#their moments gobbled up by a guy unable to let go of the past

[jooniyah]

Lover Bouquet : One

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Idol!au

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut (R)

Warnings: Two instances of NON CON, polyamory, established relationship, yandere behavior, pregnancy discussion, emotional abuse, violence, kidnapping, scandal, blood, degradation kink, mobbing, manipulation, profanity, group sex, oral, smut, cum play, groping

Word count: 19.58k

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is an idol au setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This fic is set in an au where the boys are part of a 7-member boy band called the Biker Boys Squad (BBS) and everything that follows is completely fictional with no intended resemblance to actual places, bands or agencies.

Cover credit: @maleficosmos-2 ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ, ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸᵎ

─── ·❆· ───

The smooth roll of wheels outside had visibly no impact on the inside of the limousine. The shiny interior, complete with Italian leather and crystal wine glasses screamed luxury. The windows were completely tinted, reflecting the bright lights of every radiant storefront the car zoomed past.

The car smelt like heaven, a bouquet of smells fanning your nostrils and intoxicating you. Cologne, aftershave, hairspray, all the most delicious masculine smells danced around your senses, tugging at your inner coil that was slowly rearing its head up.

Namjoon was going through a little chit in his hand, mostly out of habit than necessity. He didn’t really depend on those notes, but it gave him a sense of security to know he had all the points in hand before stepping up to the mic.

“Hyung, add a line in English at the end for our International fans,” Taehyung said, peering over at the chit in Namjoon’s hand. The little note had words written in neat Korean letters, which the younger man glanced at.

“Yeah, will do, Tae,” the elder man responded, his hand reaching down to pat the head nestled in his crotch.

“Keep going, baby girl,” he said, gently ruffling your hair as he resumed scanning the chit. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting on either side of him, Jimin casually sipping the Cheval Blanc from his crystal glass, his pillowy pink lips made even glossier by the fine red wine.

You bobbed your head up and down Namjoon’s length, savoring his unique scent with your cheeks hollowed out around him, sucking deep and hard.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he hissed, too far gone to focus on his acceptance speech anymore.

Jimin smiled warmly, his hand snaking down to Namjoon’s lap. His fingers gripped your hair, and he tugged it gently, seeking control over your head. You obliged happily, letting him maneuver your head as he liked.

He slowly pushed you further and further down Namjoon’s shaft, his eyes trained on Namjoon’s face, watching his face twist in hunger. Jimin’s palm was flat against your skull, pushing you to gobble Namjoon’s cock without sparing an inch.

Yoongi was playing a game on his phone, and he looked up just in time to see you struggling against Jimin’s hand.

“Let her breathe, Jiminah,” he lazily scolded, his gummy smile out in full brilliance.

“N- no,” Namjoon panted, looking at Yoongi with pleading eyes. “So close- I’m so close.”

And with that, he groaned out loud, his hips bucking up subconsciously. He ground his body down to the leather seat, his legs trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm.

The hand pressing against your head stayed put, not budging until Namjoon’s legs stopped shivering. Namjoon leaned back and removed his glasses, wiping his hot forehead with a groan. The hand left your hair, moving down to caress your neck.

“Feeling good, hyung?” Jimin’s voice came to your ears like a song.

“You wouldn’t believe how good, Jiminie,” the elder man replied, his breaths coming out in strained intervals.

“Tch, baby…” Jimin said, handing you a Kleenex to wipe your mouth. “You left a drop on Hyung’s trousers.”

Namjoon snapped his head down, his eyes rolling when he saw the single blob of cum on his crotch.

“Damn, those paparazzi will roast us alive,” he murmured, reaching down to wipe it clean.

“No, Joonie,” you whined, hastening to dip your head back down on his crotch. Namjoon’s hand remained suspended in the air with his fingers grasping a tissue, his thigh muscles tensing up when you timidly licked a stripe on his expensive trousers, gathering the blob and sucking it up.

“Oh Y/N, you are so fucking naughty,” Jimin giggled, pulling you up so you could rest your knees.

“Come here, baby,” Yoongi said, his voice thick and raspy. He had waited patiently until Namjoon finished, and now he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Hoseok was sitting next to Yoongi, and the seats were somewhat cramped because four of them were sitting across from Namjoon. The limousine had been altered to their taste, but the seats were a bit smaller than needed.

“Here,” Jin extended his hand, pulling you so you could sit on his lap.

You took advantage of the brief moment to lock your lips against Jin’s neck.

“Hey, no hickeys,” he said, gently swatting at your shoulder. “It’s awards night. No hickeys.”

You puckered your lips up in disappointment. You were only pretending to bite him, just to see his eyes flash. Stern Jin was so fucking sexy.

Yoongi was in the far corner of the seat, and Jin being the smart guy he was, always found a solution.

“Lie down on our thighs,” he said, helping you sprawl yourself across the three sets of thighs, the tips of your toes resting on the owner of the fourth set.

Yoongi’s fingers worked quickly on his zipper, and Jimin’s clear voice teased, “Hyung, you’ll be wrinkling your Saint Laurent suit if you wiggle around too much.”

“Y/N is worth ruining a thousand Saint Laurent suits, Jiminah,” Yoongi quipped as he fished his dick out.

Jin’s long sensitive fingers drew soft circles on your calves, admiring your splendid legs. He brushed his fingers against the curve of your ass, finally settling down to squeeze and knead the firm flesh in his big palms.

The man next to Jin sighed heavily, looking out of the window and squinting through the tinted glass. He had a hard time trying to control himself, but the little toes that kept grazing his thighs distracted him. He bent his head, fighting himself to avoid looking at the sight around him. Of all the men in the limo, Jungkook was the only one who wasn’t staring at your body with simmering lust.

Yoongi was groaning, his hand fisting in your hair as he guided you to take him even deeper. He rested his head against Hoseok’s shoulder, closing his eyes and losing himself in bliss.

Hoseok gazed at Yoongi’s scrunched-up face with warm affection. He always felt supremely happy when Yoongi was having a good time. Your torso was laid on his lap, and he patted your back, encouraging you with soft whispers of praise.

“Yes, baby, that’s it keep going. You’re doing so good.”

Yoongi’s vein bulged alongside his cock, throbbing hard. He was straining so much, curling his toes inside his shoes.

“Gosh, I wanna get inside you,” he moaned, his voice coming out needy and whiny. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, whistling at his wristwatch.

“We’re gonna be on the red carpet in ten minutes, hyung,” he said, clucking his tongue. Yoongi opened his eyes, sending Jin his best pleading look right from his position on Hoseok’s shoulder.

Jin pursed up his pretty lips, looking down at your butt. It was not an easy feat to have full-on sex in the limo. As usual, he was the one who had to improvise a plan.

“Ten minutes is enough for a quickie,” Yoongi whined, his meat still lodged in your hot mouth.

“Okay okay, quit whining. Y/N baby, go sit on Namjoon’s lap,” Jin said, patting your ass. Namjoon looked up, removing his glasses and tucking them inside his breast pocket. He wished he had thought about asking Jin earlier.

You grinned and crawled over to Namjoon, cozying up with your back against his chest, his strong muscular arms spreading your legs wide open.

“All yours, hyung,” Namjoon said, nodding at Yoongi.

It was such a pretty sight to see your red lace undies completely soaked. Hoseok couldn’t hold on anymore, and his hand slipped down to palm himself through his pants.

Yoongi licked his lips, unbuckling his belt for better access. Your legs were already open for him, and Jimin had started caressing your clit with gentle touches. He crouched into a half-kneeling position, grazing his tip against your core.

“Please, just fuck me already,” you cooed, unable to bear Jimin’s teasing anymore. You had to have a cock inside you, it was urgent. Jimin was such a tease, and he enjoyed working you up into a frenzy.

Yoongi smirked, winking at Jimin and slamming his hips into yours, burying himself into you completely.

The car started slowing down, and Jin’s panicked voice rang behind Yoongi’s heaving form.

“We’re here, there’s so many cameras! Stop it, you two!”

Sure enough, there were hundreds of cameras outside, flashes going off every few seconds, waiting for the biggest boyband in the world to step out onto the red carpet.

Yoongi pounded into you harder, sweat running down his temples. He was growling with each thrust, the sound rumbling from deep inside his chest and sending a delicious thrill up your spine.

The car rolled to a stop, directly in front of the sea of people. Hushed murmurs were going around as everyone strained to peer through the tinted windows.

“What’s up? Why aren’t they stepping out?”

“Is something the matter?”

“Are you sure they are inside?”

A few reckless journalists tried to inch closer and glance through the windows. But the blinding camera lights reflected off the glass, completely blocking out the interior of the limousine.

Inside, Jimin hastened to pat down Yoongi’s streaming face, his nerves strung out completely. Yoongi buckled over and collapsed on Namjoon’s shoulder, blissed out at his climax. Jin grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back into his seat.

There was no time to be lost, and you got to work immediately, sucking Yoongi clean and zipping him up. You were just done tucking his shirt back neatly when one of the agency’s managers politely knocked on the door.

Looking up, you grinned at Yoongi, patting his knee.

“All done. Off you go, guys.”

You stayed back, keeping yourself hidden while the boys got out of the car one by one, smiling and waving at the crowd. The camera flashes multiplied manifold, clicking incessantly as the lenses gobbled up your boyfriends.

─── ·❆· ───

“I miss you,” you whined, pouting at your phone screen. Hoseok’s gorgeous face pouted too, as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I miss you too, Y/N. Everyone does.”

A chorus of groans behind Hoseok declared their assent. Taehyung’s head popped into the screen, and he settled his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder.

“It’s so frustrating without you, Y/N.”

You sighed and shook your head sadly.

“I know, it’s the same here.”

“Hold up, Yoongs wants to talk,” Hoseok said, moving his phone and pushing it into Yoongi’s hand.

“Babe...” he drawled, only half-awake from his power nap. “Get on a flight and come over.”

You twisted the cord on the hoodie you were wearing.

“How? You guys are all so busy. You’re touring so many places. Besides, your schedule is jam-packed.”

Namjoon’s voice piped up from the background.

“I got an idea.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Are you sure this will work?” you asked, shimmying into the black uniform Namjoon had brought you.

“Of course. You can travel with us throughout the tour and no one will know.”

Taehyung whistled on seeing your outfit.

“You know hyung, I’m beginning to see why they call you the brain of our band.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples popping out.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, holding you by the shoulders and turning you over to let the others see. “This is brilliant.”

The white letters were stamped boldly on the back of your outfit.

‘BBS CREW’

Jin came closer, pinning an identity badge on the belt loop of your jeans.

“There. You’re officially a crew member now.”

There was a knock on the door, and you ran to hide behind the clothes rack.

“We’re all set,” a crew member said, gesturing that it was time to go on stage. “In five.”

She left the door half open, and you peeped out from behind the rack.

“Time to go?” you asked.

“Yep,” Jin said, gripping your hand. “Come with us.”

There were so many people wearing the same outfit as yours, milling around the backstage rooms. It was very easy to blend in.

You walked with the guys to the very entrance they would go through, heart fluttering to hear the thunderous welcome they received from the audience as they stepped on stage.

It was a terrific experience to stay so close to the stage and see them perform. It was even more astounding to watch the audience get enthralled in the magic your boyfriends created. You stood at the wings, your heart swelling with pride.

After a while, it was finally time for a break, and the guys made their way off stage. They were soaked in sweat, and were panting hard.

“Sprained my ankle,” Hoseok whispered, limping gingerly while Jimin supported him.

“Fan, please,” Yoongi groaned, and a crew member hurried to get him a mini fan.

People were running everywhere, stylists were dabbing touch ups to the makeup and assistants were helping the guys change into the outfits for the next routine.

You hurried to Hoseok’s side, kneeling beside him and taking his hand. A medic was tending to his sprain, and you squeezed his hand tenderly.

“You okay?” you whispered, and he managed a weak nod.

“Better rest this foot,” the medic murmured, to which Hoseok shook his head.

“No. Rest after the concert. Gotta dance.” He was clenching his teeth tightly.

A heavy hand gripped your shoulder, and you looked up. Namjoon was standing with a mini fan, sweat streaming down his face.

“He won’t listen to the medic,” you said in a low voice.

“I know,” he sighed, gently pulling you up to your feet. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like this all the time.”

You nodded, looking around. Everyone was holding mini fans and wiping their sweat off with towels. Yoongi was sprawled out on the floor, and a crew member was fanning him with a big cloth.

“This is hard,” you said, turning back to face Namjoon.

“Yes. But they’re all strong. They’ll handle it.”

You nodded again. This was something they were used to. It would take you some time to get used to it, though.

“Here,” Namjoon said, clasping your hand and walking towards the wings again. The audience were still energetic, doing the fan chant over and over until the guys would get on stage again. Their light sticks were glowing bright, lighting up the whole arena and making it feel as if the stars had rained down to watch the concert.

“See that?” Namjoon whispered, his voice taking on a tone of astonishment. “That’s surreal. So much love, so much energy. They’ve all camped out in the cold for two days. Forget us, imagine how much they’d have gone through to get here.”

You hummed in agreement, still lost in the beauty of the light sticks.

“That’s who we perform for,” Namjoon said, his voice warm and sincere.

You smiled and looked back at his shining face. His eyes were reflecting the radiance of thousands of light sticks.

“Stand by in three...” someone’s voice shouted, and all the guys shot up to their feet with exhausted groans.

They assembled in line again, ready to get on stage for the next performance. One by one, they hurried through the entrance, until everyone except Namjoon had gone back to the waiting area.

“Namjoon-ssi!” someone screamed in alarm, and you shook his arm to get him going.

“Go on, Joon,” you hissed, trying to push him into action.

He looked at you in a daze, and dipped his head urgently.

“Namjoon-ssi!” Another voice called out in emergency, when he cupped your chin and captured your lips in a frantic kiss.

You saw people running towards Namjoon out of the corner of your eyes. There were confused shouts, as the red digital timer counted down the seconds to cue the music.

In a quick flash, he broke the kiss and squeezed your hand, running over to join his mates on stage.

─── ·❆· ───

“Jinnie?”

The mischievous eyes twinkled at you when he replied with a coy “Hm?”

You were lying on his chest, content with listening to his heartbeat thudding away. When you raised your head to look at him, you placed your chin on his ribs, making him squirm and giggle.

“Y/N! It tickles!”

He was still laughing, trying to lift your pointy chin when your next words caught him off-guard.

“Jungkook was so sulky today.”

His laughter died down, the glee on his face replaced with an inscrutable emotion.

“Do you know why?” you pressed, not ready to leave it undiscussed. “He looked like-”  you batted your lashes, “-like he was pissed off at us.” You drew a long breath. “Mostly at me.”

Jin was quick to cup your cheek, tutting at the last comment.

“Of course not, Y/N. He was probably nervous about the concert.” He could clearly see that you weren’t convinced. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

You nodded, lost in thought. Did Jungkook not want to be part of the relationship? He hadn’t kissed you or said a kind word to you in days. He had flinched hard when you had touched him earlier in the day. You were about to open your mouth and voice out your thoughts when the bed dipped beside you, and Taehyung’s large sinewy hands landed on your waist.

“Jin hyung, I need to cuddle Y/N to sleep,” he said, his sleepy voice deeper than it normally was.

You swallowed your words, forgetting your thoughts at the deep voice booming into your back. Jin hummed his acknowledgment to Taehyung, gazing at the ceiling in peace, content with having you draped on his chest.

The boys rarely closed their doors, because it was so normal for one or the other to pop into your room at night. You were in love with all of them, yes, but you always slept with Jin. He had been your first boyfriend, and it was a given that you would go to bed with him every night.

The rest of them dropped by sometimes, as Taehyung had just done. Sometimes it even led to threesomes and steamy hot sex. But tonight, you were content with the Jin-Taehyung sandwich. Because the boys were frequently in and out of the room, you left the door open at night.

A digital watch somewhere in one of the rooms lit up its iridescent digits, sounding a slight chime when it turned 2 am.

You were having a dream, and the sound interrupted it, waking you up. You had no desire to open your eyes. You lay with your eyes closed, listening to Jin’s even breathing in tranquil happiness.

Taehyung moaned slightly in his sleep, burying his head into your neck and crushing you tighter against his chest. His thick hair brushed against your skin, and you grudgingly opened your eyes.

It was so dark, and you made out Jin’s hand stretched towards you, in case you wanted to nestle into the crook of his armpit. You smiled to yourself, loving how sweet he was. You wanted to crawl into his arms, so you decided to move slightly.

You raised your head, and your sleep-heavy eyes caught sight of a figure sidling along the open door, the sudden apparition eliciting a strangled scream from deep within your bosom. You rubbed your eyes and squinted again, but the apparition had vanished.

“What? What is it?”

Jin was up in an instant, his groggy voice somehow soothing your anxiety. Taehyung woke up too, and between them, they asked you what had happened, and you pointed at the door with shaking fingers.

“I- think I saw someone. Something.”

Jin squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Y/N, baby, what exactly did you see?”

Your nerves were shaken so bad you couldn’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“Someone- was watching… me. I only saw the eyes. And then- it- disappeared.”

Jin looked at Taehyung, the brief glance laden with meaning.

“Okay, I’ll go investigate. Taehyung, stay with Y/N.”

Jin got out of bed, tiptoeing out of the room in search of the mysterious apparition. Taehyung hooked his chin on your shoulder, hugging you protectively and blowing air softly on your neck. Jin was gone for a good ten minutes before he returned to the room.

“I did a thorough sweep, Y/N. There’s no one at the house except the guys.”

He climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over his legs. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t worry baby, even if he or she comes back, you’ve got two strong boyfriends in this room to protect you.”

God, Jin was so good at making you feel perfectly safe. You smiled and squeezed his hand back. Taehyung hummed behind you, agreeing to Jin’s words.

In a few minutes, Jin was peacefully breathing again, his hand resting on your waist. It was heavy, but the weight gave you reassurance.

─── ·❆· ───

“Yoongi!”

Hoseok’s morning routine included waking up his friend and kicking him out of bed. The guy was simply impossible to rouse, and the rest of the guys steered clear of his morning temper. He reserved a string of eloquent curses to fire at the unfortunate person who woke him up, intentional or otherwise.

Hoseok and you were the only ones immune to his foul mouth. Hoseok simply cursed back at him, and you had a completely different method of waking Yoongi up. A method that involved locking your lips around his morning wood and humming around it.

Today, however, you weren’t around to save Hoseok’s ears.

“Where the hell is Y/N?” Hoseok muttered to himself, ripping the sheets off the man curled like a kitten underneath. Yoongi had a large queen-sized bed, but he insisted on rolling into a ball when he slept. It was endearing to find him curled up like that, but the next moment he would hiss and scowl, cross at being woken up. That man certainly ran hot and cold so quickly.

Yoongi opened his mouth, ready to go off, when Hoseok pushed a pillow into his face.

“Save your breath. I’m gonna go find Y/N. Get your ass off the bed, hyung.”

The rest of the guys were up and about, chattering noisily and clattering dishes in the kitchen.

“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU USE THAT PAN FOR THE EGGS?”

“Taehyung I swear to God if you break that plate…”

“Namjoon just flip the pancake, man you’re burning it!”

Hoseok waded through the noise, walking down the kitchen and crossing a suite of rooms. His sharp ears picked up your whimpers, and he followed the sounds, briskly trotting towards the source.

The door was half-open, and he stepped in, not bothering to knock.

“Goodness, what a racket!”

Jimin had you pinned up against the wall, your legs wrapped tight around his lithe body. One of his hands was around your neck, and the other was working on rubbing your clit. He had been ramming into you hard, and he jerked to a stop at Hoseok’s voice.

“Hobi hyung!”

Hoseok licked his lips when he saw your pretty little cunt filled to the brim with Jimin’s thick cock. He felt himself stirring in his pants.

“Such a noisy one,” he said, walking towards you. “I could hear her whining all the way in the kitchen.”

Jimin grinned, his eye-smile lighting up his face.

“I’m doing my job right then.”

Hoseok snickered, tracing his finger along the bridge of your nose, bringing it over your lips. You opened up obediently, sucking on his finger with closed eyes, still impaled on Jimin’s cock.

“You need something to stuff your mouth with, darling,” Hoseok murmured, and you nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied though, and he glanced at Jimin, and the latter slipped out of you without a word.

“No,” you moaned around the finger, whimpering at the loss.

“Use your words like a good girl, baby,” Hoseok said, popping his finger out of your mouth. “Only then you’ll get Jimin’s dick back.”

You loved it when Hoseok was all riled up and ready to snap. He was delicious when danger oozed out of his persona, threatening you into submission.

“My mouth needs to be stuffed, Hobi,” you said, drawing the syllables out sexily.

“With what, baby?”

Jimin’s sly smile returned, and he bit his lip while he waited for your pretty lips to form the words.

“With your cock.”

“That’s right.”

Hoseok nodded at you, and Jimin set you down gently, untangling your legs from his hips. You went down on all fours, and Hoseok turned so his back was supported against the wall. He sunk his fingers into your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your face towards his crotch.

You had learned the art of unzipping pants with your teeth, so it was easy to unzip him. Behind you, Jimin was spitting on his palm and stroking his length.

“Please,” you whispered, lust blinding you. “Please fuck me.”

The men grinned at each other, and with one savage push, Jimin sheathed himself inside you again. Hoseok had been slapping his dick against your cheek, and when you opened your mouth to moan at Jimin’s entrance, Hoseok took the chance to push himself inside your warm silky mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand grabbing at your roots hard. “Beat that pussy hard, Jiminah.”

Between the two of them, they found a steady rhythm that let you get fucked on both sides without any lag. Jimin was going at it hard, slamming himself into you like it was his last day on earth. It was sinfully delicious to hear his angelic voice groaning loud with each thrust.

You moaned around Hoseok’s cock, tapping his thighs softly. He stopped abruptly, looking down at you in concern. He slipped out of your mouth gently.

“Yes, baby?”

You ran your finger on your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your mouth. You knew it always drove him crazy when you did that.

“Hobi, sit on my face.”

A smirk spread on Hoseok’s face, and he chuckled lightly.

Jimin pulled your hips towards him, helping you lie down on the floor. Hoseok gently placed your head down, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable in the slightest. And then, he knelt so his thighs were on either side of your face, and dipped his pelvis down a bit, ghosting his weight on you.

You reached out and pulled his thighs closer, whining “Just sit on me please.”

He giggled, his whole body vibrating in mirth.

“Want me to teabag you, little slut?” He lowered himself down a little more. “Huh? Is that what you want?”

“Mmnnhhhh” you buried your face into his balls, and Jimin lay down flat on the floor, his face burrowed into your clit. His lovely lips clasped tight around your bud, his tongue working hard and fast to reduce you to a pool of wobbly jelly.

Above you, Hoseok grabbed his dick and pumped himself hard, dipping his balls in and out of your mouth all the while. He growled when you sucked on them and used your teeth to slightly graze them.

His hands roamed over your chest, gathering your breasts and massaging them. He saw Jimin eating you out at a feral pace, and a fresh pang of want made his dick throb. He aligned his cock between your supple mounds, starting to fuck your breasts while you suckled on his balls.

“Fuck, Y/N. You are a damn fucking goddess,” he breathed, picking up his pace and working his cock faster, amazed at how your breasts bounced so beautifully around him. His thighs started quivering, and you could feel his sweat beginning to moisten his skin. He was so close.

He ran his hands over your breasts and traveled down, leaning forward a bit, doubling up so that his face was in level with your navel. His hot breath sent all your nerves into overdrive, and he started kissing a line down to your belly button.

You moaned out loud, but the sound came out strangled because you had a mouthful of balls. Jimin felt you tremble and shake under him, and he smiled into your pussy. He worked his finger into you, curling and twirling proving even his fingers could dance.

You felt Hoseok’s tongue lick a hot circle around your belly button, and that was it for you. There were stars in your vision, and you trembled so hard that Jimin gripped your calves tight, helping you ride it out. Hoseok straightened his back, seeing you shake all over. He put his arm around your neck and held on to your shoulder, wiping your sweaty forehead and kissing your hand softly, cooing to you.

Jimin shot up the next moment, wiping his mouth and laughing that sweet tinkling laugh.

“Hyung, she squirted all over me!”

Hoseok had just finished shooting his cum all over your breasts, and you strained to look at Jimin.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Jimin.” Hoseok tilted his hips and you propped yourself up to look at the mess you had created. All of Jimin’s shirt, right from the collar to his torso, was soaked.

“I’m sorry... let me clean it,” you reached your hand out, and he simply swatted it away.

“What are you sorry for?  Lie back down and let me eat your pussy again, baby.”

─── ·❆· ───

Eighteen months ago

“Jinnie,” you called, turning to face your boyfriend who was stuffing his face with noodles. You were fidgeting before the mirror, unsure what your boyfriend’s reaction would be.

“Huh, babe?” he asked, still busy scraping the last bits of noodles from the takeout box.

You quickly stole one last look at yourself in the mirror and then marched to the side of the bed. His suit was strewn over the white sheets, and he was in his boxers, slurping noodles like his life depended on it.

“Tell me if this dress is okay,” you said, standing directly before him.

“Why, that’s a lovely dress, you’re so pretty!” He paused to fan his mouth, the spice finally catching up to him. “Hot. Damn hot. You. And the noodles.” He fluttered his hands wildly, coughing dramatically.

You tossed a water bottle to him, giggling at his red face.

“So,” he said, sipping the water thankfully, “why do you even ask that? I bought that dress for you.” He scrunched his nose up, looking at you in mischief. “Are you doubting my taste?”

He got a well-aimed pillow thrown against his face, and he laughed.

“Why else would you ask?” he raised his voice like a bratty child.

“This.”

You pointed to your boobs, biting your lip. He pushed the cushion under his head, ogling at your body lazily.

“I don’t see anything wrong with your rack.” He smiled proudly to himself. “You look awesome.”

“But,” you sighed, nervously pulling at the fabric. “The neckline- it’s too deep.”

“So? It’s even more sexy.”

He didn’t seem to get it.

“Seokjin,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What about the rest of the guys? What would they think? Isn’t this more... like… suitable for when we go on a date, alone, just the two of us?”

“Ah.” He finally understood what you were going on about. The dress had a very low neckline, and you found it weird that he had suggested you wear it to the party with his friends.

He cleared his throat as if he were going to say something. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not a sound escaping his lips.

“Y/N, listen. I need to tell you something. But can it wait until after the party?”

He saw the curiosity burning on your face, but you managed to nod.

“Also, don’t forget to wear the fishnet stockings I got you.”

You tilted your head and gazed at him, pursing your lips.

“Are you trying to show off before the guys, Kim Seokjin?” you asked, accusingly.

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Just wear it to the party and I’ll tell you all about it later.”

———❖———

You were slipping your heels off, Seokjin was lending you his arm to balance yourself. He had looked stunning in his suit, and you had loved the way his eyes streamed while he joked and kept everyone in splits.

It was a very hush-hush party open only for the label’s artists and their dates. Seokjin didn’t have much privacy in his life, and he tried his best to take advantage of the precious few private parties that came his way.

“Careful,” he said, catching hold of your arm just before you slipped. “I don’t know what you get by torturing your feet like that.”

You simply giggled, pouting your lips at him. “You’re too tall, Jinnie. I need to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”

And there, you had done it. You had made the master of jokes blush so hard his ears turned red. He cleared his throat, his breadcheeks straining hard to contain his smile.

“Let’s go and have a drink.”

He tried to walk ahead, but you caught his sleeve and tugged.

“Jin, tell me what the big secret is,” you mewled, loving how good his toned arms felt. “You know, you said there’s something you had to say.”

He patted your knuckles, nodding sweetly.

“I know. That’s what I need the drink for.”

You huffed, watching him saunter over to the cabinet to pull a bottle of wine. He was so damn hot when he was in suits, but he was hotter when he was pulling his bow loose and mussing his hair. You followed him to the bedroom, tagging along like a lovesick puppy.

The rest of the chaotic group were drinking and fooling around in the living room, rocking the walls with their boisterous laughs. It wasn’t unusual for Jin to bring the boys over; they were always hanging around one time or the other.

“Ahem.”

You crossed your arms, and the gesture didn’t help Jin. Your boobs were squished together and the deep neckline made it impossible for him to focus. He licked his lips and took another sip of the wine to steady his nerves.

But Jin had such an easy relationship with you. He knew that he could talk to you about anything. He trusted you so much that he just knew what he was about to say wouldn’t break your relationship. He just needed to find a way to break the ice.

“Come here,” he murmured, patting his thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”

You glided towards him, settling down on his lap happily. Your cleavage was even closer now, and Jin just lost control.

He placed his glass down, not caring about staining the rug. With a deep moan, he pushed his face into your chest, burrowing into his favorite place in the world. He rubbed his face against the soft flesh, purring in delight.

You let him be, carding your fingers through his thick glossy hair. He would talk when he was ready. Meanwhile, you would enjoy your boyfriend’s attention contently. His teeth were grazing your skin now, sucking soft love bites to show his appreciation.

“Jin,” you breathed, and he lost it completely.

“Fuck, yeah. Say my name like that.”

He lifted his head to look into your eyes, and you saw the rich want coloring his pupils.

“Lemme inspect my girl,” he whispered, pushing his hand between your legs and feeling around for the familiar wetness of your undies.

“You’re soaking already, Y/N,” he groaned, and you saw his nostrils flaring. He gulped at the feeling, and his Adam's apple bobbed enticingly.  It was the most beautiful sight ever.

His finger pushed the fabric aside, easily scooping up your essence. He looked straight into your eyes as he brought his digit to his lips and licked it, curling his pink tongue and making your insides clench.

Jin was blessed with long bony fingers, and they were a bit crooked too. A fact he took huge pride in. Because it allowed him to do things to your pussy that no one else could. He slid one finger inside you, drinking in how bothered you looked.

With a soft groan, you parted your legs wider to give him better access. His finger pumped in and out of you, drawing strangled moans from your shaking body. He slowly increased his pace, never taking his eyes off you.

“J-Jin..”

He slid another finger in, and this time his crooked bony fingers found your happy place and pushed against it, reducing you to a whimpering mess on his lap. He never stopped, his chest puffing with pride when he saw how you came undone on his fingers.

“Wanna cum?” he asked, and you nodded vigorously. His grin made an appearance again.

“You gotta ride me first, baby.”

Smiling impishly, you tore the jacket off his shoulders in one swoop. His shoulders were so wide, and you loved grabbing onto them when you rode him. The white dress shirt underneath had gold-plated buttons, winking at you. Seokjin certainly deserved to be dressed from head to toe in gold.

You could hear the boys knocking things around in the living room, and the little wildcat in you reared its head. You liked the thrill of riding Jin with his friends just outside the room. Jin might never guess it, but you wouldn’t even mind if one of the guys actually walked in on you bouncing on your boyfriend’s cock.

Snaking your hand down to his crotch, you unzipped his pants and fished his dick out. He was rock-hard. Jin always had loads of glossy pre-cum, and you slowly worked his juices all over his shaft, stroking him. He grabbed your wrist, his plush lip caught between his teeth.

“Sit on me.”

You gladly obliged, shifting your hips and hovering over him. He pushed your undies aside with his thumb, and you slid down his length, sheathing him completely. Once he was fully in, you rotated your hips, drawing sharp curses from his pillowy lips.

“Ah shit, Y/N. That’s it. Faster, go faster.”

You picked up your pace, holding on to his broad muscular shoulders and bouncing as fast as you could. Jin usually wanted to see your breasts when you rode him. That day, however, he made no effort to undress you. The red fabric was bunched up unceremoniously around your waist, but your breasts were still clothed.

“Oh gosh, Y/N, allow me….”

He grabbed your hips, pushing himself off the bed and thrusting up into you. You let him take over, squeezing his shoulders and letting him rail you as he pleased.

Jin loved the whimpers escaping your dirty little mouth, the sounds egging him on to ruin you completely. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling your ears like a crescendo.

“Like my cock stretching you, huh?” He panted between his thrusts. His stamina was out of the world.

“You’re my little cockpuppet, aren’t you?”

His words always had the effect of reducing you to putty. That man had such a filthy mouth, one he was only too happy to unleash on you.

“Oh goddamn, Jin!”

You knew he was close; the taut flesh of his abdomen was quivering with the stirrings of a powerful orgasm. Your fingers clawed into his broad shoulders just in time.

Jin sounded nothing like his ordinary self when he cummed. He had a special sex voice that only you had the privilege of hearing. He moaned out loud, growling like an animal in pain as he shot all his seed inside your walls.

You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, twitching as your pussy milked him for all his worth. His breaths came out in hot pants, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“Feeling good, baby?”

He looked into your eyes, and you smiled happily at him.

“Never been better.”

The soft breadcheeks stretched into a smile. Damn, he was so beautiful when he smiled like that.

You hooked your finger under his chin.

His finger was tracing circles over the fishnet stockings, and you raised an eyebrow naughtily.

“Since when are you into fishnets?”

He chuckled slowly, chewing his lip.

“It wasn’t exactly for me... Remember when I said I had something to tell you?”

You huffed in impatience, gripping the hair at the base of his neck and peering at him curiously.

“Come on! Tell me. Now.”

He looked down at where both your hips joined. He slid his softening dick out of you, and you silently helped him tuck himself back into his pants.

The sound of the zipper closing shattered the silence. He bit his lip and peered into your eyes.

“Y/N,” there was a slight shake in his voice. “Have you ever…” His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips. “What do you think of…”

You blew out your cheeks. It was unusual for your ever-confident boyfriend to sound so doubtful.

“Just say it, Jinnie.”

He took a deep breath, and ran his fingers up your thigh, gathering his thoughts.

“Y/N baby, you sometimes moan in your sleep.”

You smiled at him playfully.

“What do I moan?”

He knotted his eyebrows and sighed softly.

“You moan the names of the other members.”

The smile froze on your face, your heart steadily dropping in your chest. It felt like someone had shoved a giant block of ice down your throat.

“I- I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t…”

Jin saw the panic on your face and shook his head hastily.

“Hear me out, Y/N.” He reached his palm to cup your cheek. “Wait, listen.”

He hadn’t meant to make you feel guilty in the slightest. He shushed you and blurted the words out:

“I meant to ask what you thought about sharing.”

You wrinkled your forehead in confusion.

“Sharing what?”

He wiggled his nose, carefully looking at your reaction as he said the words:

“Sharing you with the other members. Like- like a poly relationship.”

Your jaw dropped, and you regarded your boyfriend with a wary look. Was he really suggesting that? Or was it a snide question? You knew the Jin you loved would never be mean to you. He was too straightforward and blunt to beat around the bush.

“Are you… really asking me?”

His finger traveled up your face and traced your cheekbone.

“Of course I am. You can tell me no if I crossed a line.” He paused for a second.” I genuinely want to know if you’d like it.”

You bunched his shirt up in your fists, scared of what would happen next. Would he hate you if you said “Yes”? Would he feel inadequate? Would he feel like he’d been cheated on?

It was a while before you found your voice.

“Am I going to lose you?”

His face became serious.

“Why would you? Of course not! Baby, I’m the one suggesting it.”

He was suggesting it? The thought made your head spin. It was all too raw to process.

“Are you drunk, Jinnie?”

You knew he wasn’t. Your boyfriend had an extremely good tolerance for alcohol. He shook his head without taking his eyes off your face.

“Don’t worry, I am not. And no, I am not going to back out in the morning.”

He really was serious. You chewed on your lips, gazing at his open face.

“And- the guys, how will you talk to them about… this?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, his rare dimple peeking at you.

“I may have already talked about it with them.”

You drew back in horror.

“What?!”

He shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. He had talked about it with his guys, and they had been open to trying it if you really wanted it. Jin knew how your mind worked, and he was sure you’d want to try at least once.

“Sh, Y/N. It’s all up to you now. No one will judge you for it. I know the guys. They all adore you. Just tell me if you want to try this.”

Your hands flew to your hot face in a poor attempt at hiding yourself. Jin’s big palms caught your wrists.

“Don’t hate me,” you whined, your voice so low it was close to breaking.

———❖———

Jin held your hand tight as he guided you to the living room. The six other guys were boisterously arguing about something. A sudden hush blanketed the noise as soon as Jin ground to a halt in the middle of the room.

You refused to look up, staring at the rug like your whole body would ignite and go up in flames if you did.

“Let’s go to the guest bedroom,” Jin said, addressing the men in the room. He jerked his head at them and turned on his heel, pulling you with him.

The bedroom was the biggest in your apartment, and it housed two queen-sized beds. You had originally intended to rent it out to your friends before your boyfriend came along.

Jin drew the blinds and returned to your side, tapping his foot on the floor gently. One by one, the guys made their way into the room, forming a semicircle around Jin and you.

They were all still in the suits they had worn to the party. Granted, a few ties and bows were loosened and some suits were specked with pizza crust. But they looked just as fucking handsome as ever, disheveled or otherwise.

Everyone looked slightly nervous, and they waited for someone to break the ice. Namjoon, used to his role of the leader, took the lead naturally.

He cleared his throat, glancing at you.

“Y/N, I… um… understand this is all new, but…”

Jin stared at Namjoon, silently urging him to use his eloquent mouth to come up with something more confident.

Namjoon took a step forward, his palms open to in an attempt to instill trust.

“We all love you so much, and I assure you that there’s nothing to be worried about.”

The rest of the group nodded in silence, and you looked at Namjoon through lowered lashes. This was so surreal. Was it all a dream?

Jin squeezed your hand, and you squeezed it back. Gosh, this was so real.

You saw the polished tips of Namjoon’s shoes advance towards you.

“If you say no, we’ll leave this room and forget that this ever happened. We’d understand.”

God, no. You couldn’t say no. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t want them. But how was it all true? How did all seven of them like you back? Was it right to even think about it?

“No,” you saw the tips of Namjoon’s shoes stop abruptly on the floor.

“No," you repeated, "I can’t say no.”

The gleaming shoes hesitantly made their way towards you again.

He stood directly in front of you, and Jin let go of your hand. A sudden feeling of panic rose up your chest, but it disappeared when Jin’s hand reached to grip your shoulder lightly.

Namjoon reached his hand out, saying,

“Is it okay if I do…” He rested his palm against your hip, “…this?”

You gulped and nodded, staring into his chocolate eyes.

He gently squeezed your hip, watching you in rapt attention.

“And this?”

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.

