#I actually wanna make a female oc just to pair her up with

[chewysgummies]

I know she's a mean ass bitch and everyone probably hates her, but she deserves to be with someone better megawatt💖✨

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 5

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +7.4K 🤦🏽‍♀️

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), angst, P in V, oral (female receiving), Dom!Terry, CNC (roleplay fantasy "r-word")

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

6 months later ~ Halloween night

“Girl, why the fuck does this man have y'all stayin’ way the fuck out here?” Monica asked while driving. “That's the point. He knows I love the country. Plus, it so fuckin’ peaceful out here,” I said laughing. “’Vana, this is a serial killer's dream. Two black people in the middle of nowhere!” she blurted.

Tonight, we all went to a Halloween party as a group— Monica, Jordan, Terry, and I. The party was thrown at a warehouse downtown. It was fuckin' amazing. I had never had that much fun before. Terry even seemed to really enjoy himself, but he got sick at some point. He let me know that he was leaving early. I offered to go with him, but he declined. After he left, I tried my best to have fun but couldn't stop worrying about him. He wasn't answering my calls or texts which was strange.

I leaned over while sitting in the car. I unstrapped my heels and pulled them off. I was wearing a sexy schoolgirl costume that left nothing to the imagination. We agreed to dress up as a couple with Terry being a nerdy school professor. Our costumes made much more sense when we stood near each other, so I spent most of the night by his side.

Monica drove down the gravel driveway of the large farmhouse. Pulling to the front porch, I realized all the lights were off. It was eerily quiet— almost too quiet. Terry must have actually been sick if he had gone to bed this early. Monica's car came to a stop. She looked out into the field and stared at the barn. “This really is some serial killer type shit!” she said shaking her head. “Shut up!” I said laughing at her remarks. Monica was definitely on edge.

“I'm so done with you,” I said grabbing my heels before getting out of the car. “Just call me or text me. I wanna make sure you're safe. This shit so creepy,” she said scrunching up her nose and looking around. “Okay, scaredy cat,” I said leaning back into the window tickling her neck. “Terry is big and all, but not Texas Chainsaw Massacre big. Be safe!” she said. “Goodnight, whore!” I yelled as I turned and started walking towards the porch. I walked up the steps with the heels swinging in my hand. The front door was left unlocked because Terry had the only key. I opened the door and walked in.

I looked around the open living room in search of Terry. “Terry, baby? Where are you?” I yelled as I turned towards the hallway. Before I could move, I saw something flash across the large floor-to-ceiling window in the living room. I couldn't tell if it was a light or a reflection. I stood there for a second to see if it would happen again. Nothing. I shrugged my shoulders and proceeded to walk up the stairs. I was approaching the master bedroom door when I noticed a stain on the floor. It was a puddle of dark liquid. I couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled metallic. I leaned over in front of the door and hovered over the puddle. It looked like— blood.

I leaned up and quickly backed away from the door. I dropped the heels and held my chest. I turned back towards the stairs. I instantly wanted to flee but realized I didn't know where Terry was. “Terry, please. If this is a joke, this a fuckin' sick one!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. I turned back to look at the bedroom door. What if he was in there hurt? Shit!

I slowly walked back up to the door. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. I opened the door slightly peeking around. “Terry,” I said whispering into the room, “I don't like this.” I walked into the room, staying close to the door. I walked towards the center of the room facing the bed. The master bathroom door was cracked open with the light on. There was a smaller puddle at the bottom of this door. I wasn't liking this at all. My anxiety was pushing my heart through my chest. Every breath was feeling like swallowing razor blades. I inched closer to the door as panic was setting in. What if Terry was on the other side of this door? What if he was hurt, what if he was dead?

As I approached the door, I noticed faint marks leading from the puddle and into the bathroom— drag marks. No! I tried my hardest to level my breathing. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it open slowly. I opened the door to find blood splatter all over the bathroom and the tub covered in it. I almost screamed but covered my mouth. I started to back out of the bathroom. My foot stepped into the puddle by the bathroom door, soaking the bottom of my stockings. Tears were starting now.

