he’d previously abandoned, you flicked it open and let your hand slip inside to relieve some of the tension you felt. JJ could feel your hand beginning to do what he intended- he moved his hand from cupping and ribbing you to slap your own hand away. He tutted in your ear and let his hand replace your own.

His fingers played with you bikini bottoms aggravating you as your body ached for something- anything at this point. You felt like you were sweating, you body twitching at the slightest ouch of his calloused fingers- your lip being bitten into, to try and supress any sounds that may leak out. He chuckled again- a raspy sound that made heat surge through you and settle where his hands were teasing you- before he let go of you and twisted you round to face him. His hands waded through the water and dragged your legs to wrap around his waist, before moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Once you were settled, he waded the water until he had moved you behind the Pogue and out of the view of the others. And that was when he pounced. His lips attaching to your own in a rough needy kiss- teeth and tongues clashing as he kissed you furiously. His fingers working themselves down your body- cupping and squeezing your breasts on their way to their final destination; your bikini bottoms. One hand rest in front of your aching crotch- the other holding and squeezing your ass. He pulled from your lips and stared at you; his normally sky blue eyes darkening to a navy colour- he didn’t move a muscle, waiting for you to give him the go ahead.

“Please..” You whispered brokenly, and that sound he could barely hear over the pounding of his heart beat and the blood rushing in his ears was all it took for him to slide his hands into your bikini bottoms and begin exploring the unchartered territory within. His fingers stroked gently against your folds experimentally- he could feel how slick you were and it was mixing with the water surrounding you both- his finger probed deeper, sliding over the sensitive nub and circling it softly. Before angling differently and sliding to where you were most slick- he rubbed around your entrance teasingly collecting more of your slick before heading back to your abandoned clit. He rubbed on it slowly; circling it, drawing patterns on it delicately as you mewled into his shoulder- forehead resting on his collar bone as you struggled to hold yourself against him. His movements became quicker as did your breathing- your pants coming out quickly and fanning against his skin, goosebumps springing up in its wake. He could feel his own arousal peaking it’s head as he listened to the quiet moans that slipped from you lips. H nudged his chin against your head- causing you to look up at him and his lips captured yours once more in a ravenous kiss, that smouldered through you- stoking the flame within. You could feel knots tangling themselves with in your lower stomach- the ache becoming more apparent the more desperate you became.

You whined against him pitifully as the sensations rushing through your body almost made ou forget your name. All that mattered to you was that his fingers never stopped as they edged you towards your end slowly but surely. JJ changed the angle of his hand again- his fingers finding your aching and leaking entrance before slipping in his thumb took over their previous ministrations. His fingers pumping into you shallowly as the confines of your shorts restricted his movements somewhat. His lips parted from yours as a particularly loud moan slipped form them- and he watched your face as you experienced the pleasure he was giving you. He watched as your eyes became glassy with lust and your approaching orgasm, the pink blush decorating your cheeks, the rounded o shape your lips formed as your end drew nearer. You could feel your limbs beginning to turn numb as you mind could only focus on the shocks of pleasure radiated form you clit. The coil in your stomach tightened impossibly before coming apart all together like you. Nonsensical mutterings fell from you lips between pants and soft moans. JJ bit his lip to stop himself from joining you in euphoria, watching you come undone before him and around hs fingers had been one of the most enticingly beautiful things he’d ever seen. And He couldn’t be more grateful for him and John B agreeing to help you out; because after seeing you b completely overcome by pleasure he was pretty sure he could die a happy man. Your body pulsed with the aftershocks of your release.

You were glad JJ was supporting your weight, as you weren’t entirely sure you wouldn’t have drowned in the waist deep water- as your body felt like the bones had abandoned it. JJ pulled you closer and that was when you felt him- he was hard and digging into you from beneath your shorts clad core. He was pushing and grinding himself against you- something he was unaware of until he he sucked in a breath between clenched teeth.

“Fuuuck…” he whispered, as you ground back against him- you let him push and rut against you; letting him chase after his own release. You dug your fingers into his wet hair and tugged-pulling his head back and giving you access to his neck, kissing at it gently to not leave marks as you coaxed him to his end. JJ worked himself against you- his chest heaving as he pushed and pulled at your hips- his fingers still buried in your shorts doing unspeakable things working you to completion as well. All too soon you both met in a clashing kiss once more to stifle the sounds of ecstasy as you both released. Your orgasm washed over you harshly as you hadn’t quite recovered from your first one- but as you clung to one and other- your hearts slowing and your breathing returning to a light gasp every now and then you both grinned maniacally. JJ finally removed his hand from your shorts, and waded you back to the group, dropping kisses to your neck and shoulder. When you were back with the others he unwrapped you from around him and held your back to his chest once more- letting you both float carelessly in the calm and cool marsh. If Kie and Pope had noticed your absence they didn’t let on, John B however frowned at the blissed out expression on your face he recognised- it had been burned into his memory.

[moxfirefly]

@aurora-the-kunoichi

Ok I accidentally deleted it but thankfully didn’t loose the important bits!

Rated Explicit (18+ Only)

Tonight held a different energy.

Leonardo had shown up with a bag and a grin that alluded to what the night might bring.

Which is how you found yourself sat on a chair, arms expertly tied behind your back in intricate patterns.

The small hitch was that Leo had placed one of your most hated but favorite of toys right upon your sex. The toy was snug against your sensitive nub and a very amused Leo sat in front of you. “I gotta say when I got here I had a few things in mind” His thumb hovered over the button.

He moved it upwards increasing the speed.

You squeaked, toes curling as you tried to keep your focus on making a mess so soon in the evening.

And well, Leo had stated that if you came without his permission that would be all you got for the night.

Which meant no him.

You swallowed and bit the inside of your cheek.

Focus.

“I wish this had a better range, would take it with me all the time” He sat back on the couch, cool as a damn cucumber over your rapidly increasing shakey form. “When you’re at work” He decreased the speed. “When you’re with friends” He increased it once more. “Maybe when you’re with that annoying co-worker of yours who thinks he has a shot” He pressed down fully, the jolt making you tremble as your mouth opened in a soundless moan.

He smiled before setting it back down to a low hum. He scooted closer, hands coming to rest on your trembling knees. “If I were you I’d control my breathing, darling” He cupped your chin, blue eyes assessing you for any discomfort, you nodded understanding his worries but egged him on when you snuck a tongue out.

Leo shook his head with a smile, getting up in all his imposing glory. “I don’t think you’re truly aware of how I go through with my threats” You bit down on the tip of your tongue, eyes so coy. “As if you would miss on the opportunity to show me that angry side you like meditating away so much” You kissed the pad of his thumb, eyes glued to his.

Seamlessly he slid that digit into your mouth, the softness of your plump lips around his thumb.

He leaned down, pressing his lips towards your ear.

“Does somebody want to have a ruined orgasm?” You stopped immediately, mouth slipping away slowly.

Leo reveled in it, he knew how much you despised it and you had already been on the nasty end of it a few times.

“Sorry Sensei...” Your voice was hushed. Leo kissed your forehead before sitting himself back down on the couch in front of you. He toyed with the remote, each teasing flick of his thumb over the button making you tense up. The low continuous hum was making a mess out of you, wetness pooling beneath you.

A breeze hit you and your naked skin pebbled.

The leader admired you, taking stock of the perspiration on your skin, the hardening of your nipples. Your innate need to try and grind down on the toy. “You’re beautiful Y/n, I could just keep you like this on my bed everyday if it were up to me” You saw a hand run down his muscular thigh. You followed that hand, trying to muster your focus on it instead of your slow building release.

That strong hand went to the front of his pants. “How about a game?” Your shoulders slumped, there was no way you were going to win whatever diabolical game he decided to cook up.

He lifted himself enough to slide down his pants. Your eyes went straight to his thickening member. He gripped it lightly, a teasing touch that made him sigh out. “I’m going to sit here and do this, I’m going to time you and if in the next ten minutes you haven’t cum, you get a reward” Leo gripped himself for emphasis, oh you wanted that reward.

Fair enough, you could do this. The slow vibrations surely would drive you mad but you could defenatly go ten minutes.

“Oh, forgot to mention...” Leo pressed down on the buttons of the remote several times, each increasing hum jolting you. “I’m putting that in it’s highest setting” He smirked enjoying how your body was squirming, trying your best to swallow your moans.

Fuck.

Leo lazily pumped himself, fingers toying with the head of his cock as you tried to reduce the pressure by not trying to sit on the toy so much. “Oh come on, I’m sure you can make ten little minutes like that” He spread out his legs, eyes darting to your engorged sex. “L-Lee, Jesus p-please” Your voice was strained, body flushed . “Please what?” He set the control aside and made for a bottle of lube in the bag.

You watched him with all the patience he possessed squirt out a bit onto his hand to cover over his member. The sound of his fist engulfing his thick member as he worked him had you biting your lip hard. “Please what?” He repeated himself, stroking with a much firmer grip. You hunched over, feet firmly planted on the floor with an orgasm quickly approaching. Your eyes watered as you thrashed.

“Darling that isn’t good posture, sit up straight” Leo dragged his tight fist to the tip and teased, gaze so tantalizing you wanted to scream. Nevertheless you did as told. He looked over towards the timer. “Hey five minutes to go, you’re doing so good.”

You whined a pathetic noise and stomped your feet. “Please! I-I won’t-shit! Sensei please, please I’ve been so good!” Your words were muddled. Each passing second felt like an hour passing by. You breaths came in quick successions and each one felt like it would give way to your impending finale.

Your eyes rolled back as you shook, willing every nerve in your body to halt. The tensions in your legs, your fist clenched and unclenched. “Leonardo please f-for god sake I’ll do-do anything you want me to” When you dared to focus your vision on him again a small section of your pride swelled. He was quickly stroking himself, a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out of him. He was fully atune to your shaking body.

The groan melted into a low churr and just when you felt your battle was lost you felt the offending toy shut off.

You slumped forward breathing so hard you were sure you would pass out. With some energy you were able to return your gaze to Leo who smirked.

He beckoned you.

You gulped.

Your legs felt like those of a newborn deer as you stood. The small step too much as you fell against him, knees at either side of his. The tension in your tied arms rivaled those of your shaking thighs. Leo ran a hand through your sweaty locks, lips kissing yours tenderly. “Good girl, you get rewarded”

When he entered you a long breathless mewl escaped you.

Two thrust in you came with a vicious tremble of your body and a noise that maybe resembled his name.

By the time Leo was showing signs of nearing his own release your body had shocked you with at least four more climaxes. Each one so strong and dizzying, each one perfectly gripping Leo’s cock within you. That sensation would never stop being his favorite. Your sweaty disheveled self would never stop being his favorite.

“C’mon, one more” His voice was a growl, strong arms holding you upright. “For me, hm? Do it for me” He bit down on your shoulder, eyes shutting tightly when he registered yet another orgasm leave you. A pathetic whine was all you could muster as you felt Leo thrust upwards and empty himself in you. The warmth of your slick coupled with his own release making him groan.

You felt like a limp noodle against him even as he peppered loving kisses to the harsh bite on your shoulder. “Easy, untying these” He undid the knot, strong hands massaging your arms to bring them back to a comfortable position. “Everything good? Was I too rough?” He kneaded the flesh and you shook your head. “M’fine, just beat” You mumbled against his neck.

“Bed it is then, on three ok?” He hooked his arms under your bottom and lifted himself and you in one easy fluid move. You were already out by the time he made it to the bedroom, but nevertheless you felt secured and blissed out.

Sometime around dawn you stirred enough to feel him behind you, arm secured around your waist.

[willowandfog]

TAKING FLIGHT

Complete

Summary: Kagome has been struggling with her disability most of her life but she's never felt anything but normal with Inuyasha always steadily by her side. But when her neurologist approaches her with the chance to recover full use of her leg, she takes it.

A childhood friends to lovers, soulmates AU

Read on AO3 or Below the Cut

Inuyasha was already awake and drinking a cup of strong black coffee when his father arrived. Touga chuckled at the sight of Kouga sleeping on the floor, curled into a ball with his tail wrapped around his waist. Miroku was still obviously unconscious on the couch, lying face down, with mouth open and drool slowly pooling below. 

“You boys had a nice evening then I take it?” Touga asked him as he poured himself some coffee into a mug.

Inuyasha laughed slightly. “Sure. You could say that. We all got drunk, well Miroku got absolutely pissed, and then Kouga tried to fight me.”

Touga raised a brow at that. “For the fun of it or for a specific reason?”

“Cause he still wants Kagome. Told me that if he could beat me that he would be the one to marry Kagome today.”

“I take it that went...well? The furniture all seems to be intact.”

“Oh I was all for the fight, then I just said no and went to bed.” Inuyasha set his now empty mug in the sink before heading back to the living room. “I’m sober and my hangover is almost gone so I imagine Kouga is fine and just sleeping in, lazy bastard. Miroku will be feeling like crap if he’s even sober by now.”

Inuyasha knelt by the couch and gave Miroku a shake. “Miroku, buddy.” Inuyasha shook him again when there was no response. “Miroku, time to wake up.”

Miroku groaned, rolling onto his back “Go way.” He muttered.

“Well you can wake up now and have some coffee and we can hit a drive thru for some greasy food for you and you can still stand by me today as my best man or I’ll ask my dad to stand in your stead. Which would you prefer?”

Miroku’s eyes fluttered open. “There was no option in there for you to kill me so I’m on the fence.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, rising. “Kouga. Wake up, either come with us or go home. You’re not staying here.”

Kouga flipped Inuyasha the bird from his place on the floor, but still opened his eyes and ran a hand over his face. Groaning, he sat up. With a heavy sigh he stood before making his way towards the bathroom. “I’m coming, wouldn’t want to disappoint Kagome by not having her favorite youkai in attendance.”

Inuyasha let out a warning growl just before Kouga slammed the door closed. 

“You guys aren’t friends right?” Touga questioned as he handed a fresh mug of coffee over to the now sitting Miroku.

“Nope, I put up with his existence because Kagome has a soft spot for sad lonely wolves.”

“I heard that!” Kouga yelled through the door just before the sound of the toilet flushing came through. 

“Good.” Inuyasha called to him. “I’m gonna go grab some socks and mine and Kagome’s luggage. We can head out after Miroku finishes his coffee.”

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Inuyasha sat in the passenger seat, munching on a hashbrown as his father drove and Miroku and Kouga sat in the back, both chowing down on breakfast sandwiches from the drive thru. 

“Did you have to go home first?” Inuyasha asked his father as he sipped coffee from his paper cup. 

“No, we are stopping by the Higurashi’s; Kagome left her overnight bag there and your mother texted me and asked me to grab something she left there as well.”

Inuyasha nodded, looking out the window and watching the scenery pass by. He thought that he would be feeling nervous by now but found that he was more antsy and anticipatory for the whole event to begin. 

When the car pulled into the short drive and came to a stop, both Inuyasha and Touga climbed out and made their way to the house. Inuyasha used his key to let them inside, he proceeded towards Kagome’s old room while his father went towards the kitchen. He immediately noticed Kagome’s bag, resting on the computer chair in front of the desk. He glanced around the room and peeked into the bathroom to make sure she hadn’t left anything else lying about. After snagging her hairbrush off the bathroom counter and tossing it into her bag, he noticed that one of his shirts was tucked underneath her favorite pajama bottoms. 

Inuyasha pulled the shirt free, bringing it to his nose he inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of Kagome was strong on the fabric but there was a hint of his own as well. The combination of the two scents had Inuyasha’s youkai ‘purring’ as Kagome liked to put it. Upon the realization that she must have worn it to bed during their night apart, he clutched the shirt to his chest and bowed his head over it. While he wished that she didn’t have to deal with having such a hard time being apart, Inuyasha was slightly ashamed to admit that he was also glad that he wasn’t alone in the feelings. Bringing the shirt back to his nose he took one final whiff before tucking the shirt back into the bag and zipping it closed. 

Bag slung over his shoulder, he met his father by the front door.

“Dad, can I ask you something?”

“You know you can.”

“How did you and mom do this? Stay a night apart, I mean. I feel it shouldn’t be this...difficult to sleep away from Kagome for one night. I mean, we are apart for a majority of the day during work.”

“Well, mainly, your mother and I were already bonded before we got married, so that helped. It still wasn’t easy, trying to sleep when your mate isn’t there is extremely challenging. Being full youkai, I don’t think I could’ve handled sleeping apart at your mother’s request if we hadn’t been bonded already. But you made it through and it should get easier here soon, just knowing your mate is in the same vicinity as you, surrounded by family. And just keep in mind that by this time tomorrow you will be a husband, mate, and soul bonded, and your mother and I couldn’t be more proud.” Touga clasped Inuyasha tightly on the shoulder, squeezing lightly in affection. 

Inuyasha gave an almost shy smile. “Thanks dad.”

The pair shared a brief tight hug before heading out. 

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Inuyasha finished buttoning up his dress shirt before reaching for the cufflinks that his father had worn on his wedding day. He turned as he slipped the first one into place, taking in the sight of Miroku sitting on the sofa in the ‘man cave’ as the venue called it. He was nursing another bottle of water, head resting on his open palm.

“So, care to tell me what all the excessive drinking was about last night?”

Miroku rotated his head slightly in the semblance of a head shake. “I… had a date with Sango last week and I fucked it up.”

“How did you manage to fuck it up, haven’t you two been going on dates for months? Haven’t you already had sex?”

“Yes. I did something really stupid, panicked and ran out of there; leaving her with the bill and all alone in the middle of the restaurant. And I haven’t responded to any of her calls or texts and I just don’t want to face her today.”

“What did you do?” Inuyasha chuckled, straightening his sleeves after pinning the second cufflink into place.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’ll be ok, you guys have been doing this dance since junior year. Off and on, someone always says something to screw things up, you guys fight or don’t speak. Then one of you apologizes to the other, or you guys get drunk and make up.”

As Miroku opened his mouth to reply, the door to the room creaked open, and Izayoi’s bright smiling face appeared. 

“How’s it coming in here, boys?”

“We’re great, mom. You can come in.”

She slipped into the room, letting the door snik shut behind her. Her eyes quickly took in the room, scanning everything before settling on Miroku. 

Inuyasha looked over his mother as she studied Miroku for a moment. She wore a floor length midnight blue sheath dress that Inuyasha knew perfectly matched the markings that graced his father’s cheeks. The bodice had a layer of flowery lace in the same shade, cinched at the waist before flowing to the floor in a shimmer of satin. 

“Miroku, dear. Would you mind helping Touga outside for a few minutes, please?”

Miroku’s brows met his hairline for a moment as he looked back and forth between Inuyasha and Izayoi. 

“Ummm, yeah, sure.”

“Thank you, dear.” Izayoi gave him a sweet smile as she watched him go. 

Inuyasha turned back to the floor length mirror, picking up his pale golden tie from the side table. Looping it around his neck, he watched his movements in the mirror as he began tying the Windsor knot. He was halfway finished when his large hands were cupped by smaller delicate ones. 

Izayoi took the tie into her hands and resumed Inuyasha’s work as his hands dropped to his sides. 

“Kagome looks lovely.”

Inuyasha gave her one of his rare genuine smiles. “She’s always lovely.”

“Transcendent then.” Izayoi stuck her tongue out at him before giggling and folding down his collar, adjusting his tie into place. 

Izayoi stretched up to her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. Dropping back onto her heels she made her way over and sat on the sofa Miroku had vacated. Waving him over she pointed to the floor in front of her. 

“Sit.”

Inuyasha stopped in front of her. “Sit on the floor? But I’ll wrinkle my pants.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “They’ll be fine for a few minutes, sit please.”

He sat on the floor between her legs, crossing his legs and instantly relaxing. He had always found sitting on the ground, comforting.

Izayoi picked up the hairbrush that was resting on the side table and began to brush Inuyasha’s hair in gentle, slow strokes. 

“I remember,” she said softly, “doing this when you were a little boy. You were always so excited for it. You’d come running to me with the brush and you would instantly climb into my lap when I would sit down. Oh, how it used to lull you to sleep, you would slowly start to slump over more and more until you fell asleep right there in my arms. I would just rock you in your sleep until your father came and scooped you up and carried you to bed.”

Inuyasha smiled fondly at the memory, eyes drifting closed as the sense of peace came over him. “You used to hum too.” He murmured.

She hummed her acknowledgement before beginning to hum a soft lullaby under her breath. When the song was finished she leaned forward and planted a kiss to the back of his head, setting the brush down on the cushion beside her. 

“I love you, mom.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you too. You know, you have been and always will be my little boy; but you’ve belonged to Kagome just as long. Your father and I are so happy that this day is here and we are so proud of the man you’ve become. You’ve always done whatever you can to take care of and provide for Kagome, and those are amazing things to receive from a mate.” She kissed him again before rising.

Inuyasha stood and turned towards her, quickly moving to wipe her cheeks when he spotted the dampness there. 

Izayoi smiled tenderly at him. “Today is a joyous day. One of the happiest days of my life was marrying your father, tied with the actual mating, and having you of course.” She lovingly stroked his cheek. “Now. Let’s get you in your jacket and outside.”

Inuyasha nodded slightly as he pulled her into his arms, tucking her under his chin and holding her tightly. He held her for several long moments before he released her.

“Ok. I’m ready, let’s do this.”

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Kagome had been pampered, massaged, prodded and poked all morning and she was ready to be done. While the beginnings of the day had felt great, she was ready for the hair pulling, fidgeting, pins poking her head, and the fussing to be over with. All she wanted was to walk down the aisle and tell Inuyasha how much he meant to her and then be whisked away as husband and wife and spend the night in his arms. 

She missed him something fierce, and she felt like she was starting to itch under her skin. She couldn’t quite figure out if that was the bond making her extra antsy and on edge being away from him or if it was just in her head. She could only imagine how Inuyasha was feeling about the separation since he had always felt the effects of the bond much more strongly than she had.

“Your hair turned out so beautifully.” Her mother stood directly behind her, stroking a gentle hand across her shoulder.

Kagome noticed Sango, her friend since freshman year of college, and Ayame, her good friend she was a new start with at work, standing behind her mother in the mirror she was sitting in front of, both nodding their agreement. She hoped to introduce Ayame and Kouga later at the reception, she had a feeling that they would get along and she hoped that they would hit it off pretty well. She had always felt a little guilty that Kouga still carried a torch for her even after finding out that she was Inuyasha’s mate. 

Turning her attention back to the mirror, she turned her head back and forth, taking in her seemingly simpler hairstyle that had cost more than she had been willing to pay. A relaxed french braid started at either temple, forming a crown of sorts around her head and met together in the back to form a low messy bun. Loose tendrils fell from her bun and more were deliberately left out framing her face with slightly wavy strands. A simple gold leaf and pearl hair vine comb was pinned up against the side of her bun. She really did love it but still felt that the style could’ve been achieved without paying the amount that they had but her mothers had insisted that a wedding day was a day to splurge for the finer things, like having someone else to do your hair and makeup. Kagome was happy to have talked them out of insisting that she hire a makeup artist as well, pleading with them that her friends had asked and wanted to participate by being the ones to do her makeup. They had done a great job, her skin looked smooth, and she was shining in all the right places, her eye makeup was noticeable with the winged eyeliner and the shimmering gold shadow but it was all light enough to still look closer to a natural style. 

“Alright, let’s get you into your dress.” Izayoi came over carrying a shoe box that she set on the vanity.

Twenty minutes and eight overly helpful hands later, Kagome was finally tucked into her dress. Izayoi and Sango guided her over to her chair and helped her sit, rucking up her dress as her mother and Ayame knelt on the floor, each bearing a shoe. 

“Guys.” Kagome protested. “I can put my own shoes on.”

“Don’t be silly, darling.” Izayoi spoke by her side. “It’s hard to reach your own feet in a wedding dress, besides we enjoy helping.”

Kagome held back any further comments as each of her feet were worked into her crochet lace pointy toed flats with a sheer organza lace up ribbon. Although she was able to walk without her crutch now and almost always had a smooth gait when she walked, she wasn’t able to get much practice in with heels and had decided that it would be safer to wear flat shoes. But that hadn’t stopped her from taking Sango and trying to find the prettiest flats she could, and she thought the ballerina lace up shoes were to die for. After they finished criss-crossing and wrapping the ribbon around her leg and tying it into a neat little bow at the back of her calf, both Ayame and her mother stood. 

“There.” Her mother beamed. “Now, let me grab my phone before you get your first look in the mirror.”

All four of her helpers reached for their phones at once. There were no blinding flashes throughout the day so far, no intruding presence, the photographer they had hired had been snapping photos throughout the process, occasionally disappearing to where Kagome could only guess was the ‘man cave’ where the boys were getting ready. Even though the photographer, Lacy, Kagome thought her name was, had been amazingly silent and unobtrusive, everyone else was still insistent on taking photos on their phones. 

Kagome had been avoiding her own phone for most of the day, fighting the urge to text Inuyasha. But she came to the conclusion that having some hand taken photos and selfies of her wedding day would be a nice addition as well. Rising, she made her way to the vanity, careful not to look into the mirror. Pulling her phone out of her bag, she opened up the camera and turned to snap a few photos of everyone else digging their phones out of their bags, except Sango who was explaining some app she had to Kagome’s mother. 

“Ready? Will someone take some photos with my phone too?” Kagome unlocked her screen, her lip quivering slightly at the sight of Inuyasha’s grinning face gracing her wallpaper. 

“Yeah I got it, Kagome.” Ayame said as she came up beside her and gently took the phone from her hands, patting her softly on the shoulder. “You’ll see him soon, he’s fine and you’re doing great.”

“Thanks.” Kagome murmured as she sniffled before turning away. 