“You’re wearing fishnets,” Namjoon noted with barely contained eagerness, and you saw Jin cheekily nod his head at his band mate.

“Just how you like it, huh?” Jin teased, winking at Namjoon, who blushed in return.

Namjoon’s hand slipped around your waist, and he murmured in a soft voice, “Is it alright if we move closer to the bed?”

You nodded your head in a daze.

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the guys parted, breaking the semicircle and making way for you. It really was happening. The thudding in your ears grew louder and louder.

Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Come sit, honey.”

You turned and looked at your boyfriend, seeking reassurance before you let yourself go completely. Jin nodded his head and winked, a little smile playing on the edges of his lips. Drawing a shaky breath, you climbed into Namjoon’s lap, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“We can stop anytime you want,” Namjoon said, gazing earnestly at your face. “Do you want to continue?”

You bit your lip and looked at the men clustered around you. This was it.

“Yes, I want to.”

A barely audible sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips. Had he been holding his breath too? Was he nervous too? Nothing about his persona gave away his nervousness. His fingers were steady, so was his voice. He had an aura of confidence in every move.

“Are you sure, baby? You are okay with this?”

“Yes... oh yes, please.”

The last word was drawn into a needy whine, and Taehyung chuckled from across the room. A few of them were sitting on the other bed, watching the events unfold. Jin was standing at the foot of the bed, his hawk eyes never leaving you. Yoongi was leaning against the wall, looking unbothered. But only he knew the way his stomach was doing backflips, the thought of having you leaving him shaking in his shoes.

Namjoon gently cupped your jaw, pulling you in and brushing his lips softly against yours. His other hand roamed over to your shoulder blade, a finger hooking under the spaghetti strap. Taking his sweet time, the man peeled the strap off your shoulder, his hand moving to free the other strap as well.

“Ready?”

His whisper was full of lust, and you nodded in urgency. With one fluid tug, he pulled the top of your dress down towards your waist, leaving your lace push-up bra for all the men to see. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere in the room, but you were far too gone to identify who it belonged to.

Your eyes flitted over to Jin’s, and you saw him looking straight at your chest, enthralled. He didn’t look the least bit concerned. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying it, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gulped at the sight.

There was a deafening silence in the room, it was almost unbearable. Namjoon’s hand roamed over to your thigh-high stockings, and his long index finger slipped under the elastic band, dragging sinful lines along your skin.

He sighed darkly, admiring the way your legs looked. He had only mentioned to Jin about his kink for fishnets in passing. He couldn’t believe Jin had remembered.

His other hand was on your back, his fingers hooked under the clasps of your bra.

Deftly, with just two fingers, he undid the clasps, ridding your skin of the offending fabric.

The cold air in the room coupled with the sudden nakedness gave you such a rush, so much that all the fine hair on your skin stood up in goosebumps. There were a few groans around you, and it became so hard to sit still on Namjoon’s lap.

“Make sure she’s feeling comfortable,” Yoongi murmured from his position against the wall, his palm resting ever so slightly on his bulge.

“Here,” Yoongi said, moving towards you and stooping to look into your eyes. “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?”

You nodded, too enthralled in his brilliant black eyes to answer.

He dropped his voice lower, sliding a finger along your jawline.

“Tell us what you want.”

Your nipples were so hard, painfully neglected by not one but seven men in the room.

“I-”  You looked at Namjoon, and gripped your hip gently, running his tongue over his plump lips. “-just, can you all take your shirts off?” Your naked torso was in stark contrast to their suits, and you were hyper aware of it.

Jungkook’s little giggle reached your ears, and you sighed in relief as one by one, all the suits and dress shirts came off, revealing sculpted chests and hard, taut abs.

God, Jin was fucking ethereal when he was naked, you always had to remember to breathe when he undressed. But now, right in front of you, seven sons of Aphrodite were offering you their shirtless bodies, letting you feast your eyes on godly perfection.

Namjoon’s bare chest heaved perfectly in harmony with yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your pores.

“Please…” you whined, needy for attention. “Please touch me.”

Yoongi groaned, rubbing his face against your neck, and starting to press kisses down your shoulder blades.

Namjoon nodded at the rest of them, and slowly everyone moved towards you, crowding around you like children around an ice cream truck. One strong arm pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on Namjoon’s lap, providing better access to the others.

Jimin dove straight into your chest, attaching his mouth to your breast and suckling eagerly. He gobbled up as much of the flesh as he could into his little mouth, earning shaky moans that spilled out of your lips.

Namjoon’s finger pushed your underwear away, dipping into your core and curling a bit. He popped out his dimples, smirking hard at Jin.

“Guys, hyung has already marked his territory.”

Jin’s ears went red, and he stammered out while waving his hands,

“It’s nothing like that! It’s just impossible to resist her.” He paused, looking down and grinning at you before adding, “You’re all gonna discover that soon enough.”

You giggled, catching sight of his red face and puckered lips. Jimin was still attached to your chest, working his devilish tongue on your breast.

“Show some love to the other tit too,” Jin said, and everyone chuckled, the tension in the air evaporating completely.

Soon enough, Jungkook’s veiny hand was kneading your other breast, and everyone closed in on you, their eager hands running all over your body, sending you tumbling into bliss.

─── ·❆· ───

Present day

“Yoongs?”

He was hunched over some sheets of music, his nerdy glasses making him look wise and serene.

“Huh?”

He removed his glasses, running his hand through his shock of black hair, mussing it up. A genuine smile lit his face up when he looked at you.

“Yeah, baby?”

You knew he was busy, producing music for one of his collabs. But he had asked you to hang out with him in the studio. And that was when Jungkook had entered, his face hostile and sullen, passing by to drop some of Yoongi’s lyric sheets. He had practically glowered at you, slamming the door behind him unnecessarily loud.

“Um, do you think Kook is mad at me?”

He looked surprised.

“No, why would he be?”

You hadn’t the faintest idea why. But something was up. You knew that. You had tried multiple times to talk to Jungkook, but he had just shrugged and slipped out of your efforts to light up a conversation.

“I think he doesn’t like this.” It had been a thought that had started out as doubt, but Jungkook’s behavior made the doubt grow stronger and stronger until you were subconsciously convinced that it was the reason.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.

“He doesn’t like what?”

“This.” You flung your arms out, tracing the air, frustrated. “Maybe he doesn’t really want to be in this relationship? I tried talking to him many times, but he just won’t speak to me.” You pursed your lips. “It has been weeks since he even smiled at me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi drawled, reaching to pull you closer. “You know he loves you. We all do. He’s probably overworked and exhausted. Try talking to him after some time, you know?”

You nodded absently, thinking of how Jungkook had sprung up like a startled cat and stomped out of the room while you were watching a movie with all the guys. Just because you had placed a hand on his thigh.

There was something off about Jungkook. But he shut up like a clam, choosing to slip out of the way whenever you tried to talk to him.

“Y/N?”

You snapped back to focus on Yoongi. He was partially right. They were all working their asses off for the new album. You would talk to Jungkook later.

“Okay, babe,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Your hand reached for the phone.

11:21 pm.

Yoongi had made lunch reservations for both of you. You still had plenty of time.

“You get going on that sexy producer thing you do,” you said, cozying down on his sofa. “We still have some time on our hands.”

So back he went, his serious face poring over the sheets of music sprawled on his table. Yoongi probably didn’t realize, but he looked like a grumpy kitten when he was concentrating hard on something.

You smiled at his bent head, swiping on your phone to check for emails from work. There were none. Good. Maybe you could scroll through Pinterest for new design ideas. You worked for an ad agency as a graphic designer. You had to always be on the lookout for new stuff.

The endless stream of pictures was flooding your feed, and your finger was trying to catch up. Ding. The notification chime wasn’t usually enough to distract you. But this time, it held the title you just couldn’t resist. It was a YouTube notification from your favorite graphic artist.

You were halfway through the video when the suggested section caught your eye. An involuntary chuckle shook your chest when you read the title.

“Boy band BBS talk about DATING and SECRET GIRLFRIENDS?!!”

It was classic clickbait. Something everyone seemed to be doing for views. You knew it was just a clip from the Red Carpet of the MTV Music Awards. You still remembered the hickey you had given Hoseok that had forced him to wear a turtleneck under his suit. Delicious times.

You had watched that video already, but something just pulled you towards the video. You would never tire of re-watching your seven gorgeous boyfriends slaying the red carpet.

Sure, you were right. It was just a clip that everyone who had followed the awards had already seen. The familiar questions about collabs, celebrity crushes, favorite food, every question your boyfriends were already tired of but answered anyway, made up the first 4 minutes. Click bait much?

“Haha we have all the love in the world, we have our fans,” Namjoon was saying, his sweet little dimple flashing at the camera.

“But,” the redhead insisted, her dazzling smile widening. “You boys have any secret dating lives we aren’t privy to?”

The answer was already in the question. No one was supposed to be fucking privy to that information. You pursed your lips, waiting for Namjoon’s sassy reply to tumble out of his lips.

“We wanna focus on our careers, we don’t have time to date,” he said, a small lilt of mockery creeping into his voice.

Damn, you had teased him mercilessly that night, bratty about him saying ‘not having time.’ You remembered how he had begged to lay a finger on you, and a satisfying warmth spread over your belly.

The video was ending, and you grinned at Namjoon’s closeup fondly. But just before the replay button came on, you caught onto something odd.

You had been scrolling down, and a few comments had popped up in your line of vision. People were screaming about how dazzling their bias looked, or how proud they were of the boys. But there were a few ones written by hawk-eyed fans.

“not at how bored JK got of the question at 6:48 lmao he’s so pissed”

“damn, was it just me, or did JK actually ROLL his eyes sfakjfkjfk hahaha”

What?

You hit the replay button, dragging the seeker to the last few seconds of the video.

There, glowering with mad eyes, stood Jungkook. He was well behind Namjoon, a bit out of focus around the 6:45 mark. He had put on a charming smile throughout the video. Until the host popped the dating question, at least.

For anyone else, it would seem like Jungkook was bored with the question. But you knew his quirks. He had been casually gazing at the camera, letting Namjoon answer the host’s questions. The word “dating” left the host’s lips, and Hoseok lightly touched his turtleneck at the exact time when Jungkook’s expression flattened out to a cold hard stare. He rolled his eyes ever so subtly, his face turned sideways. He had been annoyed.

Annoyed at Hoseok that he was reminded of who he was dating. Annoyed that the question had reminded him of the hickey his turtleneck was covering. More like disgusted. Disgusted at what exactly? At the host for asking that question? Or- was it at what dating meant to the eight of you?

“Y/N, babes?”

Yoongi’s voice finally reached your ears, and you looked up in a daze.

“Huh?”

He scratched his head, his other arm supporting the jacket casually flung over his back.

“I said we can go. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

Oh, the lunch. You had totally snapped out of focus.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you said, jumping up and slipping into your shoes. Yoongi watched you closely, a bit concerned.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You look... odd.”

You debated if you should tell him what was bothering you. But you didn’t want to ruin the date with your speculations. You’ll talk about it to your boyfriends after you had enough time to sort your feelings.

“No, it’s probably nothing, Yoongs. I’ll tell you later. Let’s go, I’m famished.”

You would have to tackle Jungkook and his surly temper later.

─── ·❆· ───

“How’s the track shaping up, hyung?” Taehyung asked, pouring more wine into Yoongi’s glass. You were cozily settled between Yoongi’s thighs, the warmth of his chest on your back.

“Hm, I worked out most of the chords,” Yoongi returned, picking up his refill and taking a sip. “But I still have some more work to do, especially with the bridge.”

You hummed contentedly, listening to your boyfriends discuss music, sprawled on the floor around the coffee table. It was lovely, watching their serious faces talk about what they loved and lived for. The door opened, and Jungkook walked in, clutching his sports bag.

He mumbled an “I’m home,” directed at his friends, before turning to kick off his shoes.

“…and before I knew it, the time had flown like… phew!” Yoongi was saying, while you eyed Jungkook’s bag. He had been going to the boxing ring too often these days. What was up with him? His hair was damp, and his face was flushed.

“…and then I bundled Y/N up into the car and we rushed off,” Yoongi said, and there it was again. You had been watching Jungkook’s face, and at the mention of your name, the annoyance - no, the disgust flashed across his features. He scoffed to himself, unaware of your attention. It wrenched your heart to see that, and you looked away.

Jungkook picked his bag up again and stormed towards his room. You watched his retreating back, only half-listening to Yoongi’s praise for the lobster frittata.

“You guys keep talking, I’ll be back,” you said, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Uh-huh,” Taehyung purred, craning his neck and offering his cheek for you to kiss too.

“Clown,” you giggled, dropping him a kiss, and giving him a playful shove. “I’ll be gone just a sec, don’t miss me,” you said, winking and jumping up to your feet.

You had to talk to Jungkook and ask him just what his problem was. You just couldn’t bear his sourpuss charade any longer.

———❖———

Loud music hit you in the face as soon as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room. The guys never bothered to close their doors, but Jungkook had lately started closing his. Another red flag waving right under your nose.

He was on the floor, doing pushups and grunting out at the exertion. His sinewy arms were trembling, and he had changed to shorts that revealed his muscular thighs shining with sweat.

The guy certainly was on the fast track lane to exhaustion.

“Jungkook,” you called out, straining your voice to be heard over the blasting music. “Hey! Can you hear me?”

He went on exercising without any acknowledgment, so you stormed to the stereo and turned it off with a click.

“What the fuck?” he growled, snapping his head up before he caught sight of you.

“Well, you couldn’t hear me,” you said, crossing your arms and standing your ground.

“Of course I could,” he sneered, getting up to his feet and wiping the sweat off his chin. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? You ignored it? What is that supposed to mean?”

He picked up his towel and started dabbing at his forehead, not even sparing you a glance.

“What do you want, Y/N? Why are you here instead of sucking Yoongi hyung’s dick?”

Your jaw dropped.

It was completely out of character for Jungkook to be so prickly. He was always the sweetest and goofiest man out of the lot. What had gone wrong?

“Jeon Jungkook, you dare not speak to me that way,” you said, bristling. “What is up with you? You are so sullen whenever I try to spark a convo.”

He scoffed and threw his towel down. His face was a strange mix of anger and disgust. You couldn’t understand what had ticked him off so bad.

“What is up with me? You tell me, because you’re so smart, Miss. Perfect.”

He crossed his arms and puffed his chest, using his height to his advantage to stare you down.

You huffed in impatience, stressed at his refusal to be drawn out. You had to simmer down and try to make him say what was bothering him.

“Jungkook, tell me why you’ve been so pissy lately. What did I do, to make you so upset? Just tell me.”

He glowered at you, the tips of his ears going red as he clenched his teeth.

“Good question. What didn’t you do?” His eyes swept over your clothes, taking in the wine splotch on your shorts. He averted his eyes, staring at his treadmill instead. “Whose cum are you leaking this time?”

The question was almost inaudible, but the spite in it had already reached you and poisoned the air in the room.

You stood rooted to the spot, shock numbing your senses.

“Did you just-” you struggled to keep the quiver in your voice under control. “-say that…”

You had never been in a real fight with any of your boyfriends, and this was a cold punch to your gut. You had only had the occasional bickering and loads of makeup sex after every disagreement. But this was new. This was raw, palpable and spiteful, and left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You waited for him to rush and say something, to explain and say he didn’t mean it that way. Just anything really.

But he didn’t clarify or even attempt to take his words back. He simply stood there, glaring into your eyes in contempt.

The YouTube video flashed before your eyes. The disgust in his face when he even thought of dating. When he thought of you. The thought crept steadily into your chest, twisting and crushing your heart. He resented you. He resented the relationship.

When you opened your mouth to break the heavy silence, your voice came out in a whimper.

“If you didn’t want to be in this relationship, you could have said so. No one forced you into it.”

He didn’t reply, choosing to glare at his treadmill in stony anger. You went on.

“If I’m keeping you from finding someone else or dating other better people, you could just say so. Instead of insulting me like this.”

He snapped his head to face you, fury painting his face red.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you said, scoffing and masking the low sob that threatened to escape your chest. “You resent being with me. You can’t even stand me. You don’t have to stay and feel trapped in this relationship. You think- you think-“ You bit your lip, “-you think I’m a slut. You could have just declined to be part of this. None of us forced you.”

His eyes went wide in shock.

“Why would you say that? That’s not fucking true.”

“Are you screwing with me, Jungkook? You don’t even look at me anymore. You cringe when I touch you. Do you think I’m blind to not see how much you hate being in the same room as you? You haven’t kissed me or spoke a kind word to me in weeks.”

He sighed hard, running his hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

You weren’t going to cry; you weren’t one to break down so easily. But there was a strange sadness in your tone when you asked,

“Do you love someone else? Are you feeling- trapped with me…with the rest of us?”

He grimaced, the steely look coming back to his features. He shook his head in despair, straining visibly to keep his calm.

“No. What do you… No, what the hell? Of course not. You’ve got it all fucking wrong.”

“Enlighten me then. Spit it out, Jungkook. I’m not a mind reader.”

Taehyung’s voice drifted from the living room, in a muffled sing-song tone:

“Y/N! Starting to miss you here!”

Jungkook’s lip curled, and he stomped to slam the door shut with a bang. He turned to face you, hot rage clouding his eyes.

“This. It’s this. I can’t bear this anymore.”

You had no idea what he was talking about. But you hated loud noises, and the loud slam had pissed you off.

“What exactly is this this you’re talking about?”

He scrunched up his face impatiently.

“God, Y/N. You just- you’re so oblivious all the time.”

This was getting nowhere. He was talking in circles, and you weren’t going to humor him anymore. The slam of the door had already set a headache off, and your patience was wearing thin.

“Just say it already. I’m not interested in guessing games.”

He buried his face in his hands, clawing at his skin. When he looked at you again, you could see the vein in his forehead stand out.

“I can’t do this anymore. This is so stupid. It’s such a dumb idea. I don’t like this. ”

There it was. Out in the open.

“So, you want out? Are you breaking up with me? I already told you that no one is forcing you to stay. And you told-”

“Shut up, Y/N. Just shut up.”

You stopped, jaw open at his interjection. He shook his head, and you could see his nostrils flaring.

“Y/N, I love you. Okay? Don’t be silly.”

“What? Why the fuck do you keep contradicting yourself, Jeon Jungkook?”

He sighed and pulled your wrist, dragging you to the wall. He trapped you between his arms, pressing his warm body against yours, dominance lighting up his feral eyes.

“I want you to be mine. Just mine.” He sighed again, and his hot breath fell on your lips. “I can’t share you.”

“But- “

Your words were cut off abruptly, as his lips crashed into yours, silencing any words that were bubbling up in your mouth.

His kiss was hot and desperate, as if he was scared to stop. Scared that you would say something that would break his heart if he released your lips. The corner of his lip was trembling, and he bit into your lips to hold on just a little longer.

He had strong muscly arms, and they were crushing you relentlessly.

“Stop…” you breathed, pushing against his chest. “Jungkook, stop”

“No,” he moaned, whimpering with closed eyes. “Y/N, please…”

You pushed harder and violently struggled in his grasp until he had no choice but to let you go. Shoving him away, you spat at him with wet lips.

“Jungkook, this is a polyamorous relationship. You know it doesn’t work that way.”

He threw his hands up to hold the sides of his head, a painful look on his face.

“I can’t… it’s not fair. I can’t even stand the thought of the other guys touching you. Kissing you.” He grimaced. “Or fucking you.”

It was your turn to grimace.

“It’s not fair? I’m not just yours. You knew this when you got into this relationship. Jin is the one- “

He snarled and raised his voice cutting you off.

“He’s responsible for this fucking mess. He’s so fucking selfish, and …and…”

“Stop right there, Jeon Jungkook,” you said, your voice raising to a shout. “Don’t you dare call him selfish. He’s nothing but supportive of sharing. Don’t you dare.”

Jungkook kicked the treadmill’s frame, losing his temper.

“He stole you from me. He fucking betrayed me!”

“Don’t be delusional, Jin was my boyfriend longer than any of you.”

“HE STOLE YOU FROM ME!!!”

You flinched at his loud voice, pressing a finger to your throbbing temple. Clutching the sides of your head, you walked away from him.

“I’m outta here. I can’t listen to your deluded screams anymore.”

You stomped to the door, turning the knob to get out. But Jungkook was quicker, and he reached the door to block you from opening it.

“Let me go,” you said, speaking through clenched teeth.

“No,” he said, leaning his back against the door and glowering at you. “Fucking listen to me, Y/N.”

You had no other choice, so you folded your hands and glared at him in stony silence.

“I was the one who fell for you first. I told Jin hyung that I was in love. He told me I was too young, and that it would damage the band’s reputation, and that I would lose all our female fans if the word got out. He convinced me that it wasn’t wise to date.”

You didn’t reply, choosing to scowl instead. He angrily went on.

“And then imagine my surprise when he went ahead and asked you out. And you betrayed me by falling for him.”

Your scoff interrupted his flow.

“I’m sorry, I betrayed you? Have you gone crazy?”

“It would have been me if Jin hyung hadn’t stolen you from me. I would have been your boyfriend, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let any other guy lay a finger on you.”

The disgust in his tone annoyed you to no end.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I chose Jin? Do you think you could just turn back time and replace him? Are my feelings that insignificant to you?”

He shook his head urgently.

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“And did you tell Jin that you were in love with me? Did you explicitly say my name?”

“No, I- I told him I was in falling for someone. I didn’t say your name,” he mumbled. “But he ought to have known, you were the only girl in my life at that time.”

You blew your cheeks in exasperation.

“Did you think he could fucking read your mind? You’re being so damn stupid, Jungkook.”

He whined again.

“He ought to have known. He knew I liked you very much.”

“He was just looking out for you! He didn’t ‘betray’ you. Why the hell did you agree to be in this relationship then, if you were so against sharing?”

Pain flashed across his face once more.

“Because there was no other way to be in your life. I gritted my teeth and bore it so long just to have a part of your heart. But…”

You tapped your foot, waiting for him to continue.

“…But I can’t share anymore. It kills me to see them look at you that way. It just…kills me.”

There was no response ready on your tongue for that. You had never expected such a situation to arise. You had talked and talked for days with the guys before jumping into the relationship. You had been confident about the success of the talks, but you weren’t sure anymore.

You sighed heavily. This wasn’t going to work. Jungkook and you, it was strained beyond repair.

“I love you, Jungkook. But I can’t and won’t choose you over the others. It doesn’t work that way.”

Something inside him snapped, and he snarled at you, bunching up your nightshirt in his fist.

“What if you got pregnant? Whose child will it be? Who are you going to marry? All seven of us? How will you explain it to the world?”

You struggled in his grasp, clawing at his hand to shake it off.

“It will be Jin I marry. And if I got pregnant, there will be eight people to love the child.” You closed your eyes, clenching your fists. “There’s nothing that can change that.”

The repulsion on his face was clear as day.

“You’re a fucking slut, Y/N.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Hey,” Jin called out, smiling at you from his position on the couch. Yoongi and Taehyung were passed out on the floor, the empty wine bottles sprawled around their bodies.

“Hey,” you said, flashing him a watery smile. “When did you come?”

“Just now,” he said, patting his thigh and signaling you to sit on it.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“I need to-” you winced, gingerly pressing on your knuckles. “-can you get me some ice?”

His gaze fell on your swollen knuckles, and he jumped up hastily.

“Y/N baby, what happened?”

He rushed to get the ice, barreling to a stop in front of the fridge. There, with his head poking into the freezer door, stood a figure in gym shorts.

Jin knocked at the curly mop of hair, complaining loudly.

“Yah Jungkook-ah, get your head out. I need to get some ice.”

Jin was taken aback when Jungkook whirled around, sporting a bright crimson nose, a tiny trickle of blood running down one nostril.

“The fuck-“ Jin started to say, but Jungkook pushed him away, wiping his nose and storming back towards his room.

When Jin came back to you with a bowl of ice cubes, his quick mind had already sensed a problem.

“Y/N, what happened? Did you- punch him?”

He raised his eyebrow, scrutinizing your face.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t been ready for that.

“But why? You’ve got to tell me. We shouldn’t be hitting each other like this.”

You let Jin hold your fingers and ice them, holding your silence and thinking how best to explain it to him.

“I’ll tell you, but not now.”

He clucked his tongue in dissent.

“No, now.”

“Jin, just leave me be. Not here.”

Your boyfriend pursed his lips, and the disapproval was evident on the curl of his mouth. He pulled you up and guided you to your shared bedroom. It was farther down the suite of rooms, out of earshot from Jungkook’s.

“Out with it,” he said, closing the door and pulling you down to sit on the bed. “Now.”

You never kept secrets from any of your boyfriends. And this was a very big issue that you had no intention of hiding from Jin.

“Jungkook... he called me a slut.”

“What?”

He was on his feet, anger rising in his chest. He knew it wasn’t just dirty bedroom talk, judging from your swollen knuckles.

“Y/N, why did he say that? Tell me everything from the start.”

Ten minutes later, you had barely finished speaking when Jin stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

─── ·❆· ───

Namjoon and Jimin had been out all evening, working on the lyrics for Jimin’s new solo. They were surprised when they got back to a living room full of people, all looking stern and pissed.

“What’s up?” Namjoon asked, hanging his coat on the hook. “Did someone break something?” He internally prayed that no one had discovered the burnt pan stowed under the sink.

No one responded.

“What is it?” Jimin whispered to Taehyung, sliding into a spot on the couch.

“It’s Y/N…” Taehyung started to whisper back, and Jimin exclaimed loudly,

“Oh gosh is she pregnant?”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Taehyung hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes scanned the scene. There were only seven people in the room. Serious meetings were supposed to have all eight in attendance.

“So, what is this about?” he asked, settling down beside Jin. “And where’s Jungkook?”

Jin remained silent, his face red in a stormy temper. Namjoon looked past Jin at you, addressing you instead.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to respond when Jin broke the heavy silence with a piercing shout:

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

A minute later, a door opened and Jungkook slunk down the corridor, head bent. A hoodie was keeping his head covered, and he sat down on the couch opposite yours. He looked up obstinately, throwing his hood down, earning shocked gasps.

His nose was bleeding, and the blood had dried up in a red streak. His eye socket was a dark purple, and his cheekbone was swollen, effectively sealing his right eye shut.

Everyone was stunned, and indignant voices started talking all at once.

“Who did that?”

“How did this happen?”

“Jungkook, who did this to you?”

Jin snapped at no one in particular, barking out an annoyed “Everyone just shut up.”

He had a sonorous voice, one that commanded respect, especially when he raised it to a shout. The room quietened down, but a low murmur arose again when his shock of hair bounced, revealing a bleeding gash on his forehead.

“I called all of you here to say that our beloved Jungkook wants out of this relationship.”

He raised his palm to silence the babble of voices that broke out again, continuing with:

“He insulted our girlfriend and she broke his nose.”

Jungkook bowed head, choosing to scowl at the carpet.

“And the black eye?” Yoongi’s mild voice asked.

Jin dug his nails into his palms.

“I did that.”

Namjoon shook his head, tsking in disapproval.

“We need to hear both sides of the story, Jin hyung.”

When no one said anything, Namjoon looked at his youngest friend’s bent head.

“Well, Kook? Got anything to say?”

Silence.

Jin stared daggers at the man in the hoodie, his face a hot shade of crimson. His fingers gripped yours, squeezing them protectively.

“Well then,” Taehyung said, breaking the long awkward silence. “If you’ve got nothing to say…”

You couldn’t hold bear the tension in the room anymore.

“He doesn’t wanna share He wants out!” you exclaimed loudly. “He wants me all to himself! And…” you bit out, glaring at Jungkook, “…apparently, I’m a whore for being in this relationship.”

“What?!”

Hoseok was up on his feet, his fists clenched. Yoongi reached his hand out to grasp his hand urgently.

“Sit down, Hobi-yah.”

The murmur of indignant voices was rising to a fever pitch when Jungkook suddenly stood up. Head still downcast, he muttered:

“Save your breaths. I’m moving out.”

No one stopped him, and his dazed surprise was hidden under his hoodie. He dragged himself out of the room, the stares of his brothers burning into his skin.

“The fuck just happened?” Jimin asked, inspecting your swollen knuckles. “Why is this happening?”

You chewed on your lip, wondering the same thing. What had happened to your close-knit boyfriends? Why was Jungkook suddenly discontented with the bond you all shared? Would your boyfriends slowly fall apart and float away like Jungkook?

You looked around the room, watching the intent faces of your boyfriends as they listened to Jin’s account of the day’s events. Would you lose them all one by one?

─── ·❆· ───

It was really awkward to go to your boyfriends’ studios when they practiced. Awkward because Jungkook was there too, dancing and sweating it out with the rest of them. He removed himself from the room whenever you showed up, and the shift in the mood was palpable.

The others confided in you that they weren’t on speaking terms with Jungkook either, and that the practice sessions were becoming too uncomfortable to be around each other. You knew well enough that it would take a toll on the group’s performance as a whole. After all, communication was paramount to ensure they were perfectly in sync for their dance routines.

You wished to attempt one last time to see if you could talk sense into Jungkook. So, you found yourself standing outside Jungkook’s studio one evening, long after the others had packed up and left. You had half a mind to turn around and leave. But a small voice inside your head kept telling you to give it one last try. Your boyfriends were already suffering enough. You owed them one last-ditch effort to try and mend things.

You raised your hand to press the buzzer, still unsure. Was this going to be a mistake?

The door opened even before the buzzer stopped buzzing. Jungkook stood in the doorway, with his grey sweatpants on, his hair swept back with a headband. His eyes widened in surprise, and you saw his muscles flex when he tightened his grip on the doorknob.

You were at a loss for words. It was strange because you were never out of words.

“I-uh…I thought…”

His veiny arm found purchase on your blouse, and his lips came crashing down on your mouth. His mouth worked urgently, claiming dominance before you could oppose. He pulled you inside and gripped both your hands behind your back, slamming the door closed.

“Jung…” you panted out, but he pressed his mouth harder, drowning your words. He nudged you towards the wall with his body, pinning you in place. His mouth never ceased attacking you, while he worked to trap your wrists into one hand.

His other hand roamed all over your skin, clawing and grabbing your flesh in hunger. Jungkook couldn’t believe you had shown up on his doorstep after so many weeks. It felt like a fever dream, and he held on to every piece of skin he could hold, desperately anxious not to let you slip away.

“I knew you’d come back,” he moaned between breaths, “…to me.”

You struggled in his grasp, trying hard to shake his hand off your wrists.

“No,” you breathed, turning your head slightly to stop the barrage of soul-sucking kisses. “I didn’t come back to you…”

He froze momentarily. Just a moment later, his grip hardened around your wrists. The soft emotion on his features evaporated into thin air.

Without a word, he pushed you tighter against the wall, pinning you under his shoulder blades.

“So, you’re telling me…” he hooked a finger into the waistband of your jeans, “…that you didn’t want me? You never thought about…” he pulled the zipper down, “this?” His hand tugged the jeans down urgently and slithered into the crook between your thighs.

“Stop it,” you said shakily, feeling your arms starting to fall asleep.

But he paid no heed. He pulled your leg and hoisted your hips up against the wall. You felt insecure with both your legs wrapped around his body, with nothing to support you except the wall behind your back.

“You’re telling me…” he repeated, lifting your hips and slowly dropping to his knees while adjusting your legs so they were on both sides of his neck, “…that you didn’t miss me at all?”

By that time, you were hovering mid-air with your neck against the wall and the rest of your body awkwardly supported on his shoulders.

Your hands were free of his grasp, but they were still pretty useless because they were trapped under the shoulder joints that were straining to keep you from falling.

He grinned from between your legs, licking his lips maliciously. His finger pushed the crotch of your underwear aside. He bent lightly and blew against your bare core.

You couldn’t help it, your core clenched at the rush of hot air and it drew another smirk on his face.

“See? You want me,” he crooned, laying the pad of his finger against your clit. You jerked slightly, and he shushed you softly.

“Don’t squirm, love. You’ll fall and break your neck,” he added with a wicked smile. “We don’t want that, do we?”

“Stop it, Jungkook,” you started, but he dove into your clit at the exact moment.

`Though his demeanor was relaxed and careless, on the inside he was anything but. He pressed his tongue flat against your bud, lapping all your juices with feral thirst. He saw your thigh muscles tremble at his ministrations, and he smiled into your pussy. Gosh, he had missed you so damn much.

His tongue dipped and swirled around inside you, and it took all your discipline to stay in place without squirming and snapping your neck. You hadn’t forgotten what a master Jungkook was with his tongue.

He started sucking and sloppily slurping up everything you had to offer, so hard that you were sure you weren’t going to last. You were definitely going to break your neck.

“Stop, just…” you moaned, feeling a cramp beginning in your neck. “I can’t… let me down. Just let me down, please.”

He raised his head from your crotch.

“Why should I trust that you won’t run?”

You could no longer feel your arms.

“Don’t you trust that I love you?” you replied, struggling to stay in position. “Do you think I am fine with losing you? Don’t you understand that I love you just as much as I love the others?”

He cocked his eyebrow at the last sentence, the slight sting of the words sinking in. With a reluctant grunt, he put his hands under your hips, slowly peeling you from the wall and setting you down.

You weren’t sure if you were paranoid, but it seemed that he knew your arms were still numb. He took his sweet time tugging your pants further down your thighs, but all of a sudden, he flipped you over and caught hold of your wrists again.

Damn, right when the little pinpricks on your arms had begun and your arms were regaining strength.

He pushed and held you down so your chin was against the floor, while his knee dug into the back of your thighs. He felt your hands struggle, and he grinned to himself.

“Y/N baby, you’re so weak. Don’t fight me, love.”

You cursed and writhed under his body, but a steady hand of iron clawed at your hips and didn’t let go.

“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said, the slight sound of clothes scuffling behind you filling your ears. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

More sounds of something wet.

Page Break

Jungkook gave his shaft a few furious pumps, coating his thick glossy pre-cum all over his length. Damn, he was oozing so much pre-cum. He licked his lips and worked his dick, thinking of all the times in the past week that he had fantasized about your tight little pussy stretched around his cock.

His eyes scanned the pretty little birthmark on your left ass cheek. He smiled fondly, remembering how insecure you had been of it when you first started dating him. And the others. His smile vanished as quickly as it had come.

Jungkook had a lot of girth, and he usually prepped you well before entering. But not today. Not when you were writhing beneath him, trying to escape. With one quick push, he plowed into you, burying himself to the hilt.

A surprised whimper escaped your lips. He gave you no time to adjust, slamming into you repeatedly. The force of his thrusts shook your body, earning gasps that you fought hard to bite down. He kept up the unrelenting pace, pounding harder and harder with each thrust.

“What,” he panted between breaths, “won’t you moan for me?”

“Get off me, Jeon Jungkook,” you ground out through gritted teeth. He only chuckled in response.

His panting grew harder, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he was close. What would he do after that? He wasn’t going to let you go easily.

He pulled out and flipped you over, his hand returning to hold your hips down. Aligning his cock against your entrance, he pushed in again.

“Look at me,” he said, voice thick and needy. “Look at me when I cum in you.”

You stared back in defiance. Even though you loved Jungkook just as much as the others, none of them ever violated you like this. They hadn’t ever laid a finger on you against your will.

“You don’t love me,” you said calmly.

He raised an eyebrow, still slamming his hips into you.

“Your mind games won’t work on me, Y/N,” he replied, heavily panting. “You’re not going anywhere.” He licked the sweat on the corners of his mouth. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

With each thrust, your love for him withered and crumbled even more. A deep sense of regret washed over you for ever loving him. He didn’t understand love. He didn’t respect you. You had to get out of his grasp as quickly as you could. Would he take you somewhere and hold you hostage? Would he lock you up in a room and never let you see the light of day?

His thighs began shaking, and his thrusts became sloppy.

“Look here,” he grunted, teetering dangerously close to his release. “Fucking take my cum.”

He closed his eyes, his dick pulsing and throbbing inside you with the force of his orgasm. His grip on your body momentarily slipped, and you seized the chance.

Gathering all your strength, you punched him square in the balls, causing him to hiss in pain and topple over you. Even before he could react, you hit him in the ribs and pushed his body off, hauling your lower body out from under him.

His hand desperately snatched at your legs, but you kicked him and slithered away. He screamed out and clutched at your ankle, not letting go.

“Get off!” You screamed, reaching for the jeans bunched around your thighs.

The anger was bubbling in his face.

“No!” he shouted, trying to pull you by the ankle.

You swung your free leg at him, sending a hook kick that caught him under the chin with a sickening thud.

Without looking back, you scrambled up and unlocked the door, pulling your jeans up and running as fast as you could.

─── ·❆· ───

“Hot chocolate?”

You took the cup from Taehyung’s hand and nestled closer to Jin. Your boyfriend had bundled you up in blankets and seated you on his lap. Hoseok was sitting next to Jin, massaging, and rubbing your feet.

Namjoon and Jimin were sitting cross-legged on the rug, their mugs of hot chocolate forgotten. Yoongi was looking at the sheets of rain outside the window.

Everyone was eerily silent. To be fair, all of you had been shattered when Jungkook left. Over the weeks, a faint sense of normalcy had returned to the household. Until Jungkook cruelly wiped everything away again.

Jin had gone all kinds of crazy when you had run into his arms, your hair disheveled and tears streaming down your face. He had been unable to get a word out of you. He had examined the bite marks and welts with murderous rage, his blood boiling at the sight.

He had maintained his silence when you stayed in the shower for hours on end, curled into a ball on the bathroom floor. He had ground his teeth, bursting at the seams trying to hold his temper. He had soaped your battered body, his heart breaking at the way you tried to stifle your broken sobs.

When you had finally acquiesced to go out of the bathroom, he had carried you outside and dressed you gently. He had then bundled you up in the softest blankets as if they could protect and comfort you.

He had bent to kiss your cheek when you uttered it. Just one word.

“Jungkook.”

You had seen his jaw flexing dangerously. Bunching his shirt in your fingers, you had pulled him closer. Slowly the rest of your boyfriends had returned home. They had all seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere. Somehow, they had realized that something was wrong.

You hadn’t said a word when Jin displayed the welts on your wrists for them to see. He had told them about the scratches and nail marks all over your thighs, and you listened numbly. It had felt like he was talking about someone else.

The sound of someone’s phone brought you back to the present. The notification sound chimed again, and again. Suddenly, all the phones in the room started chiming incessantly, cutting through the heavy silence in the room.