As I lifted my foot to remove the stockings, there was a loud thud at the bedroom window. I didn't want to look out, but I had to know if it was Terry. I slowly crossed the room. The window had no blinds just a sheer white curtain. I pushed the curtain open lightly to peek but hopefully not be seen. I looked out towards the field at the rear of the house. That's when I saw him— a man. He was holding an axe over his shoulder. He looked like a lumberjack. THIS WASN'T TERRY! I stumbled away from the window unsure of what I just saw. There was no way this was happening. We didn't come way out here for this shit! I slowly leaned back towards the window to look again. This time I didn't touch the curtains.

He was still there, but his head was tilted up facing the window this time. The axe was resting by his side. He slowly raised the axe and slung it onto his shoulder. I could see there was something in his other hand. Before I could investigate further, he pointed towards the window. He could see me! He raised his hand above his hand and slung whatever was in his hand at the window. I ducked behind the wall. The object hit the window with a splat.

I eased away from the window to see blood splatter dripping down. I backed up towards the bed while still facing the window. Holding my chest, I tried to sort out what was going on. Then, I heard the sound of heavy boots thumping on the back porch. He was closer now. That's when I remembered the backdoor couldn't be locked from the inside. Terry had told me this earlier that day. But if the door couldn't be locked, he could just—. Before I could finish my thoughts, I heard the backdoor open and slam against the wall. The last place I wanted to be was in the room he last saw me in because this would be the first place he searched.

So, I slipped out of the bedroom door and hid in the guest room. I could hear his footsteps hitting the stairs as I closed the door. The closer he got; the louder it became. He paused at the top of the stairs. I heard his footsteps lead towards the room I left. While holding my breath, I heard him slowly open and close the door. I instantly began weighing out all my options. I could hide here like the typical dumbass— under the bed, in the closet, or behind a door. Or, I could sneak and hide somewhere else before he sees me.

Fuck it! I was trying my luck with the second option.

I stood near the door and slowly opened it. Peeking out into the empty hallway towards the other room, I turned around and tried to close the door slowly so it didn't creak. I turned back around and began tip-toeing towards the top of the stairs. Before I could get far, I noticed the bathroom door in the hallway open. I had this odd feeling that I was being watched. I didn't want to look, but I was too afraid to make any sudden movements. I pressed my back against the railing while closely watching the opening and the bedroom door of the room I left.

As soon as I reached the banister, I felt a presence behind me. I was right! He had never gone into the bedroom. He rushed from the open bathroom, coming straight towards me. He tossed the axe to the opposite hand with ease. The mask he wore covered his head entirely, so I couldn't see his hair, face, or eyes. I tried to run away from him, but he managed to grab the back of my top. I yanked away from him, causing it to rip. I stumbled down the stairs with him close behind me.

I knew better than to run out the backdoor. There was nothing but acres of open fields. The kitchen wasn't an option either as it was in the back of the home. I ran towards the front door, leaping off the porch. I sprinted for the barn across from the house. It was far, but I had a better chance of finding a weapon to use. The barn door was open. There wasn't an ounce of light inside. Fuck it! It was too late to turn back now. I ran into the barn and hid behind a mountain of hay.

He was cocky. He didn't even run after me; he casually walked. He treated this like it was an everyday encounter. There wasn't an ounce of worry in his demeanor. His shoulders were squared, and his stance was wide. He stood at the barn entrance, searching for any signs of where I went. He knew I was in here.

He rolled his shoulders and neck. He swung the axe back and forth at his side. He turned around, facing the barn door. He walked to the side and pulled the handle for the door. He slid it across the entrance. He was sealing me inside. There was nowhere to run, but the other door. It was closed, but I only needed an opportunity to run and enough gap to squeeze through.

Walking to the corner, he pulled a metal chain across the bar on the door and locked it. Now, I was LOCKED in. I had to get to that back door. I looked around me, but there was nothing. Had I really gotten locked in here with nothing to defend myself?

I eased along the slide of the bales, trying not to make a sound. I was short enough to stay concealed as I moved. I made it to the other end of the barn before he made another move. He was at one end and I was at the other. I realized that I could go for the door. It didn't look too heavy for me to pull.

All I had to do was get to the door, push it open enough to slip through and run. That's it.

I stood as close as I could to the wall. I took a silent deep breath. I peeked around to make sure he was still on the opposite side. I slipped past the hay and ran for the door. I could see him turn to face me. I grabbed the handle and pulled it as hard as I could. It wouldn't budge. I tried to push it again and again. Nothing.