Shaking herself out of her momentary lapse she slowly made her way over to the floor length mirror in the corner. She gasped when she saw herself. She had loved the dress when she saw it in the catalog but she was amazed that it looked as great as it had before. Knowing she was being ridiculous since she had seen herself during her fitting, this felt different, more final. 

The intricately embellished bold lace bust delicately embroidered with sequins had a deep v-shaped neckline showing off just the right amount of cleavage. The bust flowed into a voluminous silk chiffon circle skirt, ending as it graced the floor. Turning slightly she caught sight of the low open back that ended with a small silken bow. Smiling, she turned to face the mirror again, reaching up to finger the delicate hand-beaded shoulder detailing with strings of thin spider-silk-like beaded strands dangling off her shoulder in drooping half circles. 

Kagome was vaguely aware of exclaimed praises and comments about capturing good photos but it was all background noise. She shook herself from her daze and turned back to face the group, the sooner she was done fawning over herself the sooner she could walk down the aisle. They snapped a few more photos before taking turns taking selfies with her then gathering for group photos. They asked the photographer to also take photos with all their phones of the small group of women. 

Kagome’s mother pulled her aside and hugged her, stroking a tender hand across her shoulder.

“I wish your father was here to see how beautiful and happy you are. I know he’d be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

Tears filled Kagome’s eyes, her gut clenching as it always did when she remembered the accident that took her father from her. 

“Thanks mom, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” She pulled her into another brief tight hug as Izayoi stepped up beside them.

“I’m going to go check on the boys and make sure Inuyasha is ready and get him out there. Take a few minutes to yourself, your mother and Sango will wait for you outside the door.”

Kagome nodded, giving her soon to be mother in law a hug. As the door closed behind the group Kagome let out a sigh of relief at finally being alone for the first time that day. She gathered up the couple items of hers that were strewn about the room and piled them into her bag; sneaking at glance at Inuyasha’s photo on her phone before tucking that too away and zipping the bag closed. Her mother had mentioned coming back to the room after the ceremony to grab her bag for her so Kagome wanted to make it as easy as possible on her.

Walking over to the vanity she sat, taking a few calming breaths. When she stood again she felt her weak leg give a little tremble. Sighing, she went back to her bag and extracted her brace. Sitting down she hastily pulled her skirt up and with difficulty managed to get her shoed foot through the brace and pulled up into place. After a stern glare at the brace, she stood, smoothing her skirt back into place. She gave one last glance into the floor length mirror before making her way to the door. 

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Inuyasha escorted his mother down the aisle, a symbol to their guests that it was time to find their seats as the ceremony would be beginning shortly. Kagome and Inuyasha had opted to not have a long drawn out intro to the ceremony, not wanting to wait what would feel like forever as bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle. So Sango and Miroku were already in place at the end of the aisle, standing to either side, ready to support and be witness to the union of their friends. In truth, Inuyasha hadn’t wanted anything to draw attention away from Kagome being presented and walking down the aisle.

Inuyasha studied the trees that they had picked to get married under. They were beautiful, far reaching weeping willows, standing slightly apart. Leaving the perfect amount of space for the couple to stand together in front of everyone and declare their love for each other. Kagome and both of their mothers had come out the day before and helped the venue string up fairy lights all along the tree branches. Allowing some to hang down from the branches towards the ground. The effect was almost magical as the sun began to set and the light a little lower, drawing more attention to the lit tree. 

As Inuyasha reached the end of the aisle with his mother he stopped. Izayoi withdrew her arm from his before stretching up and placing a kiss on his cheek. She gave him a tender smile before moving to take the empty seat beside his father.

Moving to take his place beside Miroku, Inuyasha clasped his hands tightly together in front of him. His nerves spiked as his senses were suddenly overwhelmed, finally feeling Kagome’s presence nearby again.

Oh, how he had missed it, the feel of her gentle, loving presence brushing up against his. Her smiling face, her love filled eyes as she looked at him with adoration. He was hard pressed to believe that they had only spent a night apart, it felt like it had been days, weeks, years even. His yearning for her had grown so strong that when she stepped out from the tent flap beside her mother all breath and coherent thought left him. 

She was the most divine creature he had ever laid eyes on. He glanced over her. Yes, the dress was beautiful and her hair was nice but he was more interested in her face. The brightness in her face and the smile that showed her absolute happiness of the moment. It spread to him, her joy, and he felt it reach him deep down into his soul, soothing his youkai.

He noticed the tightening of her hand wrapped around her bouquet, the catch in her breath and the speed of her already rapidly beating heart kick up a notch when she glanced up and met his eye. Hers a warm chocolate from a distance but he knew them intimately. Knew that they held many shades, shades of whiskey and a crystallized honey. Eyes focus solely on him, the bright gleam in her eyes only for him. Eyes that saw everything of him, that pierced through any gruffiness he might have had at the world and saw straight through to him. 

When Kagome and her mother reached him, he stepped forward, placing a kiss on her mother’s cheek before taking Kagome’s hand and leading her the rest of the way to the front. As they stopped in front of Totosai, his father’s long time friend, they turned to face each other. Kagome, still smiling and Inuyasha suspected that he had a goofy grin planted on his face. 

Totosai spoke a few words of welcome to their guests, speaking the meaning of marriage and how happy he was that Kagome and Inuyasha were coming together; but Inuyasha didn’t hear the words, all his attention on Kagome. Inuyasha’s mind finally registered the words that were being spoken when Totosai spoke again.

“Kagome and Inuyasha have asked to incorporate a handfasting into their ceremony. And have asked that Inuyasha’s father, Touga, step forward and honor them in officiating the ritual.”

Inuyasha’s attention was drawn away from Kagome for the first time since she had appeared from underneath the tent to walk down the aisle. He glanced over at his father, who was rising from his seat amongst the front row, surprise clearly written on his face as he straightened his coat. Kagome and himself had decided not to mention including the handfasting into their ceremony to anyone other than Totosai, wanting it to be a surprise and a gift for his father. 

Handfasting was an old tradition, something developed not from their heritage but was adopted early on in youkai society as an additional symbol of a soul bonded match. It was considered a great honor among youkai to be chosen by a bonded couple to perform the ritual. 

As Touga walked around the couple, Totosai pulled him aside. They talked in hushed murmurs for a few moments before separating and Totosai stepped off to the side, standing near Miroku, with a smile on his face. Touga took his place behind the couple, facing them and the gathering, holding three satin cords in one clawed hand. 

Though he had to clear his throat before beginning, Touga spoke loudly and clearly. “Though not originating from the youkai, handfasting was quickly developed into mating and marriage ceremonies as a perfect outward display of a soul bond. It is considered extremely fortuitous and rare to find your soulmate as well as a blessing to witness the joining. I am beyond honored to stand before you all as I guide my son and my new daughter into their union.”

Turning his attention back to the couple, Touga spoke to them. “If you would join right hands, please.”

Kagome turned, handing off her bouquet to Sango before turning back to Inuyasha and offering up her right hand. Inuyasha gently clasped it with his own, his eyes roving her face, taking in every detail.

“With full awareness, know that before this gathering of witnesses you are not only declaring your intent to be bound before your friends and family, but also by joining hands you are representing your willingness in the union, if one of you is unwilling to be bound to the other, please now lower your hand.”

Inuyasha and Kagome both held on tighter, staring into each other’s eyes as they spoke together. “We are both aware and willing.”

Inuyasha turned his attention to their clasped hands as Touga laid one of the satin cords, in a vibrant shade of forest green, across Inuyasha’s wrist. “This cord represents Kagome’s commitment and acceptance of Inuyasha in the union. Kagome, would you like to say a few words to Inuyasha?” 

Kagome glanced at Touga, nodding slightly before turning and looking into the pools of melted honey that were Inuyasha’s eyes. “Inuyasha, we’ve been best friends for twenty-one years and you’ve been the love of my life for a dozen of those. That night when we were eight and you convinced me to sneak out of my house to watch the meteor storm with you, we both made a wish. And I think it’s finally time to share my wish with you; I wished for us to be able to stay together forever. My wish is coming true and that makes me the happiest-” The emotions clogged her throat and she covered her mouth with her free hand for a moment as she took a ragged breath. When Inuyasha squeezed her hand in support and encouragement she cleared her throat and looked back up to him with tear filled eyes. “The happiest person in the world. Inuyasha, I promise to always love and respect you. To support you and cherish you. And I promise to try to be everything to you that you have always been to me.”

Kagome looked to the side as Sango stepped up beside her, offering up Inuyasha’s ring on the palm of her hand. It hadn’t been hard to figure out a way to mix the traditional handfasting with the modern wedding ceremony. Taking the ring in her left hand, she turned back to Inuyasha as he offered his left to her underneath their clasped hands. As she slid the cool platinum band onto his finger he kept his gaze on her face, and when her watery eyes flicked back up and meet his, he mouthed ‘I love you,’ and she beamed, the motion spilling her tears out of the corners of her eyes to track down her cheeks. 

Touga laid the crimson satin cord across Kagome’s wrist. “This cord represents Inuyasha’s commitment and acceptance of Kagome in the union. Inuyasha, a few words?”

Inuyasha took in a deep breath, he had written vows but they seemed a cheap imitation to what he knew his heart wanted to say. The breath he had been holding came out shakily as he slowly released it. He had so much he wanted to say and he was afraid he’d say it wrong. She had said such wonderful things that caused a warmth to bloom in his chest and he was the one that always fumbled for the right thing to say when it mattered most. 

But he knew. He knew. 

That no matter what he said in this moment, Kagome would know. She would know what he was trying to say, what he wanted to convey, what was in his heart. She always knew, she always understood, she knew him better than he knew himself.

“Kagome, you have been my entire focus and ever present constant since I looked out the window twenty years ago and saw a little girl fierce in her determination to make it from the car to the house on her own. I think even then I knew, I sensed something within me reaching out to you, urging me to befriend you, protect you, love you. I’m happy with the man I’ve become and that’s all because of you; because of your gentle hand and your guiding words. The strength and kindness of your heart never ceases to amaze me. I strive to be as good to you as you have always been to me. I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bare on your own.” 

Inuyasha looked down as a hand appeared at his side, Kagome’s delicate rose gold band lay on Miroku’s open hand. Inuyasha plucked the ring off his friend’s palm, mindful of his claws. When he turned back to Kagome she had more tears on her cheeks but her smile was dazzling, warm, accepting, and happy. Her offered left hand was already waiting for him, as he slid the ring onto her finger, he felt the youkai within him sturing. The need to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away from prying eyes and finally claim her as his mate washed through him with such force that he had a hard time resisting. But when his father began speaking again, he tried to tamp down even harder on the urge, knowing that later that night, Kagome would be his in every way possible. 

“This cord represents their union, the joining of not only Inuyasha and Kagome but of each side’s family coming together.” Touga draped the gold cord across the top of their joined hands before moving both the other cords up to rest alongside it. “Today on your wedding day, as you promise to love each other forever, you are holding the hand of your best friend. These are the hands that will work alongside yours as together you built your future.”

 He spoke as he held one side of the strands steady in one hand and began to wrap the other side around it. “These are the hands that will love you and cherish you through the years. These are the hands that will celebrate with you when you feel happy and comfort you when you feel sad.” He tucked one side under the other, pulling to form the knot on top of their clasped hands. One end of the cords dangling down on each side of their hands. “These are the hands that will give you strength and support whenever you need it. As your hands are joined together now, so your hearts will always be.”

Inuyasha and Kagome each took hold of one of the ends of cords, making sure to maintain eye contact. Slowly, they slid their clasped hands along each other’s as they separated them, pulling on the cord ends at the same time. When their hands fell free, the cords came together, forming a tight infinity knot. 

Totosai stepped up beside Touga. “By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Using the cord as leverage, Inuyasha wasted no time in yanking it, pulling Kagome towards him, wrapping his free arm around her waist and crushing her to him. Still maintaining his hold on their cord he pressed his lips to hers. He’d kissed her countless times before, but the tingle of blissful tranquility that flowed through him felt new in a way he could not describe. He moaned slightly at the feeling, deepening the kiss. Stroking his tongue across her lower lip before dipping it inside her parted lips. 

Only when he let out a low possessive growl did he remember the crowd; pulling away just enough so their lips were still touching.

“I love you.” He whispered against her lips.

“I love you, too.”

It was only then that he heard the crowd, they were all cheering and clapping, some rising from their seats. Inuyasha took Kagome’s end of the cords from her, turning and handing the knot over to his father. 

“Guard this for us till later?”

Touga nodded, accepting the duty.

With a large grin Inuyasha tucked Kagome’s arm in the crook of his elbow, beginning to lead her away from their position at the front and down the aisle. His eyes were fixed on his luminous mate even as she watched the crowd, a shy but ecstatic smile on her face. There were a few clicks and flashes of cameras going off but Inuyasha’s attention never wavered. Flower petals rained down upon them, creating a lovely effect but other than causing Inuyasha to blink more often as sone petals hit his face, he never looked away. 

When they reached the end of the aisle, he scooped Kagome up into his arms and quickly dashed off, looking for a place where they could extract a couple of quiet moments to themselves and bask in the joy they were feeling. 

@ruddcatha @superpixie42 @lavendertwilight89 @clearwillow @dawnrider @mamabearcat @fawn-eyed-girl @smmahamazing @bluejay785 @i-dream-of-soup @liz8080 @zelink-inukag @malditamigs @shinidamachu 

[enhypenandpaper]

we never go out of style | jake sim

pairing: Jake Sim x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: descriptions of body image (jake basically checks the reader out), mentions of a diet (jake’s, not the reader’s)

word count: 1.3k

summary: in desperate need of some new clothes, you invite your best friends Jay and Jake on a shopping spree for fashion advice. the day is a success, and while you walk out of the mall with a new outfit, Jake has something new of his own that he’s not sure he can afford.

-

The food court was practically empty.

You and your two best friends were sitting at the cleanest table you had ever seen in a mall; the three of you had last period free, so you were able to get here before the usual mob of high schoolers who left countless straw-wrappers, used napkins, and various unidentifiable foods wherever they went.

The three of you were at the mall because your wardrobe was in desperate need of an update. It was a lot simpler when you were younger, natural growth being an automatic reminder to buy new clothes and change things up. As you got older, it was easier to just throw on the same sweatshirt you wore on your first day of eighth grade and call it a day, which is why you needed some extra motivation in the form of the two boys sitting with you.

“Thanks for coming with me today, guys, I feel like I’ve been cycling through the same three outfits for weeks now.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

You playfully swatted Jay on the arm. He was the only person you would accept this kind of criticism from, him being the resident fashionista of your friend group after all, but it didn’t mean you always liked to hear what he had to say.

“Like you’re any better! At least I get dressed before my morning classes.”

“Changing into a different pair of sweatpants doesn’t count as ‘getting dressed,'” Jay shot back.

“Neither does tossing a $300 sweatshirt on and walking out the door,” Jake, who was sitting across from you, pointed out.

Jake’s comment made you laugh and even pulled a little smile out of Jay. 

“Okay so no sweatshirts and no sweatpants today, that’s the only rule,” you joked, “but everything else is fair game.”

You reached for the bottle of water you had gotten with your meal. No matter how hard you twisted the cap, it wouldn’t budge, even when you pulled your sleeve down over your palm to help.

“Here,” Jake started, “let me-”

Before Jake could finish, Jay plucked the bottle from your hands and opened it with one twist. You and him were unfazed, Jay reaching for a French fry off of Jake’s tray, you taking a sip of your water.

You met Jake’s eyes, noticing his furrowed brows and parted lips; he looked confused.

“What?” You asked, putting the bottle back down on the table.

Jay was staring at him now too, eyebrows raised.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head. “Where are we off to first?”

-

“Y/N! Come over here.”

You made your way over to Jay, his height making it easy to see him over the racks of clothes. You had barely stopped walking before he turned you around and started holding up shirts to your back, trying to figure out your size.

Apparently satisfied with his findings, Jay put three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a thin leather jacket in your arms before turning back around to browse the accessory stand.

“How do you even know Y/N’s jean size?” Jake asked.

Jay just shrugged but you explained, “we’ve gone shopping together before.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Jake said, his voice small.

You frowned, why did he have the same look on his face as he did whenever he was on a diet for soccer and Heeseung ate ramen in front of him?

You were about to ask him what was wrong when Jay was back in front of you, holding various pieces of jewelry up to you and the clothes, trying to figure out what matched best.

“Jay, am I made of money or something? Slow down!”

“I’ll pay for it. Consider it an investment in walking around with better-dressed friends.”

You opened your mouth to argue but your friend had already dashed off, flagging down a store employee to get you a dressing room.

“Do you want me to hold your stuff while you try these on?” Jake offered.

You smiled at the boy, accepting. 

He took your bag from around your wrist, underneath the pile of clothes, and made sure not to graze your skin with his fingers lest he start blushing in front of you.

“Can you grab my phone, too? It’s in my back pocket.”

Jake gulped but did as you asked, his fingers reaching around your waist to grab your phone before slipping it into his own pocket. 

You flashed him another smile before walking over to the employee Jay had found, giving Jake a chance to breathe and find a way to bring the heat in his cheeks down before you came back out.

The two boys took a seat right in front of your dressing room. Jay immediately went to scroll through something on his phone but Jake stopped him.

“Do you guys, like, do this often?”

The question caught Jay off guard. Why did Jake care how often you two went shopping? Did he…?

Realizing what was going on here, Jay tried to comfort him. 

“It’s not really a regular thing, I think they just like my honesty. You don’t have to worry.”

“Worry? I-I…Why would I be worried? I was just… oh.”

Jay moved his head to follow his friend’s gaze.

Jake’s eyes were locked on you as you stepped out of the dressing room. The sight of you was a little too much for him and he needed to remind himself to breathe.

Your shopping trips with Jay obviously paid off because the jeans he picked fit you perfectly, a little too perfectly, hugging your body and making your legs look long, the rips giving Jake a glimpse of your bare skin. The shirt you were wearing emphasized your sharp collarbones, a simple necklace laying between them and disappearing beneath your shirt. The jacket really pulled it all together, the expensive design making you stand with more confidence than usual; it was impossible to look away from you.

Jake wasn’t used to seeing you in clothes like this. Sure, he always thought you looked incredible, but Jay was known for his fashion sense for a reason. He knew exactly what to do to emphasize the parts of your body that had Jake’s jaw practically on the floor.

“How does it look?” You asked tentatively. You thought you looked good but the awestruck look on Jake’s face was making you nervous. Either he really liked the clothes or had never seen something so horrifying in his life, it was hard to tell.

Jay, however, was smirking, obviously satisfied with his work. You looked cool and confident and everything fit you nicely. The necklace he had picked was a little long for the shirt you were wearing, but he decided it was a job well done anyway.

“Great,” Jake squeaked before clearing his throat. “It looks really good.”

Relieved, you turned away from your two friends to inspect the clothes in the floor-length mirror off to the side.

Jay nudged the boy next to him with his elbow.

“Dude, you’re staring.”

Jake snapped out of it and looked down at his shoes to hide the blush that was apparently going nowhere.

Jay had to keep himself from laughing at his friend, he had never seen Jake so flustered before. 

After changing back into your original clothes you walked out to join your friends, all of Jay’s findings in your hands.

“Does it all fit?”

“Yeah, that one top is a little low-cut but-”

“Perfect! I’ll go take care of it,” Jay decided, taking everything from you and practically dashing away, leaving you and Jake alone.

“Are you sure everything looked okay? I mean, I trust Jay, but just because an outfit looks good doesn’t mean it will look good on me, you know?”

“Y/N, you looked really good,” his hand went up to rub the back of his neck. “Well, you always do, but especially in that outfit.”

Now it was your turn to blush.

“Honestly, you even looked kind of intimidating in that jacket.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Are you saying you’re afraid of me, Sim?” You joked.

Jake just laughed at your words, not sure how to explain that while he wasn’t afraid of you, the feelings he had for you were definitely a little terrifying. 

-

A/N: This is obviously a lot shorter than “join me in the sky” but I hope you guys still enjoy it! I feel like Jake would get really shy around his crush lol and when this idea popped into my head I knew it was the perfect opportunity to write about blushy Jake!

[sergeantsporks]

Nowhere Else to Go

Rating: Teen, Gen

Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death.

TW: Self-harm, mentioned child abuse, emotional manipulation

Chapter 2/4: Curses and Glyphs

Ch 1

“You know those are fake, right?”

At Emperor Belos’ voice, Lilith surged upwards, creating a blade of ice and pointing it at him. He went cross-eyed looking at the point that was touching his nose, and she lowered it. Slowly. “Apologies. I keep forgetting that it’s you.” She glanced at the texts on the coffee table. “I know. That doesn’t mean it’s all lies, though. There may be some truth to it. I shouldn’t discount any source until I’m sure it’s all false.”

He sat down cross-legged on the floor, sliding one of the books over to his side and flipping through it. “Where did all of this junk come from?”

“My mother. She was desperate to find a cure for Edalyn, and she… fell for quite a few scams.”

“Mmm.” Hunter scanned the pages, then froze. “Who owned this before your mother?”

“I don’t know. Some con artist. Why?”

Hunter turned the book around and jabbed a finger at the corner of the page. “Wild witch magic. There’s a glyph here.”

Lilith snatched it up. “Lemme see.” Sure enough, there was a glyph sequence at the bottom of the page. “Hmmm.” She sketched the glyphs on a piece of paper. “Alright, let’s see what this does!”

Hunter grabbed her wrist. “Wait, we don’t know what it’s capable of!”

Lilith yanked away. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“It could be dangerous!”

“I doubt it.”

“This is how you burned down the library! It’s wild magic, it’s unpredictable and—”

Lilith snorted. “Now you really sound like Belos.”

Hunter jolted upright. “Don’t—”

Lilith grabbed his wrist. “C’mere.” She pulled his hand closer to the glyph, and he tensed. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

“I—I don’t have any magic, it won’t—”

“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Lilith tapped his hand on the glyph. It glowed gently, and spheres made of ice floated into the air, glowing and making sparkling patterns on the walls.

Lilith’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

Hunter yanked his hand away, and the ice crashed to the ground. “You shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have—it’s wild magic, it’s forbidden and—”

“That’s Belos talking. You don’t work for him anymore. You don’t have to listen to what he said. Wild magic isn’t anything to be scared of—it’s dangerous, yes, of course, anything powerful is, but it’s also... hope.” She shrugged. “Have you ever been able to do magic without a staff before?”

Hunter looked at the fallen ice, then slowly sat back down next to her. “…can you… show me again? I read some books, but I—I’ve never—it’s forbidden, and I—”

“And you were a good little soldier, I know. Very loyal. To a bit of a fault.”

His ears turned red. It was… incredibly odd, seeing Belos like this. Just a scared kid. Lilith sketched a light glyph. “Try this one. It’s easy—just a light glyph. Nothing to be scared of.”

Hunter tapped it, and it floated up, a twinkling light illuminating the cursed slime taking over his face. “…huh.”

“Does that look dangerous to you?”

“…I guess not.” Hunter sketched his own and tapped it. Nothing happened. He sighed. “Guess I should have known. I can’t do magic on my own.”

Lilith sketched light glyph after light glyph, pushing them sideways across the table for him to touch and activate. Despite his melancholy, he did, creating constellations, glittering masterpieces over heir heads. “That’s because you’re thinking of magic as something you have to do on your own. I didn’t create these glyphs—I didn’t even discover them. Luz found them, she taught them to me. And she didn’t create them, either—she simply followed the patterns in nature. None of us use our magic on our own—the isles gave us this gift, showed us the way.” She sketched one last light glyph and pushed it over to him. “Maybe you can’t do magic on your own, but no one can.”

He didn’t activate the last glyph, and she glanced over. He was staring into space, his eyes unfocused. “Hunter? Are you—”

He made a choking noise and fell over to the side, gagging and coughing. The slime that was taking over his face came out of his mouth, and a jolt of panic ran down Lilith’s spine.

“Hold on!”

He whined, coughing up more slime as she ran for the kitchen, sliding back down next to him with a bottle of elixir. She tilted it into his mouth, rubbing his throat to make him swallow. Hunter hacked and coughed some more, and she sat him up so he could breathe easier.

“Your arms,” he wheezed.

She looked down. Feathers had started poking out. “Ah.” She went back to the kitchen, sipping her own bottle of elixir. When she went back, he was hiding behind the couch again, his knees drawn up to his chest. “I… didn’t know how bad Belos’ curse was,” she said softly.

He looked to the side. “He didn’t let many people see him vulnerable,” he replied matter-of-factly.

Lilith slid down to sit next to him. “Neither did you.”

“I’m not vulnerable. I mean—I am in this slime-sack, but I wasn’t.”

“Mmm.” Lilith twisted the ends of her hair in her hands. “When I was a kid, my mother never paid attention to me. And then when I joined the emperor’s coven, it was… the opposite. People paid attention. If I made them. If I earned it. I had to fight hard for approval, but I could get that scrap of approval, the attention that my mother never gave me. And in a way… I think that was worse. You, me, Kikimora, always at each other’s throats. Trying to take each other down to get Belos’ approval. Maybe if we’d ever stopped fighting each other, we would have realized that we could have helped each other. Maybe if we’d stopped seeing each other as the enemy, life… could have been better. For me. Certainly for you.”

“I was fine.”

“You were alive. But you weren’t fine, none of us were. None of us could be fine in that situation. Kikimora’s still not fine, she’s top dog now that we’re both gone, I’m sure, but she’ll spend every second paranoid that someone else is coming for her power.”

Hunter rested his chin on his knees. “Maybe you weren’t fine. Maybe you were unhappy, maybe you struggled. But Belos cared about me.  He was happy I was there, I was useful. I was special.”

Lilith sighed. “We went over this, Hunter. He was using you. Your ‘special’ ness? Was the fact that he could take your body. Belos doesn’t care about any of us. He never did. Would you be here now if he really cared about you?”