“What the hell,” Yoongi said, reaching for his phone. “The fuck’s happening?”

All of you stared at Yoongi, the notification sounds still going off in the background.

“What the fuck!” he shouted, furiously swiping at his phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Taehyung went to his side, alarmed at the panic in his voice.

“Hyung?”

“FanLive,” Yoongi blurted out, holding his phone up towards all of you. “Jungkook is on FanLive.”

“What?” Namjoon asked mildly, hopping to his feet and peering into Yoongi’s screen. “What about it?”

Yoongi hit the speaker button, setting the volume to Maximum.

“… I was so nervous,” Jungkook’s syrupy voice rang out from the phone, and your ears perked up. “…but I am so happy that I shared this with you. I love all our fans. I really hope you will make her feel safe and welcome.”

Jin slid his buzzing phone out of his pocket, and a news notification flashed on his screen. You looked at it dumbfounded, not trusting your eyes.

‘BBS BAND MEMBER REVEALS GIRLFRIEND!’

Jungkook’s voice was still pouring out of Yoongi’s phone.

“I love this person so much; she makes me really happy.” You could almost hear his bunny smile. You felt sick.

“… We talked a lot and decided it’s time to share our secret. So, yeah… my girlfriend’s name is…” he paused, and all your muscles tensed, “…Y/N.”

You blinked. The constant ringing of phones in the room grated on your nerves. Jin’s knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the sides of his phone. He was seething, the anger growing inside him like an inferno.

“That. piece. of. Shit,” Jin spat out, his body trembling in rage. “I’m going to…”

Jungkook’s rabbity voice piped up again, he was probably showing something to the camera.

“…this is a picture of us…”

You pounced on Yoongi, grabbing the phone.

“Give me that, Yoongi.”

Jungkook was grinning in a successful attempt at cuteness. A turtleneck sweater was hiding the bruises on his neck that your kick had caused. You knew he had probably used heavy concealers to mask the injuries from the struggle.

He was holding his phone up to the camera, and you saw the picture he was showing. It was a selfie Jungkook had taken with you several months ago. You were both smiling at the camera, leaning against each other cozily.

“… this is my favorite picture, Y/N looks so cute…”

Jungkook droned on about how much he adored you and how lucky he was. He even had the nerve to say how happy his band members were for him. You didn’t bat an eyelid, drinking in all the blatant lies he spewed on live camera.

“…that’s the reason for this surprise live stream. Thank you for your love, please accept Y/N too…”

He kept repeating your name as much as he could, as if he wanted to punch your name into every viewer’s brain. That you were his. And his alone.

The live stream ended, and Yoongi flung his phone down in disgust.

“Sick, pathetic leech…” he began, slamming the coffee table. “I am going to strangle him.”

He rose to his feet, but Jimin gripped his wrist tightly.

“No, hyung. Not now.”

“He violated Y/N!” Yoongi screamed out, and Jin flinched. “And now this? I want him dead!”

“Yoongi-yah,” Jin’s firm voice stopped Yoongi’s angry tirade. “Yoongi-yah, we’re all furious. I get it. But we should take a minute to think what to do.”

The younger man glanced at you, and you nodded.

“He has branded me to the world as his girlfriend. You will tarnish yourself if you go beat him up. And that’s not intelligent.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement.

“I want to wrap my fingers around his throat and feel his life leave his body though,” Namjoon said, an unusual murderous look glinting in his eyes.

The buzzing of your phone briefly broke your attention, and you glanced at the screen. It was Hae Jung, one of the BBS stylists. The texts were already flooding your screen. The latest ones popped up in the notification shade.

Hae Jung: Get out of the apartment quick!

Hae Jung: You can’t be seen with the rest of them!

Hae Jung: Y/N!! Answer my calls just once!

“Uh, Jinnie?” You tugged at his sleeve, pulling him gently.

He was simmering in a cold rage, and his gaze was sharp like knives when he snapped out a “What?”

You had a temper of your own and you found it kindling. Taking a deep breath, you displayed your phone for him to see.

“Hae Jung says I should leave the apartment at once. I can’t be seen with any of you. She’s got a point.”

Jin’s wide shoulders broadened as he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Taehyung’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and he said,

“She’s right, hyung. Y/N has to leave.” He composed himself to mask the little break in his voice. “Just for now.”

Namjoon, whose brain processed things 10x quicker, gripped your hand, alarmed.

“I’d be damned if we sent Y/N straight to Jungkook’s apartment.” He gritted his teeth, “Especially after what he just did to her.”

His eyes involuntarily swept over the bruises on your neck.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said, folding his arms. “We’ll keep her safe at a hotel.”

Jimin’s fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s send a few of our bodyguard hyungs to keep her company.”

Hoseok, who had been talking to one of the managers, cut the call and flipped his phone closed.

“It’s already a nightmare on Twitter. We need to secure Y/N as fast as humanly possible. All the tabloids will be raining upon us like vultures soon.”

Namjoon’s leader instincts kicked into action, and before long they were smuggling you into one of their getaway cars.

“Here,” Jimin said, slipped out of his coat and draping it on your head. “Stay low, baby.”

Hoseok slid next to you, and just before he could slam the door shut, Jin’s veiny hand slithered into the crack.

He caught hold of your wrist and gripped hard, as if transferring all his strength over to you. No words were exchanged, but the weight of unspoken words was evident in his grip. You nodded silently, and he let go.

Without losing another second, Hoseok slammed the door and the car raced into the traffic, headed straight to a hotel.

─── ·❆· ───

#WEAREHAPPYFORYOU

#BBSGIRLFRIEND

#WELOVEYOUJK

#CONGRATULATIONS_OUR_JK

The bird app was full of Twitter trends talking about Jungkook’s bombshell. Hoseok’s phone kept buzzing every few seconds from all the posts and hashtags tagging his band’s shared Twitter handle.

He had removed your SIM card and broken it, handing you a new one instead. He had also signed you out of all your social media accounts. You had been essentially cut off from any media that would give your identity away.

“Baby, I’ve ordered room service,” Hoseok said, drawing the blinds closed. He did a routine sweep of the suite, checking for hidden cameras out of habit.

“Do you want anything, Y/N?” he asked, kneeling on the floor, and peering under the bed.

“I just want you to hold me,” you said, hugging your knees and gazing at his bent form.

He looked up, those soft brown eyes emanating so much warmth. Without a word, he dragged himself up and crawled into bed, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

His nose was warm against the side of your neck, and you inhaled deep breaths of his comforting presence. Hoseok had the innate ability to bring cheer wherever he went, and it was probably why your boyfriends had sent him to keep you company.

“Y/N,” he said, drawing the words out. “Don’t… please don’t resent us for this,” he said, and your heart broke.

“No, no, Hobi-” you said, turning slightly to look into his glistening eyes. “-I never will.” Taking his hand, put it against your cheek. “I’d never resent falling in love with all of you.”

He nodded and smiled happily, his fears crumbling to dust.

“Just- don’t let Jungkook ruin what we have,” he whispered, and you hummed in agreement. You had not for one moment regretted being with them. Jin had opened the doors wide open to so much love, much more than you had ever imagined.

─── ·❆· ───

It had been four days since you went into hiding. Your boyfriends took turns to sneak visits, it was a mystery how they managed to achieve that feat without getting caught by paparazzi. To be fair, the hotel you were sheltered in catered to celebrities all the time, and the staff were very discreet.

Your stomach rumbled, and you scratched your tummy. Whether it was due to your impending periods, you didn’t know, but you craved ramen. Especially the kind with tteokbokki – that was your favorite. Did you dare go down to the nearest convenience store and eat some?

Throwing Jin’s hoodie on, you let your hair loose under Taehyung’s beanie. Hoseok’s baggy pants were your favorite, they were oh so comfortable. Your sunglasses took a while to find, they were buried at the bottom of the drawer.

Looking at the mirror, you were satisfied with your camouflage and decided to step out. The walk to the convenience store took longer than you had expected. There wasn’t one in sight for a few blocks. It felt good to stretch your legs after so many days. But by the time you entered a store, you were already wondering if it was a good call.

The store was quiet. A bit too quiet for your liking. You’d have much preferred a crowded and noisy ambiance, it would have made you far less noticeable. The heavy oily smell of sizzling fritters wafted to your nostrils, interspersed with the earthy aroma of ground coffee beans.

There were a few girls around the ramen aisle, and you tried hard to be inconspicuous while scanning the rows for your favorite robokki brand. All went well, and you managed to get the packet scanned and billed.

You were waiting in line to use the hot water dispenser, wishing you’d stayed put in the hotel room. The girl standing before you turned with her cup of hot noodles, catching you smack in the eyes. The sunglasses flew off your face, and the hot liquid from her noodles splashed across your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she shrieked, setting the noodles down in an attempt to help you.

“No, I- it’s okay,” you muttered, deciding to get the hell out of there. In your haste, you bumped into a few more people standing in line behind you.

“Hey,” a girl shouted, picking up your sunglasses from the floor. “You left this…”

You shook your head and tried to dart out of there, but she was quicker. She body-blocked you, extending her arm towards you. You mumbled a quick “Thanks” and tried to move, but she persisted.

“I’ve seen you…”  Suddenly, recognition dawned on her face. “You’re Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend.”

“Er, no,” you said, kicking yourself for ever leaving the hotel.

“Ji Hee! Soo Yeon!” she shrieked, beside herself in excitement. “Come here quick!”

The girls you had seen in the line circled on you, wondering what the commotion was about.

“It’s her! It’s Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend!”

They advanced on you slowly, peering into your shocked face.

“You?” one girl snickered in a mocking tone. “What makes you so special?”

By that time, you were trapped amid four girls, and no one else seemed to care about the bevy of girls in the ramen section.

Another girl took a section of your hair and flicked it in disdain, clicking her tongue.

“Just what did oppa see in you?”

The third one egged her friend on saying, “Good that you threw ramen over her, Min Ji!”

“Empty the rest on her too!”

You started to back away, but the girl behind you pushed you, sending you tumbling forward.

“Let me g-“

The girl had thrown the rest of her noodles on you before you even finished your sentence. Instinctively, your eyes closed for a split second, and you felt your hair being pulled. A weak slap managed to jerk your face sideways before the owner yelled out loudly.

“Hey, no fighting. Take it outside!”

One arm grabbed your hoodie, and another pulled you out by the hair. The one called Soo Yeon threw your sunglasses on the pavement and stepped on it, crushing the glass to bits.

Passersby began to stare, and you had no choice but to make a run for it. You were stronger than your assailants, partly because Jungkook had been your gym partner, and all those arm days came to your rescue.

It was no use to try and keep a low profile now that you were out on the road. Pushing one girl away, you landed a karate chop on the arm pulling your hair. The owner of the arm yelped in pain, and you barreled towards the third one, butting her torso with your head and sending her tumbling down.

You ran like the wind, not once looking back. You hoped fervently that no passerby had recorded the whole tussle on their phone. God, you’d ruin your boyfriends if the little spectacle ever went viral.

Dripping in ramen and terribly out of breath, you made it to the hotel’s private entrance. A car was pulling up, and a startled voice called out your name just as you pressed the elevator button.

“Y/N?”

Jimin bounded out of the car, startled at seeing your disheveled appearance.

“What the hell happened?”

─── ·❆· ───

“But why did you call this urgent meeting, Namjoonah?” the band’s executive PD asked, rolling the paperweight on the table. The conference room in the BBS building was where the group’s most iconic song lyrics were birthed. It had been a room that had witnessed loud arguments about line distribution, heartbreaks over missed awards, and collective joy over record breaks.

“Let the others arrive,” Namjoon replied, his jaw set in determination.

Jin came in soon, followed by a steady trickle of the rest of the band. All except Jungkook of course.

“The fuck is he?” Namjoon bit out, impatiently glancing at the digital clock.

“We’ll get down to business anyway, good that’s he’s not here now,” Jin said, putting an arm over Taehyung’s lap to stop him from fidgeting.

“Well then,” the PD said, dragging a notepad towards him. “What is the purpose of this meeting?”

Everyone looked at Namjoon in unison, expecting him to spell it out for them.

“We all want to terminate our contracts with the agency,” he began, causing the PD to inhale sharply and lean forward urgently.

“What?”

“… effective immediately,” Namjoon said, his mouth set in a straight line.

“But why? Have we failed you in any way? You can tell me your grievances! I can try and resolve…”

Yoongi’s slow drawling voice eclipsed his boss’s.

“We are willing to reconsider if…”

The PD’s eyes widened in urgency. “If?”

“If you terminate Jungkook’s contract instead.”

Right on cue, the door opened and Jungkook walked in, an air of lazy arrogance stamped all over him.

He slipped into a seat, swiveling on his chair from left to right just to spite the men who were glaring at him.

“Don’t own a watch?” Jin asked scathingly, earning just a cool raise of eyebrows in response.

The PD was still speechless from the earlier discussion, so he didn’t participate in the bickering over Jungkook’s lack of punctuality. The babble of voices grew louder and louder around him.

“I don’t care for your disapproval,” Jungkook was shouting, slapping his fist on the table, when the boss shook himself into action.

“Stop!” he yelled, his voice cutting through the cacophony.

He glared at the youngest member, effectively silencing him.

“Now, what the hell is this actually about?” He turned to Jin. “You! Eldest! Speak.”

Jin looked at Namjoon, who nodded encouragingly. He cleared his throat, unsure how to start.

“Well, you know about our girlfriend…”

The boss sighed. Of course, this was about you. He had been privy to the unusual relationship between you and his artists. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this rift to occur sometime or the other. He had had years of experience working with hormonal youngsters to expect otherwise.

“Personal conflicts cannot influence your contracts,” he said, eyeing Jin sternly.

“Yeah, tell him,” Jungkook drawled haughtily.

“And you, shut your face,” the boss spat out, furious that his multimillion-dollar band was fraying at the edges because of girl problems.

“Personal?” Taehyung asked incredulously. “Of course it’s personal! Our girlfriend got assaulted and harassed because of him!”

“Correction. My girlfriend,” Jungkook said, staring at Jin’s throbbing neck veins. “She’d have been safe with me if she hadn’t been kidnapped and left uncared for.”

“The nerve,” Hoseok shouted, getting to his feet angrily.

Jimin pulled him back to his seat, hissing sharply.

“Sit down, hyung. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Jungkook leaned forward, his black eyes glowering at Jin.

“I want to know where you’ve hidden her.”

“You’ve caused her enough harm,” Yoongi snapped. “You were the one who violated her privacy. You showed her to the world. You are the reason she got assaulted. You jeopardized her safety.”

Jungkook pursed his lips in stony mutiny. He had no witty response to Yoongi’s allegations.

“Well, PDnim, we want Jungkook’s contract terminated immediately. We refuse to work with him,” Jimin said, getting back on track.

“If you terminate me,” Jungkook said, leaning on his chair and rocking himself gently, “I’ll sue you. Every one of you. I’ll sue the agency till there isn’t a penny left.”

─── ·❆· ───

You knew it hadn’t gone well as soon as you saw the disgruntled looks on your boyfriends’ faces. They had all come to your hotel room with sulky faces.

“Babe?” you asked, holding the coat as Hoseok shrugged himself out of it.

“No go, Y/N,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “PDnim can’t terminate him. And he threatened to sue the agency too.”

There had been only a slim chance of it ever working out, so it wasn’t a big blow. But it did sting your boyfriends to even think of working with Jungkook ever again.

Jin pulled you snug against his body, sighing heavily.

“We’ll figure something out,” you said, squeezing his big arms that were wound around your torso.

“Hmm,” he mumbled half-heartedly. “We got you some lamb skewers,” he said, burying his face into your neck.

“Oh damn it, I sat on it!” Namjoon whined, guiltily eyeing the now squished package he dug out of his coat.

Everyone giggled, a sudden ease settling amid everyone in the house. It felt just like old times. Well, at least partially.

“Fuck you, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said, pulling the package from his clumsy brother. “Now I need to operate on this and save it.”

Another wave of giggles. Somehow it felt like you would all survive the situation and turn out okay.

“Mmm, kiss me,” Taehyung said, sandwiching you between Jin and himself. “I love it when you laugh.”

He dipped his head, cupping your cheeks fondly. Jin pressed himself against your back, his hands moving up to cup your breasts.

“Yah, get a room!” Hoseok snickered, slapping Taehyung’s butt playfully.

You smirked in response, pulling Taehyung’s boxy lips towards your mouth, and leaving teasing licks on the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, don’t tease,” he complained, his outrageously deep voice sending shivers up your spine. Jin’s hands squeezed your breasts through your shirt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Jin was a sucker for your tits, he loved playing with them. They were his drug of choice.

His bulge poked your back, and he slowly moved backward, taking care not to disturb Taehyung’s kissing. The others barely paid attention, they were lounging about, talking, or scrolling through their phones.

Jin was halfway through a doorway when Jimin’s surprised yell stilled him.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, furiously swiping on his phone.

Taehyung was just as startled, and you peeked around his head to see what bothered Jimin so much.

“What is it?” you began to ask, just as the others started to crane their heads over Jimin’s phone.

No one responded, so you pulled yourself out of the Jin-Tae sandwich and went to investigate. Pushing Hoseok’s head to the side, you stared at Jimin’s screen. And your jaw dropped to the floor.

‘BREAKING NEWS: BBS Band member’s girlfriend cheats on him with ANOTHER member!

Tap to see SHOCKING pictures!’

─── ·❆· ───

[dogbearinggifts]

What are your thoughts on tua S2? Did you feel like the characters grew? What did you like? What did you not? I’m interested in your perspective. Your analysis are super thoughtful and interesting!

Aw, thanks, Anon!

Overall, I really enjoyed S2 and thought it was a solid follow-up to S1. I do have my quibbles about it, so I think (for ease of reference and because my thoughts are a little scattered today) I’ll list some of my personal highlights (in no particular order) before getting into what I didn’t like as much.

Big spoilers ahead.

Allison. I thought they handled her storyline especially well. Of all the siblings, I think she had the most difficult obstacles placed in her way (not only is she a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas, but she’s a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas who can’t even speak in her own defense for a year) and they sugarcoated exactly none of it. The writers pulled no punches when showing what civil rights protesters went through, which just made their nonviolent response all the more breathtaking. Allison’s fear and anger during those scenes were palpable even as she kept them hidden. But along with that horror, we see the kindness and warmth of the Dallas Black community, the women who take her in simply because she needs their help, and her love for Ray, perhaps heretofore THE most thoughtful husband ever portrayed on screen. I loved him, and I loved him and Allison together. While I understand and respect his choice to stay in 1963, I wish they’d gotten more time together. They both deserved it.

Vanya. We got to see how much the baggage from her past affected her by glimpsing what she might be like if it were taken away. It’s an interesting philosophical question, and it was explored well, in my opinion. She finds it easier to love and be loved, and she stands up for herself more readily—but she also doesn’t hesitate to use powers she can’t quite control and threatens Five without fully realizing how dire her threat is (or how it might dredge up traumatic memories she doesn’t know exist). The moment where Ben finds her curled up, fully convinced she’s a monster, was heartbreaking. I loved watching her find happiness with Sissy, even if that was fleeting (and dear god, Sissy deserved her happy ending with Vanya, dammit, I don’t care if it would fuck up the timeline). Her patience and sweetness with Harlan were just beautiful. And the way she used the confidence she gained during her amnesia to fully come into her own not to exact revenge on her siblings, but to save them, was fucking phenomenal.

The humor. There was a lot more humor this season, and it was awesome. So many iconic scenes—Olga Foroga, Luther babysitting two homicidal Fives, Elliot awkwardly lecturing his guests on the history of Jello, “NEW TIMELINE NEW ME,” “Your vagina needs glasses,” AJ the fish gobbling up the cigarette bubbles, Five getting to say “fuck”….this season was a lot funnier than the previous one, and I think that was one of its strengths.

Klaus’ cult. It was played for laughs, which I both expected and thought was the best way to handle it. He didn’t want to start a new religion with himself at the center; he just wanted to not get thrown out of any more diners, but Destiny’s Children had other ideas. The “I too am a fraud!” scene was hilarious and tickled the question of whether or not a religion founded on false pretenses can still help those within it find meaning.

Luther. Getting him away from his dad, his siblings, and the Academy was exactly what he needed to become the pure of heart and dumb of ass genius we always knew he was, but his first major step in that direction was heartbreaking. We all knew he’d be rejected once he got to the Academy. We all knew Reginald would rip his heart out and stomp on it in his admittedly fashionable shoes. It gets Luther out on his own and forces him to become his own person apart from his dad, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He got the positive character development he needed, but the catalyst was tragic.

Diego. We see, for the first time, exactly how Reginald kept him in line—not with meds or with PTSD-inducing torture, but with words. Even when he knows Diego as little more than a stranger, Reginald is able to rip off his skin and fling it in his face with a single diatribe; and even at 30, with years away from his dad, Diego is left unable to speak, feeling as if all of his accomplishments up to that point were the work of a dumb kid who thought he was smarter and more capable than he actually was.

Luther and Diego sharing a braincell. Luther has bad ideas. Diego has bad ideas. When they put their bad ideas together, they get terrible ideas. I loved watching them work together as a team, rather than being at each others’ throats for most of the season, even if I’m left hoping Olga Foroga had a pleasant and quiet day after that phone call.

Reginald. At first glance, it may look like the writers were trying to make him likable so they could parade him around as your average abusive-parent-with-a-soft-side. But it’s more nuanced than that. Abusive parents (and abusers in general) often fly under the radar because they fool outsiders into thinking they’re good people. They’re active in their communities. They give to charity. They have friends who attest to their virtue, significant others who think they’re the greatest. And that’s what we see with Reginald. We see him as the rest of the world did: an intelligent, eccentric man with a sharp sense of humor who cared deeply about scientific advancement. That’s how he evaded suspicion—because there were stories from years past of lively parties at his mansion, of what a gentleman he was to Grace and of how he did everything he could to save little Pogo. But those stories would all have come from people he considered his equals. When he’s with people he considers his inferiors—aka, the Umbrella kids—he’s openly condescending and demeaning. We get to see how he fooled the world, and it is chilling.

Elliot. He deserved better, and you can ship him with any one of the Hargreeves kids and get the cutest thing ever. 

The Swedes. They said so much while speaking very little.

Ben. He got more personality and screen time, and it was glorious. His love of his family and resentment toward Klaus practically leapt off the screen. The way he says “I’ve missed you all…so much” once they’ve all left was one of those right-in-the-feels moments; and watching him get so much of what he’s wanted for years when he possesses Klaus was beautiful.

Now, as for things I took issue with….

Ben. I understand why they ended his arc the way they did. I get that they were probably afraid the Klaus/Ben dynamic would grow stale if they didn’t change it somehow and wanted to give him a larger role in S3. His death(???) was heartbreaking and extremely well-done. But it also wasn’t foreshadowed. We never got any sense of what ghosts in the TUA ‘verse are, so the fact they can be destroyed by a ton of sound-turned-energy or by going too far into someone’s psyche or whatever happened….it’s not that it doesn’t make sense so much as there’s not enough evidence to determine whether or not it makes sense. It feels like the writers just kinda made that up so they’d have a reason to change Ben’s relationship dynamics, but if that’s the case, couldn’t they have done it another way? Couldn’t they have made it so the immense energy or psychic woo-woo or whatever gave him a power-up instead of destroying him? Vanya transferred some of her energy into Harlan and brought him back to life. Couldn’t something similar have happened with Ben? And if it tied him to Vanya as well as to Klaus, great! More fodder for angst and humor! (”Vannyyyyyyyy, stop hogging Ben!” “You got him for 17 years, Klaus, you can part with him for 20 minutes.” “Guys, don’t I get a say in this?”) I’m glad they didn’t write him out of the series entirely, but I still wish they’d kept him and all the character development he’d gotten throughout S2.

Episode 10. It looks like they tried to cram half a season’s worth of developments into 45 minutes. Twenty minutes in, I’d already said “Wait what the fuck” half a dozen times. A lot of those moments were explained later on, and I was able to make enough inferences to fill in any lingering plot holes, but…still. Too much stuff, too little time. E9 was a perfectly satisfying ending to the season. Yes, it leaves the siblings stranded in 1963, but they could’ve tied up those loose ends in the S3 premiere.

Lila. She’s an incredibly fun character, but her arc is kind of a mess. Most of that is due to E10, and I do feel that more time to let her arc breathe would’ve worked wonders, but I’m left feeling like her turn from “Handler is the best mom ever and I lurve Diego too” to “KILL DIEGO AND HIS EVIL FAMILY” to “Handler is a bad mom and Diego is right” happened too quickly.

The Commission. Okay, so, the Handler announces the entire Board has been killed, and she’s stepping in as director even though everyone appears to know she’s been demoted (and demoted pretty severely—she went from having an office bigger than some apartments to being a case management drone). There’s suspicion and lots of it. But then, La Resistance is….ten or so people in a single room? And when she calls the temps agents to her side, thousands of them show up ready and willing to fight and die? I dunno. Just seems like there should’ve been more splintering going on there. Again, I think they needed more time to tie everything up.

Aside from those complaints, I loved the season. I set aside most of a day to binge it, and I do not regret that decision at all.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD Official Visual Fanbook Short Story: Sakamaki Subaru VS Mukami Yuma

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Official Visual Fanbook

Release date: 2013

Disclaimer: Both sides portray the same story, but from a different perspective. The first story is written from Subaru’s POV, while the second portrays the events from Yuma’s POV.

SUBARU’S SIDE

ーー Get your damn hands off her! Despite said thought crossing my mind, I continue to lose myself in her blood.

“Oi, you...Who gave you permission to make those sounds? ...Just pretend that guy isn’t there...and come closer!”

I feel ashamed of the panicky undertone of my voice. That being said, I’m rather on edge right now. Because I never even imagined myself here in this situation...sharing her with that guy.

“Hehehe...Ya seem pretty heated...Well, I knew that tho...Come on, Sow! Don’t be takin’ orders from Mr. Rich Kid over there!”

That guy...Yuma forcefully tugs her over to his side before pinning her against nearby tree. 

“Fuck...You bastard...!”

“Ya spoilt brats don’t know what it’s like to have to fight for yer own life, do ya?  Bein’ someone who grew up with the bare minimum, ya see...I gotta gobble up a feast as soon as I lay my eyes on it...Nn!”

He thrusts his fangs inside her neck.

I lose my temper and immediately lunge at Yuma, swinging my fist his way.

Along with a dull ‘thud’, Yuma takes most of the blow and collapses.

“Che...Now come here you!!”

“Think again!”

The moment I tried to duck down while holding her in his arms, both of us were tackled to the ground.

“Kuh...The fuck...!?”

As I glare while holding her protectively in my arms, Yuma does the unthinkable and lowers himself on top of both of us.

“Gotcha~ Geez...Don’t be makin’ me go through this troublesome shit.”

While cracking his neck, he once again burrows his face in her nape.

“Shit! Fuck off, you jerk!”

“Hehe...Hah...Nn...If you’re frustrated, then why don’t ya have a sip as well?”

I feel as if I’m about the snap from the way he mocks me with his words. But at the same time, I can see the expression on her face change. 

I grow even more irritated, realizing she is unable to resist the pain and pleasure given to her at present.

“Oi, don’t ya dare enjoy it..You should only ever feel good from my fangs, remember!?”

I whisper those words to remind her, but she simply trembles in response, unable to voice a proper response right now.

“Damnit...!”

In an attempt to get her as far away from Yuma as I can, I tug her closer, wrapping my own arms around her.

“Woah!?”

“Let go!”

I turn my own body, trying to keep her locked inside my arms.

“Honestly...I can’t forgive you for makin’ that sorta face...”

While groaning those words, I capture her lips.

And then I delve my tongue deep inside, trying to get her full attention.

“You should only ever...look at me.”

I then latch onto her throat.

I’ll give her an even greater pain and pleasure than Yuma did.

Her hot blood gushes inside my mouth...While gulping it down, I glare at Yuma.

He glances our way while chuckling.

That attitude as if he is watching an entertaining show pisses me off.

‘I’ll definitely keep you safe, ‘kay?’

Those are the words I softly whispered to her.

ーー The End.

YUMA’S SIDE

ーー I honestly don’t get what love or affection is about.

However, watching this guy’s behavior around her, I was enlightened. He’s head over heels for the Sow.

He might be trying to hide it himself, but it’s honestly clear as day.

I wonder what would happen if I were to devour her in front of him?

That disgusting thought flashed through the back of my mind.

“Oi, you...Who gave you permission to make those sounds? ...Just pretend that guy isn’t there...and come closer!”

When I try to overpower her and force her my way, Subaru is having none of that, reaching out for her while growing agitated. 

I grow annoyed as well, increasing my strength just a little before pinning her against the nearby tree.

“Hehehe...Ya seem pretty heated...Well, I knew that tho...Come on, Sow! Don’t be takin’ orders from Mr. Rich Kid over there!”

I grasp her chin, shaking her head in an attempt to remind her.

She lets out a pained cry and squints her eyes.

“Fuck...You bastard...!”

Subaru swings his fist my way, but I block it with one hand.

“Ya spoilt brats don’t know what it’s like to have to fight for yer own life, do ya?  Bein’ someone who grew up with the bare minimum, ya see...I gotta gobble up a feast as soon as I lay my eyes on it...Nn!”

Then, I latch onto her nape.

I groan loudly on purpose, wanting to show off. 

When I do, I once again sense a fist coming my way.

“Guh...”

A dull ‘thud’ echoes inside my head, before I fall to the ground.

Subaru uses this opportunity to swoop her inside his arms.

He probably intends to leap up into the air with her, but I won’t let him.

“Think again!”

When I pull onto Subaru’s leg while lying on the ground, both of them topple over.

“Kuh...The fuck...!?”

Without even attempting to hide his rage, Subaru keeps her safely in his arms regardless as he glares at me.

I decided to move on top of them as they laid there on the ground.

At this point, I just really wanted to get in this way and make an utter and absolute fool out of him.

“Gotcha~ Geez...Don’t be makin’ me go through this troublesome shit.”

I use a playful tone on purpose, before pulling her close.

Despite her resistance, she gives in to my grasp right away.

In this hopeless situation, I almost found her to be pitiful, like a butterfly which got caught in the spider’s web.

“Nnー”

Completely unbothered by it, I continue to suck her blood.

While she may not be able to escape, I’m sure she doesn’t feel sad when her knight in shining armor is right there by her side.

“Shit! Fuck off, you jerk!”

“Hehe...Hah...Nn...If you’re frustrated, then why don’t ya have a sip as well?”

As I speak those words while dodging Subaru’s onslaught of incoming punches, her face scrunches up in agony and she succumbs to the pain.

She is probably seeking help from Subaru. However, I won’t let that happen.

“Oi, don’t ya dare enjoy it..You should only ever feel good from my fangs, remember!?”

I remember once being this foolishly desperate for someone as well. That’s a story from long, long ago though. While I linger on those memories of a distant past, Subaru tugs the woman his way, drawing her in.

“Let go!”

He traps her inside his own arms.

“Honestly...I can’t forgive you for makin’ that sorta face...”

And then he locks lips with her, trying to make her snap back to reality.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation.

Is that what it is like to want someone all for yourself?

Is that chick’s blood really worth going that far?

However, I can’t forgive him for wanting even more when he was already born gifted.

I laugh softly at myself, before burying my fangs even deeper inside her nape.

ーー The End.

[flora-jimin]

𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 (𝑹𝒂𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

AO3 Link

Relationships: Namjoon x Hoseok x Yoongi x Reader

Genre(s): Smut, PWP

Written for @btspolyshipbingo

Square Filled: Bed Sharing

Rating: 18+

Tags: Smut, Pwp, Previous poly triad (rapline), Endgame poly relationship (mmmf), Dirty Talk, Cum Sharing, Spanking, 69, Oral

Summary: You’re invited to spend the last week with Bangtan before vacation is over. Of course, a certian someone didn’t get the house with enough rooms, and now it seems you’ll have to share. Sharing is caring, after all. 

Word count: 8.1k Im so sorry

A/n: This is my first ‘y/n’ fic and of course its long as hell omg.

Tag List: @jungkook-me-down, @jinie, @mapofmarisoul, @vallkyr, @canyoucallthiswriting, @hobisbapsae

-x-

“Wait, you invited Y/n over to stay with us and didn’t even make sure there were enough rooms?” Jin inquired, brows furrowed as he watched Namjoon run a hand through his hair. You were seated between Yoongi and Hoseok while the other band members spoke, brows furrowed. 

The vacation for Bangtan was winding down to a close and the boys had all decided to go out together with you before they were back to their hectic lives. The trip to Jeju Island was last minute and impromptu, hence why they could only snag a vacation home with a few rooms too less than they needed. 

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m just happy to be here. We can always just blind pick the rooms like you all did for the Run that one time.” You offered, blinking when a collective lightbulb went off over their heads. 

“Did…did none of you think of that?” You slowly questioned, snickering at the way some of them flushed. You nod in approval, catching Namjoon’s eye as the other boys scurried around, positioning themselves in a circle. 

The dimpled rapper had been your boyfriend for a few months now, and if the blind pick went well, you’d be sharing a room with him alone for the next week. 

“Okay. So, there are eight of us. There are three rooms. If you choose a room, you have to honor however many people pick the room to share afterwards, got it? Once you’re done, write the position of the room on your palm with a marker.” Jimin ran the rules by everyone, bouncing excitedly. You and the others nod, and Jungkook motions for you to go first. 

“M-Me?” 

“Ladie’s first, Y/n. Choose well!” He beamed. You nodded and sent a small look over your shoulder at Namjoon before disappearing down the hall once the others turned their backs so they couldn’t see which direction you turned in. 

The first room was on the smaller side, with windows facing towards the ocean. You wandered in, slightly in awe as you took in the view. There was a TV set up that took up most of the wall space and though you’d love the ocean view, you figured Namjoon would pick a room with more space for him to set up his laptop or work. 

Turning, you moved to the next room, immediately taken by the scent of flowers. This room was definitely the master bedroom of sorts, with the bed being larger and facing the mountain side of the house. You could see it had a good view of the garden in the backyard and without hesitation you knew this would be the one. 

Without needing to see the third room, you hastily wrote ‘middle room’ on your palm before heading back to the living room. You plopped down on the couch, hugging the Mang plushie Hoseok had left behind on the couch as he stood to pick his room. 

One by one, everyone chose their desired rooms. 

“Okay. On the count of three, everyone open their palms, okay?” Tae instructed, clearly excited. You and the others nodded. 

“One, two, three!” 

In union, all of you threw your hands out, opening your palms facing upwards. 

“Hey! We got the same room!” Jungkook cheered, throwing his arms over Jimin and Taehyung. It seemed like the three chose the room facing the ocean, bounding eagerly down the hall after they scrambled to grab their bags from the living room. 

“I brought my PS4!” Jungkook cheered, all but sliding into the room with the other two in tow. 

Jin looked down at his hand, grinning wildly when he found he had a room all to himself. 

“Handsome and lucky~” He whistled, blowing the remaining four a kiss before he strolled down the hall. 

You blinked slowly, looking at the hands around you to find that Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all written down ‘middle room’ on your palms. 

“Well that happened.” Hoseok exhaled, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out of his chest. Namjoon gently rubbed your back as he stood beside you. 

“It may be a tight squeeze, but we’ll make do.” He offered a little bit of positivity as you moved to grab your suitcase. Yoongi and Hoseok nodded, walking ahead as Namjoon gently took your bag. You pouted, tugging on his sleeve. 

“Joon-”

“It’s okay, Y/n. Yoongs and Hobi already know about us, we can relax.” He whispered. You blinked in surprise, lips parting. 

“You told them?”

“Had a late night session with them in Rkive and I mentioned missing my girlfriend.” He admitted, laughing gently as he started carrying both of your luggage. You watched his back for a few moments, feeling your heart flutter for a moment before you hid a smile, shuffling after him. 

In the room, Hoseok was sitting by the window, his leg pulled in close to his chest as he stared out at the sunset. You perk, darting past Yoongi and Namjoon to admire the way the sky and the clouds were bathed in a stunning mixture of oranges and pinks.

“Woah…the sky is so pretty.” You muse, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

Hoseok watched the side of your face out of the corner of his eye before he hummed in agreement, muttering a quiet ‘she sure is’ under his breath undetected. 

-Later-

“Don’t eat so fast, you’re going to get sick!” You scolded as you watched Jungkook and Jin shovel food down their mouths. Yoongi’s lip curled slightly at the sight, moving his plate away when Jin nearly toppled over the sauce bottle reaching for more meat from the pot simmering between the group. 

“She’s right. You’re going to choke or burn your tongue if you keep eating like a bunch of coyotes. No one’s gonna take the damn pot from you.” He added, rolling his eyes as Namjoon leaned down to add more meat and vegetables to the pot once the two ate the last fully cooked piece of meat. 

“We have to hurry! The game DLC drops in 20 minutes!” Jungkook huffed, pointing his chopsticks over in you and Yoongi’s direction. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in mild disbelief while Yoongi leveled him with an unimpressed stare. 

“So you’re telling me you two are trying to gobble down a whole pot of meat and veggies meant for eight people so you can stay up playing video games?” He inquired. Jin nodded from beside Kook, unable to talk as he drank his soju. 

Jimin watched them in amusement while Tae eyed the grilled meat, clearly excited about the second round. Hoseok cracked open a can of sprite, pouring it into one of his glasses before he spoke up. 

“We bought extra meat but you two are going to eat it all before Y/n even gets her share.” He scolded. The two vocalists exchanged a look with one another, frowning when they realized that not many of the others had gotten to eat much. Noticing the immediate guilt that crossed their face, you waved your hands. 

“I-It’s okay, you guys are hungry-” the sound of your stomach cut you off and everyone frowned. 

“Okay, that’s enough meat hogging for you two.” Namjoon declared, grabbing some lettuce and packing some rice in the bottom of it. Before you could protest and say it was okay, Namjon plucked some of the thicker slices of meat off the grill before holding it up to you. You blushed, slightly shy as you leaned closer to him, taking a bite of the wrap to test and see if the meat was too hot. Once you found it was the perfect temperature, you took the rest in one bite, your plump lips brushing against Namjoon’s fingers at the end. 

He must have noticed your subtle flirting, if the blush on his face was anything to go by. 