I turned around to see him walking towards me. Oh no! That's when I heard it— the sound of a chain. This door was locked from the outside. There was no way I had just done this. I kept pulling at the door. I flattened my back against it, turning to face him. He wasn't moving any closer. He stood in the middle of the barn with the axe over his shoulder. I knew for a fact that I couldn't outrun him. So, what do I do?

“Please, just leave me alone. My boyfriend's here somewhere!” I yelled holding my arms in front of my stomach. He barked out the most sinister laugh I had ever heard, before stopping abruptly and going silent. “He's dead, you dumb bitch! You didn't get that from the mess upstairs!” he yelled. The world around me began to spin. He had said the quiet part out loud. Terry was dead, and I just didn't want to believe it. “What? I gotta show you his body for you to believe me?” he said walking closer. “No!” I yelled. “No!” he yelled mocking me, “You sound fuckin' pathetic.” I was crying even harder now. No amount of breathwork or grounding would save me from this. I was about to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “So, is this the part where you run again, huh? Save yourself the trouble, pretty girl. Just come here!” he said pointing in front of him using the axe. “Fuck… fuck you!” I said crying.

His body stiffened immediately. His hand gripped the handle of the axe tighter. “I said to c’mere. Right the fuck now!” he barked. I stood where I was frozen in fear. “If I gotta come getchu or you make me chase you, so help me God!” he spat. I pushed away from the door while slowly walking towards him. I had to try something.

As I moved closer to him, I shifted my path to the side of him. I didn't want to get close to him, but did I have a choice? I stopped a few feet from him so I was out of reach. “You do know that if I swing this fuckin' axe I can still hit you?” he said frankly. I looked between us. He was telling the truth. I wasn't stopping shit. If he wanted to get me, he still could. “Come on, pretty girl. Help me, help you. Stand right here,” he said in a calmer tone.

I still didn't move— I couldn't. No matter what I did right now? I was going to die anyway.

I looked down at my feet. “Is it the axe, baby girl? Tell me,” he said tilting his head. I looked up at the axe and trailed my eyes up to his face. I could sense that he was staring at me. “Look at me, lil’ mama!” he snapped. He seemed agitated with my antics, but I didn't know what to do. He was tall and appeared muscular. My short thick ass couldn't outrun him or fight him.

He waved the axe around wildly, slinging it away. It soared through the air and landed on the barn’s upper level. “See. I'm nice,” he said raising his hands. They were empty, but I wasn't stupid. I knew a man like this didn't need weapons when his hands could do damage and kill.

I wasn't any less scared, but oh well. I walked towards him slowly, holding my breath. Once I was in arm's reach, he grabbed my shirt by the knot in the front. It tore in half. He yanked it from my body, exposing my black push-up bra. I threw my hands up to cover my chest. He smacked my hand down. “Move your fuckin' hands!” he yelled, raising his hand as if he were about to hit me again. “I fuckin' dare you!” he grunted through gritted teeth. I dropped my hands by my side, waiting for whatever was coming. Why wasn't he doing anything?

“What do you really want?” I asked. I was tired of this sicko's games. “Does it fuckin' matter? It's not like you got anywhere to go,” he said laughing. He was faking his composure. He wasn't calm at all. His hands were flexing and his shoulders were tensing up by the second. Why did I let Terry talk me into coming out here?

“Arghhh… If you don't fuckin' move!” he yelled. Fear took over, causing me to take a step back. “You know what fuck that?” he said pulling out a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket. He pulled them over his hands and wiggled his fingers. His hands filled the gloves perfectly. He closed the gap between us in two quick steps. His chest was right in front of my face.

I dropped my head. There was no point in running. “Just do it already!” I yelled hitting him in the chest repeatedly. He stood there and took every hit. His body didn't move an inch. Nothing I was doing was even affecting this man. Angered because I was tired of being toyed with, I pushed him in his chest. He shifted a little. I pushed him again. He shifted back a little more. Before I could push him a third time, he grabbed my hands. He held my hands above my head. “Stupid girl. Was that fun for you? Aww, you're fighting the big bad man. How cute?” he said mocking me.