He looked away again. “Whatever. You wouldn’t get it.”

Lilith stood up. “No. You’re right. I wouldn’t. Belos was using me, but in my mind, I was using him, too. I thought I could get him to do what I wanted, to heal my sister. I never had the same devotion to him you did. I had Edalyn—maybe I was wrong in how I treated her, maybe I was a bad sister, but at least I had something to live for other than those fleeting moments of approval from Belos. I’m surprised you even came here after Belos threw you out. I’d think you’d still be at his side like a kicked dog, still begging for a pat on the head.” She moved back towards the kitchen. She should probably store some elixir around the house like Eda had for her, so that he could get to it in time if another attack hit him. “But… I suppose I’m glad you’re not. Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Hunter.

Xxx

Lilith couldn’t sleep. It happened a lot since the curse—she woke up, unfortunately usually with a craving for voles that meant it was probably time to take another elixir. She shambled out into the hallway, and was about to create light when she realized she could see. There was a soft glow coming from Eda’s old room, and she padded over, pushing open the door to see Hunter poring over the scam healing books, a ball of light floating above him.

“Wow, no wonder the bags under your eyes are so bad. What are you doing up this late?”

“Reading.”

“Hilarious. Couldn’t sleep?”

Hunter rubbed at his eyes. “What if I have another attack when I’m asleep? I’ll choke on slime and die, and I’ll just… never wake up. And you’re asleep, and your mother is asleep—if Belos attacks us, we’re sitting ducks!”

“And you’d do what, exactly? Cough up slime at him? You’re just running yourself ragged.” She nudged him with one foot. “C’mon, let’s go downstairs before we wake up Mother.”

He trudged after her, tripping over his own feet and knocking into her from behind. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry. I’m just… still not used to this body.”

“’s fine.” Lilith put the kettle on, a ball of light hovering over her shoulder. “Find anything interesting in those books?”

“They’re mostly junk. But I did find a couple more glyphs! I’d need you to test them, though, I still can’t do it on my own—I had to use that last glyph you drew for light. It’s really strange finding them, though, because Belos heavily restricted all wild magic. Luz only found the glyphs by studying nature—it’s odd to find them in some scam book. But your sister was considered a criminal, too, and a wild witch, and she probably ran a scam or two like this. Makes me wonder if maybe there’s some kind of… I don’t know, underground scam group of wild witches? I know there are wild witches out there, but the idea of there being a wider group, not just a few loners floating around is—” he shrank back into himself. “Never mind. It’s too late—you don’t want to hear about it, I’m sure—”

Lilith poured the boiling water into a pair of mugs. “No, go on, I’m listening. I asked. An underground group of wild witches? It would be hard to hide that from Belos. How do the scam books fit into it?”

“Code? Or maybe a lot of the wild witches use scamming people as a smokescreen to keep Belos from figuring out that they’re actually part of a wider wild coven?”

“A wild coven. There’s a concept. I know Eda jokes about her ‘bad girls coven’ but…”

“They’d know glyph patterns beyond what you can piece together on your own, like the one we did earlier. If we could find them—”

Lilith set a mug of tea down in front of him and sipped her own. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. A few glyphs in a scam healing book doesn’t mean there’s a whole secret society out there. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t. But we don’t have enough information to go charging out chasing shadows. Careful with that, it’s hot.”

Hunter sipped at the tea. “Okay. Okay, fine. But if there is, they might know spells we don’t—maybe how to lift curses.”

Oh. “Hunter, I… maybe. But please, please, please don’t pin all of your hopes on it.”

“I… don’t know what else to pin my hopes on. Belos spent years trying to remove his curse. The only thing he wouldn’t accept is wild magic, so if there’s a cure, it must be there!”

“Okay. It’s too late now to look into it, though. Let’s… try some of those new glyph combos?”

He nodded and followed her into the living room. It was still… disconcerting. After all, that was a full adult body, and an old one at that. But most of the time, despite the old appearance, Lilith could easily imagine him as a child. It was something about the way his face moved, the way he talked. The way he held himself. It was missing the usual bravado of the Golden Guard she’d known, but still seemed so familiar.

Hunter sketched the glyph patterns on a piece of paper, and Lilith copied it. She pushed it to him. “You go.”

He tapped it, and explosion went off. Hunter yelped and jumped backwards as Lilith snorted. “You did that on purpose!”

“I did not! Probably an experimental glyph that didn’t work out. Edalyn tried a few of those. Glyph combos can be tricky.”

Hunter rubbed soot off of his face. “Told you it was dangerous!”

“Everything on the boiling isles is dangerous.”

“Yeah, but—” Hunter broke off coughing, ooze coating his hand. “Hngh—”

Lilith pushed the papers to the side. “That’s enough excitement for one night, I think. You need to go to sleep.”

She helped him stumble his way up the stairs and back to Eda’s room, sitting him back down on the bed. “Now sleep.”

He curled up in an exhausted ball. Lilith extinguished the light with a sigh. How did Eda take care of a kid all of the time? Did Luz stay up all night, too? Lilith went back downstairs and started a letter to Hooty.

Dear Hootsifer,

The Golden Guard is at my house. I need you to let Edalyn know—Belos has switched bodies with him. It’s… odd, having him around. He’s not as much of a brat as I remember. The problem is, Belos was suffering from a curse. And I’m relatively certain that it’s fatal. I don’t know how much time Hunter has left. I wish I could help him, but I don’t even know where to start. I wish you were here—you’ve had Luz in the house for so long, I’m sure you could help with this one.

Love, Lilith

Lilith sighed, and went back up the stairs, briefly poking her head into Eda’s room. Hunter was still curled up in a ball, but… something was wrong. He was all tensed up, and she thought she heard a strangled whimper. Lilith crept into the room, sitting down next to him. “Hunter?” she said in a low voice.

He started awake, grabbing her hand. “No!”

“Hunter, it’s just me, you’re okay—”

“I didn’t mean to, it’s not my f-faul—” He squeezed tighter, then fell back asleep, twitching.

Lilith shook her head, but didn’t pry her hand out of his grasp.

What did Belos do to you?

Ch 3

[2021fuckitup]

“ WE GET HIGH WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS”

Helpful hints for newborn to old fuckers...

Why A Torch Lighter Is Ideal:-Your product liquifies, then smokes, almost instantly

-It is MUCH easier to control the direction the meth flows, as well as what is receiving heat

-You can get MUCH bigger hits

-You can avoid burning it so much easier than with other flames

-No flickering flame

-Butane refills are cheap as fucking shit (I got a hairspray-sized bottle of Zippo butane for the price of 2 disposable lighters)

-Don’t burn your thumb as much

-Sessions can be initiated and/or finished faster

Downsides-If you don’t pay attention, you can burn the shit out of your product, or yourself. BE CAREFUL, PAY ATTENTION, AND BE PATIENT

-Smoke through your stash quicker

-Possibly worse burns because its hotter than a bic

How to smoke meth with torch lighter for beginners:

1)First ensure that your pipe is clean.

Why?

For the ice to smoke properly. DO NOT load fresh product in a pipe with product that has been smoked, burned, or otherwise heated. If you load fresh on top of a still smokable bowl, the new and old will melt/smoke at different speeds/temperatures (can’t remember which is which right now, but I think old smokes faster), ensuing that it is very difficult to evenly heat the product. Then you get spots where part of the crystalized mass liquifies and will move with the flame, but some of it needs more heat, and for me at least, some always gets burned or darkened, and has a bad taste. If you load fresh product in a pipe with burnt shit in there, IT WILL TASTE LIKE SHIT. It will often also not melt/smoke right, AND your new stuff will taste like burnt stuff, which is THE WORST taste in the world (IM0). (FYI-I’ve heard that blowing cigarette smoke through a oil pipe (like you were going to hit it, but exhaling smoke through it instead) removes the taste. I have tried with pot smoke and it didn’t work, but have read many people say that cigarettes work.

How to Clean the Inside of A Pipe-If it is not clean, a very easy method is to fill a microwavable container (like a coffee mug) with 50% water, 50% bleach, and put the pipe (bowl facing downwards) in the water.

-Put it in the microwave for 4 minutes (yes, seriously that long-I tried after 1, 2, and 3 minutes and it didn’t work. May even take 5.)

-Let cool. Once cooled, remove from mug and drain all water.

-Using Q-tips, insert through carb hole and “mop up” the stuff left in the bowl. This may take several qtips depending on the bowl. If there is still black/brown stuff in the bowl, apply more pressure

(be careful not to break the bowl by pressing the q tip too hard on the sphere, OR accidentally pressing on the side of the carb when trying to reach around inside with q tip.) If there is still stuff in there, I have read that small bits of Magic Eraser stuffed in, and manipulated with a pole (like a q tip) work wonders, but also have not tried.

How to Clean the Outside of a PiPE

-Using a wet rag, or balled-up wet paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc, rub the outside of the bowl. This should cause the stuff on the outside to transfer onto the paper.

-If this doesn’t work, steel wool may work.

Handling/Prepping Product

-Dont handle meth by hand. It’s bad for your skin, and little amounts will dissolve. Instead, use:

Ideally: a 7/11 straw (this is a straw whose last inch or so is a scoop, sometimes used for slurpees or w/e those frozen drinks are; these straws I have found to be ideal for handling all sorts of drugs).

Realistically: Normal Straw: Straw been sealed on one end (tape, seal it with flame), and on the other has a 45 degree angle (45 degree is diagonal; if you cut a square in half diagonally, the diagonal line is 45). This allows you to scoop small fragments out of a bag, tin, or other carrying device easily, as the angled mouth scoops up crumbs, especially in corners of bags; while the sealed back prevents any from accidentally spilling.

Size/Shape

-Make sure your product is all of the same consistency. I find it best to use one crystal, preferably large (but not to large). I find the size of a tic tac, or slightly larger, to be ideal. Also, cubic or rectangular is best possible shape IME. I will often break long, skinny crystals because they dont burn as well as more square ones, and broken into small squares, they will smoke more evenly.

-While you can load bigger crystals with smaller bits/shake, I generally find it is best to load similar sized rocks. That is, load all shake, load two or three crystals of equal size, or put one crystal in there (usually a big one).

-If you need to break a crystal into smaller bits to make equal sized crystals (or to make odd shaped crystal more square), place a sanitary, nonabsorbent material on top of/around the crystal (no dollars bills here, printer paper works great.) and either snap it in two, or push against a surface. If pressing, you can use a finger, debit card, whatever, just slowly apply more pressure so you can crush to consistency of your liking. If you crush it all the way, you have shake(aka powder).

Differences Between Methods

Single Crystal (often large): Crystal will slowly lose mass as it melts, evenly becoming a pool (as long as you thoroughly spread it around the bowl).

Multiple Little Ones: If you evenly heat them: Will slowly melt into each other. Will be left with a very spread-out puddle, possibly multiple spread out ones.

If unevenly heated: There will be areas meth of varying thickness, accompanied by uneven melting and probable darkening/burning,.

Shake: Will liquify very quickly; little bits that haven’t yet been heated may go to weird parts of the bowl when you begin twisting, so you end up with tiny blotches and a single large or a few smaller puddles.

Loading Product

-Using straw, scoop your product into the chamber. Keeping upright, grab oil pipe and tilt at an angle so that the carb is pointing sideways, or angled down slightly. This will allow you to insert straw opening into carb before tipping the straw, ensuring you don’t miss the hole and lose any.

-Once inserted, twist pipe (while holding onto straw of course) until carb is once again pointing up. Tap straw to get all the little bits into the pipe (if meth is still sticking, use a scraper of some kind).

-Remove straw, and put pipe on level surface, BETWEEN TWO OBJECTS. THE PIPE WILL ROLL PEOPLE, AND WILL SPILL ALL YOUR GODDAMN PRODUCT AND/OR FALL ON THE FLOOR AND BREAK. UGH!

Now that you have a loaded pipe, ensure that you are ready to begin. Suggestions include

-Water

(lots of it!!) Both meth and smoking dehydrate you, and the more dehydrated you are, the more you will suffer from dental damage and brain damage (neurotoxicity). A large amount of methamphetamine neurotoxicity (and most dopamine toxicity) is temperature-dependent, as it often induces hyperthermia (This is similar to MDMA, aka XTC, Molly, rolls, etc). Water cools your body.

You should be urinating with irritating frequency, and should be voiding clear urine, otherwise you are already dehydrated (unless taking assloads of vitamins or something).

-Music

I can’t even describe how much music enhances the experience of smoking meth. It synergizes well-the meth makes the music sound insane, and in turn the music intensifies the high, making me feel even more intelligent/strong/attractive/cool/special. This is the part of the high I crave, and it rarely occurs (at least with the intensity I like) without music.

-Spare lighter/butane refill

When smoking meth, you are always running out of fuel. The spare lighter is also useful because lighters get really hot when ignited for long periods of time (like when smoking meth) and you can swap them out.

-Wet (but not sopping) rag or bundled tissues/paper towels/toilet paper/etc

This is to set the pipe on when not using it (a hot pipe will burn fabrics, fucking up whatever its on as well as the pipe), and to cool down the pipe after a hit. The pipe stays hot for a while, and if you don’t hit it, drugs are being lost/wasted. If you cool the pipe, it will stop heating the drugs faster (duh). Do not do this immediately after getting the pipe really hot-heat and cold on glass can break it. Wait for it to cool slightly, then use it.

When you use the rag to cool underneath liquified dope, it will emit a lot of smoke while crystalizing I read somewhere that the meth actually vaporizes/produces smoke when it hits cooler surface, but I don’t know the validity of that. I do know that cold makes it smoke more though.

-Salt Water

Swishing and gargling salt water while smoking meth (ie after a hit, and definitely after a session) will help prevent canker sores, help kill bacteria (which will inhibit meth mouth) clear mucus in back of throat (which will build up from smoking ice, and may possibly absorb some of it), and prevent sore throat. Its really easy-just add table salt to water (not too much). Some people say to use hot water, but there is more bacteria in hot water pipes, so I use cold.

-Biotene Products

These are oral healthcare products designed to combat dry mouth. There is an oral gel that you kind of spread in your mouth and coats it to act like a artificial saliva. It tastes kinda bad (not awful) and feels weird, but it beats dry/cracking skin, and is good for oral health. They also make alcohol-free (alcohol makes dry mouth worse) mouthwash that I find makes me produce a bnch of saliva for like 10-30 minutes, which can be helpful. They have toothpaste, but that is only to not irritate dry mouth. Finally, they have oral mouthspray, which is apparently the best, but I have not tried yet.

-Weed

Weed makes meth smoking more fun I find. Its hard to describe. Go slow as you may have negative anxiety reaction

Positioning:

The pipe will need to be twisted back and forth, so for me, I hold it in the middle of the stem between my middle finger and thumb. This allows me to easily roll the pipe back and forth. The carb is facing the sky/ceiling, and I have the pipe slanted, so the bowl is slightly closer to the floor than the mouthpiece. This allows me to put my index finger over the mouthpiece. so that when I first heat up the bowl all the initial smoke (that you will not yet inhale because it is not super thick and you want to build up a good hit) goes up the stem and is trapped by my finger rather than out through the little carb hole (which it will do when the stem is filled with smoke). Finally, it also allows me to use my pinky to cover the carb (I rarely do this because often the carb is hot).

Lighter

[Torch] Lighter is held in the other hand, underneath the dope in the bowl. Adjust your flame to lowest setting (if you can). While initially hitting the bowl, since your mouth is not on the mouthpiece, you can hold the pipe in front of you while you heat to gaug distance between flame and bowl, and make sure the flame is under the drugs. However, once you begin inhaling, you have a much worse view (through the bowl), and it is easy to hold the lighter too close (or far, but usually close), or to have it not even under the bowl. Due to poor depth perception (which I assume is from the drugs), or some visual warping from the curvature of the glass, its really easy to do this, and happens a lot. A mirror is helpful so you can see yourself. Another option is attaching flexible tubing (like aquarium tubing) to the mouthpiece so you can inhale through that while holding the pipe in front of you. This will also enable you to make meth bongs (search it).

Philosophy of Smoking Meth

Meth becomes a clear liquid when heated, then vaporizes into a white smoke. The idea is to heat whatever you placei n the pipe evenly so that it all melts down to liquid, then, by twisting the pipe, spread the liquid all around the bowl, so that it doesn’t stay in a hot place for too long and burn. Once liquified, the pipe can be twisted. This allows you to put your flame ahead of the liquid (think of the liquid chasing the flame), so that once the glass is heated, it will fall/roll down the curve towards your lighter and smoke. As you get close carb, you begin to twist the other way, keeping the liquid following your flame. However, with a torch lighter, you can soon twist the pipe without the flame and the liquid will still run for a while, and when it doesn’t is when you reapply the flame.

Quick Info On Torch Lighters

Torch lighters are very hot, much hotter than bics. Their flame is much more intense, and the heat above is much hotter than a bic. Therefore, you must keep much more distance between your lighter and pipe than with a bic. It will vary according to lighter type, pipe thickness, and especially flame size; but my flame is maybe between 1/3 and ½ of an inch, and my lighter stays 1-3 inches away from the pipe; with me increasing distance the longer its lit.

-Also, you do not heat the bowl with a torch lighter for long periods of time like you do a bic. Once it begins to smoke, quit using the lighter, and only reapply once the liquid quits moving when you twist the pipe. Also, be sure to twist pipe while lighting the whole time with a torch lighter, even if it is slowly. You cannot really get away with heating in one spot for a short period of time like you can with a bic.

Smoking

Premelt:

-Keeping your flame 1-2 inches below the bowl, roll flame in a circle around the perimeter of your product, so the outermost portion begins to liquify. Remember to continue moving the flame.

-As it begins to liquify, begin twisting the pipe back and forth. You want to heat the edges of the product and then the glass adjacent to the edges to make it flow there. However, when reversing the direction of the twist, make sure to heat the inside/middle for a moment as well so that it will melt once the dope bordering it has melted.

-Eventually you will have a puddle of liquid that is mobile-stop heating! COntinue to twist the pipe to spread the stuff around and wait for it to recrystalize (turn back into a liquid). You can speed this up by touching pipe with damp rag/paper towels/etc, but I like to let it cool by itself the first time. Wait for the pipe to cool down-its worth it.

Smoking

(this is assuming you are covering the mouthpiece and have the pipe angled like I mentioned in positioning)

-Now you should have a thin puddle of clear crystals stuff. Once again, heat with flame around the perimeter (much bigger this time, but it will also melt faster now because its thinner). Once melted, it should soon begin to smoke. Cease lighting once it begins smoking a fair bit and continue to twist.

-Because you have your finger over the mouthpiece and the pipe angled, the hot vapor will travel up the stem, and be trapped. Once vapor begins to emerge out of the carb hole, quickly take your finger off the stem and begin inhaling (do this quick because the stem is filled with vapor).

To Inhale:

You do not need to actually suck most of the time. With the pipe angled, simply forming a seal on the mouthpiece is usually enough, and if you have to inhale, do not suck like smoking. Instead, inhale like you are breathing but VERY slowly/softly. It takes very little pressure and the bigger hit you get, the better IMO.

Reheating

Use the torch for very brief periods of time. Once the liquid is moving and smoking agian, stop. You can also use more, but never use less once its burned.

Finishing your hit:

If your lungs are full and it is still smoking, cover the carb and mouthpiece and continue twisting. I like to hold my hits for 4-8 seconds, some say blow out right away, but I dont like that. You can also use a damp rag or damp paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc and wipe the bowl, to cool it down and make the liquid recrystalize faster (dont do this when the bowl is still super hot because it can break it). This will make it smoke a lot for a second so I like to do it while inhaling.

For Experienced Users:I have found the torch lighter to be far superior to the bic. With the bic, I would experience uneven and slow heating/melting. Now, I have almost instantaneous liquification, followed by thick smoke, and as long as I use the torch sparingly, no darkening of product. The trick is to be patient and methodical:

-Use the torch 1-3 inches away from the bowl

-Move it quickly

-“Encourage” the liquid to trael all over the bowl by leading it with the flame

-Use inward swirling movements, especially during the melting phase

-I recommend using single, squareish crystals for this.

[strikethematch18]

Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 2

After your shower which made you feel a little better than before as the act of cleaning the accruing sweat and radiating germs from your body. Your next step was hoisting yourself out of the shower base and to a position you can dry your body and get dressed. This would be an awfully awkward thing for your teacher to help you with, so this task left you on your own. 

It took a little bit of time and effort but eventually, you did manage to dry your body. The next step was to put the fresh clothes Aizawa left for you on your body, they were definitely comfortable and comforting. This took a little less bit of energy but still took a lot. After sitting for a moment on the seat on the toilet you stood up to face your weakness and the overpowering world spinning. 

You open the door to the bathroom quietly and slowly make your way down a hallway holding on to the wall for added support. It wasn’t long until you heard the quick steps of your professor coming from what you could assume was the kitchen in order to give you added support and led you over to a couch already made with pillows and a new blanket which made you frown slightly.

In your moment of help, you couldn’t help feeling a little guilty, “Y/N, you should have gotten my attention, and I would have been helped you sooner so you didn’t exert nearly as much energy and strength.”

Picking up on your frown Azaiwa said, “it’s just in the wash, I figured it would help and it would make it a little softer. Same thing with your clothes”

“Oh okay, thanks,” you responded weakly.

He stood in front of you and crouched down to your sitting level, “Do you think you could eat a little soup for me kid? It’s chicken noodle so it’s going to be easy on you. I know you’re not the biggest rice fan.”

Aware that you hadn’t eaten in a few days you responded, “Yeah I can try.”

As he walks away you begin to acknowledge how cold you feel but you know it’s a drawback of your fever. Truthfully you didn’t want to eat anything, what you wanted was to curl up in that blanket and sleep, but you weren’t about to let Azaiwas cooking efforts go to waste, and you putting it off any longer probably wouldn’t help your case either, so complying seemed like your best option here. In your slowed thinking you hadn’t realized Azaiwa was just arriving in front of you holding two bowls preparing to hand one to you.

You took the bowl with the spoon in it and were surprised to see your teacher taking a seat in front of you on the floor looking up at you with his own soup which confused you slightly. Had you not been sick and unable to concentrate or focus you may be able to comprehend what he was doing.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to eat by yourself, makes it a little less awkward, plus I’m a little hungry myself,” he said in his gruff normal monotone voice.

“Thanks for that, it actually means a lot,” you replied before taking a spoonful of the soup and eating it.

The meal took place in silence, you slowly eating your chicken noodle soup not wanting to rush yourself as you weren’t really all that hungry plus it felt like a lot of food. As Azaiwa eats his own he examines you in your sick form, He couldn’t help but feel responsible for this, he did push his students as far as they could but he didn’t see just how much he was taking and pushing Y/N. He tried not to show favoritism among his students, but he couldn’t help but care for you as though you were his own child. Really he just wanted you to be happy.

Spooning soup into his mouth, he began to think about the information he had read in your file over the years. He knew that your home life wasn’t all that great. Evidence that you were often left alone for days alone with no real-life knowledge of how to take care of yourself and a house. Your mom was an alcoholic and would have repeating men over that would verbally abuse you, and you did live with anxiety and major depression, but you didn’t know that he knew, all because it was in your student file. He remembered that he is going to have to do some updating to it now that he knows symptoms of the overuse of your quirk.

He noticed you had put your bowl in your lap looking down as though you were deep in thought, perhaps even getting down on yourself. Until he saw that you managed to eat only half the soup he had given you. As he quickly finished his bowl he then proceeded to stand up and gently take the bowl from you.

“Hey kid, it’s alright, you managed to eat something, we can do this again later when you feel up to it okay? I’m proud you made it this far.”

You looked up at him and nodded slightly to demonstrate your agreement on the matter.

After taking them back to his kitchen and in the sink the teacher sighed, he knew you felt terrible, but he was hoping for a little improvement on this, but this just showed you were working on it. He walked back into the living room and saw you still in the same position as before just sitting in a dazed state, but now he noticed your visible shivering from the fever you no doubt had. He put a hand on your forehead and once again you leaned into is getting a little bit of pleasure from the coldness to you. What he noticed was that you felt warmer than you had before and sighed. 

He walked away and headed to the bathroom and into a medicine cabinet. He grabbed a thermometer and ibuprofen and Tylenol, unsure of what would help the circumstances more. Once he got back to you he crouched down in front of you again as you hugged yourself giving the illusion of creating a little warmth.

“Y\N, I need you to open your mouth and stick this under your tongue so I can check your temperature, okay? See what we’re working with.”

As it beeped he discovered the results were very undesirable, 102.4 degrees Fahrenheit, starting to get into dangerous levels. The time was approximately 6:00 in the morning and right about now would usually be preparing to train you in combat before classes for the day, but today is different for the obvious reasons. The teacher sighed as he debated on the blanket or not, but it would make you more comfortable so he left it for you,

“Alright, kid, why don’t you lay down and get some sleep. You’re staying here for the time being at least until I deem you well enough to go back to your dorm. Now, what works better for a fever reducer for you, ibuprofen or Tylenol?” he said and asked as he held the bottles up.

After releasing a small cough you responded with, “Tylenol works better for me.”

And with a quick motion, he took two out of the bottle and handed them to you take along with a bottle of water. You gave him a small smile of gratitude. And after you swallowed he set the bottles down and helped guide you to laying down knowing that to you, you must feel incredibly heavy and weak. Started with your upper body making sure your head hit the pillow, then helped lift your legs onto the cushions. He proceeded to take the blanket and placing it on top of your frame to provide that extra bit of comfort.

“Why don’t you close your eyes and get some sleep kid. I’ll be here when you wake up, if I’m not in here directly find a way to let me know.”

