#/had realized i would go insane and would have at least tried to switch shifts with someone on tuesday

[nebulaedaniel]

terrible influence is the most accurate show name ever bc why was i cooking dinner and seriously considering if i would be able to get to the oslo show tomorrow and then back home the same day

[nezuchuuko]

off the cuff and unorganized thoughts about gay mac and anything relating to it

ok i didn't watch it's always sunny for the gay. tbh when i decided to watch it i honestly forgot there was a canon gay character even though i remember hearing whispers about it when he first came out. watching iasip wasn't supposed to be anything serious - i just wanted a brainless tv series to watch because i'm going thru it and lack an attention span atm. but iasip has proven to be something worth analyzing (what a plot twist).

and lol i didn't even know who the canon gay character was but i figured it had to be between dennis and mac, and was convinced it was dennis because i'd argue dennis has more gay jokes/comes across gayer than mac in early seasons. so i was honestly shocked to find out once i accidentally spoiled myself that it was mac lol.

so it's interesting witnessing the evolution of the gay mac jokes because the punchline used to come from how mac wasn't gay, but how he always found himself in misunderstandings where ppl thought he was. that or the jokes would be about how he keeps making gay innuendos.

then the jokes shifted into how mac was obviously gay but shoved himself so deep into the closet that he deluded himself into thinking he's straight. the gang knows he's gay. everyone knows he's gay. the punchline was mac somehow didn't know.

so after mac comes out naturally the jokes had to change because mac finally knows he's gay and was finally coming to terms with it.

i read some articles about the episode "mac finds his pride" and it baffled me to learn there was enough backlash from queer fans to make the creative team behind iasip to reconsider keeping mac in the closet. like don't get me wrong i love mac coming out for good and i love that it led to us eventually getting "mac comes out" but i just don't get why ppl would complain about mac choosing to stay in the closet.

staying in the closet wouldn't have made him any less canonically gay, and complaining that this would've made mac unrelatable or bad representation is just a joke. you're not supposed to identify with these characters. they're monsters! at least 2 of them are rapists so demanding mac to be "good gay representation" is just insane to me.

the iasip creator/mac's actor said it but gay mac isn't suddenly going to make him a model citizen because that's not how things work. but ironically i think he still fell into that same pitfall more or less.

i think the gay mac jokes work less than when mac was still in the closet because to some extent it seems that mac tries to be more of a voice of reason. and i would've loved it if it was more of a riff on people's weird and unrealistic expectations of gay people where they HAVE to be the perfect role models or else but that's not the intention.

mac starts to be super clingy and desperate for dennis' attention which would also be fine because of his new realized crush on him, but i wish mac was still just as willing to hurt dennis. i did love when mac poisoned dennis to keep him dependent on him cause that's the kind of toxic behavior i wanna see.

also dennis' sudden change in feelings towards mac felt jarring because the whole appeal to macdennis to me is how they're somehow worsties AND besties. they should love each other's presence just as much as they want to slit each other's throats.

but s13 mentions dennis doesn't see mac as his best friend and the gang thought this was an obvious fact? like the dennis who said that mac and him were blood brothers? the same guy who has monthly dinners with mac at a fancy restaurant and stresses about it being perfect?

like going from mac's dennis wetdream/irl sequence of dennis leading him on to dennis finding mac completely unbearable felt off. i don't mind a deterioration of their relationship because that would be delicious in its own right but i wish it was just a flip of a switch and that it was more gradual. hell i don't even mind the idea of macdennis never getting together. i just want dennis to return mac's feelings for him. and if they do become a couple i hope they break up all the time.

mac's and dennis' weird new characterization seem to have settled down a little at least so i think the writers were really struggling with the change in the gang's dynamics... and might still be??

[starry-blue-echoes]

Y E P

And it is…… chaotic to say the least. And then there’s also the insanity of the differing body languages too and how they carry themselves

Josuke and Jotaro have it arguably the easiest, with only the main changes being their tone and how much they talk. Jotaro doesn’t talk too much, and his words are usually on the quieter side and gruff, and Josuke meanwhile is pretty loud and wears his heart on his sleeve. There also the differing body languages. Josuke is more casual and relaxed, not really caring much, while Jotaro is a bit more….. hunched in on himself let’s say. He hates when people give him unwanted attention and tries his best to fade into the background

Honestly if these two actually had any friends prior to canon they’d be positively fucked because there was no chance of them being able to convincingly pretend to be the other.

(also, technically unrelated, but I just realized that Jotaro would have the perfect excuse for his shift in personality to any others who would notice, and that’s Josuke’s grandfather’s death. It would be easy to write off his attitude as grief)

Jonathan and Jolyne have it a tad rougher since Jonathan has a pretty thick British accent and 1880s slang, but it’s nothing too difficult. Body language though, that’s going to be REALLY different. For one there’s the massive size difference between the two and having to get used to that. Jonathan caries himself in a softer way. He knows how big and intimidating he is, so he tries to make himself seem smaller. He’s still confident, but his body language is soft and obvious. And when he’s in Jolyne’s body there’s also a slight air of discomfort. Jolyne though? She is confident and stands tall, and absolutely takes advantage of her new found size and strength

As for Giorno and Joseph, they have the added joys of a language barrier :D

Both of them know a decent amount of the other’s language, but it’s still going to be rather noticeable. Admittedly, I think that only Giorno is going to be seen as anything noteworthy since the Bucci Gang wouldn’t know a whole lot about Joseph, and he could just say “I’m pretty new to Italy” and they wouldn’t really have time to fact check it. I do have the fun mental image of every once in a while when Joseph gets very stressed/upset/angry he’ll accidentally switch to English and start cursing in a very thick accent

Body language wise I can see Joseph being really similar to Josuke, just throw in a bit more playfulness. Giorno I think has that kind of calm confidence that he wears like a second skin, not seeming that arrogant but still looking like he knows completely what he’s doing

Star Swap, thinking about how long it'd take before people found out.

Jotaro in Josuke's place is definitely the fastest to be found out. He does not know how to do the hair. He doesn't even know TO do the hair. Tomoko's clued into something being wrong FUCKING IMMEDIATELY and, especially given how Jotaro's going to respond to her, she's not going to let it rest till she figures it out. And then older Jotaro arrives and uhhhh yeah he's going to recognize the familiar Angst

Josuke in Jotaro's place, honestly unsure. Holly's observant, and would notice right away, but I don't know how much she'd push it, if at all, and then she gets sick, and Joseph, while super observant, hasn't seen Jotaro in a while to be able to have a baseline. I think Josuke would want to tell people, but there's so much going on that nobody can really focus on figuring it out or deciding who/how to tell.

Nobody knew Giorno well enough to tell prior to part 5. It's all down to if Joseph chooses to tell anyone. And honestly... He might. Trish especially, he might as a way of sharing his own experiences to let her know she's not alone in feeling lost and homesick and in over her head.

Giorno's going to try and hide it. Erina and Speedwagon will notice something's up, but not push enough to figure it out. And Giorno's a good actor. Maybe he'll tell Suzie or Caesar some of it eventually, but... It'd be hard for him.

Jolyne, uh. Dio figures out That's Not Jonathan immediately but it's shortly before he used the mask so he's not seen any supernatural shit yet and is supremely confused. He wouldn't know how it happened or how to respond at ALL. And George might take it as a rebellious phase or some shit, given that he's distracted by being poisoned. I could see her telling Erina once she shows up though.

Jonathan has a month at best before he's forced to tell someone. He does not know how to deal with periods in Jolyne's body. He was raised by a single father in the late 1800s. He's going to have to ask Hermes or someone for help, and probably explain why he doesn't know, and thus where/when he's from, in the process. And honestly he probably wanted to tell someone early on, but was taking a minute to settle in and try not to upset his presumed descendant's life and then he got framed and the chaos and he didn't know who to trust at first- he's glad to tell someone.

YESSSSSSSSS

Out of all the Jojo’s, Jotaro is the most fucked about keeping this secret. The morning he wakes up it doesn’t matter what he does, Tomoko is going to be on him in an instant and he has no chance whatsoever at keeping the body swap a secret. Honestly Tomoko might connect the pieces pretty quick and could even confront him in a “who are you and what have you done with my son” way within a day or two of “Josuke” acting off. On the plus side Josuke doesn’t seem to have had….. really any friends prior to Diamond so that’ll make things a bit easier at least.

Thing are DEFINITELY going to be awkward between Tomoko and Jotaro tho. He’ll explain the situation as best he can, but there isn’t much he can offer beyond theories and giving a more in depth explanation of his admittedly limited knowledge about Stands. Both are struggling to figure out What The Fuck Do We Do, but they’d probably end up working together. Admittedly things are still tense, and it only gets worse when 4taro shows up, doubly so when he learns this kid is apparently his grandfather’s bastard son.

(also I can definitely see Jotaro calling Holly at some point. He doesn’t say anything, but just hearing her voice on the other end of the receiver, hearing proof that she was still alive…… it took a weight off his shoulders)

And your thoughts are basically the same as mine when it comes to Josuke. Holly would definitely realize something was wrong, but she wouldn’t have time to tell anybody because of the Stand Sickness. There would also be an added layer to Josuke’s panic because He Can’t Fix This, and seeing her illness from a Stand would ironically remind him of his own sickness when he was a boy. At least the Crusaders have a healer now?

Joseph…… that’s a tricky one. Nobody knows him so they’d have no reason to even suspect anything. Telling Trish would be an interesting idea, but there is also the chance that he just. Never does. Parts of his story yes, mentioning the Pillarmen and his experiences possibly, implying time travel MAYBE, but he might not mention the “I might be possessing a 15 year old’s body”

For Giorno, while he’d definitely be able to get away with it on Air Supplena, Speedwagon and Erina are going to notice immediately. They might be hesitant to push in the beginning because Joseph growing that withdrawn could be seen as something having happened emotionally, but I think eventually they’d put together the pieces that this isn’t their grandson

Jolyne in Jonathan’s body……. That’s going to be pure fucking gold. She does not take ANY of Dio’s shit. Also, I really like the idea of her telling Erina. After all…… she isn’t the man Erina loves, she’s merely inhabiting his body. It would feel wrong to take advantage of her in such a way, especially because of how genuine those feelings seem to be. And Dio figuring it out himself is just 🤌

And Jonathan. Poor, poor Jonathan. Out of everyone he’s going to have easily the hardest time adjusting. And what if the thing with Hermes is just his absolute breaking point. He’s tired and confused and now he’s bleeding and everything hurts and he just wants to go home, so when Hermes asks hims what’s wrong everything just comes crashing down

And Hermes….. was not at all expecting this. Sure ‘Jolyne’ was a little weird, but she’d just chalked that up to that just being how she was, that that was just her personality. But this? Forceful time travel into a body that didn’t belong to them??? Yeah that wasn’t ANYWHERE on the list

[emolooswrld]

Hello! Could you do Eddie being completely oblivious to a quiet girl from school that likes him and only really realizing it when one day she comes up to him when he's alone and very nervously asks him out.

hi lovely!! ugh yes this is such a good idea. i tried my absolute best! i kind of switched the plot around a little bit n made them best friends, but reader is still very shy n quiet. i really hope you like it<333

it was honestly getting pathetic at this point. you were absolutely head over heels for your best friend. the loud, dnd playing, metal head, eddie munson. though you two could not be more different.

you were shy, to say the least. your nose always buried in a book. you wouldn’t dream of climbing on top of the lunch table, screaming at random students. which is exactly what eddie was doing right now. you hid your face in the book you were reading, an attempt to hide from the eyes of all your peers.

when eddie finally sat back down again, he leaned over to you, pushing your book down so he could see you. “you really have to stop hiding every time i cause a scene.” he grinned. you closed your book and set it on the table. “you know i hate the feeling of people watching me. it makes me uncomfortable.” you contorted your face in discomfort. “oh cmon sweetheart,” he leaned in so close you could feel his breath on your lips. “i know you secretly want the attention.” eddie winked. you playfully shoved him away, hoping he didn’t notice the way your breathing had significantly increased. or the way your heart practically leapt out of your chest.

this was normal for you two. always flirting meaninglessly, except for you, it was never meaningless. your heart ached every time eddie did or said anything even remotely flirty. knowing it was all a joke to him, hurt you in ways you didn’t think were possible. it was always pretend and it would never be real, no matter how hard you wished and prayed it would be.

“cmon y/n! just tell him how you feel! he 100% feels the same way. i can tell by just the way he looks at you!” you had confided in robin about your major crush on eddie long ago. she had been practically begging you for months now to just tell eddie how you felt. and every time you would respond with the same stupid excuse.

“i cant! what if he doesn’t feel the same? then our friendship will be completely ruined and ill end up being even more miserable then i am now.” robin sighed and rolled her eyes. “you both are absolutely oblivious. it’s so obvious your totally head over heels for each other. literally everyone can see it but you two.” you shook your head.

“robin i just can’t risk it.” you fell backwards into your bed. “besides i wouldn’t know how to even go about asking him out. i mean what am i supposed to say? “hey eddie, just wanted to let you know i’ve been completely and utterly in love with you for three years now. wanna go out?” that sounds fucking insane.” robin tried to stifle a laugh, but failed miserably. you threw one of your pillows at her. “okay! okay! im sorry!” robin put her hands up in a surrendering motion.

“definitely don’t say it like that, but you really should just talk to him. i promise you he feels the same. if im wrong ill cover all of your shifts at family video for an entire month.” you immediately sat up to look at her. “are you seriously trying to bribe me into telling eddie how i feel?” robin shrugged. “is it working?” you couldn’t say it wasn’t. “a little bit..”

“then make it two months. if you tell eddie how you feel and he rejects you, i will cover all of your shifts for two whole months.” robin took two fingers to her chest, crossing her heart. “and what if he doesn’t?” she smirked mischievously. “then you have to take all of my shifts for two months.”

you thought about it for a minute. it was kind of a win-win situation. if you told eddie how you felt and he rejected you, you would have all of your shifts covered for two months. you would be able to hide in your room, away from everyone. especially eddie. but if you told eddie how you felt and he felt the same, you would finally be with eddie. yeah, you’d have to cover robins shifts for two months, but that was a measly price to pay.

you held your hand out to robin. “deal.” she smiled so wide you swore the corners of her mouth almost touched her eyes. “deal.” she said as she shaked your hand. as soon as robin left, a million thoughts raced through your mind. the biggest one being, oh god what did i do.

the next day at school, you were a nervous wreck. you had spent almost the whole night planning what you were going to say to eddie. you practically had the whole speech memorized before you even made it to the school parking lot. you repeated in your head like a mantra throughout the whole day.

you had asked eddie to meet you in the woods after school. he had assumed it was just to smoke a joint as you two did that quite frequently. little did he know, you were about to confess all of your feelings for him you had kept hidden for the past three years.

your heart hammered in your chest as you made your way through the woods. you silently prayed to the universe that this would go as you hoped. you didn’t know what you would do if he rejected you. you didn’t want to even think about it.

as soon as you reached the picnic table, eddie flashed you a toothy smile. “hey sweetheart,” he held up a freshly rolled joint in between his fingers. “you ready to smoke this shit? it’s really strong so you might wanna go easy.” you smiled at him. “actually there’s something i need to talk to you about.” you said as you nervously sat on the edge of the table.

eddie looked concerned. “hey, what’s wrong? are you okay?” he reached across the picnic table, taking your hands in his, rubbing the backs of them with his thumb affectionately. “no no im fine. i just- i need to tell you something.” he stared into your eyes intensely, almost as if he was trying to read your mind. “im listening.”

you took a deep breath, looking down at both of your hands intertwined. it was now or never. “i don’t really know if there’s an easier way to say this so im just going to get right to the point.” you paused, taking the time to try and calm yourself down before you continued. you felt eddie squeeze your hands, encouraging you to go on. it was all you needed to keep going.

“i’ve had feelings for you for a long time now. there’s just something about you that drives me absolutely insane. your just so different from everyone else and i admire that. your so sure of yourself and your so fucking kind and considerate. you always put everyone before yourself. you care so deeply for all of the people in your life. you just have this way of making everyone feel seen. your just so perfect. i never told you how i felt because i was so scared of being rejected. im still fucking terrified-i-you’re my best friend eddie and i don’t know what id do without you because i just love you so much and i totally understand if you don’t feel-“ you were cut off as eddies lips crashed into yours.

you gasped in surprise. though it didn’t take you long to melt into the kiss. the feeling of eddies lips against yours was like pure ecstasy. the way your lips fit perfectly together made you think you were made for each other. the kiss had your toes curling and your chest heaving. it wasn’t until eddie pulled away that you finally looked at him.

his eyes were full of love and pure adoration. “you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that.” he said with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. “really?” the way you were still unsure of his feelings towards you made eddie chuckle. “yes really. y/n i’ve been in love with you since the day i met you. i just never thought you would ever feel the same.” you giggled. “i guess we’re pretty oblivious aren’t we?” you asked with a smile. “yeah. total idiots.” you both laughed.

you knew you were going to have to take all of robins shifts for the next two months, but you didn’t mind. it was a small price to pay considering you were finally eddies and he was finally yours. nothing could ever ruin that.

[limenysnocket]

Expensive Thrifting

Taika Waititi x Reader

Summary: Like a lot of girlfriends, you steal your boyfriend's clothes. But, what happens when roles switch, and your boyfriend steals your clothes?

Request: @honorarytenenbaum (FROM A LONG TIME AGO I'M SORRY)

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 1.7k another shorty for you

A/N: Okay. So. To get back into the spunk of things, I've decided to challenge myself to write a fluffy fic this time. I didn’t edit it much, so be prepared for mistakes.

@honorarytenenbaum @olyvoyl

•○●•○●•○●•

"Hey Taik," your voice echoed through the large house, from your room, down the stairs and into the living room. "Have you seen my DBZ hoodie anywhere?"

You don't receive an immediate answer, so you go to look for yourself. After a quiet walk down the stairs, peering around every corner for him, you find him sitting in the living room, sitting on the couch, in a very... awkward position.

"Are you okay?" you were concerned. You've never seen his leg bend like that before.

Taika's head snaps right to you, and he looks speechless. He's trying to come up with something. "I'm great. Just chilling. Watching..." he looks to the television screen. The television wasn't even turned on.

"Go on," you encourage, now leaning on the guardrail to the steps and tilting your head. He's still quiet.

After another long, insane moment of hesitation, he finally picks up a bowl from the ground. "Grapes?" He offered them out to you, and all you did was just stare at them.

"No, I'm good," you hummed, eyebrows furrowed while Taika still tried hard to play it cool. "While you were having a stroke, I'm assuming, I think I lost my Dragon Ball Z hoodie. Have you seen it at all, or did it get mixed in with your laundry?"

"Uh, no. Nope. I don't even like that show. Sorry," he looked away and up at the ceiling like a purposely oblivious little boy. You were starting to catch on. Suspicious, but you didn't have enough evidence.

"It's hard to miss, Taika. You seriously didn't notice it going into the wash with your clothes? At all?" you held your hands up, and he began to twiddle with his thumbs.

"Nuh-uh," his answer was stout. He was still avoiding eye contact with you. You gave up.

"Fine," you huff, then drop down from the final step. "I'm just gonna go have a look for myself. You know, just in case." You walked right by him. His position didn't waver, except for his eyes that were bouncing all over the place in order to still avoid you.

Instead of actually digging through laundry, you hid behind a corner, and lurked there to casually stalk your boyfriend. He was still acting weird when you left. He would check over his shoulder from time to time, and after a minute or so, you finally saw him get up and start digging through the couch cushions. He didn't make much of a sound, but he certainly found something that he liked, because he picked something up, and he had the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face.

All it took was a little glimpse of red-orange fabric and you knew. He had your hoodie.

You burst from your hiding place instantly. "Taika David Cohen, I know what you're hiding!" You shout at him and instantly he's a deer in headlights, but not for long. His eyes never moved from yours and there was a brief moment of silence. He juked the couch corner once, at first thinking he should run to the kitchen, but ultimately made a break for the stairs, hoping to make it to the bedroom with the only lock. You, like a dope, ran right after him.

His long legs helped carry him, but you had unwithering speed and determination. At the end, he almost had you. His hand was on the doorknob and he was just about to slam the door shut to lock, but you pushed through like a tank and plowed into him. The force you had knocked him back onto the bed, but the hoodie was still in his hands. You reached for it, but he scrambled to the other side of it. He didn't notice where the bed ended, and fell to the ground as a result. He picked himself up, thankfully unhurt and unphased by the whole chase, and the thing you wanted was still in his grasp.

"Taika," you were panting on the other side of the bed, and you outstretched a frustrated hand. "Give me the hoodie."

"Absolutely not," he wasn't breathing as hard, and he hugged the hoodie close to his chest.

"This is the third time this week! Give me the damn hoodie! I just washed it!" You shake your hand to add emphasis, but all he does is just look at it with a disgruntled attitude.

"It's your fault for being gullible and not watching your things better," he stuck his tongue out at you, childishly. The longer this went on, the more huffy you became. All you wanted to do was relax in your favorite hoodie and maybe cuddle a little bit! That's all!

"Okay, that was a low blow from the biggest procrastinator on earth. And, like you said, you don't even like Dragon Ball! Why the fuck do you want it so bad!?" It was a petty argument, sure, but you were a bit hardheaded, so why not drag this out a little longer?

"I could like it!" He shouted and spluttered, trying to come up with excuses. "And it's comfortable. It's a massive size!" He held it out in his hands, just looking at it, and his eyes lit up. "We could share!"

"No."

His idea was stomped out quickly, and he went back to pouting. He wouldn't give it up yet.

You sighed, getting tired of trying to find a solution. Your eyes started to trail, looking for something, anything, to call it even. Just to your luck, you landed on the closet.

"Give me your One Piece sweater," you said, and folded your arms.

Taika, still admiring the piece of clothing in his arms, became suddenly baffled and looked right at you. The look he gave you said it all. "No!" That word was popular with him today.

"Why not?" You said, eyes lingering over to the closet again. "What's stopping me?"

His whole body tensed and his jaw shifted. It was a sudden standoff, just waiting for the other to make a move. At first, he tried to make up more excuses, but you taunted him like Chris Tucker in Rush Hour. With every stumble and fumble he made with his words, you played the shadow game with him.

When he was at his lowest, you bolted to the closet. He dropped your hoodie and ran right after you, just as the closet door swung open. Your hand was centimeters away from the hanger you needed, but Taika came crashing right into first, bumping you right out of the way with his hip. With plan b failed, you ran right to where he dropped your hoodie and managed to snag it in seconds just by the sleeve.

In your moment of glory, you were cocky enough to try and run out the door. Taika had been anticipating that move, ever since he got his One Piece sweater and saw you dive for your hoodie, he was waiting in front of the door. So, when you turned on your heel and made a mad dash, you ran right into Taika and his hand had grabbed onto the collar of the shirt.

Taika tried to yank it from your hands, and you gasped, holding on tight. He tried again and again and again, but you kept holding. Neither of you were noticed that the fabric was slowly starting to rip.

"Taika! It's not yours!" you yell, pulling back.

"I know, but I like it! It fits me!" he yelled back, and yanked it.

Childish taunts went back and forth, and both of you were both talking at the same time for a point in time. The room started to swirl, and eventually the strings keeping the hoodie together grew tired of the fabric and it just...

Snapped.

There was a piercing rip, and both you and Taika stumbled back. He left with the entire collar in his hands, soft string still dwindling from it and hanging from under his nails. You broke away with the rest of the hoodie. Once you realized what happened, it fell from your hands. You kind of just... looked at it. Your hand came up to cup over your mouth and your other arm cradled just beneath your chest.

Taika was talking to you, but you just tuned it out. When you finally looked back up at Taika, you had a look on your face that he only saw during actual, serious fights. He had royally pissed you off this time.

At least he had enough sense to move out of the way when you walked out of the room. He still had the collar in his hands, and he watched you go downstairs.

You needed to cool off for a little bit. You went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and sat down on the couch. You curled your legs up to your knees and turned the television on. You weren't really in the mood to watch anything, so you endlessly flipped through the stations, reading the descriptions and quietly wondering how some of these shows even made it at all.

You hadn't noticed it, but Taika had summoned up enough courage to come downstairs. He brought a peace offering with him. He slowly crept to the living room, staying out of your peripheral vision for the time being until he was behind you and the couch. He cautiously came to wrap his arms around you, making you pause from your channel flipping and he buried his nose into the crook of your neck. He let the thing he brought slide onto your knees. It was his One Piece sweater.

He murmured a soft, "I'm sorry," into your tender skin and kissed at it.

You couldn't stay mad at him, no matter how hard you tried. Your hand went up into his hair and you massaged his scalp the best you could with one hand. "It's fine... but there's one thing you can do to make it up to me." You pulled away from him and folded your arms. He sighed, giving you a soft frown, but he only knew it was right.

"I'll buy you a new one..."

[breakyeol]

— WHAT HE LOST

So you got dumped. It sucks, but hey, at least you’ve got your best friends who always seem know exactly what to do to help make you feel better.

┗ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: friends to lovers au, angst, fluff, smut

Words: 12.8k (I wish I was kidding)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, drinking, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content ; dom(?)baekhyun, switch sub!chanyeol, switch!reader, their roles ended up being very blurred, you’re the bologna in a chanbaek sandwich, threesome, very mild dirty talk, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), gentle throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, yeol just wants to be a good boy but baek just wants to break the headboard

A/N; the poll I did for this fanfic was so fun!!! I seriously love interacted with you guys and receiving your feedback! I definitely think it’s something I’d like to do again in the future! I hope you guys enjoy the results! PS, I low key suck at writing endings sorry loves. 

It’s half past two when you show up in front of their door, clothes soaked and heavy from the rain you hadn’t bothered to shield yourself from, heart bruised and aching from the ruthless beat down it had been forced to endure. It’s been a really long night.

Chanyeol is the one to finally open the door, face flushed and swollen, pink lips dry and pouted, dark hair unruly and disheveled with a ridiculous cowlick you would find incredibly amusing if not for the crushing weight of the night’s previous events still weighing heavily on your chest.

“Y/n?” He rasps, blinking hard twice, as if he hadn’t recognized you at first. You wouldn’t hold it against him, you probably look like a drowned rat in your current state.

A shaky grin pulls at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Yeol.”

His brows furrow and he swipes a large hand down the length of his face. “What time is it? What– what are you doing here?” There’s no malice in the question, only drowsy confusion as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together in his sleep hazed mind.

Instead of answering, you tip your chin forward and ask one of your own. “Mind if I come in? It feels like my fingers are about to fall off.”

All of a sudden his eyes pop open real wide and he gasps, as if just then realizing that you were standing outside his door in the freezing night air, drenched to the bone. He immediately ushers you inside, appearing genuinely distraught. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Did you walk here or something?”

Combing your wet hair out of your face, you offer a blunt nod of confirmation. “Yup.”

His jaw drops and he splutters in disbelief. “You walked here? In the pouring rain? Are you insane?! It’s the middle of the night! Something terrible could have happened to you! And you’re not even wearing a coat!” He gestures wildly at your waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, all drowsiness gone from his eyes.

“I’m fine, Chanyeol.” You sigh, moving past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

“Y/n, that really wasn’t smart. You should’ve called me.” He insists in that disapproving tone that reminds you of a parent scolding a petulant child.

You turn to him with raised brows, the vague outline of amusement tinging your words, “Would you have woken up?”

“You should’ve called until I did,” he shoots back without missing a beat, following close on your heel as you make your way into the living room and fall onto the couch with a soft grunt, “or you could’ve tried Baekhyun. Or literally done anything other than walk all the way here in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.”

He’s right, of course. It was dangerous walking alone at night, no matter how tough you think you are, bad things can happen to anyone. But the danger of walking the streets at night hadn’t been so much as a second thought when you left. There were far more prominent concerns plaguing your mind.

“Yeah, well.”

A beat of silence passes, and you feel the shift in Chanyeol’s gaze. You don’t dare to look over as he sinks into the space on the couch beside you, though all you really want is to lean into the comforting warmth of his body.

“Hey... are you alright?”

A painful lump forms in your throat at the question. “I—” you wince as your voice cracks, words falling dead on the tip of your tongue. Fuck. Why was it so hard to say?

“Y/n?”

The way he says your name nearly shatters the dam, and you just barely manage to pull yourself together enough to avoid turning into a sobbing mess on his couch. Snagging your lower lip roughly between your teeth, you offer a weak hum that pitches strangely in your throat– which most definitely does not go unnoticed by the boy who knows you too well for your own good.

Chanyeol’s concerned eyes sweep over your expression, those damn eyes that can see right through any mask you attempt to wear, before he speaks again in a voice so soft you could feel the steely grip around your heart ease. “Let me get you something dry to wear. Then we can make some hot cocoa and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

The idea of being dry and warm again was more than appealing enough for you to force the corners of your lips upward and manage a light nod of agreement. “Yeah.”

He shoots you a sweet smile, reaching over with a large hand to affectionately ruffle your wet hair and pushing himself off of the couch before you can retaliate. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, I don’t need you and all your drippiness flooding the apartment. I’m pretty sure you’ve already ruined our new couch.” He teases lightheartedly, that familiar bubbling laughter erupting from his lips as you swing your middle finger up at him.

You feel yourself deflate somewhat when he vanishes into his bedroom, leaving you alone once more. It was unusually quiet. Though understandable given the time, you aren’t used to the silence of the apartment and find yourself craving Chanyeol’s booming voice and Baekhyun’s obnoxious teasing. Without them, there’s nothing to distract your scrambled mind, and you can’t stop it from lingering on the frustration and sense of betrayal that torments your heart. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sink into the plush cushions, a soft groan escaping your tensed lips.

This. Sucks.

Luckily, you aren’t alone long enough to dwell on it too deeply.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door thudding shut, a murmur of gratitude on the tip of your tongue, but you are surprised to see a very much still half asleep Baekhyun come stumbling into the living room, donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt that hugs the gentle swells of his chest. His eyes are barely open as he all but throws himself onto the couch, immediately curling up into your side. You only chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his cinnamon scented hair and petting down his unruly bed head as it tickles your chin.

“You’re wet.” Is the first thing he murmurs into the silence, voice thick and hoarse in his throat. You can’t suppress the shiver that ripples down the length of your spine as his warm breath washes over your icy skin, the sharp contrast in temperature startling to your senses.

“I didn’t notice.” You hum, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

“And cold.” He grumbles additionally, arms coiling tightly around the curve of your waist and tugging you flush against him. The heat of his body is more than welcome, and you’re happy to allow him to cuddle into you. It’s easy to find comfort in his familiar embrace.

“Chanyeol is getting me something else to wear.”

His head tips back at that, and you have to draw away to keep your noses from colliding. Hooded eyes drag slowly over your face, warm and searching. You swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze and quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t seen the tell tale signs of your internal turmoil. But it seems both of your best friends are more observant than you give them credit for.