He released my arms. I looked down and rubbed my wrists. I was caught off guard by his hand wrapping around my throat. He lifted my body from the ground and pushed me against one of the posts on the barn. “If you ever put your fuckin' hands on me again, I'll snap your fuckin' neck! Understand?” he grumbled. His teeth were grinding, and his grip was tightening. “Yes!” I managed to squeal out. “That's what the fuck I thought!” he yelled, releasing his grip.

My body hit the ground with a thud. I held my neck. I was sure there was a mark or a bruise. I was leaning over on one side. He squatted down so that he was right in front of me. Reaching to touch my face, he stroked my cheek and wiped my tears. “You're too pretty to be cryin’, girl,” he said tilting his head to one side. He was just hovering over me stroking my cheek. It was as if he was in a trance. I took in a deep breath. He let his hand roam my body. First, he groped my breast. Then, he caressed my stomach. This didn't feel right. Why was he all of a sudden being so gentle— too gentle?

His hand went lower and stopped at the top of my skirt. He looked back up at me while his hand moved down to my thighs. He pushed my skirt up and began dragging his hand along my thighs. “Damn, I know he’ll miss this,” he said moving his hand up towards my pussy. I clamped my thighs shut. No way was he about to touch me there. His face shot up in my direction. One of his hands shot up and slapped me across the face. “Don’t fuckin’ try me!” he said grabbing my chin. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could tell his gaze was locked on my face.

While still gripping my chin and focusing on my face, his hand began moving again. His hand stalled and rested on top of my pussy. He hooked his pointer and index fingers around the crotch of my panties, tugging them a little. He tore them off my body, and I screamed as the fabric scratched against my skin.

I kicked him in the chest as hard as I could. He grabbed my ankle and yanked me towards him. I tried to find something to grab onto, failing miserably. My palms burned from being pulled through the dirt. “Stop, or else!” he screamed, holding my legs down. “Fuck you! If you're going to do it, do it! Bitch!” I yelled slapping him across the face.

I turned over onto my stomach and began attempting to crawl away. He grabbed the back of my legs, pulling me back towards him. I managed to snatch one leg away. He leaned forward and jumped onto my back. His hands flew to the back of my head, pulling my hair so my back was flush to his chest. “Yell! Scream! Go ahead! Nobody can hear you, dumbass!” he said in my ear, yanking my head up. “Let me go!” I screamed.

I couldn't keep fighting him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew only one of us would walk away from this, and it wouldn't be me. “You don't like living do you?” he said pushing me to the ground. My face hit the dirt. A metallic taste flooded my mouth— blood. I lifted my hand and wiped my mouth. I turned over, sitting on my butt. I pushed on my hands to get up. “Sit!” he screamed, knocking me back. I was tired of this shit. I wanted no part of this stupid ass game he was playing.

I pulled my knees into my chest and began crying. “Hell, nah! Shut the fuck up! The fuck is cryin’ gonna do?” he asked while grabbing the back of my head. He used his grip on my hair to pull me down before straddling me. “You know what? Maybe I was wrong. I like the way you look when you cry. Soft. Sweet. Defenseless. Scared. Yeah, I think I like this,” he said cupping my left breast. His hand wandered to my left bra strap. He pushed it down slowly before doing the same to the other side. “Take it off slowly. No need to rush. We got all night,” he said low. I didn't move. What was the point of doing what he said? Prolonging my ending life seemed futile.

He reached behind him and pulled out a hunter's knife. I stared at the blade, tensing up. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away. He grabbed my hands in one of his and held them above my head. He twirled the knife in his hand before pressing it into the front of my neck. The adrenaline in my body was pumping, and my ears were ringing. “Just do it!” I yelled, sobbing. His focus shifted back to my face. I could almost see his features spread into a smile through the mask. “Okay!” he said laughing. I felt the knife leave my skin. The presence of the blade still lingering behind.

With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes. I waited and waited. Every breath seemed to bring me closer to my last. I felt his grip on my hands tighten but still nothing. What was he doing? I wanted to close my eyes but was too afraid of what I might see.

I felt the knife glide across my stomach. I felt the blade rest on the fabric between my bra cups.

rip

He sliced through the front of my bra and began making quick work of the straps as well. I opened my eyes to see him peeling the pieces from my body. My exposed nipples hardened from the crispness of the Autumn air. He raised the knife to my chest, sliding it across my nipples. The cold blade stimulated the sensitive buds. I squirmed underneath him. This was feeling— I don't know. Was I enjoying this, or was my fear driving me insane?