“Okay Mr. Azaiwa, but what about classes today, shouldn’t you be there instead of here taking care of silly old me?” you said with a small laugh that leads to a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll figure it out, right now you are my priority. Now go to sleep little one”:

And with that, you closed your eyes and your breathing slowed as you snuggled into the couch and pillow while wrapping yourself in the provided blanket. He sighed and took another look at the time, Roughly a quarter after 6. He knew Present Mic would be around in a little over an hour and a half as the human alarm clock with his projecting voice for teachers and students. He knew he was going to have to stop him this time since he knew you really needed the uninterrupted sleep and he knew it was essential to getting you healthy. In the meantime, he decided it was in his best interest to take a small nap and unwrapped one of his many sleeping bags and laid down in it on the floor next to you.

In about an hour and 15 minutes he woke up and got up to wait in the hallway to see Present Mic and ask him to not do his normal routine and explain the situation. Later in the day, he had plans to retrieve your laptop to email your professors at the American college and also speak to principle Nezu to alert him of the situation at hand, also he was supposed to alert him anytime a modification was to be made to a students file.

After a few more minutes Present Mic exited his room and was surprised to see his friend already out of his room and headed over to him.

“Hey Hizashi, anyway I can talk you out of doing your normal wake up routine?” Azaiwa asked.

“I mean sure, but why?” the other teacher proceeded to ask.

“I’ve got a very sick student crashing on my couch right now. She has been overworking herself and been trying to function on next to no sleep and forgot to eat in the mix of it. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N would it? She’s the American girl also working on her college degree right?” Hizashi asked.

“Yeah, that’s the student. I guess she at the end of the semester and is struggling a bit. I think she’s also been depending on her quirk more and has been overusing it. Speaking of which, you know how the symptoms of that were missing from her student file? Well, I finally found out tonight.”

“Well shit man, what are they?”

“From the information, she gave me they are usually a lack of focus, occasional headache, and often night terrors and the extra fatigue. I’ll be going to Nezu here in a bit since it will be a modification to her file.”

“Alright man, I’ll spread the news to ask I wake the other teachers up.”

“Thanks for that Hizashi, and would you mind helping out covering my classes today. I want to keep a close eye on the kid. Has a fever of 102 degrees and is really struggling,” Awaiza asked to hope for the best.

“Yeah no problem Shota, just take care of the kid and let me know if you need anything else from me,” and with that, he walked off to start his morning wake-up calls.

With this taken care of, he proceeded to walk back into the apartment and see Y/N still sleeping soundly and decided to crawl back into his sleeping back, hoping to achieve some sleep himself, as he too needed some sleep in order to help her.

[boonki]

Ooh!!! "No more today, you’re at your limit.” ? ❣❣

Hi anon!! Thank you so much for sending this prompt in, I had so much fun writing it (also thank you for waiting, I’ve been a little slow with writing lately) 

do we want 3.2k of obikin in the bath? idk but i wrote it! (also do the apartments in the jedi temple even have baths? idk. in this story they do LMAO)

as always, i write at 3 am, so if there are any mistakes, please.. just dont look at them

enjoy!! 💖

____

Obi-wan throws a side kick that lands square in Anakin’s stomach, sending him stumbling backwards. He rolls over a shoulder, ready for the next attack. He blocks a fist to the face, and counters with a punch to Obi-wan’s stomach, which is easily batted to the side. 

They’ve been going at it for hours, lightsabers tossed to the side in favor of hand-to-hand combat. Their robes lay messily off to the side of the training room, discarded hours ago as the room sweltered in the summer heat, the pair left only in their pants rolled up at the ankles. Anakin can see Obi-wan faltering, making easy mistakes that cost him light bruises; he must be incredibly tired, just having returned lightly injured from a mission to the Outer Rim. Anakin would so much rather see Obi-wan resting and curled up over a cup of tea, or taking a nap on Anakin’s chest so he can pet his hair down and hold him. But Obi-wan had wanted to spar, and Anakin would never say no to that. 

Anakin sees the opportunity and tackles Obi-wan to the ground, straddling his bare stomach and pinning his arms above his head. Obi-wan bucks his hips to roll Anakin over, but Anakin had been prepared for that, digging his knees into the mat to keep grounded. Both of their chests are heaving, and a droplet of sweat drips off of Anakin’s chin and onto Obi-wan’s neck. 

“I think we should call it quits for today, old man.” Anakin releases his grip on Obi-wan’s wrists and perches back on his heels, looking down at him. 

Obi-wan smirks. “And stop while you’re ahead? No, let’s go again.” He makes to get up, pushing his elbows into the mat, but Anakin stops him with a hand to his chest. 

“I’m serious. No more today, you’re at your limit. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Anakin’s tone is serious as he can be, his eyebrows raised, features stern. 

Obi-wan falls back to the ground, closing his eyes as he catches his breath. “As far as I was aware, it’s you hurting me, but point taken, love. You win.” 

Anakin leans down and pecks a kiss to his cheek, tasting salt, and stretches his lips in a wide smile. “I’ll grab us dinner from Dex’s and I’ll meet you back in our quarters, okay?” He shifts his weight to the side so he can slide off of Obi-wan, wincing at the ache in his already sore muscles. “And go shower? You need one.” 

Obi-wan shoots him a wry look. “What, you don’t like the smell of sweat? I can’t, anyhow, I have to go report to the council first.” 

“Do you want your usual?” Anakin ignores his sarcasm and hops to his feet, making his way towards their forgotten robes, wishing he had remembered to bring a towel with him. 

“Of course, darling.” Obi-wan answers from the floor, still lying on his back with his arms stretched out above his head. 

Anakin dons his robes loosely, grabbing his ‘saber from the floor, and takes in the sight: Obi-wan is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, making him glow, and his hair is pushed back, giving him an oddly attractive tousled look. Anakin’s dick twitches in his pants, wanting to do nothing more than take him apart right then and there. But the desire to get some food in Obi-wan and see him rest and relax overwhelms the sexual urge. There will be time for that later on, no doubt. 

He makes his way back to Obi-wan in easy, long strides and squats down, kissing him sideways, holding his sweaty head in between his palms. “I’m serious, you stink. The council can wait. Go shower.” 

Obi-wan snorts. “No, they really can’t. Tell Dex I said hello.” 

____

Anakin shuffles through Padme’s favorite body shop, where she used to drag him when they had briefly dated years prior. He never would’ve admitted it to her, but he relished the fancy baths she had created for them, and had returned to the shop alone innumerable times since they politely ended things. His body always thanked him after a hot soak. 

With how tired Obi-wan seemed when he had come back from his mission and padded into their quarters earlier, and how sore he must be after today’s intense practice, Anakin wants to do something special for him. Besides, they’ve barely been able to spend time together because of the war, and Anakin misses it just being the two of them. He hopes the bath won’t be too much for Obi-wan, but he knows the man has a soft spot for fancy things under that rigid exterior. 

The shop is crammed and dense, with low ceilings littered with dried flowers hanging upside down, casting a faint rose hue over the entire place. Soaps in muted colors, wrapped in bright shades of paper line the walls, leading down to the wooden tables that hold syrupy oils and linen bags of flowers and herbs. Coarse soaps and lotions in clear tubs sit in wire baskets underneath the tables. The whole room smells like a meadow in bloom, and Anakin eyes the candles burning in the corners of the room in consideration. 

Thankfully, he’s the only one in the shop currently, so he can take his time picking the right products. He pops the cork out of a bottle of bath oil and takes a whiff: light, and flowery, with a faint hint of jasmine. Throwing it in his cart, he adds some cream soap, and, hesitating a little, a bag of assorted flower petals to hover on the surface of the water. He already has floating candle lights for the bath at home. 

“Are you all set?” Sasha, the elegant female Twi’lek that owns the shop, leans against the register, eyeing him fondly. She used to tease him all the time about coming here alone, but they’ve moved past that, into a tentative friendship. 

“Yeah.” He slides his basket onto the counter between them. 

She eyes his items, cocking an eyebrow. “Is this for someone special?” 

He can feel the blood rushing into his cheeks and ears, but doesn’t want to admit it one way or the other. “Maybe.” 

She barks out a laugh at his bashfulness. “Lucky person, whoever it is.” 

“Uh.” He doesn’t really know how to answer that. “Thanks?” 

Her smile is playful, like he’s a child that just said something particularly cute. With the efficiency of someone who’s been doing it for years, she rings out the total and wraps all the items up in a paper satchel, sliding it back across the counter at him. 

“That’s going to be 83 credits.” 

He really hopes the council doesn’t look into his expenses, he wouldn’t know what to tell them. 

____

The door to their quarters swings open cautiously and Anakin peeps inside, worried that he took too long. After popping by the body shop, he swung by Dex’s as promised, and Dex had wanted to catch up, and rightfully so; it had been too long. Anakin had shifted from foot to foot the entire time though, anxious about getting home to draw the bath before Obi-wan returned from meeting with the council. But Dex is a viable source of information, a fantastic cook, and most importantly, a long time and loyal friend, so Anakin had plastered a good natured grin on his face and quieted the nag of unease in his stomach. 

The living room and kitchen is quiet, and Anakin doesn’t hear any noise coming from either the ‘fresher or their bedrooms. Anakin is in the clear. 

He drops the food off unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter, throwing his outer robes over a chair on his way to the ‘fresher, bag of goods in hand. Flipping on the light, he starts up the hot water and pulls out the candle lights that sit underneath the sink. As the scalding water rises to the top, he pours in the oil and soap, and sprinkles the flower petals across the water, deliberately placing the candle lights in last so he could perfect their destination. They glow to life as soon as they make contact with the water, and Anakin smiles at the sight. 

Stretching back up to stand, he turns the light off and shifts the door shut, letting the dim incandescence float through the room, a heavy orange that immediately adds intimacy to the space.

He has to admit, he’s outdone himself. 

Then: a creak of a door hinge, the shuffling of tired steps, and crinkling of the take-out bag as Obi-wan no doubts sneaks a fry in before Anakin catches him. 

Anakin bounds back to the kitchen, like a child bursting at the seams. 

“I have a surprise, before we eat,” he says to Obi-wan’s back. (He is sneaking a fry.)

“That’s never good.” Obi-wan replies, turning around to lean back against the counter, chewing thoughtfully. 

“All my surprises are good surprises.” 

“Oh, like the time you superglued my datapad to the ceiling so I would pay more attention to you? You could have just asked, dear one.” 

Anakin huffs, and covers the distance between them in two short strides, nudging Obi-wan towards the ‘fresher, covering both of Obi-wan’s eyes with his hands. 

“Just,” Anakin murmurs, “trust me on this one.” 

They lumber towards the ‘fresher, Anakin pushing a blinded Obi-wan forwards with each step. When they make their way to the entrance, Anakin stops them, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Smells good, at the very least.” Obi-wan hums, in no hurry to have his sight back. 

Anakin, however, cannot wait and eagerly pulls his hands back, watching Obi-wan’s face for a reaction. 

The smile begins in Obi-wan’s eyes as they crinkle, and then it moves down to his cheeks and into his mouth, which is pulled back in a twisted, tender way. Joy sings through every feature, and Anakin is elated. 

Obi-wan turns his head to look at him, his gaze tender. “Is this for me?” 

Anakin bites the inside of his cheek. “For us, to share, if you want. Unless you want to be alone, I’m more than happy to go lay down, but I thought-” 

“For us, then.” Obi-wan leans in and kisses him on the jaw, already undressing. For the second time that day, Anakin looks down at a small heap of clothing. He closes the ‘fresher door behind them. 

As soon as he slides his legs into the water, Obi-wan moans, and Anakin, no matter how many times he’s heard it, blushes, his breath quickening. Obi-wan is somehow both the most proper, and most obscene person Anakin has ever had the good graces of knowing. 

The petals dance away from Obi-wan, ripples in the water sending them cascading in circles. “Come on, then,” he says to Anakin, who is still staring down at him with a dopey smile on his face. 

Anakin makes quick work of his clothing, standing naked next to the bath. He motions for Obi-wan to lean forward so he can nestle in behind him. 

The water is still piping hot, almost uncomfortably so, but Anakin makes a small ahh noise at the feeling of it on his sore muscles. He snakes his legs on each side of Obi-wan, pulling him back so that Obi-wan’s back lays flush against his chest, having to shoo a candle light out of the way. It bumbles along their sides, and out towards their entangled legs, illuminating the peachy bubbles and sunset tinged petals that bob in their wake. Obi-wan tilts his head back, resting it on Anakin’s shoulder, and sighs in contentment. 

He drops a kiss on Obi-wan’s temple, breathing him in, his arms finding their home around Obi-wan’s waist. The skin on Obi-wan chest, arms, and face glimmer in the candlelight, flickering orange, more radiant than any Tatooine sunset, and Anakin wants to fall face first into the radiant gleam of his heart, wants to crawl into Obi-wan’s chest and bask in the warmth of his love, his light. 

“This is lovely,” Obi-wan whispers, fluttering his eyes closed. “Thank you.” 

Anakin’s hold around his middle tightens a bit in response, trailing a hand up and down Obi-wan’s stomach in repetition, a mindless gesture. “You seem tired lately.”

Obi-wan turns his head toward Anakin’s, resting his forehead in the crook of Anakin’s neck. He doesn’t get a response for a few heartbeats, and Anakin wonders if Obi-wan heard him. And then: 

“Well, we are at war.” Obi-wan’s tone is flat, nondescript. Anakin knows Obi-wan is mincing his words for his sake, and as a bad habit of holding tight to all of his problems, like sharing them would break him. Anakin wants to share the load with him, help carrying the burden. 

“Are you sure that’s all?” He mumbles into Obi-wan’s humid forehead, sweat beginning to glisten at his hairline from the searing water. 

Obi-wan lets out the faintest of sighs through his nose, carefully considering his response. “I wish I…,” he grabs Anakin’s hands in the water, laying them on top and threading his fingers into Anakin’s, “I wish I could help more. Do more. None of it ever feels enough.” 

Anakin gazes over their tangled legs, barely visible underneath the bubbles drifting over the surface, and aches all over at the thought of Obi-wan feeling inadequate. He wishes Obi-wan could see himself as Anakin sees him: brave, selfless, the entire backbone of the war, and a brilliant General and inspiring leader. Anakin has, and would a million times over, follow him into the depths of hell. The petals stick to their skin, creating a small halo of reds and purples where their bodies meet the water.

“You’re doing enough.” Anakin sighs. “You barely sleep, you’re always doing briefings and writing reports, and when we’re finally on a break you’re off training younglings, sitting in for the council, kriffing asking for sparring practice.” He huffs a laugh of disbelief into Obi-wan’s hairline. “You practically run this war yourself sometimes. When do you ever rest?” 

Obi-wan is silent for some time, probably thinking of some way to deflect everything. He comes back with rare and unusual honesty. “It feels selfish, taking time for myself when I know there are people out there dying. Innocent people.” 

Anakin scoffs. “How are you supposed to help them if you’re ready to keel over yourself, hm?” 

“We’re jedi, that’s what we do. Besides,” Obi-wan rubs his face on Anakin’s neck, tone turning sweet, “I have you to make sure I don’t.” 

Anakin grins into the wet curve of his head, his hair plastered to his skull from the steam wafting up around them, making the edges of the room disappear into a soft and warm fog. 

“You’re enough, and you deserve rest.” He plants an overdone kiss on Obi-wan’s skull, rougher than usual to make a point. 

Obi-wan hums noncommittally and tightens his hold on Anakin’s hands, somehow sinking further into Anakin’s chest. 

He squeezes once and then untangles his fingers from Obi-wan’s hold to trace over his body. The tops of his thighs are as far as Anakin can reach, so he starts there, letting his fingertips graze over sensitive and supple skin, over soft hair and old scars. He moves to the base of Obi-wan’s stomach, purposefully ignoring his cock in favor of showering him with pure adoration and affection. He’ll let his hands wander there after they’ve eaten and gotten into bed. 

Anakin loves the broad plain of Obi-wan’s chest, loves to rest his head on it after a long day, so he spends extra time there, dragging his fingernails across the pink skin, smoothing the sting down with the flat of his palm. He glides up to Obi-wan’s neck and into the base of his auburn hair, gently massaging the tense bundles of nerves that always seem to gather after a long and stressful day, and Obi-wan melts into him, humming sleepily. 

Overwhelmed that Obi-wan is his, that this breathtaking man is resting in his arms, seeping into his chest and finding home in his heart, he can’t help but want to stay like this forever: clean, warm, safe, and together. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Anakin breathes out, voice cracking, “and I love you so much.” 

The petals gleam in agreement, hovering in reverence near him, their red hues like Anakin’s beating heart, holding Obi-wan in place. He understands their predicament; he, too, would bloom and fall and bloom and fall for this man, would reach out as far as he can from the wet and mossy ground to be regarded and gazed at, plucked and taken home. Even if it meant dying, wilting away, it would be worth it to be held near his face, to be carefully tucked into a vase to watch over him in the final days. Him and these flowers are one and the same, always gravitating towards the brightest point in the room, his sun, his reason for blooming. 

Soft and slow breaths escape Obi-wan, and his chest evens out in a regular cadence. He must have fallen asleep. Good, Anakin thinks. 

Anakin holds him close and watches the bubbles pop, one by one, as the time passes. Candlelight reflects off of the still surface of the water, the rise and fall of Obi-wan’s chest the only movement causing faint ripples. This is the closest he’s come to meditation lately, and it feels so wonderful. 

He’s not sure what time it is, and can’t be bothered to care if anyone has comm’d him. Here in the four corners of their shared space is Anakin’s entire universe, and bliss simmers in his chest. 

Anakin’s fingers are starting to prune and sweat drips off of chin. The water is starting to cool, though, and if Obi-wan hadn’t been stuck to his body, he probably would want to get out. He doesn’t want to wake him though, as sleep is rare and precious these days. 

His stomach, however, has a different idea, and growls loudly, startling Obi-wan awake, who chuckles at the sound. 

“Maybe we should go eat that food you brought back,” he teases. 

Anakin can’t help the guilty smile that creeps its way onto his face. “How does eating and going back to sleep sound?” 

“Sounds like the best plan you’ve ever improvised, my dear.” 

Anakin makes a psh noise. “I don’t ever improvise.” 

Obi-wan scoffs, a high pitched laugh from the back of his throat. “So this was all planned, then?” 

Anakin sees the opportunity and takes it. “What, falling in love with you? No, but that has been my greatest achievement this far.” 

Obi-wan raises his head from Anakin’s shoulder and meets him at eye level, twisting his body around to kiss Anakin deeply, biting his lower lip and sucking. Anakin snakes a hand to the back of his head and kisses back, trying to pour all his love, his entire heart, all of him, into Obi-wan’s mouth. He wants Obi-wan to pluck him, and know he loves me, he loves me, he loves me with the pull of each petal. 

Obi-wan breaks their kiss and leans back, staring into his eyes. “Well, unlike you, I do actually plan, and my greatest achievement this far will be devouring the order of fries waiting for me in the kitchen.” 

Anakin laughs, and flicks water at his face.

[mosswillow]

Learning To Love - Steve Rogers x Reader (featuring Texas vibes)

Summary: Life always does this thing where it puts you in situations you swore you were done experiencing. You’re done having relationships, but they may not be done with you.

Warnings: Smut, feelings, angst, interrupted assault  (In relation to this, attacker going unpunished, intimidation, stalker vibes.), mature themes, 18+ adult content, slow burn?

A/N: This is a gift for @joannie95 for the Hoelentine’s Day challenge! I hope you like it. This isn’t a dark fic but it is a little heavy, there’s a healthy dollop of anxiety and feelings throughout with a happy ending.

Thanks to  @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares and @drabblewithfrannybarnes  for putting this whole thing together, it’s such a fun challenge!

By clicking keep reading you confirm you’re over 18. This is mature content, be careful.

Unlovable.

When asked to describe yourself it’s the first word you think of. Your very first boyfriend spent months emotionally abusing you and by the end of the relationship it’s what you truly believed about yourself. Every relationship after has been the same. Your insecurities and inability to trust causing tension that eventually sabotages any chance at making things work; and with each failed relationship your view of yourself becomes more and more loathsome. Self hatred and depreciation surround you in a cloak of misery, convincing you that they’re your friends.  It’s all your fault, you deserve all of it, You’re unlovable.

So you don’t do relationships anymore. You want nothing more than to love and be loved, to hold hands and kiss under the moonlight. You want a partner to share your life with, an emotional connection that transcends yourself, creating a whole new person.

If only you were good enough, worthy enough for love.

But you’re not.

---

“No eating in here Dr. Rogers,” you chide.

Steve looks up at you and gives a smirk.

“How about a little bribe.” He holds up a bag of beaver nuggets. You roll your eyes and look around before sticking your hand in and grabbing a few puffs.

“I knew you couldn’t be perfect all the time,” He teases.

“Don’t you have an office or something?”

“I like it better here, I get to be scolded by a beautiful librarian and don’t have to deal with the other professors.”  

You’ve known Steve for years. He started teaching at the same time you joined the library staff at Rice. He’s genuine and kind. You’ve watched him help countless students outside of office hours. Everyone likes him, including you. You really like him a lot. That’s why you can’t let yourself entertain the possibility of being with him. You can’t lose him. You can’t bear the inevitable conclusion of him looking you in the eyes and telling you he’s done, that you’re too much for him.

“Well you’ll have to pack it up, they’re sending everyone home because of the hurricane.”

“It’s barely even a hurricane, more like a tropical storm,” Steve scoffs.

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

You close the library down before heading to your car. The wind has already started and the sky darkens by the second. You smell the slight scent of sea air and know it’s close. The humidity, which you forgot could even get this bad, causes you to start sweating profusely and you want to get home and take a shower before the storm starts. You have a pint of blue bell waiting for you at home along with a stack of unread books, a quiet night sounds perfect.

“Hey.”

You whip around and see a familiar face, a grad student who visits the library often. Alex, you remember.

“Sorry, I just closed the library down. You'll have to wait until the school opens.”

He takes a small step forward, close enough that your personal space is violated, while at the same time far enough to where the invasion feels almost accidental.

“I’ve watched you around campus, noticed your schedule.” It’s not an accident.

It’s not unusual for students to flirt with you but this is less flirting and more just creepy.

“Oh, um yeah I work a lot.” you take a step back and he follows.

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” He states.

You stare at him and take another step back, hitting your back on your car. You grab onto the handle and he reaches out and grabs your hand.

“Hey don’t be like that. I’m a good guy. I won’t hurt you.”

You pry your hand away..

“One date, say yes.” He says, slowly pushing his body towards you.

“No, I have to go.”  

You press yourself against your car as his body goes rigid.

“You’re such a fucking tease, parading around me for weeks.”

He takes a tiny step back but places his hands against your car, caging you in. You close your eyes and freeze in fear. Your mind screams at you to move but your body just won’t.

He’s suddenly pulled away from you and when you open your eyes the only thing visible is Steve’s back.

“She said no, why don’t you move along and maybe spend some time considering why you feel entitled to women who clearly aren’t interested.”

Alex and Steve stare at each other for a few slow moments before Alex scowls at you and walks away.

“Are you ok?” Steve turns to you.

“I’m fine.” you lie, crossing your arms to avoid shaking.

Steve raises his eyebrows and looks you up and down. You’re not entirely sure how it happens but somehow you end up sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's truck, looking at your apartment building. Rain has started coming down in earnest and you dread running through it.

“Are you going to be ok alone?” Steve asks

“Are you?” You reply.

You look at eachother and your mind clears. His blue eyes stare at you with concern. Steve's hands are still on the steering wheel, clutching on like it might disappear if he lets go. You don’t want to be alone and you can tell that he doesn’t either. You want to feel safe and right now Steve is the only one who makes you feel that way. It would be so easy to invite him in, you know he would say yes.

“You don’t have a car. do you have food? Bottled water? A portable charger?” Steve asks.

“You’re the one that said it’s barely a hurricane.”

Steve sighs and releases his hands from the steering wheel.

“Just call me if you need me.”

You nod and climb out of the truck. The transition from the hot rain to your air conditioned apartment causes you to start shivering and even after you change and cover yourself in a warm blanket you still shake uncontrollably.

---

The storm lasts three days, worse than you were expecting but nothing like Harvey.

Steve shows up at your apartment bright and early a bag of conchas and breakfast tacos in hand. You climb in his truck and buckle your seatbelt. Steve eyes your book bag before backing up.

“You’re not going to work are you?”

“It’s been three days.” you reply.

He looks at you like you’re crazy and you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“It wasn’t that bad, you got there before anything actually happened,” you say.

He opens his mouth and breathes in before biting his lip and driving you to work without another word.

Steve walks you to your car every day after work. You don’t ask him to, he just does. It’s an unsaid expectation you both have. The first week is awkward, You both say almost nothing to each other. The second week though Steve finally breaks the silence.

“How have you been?”

You shrug.  

“I filed a complaint. He’s barred from the library and promised not to come near me.” you say.

Steve purses his lips.

“Do you feel safe though?”

“No...”

Steve stiffens and you reach out and grasp his shoulder.

“Thank you for walking me to my car.”

“Of course,” Steve closes the door for you and you drive away.

Steve cracked something on your exterior. You had been pushing off the feelings before Steve asked you how you were and now you can’t push them down any longer. You get in the shower and let the warm water wash over you. At first you feel raw and then angry and then for the first time since it happened you cry. It feels silly, to let something so seemingly small affect you so much. It could have been so much worse, it’s not like anything actually happened. Maybe that’s what scares you, not what happened but the implication of what could have. He invaded your space and intimidated you, making you feel small and helpless. If it wasn’t for Steve…

You let yourself fall apart until the water turns cold, then you pick yourself up and wrap yourself in a soft towel.