You jolt in surprise as he suddenly grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to face him again. The unexpected proximity has warmth rushing into your cheeks, and you clear your throat, eyes looking anywhere but his face. Nonetheless he still manages to read you like the pages of a children’s book.

“You’ve been crying.”

Instinctively, you try to put some distance between you and him, swatting his hand away and plastering an unconvincing scowl across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His lips part, and you brace yourself, knowing by the look on his face alone that he’s going to push the matter.

“Ah, Baekhyun, you’re awake.” You let out a breath of relief as Chanyeol steps out of his room, a set of black sweats and a towel draped over his arm. Perfect timing. Baekhyun nearly topples over as you jump up from the couch, quickly making your way over to where the younger boy stands. “Y/n, I got y—”

“Thanks, I’ll go change.” You rush out, cutting him off abruptly as you pull the clothes from his arms. You manage a quick smile of gratitude before you’re hurrying past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door more harshly than you intended behind you.

Very subtle, y/n.

“Fuck.” You hiss through clenched teeth, silently cursing yourself out.

Moving towards the sink, you stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with a weak grimace. You knew you looked like a mess but damn. You really look like you’ve been put through the wringer tonight. Which, of course, you kind of had been, but still.

It takes longer than you anticipated to wriggle yourself out of your wet clothes, nearly falling on your ass more times than you care to admit out loud in your numerous attempts to peel off your jeans. But in the end, it was more than worth it to feel the soft, warm fabric of Chanyeol’s oversized clothes against your skin. The faded scent of his aftershave eases the tension in your shoulders, but you can’t fight the buzz of nerves that come to life in your stomach as you step back out the door.

The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate is the first thing to greet you upon your return. Noting the emptiness of the living room, you come to the quick conclusion that they’re both most likely in the kitchen. On quiet feet, you shuffle over to the entrance, peeking your head around the wall. They’re facing away from you, leaning against the island and exchanging whispered words, voices just low enough that you can’t make out what they’re saying. Though, there’s little doubt in your mind that you’re the subject of their heated conversation.

Deciding to make your presence known, you clear your throat and step onto the cool tile. Two heads whip in your direction, startled. The looks on either of their faces makes you think of two children being caught doing something they definitely should not be. Exactly... what had they been talking about? 

Chanyeol is the first to move, plucking up the mug from the countertop and making his way over to you. “Extra marshmallows and extra whipped cream with a pinch of cinnamon,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush on his cheeks, “just how you like it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, grateful for the warmth of the smooth white ceramic against your palms. “Thanks, yeol.”

“Let’s sit!” Baekhyun exclaims before you can even take a sip, hands finding your shoulders and steering you back towards the couch. You’re too focused on not spilling the contents of your cup to make any sort of objection.

It’s only when squeezed between their two bodies on their slightly too small couch, their concerned but curious eyes burning into the sides of your face, that you begin to wonder if it was the wisest idea to come here. But then remember just how badly you were craving a good hug and sigh, knowing if anyone was gonna give you one, it’d be one of these two dopey boys.

It’s obvious neither of them are going to speak first, probably not wanting to push you incase you weren’t ready to talk about it yet (though, the intensity of their stares were doing just that), so you decide to take the initiative before the awkward tension can get even more unbearable.

“We broke up.”

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip of your gradually cooling hot chocolate as you allow them to absorb the new information.

“Well, shit.” Baekhyun coughs. Chanyeol reaches behind you to smack the back of his head, hissing something about being insensitive but you’re already more than aware of how they feel about your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend.

Since you first started talking to him, neither of the boys were his biggest fan. To their credit, they tried their best to be supportive, but it was hard to miss the dampening of the mood whenever you brought him up and the glares they’d shoot in his direction when they thought you weren’t paying attention. You called them out on their passive aggressive behavior on a number of occasions, and they were always quick to defend themselves with the claim of getting ‘bad vibes’.

Looking back, you probably should’ve given their suspicions some deeper consideration.

But you had just liked him so much. It was hard for you to see past the handsome, charming exterior to what really laid beneath. Gilded boys had always been your weakness, always enchanting you with the prettiest of lies only to shatter you with their ugly truths.

You should have known better.

“Are you alright?”

You shrug, sucking your lower lip into your mouth with a heavy exhale from your nose. “I’m fine, really. I’m just... embarrassed, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks at you in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed? He should be the embarrassed one for losing someone as amazing as you.”

“I’m embarrassed because—” you wince, bracing yourself for the response that you just know you’re about to receive, “because he dumped me.”

“What?!” Chanyeol erupts, nearly making you spill your hot cocoa from the sheer explosiveness of his reaction, “you let that literal piece of walking human trash—!”

“Chanyeol.”

At Baekhyun’s sharp interruption, the emotional younger immediately slumps, guilt painting his face as he looks at you with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You only smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“So,” Baekhyun begins cautiously, “what happened?”

No point beating around the bush now. “We were hanging out at his place. I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine in his bedroom. Confronted him. He called me a clingy bitch and told me to get the fuck out and never come back.” You say this as nonchalantly as you can manage, but your hold on the cup tightens substantially and an unmistakable thickness rises in your throat. You curse yourself silently for feeling like shit over a guy who obviously couldn’t be bothered to give even half a shit about you.

“He cheated on you?” Chanyeol leaps up from the couch, eyes wide and furious. If you were to look close enough, you were almost certain you’d see fire burning within them.

“That fucker.” Baekhyun all but snarls, hands balling into tight fists. “What’s his address?”

“Baekhyun—” you sigh, leaning forward to set your hot chocolate down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m dead serious, what’s his address?” He pins you with a look that tells you he is very much not messing around. They were being ridiculous, angry over things they couldn’t change. It was pointless and harmful to dwell on things that had already happened. You’d much rather pick yourself up and move on than allow yourself to keep hurting over a stupid boy.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. And your best friends are not the types to just let things go. Not when the people they care about are wronged.

Chanyeol seems to be off in his own little world, ranting furiously to himself while cracking his knuckles in a way that is probably meant to be intimidating (though, to you, the giant puppy is anything but). “There’s no way I’m letting a piece of shit like him get away with this. God, I knew he was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes in him. I should’ve—”

“Guys, please.” Your voice cracks when you finally intervene, and that’s all it takes for their immediate anger to fizzle out.

The tension in their shoulders melts, their features softening drastically as they spot the glistening of tears in your eyes despite your feeble attempts to blink them away. In an instant, they’re cuddling back up against you, murmuring soft apologies and pleading for you not to cry over someone like him. But the dam is already broken, and salty tears are swelling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Everything you’d been holding back comes bubbling violently towards the surface. Sobs wrack your chest, and you cling onto the hands of either boy as they watch you helplessly.

Chanyeol, the big softie that he is, has to bite his lip to keep the tears threatening to swell in his own eyes at bay. He’s never been good at holding himself together when he sees you hurting. He feels everything with his entire being, his empathy for his friends and the people he cares about on another level. But that big, stupid heart of his is one of the many reasons you adore him.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is not the most suave when it comes to comforting people. Most of the time he’ll try to crack jokes and make light of the situation, but he knew better than to break out his usual antics when you were in such a state. So he held his tongue, opting to wrap his hand around yours in hopes of comforting you in even the slightest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You groan once your sobs subside into sniffles and you feel the warm flush of embarrassment filtering into your cheeks at your own outburst. You really hated crying in front of people. So it wasn’t too often that your friends, or anybody for that matter, saw such a raw display from you. “It’s just so frustrating and humiliating, you know?”

There’s a moment of silence as you wipe the tears from your face with the hand not held in a death grip by Baekhyun. It’s the nice kind of silence though, the kind you don’t have to fill and don’t really want to, encasing the three of you in a little bubble of comfort. Of course, with these two, you can’t expect it to last long.

“If I ever see him again,” Chanyeol huffs, dropping his chin onto your shoulder, “it’s on sight.”

You laugh at that, the sound hoarse and nasally and just plain awful, but genuine nonetheless. Raising a hand, you comb it through his soft black locks in a show of gratitude.

“Baek?” You turn to him with a sniffle. He hums softly in acknowledgement, tracing comforting circles against the top of your hand. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“What? Is my hot cocoa not good enough for you?” He teases light-heartedly and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“It’s delicious. But I was thinking of something… a little stronger.”

A mischievous grin upturns the corners of his lips as he realizes what you’re suggesting. “I’ve got just what you need.”

“You know what, FUCK MEN. They’re all stupid. Who needs ‘em? Not me.”

“Yeah men are assholes!” Baekhyun agrees loudly, thrusting his empty shot glass in the air, before pausing and reconsidering his words. “Wait, I’m a man.”

“You and Yeol are the only exceptions.” You reassure, slapping your hand down on his shoulder. He grins widely at that, satisfied. “But every other man— they can all suck my dick,” you continue your tirade, swinging your hands around animatedly, “they’re all liars and cheats and idiots and I’ve had enough of they’re bullshit to last three lifetimes.”

Chanyeol giggles softly from where he’s situated on the floor between your legs which are draped lazily over either of his broad shoulders, his head resting on your thigh, obviously amused by your tipsy antics.

The first shot went down hard, more bitter than your resentment for your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. The second soothed the ache in your chest and allowed for the tension in your muscles to gradually ebb away. And the third? Well, you opted to take your time sipping on that one, not wanting to completely lose yourself in the intoxicating buzz.

You were never the biggest drinker, but sometimes a few shots of something a little stronger than beer helps take the edge off. Right now seems as good a time as any for some liquid courage.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

However, one of the biggest reasons you erred on the side of caution around alcohol was because you had a tendency to spill things that didn’t necessarily need to be exposed. Especially not to your tipsy best friends at three in the morning when emotions ran high and couldn’t be easily stifled.

“What?” Baekhyun leans closer, eyes wide and burning with curiosity at the sudden somberness of your voice. Chanyeol tilts his head back at the shift in tone, looking up at you through dark lashes.

“In the three years we were together,” the two boys strain their ears as your voice drops into a careful whisper, as if someone other than them was around to hear the secret you hadn’t dared to share with a single soul up until this point, “he only ate me out once.”

For a moment, you think the disbelief that flashes across their faces is because you’ve brought up something of a sexual nature. But that thought is quickly squashed.

“Once? In three years? Is he insane?!”

“Shows what kind of man he really is.” Baekhyun scoffs, clicking his tongue. “Did you go down on him?”

You nod in reluctant confirmation, still sober enough to feel the slightest pinch of shame at your admission.

“That’s not how it works! Sex is about give and take, balance,” Chanyeol enunciates the word carefully, and you can’t help the upward twitch of your lips at the seriousness of his expression and the passion behind his words, “You can’t just receive without giving anything back!”

“He said he didn’t like it. And he only did it that one time because we fought on my birthday two years ago and he felt bad.” You explain, pouting heavily as you recall all the times he refused to go down on you.

Baekhyun blanches, jaw dropping. “You haven’t been eaten out in two years? Oh, baby...” you can feel the empathy rolling off of them in thick waves as they allow the new information to really sink in.

“I know, I know! Please don’t make me think about it anymore.” You whine distraughtly, rubbing your hands roughly down your face as frustration and annoyance bubble up inside of you. “I’m already pent up enough as is. That selfish bastard— he couldn’t even make up for it with his stupid dick either. He was all talk when it came to things like that. He only ever cared about getting himself off. It didn’t matter if I felt good as long as he could get his dick wet. What bullshit! Do you even know how many orgasms I had to fake?!”

Everything you’d kept inside comes exploding out of you in a rush of fiery passion, refusing to remain bottled up for even a moment longer. But of course, the moment it’s out and unable to be taken back, you regret saying anything about it at all. Red hot embarrassment floods your senses and you sink in on yourself, slapping a hand over your offending lips.

Damnit. You really shouldn’t have taken that third shot.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That was�� I shouldn’t have—” you attempt to backtrack, mouth twisted into a grimace.

There’s an exchange of glances that you don’t see, too wrapped up in your own humiliation to notice.

Then, a gentle hand slides over your thigh and you jolt in surprise, head snapping up to find a very serious Baekhyun looking back at you. You’d never seen this kind of expression on his face before. It was different then his usual playful grin or teasing smirk. Darker, somehow... dangerous. Like he was looking right through you and seeing everything you’d kept so carefully bottled up inside. It incites within you a vulnerability you had long forgotten.

“When was the last time you came?”

The question catches you off guard, to say the very least.

“Shit, i-it’s not like I keep track.” You laugh weakly, trying not to focus on the warmth seeping into your lower belly or the proximity of their bodies. But then his fingers are feathering over the curve of your knee and your heart is picking up speed and you’re left wondering at which point this conversation took such a turn.

Between your legs, Chanyeol shifts and your gaze snap down just in time to see him turn to face you fully, something dark and unfamiliar stirring within those big brown eyes. On instinct, you try to close your legs, but the sheer largeness of his body nestled comfortably between them prevents you from doing anything of the sort.

There’s no ignoring the rush of heat that ignites in your core, the closeness too much for your body to process all at once, only fueled by the long neglected desire for some kind of release.

And the fact that all he needed to do was get just a little bit closer—

But those are most definitely not the types of thoughts you should be having about your best friends. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how good Baekhyun’s pretty hand feels, slowly edging it’s way higher and higher up your thigh. No matter how cute the look on Chanyeol’s face is, a searing blush turning his full cheeks a fiery shade of red that easily consumes the entirety of his handsome face.

Fuck. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Y/n…”

Oh god. Why did your name have to sound like that coming from his lips?

Baekhyun’s fingers find your chin, gently coaxing your attention away from the man kneeling before you and back onto him. Your breathing has become shallow and fast, the insufficient amount of oxygen making you feel somewhat lightheaded. But the sensation is not a wholly unwelcome one. Not when his own smooth, liquor stained breath is like ambrosia on your tongue— heavy and rich and dangerously tempting.

“That piece of shit couldn’t make you feel good, could he?”

“No.” You swallow around the word, willing your treacherous eyes away from the entrancing curve of his pink mouth.

“No…” he repeats softly, tracing his thumb lightly over the flesh of your lower lip, “but I can— we can.” He lowers his gaze, tempting yours to follow as he ticks a brow at the younger boy. “… can’t we, Chanyeol?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathes without a moment’s hesitation, nuzzling his nose against the inside of your knee, warm fingertips teasing the cool skin of your ankles before he’s quickly amending, “if it’s what you want.”

Baekhyun’s lips feather over the shell of your burning ear and you feel consumed.

“Do you want it?”

“This is crazy.” It’s a deliberate avoidance of the question and you both know it.

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip curling into a teasing little grin that makes you feel like he can read your mind. “Is it?”

Yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue. But you would be a dirty, filthy liar if you said it had never crossed your mind.

The thought of you and them.

Usually one... sometimes both.

But those had just been fleeting fantasies when nothing else could satiate the unrelenting heat in your belly, shameful fantasies that, for the most part, you kept locked up tight in the furthest corner of your mind and only let out at the darkest hour of the night, when the midnight winds carried away the trembling breaths of their names, a whispered secret shared only between you and the moon. Only then would you dare to bask in their phantom caresses, allow your mind to conjure up images of their faces, twisted in beautiful bliss.

It was a dangerous game you played, but god, it felt too good to be wrong.

Or maybe that was just you trying to rationalize getting off to the thought of your best friends.

After a few moments of you grappling for the right words, Baekhyun tentatively intervenes with the thick, tension-filled silence that had encased the space around you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. No pressure from us, sweetheart. I understand two at once can be a bit... intimidating.”

Though he started out in a tone that suggested reassurance and understanding, that last phrase, donning an underlying pitch of provocation, gives you pause.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think I could handle the two of you?” There’s a low scoff to your words, a spark of competitiveness that only Byun Baekhyun himself could draw out of you igniting in your stomach.

He smiles at you innocently, walking two fingers up the length of your thigh. “Not at all.” Something about the glint in his eye tells you that that is exactly what he was suggesting.

A light pout touches your lips and you lower your gaze to the man on the floor. “Chanyeol?”

You don’t need to elaborate for him to understand what you’re asking, that familiar boyish grin curling across his face as he props his chin on top of your knee.

“I think you could handle me just fine.”

A shiver ricochets down your spine at the divine way the words drip from his lips, thick and honey like, sensual in their suggestive nature. You hold his burning stare for a few moments longer than you probably should have, feeling yourself slowly being devoured by the dark, ravenous hunger that swirls within it. This was a fire you were not accustomed to seeing ablaze in Chanyeol. You were used to the fire of his competitiveness, the searing flame of his imperishable passion.

But this— this was something new all together.

If you were to touch him, you wonder if you would be able to feel the savage heat of it against your fingertips.

At your sides, your hands itch to find out. But a gentle tug at the string of your- er, Chanyeol’s sweatpants pulls your mind away from that specific thought. You can’t help the shaky gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of Baekhyun’s hands hovering dangerously close to your heat. You can only watch, melting into a puddle of pure need as he twirls the string nonchalantly around his beautiful fingers, slipping his two middle digits into one of the loops and proceeding to curl them in a way that made your mind jump to highly inappropriate possibilities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His teeth graze the shell of your ear and the wetness forming between your thighs increases tenfold as the smooth tenor of his voice thrums through your skull.

“I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

You’re not sure who leaned in first. But the next thing you know, your lips are on his. There’s no time to dwell on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend, your mind rapidly growing hazy from the unexpected intensity. There’s a certain viciousness in his ministrations, a brutality to his lust that he breathes into your lungs and sends blazing through your veins. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

You can’t help the surprised moan that escapes you when he takes your tongue between his lips and sucks, a low content hum reverberating through his chest before he releases you with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Fuck,” he groans languidly, “You taste like chocolate, baby.”

Calloused hands are curling around your jaw before you can fully recuperate, drawing your attention away from Baekhyun just in time to see Chanyeol’s rapidly approaching face. His dark eyes are hooded and wanting, the faintest of pouts residing on his red-bitten mouth as he breathes in an almost whining tone, “I wanna taste.”

You can think of no reason to object.

His lips slip over yours with a gentleness that is almost staggering. Despite his impatience, there’s an underlying hesitance to his motions, an uncertainty that gives you the feeling that… he’s waiting for you to take the lead. And you do such with fervor.

Raising a hand, you slip gentle fingers up the length of his throat and give an experimental squeeze, not hard enough to do anything other than apply a bit of pressure, but just enough to get your message across.

I’m in charge.

The delighted moan he produces in response makes your lips curl devilishly.

But you’re not given the opportunity to relish in the hot rush of power long, a second pair of lips attaching to your throat making you waver. A hot tongue laves over your collarbone, followed by the sharp pressure of teeth and your jaw goes slack.

Did Baekhyun just bite you?

And… why didn’t you hate it?

Chanyeol takes your open mouth as an invitation, smoothly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Fuck. He tastes like cinnamon and liquor, a combination you had no idea could be so addictive.

Mind dazed and sufficiently distracted, you don’t notice the hand slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats until a shock of pleasure bolts up your spine. You gasp, breaking the kiss as your eyes drop in order to see which of the two boys is the culprit. Baekhyun lets out a low groan, feathering gentle touches over the soaking fabric of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He growls dangerously in your ear. “We’ve barely even started. Are you already that excited?”

You shudder involuntarily, only managing a hoarse moan when he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He chuckles tauntingly, as if you’ve just proved his point, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed with the way his skilled fingers are stroking your clothed heat.

The heaviness of Chanyeol’s gaze boring into you, devouring every detail of your blissed expression, only serves in making the sensations all the more intense. You attempt to grind yourself down into Baekhyun’s touch, seeking more friction, only to whimper in dismay as he withdraws completely, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and aching for more.

“Baekhyun—”

“Take them off.” The abruptness of the command has your breath catching in your throat and a telling warmth fluttering through your core. You weren’t accustomed to hearing Baekhyun’s voice like this, so different from his usually light hearted teasing and playful jibes that it throws you for a moment. He cocks a brow amid your stunned silence, licking over the seam of his lip. “What? You need help?”

Snapping yourself out of it, you swing your gaze over to Chanyeol, offering him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Can’t say I’d mind it.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand.” He hums, shooting you a playful wink that has a wide smile breaking across your face. He makes quick work of your borrowed sweats, easily tugging the loose fabric down the length of your legs and casting it aside carelessly. You watch the way his eyes flit greedily over the expense of your bare thighs, relishing the low, strained groan that flutters from his gaping lips when his attention fixes on the thin, black, lacy material that separates him from your soaking pussy.

“Those, too,” you instruct softly, sinking your teeth into the inside of your cheek. He swallows, and goes to reach for them, only to draw back abruptly when you swat his hands away with a sound of disapproval, “uh-uh. Do it with your teeth.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, a severe blush rushing into his cheeks.

Beside you, Baekhyun grins wildly. “That’s my girl.”

You smirk to yourself at the praise, but don’t remove your eyes from Chanyeol’s for a single moment, absolutely loving the pretty shade of red his handsome face has taken on.

Slowly, he dips his head, not daring to break your gaze as he latches his teeth onto the thin black lace on your underwear and begins to drag them down the length of your legs. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, soothed by the press of his hot palms as they trail his descent down your thighs, over the curves of your knees, down your calves, until you are left bare and exposed before them.

Fuck. That was so hot.

“Cute, isn’t he?” Baekhyun hums playfully against your jaw, like the whisper of the devil in your ear. You let out a trembling breath as the younger boy presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, nodding with an airy sigh of ‘ so cute’. Baekhyun nips at the juncture of your throat, and you can only watch with bated breath as he reaches a hand between your thigh, dragging his long middle finger through your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Want your sweet Chanyeollie to eat your pretty cunt, baby? Hm? Want him to make you feel good?”

Your chest rises rapidly, fast, shallow breaths swirling into your lungs. His filthy words curl beneath your nose, thrumming in your ears, intoxicating and disorienting in their deadly temptation. Desperation tugs at every nerve in your body and your hips buck and roll, chasing his caress. Want pools, dark and heavy, in Chanyeol’s hooded eyes as he watches his friend’s teasing ministrations. He licks his lips, full and pink and glistening in the low light of their apartment and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Fuck yes.” The words are nothing less than a growl in the back of your throat, a sound you never thought yourself capable of producing.

Baekhyun suddenly reaches forward, weaving his fingers through Chanyeol’s thick hair and tugging him forward. The younger gives no resistance, bracing his hands on your lower thighs as he allows himself to be guided to you. His lips part, tongue peeking out, and your anticipation skyrockets. But then he stops just short, and all you’re left with is the faint caress of his warm breath to soothe the insatiable ache between your hips. You almost whimper.

Chanyeol’s nostrils flare, eyes sharpening in annoyance as he shoots a glare up in Baekhyun’s direction. He only grins and arches a brow. “What? You’re not gonna ask for it first? Where are your manners, Yeol?” He gasps mockingly, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You don’t expect Chanyeol to give in at first, not with how competitive he could be and especially not with Baekhyun acting so damn condescending. But then he does, and you forget how to breathe.

“Please, y/n,” he pants hotly against your skin, “I wanna taste you so bad. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Please. Fuck, please.” A low, needy groan trembles in the back of his throat, clinging to that last ravenous plea. He snags his lower lip between his teeth and you feel yourself throb. The man looks down right sinful, Baekhyun still clutching onto his inky locks, forcing a slight strain in his neck as he looks up at you with those damn eyes that make your stomach churn and your mind spin.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, you nudge Baekhyun’s hand out of the way and replace it with your own, immediately loving the feeling of Chanyeol’s soft hair sliding between your fingers. His eyes flutter under the gentleness of your grip, lips parting as he breathes a delicate sigh, gazing up at you expectantly.

“Come here, Yeolie.”

He’s more than happy to comply.

The first stroke of his tongue sends sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body, a silent gasp shaping your lips. He looks up at you through dark lashes, encouraged and invigorated by your responsiveness to him, licking eagerly at your cunt. Soft moans flutter through his chest, and you shiver at the faint vibrations that are sent pulsing through you.

“Fuck, Chan,” you hiss, rocking your hips forward when he laves over your clit. The friction makes your skin tremble, a dangerous heat rising beneath it. If you knew he was this good with his mouth, you would have jumped his bones a whole lot sooner.

Another moan builds in your chest, but it’s abruptly stifled when Baekhyun tangles a hand into your hair and pulls you into a kiss that doesn’t fail to knock the air out of your lungs. Having both of their mouths on you makes your head spin and you can’t decide which to focus on. You’ve never been with more than one person at the time and it’s slightly overwhelming to suddenly have two men— two gorgeous men at that, both eager and willing to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.

Warm fingers suddenly slip beneath the thick fabric of your sweatshirt, and you shiver as they glide over your skin, light and teasing in advance towards your chest. A tremor wracks your spine when he pinches a nipple, squeezing his digits around the shape of your breast. Your back arches unconsciously, and you feel him smirk. Distracted, you don’t feel the burn of Chanyeol’s impatient glare until his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Yelping in shock, you snap your gaze back down to the younger boy, disbelief coloring your features. He has the audacity to smirk at you, cocking a brow in a manner that has a mixture of annoyance and arousal flaring up in your gut. Any glimmer of smug accomplishment is quickly washed from his face when your hand shoots down and roughly grips the hair on the back of his head, yanking him upwards until your nose to nose.

“Watch your teeth, Yeolie.” You murmur darkly.

“Or what?” The corner of your mouth twitches at his gutsy response.

“Or I’ll make sure to edge you until you cry.”

His eyes widen at the threat and he swallows thickly. From your peripheral, you see the crotch of his grey sweatpants rise.

“Oh? But it looks like you’d like that.” A deep crimson flush rushes into his ears and tinges the tips of his ears and he lowers his eyes, unable to hold your mirthful gaze any longer. “I guess I’ll just have to think of a better punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out airy and desperate, the natural rasp making the knot in your stomach tighten, “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.” You search his blown pupils for any sign of dishonesty, but find only sincerity and intoxicating lust. Satisfied, you release your tight grip on his hair in favor of gently stroking your knuckles over his blushing cheek.

“Then be a good boy and show me what this pretty mouth,” you trace your thumb gently over the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip, “can really do.”

The moment he’s released from your entrancing gaze, his mouth is on you again, eating you out with a fervor you’ve never before experienced. Your hips buck against him, your head tipping back as you let out rasping groans.

“Fuck, Yeol. That’s it, baby. Good boy.” He moans against you as spill praise after praise, lapping hungrily at your soaking pussy.

“That was so fucking sexy.” Baekhyun growls roughly, kissing you hard once before he’s pulling away to speak again. “Watching you boss him around, take control like that…” his voice drawls into a low groan, “really does something to me.”

“Yeah?” You ask shakily, mind whirling as Chanyeol buries his tongue inside of you. Baekhyun grins, humming lightly in confirmation. “Maybe you should let me boss you around, too.”

“Not a chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe next time. But tonight…” your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so gently, “your mine, sweetheart.”

Next time. He said next time.

There’s going to be a next time.

The amount of joy you receive from those two simple words borders on irrational.

“I— oh fuck!” You can only cry out in bliss as Chanyeol wraps his lips around your clit, sucking roughly. Your hips jerk and grind, moving on their own accord as he draws you closer and closer to your high. God, you’re so close you can taste it. Your trembling hands find purchase in his hair once more, desperate to hold onto something as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“You gonna cum all over Yeolie’s tongue, baby? You gonna cum for us?” Baekhyun coos encouragingly against your jaw, and you can only whimper and nod frantically, unable to speak when Chanyeol sinks a long finger into your wet cunt, fucking you skillfully with his digit while he focuses his mouth on abusing your throbbing clit until your reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess on their living room couch.

“Yes— oh god, yes.”

When the coil snaps, it snaps hard. You can only manage a strangled whimper when it crashes over you. How long had it been since you last come on something other than your own hand? Weeks? Months? You can’t recall. But honestly how much does it really matter when your best friend’s face is nestled snug between your thighs?

The muscles of your legs seize and tremble beneath the force of your release, only held open by Chanyeol’s strong hands. He is unrelenting even as you come undone around him, tongue rolling over your clit, finger curling against your walls as his heady, hooded eyes devour you. You only manage to get him to detach him from you when you give a weak tug at his hair, the post-orgasm sensitivity proving too much for your body to handle.

“F– fuck.” You shiver, panting as tendrils of residual pleasure lick at your senses, the cold phantom of his tongue making you clench around nothing but empty air is pathetic greed. “Fuck, come here.”

Chanyeol is quick to rise onto his knees, obedient as ever, letting out a soft gasp of surprise as you cup his face and draw him into a heated kiss. He melts into you, large hands finding purchase on your thighs (which are still shaking) and caressing them soothingly.

“Thank you,” you breathe against his mouth, “thank you. Thank you.”

You feel him smiling as you continue to express your gratitude in gentle words spoken between deep, passionate kisses and it’s not long before his smile turns into something wide and toothy and uncontainable and he’s bursting into a fit of giggles as you resort to peppering the rest of his face in playful kisses.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Save the aftercare for when we’re  done, yeah?” Baekhyun’s lilting hum draws your attention, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“We’re not done?”

His brows jump, that familiar lopsided smirk offsetting his pretty lips. “Are you kidding me? We’ve got two years worth of orgasms to make up for. We’re nowhere near finished.” A shiver of excitement ricochets down your spine at the promise laced into his words, and you have to bite your lip to keep a wide grin at bay.

Suddenly, Baekhyun rises from the couch and it’s with immense effort that you refrain from staring directly at the prominent bulge straining against the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him as he extends a hand. “Come on. The bedroom is  much more comfortable to get your brains fucked out in. Speaking from experience.” You scoff at the sleazy smirk he shoots you, but slide your hand into his nonetheless.

The moment you’re on your feet, your knees buckle and you nearly topple. Luckily for you, Chanyeol has remarkable reflexes (when it counts) and catches you by the waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Shit, Yeol. You really did a number on her.” Baekhyun remarks teasingly. A feverish blush rises up your neck and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up.”

He bites the corner of his lip, gives you a heated once over that leaves your skin burning and trembling, before spinning on his heels sauntering in the direction of his bedroom door. He stops in the frame for a brief moment and shoots you a sultry wink from over his shoulder. “Come make me.”

Fuck.

Chanyeol let’s out a yelp of surprise as you lace your fingers through his and tug him hurriedly in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom. The very second that you’re through the door, lips connect with yours, stealing the very air from your lungs and obliterating any last remaining bit of your sanity. Hands seize your half naked body, eagerly exploring the expanse of your feverish skin. They tug at the hindering fabric of your sweatshirt, until all at once it is being pulled over your head and cast off carelessly somewhere in the darkness. You don’t even shiver, the heat of their bodies surrounding you and warding off the cool air.