I moved my hands and twisted my wrists. “No,” I whimpered. “No? You sure, pretty girl? I bet if I rubbed my hand through that pussy of yours, she'd be sayin' something else! Wouldn't she?” he said putting the knife back behind him. “Just…,” I said trying to tug away again. It must have annoyed him because it earned me another slap to the face. “Quit the bullshit, baby! Let's see!” he said, placing his hands on the button of my skirt. He unbuttoned and unzipped it quickly. While grabbing both sides of the zipper, he easily tore the mini skirt in half. “Clean! I like that. You came prepared for me, huh?” he said rubbing the mound of my pussy. The fabric of his leather gloves was like ice against my skin. He scooted back on his knees a little so that he was straddling my thighs more than my waist. He stuffed his hand between my legs, palming my pussy. He cupped his hand, trailing it through my folds. He dragged his hand up and down my slit, grazing my clt each time.

I was shocked by what I saw when he pulled his hand out. Cum! What the hell was going on? “Oh! That's lovely,” he said bringing the wet glove closer to his face mask. He drew in a deep breath. “Now, I might not be the smartest man but that looks like arousal to me. Don't it?” he said bringing the glove to my face. “ Yes… no… I don't fuckin' know!” I yelled. “You might wanna admit it, baby. You like this, huh? You dirty slut!” he said stuffing his fingers into my mouth. I gagged at the force.

“Don't say shit! Just suck!” he said, leaning over me. His face was right in front of mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath through the mask. I opened my mouth wider, telling myself to just do it. I sucked on the glove lightly. “You can do better than that! Come on! The better you perform; the longer you may live. Make me proud,” he said, leaning up.

I sucked on the glove again— a little harder this time. He let his finger roam inside my mouth. I let my tongue slither around each finger, causing his dick to jump. I felt it move against my thigh. I looked down to see a tent growing in his jeans. Shit, it was big! Oh, no. I couldn't be thinking like this. What would Terry think of me?

“Don't worry you'll see it soon!” he said drawing my attention back to him. I realized that I had been unconsciously sucking on his fingers. He pulled the glove from my mouth and smeared my saliva all over my face and lips. “Sloppy. I like it!” he said, lightly tapping my cheek. “Imma let yo’ hands go. Don't do no stupid shit, okay?” he said. I nodded my head yes. What the fuck could I possibly do in this situation?

He released my hands. I instantly pulled them to my chest and began rubbing my wrists. “I'm sowwy. I shouldn't have been so rough when you're so soft and…” he said trailing his hands down my chest to cup both of my breasts. The material of the gloves felt smooth against my nipples, causing me to let out a soft moan. He broke from his trance and focused on my face again. I know he heard it. Why was I moaning from this? What the hell was going on with my body?

“Listen to me. If you promise to be nice, I'll let you live. Who knows maybe you can be my sex slave or something!” he chuckled deeply. “As if I have a choice,” I whispered turning my head. “Well, you're right about that. Shall we begin?” he asked clapping his hands. “Begin?” I asked confused. All I could see was his facial features shift under his mask. He was smiling— no he was grinning. A big sinister grin was spread across his face. He was about to enjoy whatever came next.

He lifted his hips and repositioned himself between my legs. He grabbed the back of my knees and pushed them up to my chest using one hand. With the other, he undid his belt buckle and pants. He didn't even care to pull them down completely. I watched as he grabbed his dick at the base. I immediately knew where this was going. I tried to push my legs back down, but even when using one hand he was stronger than me. He leaned over me and slapped his dick on my clit. It was heavy and hard as a brick. “Remember what I said. The better you perform…,” he said letting his thoughts trail off.

In one quick thrust, he was inside me— deep. My arms flew up trying to push his chest. “Don't do that!” he cooed. “Behave. I promise to make it worth your while,” he lulled, dodging my hands. It was like he didn't give a fuck about me fighting back. He was too focused on—. “Fine. Have it your way!” he barked.

He grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. With his teeth, he snatched the glove from his other hand. He threw it behind him. I could feel his dick twitching inside me. He grabbed my neck and began pounding into me. I gasped for air. How was he switching back and forth like that? He was nice one second, then aggressive the next. This man was a fuckin’ psychopath.