You look at the woman in your bathroom mirror and see someone who isn’t you. She’s broken and hurting, her eyes swollen from crying. She looks like she’s about to fall over from exhaustion. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. She has every right to feel upset and frightened about it. She didn’t deserve to have her safety threatened, nobody deserves that.

You didn’t deserve it.

You go to work the next day and the day after that. Days turn into weeks turn into months and the fear slowly leaches out of you as you reach out for help. The woman in your bathroom mirror deserves therapy and so do you.

Steve is always there. He walks you to your car every day. He starts texting you and you text him back. You go out to dinner with him, an ethiopian place this weekend and a mediteranian food truck the next. You form inside jokes and slowly you find yourself telling Steve little things about yourself.

“Why are you single?” You ask him one day.

“I had a girlfriend, she’s not with us anymore. After she… I guess I just… I wasn’t in a place for a long time to date anyone, I cringe now at some of the things I did while dating after she passed.”

He leans back and gives you a little smile.

“I’ll know when it’s the right time to jump back in - when it’s the right person.”

You open up about your past and he listens. He tells you about growing up as the smallest kid in his class, how he was bullied and how suddenly people started treating him differently when he hit a late growth spurt. You feel closer to him than you’ve ever felt with anyone.

---

Steve walks you to your car. Tomorrow is your off day and you stop to thank him and remind him you aren’t working the next few days. He’s looking at you and shifts on his feet, you furrow your brows in concern.

“It’s Valentine's day tomorrow.” He blurts out.

You take a step towards your car, knowing where this is going and not wanting it to go any further.

Steve is the one who holds you together, his friendship helping you in so many ways. He holds power over you though, power to throw you aside and break you apart. You can’t be cast away, not again.

“If you don’t have plans maybe I can make you something for dinner at my place?”

You turn away and grab your door handle.

“Sorry, I’m busy.”

“Oh of course, yeah that’s fine.”

You watch Steve bring his hand up to his forehead in the rearview mirror as you drive away.

That evening you write the text, it’s cowardly but you don’t think you can face him.

I don’t need you to walk me to my car anymore. Thank you for your help but I think our relationship should be professional from here on out.

What? No, we’re friends. Are you ok?

You turn your phone off and take a sleeping pill only to be woken in the middle of the night by pounding on your door.

Steve stands in your doorway. His eyes are red and his hair is messy. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“I turned it off.”

Steve stares at you and you look away.

“What is this about?”

“What is what about?”

“We’re friends. I’m not going to stop being your friend just because you don’t want a relationship. I know this isn’t one sided, that you feel the same way about me. Why are you trying to push me away?”

You cross your arms and look down and he leans over, putting himself in your line of sight.

“If I let you in I’ll get hurt,” you confess.

“Why do you think that?”

‘I..” You stutter

It’s not one moment. Not any one breakup you’ve been through. It’s not even what happened months ago during the hurricane. It’s everything. It’s self hatred, overthinking and analyzing. It’s all the anxiety and stress of life that compounds into fear. Fear of failing and of loss, of getting hurt and breaking. You feel like the only way to keep yourself up and moving is by pushing him away.

“You’re so scared of being hurt but Y/N, you’re hurting. You’re doing to yourself the very thing you’re so scared of.”

Tears start forming, Steve brings his hand up and wipes one away before pulling you into a hug and letting you cry into his chest.

He shifts his face close to your ear and speaks softly.

“I have fear too, but you know what I’m the most scared of? I’m scared of not being your friend anymore. We don’t have to be in a relationship but please don’t cut me out.”

His voice hitches and his grip tightens.

“I love you, I care about you and always will.”

You pull back and look at him, a tear escapes one of his eyes and he promptly wipes it away.

“I’m scared,” you say.

“I am too.”

Your heart beats rapidly as you look up into Steve's bloodshot eyes and see the pain that you’re feeling mirrored back at you. Steve holds power over you but for the first time you realize that you hold that same power over him. You never thought you would be willing to put yourself in a vulnerable position again but somehow, here you are. You put your hand over your heart and feel the life pump out if it and through your veins.

reaching up tentatively, you bring your hand to his face grabbing his cheek gently. You stand up tall and slide your hand behind his neck, bringing him in and kissing him. Tension releases from both of you as you press your lips together, embracing in a warm hug. You pull away and he brings you in for another kiss, this time pushing you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

It’s a flurry of body parts and heat. You’re ripping off each other's clothing. Steve kisses your neck and you bring your hand to his chest and feel down his abdomen. He groans when you get to his dick and the next thing you know you’re on the bed arching your back as he slams into you. You open your mouth to moan but nothing comes out, Instead your eyes roll to the back of your head as an orgasm washes through you and carries you away.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” He says.

He stills on top of you and then looks down making eye contact before rolling beside you and pulling you into a hug.

“That was...” Steve starts

“Amazing.” you finish.

You pry yourself from Steve and walk to the bathroom to clean up, stopping at the mirror to look at your post sex appearance.

Maybe there’s no way around it. Maybe life will stick you in situations and force you forward against your will. You weren’t trying to let Steve into your life but somehow here he is.

For the first time you don’t don’t feel like this unlovable person. You’re not scared he’s going to leave you or that you’re going to ruin the relationship.

You have a feeling you’ve never truly experienced before and now it all makes sense. Somehow in the last few months you’ve learned to love. You look at yourself in the mirror and see someone worthy.

You’ve spent all your time and energy pushing people away when you should have been building yourself up. You thought that taking care of yourself meant hiding away and putting up a wall.

Self care isn’t a bubble bath or a glass of wine and It’s not something that happens out of fear or anxiety. It’s affording yourself the same kindness and forgiveness that you would give anyone else. It’s looking at yourself in the mirror and recognizing that you deserve to love and to be loved. It’s giving yourself permission to feel however you feel without guilt or shame. It’s love in its purest form and you deserve it.

You are not unlovable.

Steve walks up beside you and kisses your temple.

“When you said you loved me...” you start.

“I meant it.”  He says quickly.

You turn and look at him, biting your lip before saying something you’ve been so scared of for so long. You kiss his cheek and smile.

“I love you.”  

[yuzukult]

effortlessly (m) || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (poorly written, don’t come @ me) words: 4.5k warnings: this chapter contains smut. a/n: i wrote this on wattpad like months ago (unfinished) but i was kinda sad bc you can see the view count so i decided to finish it here and spruce it up since tumblr lessens my insecurities lol also, i decided to make this my first series (a five part(?)) series!!! note: jungkook & reader are 18+, seniors in high school. series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

"Alright, pick your partners!" Your P.E. teacher exclaims, clapping her hands to quicken the students' pace to get started. Jungkook beams at you with a smile before giving you a nudge into your arm. "Let's be partners, it'll be more fun this way!"

"Okay, okay," You unwilling agree, crouching down before falling on your bottom. You bend down and motion Jungkook to hold down your feet so you can start doing the sit-ups. Leaning over, he sits on his knees then wraps his soft, gentle hands around your ankles. "Go."

Oddly enough, this wasn’t the first time when you began to notice things about Jungkook that made him seem... more and more like a man. It was so strange – he'd been your childhood friend, so in your eyes, he was still that innocent little boy who played house and leap frog with you outside in the backyard. His shirt was snug around his arms that were flexed from holding down your ankles, hair ruffled from the wind blowing, and his jawline was especially sharp in comparison to the roundness his head was in his younger years.

You gulp. Hands crossed over your chest, touching your shoulders, you move your upper body up and down continuously, trying to avoid his gaze. "Why are you looking away, weirdo?" He chuckles, head tilting in confusion. "Uh, no reason."

"You're not afraid that you might accidentally kiss me, are you? Like we're in some k-drama?" Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you in the midst of a set. "What?" Your head shoots to his direction.

"Come on, we've kissed before, this is nothing."

"How about we be each other's first kiss." Jungkook suggests, tapping his toes on the floor anxiously. You were both in your early teen years, sitting on his bed side by side as you've always done, discussing about how your classmates were starting to get their first kisses and you personally were afraid of not being able to get one soon enough. "I mean, you mentioned that you were scared, right? You said it yourself that you don't think you’d get the opportunity any time soon. I can give you mine, and you can give me yours. It'll be perfect." You bite your bottom lip, feeling something churn deep in your stomach when he turns to look at you. "Are you okay with that?"

"I'm okay with that." Jungkook cups your cheeks with both his hands, and you felt your ears turning hot. Closing your eyes, you feel him scooting closer when his heavy breathing hits your face. Pursing up your lips, you feel his lightly meet with yours before he pulls away with the cheekiest grin.

"What—stop saying stuff like that in public. People will stare." Glaring at him, you wrinkle your brows in slight annoyance. "I'm not in the mood to get attacked by some crazy fangirls around here."

"Hey you! Why are you stopping? Chop chop!" The teacher proclaims toward you, and fearfully, you quicken your pace in compliance.

"Crazy fangirls?"

You move hastily as your form starts to mess up before you stop then stand, ignoring his response. "Your turn." Jungkook switches positions with you without argument, except you sit horizontally from him and on his feet. "You didn't answer my question. What do you mean by crazy girls?"

"I don't know? You're like a pretty boy kdrama lead type of guy. The girls here think they're the leads, and you're their romantic interest." He slows down his sit-ups and observes your expression. "Kdrama-lead? Pretty boy? What are you saying?"

"Think about it. How many girls have confessed to you in the span of a week? You're telling me that you don't notice these things?"

One of Jungkook's friends, Hoseok, jumps on his back eagerly to gain his attention then messes up his hair. "Come on, little guy, let's grab some lunch!" He grins from cheek to cheek, tugging him along with the rest of their group. "Oh, um, Jungkook," a soft voice speaks; Jungkook and his friends freeze, directing their attention to the girl standing before them. "Yes?"

Her hands were full of gifts – a bag with treats and a flower inside, a small carton of chocolate milk, and a letter stamped with hearts and doodles all over it. "This is for you," She says with her head down and arms extended to give him her confessions. "Aw, sweet! What's the occasion?"

"Oh—I—"

"Come on guys, I'm starving!" Someone shouts from the back, pushing Hoseok and Jungkook to move forward as the latter waves goodbye to the girl with a smile on his face while he grabs the items from her hands. "Thanks for the gifts!"

"Hah, there's no way," Jungkook retorts, sitting up from the workout before clicking his tongue in attempts to retrieve the memory of the girl's confession. "Okay, but what about the other girl from Tuesday?"

"Tuesday?" He looks at you questioningly. "What about Tuesday? There was a girl?"

"You don't remember?" You slide yourself off of his feet, and settle yourself on the dirt across from him. "That girl, the one who recently dyed her hair blonde. She bought you breakfast and gave you that little note in the bag. Did you even read that note? Did you even read the other girl's note?"

Jungkook looks up, trying to recall back to the moment. "I really don't remember seeing any of this. There was a note?"

"Ah, so you didn't read any of the notes. They were all confession letters."

"Confession letters? People still do that?" He lets out a chuckle before getting up, and brushing the dirt off his pants. "We're in high school, I thought that was something people left behind in middle school."

"I think it's kind of romantic," You shrug, and Jungkook offers his hand out for you and you accept, standing and dusting off your shorts as well. "But it is kind of sappy. You can't blame them though, these dramas are setting too high of standards for these people. Either way, you should tell them whether or not you reciprocate feelings. Are you really that oblivious?"

"Reciprocate feelings?" Jungkook crosses his arms before he continues, "They should know that you're the only girl in my life." 

What?

"Yeah, but I'm your friend, not your romantic partner." Jungkook lets out a sigh before he runs his hands through his hair, and you’re suddenly wishing you were the one doing it. "Okay, fine. But help me, I don't know how to let them down easy."

You were neighbors since the beginning of your lives, and didn't know of any friend that you both have known longer than each other. There were weekends where you would sleepover at each other's house, play games, watch movies, and eat junk food. It was almost a ritual – something the two of you do on a bi-weekly basis that it was never questioned by either of your parents. There was a level of trust that was established; he was welcomed to your house, and you were welcomed in his.

You're not sure when it started, these weird emotions you began to feel towards Jungkook. He was always the same annoying, overly excited, lazy guy. You didn't think you liked him in that way but there was this weird fuzzy feeling you had every time he smiled, or whenever he would blurt something flirtatious, even though you knew he was joking. You've seen him at his worst—room filled with trash of wrappers from candy, empty bags of chips, half drunk bottles of soda and water, and his clothes, dirty and clean, mixed in his room as if a tornado hit. But you had also seen him at his best, competing at his swim meets against the biggest names in the nation and locally combined, and during his practices where he’d still show the same persistence and motivation. Jungkook wanted to become a professional swimmer, and his ambitions were something you had always been supportive of and found admiring. He always left you questioning what your goals were, and how you were going to get there.

Jungkook snaps his fingers in front of your eyes before sitting down on the bench in front of you with his lunch. "What are you thinking of so deeply? Or are you staring at that guy over there?" He questions, tilting his head curiously.

"Oh, sorry, I just got caught up in my thoughts." You shake your head at the thought of having feelings for him before grabbing your chopsticks and digging into your lunch. "You're not thinking about the girl that just confessed to me in the lunch line, are you?"

"Wait—what? Again?"

"Yeah," He says, reaching into your lunch to steal a bite of some of your side dishes. "She was telling me how she thought that you liked me but since you never really tried confessing, this could be her opportunity to ask me out. I like that women these days are taking the initiative. Girl power," Jungkook pumps a fist up before poking through your lunch again. You slap his hand again and grimace. "Circling back to the main topic... So what did you say in return?"

"I told her to be patient and that you'd ask me out."

You choke on some rice, coughing as you grab the water that Jungkook hands over to you and chugging it down. "You told her I was going to ask you out?"

"Remember this morning? I said that you're the only girl in my life."

You couldn't help but think about what he said for the rest of the day. You're the only girl in my life. Groaning, you slide your arms on your desk with your hands in your hair, tousling it in slight frustration. He couldn't keep saying things like that; it made your heart flutter.

"Hey," A classmate, Yura, turns around in her seat in front of you, tapping your arms that were covering your face. She was a friend you made several years back, now coincidentally having the same classes as you. "What?" You mutter, peeking in between your palms. "I heard another girl confessed to Jungkook again during lunch." You sigh, letting your hands fall back onto the desk. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well," Yura starts, pushing her seat back to move closer to you. She's sitting backwards in her chair  with a bright smile spread on her face. She loved to bother you in every way possible but beside that, she was equally of a great friend as Jungkook had been to you. "I'm curious as to why he hasn't dated anyone yet. No one here sparks an interest?"

"Well," You mimic her with a laugh trailing afterwards. "Are you hoping you can spark an interest?" She waves her hand and shakes her head, dismissing the assumption. "Oh, no no, I'm just curious. He just seems like the type to want to date around but he won't even glance at a girl. Is he gay?" 

You pull out a notebook from your bag when you notice your teacher walking into the classroom, rolling your eyes at her comment and nod your head to gesture the teacher's presence. "He mentioned before he wanted to focus on just becoming a swimmer. Maybe that's it."

"Okay fine, fine, I'll drop it. Anyway, let me come over today! I've been dying to try that new candy you bought from that store downtown. I haven't been recently..."

Later that day, on your walk to your house with Yura, she stops in her tracks and drags you aside to hide behind a tree. "What—"

"Hush!" She spits, peeping out from the side as you wipe her saliva that sprayed on your face. "Disgusting, Yura. What are you looking at?" She tugs on the sleeve of your uniform and you both sneak a look from behind the tree. "It's Jungkook. Who is that girl?"

You see him opening the gates in front of his house with a female, who looks around your age, tracking behind him as he readily unlocks the front door to his house. She looked pretty – although that was presumption since you didn't really know what her actual features were other than from behind. But her hair was lusciously long, and she had a petite body, appearing to be Jungkook's ideal type. You haven't seen her before, so who was she? He never really had any female friends other than you. "Guess he brings girls home after all."

The two of you quickly make way to your house, rushing up the stairs as your mom shouts at you from the kitchen. "Stop running! You're going to slip in your socks!"

Yura already had her backpack dropped at the door of your bedroom, peering through the window as she bends down below the windowsill's height. "Look! She's in his room." You had a perfect view of Jungkook's bedroom from your own. Sometimes you'd catch yourself looking at him changing his shirt, or doing his homework. There were moments where that's where he'd be able to contact you if your phone died, too.

"I'm not looking," You respond, grabbing her stuff from the floor and placing on an unoccupied chair. "That's an invasion of privacy, Yura."

"They're talking," She commentates, ducking below at times when either of them face her direction. "What are they saying? What do you think they're saying?"

You walk toward Yura before pulling the blinds down and it hits her fingers. "Ah! What was that for?"

"Stop spying, Yura!" In all honesty, you just couldn't bring yourself to see him be with some girl, especially if she's been in his room. "They could be doing some intimate stuff. Are you trying to get free porn? Do you not have that at home?" She groans in return, falling back onto the floor. "I really wanted to see something juicy."

"Let's lose our virginity to each other," Jungkook proposes, fiddling with his fingers, trying to evade your gaze. "Eventually, we're going to have to do it with someone, but our firsts... wouldn't it be more comfortable with each other?" It was around 8pm, and Yura had already gone home. Jungkook threw a pebble at your window to gain your attention so you could come over to “talk.” He said it was urgent. This was urgent?

"You're not a virgin?" You let slip from your lips. "Sorry, I just... I assumed that you already gave yourself to someone because I saw someone in your room earlier."

"You peeked through my window?" He cocks a brow, finally locking eyes with yours. Your face was flushed in embarrassment, lips pink and slightly swollen from chewing on it so anxiously and hair unkempt from the friendly rough play with each other before. Jungkook knew he made jokes here and there about how you were the only girl in his life for him but he truly met it. He always had lingering feelings for you, but he was afraid of getting rejected then losing the friendship between the two of you.

"Accidentally," You lie, falling back onto the bed and looking up at the ceiling. "I'll be honest. I thought you slept with her. I thought you slept with a lot of girls."

"I'd tell you. Even if you didn't want to hear. I feel like I can't hide those things from you." He interjects, lying back onto the bed beside you, turning his head to observe your expressions. "I want to lose my first time to you."

"Wouldn't it be weird?" You turn to meet your eyes with his, tapping your fingers together restlessly. "You'd see me naked. It'll change the entire view of our friendship."

"That could never happen — negatively, I mean."

It didn’t take much convincing when it came to Jungkook. You’d do anything for him and likewise. He never failed to go above and beyond for you, extending his hand whenever you needed it. And you? Well, you felt the same way. "Then... okay. Let's do it."

It was just another Saturday night, where you'd plan to stay over at Jungkook's for a marathon of a kdrama the two of you found interest in recently. There were snacks and drinks in his room, and he brought the bedsheets, blankets and pillows onto the floor to get closer to the small TV monitor he had in his room. You both sat at an arms distance, and you were hugging one of the pillows while you were throwing another piece of popcorn into your mouth before you hear the door creek open and his mom peers in. "Another movie night?" She asks with a smile, handing Jungkook a plate of cut-up watermelon. He nods and thanks his mom before she closes the door with a goodnight.

"Ah, she's so nice. She knows I love watermelons the most." You comment, drinking some water to clear your palette before reaching for a slice. Taking a bite, juices spill out of your mouth, signaling with your hands to get Jungkook to get you a napkin as you shove the rest into your mouth. He gives you a napkin but doesn't let go, leaving his hands in yours. Furrowing your brows, you manage to say with cheeks filled with watermelon, "What are you doing—" Jungkook was already leaning in, licking the spill. He traces it with his lips before meeting with yours, moving in closer with his free hand on your waist.

What is he doing? You felt gross. A wash of emotions flush through your face when you realize you're not dressed for this. Was he trying to do your first time now? And how? Your hair was loosely tied up in a bun, wearing a baggy hoodie with some shorts that you quickly grabbed from one of your drawers. You felt so insecure. You didn't even have makeup on — at least if you did, you wouldn't look so... average. Jungkook was handsome, sexy, and cute. But when you saw yourself in the mirror, you couldn't even call yourself beautiful or ugly... just average. Was Jungkook going to lose his virginity to someone who didn't even look at anything he would want to remember?

You didn't move. He took the lead for a couple moments before reclining back, bumping his forehead with yours, lips swollen from the tugging of the kiss. "I think... tonight is the night. Can we do it tonight?"

"I don't really feel... attractive enough right now." You confess after swallowing the remains of the fruit. "Trust me," He says between his breaths that seemed a bit heavier. "You're attractive right now." Letting go of your hand, he leans against his bed on the floor before lifting you from your waist to straddle him. "It feels effortless this way."

Moving closer, you try to sit down completely on him, hands confusingly trying to find a placement before he grabs them and guides you to wrap them around his neck. He groans, raising your hips slightly to lose contact with his. "Sorry, I'm kind of hard and it hurts when you press down that hard," He reveals, ears brimming in red. You immediately back away before he brings you back closer. "Sorry—"

"Don't be sorry," Jungkook says before pulling you into another kiss, hands gripping onto your thighs before maneuvering them up and down your legs. You slowly reiterate his motions, opening your lips slightly for him to slip his tongue in. Your fingers comb through his hair before he pulls away for a moment, panting uneven patterns compared to yours. "My hormones are raging, and your shorts are just really short. You're not even wearing a bra," He states as his hands begin to roam around your bottom before he slides them underneath your hoodie to feel your bare skin. "You're beautiful." Oh, that made my stomach feel weird.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting delicate kisses, following a suck and a nip afterwards that made you feel slightly uncomfortable but at the same time pleasurable. Unconsciously, you move your hips into his before a faint moan escapes his lips. "Sorry," You apologize, lifting yourself up, only for his hands to shove them back down, grinding his hips into yours. Suddenly, you felt warm down there.

Jungkook takes a moment to take off his t-shirt, exposing his built chest. You had noticed he had been working out lately, but you never got to see the results of it. He tugs on the hem of your hoodie, giving you a look. "Can I take this off?" You slouch a bit, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I kind of have a junk food belly at the moment." He lets out a chuckle, pinching your stomach a bit before shaking his head. "I think it's attractive, please let me take it off." You hesitate, but comply anyways and he discards the material. Your chest falls in his sight, and he felt himself twitch in his pants before grabbing a breast and letting the other one's nipple slip into his mouth. Your hands find the crown of his head and tug on his hair gently, earning a hum from you. "Feels good?" He asks, and you reply with only a nod before he lays your body back onto the floor, holding onto your head before slipping a pillow underneath.

Jungkook plants a kiss on your lips before tailing down to your neck, and then your chest, playing with your nipple before leading his hand down into your pants, finding a place in between your legs then brushing your clit. He leans back up to kiss your ear before whispering, "Show me how to make you feel good." You nod, feeling a bit flustered, still placing your hand on top of his outside of your shorts. You guide him, and when he touches the right spot, you can't help but gasp and close your legs. "Please?" He begs, and you open your legs back up for him as he slips a finger in. You were warm and wet around him, and his breath quickened against your ear. Jungkook pulls in and out before adding another finger, earning a whimper from you and he slows down, noticing your face crinkle up in slight pain. He wanted to stretch you enough for him so you wouldn't be in as much pain later.

The feeling eventually subsided and replaced with pleasure. You stop his hand when you feel yourself almost hitting your high and lock eyes with him as he raises a brow questioningly. "I'm ready."

Both of your pants were off, and your legs were spread for him as you watched him lean to his bedside table to grab condoms from a drawer, opening on and sliding it onto his shaft. He positions himself outside of you, looking up to meet your gaze before gifting you a peck on the lips, slowly entering in. "Ah," You wince in pain, as he moans quietly from feeling your warmth. "I'm going to move slowly, so please tell me when you're ready." He says, lips pressed against your collarbone, holding himself back from letting it go.

After several slow thrusts, you squeeze his arm to signal him to move faster. He eagerly obeys, quickening his movements before he feels his stomach clenching moments later. "I think I'm about to cum," He says, body tensing above you as strings of cum paint your inner walls. Jungkook's chest is against yours when he collapses from reaching his high, face in your neck with his fringe damp and body glistening with a layer of sweat. He regains his composure before lifting his head and giving you another kiss on your lips. "I'm sorry, that was fast, you were just so tight and warm— do you want me to help you finish?—"

You lay, hair a mess, no sign of the tie anywhere, skin sticky, uneven breaths, and cheeks flushed crimson. It felt good— even though it didn't last for long— but it felt good. Shaking your head, you pull him in for a longer embrace. "Don't worry about it, it was good. I'm content," You say honestly. You didn't need to finish because you felt like you were at your high already.

The weekend passes, and Monday hits.

"Wait... you're telling me that your first kiss and your first time was with him? And you've never wanted to date him?" Yura says astoundingly. "But you're still friends. There's no way you don't have feelings for him. You like him, don't you?"

You scratch the back of your head before shrugging your shoulders, opening the textbook laying in front of you. "I don't know, Yura, you're asking me a lot of questions right now. I'm not sure how to reply." It was the middle of a break session in class, and people were sitting around, talking or playing games, so it was rowdy enough for the two of you to have a conversation without anyone overhearing. "That's what someone with a crush says," She responds, shaking her head before tapping her pen against the table. "Maybe you should confess to him or something."

"Confess to who?"

You felt your heart drop for a moment -- no one heard anything, did they? Eyes looking up at the person whose body lingers, you notice that there are two people standing at the end of your desk. "Oh, Jungkook, Hoseok, you scared me," Yura has her hand on her chest, inhaling in a deep breath. "I decided to drop by your class since Jungkook is too busy to hang out with me today," Gleams Hoseok, arm hanging around Jungkook's shoulder.