Chanyeol takes the opportunity to slide a hand beneath your chin and tilt your head back so that it rests on his shoulder, the tip of his tongue flicking over your lips until they part, welcoming him in. Reaching back, you grab hold of his hips, tugging them forward and guiding them in a slow grinding motion against your ass. He moans hotly at the frictions, kiss turning sloppy as pleasure rushes through him.

You’re distinctly aware of the pressure of Baekhyun’s own mouth beginning a slow descent, starting from your jaw, gliding down the length of your throat, pausing to lick and suck at your sensitive nipples, kissing with a staggering tenderness over your belly. Then you hear his knees hit the floor. All at once, his tongue flattens against your clit, and you have to break away from Chanyeol as your body jolts violently in response. There’s still lingering sensitivity from your first orgasm, amplifying the pleasure tenfold.

And god, it’s so good.

“F– fuck, Baek—” your voice breaks off into a trembling whimper, hips bucking as he sinks a finger into your heat. Followed shortly thereafter by a second. Then a third. The stretch has you keening, leaning the full weight of your body against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest. He’s the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. Had you been left to your own devices, you would have already collapsed.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for us, baby.” Baekhyun hums with a lightness entirely unfitting for the current situation, nipping at the inside of your thigh. He supplies you with a slow, calculated thrust, biting his lip harshly as he watches your glistening arousal coat his digits. “Fucking hell, your soaking.”

You whimper shakily, head tipping back as Chanyeol nips and sucks at the juncture of your throat, his large hands gliding over the shape of your body as if he intends to commit it to memory— caressing every curve, fondling every edge, touching you, worshipping you with a reverence that pours into your very soul. You’ve never been touched like this before. Most men just think they have a right to you the second your clothes are off (some even before that). There’s no respect, no appreciation, nothing but dirty lust.

But this— this is different. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put into words. The way he’s touching you, like you’re a precious work of art, it makes you feel good. It makes you feel… beautiful. Something you rarely, if ever, felt when you were with your ex.

Baekhyun swirls his tongue around your clit and simultaneously curls his fingers, successfully stroking that long neglected bundle of nerves inside of you. The sensations it sets off inside of you are intense and overwhelming, and within seconds you’re coming for a second time. This orgasm comes completely unexpectedly and without any real warning outside of the breakneck explosion of pleasure that has stars scattering across your vision.

“Baek—!” you can only manage a broken yelp of his name as your body convulses above him, wracked and disoriented by the sudden, explosive burst of ecstasy. Now your shivering, trembling and gasping violently, but not from the cold. He watches in wonder as you unravel, clenching so tightly around his fingers that he can only begin to imagine what you’ll feel like coming around his cock. Shit, he can’t wait to be inside of you. He’s throbbing at the mere thought of it.

Chanyeol’s no better off, barely holding himself back from rutting against you like some kind of animal. But he wants to impress you, show you he has some semblance of self control even when it feels like he might burst in his pants at any given moment. He wants to be good for you. So for now, he can only watch with bated breath, painfully hard in his sweats, as your face contorts into an expression of pure bliss. God, you look so beautiful like this he almost can’t stand it. How could anyone let someone like you go?

“Holy f-fuck.” You whimper, attempting to catch your breath as your high begins to fade. Baekhyun has plastered a cocky grin across his face by the time you look down at him, though his eyes still sparkle with something indecipherable.

“That was a good one.” He says, carefully retracting his fingers from your heat as Chanyeol hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose behind your ear comfortingly when you shudder and whine at the emptiness. “We’re gonna break her at this rate.” 

“Not a chance,” you interject firmly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “I’m a lot tougher than you think.” It’s the truth, but the quiver in your voice begs to differ. 

“So you can handle another one?” Baekhyun asks, rising to his full height. 

You hold his fiery gaze. “I can handle anything you give me.” 

Something in his eyes darkens. “Careful, sweetheart. You have… no idea the kind of filthy, depraved things I want to do to you.” His voice drops an octave, and, despite having already come twice (twice as many times as you were used to), your greedy cunt still throbs with need. 

Boldly, you extend a hand, caressing over his clothed length, and feel a surge of pride when he inhales sharply, hard gaze faltering. 

Leaning forward, you feather your lips over his, teasing. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you’re enjoying it far too much to stop now.

“Show me.”

Those two little words are all it takes to break Byun Baekhyun. 

“Bed. Now.” 

Perhaps you’re just a little too eager to comply, barely biting back a grin of excitement as you turn tail and scramble to his king sized bed. 

The disheveled sheets welcome you into their embrace, still warm in the spot Baekhyun had occupied prior your unannounced visit. They smell of him, you notice, the coconut of his shampoo, the milk & honey of his body wash, the soft vanilla of his perfume. You recognize the latter as the bottle he “borrowed” from you a few months back and had yet to return. Not that you really mind. You secretly like the fact that he smells like you. 

Chanyeol is first to round the side of the bed, ridding himself of his clothes along the way. Shirt first, then pants, and you can’t help but giggle as he hops clumsily out of his boxers, nearly bumping into the nightstand before he falls gracelessly onto the mattress beside you, offering up a sheepish grin. 

“Sexy, aren’t I?” Sarcasm bleeds through his tone, embarrassment hot on his cheeks, though it’s quickly soothed as you draw him into a gentle kiss. 

“Excruciatingly.” You enunciate teasingly, nipping at the tip of his nose. 

The bed dips around your ankles, and you peer down to see a very primal looking Baekhyun crawling towards you, like a predator honing in on his prey. The carnal hunger pooling in his hooded eyes hits you straight in the chest, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. 

Slotting himself between your hips, you could easily make out every inch of his length resting against your stomach, hot and hard and throbbing. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone inside of you this badly. His head lowers to your throat and he sets your skin ablaze with open mouthed kisses. Chanyeol makes sure the opposite side of your neck isn’t neglected long, feeling the erratic pulsing of your carotid artery beneath the slow strokes of his tongue. Your head falls back into the pillows, a sigh fluttering from your lips as you’re bathed in their affections. 

Baekhyun slips a hand beneath your knee, hooking it over his hip. Your lungs tremble with excitement when he slides his tip slowly through your wet folds. 

“I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.” 

“I already have,” you smirk lazily in response, snagging the corner of your lip between your teeth, “Twice.” 

He doesn’t seem discouraged, curving a hand around the shape of your jaw and feathering his mouth over yours as his eyes glint with something sinful and electrifying. “Then I’m gonna show you the goddamn galaxy.” 

There’s no time to respond before his hips are rolling forward, filling you to the hilt with one smooth stroke. A breathless gasp trembles from his throat, “fuck.” 

“Does she feel good?” The question that escapes Chanyeol is weak and needy, strained and rough, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He almost sounds like he’s struggling, battling with himself internally as he watches his best friend’s cock disappear inside of our cunt with a lewd squelch. The searing heat of his gaze makes you whine in pathetic desperation, no longer unable to form coherent words to express your desire. 

“Fucking Christ, Yeol. She’s so tight a-and wet— ah, fucking perfect.” Baekhyun’s shoulders arch, a tremor rippling down his spine as your walls constrict around him, squeezing so tightly he almost loses himself then and there. But he manages to hold back, bracing a hand on your hip as he pushes himself up right. 

“Baek, please.” 

There’s no need for elaboration. He knows exactly what you’re asking for. And hell, he’s more than happy to provide. 

The first thrust of his hips has your back arching off of the mattress, mouth opening in silent bliss. The pace he sets is punishing, fast and deep and rough. His blunt nails dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, but you relish in it, pain and pleasure coming together to create the perfect cocktail. The lingering sensitivity from your two previous orgasms only serves to heighten the ecstasy that you're experiencing. And with Chanyeol pressed against your side, large, calloused hands and gentle lips making sure each and every inch of you is receiving attention, it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that coil in your stomach tightening. 

“I’m not gonna last.” You moan weakly, clinging to Chanyeol like he’s your one and only lifeline. 

“Fuck, come on, beautiful. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” Baekhyun growls, snapping his hips roughly into yours. You cry out desperately when Chanyeol trails a hand down your body, circling a careful finger around your clit. 

“Oh god, please. Please, Yeol. Harder. Baek— fuck, please.” You’re on the verge of tears, muscles shuddering violently as the white hot pleasure pulses through your veins. 

“Who are you begging, sweetheart?” Baekhyun grins down at you devilishly, licking at his teeth as his eyes glow with something dangerous and powerful. Your stomach whirls, and you nearly headbutt Chanyeol when your body lurches, entirely overwhelmed. It’s so much— too much— but, somehow, not enough. 

Your legs squeeze around Baekhyun’s hips, heels pressing into the swells of his ass, urging him deeper as you implore him wordlessly for more. You want everything, however selfish that may sound. You want it all. Every last piece of him. 

This time around, you’re more than grateful that he can read you so well. 

Simultaneously, the two boys fiercen their ministrations: Baekhyun, fucking himself into you so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall; Chanyeol, applying enough pressure to your sensitive clit that your sanity nearly flies out the window. Within seconds, entangled in the staggering heat of their bodies, you come undone. 

Damn. Baekhyun wasn’t kidding about showing you the galaxy. 

Never in your life have you experienced an orgasm like this. One that tears through your very being like a raging tsunami. You feel it rippling through every cell, igniting every nerve ending in fiery ecstasy. 

Baekhyun is barely able to hold himself together as you unravel beneath him, his entire body trembling and sweating with the effort of fighting back his own high, which is threatening to break over him at any given second. The mere sight of you is almost enough to do him in, but he wants to make sure to ride you through yours before he allows himself even a taste of his own. Harder said than done when you look so good and feel ever better, clenching and pulsing around him and god he’s about to lose his fucking mind. 

He’s panting and groaning, rolling his hips deeply into yours, keeping himself teetering dangerously on that edge. But it’s you, your voice whimpering his name, your fluttering, teary eyes barely able to keep themselves open looking up at him, that finally breaks him. He bucks into you sharply, hips spluttering, body shaking as he spills himself. It’s sudden and it’s messy and it’s the most goddamn beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

The moment he’s finished, he collapses on top of you, completely out of breath and red in the face; thoroughly fucked out. But that doesn’t stop him from bathing you in whispered praises. 

“You’re so amazing. You did so well. You’re so beautiful.” 

His words warm your heart, which is just barely beginning to return to a more natural rhythm. They lick the wounds from the nights previous events, soothe the ache that was long forgotten in the thralls of your best friends’ soothing touch. 

Baekhyun pulls out of you carefully, and you have to physically stop yourself from pouting at the emptiness and loss of the weight and warmth of his body as he rolls off of you, flopping onto the mattress at your side with a huff of hazy laughter. 

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, a dopey smile plastered across his face as he tosses an arm over his eyes, “that was amazing.”

“So fucking amazing.” You emphasize, trying uselessly to catch your breath.

It’s only when you feel something nudging at your opposite hip that you're able to refocus your bleary mind on the unfinished task. You turn, finding the adorable scrunched face of Chanyeol, cheeks red, eyes wanting. 

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, swallowing a groan. He’s trying his best not to come off as too desperate, but you see right through him. You see how hard he is, veins thick and throbbing beneath the angry red skin, his flushed tip weeping with precum. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t touched himself yet. It looks like it hurts. 

Licking your lips, you can’t help but to wonder what he might taste like, how he’d feel against your tongue, the kinds of sounds he’d make when his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You bet he’s loud when he comes. Fuck, that deep, raspy voice would sound so good moaning your name. 

… perhaps you are feeling just a little greedy. 

“Yeol,” he snaps to attention at the wispy call of his name, inhaling sharply when your fingers graze his thigh, “come here.” 

He blinks in confusion, not understanding what you want him to do. Recognizing the lost puppy dog look, you chuckle before elaborating in far more blunt terms to avoid further misunderstanding; 

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” 

If he were to open his eyes any wider, you were certain they’d fall straight out of his head. “I– I can’t– you just—” he stutters clumsily, shaking his head, but you can feel his body practically trembling in excitement at the implication of your words.

“Please. You’ve been so good for me. I wanna make you feel good, too, baby.” You coo, tugging at his knee once more before leaning up to graze your lips over the shell of his flushed ear. “Let me make you feel good, Yeolie.” 

He shivers violently, a strangled moan breaking from his swollen mouth, and you smirk to yourself, knowing you’ve got him. He seems nervous as he pushes himself up and crawls to kneel next to your head before hesitating, blinking as he tries to figure the right way to position himself. 

He’s cute when he’s concentrating. 

“Like this—” you chime in. Chanyeol gasps and flushes a deep red when you guide him forward until his knees are on either side of your head, his hard length swinging proudly above your nose. 

Reaching up, you take his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers. “If I tap on the back of your hand—” you demonstrate, “it means stop, okay? You have to stop immediately when I do that because I won’t be able to speak.” 

He nods, expression serious, “I understand. I’ll stop if you tap on my hand.” 

“Good,” you pause, a gentle smile upturning the corners of your mouth, “I trust you.” 

His breath hitches. “Thank you.” 

Instead of responding, you tip your chin up and trace your tongue over the underside of his cock. His hips stutter forward, a surprised moan escaping him at the unexpected contact. 

“Stop teasing and feed her your cock, Chanyeol. Can’t you see how bad she wants it?” Baekhyun chuckles mockingly, sliding a lithe hand around your jaw and squeezing, forcing your mouth open even wider. Chanyeol looks down at you through blown pupils, chest heaving, lust practically radiating from his every pore. But it’s only when you offer a nod of reassurance and a look that you hope gives of even the faintest of glimpses into your immense desire for this, for him, does he finally move. 

With a tenderness only Park Chanyeol could possess in a position such as this, he guides himself between your awaiting lips. You moan unabashedly as the bittersweet taste of him hits your tongue, tipping your chin up to make more of him in. A shuddering moan pulses from his chest, pitched and broken on red bitten lips. The sound is somehow even more beautiful than you imagined. 

Languidly, you swirl your tongue around his weeping tip, eliciting a strained whisper of your name as the grip he has on your hands tightens substantially. He offers a slow, shallow thrust, his head dropping forward as his length slides deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. The pressure of your tongue against the underside of his cock and the heavy reverberations of your soft, encouraging moans invigorate him to set a careful rhythm, hips stroking gently forward. 

Your knuckles dig into the messy sheets as he pivots his weight forward, and you quickly relax your jaw when you feel him inching closer to your throat with every thrust. Chanyeol is even more considerate than you thought he’d be, pulling out far enough between steady strokes that you can swallow lungfuls of oxygen before sliding smoothly back in, deeper and deeper each time. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes, mouth straining in order to accommodate his impressive girth. But hell, it’s worth it. Totally worth it.

His breathing became harsh and labored, filling his lungs with sharp, ragged inhales that shudder through the deep cavity of his chest. “F– fuck, y/n,” he groans hoarsely, head dipping as his eyes squeeze shut, “your mouth is— s- so good.” 

Your core tightens around nothing at the rasping whimper, the faint caress of his warm breath rousing goosebumps across the damp skin of your belly. The subconscious clenching of your thighs is wholly unintentional, but it does not go unnoticed. 

Chanyeol lets out a choked gasp as a hand slides into his hair, his upper body suddenly forced downwards. 

“Come on, Yeolie,” Baekhyun coos tauntingly in his ear, “you were the one going on and on about balance. So why don’t you provide some… ‘give and take’, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he barely whispers, but you still feel a rush of hot breath over your core and moan throatily around his cock. He tenses and shudders in response to the delicious rush of vibrations, tightening his grip on your hands as Baekhyun guides him lower. 

Honestly, you aren’t sure at first if you have another one in you. Three orgasms in one night was unimaginable before tonight. Four seemed simply unrealistic. Your poor pussy is still pulsing and trembling from the last. But the moment Chanyeol flicks his tongue over your clit, the most delicate of kitten licks, you know that you do. 

This time though, it’s like molten metal boiling in the pit of your stomach, a wholly unfamiliar sensation. Each press of his lips and roll of his tongue fans the fire blazing through your veins. You try your best to keep up, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, but it’s difficult when it feels like your brain is short circuiting. The pleasure is fiercer, more intense, rolling over you in thick, devastating waves. You’re reduced to little more a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, barely able to keep yourself from choking on his cock. 

Chanyeol’s hips buck frantically as your throat constricts, his own ministrations getting rougher and sloppier the closer he gets. You feel his teeth against your clit, then two long fingers slipping through your slicks folds and fucking themselves into your pussy. Baekhyun can only groan hotly at how easily you take his digits, squeezing his opposite hand around the base of his hard dick. 

“I’m gonna come,” Chanyeol whimpers hurriedly, “oh fuck I’m gonna come.” 

Suddenly, his hips pulse and your bottom lip make contact with the flat of his pelvis. It takes every ounce of control you have over your body to push back your gag reflex, but the way he trembles and breaks above you is undoubtedly worth the strain. A jumbled mess of words tumble from his lips as he comes, though only your name and a select few curses are intelligible between the deep, violent moans that burst from his chest. 

Tears fall from the corners of your eyes as he fucks himself into your mouth, motions stuttered and sloppy. But you swallow around him eagerly as he fills your throat with his release, which only serves in prolonging his orgasm until he’s shivering and whining and hell— each sound, each tremble has the coil in your stomach squeezing tighter and tighter. 

All the while, Baekhyun’s fingers are loyally exploring your silken walls until he once again discovers that small bundle of nerves that make your head spin. Combined with Chanyeol moaning and growling against your clit— you're a dead woman. 

This final orgasm is the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Every hair on your body jumps to stand at attention, oxygen suddenly igniting into flames in your lungs. You scream around Chanyeol’s cock, back bowing off the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. It’s so intense you honestly feel like you might pass out. But it’s so good, too good —fuck, it’s the best you’ve ever had!— and you want to relish in every mind numbing moment. 

All at once, Chanyeol is gone from between your lips and you gasp, a rush of cool air like a glass of ice water in the torrid desert flooding into your lungs and soothing the angry blaze. 

“Holy shit.” 

You’re too gone in the high to make out who the strained whisper had come from, or to notice the sudden substantial amount of wetness painting the insides of your thighs and seeping into the sheets below. Your brain feels thoroughly scrambled, effectively stupefied by the prodigious pleasure and you can do nothing but bask in it. 

“Have you ever done that before?” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize that the question is directed at you. 

“Hmm?” You hum blearily, not bothering to try and lift your head. 

“Squirting,” Baekhyun clarifies, voice thick with wonder, “have you ever done that before?” 

“Squirting? No, I’ve never—” your head snaps up, eyes bulging, “I squirted?!” 

If the excessive arousal currently coating (and dripping from) Chanyeol’s astonished face and the unusually large wet spot staining the sheets is anything to go by, the answer is a clear yes. 

Panic strikes your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I- I am so—”

“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare apologize.” Baekhyun abruptly cuts you off, splaying a hand over your belly. “That has to be the most— amazing thing I have ever seen. No girl has ever squirted on me before. I’m honestly honored.” 

“Baekhyun, please.” You whine, pulling a pillow over your feverish face and snapping your legs shut. 

“I’m serious!” He yelps indignantly, tugging the pillow away from you and tossing it to the side despite your noisy complaints. Two strong hands find either of your thighs and pry them apart in spite of your stubborn resistance, revealing the slippery mess you made on the sheets below. 

Heat rushes up your neck as Chanyeol falls into position between them like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and begins licking at your wet skin. The muscles of your thighs shake and tighten uncontrollably under the intimate ministrations, the post orgasm sensitivity extending beyond your core and into each of your limbs. 

“Chan,” you whimper remorsefully, clenching your fingers in the duvet, “I can’t. I can’t.” 

He smiles against your skin, licks turning into gentle kisses that make your heart flutter and melt in ways it definitely should not in response to your best friend’s big, sweet eyes. Then again— this entire situation is remarkably unconventional in regards to a typical friendship. Not that you’re complaining because really, how could you? Four orgasms? In one night? Unheard of. A part of you wonders if they were actually just trying to kill you. 

While Chanyeol bathes you in his limitless affection, Baekhyun vanishes from your side and into the attached bathroom, returning only moments later with a towel saturated with hot water. You hum gratefully as he carefully scrubs away the sheen of sweat and sticky arousal clinging to your skin. And he’s considerate, too? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

“You guys are going to ruin all other men for me, fucking hell.” You huff out a hoarse chuckle. Chanyeol suddenly flops down beside you, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder. 

“Who needs other men when you have us?” He rebukes, large hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. 

You can honestly find no reason to disagree. 

“Guys,” Baekhyun chimes once finished scrubbing you down, “let’s move to Chanyeol’s room. I need to throw these sheets in the washer before they get crusty. Made that mistake once. Never again.” 

“I would totally do that but I’m pretty sure my legs are numb.” 

“Ain’t no thang, pretty lady. I’ve got you.” Chanyeol chirps gallantly, slipping his arms beneath your legs and back. Before you can make any kind of protest, you’re being swooped off the bed and pressed into a warm chest. Shrieks of laughter peel from your lips as the gentle giant spins, and you throw your arms around his neck just for extra precaution. 

“Yeolie,” Baekhyun whines mockingly, stomping his foot childishly as he plasters an exaggerated pout across his face, “you never pick me up and twirl me around like a pretty princess.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you tease, extending a leg and pressing your toes against his chest, “only room for one pretty princess in this apartment.” 

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He scoffs as he stumbles back and falls dramatically back onto the mattress, hand splayed over his heart like you had somehow managed to wound him. 

“Speaking of washing,” Chanyeol chirps, glancing down at you, “How does a warm bath sound?” 

“Like heaven.” You groan. “Baek, feel free to join us after you're done doing your laundry.” You shoot him a mirthful grin as Chanyeol pivots and carries you out of the room that bears the musky, filthy scent of sex. 

“Wait you’re just gonna— but I—“ Baekhyun wavers, looking between your retreating figures and his stupid dirty sheets before letting out a groan of frustration and scurrying after you. “Fuck it. I’m coming, I’m coming!” 

“Is your bathtub big enough to fit three people?” You question, gaze landing on Baekhyun’s cute ass as he jogs ahead. 

Chanyeol shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “We can squeeze.” 

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“We can definitely squeeze.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

wonderland, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: The curious thing about adventure is that you never know when it starts. For Jeon Jungkook, it starts on a train, staring at a woman with exposed shoulders, eventually leading to his lips on her wrists, his tongue dancing over the words, eat me, drink me.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; graphic descriptions of fantasized sexual acts (fem reader, slight ink kink, biting / marking, dry humping, m and f-receiving oral, cowgirl, a ridiculous amount of sexual tension); non-idol!BTS; Alice Adventures in Wonderland themed; strangers-to-lovers; (purple-haired) Jungkook's POV; based on this

--

"How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn’t have come here.”

excerpt from alice's adventures in wonderland by lewis carroll

He swallowed hard.

He shouldn’t be staring.

But he was.

She turned her head and looked right at him.

He quickly jerked his eyes away, zoning in on a screw bolted to the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. He should not be gawking at some random woman on the train. That was creepy, no matter how attractive she was. Her outfit was eye-catching, that was all. He had noticed her because of the off-the-shoulder, v-neckline of her black-and-white tartan top that exposed her shapely collarbones and shoulders. The floaty bishop sleeves ended with delicate hands that were elegantly poised on her bare knees, complete with a flared black skirt that revealed most of her juicy thighs because of her crossed legs. And those calves. Fuck. All that and it unexpectedly ended with chunky, ribbon-laced black boots.

Beside her was a black leather purse that was shaped like a coffin.

It rested against her hip.

The train screeched to a stop and people began to move, shoes appearing in his line of vision. She didn’t notice, right? No. Of course not. He just… zoned out. He wasn’t staring at her collarbones and shoulders, imagining planting kisses over that skin, running his teeth over them and leaving bright red marks.

Shit, what the hell was wrong with him?

Someone sat down on the seat next to him. He scooted closer to the window, away from whoever it was. There were plenty of seats on the train. Something hit the outside of his thigh, flat and oddly-shaped.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the coffin purse against his black jeans.

He jumped, snapping his head up.

“Sorry about that.”

His eyes shifted and she was looking right at him.

Expression unreadable.

His heart exploded, frightfully fluttering like a trapped bird in his ribcage.

“I-It’s okay.”

She lifted the purse and placed it in her lap. Then she tapped her right ear.

“It’s the earring, isn’t it? You’re curious what it says.”

His eyes darted to the earrings gleaming on said ear. She had three piercings, all silver, two on the lobe and one on the cartilage. The cartilage was a ram skull whose horns curved around the outside of the ear. The two lobe piercings were a hoop with an embedded black stone and a large script earring that dangled down, swinging every time she moved her head.

It read, eat me, drink me.

“It matches these.”

She lifted her hands and turned them around, pulling down the bishop sleeves and exposing her wrists to him. One had a tattoo of a small, square-shaped cake with text printed in the center – eat me. The other was a bulbous, potion-shaped bottle with a vintage-looking tag on it in the same font – drink me.

“Alice in Wonderland,” he breathed.

She smiled at him and he swore his heartbeat multiplied into seven birds feverishly flapping in his ribcage.

She turned her wrists inward, resting them on her purse. “I don’t see many people with exposed tattoos,” she commented, ticking her head to his right hand.

“A-ah… yeah,” he stuttered, covering the back of his hand with his left, leaving only the sheepish emoji tattoo on his upper middle knuckle exposed. “My mom hates them. Well, not hate, but she doesn’t like that I got so many at once.”

“Your mom ever told you that staring is impolite?”

His cheeks burned hot. “S-Sorry!” He bowed his head downward in guilt, gulping nervously. From this position, he could see her hands.

The left was tipped up, exposing the eat me tattoo on her inner wrist.

“Whoa, no need to apologize like that. I was only teasing you.”

He lifted his head slowly and her wrist turned back inward, now simply the back of her hand. His eyes flickered up and she was looking right at him. He almost jerked his head away in embarrassment, but tried to maintain eye contact.

Don’t be a creep.

Her gaze was unwavering, unreadable.

“You think I’m weird, huh?” she said with an amused smile.

He blinked rapidly. “No. No, I don’t. I thought… your purse was pretty unique,” he offered, pointing to it. It made him look down to make sure he was pointing at the right thing.

Her right wrist was exposed to him, the drink me tattoo stark and enticing.

He had a brief, obscene image of his lips attached to it, running his tongue up and down the inked skin, catching a bit of it in between his teeth and releasing it, moan on the tip of his tongue.

He yanked himself out of the moment of jamais vu, quickly switching to her face, his peripheral vision noticing her wrist turned back inward, pressing against the leather. Her lips curved into a coy smirk.

“I get questions about that too, on the regular. I saw it in a shop and liked it, so I purchased it.”

A lock of purple hair fell into his vision, somehow dislodged from his ear, but he couldn’t look away. Something about her tone made it seem like she was going to say more, so he sat there, frozen, captured by those alluring eyes that called to him.

“That and if I’m single or not.”

He felt his eyes widen a little, breath catching in his throat, the birds in his ribcage smashing against their confines, anxiety and anticipation roused from deep within him. Fear wasn’t the right word. It was more like seeing something from the corner of your eye that makes you do a double take, a mix of curiosity and interest, invested in what you might see.

“I am, if you’re curious.”

“O-oh. I… see…”

Her smirk grew into sly delight. She lifted her right hand and placed her palm on her chin, lips against her closed fingers, elbow resting on the coffin purse. Movement slow, deliberate. His lips parted, more violet hair falling around his face. His normal nervousness would have him looking away and pushing it back, but he somehow couldn’t. At least there was safety in this veiled curtain of purple surrounding the edges of his vision. Her hand turned, fingers cupping the left side of her face. Lips sliding down, emphasizing the plushness of them, and he could almost feel the warm inhale on his skin, but there was no way he could – he wasn’t that close and she wasn’t breathing that hard, but that was the feeling he got. Goosebumps prickled on the back of his neck.

He held his breath.

Her lips pressed to her tattoo, the faintest flicker of tongue against the ink.

There was no way anyone would notice unless they were looking very closely to her mouth.

His lower lip trembled, shudder shaking his shoulders.

The train screeched to a stop and the intercom called nonsensically, mumbles as stamping feet rushed out. No one seemed to notice the impossible electricity of this moment, shrinking it to just him, those lips, and that tattoo, the drink me text right there between her lips, an image that he had already seen, except it was his lips on that skin, and that image was imaginary because it only existed in his head.

She pulled her lips away and looked out the window, past him.

“I have to get off at the next stop.”

He was the stop after the next.

“May I…?”

Her eyes drifted back to him. “Hm?”

His eyes flickered down to her right hand, her inner wrist resting on black leather.

“Have a closer look at your tattoo?”

He wasn’t looking at her face. He was staring at the back of her unmoving hand.

“I mean, if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable–”

But before he could finish his sentence, the wrist was turning, lifting, placed right in front of his hungry eyes. Her forearm slid down the leather, grazing her skirt, suspended in the air for the briefest of moments, and then it brushed against his thigh, his left hand turning, and her graceful wrist rested on the pad of his palm, black ink standing out against that skin.

He was touching it.

Holding it.

Her presence neared. His eyes widened.

Goosebumps prickling, her warm inhale feathering right on his curve of neck to shoulder. His white sweatshirt was several sizes too big so the neckline was also oversized, revealing the tops of his own collarbones.

“It doesn’t bother me. Take a look.”

The train rushed into a tunnel, deafening all sound, and then it was only her voice and his gaze on that potion bottle, mesmerized. His hand rose, lifting her arm close to his face, his breathing shallowing. What was he doing? This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

“If you want, you can bring it even closer. It's quite detailed.”

Insane.

He was lifting her hand, curiouser and curiouser, closer and closer, the script getting bigger and bigger, expanding, taking over his vision. His eyes following the elegant and prominent outline, drink me, the slightly dashed lines that emphasized the roundness of the bottle, the added etched fraying of the edges of the tag, drink me, the way the liquid was drawn to look like it was sloshing a little, as if it was really moving, drink me. He thought it was all in his head.

Her whisper, like sultry smoke, swaying the dangling earrings on his left ear.

“Drink me.”

He pressed his lips to the drink me script and moaned, so soft that she probably couldn’t hear it, but she could feel it on her wrist, vibrating her skin and his tongue tracing the lines, kissing softly, the taste somehow sweet, or was it just his imagination? Was it just a dream or was her body really a wonderland?

The edge of desire, on the cusp of something unknown.

He hadn’t even realized his eyes had closed and he opened them, seeing her looking directly at him, amusement sparkling in those mysterious orbs. He whimpered quietly, realizing how strange this was, how unbelievably weird, and this wasn’t him, this wasn’t something he ever thought he would do, or even something he ever imagined he would ever be in the position to do, kissing the wrist of a stranger on the train, but she pressed her wrist to his lips, her own parting in a faint Cheshire Cat smile.

“Don’t be afraid. I like it.”

He should let go and apologize for his odd behavior. His lips moved on her skin and there was nothing but her taste lingering on his lips, lost in images his head had conjured, tumbling, tumbling.