His hips snapped into my ass. “If you want me to stop, stop me!” he laughed. I knew I couldn't. I had tried and tried again. “Come on! Do something!” he yelled in my face. I was done. My blood boiled and fear went out the window for a second. “Fuck you! Kiss my fat black ass!” I yelled pushing my thighs down as hard as I could. He falls back onto his hands. I used this as an opportunity to scramble away. “Arghhh, you stupid bitch! Tell me what’re you gonna do? Huh? You can't run. You can't hide. No one can hear you!” he yelled waving his arms around. Again, he was right. What the fuck could I do?

I sat there for a minute with my back turned away from him. I was on my knees crying into my hands. Each sob racked through my body. An idea jumped into my head— this would either kill me or save me. I didn't know what to do, but I did know what I had to do. ONE FINAL TRY.

I turned on my knees to face him. “So, you're saying that… if I… if I let you do it, you'll let me live?” I asked gasping for air in between sobs. “I'm a man of my word, love,” he said sweetly. I covered my body, waiting for his next move. “Fine! Just do it,” I said getting on my hands and knees and slowly crawling toward him. I was a few feet from him when he told me to stop. I looked up to see him twirling his finger. “Turn around. You're pretty and all, but I'm sick of your face,” he spat with disgust. I turned around and sat on my knees.

He climbed behind me. His presence alone swallowed my frame. I was a big girl, but that meant nothing right now. He pushed me forward. “Ass up, face down. Don't make me repeat myself!” he yelled smacking my ass. He was sitting between my knees with his hands by his side. I got on all fours in front of him. I heard him scoff and grunt. “Fix ya’ arch. If I gotta fix it, you're not gonna like it. Let's go!” he yelled.

I arched my back and pushed my ass into the air. Without realizing how close I was, my ass grazed his dick. He growled in response. I looked over my shoulder at him. “What the fuck did I say? I don't wanna see ya’ face. Turn around!” he yelled popping my ass again. I screamed out in pain.

“Oh, shut up! It didn't hurt!” he said laughing at me. I started to sit up, but he pushed me back down. “What you movin’ for? I'm just kiddin’,” he said playfully. This man was confusing the hell out of me. How did he expect me to react? There was nothing funny about this. I moved away from his hand before he could react. “Alright, damn! I'm sorry. You know what? No, I'm not. I'm sick of your shit, you disrespectful bitch! I’ve tried being nice to you, but you don't seem to give a fuck. Why should I?” he snapped while grabbing my hair. His other hand forced my ass to meet his hips. “We're gonna learn that attitudes don't work around here!” he said thrusting back inside of me. I could feel the thickness of his dick inside me. It was clear that this was turning him on.

I felt his hand slide up my back to my shoulder. He was pulling me back on him now. He was pounding into me like I was a sex doll. I could feel my pussy beginning to ache already. As if he could sense my discomfort, he paused. Letting go over my hair and shoulder, he placed both hands beside me. He was on top of me now. Fuck! I needed to get on my back.

He began to grind his hips into me slowly. What was he doing? He leaned over so that his mouth was near my ear. The mask was warm from his breath. “Better?” he asked seductively while fucking into me. It was as if his voice had changed, and lust had taken over. It wasn't raspy anymore. It was deep and soft— smooth like velvet. “Answer me. Is this better?” he asked, pulling his dick out to the tip. “Yes,” I moaned out. It was like I couldn't control it. It was starting to feel good. “Yeah, that's what I wanna hear,” he said, pushing his dick back in. He was kissing my cervix and bottoming out with every stroke. He was honestly fucking so well. I hated this. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but I couldn't help it. His dick felt amazing inside me. Every stroke felt like— love. How?

“That's right. Take it. You got it,” he said. My eyes started to roll in the back of my head as I could feel his dick swelling inside me. He leaned back up and grabbed my hips. The movement of his hips was slow and—. “Ahh, shit! Wait!” I said putting my arms out to the side. I flattened my body against the ground. I was yearning for something to grab. My hands dug into the dirt of the barn floor.

“Come on. I'm so close, baby. Fuck!” he said quickening his pace. His hips were snapping into me at this point. I could feel the gentle caress of his balls slapping my clit. “This pussy is mine!” he groaned, fisting the hair at the back of my head. He pressed my head into the floor.