“You two would make a cute couple.” Yoongi mused idly, making his own lettuce wrap. Namjoon, now flustered, moved to take the meat off the grill, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. You only smiled as you reached for more of the grilled food. 

Later that night, you stood in front of the bed, tapping your foot as you tried to figure out how this was going to work with four of you in one bed. Namjoon wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing light kisses to the side of your neck. Part of you melted immediately, pressing back against him before remembering that Hoseok and Yoongi were in the room, too. 

“J-Joon!” 

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna watch you. Unless you’re into that kind of thing.” Yoongi mused, cursing when Hoseok elbowed his side. 

“What, you gonna suggest we join, too?” 

“Again, if she’s into that, why not? We already know Joon-” Whatever he had to say to end that sentence was cut off by Namjoon hurling a pillow in his direction.

“Yah! Quit it, you’re going to make Y/n uncomfortable!” He scolded, pivoting on his heel to get in bed, clearly flustered. You blinked for a moment or two, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened in such a small time frame. 

What was Yoongi going to say? Joon was into…what?

You glanced back at the bed, finding Joon furiously scrolling through his phone, probably looking through his queue of webtoons to catch up on. Shaking off the small curious need you had to press this further, you crawled into bed beside him, scooting so your head was on his chest. Joon smiled, pulling you closer into him as he continued his scrolling. 

You were already drifting to sleep by time Hoseok and Yoongi got up to turn it in for bed. Namjoon said something above you, but it melted into the sound of his heartbeat as you let sleep finally take over.

-2 am-

You tossed and turned, groaning in annoyance as a sudden wave of thirst arose you from a particularly cute dream. Rubbing your eye, you noticed Namjoon absent from your side, and your brows furrowed in confusion, noticing Hoseok was also missing from the bed. 

After rolling out of bed, you slide on Namjoon’s oversized Koya slippers, shuffling your way out into the hall. Namjoon and Hobi could be out for a late night stroll or something of the sort. You just hoped they were being careful out so late.

Idly as you made your way to the kitchen, you wondered if you should slice some apples and wait for them to get back.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone chattering in the kitchen. You slowed your steps, slowly peeking around the corner. 

You found the two men in question, standing near each other as they talked. Normally you’d stroll up and teasingly ask why they were up so late as well, but the intimate closeness and the looks on their faces made you hesitate. Instead you hung back, listening to them.

“You still haven’t asked her?” Hoseok inquired. Namjoon rubbed his neck, looking down at the ground. 

“Things have been so hectic lately and I haven’t gotten to sit down and talk with her.” He answered, his tone clearly disappointed. Your heart sank. 

Was something wrong? 

“Not everyone is down for a poly relationship, Hobi.” He added after a beat of silence. You stared at the two, lips parting as the fractured context of the late night convo started piecing themselves together. Hoseok nodded, reaching out to gently squeeze Namjoon’s arm.

“I know. Yoongs and I aren’t gonna push things if she’s not okay with it. We miss you, though, Joon. And honestly? Y/n is a beautiful woman with an amazing personality. I’d be lying if I said Yoongs and I haven’t talked about it more than once.” He chucked. Namjoon cocked a brow, lifting his head.

“You two were talking about my girlfriend?”

“We’re trying to get you to quit being such a coward and tell her you’re poly. Maybe she’d be our girlfriend.” Hobi fired back, teasingly. Namjoon, seemingly flustered, didn’t seem opposed to the notion.

Your heart skipped a beat and you stepped back, eyes wide.

Yoongi and Hobi? They had been thinking of you in a romantic manner? Since when? And what was all of this about them missing Joon? Had the three of them…?

As you were turning to leave, you ran right into Yoongi’s chest. You almost let out a startled yell, had he not have gently put a hand over your mouth. You stared up at the sleepy eyed rapper and he shook his head. 

“These two really have no hindsight, having this kind of conversation out in the open.” He nodded towards the bedroom. “C'mon, it’ll be a whole mess if they find out we’re here.” He moved his hand from your lips, gently taking your wrist to tug you silently along to bed. 

Once there, he let you go, crawling into bed and giving you a small hum when you hesitated. 

“Before they come back, I’ll fill in the blanks. Hoseok, Namjoon, and I were in a poly relationship. Joon met you and we all decided he could take a break from us and see how things went with you. He wants to tell you he’s poly and see if you’d like to try a relationship with us as a quartet. It’s a lot to take in, but you can rest easy, Hobi and I will respect your decision. Joon cherishes you and your relationship, too. He’s never snuck around or anything behind your back. All of us have respected you, as well as Joon’s wish to take a break from our relationship while he worked this out. Plus we’re not gonna like, push up on you or anything. Unless you’re into that.” He yawned, echoing the same words he said earlier.

They suddenly held a lot more weight.

You heard the other two rappers heading back down the hall and all but dove into bed, eyes closing just enough for you to peek in the darkness as Namjoon and Hoseok walked in. Yoongi bit back the urge to chuckle, humming in faux sleepiness when Hoseok settled in behind him, kissing the nape of his neck. Joon mirrored him, wrapping his hands around your waist as he pulled your back flush against his chest.

You hoped Namjoon couldn’t tell how much your heart was racing as you did your best to go back to sleep.

-Next Day-

After yesterday’s revelation, you began to notice things here and there that had previously went over your head. 

The way Yoongi felt at home borrowing Namjoon’s clothes, giving himself sweater paws with one of Joon’s Fear of God sweaters as he settled on the couch, immersed in a book as Hoseok rubbed his calves idly, quietly complimenting Yoongi on the muscles that were there. 

Namjoon wasn’t too far behind, squeezed into the end of the couch with Hobi, sharing his phone screen so they could also watch some videos of other bands. Hoseok shifted his attention quickly, his head on Namjoon’s shoulder as they watched. 

They all looked so comfortable.

Biting your lip, you walked over, standing in front of them. 

“I wanna watch, too. That sounds like Dreamcatcher, I love them.” 

“I can lift my legs, Y/n.” Yoongi offered, moving to move his curled legs from beside Hoseok’s hip.

“That’s alright.” You swallow down the butterflies and nervousness, moving to sit down, your bottom on both Namjoon and Hoseok’s thigh, gently taking the phone from Namjoon and holding it between you three. Yoongi watched you in interest, the corner of his lips curling up.

“C-can you see?” You inquired, glancing over your shoulder to look at both Namjoon and Hoseok, biting your lip when you saw how close they were. 

“Not quite. Scoot back a little.” Namjoon instructed, gently pulling your hips back until your back was flush against both of them. You squirmed slightly, heart hammering as both of them settled their chins on your shoulder, breaths ghosting your neck as you shakily resumed the video.

The four of you sat like that for at least an hour or so, enjoying the proximity of one another. With every creeping minute, you found it more apparent that you weren’t really bothered by the idea of Namjoon’s previous relationship with the other two rappers. 

If the thunder of your heart was anything to go by, you were more than comfortable with also getting the same attention.

Before the gravity of that realization could hit you, Jimin came bounding into the living room, startling you all. 

“Hyungs! Y/n! We should do karaoke!” He cheered, seemingly unbothered by the closeness of the four of you. You lowered the phone, tilting your head.

“Karaoke? Where did that come from?” 

“I had to sit up all night while Jungkook played with Jin-hyung and Tae can sleep through a hurricane, I can’t. So tonight, before that happens, I want us all to do some karaoke!” He cheered. You smiled at his energy, sliding out of Hoseok and Namjoon’s lap as you helped Jimin set up the TV and the machine that Jimin had found in one of the closets in the home. 

Namjoon rubbed his neck as he watched you, eyeing the curve of your ass while you bent over to see where the HDMI cable port was located. 

“I didn’t expect her to sit in our lap. She’s making it hard for me to figure out an approach on asking.” He muttered. Yoongi hummed, sitting up to slide nimble fingers over Hoseok’s sweatpants clad leg, giving the outline of his cock a subtle, sneaky squeeze, purring when the younger rapper bit back a groan, sucking in a quick breath through his teeth. 

“I’d say she’s making something hard, alright.” He added, casually taking his hand away from Hoseok’s now throbbing cock when he heard Tae, Jin, and Jungkook loudly making their way over to the living room. 

“Yoongi, that’s just evil.” Hoseok spat, adjusting himself as inconspicuously as he could. Yoongi only hummed coyly, head tilting to the left as you leaned back further, cheering in success when you finally plugged in the machine. 

“It’s in! We can start!” Jimin beamed, clapping eagerly. 

“I wanna go first!”

“Is there Charlie Puth in the bank?”

“Can we sing songs in English and Japanese too?”

You and the vocal line began chattering at once, looking through the list of songs. 

“How about we make it interesting. Whoever gives the worst performance has to do dinner dishes.” Jin offered, a spark in his eye. You immediately frowned, squinting. 

“Isn’t that unfair? Did you forget who you are? How am I supposed to beat the seven of you?” You hissed in clear disapproval. 

“Well you won’t win with that attitude, Y/n. Plus, as long as you have fun, that’s what matters!” Tae cooed, a boxy grin on his face. Your eyes narrowed even more and Namjoon raised his hand. 

“If you do lose, I’ll help with the dishes. Though I doubt you will.” He offered. You smiled softly, feeling at ease once again. 

“Fine. Let’s do it, then.” 

Everyone eagerly looked through the songs after that, with Jungkook and Jimin teaming up to duet one of Khalid’s songs, having the time of their lives. Tae followed close behind them, singing one of Halsey’s songs. From the way he moved his body, you can tell he’d probably listened to it often, coming up with his own choreo for it as he sang. He nearly slipped a few times, leaving you wondering why he tried to dance on a tile floor with socks on. Jin got more than a few laughs as he chose Gain’s Paradise Lost, copying the choreo nearly perfectly. 

“Hyung, how many times have you done this?” Hoseok inquired, clearly impressed by the look on his face. Jin only winked and blew him a kiss in his usual manner. 

“Enough to not have to do dishes. Y/n, you’re up!” He grinned, passing the mic to you.

You shuffled forward, shyly clutching the mic as the familiar sound of Ddaeng filled the living room.

“She’s pandering!” Jimin gasped playfully, unable to move fast enough to dodge the pillow Tae threw his way as he shushed him. 

“Shh! Let her rap!” 

You stuck your tongue out, doing your best to copy the Rap Line as closely as you could, unable to keep yourself from breaking character and laughing when Tae started dancing and rapping along in the background.

Out of the corner of your vision, you could see Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hoseok mouthing along, and you’d be lying if you said the subtle intensity in their eyes as they watched you wasn’t as terrifying as it was arousing. 

You took a seat once the song ended, smiling and taking the water bottle Jimin offered you as you watched all three of the rappers get up from the couch. 

“The three of you are going to do a song together?” You asked without hesitation. They nodded. 

“We figured we’d wrap this up so we can actually start cooking.” Yoongi mused, checking the time. You glanced at your phone, nodding in agreement when you saw it was already close to seven at night. 

You settled down on the floor with the Vocal Line, knees pulled up to your chest as you waited. Hoseok scrolled down the list of songs in their playlist, eyes sparkling when he found one, pointing at it as he whispered to Namjoon and Yoongi. Namjoon was blushing, but he didn’t look opposed to the idea, while Yoongi only sent him a knowing quirk of the brow. 

“Subtle.” He hummed under his breath as the first notes of the song started. 

You felt your throat run dry, immediately recognizing the song. 

Girl, change into that Victoria’s Secret thing that I like

Alright, okay

Tonight you’re having me your way

Perfume, spray it there

Put our love in the air

Now put me right next to you

Fittin’ to raise the temp in the room

First rub my back like you do

Right there, uh-uh, right there

Uh you touch me like you care

Now stop and let me repay you for the week that you’ve been through

Working that 9-5 and staying cute, like you do oh, oh, oh

You watched, lips parted as Namjoon started singing, his eyes on you as he did so. Hoseok and Yoongi weren’t far behind, improvising a dance with one another as Bangtan’s leader practically serenaded you in front of everyone. Yoongi reached around Joon in a manner way too intimate for a mic pass, his fingers wrapped around Joon’s as he pulled the mic over to his lips, singing the chorus.

I love it, I love it, you love it, you love it

Every time, every time, we touchin’, we touchin’

I want it, I want it, you want it, you want it

I’ll see you, see you, in the morning, in the morning

I wanna put my fingers through your hair

Wrap me up in your legs

And love you till your eyes roll back

I’m tryin’ to put you to bed, bed, bed

I'mma put you to bed, bed, bed

Then I'ma rock your body

Turn you over, love is war, I’m your soldier

Touching you like it’s our first time

Imma put you to bed, bed, bed

Imma put you to bed, bed, bed

Did no one else in the room notice how this was all directed at you? One glance at the others showed they were entertained and immersed in the performance, and not their best friends currently giving you fuck me eyes while singing a song about fucking.

Hoseok, ever the dangerous one, casually took the mic, a far too sweet dimpled smile on his face as he sang. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was singing to you, motioning to you in gentle sweeping motions as he did so.

I’m staring at you while you sleep

You replaced, it for beauty

Put my face up in your neck and breathe (ah breathe)

Take you into my senses

Wake up, it’s time to finish

Round two, It’s round two

Matter of fact, it’s closer to three

D-did he have to motion to the three off them during that last part? You swallowed thickly, unable to decide which one of them to focus on. To be honest, it didn’t matter. At this point, there was an ache between your legs and a flush on your cheeks you were sure people could see a mile away.

The boys continued like this for the entire song, body roles, grinding, and eye contact relentless as they sung, and part of you honestly forgot there were others around. Your mind wandered the longer the song went on. 

Yoongi’s fingers deep inside of you, his lips against your ear, his low voice purring pure filth as he made you fall apart from his hands. Namjoon’s large body pressed against yours, your lips crashed together as he rocked into you, your fingers laced together. Hoseok’s head between your thighs, squeezing your ass and pulling you flush against his lips as he greedily ate you out, dark eyes trained on every twitch of pleasure from your face. All of it rattled through your head along with images of the boys tangled up with one another. Soon, you couldn’t hear the music over the sound of daydream Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi panting and groaning in your ear, accompanied by your own desperate cries and mewls for more-

God, what is happening?!

The sound of clapping cut you out of your daze, and you blinked back to reality as the three Rap Line members set the mic down, only slightly out of breath.

“Okay, so we know who won.” Tae whistled. Everyone nodded in agreement while you gulped down as much water as you could, trying your best not to choke in the process. 

“So as for voting-”

“I’ll just do the dishes.” You said hurriedly, standing up like a shot. All eyes were on you in an instant and you bit back a curse at how obvious you were making it apparent that something was wrong with you. 

“Woah, Y/n…I can see your cheeks all flushed from here. Are you okay? I can do the dishes if you’ve got a fever. Do you want to hold my RJ?” Jin offered, frowning. You waved your hands at him, shooting them all an unconvincing disarming smile.

“I-I’m just a little hot. Go ahead and start dinner, I’m gonna wash my face.” You stuttered though the sentence before darting down the hall, muttering a few curses in your native tongue before you ducked in the bathroom. 

“Get it together, Y/n! What are you doing, girl?” You scold yourself, splashing water on your face. You grip the counter, bowing your head down as you collect yourself. There was a gentle knock that interrupted you, followed by a concerned voice.

“Y/n, are you alright? Do you want me to run to the store and grab some medicine?”

You swung the door open, looking up at Namjoon’s concerned face before you pulled him inside with you closing it back with a little more force than you’d meant to. This did nothing to calm the fears no doubt racing through Namjoon’s head. 

“What-”

“I know about you, Yoongi, and Hobi.” You blurted. Namjoon blinked, brows furrowing for a moment before realization dawned on him moments later. 

“Wait-”

“I overheard last night.” You explained, smoothing your hands down on your pants as you held Joon’s gaze.

“I…I was going to tell you, I swear I’ve never cheated or anything, I would never-”

“I know. Yoongi also woke up last night. He told me everything. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head, Joon.” You stepped closer to him, never breaking eye contact. 

“I never expected something like this, but I’m not opposed to it.” You finally tell him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. Namjoon’s hands gravitated towards your hips instantly, surprise clear on his face. 

“Are you serious?”

“I am. I wish you would’ve told me sooner, though. Instead of triple teaming me by singing sexy songs in front of all our best friends.” You teased. Namjoon hummed, a smile finally cracking onto his face. 

“But where’s the fun in that?” He quipped, leaning down for a kiss. You happily kissed him back, giggling against his lips as he pulled you flush against him by your hips. You ran your fingers through his hair, licking at his bottom lip. Namjoon picked you up without warning, drawing a yelp from you as your legs wrapped around his waist. He set you on the counter of the sink, palms at either side of your thighs as he deepened the kiss, a low groan leaving his lips when you teasingly sucked on his tongue. 

You two broke apart after a minute or so of the sloppy kiss, slightly out of breath as you looked into each other’s eyes. 

“We’ll talk to Hobi and Yoongs about all of this in the morning, right?” You inquired. Namjoon nodded, kissing your head before the two of you quickly made your way out into the kitchen. 

“Y/n, are you feeling better?” 

Jimin was the first to notice you one you returned. You cleared your throat, nodding once. 

“Sorry about that. Just got a bit light headed from the summer heat, it seems.” You lied, shuffling into the kitchen further to see what everyone was doing.

Jimin was slicing some strawberries and mangoes, gently dropping them in a bowl while Jungkook and Jin argued over whether the lamb or lobster should be cooked first. Tae was close to Yoongi, reading off the instructions of the pudding mix they bought while Hoseok washed off a rather large radish.  

“Is that for some dongchimi?” You question, smiling when Hoseok nodded.

“I wanted to make something with a warm broth, so you’d feel better if you’re sick.” He grinned, rolling up his sleeves with a tender, yet determined look on his face. You felt your heart flutter for a moment, missing the proud smile on Namjoon’s face as he walked past you to take the spicy squid and pork out of the fridge.

“Can I help? I don’t want to stand around doing nothing.” You said, moving towards Hoseok. He frowned. 

“But…you’re not feeling well.”

“I’d feel better if I was helping.” You countered. 

Hoseok considered contesting the sentiment before he stepped aside, handing the radish to you. You took his place, getting to work cutting while Hoseok moved to dice some scallions. At some point, Jimin peeked over your shoulder, tilting his head. 

“Hey, Y/n? Aren’t they a bit…big? The slices of radish are gonna take up the entire bowl.” He mused. You blinked and looked at the parts you cut, flustered when you realized they were, in fact, much too large for the banchan bowls. Hoseok brushed the sliced scallions into a mixing bowl before he looked over your shoulder, as well. 

“That’s not too bad. Let’s doctor it up.” He hummed, walking behind you. 

“Just relax, if you’re stiff, it’s gonna come out all chunky.” He told you, his breath tickling the back of your neck as he put his hands over yours, guiding you as you both sliced the radish.

You could feel the blush creeping up to your ears at the close proximity and intimacy. Yoongi watched you both out of the corner of his eye, a satisfied look on his face.

You swallowed thickly, noticing every fine detail now that you were so close to Hoseok.

The way his chin brushed against the top of your head as he helped you slice, the light scent of his cologne flooding your senses, the comforting warmth radiating off of his body. 

Were Hobi’s hands always this soft?

“Oooh, are you flirting with Y/n, hyung?” Tae teased, dramatically popping a mango chunk into his mouth as he pointed in your direction. You bolted, nearly cutting your finger, had Hoseok not have tightened his grip on your hand. 

“Keep teasing Y/n and I’ll tell Joon to cut down on how much meat you get today.” Hoseok scolded. Tae gasped, scandalized while Namjoon nodded from the grill he was setting up in the center of the dining room.

“I guess I’ll give all of your pieces to Y/n.“ He sighed, clearly kidding with the threat of less food. Tae still bowed in your direction like a child being scolded. 

“Sorry, Y/n…”

You smiled.

“It’s alright, Taetae. Let’s get back to cooking, I know I’m starving.“ 

Tae agreed, maneuvering around the kitchen to grab everything he needed for the pudding.

Hobi smiled and nodded towards the cutting board. 

“Let’s finish up, then. We have other things to slice.”

-x-

It took around an hour of shuffling around in the kitchen, hands brushing against your waist, Namjoon scolding the other boys for stealing food, and the usual chaos that came with cooking with Bangtan before dinner was done. 

You squeezed yourself into a seat between Namjoon and Hoseok, digging in with the members cheerfully. It didn’t escape you how the boys had tactfully given you more food during dinner. You even took some initiative, reaching over the table to feed Yoongi a lettuce wrap.

You definitely noticed the way his tongue ran over the tips of your fingers as he took his bite, and part of you wondered if this was how flustered Namjoon was when you did the same to him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a small rose made out of sliced radish that seemingly appeared after Hoseok sat beside you. With a small smile, you admired it as you ate dinner.

Once everyone was full and satisfied, Namjoon hung back, as promised, to help you with dishes. He playfully bumped your arm with his a few times as you worked side by side. You sent him a playful glare, hip checking him while you put the plates away. 

Together, you finished them in no time, sharing a few kisses like two reckless teens before heading back to the room to watch some movies before bed. Tomorrow, you’d definitely talk with Hoseok and Yoongi about this relationship and where it was headed. 

-x-

Something shuffling beside you woke you up in the early hours of the morning, and part of you wondered why you couldn’t just a good night’s sleep without waking up mid way. The shuffling continued, followed by a sharp inhale and the telltale sound of kissing. 

Curious, you cracked your eyes open, squinting in the darkness to figure out what all that movement was. 

You got your answer when you heard the undeniable sound of a muffled moan. You could see Yoongi kissing and nibbling up the side of Hoseok’s neck, whispering something to him in a low, hushed tone. Hoseok shuddered, gripping Yoongi’s arm, and it was then that you noticed the fuller picture. 

Yoongi had pressed himself close to Hoseok’s back, a small, devious smile playing at the corner of his lips as he lazily stroked Hoseok’s cock through the loose sweatpants he was wearing earlier.

“You gotta keep quiet, Hobi. You’re gonna wake up Y/n and Namjoon.” Yoongi purred, though he didn’t seem even remotely close to stopping. Hoseok bit back a curse, blunt nails raking down Yoongi’s arm as he thrusted into his hand. 

“N-no one told you to start jacking me off, Yoongi.” He growled out, huffing out a low growl when Yoongi responded by rolling his thumb over the head of his cock, enjoying the opportunity to further tease him.

You bit your lip, squirming as you watched the subtle way Hoseok’s scolding melted away until he was gasping and whining in Yoongi’s ear, pleading for him to keep going. As your body heated up, you felt something firm nudging your ass, making your face ignite more when a low, groggy growl sounded off from above your head. 

“You’re gonna wake Y/n.” He scolded, but you could tell he was more than enjoying the show. 

“I…I’ve been awake.” Your voice cut through the sound of Hoseok’s moans and Yoongi muttered a startled ‘fuck’, stilling completely. 

“Oh my god. Y/n, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” Yoongi pulled back, and you could see the embarrassed flush on his face. Hoseok sent him a pointed look, clearly frustrated his release was yanked away so suddenly. 

“It’s okay.” You cut off his rambling, looking back at Namjoon. He noticed the way your eyes darkened in the moonlight streaming in through the window and only quirked his lips, nodding in their direction. 

“We did say we’d work things out in the morning. It is technically morning.” He mused. 

Smiling deviously, you turned your attention back to the other two confused rappers. You got on your hands and knees, moving to straddle Hoseok, unable to hold back the laugh that left your lips as he looked up at you with wide eyes. 

“What’s wrong? You woke me up, aren’t you gonna put me back to bed? Isn’t that what you sang to me earlier?” You teased, rolling your hips down. Hoseok grunted, his hands immediately moving to your hips as you continued grinding on him, sighing at the slight relief you got when you felt the thick outline of his cock rubbing against you with every grind. 

“F-fuck…are we dreaming, Yoongs?” Hoseok shuddered, sitting up so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. Yoongi having crawled behind you, leaned down to nip at the free side of your neck, drawing a gasp and a whimper from you. 

“Don’t think so.” Was the low growl of a response. You cupped Hoseok’s cheeks, leaning down to kiss him. Normally you would be tentative and shy, especially kissing someone who was just a close friend less than 24 hours ago, but the ache between your legs and the sound of Yoongi and Namjoon kissing behind you was enough for you to throw whatever hesitation you had away instantly. 

Hoseok didn’t seem to mind, his large hands dipping into your pj shorts, squeezing your ass firmly as he rolled his hips up. You whimpered against his lips, rubbing your breasts against his chest as he moved your hips. Your clothes were getting much too stuffy too fast, and Hoseok must have agreed, if the subtle tug at your shorts was anything to go by. 

“Are you okay with going further?” He questioned once he broke your kiss, his lips damp. You nodded, glancing over your shoulder when you heard Namjoon cursing. Yoongi’s head had disappeared between his thighs, and you couldn’t help the pout and challenging sway of your hips as you looked back at Hoseok. 

“We should have more fun, too.” 

Satisfied with your eager response, Hoseok ran his hands up your shirt, tossing it to the side once you lifted your arms. You did the same with him, gasping in surprise when he lifted your lower body with one arm, sliding your shorts and panties down past your ass in one fluid motion. You wiggled your hips, discarding them in the same manner. 

It surely would be interesting finding all your scattered clothes in the morning. 

You pulled Hoseok’s sweatpants down, nearly salivating at how thick he was. Without thinking twice, you took him in your hand, stroking him slowly as your tongue flicked out, catching the bead of precum that nearly rolled down his head. Hoseok growled in response, his dark eyes holding your gaze as you made a show out of kissing the tip of his cock, with each kiss lingering longer until you have him a teasing suck, rolling your tongue over one of the veins you noticed. He shuddered, hips tensing before he bit his lip. 

“You wanna suck my cock?”

“I am down here, sucking your cock, am I not?” You shot back sassily, a jolt of electricity running through you when you saw the way his jaw clenched. 

“Turn around. If you’re gonna gag on my cock, I should at least be able to taste that pussy while you do, right? C’mon, move that ass for me baby girl.” Hoseok ordered. The authoritative tone in his voice and the low drip of lust in his tone made you move much quicker, turning eagerly for him. 

You hardly had any time to get your mouth back on Hoseok’s cock before he grabbed your ass again, pulling you down until your pussy was right in his face, his tongue flicking out to give you long licks. You gasped, gripping his thighs, hips involuntarily rolling down for more. Hoseok chuckled, his nails digging into the flesh of your ass even more. 

“Almost creamed your panties from grinding on me and now you wanna ride my face, baby girl? Do you want it that bad?”

“H-Hoseok, ah…stop teasing her and eat her out already.” Yoongi scolded, drawing your attention back to him and Namjoon. Joon had sat Yoongi in his lap, spreading the pale rapper’s legs as he stretched him open with his long fingers, a bottle of lube off to the side of Namjoon’s hip. He was sucking hickies into Yoongi’s shoulder, watching you and Hoseok with such an intense look, it made you sudder in Hoseok’s grip. 

Hoseok obliged, his tongue rolling over your clit a few times before drifting lower, curling as it slid into your pussy. You mewled, taking hold of Hoseok’s girthy cock once more, deciding to forgo the teasing from before as you tested to see how far you could take him. 

Your lips stretched around him, stroking whatever you couldn’t comfortably fit. Hoseok groaned against your pussy, slapping your ass once you started bobbing your head. You whimpered, clenching slightly around his tongue. Namjoon perked from his spot near Yoongi, grinning devilishly. 

“Spank her, Hoseok. She loves it.” He instructed. You looked over at him, drool running down your chin once Hoseok started thrusting up into your mouth. Almost as soon as Namjoon told him, Hoseok’s large palm cracked against your ass, drawing a whine and a gasp as the sting sent a pleasurable shock throughout your body. Namjoon, satisfied after pulling his fingers from Yoongi’s slicked hole, lifted his hips, kissing the back of his neck as the Daegu rapper eased down on his cock. 

Yoongi groaned, fists clenching as he stretched around him. 

“G-god damn, it’s been a while, Joon.” Yoongi sighed, rolling his hips to adjust to the stretch. You moaned around Hobi’s cock, your free hand cupping his balls, rolling them in your palm as you eased more of his cock down your throat. 

“H-Holy fuck, Y/n.” Hoseok hissed, running his nails down your ass, leaving you with a pleasurable burn. You shuddered, feeling close to cumming. From the way Hoseok’s balls drew up in your palm, you could tell he was close, too.

A few more minutes of you drooling over his cock while riding his face and Hoseok was growling against you once more, squeezing your ass hard as he raised his hips, cumming with a low, drawn out groan. You mewled against his cock, feeling him fill your mouth. You whimpered, thighs slightly clenching around Hoseok’s head as you came yourself, literally riding your orgasm out as you rutted against his lips. Hoseok shuddered, giving your ass soothing caresses as you eased off of his cock. 

Eyes half lidded, you crawled over to Yoongi, who was nearly incomprehensible as he rode Namjoon, his eyes closed as his head rolled back onto Joon’s shoulder. While on your knees, you shuffled over to him, cupping his cheeks and waiting until he cracked open his lust blown eyes to look at you. You stuck your tongue out, showing him how you still had Hoseok’s cum in your mouth and he instantly knew what you were prompting him to do, leaning down to mold your lips together. His tongue instantly slid into your mouth, greedily sharing Hoseok’s cum as he dominated your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Namjoon growled, snapping his hips up harder at the sight. Yoongi’s voice cracked against your lips and you took over the kiss, running your fingers through his silky, slightly damp hair. Yoongi reached around, spreading your cheeks, and the warmth behind you was a pleasant reminder that Hoseok still had more energy. He slid his cock between your legs, kissing the top of your head as he pushed into your tight pussy slowly. 

“O-Oh my fucking god” You gasped, nearly biting Yoongi’s lip as Hoseok’s girth pushed into you. Hoseok kissed your head once more, holding your wrists back as he pushed in until his hips were flush against your ass. 

“He feel good baby girl? You excited to be stuffed?” Namjoon purred, reaching around to stroke Yoongi’s cock as he watched the way your face changed once Hoseok started moving. It made his cock throb harder while inside of Yoongi. 

“Y-Yes, oh my god yes!” You cried out, eyes rolling slightly as Hoseok started rocking into you with deep, hard thrusts. The only thing keeping you up was Hobi’s grip on your wrists. Your moans were shaky and loud, and the only thing that brought your volume down was Yoongi lacing his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a hard kiss. Whether it was to keep you from waking the others, or just because he wanted to claim your lips again didn’t matter.

The bed creaked in protest as the four of you fucked. At some point, Hoseok let your wrists go, chuckling darkly when your upper body slumped into the sheets, literally face down, ass up as he fucked you. 

“God, your pussy is just swallowing my cock, baby.” Hoseok growled, giving your ass another firm slap. You whined, looking up and biting your lip when you saw Yoongi’s cock bobbing in your face as Namjoon fucked him. 

You pushed yourself up to your elbows, leaning over to take Yoongi in your mouth, tilting your head and looking up at him through your lashes when his wide-eyed gaze flew down to you. 

“Fuck, no no, I’m gonna cum if you-”

You slid further on his cock, shaking your hips for Hoseok as his thrusts curled up just right. You ignored Yoongi’s breathless pleas, the sound of Namjoon and Hobi’s voice encouraging you as you bobbed your head. You moaned and mewled with every thrust, the pleasure running through every inch of your body like electricity as you edged closer and closer to the edge. 

“C’mon, throw that ass back for him baby, I can tell you’re close.” Namjoon instructed. You mewled, obediently spreading your legs further to move back, fucking yourself on Hoseok’s cock as you rolled your tongue along the underside of Yoongi’s cock. 

Namjoon was the first to cum minutes after that, his grip on Yoongi’s hips near bruising as he held him in place. A long, shuddering growl left his lips. You came not to far after him, nearly at the same time as Yoongi as thick ropes of cum landed on your tongue. You swallowed every drop, still teasingly sucking him after he had finished to make sure he was fully satiated. His hand in your hair was enough to draw you off of him. Hoseok came last, pulling out and groaning as he came over the curve of your ass. 

“Hoseok, did you just cum on her ass?” Yoongi inquired, arching a brow.

“I didn’t wanna be rude and cum inside of her!” Hoseok snipped back. You smiled lazily, shaking your ass. 

“It’s fine. Maybe next time Joonie can show you two how much I enjoy being stuffed.” You tease. The three stare at you for a moment before Namjoon shook his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. 

“God, I love her.” 

You all exchange smiles and small pecks, taking turns showering off. Namjoon took the liberty of changing the sheets, beckoning you over once you all were showered and dried off. You crawled back into bed, kissing his cheek while Yoongi slid in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You figured Hoseok was somewhere behind you and you smiled, settling in with a smile on your face, the pull of sleep taking you not too long afterwards. 

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter One

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, heartbreak, angst (if you squint)

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only. 

Word Count: 3, 394 words

Read Prologue Here!! (please do before reading this or nothing will make sense)

***

(Gif is not mine!)

Your stare is permanently stuck on the passing scenery-- tall green trees, short, obnoxiously-colored suburban homes, smooth gravel roads, white picket fences...

When you told Mr. Evans you were leaving school, you failed to mention you were actually moving away from the town entirely. 

Everything about this stupid town was still as obnoxious as you had last remembered it to be and you could feel yourself immediately regretting coming back, stomach curling with anxiety and uneasiness.

But more than that, you felt dread. Like an inevitable disaster was to come any moment now. And even though you refused to admit it to yourself on the surface, deep down you knew what that disaster was. 

Nothing that starts so abruptly ends smoothly in your experience, and even though your intent was entirely genuine, you weren’t sure how seeing your dad with someone new would make you feel once it was staring you in the face.  In fact, you didn’t know how coming back to this town would make you feel in general.

The car you’re in feels utterly small, the leather interior had a feeling to you--like it would come to life at any moment and strangle you, crush your windpipes beneath its touch, deprive your bloodstream of oxygen until it all came crashing down at you and the water really did gobble you whole.

It was June third, a whole week before the wedding and you’d made the decision to come back. To come home to your father-- against your better judgment, of course. But maybe not so much. You needed the closure.

You’d always be restless, always looking over your shoulder at your past and thinking ‘what if...’. Those what-ifs were holding you back from moving forward. Maybe seeing your father get married and move on would help you do so too.

So flew back as soon as you got time off in school with no return ticket. You had asked for time off work as well, which wasn’t as easy to get. But they eventually relented-- of course only if you promised to not take any more time off the next year.

You’d also notified Daniel, but he was still upset and had only barely acknowledged your phone call. He’d been crashing at a friend’s couch after your fight, unable to face you.

If you knew you’d hurt him that bad you would’ve left earlier, to be completely honest. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable in his own home.

“We’re here, miss.”

Before you knew it, you were being jolted awake from your thoughts by the taxi driver, a kind older man, who smiles at you from the rearview mirror.

You shake your head as if to rid yourself of your thoughts before taking some cash out of your purse and giving it to him. You return a grateful smile, granted somewhat meek, and exit the cab, tugging your suitcase along with you.

The driver speeds off at some point, but you don’t notice, too focused on the house before you. Your childhood home was still the same- huge and suburban as hell- except now...

“What the fuck?” you breathe, clenching your fists.

Oh hell no. It was one thing to want to fill up that hole your mother’s death left behind and another thing entirely to want to fill it up and paint over it.

...with the grossest, most irritating shade of blue you've ever seen in your life, by the way.

You had planned on being calm when you came back, to act mature and prove you weren’t that naive, push-over, overly-emotional teenage girl that they’d once known. But they were making it really damn hard on you.

You clench your fists again, stalking over to the house, uncaring as your heels dig into the front lawn.

Over time, you’d developed more feminine tastes. And today you had pulled on a pretty pink summer dress and a pair of white, four-inch heels. Your hair was styled into bouncy, loose curls which you’d pinned at the back with a pink hairpin to keep it from your face except for a few flyaway strands which framed it nicely. 

You had thought of coating your cheeks with soft blush, but seeing as the sun would suffice to make you entirely flushed, you’d gone instead with a light coat of shimmery pink shadow, mascara, and creamy light pink lipstick.

You take a deep breath, letting the feeling of your lungs expanding give you a bit of an energy boost before bringing your knuckles down on the door, firm and imposing.

The sound of loud chatter alerts you of guests and that same feeling of dread almost takes over you before it’s quickly replaced by anger when the disgusting blue porch comes back into your view.

After a while, the door swings open and a smiling woman comes into view. The first thing that strikes you about her is not her beauty, which is incredibly abundant. She’s petite and had kindness lining her fine, slightly mature features, and long blonde hair. No. It is instead her eyes- sparkling pools of blue.

Something about them instantly strikes you as familiar, your muscles contracting and skin prickling with distress.

“Can I help you?” Her voice, smooth and wise, shakes you from your shock and your irritation comes back full force.

You can’t help but be snarky, peering behind her with transparent impatience. “I’m looking for Y/f/n?”

Her brows furrow as she inspects you closely. “And who may you be?”

You don’t have a chance to answer before footsteps approach and the door is thrown open. “Honey, who’s at the d- Y/n,” your father breathes, smile freezing on his face. 

“Father,” you reply coldly before softening your tone once you see him wince at it. “It’s good to see you,” you comment stiffly.

He stares at you, shocked, for a few seconds before he slowly blinks his shock away.

You honestly expect him to turn you away, banish you forever after how things had been left between you two last, but that thought is erased as soon as you see him striding toward you, arms wide.

You don’t get to so much as react before he’s fiercely embracing you, pulling you to his chest and squeezing ever so firmly.

Your arms hang mid-air, confused as he squeezes a bit tighter, a small sigh of relief leaving him.

“I missed you so much, hun,” he breathes against you.

Your father hadn’t hugged you since you were a kid, and even then it was always a bit rare. It’s been so long since he’d shown even a shred of emotion to you, much less for you, so you really didn’t know how to react.

And those words, so simple and yet so moving, make tears prickle the backs of your eyes and even though it’s only momentary, your anger slowly dissolves and you gradually wrap your arms around him.

“I missed you too, dad.” You try to relish in the feel of his hug, of his smell of cologne, aftershave, and a bit of Vik's rub for as long as you can because you didn’t know how much you’d missed it. His affection.

He breaks the hug and grips your shoulders, stepping back to look at your face. His lips curl into a slightly sad but mostly proud smile, “You’re so grown up and pretty.”

You don’t know what to say. I mean, what the hell happened to your dad? 