"Me too," he whispered, looking up into her eyes, silently saying, I don't know why.

Her smile was all he could see.

"You're very handsome...?" She tilted her head, inquiring.

The subway tunnel made the train roar around them.

"Jeon Jungkook."

The smile widened. She lifted her left wrist.

"Would you like to, Jungkook?"

His eyes flickered to it. The little square-shaped cake, eat me. Then back to her, heart racing, lowering her right and her left neared, his fingers slowly encircling her wrist, his eyes following the detail of the small crumbles, eat me, the added line shading to make the cake seem fluffed and appetizing, despite having no frosting or other decorations, eat me, the letters that looked almost stamped on her skin, eat me, and then he attached his lips to it, lightly nicking with his teeth, a nibble that flooded his senses with rushing pleasure.

He looked at her through his lashes, licking at her wrist, and she breathed out, unmistakable desire, her fingertips ghosting his cheek.

There was a sudden bloom of light as the train exited the tunnel, rays of overhead lights expanding through the windows, and he pulled back, gasping, holding her hand tightly, suddenly aware of the world around him, people getting up, sound crackling through the intercom, her hand in his and his thigh pressed against hers, the corner of her coffin bag digging into him because he was so close, so close to this stranger with beautiful tattoos and sweet-tasting skin.

The doors opened.

His eyes darted from her to their joined hands, then back to that faint grin playing on her lips, somehow the only thing he seemed to see.

"Coming?"

His other hand closed around his backpack.

They walked out together, hand in hand.

No one paid any attention to them.

Why would they? They had their own lives, hurrying home, pushing past each other, late for something, early for others. Time tick, tick, ticking, frowning at their wristwatches and wondering where the time had gone, an absurd thought, because time was made to provide linear reason to a nonexistent plane that flowed in every direction and preceded all other things, and so you were always late.

Always.

Jungkook stared at the back of her exposed shoulders, her hair pushed to the left, script earring dangling of her right ear, following on her light steps, all while holding her left hand and watching those muscles flex and relax, spellbound by the movement. She weaved through the crowd, slinking in spaces where he didn't think there was space, stopping for a moment to let someone pass, and Jungkook bumped into her back, his body flush to hers. Because of her tall shoes, the height difference was lessened and those long legs meant her ass and his crotch matched up is perfectly when otherwise they wouldn't.

His breath caught in his throat at the contact of softness to his hardness.

"Thank you for waiting."

The old woman smiled gratefully and the younger bowed her head, letting the elder take careful strides to the escalators.

She rolled her hips into Jungkook's jeans and his unbearable, stiff erection slid down his right pant leg, trapped against his inner thigh and layers of fabric, hot and pulsing.

He swallowed hard, releasing his backpack to grip her shoulder, turning his head so his long purple hair shadowed his eyes and cheek, smelling the tea-like scent of her hair. His inked hand stood out against the nakedness of her shoulder. She turned her head and the long earring bumped against his cheek, icy cold to flushed skin.

The images crept into his mind, them sitting on the train and her in his lap, his left hand pressing her head forward, her hair spilling down, neck and shoulders exposed to his waiting mouth, lips to delectable skin, kissing, sucking, biting, his hands sliding down the curves, pushing her legs apart, spreading them wide, his nails sinking into her inner thighs, her ass on his crotch, grinding down. Marks on those shoulders and neck, her mouth open and soft cries tickling his ears, her hands finding his, eat me on top of his left wrist, drink me above his right wrist, his hands sliding down to wet heat, fingertips pressing into drenched, slick fabric.

What was wrong with him?

"Let's walk a little, hm?"

Jungkook had been holding her left with his left. He let go of her shoulder and readjusted his backpack on his, standing behind her, not quite shy, but still shadowing the path she laid for him, his steps in her steps, his breath on her neck as he spoke in this moment.

"I'm not like this, normally."

He wasn't like this, ever.

"Isn't it alright to fall into abnormality to discover what is wild and new?"

His lips brushed the ram earring on her cartilage, gasping lightly as her hips swayed against the front of his pants, instant, hot, radiating friction.

Her fingers that were laced with his stroked the back of his hand.

This train stop connected to an underground mall, still alive with people and open shops. The scent of restaurants cooking away at this busy time made the air heavy and thick, wafting around the crowd, inciting customers to fill their bellies.

"Does it bother you?" she asked, walking through the crowd with feline grace, but there was a playfulness to her movement. She turned back to look at him, smile dancing on her lips.

"Uh... I... I don't know," he admitted truthfully, staring at those lips, feeling them ghosting his inner thigh, long tongue extending and licking his hard, throbbing length from tip to base before pushing it up, making him gasp, tongue swirling around the bottom, wrapping around his balls, soaking them with saliva, her eyes on him, watching, her wrist pressed to the red, aching, leaking head of his cock, pre-cum smearing all over the words, drink me.

"That's odd, Jungkook. Usually people know if they're bothered by something."

His eyes drifted up from her lips to her eyes, little lights that glimmered or maybe it was simply the sparkly lighting of the whimsical shops around them, crammed full of knickknacks and cute things. Something caught his eye in one of the windows – a writing desk, covered in pastel stationery, set up with pens and half-written notes, as if the busy student had just left the desk.

An obsidian raven plush was perched at the corner of the desk, looking down at the mess left behind by an imaginary child dreamt up by sales associates.

He looked back to her right in front of him. Her head was tilted, her body twisted because he was still holding her left hand. In her right, she held her coffin purse.

"It's not you I'm bothered by," he said slowly, realizing that it was the truth as he said it. Despite this woman being completely unfamiliar to him, a riddling enigma, she had done nothing but present him with things to consider.

"I don't understand what's going on in my head."

He let go of her hand.

Underneath these lights and surrounded by passerby that walked around them without a second thought, Jungkook stared into the eyes of the stranger of his memory.

His hand tentatively touched her waist, waiting for her to step back. She stepped forward, into his warmth. His fingers closed, resting snugly on tartan fabric and the waistband of her skirt, the slimmest sliver of skin in between the two articles of clothing.

She smiled.

"You're a little curious, aren't you?"

His middle finger pushed the hem upward, the pad of his finger directly on her skin.

Her lips parted.

Her left hand raised, touching his chest lightly, elegant fingers barely on the fabric, but he felt more, felt those fingers dig into his sweatshirt and clutch it tightly, pulling it up and over his head, his own left hand pressing her chest down, grabbing the bottom of that off-the-shoulder tartan top, his lips on her stomach, hungry kisses, his hands on her skirt, forcing her to hold it up, dragging her panties down as he looked up at her on his knees before leaning to hot, wet nectar, letting it fill his tongue and mouth, the viscous juices sticking to his lips, his cheeks, sweet and tart, so delicious, and he wanted it all, his hands gripping her ass, fingers of her left hand tangling in his hair, pushing him closer, not letting him go until she was satisfied, her wrist surrounded by dark purple stands curling around the words, eat me.

"You have beautiful eyes, Jungkook."

He blinked, the image gone, feeling his neck heat. "R-Really?"

Her hand lifted off his chest and reached up, nearing his face. Her fingers traced the air, hovering.

"The shape. The way it raises in the center and curves down like this," she whispered to his chin, sounding awed. "The inner corner, so sharp and defined. And the color, like freshly brewed black tea cradled in a delicate teacup."

It was the most bizarre love letter to his eyes that he had ever received and, yet, it suited her and tore his heart asunder, beating wildly in his chest, the anxious birds trapped in his ribcage suddenly released, the stinging air of his rushed exhale making him feel strangely detached, as if his head was no longer part of his body.

"Touch me," Jungkook whispered.

Her fingers millimeters from his face, the eat me cake tattoo and his own purple hair shrouding his peripheral vision.

Fingertips pressed to his right cheekbone, caressing it gently.

He started at her lips and he could feel it, her hand encircling his head, lips to lips, heated, all-encompassing kisses that consumed him, his hands on her waist, pulling her on top of him, his hardness pressed to her softness, sliding in between soaked folds, her gasp on his tongue, gripped by her tight walls wrapped around his stiff length as he pushed deeper, his eyes rolling back as he bottomed out, her tongue tracing his open mouth, her teeth nipping on his lower lip, whispering his name in burning ecstasy, rocking her hips to his, surreal pleasure enveloping him, her hands in his hair, moaning onto his chin as she held onto him, his hands clutching her hips, lost in the heat, the softness, the tightness, the sweetness, thrusting up into her pussy, his cock drenched with her, their dragged-out pants echoing as he took her wrists, one by one, pressing eat me, drink me to his lips, his tongue tracing a circle around the words, staring into her eyes, a wonderland he had yet to discover, all in a golden afternoon.

"Jungkook, may I kiss you?"

He blinked, realizing his gaze had landed on her collarbones and shoulders. He raised his head, a smile forming in his lips.

"Please."

She leaned in and he met her halfway, lips to lips, her wispy, contented sigh as they connected, warm and inviting. His hands around her waist, holding her to him, and her hand cupped his jaw, fingers sliding back to tangle in his purple hair, pressing her chest and thighs to his body, tongue flitting against tongue, teasing, and he wasn't like this normally, truly, all of this was absurd on many levels, but the kiss was like being shaken awake, comforting him from head to toe, the sounds of people swirling around them. Laughter, conversation, footsteps going forward.

The kiss broke. She pulled away with a smile, her lips flushed from the contact.

"What's your name?" he asked breathlessly.

She laughed, leaning against him, her fingers playing with his long violet hair.

Her name, formed by her lips and then by his, the beginning of an adventure.

What a curious, curious happening for Jeon Jungkook.

--

masterpost

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 10)

Previously on LBitR...

“Calm down,” Lena whispers, even though she’s having trouble doing exactly that at the sight of the empty bench where she had left Kara waiting not even an hour ago.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Alex hisses; the muzzle of her gun dis rather painfully on her back, and Lena would really like to step away from it, but the agent has her arm locked in a vice grip. “Where the hell is she, Lena? She was here when I followed you in!”

“Walk with me,” Lena says, quickly scanning the area--they’re standing in a stiff, unnatural way, and the last thing she wants is to draw any attention, especially when they’re both wearing stolen LuthorCorp lab coats right outside the building. She takes one tentative step away, hooking her arm around Alex’s as if they were just friends walking down the street arm-in-arm.

Thankfully, Alex understands Lena’s not-so-subtle hint faster than Kara ever could; her image-induced expression relaxes into a smile that barely looks forced, and her grip of Lena’s arm, though still tight and borderline painful, shifts so that it appears more casual.

“Is there any way you could have been followed?” Lena asks, subtly looking around them, noting that Alex is doing the same.

“That’s always a possibility,” Alex admits, sounding both panicked and defeated at once. “But I was very careful.”

“OK, let’s not panic yet,” Lena tells both Alex and herself. “Kara and I made plans to rendezvous back at the motel if I was gone too long or if anything happened.”

Alex gives her a look--it’s weird to have a patented Alex-Danvers-look-of-disapproval coming from a stranger’s face. “You weren’t gone for long, though.” She doesn’t voice the alternative.

Unthinkably, Lena reaches out and gently pats the hand on her arm. She means for it to be reassuring--it’s the kind of thing she would do for Kara--the kind of thing she has been doing for Kara over the last couple of weeks, but Alex looks just as puzzled by the action as Lena is.

She removes her hand and clears her throat. “Still, our best bet is the motel. Did you drive here?”

Alex nods. “Great,” Lena continues, mind already working a mile a minute. “Kara probably took the bus back--we didn’t want the car to be seen downtown,” she explains, and Alex lets out an undignified snort.

“That’s remarkably sensible of you,” she quips sarcastically. Lena ignores her.

“What I’m saying is, if you drove here and we take your vehicle, we may beat Kara to the motel, or get there shortly after her. It’s one hour from LuthorCorp to the motel by bus--she’ll switch routes at least twice on the way.”

Alex looks impressed despite herself. “And if she doesn’t show, what then, genius?” she challenges, lips pursed.

Lena breathes out steadily, calmly. “She will,” she says with as much conviction as she can possibly muster in her tone, because the alternative is simply unthinkable.

Alex smacks her lips, slowing her walk as she considers their limited options. “Fine,” she finally concedes, dragging Lena down an alleyway.

They dispose of their lab coats in a trashcan in that same alley, and Alex practically hauls Lena towards a secluded spot behind down another alley a few blocks away.

“You better hold on,” she says, removing a few strategically placed cardboard boxes to reveal a sleek black motorcycle, discreetly parked behind a dumpster. “I did not bring an extra helmet.”

Lena does hold on, mainly because Alex weaves and cuts through traffic like an absolute manic as she follows the directions Lena has to practically shout in her ear as they go. She knows Alex is desperate to find Kara and make sure she’s OK, but Lena also wishes she would ease off the gas a little; she’s got enough to be afraid of at the moment.

She feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest when they finally reach the hotel; they’re nowhere close to the room she and Kara had checked into, but she’s already fumbling in her purse for her key card. with Alex hot on her heels.

They stumble into the room together, and Lena has to stop, has to take a second to try to stop the cold dread she immediately feels at finding it empty, exactly as they had left it this morning.

Alex begins pacing like a caged tiger immediately. “She’s not here,” she gasps, tapping at the image inducer at her temple, and then it’s Alex, really Alex, looking worried and panicked and slightly disheveled in this empty room, and now Lena is belatedly realizing it’s up to her, Supergirl’s would-be killer, to try and comfort the hero’s sister while they wait.

As if she is not on the verge of a panic attack herself.

“We knew she wouldn’t be,” she tries to reason, keeping her voice as even as she can, though she can’t stop tugging at her fingers out of sheer nervousness.

She’s doing the math in her head, thinking of the bus schedules, of which one Kara probably had gotten on and when; she’s mapping out the routes in her mind, considering the usual trip times, factoring in the average Metropolis traffic at two in the afternoon on a Thursday.

Alex takes one look at Lena’s fidgeting hands and immediately sighs, sinking into one of the beds. “Take that stupid wig off,” she barks. “Blonde you is freaking me out.”

That lets out a little chuckle, but it feels like some kind of hysteria. She takes a seat on the opposite bed, and Alex regards her quizzically.

“Kara said something similar yesterday,” she explains, carefully removing the wig and setting it on the nightstand. “That’s too bad; I really thought I was pulling it off.”

The attempt at humour falls completely flat--Lena can see it plainly in Alex’s wooden expression. “You definitely weren’t,” she deadpans. Her knee is bouncing up and down, up and down, up and down, boot tapping dully on the carpet.

It’s driving Lena insane.

“Kara will be here soon,” Lena says, still tugging at her fingers. Alex doesn’t look convinced. 

“And if she doesn’t?”

Lena has no answers to that, refuses to consider the possibility.

“She will,” she says again, in an almost silent whisper, for her own comfort. “She will, she will, she will.”

Alex says nothing, only continues with her bouncing knee, keeps her gaze locked onto Lena. And Lena, Lena tries not to squirm under the agent’s scrutiny; she fidgets, she stares at the blinking red numbers of the alarm clock, steals glances at the door--she looks at anything and anywhere to avoid Alex’s gaze.

When Alex does speak again, her voice is low, but it still startles Lena enough for her to jump a little in surprise.

“What do you remember about that day, Lena?”

When Lena turns to face her, Alex’s eyes are as hard as stone. Her scowl has returned, and the way her brows are furrowed is far more telling than the cold tone of her voice. It says, plain and simple, I don’t trust you.

It takes Lena a long time to come up with an answer Alex may find even remotely satisfactory--she knows that ‘I don’t know’ that is on the tip of her tongue simply won’t cut it, even if it is the honest answer. Her memories, the few that she does have from that day, are murky and sparse, and don’t feel altogether hers.

She struggles to recall any details, searches the blurred images interred somewhere in her subconscious and tries to make sense of the tangled mess she has been left with. “Flashes,” she tries, settling for as much truth as she can muster at the moment. She swallows. “I remember... I remember Kara falling--I remember seeing her from the top floor at LuthorCorp.”

Alex raises a brow like she doesn’t fully believe her. “The top floor?” she asks, voice oddly neutral. “Not from the basement labs? You didn’t watch it from the screens?”

Lena furrows her brows, tries to poke at whatever remnants of memory she has latched on to. “No, I don’t...” she closes her eyes, sees Kara falling, riddled with green, her body limp falling past her windows as fast as a bullet. “I-I don’t think so, I was... I think I was at the top floor.”

“You were apprehended in the basement, Lena,” Alex says brusquely.

“N-no, that can’t be right,” Lena chokes out, but all she sees behind her lids is Kara’s body falling, and her mind provides the most horrifying sound effect as it hits the pavement. “That can’t be, I watched her fall, I w-watched from my window.”

Alex shakes her head. “What do you remember before the rockets?”

Lena rattles her brain with difficulty; her lungs can’t quite return to their normal rhythm with the images her mind is supplying. “Before?” she gasps, keeping her eyes shut so she doesn’t have to see, doesn’t have to wither under Alex’s unyielding disappointment and doubt.

“M-myriad, the, um, the Fortress, ah... I was there with K-kara, and--”

She’s close to hyperventilating; she can’t get the image of Kara’s body--her bloody, broken body falling, falling--out of her mind.

“The Fortress? Lena that was two weeks befo--Lena? Lena, are you OK?”

Lena can’t respond--she can’t speak, she can’t even breathe. her brain is giving her the most terrifying flashes of memories, memories that don’t feel like her own, and she’s scrambling to fill that gaps at the same time as the images come, unbidden, to her mind. Her mental boxes are teetering, swaying in their little organized, compartmentalized stacks, unbalanced, and she can’t, she can’t breathe.

“Shit,” she vaguely hears Alex say, marginally registers the agent rushing to her side, but then someone is touching her and there is another flash--it is white hot and painful in her brain, like an electric shock, and she feels someone grabbing at her shoulders, pushing her down hard, pulling, and dragging, and, and--

Lena yelps and recoils, bats away at the hands reaching for her shoulders in uncontrollable, all-consuming panic.

“HEY!”

It’s another voice, worried, coming from someone bursting through the door with force, nearly slamming it off its hinges. Lena’s only somewhat aware of Alex yelling--she sounds happy, surprised, worried, and a whole gamut of other things Lena cannot focus on, because suddenly, there’s just warmth all around her.

She’s being held, tight, tight, tight, but it isn’t restrictive--it’s the opposite, warm and comforting and it envelops her almost entirely, like a heavy blanket, muting the sounds of her own frantic heartbeat.

“Sh, Lena, it’s just me. You’re OK. I’m here, I’m here.”

It’s Kara’s voice--low in a soothing murmur, rumbling in her chest as she whispers right at Lena’s ear, and the vibrations are soft, reassuring, and tranquil, almost enough to ease Lena’s trembling.

She’s wrapped tight in Kara’s arms as her awareness returns, slowly and fuzzy. Kara’s hand rubs circles on her back, and Lena instinctively tucks her head under Kara’s chin, seeking more of her warmth. Kara is taking deep, deliberate breaths, and Lena finds herself subconsciously trying to match them at every inhale and exhale, using the pressure of the rise and fall of Kara’s chest against hers as guidance.

When the flashes cease, she dares open her eyes again. Over Kara’s shoulder, her gaze locks with Alex, who’s awkwardly standing to the side, watching them closely.

“OK,” the agent says, gaping a little. “What the fuck?”

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

<< Previous || Next >>

[librapjmx]

remember, my love | o1

summary: after a car accident the love of your life loses his memory. you’re deciding to keep shut about your relationship and make him remember your relationship on his own. somehow, you start to regret not telling him in first place

member: hoseok x reader

"Accidents sometimes affect a patient's mind so much that they either lose their memory or remember things very faintly."

You took a deep breath at the words of the doctor while squeezing the hand of Hoseok's mother from behind. She was sitting on the chair and you stood behind her, comforting her in the doctor's consulting room. You bit your lip as your gaze dropped to his father's place who was sitting next to his wife.

"Medically, this state is called retrograde amnesia. Patients like them lead a normal life, but they can't remember their past..." he stopped mid-sentence as he took a deep breath preparing on how to tell you, "That's just what happened to your son."

"Doctor, please just tell us what he has!" Hosoek's mother sobbed in pain.

The doctor bit his lower lip as he took a pen to play along. Indeed, he was slightly nervous and was worried about your reactions but as a doctor, he must tell you even if it's the worst news he can give to you.

"He lost his memory."

The whole world stopped right in front of you and your smile dropped. The smile which was caused by Hoseok's eyes moving and opening while you held his hand tightly. Just as he pecked his eyes open you ran up to the doctor, yelling out of happiness. It's insane how fast one's emotions can change by single words. Your vision became blurry and you stepped back, your back hitting the wall behind you.

"He doesn't remember me? His parents? His sister? Anyone?" You mumbled, your hand reaching out to the chair in front of you. You felt yourself getting dizzy as you supported yourself on the chair from not passing out.

"With great difficulty, we have convinced him that you are his family." He added, trying to make you all feel slightly better.

"Doctor, when will he regain his memory?" His sister Dawon asked, sounding extremely calm which was slightly penetrating. The day you told her about his accident she went crazy and threw all the things around her in anger and sorrow. She was crying her eyeballs out and now, she was calm which made you worry about her.

"It might take days, months or even years or maybe he will never regain his memory at all. He might have to spend a lifetime in this state. Nothing can be said for sure." The doctor was switching gazes between you four.

"We do try to make patients regain their memory by reminding them of past incidents. But you must be careful. Keep in mind that the slightest bit of pressure on his mind can drive him insane! He could suffer a brain hemorrhage. He could even die!" His tone was deadly serious, and he didn't mind telling you this ugly truth to protect his patient.

You closed your eyes as you let the tears fall, making you feel the pain even harder. You felt like it was your fault.

"If possible, take him to a place where his memories lay. His hometown, anywhere. Try to remind him of any old incidents." Suddenly, the doctor laid his eyes on you. Your heart jumped in fear as you realized that you were part of his past. You would be part of his future as well but now that you're not even in his past you must be a part of his present. But, can you tell him that you are his girlfriend? Would it cause damage? You didn't want to cause more harm and damage than he already had to go through.

"When will he be discharged?" You asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"He still has to recover fully but it will take at least two to three days." He nodded. You all left the office with sad expressions written all over your faces. In front of Hoseok's door, his best friend Namjoon waited. Once you made eye contact with Namjoon you smiled faintly. Before Hoseok's mother went in you held her back.

You thought deeply about this and weren't sure if you had to or if it was a decision you made abruptly. No matter what, you wanted him to be healthy and happy again even if his happiness excluded you.

"I don't want to tell him that I'm his girlfriend. Not now." You said, looking at the ground. You felt Namjoon's gaze on you as Hoseok's mother nodded, wanting to see her son as soon as possible. Indeed, you knew that this was the last thing she had to worry about now. No matter how much his parents like you, their son is more precious than anything else in this world. You knew that they are accepting and tolerant of your decision and that they never ask why. As for now, it was important for you to keep them shut about your relationship. The two of them went in and you looked up into the questioning gazes of Dawon and Namjoon.

"What are you doing? How can you not tell him something important like that?" Dawon furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"You two shared five years together, you can't just erase those memories just because he can't remember." Namjoon stood up from the chair on which he was sitting on.

"I won't erase them," you assured him and turned around to the door as you looked through the small window, seeing him trying to smile at his parents, "I don't want to pressure him in spending time with me. For him, a stranger. I don't want him to come to our shared flat and make him sleep next to a person which he has no feelings or connections with." You felt your throat burning as you wanted to cry out all the pain.

"Bullshit!" Dawon exclaimed and grabbed your shoulder to turn you around.

"Hoseok was head over heels for you! He won't forget the love of his life and the girl he wanted to propose to if it weren't for that fucking accident!" Her voice was quiet hoarse as if she was about to break down. Your heart dropped as you remembered the night where his accident happened.

He called you, telling you that he wanted to meet you badly. You were working and happy that your shift was ending in a couple of hours. If it weren't for you to ask him to pick you up, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Perhaps, the two of you would be snuggling up to each other. Now, you knew why he was so nervous when he called you. At the same time, he sounded so happy and joyful. If it weren't for that accident you two would've made plans for your marriage.

He wanted to propose ...

You started to chuckle loudly, in between sobs and cries, not sure how to feel about this whole situation right now. You turned around to the window, your hands reaching out to him but only touching the cold glass of the window. He shouldn't be lying there. You bit your lip as your gaze landed on your hand, examining the ring finger where his proposal ring should be lying on. The ache in your heart was indescribable. You wanted to cry, but no tears left your eyes. Instead, you started smiling widely as you turned around to Namjoon and Dawon.

"I don't know what destiny decided. If we are really meant for each other or not." You looked at Dawon, "Hoseok has lost his memory and since I and his love for me are part of his memory, he will most likely forget about me as well." Biting your lip, you furrowed your eyebrows.

"If our love is meant to be then I'm sure that fate will bring us together again. If I really have a special place in his heart he will remember me. I'm sure he will. But I want him to decide at the end." You clarified, sounding determined about your decision.

"But what if..." Namjoon started but you shut him off by holding out your hand and shaking your head. You knew that if anything goes wrong and he doesn't love you again, you must let him go.

"Just please accept my decision for now. I don't want to pressure him. I just want him to fall in love with me again and not being forced to love me just because we tell him that I'm his girlfriend." The two of them nodded quite frustrated because they didn't want you to suffer from heartbreak if life chooses a different direction for him.

You turned around again and opened the door, going into the nursing room. He heard someone entering the room and investigated your direction. His eyes lit up and you smiled softly at him which he tried to return.

"Hey, Hoseok" Dawon waved her hands at him and took his hands in hers. She grinned widely at him, her eyes were red from crying as she looked at his face.

"Dawon" He breathed out and for a slight moment you thought that he regained his memory, but you remembered the doctor saying that they convinced him of who his family is. She wrapped her fragile arms around his neck as she hugged him wholeheartedly. Slowly, she leaned back and stepped back, letting him get to know you and Namjoon.

"Hoseok, that's Namjoon. Your best friend." Namjoon didn't know what to do and he felt slightly embarrassed about his behavior. After all, it's really his best friend. Nonetheless, Hoseok gave Namjoon a wide smile in return as he nodded. Once his eyes land on you, his smile dropped, and he cleared his throat. Everyone had their gazes on you and waited for your answer, curiously.

"I'm Y/N ..." you mumbled, feeling the tears coming up and your throat burning from holding them back, "We're friends." He just nodded and tried to smile which didn't happen at all. You felt his stare not leaving your direction and you hoped that he tried to remember you. Little did you know that it wasn't happening.

"I, I will leave now. I'll visit you tomorrow again." You reached out your hand for Hoseok to shake it, but he remained confused. When he realized your gesture he hesitantly grabbed it. His warmth was giving you the relaxing feeling which he always gave you. When you came home from work, a little affection and skinship would be enough to calm your senses. Now, you had to start to relax on your own. Now, you had to get used to deal with situations on your own.

"I'll drop you at home," Namjoon said and you nodded, saying your goodbyes to his parents.

You and Namjoon left the hospital quietly, not talking to each other while hopping into his car. He grabbed the steering wheel firmly as he focused on the road. The thought of his best friend losing his memory, was a miserable feeling. He felt powerless and hoped for his best friend to recover as soon as possible. To remember the old times, their childhood and their friendship.

"He will be okay..." you assured him, trying to calm him down since you felt him being tense overall. He chuckled, the sorrow was written in his cracking voice.

"I hope so."

Somehow, you felt a little selfish. Of course, the first thing you want is Hoseok to regain his memory. Nonetheless, it was an awful accident and he was lucky to survive. Him living is more important than him loving you. If he takes his breath, in and out, you'll be able to love him. You'll be able to see him anytime you want to.

"We have to be there for him, no matter what. We must help him regain his memory and remember all the beautiful moments we all shared together. He always made sure to give us hope and now, it's our turn to give him hope in recovering." You said, seeing your shared house with Hoseok from your angle.

"He is so lucky to have you..." Namjoon breathed out after he stopped the car in front of your flat.

"To be honest, I'm lucky to have him." You smiled at Namjoon, thanking him for dropping you home. You got out of the car and waved to him as he drove off.

Taking a deep breath, you turned around, slowly. You started at your door, approaching it while you remembered the time you agreed in moving together. He was so joyous and gleeful that he started looking for a flat. You left it for him to decide because you trusted his taste and eventually you started loving the one he chooses. You opened the door and felt the warmth surrounding your body as soon as you stepped a foot in your home.

Your shared home.

-

"Did you pack all of your belongings?" Namjoon asked through the phone speaker, you could hear the hurry in his voice.

"Yes, I'm waiting for you." You said as he assured you that he would be picking you up in less than 20 minutes.

You weren't going on a holiday trip or on a business trip. You were leaving with Hoseok and his family to his hometown. Gwangju.

A  couple days after his recovery, Hoseok's father decided to leave for  his hometown in hope to have him regain his memory again. Gwangju is  where his childhood lays and where his memories began. You pretty much  knew everything about him but no details about his past life, you didn't  ask him because you didn't think his past was necessary at all since  you loved the present Hoseok.

Of course, you wanted to help him  regain his memories and on the top of that, you couldn't let him go all  alone since you had a mission. The mission, to make him love you again.  Love ...

Your phone vibrated, signaling you to come out to leave.  Namjoon and you drove separately from the Jung family. The distance from  Seoul to Gwangju was far that's why you booked tickets to fly for less  than an hour to his hometown.

"You got everything?" Namjoon asked  while he helped you put the suitcases in the luggage space. You nodded,  smiling widely at him.

"Have you ever been to Gwangju?" Namjoon asked, focusing on the road in front of him.

"Before  his parents moved to Seoul we went there a few times. But the last time  was probably two years ago." You stared at your fingers which were  laying on your lap while you played with them.

"Are you worried?"  He asked, noticing the tension between you two. You and Namjoon were  good friends since you started dating Hoseok. He always supported you  two and helped you to get along with each other. Even when both of your  had arguments and didn't talk to each other, he made sure to bring both  of you together. He always was a helping hand, as a friend for you and  as a brother for Hoseok. That's why you hoped for the two of them to get   used to each other again.

"I'm fine." You lied. You weren't fine at all. Not when Hoseok was suffering and forgetting about his past.

You  got out of the car and took your luggage before you went to the airport  to meet the others at the check-in. From behind you saw Hoseok and his  sister talking to each other. He was laughing at something she said.  Something in your stomach started twirling at the sight of his  expressions, the way he laughed wholeheartedly at her. After the day  where the doctor told you that he is suffering from amnesia, you made  sure to visit him as long as he had to be hospitalized. You tried to  keep the contact, calling him and asking how he was. Just like two  strangers. After they decided to leave Seoul for Gwangju, you left  everything behind and agreed in accompanying them. That was a good way  to spend time with him.

You greeted his parents after Namjoon and  you gave the check-in your luggage and took your boarding pass. Turning  around to Dawon, you wrapped your arms around her and hugged her  tightly.