As his hips shifted to pound down into me, he brought one leg up so that he was kneeling. My pussy began to clench around his dick. I could feel my climax approaching. The wetness of my pussy was working against me. He was sliding in and out of me with ease. My pussy was begging for a release. I needed to cum so that I could come to my senses.

His dick was throbbing inside of me. Oh, he was close, and I wanted him to c—. No, I didn't want that. I didn't want him to do that— not inside me, but it was TOO LATE! His hips snapped into my ass with force. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him. He held me there, releasing every ounce of his nut inside of me.

“Ahhh, fuck! That pussy was nice. Can I keep you?” he asked letting go of me. I let my body collapse onto the ground. “One more,” I said turning to face him. “What?” he asked confused. “I didn't finish. I wanna cum,” I said pouting. I needed him to trust me because I needed this plan to work. “Can't get enough, huh?” he said, pushing me on my back. I let my legs fall open so that he could see just how wet my pussy was. I needed him to lose focus.

“Oh, you nasty slut. You like this shit! Don't you?” he asked, slapping his dick on my clit. He rubbed his dick through the mixture of our cum that was spilling out of me. He sat his dick at my entrance. “Beg, bitch! You want it so bad. Beg for this dick!” he growled, holding his dick at the base. Pride was out the door at this point. There was no turning back. “Please, I need it. Make me cum. That's all I want. Just make me cum. You..,” I said but before I could finish he forced his dick inside of me. “Ahhh!” I said moaning out.

As much as I wanted to hate this, it felt so good. His dick was hitting every spot and scratching every itch. My pussy was creaming around him, and I was leaking like a faucet. He leaned over me, placing his hands on both sides of my head. I could hear our hips slamming into each other. I rubbed my hand up his chest. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. I could feel every breath he took on my face.

He threw his head back in bliss. I was chasing two dragons at once— an orgasm and the key to my freedom. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. I could feel my orgasm approaching. “I'm about to nut!” I yelled, gripping the back of his head. I placed my head on his shoulder. I could see it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE! I let my orgasm take over and began clenching and unclenching my walls to push him into his. His strokes got sloppy, and his hips stiffened. He dropped his head on my shoulder, letting his weight fall onto me. This was it— my only chance.

I slid one of my hands down his back while keeping the other pressed to the back of his head. “Stay in me, please,” I begged. I didn't need him to move. As my hand got closer to his waistband, I felt it— the knife! I gripped the handle and pulled it from his waistband. I pulled my legs under me so that they were pressed against his chest and kicked him as hard as I could. Knife in hand, I jumped on him before he could react. Pressing the knife against his throat, I began to speak. “Tell me why I shouldn't?” I yelled. “Because…,” he said, struggling to find an answer. “Take off the mask!” I demanded. “What?” he asked. “You heard me! Bitch!” I yelled back, pressing the knife deeper into his neck. I could feel his heart racing. Wasn't shit funny to him now. “Aight, damn!” he yelled while slowly removing the mask. His hands tossed the mask away from us.

What a sight?! I leaned in closer, turning the blade on its side. “Any last words?!” I snarled. He lay there quietly. “None. Fine with me!” I said, fisting the knife. “I just hope you know how special you are, Mama. Oh, and my girlfriend gone kick yo’ ass!” he screamed.

“Terry!” I said pouting. He grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “All you had to do was keep acting scared. Dammit!” I said pushing away from him. I was straddling his waist with my arms folded across my chest going into full brat mode. “I'm sorry! You said the code word for ending the scene, Mama. How was I supposed to know you wanted to keep going?” he asked grabbing my chin. “You ruined the fun,” I said dropping my arms. “Did I though?” he asked taking one of my nipples into his mouth. “You still got one more in you?” he asked, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no?” I asked leaning in to kiss him and dropping the knife.

He placed his arm around my waist and lifted my hips. He reached his hand between us, guiding his dick inside me. “Ouu, shit!” I moaned into his mouth. “Come on, Mama. You got it. Make Daddy proud!” he said smiling. I pushed him back onto the ground. “Here comes, Big Mama!” I yelled, giggling. I hopped onto my feet and started bouncing on his dick. My hips smashed down into his. I leaned over and began kissing his neck. “Let me have it, Mama. Let's go!” he yelled, smacking my ass. Terry let out the sweetest moan as his head dropped back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Fuck, I couldn't help myself. Look at him. Eyes rolling. Toes curling. Moaning to the gods. Yeah, I did that! Me!