"You guys didn't answer my initial question, who are you confessing to?" Jungkook asks. Although the question was supposed to be directed to the both of you, his eyes were directly locked onto you. "Uh, pft, no one," You turn your head to look at Yura, stare hinting for her to help. Luckily, she reads this and claps her hands together with a laugh. "Me! I should confess to a guy,"

"Oh, who?" Hoseok had already grabbed a chair and sat down at this point, suddenly interested in the conversation. "And how are you going to do it? Are you going to do it like those girls did for Jungkook?"

Jungkook shakes his head, and extends his arm out to shift Hoseok back in his seat. "No, I think you guys were trying to talk about someone else's confession, not yours, Yura."

The bell rings. Hoseok frowns, standing up before returning the chair back to the rightful owner, ruffling Jungkook's hair. "That's my signal to leave, please tell me what happens next!" He makes his way out of the classroom as Jungkook waves goodbye but keeps his stare at you. "Saved by the bell. But I expect a talk later."

Fuck.

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 11

“Don’t speak for me, Duarte,” Cardan says.

“Don’t boss me around.”

Previous

Read chapter 11 on AO3 or read below:

“But, just, if I had the choice,” I say, “I would rather be apart from society.”

We’ve gone around and around a few different points by now. The latest one is the Ghost reminding me that, since betas are one in a thousand, there are only three hundred thousand in the United States, which is less than the population of Wyoming, and I don’t know anyone from Wyoming. They can and do seek each other out, but in a lot of ways, chemical and social, they’re separated from everyone else.

“Would you?” asks the Ghost.

“Well…” I trail off, thinking of the Bomb and the Roach and how they, very possibly, endured de-designation one way or another. I don’t think that’s something I want for myself, not seriously. Sure, I could do without all the complications of heat, but would I like to go through life with dulled senses, knowing most of the population was experiencing something I never would?

The problem isn’t really that I hate being an omega, it’s that I spent my whole life watching alphas, surviving alphas. Wishing I had what they had.

I look at Cardan, who’s been preoccupied with picking at dirt under his fingernails this entire time. He wears a mask of boredom. I know he’s listening, though. He’s good at playing dumb.

“I want to be like them,” I hear myself say. “No, I want to be better than them. That’s all. That’s what it is. And how am I supposed to be better when I’m—” I gesture at myself. I know I look better now than I did before, but I am far from my peak.

Regarding me steadily, the Ghost says, “There’s power in what you are right now, you know. There’s power in driving people crazy for you. A well-placed omega can ruin a political negotiation, a business merger, a marriage. Start wars.”

“Helen of Troy,” I interject. We all know how that went. “That’s soft power. But I don’t want—want…”

I shiver in my chair and hug my arms to my chest. Cardan’s voice is dark and low when he says, “I don’t think she’s up for this discussion.”

The Ghost gives him an odd look, and I say, “No, I’m fine. It’s fine.” I quash down panic; the meds shouldn’t be wearing off this soon, but there’s nothing I can do about it. “I don’t want soft power. I want to be taken seriously.”

“Well, you got us to take you pretty seriously,” the Ghost replies. “Cardan takes you seriously.”

I snort. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Don’t speak for me, Duarte,” Cardan says.

“Don’t boss me around.”

“I think that when you get to college, or at least out into the real world, you’ll find it’s very different,” the Ghost continues.

“I live in the real world,” I retort.

“No, you live in a bubble. A rich person bubble. When there aren’t as many expectations—when there are just normal people—alphas and omegas don’t have as much trouble with each other.”

I press my lips together so I can’t remind him that my mom married an alpha and it didn’t exactly end well. “But systems of oppression still exist. How many omega presidents have we had?”

The Ghost holds up a hand. “We’ve been over this. I’m not saying they don’t.” He pauses. “It wasn’t a kind thing Madoc did, sending you to Insmire.”

I blink at him. “How did you know—”

“Well, we did have to do our research on you.” He presses his lips together. “Cardan said you went to school together.”

“Oh, right.” I feel foolish, and also defensive. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan pick up his head. “Well, Madoc isn’t kind. I mean, he can be, but—he isn’t.”

“No,” the Ghost agrees. “If he was kind, he would have sent you to the best multi-designation or omega prep school there was. But he didn’t let you have it easy. From what I know of him, he wanted to teach you to fight, on all fronts. And from where I’m sitting, it worked. I bet your sister isn’t a pushover either. Your twin?”

I almost laugh, thinking about Taryn fistfighting anyone. But I guess we did both learn to lie pretty well. I shrug my shoulders.

“You’ve had the worst of it in high school with entitled rich kids. The real world is more balanced, and you’re more than ready for it.” He pauses. “And there is one more thing, but I don’t think you’ll appreciate me saying it.”

“Go on.”

“Mating.”

Cardan makes a choked sound.

“I don’t mean sex,” the Ghost says, with a glance at him. “I mean finding a mate. It’s something I’ve thought about, as someone who can’t have it. Sure, betas get to fall in love like everyone else, but we don’t get to have that… connection. That belonging.”

Neither Cardan nor I speak for a moment. We are both too busy looking at the ground. “It’s a lot of pressure,” I say slowly. “What if you pick the wrong person? How do you know?”

“You might.” The Ghost sits back in his chair, seeming to retreat back into himself. I have the feeling this is the most he’s spoken in one go for a long time. Then he says, “But what if you pick the right one?”

I open my mouth to reply when I am hit by another full-body shiver, and then my cramps return with a vengeance. I whimper and wrap my arms around my abdomen. “Ow.”

“She’s getting worse.” It’s Cardan who says it. He sounds newly panicked. “You have to help her. I can’t do it.”

The Ghost raises his eyebrows. “It’s okay for me to help her now?”

“Yeah, well, you were doing alright, keeping her distracted, so I guess you’re ready for more responsibility.”

I blink up at the Ghost, who’s already standing from his chair. “You were distracting me? How long has it been?”

“A good couple of hours. You like to argue.” He helps me out of my seat. “He’s not as stupid as he looks, is he?”

“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “No, he isn’t.” Standing takes most of my concentration, but I look back over my shoulder at Cardan, who’s rigid like he’s grown roots. His hands have a white-knuckled grip on the side of the chair. He nods at me, and I nod back at him and let the Ghost lead me away.

The door to our cell-room had been left open while we were talking around the table, so it’s no longer as stuffy. I let out a groan of relief when I sink down onto the mattress. My gross, terrible mattress. My itchy blankets. I am so happy to be back in a visceral way that I don’t quite understand. Because it’s my “nest,” I guess. I want to wrap myself up in the blankets and curl up in a little ball, but the Ghost is still standing here.

“We have to lock Cardan in with you at night,” he says quietly. He sounds apologetic. “Especially if it’s only me on watch. There won’t always be eyes on him.”

I shrug. “He hates me. I’ll be fine.”

The Ghost’s mouth presses into a thin line.

“Oh, what?” I scoff. “You’re taking your eyes off him right now.”

“Yeah, because I can feel his eyes boring holes in my shirt.”

I snicker. I have decided that as far as people who’ve shot me go, the Ghost really isn’t so bad. “Hey,” I begin, wincing through another cramp, determined to keep distracting myself. “Why are you doing this? The Bomb said she’s sticking with whoever you work for because she owes them. Same for you?”

“No,” he says flatly. “I’m too far in to get out.”

“That can’t be true. I mean, if you go to the police, bargain for immunity in exchange for testimony…”

He gives me a dour look that says I’m being incredibly naive. “Ask me whose house this was.”

I blink at him, wondering if the connection should be obvious and the fever is slowing down my brain. “Whose house… was it?”

“It was being built as a weekend home for someone’s mistress. It was never finished.”

“Why? What happened to her?”

He looks me over, withdrawing further into himself. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you more medicine. You should rest. The second half is going to be harder than the first.”

“It is?” I ask, my voice sounding small and pathetic, but he has already left.

---

I don’t remember much about the next twenty-four hours. Just flashes, impressions, snippets of conversation. People are in and out of the room, making sure my water bottle is full, replacing it if it isn’t, giving me pills, for all the good they do. At first it’s the Ghost, but eventually it’s the Bomb, which means she’s come back. My ears, straining to pick out Cardan’s voice through the closed door, hear the Roach’s laugh, so he’s returned too.

It’s a bad day. It doesn’t take me long to sweat right through my dress, and it takes even less time for my shorts to soak through. The medicine can’t keep my temperature in check anymore, only drive it down to a balmy one hundred. I am miserable, and I am bored. There is nothing for me to do but stare at the wall, and even if there were, I probably couldn’t focus on it. My head feels like it’s being weighed down by a bag of rocks. The only thing that seems fully awake and alive is my libido, spiky and insistent. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this sick and this aroused. Masturbation doesn’t help. Nothing helps.

I am aware of Cardan coming back into the room, hours later. I am aware of his footsteps on the floor, the sound of him sitting heavily on the floor. I get a fresh waft of lavender; he showered again before coming in. Even though I had been dozing and wish again to be unconscious, I do pick up my head to look at him.

“Hi,” I say.

He raises one hand in greeting. “Hey.” He looks less like himself than ever, pale and drawn and wilting, and his brows are drawn. But he’s still handsome. Even the paleness benefits him, setting off his dark hair. Like a vampire. I have the urge to press my mouth to the column of his neck again.

Instead, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Aside from everything?” Cardan sighs. “I don’t know. The Bomb and the Roach came back, but something is weird. They wouldn’t talk about it in front of me.”

“Oh,” I say. That should mean something to me, but it doesn’t right now. I can’t fit the pieces together.

He sighs again, a longer sigh this time. “And I’m feeling like a pretty shitty alpha,” he says.

“Why?” I ask, drawing my knees in tighter to my chest. “Because you haven’t boned me yet?”

Another strangled noise escapes him. I’m getting used to those little squawks. “One, never say ‘boned’ again. And two, no.” He sounds sullen. He rakes his hand through his hair. “Because I’m not taking care of you.”

My brain short-circuits. “What?”

“I talked to the Roach about it.” He pauses. “I mean… if we were paired up, if we were doing this on purpose, it should be me. I should be helping you. Instead I have to let other people do it.”

“But we’re not paired up, and that is taking care of me. In these circumstances…”

I trail off, and he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It sucks,” I say, as if agreeing with him. “And it’s—I’m just scared.”

He tsks, tossing his hair out of his face. “Nothing scares you.”

I pull the blankets tighter around my shoulders. “That’s not true. I’m scared all the time. It’s why I’m so angry at everything, everyone. At myself.”

Cardan is quiet for a moment, then says, “I guess I get that.”

I wonder if he does. There is a lot I still don’t know about Cardan. “If the last year has shown me anything, it’s that I can’t control anybody else’s behavior. Locke. Taryn. Valerian.” I shift. “Just me. It’s just me. I’m the only thing in my control.”

He smiles, weakly. “Slow down, Hamilton.”

“It’s Burr. And that’s not the lyric.”

“Whatever. Nerd.”

My own smile is transient. “Anyway, now I’m not even in my control. Now I have to be afraid of myself. So that… it just sucks.”

“Yeah.” After another stretch of silence, Cardan asks, “Are you afraid of me?”

I don’t answer him right away. Because the answer, of course, is yes. Yes, I have been afraid of him for such a long time. Yes, I am afraid of what he represents, the power and the system set against me. Yes, I am afraid of the way he affects me, the things I want to do, the vulnerability in me.

But the answer, in some strange way, as we have languished in our cell, has also become no.

“I,” I begin, but then there is another urgent cramp, another painful jolt of arousal on its heels, and I groan. “Oh, god.”

Cardan’s eyes widen in alarm. “You don’t have to answer that,” he says quickly. “Just… just relax. Just chill. I’ll stay over here.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I manage through gritted teeth, clutching my stomach. It is, of course, worse.

Trying to get comfortable, I toss and turn for ages, but I must fall asleep through the pain because the next thing I know, Cardan is gone again, and I am holding a scrap of soft cloth in my arms. On instinct, I bring it to my nose. It smells like Cardan, that musky smell he’s taken on in the last couple of days. Warmth bursts in my chests like a firework. It’s his shirt. He left his shirt with me. What is he wearing now?

It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I nuzzle the fabric. It is not exactly soft, a little grimy from lack of washing, but saturated with his scent. I am amazed at how my brain calms just from this one, simple thing. My horniness problem is not solved, though, so I slide my hand into my shorts to take care of it, my face still pressed to Cardan’s shirt. It muffles my cries when I come, but I’m honestly too far gone to care if I am heard. After I am finished, I wriggle out of my dress, pull the shirt over my head, and promptly fall back asleep.

I doze fitfully. Someone comes to replace the water bottle, which briefly wakes me long enough that I roll around for a few minutes before I’m out again. I don’t mind that the mattress is lumpy or that the blankets scratch my skin; whenever something begins to bother me too much, I stick my nose in the collar of Cardan’s shirt and breathe in, which is usually enough to soothe me.

I’m not sure whether I’m dreaming or awake when I feel someone press the bottle to my lips and say, “Drink, Jude.” It sounds like the Roach, or maybe Madoc. I open my mouth and manage a couple of swallows of water before putting my head back down and dragging the blankets up over my shoulders.

“Is she still asleep?” I hear Cardan ask. His voice is hushed. The smell of him doesn’t bother me so much now that I have his shirt, but I do scent him and groan softly, pressing my face into the pillow.

“Mostly,” says probably-the-Roach.

There’s a pause, then Cardan asks, “Can I do it?”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I know, but I want to help.” Something shuffles, like he’s kicked at the floor. “She’s only like this because of me.”

The Roach sighs, then says, “All right. Come over, but be careful.”

I hear Cardan’s footsteps on the floor, and then a hand pushes some of my hair off of my sweaty face, dragging down to skim my cheek. I lean into his hand. It feels so good to be touched.

“Jude, hey,” he says quietly. “Can you pick your head up a little higher for me?”

There’s something beneath his voice, a dark undertow that pulls me down. I find that I want to do what he says, which isn’t a remotely comforting thought. But I pick up my head, and he keeps one hand against my jaw as he tips the jug against my mouth. A little water trickles down my neck, wetting the shirt he lent me, but I swallow most of it down.

“That’s good.” He takes the jug away and sets it back down on the floor. I can hear the strain in his words, like he’s fighting with himself. “Really good.”

His hand finds my hair again, and I would do anything for him to just keep running his fingers through it, but then the Roach says, “I think that’s enough.”

Cardan disentangles his fingers from my hair and stands; I hear him step back. “It’s just so weird,” he says. “It’s weird to see her like this. She hates—she never asks for help. I’ve never seen her vulnerable.”

“Well, her body’s treating it like a sickness,” the Roach says. “But we’re looking out for her. Another, what, day or so? Less than a day? And she should be free and clear. And hopefully by then this will all be over and we can let you guys out.”

“Yeah.” There’s a pause, and then, “Thanks.”

The Roach chuckles. “Don’t thank me, kid. We kidnapped you.”

“I know, but.” Cardan hesitates. “Is it weird that in some ways I’d rather be here than home?”

“Pretty weird, yeah.”

“Yeah.” Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he asks, “Jude?”

I say nothing, do nothing. I want to keep eavesdropping. He wouldn’t be saying half of this if he thought I was awake. So I keep my breathing low and even, and let him say what he wants.

But he says nothing, and for a second I think he’s getting ready to leave me alone again. Then I hear him take a step—toward me—and his hand is briefly back in my hair. I feel warm lips against my forehead, soft and fleeting like the brush of a butterfly’s wings. I have to fight my every instinct not to lean up into the kiss and give myself away, but then his hand and lips are both gone. I hear the quick retreat of his footsteps, the closing of the door.

“It’s not fair,” I whisper to the empty cell. “You can’t just leave me with that.”

But he can, and he did, because he assumed I was asleep. He left me with the memory of a forehead kiss, with a whispered conversation to dissect, and a tingling feeling throughout my entire body.

“I hate you so much,” I say, curling closer around his shirt. There is no answer but my erratic heartbeat, drumming out a truth I am almost, but not quite, ready to hear.

Next

[nam-nam-joon]

comptine d'un autre été, l'après-midi

or: yoongi's song

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Genre: meet-cute, slow born, fluff

Wordcount: 13.7k

Summary: when your favourite study spot is suddenly unavailable, a fit of annoyance and the tinkling of piano keys lead you to discover an entirely new space. and along with it, someone to keep company.

The library's secretary looked down her nose at you, standing half a step below the desk.

Her voice was notably cooler as she spoke again.

"The section you would like to access is closed for cleaning for the entire week from today on. We apologize for any inconveniences, but there's nothing to be done about it. You will have to go and study elsewhere, I'm afraid."

The old crone leaned back in her chair, her beady eyes fixated on the screen of her computer once more. The chain on her glasses jingled softly.

You turned away from her, staring into the rows of bookshelves accusingly while the fingers around a stack of papers holding it up to your chest tapped furiously.

No studying in the library today.

Great.

There was no other place as good to study in as that particular nook you'd found while one day idling between the rows; nowhere else could you focus so well, so thoroughly. Hours could pass while you were engrossed in the material, and the prospect of being robbed of that, today of all days - and furthermore, for the whole week?

The sun falling through the narrow, high windows suddenly didn't seem as bright and cheery anymore.

Briefly you debated just sitting at one of the long tables in the main area, with everyone else - but quickly scrapped that thought. There were more people than usual there, courtesy of the partial blockage no doubt, and you knew it just wouldn't work out.

Still steaming, you turned a corner and pushed through the first set of doors you could find, really needing some air after this monumental setback.

The fresh breeze hit your face. It slipped through your jacket and caused a shiver to run down your entire form.

Blinking against the light you tried to orientate yourself.

A few steps forward on the stones surrounding this entrance, green with moss here and there, didn't bring the expected clarity concerning your surroundings that you'd hoped for; but instead you realized this was simply a part of campus you apparently had never seen before.

The curiosity about this new, uncharted area grew into the hollow left by the frustration. If you wouldn't be able to study in your favourite spot, you could at least roam the area here and see what mysteries might be hidden.

There was a lot of grass between the occasional tree, on a long hill softly sloping down into the residential area across a street down below. Then there were the campus buildings with their windows. Most had their blinds drawn, and only those on the higher floors were cracked open to let some air in.

It was so quiet.

Somewhere almost out of hearing range was a tingling sound, like windchimes.

You took a deep breath.

There was nowhere specific to go.

Already the stress about meeting your deadlines, the library closing down, it began to lose its edge.

The tinkling came wafting over with the breeze again and you turned your face towards it, feet beginning to move before you'd fully settled on what to do, where to go next.

The stones forming the path around the building were barely visible under the encroaching greenery. They cushioned your steps and softened the ground. A corner lay ahead, and after turning you were presented with more green space between two buildings, eventually ending in a wall that was most likely part of the ancient university campus, overgrown with ivy but still standing strong against time.

The tinkling had shifted from vaguely sounding like windchimes to definitely piano tunes, but it was still nice.

About three quarters to the wall stood an old picnic table under a maple tree.

The surface was a bit uneven, the table was made out of wood and students and time alike had both carved into the soft material.

The seat was slightly damp as well - you remembered the few drops this morning on your way to your lecture - but with your jacket placed over the seat it was a nice spot.

Great, even, as soon as the sun peeked through the clouds again, bringing warmth into the still air of the secluded spot.

Whoever was playing piano was probably close by, you thought after working on the sheets you'd brought for a bit.

The tunes perfectly fit into the overall mood resting in this place, underlining the tranquil state lasting over it.

It was like you had stepped into a pocket universe, with the general buzz of campus being left behind.

The chiming of a bell tower roused you from your work pace. Not having fully arrived in the real world yet you reached for your phone to check the time after counting the rings of the bell - was it really 5pm already?

Apparently it was, and you hurried to collect everything and stuff it into your bag.

Shouldering it, you brushed off your jacket and looked over the place to make sure you hadn't left anything behind once more before it really was time to leave if you still wanted to catch your usual train home.

The music was silent as you took your leave, and you wondered for how long it had been like that already.

Pushing through the doors back into the library was like waking from a pleasant dream. Even though it was the library, and as such calmer than the rest of campus, there was still the usual ruckus. A myriad of voices whispering and creating the white noise backdrop for shoes squeaking, chairs dragging over the floor, doors closing and the occasional shout.

The big communal university spaces were almost too loud to bear and you squinted your eyes at the air saturated with sounds.

Once the entrance hall gave you free and you were hurrying towards the public transport stations it was better again, but there was still a lot more technical sounds digging into your ear drums. You resolved to plugging your headphones in and were able to breathe a little easier while on your commute home, even without music playing.

The next day was free, no lectures to attend, but you still returned to get some more work done.

For a while you were afraid you wouldn't be able to find the picnic table under the maple tree again; that it had all been a wonderful, too good to be true, dream - but your nook in the library was still closed off and there was the door you'd gone through yesterday.

The table was still there, as was the tree, and today the wood was fully dry and birds were chirping in the ivy on the wall.

With a drink in hand and happiness upon finding the wonderful small place again in your heart you sat down to work again, and even though it was tedious and required a lot of forced attention, it somehow felt a little better doing it out here.

Every once in a while you had to make a break and go for a toilet run, refilling your water bottle or simply eating a snack you'd brought.

Between yesterday and today you hadn't seen anyone else out here, and so had little qualms about leaving your stuff unattended. Safe your phone and wallet, of course.

The sun, blinking through the clouds now and then, slowly wandered over the sky.

It must have been early afternoon when you lifted your head after a particularly nasty paragraph and heard the piano play again.

A smile spread on your face as you stretched your arms and allowed yourself a break, sat back and just listened to the notes.

Whoever was playing was good.

Not that you were an expert, but your ears liked it and that was what primarily counted.

Occasionally there was a break in the flowing tune, when whoever was playing went back and redid a couple notes, sometimes once, sometimes needing two attempts, until they were satisfied and continued.

You smiled and let your thoughts wander, momentarily forgetting about your work.

The week of not having access to your library nook went by much faster than anticipated.

On the following monday you stood in the foyer, waiting for a friend, when the small sign "Library fully open again!" caught your eye.

You stared at it for a moment longer, suddenly remembering that you had only found the almost magical table away from the craze of reality solely because there had been cleaning business at work cutting you off your old favourite spot.

You were still mentally trying to puzzle everything out when Jin came floundering around the corner, steps wide and an easy smile spreading on his face at your sight.

"-to one~!"

"What?" You looked up, and the expression on the other's face fell a bit.

"Aha! So you weren't listening at all, after all."

"Sorry. Bit caught up in my thoughts. Was there something you wanted to say?"

"Will you be telling me your secret how you worked through the entire material to that first book we're reading, already? Like… That was inhumanely fast. I know you're good, but honestly. Tell me your secrets." He poked a finger into the soft area between ribcage and belt, and you swerved to the side and away from him to escape it.

"A brilliant work ethic and iron self-discipline!" You chirped and Jin rolled his eyes with an overly dramatic sigh. He hooked an arm around your shoulder and dragged you into his side.

"If the Prof is threatening to let me fail this course, will you tell me then?"

"Kim Seokjin you better not be deliberately slacking off."

"I wasn't!" He pouted, steering you into the right hallway. "Not before, anyways. But if there's a cool new drug like Why-Phy that you're taking to get done sooner, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course. It's either Why-Phy or blue crystal meth, Jinnie, you know me too well."

The brunet laughed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

Three weeks since the library had reopened and you still had yet to return to the comfortable little chair next to the table with its small reading light.

You'd been lucky with the weather.

So far it had only rained or been too windy to sit outside longer on days you were too busy to get work done next to the lectures, or had to go early because of your job on the side.

Looking up through the leaves on the tree, blinking against the sun, you hoped it would continue to stay like this.

It felt so nice to be here, so private.

The windows leading into the yard were never not covered with blinds, at least the ones in the part of the building you were looking at frequently whenever your eyes needed a break.

The most noise was the wind in the tree or the ivy; occasionally students would sit on the other side of the wall and have a chat but that was about it.

That, and the piano music.

By now you were fairly certain it came from a room on the first floor, somewhere above the place you were sitting at, but there was no way to look into any of the rooms there.

As you turned and squinted up to them once more, not really seeing them but more wondering what might lay beyond the glass, something moving caught your eye.

Had it been an animal?

You blinked to clear your vision, but by then whatever had caused the disturbance had disappeared.

Maybe someone had looked down?

The uncomfortable feeling hadn't taken root fully before you shooed it away; surely it had been something else, a reflection of a passing bird, probably. And even if someone had looked out and seen you sitting here, so what? It wasn't illegal.

You ended your self-assigned break and went back to the material, but the thought of someone watching you, intruding on the privacy you'd enjoyed here, didn't fully leave your mind.

After finishing up early for the day you decided to go try and see if there was a way into the building you'd sat in front of so often now, and if, maybe, you'd be able to find the room the music was coming from every other day.

By the time you had bested the maze of hallways and never before used by you doors leading into other unknown parts of the campus, it was late already.

You tried some of the doors that you thought were on the right floor, but all of them were locked and there was no music coming from anywhere, either.

Disappointed, you went home.

It was the weekend afterwards, but on the next monday you were back, now finding your way to the remote, barely used building a little easier already. There was a nice long break before your next lecture and you were curious to explore more.

You held the door open after passing through as someone approached from the inside, and then went on. Silence lasted on the hallways here.

A window going out from the staircase showed the familiar corner, with the last bit of the library barely visible behind it, and you felt satisfied knowing this was where you'd wanted to go.

On the first floor you paused to catch your breath.

The lights were on overhead, but no other person was in sight.

The doors were locked as well, much like they had been on friday.

You had almost given up hope when a knob turned in your palm and you almost fell into the room behind it as the door gave away.

Dust danced in the spare light that fell through the windows.

Sheets of paper littered the floor. A few tables were pushed to the walls, there was an old cupboard missing its two front doors. More paper and empty binders were stacked in the exposed compartments.

What dominated the room though was the grand piano in its middle.