"I'm glad you will accompany us." She whispered into your ear and leaned back.

You  turned to Hoseok, smiling at him while he gave you a wide smile. He  didn't change at all. He was always so warm and gentle towards other  people.

"Destination: Gwangju. All passengers on Korean Air must  go to the gate. The plane will begin boarding in 10 minutes." The woman  called out from the speakers and all of you gathered around the  departures lounge to find the right gate, written on your boarding pass.

After  getting on the plane you sat down, right next to Namjoon who was on the  side of the window. When you turned your head to look behind you, you  saw Hoseok sitting right behind you, on the other side. He was next to  his sister and stared down at the phone, swiping left and right.  Probably looking at some pictures. Your eyes meet Dawon's who started  mouthing some words. You furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding what  she was referring to. Then she started pointing towards your seat and  hers. You observed the people next to you, signaling yourself that she  was referring to you and wanted to switch seats. You shook your head   hesitantly, but she stood up.

"Y/N, let's switch seats, I have to  talk to Namjoon!" She lied, passing by Hoseok and running up to you. You  shook your head, but she grabbed your arms as she helped you up. Once  you were on your feet, she pushed you to sit down, giving the confused  Namjoon a wide smile.

"The passengers are asked to sit down and  take their seatbelts on. Ready for takeoff!" The speaker said, and you  had no other chance than to sit down next to Hoseok who was just as  confused as Namjoon. You sighed, letting yourself fall into the seat  while putting on your seatbelt.

"As a friend, you're not that happy to be able to sit next to me..." Hoseok chuckled, concentrating on the seatbelt.

"No,  it's not like that. It's just-" you stopped mid-sentence, trying to  think of a good answer. To be honest, you didn't know why you were  afraid of facing him- "It's just that I don't want you to feel  uncomfortable."

"Nah, I'm good." He clarified, staring into your eyes with a huge grin, "We're friends after all."

Friends.

You  nodded, smiling a little at him. You had to get easier next to him,  simply calmer and more comfortable. After all, he still was the man whom  you love. It felt strange to not be able to hold his hands or kiss him  whenever you want.

"Y/N?" Ah, the way he said your name was music to your ears.

"Hm?"

"Can  you tell me something about us?" He plainly asked, not hesitating. As  much as you were afraid of this question, you waited for it to come out.  That day was today. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you turned  around to him.

"Us?" Oh, I could tell you so much about us.

He  nodded. You didn't want to lie to him so much and maybe your real  encounter would help him to remember even the slightest bit. The only  lie he will think of a truth as is you being his "friend".

"We,"  Using the pronoun to specify the two of you and reassuring that there is  something between you to, means a lot to you, "As if it was planned by  fate." You started, thinking back to the time where you left the huge  building in which you were working in.

Walking up to the coffee  shop in which you were always spending your lunch break. You were  working on in a radio show as a radio presenter in 'iwishradio'. It was a  tough week since a huge scandal broke down and with that two actors got  married and you tried everything to get them to your radio show for  more quotas and listeners.

Once you entered the shop, you  were greeted by the part-time worker Yunji who was a high-school senior,  trying to earn money for her college entry. You smiled at her, stopping  behind a man who was ordering his coffee. You looked up at his head  from behind. He seemed to be very tall that's why you stepped aside to  have a look at the sweets they were selling along with the coffee.

"That's 5,000 Won, Mister," Yunji said, pushing the buttons on the cash register and waiting for the man to pay.

When  it took too long you decided to side eye the man who was touching his  chest and went through his jacket. You looked up and stared up at him,  wondering what the issue was. He let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"Where  is my purse-" he grabbed into his pockets, not finding anything- "I'm  sure I've brought it with myself..." His head turned to the side, noticing  that someone stood by. At that moment, his blood rushed up to his  cheeks, shading it in a soft pink as his eyes met your confused ones.

"Ah, excuse me, please go on until I find my purse." He stuttered in a small panicky voice.

You bowed slightly, thanking him for letting you get your coffee.

"Yunji,  I'll take the Americano as always." You said, turning around to the man  who was still struggling to find his purse. You pulled out your own  purse and turned around to Yunji, handing her money.

"Can  you take the Misters coffee on me?" You asked, handing her more money to  pay the coffee of the struggling man. You turned around to the man and  smiled, "It once happened to me as well, so don't worry about it."

He  bowed his head and smiled softly, slightly embarrassed "Thank you.  Please let me pay you back-" you cut him off, reaching for the two  coffee cups and handing him one- "Don't worry about it. It's okay, it's  on me."

He grabbed the coffee, biting his lip as he felt himself getting even more awkward.  

You  looked at your wrist, checking the time, "I have to leave already!  Enjoy your coffee, Mister!" You took off, realizing that you had an  interview ahead which you couldn't attend late. Once you reached the  building you ran up the stairs of the huge building, reaching the  presenters' room. You took a sip of your coffee as you sat down on your  chair, placing the earbuds on your ears. You stared at your director,  waiting for their signal for your start.

He had a wide grin on his face, enjoying the story you told him.

"That's  it?" He asked when you stopped telling him about the rest. You  swallowed hard because after that it wasn't fate who brought you  together. It was the choice of you two over time, but you didn't know  how to tell him that in a non-romantic way.

The next day was a   cold winter day. It wasn't snowing but rather was it outstandingly windy  and the sky was dark and grey as if it was about to rain on the first  day of February. Showing you that winter is slowly disappearing. You  pressed your coat tightly against your chest as you entered the coffee  shop.

"The same?" Yunji as you gave her a slight nod,  rubbing your hands together. Just as you wanted to pay her, someone  reached out to the cashier and handed her the money. A shadow appeared  next to you and you looked to your side. That's when you noticed the man  from yesterday. Your mouth dropped as you wanted to say something.

"It's on me today." He smiled, taking the cup of coffee to hand it to you. You smiled as you gladly accepted his repay.

"Thanks."  Nodding, you went up to an empty chair next to the huge window,  watching the people passing by. Slowly, you started nipping at your  coffee as you examined the sky, getting a feeling that it will rain any  minute soon.

You were brought back to reality once you  heard a chair being pulled back and the man from earlier sitting down in  front of you.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned back, "Excuse me?" You mumbled, not sure of what he wanted from you.

"It's  sad to see people sitting alone, I like to accompany them-" he  clarified, bringing his coffee up to his mouth as he stared out the  window to watch the people.

You opened your mouth but  closed it right away, not knowing what to say. It was a gentle move of  him and talking down to that would be no good, so you let it slide. You  had a cheeky smile plastered on your face as you looked out the window,  not wanting him to see your smile.

"Oh," your eyes widened  in confusion as the first raindrops fell on the window, "Isn't it too  soon to rain already?" you questioned, sighing. How will you be able to  walk in the rain without getting wet?

"Then, I will get   going first," you said, standing up. When you reach the building, you   had to make sure to get plenty of time to dry. You said your goodbye to Yunji as you stood in front of the entry, wondering how you will reach your destiny.

"Why did you make it rain now?" You looked  up at the sky, obviously talking to God in your sorrow. You didn't want  to get wet but still, you had to appear on time.

"Okay.  Close your eyes and run!" You mumbled to yourself. Just as you wanted to  shut your eyes, you saw an umbrella opening in front of you. You winced  since you were startled by the sudden move. Once you looked up, you saw  the man from earlier holding an umbrella above you.

"Where are you heading to? I will accompany you." He said, staring straight into your eyes. He sure was a head taller than you.

"Ah, Mister, you really don't have to do that-" he cut you off.

"You  will be soaked in water if you don't take the chance to reach your  destiny dryly." He had a huge grin on his lips as watched you biting  your lower lip.

"Iwishradio station." You swallowed hard  as you turned your head, embarrassed to look into his eyes since his  face was too close for your pleasure. He nodded as the two of you left  for your workplace.

"Are you working there?" He asked and you nodded.

"I'm a radio presenter of iwishradio." You added and his eyes lit up.

"Oh!  Are you perhaps Y/F/N?" Your name left his lips so casually and you  felt how your heart jumped at his excitement. You nodded.

"I  love your format. The interview, your topics, it's so entertaining and  nice to listen to your decent voice." He started praising your show and  you felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

"Thank you for listening..." you mumbled in a soft voice.

You  reached the building fast and you wondered if you were at your  workplace this fast as well or if it was the illusion of time passing  fast.

"Thank you for your company. In the shop and until here..." you bowed slightly.

He  pulled out his hand before you left, "Hoseok. Jung Hoseok." Your eyes  landed on his hand as you hesitantly reached out for it. His warm hands  surrounded yours, giving you a soft feeling of affection and warmth on  this cold day. His gently squeeze was giving you the feeling that this  wouldn't be your last encounter.

You looked out the window and observed the breathtaking view of Gwangju as the plane was making itself ready to land.

"After  that, we met often in the coffee shop and eventually we became  friends." You brought a cut to your beginning, shorting it down to more  than a half and changing it. Once he will remember you will make sure  that he will remember the genuine rest himself. Until then the rest of  your encounter must be kept a secret. After that greeting and after you  two exchanging names your story began, not as friends but as more.

"You must be a really good friend." You heard Hoseok mumbling. You turned your head to look at him in confusion.

"What?"

"I  mean..." his gaze dropped down on his fingers, "Thank you!" He declared,  looking up into your eyes, "Thank you for coming all the way to my  hometown only to help me to regain my memories. I must've been a lucky  person to have friends like you and Namjoon." He said with a note of  relief, a huge smile plastered on his face. You returned his smile,  holding yourself back from hugging him. Turning your head to the window,  you watched how the plane landed on its gate.

You left the airport after taking your luggage and waiting for a  taxi. Hoseok's family wanted you to stay in their old apartment together  with them. You insisted on renting a good and cheap place, but they  disapproved that's why you and Namjoon followed their taxi. While you  and Dawon would be sharing a room, Namjoon and Hoseok would share a room  together. How you wished to be in Namjoon's position.

Once you  settled down, you started unpacking your items. Dawon decided to take  Hoseok out so she could show him a little around. You cleaned your room  and helped Dawon with her luggage. At that moment, someone knocked  lightly on the door.

"Yes?" You called out, your eyes on the clothes which you were folding and putting into the wardrobe.

You  turned around as you heard the person falling on the mattress which was  lying on the ground. Namjoon took a deep breath as if he was relieved  to finish his room up.

"What's up?" you giggled, concentrating on your clothes.

"I  finished." You saw from the corner of your eye that he turned his body  into your direction while supporting his head with his hand. "So, what's  your plan?" He questioned. You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned  around.

"Plan? What plan?" You asked.

"The 'Make Hoseok Fall In Love With Me Again'-Plan" He pointed out, showing you the question marks with his fingers.

You bit your lip and put the last clothing into the wardrobe before turning around and sitting down in front of him.

"I actually have no idea." You remarked, groaning loudly as you let your back touch the wall behind you.

"You're a genius Y/N." He suggestively eyed you in a mocking way.

"I know right!" You replied with a huge mark of sarcasm. He sighed as he sat up straight to look into your eyes.

"How  about you spend some time with him? Alone. You and him?" It didn't feel  like a statement, more like a question which he wanted to get answered.

"I'm afraid-"you admitted.

"Of what?"

"I'm afraid to face the reality." You whispered, looking blankly into the emptiness.

"What  reality? Y/N, you have to face it, to find the reality!" He encouraged  and of course you knew that he was right. You were in a long and deep  relationship with Hoseok and you're afraid that he wouldn't remember  your past at all. You were afraid of him not loving you, but your  mission was to make him love you again and that's why you had to fight.  Fight for his love.

"You're right Namjoon! I really have to do it." You said and stood up.

"Where are you going?" He asked you as you chuckled.

"I'm hungry, you're coming with me?" He was a little startled but stood up and followed you.

After  finishing your meal, you waited for Hoseok and his sister to arrive  since it was pretty late already. Tomorrow would be your day, you  thought. The doorbell rang, and you ran up to the door, greeting the  siblings who entered the house with a grin plastered on their faces.

"You're late." Hoseok's mother stated, looking at the time.

"We  caught up with someone," Dawon said and sat down next to her mother.  Dawon's mother furrowed her eyebrows as she waited for Dawon to speak.

"Kim  Chaeyeong? Do you remember her?" She asked. Mrs. Jung narrowed her eyes  as she tried to come up with a picture of a face, fitting to the name.  Once she remembered, her eyes lit up.

"Kim Chaeyeong? Hoseok's high school friend?" She said with conviction and Dawon nodded.

"And  guess what?" She looked at Hoseok who approached his mother slowly,  "Hoseok remembered her!" She beamed as his mother stared at Hoseok, eyes  filling with tears. Never in her life would she believe that Hoseok  would start doing progress in such a small amount of time. She was proud  of him.

"I just remembered her as a person in my life, but I  really don't remember what we did in the past or any other memories with  her, to be honest," Hoseok admitted, turning around to look at Namjoon  and you with a smile. You were happy about his small progress but  couldn't help but feel a little unimportant and agonized at his first  memory which was way back when you met him. You never heard of that name  in your life, so you thought that she wasn't important at all. Hoseok  would've told you about her if they were still friends even today.

"Ah  Dawon, you're tiring my son. Let him rest a little, yeah?" She  playfully hit her daughter's shoulder as she grabbed Hoseok's hand,  squeezing it firmly.

"I'm tired, to be honest." He admitted, stretching his arms.

"Let's  sleep then. Tomorrow will be a better day!" Dawon clapped in her hands  as she ran up to you and grabbed your arm to guide you to your room.  Once she entered the room, her jaw dropped down.

"Ah, my  sister-in-law is such a gracious human being. I'm lucky!" She wrapped  her arms around you before she threw herself on the mattress.

The word sister-in-law was making your heart flutter. You still pulled your index-finger in front of your lips to shush her. "Shh, he will hear!" You whispered and laid down yourself. Dawon didn't even change her clothes nor did she remove her make-up. Indeed, she was tired, and you didn't want to make a feel even more tired. You jumped into your pajamas and stared at the ceiling.

"Dawon?" You voiced in a casual tone.

"Hm?" You noticed that she was already half asleep.

"Who is Chaeyeong?" You asked her as you heard her shifting.

"Just  an old high-school friend of Hoseok" She mumbled, her face facing the  pillow, swallowing the words which left her mouth, "Don't worry. They're  just frie-" she couldn't finish her sentence since she fell asleep,  snoring softly. You giggled as you stood up to grab yourself a glass of  water.

"Hoseok?" You asked, a little startled once you entered the kitchen. He was looking out for something in the fridge.

"Y/N? Why are you still awake?" He questioned, closing the fridge.

"I wanted to grab a glass of water." You smiled, going up to the small cupboard to get yourself a cup. "What about you?"

"I,  I was hungry." He scratched his neck a little flustered about his  answer. You chuckled slightly, remembering how he always went up to the  fridge to grab a late-night snack. You nipped on the glass of water.

"Should, should I prepare something for you?" You asked hesitantly but he shook his hands in front of you.

"No, I, I will do it myself-"He started but you cut him off.

"It's not like I prepare food for you the first time at this hour..." You accidentally spluttered.

"Excuse me?" He surely was confused about your words. Your eyes widened as you realized what you've just said.

"I,  I mean we're friends. Of course, I prepared meals for you, as well as  for Namjoon and other friends and family who mean a lot to me." You're such a fool Y/N.

He  chuckled, being really overwhelmed by your decent behavior. You turned  around as you grabbed some ingredients to cook for a single person. He  was quiet, and you made him some ramen which was the fastest and easiest  meal you could prepare, to leave immediately. As if you two were  strangers, you tried to make yourself feel easier and comfortable around  him without getting flustered at all.

"Thank you, Y/N!" He sat down, grabbing the chopsticks.

"Enjoy your meal!" You mumbled, smiling softly at him which he returned.

Before you left, you turned around again. "Hoseok?"

"Hm?"

"Can  you perhaps leave an empty space in your busy schedule-" You looked up  into his eyes –" For me?" Biting your lip, you waited for his answer. He  giggled softly.

"With pleasure." He breathed out, smiling widely at you.

"Thank you!" The huge grin on your face wasn't leaving as you went back into your room, lying down on the mattress.

Everything will be fine ...

The  next morning you woke up to Dawon, throwing her clothes from one side  to the other side of the room. Just as you wanted to sit up straight,  you were thrown by a cloth on your face. Wincing at the sudden darkness,  you sighed as you grabbed the cloth and threw it back to Dawon.

"What are you doing this early?" You rubbed your eyes after you looked at the time which showed 7am.

"The earlier one wakes up, the better the day gets." She pointed out as you stood up.

"Bullshit!  My day was never good when I woke up at 6am for school!" You clarified  and scratched your back, bending down a little. You narrowed your eyes,   trying to get used to the light which surrounded you as you fully   concentrated on the scratch on your back.

"Morning girls!" You   heard Hoseok's voice from behind you, making you jump from his sudden   appearance. You felt the heat rising and your cheeks redden. Normally,   you wouldn't think about it and start being your casual self next to him  but now, you two were only friends who try to build up their   relationship.

"M-Morning!" You greeted him, but he was already  gone. You heard soft laughter from behind you and turned around to Dawon  who was hiding her face from laughing too much.

"What's so funny?" You asked, stepping closer to her.

"Well, you two don't feel like a normal couple-"you cut her off, throwing your hands in the air.

"Well,  excuse me. My boyfriend lost his memory." She shook her head at your  statement and turned around to look for a nice outfit.

"Yah! The  yellow shirt in your hand is mine!" You called out before leaving the  room to take a warm shower and changing into some nice and comfy  clothes.

The breakfast table was surrounded by every family  member, enjoying their meal comfortably. You sat down next to Mrs. Jung  as you started eating. Nobody talked while eating, making the  comfortable enjoyment turn into an awkward atmosphere. Suddenly, the  doorbell rang. Just as you wanted to stand up, Hoseok held out his hand,  stopping you.

"It's probably Chaeyeong. She wanted to hang out with me-" He put the last bit in his mouth before leaving the table.

You  licked your lips as you pressed them together, watching his empty seat.  Your gaze went to Namjoon, noticing the confusion in his expressions.

That's  exactly how all the other days went by. It was either Hoseok spending  time with Chaeyong or Chaeyong with him. He was barely home and forgot  about his promise. Even though you asked him about the empty space, he  promised to spend time with you the next day. On the next day, he was  again busy with his high-school friend. If this was helping him to  regain his memory, then you didn't want to stop him. He was getting  happier and each day he remembered the old times in Gwangju and you  hoped for him to remember the past in Seoul, so you would appear again.  The woman he wanted to propose to.

One day you went into his room and leaned on the doorframe. He was texting on his phone, smiling widely at the screen.

"Hoseok?" You mumbled, approaching him slowly.

He looked up and lifted his eyebrows.

"Can  I take you away tomorrow?" You asked and waited for his answer. Little  did you know that he would cancel. Just as you wanted to turn around, he  chuckled.

"Sure thing!" Your eyes widened.

"Oh, ok!" you exclaimed and turned around.

Finally,  a day where the two of you could spend some time together. It wasn't as  if you two never talked to each other within these days. He was still  coming home, and you shared funny and joyful moments. Watching series  and dramas and even playing games with each other but not just the two  of you. It was always another family member of him who joined in. His  promise was an opportunity to let you two be alone.

You prepared a   picnic-date and told Namjoon to prepare beforehand. He woke up early   and went to the park to create a beautiful atmosphere while you picked   your outfit. Today was a nice weather and a warm day. That's why you   decided to wear a spring dress. Casual but cute and it was Hoseok's   favorite dress on you. A white dress with the purple pattern. He knocked  on your door and you turned around.

He stopped in astonishment,  staring at you as if he was thinking about something. You stood in front  of him, quietly, not trying to break his thoughts or the memories  connected with this dress. He furrowed his eyebrows and had a soft smile  plastered on his face. Just as you wanted to ask him what he thought  about, he shook his head.

"C'mon!" He exclaimed and turned around again.

You'll remember me Hoseok. You'll remember us!

He  took the bicycle and hopped on it. You sat behind him and hesitantly  wrapped your arms around his stomach. Slowly, you let your head lean on  his shoulder as you remembered the times the two of you bicycled  together. Sometimes he was picking you up with his bicycle from work and  the other days you were admiring the view. After telling him the  destination he drove off.

"So Hoseok, I hope you like picnicking!" You exclaimed from behind and heard a soft giggle from his lips.

"I  love that" he chuckled and from behind you saw the set picnic. To be  honest, if it weren't for the help of Namjoon then you wouldn't be able  to do that all.

You hopped off the bicycle and led him to the  small picnic-blanket, opening the casket and pulling out small meals  you've prepared. Actually, you didn't feel like eating at all, but you  just wanted his company. He let out a deep sigh as he let himself fall  on the blanket, lying down as he watched the sky.

"Such a  beautiful sight... at those time I really am thankful to be alive" he  mumbled and smiled as you watched him admiringly. You lied down, your  faces next to each other even though your bodies looked into opposite  directions. Indeed, it was so astonishing and beautiful.

"Look at  these birds, leaving their hometown and moving in a new direction to  start a new life, a new journey at their new place..." you mumbled,  examine the sky as you pointed at the birds which you were referring to.

"And  a new story..." Hoseok added and you turned your head to look at him, a  wide smile plastered on your face. "Like mine." Your smile dropped  faintly as you cleared your throat. His eyes weren't leaving the sky,  "After losing my memory, I am also moving in a new direction. I  sometimes wonder what my past was like. Was it better than what I have  now? Or did I lose something precious?" He chuckled, turning his head to  you, "And then, I laugh it off. What is lost, is not coming back. And  what I have, I don't want to lose."

He was looking deep into your soul and you were hoping that with the last part he meant you.

"Sometimes  the past doesn't return. What's left are our memories. And if there is  lying someone precious in your memories, then I'm sure they'll return to  your life." You assured him, hoping to give him a signal for a memory  in his past which both of you shared.

You two stood in the   position of only staring at each other until the grumbling of his   stomach broke the eye contact. The atmosphere filled with soft giggles   from you two and he stood up straight. He turned around to look at you   as a chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

"I guess it's time to eat."

[karlajoyner]

Worst Enemy (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Sorry this took so long! I just wasn't sure how I wanted to go about this request since I haven’t read that much smut lately to be fully inspired. I read a lot of 5 seconds of summer smut to say the least. Calum Hood smut to be exact and my fingers couldn’t stop typing after that.😂 But I hope you guys like it! Please let me know if you do! Don't read it if you just want a normal imagine. Some normal ones coming soon. Also I have an upcoming announcement after I hit 150 followers!

Requested by: irwindshield (Wattpad)

Warnings: Super Smutty (18+)

————

"And action!" Kenny shouted.

I scowled at the boy in front of me who looked just as mad as I was.

"Seriously Luke your gonna tell me that you and Julie don't have anything going on"

"Y/c/n I already told you we don't! Isn't that enough?!" Charlie spoke standing up from his seat on the couch.

"No it's not. Not when you spent all weekend writing love songs together"

"It was one song and it wasn't about each other"

"One song still means something"

"Why does it even matter to you I'm single now? Isn't that what you wanted? To be free well now you're free to be with whoever you want or did you forget what happened with Reggie?"

"Nothing happened with Reggie. We were joking around. It's not my fault your jealous!" I shouted in frustration.

"Look who's talking" He said getting up in my face. Both our chests heaving in anger as we stared at each other angrily.

"You know what Patterson even when we're both dead I still regret ever falling in love with you all those years ago" I spoke through gritted teeth. I turned around dramatically to walk away, only to have Charlie grab me by the wrist and spin me around. Our faces now inches apart.

In aggravation he crash his lips onto mine shoving his tongue into my mouth. I huffed wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. We both fought for dominance as his hands found their way around my waist lifting me up in the air.

I got so caught up in the heated make out session I almost didn't hear Kenny yell for the end of the scene.

"Cut!" He shouted Charlie immediately letting me go. I scoffed pushing myself away from him to see his hair disheveled, his lips plump, and smeared with my red lipstick. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I wanted to finish what we started now. But I couldn't do that when the insanely hot actor I wanted to push me up against the wall also happened to be my worst enemy.

"That was great guys!" Kenny said walking towards us.

"We might reshoot tomorrow if we have time since this is a kids show and that was a little too not kid friendly. Maybe hold back on the tongue"

"You got it Kenny"

"It's already late enough thank you two for staying back tonight we really had to get this in. Have a good night!"

"It was no problem. See you tomorrow" I smiled at our director as he walked away. I turned back to the boy beside me glaring at him.

"Well that was shitty. He's right you use way too much tongue. It was like Niagara Falls" I spoke using hand gestures. I watched the brunette roll his eyes in annoyance making me grin. Turning back around I began to walk back towards my trailer deciding to just turn in my costume tomorrow. Like I had done so many times after shooting until the am.

"You know I've had plenty of people who think my kissing is amazing" Charlie spoke walking a few feet away from me seeing as his trailer was right beside mine. Unfortunate perks of playing love interest who broke up in the show.

"I hate to break it to you Charles but they lied"

"Shut up. I'm done with your shit for the day"

"You know if there's one thing I hate more than having to shoot a scene so late it's having to shoot it with you Gillespie"

"Yeah well it's no fun for me either. I mean having to make out with a fucking jerk and act like I'm in love with her. Isn't exactly the highlight of my year!" He whispered shouted making sure no one heard us. It was late and the very few people who stayed in their trailers were probably dead asleep due to how long filming went on today.

"Not for me either! Why do you hate me so much? I swear I tried to be fucking nice to you when we met"

"Please you were anything but nice" He argued making me facepalm.

"You fucking liar! I introduced myself. I stuck my hand out for you to shake and you completely denied it. If anything you're the prick and the asshole!" I shouted reaching the outskirts of my trailer.

Suddenly I felt my body collide with the cold vehicle behind me and a cold hand landing on my mouth. My eyes widened looking up at the man in front of me who's chest was heaving.

"You wanna say that to my face y/l/n" He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Look we both promised that we'd keep this little feud between us a secret for the sake of the show and our cast mates. So if you don't shut that big mouth of yours we might just get caught" He whispered making me roll my eyes.

Finally coming back to my senses I removed his hand from my mouth, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You fucking prick" I repeated myself seeing what he would say next. But he didn't say anything. Not a word.

I watched his face closely as his eyes flickered to my lips. He slowly leaned forward hesitant on his actions. Rolling my eyes I took initiative, smashing my lips onto his. I let out a breath as he lifted my leg up to pull me closer. Nearly letting a moan escape as I felt his hard on press against the front of my jeans.

"Can't even fucking make the first move. How fucking dry your sex life must be" I panted teasingly as we pulled away.

"Shut the fuck up" He whispered pressing his lips to mine once more with such a force. I immediately kissed back realization hitting me. We were in the middle of a parking lot filled with trailers.

I pushed him away taking his hand leading him to my trailer that wasn't too far. He complied following closely behind. Pressing his body into mine as I unlocked the door as quick as possible. I stepped into the trailer switching on the dim light. I bit my lip turning around to finally face Charlie who stood there with his beautiful blue eyes darkened with lust.

"Are we really gonna do this?" I asked leaning on the counter in the small kitchen area.

"I don't know. I-I mean we don't have to if you don't want to. We could just leave it here if that's w-what you want"

"Well what do you want?" I asked raising an eyebrow. I watched as his body shifted uncomfortably as I removed the jean jacket on my body leaving me in a silky satin cami.

"I really wanna fuck you" He responded biting his lip. My stomach filling with butterflies getting the response I was hoping for.

"Then do it" I stated watching as he made his way towards me. Crashing his lips onto mine. I let out a huff as he lifted me off the ground and pushed me onto the counter roughly. My back hitting the wood behind me forcefully.

"Seriously?" I panted pulled away from the kiss first.

"Sorry" He muttered sheepishly before diving into my neck. Finding a spot to suck on. I craned my neck allowing him more access not even caring that I'd have to deal with the makeup team tomorrow.

Before giving it a second thought I pulled off my top tossing it across the room leaving me in a teal Lacey bra. The same color of the cami I was wearing.

"Holy fuck" Charlie whispered most blankly admiring the view. I let out a giggle tugging at his shirt as well signaling I wanted it off. He quickly got the message.

It was my turn to drool seeing his tightly toned abs turning me on even more than I already was. I was knocked out of my trance by Charlie kissing me passionately once more. My eyes fluttering shut, pulling the hairs on his neck. Our tongues now fighting for dominance.

His hands moved away from my waist to my back. Unhooking my bra from my body. We shifted slightly, the material being flung across the room. Within seconds his hands roamed my body freely once more. A groan escaping my mouth as his lips moved down my neck.

Until eventually settling on my nipple. My core was now throbbing in anticipation of his next moves.

I bit my lip trying to keep quiet but at the rate his hands were moving it was nearly impossible. I watched as he moved down my body. Undoing my jeans quickly.

I whimpered as Charlie spread my legs apart. Toying with the thin fabric of the panties I was wearing. Feeling myself getting wetter by the second I grasped onto his hair. "Fuck Charlie please" I whined as he began to place kisses up my thighs. Each one a little longer than the last.

"Please what?"

"Don't make me fucking ask again Gillespie. I don't beg" I spoke pulling him harder from his hair. Forcing him to look up at me.

He growled at my actions ripping apart the fabric and tossing it off to the side.

My back arched feeling his slender fingers enter me. A loud moan escaping my lips as he skillfully pumped his fingers in and out of my entrance.

I bit my lip tightly opening my legs wider to give him better access. Only to feel the feeling of pleasure leave my body.

"What the fu-" My words were cut off by Charlie grabbing me by the thighs. Pulling me closer to the edge of the counter.

"Holy shit" I moaned as he dipped his head between my legs to attach himself to my now sensitive cunt. Sucking on it harshly with no hesitation. His tongue moved around so effortlessly. I threw my head back as my fingers entangled into his hair wanting to feel him now more than ever.

"So fucking good" He groaned pulling away to add two fingers. Doubling the satisfaction. My lips parting to slightly as my eyes screwed shut.

"Charlie I'm s-so close" I muttered feeling his fingers spread up. Within seconds he sent me over the edge. Pleasure coursing through my body. I panted loudly attempting to steady my breathing. Watching as Charlie stood up. Lifting his glistening fingers up to his lips sucking off every last drop of cum that coated them. I let out another moan at the sight feeing myself getting turned on again.

"You okay?" He asked raising an eyebrow at me. I giggled seeing his already plump lips swollen.

"Perfectly fine Charles" I spoke wiping off my juices running down his chin with a towel nearby.

"A thousand times better now actually"

"I'm glad to hear you say that baby. Cause I'm not done with you" He whispered holding me firmly by the waist.

"Oh really?" I asked raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"Well unless you wanna wait until tomorrow after our first date"

"First date? Are you asking me out?"