Ultimately you decide (for the sake of the lady--who you assumed was Kennedy from the casual “honey” your father had used to call her) to go with it. No need putting her through that.

Not yet at least. There’d be time for that.

“I know I should’ve called but I got off school a bit earlier, so I thought I could come by and stay for a while,” you mumble awkwardly, glancing over his shoulder at Kennedy.

She watches you two with an unreadable expression on her face. Not disgust or anger, though, which you guess is a good thing?

He shakes his head, clasping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, hun. You actually came just in time!” he gently nudges you forward.

You stumble on, suitcase tightly held in your grasp and stare at him with confusion. “Why?”

He smiles, all broad and happy, nearly knocking you off your damn feet with its novelty. Growing up, his smiles were rarer than hen’s teeth and you were not accustomed to this new aura he was giving off.

“We’re having a family reunion.”

You nod stiffly, once again dreading your decision to come back today of all days as you both move forward.

You stop just before Kennedy, who smiles sweetly at you. “Hey. You must be Y/n, right? I’m Kennedy.”

Those eyes...why do they look so familiar? The blue pools distract you long enough after your introduction. So much so in fact, that your dad must nudge you to remind you that her hand is sticking out, awaiting your own greeting.

You shake your head vigorously, smiling, albeit a bit tightly, and stick your own hand out, shaking hers. “Uh, hey. Y-yes. I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Now, come on in. I’m sure everyone will be happy to meet you.” She moves away with a smile, letting you into the house.

The living room is full of people, a bit of a strange sight because your house had always been empty except for you and sometimes your dad. There were ten or so people, talking loudly amongst themselves, sharing drinks and stories, hugging, laughing, eating, celebrating. 

...and then there was you, idly standing behind your dad, suitcase trailing somewhat sadly behind you.

“Guys!” your father calls out. You’re shorter so you can’t see above his shoulder, but you can hear the exact moment their chatter simultaneously ceases and you cringe so hard, you feel your facial muscles tremble.

You hated attention. Especially from strangers.

Your father goes on to say something else, introducing you like the drama queen he is, you guessed. But you couldn’t hear him with the loud, all-consuming ringing in your ears.

You could only hear your heart, slowing down then speeding up again then slowing down then speeding up again. Could only feel the hairs on your skin rise, could only furrow your brows as your core spoke to you.

He’s here, it whispers.

You don’t know whether you’re imagining that voice or not, but you feel it: something buried so deep into your very being that you couldn’t even fathom what it was. Reassuring you that he was, in fact, here.

Your whole body felt it, like it was readying for something big. On the brink of it, in fact.

Only one person could cause this reaction. But he wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here, that was impossible. Right? 

I mean, what were the chances of him being here right now? Laughable is what. 

So then why-

The ringing stops and your hearing resumes. The moment speeds up to a normal pace when you suddenly look up.

At that moment, your father and Kennedy had parted to reveal you.

...at that moment your eyes meet his.

The air rushes out of you in a single breath. Your nerve endings, recognizing his remarkable gaze reawaken from their long sleep in that split-second. Your heart immediately pounds against your rib cage, fighting its hardest to escape and touch his own.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

Your knees wobble, your head spins, your eyes water, your fingers tremble, the shock is almost too much to bear. You haven’t seen him for two years and the day you come back, you see him. He’s here. 

His own lips, still so pink and luscious, part, eyes widening a fraction. A hint of almost tangible shock passes through him before morphing into a look you remembered all too well. Wistfulness. Want. Hurt. Wild aching. For you? For what you had in the past? For the past itself?

His hand twitches. Did he want to run to you as much as you wanted to run to him right now? Did he miss the feeling of your skin under his fingertips as much as you did his?

No one else is around at the moment. No one else in the world exists except you two. Nothing is keeping you from eachother, nothing stands in your way at this very moment. 

Even if people and furniture and time itself are standing between you. Right now, they don’t matter, not one bit. 

He was still so incredibly beautiful. The first thing you notice is how beautifully he’d aged. It wasn’t that long since you’d last seen eachother, but his hair was longer now, the ends curling below his ears, outlining his sculptured face so incredibly well, you struggled to peel your gaze from him. And his beard too had grown, making him look even more delectable- which you hadn’t thought possible. 

You couldn’t help it when a wave of hot, molten, sweet, forbidden arousal passes through you and you discreetly press your thighs together, unable to control your racing thoughts.

A charge of energy comes off both of you, zapping the other into that sweet, painful alertness you both had missed with the greatest of bittersweetness. A single gush of fresh air travels down your airways and straight into your lungs and you take another trembling breath, remembering just what it was about this that made you crave it so bad. 

His mouth opens then closes and you don’t know if he wants to speak and is struggling to find the right words, or if he’s merely struggling to breathe.

Because you sure as hell were. You literally couldn’t physically breathe, his beauty stealing that ability, but your soul? Oh, it was getting plenty of air right now.

Breathe. You can finally breathe, you realize. He’s the fresh air to your cells. He’s the life to your everything. No, your mind chides as your view alters to a new, gut-wrenching view. No.

No, because he is being embraced by a beautiful brunette right now. 

And just like that, the moment is broken. You can feel your chest concave painfully and disappointment wrap around you like a vice at the sight, but instantly push the feelings away.

Though he never stops looking at you. Not when another family member greets him, patting him roughly on the shoulder. Not when the pretty brunette pulls him down for a kiss. Not even when you look away, unable to watch the scene unfold anymore.

You could still feel him looking at you, so you purse your lips, trying to hide how sick to your stomach seeing some other woman touch him like that made you feel. Your heart squeezes so painfully in you, you struggle not to let it show.

He isn’t mine, you repeat in your head over and over. Control yourself.

You look at the other people in the room as if you'd forgotten they were even there in the first place, deliberately ignoring him and his...partner.

Reality really did suck. And even though you’d learned this lesson a while ago, it never ceased to shock you with its ice-cold cruelty. 

Kennedy’s family members crowded around you, and after being frozen at that moment for a while, your brain finally began functioning again (somewhat) as you greeted everyone politely. They were all warm and kind, complimenting you on how “gorgeous” you were and how excited they all were to meet you and welcome you to their family.

You tried to focus on them, but your mind kept drifting back to him and her and although you felt like a garbage person for it, nothing any of these people were saying to you was registering.

What in the actual hell was he doing here? Was he related to someone here? Was his date related to someone here and he was just accompanying her? When had his hair grown so much? Did he feel everything you felt when you looked at eachother? Did he too feel the ground beneath his feet shift? When and where had he met her? And was she serious or just a fling? Did he love her?

Your father chuckles at a guest as you greet another. You don’t see it happening but your father had spotted Chris from across the room and before you realize what’s happening, he’s beckoning him over. “Hey, Chris! Come over here and meet my daughter!”

Oh shit. Fuck. Motherfucker.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Your first instinct is to try to run away, eyes scanning the room for any possible route. But you realize you can’t escape. It’d be too suspicious to do so in front of all these people. You didn’t care if he knew that you couldn’t bear being in his presence at this point, but if they did, it’d beg so many questions.

So you stand there, stock still and watch him kiss the brunette hanging off his arm and telling her he’d be “right back”. It takes everything in you to make sure not a lick of the true discomfort you were feeling showed on your face at the sickeningly sweet display of affection.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s probably freaking out as well. Damn you, Dad, you think.

And yet, as you reluctantly look up and see him approach, your heart still skips a beat.

Fuck, how can one human being be so fucking dangerous but still look so goddamn beautiful all at once? How could life be so cruel to you?

As his baby blue eyes meet yours, you wonder if you imagine his lips curl into a somewhat sad grimace as they take you in before flattening out into a perfectly polite, perfectly composed smile due to how fast it all flashes on his face.

His intense gaze pins yours down and you’re so under his fucking spell that you can’t look away no matter how hard you will your body to obey you. He still controls you, your insides laugh cruelly. 

And you don’t have the will strength to defy or otherwise correct it because behind those eyes you see it. He is looking at you like a hungry man looks at a meal, freezing your moves and lodging your breath in your esophagus. 

Desperate to take as much in as he can with as little time as possible. Like he wanted to look at you but he didn’t want you to know. Or maybe he did but he didn’t want others to know.

A chill runs down your spine at the mere conviction of the gaze and you try not to return it with just as -if not more- torturous, sweet want.

How is it that even after all this time apart, you were still able to convey all these feelings from a room away? That was not a question you were particularly keen on answering. 

He swallows sharply once you’re face to face with one another as if you had suddenly dawned on him. You watch the small smile falter on his handsome face as if in slow motion.

And having him this close? Being able to smell that intoxicating scent of his? Men’s shampoo, cinnamon, coffee, and crisp paper...the same fucking scent you’d spent years trying to scrub off your skin, to forget?

Fuck, it suddenly dawns on you that he’s here right now. And you’re here right now. And that nothing is the same anymore. But that somehow, his hold over you still remained. And you questioned if yours still remained as well.

At this, the hollow and unfortunately-familiar- throbbing of your pained heart comes rushing back. And along with it your entire crushed heart, your torn-up throat from all the sobbing you did after having to leave. The sleepless nights that ensued when you questioned constantly why. Why would he leave you out in the cold? Why wasn't your love enough?

And along with that comes the years you spent building yourself up again. The endless months it took for you to feel beautiful once more, to trust yourself. To find someone to love. To be you again. 

And most importantly: to forget him. To forget the kisses that still buzzed ever so faintly on your skin when your mind quickly brushed over him. To forget the feeling of his fingers trailing all over you, soft and caring and all the same impulsive and filled with desire. Of his sweet words-- which still rung in your ears from time to time.

Even if it hadn’t worked.

You fought so hard to keep the memory of him shut out. For so long, you worked hard to rebuild what he’d broken. 

Even now, you still struggled with some of those things.

And then the spell is broken. All that shock and numbing ache washes away and you’re left naked in the cold, fully aware of who it was that was standing before you.

His brilliant pools of blue, ever the startling stark contrast to whatever emotion his face projected, look into your own, his lips curling upwards. 

His lips curling upwards despite everything that’d happened in the past few years. Despite the situation you were in now.

You anxiously await his next words because your own are tangled up in your lumped throat, your heart beating at an erratic pace. 

And then he speaks.

“It’s good to see you again, sweetheart.”

Read Chapter Two here!!

***

the word “Sweetheart” has never given me so many chills in my life, I swear.

Also, WHO DA FUQ TOLD CHRIS EVANS HE COULD BE SO GODDAMN HOT?  That man, I swear....

fnjbnebjdfobnepibunbunvslk;akpirjvu

And his long hair? And that beard?.....

fnjbnebjdfobnepibunbunvslk;akpirjvu  x2

A Special Thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicola-is-my-brand-man

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk​

@sincerelytlh

@tomshelbystits

@kind-sober-fullydressed

@liatnisim

And of course my lovely forevers!

@jessikared97​

@ladyofletters67​

@lilypalmer1987​

@sammykb1994​

@tomshelbystits

[dogcircle-scans]

Natsume Yuujinchou: “Village of the Sleeping Vessel (Part 2)” Summary (Chapter 101)

The person who appears in front of Natsume during a crisis… Is he an enemy, or an ally—…?

The long-awaited continuation to the latest arc! This chapter was so intense I felt like I was doing more translating than summarizing lol. Regardless, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

This issue comes with a Nyanko-sensei cable tie, so if anyone likes that, feel free to get a copy.

The next chapter will come out on September 24th.

Special thanks to Jessica for proofreading, as always!

- Niji

[Everything under the cut]

Chapter 101: “Village of the Sleeping Vessel”(Part 2)

Natsume: Ma… Matoba-san!? Why are you here…? Matoba: I came to help. Natsume: Huh———— Nyanko: They are coming.

Just as Nyanko-sensei says, a swirl of wooden dolls head towards them. Matoba, unfazed, looks at them with a smile.

Paper dolls attack their wooden attackers, just as Natori appears.

Natori: Thank goodness you’re alright. Take this chance and come with me!

Natsume: Natori-san! Natori: Hey, Natsume.

The five of them take shelter behind some trees.

Natori: ——Hiiragi, good work protecting them until we came. Hiiragi: Master. Natori: For now, let’s look for a place to hide. Seriously, Natsume… Why did you turn up at a place like this? Natsume: Well… Nyanko-sensei mysteriously ran away from home, so I was looking for him…

Natori: He ran away from home? Nyanko: AS IF I’D DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT! It’s just Natsume with his super-ultra-level misunderstanding! Natsume: …Um, the whole story is pretty complicated… Meanwhile, why are you here at this village as well? Even Matoba-san has come along… Matoba: …I was in the middle of an important lunch meeting as the head of my clan.

Matoba: All of a sudden that Natori dashed in and dragged me away by the scruff of my neck. Natori: …… Natsume: What? Matoba: When I asked for the details, he said that you were in danger. With the other party being who he is, it seemed he needed my help. Honestly, this is extremely bothersome, but well… I think it’ll be interesting to have you be indebted to me, Natsume-kun. Besides, I was curious as to why Natori’s shiki were in this village. Why were you monitoring that man? Natsume: Monitoring… Do you mean that man with long hair? Natori: …Well, we have our circumstances… ——Hiiragi, what was that man doing here? Hiiragi: ——… That man…

Hiiragi: ———He was walking around the village as if he was looking for something. He would check abandoned houses or sheds, and eventually he even entered the workshop and warehouse of the only family that remained in this Homura District——

Hiiragi: There, I saw Natsume and the cat, who had ran away from home. Natsume: No, I came here because——

Sasago and Urihime appear in a puff of smoke, interrupting their conversation. It seems that they've been looking around, and found that a barrier has been erected around the village.

Natori: It’s as I thought… This will be troublesome. Matoba: Well, this does sound like something he would do. Natsume: ——A barrier…?

Natori sends Sasago and Urihime to investigate the nature of the barrier, and they leave.

Natsume: ——Natori-san. Natori: Natsume… I would like to send you back home immediately, but…

Natori: Ayakashi——— Your Sensei, is currently unable to get out of here. This village has already become his hunting ground. Natsume: Hunting ground…………

Just as they say this, they catch a glimpse of a wooden doll in the sky. They will need to find a new hiding place soon.

Nyanko: Hey, Natsume. Do you smell something? From beyond those bushes. Natsume: Huh…? I hope it’s not a delicious-smelling udon shop or something, Sensei. Nyanko: NO!! Still, it’s still a strange… scent… Natori: … *sniff* I can’t smell it. Hiiragi: ——No, now that he mentions it… It doesn’t smell bad, but it makes me feel like I shouldn’t get close… Matoba: In that case, we should head towards it. Natsume: Huh? But… Matoba: If that place makes ayakashi feel as though they shouldn’t get close, then those wooden dolls are unlikely to come near it too.

Natsume & Natori: WOW… (……I would have preferred an udon shop……) Matoba: Isn’t it great that it isn’t an udon shop? Seems like it isn’t really a significant building. Let’s enter. Natori: Wha-! Oi!

They enter the building and look around, but see that nothing is inside. Natsume finds the building rather strange, and asks if Nyanko-sensei and Hiiragi are feeling okay. They both confirm that they felt alright the moment they entered the building.

Natsume: ——Why is there something like this here…? Natori: It’s probably because… this place is connected to an exorcists’ neighborhood. In the past, under the guise of a pottery village, Homura specialized in creating porcelain that could be used as effective exorcism tools*. Natsume: Exorcism tools——? Natori: Somehow, Hakka Pottery harbored mysterious powers. All the exorcism tools that were created here, be they masks or pots, were all top class items. Matoba: Many of them were artisans who took their work seriously, so they weren’t keen on dealing with anyone who weren’t interested in their art. Because of that, their work don’t often appear on the market. They truly are phantom tools. However, time passed and the artisans with the power to create such works began dying out.

[A more literal translation of this term is “tools to aid their technique/magic”. I’m exercising some creative liberties here in order to make it digestible in English.]

Matoba: Now, it’s but a miserable village with only one pottery kiln left. Natsume: ——… (That person’s——) Natori: In any case, this is a place with such a history. Something might have been left behind here. There are also violent people who come to this place. Be they exorcists with strong ambitions, or Collectors with no integrity.

Natsume tells them that the long-haired man was called a collector, and Matoba explains that a “Collector” is a term used in their business to refer to people who collect items related to ayakashi, or exorcism tools that harbor strong powers. Natori says that the man Natsume met was called “Ban”, an infamous practitioner who serves a female Collector.

[Imma just put all subsequent mentions of ‘Collector’ with a capital letter, since it’s now established that they aren’t just normal collectors. Also, “Ban” literally means ‘companion’, ‘attendant’, or ‘follower’, which makes me laugh a little because his whole identity is apparently just acting as someone’s servant. It’s a bit ironic considering the threat he’s supposed to pose in this arc.]

In the forest, Ban discovers his broken wooden dolls among shreds of paper.

Ban: Where... did these rats come from?

Back in the building, Natori explains that Ban comes from an old line of exorcists and can control dolls made from wooden planks. He is known for surrounding his prey as though he is on a hunt.

Natori: You could joke that he’s like a hunter now that he’s working to collect exorcism tools, but it is nothing to laugh at. Anyway, as long as it’s for his master’s collection, he will show no mercy. Once he has his eye on something, he must attain it. He would even visit various places for unknown items.

Matoba: ——And then, when he came to this village, Ban happened to encounter an extraordinary exorcism tool. It’s what you are holding. The vessel that your cat is in.

Ban: (I also want that.) Natsume: ——… …… Thank you, very much……

Matoba: ——… Huh? Natsume: …You came all this way… Natori-san, Matoba-san, and even Hiiragi and the other shiki… You came to help Sensei and me… Thank you very much……!

Nyanko: *Chomp!* Natsume: OUCH! Nyanko: You fool! What are you getting all afraid for!? I could easily beat this group of weaklings at their own game— Matoba: *grab!* Shush!

Natsume: (——He’s walking around the building——…)

Eventually, Ban leaves the area, and disappears into the forest. Matoba, seeing this as a chance, suggests that they head towards the pottery workshop.

Natori: What!? Moving around is a bad idea— Matoba: Though I was unwillingly brought here, it’s still a rare chance for me to come to Homura. We can make this our hideout, so until I return, you can just hide at that corner over there, Natori. Natori: …… Natsume: If you’re going, can I come along too? The potter stayed behind when I ran away, and I’m concerned about his well-being. Matoba: Hm… I would love to have a talk with the potter as well. Why don’t we invite him over to this hideout of ours? Natsume: …… …Sensei, could you hide here as well? If that person finds you— Nyanko: Are you an idiot? Just what do you see me as?

Nyanko: The one you should be afraid of isn’t that vulgar huntsman. It is me. You should be doing your best to worry for that man, so that I don’t run out of here and gobble him up.

Natsume: ——Is that so? Nyanko: It is so.

Sasago and Urihime investigate the barrier, confirming that they cannot escape through the sky. The barrier is shaped like an overturned bowl, a type unique to Ban’s family.

Urihime: If we want to break it—— I hate to say it, but perhaps we can ask that clan head— Sasago: *shudder!* Urihime: What’s wrong, Sasago? Sasago: —Nothing, it’s just, I saw something pass under us.

Sasago: ——It’s an eerie village. Urihime: You think so? Do you feel something from this empty land? Sasago: I do, however… When I try to find their presence, somehow… There’s something that makes me feel uneasy———

Back to Natsume’s group, they are all making their way towards the workshop when Matoba decides to split from the group.

Matoba: ——There’s a warehouse in this direction, isn’t there? I’ll part here. Natori: Matoba-san! You can’t just enter them however you want———

Matoba leaves anyway, leaving the rest to continue towards the workshop. Things are strangely quiet around them, as Natsume slowly evaluates the dilapidated state of the village, and how only one person — the potter, “Tomuro” — is living in it now.

Natsume: …Isn’t he afraid? (Isn’t he lonely——?) Nyanko: ——…

Nyanko: Hop! Natsume: WHA-...!? Nyanko: Natsume, you head on with the other brats. *dash* Natsume: Oi, Sensei-...

Seeing how the figure of Sensei running away matches with that in his dream, Natsume chases after him. He comes to a house, and sees Tomuro lying unconscious.

Natsume: (The potter is in a place like this!) Are you alright!?

Natsume: Ah! Hey, Sensei. What are you doing? We even told you that you’re being targeted… Thank goodness you’re alright… *hug…* Nyanko?: ——…

Natori and Hiiragi catch up to him, and they determine that Tomuro was caught under a sleeping spell. They agree that it might be safest to bring him to their hideout, since it dispels ayakashi.

Natori: ——By the way, Natsume. Right now, is the Book of Friends… Natsume: ——I brought it with me… Natori: …I see. I’m sorry. Even though it was for an emergency, I ended up bringing a dangerous person along. Since we are going against Ban, I needed Matoba’s advice no matter what…………… ——Natsume, since Matoba and… Ban, are both focused on Sensei, you must make sure that they don’t take notice of that. Natsume: ———… Yes.

Natsume: Haaaah… Natori: ———What’s wrong? Natsume: Nothing. I just thought it was a good thing I told you about the Book of Friends—— I can’t tell people about it carelessly… And I intend to continue keeping it a secret from here on. But whatever happens…… I thought I should let you know about it, Natori-san—— Natori: ——…

Natori: Is the Book of Friends… heavy? Natsume: Yes. It’s my treasure.

They begin heading back to their hideout, with Tomuro in tow. Matoba returns right at that moment, with books and scrolls under his arms.

Natori: Matoba-san! What’s with those items!? Matoba: There were so many interesting books, I couldn’t help myself. Don’t worry, I’ll return them soon. ——Oh my. Natsume-kun, what happened with him? Natsume: Huh?

Matoba: Who is that cat you have with you?

Natsume: Huh? What do you mean? It’s Nyanko-sensei… Nyanko: *rustle* I’ve kept you waiting! There were some rare mountain grapes in the back…

Everyone: WAAAH—————!!? Nyanko: Who in the world is that!? Natsume: !? Why are there two Nyanko-senseis!? Ah!

The fake Nyanko-sensei leaps out of Natsume’s arm, when Natsume spots a missing piece from its back. Nyanko-sensei tells Natsume to chase after his impostor, and they find themselves in a house, where the fake Sensei slips into a room. Natsume and Nyanko-sensei dash in.

Nyanko: Natsume, above!

[OMG LOLOL]

Natsume and Nyanko-sensei scream, scaring all the cats away. When Natori and Hiiragi finally reach them, both of them are in so much shock that they can’t even form coherent words.

Back at their hideout, Tomuro wakes up and sees them sitting around him.

Tomuro: …Are you exorcists? Natori: ———……… Matoba: Yes, it’s amazing you could tell.

Tomuro, in a delirium, explains that only exorcists would visit this village. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the power to create exorcism tools, and that, as they can see, there’s no longer anything left.

Matoba: ——But it seems like you have quite a few cats. Tomuro: ...Cats? Ah… That brings back memories… Indeed, there was a period of time in the past where vessels, used as cursed tools, were made in the shape of fortune cats. However, it turned out to be much too powerful of a tool, so they stopped selling them. I heard that they were sealed in a warehouse on this land. However, a long time ago, a huge fire consumed the contents of that warehouse, and not a single one remained. I have never seen it outside of the catalog, so I’m afraid I can’t sell it to you either.

Natsume realizes that the black Nyanko vessel that Riou was sealed in was probably made here. And, likewise, Nyanko-sensei’s fortune cat form was also made here…

Tomuro continues by saying that the village has nothing but a potter who is only able to make commonplace pottery, and implores them to leave. He immediately falls asleep after finishing his words.

Natori notices Natsume looking thoughtful, and asks if he is alright. Natsume explains that he recalled what Ban had told him back at the workshop… “I also want that, which you have.”

Matoba: ——I see. It seems like Ban wants every single one of them. All the cats that are hiding in this village———

Urihime and Sasago continue their investigation in the forest.

Urihime: So this is where you sense that presence to be? It’s no good. We can’t find anything.

Urihime: Perhaps we should head back to where our master is. Sasago: Indeed. Meanwhile, it’s likely that there’s another… Urihime: ——… Sasago…?

Back at the hideout…

Natori: ——So that means, Ban also noticed the group of cats that Natsume saw… Natsume: Just who…… could those cats be? Are they like Sensei, with something sealed inside each of them…? (If that’s the case, why would they all be at the village…?)

Matoba: Well, whoever they might be, it wouldn’t matter to Ban. Natsume: Huh? Matoba: We told you, didn’t we? The Collector of exorcism tools that he is working for, couldn’t care less what is inside.

Something moves behind them, causing Natsume and Natori to flinch. They turn around, only to see that Tomuro has disappeared. Searching for where the sound might’ve come from, they run downstairs, and there—

[Every single part of this arc is just gonna end on a cliffhanger, isn’t it? God dammit Midorikawa-sensei!]

“Village of the Sleeping Vessel” TO BE CONTINUED

[letswritefanfiction]

Lost in Halloweenia! Ch2

Crosspost from ffnet and AO3.

Summary: It's Halloween! Ash and the gang are living it up trick or treating when they stumble upon a strange house with some strange artifacts. What mysteries do they hold and…wait, who are those three lurking behind them?

Word Count: 2,955/27,343

Previous chapter here

Next chapter here

Chapter 2: Abra Kadabra

Last time, Ash and co. discovered a mysterious house while trick or treating on Halloween night. But they were the ones who ended up getting tricked when they were sucked into a magical egg!  The only question is: where are they now?

“Ugh…Are you guys okay?”

“Me and Togepi are okay. Ash?”

“We’re fine!”

“Pika!”

“Now, where are we?”

The gang found themselves in a space very different than the one they’d just been transported from. At least, they could only assume that they’d been transported.

Just like the creepy old house, there were many strange objects, screaming of Halloween. But that’s where the similarities ended. They were in an enormous cave or sorts made entirely of smooth, gray stone and wood, like large pieces of patchwork. It was dark, the only light in the space coming from strangely illuminated plants. But that wasn’t all…

“Guys, is that staircase floating?”

“I don’t know; why is that jack-o-lantern changing size?”

“Is it just me or does gravity not seem to exist?”

“Then why aren’t we floating away?”

“Pi pikachu.”

“Priiii!”

“Okay!” Brock threw his hands up into the air and quieted everyone’s chatter as they continued to look around at the strange world they’d found themselves in. “Obviously we’re not in Johto anymore. Or, if we are, we’re certainly not anywhere I’ve heard of before. Now, strange angles aside, this seems to be a hallway, so I say we just walk and see where we come out.”

Ash nodded. “Good idea, Brock.”

Misty only rolled her eyes. “Sure, because that worked out so well for us before.”

Still, the three of them began walking forward. Or, if not forward, at the very least they were walking in a direction…possibly.

As they walked, the sights they spotted grew stranger and stranger. There were enormous trees with twisted roots above ground, even though it seemed for all the world like they were inside. Worse for Misty, it seemed as though there were all kinds of creepy crawlies living inside the strange plants. And the sounds they’d heard in the house had nothing on the eerie hoots and screeches echoing through the strange chamber.

“Guys, I don’t like this,” Misty said as a cold draft blew, heaving shivers through her. “Do you think we’re getting closer to the exit?”

“Either that or closer to the center,” Brock said, providing Misty with no comfort.

“Come on, Mist, it’s Halloween! You should be up for a little bit of spookiness.”

Misty cast about, holding Togepi a little tighter to her chest. “This is more than a little.”

“Who goes there?”

The gang froze all at once, backing into each other with wide eyes. After a moment’s silence, Brock and Misty prodded at Ash’s back. “Say something!” Misty hissed.

Ash trembled a little, gulping as his throat seemed to try and escape his body via his mouth. “Uh, we do!”

“Ash!”

“I-I mean, hi! We’re a little lost! Can you help us?”

The silence stretched into forever while no one, save for Togepi, took so much as a breath. Then, all at once, a being appeared before them as if from nothing. “Hello.”

Everyone, save for Togepi, jumped into the air, screaming before making a break for it and heading back in the other direction. Then, before any of them knew what had happened, they froze mid-step, unable to so much as twitch an eyebrow.

“I’m here to help you.”

As if by some supernatural mechanism, all of them were forced to turn around, still frozen in a strange, purple haze. They were faced with an Alakazam, who had his two spoons raised up at them. After a moment, he lowered the spoons and feeling returned to the gang’s bodies. Everyone took a few heaving breaths and Pikachu shook himself like a wet dog, shooting a little bit of static through his fur to wake up his tingling muscles.

Meanwhile, the humans looked at the Alakazam in confusion.

“You’re lucky I’m the one who’s here to find you,” he stated flatly. “The usual gatekeeper is taking Halloween off and isn’t nearly as nice as I am. My name is Mantar.”

“Hi, uh, Mantar. Are you using telepathy to talk to us?” Brock asked

Mantar narrowed his eyes. “No. Don’t you see my mouth moving?”

“He’s the nice one?” Misty whispered to Ash.

“I think we’re really lucky we didn’t meet the mean one,” Ash whispered back. Then, he shook his head in realization and said at a normal volume, “Wait, you can talk?”

Mantar fell over. Then he looked at Ash as though he was the world’s dimmest Psyduck. “Yes, I can talk!” He shook his head as he muttered to himself, “Humans.”

“Um, excuse me?” Misty said brightly, putting on a cheerful smile as she looked at Mantar. “Do you think you can help us get out of here?”

“Get out of here? Yes. Get you back home? No.”

Ash’s eyes widened; Pikachu hopped onto his shoulder to share his sentiment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that we’re inside a portal right now between your world and my world. They only work one way. And this one happens to go from yours to mine and today I’m the gatekeeper. I can take you to my world, and from there we’ll have to find a portal leading back to yours.”

“Okay, sounds simple enough,” Ash stated. “So let’s go.”

Mantar scoffed as he led the group to continue walking down the cave, reaching a sideways staircase. Everyone let out a gasp when they didn’t seem to fall and their center of gravity just shifted with the landscape. Beyond were more spooky objects doing even spookier things. None were particularly scary, though, save for the plentitude of bugs. Misty kept her hands up to her face like blinders and looked at nothing past Mantar’s back.

“Right. By the way, I should tell you that people won’t take too kindly to your appearances. If you’re found out to be human, you’ll be jailed.”

“Jailed!” Misty exclaimed. “For what? We didn’t do anything!”

“You came here,” Mantar stated. “That’s enough. You’re compromising our safety.”

“Compromising your safety?” Brock asked in disbelief. “We’re only trying to get home.” He brushed away a fake bat that was hanging from a string from the ceiling or roof—it was too shrouded in dark to tell which.

“Your Pokémon are even more misfortunate than you,” Mantar continued, ignoring Brock.

“What do you mean?” Ash asked warily, putting a hand on Pikachu’s back. Misty also held Togepi closer to her chest.

“They’ll likely be stolen.”

Ash laughed. “Oh, we deal with people trying to steal our Pokémon every day.”

Mantar laughed too, but with a much more menacing undertone. “You know not what you deal with.”

“So what do we do?” Misty asked Mantar, worried for her Togepi’s safety.

“Hide them in your capturing devices. You have those, yes?”

Misty and Ash looked at each other worriedly. “I can hide Togepi in my bag,” Misty offered.

Mantar looked at how small Togepi was and nodded. “I suppose that shall do for the Fairy.” He then turned to Ash.

Ash was looking at Pikachu, who was frowning uncertainly. “Whaddya say, buddy? Can you do the PokéBall just this once?”

Pikachu shook his head. “Pi. Kachu.”

“I’m sorry, Mantar,” Ash said, accepting Pikachu’s decision. “I can’t do that.”

Mantar sighed. “Then disguises will be necessary.”

Ash looked around at everyone’s costumes. “But it’s Halloween! We’re already in disguises.” Ash barred his new fangs and flapped his cape, as did Pikachu.

“Well, lucky for you, it’s Halloween for us too. But we need a disguise, not a costume.”

By that point, they’d walked quite some ways, but everything looked just as much like a 3D puzzle as it had before. Nevertheless, Mantar stopped and looked around before nodding to himself.

“This is a good spot.”

Everyone else looked around as well, not seeing whatever it was that Mantar seemed to.

“Good spot for what?” Brock asked.

Mantar didn’t respond, simply lifting his spoons as his body and everyone else’s took on a holy white glow.

“Teleportation!”

And everyone disappeared with a flash and a gasp.

“Oh, please don’t let this be a dream!”

“Or if it is a dream, don’t make me wake up!”

“You two can wake up any time ya want; I’m gonna keep eating dis candy!”

Jessie, James, and Meowth were gobbling up all the candy in sight, barely stopping to breathe, much less chew. They had stumbled upon a stash of candy of mythical proportions in a seemingly abandoned house, that had the front door left wide open. It was as if they had been invited in to finish up all of the candy that the trick or treaters had missed.

Currently, they were on their hands and knees with the bowl in between the three of them, debris from the inedible bits strewn carelessly about.

Suddenly, a howl was heard outside. It was enough to tear a yowl from Meowth, who sprang up and landed on Jessie’s head, tearing his claws through her long red hair.

“Get off of me, you mangy fur-ball! You’re ruining my hair!” Jessie managed to shout—or rather, spit—through a mouthful of half-eaten candy.

Jessie all but threw Meowth to the ground when another howl came from outside, this time with a strong breeze to accompany it, blowing out the nearly-melted candles remaining on the candelabra.

Everyone shrieked, collectively gauging their priorities and grabbing the candy bowl before running further into the house, out of the dark. They paused to catch their breaths, indigestion coming up on them rapidly what with all the candies that were now somewhere between their mouths and their stomachs.

“That,” James heaved, “was unnecessary.”

“I just don’t like tings dat howl,” Meowth defended himself.

Jessie was the first one to collect herself, unfolding her doubled-over body and taking a look around the room they’d found themselves in. “Did either of you notice how strange this place is?”

James and Meowth followed Jessie’s lead and looked as far as they could see in the dim candlelight.

“There’s Halloween stuff everywhere,” James pointed out. “Even here in the house where no one could possibly see it.”

Meowth was at eye-level with the statue of a Houndoom with ruby-like gemstones for eyes. “Well, I don’t like it.”

“I bet some of this stuff is pretty valuable.” Jessie balanced the candy bowl on her hip with one arm as she put a thoughtful finger to her chin. “Out of all of this junk something is bound to be antique, or at least well-designed.”

James eyed a witch who had run into the wall, so only her back side was visible. She was atrociously dressed. “Maybe not.”

“It can’t hurt to look,” Jessie said, walking into the next room as she tossed another piece of candy into her mouth. “The owner can’t mind if one or two pieces go missing.”

The trio eventually found themselves at a creaky, wooden set of stairs with a spiky, wrought iron hand rail.

“Wow, look at all dis junk!”

The upstairs room had no furniture to speak of, or if it did, it was completely covered by the strange novelty objects of downstairs, but now so abundant they seemed to be forming an army.

“I don’t know. This is nice.” Jessie held up a large, feather fan and began fanning herself with it.

“Very glamorous,” James agreed.

“Holy cow, look at dis!” Meowth had hopped over some objects and made it further into the huge room where a dull red glow stood out from the dark. “Dis hasta be valuable!”

“Ooh, I bet it is!” Jessie said, her eyes wide and glittering. “Lemme touch it!”

“No, I’m da one who found it!”

“Come here, little eggy-poo, Uncle James will take good care of you.”

James reached right over Meowth and plucked up the egg, examining it for just a second before his hands began to seep into it.

“W-What’s happening?”

“James?”

“Jimmy?”

Jessie lunged for James as he quickly began to get sucked into the egg, and Meowth hastily grabbed on to Jessie’s hair before she, too, vanished.

“Team Rocket’s being pulled away again!”

“That should do for now.”

Mantar had teleported the gang straight into his own house, where he had begun taking care of their disguises. The house was essentially a small log cabin, and the entire space was about practicality. There was a small kitchen, bathroom, and a bed, and that was just about it. Very barren in comparison to the strange portal they’d just left.

The finishing touch for the disguises was to use Hypnosis on Togepi, which Mantar did before promptly returning it to Misty’s bag, where it could hopefully sleep peacefully for the rest of the evening until they managed to return home.

“Aw, Pikachu’s so cute!” Misty cooed as she reached to pick Pikachu up. Except that Pikachu wasn’t a Pikachu anymore; he was a Pokémon called a Pumpkaboo. Mantar had cast a spell, temporarily giving Pikachu almost the face of a plush bat, stuffed into a hollow jack-o-lantern.

“Pika!” he cheered, enjoying his round new form.

“Yeah, a lot cuter than you look, Misty,” Ash said as he stole Pika-boo back. “You look like Frankenstein.”

Ash didn’t even see the mallet coming. He was on the ground with birds swirling around his head, which was now forming a healthy lump.

“For your information, Ash Ketchum, I am not green, and you don’t look any better!”

“He actually looks a little worse with that lump on his head,” Brock whispered to Mantar, who nodded in response.

Ash had a point, though. Mantar had painted stitches onto Ash, Misty, and Brock’s skin so that they would look like they were wearing human costumes. Small darts sketched on the angles of their body, like their necks and their shoulders, where the seams in a costume would be. Apparently dressing up as a human was a very popular look on Halloween. They had also since returned to their normal clothes, because there was no use wearing a costume over a “costume.”

“So, explain this to me, Mantar,” Brock started. “Why is it okay for Pikachu to be a Pumpkaboo, but not a Pikachu?”

“Obviously there are Pokémon here.” Mantar gestured to himself as he put the paints and makeup back into his small closet. “But only certain Pokémon. We don’t have as abundant a variety as do you. We have a plentitude of Dark, Ghost, Poison, and Bug Types.”

“B-Bug Types?” Misty squeaked.

“Yes. There are some that are rarer, like Psychic or Fairy and other exceptions. But the sight of something like an Electric Type would clue people into the fact that the portal has been breached.”

“Why wouldn’t people just assume that Pikachu is another exception?” Ash asked, after peeling himself from up off the floor.

Mantar sighed. “Because Pokémon from the outside that don’t suit our Typings lose that Element after a while here.”

“What?” Ash grabbed Pika-boo and held him protectively, both of their expressions creased with concern.

“Slowly but surely, your Pikachu will lose his Electric Typing and will likely start to take on the qualities of another Type. Usually Dark. It’s probably already happening,” Mantar informed them regretfully. “His appearance might even change, becoming black to suit the creatures of this land.”