The shiny black surface beckoned to be touched by your fingertips, and you couldn't hold back from running them over the sleek paint.

It seemed old, if the slightly rusted wheels at the bottom of the pillars it was standing on were anything to go by, but it looked very well kept.

The cover lowered over the keys opened without sound. Black and white keys shared the space underneath it.

It felt wrong to push them, entice sound when you knew there were usually much more skilled hands at work here, and so you gently put the cover back and let your gaze explore the room more.

A big sheet covered a mixpult along one of the walls, several electric keyboards were stacked on the floor beside it.

The walls were a faded yellow which must've been nice once but now looked stale.

There was more paper around the piano, discarded sheet music, printed and self-written, you noticed with surprise as you bent down to inspect it.

Maybe a handful were pinned to the wall closest to the piano, exclusively hand written and, by the looks of it, self-composed.

Whoever was working their magic here so often really had a passion, it seemed, and it made you wonder why they weren't busy doing this over in the faculty for music.

Then again, you mused while stepping up to the window, this place was incredible in getting creative juices flowing. You'd experienced it yourself with work, could only guess at how it must be for someone so musically inclined.

Your picnic table under the maple tree was maybe three steps to the right underneath the window, in direct line of sight from where you stood.

It felt almost weird, knowing that if whoever was practicing here so often had even only once stood up and walked towards the window to look outside had most likely seen you sitting under the tree.

A moment longer you hung after your thoughts.

Then you blinked and remembered that you were probably not welcome here, with the expensive piano and the private compositions, and quickly and silently left the room again, making sure to close the door behind you.

You didn’t go back again in the afternoon, but as you sat down two days later, the tinkling of the keys was drifting down to your spot once more. Smiling about their company, you focused on your work.

It seemed like good things wouldn't last.

The professors heaped enormous amounts of extra essays, excerpts and transcriptions upon each of your heads, and caught between balancing your work and study life, along with having to prep multiple presentations, you were left yearning for the calm spot beneath the tree.

Namjoon had managed to get you to admit where you'd been vanishing off to over the past weeks; after loudly proclaiming that even though the library had been squeaky clean for weeks now he had yet to see you return to your spot.

"Well maybe I found a better spot!" You defended your absence, over lunch in the cafeteria.

"Aha!" Jin yelled, making everyone in a five meter radius around him flinch. "So you have been hiding! I knew it."

"It's just a tiny spot under a tree, outside the old Uni's wall. Stumbled upon it by accident, but a total good find."

“I see.” Namjoon was too intelligent to not notice you didn’t really want to talk about this and soon after dropped the topic.

Rain ran down the windows in streams and you sighed at its presence.

Like this there was no way to get out to the table, and even if it would have cleared up instantly - the wood would need at least several hours in direct sunshine to dry.

Seemed like the last of your luck had run out.

With the lighting from inside the hallways the world outside was hardly recognizable.

You loved the library, and especially the little nook, but there was just something about that table and the tree out among the downpour that was a lot more appealing now than your old favourite spot.

Sitting down anywhere else seemed impossible. Especially, you dimly thought to yourself, especially because the music would be missing.

It was ten times better than listening to your own stuff, because you didn't have to choose what to hear and couldn't simply skip tracks. A little like radio; you could just hear what was given to you, but unlike radio there were no ads.

You found yourself on ground level of the deserted building, hand on the railing and foot on the first step of the stairs before you realized - you could just sit down somewhere close to the room, listen if someone was playing today and do your work there.

Fuelled by this revelation you took the steps two at once and arrived in the hallway a little out of breath, with your heart pounding not only from the exercise.

There it was. The music.

Inexplicably content about the recent developments you picked a clean enough looking spot on the floor, opened your bag and pulled out your notes.

It wasn't as nice as sitting outside, you came to see. Natural light was a lot better to read and work alongside texts with, and the artificial kind provided here could simply not compete.

Still, with the musical undertones, you were able to cross at least some of the workload off before you allowed yourself to sit back against the wall, ignore the stupid pages in front of you and simply listen to what was being played.

It had shifted in the last days. Had it been pieces vaguely familiar to you at the start had the melodies become more and more unrecognizable over time, and now you sat a few steps from the door, eyes closed and listening, thoughts drifting further from the sheets surrounding you by the minute.

The melody was low, subdued but still driving. It sounded like something that would play at the start of a movie, a car ride maybe, with the glowing lights of a city pouring through the windows but no sound audible but this song.

It felt like the car was on its way somewhere, somewhere important, and the people inside the car knew of the importance of this destiny but were too overwhelmed to talk about it.

Maybe the scene would end at the sea, the viewer expecting to hear the ocean's waves crash against the cliff, the gulls crying overhead, but the song would continue playing.

Softly, the tune changed, and you furrowed your brows.

The melody gradually lightened until the great weight was fully lifted from it and the scene with the car and the lights and the muted ocean seemed entirely unfitting. This was more like spring, breathing in the warming air, seeing the sun again after months, that kind of stuff.

You were still drifting, trying to think of what else it reminded you of when the silence became more pronounced. Whoever it was had stopped playing, and you opened your eyes, falling from the small clouds of dreaming back into the shabby hallway.

Steps rang out behind the door, a window closed and you stared at your bag and the spread out work in horror. There was no time to pack it all up.

The door clicked open.

A pair of dark eyes stared into yours, the look of surprise at so unexpectedly seeing the other on both your faces.

Black hair reached over eyebrows, barely visible through a split in the strands.

A hand clutched what looked like a set of keys, the sleeve of the dark hoodie almost slipping over it.

He was first to break the moment of pure surprise. Clearing his throat he stepped out of the room fully, pulled the door shut behind him.

By then you'd managed to look down on the orderly mess you'd made and back up.

"I really like your music." You attempted a smile. The guy, likely not much older than you, pressed his lips into a line.

"Thanks."

It sounded softer than his expression had led you to believe. His eyes flitted over the floor for a bit before he spoke again, not having moved much more than a step. "You really shouldn't be sitting around here, I don't know when it got cleaned last."

"Ah." You twirled your pen. "Well…"

The dark haired stranger sniffed and buried his hands in his pants’ pockets, squaring his shoulders in a way that made him look incredibly uncomfortable.

"Did I interrupt something? Do you need me to move or-" You trailed off.

"No! No, no." He was quick to interrupt, one hand stretched out to halt your beginning frenzy of packing up. "No, it's alright, you weren't- doing… anything." He coughed and rubbed his neck with the free hand. "You… You usually sit outside, under the tree, right?"

You met his gaze, saw his eyes glinting once before he looked away, scuffing a used Vans sneaker on the floor.

"-Yeah, that's true. Couldn't really, today…" Gesturing towards the rain-streaked window, the other followed your line of sight and huffed.

"Yeah, weather's been shit all day. The library's probably chock full, too." He trailed off, and you observed with interest how he seemed to build himself up to the next thing to say.

"I've been… seeing you. Not wanting to sound like… a creep or so, I just- I noticed you sat outside quite often."

You smiled, and his shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Yeah! I wandered around after the library was closed for cleaning the other day, and came across this place. It's amazing. So quiet and basically nobody around… and the background music is great, too."

He looked down on his shoes at your words but you could see how one corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

"This was by the way a major factor for coming here today. It's just- Quiet, void of any people? Very few distractions? Plus free music? There's just no other place where I can get all that."

He rolled his eyes but the smile on his lips broadened. When he moved his head you could see the tips of his ears peeking through his hair, both a healthy shade of red.

"Min Yoongi." He held out his hand after studying you for a moment. "Resident ambience dealer, apparently."

Grinning, you took his larger palm, feeling the bones in his thin fingers as you told him your own name. "-Resident study freak and avid listener to Min Yoongi's compositions."

He grumbled at that. "You listen to piano a lot?"

"Not really. Only when I come here."

This time his eyes stayed on you for longer, and he leaned his back against the opposite wall while slowly easing closer to the ground.

"Then how did you know it was my own stuff I was playing?"

You tugged some papers closer by their corners, beginning to shepherd them together.

"I was in there some time ago, when you weren't there. Wanted to know where the music was coming from, took me ages to even find a way into this place. Your room is really messy, you know that?"

His face was halfway turned away again but at the humour in your voice he looked back, pout on his features.

"I never meant for anyone else to see in the first place! You don't get to complain!" He huffed, glancing at where you were chuckling across from him at his indignant outcry.

"Okay okay, I promise I won't go back inside. But that what you played last today, that was really good. Is that one of yours, too?"

He bit on his bottom lip and nodded, fingers rubbing over the fabric of his pants stretching over his knees.

“What’s your major? Music?”

“Something in that direction, yeah.” Then, after a pause in which he seemed to realize it would be the polite thing to do, he asked: “You?”

The rain continued to run down the glass as you spoke, telling the other about your plans with studying, and the hopes you had. He listened intently and only rose his voice after it was obvious you had ended, and it created a nice back and forth. Thunder clapped outside, growling and forcing him to speak up a little more.

You sighed.

"Guess I better head back if I still wanna make it home today." You swept the last of the sheets together and put them into their binder, shoving the concoction unceremoniously back into your bag.

You brushed a bit of dust off your pants and quietly pulled a face as you peeled a long hair with cobwebs off your pants.

When you met Yoongi's eyes he looked off to the side, softly shrugging. "Told you…"

"Are you heading back, too?" Now it was him looking up at you, hands linked over his knees.

"Yeah?"

You held out your hand, and after mustering it for a moment, he took it.

Either he had a lot of self-control over his body or he wasn't weighting much; either way you pulled him up and then he was towering over you once more.

"You have a car?" You asked him on the way down, looking up from the keys in his hand.

"Hm? Oh. Oh yeah. Just- It’s a hand me-down from my brother."

He cleared his throat.

"Aren't you afraid someone's gonna steal your stuff?"

He turned his head towards you, his eyebrows creasing the skin between them.

"Because you don't lock the room?" You elaborated. Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, focusing on the steps down.

"Not really. As far as I know it's only us knowing of these rooms even being here, and most of them are locked, so…"

"But you keep copies of your songs, right? Photos or some app to write it down with?" He looked at you like you had just proposed to assassinate the Dean.

"No?" He held the door open for you and then you were out in the main part of campus again.

Part of you had wondered if Yoongi would just straight up disappear as soon as you crossed the threshold, but it appeared he was very much real as he fell into step alongside you.

"Then what if someone does get in? And steals them? Or you forget to close the window and rain gets in and ruins the sheets?"

He shrugged, and the way he seemed to care so little frustrated you.

"But it's such great music!"

He shrugged again but looked on his shoes while doing so.

For a moment you were quiet, staring straight ahead while the thoughts were racing behind your forehead.

"-"

"No."

"I haven't said anything!"

He glared at you from the corner of his eyes. "But you were going to. Whatever it is, no. If anything happens to my music, that's my business, okay? Don't worry about it."

His resolute tone halted every attempt at clapping back in its core, and the few minutes it took until you were out in the entrance hall that was swimming with how many students came in and went you spent in silence.

Yoongi half turned towards you when you were already beaming up at him. "I'll hear you around?"

"-Fuck me." He covered his face with a hand and you laughed at his exasperated groan at your joke.

"Bye Yoongi!"

"Honestly, get lost..."

You were on your way to the table again, binder under your arm. Rounding the corner and you would have almost slipped on the moss growing over the path; you stared back and silently cursed while being glad you didn't actually fall.

The surface of the desk was wet when you reached it.

"It's been like, an entire day, why are you not dry." You said lowly, feeling the top down. Definitely too wet for anything paper related.

"You're late."

You looked up at the drawl, only needing a moment until your eyes fixed on the mop of hair peeking out of the window.

"Oh, yeah?" You looked down on the table, not really knowing what else to say. "Well... your ass is late, too."

"The fuck."

The confusion on Yoongi's face was a delight to see. A moment longer you stayed rooted to the spot next to the table, then his voice came again.

"You wanna come up here now or what. That desk won't dry up until tomorrow. If you're lucky."

Squinting up you shielded your eyes against the glare of the bright clouds overhead.

"You won't mind?"

Yoongi seemed to momentarily contemplate it, looking straight ahead. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, you can either get your ass wet sitting outside, or get it dirty sitting in the hallway, but if you enjoy my music really that much it'll be a total experience sitting in the same room while i play. Your choice."

He vanished from the open window and closed it, only leaving a crack open.

Your fingers tapped on the binder.

Five minutes later you knocked on the blank door, waiting patiently in your spot until steps sounded out and Yoongi opened.

He was sporting the same dark hoodie today, fidgeting with the sleeves of it.

"May I come in?" You inquired, and he wordlessly stepped aside.

Together with Yoongi's help you pulled one of the overturned tables right way up, found a suitable chair and then wiped the surfaces off. There was a small sink in the adjacent storage room, with running water and all, and eventually your new desk was in a condition you deemed okay.

You sat down on your chair and Yoongi, who'd been brooding over his sheet music since you'd shooed him off to clean everything by your standards, looked back down on the floor. He perched on the run down piano stool, elbows on his knees, and peered on the papers strewn across the ground.

Occasionally he'd bend down to pick one up but you had too much to do to really watch him for longer.

At one point he turned and you allowed yourself a moment of rest. He pushed the hoodie up his arms, almost to his elbows, before his fingers placed themselves on the keys and he started to play.

He had been right. It was something entirely else to sit in the same room with him while he played.

Like this the music drowned out any other sound that may have sailed in from outside; whether it be the call of bird or bell.

It was nice.

Your thoughts calmed down until they ran smooth, circling around topics once or twice before moving on.

The world existed only in this room, the music filled your ears and the shabby lighting overhead concealed the darkening sky outside.

At one point Yoongi stood in front of your table, fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie once more. His knuckles pushed at his skin. The edge of one sleeve was beginning to fray.

Mildly irritated, you looked up and met his eyes.

"What?"

"Uh isn't this the time you usually leave?"

You held contact a moment longer before looking down on your watch and tsking disapprovingly. Yoongi's shoulders twitched up.

"Shit, it is."

Ripped out of the peaceful mood you began to collect pages and close books, mentally going through the timetable and if you’d still make the train. "Are you heading out, too?"

He nodded and, growing braver again, stacked a few materials while you shoved everything in your bag. "Thanks." You hurried.

It'd be a bit tight, time-wise, but Yoongi's long legs effortlessly kept pace with your quick steps.

"How'd you know this was my time to leave, anyways?" You narrowed your eyes at him, not hiding the smile on your lips. "Have you been stalking me?"

Yoongi opened and closed his mouth without saying anything once or twice before he looked ahead and said "It was the time you left, last time." His shoulders were still drawn up as he peeked at you from the side. "I'd never-"

"I was kidding." You took half a step to the side and bumped your elbow into the general area of his arm. His hand reflexively came up and clutched the spot.

“I'm a creature of habit. If I miss this train I'll have to wait forever until the next one comes and that's always a huge pain."

He nodded, and shortly after, bid you farewell before you parted behind the front doors.

It had rained the entire weekend long and you didn't bother to go outside to the table, instead turning left before the library even came into view and headed straight for Yoongi's hideaway.

He didn't open when you knocked and you found the room empty after peeking inside.

He came in half an hour after you, in a dark blue hoodie this time, and looked a bit startled at seeing you there.

"Hi!" You smiled at him, over the backrest of the chair. "I hope you don't mind, it rained again and I-"

He shrugged and shuffled past you, heavily slumping down in front of the piano.

He didn't say anything and his melodies today were slow and deep.

Before you could turn to leave after the clock had well advanced, his back straightened and, anticipating him speaking up, you paused; jacket already on and bag in hand.

"Thanks for not asking me what's wrong."

He was talking to the piano, but you still smiled a bit.

"Of course."

"I don't know, if, I said it already but, you're very- welcome to come here if, you know, the weather…"

You looked down on your shoes. Only after it didn't seem like he was going to finish his sentence did you raise your voice.

"I don't think you did, but I really appreciate it. Thank you. Will you stay a little longer today?"

His gaze fled your face for his piano again after you raised your head.

"Yeah."

"Take it easy, Yoongi."

"Whatever."

You smiled at him even though you didn't know if he'd see, and then headed out.

You'd gotten ahead of homework and so could ease a little during your work sessions in Yoongi's piano room now, and during one of those easier days decided to finally ask the question that had been bouncing around your head for a while now.

"How'd you get the piano tuned? And isn't it really old?"

He didn't look up from his sheet, brows still furrowed at something he'd probably written down a few days ago and now wasn't satisfied with anymore.

"I watched a few Youtube tutorials."

You put your chin in one of your hands and grinned, but Yoongi broke eye-contact quickly after glancing your way.

"You did it yourself?"

"Yeah? Wasn't. Wasn't that hard."

Your grin widened and his glare intensified at its presence. "Min Yoongi. Musical Genius."

"Shut up."

His ears coloured red and gave him away, and you'd have loved to go over and give him a quick hug.

You didn't know how many other people got to appreciate him, but if his hideout here was anything to go by it weren't many. Probably.

He was adorable.

Even when the sun was shining outside and it had been dry for several days you wouldn't go to the little desk, favouring the clear sound of Yoongi playing and his occasional comment, mumbled to himself. It was far too cold now, anyways. Winter was fast advancing as November went on.

He had a way to be in the same space with you while not demanding any of your attention - which made it incredibly pleasant to have him around.

If you weren’t spending time together in amicable silence he was surprisingly easy to talk to. Most of his answers were short, or mumbled sounds, and yet you never got the impression he was fed-up or annoyed. He asked things too, occasionally; and though objectively you hadn’t known him that long, it still felt weird to remember there had been a time without him in your life.

Once, after you'd struggled with a particularly boring part of a required text that your brain just wouldn't process at all, he'd quietly asked if you could come over and take a look at something he'd been working on.

You stared at him, the skin between your eyebrows creased.

"Yoongi I don't know anything about music. Do you really-"

"Please?"

"...Fine."

You were standing next to him already, preparing to sit, when he parted his lips and looked up at you.

"Could you… sit with your back to the keys? It's just, I…"

It wasn't his fault, you were frustrated by the text; but you couldn't help the forced exhale of air that left your nose.

Yoongi's shoulders twitched. You hesitated, wanted to say something, didn’t find the words and then made an effort to move as calmly and quietly as possible to not upset him further.

"Sorry. Long day.” You said in a low voice, feeling strangely raw. “Play, if you… if you want?"

You could see him looking at you, through the corners of your eyes, and part of the tension left his form again at your words, underlying tone asking for forgiveness.

"S'alright." He breathed, just before clearing his throat and placing his hands on the keys.

As he played, the tight knit ball of jumbled thoughts behind your forehead stopped growing.

The longer you listened, the more tension left your brain; the cramped thoughts and need-to-do’s losing their alarming vibrant colours.

You felt yourself calm down.

He broke off playing and coughed nervously.

"So that- was version one. This is version two."

And he began to play again, the same piece, though slightly different, and this time you reminded yourself to pay more attention and really listen.

After he'd finished, the frustration over your text had thinned out and you were fully focused on the task at hand.

"So?" He asked, nervously rubbing his hands together.

"Can you play the first one again? Just for comparison?"

He nodded and went back to it.

"I think I like the first one better.” You decided. “The second one… implies something darker lurking beneath, and, I guess if that's what you intended it's executed well but the rest sounds lighter and so-"

He huffed out a laugh and dropped his head, hands sandwiched between his thighs.

"Hm? Not good? What I said?"

"No, no," He hurried to reassure, eyes gleaming under his fringe. "No, it's… I was hoping you'd say that, I guess. Gives me a reason to scratch this part. Didn't even like it much, I just felt- Yeah. Thanks."

At the almost-grin spreading on his lips you had to smile as well.

Had your shoulders touched during the entire time you'd sat here?

He broke the eye-contact first, looking back towards the keys once before meeting your gaze again.

"Rough day hm?"

"Yeah." You looked ahead, not really seeing the wall there. "Yeah, you could say that…"

Another sigh and then you were feeling the exhaustion more and more.

It was a spur of the moment thing, really, and you asked before you could hold yourself back.

"Are you okay with touches?"

"Ha? What do you-"

"Can I put my head on your shoulder?"

"Oh. Uh-"

"It's- It's fine if you don't want that," You hurried to backpedal, already mentally chiding yourself. "I'll be o-"

"No, it's, uh, you, ah, you can! Put your head on… yeah. I don't mind."

His voice got quieter and quieter until he was mumbling the last sentence.

His shoulder, although cushioned by his hoodie, was bonier than you'd thought. But it was nice, to rest for a moment, and you closed your eyes, exhaling slowly.

Yoongi's breathing had his shoulders rising and falling, and unconsciously, you adapted your rhythm to his, until you were breathing in synch.

"Thank you." You mumbled, adjusting your head and feeling your forehead brush his hood.

"Don't worry about it." This up close his voice was even deeper, and the low tone soothed the rawness your ears had suffered under for the past days in crowded lecture halls and hallways.

Ever so softly his cheek came to rest against the top of your head as he gave into the shy touch.

"Do you sing, Yoongi?"

You still had your eyes closed, listening to Yoongi's breathing and the sound his clothes made when they rubbed against themselves, against his skin.

"Sometimes." He answered after a pause. "More rap than… singing lullabies."

"I bet you sound good doing either."

He snorted, which pretty clearly gave away how little he thought of your compliment.

A moment long neither of you spoke.

Then he let out a heavy sigh.

"Why exactly do you think that?"

Your left arm was slightly pushed forward as he moved his left arm, from where the backs of your forearms were pressed against each other.

"You have a very nice voice, deep, and steady, and- It has that ring to it, you know, the same undertone. Some people speak and you can't really make out the tone or… colour… of their speech, but your voice doesn't jump around. You could probably read a phone book and make it sound nice."

"Okay that just ruined everything you said before."

"Oh fuck off! You asked!" There was a laugh in your voice as you lifted your head to look at him exasperatedly. He blinked, looking a bit sleepy, as if he had rested his eyes a little, too.

At your expression he hollowed out his cheeks.

"Jeez, don't behead me. I'll take it, okay? Happy now?"

"Yes. Thank you."

You pursed your lips and waited, until Yoongi would break eye-contact, but he didn’t surrender as quickly. He blinked and kept looking, and everything in you wanted to put your head back down, back on his shoulder, and stay like that a little longer, talk a bit more.

But this small break had gone for a bit too long already and you knew you should get back to work. That text sadly wouldn't read itself.

An unfamiliar touch on your arm held you back.

"Can you stay a bit longer?"

Half standing above him already he had to tilt his head so he could look at you.

"I really should-" You began, and then sighed, admitting that you really didn't want to move to yourself, and sat back down. "...Screw that text."

Yoongi's shoulder bumped yours, almost like an invitation, and you gave in without much thought.

You felt the bones shift as Yoongi lifted his hands and began to press single keys, filling the silence of the room with tunes.

"That text got you all worked up, hm." He spoke again after a while.

You frowned at nothing.

"It's just so dull. The professor said it serves as an example of what not to write, so it's basically just- we're just supposed to read it and mark all the mistakes, to avoid doing the same mistakes, but honestly… I know how and what I have to write, I shouldn't- Ugh. See? It's annoying me again already."

You huffed, leaning a bit more on Yoongi.

His cheek found your hair again and he chuckled.

"What's that idiot done wrong in his writing then?"

You weren't so sure afterwards, if he really had wanted to know or if this was just Yoongi's way of getting you to review the material differently, but you supposed it had worked out.

It was a lot easier to read and complain aloud while he sat next to you and listened to you rant, even though the finer nuances were surely lost on him since he wasn't studying the same thing.

On your way back to your flat you held your left arm with your right until you saw yourself in a reflection and noticed it.

Sitting next to Yoongi like that had only further proved how comforting his presence was, and now, without anything like that to be repeated in the foreseeable future, the missing touch felt a lot worse than where you had been before.

Technically you'd see him again tomorrow, or the very least Thursday.

But who was to say he'd ask you to sit with him again?

You ran into him during lunch the next week after not making it back to his room before that.

He was looking off to the side, in the direction of the lousy holiday decorations that had popped up in the major community spaces - You needed a moment to recognize him as the same guy who was playing piano while you studied. His bare arms, sticking out of a black shirt that hung from his shoulders, were almost shocking. That, and the surroundings clashing so harshly with what you were used to see him surrounded by.

“Hey, Yoongi!” You called out after the realization had sunk in, and turned with the tray in your hand.

His shoulders jerked up, but as his searching gaze connected with yours he relaxed.

“Hi.” He rubbed over his neck. “What are you…” His eyes fell on the food you were balancing in your hands. “Right. Lunch.”

“Are you headed somewhere?” You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. Yoongi shook his head slowly, hands clenching around his hoodie he carried in them.

“Wanna sit with my friends and me? They’re just over there, next to the pillar.”

“Uh-”

“They’re all really friendly and don’t bite, I promise.”

“...Fine.” He sighed and trudged after you as you turned.

Whenever he agreed to do something you had proposed to him he made it out to seem like it was a decision that had taken him weeks to arrive to, or if it was something incredibly heavyweight he couldn’t just agree to, but whenever you offered him to go back on saying yes, or reminding him he could opt out any moment, he was always vehement to defend his point. It almost looked like he did things purely out of spite even when you’d meant well to second-guess his willingness to cooperate.

It was the same today, as he followed you through the rows, and then pulled out a chair next to yours as you put the tray down.

“Friends, this is Yoongi. He plays piano.”

“My most defining feature, apparently.” He grumbled in response and sat down, not after shimmying into his hoodie.

“Oh hey Yoongles!” Jin perked up, the burrito in his hands falling apart. “You two know each other?!”

“That does surprise me, I agree.” Hoseok added, stealing bits of the filling of Jin’s food that fell to the plate below. The quirky guy had one day invited himself into your circle of friends and nobody had had a heart to kick him out, but apparently he did know other people on campus save your group.