"So what if I am? You got a problem with it y/l/n?"

"Nope. No problem here. Well except for the fact that I'm all dirty and sweaty" I said running my fingers through his messy hair.

"Well that just won't do for my princess will it? Round 2 in the shower?" He questioned making me laugh.

"If you think you can make me cum again then yes" I laughed pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"Oh I know I can" He mumbled into my lips before lifting me off the counter. I giggled as he walked to the bathroom in the back of the trailer. The small confined space making me realize just how hot he actually was. It was. I balanced myself as he put me down to turn on the water. I began to set it at a warm temperature, Listening as Charlie stripped himself of the rest of his clothes from behind me.

"Your so beautiful" Charlie whispered wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

"Mmm you weren't saying that last week"

"I wasn't saying it but I was thinking it" He spoke as I felt something poking me from behind.

"You think about me?" I asked turning around to face him.

"A lot" He responded as I walked backwards. The warm water hitting me from above for a split second before my back hit the cold wall.

"Good" I responded as he pinned me up against the wall.

I huffed as his large hands grabbed me from behind my thighs. Wrapping my legs around his waist. Our make out session getting more heated by the second. Pulling him closer wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of me.

He was quick to line himself up to my entrance. Entering me slowly.

"C-can I move?" He asked after a moment. I nodded thankful he let me adjust to his size.

Within seconds we both were a wreck as he pounded into me. A string of curse words leaving our lips as the warm water fell over us.

I moaned as he hit my g-spot. My legs becoming weaker the faster he moved. I felt familiar knot forming at the pit of my stomach as he let out a noise of disgruntlement.

"Fuck baby I'm almost there"

I nodded along. Not daring to attempt to form any words. Both of us reaching our climax one after the other.

"We should do this again sometime. You know after our date" He grinned placing me down gently.

"I agree" I spoke moving under the water. I sighed contently as his arms wrapped around me from behind. His lips grazing my skin as he place chaste kisses upon it. A small smile forming on my face.

As much as this was the end of our little feud it also a new beginning to a new relationship.

————

Up Next: Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Sacha Carlson x Reader

Booboo Stewart x Reader

Send in your requests!

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.6)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Sidenote: I’ve been hooked on this song and feel like it fits the vibe for this chapter but it is optional to listen to...enjoy!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, smoking, freaky thangs..

Erik glanced at the digital clock in his car. It was almost four in the morning. The job was done and with the help of Cane they were able to get out of there in one piece. Shaking his head he laughed to himself. He still couldn’t believe it when he saw Alexis with Shawn.

It wasn’t hard to believe but it did fuck him up a bit. In reality Erik didn’t know why he was surprised. After getting to know about Alexis he knew she was always chasing the next bag. Even if it meant coming up off of another nigga.

Out of the nine months they messed around she was always the one pressing him to take their relationship to the next step. She was the one that tried to tie their names together in the streets. It was always her putting forth the effort. Then it was shit like what he saw tonight that had cause Erik to have trust issues.

But was that something he could even judge her for? Of course not. He didn’t put a title on her and vice versa. All this did was make him come to the realization that she was never down for him. Only what he could do for her.

With all of these ideas going through his head the last thing Erik wanted to do was be alone. His mind was filling up with negative thoughts. Mainly about how the situation could’ve went bad if he would have acted on his feelings. Erik’s mood switched and he wanted to see the one person who he knew could change that.

Hoping she picked up,Erik sat nervously as the other end of the phone began to ring. If she didn’t answer he would have no other choice but to drown himself in a few blunts and a fifth of Hennessy.

She answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello.” Her soft voice came through the speaker. It sounded like she was wide awake.

He relaxed in his seat feeling a relief. “What you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. What about you? Everything okay?”

Erik could hear the worry in her tone. He half smiled. That was something she always did, she cared about him.

“Yeah I’m good.” He paused. “Listen I know this might be a stretch but do you think you could sneak out pass your brother and come meet me. I know it sounds-“ Erik was rambling. Something he never did.

Amiyah cut him off with a light giggle. “Erik I could meet up with you. I’m not at my apartment I’m staying with a friend.”

Erik’s brows drew together with a slight look of confusion. It was four in the morning and she wasn’t home. That was the first Erik ever heard of knowing how his friend is about his sister. But he didn’t ponder over the thought.

“Okay well send me the address and I’ll pull up.” He put her on speaker waiting for her to reply as he pulled up the gps on his phone.

“65 Lafayette Ave.” Amiyah answered with a controlled smile. Not wanting to seem eager to see him.

It was a fifteen minute drive from where Erik was.

“Alright I’ll call you when I’m there.”

“Okay, see you Erik.”

“Aight mamas.”

Amiyah jumped off the couch and crept to her friends bathroom. Turning on the light she saw her appearance and immediately cringed. Her eyes were still red and puffy from her tears. Face covered in faint runny eye liner. Her hair was fuzzy and wild. She was in no condition to go see Erik the way she looked.

Grabbing a face cloth from her friends cabinet she ran it under warm water before sitting it on her face and letting it rest against her skin. Amiyah sighed at the sensation. Wiping her face she made sure she got every inch of coverage before she checked other areas of her body to make sure she smelled fresh.

She gave her hair a few pass overs with a brush to make it at least somewhat presentable. Glancing over herself in the mirror she felt satisfied and exited the bathroom. Going back to the couch she was crashing on she put on a white tank top and paired it with a pair of grey sweats. Throwing a jean jacket on she slipped on her UGG slippers and waited silently.

When her phone rung this early in the morning she thought it would be her brother calling to apologize but instead it was Erik. She knew for sure it was her mind playing tricks on her but when she answered and heard his voice butterflies filled her stomach. After the date Amiyah figured she had to wait until she seen him in person again to make contact with him but when he called asking her to hangout this later she couldn’t decline.

It wasn’t too long before her phone lit up with a text notification. Erik was letting her know that he was waiting for her outside. Getting up and checking her face one last time by the mirror Kelley had next to the front door she flipped her hair over her shoulder and snuck out the front door. When she got on the porch she seen his Infinity waiting in the middle of the street unbothered with any traffic coming through.

She watched as he got out but stayed by his vehicle. Doing a quick glance over at his face Amiyah noticed the stress in his eyes. It was as if they were filled with the emotion of hurt. No wonder he called asking to see her this late. He needed comfort. Walking up to him she went straight for a hug. The way he taught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he did her waist.

Amiyah felt him breathe out an air of ease. His body slouching over on hers and she would let him as long as he wanted just to take away his troubles. She closed her eyes as they quietly embraced each other’s body. It was a comfortable silence. From the way they held on to each other it was obvious that they very much missed one another.

“Why you so good to me ma?” Erik whispered in her ear not letting her out of his hold yet.

Speaking truthfully in their current position of vulnerability she replied. “Because I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

Erik closed his eyes hearing the words escape from her mouth. She was making it hard for him to keep up with his ‘not trusting women’ demeanor. The way she was holding onto his body had him rethinking himself. Her nails grazing lightly on the back of his neck was driving him insane. She knew all the right things to say and do to him without even trying.

Amiyah had him open whenever they were together and she didn’t even know it. Erik finally released her body. Now staring down at her soft round face he couldn’t help himself. Dragging his hands over her love handles he pulled her towards him as bent down giving her two pecks on her lips softly. Her arms still wrapped around his neck. When Erik pulled away he seen that her eyes were still shut. Biting his bottom lip he went back in giving her a full kiss this time with a slight pull on her lower lip every now and then.

Feeling himself in the moment his hands traveled resting above her ass. Not wanting to disrespect her he asked in between indulging in her lips and taking breaks to get air for her permission.

“Can..I..touch..it?” His voice spoke lowly between pecks.

Amiyah nodded while she brought her left hand down to his cheek. She was getting better since their last kiss and her body was becoming more comfortable with his.

Seeing that she didn’t deny him access his hands continued their adventure further south. When his hands finally reached the bottom of her soft flesh he cuffed and squeezed each cheek firmly before caressing it to soothe the slight pain he may have caused.

Amiyah moaned in his mouth from the feeling. It was the first time she was ever been touched like that by a man down there. His hands felt rough but soft at the same time. The way he would grip each ass cheek and pulling on them she felt her second pair of lips separate from the action. But it was the way he rubbed it after he squeezed them that made her drip with anticipation.

Pulling away from each other they were able to get some air. By this time Erik was ready to devour her and make her body shake beneath his but he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. She wouldn’t know how to act or what to do if he gave her what his body was craving to do to her. Feeling his dick on semi-hard he shifted himself. All of this just from kissing and touching on her. Erik wanted her bad.

“Let’s go get out of here?” His voice broke the sexual tension.

Timid and nervously looking back at her friends house she turned to face him.” To go where?”

Erik shrugged his shoulders.” I don’t know I’ll find something. Just ride with me.” He spoke before he could think finding himself doing something he thought he would never do.” Please.” He begged.

Biting her lip to hold back her smile she nodded as her hands fell from around his neck but not before getting a feel of his sturdy hard abs through his shirt. Erik felt the slick action and smirked.

“Aight let’s go.” He kissed her one last time and then patted her butt and walked her to the passenger side. He opened her door and watched as she got in safely.

Inside the car they rode around with nothing but Erik’s playlist playing lowly in the background. Amiyah’s hand rested in his right hand as his left hand gripped the steering wheel driving. Every other minute Erik would bring the back of her hand up his lips and kiss it while still paying attention to the road. No matter how many times he done it Amiyah would blush every single time. If she was lighter you would definitely see the redness in her face.

It was about twenty minutes later when Erik found a secluded area underneath the highway bridge . Around them was nothing but empty parked construction trucks and signs to let people know that work was getting done. Nearby that was a small basketball court where some of the city kids would play on. Then there was the lights from the bridge above that gave them somewhat of a illumination in the car.

Shutting the car off Erik leaned his seat back with his electric lever before resting against it. His fingers still intertwined with Amiyah’s. He watched as she did everything but look in his direction. Erik could read her body language and see that she was nervous. His thumb stroke the back of her hand to give her some reassurance.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah. I’m good.” She gazed down in her lap before making eye contact.

Amiyah was nervous. How could she not be with her being in a closed off area with a man as fine as Erik sitting next to her holding her hand. He was touching her so tenderly. Her body reacted to each stroke of his fingers.

“Miyah if you not comfortable don’t ever hesitate to tell me. I care more about your security in your safety than me wanting to chill with you.” His unselfish nature was revealing itself with every word.

She smiled at his kindness. “I feel safe with you. It’s just some times you make me nervous.” She replied picking at the imaginary cotton lint on her sweats.

His lips curled into a smile. “Why I make you nervous?” He asked as his free hand swiped down his waves repeatedly.

Rolling her eyes Amiyah knew this question was coming next. He knew exactly how he made her nervous. The evidence clear in how her body react to him.

“I don’t know maybe it’s the way you look at me.”

There was something about being alone in this car with him that made Amiyah real honest.

His eyes danced up and down her body. Amiyah caught the gesture.

Smacking her lips. “See it’s you doing stuff like that.” She blurted out with a straight face.

He gripped her hand lightly when she made him laugh. To Erik most of the women he been with in the past was either too serious or boring but with Amiyah she was always able to get a smile out of him. From any tiny thing she did naturally it made him laugh or at least get him to smile.

“I mean I could think of something that might have you relaxed a little bit but I’m not sure you even mess with that type of shit.”

She looked at him confused.” What you mean?”

“You smoke?” He asked bluntly.

She laughed. “I’ve done it a few times when Durk wasn’t around but I’m no pro.”

Erik nodded his head head releasing her hand as he went to his middle compartment pulling out his stash. He needed a blunt after today and the one that he already had rolled up wasn’t going to do him enough justice. Taking out the one that was pre-rolled he handed it to her.

“Hold that.”

She grabbed it bringing it to her nose smell the rolled plant. Amiyah liked the way this weed smell. It wasn’t overpowering like the one Durk usually had. She observed the blunt giggling about how fat it was.

“Why is it so big?” She asked laughing.

“What the blunt or something else?” His lips smirked.

Amiyah figured she walked herself into that one. She rolled her eyes.

“No I’m just messing with you that’s just how I like mine. Can’t be fucking with no skimpy blunts now.” He smiled. Over in his seat he was rolling up two more.

After getting them rolled he grabbed his lighter from his cup holder and sparked it up. Taking a deep pull with his lips he allowed the smoke to invade his lungs for five slow seconds before exhaling. His body leaned back becoming relaxed.

Amiyah watched as he took another. He looked so good right now in his most laidback state. One hand behind his head and the other holding the blunt to his lips. She bit her lip as the smoke filled up the car. She was already feeling a contact high.

He handed over the lit blunt and watch her grasp it with the end of her nails. Erik smiled as he sat quietly watching her switch the blunt between both hands trying to get comfortable with it.

“Don’t burn my weed out.” He joked.

“Shut up Erik.” Amiyah giggled taking her first hit.

Coughing she realized she hit it too hard. Turning towards her window her balled up fist went up to her mouth as she coughed her lungs out before smacking on her chest. She handed the blunt back to Erik who was laughing.

“You good?”

She shook her head and cough one last time. Her eyes watering a bit from all of the straining.

“Damn I should’ve warned you first. My bad baby.” His hand went to her back and rubbed it.

Amiyah was already feeling high. If it wasn’t from the huge hit she took than it definitely had to be from the gas that filled the car. Her baby lungs not used to the intoxicating aroma easily gave in. She expected that to happen but she didn’t expect for her pussy to become wet. The last few times she smoked alone it just gave her a quick high and the munchies. This was different. She could feel her pussy drip and become sticky as she squirmed around in her seat trying to hide it.

The blunt found its way back to Erik’s lips. His eyes began to get lower with every hit that he took from it. He wasn’t his highest but he felt his body getting comfortable. His leg slightly rocking from side to side. He watched her body respond to the weed. She was already gone and he knew it. Erik seen her squirm in the seat and watch her thighs clenched together.

“This shit make you wanna fuck, don’t it?” No longer responsible for the words coming out of his mouth he let the burning ashes fall into the ashtray. He started up the second blunt.

Amiyah surprised from his statement but turned on at the same time giggled as her boldness level went up the more intoxicated she became.

“Something like that.” She stared in his low eyes with hers.

She was becoming brave. Her mouth was definitely trying to write a check she couldn’t cash. Even though she never had sex before Amiyah still knew what it felt like to be horny. Her body was craving for him touch her and hold her the way he did a while ago when they were outside. Amiyah wanted his big hands rubbing on her booty the way they did before.

Erik sucked in his bottom lip. His deep dimples showed from the action. She was testing him. Erik was definitely pressed from the way she was looking at him. He knew that there was no way he could fuck her in his car. But he wanted to badly. He wanted to have her dripping cum right on his leather seats. He wanted to watch her tremble and moan as he stretched her tight pussy out pinning her down by her thick thighs giving her what she thought she could handle. Erik longed to dig deep in the pussy as he hit the spots that’ll make her cry and gave her no choice but to come back to him every time she desired for them to be touched.

Taking a pull from the second blunt he returned the gaze. The smoke leaving his lips going into the direction of her face. He watched her bite her lip.

“You lookin like you wanna do something now.” He had to start applying some pressure to put her back in her place.

Shyly looking out the windshield Amiyah laughed. The weed was making her extra giggly for no reason. But she couldn’t deny that how she was feeling was from her own lust as well. She felt a warm hand grab her by the chin turning her head back in her previous direction. Erik was looking at her waiting for to respond.

“Maybe I do.” She replied with her eyes shifting down to the bulge in his black joggers she noticed a while ago. She was no longer playing it safe.

Erik’s hooded eyes followed hers. He smirked. The hand that was holding her chin swiftly went to her throat. He massaged the flesh delicately. He couldn’t help it, grabbing a woman’s neck became a kink of his not to long ago. The way that they would instantly get wet and go into submissive mode turned him on and Erik could easily tell that she was one of those that got turned on by it as well.

Amiyah felt her pussy throbbing. His hand around her like that made her panties moist. She loved it most when he gripped giving her a light squeeze. Her nipples hardening poking through her shirt as she moaned.

“Get in the backseat then.” He released her.

Her eyes gave a quick glance towards the back before looking at him.

“Now?” She breathed out heavily.

“You scared mama?” He teased her softly.

Sending him a ‘yeah right’ look she climbed to the back. Taking off her jean jacket she sat it in the front before she folded her arms resting her back against the chair.

Erik watched through the rear view mirror. He was actually surprised that she had the courage to go back there. Taking the last blunt and lighter he got out the car and opened the back door slipping inside. Putting the objects in his hand in the pouch behind the driver seat he took off his hoodie revealing a black wifebeater shirt.

Amiyah sitting on the opposite side calmed her nerves. She mentally thank God that she shaved down there two nights before. She did not want the first time she allowed a man to see her down there to be met with a bush. There was nothing wrong with having hair but she would have been insecure about it.

After getting settled Erik turned his body sideways. He reached behind him locking the door as he leaned against it.

“C’mere.”

Nervous but eager Amiyah shimmied her way to his side. His hands helping her out guiding her to sit down on his lap facing him. He gripped on her thigh throwing it over his legs so she can straddling him and had the other hanging off the seat. Not wanting to put all of her weight on him Amiyah put the pressure on her legs.

Erik sensed this. He opened her legs wider which caused her to sit on him fully. An inward growl went through his lips as he felt the weight from her ass sitting on his heavy member.

“Erik I’m too heavy.” She complained.

“You think I’m worried about that?” His voice dripping with lust as he attacked her neck.

Erik’s hands went to groping her body. He kissed and sucked until he discovered the spot that made her body shudder. It was under her jaw line. He stayed there sucking on the area leaving a mark not giving a damn about her brother being able to see it later.

Amiyah’s wide hips wiggle around on top of him as she threw her head back giving him better access. Hormones going out of control she couldn’t stop her hands from traveling to his print as she gripped it firmly.

Erik’s body jumped as he grabbed her hand taking it off his dick. He pulled his lips from her neck to observe her. The way she tried to put her hand back on him she looked anxious for some way to release the sexual adrenaline taking over her body. Erik chuckled as he held her wrists strongly.

“Damn baby you can’t be gripping my dick like you tryna snatch that shit off my body.” His voice now raspy from the smoke session.

Embarrassed, Amiyah bent her head down hiding it in his neck. Of course she would grip him too hard. She didn’t know what she was doing. Trying to not seem like the amateur she was ended up having her looking stupid. The moment was ruined.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“Here I got an idea. Turn around.” He rubbed her back waiting on her to move.

Following his command she changed her body to go the other way. She was now sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. Thankfully his seats were big enough to hold the both of them comfortably in that position.

Amiyah felt his fingers tug at the hem of her sweats. Questionably glancing at him she wondered what he was about to do to her next.

“You trust me?” Erik asked with his face next to hers.

“Yeah.”

“Then lift up and take these off.” He tugged again.

Hesitant Amiyah allowed him to pull the clothing down with her help kicking them off her ankles. Now she was exposed. In nothing but her tank top and black cotton hipster panties she felt the air brush over her thighs. Feeling her high start to come down she requested to start a new rotation.

“Can we light the last one?”

“It’s in there.” Erik pointed to the pouch where he put the lighter and the blunt in.

Reaching inside she felt around before she retrieved it. As she lit the blunt she felt Erik kiss on her neck and rub on her thighs. His full lips making her moan and rest her body on his. Taking a hit from the weed with ease this time she was able to inhale it much smoother. Her lungs filled up as it brought her back to cloud nine.

“Here you go.” She passed it to him but he didn’t take it with his hands. Erik leaned forward and let her place it in his mouth. Holding it for him as he took a few pulls she studied the way he did it and then proceeded to copy him when it was her turn. The rotation went like that before it was finished.

Erik fondled her thick thighs. Starting on the outside and working his way to the inner where her warmth resided. She laid her hands on top of his to have some sort of control but Erik didn’t like that. He knew what he was doing and didn’t need any help.

“Move ya hand.” His voice barked.

Her hands left as quickly as they met his.

“Don’t touch anything unless I tell you to. You hear me?”

“Okay.” Shakiness in her voice as her breathing picked up.

“Okay what?” He gripped underneath her knees pulling her thighs apart roughly.

“Okay Erik.”

“Un uh. It’s daddy when it’s just me and you from now on.” His lips tickled her ears as he spoke giving her future reference.

“Kay, daddy.” She moaned.

Amiyah closed her eyes. Her body kept squirming around. She was waiting and anticipated on getting her body played with. When her legs opened she felt the cool air reach her damp underwear.

Looking down between her legs he bit his lip seeing her phat pussy showing through her panties. The lower lips spilling out on the sides as the damp wet stain sat from her natural essence. His hands gripped and rubbed the inner thigh area that was closest to her treasure as he asked for her permission once again.

“Can daddy play in this pussy?”

Her wet lips parted. Amiyah nodded her head that was leaning back in his shoulder. Yearning his touch and super horny out of her mind she’d allow him to do whatever he wanted to her.

“Yes daddy.” Her voice was as soft as angel.

Hearing her words of confirmation Erik’s hand introduced itself to her pussy for the first time. He cupped the area. Her covered mound was giving off a heat that let him know that she was ready. His fingers grazed up and down the thick slit which caused her body to jerk. He did this repeatedly to make her aroused.

“Phat ass pussy.” We’re the only words that escaped his lips as it left him mesmerized. She was the first female he been with that had one so full and healthy. It felt amazing on his hand even if he wasn’t touching it quite yet.

Pulling the black piece of cloth to the side Erik revealed her vulva that was covered in her natural juices. Taking his fingers he used her lubricant swiping up and down the slit feeling her body tense up.

“Relax mama.” He kissed behind her ear as he held her in place with his left arm.

Bringing his other arm around her he reached down spreading the thick lips as a clear string of liquid appeared when the flesh pulled apart. This was a different type of wetness he was experiencing at the moment. Taking the pad of his middle finger of his free hand he patted on the bud that was now hardened.

Amiyah’s hips jerk from the sensation. Her hand clutched his forearm to stop him, keeping the foreign feeling from over taking her body. Her legs moving around as she scooted into his chest.

“Don’t you play with this pussy when you alone?” He asked as his finger tips teased the areas around her clit.

“Yes.” Eyes still closed with her hands gripping his arms as she felt every stroke of his hand.

“Yes, what?” He corrected her.

Sucking in her bottom lip. “Yes, daddy.”

“Then let me have a turn.” One of his hands grasped her fupa affectionately pulling her body into his to make her relax.

Whe she laid back Erik was able to get a better view. He spread the lips open once more. Massaging her clit lightly in a circular motion with his pointy and middle fingers. He watch her thrust her hips on his hand to feel more. Keeping up with his movements he pressed down firmly stimulating the bud before he let a finger enter her tight wet opening. Giving a low groan he drew in his top lip when he felt her grip him him from the intrusion. The pussy was too tight.

“Damn you ain’t been letting nobody up in this huh?” He cooed in her ear pushing further with a single finger going deeper.

“Unh Uh.” Amiyah whimpered out snapping her thighs closed when she felt him slip inside her.

He took the hand that wasn’t trapped between her legs and opened them. Bringing it up to her chin he made her look him in the eye. “Ima go slow..ight.”

Amiyah nervously agreed. There was plenty of times where she masturbated but she never fingered herself only clitorial stimulation. So when she felt Erik push his finger inside her, her body reacted by closing her legs. It was strange feeling but it made her wetter.

Erik didn’t waste no time as he warmed her up by playing with her clit. He wanted to make sure she was as wet as possible before she experienced any penetration so he continued to rub her there. Bringing his fingers up to her breast he flicked her nipples with his thumb through her tank top to help her climax.

The combination had Amiyah’s chest heaving up and down. She was close and ready to cum. The pressure he applied on her clit felt so good. Her hand reached for the seat clawing the material as she let him make her body come undone. Her mouth opened as her pants and whimpers became audible.

“Daddyy...I’m cumin.” She whimpered softly backing away from the stimulation.

Erik followed not letting up on her. “Lemme see you cum then. Pretty ass.” He kissed her blocking out her moans.

Amiyah’s body shook as she felt his lips. She came right there. Essence dripping down on the seat in front of her. It was like a domino effect. He controlled her body. Her clit was now sensitive but Erik continued to knead the button. Whenever she played with herself she able to get one and that’s it. She never tried to do more than that but Erik was pushing her for another.

“I want another one and then I’m done.”

His eyes were still red and low from the weed. When she came on his fingers Erik was captivated from the sight. The way her lips parted. How she grasped onto the seats searching for something to hold on to. It made his body heat up with excitement knowing that he did that. Every little thing he observed had him becoming fascinated with her.

This time he wanted to make her cum a different way. His middle finger danced around her hole making sure it was coated from her wetness before he pushed inside her tight puss. Erik felt her clench on his finger as he gently massaged her walls. Every time he would pull out she would suck him back in. He watched her face contort no longer able to control herself.

“Mm this shit tight.” He groaned affirmations in her ear as his finger stroked her at a steady pace.

When the words left his mouth Amiyah glanced down to witness his assault on her pussy. Her body was aching for more. The in and out motion with just a single digit wasn’t enough. Her pussy wanted to be stretched.

“More.” She pleaded spreading her legs wider.

“You sure?” Erik asked wanting her to be certain.

“Yess.” Amiyah stuttered.

Drawing his fingers up to lips he opened his mouth tasting her sweet juices. Erik bit his lip feeling a strong urge to bend her over and eat her from behind. But right now it was about her. He had her body feeling good and he wanted to keep it that way.

After getting his fingers soaked he placed them back in front of her pussy. Taking his time he slowly thrusted both his middle and ring finger in stretching her creamy hole.She was so wet a sloshing sound came from her opening. Her jaw dropped as he filled her up. His thick fingers moving in and out. When he felt the spongy area at the top he swiped back and forth against it using the ‘ come here’ motion.

Her hips doing the same as before began to scoot back away from the sensation. Erik holding her by her waist kept her still.

“Stop runnin and put that pussy on me.” Lips sucking on her neck creating another passion mark as his deep voice muttered.

She was running. From the minute Amiyah felt him tapping on that spot that she didn’t know was there she wanted to escape his hold. His strong hand kept her spread eagle by her knee making her take the pleasure he was giving to her. Feeling her legs shake from his repeated tender abuse she grabbed his hand. Her belly began to tighten and cramp. Soon the vibrations she felt on her lower half traveled throughout her whole body. She was convulsing on his fingers.

“Fuckk.” The profanity spewed out her mouth for the first time as she squirted on the seat.

Erik continued attacking her g-spot before she aggressively pushed his hand away. Laughing he saw her shaking her head while her hands went to her thighs to try and stop them from trembling. Her breast moving up and down from her rough breathing as she finally spoke.

“No more.” Her voice quivered.

Erik’s low chuckled filled the vehicle . “You done mama?”

Quickly nodded her head she cover her pussy with her panties and moved to the other side of the car. She was sensitive and overstimulated. Her body couldn’t endure anymore.

“I can’t Erik. It’s too much.” Sitting on her knees she slapped her hand on her thighs that were still shaking.

“Ight fine I’m done. But come give me a kiss.” His lips smirk satisfied with how the night was ending.

Amiyah complied with his orders. Straddling him again this time not feeling insecure she leaned and gave him a kiss. His mouth dominating hers lips. Erik slapped her left ass cheek leaving a sting. She moaned into his mouth.

“Ouch daddy.” She whined softly as she sucked on his bottom lip lightly before releasing it.

Erik’s dick jumped. “I’ma give you something for that mouth if you keep using it like that.” His eyes studying her lips.

Blushing she laid on top of him. Her head in the crook of his neck. Amiyah closed her eyes when she felt his fingers making traces on her back. They both held each other enjoying the peaceful silence. Wiping the condensation off the window Amiyah peered out noticed that it was dawn. The sky began to turn blue as the sun slowly crept up. She sighed when she realized that she had to work later on that day. Thankfully Kelley agreed to switch shifts with her but she wanted to be with Erik all day.

“I don’t wanna go to work today.” She stressed blowing out air of frustration.

“So don’t. Call out.” Erik rubbing circles on the small of her back.

“I can’t. I switched with Kelley already so I don’t think she would want to do both of our shifts. This is so annoying.” Her nails outlining shapes on his neck.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He bent down kissing her forehead.

She smiled lifting her head to kiss his lips.

The question she had been meaning to ask him since they first saw each other tonight came to her mind.

“Why’d you call me so late? Is everything okay.”

Erik completely forgot about the previous events that happened hours before. The moment she was in his arms nothing else mattered anymore.

“Yeah, I just found out about some shit and I wanted to take my mind off of it and you helped with that.” He sent her a half smile pinching her chin gently.

Amiyah gleamed knowing she could be his peace whenever he wanted to get away.

“Well I’m here for you always.” Her eyes giving a sparkle as she spoke.

Meditating for a moment before he replied Erik thought carefully. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t doing this to make her some type of rebound but because genuinely cared about her. He didn’t want to take a second longer as the words blurted out of his lips.

“Amiyah I want you to be mines...”

___________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes.

SN: It’s been years since I wrote a smut scene and all of this was written in an hour and a half so please don’t judge lol.

Tag-list

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaani @bellanay @skylahb @toni9

[moceit]

Home Is Where...

Masterlist

Previous || Next

Summary: It's boring being a teenager when you have no friends and are stuck working as a waiter at your dad's restaurant. At least that's what Virgil thought until a set of twins move into town and start attending school with him. Now how will Virgil survive after letting himself befriend Remus Rey? Suddenly Virgil's life becomes a roller coaster of never-ending adrenaline that he wasn't prepared for... and neither were his parents.

Pairings: Platonic Dukexiety, Eventual Prinxiety, Divorced/Eventual Moceit, Background/Implied Intrulogical, Brief One-Sided Logince

Prologue

Word Count: 1,533

Chapter Warnings: Divorce, lmk if something needs tagged

Read on AO3

"Attack!" the little boy with a toy dinosaur in his hand screamed as he jumped off his bed and onto the pile of blankets and pillows he had laying on the floor.

"Raaaaawr!" he waved the dinosaur in the air to make it look like the toy was the one rawring before he threw the dinosaur at a ton of blocks he had stacked up to stand in place of a skyscraper.

"Destruction!" the little boy cheered as he threw his hands in the air in celebration when his dinosaur toppled over his skyscraper.

"Virgil~" came the recognizable singsong voice of his daddy.

Virgil looked over at his bedroom door to see both of his parents standing there watching him. "Daddy! Papa!" he shouted as he ran up to greet them. He threw himself into a hug between both of his parents who hugged him back.

"Time for bed, kiddo." said Virgil's papa as he stroked his hair.

Virgil threw his head back and groaned as he wiggled himself out of the hug. "Five more minutes?"

Both of his parents glanced at each other and back at him with the same look in their eyes that often told Virgil he was about to be disappointed.