“The creatures of this land? But you still look like any Alakazam I’ve ever seen,” Ash stated.

Mantar shook his head. “Maybe you’ll just have to see for yourselves.”

He pushed the front door open and immediately the loud ruckus from outside came flooding in. The world was dark with nighttime, but there were flashing lights everywhere, mostly white and orange. Music was blaring songs that made you want to dance and the smell of food was pervasive.

In short: the whole world was a party.

Alakazam began leading them straight into the fray and Ash, Misty, Brock, and Pika-boo just looked around in awe. It was a party, alright, but everything absolutely screamed Halloween. None, more so than the people—or creatures, rather—in attendance.

There, behaving just like humans, were Golbat, Murkrow, Gengar, Gothita, Dustox, Sigilyph, and so many more. Just like Mantar, they could converse, and were doing so over snacks and punch, laughing raucously with good humor. Misty let out a shriek at the sight of a Galvantula breaking it down on with his many legs the dance floor, but Ash quickly clamped a hand over her mouth and pushed her gaze away. The other direction, they saw a black Glameow walking along, dressed in a tuxedo.

“Oh, so that’s what you meant,” Ash muttered.

Stranger than the Pokémon, though, were the other attendees, far from anything the gang had ever witnessed in their world.

There were goblins, trolls, witches, zombies, skeletons—things that should have just been costumes, come to life.

Brock’s eyes popped out of his head when he spotted a girl with long, black hair that flowed down to her waist and sleepy brown eyes. “Wow, look at her!”

Mantar murmured, “Just you wait.”

Not a moment later, the girl turned around and the other half of her face was that of a zombie. “Gah!” Brock shouted as he stumbled back.

Mantar smirked.

“Welcome to Halloweenia.”

After having been teleported from their world, Ash and friends find themselves in the strange land of Halloweenia with little clue as to how to get back home! Donning their new disguises, they go out in search of a mysterious portal. Will they find one? Tune in next time for more adventures in Halloweenia!

[sparda3g]

Attack on Titan Chapter 126 Review

The apocalypse is here; slowly expanding across the globe. All hell breaks loose, and everyone is either celebrating or crying. The past chapters have been depressing albeit stellar and very interesting in content delivery. You would think the trend would continue forward with the end of the world at sight. Surprisingly, this chapter was more light-hearted and entertaining with some laughs. This was a welcoming treat.

It’s not all sunshine and rainbow however. There are some dark tones in this chapter as well. From the start, it enters a flashback prior to the event where Hange confronts Marleyians. In her time spent protecting Levi, she was forced to kill some Survey Corps members. It could have been a simple protection scene, but the added tear running down on her face made it impacting. It’s sad that it has to go down this way. As crazy she can be, she still holds a soft spot for them.

Supposedly, Levi was set to transform into a Titan; however, because he’s an Ackerman, he survived. Same for the injuries. Does that mean the syringe won’t work on him? I always like their comradery. Hange treated his wounds, stitched him up, which needless to say looked pretty rough. His fingers are lost, which is more troubling due to the necessary use for the gear. How he’s going to fight would be interesting to see when that time comes.

Hange has been struggling for quite some time. Now, the future seem to be set for them that reminisce a similar path as Uprising Arc. In other words, they’re criminals or outlaws. The best thing they can do is count on Pixis, who is now deceased, and Armin, who has recently left to search for Falco. You can sense defeat from Hange, and that’s sad.

I like the small consistent detail on the sequence. Everything happened before the Rumbling began. The moment when they were in PATHS is when you learn their decision was made that led to the last chapter’s ending. Levi woke up and the first thing he thought was to find Zeke and kill him. That’s a hell of a dedication. I admit, I laughed at that.

He was able to survive the blast by placing the sword in front of the explosion. That explains the fingers. Although his vengeance on Zeke is his personal goal, he asked if running and hiding was all they will do. Pretty much, he listened everything Hange said. Despite the struggling, she wasn’t going to stay out and Levi knows that all too well. Again, I like their companionship. It’s more needed than ever.

Shifting back to present, in a strange turn of event, Levi and Magath’s interest happen to align. Both share a similar goal to kill Zeke, so in theory, it’s enough reason to form a pact. Magath is doubtful, seeing him in a bad state. Even Levi admits to be in a weak state that he can’t dodge a bullet, but he is willing to give him an ultimatum. That’s when you know desperate time calls for desperate measure.

Hange doesn’t know much of Founding Titan, but it’s easy to say it’s going to be incredibly tough. Therefore, the simple solution is to form a pact. With the world ending, they might as well work under one mission. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Otherwise, everyone is guaranteed to die, aside from Paradis Island.

It’s a bit eerie to see people sleeping during the apocalypse. It’s not to say no one should be sleeping, but how one can sleep when they know the world is ending. Some are seen to be awake. Jean looks so depressed at everything. Mikasa can’t fathom Eren to be the one to end everything. Annie wonders if her father is safe. Reiner is still down and out. It’s kind of depressing. Armin and Gabi are still searching for Connie and Falco, which is the next focus.

While I don’t like Connie’s action to use Falco to save his mother, I still respect him, especially when he now have second thoughts on the matter. His target is set, but the guilt is beginning to haunt him. He’s not a bad guy; just a poor soul that was sent to a hellish environment. I pity him. Asking Sasha makes it worse. Her death really stung him. The loss of a best friend can make a man feel lonely. Once they arrive at Ragako Village, the tension rises.

As they draw closer to the destination, Falco quickly realizes what’s happening. I’m surprised that he caught on quick, though I like the fact he’s not so careless. He’s well aware of the situation; from Gabi killing Sasha to Connie pretending to be a friend. It would have been easier if Falco remained clueless. Instead, it only added more pressure.

Connie’s mother is still in the same place for years. I can’t imagine the feeling of unable to move at all. The sensation plays off like a horror film, where a stranger (Connie) is about to harm the innocent (Falco). Hilariously, Connie puts a horrible poker face on and tells him to brush a Titan’s teeth. It’s so random, it’s hilarious. It’s like a spoof writer wrote this. Still, Connie’s intention is set and he won’t back off.

Armin and Gabi arrive in time to stop Connie. Falco doesn’t know he’s a Jaw Titan or what happened to Porco. Connie is completely desperate to save his only family; won’t listen to what Armin has to say. It saves the time from saying typical lines about what’s right and wrong. Even so, it’s pity for Connie to what essentially forced him to stoop this low. It’s not like he’s a real douche; just lost in the matter.

Armin has no word to say. Remembering the integrity of Erwin, he recovers and goes for a literal suicide approach. Before Connie finish climbing, Armin reaches on the ledge, contemplating the action he’s about to do. The scene rapidly grow unnerving. The fact he’s actually going to suicide to calm the situation is disheartening. I actually like this because it’s two guys who basically hit rock bottom confronting. In a twisted way, it’s like seeing who can hit the lowest first. Fortunately, Connie won’t let it happen; saving Armin from fulfilling his dream.

Gabi and Falco are back together, but it must be hard for him to learn what happened, especially his older brother. That even stings me. Connie has a second thought. It’s best to not make his mother into a weapon. Most importantly, it’s best for him to remain as a soldier his mother wanted him to be, not as a backstabber. Therefore, he wants to return and save people. It’s a good heartfelt moment. I don’t know if Armin’s mind is straight again, but Connie looks to be back to normal. Only time will tell.

The mystery of the missing scarf ends here. It was Louise and sadly, according to her, she’s on her literal death bed. Mikasa had a hunch that it was her. I appreciate the characters not playing dumb or rather, not bright enough to think the likely possibilities. Louise only wore it because she truly admired Mikasa. I have to say, it’s a little sad to see her dying. She does have a history as a kid who witnessed a role model.

The real interesting piece lies from the moment before she took it herself. She spoke to Eren about Mikasa, but his response was to get rid of the scarf. I’m still perplexed on why he’s so hell-bent to break all ties with her. I know there’s a lot more going on that is not on display. The closest we got is during his time in the memory trip. Something is definitely up. Mikasa takes it back and leaves her alone. Kind of sad for her last day to be alone without her idol. This series isn’t kind to anyone.

The army of Colossal Titans is almost gone, so it’s time for the Yeagerists to celebrate the supreme victory. Quite the disgusting nature of people all cool about destroying the world. It gets more disgusting when you learn Floch is the representative. His death must be gloriously satisfying for enduring his crap. Jean is depressing to look at. You can tell he’s lost in this cruel world.

The next scene is pretty hilarious. Armin and others arrive at the feast. While the kids eat, Armin and Connie discuss about Annie’s possible return. It just so happens that next to them, Annie was casually eating a slice of pie. They all look at her like their mind couldn’t register her existence. I can’t blame them when she has a silly face. Never would I expect this is the way they would reunite. Next to the famous betrayal scene, this is Isayama-sensei’s way to get to the point, now done in a humorous way. Four years later and her first move in the reunion is gobbling down a pie. Definitely didn’t see it coming.

I did enjoy Hitch and Annie hanging out in the last chapter, but sadly, it has to end. Annie left with others with a letter for Hitch. It’s basically a thank you message, but coming from her, it’s special. She may be cold outside, but she does have a heart. The message speaks out her gratitude for Hitch’s action; saying goodbye for one last time. It’s sweet that the panel doesn’t show Hitch’s reaction, but you can draw an idea that she was touched by Annie’s message. A shame that it ended here, but the friendship won’t be forgotten.

The sensation returns to crap when the scene shift back to Floch and his regime. It is execution time, and the criminals are Yelena and Onyankopon. Executing them will grant them the reign over the island; at least according to Floch, but the man is a whack job anyway. He calls Yelena out on her crimes; marking her as the worst criminal ever. The spouting nonsense from citizens paint them as racists, vile creatures. Who needs Titans to cause destruction when you have human. Yelena is out of her mind; she is waiting to get shot to get it over with. I’m beginning to feel a little sympathy for her. If that is the case, then Floch is doing something right.

The calling on Onyankopon’s crimes frustrate me a lot. He will be executed because he doesn’t want to work with them. The worst part is, his past actions were only for the sake of everyone. He thought he was helping his homeland as well as theirs, and this is how they would repay him? Pathetic. The series did a good job to keep his hands clean. While I can understand the reason to execute Yelena, his is unwarranted. I felt generally bad when he cries out; expressing his frustrations on everything. He’s a simple man who wanted peace one way or another. It feels rather close to home; that’s life for you.

Jean is his executioner, preparing to shoot him. Earlier, he looked like a shell of his former self. That contribute to this moment to give fans an impression that he has stoop this low to execute an innocent man; at least compare to everyone there. He shoots four times, but miss. He looks so out of it, I would have bought the idea of him completely disarray from life itself. Floch is sadly not a fool to notice something is odd. Well, forget about that, because Cart Titan appears out of nowhere and start attacking. Talk about real-time event.

It goes after Floch; soon, Pieck will become the best character ever. Sadly, Jean will become the worst for saving his life. Even in death, I will be upset. However, it’s all part of the plan. The attack wasn’t intended to kill Floch, though I would have been all in. Coincidentally, it ate Yelena and Onyankopon as well. It’s a ruse to escort them and Jean out of there and group up with others. The four shots was a code to continue the operation. It would have been funny if he was a lousy shooter, but this is neat nonetheless.

Mikasa is with Armin and others. I’ll talk about the pacing later. They’re stealing the supplies from the Yeagerists, or more like taking them back. Before departure, someone looks outside from the window and only Annie notices. I’m not sure where this lead to, but I doubt it is Zeke. It could be possible, but why would he be there though? It could be Shadis, though again, not sure the ploy behind this silhouette mystery.

As previously stated, Cart Titan escorted Jean and the two out of there. I laughed at Hange’s insult on Pieck and the Titan’s hygiene. I suppose the punchline is Titan’s teeth. The twist is, Jean has turned to their side since last night. He could have stay with the Yeagerists, even if it’s with the king of douche. Hell, he could have locked himself inside; ignoring everything. But his heart told him to never forget the fallen. A grim reminder is to remember the ashes. He’s slowly recovering, so hope for the best. Saving Onyankopon is a good start.

Surprisingly, Yelena was spared as well. It was only because of Magath’s request. Plus, they want her alive for some reason. Perhaps it’s to obtain Intel on Zeke’s whereabouts since she has a connection. There could be a personal reason, but we’ll see where this lead to. All in all, the faction is growing; only one is missing.

Reiner is still sleeping; supposedly for another 2 or 3 days. That won’t do, so Annie does the favor by kicking him hard. That’s funny and so in-character of her to do something like that. Imagine waking up to see an old friend that was crystallized for four years. Imagine waking up to see two opposing forces unite. That’s Reiner in the nutshell. I bet he was hoping to wake up when everyone is dead.

Connie, now with a newly determined face, sets the record straight and tell him to get ready. Their mission: to save the world. Only he would phrase it the way it sounded; straight-up heroic. This is written by a guy who used the magazine cover to draw a meme reference with his characters. It wouldn’t surprise me if that’s the case. All it was missing was the theme song playing.

Before closing the review, as much as I enjoyed this chapter, the only issue I have is the pacing. It’s a weird feeling because when I read it the second time, it felt natural. However, it feels fast when compare to other chapters. In a weird sense, it’s too fast for this series while another would feel right. The part with Armin and Connie could use two or more pages to conclude. The rest, I believe it would be explained in the next couple of chapters. Supposedly, this is the last chapter of a volume. The intention was probably to end strong and leave the explanation later. This is how the series roll sometimes, so don’t be surprised if that’s the case. Regardless, it was fast, but no time for minor stuff I suppose.

Overall, I thought this was a pretty entertaining chapter. It’s different in tone in compare, but delivered a good quality content. It doesn’t hurt to lighten up. We have an apocalypse already; we don’t have to go deeper into the abyss. There were plenty of good light-hearted moments. As quick as the pacing was, the moments were felt and certain mysteries continue to pique my interest. Everyone is coming together to prevent the massacre. Recalling the audio from the event, it won’t be simple. For all we know, this could be the last bright spot. Hopefully not, but you never know.

[doughyduo]

¥ with summer winding down, might be time for Hana to do one last big ice cream binge for the sake of beating the heat!

“Hmm...I can’t believe I never actually did one of those! I guess it’ll have to be really big to make up for that.~”

After nearly an hour of waiting in chat, watching the numbers on DVa’s stream tick down as bunnies expanded and shrunk on the corners of the screen, bits of bubblegum doing so in tandem with them, you had wondered what the impromptu stream would be this time. Maybe something about her drawing up plans for Halloween or Fall sets with chat, teasing what they would be, showing off an outfit that she has planned, or a variety of other things. As the time ticked down to reach 00:00, your mind raced with possibilities, Hana saying it would be her most fun stream in the recent months. As it finally did hit 00:00, a small chibi figure of Hana appeared on screen, bloating up rapidly until she filled the entire thing.

Filling the screen, Hana rolled from side to side, her blubbery hips wobbling in the shade of her umbrella on the beach. On two towels, one pink and one blue, she giggled as she gave a small wave, taking a small break from the tiny cup of ice cream she had to greet her chat. “Oh hey everyone!~ I just wanted to let everyone know I was streaming soon because I wanted my last trip to the beach to be the most fun one. I figured I’d let all you guys in on the fun, too, so I made sure to go really all out on it all!~” Smiling wide, her chubby cheeks bouncing as she set her ice cream on the sand, she pat her bare, slightly-tanned thighs with her pudgy hands, running them across the miles of fat that covered them before reaching under them and pulling them up, wanting to ensure that she filled and spilled out the two towels. Patting her belly as well, the double-rolled glob of dough going to mid-thigh even as she leaned back, Hana jiggled it softly before she began speaking again. “I know all you have been asking for another big stuffing session because I haven’t done one in a while, and I thought you were all right. It’s not fair to leave you all wondering how much I can eat after I hit seven hundred and fifty pounds, is it?~” Sliding a hand under the bottom roll of her gut, she planted her other hand behind her, letting her hammy arm wobble lightly as it settled and kept her upright. With her other hand caressing the underside of her belly, she moved her plump fingers out to the side of her gut, grabbing it and lifting it momentarily, then letting it drop onto her thighs once more, a meaty slap making her smile and hum softly.

“Soo...with the recent heat waves lately, I thought maybe I should do something to cool off. It’s just too hot for a girl like me, I’m surprised I haven’t melted yet. As a true butterball, that’s a real worry I have a lot of the time. I wouldn’t want to be stuck here on the beach, begging for help as I struggled to get up, sweating grease and huffing up at you, would I? Just imagine the cost of getting a crane out here to take cool me off in the ocean before a truck comes to take this whale home.~” Giggling again, she flipped some strands of hair over her shoulder, winking quickly after. With her free hand, she began fanning her face, sending her breasts into a rhythmic bouncing, her belly wobbling, and her tubby forearm quaking. “So I decided it would be better to just go to a store, buy all the ice cream I could, and just leave it to the truck instead of the crane. I could probably help with the heatwave after that, letting people snuggle up to my cold, gurgling belly after eating dozens and dozens of gallons of chocolate, vanilla, strawberry...~ I bet I could help cool off at least...two dozen people with how big my belly will be after all of this. It’s a shame none of you are here to test that...~” Giggling again, Hana took a moment to wobble across the screen, twisting and leaning over her tremendous gut, grunting and groaning as she struggled to reach off screen. After a few moments of obvious struggle, a hand reached over to give her a gallon bowl of ice cream, to which she thanked them in Korean and settled back on her towels. With some sand under her thighs and her towels disheveled, she placed the ice cream in her boobs, shivering softly from the heat transforming to sudden cold. In another fit of unstoppable wobbles, the gelatin mold of a girl was handed an ice cream scoop, two which she thanked them again, popping off the top of the ice cream container and tossing it aside.

As a hyper-obese girl, far past the standards of obesity that any one could give, she was sure she could handle it. She’d surely had worse.

So, a multi-hour feast had begun, aided by an unknown figure that handed her more ice cream whenever she had licked the previous tub dry. A little talking and teasing here and there went on, mainly about how she wished you were there to help her get through the painful task of lifting her heavy arms up over and over again to eat the sweet, delicious ice cream, but most of it was filled with her gobbling down the sweet treat. Entire gallons of ice cream disappeared within minutes, the ice cream scoop being filled and then emptied into her mouth with one single bite, making her rabbit motif seem outdated, needing to be replaced by a pig. Dribbles of melted ice cream would get between her watermelon-sized breasts, dribbling down the rolls of her belly as she devoured gallon after gallon, only to be wiped up and licked off of her sausage fingers every couple of times she replaced her ice cream. An hour in, and she was still going, her burps and breaks for air getting more frequent, her belly growing redder despite being in the shade, and belly rubs from herself becoming more frequent. Every now and then, she would stop her eating to squeeze her gut with both hands, pressing down as hard as she could to get big burps out, but that only made how full she was getting more and more obvious; the first time, her hands had practically disappeared into caverns of adipose, emerging moments later after a hearty, raunchy belch that was followed by a soft giggle. By the second hour mark, her hands barely squished into her gut, only half of her porky hands squishing in. Despite the obvious fullness, she pressed on, her speed only decreasing slightly as she continued to eat, and eat, and eat, and eat...

By three hours in, the sun had begun to set, and Hana’s appetite was almost at its limits. Surrounded by ice cream containers and with her belly looking like a mosaic made by ice cream, she was huffing and panting, belching between mouthfuls, and groaning. Mumbles came out in Korean as she pushed herself to eat more, to fill herself until she couldn’t anymore, to really push boundaries and to set records. Surely she had to have eaten nearly a hundred pounds of ice cream after hours and hours of eating, making her belly rise higher and higher up, as well as further and further out, covering her knees and touching her shins by the time the sun began to set. Huffing and puffing, she was handed the final container, doing her best to power through it with flushed, sweating chubby cheeks, groaning between slow, heavy bites.

With one final gulp, covered in ice cream and containers, Hana groaned as she dropped the frigid ice cream scoop onto her engorged, burgeoning belly, dropping onto her back with a groan. Slow, heavy breaths could be heard as her gut softly rose and fell, the height of it extending up to a few feet, almost as tall as she was when she had been sitting straight up. A hand, covered in a mix of brown, white, and red ice cream, slowly went up to the side of her gut, patting it and making small circles as she moaned and groaned, unable to move without causing extreme pain, or letting out belches that would send her into a flurry of deafening expulsions.

“Aah...hah...m-maybe I...d-do...need a crane...guuuhhh...B-Bye, stream...다음에 또 봐...” And with a tired, lazy wave of her fat hand, the stream cut to black.

“BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!~~~”

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Hjem(løs)  - Ivar x OC - Modern AU - Part 10

Hjem(løs) = Home(less)

Synopsis: It’s Juleaften and Silje walks home from a late Christmas shopping spree. On her way back to her apartment, she makes an unexpected encounter.

Word count: 7.4k

MASTERLIST

Part 9 <<< BONUS <<< >>> Part 11

Once Ivar and Silje woke up – later than they would have liked – and showered, they walked back to the common room, finding everyone sitting at the breakfast table. Most of them were finished and slowly drank their morning coffee, except for Hvitserk who still buttered toasts like he hadn't eaten in days.

“Morning everyone,” Silje greeted her family, tailed by Ivar who didn't quite know what to do with himself. She leaned down to kiss her mother's cheek and sat down on an empty chair. In front of her stood a bowl of grape; she took one and popped it in her mouth. “Is there anything left for us or has Hvitserk gobbled it all down?”

Her brother's mouth was currently full which rendered him unable to answer but his glare said it all. Inge hid her smile in her cup of tea, and Ivar stiffly sat down next to Silje after nodded at Ragnar whose eyes didn't leave him.

“There's more in the kitchen sweetie, let me go get it for you,” Aslaug offered. She stood up with so much grace it was like watching a ballet – no squeaking chair scrapping against the floor, no abrupt movements.

“You two have made yourselves scarce,” her father commented, the innuendo not getting past Silje who sighed and popped another grape into her mouth before answering.

“Please, not before breakfast,” she simply told him.

“It's the vitality of youth, father,” Hvitserk commented to Ivar's utmost embarrassment. Inge, who seemed to have a better understanding of the situation playing out in front of her, elbowed her fiancé. “Hey! What was that for?”

“My arm slipped,” she said innocently.

“We slept in,” Ivar decided to answer before his friend could provide yet another unhelpful comment. “It's my fault, I don't sleep well when I drink.”

Silje sent him a side glance, thankful for his intervention but apprehensive about her father's reaction. He was a bit old school and he might take Ivar's confession as a sign of weakness – because a man who couldn't hold his drink was nothing but a boy. Sometimes Silje wished she wasn't the only girl in the family apart from mother.

“I see,” Ragnar answered, leaving the two of them to wonder what on earth he could be thinking. “No more champagne for you, then.”

“What are you implying, father?” Silje almost snapped but managed to keep her voice under control. “Ivar has been nothing short of perfect since he first stepped here, what could you possibly hold against him?”

The atmosphere at the breakfast table tensed the moment she spoke up, and even Hvitserk stopped eating for a hot second. Luckily Ubbe and Margrethe weren't there anymore, and soon Aslaug came back with a plate of bread and buns.

She read the situation quickly.

“By the gods, husband! What did you say this time?” She shidded him before sitting down, sending an apologetic glance towards her daughter and poor Ivar. “Let these kids live!”

“I did not say anything!” He obejected, looking offended that his wife would just assume he was responsible for the unease. “Ask your daughter!”

“Father's using his condescending tone with Ivar and I,” she said to her defense, and Ivar truly felt like he was intruding on a family argument – then he remembered that he agreed to come here, and by becoming Silje's boyfriend he had also agreed to be a part of this.

“Do you know-” Ivar started with a loud voice to catch everyone's attention. “Do you know how many homeless persons suffer from alcoholism, Sir?” He asked Ragnar, as politely as he could.

He felt something on his thigh and realised it was Silje's hand offering him support. Ragnar's piecring gaze was set on him for the longest ten seconds of his life, then he leaned back and shook his head, fidling with his cup of coffee.

“I'm afraid I do not. Please enlighten me.”

“About fouty percent. Two out of five homeless people are alcoholics. And while I couldn't control every aspect of my life, I could control this one,” he explained as calmcly as he could, feeling everyone's eyes on him, but most importantly, Silje's reassuring touch. “You can keep your chilly, sparkly champagne. I wouldn't trade a warm cup of tea for any fancy drink.”

“Well, that settles it,” Aslaug cut in before Ragnar could further infuriate their daughter and insult Ivar. “Perhaps next time you will not be so quick to judge young people for waking up a bit later, right husband?” She sent him a look that did not allow for any other answer than a sheepish yes.

His jaw clenched as he looked at his dear wife and smiled somewhat stifly. Breakfast carried on in an uncomfortable silence after that. At least until Inge excused herself, soon followed by Hvitserk, and then Aslaug took it upon herself to start a conversation – an impeccable host as Ivar had guessed.

For a while there were no further interruptions from Ragnar who simply sat across from Silje and looked at the three of them chatting light heartedly over puff pastries and toast with jam. Aslaug asked Ivar mundane questions in a visible effort not to stir up unpleasant memories, and it had Ragnar huff to himself – which did not fly past Silje's ever vigilant ears.

“What again?” Silje and Aslaug both snapped this time.

“Oh nothing,” he told her. He had the gall to look surprised by her outburst. “I was just musing that you both seem to be quite fond of this young man.”

For a short moment the two women were taken aback and staring in confusion. Ragnar had always been a complicated man, hard to follow and even harder to win over, but almost never known to surrender. Perhaps he did see the childishness of his behaviour after all?

“Don't sound so surprised,” Silje put in. “You're the only one who met him with prejudices.”

“Sweetie...” Aslaug said softly, placing a hand on her daughter's arm. “Peace.”

“Your mother is right. I went about it the wrong way, I apologize Ivar,” he said, confusing them all even more. “I'm sure you are a fine young man. I will not put you down anymore as it is obvious that my wife and my daughter especially like you very much.”

“Thank you, father,” Silje said, giving him a little smile as a peace offering.

She did not like to argue with her parents, even though one could sometimes think she had a conflictual relationship with her father. She knew how and when to stand her ground when she thought he was in the wrong, and it resulted in these petty cold wars between them.

“But let's not forget how much you liked the last one too, yes?” This cast a cold over the room. As ever, Ragnar knew how to do a dramatic exist and stood up, coffee in hand. “I'm not the only one capable of bad judgement.”

*

The trip home had been a quiet one – for the most part that is. Ivar and Silje headed back to Copenhagen by train, and he stopped counting how many times he thought about snatching Silje's book from her hands to get her attention. She obviously wasn't reading because she sometimes stared at the same page for fifteen minutes.

“Alright, I've had enough,” he said when he finally gave in. “Please talk to me.”

“About what?” She frowned, taking her book back but keeping it shut.

“Don't act clueless.” He rolled his eyes. “I've been on my best behaviour all week-end, I haven't said a word out of line, and constantly censored myself in front of your father – who absolutely hates my guts by the way – so now please be honest, what exactly happened over there?”

Silje bit down on her lip, and her eyes fell on her lap. She was rarely uncomfortable around Ivar, but some things were harder to talk about than others. He knew that too, so he didn't make her look at him, and instead let her play with the tips of her hair and chew on her lower lip.

“I never thought he would be so difficult, I'm sorry about that. I feel like I led you into the lion's den,” she confessed, letting go of her hair and pushing it back so she wouldn't fidget anymore.

“That's not your fault,” Ivar said, taking her hand in his. “I'm a big boy, I can handle a disapprouving father.”

“Can you handle mine, though? He already looked into your past, and- I don't know I just don't want you to walk away because of him.”

A chuckled escaped his lips. “Is that what you're worried about? It will never happen Silje!”

“But it did happen!” She objected. “I told you once, remember?”

“The guy who got scared of your large family and soldier brothers?” Ivar asked, vaguely recalling the time she mentionned him.

“Yeah, well, it didn't end there.” Silje looked embarrassed to admit it and tried to look away but Ivar's hold on her hand tightened and she was forced to meet his gaze, and saw nothing but tenderness. “I took him back after that. Not for long, only a few weeks, but my parents were completely against it, said that he didn't deserve me if he couldn't even stand his ground around my family.”

“Were they wrong?” He questioned, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for this guy, whoever he was.  “Why did you take him back?”

He hoped he didn't sound too possessive, though if Silje's little smirk was any indication he didn't succeed.

“It's complicated. He was nice and cute, and he was Asmus' best friend at the time, so it was either giving him another chance or making every group hangout awkard for all of us,” she explained, eyes cast on their joined hands. “It was a proper mess, and it ended up putting an end to a lifelong friendship between Asmus and him.”

“Because Asmus likes you,” Ivar finished for her. He has had his suspicions for a while now, but seeing Silje's expression when he said it confirmed them.

Asmus' puppy love for Silje would always remain just that, nothing mroe, and Ivar was not jealous of him, but he felt a little sorry. Not enough to step back and let him have Silje, but sorry nonetheless.

“Anyway, I don't know what he's doing now, I haven't seen him since freshman year. I don't think of him anymore, but my parents haven't forgotten, and now my father is making you pay for it. It comes from a good place, I know that, but I wish he could see I'm not making a mistake with you.”

“That guy broke your heart and your father wants to make sure it doesn't happen again, I can deal with that,” Ivar reassured her, but Silje smiled and shook her head.

“No, he didn't break my heart,” she laughed lightly. “I dumped him by the way. But I've never had my heart broken...”

She looked straight at him now, eyes shining with emotion that moved him to his very core. He swallowed thickly.

“Why?” He heard himself ask.

“Because I didn't love any of my exes,” she told him, not taking her gaze off of him. “And if my father is so harsh with you in partiular, it's because he knows I will not move on so easily if you decide to walk away.”

“Should I read into this?” He asked her, knowing he was smiling like a fool as the words came out of his mouth – a smile that mirrored her own in that moment.

“As much as you want,” Silje answered.

She leaned in and Ivar met her halfway to give her the deepest, most tender kiss he could give her in a train full of people. He didn't mind much having an audience, but knowing they had to keep it PG rated put a strain on him.

Her hand nestled in his neck while he tried to keep his own on her waist and not let it wander any further down – or up, for temptation was everywhere. They broke their embrace a few times to breathe and share a glance, a foolish smile perhaps, and kissed again. Their lips attracted each other, and Ivar and Silje suffered from having to share innocent pecks and hand grazes when they wanted to melt into each other.

Ivar eventually pulled away from the swollen, pink lips of his beautiful girlfriend, as much as it cost him. Silje laid her head on his shoulder, her hand still holding onto his for dear life. He had a hunch the last two hours of train ride would feel like an eternity.

*

Two weeks later Hvitserk burst into Silje's apartment while Ivar and her were busy cleaning the entire place. She almost didn't hear her brother relentlessly ringing the doorbell until she stopped the vacuum and pushed the button who opened the front door. She left her door wide open and a minute later there he was, breathing heavily, a big dumb grin on his face.

“Brother,” Silje said in a flat tone, not liking being interrupted in her cleaning – it wasn't exactly her favourite activity so she liked to get it over with quickly.

“Hi man!” Ivar came to stand behind Silje by the door and greeted his friend. The two men shared a quick handshake and Hvitserk side hugged Silje as he walked in. “What are you doing here?”

“I have news!” He told them with his signature bright smile. “I just got my personal training license!”

He has been doing odd jobs since he left the military, while trying to figure out what it was he wanted to do with his life. Silje and Ivar both congratulated him, momentarily forgetting the huge task they were engaged in only minute before. Even Silje's frown fell from her face as she slapped her brother's shoulder and shot him a smile.

Ivar also told him a few words of felicitation while Silje continued folding the pile of clean clothes Ivar had been working on when Hvitserk came in.

“I didn't even know you took the exam,” Silje said, folding the last pieces of clothing and lifting the basket up. She carried it against her hip to the bedroom and shouted from there, “At least now you'll stop wearing out my boyfriend!”

“Wait a second, were you practising on me?” Ivar asked, his hand still on Hvitserk's shoulder in a congratulating gesture. “I knew something was up.” He shook his head and withdrew his hand. “You damn near killed me man.”

“You poor fussy princess,” Hvitserk snickered. “I put you back in shape is what I did.”

Silje walked back into the living room, hands firm on her hips.

“Hvitty, brother of mine,” she started with a honeyed voice, “I like my Ivar a little more energetic. Stop trying out your experimental workout routines on him from now on.”

“Pff,” Hvitserk huffed, along with an eye roll “It's not my fault he can't keep up. Why do you complain sister? Has your Ivar not been meeting your expectations lately?”

“Don't be gross,” Ivar warned him before his sister mauled him for being so unbelievably crude. Silje crossed her arms, fingers tapping on his elbow impatiently.

“When do you start then?” She asked to shift the conversation towards safer territories.

“Monday, I took a vacant job at the gym just three streets down from where we live,” he informed them. “I'm doing two hours sessions of couples' workout four times a week. You two should enrol. Silje I hate to be the one to tell you that but you've regained your baby cheeks.”

In response to this Silje blushed and slammed her hands on her cheeks to hide them in embarrassment. Her eyes narrowed as she glared daggers at her unapologetic brother.

“I don't believe for a second that you hate it!” She accused him, a reproachful finger pointed at him. Ivar smiled and wrapped an arm around her, pressing her to his side as a comforting gesture. She was a beautiful woman, but everybody had insecurities.

“That's not how you'll get us to enrol,” he laughed, feeling Silje's hand settle on his waist.

“He doesn't really want to get us in shape, he's just chicken shit about having his first class surrounded by unfamiliar faces,” Silje smiled deviously.

“Oh come on!” Hvitserk's tone changed to somewhat whiny now. “It was meant to motivate you to work out a little, you know I'd never insult my little sister.” With that innocent look on his face and his hand over his heart he was almost believable.

“Right,” Silje snorted. “As if.”

“I mean look at Ivar! You've got to admit I did a pretty good job at chiselling that scrawny body he had when we first met. Abs of steel I gave him,” he argued with Yoda's voice as though it would give weight to his arguments. “Just feel 'em.”

Curiosity got the best of Silje and she touched Ivar's abs to see if there was some truth to her brothers claims. Her jaw nearly dropped.

“I don't need to feel him up, Hvitserk, I'll have you know I know exactly what Ivar looks like under this shirt,” Silje replied, smiling triumphantly upon seeing her brother's smile twist into something akin to mild disgust.

Ivar wore a smug smirk despite himself, unable to keep it down. He had earned these freaking abs.

“Well there's still a little fat tire to get rid of but your Ivar's not doing too bad,” Hvitserk added in a condescending voice, as if he couldn't stand the thought of Ivar having a better body then him.

Well... Hvitserk did have a busy family life and a wife who cooked his every meal.... And if his workout routines were really as good as he made them sound, then it was no wonder Ivar had built up so much muscle over the past months. His appetite hasn't decreased since the first day when he arrived at her apartment, famished, and forked down two plates of chicken breast and risotto.

“You keep telling yourself that!” She rolled her eyes and tried to go back to work but Hvitserk didn't admit defeat so easily.

“Did I say Ivar, sorry. I meant you have a little fat tire,” Hvitserk only just managed to say before having to duck to dodge the unidentified flying object Silje tossed at him. It hit the closed front door and fell heavily to the ground.

“If you care for your life or your face, you will shut up now,” she threatened her brother, who definitely couldn't take a hint.

Hvitserk was about to open his mouth again, no doubt to say something that will rouse Silje's fury and earn him some kind of injury he will have to explain to Inge later (which will probably end up in Inge giving him a second serving of whoop-ass). Ivar decided to step in before anything else could come out of his dumb mouth. He slammed his hand on Hvitserk's shoulder when he took a step toward his sister.

“Hey, Hvit,” Ivar started, his calm and steady voice conveying perfectly how serious he was. Fun was over. “That's enough.”

The information seemed to get through his thick skull and the flame of mischief in his eyes extinguished. Hvitserk planted his hand son his hips and exhaled through is nose.

“By the gods Silje I was kidding!” She didn't seem impressed by this half-ass apology but accpeted anyway. She grunted vaguely as an answer. “But you should still come. It'd  be cool, and fun. I'll make it fun.”

“Thank you for the invitation man, but there's no way you'll drag my ass to the gym,” Ivar chuckled at Hvitserk's last attempt to make them attend his class. “I'd rather be outside than locked in a room with twenty other sweaty people.”

Hvitserk made a face indicating that he understood and agreed.

“And I'm just too lazy. Besides, I already see enough of your dumb face,” Silje concluded.

“You're party poopers! The both of you!” Hvitserk accused, pointing a finger at them. “But never mind, that's not even why I came here in the first place.”

“Why did you then?” Ivar asked, letting go of Silje and walking to the kitchen to get drinks for everyone.

“Inge and I want to invite you for dinner,” he said to their astonishment.

Hvitserk was a merry man with lots of friends and a personality that made everybody want to befriend him, but he sometimes forgot the most rudimentary politeness – like hosting a dinner once in a while and not always being the one who gets invited.

No wonder Silje frowned like she just saw a horn grow out of her brother's forehead.

“I'm sorry, did you just say you were inviting us for dinner?” She asked in bedazzlement, shaking her head a bit.

“Yes,” Hvitserk dead-panned like he was talking to two toddlers who haven't yet grasped the concept of hospitality (even though he was currently, and once again, at their place). “Stop gawking at me, I'll get offended.”

“You should, the only time I saw your place is when I invited myself,” Ivar told him.

“You're one to speak!” Hvitserk replied. “This is technically not your place.”

“Hvitserk!” Silje barked at him, smacking his head. What was is that came over him today? He behave abominably!

Her brother rubbed the side of his head while Silje turned around to look at Ivar. He didn't look like he took it too badly even though Hvitserk's remark was extremely rude and uncalled for. His eyes caught hers and he smiled a little to reassure her – his ego wasn't wrinkled because of Hvitserk's tactless foul mouth.

“Right, sorry, I didn't mean it like that,” he apologized under Silje's harsh gaze. He could tell he needed to take his leave now before she decided to kick him out of her flat. “I know I tend to be the parasite more than the host, so all the more reason to have this dinner, right? We were thinking next week, maybe Friday evening. Let us know so we can hire a babysitter.”

Nothing else was said or done and Hvitserk waved and left, carefully walking around Silje's coffee table and couch just to avoid being within arms' reach of her. That idiot had good ideas sometimes.

“Fucker,” she grumbled before going back to vacuum cleaning her flat.