“You know him?” You retorted, pulling out your water bottle before starting on the food.

“Some people socialize, my dear friend.” Jin said, swatting at Hoseok’s hand.

“Yeah I know, I wasn’t aware Yoongi did that.”

“Ouch?” The black haired guy next to you said and got a round of laughs back.

“Sorry.” You apologized. He stole the small package of chips from your tray and opened it.

“I mean, it’s kind of true, I suppose.” He relented.

“Did you write down what the Prof wrote on the blackboard last Monday?” Jin had given up on his burrito and was furiously wiping at his hands while a happy Hoseok gleefully dug into the scattered remains. Jimin next to him made grabby hands and the plate got pushed over so he’d reach it too. Jin pursed his lips.

“Yeah. You need them or what?” Yoongi dropped a chip in his mouth and chewed slowly.

Jin turned his head and a more up-beat expression settled on his features. “Pretty please!”

Yoongi groaned.

Around half an hour later the cafeteria filled up as more and more students took their break, and soon enough your group rose to make room for the people who actually needed the space to sit down.

“You going to practice today?” You asked Yoongi as your group made its way towards the exit. He nodded absentmindedly.

“Oh, can I come?” Hobi suddenly appeared by Yoongi’s other side, apparently having overheard the conversation.

Yoongi glared.

“And have you leave prints on all my shit? No thank you.”

“Excuse you these sneakers are brand new! Not a single speck of du- Hey!”

To your utter delight Yoongi had stepped on the brilliant white of Hobi’s new shoe and left a dusty brown mark.

The sputtering outcry got the attention of Namjoon and Jin who’d been walking ahead, and after placating words and a glare from Yoongi you all parted ways, Hobi notably not tagging along with you.

“That was mean.” You told him, still laughing over Hoseok’s exasperation.

Yoongi shrugged, hands in his pockets, but you saw the smile on his lips just before he angled his face in a way that didn’t allow you to observe his features any longer.

The days until the short christmas break were counting down.

One weekend you spent baking with Jimin and Rose, and were left with so many cookies you put a good amount in a box, wrapped it in newspaper and brought it with you to give to Yoongi as an early present.

You could pinpoint the exact moment he saw the gift sitting on his chair after he had come in, because he stopped dead in his tracks.

“What?” He asked, and you looked up from the transcribing exercise.

“What what?”

“That.” He pointed, as if a motion detection sensor would go off if he took only a step closer.

You clasped your hands under your chin and looked from the chair to Yoongi.

“Didn’t you see the elf that came in and dropped this off?”

His eyebrows drew together and he glared at you.

“I have a feeling I’m looking at this ‘elf’ right now.” He crossed his arms. You shrugged.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll find someone else to give it to.” That cute first-semester from Jimin’s Survey of Linguistics and Languages class maybe, Jungkook.

“No.” Yoongi grumbled, and you mentally scratched having to rehome the box of cookies. Although, come to think of it, there were probably enough cookies left at home to pack another box. Maybe you’d ask Jimin if he could ask Jungkook if he’d like some.

He sat after picking the present up, hesitantly, and weighted it in his hands.

“What’s in it?” He turned to you.

You lifted an eyebrow. “Wait until the evening of the 24th and find out. Or abandon all social norms and just tear into it now, I wouldn’t judge.”

“Like fuck you would.” He huffed and then looked from the patched up paper to you. It seemed like he wanted to say something, and then decided against it, only placing the gift on top of the piano, in a spot where it wouldn’t be in the way.

You got up earlier than usual, wanting to get a bit of shopping done before leaving for your parent’s home for the holidays.

Yoongi’s head jerked up, and the pencil he’d twirled in his fingers clattered to the ground.

“Is it five already?” He asked, hands reaching for his phone.

“Nah,” You slung your scarf around your neck. “I’ll run some errands.”

“Oh okay.”

To your surprise, Yoongi started grabbing his things as well.

You paused.

“Yoongi, what…?”

His gift under his arm, the other froze.

“Huh? Didn’t you ask if I could drive you today?”

You blinked.

Dim, very dim was the memory, of having asked him, a week ago. You hadn’t decided to do the shopping today, back then.

“You- You don’t have to. Sorry, I forgot, my bad-” You bit in your lip. “You, uh, you stay, and… Compose a while longer. I’ll be fine.”

In the silence between you, you could hear the wind whistling around the corners of the building.

It was dark outside already.

Yoongi was still looking at you, and though you’d come to understand his expressions a bit, this one was undecipherable.

“So you… Don’t want me to drive you?”

He looked weird, the newspaper wrapped box under his arm, his jacket slung over the other. Ready to go, at your convenience.

It twisted your heart a little.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t remember you saying yes, and my shopping-”

“I could still drive you. It’s faster than the train?” His eyebrows twitched upwards in the middle, just a tiny bit.

“-Okay.” You agreed, and his posture relaxed at last.

His car smelled new, even though everything in it was carrying marks of the years it had been used.

You stayed silent, unsure how to proceed, and as the lights of downtown illuminated the inside of his car, you turned your head to look at him.

“Would you like to come do the shopping with me?”

The car rolled to a stop at the next red light, and in the low light, Yoongi’s eyes glinted as he looked over.

“If you want me to?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.”

"I bought an iPad."

"You what?" You looked up from your work, across the room and met his eyes over the piano. He was glaring.

"You heard me."

"I did. Why though?"

January was almost over by now, but it would take a while longer until the sun would win back her intensity, and not let the daylight fade this early in the afternoon. Though, clouds littered the sky today, which was probably the main cause why the lights overhead reflected in the glass already at this hour.

Yoongi looked down on the keys, his hands rubbing over his thighs.

"You won't stop nagging me about losing the sheets or forgetting the tunes, so I thought… I could record some of the songs. Scan the sheets. That kinda stuff."

You smiled, unashamed and wide, and Yoongi's glare intensified.

"You're gonna come have a look or what."

He sounded a little pressed and without any more words you left your desk and crossed the room.

He shuffled aside so you could fit yourself next to him.

The tablet wasn't the latest model - which would have really surprised you, otherwise - but there was something like a microphone plugged into the lightning port and clipped to the edge.

"Is that a mic?" You leaned forward, having had half the mind to sit on your hands to not accidentally touch anything and ignite Yoongi's wrath.

"Yes." He grumbled, still a bit more fidgety than usual. "Cost almost as much as the damn thing so I hope you're happy."

The grin stole into the wonder and awe that had captured your expression before.

"I am. Very. Recorded anything yet?"

You'd arrived a bit later today, courtesy to an extended lunch with Namjoon and Jin.

Yoongi's eyes glinted when he looked from the keys to you.

"And have you chewing my ear off for not letting you be there? Fuck no. Was gonna wait until you got here. -Shut! It."

You bit your lip to keep the cooing at bay, opting to gently nudge his shoulder with yours instead.

"I appreciate it. Wanna play now?"

The nervosity was back, the way he bounced his leg so uncharacteristically agitated  for him. He was more like a pond usually, calm and undisturbed.

"Keep quiet alright?"

You nodded.

He sighed and rubbed his hands one last time. Then he extended one, woke the screen and unlocked the tablet. The recording program was already open.

He clicked the red button and instantly a flat line appeared, only beginning to curve up and down as he shifted and began to play.

Keeping your breathing flat was probably unnecessary and yet you couldn't help it.

Yoongi's hands danced over the keys, pushing down and lifting in such rapid succession you could hardly keep up with. It was mesmerizing to observe, but not only that.

With his eyes closed and his head angled he gave himself to the music completely, feeling every note.

There was a small pulling in your chest, from the area around your heart, at his sight.

It must feel good to be able to zone out this much doing something you loved and were good at.

Only after he'd repeated the chorus did you notice what he was playing - the melody that had initially drawn you in and led you to the table outside.

Your heart in your chest grew with every beat, until it felt like it pressed against your ribcage from the inside.

Yoongi slowed down, the notes came a little wider apart, and then he let the last chord ring out. Fingertips still resting on the keys, you looked between them, waiting if he'd play another song.

When he slid them down on his pants it became clear he didn't intend to.

Silence enveloped you.

"That's my favourite song. That one. I only found you because of it."

Your eyes went back to his face and caught him already looking. His eyebrows drew together.

He tapped the little square and the program stopped recording.

"Now you ruined the first ever song I played for the record, idiot."

You scoffed.

"I only spoke up after it was all done, you can easily cut that out, genius."

He huffed and you rolled your eyes.

"Not everything has to be perfect first try. Thought someone like you would know that."

He just shook his head, still frowning.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'll keep quiet now." Thinking he was honestly upset, you apologized, hoping it'd sooth his temper.

But it didn't seem to be the right call as he buried his face in his hands, shoulders rolling forward.

"Just… Nevermind."

"Do you want me to get out of your hair?"

Your butt had already lifted from the chair when his reply came, mumbled through his hands.

"No."

You sat back down.

Dark eyes glinted at you through his fingers, then he combed through his hair and pushed it back from his face.

It was the first time you could really see his eyebrows well, and the expanse of his forehead.

You'd known he had one, of course, but seeing it was something else.

He woke the tablet again and started a new recording.

You smiled.

You didn’t get any work done that afternoon, but then again listening to a fraction of the repertoire that Yoongi had to offer was phenomenal compensation.

Still he looked a bit rueful, standing next to your desk while you packed your stuff, the iPad with its closed cover and Mic securely stored in the small bag over his shoulder.

“Sorry I… Kept you from your studying.”

You looked up while zipping your pencil case shut.

“It’s okay. Think I needed that, anyways. A break from all those words. It’s me who should thank you, really.”

He wrinkled his nose and kicked at a speck of dust, following you out the room once you were done.

“Still. Can I… Do you want a ride home? I know you missed the bus you usually take.”

“You’d do that?”

“It’s the least, really…”

A smile spread on your face. “Who am I to say no to such a gracious offer, why yes, thank you Yoongi.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” He grumbled, pushing ahead with a frown on his features.

"Play for me, Min, please." You sat next to him on the stool, hands underneath your thighs and gaze swimming from exhaustion.

Yoongi's shoulder softly bumped into yours as he repositioned himself.

"You okay."

"Yeah. Just. Please play."

"Alright." He looked at the keys, fingers caressing them but not pressing down hard enough to evoke the notes. "Anything in particular?"

"Can you play my favourite piece?"

His eyes stayed on yours and you grew almost uncomfortable by their scrutiny.

And then he blinked and turned back towards the keys, rolling his wrists once and setting his fingers down.

"As you wish."

As he played you watched his fingers move, trying to lean away whenever he came near you to avoid bumping into his arm. His skin looked healthier now, now that the temperatures were rising again and there were no angry, painful red cracks lining the back of his hands anymore.

It was like his body had its own gravitational field, drawing you in.

When he ended, your side was leaned against his, your heavy head teetering on the edge just before dropping to his shoulder.

The arm he wrapped around you would have come as a surprise, eliciting at least a twitch out of you, had you been a little more coherent.

As it was, your body sighed and curled into his, head tucked into his shoulder, while his hand pulled you closer by your side.

"Long day."

It wasn't a question, but you understood the offer he was making.

"Yeah." You sighed, the hoodie-clad shoulder pleasantly soft under your cheek. "Finals will kick my ass. Didn't want to do an all-nighter ever again but got peer-pressured into it anyways… Sucks."

Yoongi hummed, playing this and that note with the free hand.

"Didn't peg you for someone giving into that kind of thing."

You grumbled.

The impending doom of the next test hung low over your head, and still you couldn’t peel away from your spot next to Yoongi, wedged on the chair, with his arm around you. Didn’t want to. Felt like maybe if you’d made an attempt to get up, he might even have pulled you down again.

"Want me to drive you home?" He mumbled, an indefinite amount of time later.

"You're really nice today. Or is that just me being tired."

He chuckled, and you felt his cheek come to rest against your head.

"Don't tell anyone, okay."

"Okay."

You adjusted in your spot and snaked both of your arms around his torso.

He didn't flinch.

It was quiet for a moment.

"Hm?"

He hummed.

"What?" You lifted your head. He glanced at you from the corners of his eyes.

"Didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"If you want me to drive you home."

He jostled your shoulder.

You debated it for a moment.

"Alright. Yeah, okay.”

You put a hand to his shoulder that quickly morphed from a gentle pat into holding on for support as your quick standing up led to some instability in your legs.

He looked up at you.

"Okay then. Let's go." You repeated.

It was like the world was wrapped in cotton.

It was silent in the car. The radio didn't look broken, but Yoongi slapped your hand away as you wanted to poke it and see if you could turn it on.

"Nu-uh. No touchy." His eyes never strayed from the street.

"Next one left." You informed him, pouting.

"I know." He said.

Your hand was on the handle even before his shabby car rolled to a stop in front of your place.

It was unusually warm for the month, and you’d rolled the window on the passenger side down to breathe in the mellow spring breeze.

Now outside, you leaned your arms through it.

A grin spread on your face.

"Say, isn't it weird that you know where I live and I still haven't gotten your number?"

A rare, gummy smile appeared on his face, slowly.

"Please?" You jutted out your bottom lip.

"...Fine." He reached into the back, patting his jacket down.

He pulled his phone out of one of the pockets, handing it to you after unlocking it.

"'Musical Genius #1 Fan’?" He read out the contact name you’d given yourself. He glared at you.

You shrugged.

"If you don't like it, change it, genius."

He snorted and gripped the steering wheel tighter with his left hand.

The world was beginning to get very fuzzy beyond a two step radius around you, and you took that as a sign you should definitely head into your room now.

“Thank you for the ride.”

“Always.” He smiled again, his usual, small one.

You patted the hood of his car twice after leaning back.

Texting Yoongi was almost alarmingly normal.

Despite the fantastical circumstances of meeting him, you found he was very much engaged in normal life on campus, too. Occasionally.

He wasn’t much for the polite small talk to start a day, rather than just sending a text saying ‘There’s a lizard by the parking lot and ppl r clogging the way, will be late’ first thing.

You hadn’t believed him when he’d said he wasn’t much into memes, but send him a couple vine compilations anyways.

By now he was fully fluent in both them and most current memes floating around, further adding to you not really believing he hadn’t had a speck of an idea before.

The definite end of the semester came into view, but it meant every final was crammed into the space between then and now, which resulted in more studying and less listening to Yoongi playing. 

You were brushing teeth one evening when your phone’s screen lit up with an incoming video call from him.

Placing it on a slightly elevated spot inside the small cabinet above the sink, you accepted it.

“...Oh wow look at that, who is that raccoon?”

Your reply telling him to fuck off came warbled by the white foam spilling over your chin. He smiled, wide and easy.

“Wanted to ask what you were up to this evening but I guess I don’t have to anymore, huh.”

You cleared your mouth and dabbed a towel around it afterwards.

“Not really. I’m super tired, so I think I’ll just go to bed, honestly. Did you want to do something? In that case I’m sorry, but no.”

He rolled around, and only then did you see he was in bed, with the covers drawn up already and all.

“Uhh, no… Just wanted to check in. But now that you mention it… How about some music to help you relax?”

You took him from his spot on the shelf and flicked the light off before moving into your bedroom.

“I think I have enough music here, thanks…” Distracted by the device, you almost forgot to take your refilled water bottle. When you looked at the screen next, you could see Yoongi with his arms on his keyboard, phone propped up in a way that allowed you to look down the length of the keys. He was pouting.

“Not even a personalized little concert?”

You sat back on your bed and smiled at the screen.

“Okay. Just this once. And only because it’s you.”

“Yes!” He punched the air and grinned down at the camera. Lying on your side with the screen being the only thing illuminating the room, you watched and listened to him play, allowing yourself to breathe slowly and let go of the troubles that were plaguing you during the day.

You were almost gone, eyelids heavy and grasp on your phone slipping, when Yoongi picked his own device up.

“Sleep well.” He mumbled.

You hummed in response, eyes shut.

It was the last day of school before the semester ended. Technically it had ended already; The clock on the wall read something around two in the evening, and in any other case you’d be furious as to why you were still stuck here. As it was, you were sat next to Yoongi once more, in front of the piano, one last time before the break.

The window was wide open, letting in the chirps of birds and rustling of leaves.

"I'm not so good. With words." He looked up after a moment, the tips of this pointer and middle finger gently running up and down a crack between the keys.

The world outside was sunny and looked much warmer than it was, but in here, out of direct sunshine, it was still cool. Yoongi’s body next to yours was the only source of immediate warmth in the almost clammy air.

"I can speak better through the music. I think that's why… I think that's why you say my songs are expressive." His voice died down, but his eyes, glued to yours, won in intensity.

Even this close up you couldn’t tell where his iris ended and his pupil began. "Sometimes I wish I could be better with words. At least a little bit."

He looked down, where your hand lay on your thigh, with the fingers curled in and under the palm, to prevent from reaching out and touching the piano while he was playing it. Touching the piano or him.

With bated breath you watched him move, slip his hand from the keys, to then, lightly, as if you'd break at the slightest of pressure, cover yours.

Not taking your eyes off the palms, you turned your own around until you could slip your fingers between his.

You heard him swallow thickly when you squeezed your conjoined hands. Were acutely aware of how his thigh felt pressed against yours, him next to you.

Your eyes met again, but not for long. He looked away again, oddly reminding you of the first times you’d seen each other; him unable to look at your for longer than a second.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip before his teeth got a hold of it and he stared down on the piano. When you readjusted in your spot his fingers flexed and squeezed your palm, as if to prevent you from letting go. You saw his jaw ticking as he continued to avoid your eyes, the way his eyebrows furrowed, a tell-tale sign for the inner turmoil.

“Sometimes you don’t have to say much, you know. Sometimes… Sometimes I think I understand you just like that.”

“Oh yeah?” It would’ve sounded condescending if you hadn’t been able to filter out the self-deprecating downtilt of his words by now.

He glanced up at you before shuffling in his spot, twisting as best as he managed to be able to look at you without getting up. His knee dug into the dent in your leg just above your own, but you ignored the slight discomfort.

He lifted your joined hands briefly, letting them fall on his own thigh before his whole body calmed down and his eyes finally steadied on yours.

“Tell me, then. What am I trying to say?”

You let your eyes rise from his, into the mussed hair, to the one strand that was still sticking up from where he’d exasperated ran his hand against the growth earlier.

His eyebrows were still furrowed minimally, and only under your watchful gaze did he stop chewing on the inside of his cheek.

For several minutes you looked him over, observed the uneven rise and fall of his chest, in that old black shirt - it span over his chest now, its fit almost snug when it had been loose before. He’d really filled it out.

Eventually you sandwiched his hand between the both of yours, looking down on his fingers between yours.

“I have no idea.”

It was the truth. No matter how hard you looked, no matter how many clues you believed to see, it was impossible to tell just where his mind had taken him this time.

He swallowed and looked down, nodding once.

“Right. A-”

“If-” You interrupted him, looking up through your lashes. His shoulders were still rising along with his breathing, but now you had his undivided attention. “-you’re going to say something mean now, against you or me, don’t. Please.”

He bit on his lip and ducked his head to the side, obviously displeased.

“See?” He leaned back, balling his free hand into a fist. “You can do it after all! Somehow you got into my head. Don’t do that.”

“So?” You ignored the interruption, tone having shifted in the slightest. “Tell me. What...?

Two heavy breaths in which he kept squinting at you, attempted to speak up and then averted his gaze again.

When his eyes came back down from the ceiling his hold on your hand tightened.

“A hug.”

You were sure, if you hadn’t been holding his hand, he would’ve backed off as soon as the words had left his lips. But he couldn’t and so he stayed in the same spot, leaned back as far as he could, blinking and looking at you like you would start smacking him any moment.

“Please.” He added, and it had been almost too quiet to hear.

With only a nod as an answer, he relaxed a little, but the tension wouldn’t leave his shoulders.

“Here?” You asked, and he nodded, eyes flitting around. His left leg started jiggling, but before the nervosity could take more hold on him you disentangled your hands and opened your arms. He hesitated a moment longer but you didn’t rush him, waited, let him take his time. Let him come to you.

And he did.

With slow, careful hands that touched the lower part of your ribs cautiously before they slid around to your back, one upwards between your shoulder blades, the other down to the small of your back.

It was like someone that had been starved of water being allowed near a clean river - someone that had been deprived for so long that the madness of thirst had subsided into tired resignation already. When faced with the thing he’d been hungering for most, he didn’t run in blindly and submerged himself at once.

It was more like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to, was able to touch you sat next to him, that you let him close his arms around you.

His chin bumped into your collarbone as you lifted your own arms a little to lay them over his shoulders and hug him back, and he whispered a small “Sorry” before his head nestled into place next to yours.

He had to bend down and you stretched up a bit, and for the first moment you felt how uncomfortable he seemed with everything.

With a single, long sigh, he relaxed.

Gave into the hug, completely, and without holding back anymore.

Every breath he took you felt, were made aware how he drew his breath in several steps, as if he didn’t possess the strength to do it at once.

There was no more room between you but you felt his hold tighten, drawing you in closer.

This wasn’t a quick hello-or-goodbye hug, and it wasn’t a bear-hug, either. It was something entirely new and yet you felt incredibly safe.

There was no clock anywhere in sight and you closed your eyes.

Minutes passed. Eventually the desperateness fled his system, and then you were just holding the other.

At half past four, the bell rang again.

The sound drifted over the campus and reached you just as you entered the deserted lot, where only Yoongi’s shabby car still stood, under the trees, half hidden by bushes.

His thumb slid over the back of your hand as he lightly tugged on your connection.

“Can I come visit your place?” You asked, once you’d sat down. He’d been to your tiny flat a few times now, but had never asked if you would like to see his.

“Are you sure?” He turned the key and glanced at you before backing out of the spot.

“Of course! I want to see the musical genius’ living space. Pretty please.”

“Don’t remind me of that dumb nickname…” He groaned, and you laughed, turning the radio up and the window down.

Warm air came rushing in, and together with the upbeat song currently playing, it felt a lot like a scene from a movie.

For the first time in weeks you felt fully free. Able to smile at the wind touching your face, knowing Yoongi was there with you.

You sat on his couch together, scrolling your phones aimlessly after thoroughly inspecting his space.

The pizza he ordered in the evening was fluffy and sated your hunger, and afterwards you were too tired to move much.

“I think… I’ll just stay here.” You gesticulated around the room, stretching and placing your legs across his lap.

He wiped his hands clean of the last grease and tugged on your shins.

“Here? You sure? I can always-”

He pressed a hand against his mouth and burped. Afterwards he groaned and fell back against the backrest.

“No, you’ll have to stay. There’s no way I’m leaving this flat again today.”

You grinned and made grabby hands for the pack of cherry gummies.

Your head was buzzing with how late it was, and how tired you’d become.

With teeth brushed, the sweet taste of cherries was long gone, but in the dark of the room, it wasn’t unwelcome.

Yoongi was lying just a little away from you, head half buried in one of his many pillows.

“Is this weird?” He asked. You heard his palm slipping over the mattress, before his fingertips touched your arm and he momentarily pulled back.

Until you put your hand out, and he curled his pinky around yours.

“Hm?”

You asked.

“I mean this… We… We’re not…” He trailed off, his other hand covering yours as he rolled over. In the darkness you could only make out his eyes by the reflection of what little light there still was, in them. “Other people our age have been partying since noon, and we…”

“Is that bad?” You asked, turning on your side to fully face him.

“No, don’t think so.”

“Do you want it, any other way?”

He shook his head.

“I just wonder… Jin asked me if we were dating the other day. I didn’t know what to say. It doesn’t feel like we are, but I also… don’t feel like we’re not doing that. It. Something. I mean we’re not doing that, either, which I never thought about, and-”

He huffed. “It feels weird, to lie here, with you, and not do anything. But I’m glad. About it. In a way.”

You smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Then that’s enough for us. Isn’t it?”

He hummed, and slowly leaned his forehead against your joined hands.

Your phone binged with an incoming message from Yoongi.

It was two weeks into the break, and after staying over at his place, you hadn’t heard or seen too much of him.

His message read 'I uploaded it.', and a link to Spotify.

You clicked on it.

A playlist opened, and you bit on your lip at the name - He'd titled it 'Your Playlist'.

While you cleaned out your notes and organized your room, you listened.

It was a mix of his self-composed piano pieces, acoustic, or electric, with mixed other instruments and occasionally his voice.

The melodies came easy and wound their way in your ears, and it brought a smile to your face at the warmth you felt at their sound.

The last one was titled “My Favourite”.

You watched as the song’s covers changed, and sat back on your rug.

What unfolded in front of your ears was different than the rest - it was a blend of sounds, playing to support your favourite song of his, but a remix version. The beat slowly wound up higher, coming faster, until it dropped - to your voice, filtered and a little tuned, to fit the short space.

‘My favourite’, you heard yourself say, and then the whisper of Yoongi’s voice answered, ‘Just for you’, and you bit down on your lip.

He sung and rapped more, and you needed at least five listens before you’d caught it all.

‘Can I come over?’ You texted him, burning with energy and the deeply rooted wish to see him.

‘ofc’ came his answer, and you were out of the door.

Not much later, halfway across town, you hugged your arms around him as tight as you could, smiling so wide it had your cheeks hurting, and yet not able to keep the tears escaping your eyes.

“I love you, too.” You mumbled into his shoulder, feeling him tense a little.

“I’m so glad you understood.” He whispered, and leaned his head against yours. “I’m so glad you understand. Me. I’m so glad you. Found me.”

notes: for alex, who i send an ask wondering if she might know how to title a story i was writing and if she'd ever heard of this weirdly specific song i could not name? and then told me i should check out this song (the title of this fic) - which ended up being the very one i'd been searching for for four days. thank you.