"Afraid not." said his daddy. He came further into the room and lowered himself to be more at eye level with Virgil who was frowning at his parents with begging eyes. "You have school tomorrow so you have to go to bed early."

"Yeah," Virgil's papa squatted down next to his daddy and placed a hand on one of Virgil's shoulders, "your first day of kindergarten. You wanna get lots of sleep tonight so you can wake up refreshed and ready for your big day tomorrow. Okay, kiddo?"

Virgil perked up a little. He had been looking forward to starting kindergarten all summer long and tomorrow he'd finally get to go. Virgil ran to his bed and jumped into it.

His dads followed him, picking up the blankets and pillows discarded on the floor as they went. They helped get Virgil's bed put back together so he could sleep in it that night. After replacing the stuff onto the bed they each gave him a kiss goodnight.

"Wait!" Virgil sprang up from his bed as his papa pulled away from him.

"What?

Virgil ran to where he had left his toy dinosaur in the rubble and picked it up before climbing back into bed.

"Okay!"

Both of his parents planted another kiss on his forehead and wished him goodnight. Virgil closed his eyes. His dads crept out of his room, making sure not to step on any of the blocks they'd remember to have Virgil clean up tomorrow. His papa was the last one out of the room. He flicked off the main light leaving only the dim purple night light to illuminate Virgil's bedroom before slowly closing the door behind him.

Virgil's eyes shot open when he heard the click of his bedroom door. He listened carefully for the sound of his dads' footsteps pad their way down the stairs. Virgil waited for one beat, two beats, then sprang himself out of bed and tiptoed his way across his bedroom to the door that he quietly pulled open. Virgil continued tiptoeing down the hall until he was sitting at the top of the stairs where he could listen in on his parents' conversation from the living room below.

"I can probably stay at my mother's until I find a place close by to rent." Virgil overheard his daddy say.

"That's like an hour away from here. Is that fair to Virgil?" his papa replied. Virgil tensed at the mention of his name. What were they discussing that could possibly pertain to him and his grandma?

"Is any of this fair to Virgil?"

There was a second of silence. Virgil leaned forward, whatever they were talking about really piqued his interest and he didn't want to miss a word.

His papa sighed before finally saying. "No… it isn't. But we can't keep living like this. It's a toxic fantasy that's hurting all of us. We have to give each other space before we both go absolutely crazy and—"

"—and I opted to leave." Virgil's daddy finished his papa's sentence.

"Don't say it like that, Janus."

"Well how do you want me to word it, Patton? We have to separate before we both go insane! One of us needs to move out! We can sort out Virgil's custody later, but for now I think it's best if I make the move as soon as possible."

Virgil felt panic rise in his chest. What did his daddy mean by leaving? Was he going away forever? Virgil was not having it. He ran down the stairs and turned the corner into the living room to meet his dads sitting on the couch staring back at him.

"Virgil?" his papa stood from the sofa. Virgil hadn't realized he started crying until his papa was knelt in front of him brushing tears and hair from his eyes. "What's wrong, kiddo?"

Virgil couldn't bring himself to admit what he overheard upstairs. He blubbered some nonsense as he pressed his face into his papa's shoulder. Virgil wiped the snot and tears on his papa's sleeve as he continued to console his son.

His papa looked over at his daddy who had also stood from the couch and was watching the two of them. "Janus, can you help me?"

Virgil's daddy came up behind Virgil and lowered himself down. He began rubbing soothing circles around Virgil's back. Virgil shifted himself into his daddy's arms as he tried to calm down.

Virgil's daddy pulled Virgil away from him a little so he could look into the boy's eyes. "Are you okay?" his daddy asked.

"I want a bedtime story." Virgil managed to gasp out instead of what he wanted to say.

Both of his parents looked at each other. "A bedtime story?" Virgil knew they didn't believe him, but his dads played along anyway

"There's no need to cry over a bedtime story. If you want one you don't have to be afraid to ask."

Virgil stepped away from his parents and wiped the remaining mess from his face onto his pajama sleeve. He nodded solemnly then led his dads back up the stairs and into his bedroom.

His papa picked him up and placed him back into his bed while his daddy picked out a storybook from his bookshelf.

Virgil's papa took a seat at the foot of his bed. His daddy handed the book to his papa and went to sit on the floor next to Virgil's head.

"Goodnight moon." his papa read the title of the book off to Virgil who snuggled under his covers. Virgil's papa read the entire book as he and his daddy listened.

When he finished he placed the book on Virgil's bedside table. Both of his parents gave him a third kiss goodnight and stood to leave. His daddy walked out of the bedroom and his papa tried to follow but was stopped by one of Virgil's tiny hands reaching up and resting against his arm.

"Is there something else you need, kiddo?" he asked, looking down at the boy laying in bed.

Virgil was about to reveal what really upset him earlier. "Papa? Daddy is not going away for good, is he?"

His papa gave him another one of those looks. "Oh, no baby, no!" he tried to assure the five-year-old. "He's not going away for good." he paused only for a second before adding. "Your daddy is just going on a little vacation from home for a few months. He'll come back soon, I promise!"

"How soon?"

His papa hesitated before answering. "I don't know," he replied truthfully. "But you'll get to see him lots during his vacation. We'll make sure of that, okay?"

Virgil rested his head against his pillow. "Okay papa. Goodnight." he wasn't sure if he was satisfied with his papa's answer, but he didn't press it further. His papa gave him a fourth kiss goodnight and left the bedroom again as Virgil hugged his dinosaur close and fell into a restless sleep.

A few months would pass. His daddy would find a new home to live just a few minutes away while he was on "vacation." Virgil would visit frequently and he loved spending time with his daddy at his temporary house.

Those few months would turn into a year and Virgil's parents would have to explain that daddy's vacation from home would become permanent and that would be how Virgil would first learn about divorce and what that meant for his family.

They would settle on a custody agreement where Virgil would switch homes every couple days. It was jarring for the little six-year-old at first, but he started to get used to the constant jumping back and forth. It became fun for him to mix things up.Just a few months after explaining that daddy was never coming home the divorce would be finalized and this arrangement would become Virgil's new normal. Something the boy would find wouldn't always be easy.

[the-hopeless-haze]

A Dwindling, Mercurial High

Pairing: Elliot Stabler/reader

A/N: Okay so I had a dream about Stabler the other night and he’s my original SVU crush (sorry Barba) and I had “Illicit Affairs” stuck in my head the whole day after so I had to write this. Thank you to @caked-crusader​ and @detective-giggles​ for encouraging my insanity lol!

Content Warning: NSFW due to sex. Brief mentions of cases that Elliot is working on. Infidelity.

The first time you met Elliot, it was because Dickie had a bad asthma attack and had to be hospitalized overnight. You were fresh out of nursing school, more anxious than confident, and it was a night from hell in that pediatric ward, maybe the worst you’d seen in the couple months since you’d started working. The charge nurse could only start one thing before she was asked to help with something else, two nurses called out and only one could cover, and everyone had at least a three-patient assignment. Suffice it to say tensions were high on that floor, and because Dickie wasn’t the sickest of your patients, you didn’t get to see him as often as you should have. Doing your best felt akin to doing nothing, and every time you came in the room, you apologized you hadn’t been able to come in fifteen minutes ago.

Elliot and Kathy told you it was okay and that they’d been through this before and knew what to expect. But it wasn’t really okay, you knew that. No one wanted to think that their nurse was too busy taking care of other sick children to pay attention to theirs.

Needless to say, you were far too busy that night to pay much attention to Elliot that night, but it wouldn’t be the last time you saw him, so maybe it didn’t matter. Still, sometimes you want to remember that glance that started everything because you have so little to hold onto.

You nearly have a heart attack the next week when your nurse manager says an NYPD detective needs to speak with you, and you nearly have another when you see Elliot’s face. You’ll remember the glance vividly this time; you look down at the linoleum hospital floor before finally sweeping your eyes across his face. He’s not mad; you can tell he’s the kind of man who’d let you know if he was angry, so you try to still your shaking hands.

“I just wanted to let you know Dickie’s doing a lot better,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help—"

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid. It was a madhouse in here that night. Besides, I know it was you who got the doctor to switch his meds. They’re working a lot better now. He can actually sleep through the night.”

“Well, that’s great!” you say brightly, genuinely feeling a lot better about that night now. “Did you really come out all this way just to tell me?”

He chuckles, shakes his head. “No. I’m working. Victim’s getting a rape kit done here, so I thought I’d see if I could find you while I wait.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes widening. “What unit do you work on?”

“Special Victims. I’d say I hope I see you around, but I really don’t want my work to bring me to this floor.”

“Me neither. I sincerely hope I never see you again,” you say, smiling, and he smiles back, claps you on the shoulder and thanks you again before leaving.

“He was hot,” Tammy, your best friend on the ward, says as she comes over. “And he came back to see you. Maybe you should ask him out?”

“Well, he’s married,” you laugh. “All the DILFs are. Wives don’t wanna let that go.”

And you really thought that was that. You did have your fair share of DILFs come through that floor, and on slower shifts you’d fantasize about what it would be like to be the other woman, especially when couples would argue to the point of tears. Sure, tensions were always high when children were ill, but those screaming matches were always the result of a more systemic issue within their relationship. Some marriages were destined to fall apart, and sometimes it was exhilarating to dream about being the catalyst, even if you’d never actually act on it. No harm done in imagining yourself with a man you’d only see once in your life.

But you’d see Elliot again in a few months when his job did in fact bring him to your floor. He’s accompanied by a brunette woman, who you later learn is his partner, Olivia. You have no idea how they do their jobs. Sick kids you could handle, but children that had been abused, that were put into that hospital bed, not by the hands of a virus or disease process but by the hands of an adult... it was enough to turn your stomach. But now, at least, you had a direct line to call whenever you thought something iffy was going on between a family, as Elliot gave you his card. He said he trusts your judgment. You tried to suppress your heart fluttering. You’re too young to be having palpitations, but you can’t help staring at him longingly the whole time he’s there talking to the doctor, and you hope neither he nor Olivia notices. He just cared so much, and there’s nothing that gets the ovaries into action like seeing a man that protective over children.

You have to realize, though, that he was just being nice, and he just wanted another set of eyes out there to make sure no one got away with hurting children. You were all too happy to fill that role, anyway. It was a noble one. It had nothing to do with you specifically, and you had to be okay with that.

But fate is a funny thing, because even though you dated around throughout the next couple years, even though you had plenty of other things to occupy your time... Elliot always came back into your life somehow. Just when you thought you forgot about him, it seemed like he was waltzing onto your floor, or, god forbid, there was a child’s family you wanted him to speak to and make sure was alright.

Most times he came empty-handed and almost every time he came with Olivia, but on occasion, he’d show up by himself and with two coffees. And you grew up a little in those couple of years, even if you never grew past harboring your little crush on Elliot. You lost your anxiety that came with being a fledgling nurse and enrolled in a nurse practitioner program. You had your heart broken a few times and you broke a few hearts of your own. You moved out of your parent’s apartment and got your own place.

As for Elliot? Those years didn’t treat him as kindly. He wasn’t growing up as much as he was going down. Kathy wanted to leave him, he felt like he was losing touch with his kids, and his career path only fueled the anger that gnawed at him day after day and night after night. How the hell did his life get this fucked?

Of course, you weren’t privy to this information until he punched a hospital wall. It was a long night, and one of the children he rode on the ambulance with didn’t make it. You were upset, too, of course, even though he wasn’t your patient, and you couldn’t wait to get out of here and cry over a bottle of wine. But when Elliot’s fist connected with the wall, you knew your night was going to end much differently.

“(Y/n)! Are you busy? I need you to take your cop friend out of here. We don’t want the parents seeing that. Go! Clean up his hand and make sure he’s billed for that wall,” the doctor barks at you. “You gonna move?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it, Doc,” you murmur, but you’re frozen in place at the nurse’s station. You can’t help staring at Elliot as he steps out of the room, with his chest heaving, his hand bloodied, his blue eyes ablaze. Eventually, your legs cooperate with you again, and you nod at him, motioning for him to follow you down the hallway. You grab some gauze and alcohol from the supply closet on the way and lead him into an empty room, taking his hand in yours. “Can you make a fist for me? I need to see if it’s broken.”

Elliot doesn’t say anything; he barely even looks at you, but he does as you ask.

“Okay. Good. You're just gonna be a little sore. You can relax it now. The alcohol is going to sting—“

“I know,” he says hollowly.

“I’m sorry. You’re the oldest patient I’ve had since I was in school,” you say, feeling your face flush as you grab the alcohol and wipe his knuckles. "This isn't the first time you've attacked a wall, then, hm?"

Elliot shoots you a withering look and you swallow thickly. Was he going to yell at you now? Thankfully, he sighs and the anger in his eyes fades. "Listen. I'm sorry you had to be here for that.”

"It's alright. I've seen worse. And I know it's tough, Elliot," you say. "Everyone handles grief differently."

"It ever get any easier for you?"

"No," you whisper, letting your hair fall in front of your eyes so he can't see them well up with tears as you lean over to bandage his hand. "Guess it never does. I don't get angry; I just get depressed. You don't want to get desensitized to it, though. I'd rather see people punch walls than not care."

Your breath catches in your throat as he pushes your hair back with his good hand, and he keeps it there on the side of your cheek. All this time, in the four years of knowing this man, and he'd never touched you like this. Come to think of it, you never exactly stood this close to him, either. Your relationship was always professional, despite all the times you wished it wasn't. Wasn't there a reason you two kept ending up in the same rooms? Wasn't there a reason you ended up in this one, alone? And you could get drunk off his scent, couldn’t you? The slight musk of sweat from his earlier exertion, the woodsy headiness of his cologne, the hint of spearmint on his breath from his mouthwash... it was all too much, and it’s all you have in you to not lean into his touch, to not lean over and press your mouth to his...

“Elliot—“

"Don't talk," he murmurs. "Unless you want to stop me. Do you?”

You wouldn’t dare.

When your lips finally do connect, it's electric, even though the only thing running through the back of your mind is how you'd probably be fired if anyone stepped into the room at this moment. You can't very well deny yourself what you've been wanting on and off for years, though, even if it’s wrong. His hands grab your waist and yours find purchase on his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex underneath you as he moves you to straddle his thigh. You have to try very hard not to search for that friction your whole body aches for, not yet, not when you don’t know how far he wants to take this and when you’re still on the clock.

“When do you get off?” he asks, and you both chuckle at the unintended double-entendre.

“At eleven.”

“Come have a drink with me.”

“I don’t want a drink. I want to continue this,” you purr, getting off his lap to fix the bandage and tape it down.

“You sure?”

“Elliot, I thought you’d never ask me. I would’ve been sure four years ago,” you say, feeling slightly guilty at that, but it was true. The more you saw of him without his wife and children the easier it was to forget that they were the reason you met him in the first place. And if at any time he kissed you like that? You know you’d be putty in his hands just like you were now. “You don’t need to go back to the precinct?” You don’t dare ask about home. Selfishly, you don’t want that to cross his mind.

“I’ll be back here by eleven.”

It’s another breathless kiss before you’re out the door, heading back to finish your shift.

“The hell are you all red for, (y/n)?” Tammy asks as you round the corner.

“Nothing,” you say. “Just ran up here. You need anything?”

“Ran up here? Weren’t you taking care of... oh. You’re playing with fire, girl,” she says, smirking.

“Shut up,” you say, but you can’t force your cheeks to cool down. “Nothing happened.”

“Mm. Be careful. He’s still married, isn’t he?”

You wouldn’t listen. You were only after chasing that high, even if it was only born to die in front of your eyes. —- You’re straining against your handcuffs, and you can’t see Elliot at all through the blindfold, but you can feel his hands and his mouth, hot and heavy, touching you everywhere. You have no clue where to focus, and you still can’t quite believe he’s here in your apartment. Part of you expected him to stand you up and realize that he should be going home instead of taking you to bed. But he either didn’t have that epiphany or he didn’t care - and you were desperate enough for him that you’d take either - and so began your first illicit meeting.

“I told you to stop pulling at those, baby,” Elliot says, his tone stern. “You’re going to make yourself bleed.”

“Maybe if you gave me what I wanted, I wouldn’t have to—“

He cuts you off with a firm kiss, and you can feel his cock hard against your thigh, and not being able to see only heightens the sensation. “You gonna give me attitude, baby? I don’t think so. Why don’t you relax? I’m gonna take care of you. Gonna take my time though. Been four years of seeing your ass in those tight scrubs and not being able to do fucking anything about it.”

“You noticed me…. Like that?”

“You think I’d be here if I didn’t? Don’t act innocent now. You know what you do to me.”

Of course, you had noticed him looking at you sometimes, but you never let yourself read into it, but now, everything was coming back to you and… oh, fuck, finally he slips two fingers into your entrance and you’re drawn out of your thoughts, arching your back as he drags his fingers across your walls, painstakingly slow.

“You’re fucking soaking, baby girl,” he grunts. “You think you can take three? Mm. Gonna stretch you out a little.”

His bandaged hand comes to still your hips and you can’t believe he’s fucking you this good with his non-dominant hand, his thumb flicking against your clit every so often, those little shocks of pleasure bringing you closer to the million little deaths you deserved. Sometimes you’d feel his mouth where you’d least expect it, too, his tongue licking a trail up your stomach to take your nipple in his mouth or his teeth and tongue working on leaving a mark on your collarbone.

“Please. So close, El,” you pant, rolling your hips in vain.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it, come on, let go, baby,” Elliot growls in your ear. “Just let go.”

And you do, falling apart with his name on your lips before he kisses you again, swallowing down all your moans and whimpers, his hands leaving your lower body to find purchase in your hair.

“You good?” he asks, barely pulling away from your mouth.

“So good,” you gasp, straining upward to press your lips to his again.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby, that okay?”

“More than okay.”

You’re so wet he doesn’t meet much resistance, but you’re still sensitive from your orgasm so soon before, and combined with the fact that you can’t see or touch him - it was almost too much at once.

“Oh fucking hell,” Elliot grunts. “You good?”

“Yes. Please start fucking moving,” you whine. “Fuck me hard.”

You can tell he needs that; he needs to let go of all his pent-up anger and frustration, and you didn’t really care if at the expense of that you couldn’t walk tomorrow. You’d do anything, anything for just the chance to occupy a sliver of his life.

And God, once given permission, he doesn’t hold back at all. He sets a brutal pace, the bed shaking and moving in tandem with the force of his thrusts. You can’t see him, obviously, but you can feel the weight on the bed shift and his angle change as he grips the headboard, driving into you so roughly you think you might black out. He starts grunting softly with every thrust, and then, oh - you feel him move back down, his lips catching yours and his hands cupping your breasts and it’s all you can do to fight with your body not to come yet; you want to come with him, experience this high together.

“Fuck, (y/n), so good,” he groans, his tongue running over the bruise he’d sucked onto your skin earlier, and you whimper in response. “So fucking good for me, taking my cock so good. Knew you’d be fucking amazing.”

If his dirty talk wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, well, he adjusts his angle with a particularly strong thrust of his hips and you’re pulling on the handcuffs again, the sting as they slice into your wrists a sharp contrast to the impending pleasure - if you could just hold on - and thankfully, Elliot’s panting brusquely in your ear that he’s close, that you should let go again. Coming together is a beautiful euphoria - one that was desperately needed after the night you had, after the four years of longing stares that neither of you, apparently, knew was reciprocated until now. But like the end of all highs, you have to come down at some point. Elliot lifts the blindfold and looking into his eyes for the first time since he stripped you naked, you can’t help but feel like a fucking mess. But you know you’d do it again, and again, and again...

“I told you not to pull at those,” he tsks, leaning over to unlock the handcuffs and free your wrists. “You’re bleeding, (y/n).”

And, like some bad deja vu, Elliot’s cleaning your wounds with alcohol like you did for him only hours prior.

And after, he stays and talks with you a little, mentions vaguely his marriage is going downhill, which you could have easily figured out yourself, and when you wake up in the morning, he’s gone without a trace. You had to expect that he couldn’t stay, and you wonder what lie he fed his wife. You wonder if she believed it. Was this just a one time thing? Maybe you just both needed to get this out of your system, as almost half a decade of sexual tension needed to be dealt with somehow.

But no. Like always, you see him again, and on most occasions, now, he ends up tangled in your bedsheets. It feels like you’re always competing with other women for Elliot’s attention, whether it be Kathy or Olivia. But you take solace in the fact that you’re the only one he’s going to fuck like this. Olivia’s his partner, and that relationship is already too close for comfort to bring sex into. And if he came home with handcuffs and a blindfold to his wife, she’d drag his ass to therapy. You’re the only woman in his life that he can use for this, and that thought alone could get you high, could get you off. And sometimes, that feels like all he’s using you for, a sense of release for the moments when he doesn’t want to be at home and he can’t be at work. But other times - he lets you in, tells you jokes, tells you stories - and in some ways you’ve never felt this close to another person. He played such a different role in all the other areas of his life - but with you - he didn't have to play one, and sometimes you caught a glimpse of the man he was before all his burdens were placed onto his shoulders. You know you’ll never have a relationship like this with anyone else.

And for that reason, you’ll always answer the phone when he calls, even if you ruin yourself every time. You would for him. You always would for him.

[nooneandeveryone]

Can i request fic of arkin,asa and abby where asa gets curious on how arkin will react to abby making advancements and well he watches arkin and abby start fucking but eventually asa decides to join in on the fun?

So I thought... hey that sounds fun. It'll be a nice quick write up. Well. 1,995 words later it's larger than expected. I HOPE YOU'RE PROUD OF YOURSELF

I switch POVs through out because I wanted to.

warnings for breathplay, throat stepping

--Arkin--

It must’ve been hours, Arkin could barely feel his fingertips. He’d been left tied and gagged in a bare room. He’d managed to loosen the ropes somewhat, given enough time he could probably work his way out of them. He’d rather find something sharp to cut them with. He had wiggled to the edge of the room in hopes of finding something. An old nail or screw, anything.

He heard the dead bolts open on the door. He was ready to brace himself, expecting to be dragged off somewhere.

But instead, a young woman was shoved into the room. The door locked loudly behind her.

She was obviously another victim. She had old wounds on one of her hands. While she had intact clothes, they were still grubby. And she had the same haunted expression of someone who’d seen a lot of death.

She also seemed very unsure about why she was there. She had noticed Arkin then looked back at the door.

Carefully, she edged her way over to him, obviously checking for traps as she went.

Arkin made a pleading sound through the gag. Even if this was some kind of weird trick by the killer, she might at least get him out of the ropes.

She did crouch down and pull his gag free.

“...get me out of this!” Arkin said, managing to not sound as desperate as he felt.

She hesitated and looked back at the door again. “I don’t--I think he’s testing us…” her voice was shaky and uncertain.

Arkin strained against the ropes keeping his arms behind his back. The freak had used a weird overly complicated series of knots that kept his arms together. “I don’t give a fuck what he’s doing!” he said in frustration. “Help me outta this!”

--Abby--

Abby had seen the tied up man before, on the monitors in His room. She had asked about him. Predictably, she got no verbal response. He had simply gestured to her then the screen. He wanted to know why she was interested. “He’s… he’s kind of cute,” she said nervously, she hoped showing interest in someone that wasn’t Him wasn’t against the rules. She shrank back just in case it was.

Instead He made a hand motion that meant he agreed with her.

Just a few hours later she found herself shoved into a room with the same man. Only now he was tied up and helpless on the floor.

She usually could guess what He wanted from her, but this time she was at a loss. Was this a weird gift? A test? A trick?

The least she could do was take out his gag.

He did look better in person than the monitors. Did He tie him up <i>for</i> her? Or was he dangerous? She edged back, he certainly wasn’t happy, that could be bad.

Perhaps sensing this, the tied man’s voice went softer. “Hey. It’s okay… I’m Arkin, what’s your name?”

“Abby…”

“Okay, Abby. Listen, my hands are going numb. Can you at least try to loosen the ropes? He wouldn’t have put you in here if he didn’t want you to do something.”

Did Arkin understand Him too?

“O-Okay…”

--Asa--

It was going well, he thought. He’ll leave them in there together for a few hours, or maybe a day, and see if anything changes. While there were a few outcomes he would like to see, he was more interested in seeing what they chose to do on their own. He could have easily told Abby precisely what he wanted but chose not to.

He’ll stay the night at the hotel to keep an eye on them. He had no pressing unmasked matters to attend to tomorrow. It would be a shame to miss anything interesting.

--Arkin--

It took a lot of coaxing for Arkin to convince Abby to at least untie his legs. She was very concerned with making the masked man angry. The masked man remained silent for her too, leaving her to guess what he wanted and hope she was right. She’d definitely been here longer than Arkin.

Then they were just left alone in that room.

They sat on the floor in an uneasy silence. She eventually moved to sit next to Arkin and leaned into him. He didn’t question it, they were in a fairly cool room and she had on a sleeveless dress.

“I think it’s safe to untie me,” he told her gently.

She curled up against his side, she still looked apprehensive but not as fearful as she was. She clearly wasn’t ready to untie him, however. They stayed like that and eventually, they both fell asleep.

It wasn’t the most comfortable sleep but it was… comforting. Not just for the shared body heat.

In between bouts of fitful sleep, Abby finally decided to untie him. Again, he didn’t question it, he just groaned as blood flow slowly restored itself. His arms felt heavy and hurt. The ropes had left clear indentations down his arms.

She curled herself against him again, this time taking one of his arms in hers. She rubbed her hands up and down his forearm, where most of the rope marks were left. It felt amazingly good. His arms and shoulders had almost completely cramped up. She mumbled a barely audible apology, as her hands worked further up his arm.

Arkin could barely string together words in reply, because of the pure relief of pain being rubbed away. “...it’s fine,” he managed to slur out. He really did understand why she didn’t untie him sooner.

She moved her hands to his other arm, which turned into him spooning her on the floor. It wasn’t a conscious effort on his part, it just seemed like the natural thing to do.

Things began to shift as she rubbed his forearm. It took him a moment to realize his hand had settled against her inner thigh. She was still rubbing the knots in his arm and didn’t seem to care where his hand was.

Then her hand moved to his wrist and very gently guided his hand between her legs.

Should they really be doing this?

“The rules are different here,” Abby said, turning her head back to look at him.

She was right. They were prisoners to a murderer who enjoyed inflicting pain. There was rarely a moment where he felt anything else. Arkin shifted to bring her back flush to his chest. He slid his hand fully between her legs. There wasn’t much in the way of clothing to get past. His fingers slid down and found she was already quite wet.

God, what did that freak do to them to make them like this?

He slid his fingers back up, working a circular motion until he found her clit. She let out a small gasp. It was encouraging, despite not knowing her, just to get a positive reaction from someone. Someone who isn’t actively trying to hurt him.

She tried to stay quiet, with only little squeaks escaping. Generally, Arkin would prefer a more vocal partner but like she said, the rules are different here. The masked freak could be watching or listening. For some twisted reason, the thought actually excited him. He’ll just try to push that as far out of his mind as he can.

--Abby--

She still wasn’t sure if what they were doing was allowed. She hoped it was. It seemed likely. He left her in here with Arkin far longer than she’s been around any of the others. Maybe, He wanted her to have this?

This felt very good. Arkin kept varying the speed he moved his fingers. He’d slow down if she made louder sounds. Was he a tease or was he worried they’d get caught?

The first time she came, she closed a hand over her mouth. It was safer to be quiet. Her other hand desperately gripped his forearm. He did not stop, with her mouth covered he seemed to take that as an invitation to speed up. Two fingers slid down to press inside her for a moment then he went right back to her clit.

When she came the second time, she ground her hips back into him. He’d had an erection for a while, she’d felt it, but he wasn’t doing anything about it. She ground back again, getting a little grunt out of him. It was surprisingly gratifying.

Finally, she decided to do something about it. She turned around to face him and gently pushed him onto his back. She opened his pants, her fingers brushing over his dick. He drew in a hissing breath.

“Okay?” she asked cautiously. He just nodded in response.

She straddled his hips and let out a long breath. She took a moment to just slide her wet and swollen labia against his dick. He made a cute little choking sound; he was trying very hard not to make noise.

She shifted her hips and let his dick slide into her. She had gotten very tight after repeated orgasms.

Now it was even harder for him to keep quiet.

The door opened.

--Asa--

Asa was very pleased to see Abby reacted just as he expected. She immediately covered Arkin’s mouth with her hands and told him to not move. He heard her repeat “Just wait.” over and over to Arkin. She kept her gaze averted and pulled her shoulders together in her usual show of submission. Arkin, however, looked like he was ready to jump up at any second. But he was following Abby’s instructions.

He stood in the doorway long enough to convey he was not angry. If he had been angry he would’ve rushed in. No, this was working out better than expected.

He took slow measured steps toward them. His head tilted as he looked them over. He moved his hand in a signal for them to continue.

Abby understood, of course, but looked apprehensive. Arkin, predictably, looked angry, he also understood.

Arkin growled and tore Abby’s hands off his mouth. “You fuc--” is all he got out before Asa moved forward and stepped on his neck. Just enough pressure to keep him quiet and struggled to breathe.

He gestured to Abby to continue.

And she did. Her hips rocked against Arkin.

Arkin struggled and clawed at his boot and leg.

Asa let out a low pleased hum.

Abby relaxed, as she always did when she understood what he wanted. He ran his hand through her hair to reinforce it.

She performed beautifully. She started to move with more force. Actively fucking herself on Arkin’s dick.

---Arkin---

It’s completely insane!

He’s gasping for air, trying to get the freak’s boot off his throat. Yet, somehow, he’s still fucking hard. And the monster is encouraging her!

Logically, he understands that she has no choice. In the moment, he can’t help but feel betrayed. She’s doing what the monster wants!

The worst of it is, it feels good.

He glanced up to see a hungry look in the man’s eyes. A little jolt of pleasure hit him and he almost felt sick.

Abby suddenly ground into him, which brought a new wave of pleasure. He choked against the man’s boot.

When he glanced up again, the man’s dick was out and Abby was running his tongue up and down it.

Arkin tried to scream but the boot came down harder, his air completely cut off. He felt Abby’s muscles spasm on his dick. He could hear her actually moaning now.

His vision started to darken but he could see the man bury his dick deep into her throat. An orgasm hit her so hard it felt like she was trying to crush his dick.

Just barely hanging on to consciousness, he saw the man pull out. A string of cum fell directly on Arkin's face.

A sick pleasure ripped through him seconds before he blacked out

[multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer]

Monster (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey guys! The overwhelming amount of love that my last post is getting is insane, so I decided to post this short little Draco drabble to say thank you. I’m not sure how it turned out, so let me know if you like it at all haha. I wanted to kinda take a twist with the classic dark mark trope. This is also kinda open-ended for a part 2 if y’all want :) But anyway, thank you for all of my new followers and I’m so happy that each and every one of you are here! My requests are open, my DMs are open, and my asks are open if you just wanna know anything about me! I love having mutuals on here, too, so let me know if you want to be mutuals. Thank you!! <3

Summary: Taking the dark mark is never a good decision, so how will it affect you and Draco’s relationship?