*

Standing outside Hvitserk’s door dressed up and anticipating a warm homemade meal was a strange experience. In Hvitty’s mouth a warm meal was usually a pizza, and the only thing homemade he did were his infamous cocktails. In this area Ivar was the lucky one, for he had invited himself to Hvitserk’s place a while back and ate with his family.

Silje has had no such honour. The only thing she knew about her brother’s cooking skills was what he told her – and she had a hard time believe he was that good.

“What do you reckon we should expect?” Silje asked after ringing the doorbell.

Ivar chuckled beside her, and she wondered if it was nervous.

“Who’s to say?” He shrugged. “We’re talking about your brother after all, could be anything.”

“Inge wouldn't let him get away with just anything,” Silje said without hesitation. Her sister in law wore the pants, that much she knew.

Yet it was Hvitserk who opened the door with a big smile on his face, his hair tied back in the smallest ponytail in history and wearing an apron no less. Both Silje and Ivar tried to hide their smile when they greeted him and stepped in, taking a mental picture for later.

“So, uhm-” Silje gestured vaguely at Hvitserk. “I guess you're the Chef?”

“I'm always the chef,” Hvitserk replied sassily, crossing his arms and raising his nose to look at his sister. “In and out of the kitchen.”

“I doubt that,” she huffed and shoved his arm. “A real chef does not simply walk out of the kitchen while the food's on the stove.”

“We've been here for thirty seconds and you've already emasculated your brother. You're outdoing yourself Silje,” Ivar remarked, making her laugh but Hvitserk did not appreciate and squinted his eyes at him.

“Alright, alright, I'll go easy on you from now on, brother,” she promised a doubtful Hvitserk who grunted something unintelligible as an answer. “Inge, hej!”

The two women hugged awkwardly in the kitchen what with Inge having to keep her hands up so as to not put grease on her friend.

“He's right though, I'm only helping a bit tonight,” she said proudly, and Hvitserk beamed. “The place is yours chef!”

She stepped aside and washed her hands before greeting Ivar properly and taking up her role of hostess. One she took very seriously, because not two minutes later both Ivar and Silje were sitting on the couch, a glass of something in hand, a plate of amuses-bouches being held in front of them, and soft music was playing in the background to cover the sound of food sizzling in the pan.

Silje needed to take notes. More often than not she even forgot to offer water to her friends when they came by. Not that it happened a lot these days. In fact, no one except her brothers visited her since Ivar lived with her, for that very reason.

All in all they had a good time and there wasn't a moment of silence for anyone to feel uncomfortable in Hvitserk's home. Inge was enjoying her evening off, as she called it, since she usually was the one doing all the cooking and setting the table for everyone. Ivar asked about the kids, and Silje mused her brother truly must have his hands full what with his family and work.

“You don't understand yet how incredible it feels to spend an evening without anyone crying or screaming or running around like a gremlin on acid,” she told the pair before downing her glass of wine. “Sometimes they drive me crazy,” she told them in a lower voice right when Hvitserk walked in, having dropped his apron.

“What makes you crazy?” He asked before plopping down next to his fiancée and bringing a beer to his lips.

“Oh nothing, I was just telling them how crazy I am about you,” she said with a large smile. She smacked a kiss on his cheek and Hvitserk grinned in return.

“I know you're lying but you're cute, so I'll let you get away with it.” He concluded by booping her nose and taking another swing of his beer. “Food will be ready shortly. Prepare to get your mind blown, sister! Your taste buds will never forget tonight.”

Silje held back from telling Hvitserk that her taste buds might commit suicide by the end of their meal, but only because she vowed to go easy on him. He had vexed her the other day with his thoughtless remarks about Ivar (and her weight, which was perfectly average); they haven't talked between then and now, and she held a little grudge.

“Hvitty you might have to taste it right before her to prove it's edible,” Inge teased, causing Silje to blush instantly, ashamed of having been caught glaring.

Ivar had assured her he did not mind Hvitserk's mouth running ahead – way, way ahead – of his brain. After all he had not said anything wrong; he simply could have said it differently.

True to his word Hvitserk stood up two minutes later, once his drink was empty, and ordered everyone to sit at the table. Even Inge took place with their guests, enjoying this luxury while Hvitserk took care of everything – Silje could find no flaw in his behaviour tonight, which was infuriating because she was still mad and needed a good reason to stay so until her brother apologized.

Even then, dinner went well. Inge did most of the teasing Hvitserk since Silje wasn't in her usual playful mood. She came here with an open mind but was immediately reminded of Hvitserk's words when she saw him in his dumb apron. Ivar at least seemed to have fun, and that brought a smile on her face and made it all worth it. She had been mad to her brothers before, it wasn't anything new and they always realized sooner or later.

When Inge started telling them about a little incident that happened right before their arrival, even Silje had to join in and laugh.

“I swear I was only watching the sauce while he got dressed, and then I heard a high-pitched scream coming from the bathroom. Made me jump out of my skin,” she started, having trouble telling the story without tearing up from laughter.

Hvitserk hid his face in his hands out of shame.

“Hvitserk was calling me, his voice all weird and shaky like a bear had sneaked up on him while he was putting on his shirt or something.”

“It was worse!” He intervened, as if to save face before the punchline dropped.

“I told him that I couldn't leave the sauce of course, but he kept insisting, calling me honey, and saying please. And then I knew, because the kids do the same,” Inge kept telling her story, ignoring Hvitserk's desperate attempt to preserve some of his male pride. “I found him huddled in a corner of the bathroom, opposite the sink because there was a spider!”

Silje snorted and drank some wine, taking great pleasure in putting together a mental picture. Ivar threw his head back in laughter, and Hvitserk's dignity dropped to the ground, along with his balls.

“I had to kill a spider for my big, strong soon-to-be husband!” She roared in laughter.

“It was huge, okay? I wasn't expecting it, that's why I got scared,” he tried to explain, only managing to make it worse. Inge was still slapping the table, laughing so much no sound came out – a sure sign she has had enough wine for tonight.

“You've never been good with small creatures, Hvitty,” Silje put in her two cents. “Remember that time when we were in Dubaï, and th-”

“That was a scorpion! My reaction was entirely legitimate!” he cut her off, red in the face, and obviously not eager to share that story - which so far had remained between those who witnessed the scene.

“Oh, I wanna know!” Inge whined, holding onto Hvitserk's arm and pulling at it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he did not budge.

“I would rather shave off my eyebrows than do that, honey,” he told her sweetly.

“What about me?” Ivar said. “I want to know too!”

“I'll tell you later,” Silje snickered, smirking to herself when Ivar glanced at her, a playful smile dancing on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes.

He too was fairly buzzed. It was time to lay off the wine. Luckily, they were finished eating now, they only dragged it out by chatting until they made room for dessert.

It was a while before that happened though. Slowly but steadily, Silje's mood lifted, and she eased into the conversation naturally instead of having to force herself to participate. This all made her feel very adult – having dinner with another couple, the kids not home, sipping wine (because she was the only one sober enough to continue doing so at this point) and listening to faint jazz music.

If they were dressed for the occasion it would be a perfect scene from a movie. But given the circumstances they were dressed down – the circumstances being that they were all short on money.

“Sil, you come help me undress the table,” Hvitserk suddenly said, when Inge and Ivar were in the middle of a conversation.

She complied without a word. As soon as she was alone in the kitchen with Hvitserk and the empty plates, she opened her mouth to give him a good verbal ear pulling, but he spoke first.

“I know you're mad at me, but you could at least try to hide it,” he scolded her. It wasn't often that serious Hvitserk came out, but Silje was glad to see him. Maybe this one would listen.

“You were very insensible, brother. Cooking dinner does not make up for behaving like a jerk!” She slapped the side of his head and he had the grace to pretend to be hurt.

“I'm sorry. I was excited and did not think before speaking,” he apologized sincerely, even though he knew he also had to present his apology to Ivar.

Silje pursed her lips and handed him the plates one by one so he could put them in the dishwasher.  Reluctantly, she sighed and decided to turn the page.

“Alright. I guess it's not worth ruining the evening over. I suppose you're a good cook after all, I haven't died of food poisoning yet,” she groaned, not happy about having to swallow her pettiness.

“I'm touched,” he replied with a cunning smile – he knew he had won the game, the bastard. “Now go back in there. I handle the rest on my own.”

Silje scurried off and joined her boyfriend at the table. Inge must have gone to the bathroom because she found Ivar alone, tapping his fingers against the wooden table in rhythm to the music. She looped her arms around him from behind and kissed his cheek.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” She inquired, revelling in this short moment of privacy while it lasted.

“Mmmh,” he hummed in answer. “Are you still angry with your brother? I told you I don't care about what he said,” he told her, his hands firmly holding her in place so she couldn't squeeze out of his grasp and avoid the question like she had been doing all week.

She tilted her head to one side, thinking about it.

“I guess not. He seemed sorry enough, and I'm always in a better mood when I know there's going to be dessert,” she decided.

Happy with her answer, Ivar released his grip on Silje, but she kept their fingers laced even after she took place on her chair beside him. She was trapped in his eyes again – she noticed she stared a lot whenever his gaze was on her. They caught her in their blue depth, and Ivar smiled fondly, not looking away from Silje before she had made a fool of herself and stared a moment too long.

He never complained or even pointed it out to her. Maybe he liked it. Whatever the reason, she was grateful, and if she was going to lose herself to something, it might as well be her boyfriend's glossy eyes.

Ivar lifted their joined hands and touched the tip of her nose with one finger, bringing Silje out of her trance.

“Sorry. I was staring,” she said with a suddenly blush on her cheeks. She had to tear her eyes from him, out of embarrassment and because she might find herself unable to blink again if she didn't look away.

“I didn't say anything,” Ivar chuckled. “An-”

“Who wants a cup of coffee?” Inge's voice interrupted them, her head sticking out of the kitchen now, eyes wide open in expectancy.

Silje couldn't help but chuckle, and she raised a finger to signify her friend she would like a coffee. Ivar raised two fingers to show that he, too, wanted one, and Inge's head disappeared through the opening. Hvitserk then came into the living room, using his back to push the door open because he carried a large tray full of small glasses with what seemed like chocolate mousse and fresh mint garnish, and tiny bite-sized lemon cakes.

“We should tell them now, I can’t hold it in anymore,” Inge told Hvitserk in what was clearly meant to be a hushed tone but wasn’t.

Silje and Ivar exchanged a quizzical glance. Silje was stirring her coffee while Ivar grabbed a cube of sugar, but they stopped their gesture in expectation. Hvitserk laughed at Inge’s endearing attempt to be discreet when she was clearly a bit too drunk to do so.

“Okay, honey. You tell them”, he conceded, much to his fiancée’s delight.

Silje had to admit he was quite the gentleman with Inge, she had never heard him raise his voice or be inconsiderate towards her. Ivar much had been thinking the same, because he had the same fond smile on his face as Silje. But it dropped the moment Inge opened her mouth and excitedly told them the news.

“We’re finally moving into a proper house! And we thought we’d put your name on the apartment papers!”

She was obviously expecting a glowing reaction from her guests, but both Ivar and Silje remained still and quiet for a short while. Stunned, and a bit taken aback, neither of them knew what to say. Congratulations? Thanks? When? Where do we sign? Come again?

“Wait, what?” Silje finally broke the silence with her dumbfounded question, and Inge’s flare visibly decreased.

“Honey, I think you jumped a few steps here,” Hvitserk told Inge, then looked at Silje. “What with the wedding coming up, we thought it was high time we move into a bigger place. This way the kids can have their own room, and won’t have to share anymore,” he began to explain since Inge wasn’t doing a good job at it.

Ivar and Silje’s attention shifted to him, both their heads snapping towards him in one movement.

“We saved up a lot of money for the wedding, but as you probably know, Sil, father insisted on paying for all of it. And what better use of all this extra money than to use it for our big move?”

It all sounded very thought-out and reasonable, but Ivar’s brain was a raging sea of questions and worries. His entire body had tensed up and he peeked at Silje every other five seconds to see her reaction. Her expression of confusion was slowly disappearing in favour of a big smile. Cold sweat began to trickle down Ivar’s back.

“That’s amazing!” She beamed, congratulating Inge and her brother on their investment. “Where will you go then? Will the move be after the wedding?”

“We don’t know yet, but it wouldn’t be too far. I finally found a steady job, so I’d like to keep it. We were thinking Lyngby, or Hellerup, but we’ll see.”

“We want to move as soon as possible, it’ll be way before the wedding. Hopefully we can move in by jul,” Inge added, as if sobering up.

Was that why they invited us? Ivar wondered. He felt like he had fallen into a mousetrap. His throat tightened, rendering him incapable of saying anything. He stayed still and listened, hoping that Silje’s excitement upon hearing the good news would distract her from his odd behaviour.

“Fantastic news! If you need help for anything, we’ll give a hand of course,” she immediately offered, as though the house was already purchased.

“We’ll hold you to that!” Hvitserk laughed. “But what’s more relevant to you, is that this place will be empty once we leave. You know father gave us this apartment because, well-” he trailed off, and when Ivar slowly nodded (more to himself than anyone else, to be fair) he was relieved to see that he didn’t have to go into details. Silje had told him. “Anyway, it would be a shame to let it collect dust while you two live in that matchbox of yours Silje.”

The conclusion wasn’t as nice as the beginning, and Silje felt compelled to squint her eyes when her brother dared insult her home, sweet home. However, the news was too great for her to take any real offense.

“Do you hear that, Ivar?” She exuded excitement and happiness.

Ivar knew he looked dazzled and shocked and hoped she wouldn’t read into it. Her hands found his, and he prayed she didn’t notice how sweaty his palms had become as she conversation progressed.

“Yeah, it- it’s crazy.” Pathetic. When did he become such a poor actor? “Is that the reason behind this impromptu dinner invite?” He asked, if only to go back to steadier grounds. He did not like feeling like he was treading on thin ice.

“I could have just texted you the news if I wanted,” Hvitserk argued, acting upset. “But instead I made you dinner.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, brother. We invite you every other week and we don’t brag about it,” Silje replied with a snicker – her mood had significantly lifted since Inge awkwardly broke the news. Speaking of Inge, she was slowly getting down her alcohol high, and her eyes grew droopy.

Ivar didn’t have much hope, Silje tended to not miss much when it came to him. She would see through his pretend-excitement. In any case, she did not say anything in front of their hosts, and so the conversation carried on. The siblings talked formalities and paperwork as if they would be moving tomorrow.

Now that their bellies were full, the news broken, and Inge dozing off, it was time to call it a day. They all helped with the dishes after Hvitserk carried Inge to their bedroom, making Silje and Ivar smile goofily at each other. Who knew Hvitserk was such a sap?

This adorable display of affection did not, however, take Ivar’s worries off his mind. He nervously dried the plates with a towel while his friend washed the dishes and Silje wiped the table and countertops. Hvitserk all but shooed them out after bidding them goodnight, and Silje flipped him off for being such a lame host, but they were both laughing when the door closed behind Ivar and Silje.

For the first ten minutes of their walk home, they stayed silent. The city at night had a special atmosphere that Ivar knew Silje loved, and so when she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, he had to smile. He knew he had to enjoy the peace while it lasted, because there was no way he could avoid her questions – which would come soon.

Sooner than he expected.

“So, what was that, inside?” She hummed her question, hugging herself to keep warm. “You didn’t look very happy about moving. Like my tiny apartment so much?” She was laughing, unsuspecting of his reasons.

Ivar gulped down. They were in the middle of the park, surrounded by nothing but trees, and shining stars. It could have been romantic. But he was about to ruin it all. This time he shoved his hands into his back pockets to wipe the sweat off them.

“No, that’s not it,” he began, his voice low as a whisper.

Gods, why did he wait so long? If he hadn’t chickened out of this conversation so many times, they wouldn’t be having it now. They wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

Silje picked up his serious tone right away, stopping in her tracks to turn around and meet his veiled gaze. He had been walking a few steps behind her the whole way, and she had been wondering why. Gulping down, she took a good look at him. What was going on?

“What do you mean?”

An innocent question whose answer would shake her to her core. Ivar was fidgeting and wriggling uncomfortably under her inquisitive gaze. Here goes nothing.

“Silje. I can’t move with you. I’m leaving Denmark.”

TAGLIST: @thamexx

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[forged-through-trials]

Once we had our barrings, we delved into the dungeon. It was around the first corner that we found the first of the Hunters, an Imperial. He came right at me, making the mistake of ignoring Ruin, who came up behind him, and ran him through from spine to sternum. Ruin: Slammed his sword into the guy’s back. “Nothing personal, kid.” Imperial Hunter: “That... meme... is so... last... era!” He groaned and died, slumping to the floor. Ruin: “...” Trials: “...well, he had a point.” Ruin: He frowned. “I thought it was cool.” With our first challenger out of the way, we plucked a key from his body. I tried it on the gate, but it didn’t fit. No chance of us getting lucky on the first try, huh? Well, we’ll just have to clean up the rest of the dungeon, then. We delved deeper and deeper in, dodging traps, when we came upon a path with an open pit trap. Spikes lined he bottom of the pit. All in all, a good idea to avoid falling into it. Further in, we came upon the Nord Hunter. I plincked him with a couple of arrows, but the arrows stuck in his armor and just made him mad. He gave chase, so Ruin and I had to race back through the tunnels, and lured him toward the pit. We jumped over it, while he was caught completely by surprise by the pit, and fell in, landing upon the spikes below.

Between the spikes and the arrows, he had only enough strength to crawl away a foot before finally succumbing to his injuries. A gruesome end, but when you play The Most Dangerous Game, sometimes the prey gets a connect-four before you! I plucked another key from the Nord’s body. By now, I had an idea of how this might work, so we delved deeper in, the two keys we’d pinched opening the door into the deepest depths of the Hunter’s Run.

Deep down, past some twists and turns, we came upon the final hunter. I would’ve expected more, as The Most Dangerous Game just worked better when there’re four hippos competing to gobble up the most marbles, but seemed like we only had three hunters in total to deal with this go ‘round. I readied an arrow, and let it fly, just as he turned around, landing a shot right in collar-bone.

The last hunter was down, and it was a simple matter of collecting his key. With the hunters defeated and the traps disarmed, the route back through the Hunter’s Run was considerably easier. Three keys in hand, I tried them upon the lock near the entrance, the one that barred me from the lever... only find that none of them fit. Perplexed, I looked to Ruin, who was just as confused. We’d ‘won’ Kurdan’s game, so why couldn’t we open the gate and get out? Out of options, we trekked out of the dungeon to see if we could consult Aleron about what to do next. Once we were outside again, we saw Aleron and...

Kurdan? Kurdan!? Aleron, get away from him! Kurdan, no! Poor Aleron was struck down even as he tried fruitlessly to defend himself. With one blow of his fiery axe, Kurdan laid the man low. Ruin and I rushed over, our weapons drawn, my teeth grit and bared as I was ready to plant my sword into Kurdan’s good eye immediately.

He seemed undaunted, even as he stood before us, torch in hand, blood still glistening on his axe. Kurdan: “I’m impressed that you killed all of my clients. Oh, well, I suppose this is why they asked to hunt a peasant farmer and not a trained fighter like the two of you. “Speaking of, too bad about Aleron, eh? Didn’t need him anymore now that y’er here. At least, now he’s free of his debts... ha-ha! Ha-ha, ha, ha!” Trials: “You bastard! We won your game! Why??” Kurdan: “Do you really think I could afford to let you leave here? No prey has ever left this island alive, and I aim to keep it that way. “You were right about one thing, though... this is my game, and I’m changing the rules!”

He drew his axe, and the fight was on. A fight that we were at a significant disadvantage at. Kurdan was a wall of meat shelled in armor, and my sword seemed to bounce off of him after most strikes. And Ruin couldn’t help; Kurdan had backup, a Khajiit archer on the overhang above us, so Ruin was busy keeping him busy, leaving me to contend with Kurdan. I’d picked up a few poisons from Shady Sam, and put one to work here, dousing my sword in it. Then I waited for an opening, and when I found it, managed to nick Kurdan on the hand. The poison sapped Kurdan’s strength tremendously, making his swings as weak as an orc-baby... a beefy orc-baby, admittedly, because his strikes still stung like the dickens, but I persevered. With his swings rendered sluggish and slow, he didn’t see my counterattack coming, and with a careful swing, clipped him in the neck, opening an artery. He bled out quickly, slumping to the floor, dead.

Alas, were he but the only one. Poor Aleron; he didn’t stand a chance. Ruin joined me a moment later, having dealt with the Khajiit archer on the overhang, but by then there was nothing we could do for Aleron. Dammit! How am I going to explain this to Ursanne? I promised her I’d get her husband home... We buried Aleron where he fell, then took the real key to this place off of Kurdan’s body. With it in hand, we were finally able to open that gate inside of The Hunter’s Run, and pull the lever to open the front gate. That left us free to traverse back to Bravil to relay the grim news.

Once back in Bravil, we found the new widow in an alley, and though I was hesitant, I confronted her. I must’ve looked quite morose, because she knew something was wrong the moment she saw me. Ursanne: She wore a look of dread and defeat. “Is something wrong? What’s happened to Aleron?” Trials: I cast my eyes away from her, unable to meet her face. “I’m sorry, Ursanne... he didn’t make it.” Ursanne: “When I saw the grave look on your face, I knew something had happened to him. Oh, Aleron, why did you have to get into all of this trouble? Why did you... have to leave me?“ She balled her fists, her eyes shut tight as tears streamed from them. “An-and what of that fetcher, Kurdan?” Ruin: “We were forced to slay him to secure our own escape.” Ursanne: She whimpered, turning away from the two of us. “Then... Aleron’s death has been avenged. Oh, Aleron, I told you the gambling would lead to this. You... you foolish, foolish man!” True to her word, she spared us a few trinkets and a bit of gold as payment for our services. I tried to give them back to her, but she refused, too proud to take back the meager pittance she’d offered in payment. After that, she started to walk away. I called to her, but she refused to answer, insisting that she wanted to be left alone. I sighed, packing up the meager rewards for this trip, and Ruin and I walked the long, lonely street back to the Fighters Guild to retire for the night. This was a harsh lesson to learn; that sometimes, you can’t win ‘em all. But maybe I can at least take solace in knowing that Kurdan’s sick game is put to bed, permanently, and he’s been punished for his crimes. It may not bring back Aleron, or dry Ursanne’s tears, but it’s some small comfort, and minor victory, I can claim.

[ben243s-transformation-stories]

The Dog in the Clearing

I was born in a time when computers and video games were still new. As they were fairly expensive, most homes didn’t have either one. This forced us to find other ways to spend our time. I spent most of my time outside, playing in my back yard or the large wooded are that was just beyond our property line. I would spend many hours each day walking through the tree lined area, and often just lounging against one of the trees taking in the view of the clouds as they drifted past. Sometimes I would catch sight of some animal as it went about its business, and I would keep watch on it as long as I could. Often trying to imagine what it was up to and what it would be like to be that animal. As I grew, I knew that there had to be more to life than the existence of a human. It was great in some ways, I loved playing with my friends, and watching movies and tv, as well as the times I got to play video games at a friends house. But I still felt like something was missing from my life. One summer, when my friends were away at summer camp, I found my self stuck at home with little to do. I decided that I would spend the day in a clearing I had discovered in the woods. It was a secluded area, and I had never seen another soul there, save for the occasional rabbit or bird. I packed myself a lunch and a book, and made my way through the woods. When I reached the clearing, I found a nice place to relax, and started reading. It was the most relaxing experience I have ever had. I spent the next few days returning to the clearing, and reading. I had started the summer envying my friends and the fun they would be having away at camp, but I couldn’t deny the draw that nature had on me. I felt more like I belonged here than anywhere else. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember, I heard a rustling sound next to me. I looked over and found myself face to face with a large dog that was tearing into the bag I had brought, attempting to get at my sandwich. I sat up and turned to get a better look at the dog. As I did, I must have scared him, as he backed away. I tried to call him to me, but he refused, and stayed just out of my reach. Suddenly I got an idea, and pulled out my sandwich. I offered the dog a piece. Cautiously, he sniffed it and came close enough to gobble it down. I reached up and petted him. He looked leery, but stayed close, obviously hoping for more food. I fed him the remains of my sandwich, and looked for any tags or other means of identification. There weren’t any to be found, and I wondered where he could have come from. Over the next few days, I made an extra sandwich for the dog, and was happy to see him each time I went to the clearing. It wasn’t long before he came to trust me, or at least enjoy the sandwiches, and would come to me when I called, and spent most of the time I was there with me. I had never had a pet of my own, as my mom was allergic to dogs, and figured this was as close as I was going to get. I taught him a few tricks, and threw sticks for him to catch. It wasn’t long before we were fast friends. I look forward everyday to spending time with the dog. Before long I decided to see what it would be like to be a dog. I dropped all my things off at the clearing and got down on all fours. The dog looked at me funny for a moment, then came up and licked me right in the face. I couldn’t help but laugh. At first I just watched him, and imitated his movements. Then it seemed like he realized what was going on, and started trying to teach me how to be a dog. He would sniff at things, and do other typical dog things that I would quickly copy. If I did it wrong, he was quick to show me again, and even nuzzle and lick me as a reward for doing it right. By the end of the day, I was filthy from head to toe, and my clothes were a mess. My mom was going to kill me when I got home, but I loved the experience, and wouldn’t have traded it for anything. When I got home, I stripped off my clothes, and threw them in the laundry and took a long bath. I couldn’t wait until I could go out again tomorrow and get more practice being a dog. When my mom found my clothes, I was afraid she was going to ground me, but I convinced her it was just a typical boy thing, and I would be more careful in the future. The next day, I made my way to the clearing and found my friend waiting there for me. I let him lick my hand in greeting, and fed him a handful of cereal I had brought with me. While he finished of the snack, I stripped off all of my clothes and carefully folded them. I placed them in my backpack. Now my mom wouldn’t have anything to complain about, I thought as I dropped onto all fours. The warm sun felt wonderful on my skin. As the dog and I spent the day playing, I began to let myself slip more and more into what I though was a dogs mindset. Somehow this felt completely natural to me. I hardly noticed as the hours flew by as we ran through the woods, chasing the rabbits, and marking our territory. I felt that this was where I belonged. I was disappointed when I had to go home, but I had to get back and get cleaned up before my parents came home. I made my way back to the clearing and grabbed my bag, and walked through the forest, forgetting that I was still naked. Luckily my neighbors would still be at work, and no one saw me as I made my way back to my house. The dog followed me all the way to the edge of the woods, but wouldn’t come any further. I said goodbye to him, promising I would see him tomorrow. One Inside, I tossed my bag into my room and took a quick shower. I was just finishing getting dressed when my mom returned home. I ran down to meet her, and gave her a hug. She could tell I seemed happier than usual, but I just shrugged when she asked me why. I was practically squirming out of my skin at dinner over the anticipation of spending time with the dog the next day. My parents threatened to tie me down if I didn’t eat. Somehow I managed to calm myself down long enough to eat and get to bed without getting into trouble.  I lay in my bed that night, unable to sleep with the anticipation of what fun the dog and I would have in the morning. I awoke early the next day to find that my parents had already left. I got up and grabbed a quick bowl of cereal. I was still young and didn’t have much modesty yet, so I decided to forgo getting dressed, and decided to walk out to the woods naked. It felt very liberating not to have to worry about the typical human trappings, and allowed me to bring myself more in tune with my surroundings. Without realizing it, by the time I made it to the clearing I was already on all fours. I let out a bark of greeting when I saw the dog waiting for me. I spent the rest of the day completely in dog mode. I could feel my bond with this dog growing. I have only vague memories of exactly what we did for the day, but I remember the raw emotion of it. It was the most thrilling and exciting time I had ever had. I was just barely able to return to my human self in time to get back home and cleaned up before my parents came home. The rest of the summer went pretty much the same way. I spent all day as a dog, and it was becoming so natural that I was starting to walk on all fours and bark when I was at home. My parents were starting to think that there was something seriously wrong with me. I was disappointed when summer came to an end and school was starting. It meant that I would have to sit all day and listen to the teacher and not be able to run free with my best friend. I was glad to see my human friends again, but I was having trouble adjusting back to human life. It all just seemed so bland and boring. After that summer, I went looking for that dog again many times. I was never able to find him again. I even looked through all the shelters and put out ads in the paper. It seemed as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth. I reluctantly moved on with my life, and completed school. I found a good job and ended up moving to an apartment a few miles away. I managed to assume an adult role, but something in the back of my mind kept calling me back to where I belonged. I tried to put it out of my mind. It was time to grow up and act like a man. I couldn’t be a kid anymore. My life wasn’t anything special, and I always felt it could have been so much more. I was never able to put my finger on it, but I always felt that something was missing from my life. Sometimes a small change can make all the difference. A simple decision to go right instead of left can make all the difference down the road. I tried, mostly successfully, for several years to put my adult life and job first. I found a few guys to date, and even managed to get a few raises and promotions. Still something felt wrong. As I went about my daily business, I would catch glimpses of things out of the corner of my eye. It was never very long or clear, but I could swear it was a large dog. By the time I would look around, nothing would be there. I was beginning to think I was starting to loose my mind. Over time the sightings would become more and more frequent. Sometimes I would look around and find it was simply someone walking with their pet, but often it would be in places where there couldn’t possibly be a dog. My parents decided that they would take a cruise and tour in Florida, and asked me to keep an eye on the house for them and bring in the mail. I quickly agreed, and wished them a good time on their trip. The first time I walked into the house to collect the mail, a wave of nostalgia hit me. Of course I had been back many times to see my parents, but this was the first time I had been here alone since I was a child. I dropped the mail into a box my parents had left on the kitchen table and sat down. I could almost hear the sounds and smell the smells of childhood. I was lost in thought for a long time, when suddenly I caught sight of a dog out of the corner of my eye. It looked like it was in the back yard, and I got up quickly and ran to the door. I didn’t see anything, and walked out into the backyard. Still nothing. Something compelled me to continue through the yard and to the wooded area beyond. Obviously no one had been back here for years, as thorn covered vines had grown over the paths I used to take. Still, without really knowing why, I pushed on. After a few dozen feet, the vines subsided, and I was able to walk freely about the woods. I quickly found myself back in the clearing where so many years ago I had spent that wonderful summer. I stood still and listened to the sounds of nature and let mind transport me back to that time in my childhood. After standing there for about 10 minuets, I felt totally at peace, as if this is where I was supposed to be. There was something in the air that caused all of my worries and cares to melt away. I wished I could stay forever, but I had commitments. Sadly, I took one last look around, and promising myself I would stay longer tomorrow, made my way back to the house. The rest of the day went smoothly, thanks in part to my reinvigorated sprit. I don’t know why I had stayed away so long. I got more accomplished than I had in a long time and resolved to try and keep this feeling with me. The next day, I went back to the house to get the mail. Something drew me to my childhood bedroom.  As I entered the door, I was flooded with memories of my past. It was pleasant for the most part, but I could tell that something was missing. There seemed to be a hint of something underlying the memories and feelings. It was almost as if there was a second set of memories there. If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost pick out another version of events. At first it seemed like an echo, but things were subtly different. I seemed happier and more fulfilled. There was a definite difference in the overall atmosphere. I couldn’t tell exactly what caused the change, but I could tell that this version of events was the true one, and the way things were supposed to be. I tried as hard as I could to pull in each of the alternate memories, and spent hours creating as complete a version of this alternate past as I could. The more I saw the more I was convinced that what I was seeing were real events. I yearned to return this time and wished it could have been my childhood. When I couldn’t find anything more, I decided to make my way out into the back yard. I was again drawn to the clearing. Today I was again alone, but I felt a stronger sense of calm and peace. It was as if something was pulling me towards a time and place that make all of my problems disappear. The next thing I knew, it was dark and I had spent the entire day, as far as I could tell, just standing out in the woods. Deep in my mind, I knew it was so much more. My stomach started growling, pulling me the rest of the way back to the present. I made my way back to the house, putting the mail on the kitchen table. After a quick check to make sure everything was okay, I locked up and made my way home. For the rest of the time my parents were gone, I made as much time as I could to prowl around the house hoping that I could catch another glimpse of this alternate past I had seen. I would sit on the floor in each room and close my eyes, hoping to feel the pull of the past. It was eerie and sent chills through my body every time it happened, but as the memories formed in my mind, they filled me with a happy feeling that I had never felt before. I didn’t know if was just going crazy or exactly what was going on, but I liked it. The feelings I got from the memories had the same kind of effects as a drug. I was becoming addicted to them. Almost to the point of shutting out my real life, not that it would have been too big a loss. Friday night I arranged to spend the whole weekend at the house. I was so caught up in the past that I didn’t even notice that I hadn’t really moved for nearly three days when my parents came in the door. They were surprised to find me there, but were happy to see me. We went out to eat at the local Chinese buffet, and spent several hours talking about their trip. I must have put away two or three plates of food, but I could only feign interest in their trip. I was much more interested in what I had experienced. Still, it was good to see them again. I came over many times after that, claiming I had missed them. I was really wanting to see if I could recapture what I had felt when they were gone. Nothing ever happened. I even tried coming when I knew they wouldn’t be home, but I couldn’t catch even a hint of what I had felt. I was starting to think I imagined it. I eventually went back to my normal life, going through a kind of withdrawal. I started to feel a little depressed knowing that I could have had something better, but not quite knowing what would have made the difference. A few months later, my parents called me and let me know that they had decided to retire to Florida. They had loved the tour so much, that they decided they wanted to move there. I went and helped them pack up their things, and even brought home a few of my childhood things I found along the way. I did my best to keep a happy outlook, knowing that I would be losing my connection to whatever I was experiencing. The house sold not to long after that. I was heartbroken knowing I would never again experience the euphoria I had felt that week. I would sometimes pass by the house on the way to some activity, and would feel a tugging at my heart, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to live my life as normal, but I couldn’t shake that feeling that something was supposed to be different. As time went on, I was able to bury the feeling. I went back to my life, letting the alternate memories fade from my mind. After what seemed like an eternity, things had returned almost to normal. Then I was talking to one of my coworkers, and learned that a new housing development was going in nearby. When they told me where, I realized it was right behind my childhood home. That meant that the forest and the clearing would be destroyed. I knew that if I ever wanted to figure out what was going on, I had to visit the clearing once again. I had been meaning to do it for a while now, but never had the time. Now I couldn’t wait, or I would loose the chance forever. I drove over to my old neighborhood, and pulled up on the street near my old house. I hadn’t seen it since it was sold, and the family that moved in had repainted it and done some work on it. It looked good, but something in me still preferred it the old way. Nostalgia I guess. I looked passed the house, and could see large numbers of pieces of heavy equipment moving around behind it. They were clearing out the forest, and leveling the ground. They left large bald spots and muddy patches. The land looked so sad. I knew it wouldn’t be long before they hit the clearing. I got out of my car and ran through what was left of the forest, hoping that the clearing was still intact. I felt a surge of relief through my body as I found that the machines hadn’t made it that far. They were close, I had made it just in time. I looked into the clearing, and much to my surprise, saw the dog. It looked the same as it did so many years ago. Without thinking, I started to shed my clothes. First I took off my shoes and socks. Then came my shirt, which I flung to the ground. My pants followed quickly, and my hands reached for the waist of my boxer briefs just as I was beginning to enter the clearing. I slid them down my legs, and tossed them back out of the clearing with the rest of my clothes. The air of the clearing felt wonderful against my bare skin. I smelled the air, and noticed I couldn’t detect the hint of diesel fumes in the air. It was also much quieter than outside. I spun 360 degrees taking in the sights, and was astonished at what I saw. There wasn’t a trace of the construction here. Everything was pristine and just as I had remembered it. The forest stretched on for what seemed like miles. A sense of peace came over me, as the dog approached me and started to lick my hands. I looked down at the dog, and felt the irritable urge to join it on all fours. As my knees and hands hit the ground, a wave of pleasure came over me. I looked at my body, as a think coat of blond fur started to cover it. I felt a pressure on my spine as a tail began to push its way out. As I watched in wonder, my fingers started to shift and become paws, my legs shifted and my feet took their position as paws, giving me the traditional stance of a dog. My nose flattened out, and my mouth started to push out into a muzzle. I must have looked strange as my features gradually changed, what surprised me was that I felt no pain as my muscles and bones shifted beneath my skin. It wasn’t long before my tail had reached its full length, and was covered in the same fur as my body. Following shortly after that, my muzzle finished its growth, and I could feel my ears move to the top of my head and flop over. I was amazed at the new sights and smells that I could sense through my new ears and nose. A wave of disorientation washed over me as the transformation completed. Where once a human stood, was now a perfectly formed yellow lab. I looked around, letting my new instincts take over. Everything looked the same yet different. I had a new appreciation for the simple things that I would have just ignored as a human. The dog barked, and motioned for me to follow him. I started to walk behind him, enjoying the power and felling of my new form. As we reached the edge of the clearing, I wondered what would happen. The dog had always stopped here before. Much to my surprise, he kept walking. I followed close behind, and we came up to the back of house. I recognized it immediately as the one I had grown up in, but subtly changed. It seemed newer and fresher. As I was contemplating the house, I heard the back door swing open. Looking over I saw a small boy run out of the house towards us. I was totally shocked to discover that the young boy was me! At least me as I had been at the age of 12 or so. He ran over to us and started to pet me. As he did so, my mind filled with memories of a life that never was. I remembered growing up with him, playing with him, and learning tricks from him. I could sense how much he loved me. From one of his pockets, the boy pulled out a collar, and placed it around my neck. All the while praising me and telling me what a good dog I was, and how happy he was to see me. As the Collar fastened around my neck, I snapped into this reality and became his dog. My memories of my old life floated in the background and if I concentrated really hard, I could call them back. But why would I want to? I now knew what it was that had made my life better in this universe. That revelation filled me with a sudden sense of pride knowing that everything would be better. As I settled into my new role, I vowed to do everything I could to make sure the boy’s life was the best it could possibly be. As the boy started to lead me back into the house for our evening meal, I glanced back to see the other dog give what I can only call an approving look, and start making his way back to the clearing. I can only assume that he was there waiting for the next lost soul who needed his help to find their way back to their true home.

[legendofzeldaalinktothepast]

Pathetic, Clinging Poetry - Chapter 9 (of 25)

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I cross my legs, fold my hands, Straighten out my spine, Wear a skirt, gloss my lips, For a moment that won't come.