Monster

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 1,662 (quite a bit shorter than the last one lol)

Warnings: angst. a lot of angst. sorry

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The two of you were supposed to be normal for just a little bit longer. You had to go and ruin things.

“Draco...I need to tell you something,” You whisper, running your hands through his hand. He hums, turning his head to gaze into your eyes. You smile sadly down at him.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He muses, reaching a hand up to brush your cheek. You sigh into his hand subconsciously, knowing this moment can’t last much longer.

“You’re going to be upset with me,” You murmur, opening your eyes again to stare into his piercing silver ones. They stare back questioningly.

“You know I can never stay mad at you for very long,” He reassures you, sitting up to be face-to-face with you. He senses the seriousness in your tone.

“My...my family gave me a decision a couple weeks ago,” You start, taking a deep breath to keep your voice even, “it happened earlier today.”

“What happened, love?” Draco looks concerned now, sitting up even more to search your face for any possible answers.

“I took the mark.” You whisper, looking down to avoid seeing his reaction. He stills in front of you.

“You took it?” You hear the forcing of his words, almost like he’s choking them out. You look up at him and see the absolute hurt in his eyes. The brokenness.

“They didn’t give me much of a choice, it was either that or--”

“You took the dark mark?” He asks, reaching for your wrist. You shy away from his grasp, bringing your tender wrist to your chest. He looks even more betrayed by your gesture.

“Draco, they...they threatened my family... I-- I didn’t have a choice.” You stutter out.

“There’s always a choice, (Y/n),” Draco stares at your wrist, not you.

“There wasn’t. Voldemort said he’d kill them all if I didn’t step up. I had to, you don’t understand...my parents, my sister. I couldn’t do that to them.” Your lower lip starts to tremble at the memory.

“You could’ve asked for more time or- or asked your sister to step up instead. Why you? Why now? What about our promise to each other?” He asks, clenching his jaw as he asks questions that you don’t know the answer to.

“I don’t know why me...I don’t know why now. But our promise--”

“Is broken.” Draco finishes for you, his eyes finding yours again. You feel like you’re staring into fractals of his soul, shattered into pieces by you and your impulsive decisions.

“No, no we can still be normal, Draco. We can still be together. I-I mean it’s only a matter of time until you have to take it, too. We’ll be in this together at that point. There’s a choice we’ve made in this war--”

“No, there’s a choice that you made in this war. And you made that choice earlier today. After we had promised...that we’d make the opposite choice. We were going to run away together, (Y/n/n)...what happened to that? What happened to us?” He murmurs, and you see his eyes gloss over. Tears prick at your own eyes.

“We’re not gone, baby, we’re still here. Once this war is over, then we can run away together as we planned. I promise.”

“Your promises are starting to sound like a broken record.”

The breath gets knocked out of your lungs at these few words and tears start to spill down your cheeks. He doesn’t believe you.

You’ve lost his trust entirely.

“Don’t say that, Draco. Don’t say that.” You plead, grasping for his hands. He lets you take them, clutching them close to you.

“I’m not sure I can do this, (Y/n)...I never wanted to choose this side. You know that more than anyone,” He mutters, tracing your hands. You sob, unable to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. You know you look like a mess right now, but that couldn’t be further from your mind as you beg for Draco to stay with you.

“Please...for me? We always promised that we’d be there for each other through thick and thin...through everything, right?” You cry, starting to shake furiously throughout your entire body. Draco’s oddly still for a moment.

Then, he rips back your sleeve to reveal the mark in all of its hideous glory. You try to wrench your wrist out of his grasp, but he’s much stronger.

“That was before you became one of them. Before you took this dreaded mark….this dreaded oath. To serve the dark lord.” Draco spits with venom in his voice. You stop struggling against his grip, staring at the mark with him.

Something in you shifts at his cold words, causing you to still and the tears to slow.

“You think I’m a monster,” You let out lowly, face stoic and turned cold as you look up from the mark to your boyfriend.

“I never said that…” He trails off, meeting your eyes. He looks… scared. Of you. 

“I can see it in your eyes, Malfoy. You’re afraid of me. Of my power. You’re afraid of what I’ve become because you thought that the sobbing girl in front of you was capable of something terrible. Tell me, Draco, do you think I’m capable of terrifying things?” You ask him harshly, clenching your jaw to prepare for the answer.

“This (Y/n) is not the same one that I fell in love with,” He lets out, face turning from cold to confused again. He knows he’s struck a chord, and now he’s trying to figure his way out.

“Maybe you just didn’t know who you were falling in love with if you think me capable of such horrid things….” You muse in a low tone, rising to your feet slowly. Draco remains seated as you tower over him for once.

“(Y/n)...what’s happening?” He asks, and you see him switch to defensive mode. He starts to reach for his wand in his inner pocket. You’re quicker than him, though, and you quickly whip out your wand.

“Expelliarmus.” You murmur, watching the wand fly across the room. Draco stands but makes no move to retrieve the wand.

“(Y/n). This isn’t you. What are you doing? What changed?” He asks, reaching out to cup your face. You brush his hand aside, your face remaining stone cold.

“You made your choice. You don’t get to reverse that and try to trick me back into your arms. What changed, you ask? I saw my boyfriend...my ex-boyfriend...look into my eyes with fear. I saw him think of me as a monster, as a murderer. I’ve done nothing wrong, yet, Draco! Don’t you see that! I’m trying to remain blameless! I tried to stay with you.” Your stoic facade starts to crack at the edges, showing some of the anger and sadness you’re feeling deep inside.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. This is the mark speaking or something. Please, (Y/n/n), fight the darkness. I...I’m going to try my best and do the same. We’ll make it through this together,” He promises, reaching out another hand. You take a step back.

“You’re just using your smooth words to trick me. You’re still afraid. This is a defense tactic….I’m scaring you. You still think I’m going to hurt you.” A tear slips down your cheek and you look away.

“No, (Y/n/n), you would never hurt me. I know that,” He whispers, taking a cautious step toward you. You look up at him, rage now evident on your face.

“Says the man taking his steps toward me with caution. Says the man who’s still using the same defense tactic I’ve already called you out for! You’re...you’re scared of me. Admit it. I...I’m a monster to you. You’ve already made up your mind,” Your words get softer as your sentence goes on, the rage leaving you as devastation and exhaustion sweeps in behind it. You slump against a table, setting your wand down.

You would never hurt Draco, would you?

Would you?

“You’re upset. You’re in a frenzy. You just need to calm down, (Y/n). Please, we’ll talk about this once you’re no longer upset, okay?” He murmurs, and you’re too tired all of the sudden to stop him from picking you up and setting you down softly on his bed.

“...’m sorry,” You cry softly into his sheets.

“Shh, I know. I know.” He strokes your hair as you drift into a fitful sleep.

~+~

You wake up to rays shining through Draco’s large window. You rub your eyes and look around the room, not seeing Draco. He must be downstairs.

You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, hissing as you feel a stinging pain in your wrist. You lift your sleeve to see the taunting mark on your skin. You itch at it for a moment, only to realize that it won’t ever help. You sigh and stand up, spotting a small piece of paper on the bedside table. You pick it up and start to read the writing on it.

(Y/n),

I’m sorry. And I know you are, too. But I had to go. Maybe we can make up in the future after the war sometime, but right now we’re on opposite sides. And you’re right. I was scared of you. So I left. I won’t be back, not for a long time, at least. Not unless it’s against my will. I hope things get better in the future because I do love you. This is the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time. If you can find it in yourself to love me, too, after everything...wait for me. I’ll do the same.

Love,

Draco

You feel your heart rip to pieces in your chest, the events of last night dawning on you. You had almost hurt him. And now, because of your stupidity in the entirety of yesterday, he left you.

And you have no one left to turn to. 

[willadisastercry]

Pidge is less okay than everyone thought... and that’s okay

Tw: detailed description of a panic attack, unintentional self harm (not intense or graphic)

Shiro and Lance are the only one’s who seem to be able to help when Pidge has an anxiety attack, they’re also the only people who know she even actively has them. But Pidge has overworked herself all week, not getting enough sleep or even bothering to eat much before today’s mission. So when she faces a hitch in an attempt to acquire possibly crucial intel that could put her family back together, she can’t steal her nerves quick enough before this one comes on and nothing seems to be working to calm her down this time.

“Really good work out there today, guys. Relax and rest a bit before we regroup later to discuss.”

Pidge had barely noticed Shiro was even speaking, too enthralled in the prospect of what could possibly be contained on the drive she’d secured with galra intel from today’s mission.

“Awh, come onnn Shiro. Can’t we just call it a night? I’m so wiped.”

Flight plans, prisoner logs, cargo shipment details, the possibilities were really endless and anything could get her one step closer to finding her father and brother. She couldn’t get complacent now.

“Would you rather wake up early tomorrow morning—“

“NO! No, forget I asked. Ugh,” Lance urged before huffing in frustration as he sprawled himself across the couch in the common room, everyone else already following suit and nearly entirely atop of one another.

They all seemed content to remain like that, but Pidge felt like there were bugs crawling under her skin. She didn’t want to relax, she didn’t know if she could.

Her heart pumped erratically in her chest as she felt more and more useless sitting on a couch relaxing when she could be analyzing the data that just might help her find her family.

“Anyone else have—“

“I’m going to go ‘relax’ in my lab,” Pidge announced resolutely.

“Uh, Pidge, you know the whole point of relaxing is ya know, not doing anything, right?”Hunk asked as Keith shifted to allow him to release her from under the weight of his arm where it fell in their semi dog pile onto the couch.

“I need to start my diagnostics on the encrypted files I retrieved before they corrupt,” Pidge’s words were pointed and direct.

“Lone galra cruisers don’t usually have tech guys, it’ll take some time to relay the news of the attack over to hq and even more time for them to properly investigate and figure out what we got away with... you’ve got plenty of time Pidge—“

“Well, we weren’t exactly stealthy and they could have failsafes already initiated ready to go at any moment! It’s crucial that I review and decrypt as much as I can before all of our work goes to hell—“

“I thought we were sorta clean with it...” Keith muttered deep in thought as he reviewed their performance over in his head.

“Woah, slow down,” Lance interjected everyone, “if you’re still mad at me about not catching that last sentry before you were done cleaning out all of the files from the server then, I get that, but you don’t need to be so—“

“Guys, guys! We’ll discuss it later, for now everyone’s only job is to chill out, and Pidge, you can go work in your lab as long as you promise to come to the meeting later with a cooler head, deal?”

“Yeah, whatever. Deal,” she gruffed before taking off towards Green’s hangar to retrieve the usb from today’s mission.

“Jeez,” Hunk sighed as he fixed his headband back into place from where it had slipped down.

“And I thought I could be hot-headed...” Keith mused almost in awe but also worry because why was Pidge this worked up over some data that may or may not even be helpful?

“I was still down from a blast during hand to hand with the second wave of sentries...” Lance stared at the floor, his face full of hurt as he recalled his moment of error in battle that he was certain causing Pidge’s mood.

“...I didn’t see the last one come up and when I did he’d already blasted the control panel to shit.”

“It’s not your fault Lance, the mission couldn’t have gone smoother. We did what we set out to and that’s all we can focus on for now, let’s just give her some space to cool off and wait for the meeting to dole the rest out.”

The boys agreed and stayed in the common room for several more minutes talking about how weird Pidge was being before finally heading off to get cleaned up.

Pidge wished she could get washed up, but she had so much work left to do. She was typing away furiously as she produced line of code after code, determined to not let up before she was done.

Her legs pumped restlessly against the floor while she worked, her entire body practically vibrating with nervous energy.

She just needed to configure a base for her decryption software according to the firewalls in this particular ship’s files so she could finally let it run and—fuck.

The altean computer screen wavered and then sputtered as it began rebooting.

“Nononono, no, NO! You’ve got to be kidding me...”

She could throw up.

The processor had overheated before she could get the last few lines of code typed to initialize her software which meant when it cooled off she would have to start from the beginning and by then... by then there could be nothing left to decrypt.

Panic swelled in her chest, the heat spreading as quickly as it appeared.

This could have been what leads her to her father, to her brother. And if she failed she could be what breaks her family... for good.

She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the strain in her chest brought her out of her staring competition with the blaring red across the screen in front of her.

Inhaling sharply, she clutched her chest. The initial breath hurt and so she breathed again to see if it would hurt again, and it did.

Shit, why does it hurt? Slower. Breathe slower.

But she couldn’t. She took another. And then another. And then she was breathing so fast none of her heaves seemed to alleviate the tightness that wrapped around her lungs and crawled up into her throat.

“Aha, fuck.”

The panic came on so quickly it almost made her nauseous.

The harder she tried to return her breathing to normal the deeper she seemed to plunge. But she still had work to do. And she had to be cooled off for the meeting or Shiro wouldn’t let her return to her lab.

She needed to, in her own words, calm the fuck down.

She’d done it before, managed to bring herself down from this point. But that was with Lance by her side to gently guide her breathing to something steadier and with Shiro holding her so tightly it was hard to find a good enough reason to remain so tightly wound.

And she was just very rude to both of them so she couldn’t ask for their help after that. Pidge had never done it by herself before, but she would have to at least try to now.

So she closed her eyes and forced herself to take in a large enough breath so she could count her inhale, hold it, and then exhale, but even doing that had hurt and seemed to just make deepen the ache.

“No... why... why isn’t it... working?!”

Her chest felt too heavy to do it, too tight and she couldn’t seem to manage the counts without making it worse. Her lungs would tighten up and ache before she reached the end of the time she was supposed to hold her breath which caused her exhale to be several rapid inhales instead.

Oh god.

She pushed herself away from her desk, in the process pulling the keyboard out as well as knocking over a pile of electronics that fell to the floor with a clank that jarred her now insanely sensitive ears.

There was too much input. Too many things making it impossible to do this on her own.

She scrambled to shut the radio off, but her eyes were blurry with tears and she couldn’t find the correct buttons, increasing the volume and switching it to a station of static instead.

She let out a scream she didn’t know she was holding back as she sank to her knees, clamping hands over her ears to try and block out all the noise that was now overloading her senses.

It was like everything had been dialed to 10.

The whirring of the computer processor as it worked, the cool air being pushed into the room from a vent over her head, the steady beeps and ticks of several different machines and... and the door of the lab opening followed by footsteps.

“Pidge?”

Keith.

“Pidge, hey... what happened?”

His voice was so loud.

“What’s wro—“

“Shh,” she begged, voice barely a whisper over her ragged breathing.

“Okay, okay,” he placated as he closed the distance between them.

“I can be quieter... and maybe if I turn this off, how’s that? Better?”

She nodded, removing her hands from her ears once he’d gotten the radio off. She hadn’t noticed when she’d started shaking but her hands were trembling so badly she had to hold them to keep them remotely still.

“I’m gonna sit with you, is that okay? Alright, do you think you can tell me what’s happening right now?”

She thought about it for a second and concluded that even she didn’t know.

She’d had anxiety attacks before, Shiro had been the first to name it for what it was. They were mostly inattentive ones where she’d dissociate, sometimes she would get worked up and hyperventilate, but it was only ever fleeting, short, over in a couple minutes. And other than that she’d always had some sort of an answer to nearly everything anxiety related. Except now.

Because right now she did not know what was happening, only that even her own heart pumping was so loud it made her want to disappear into a blissful cloud of nothing. She didn’t like not knowing what this was and why she was feeling it, and that realization seemed to break what little progress she had made in containing it.

“Wait no, it’s okay, you’re okay!”

But she wasn’t. She was so far from okay.

“Pidge, you’re safe. You just need to breathe.”

She knew that already and she’s been trying, but the more she tried and failed the more she became aware that there was nothing she could do on her own to stop it.

“This happens to me too sometimes, I know it seems impossible but you can do it. We can do it together, yeah? Okay, I need you to take a really deep breath for me, I’ll go first.”

And he did. He inhaled audibly and urged her to follow. And she tried, but her chest hitched and she choked on the air she tried to bring in.

Keith wanted to soothe her and placed his hand on her arm but she jolted so violently at the touch that he tore his hand away as if he was afraid he’d burned her. She met him with desperate eyes, sincere with frustration and impatience.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m helping much.... do you want me to get someone else? Hunk? Or maybe—“

“Sh-Shiro or Lance, p-please...”

Her hands were in fists on her lap and they were beginning to go numb, a tingle spreading from her wrists up to her shoulders and a similar one moving up her legs. She hated when that happened.

She hated feeling so much emotion when her body felt so stuck, so not there. Because she was there and she was struggling and now was not the time to go ghost on herself.

“I can’t-I can’t stop it, I just want it... to stop.”

“This feeling isn’t permanent, it’s just your body reacting—it’ll stop,” he moved his hand from the floor to her knee and she flinched again but let it remain there.

“I’m going to be right back with someone, is that okay? You’ll be alone for only a minute...”

She nodded through a strangled sob. Her mouth was starting to go dry and so she didn’t feel much like talking anymore.

Keith squeezed her bouncing knee before taking off in a dead sprint. Pidge surrendered to the heaviness of her eyelids and closed them for a moment as she vaguely wondered how he would describe the predicament to their friends and how exactly he’d realized something was awry at all, relishing in the prospect of focusing on something other than her own panic for a moment.

But the relief didn’t last long because when she pried her eyes open to see if someone, anyone was back yet, the world tilted.

She watched in horror as objects seemed to wane out of focus while others seem pulled into hyper detail, the floor stretching out in front of her in an unrelenting wave of movement, the little dots of static that you usually see when you blur your vision or just before you pass out were now moving so quickly she could cry. Correction: she was already crying, but she couldn’t stop full on hysterics now.

She didn’t know when she had scooted herself against the leg of the desk but was thankful for the support, thankful for something to remind her that she was on the ground, in her lab, in... space.

The way her chest contracted as her mind continued to do its own whirring, continued to think about all of the things she couldn’t possibly control but felt compelled to try to caused her a whole new type of distress.

It was too much.

She squirmed as she tried to get away from herself, from this feeling, throwing her head back hard enough to hurt as she wailed, but it didn’t because she couldn’t feel anything. It was like her entire body had shut off an entire sense and the others were thrown completely out of wack because of it.

And she didn’t know why she was crying exactly, there seemed to be too many reasons and not any all at once, but she gathered that it was one of those instances where now that she’d started it was going to be really hard to stop.

Those were really the only circumstances under which she cried, especially now that she was in space with a ship full of teenage-ish males and two very parent-like aliens, after going so long without crying at all only to lose it over absolutely nothing and somehow end up crying about everything.

But this was sort of different. Because she felt so much more wrong than just an overdue cry.

She didn’t have much more time to deliberate this because there were voices pulling her out of her daze. Shiro was knelt in front of her and Keith was back.

“There you are.”

Shiro moved one hand to her shoulder and she shrunk under it, her eyes wild and fearful as she could feel the weight of it, but nothing more.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me,” he said as he moved to sit beside her against the drawers of the desk.

“Keith said you were getting really overwhelmed, so I’m here if you want—oh!” Pidge had rushed forward to bury her head in Shiro’s chest and his arms closed around her securely.

“I’ve got you, i’ve got you...” he gushed as he held her trembling frame, the tears still flowing freely and her chest still struggling under the immense pressure that had built in it.

She tried to ignore how trapped she felt, yearning for the usual ease that his tight embrace brought instead of this suffocating strain. She felt another scream bubble at the back of her throat as she let the weight of his arms take her somewhere almost worse, somewhere she wasn’t just struggling to breathe anymore, but now felt like she had absolutely no air to even try.

“Pidge?! Hey, talk to me, where you at?”

She pulled away from Shiro, his voice piercing her ears like a small explosion. He immediately retracted and searched her face for an explanation but it was just filled with fear as she drew her knees up to her chest, clutched her hands over her ears and tried not to give into the sobs until she had enough air to support such heavy crying.

But it soon became blatantly clear that she couldn’t get enough air in when her face had gone slack and her sobs had all but stopped except for the croak of her tired throat as she desperately tried to pull in air, the strong arms around her releasing completely now, more hands finding her back and tapping her shoulder.

“Pidge, you need to take a breath, the air is there. You’re—damnit it, you’re going to pass out if you don’t try. Is Lance on his way over? Okay, can you go get water and a...”

The rest was lost on her as black continued to impede her vision, Shiro’s usually warm and calming voice now just as sharp as the sting in her lungs and cut with worry. Tears still flowed down her cheeks to meet under her chin and continue down her neck, but they came silently, the hollow rasp from her throat as she struggled through irregular and rapid breaths barely audible anymore. She almost wished that she would just pass out already, let her body’s self preservation instincts break the unbearable cycle of panic it tortured her with.

But Shiro wouldn’t let her, he was just about ready to administer rescue breaths with how pale she had gotten before Lance arrived.

“Shit, Pidge, what the hell? You usually do so well with the breathing excercise I showed you... but it’s okay, this happens.”

Lance settled himself next to Pidge on the other side of Shiro and began to work one of her fists open, her hand was now lax for the most part, so it wasn’t hard and did the same with the other before putting his hand on her back while the other corded through her hair.

“I’m going to stretch your arm out so you can— damnit you’re really tensed up, do you think you can relax your arm a bit?” He questioned tenderly as he began gently easing her arm away from her chest, holding her hand while rubbing at the clenched up muscles as they released their tension.

“Yeah, just like that... you’re doing so good,” he murmured as he took her shaking hand up to his chest and pressed her pliant fingers down. After a minute she looked around lazily, her body still racked with trembling sobs before soft fingers were tipping her chin to meet a warm smile mouthing ‘hey’.

Shiro watched in a mix of awe and confusion as Lance handled Pidge’s crisis, ignoring the hesitation in his eyes because his voice was so steady and his so hands sure that it didn’t matter that he didn’t know in the slightest of what he was doing. He was just being him, this was his nature, to be able to read someone so well and provide them with such tenderness.

“Want to try and listen to how I breathe?”

She parted her lips as if to speak but a particularly pointed sob prevented it, Lance seemed to get the point though and shifted his legs around.

“I’ll let you settle in and you tell me when you’re ready for me to return the hug...”

Lance tugged on her other sleeve and guided into a cautionary embrace, his touch light and his hands remaining on her arms as she found the spot on his chest where she could practically hear his heart moving against his ribs, but... not quite.

Everything sounded muffled now, like she was under water but wasn’t prepared to take a deep enough breath before being shoved beneath the surface.

Except she was comepltely aware that she wasn’t actually under water. Like it was all a cruel joke where she was tortured while she watched everyone else around her breathe easily. Her mind still able to rationalize that even though she felt like she was, she wasn’t actually dying.

But Lance wasn’t flaunting the fact that he could breathe, he was trying to remind her how she could too. He squeezed her arms each time her hands tightened around the material of his sweatshirt, reminding her that she should be thinking about how his chest was working, pushing all the other junk in her mind away for now.

“Feel how my voice carries when I talk... how controlled each breath is... think about what you can feel and hear and touch... they’re things you can perceive... things you can control, don’t focus on what you can’t...”

Okay, he’s right. I can do that. Try to do that.

She shuddered through a round of hitches in her sobbing and pressed her face further into Lance’s chest, not even having the mind to worry about how wet it was getting with her tears.

Think about what you can feel...

She could feel the thumping of his heart even if she wasn’t quite hearing it at that moment, her mind making up the difference and leading her to imagine the sound it must be making each time it does... and how the air being pushed out through his nose must be whistling... and how the constant reverberations must mean he was... humming.

But then it stopped as he took a big breath and let Pidge rise with his chest as it expanded, sure to let it out just as steadily.

Her chest seemed to loosen then, her body rushing to take in as much air as it could before the panic spiked again.

“I’m going to hug back now, you let me know if you—oh, okay, I’m here, Shiro’s here too. You’re okay,” he ran his hands through her hair and pressed her tightly to his chest, his legs coming up to plant his feet firmly on either side of her as he began slowly rocking them back and forth.

It felt nice. He moved them carefully, slow enough that she could have been asleep in his arms and she wouldn’t have been disturbed, but also so securely that her mind couldn’t disappear the presence of his hands bracing her back and circling through her hair.

But the lull didn’t last long.

It wasn’t his fault, this is just how it went. When she got bad like this, the panic came and went in waves. If her body still had nervous energy left, it didn’t matter how much she managed to calm down, she would have to start from square one until there was nothing left in her to continue.

No!

Shiro was just as surprised as Lance when her voice cracked, the soothing sounds she was murmuring to herself as she worked her breaths closer and closer to normal broken by a wail.

Fuck!

Fuck you, fuck this, fuck—everything.

“-dge? Pidge?!”

“We’re still here, you’re still alright.”

“Give me a sec... there ya go, better?”

He’d turned her around so that her back was against his stomach and then held his hand up in front of her to show her before he closed it and lowered it to her chest, she knew what he was going to do and melted into him further as he began to rub gentle but firm circles over her sternum.

“Ahh... ahah, f-fuck,” she sobbed beneath him, she shuddered under the touch, her hands searching for something else, anything else to ground her and stumbling upon Shiro’s on one side and her thigh on the other.

She squeezed tight on both as she fought desperately not to slip again, feeling the way her body wanted to become light again.

Nope, we are just not doing that shit again.

She was so mentally done with this, but her body seemed to be losing energy too. She could feel it tiring, losing the warewithal to continue its draining overreaction. Turns out not having rested at all after their mission just to drop like this was a blessing in way, she was scared of how long she’d have been able to go if she wasn’t already worn out.

She forced her eyes shut and focused on Lance’s fingers, his knuckles pressing hard, but not hard enough to hurt. She’d almost wish he was. The rhythmic motion was heavenly because she couldnt ignore it as he kept the pressure there above her heart.

She gasped when she started coming back to herself, feeling the sudden shift when she seemed to be given the reigns back on her own breathing, sucking in huge gulps when she finally could control it.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good... listen to how I do it.”

Shiro was massaging the residual tremors out of her hand as he held it, the additional release of tension aiding in grounding her further.

She was faintly aware of the lab door opening but was too focused on not losing her pace, her breaths still manual and unsteady but a hell of a lot better than before.

“Oh...” it was Keith, he sounded worried.

She was confused for a moment before a hand was on her thigh.

“Hey,” Lance’s hand was at her wrist now. “Oh Pidge, don’t-don’t do that.”

Keith was trying to lift her fingers up but stopped when he saw that pearls of blood were starting to form beneath them and didn’t want his struggle with her to make it worse.

“Crap.”

“Pidge let—Pidge you gotta let go.”

The hurt in Lance’s voice stung. She wasn’t even aware she’d been doing that, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the iron grip, this peace was so tenuous and she couldn’t afford fucking it up.

When she didn’t respond Lance exchanged a knowing look with Keith who moved his hand under the palm of hers before both boys wrenched her hand up, surpressing how sharply he breathed when he saw the trail of red with sheaths of skin uprooted and purple crescents dotted about.

They sort of just stared, lost for a second, neither of them quite sure how to proceed.

“I got it,” Shiro offered as he took the offending hand from them, Pidge’s gaze still somewhere else.

There was a moment of silence before anyone talked or moved again.

“Pidge, hey. Keith brought water for when you feel up to it.”

Keith was kneeling next to them now, pouring cold water onto a rag and wringing it out before showing it to Lance.

“He’s got something cold to put on your face, maybe over your eyes? They must hurt...”

She blinked absently, silent tears making their way down her cheeks.

“This should help, ready?”

It took a second but she finally nodded and then the rag was descending on her swollen and bloodshot eyes. She jumped at first but he continued and once it was fully laid on it was bliss. The coolness calmed the angry puffiness and the pressure kept new tears from falling.

“I’m... gonna put something on your leg. It might sting, but it’s also cold so it’ll feel nice,” Keith said wiping up the small drops of blood that escaped the scratch wounds before pressing whatever it was down on top for a beat.

They weren’t bleeding much, the skin torn literally just enough to bleed. She also couldn’t really feel it, the area just felt numb and stiff. She hadn’t meant to draw blood, she just needed something that felt real to bring her back.

A spark of shame lit deep in her gut as realization dawned on her, she had hurt herself. Sure it was subconscious, but she still did, literally with Lance and Shiro right there trying to help. But she pushed those thoughts away.

She was far from perfectly fine, still working through the after shocks and residual anxiousness that followed. She sort of felt sick to her stomach and couldn’t stop swaying her leg back and forth as she lay against Lance, his grip as tight as ever, with Shiro still caging her unsteady hands in his.

Keith had gotten a blanket at some point to drape over her and kept removing the rag to re wet it with the cold water that she didn’t quite trust herself to drink yet.

“How ya feeling?” Lance murmured into her hair.

She hummed in response.

“Gonna take that as better, right?”

She nodded and then grimaced when Keith took the rag away once more and opened her eyes only to realize how much pressure had built behind them.

“What’s up?” Shiro asked when he noticed her face twisting up.

“My head hurts.”

“Hm, Coran has some sort of aspirin equivalent somewhere and... you could lie down, try going to sleep until dinner—oh! Hunk is making your favorite, he figured everyone needs a good meal after today.”

“Sounds nice,” she almost slurred, her head snuggling into the crook of Lance’s arm. She still shook as if she were cold, even with the blanket.

The three of them discussed something for several minutes but she tuned the conversation out, too busy relishing in how she could breathe again, only a small part of her worried about relapsing back into hysteria as the waves of panic returned smaller and smaller.

“Pidge? You awake?” Lance asked, trying not to eat her hair.

“Soooo, we were thinking of having dinner in the common room tonight, we think you should eat something before you turn in and we don’t want you to be alone just yet, also so you can be snuggled at all times... what do ya think?”

She smiled and scrunched her nose up with and enthusiastic ‘sure’.

“How bout I give you a lift?” Shiro smirked fondly as he squatted down and motioned for her to hop on his back.

They all had a good laugh at that, Keith and Lance joking about how they’ll never receive the same star treatment.

“I think it’s safe to say the meeting is rescheduled for the morning, sorry Lance!”

“Whateverrrr! The things I do for you, Pidge,” he laughed as they settled in on the couch, Hunk almost suffocating her when he was done serving their meal.

“I’m never letting go, I hope you are aware of that.”

“Not complaining, just... can I have my arm back? Thanks.”

“What was even on the drive—“

“We do not speak of... of that, Princess.”

“Pidge can run her diagnostics again before tomorrow’s meeting and then after that she’s on an electronic hiatus. Also everyone’s going to their rooms at curfew from now on, no exceptions. You people are humans and you need sleep!”

“But Shiro!”

“At curfew? Like at exactly curfew?”

“Yes Keith.”

“Space...“

“Lance. Lance, do not say it.”

“✨Space dad✨ has entered the chat.”