Yet here you sit, An effortless work of art With no need for sparks Just you, and you alone; And you're brighter than the sun But I can't close my eyes.

* 

As Amethyst buried her face into her pillow, the sound of footsteps in the hallway reminded her just how late -- or early -- it was. Either Jasper was up and getting ready for work, or Pearl was up and moving around. She rolled over onto her back with a sigh, rubbing her sore eyes and ripping her headphones out of her ears. Not even her white noise playlists were enough to help her sleep, so she decided it was best to just get out of bed for the time being, even if it meant falling asleep in the middle of the day and being mocked by Jasper.

Amethyst rolled off of her bed and made her way towards her bedroom door, unlocking it and slowly pulling it open; she spotted a trail of light leading down the hallway, noticing that the curtains to the balcony door had shifted. 'Must be Pearl.' she thought with a yawn. Tying her hair up into a bun and popping a stick of gum in her mouth to freshen herself up, Amethyst slid the glass door open and peered out onto the balcony. "Morning, Pierogi."

Pearl flinched, turning back to glance at Amethyst. "O-oh, good morning!" Pearl said. The tone of her voice was clearly on-edge; she was leaning against the railing with a cup of tea in her hands, anxiously swirling it around with a small spoon. "You're up early."

"Didn't really sleep much." Amethyst shrugged, scratching the back of her head. "Insomnia can be a bitch."

"Oh, I know that feeling." Pearl said. Her gaze never left her cup of tea; Amethyst noticed it was completely full and not even steaming, and wondered how long Pearl had been stirring that cup or if she'd even drank from it at all.

"How'd it go with Rose yesterday?" Amethyst asked, leaning against the railing.

"Ah, it was wonderful... She was so happy to see me." Pearl's voice seemed to immediately perk up at the opportunity to speak about Rose. "And she was excited to finally receive the poetry book; she even reassured me that her husband wouldn't be uncomfortable with it." Pearl traced the rim of the cup with her finger, her expression dropping. "Right now, though... It's a little hard to be happy about that, because... well, she confirmed something I didn't want to hear."

Amethyst raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"She... really did abandon Jasper back in high school. And now she wants me to deliver an apology for her." Pearl sighed. "And... now I feel so foolish. When I had that fight with Jasper, I'd told her right to her face that I thought she was lying about the whole thing. Now I feel like I was being even worse than her..."

"Hey, you didn't know that, alright?" Amethyst placed a hand on Pearl's shoulder. "And with the way Jasper was acting, I really can't blame you for thinking she lied. You may have screwed up, I can't deny that, but... she's got no place to judge you either. Not after the way she acted to both of us."

Pearl took a sip of her now-cold tea. "I suppose you're right." she said. "I was never good at admitting when I was wrong... But I can't live with this tension anymore." She placed her cup of tea down on the railing, turning to Amethyst with a sad smile. "Does this kind of thing happen with you and Jasper?"

Amethyst snorted. "Like, every day. We fight over every little thing under the sun, but we don't... really make up afterwards. Just kinda act like it never happened a few hours later; we're too far up our own asses to admit when we're wrong -- and by we, I mean Jasper -- and ignoring it is the only way to keep this house from turning into a warzone." she sighed, resting her elbow on the railing. "But she can't hate me too much. Like I said, she lets me stay under her roof and eat her groceries and all that shit."

"So did my mother." Pearl regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. "I mean -- not that she's anything like my her. At least I hope to God she's not. That was a harsh comparison, but -- what I meant was, just because she does nice things for you doesn't mean there's no room for improvement."

"Hey, don't worry, you've barely told me anything about her, so I didn't think much of it." Amethyst reassured. "But... yeah, I getcha. I guess it's something I'll have to put up with until I move out. Which is probably, like, a hundred years from now."

Pearl smiled sadly. "I could say the same for myself. We're both pretty dependent on her for now, so I think it's best we both try to make things better, correct?"

"Blehh." Amethyst stuck her tongue out. "You're right, but I hate it."

Pearl placed a hand on Amethyst's shoulder. "I know. It might be easier if we talk to her together rather than approaching her individually."

"Blehhh..." Amethyst groaned even louder. "It's just kinda different because she's my sister, you know? She sees me differently than she sees you. Like, way differently."

"Yes, I know..." Pearl sighed, gently stroking Amethyst's back in an attempt to comfort her. "But that doesn't mean it's the right way. If she doesn't see you as a wonderful, talented, beautiful person, then her own sibling rivalry has blinded her, and she just needs to open up her eyes."

Amethyst huffed with amusement. "Pfft, don't try to flatter me."

"I'm not." Pearl smiled, her cheeks flushing as she rested her arms back at her sides. Even with her hair a mess and her eyes baggy from sleep deprivation, Amethyst looked serene in her own way as she gazed off into the neighborhood with her arms on the balcony railing. She had an urge to brush a strand of hair away from Amethyst's face, but restricted her temptation, feeling as if she'd already shown more physical affection than was necessary. 

"Hey... you know, I don't have to go anywhere today. Perhaps we could do something fun to get our minds off this? Maybe something low-energy, like taking a walk by the duck pond, or watching a movie at home. That is, only if you're not planning to go back to sleep, of course! No pressure either way..." Pearl blushed a little, feeling silly for temporarily forgetting that Amethyst had been up all night.

"Hm... I think my best bet would be to stay up. Wouldn't wanna fuck up my sleep schedule even more than I already have." Amethyst said, standing upright and stretching her arms. "A movie might make me sleepy, though. Let's do the walk first, maybe feed some ducks."

"Alright, perfect! A-and remember there's no pressure, if there's something else you'd rather do, feel free to throw the idea out there!" Pearl said.

"I'll be sure to keep it in mind." Amethyst said with a wink. "Lemme change into something a lil less grubby and we can head out.” 

* 

Little fuzzy ducklings peeped as they paddled behind their mother, their webbed feet kicking the surface of the water. Pearl rested her arms against the fence, unable to resist cooing at the mere sight of them. "Aren't they just precious? I wish I could take one home..."

Amethyst ripped open a bag of frozen corn, grabbing a few kernels and tossing them in the ducklings' direction. "Yeah, they're cute little guys." she said, watching as they all hurried towards the corn and gobbled it right up. "You know, I've tried to convince Jasper to let me get a bird, but she said fuck no to that." Amethyst continued, rolling her eyes. "Said they smell weird and they're loud. I think she confused them with herself."

"Wow, harsh." Pearl chuckled, reaching into the bag for some corn. She pulled out a clump of kernels that were frozen together and carefully separated them with her fingers before throwing them to the crowd of paddling and quacking ducks.

"I'm joking, she probably showers more than I do." Amethyst snorted. She somewhat regretted saying it, however; not because it was mean spirited, but because it felt like they'd already talked about Jasper enough that morning. "Anyway, one of these days I wanna come out here with a canvas and just paint in front of the duck pond."

"Oh, that's a lovely idea! And maybe one day we could do one of our collaborations here as well!" Pearl flapped her hands with excitement. "Of course, I'm sure you probably want to come out here to paint and have some alone time, too -- so no pressure."

"Pfft, you kidding? We've only done one collaboration; don't even think for a second that I'm already sick of it."

"Technically only half of one, since I didn't quite do my part..." Pearl laughed awkwardly.

"Can't blame you; writing is hard." Amethyst said.

"So is painting!" Pearl said. "Though I guess we have our own talents, so it's probably not as hard for you as it is for me. I could never do abstract art... Whenever I draw or paint, I focus so much on making sure everything is neat, perfectly in place, not a single speck out of the lines, and I need it exactly how I pictured it in my mind. It took me hours to do coloring pages as a kid, and I drove my art teachers insane."

"I drove mine insane too, but for different reasons." Amethyst said. "I'd always draw all over myself with the markers. And once they banned me from using the markers, I started eating the crayons."

Pearl burst into laughter. "You sure sound like you were a handful."

"That's putting it lightly." Amethyst tossed a corn kernel up in the air; a seagull swooped down and snatched it right up. "Whoa, did you see that?"

"I did! You have excellent aim." Pearl remarked.

"Thanks!" Amethyst held the bag of corn up to Pearl. "Here, you wanna try it?"

"Alright, but I'll warn you my aim isn't very accurate..." Pearl blushed and reached in for another handful. She winded her arm up for a moment and then tossed it up into the air; the corn, however, somehow went in the opposite direction and bounced off the head of a stranger walking past, resulting in a distant "what the fuck?".

Pearl immediately turned around and hid her face, and Amethyst wheezed with laughter. "Damn Pearl, you could throw a rock at the ground and miss!" she cackled.

"I told you I had awful aim!" Pearl blushed, but she was unable to hide the smile spreading across her lips.

"Yeah, but I wasn't prepared for it to be that bad!" Amethyst wiped a tear from her eye and sighed once her laughter died down, giving Pearl a rough pat on the back. "You crack me up, Pierogi."

Still blushing, Pearl touched a hand to her cheek. "Ah... did you feel that? I think I felt a drop of rain."

"Nope. You sure it wasn't a splash from the pond?" Amethyst asked.

"I guess it could've been..." Pearl said, turning her attention back towards the ducks. She flinched as she felt another raindrop. "Ah, there it was again! I think it's startling to sprinkle."

Amethyst felt a few drops hit her face as well. "Eh, maybe you're right." she said, wiping them off with her sleeve. "Wanna head over to that bench?" she suggested, gesturing to a old wooden bench sheltered perfectly beneath a tree.

Sprinkling turned to full-on raining, and raining turned to pouring as the two hurried over to safety. "I should have brought my umbrella along..." Pearl sighed as she sat down. "Sorry, I should have planned this a little better."

"Don't worry, I don't mind chilling in the rain for a bit." Amethyst said, sitting down beside Pearl and placing the bag of frozen corn aside.

Pearl placed her hands on her lap, twiddling her thumbs. "Alright, that's good at least. I do enjoy watching the rain every now and then... It's just strange how suddenly it came on like that!" she remarked.

"Yeah, it happens." Amethyst shrugged, leaning back and stretching her arm across the headrest of the bench. Smoothing out her skirt, Pearl found herself scooting a bit closer to Amethyst, rubbing her bare arms. "Though I wish I'd brought my jacket, or worn longer sleeves at the very least..." Pearl commented.

"No wonder you're cold, you're such a skinny little thing." Amethyst sat upright and began to unbutton her red checkered flannel. "Here, wanna borrow this?" she asked.

"Ah, but won't you be cold in just your tank top?" As cold as she was, Pearl knew she'd feel guilty if Amethyst were to sacrifice her own comfort.

"Nah, I was actually getting kinda warm." Amethyst handed the shirt over to Pearl with a smile. "Promise, it's fine."

"Alright... Thank you." Pearl blushed, slipping her arms into the flannel; it was still warm from Amethyst's body heat. "That's much better... thank you."

"No problem, girlie." Amethyst said. She stretched her arms again and placed them right back where they were; as much as Pearl tried to keep her gaze forward, she couldn't help but turn her eyes towards Amethyst every now and then, noticing how her tank top hugged her figure. Pearl also found herself eyeing the dark body hair under her arms, and this observation alone made butterflies flutter in Pearl's stomach. 'Don't be creepy.' she thought, shaking off the thoughts that began to enter her mind.

"Damn, we still got all this corn left." Amethyst said, snapping Pearl out of her little daydream. "And it's almost thawed out. Maybe I can get the ducks to come on over here."

"Good idea!" Pearl said, her cheeks still lightly flushed.

Amethyst gently shook the bag in her hand, her gaze focused on a speckled brown duck straight ahead, huddled underneath a bush with her ducklings. She turned her head towards the bag of corn, but still didn't budge from the comfort of her nest.

"Damn. Guess they're not hungry." Amethyst shrugged, tossing the bag of corn to the side. "Or at least not hungry enough to get a little wet. Which is weird, considering they're always swimming."

A sudden honk frighted both Pearl and Amethyst out of their skin, and they turned to see a huge, fat goose had approached them.

"Aw, hell yeah!" Amethyst pumped her fist, while Pearl was still recovering from the shock of its dramatic entrance. Amethyst threw a handful of corn in the goose's direction, which he happily gobbled up. "Holy shit Pearl, I've never seen a goose this big! He probably gets fed three loaves of bread a day!" She shoved her hand into pocket and retrieved her phone. "I gotta take pictures of this chunky boy!"

"What a cute little guy! Well -- not little, but you know what I mean." Pearl shyly grabbed a handful of corn from the bag. Before she could even toss it onto the ground, however, the goose leaned right up and ate the corn straight from her palm. Pearl's jaw just about dropped to the ground, and she heard the 'click' of the camera on Amethyst's phone.

"This guy's got guts!" Amethyst cackled, and the moment the goose was finished Pearl whipped a mini bottle of hand sanitizer from her skirt pocket and poured an excessive amount onto her palm. "H-he sure is eager!" Pearl stuttered, her skin crawling as she imagined just how many germs that goose must have left behind.

"Here you go big guy; since the other birds are too pussy to come out in the rain, you can have the rest!" Amethyst said, dumping the remaining corn onto the grass. The goose honked happily and wiggled its little tail as it gobbled its snack right up. "Man, I think I'm gonna adopt this little fucker. I'm gonna name him Chumbo."

"Are you planning to take him home?" Pearl teased.

"Man, I wish! But that's probably some form of illegal." Amethyst said, taking one last picture of the goose before putting her phone away. "Besides, he's probably got friends. Maybe even a wife and kids."

"Or a husband and kids!" Pearl added with a wink.

"That's true, Chumbo is definitely a fellow gay." Amethyst grinned.

As Chumbo finished up his frozen corn and waddled off, the rain finally began to slow down. "Would ya look at that! I think our buddy here controls the weather." Amethyst said.

Pearl huffed with amusement. "Yes, of course! He only made it rain because he was grumpy about being hungry." she said, pulling herself to her feet and stretching. She re-adjusted the flannel on her shoulders. "By the way, are you feeling cold yet? This flannel is so comfortable, but I don't want to keep it away from you!"

"Not at all." Amethyst reassured, pulling herself to her feet. "Besides, you look super cute in it."

Pearl blushed and covered her cheeks with her sleeves so Amethyst wouldn't see how flustered she'd gotten. "Oh, t-thank you!" she said, unable to suppress the smile spreading across her face. She took in the scent of the flannel once again, letting out a silent sigh; she could tell Amethyst had put on some sort of perfume, but it was something very mild and natural that Pearl found rather comforting, even though she couldn't make out whatever the exact scent was. "Anyway, let's head home, shall we?" she suggested.

"Good idea." Amethyst shoved her hands into her jean pockets and led the way back to the sidewalk; as they headed towards the gates of the park, Pearl's heart was still pounding in her chest. 'Calm yourself! Don't look so deeply into such a small compliment...' she thought.

As the clouds began to clear up and the sun continued its journey through the sky, Pearl caught a glimpse of a faint rainbow in the distance. The ducks began to retreat from their hiding places, and a small family of them pattered across the sidewalk in front of Pearl and Amethyst. A comfortable silence fell between the two, and for the moment, Pearl was far away from all of her unwanted thoughts. 

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Day Five: A Scandal in an Orlesian Ballroom

So I just realized I switched up themes and orders for Day 4 and Day 5 so for this day on my OC Kiss Week, the theme is “Possession” and the ficlet stars my OC Brynhild Hawke and @perfectlydrawnlines‘s Thanatos Zinovia. Sorry about the mix-up, I was suppose to write these guys yesterday but screwed up on my order. I hope this ficlet makes for that and I did your Thanatos justice. He and Brynhild decided to be rather naughty in this. XD

Orlais wasn’t Brynhild’s favorite place to be but they did have scrumptious food, new books she hadn’t had the chance to read yet, different weapons and staffs she found herself being curious about their make, and there was never a dull moment among the nobles and their incessant need to play the Game. And while she wasn’t the type of woman who into the latest fashion, the dress she wore to the latest ball in the Inquisitor’s honor was beautiful and reminded her of the good ole days in Kirkwall, where there was time for her dress in these fine clothes and had the need for it. 

The hue of the gown was of a deep sapphire, complementing her wheaten tresses and teal eyes, and gold trimmings accented all over its bodice, neckline, sleeves, and skirt, bringing out the richness of the velvet outer layer and the silk inside layer. The bell sleeves split up from her hand up to past her elbow, granting her arms more freedom in case she needed cast a spell or wield a  staff in an emergency–Vivienne De Fer’s suggestion when the woman insisted on taking her dress shopping when it was discovered she didn’t have a suitable outfit to wear for such formal occasion packed with her effects. Brynhild also approved of her blue gown’s neckline: off the shoulder and revealing so much skin, mainly because it was distracting Thanatos as much as she wanted to. She could feel his eyes rake over her exposed throat, shoulders, and upper chest, even when he preoccupied with talking to Orlesian nobles about supporting the Inquisition, and when their gazes met, she knew he would like nothing better to do than drag her to a secluded corner and devour every inch of her neck and chest. 

Then again, she longed to do the same to him, covertly admiring how the burgundy, elegantly embroidered tunic was cut to show off her lover’s form, especially around the chest. The trousers were tailored specifically to hug his thighs and calves and she fondly remembered how powerful those legs of his can be in their bedchambers. Unfortunately, given to how rigorous negotiations could be and how this grand Orlesian ball would go into the wee hours of the morning, they would probably be too tired to eagerly peel off their opulent clothes from each other’s bodies and have sex. Brynhild foresaw herself just flopping on the bed to sleep off all the booze.  

“Serah Hawke, are the rumors try about you and Inquisitor Thanatos are in the middle of a dalliance?” asked the latest nosy noble, a man with mask that looked like it was carved out of solid gold and had diamonds sprinkled all over it, nearly blinding her at times. Swishing the drink her goblet, Brynhild surreptitiously peered over at Thanatos, who was busying charming a small group of young noble ladies fawning over him and laughing at whatever he was saying. But his scrutiny strayed and returned to her, and the Champion of Kirkwall found herself smiling a little. 

“Where’s the fun of me simply telling you the truth? Stick around long enough and perhaps by the end of this evening, you’ll have the answers you seek.” She set the goblet down, smoothing out her gown. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe the Inquisitor owes me a dance.”  

The moment she left the table, Thanatos sensed her movement and went ahead to approach her, right after giving a nod and winsome half-smile at his current audience, who tittered in response. She inclined her head over at the dance floor, silently stating her question and he offered his hand in reply. As she slipped her hands over hers, the Inquisitor pulled her over to the other dancers, his grip on her firm and secure. Here they could converse in private.

“What possibly could Duke Mathys have to say to you that last for longer than ten minutes? I thought he was a shameless gossip.” Thanatos slid his hand down her back, resting his hand almost a hair breadth away from her. Already his first action was attracting a few scandalized looks. 

“He is. He managed to entertain with riveting scandals of other nobles here and was morbidly curious if I was involved in a relationship with you.” Brynhild replied, arching her back in rhythm of the music, taking dip her back even lower than necessary so her lover could get a nice glimpse of her cleavage. His hungry eyes noticed her deliberate attempt and he smirked, bringing her back into his arms nigh enough from him to spin her around so her back was facing him. Tantamount to magnets, their bodies molded perfectly together and unable to help himself, Thanatos ardently pressed his lips to Brynhild’s neck, his hands possessively caressing all over her torso prior to settling down to her hips, loving how her arse was grinding against his crouch. If they kept this up, the two of them would have leave this reverly sooner than they originally planned.

“Now why would he care about?” he whispered huskily, his breath fanning her skin. She shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t know. Mayhap he was hoping I would be available for him to pursue?” A grin tugged on the corners of her lips, relishing the pleasure Thanatos gave her as his grip on her tightened a little and he kissed her throat again, deepening it while biting and suckling on the area. They were hardly dancing down, simply swaying to the music while many of the Orlesian nobles stood by and gawked openly. Several maidens fainted, others flapped their fans excessively, and a few of the older members uttered disapproving “tut-tuts” prior to glancing away. The rest were avariciously gobbling the rather indecent but tantalizing Brynhild and Thanatos were displaying and the two mages were reveling in it.

She moaned between clenched teeth as he nipped and sucked on the bite mark with increased vigor, snaking an arm around his neck to stake her own claim on him. His chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, his mouth moving down to her shoulder and judging by the astonished gasps and reactions by the Orlesians, Brynhild reckoned the bite Thanatos gifted her was raw, large, crimson and likely start bruising tomorrow morning. 

“Well, that duke will have to look somewhere else because as he can now see, you’re busy.” Thanatos caught sight of the said Duke Mathys and flashed him a dark smile, the scars on his visage causing him to appear even more fearsome than before. The duke hastily looked down at his glass and retreated, leaving the Inquisitor to ravish his dear lover more thoroughly. Brynhild was his and he was hers, and he loved showing or reminding people of that fact. 

Brynhild stroked his cheek, shaking her head amusedly. “Play nice, Thanatos. After all, you’re the Inquisitor.”  

“Right now, all I want to do is play with you and possess you fully without a gaggle of scandalized eyes watching us, hoping for encore.” 

Mischief danced in turquoise eyes of Kirkwall’s Champion and for good measure, she rubbed her backside against his stirring member. A hiss of delight escaped him, the pants were getting tighter. “If they desire an encore, perhaps you should take me here, right now, on the dance floor.” 

“If I did that, I think Cassandra and all my advisers would kill me. I doubt Orlais could handle such a display of passion.” he teased, chortling at the expressions the Orlesian nobles would have if he actually went through with Brynhild’s jape. Maybe they would vacate the manor and actually leave the two of them alone for once. “But we can always find an used chamber to retire to, if you want to continue what we started.” 

Smirking, Brynhild Hawke slowly disengaged herself from him, waggling her eyebrows suggestively at him as he grasped her wrist, his eyes smoky with arousal. She tugged him away from the dancers, wondering how many more love bites he’d place on her by the time the night was over. “No need to tell me twice, Thanatos. Let’s give these overly curious nobles something to gossip tomorrow.” 

Laughing, the Inquisitor and Champion of Kirkwall exited the main ball room, racing down the vacant, dimly lit halls to find a room suitable for their needs. They didn’t reappear to the ball until a few hours later, pretending their absence never betided, that their hair wasn’t slightly tousled, or there was not a few more pink bites along Brynhild’s neck, back, shoulders, and chest. The nobles played along with their charade, new questions forming in their minds, such as the sexual appetite of the Inquisitor and his lover, the famous Hawke mage from Kirkwall. Stealing a couple of hours in the company and arms of his lover was well worth the cost, Thanatos mused, even if Cassandra nearly banged down his door and demanded an explanation the following day.     

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: SMUT. Angst. Infidelity. Forbidden love.

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Word Count: 3, 208 words

Read the Summary here!!

PROLOGUE-

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Your hands tremble as you stare down at the small card in your hands. 

Your presence is kindly requested at the wedding of Y/f/n Y/f/l/n and Kennedy Capuano

On June 10th-

You inhale sharply, putting it aside with shaky fingers, unable to look at the tacky floral design of the shiny exterior any longer. 

“Your presence is kindly requested at the wedding of Y/f/n-” you cut yourself off with a roughish, humorless scoff-laugh, barely able to keep a lid on your anger. 

“Is he fucking serious right now?” Despite your greatest efforts, your voice trembles with raw outrage and you run your fingers through your hair, licking your lips frustratingly. 

A habit you wished you’d never picked up from your time with him because it reminded you of him every goddamn time you did it and the thing was, you did it anytime you were upset. And thinking of him every time you were upset...it wasn’t helpful. 

“This is bullshit,” you huff under your breath, screwing your eyes shut and pinching the bridge of your nose to keep the onslaught of tears currently prickling the backs of your eyes. “Fucking bullshit.”

You didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that your own goddamn father didn’t have the basic human decency to give this to you himself or the fact that he was getting married at all. 

Everything about it was wrong. The fact that you didn’t even know he had met someone new, most of all. Was a phone call that fucking hard? 

Granted, the last time you had talked things didn’t end too well. 

He’d been endlessly complaining about you leaving and how you were “abandoning him”. When you’d used that (completely rational) “I’m eighteen now and can do as I please” card with him, he’d screamed even louder. So you started screaming back and his screams only got louder from there, so yours did too until eventually, you were just screaming so loud, it blocked out any rationale in your argument. 

You just said fuck it, picked up your stuff, your mom’s journal and left because you were so fucking done honestly. 

You thought you’d be free of everything in that little town if you just picked up and moved. 

But here it was. Here it was. 

This fucking card. This fucking invitation to a wedding you should’ve been a part of from the very fucking beginning but weren’t. As to whose fault that was? Honestly, you gave up trying to figure that out the moment you stepped foot outside of your town. It wasn’t your responsibility to decipher the complex depths of your relationship with your father anymore. And of course, you tried avoiding thinking about him as much as possible.

It was time to look forward, not back. Looking back meant letting yourself sink and you sure as hell were not a goddamn sinker. 

Not anymore, anyways. 

Because when you sunk, your instinct was to claw your way to the surface as hard as you could. You clawed and clawed, hoping you could eventually feel the warmth of the sun on your skin again. 

Hoping, clawing, hoping, clawing...it was a vicious cycle but the truth was, the water was too much, too strong, too overwhelming, too consuming-- it’d swallow you whole inevitably. So no matter how hard you fought, clawed, hoped... it'd gobble you into its dark abyss. 

Eventually, you’d tire out. your muscles would ache with the weight of your hope resting so heavily on your shoulders and you’d give out. The water was infinitely insistent though, it never ceased to tug and each time, it’d get stronger and stronger. 

You decided to stay away from the water altogether. No sense in getting close to something so dangerous. The last time you dipped your toes in...look what it got you.

But now...the water was beckoning, calling you its depths. 

This fucking card. 

*

Margo twirls the card in her fingers, humming pensively. “And you’re not even a little tempted to go?”

“Nope,” your matter-of-fact response is muffled through your mouthful of cereal, as you perch another sock-clad foot on the stool you’re seated on.

Margo, looks at you, deadpanning. “Y/n, he’s your dad,” she starts and you already know where this is going. 

You quickly swallow your mouthful of cereal, shaking your head. “Doesn’t mean I have to go to his wedding with what’s-her-face.”

“Kennedy,” she corrects.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. Point is, I could care less about his stupid wedding and Kennedy and I sure as hell have no burning desire to go back to that stupid little town.”

“Why?” she blurts suddenly. 

You look up at her incredulously. “What do you mean why?” 

She raises a brow. “No seriously. Why? You keep saying it’s because it didn’t let you reach your full potential but why do I get the feeling there’s more to it than just that?” she peers carefully at your face.

You never could keep anything from her.

Looking down, you pretend to be interested in your fuzzy Christmas-themed socks because you can’t face her right now, petrified that she’s going to pry the truth out of you. That she’ll eventually know the real reason you left. 

So you do what you do best; you deflect. “I was just tired of it. Tired of all the superficial gossip and small-minded people that lived there, you know?” you shrug, looking at her with a small smirk. “And you're going to tell me you don’t agree?”

She sighs, trying (and failing) to conceal a small grin tugging at her lips. “No, I’m not. But- I mean c’mon, Y/n! You seriously don’t want to see your dad get married?”

You think about it, your resolve faltering in the slightest because despite wanting to be selfish like he’s been, despite wanting so badly to be able to say ‘I don’t care’ with all certainty, you can’t. You fucking can’t, because just the thought of your dad possibly being happy--it warmed your heart. 

Because maybe he’s finally found someone that could fill that hole your mother’s death left. And you hated that.

“N-not really,” you hesitate only a little bit, but she notices. Of course she does. Sharp-eyed Margo, always on the hunt for the smallest tell-tale.

Snorting lightly, she takes a sip of her steaming mug of coffee. “Yeah? Well doesn’t sound like it, baby girl.” 

You look at her. “Margo,” you warn in a snarl. 

“Y/n,” she titters, smiling sweetly. 

You huff, as of to say ‘you’re impossible’ before wordlessly taking another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

Her face flattens out into a serious expression, lips pursing in understanding. “I know you left that stupid little town to leave behind your past, but it’s about time someone told you that that’s pretty much impossible to do.” She waves her finger in your face jokingly. “It’ll always come back~” she sing-songs.

The weight of the truth in her words hit you like a ton of bricks. Still, you swallow harshly and try really hard to keep your composure with a raised brow because you knew she was right and it irked more than you were willing to admit. 

“No? Watch me.” 

You walk over to the kitchen sink, throwing your empty bowl inside to wash later. Just as you go to pull back, Margo ceases your wrist. 

Your eyes jump to hers instantly, brows furrowed. Her face is pulled into a tight expression; concern. 

“I’m worried about you, b. Ever since you left you’ve been weird. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You stare into her earnestly worried chocolate orbs for a second before breaking down. With a reassuring smile, you pat her arm. 

“Hey,” you mumble softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out eventually.” You don’t try to act like you’re okay, because you know she can see right through you and it would only hurt her more to see that you weren’t willing to admit even just that.

She looks at you for a second longer, as if debating whether to say anything to you before ultimately deciding not to. She smiles softly. “Okay.”

You hold back the overwhelming urge to let your shoulders sag in relief and go to move away before she stops you again. “And Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“At least promise me you’ll think about it. I know it’s been hard for you, but coming from someone who’s seen what grudges can do to a person firsthand, you might want to at least consider it.” 

You open your mouth to answer hear but are interrupted by a pair of strong, tanned arms grabbing you from behind and picking you up with ease. He twirls you around, hugging you close to his chest. “I fucking missed you.”

You immediately recognize the smooth, masculine voice and the familiarity of it makes you smile.

You yelp, gripping onto his arms for dear life. “Daniel, for fuck’s sake put me down!” 

His arms tighten around you, nearly crushing you to death. “Never!” he declares dramatically. 

Fits of laughter escape you as he puts you down. You clumsily stumble around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Why are there two of you?” you slur slightly, dizzy from all the spinning. 

His arms instinctively wrap around your waist as he pecks your nose. “Why are there three of you?”

You both laugh, and he leans down to whisper. “Not that I mind, truthfully.” 

You snort, playfully shoving his face away. “You’re so stupid.” 

He winks, sweeping a long strand of blond hair away from his face. “Only for you, babe.” 

You go to retort something (let’s be truthful; probably as cheesy as him) when Margo interrupts with obnoxious and overly-dramatic gagging sounds. 

You turn to look at her and she sighs, “you guys are too cute. It’s disgusting.” 

Daniel smacks your ass as you walk over to her. You yelp, glaring up at him as he winks at Margo smugly. 

“Don’t hate on us just ‘cause you can’t get any, M,” he sing-songs.

Margo rolls her eyes, picking her keys off the kitchen counter. “I will have you know I get plenty, Addington,” she emphasizes the last name, smirking. 

Margo had picked the nickname the moment she laid eyes on Daniel, a reference to the move Surfer, Dude with Matthew McConaughey.

Because Daniel was, in all respects of life, a typical surfer dude. 

You couldn’t help but snort, using your hand to hide it (very poorly, by the way). 

Daniel turns to you, horrified. “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side, babe?”

You shrug at him, barely holding back a grin. 

Margo shakes her head at you two, a small smile tugging at her lips. “K, well I’m out bitches. See ya’ tomorrow.” She walks out of the apartment, closing the door behind her. 

“God, I hope not,” Daniel whispers under his breath. 

You immediately smack him on the arm, glaring daggers into him. “Daniel!”

He grunts, rubbing at the sore spot on his arm furiously. “Ow! What the hell, babe!? I was kidding!”

You smile with sickly sweetness, gripping his jaw in your hands firmly. “I sure hope so, because that girl is my best friend and I owe her a whole lot. I better not hear you talking about her like that again.” 

He rolls his eyes playfully, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer to him. “I fucking love when you get all bossy, you know that? You’re so hot.” 

You can’t help it when a devious smirk slips out. “Is that so?” You whisper, leaning to barely kiss him. Teasing, as you’d come to find out later, was something you enjoyed far too much. It was especially so with Daniel. 

His eyes grow dark and half-hooded with desire and you can already feel his hard-on pressing against your lower half.  

“It is,” he rasps, hands gently kneading at your hips. 

You moan lowly, leaning in to kiss him, slow and heavy. He kissed back immediately, hands wrapping around your ass to lift you up. You wrap your legs around him to steady yourself, hands gripping his strong tan shoulders. 

His hands find their way under your tank top and his fingers lightly trail over your stomach. You shiver under his watchful gaze, trying to get lost in his touch as it sneaks closer and closer to your breast.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes huskily against you, kissing your chin, then your jaw before trailing down to your neck where he kisses you roughly. 

You try to make your body feel intoxicated with the mere brush of the pads of his fingers, rough from polishing boards all day, from being in salt water for too long. You try to get dizzy with the mere scent of his hair, which lightly smelt of saltwater and sweet shampoo, you try to get your heart to race with every caress of his hands on you, with every kiss he softly planted on your skin, but-

“Stop,” you rasp breathlessly, shoving him away.

He doesn’t stop though, only continues to kiss your neck. “Why? You smell so fucking good, all I wanna do-”

“Daniel, stop. Seriously.” You shove him again, a little harder this time.

This time he stops, thank God. But he’s clearly pissed. 

“Why?” he insists, this time with more conviction than before.

You purse your lips, rubbing your arm nervously. “I’m just not ready yet,” you mumble sheepishly, feeling kind of bad about leaving him high and dry when he was so clearly, um...excited.

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Then when will you be ready, huh!? We’ve been together for a whole year now, for chrissake! You always do this to me, dammit. You always tease me and-”

“I know!” you yell. “Fuck, I know, Daniel okay? I don’t do it on fucking purpose, though. And I’m not going to give up my virginity if I’m not completely sure it’s what I want!”

He laughs humorlessly, stepping away from you as if you’ve burnt him. “Are you sure it’s not on purpose?”

Your anger sizzles low in your stomach and you raise your brow challengingly at him. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

He purses his lips and shakes his head. “Nothing. You know what? Forget it, Y/n.” 

You reach out for him, guilt squeezing at your heart. “Dan-” you mumble softly.

He evades your touch, glaring at you. “I just need some air,” he mumbles, stalking away. 

He walks straight out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. 

You jump at the sound, sighing tiredly. 

You hated to admit it, but he was right. You’d been together for a little over a year but every time you tried to have sex, you just couldn’t go through with it. 

Something about it just didn’t feel right. 

Daniel was nice enough, tall blonde and hot in that sun-kissed surfer dude kind of way. Plus he was charming and fun. 

And yet...

 And yet- funny phrase isn’t it? It implies that even though everything about someone may be everything you should want, it’s still not what you want. 

He’s virtually perfect and yet, you haven’t been able to fall in love with him. Haven’t been able to feel what he made you feel. Not even a little bit. 

Because fuck, that’s what it all came down to isn’t it? 

Daniel just wasn’t him. His touch was nice, but it wasn’t his. His personality was warm and friendly, but it wasn’t his.

He wasn’t Christopher Robert fucking Evans. 

And you hated yourself for comparing everything Daniel did to him. Detested yourself for thinking that his kiss could never heat your skin the way his did. That his gaze could never have the power over your very being that his did.

You absolutely abhorred yourself for not being able to forget him, not being able to erase his mark on your heart, no matter how hard you’d been fighting against it. How hard you continued to fight against it.

You constantly had to remind yourself that it wasn’t okay to keep holding onto the past. Every day, for the last two years, you’ve had to remind yourself that you chose this. That even if it was what was supposed to happen, you didn’t have a right to want more than you got. That moving on with your life was what was for the best. 

So then why didn’t it feel like it?

You had hope, though. You believed that if you wanted to love Daniel enough, you eventually would. You just needed time. 

More time and you’d be able to get Chris Evans out of your system. Forever.

You sigh again, deciding you weren’t going to think about that anymore. It wasn’t going to get you anywhere, anyway. 

You had no classes today, so you decided to get ahead on your work. Walking over to your couch, you pull out your laptop.

This was Daniel’s parents’ apartment. He was pretty well off as his dad was a software developer for some huge tech company you can’t remember the name of and his mother a successful criminal psychiatrist. 

They got him this apartment a while ago and when you’d started dating, he asked you to move in. Of course, you said no initially, that was insane. You explained this to him, conveying exactly why it’d be a bit too much to move in together after only just getting into a relationship.

But eventually, he'd managed to convince you. I mean, honestly, it wasn’t that hard. A huge apartment you didn’t have to pay a whole bunch of rent for and also get to share with your hot boyfriend wasn’t the worst deal.

You just wish you could love him as much as he loved you. You’d get there eventually, you had no doubt.

You try to work, you really do, but the words are blurring together, interlocking, becoming knotted with each one you tried to type. It was far too tedious to try to focus now and quite pointless too.

Your mind is so clogged with messy thoughts, you decide it’s better for you to go for a jog, let off some steam and come back with a clearer head to reassess. 

You change into your jogging clothes- sports shorts, bra, and a sweatshirt. You tie on your running shoes and tie your hair into a high pony, grabbing your bottle of water on your way out. 

You decide to take on a few laps around your local park, plugging your earbuds in. And because life just hates you like that, of course the first thing that comes up on shuffle is I Hate Myself For Loving You by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts. 

Despite the heaviness the mere initial cords bring to your heart, you don’t skip to the next song and the gritty rawness of Jett’s voice more or less setting the tempo of your jog. Your feet hit the pavement beneath your feet in sync with the beat of the song. 

Something in the lyrics hits a nerve a bit too close to home and you gasp for air, the words puncturing you straight in the heart. 

“I hate myself for loving you Can't break free from the things that you do I wanna walk but I run back to you That's why I hate myself for loving you” 

You run harder, trying to sweat off the heaviness in your chest. Running away from the haunting ache that resonates from deep within you or trying to regain control of yourself, you don’t know for sure. 

You do hardcore sprinting for a few more laps before eventually deciding to slow down to a light jog, rethinking what’d occurred today as you took a sip of your water bottle. 

That invitation jolted something in you, a container you’d spent a long time trying to keep a tight lid on, and popped it open, spilling about your goddam guts.

The past was rushing back to haunt you and now the ball was in your court. Were you going to let it in and have it disturb the present’s peace, or were you going to lock it out and lose the chance at closure?

The real question was; did you even have a choice?

Read Chapter One Here!!

***

Are you excited? Cause I sure as hell AMMMMMMM

A Special Thanks to:

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An of course my incredible forevers!

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