“You like that? Huh?” I asked, placing my hand on Terry's neck. I pressed down on the front of his throat. Terry's eyes shot open and his hand reached for mine. “Don't you fuckin' dare!” I said, slowing down my hips and gripping his dick with every grind. “Fuck!” Terry said letting his hands fall. “Nah, look at me. Ain't that what you said?” I taunted while gripping his neck even tighter. “Ahh, fuck. I love you!” he screamed out. “Yeah, I wanna hear that shit. Eyes on me!” I said, mocking him. His eyes opened slowly as his breathing became ragged. I could feel his heart racing under the palm of my hand. I held the grip on his neck with the other.

The sound of my ass colliding with his hips echoed through the barn. “Give me it, Daddy!” I said, releasing his neck. I sat up straight and began to ride Terry like the stallion he is. “Ahh, that's… oh, fuck! Here it comes!” Terry said, grabbing my hips and holding me in place. His hips froze as he squeezed my waist. I felt every drop of his cum paint the inside of my walls. I giggled into my hand and said, “Oh, I'm not done!”

Terry's face was overcome with shock. “You heard me,” I said, rocking my hips. “Fuck it. It's all you, Mama,” he said, collapsing backward. “Oh, I know!” I said cockily. That's when I noticed Terry was smirking. “You just don't know when to stop, huh?” he said grabbing my hips and lifting me off of him. He pushed my body over his chest so that my pussy was directly over his mouth. His tongue immediately found my clit. I was definitely about to cum from this. His mouth covered the sensitive bud as he sucked.

I felt his hands rubbing and squeezing my ass. I fell forward and began grinding against his face. I felt Terry's lips curl into a smile. “I'm about to cum,” I announced loudly. Terry popped my ass and held me down, encouraging me. His tongue slithered along my entrance. He was missing it on purpose, teasing me. I whined like a bitch. Moans were leaving my mouth repeatedly. His tongue finally found its way into my pussy. I clenched as I felt my orgasm approaching. “Ah, fuck!” I yelled, leaning up and straddling Terry's face. He removed his tongue and began sucking on my clit again. That's what did it. I came all over Terry. “Ugh… mmm. Fuck, Daddy!” I moaned through my orgasm. I could hear him laugh from underneath me. “Damn you!” I yelled, climbing off of Terry's face. “I love you, too. Mean ass!” he said. “I guess I love you,” I said, laughing while leaning over to kiss Terry’s lips.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @ariiijestertheklown

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[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[tiredfox64]

Sooo I was thinking of Tomas trying to learn how to flirt because he wants to impress the reader however the reader (who has feelings in return) catches him flirting with another female Shirai Ryu member and mistakes it as he has feelings for someone else, cries about it to Kuai Liang who decides to help the reader out by taking her on a "date" to make Smoke jealous. When Smoke sees them together on their "date", he becomes consume with jealousy that fires him up to tackle Kuai Liang and bluntly tells the reader how he feels. 😅😅

It Should Be Me!

Prior notes: Oooh i like this one. I hope you don’t mind me using my oc as a place holder for the female Shirai Ryu member.

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader, and Kuai Liang is there I guess

Warnings ‼️: Silly goose, there is none! I think

Who fell harder: You or Tomas? Could be both. You sure do like each other a whole lot.

Conversation that last for hours. Training together even though he should be focusing on the others. Showing each other your favorite genres of music. Oh the memories get you kicking your feet and rolling around in bed. Everyone thinks you two would look cute together. A perfect match really. But one of you has got to confess already. Ah but it won’t be you.

You are brave enough to take a horde of assassins head on. Confessing to someone that you like them takes a whole different kind of braveness. A kind that you have to build up. For now you will carry on with the hope that no one else tries to take your man. Actually, now would be the usual time you would meet up with him. Get to it, honey!

You were about to round the corner until you heard Tomas. You stopped yourself, peeking your head out to see who he was talking to. He was talking to the new girl. There was something strange going on. Her giggling, his closeness to her, that look he was giving her, that tone in his voice. Oh no! He’s flirting with her.

You heard it, compliments about her eyes and how any man would be lucky enough to have a funny girl like her around. You practically felt your heart rip apart. It hurt to hear those words being told to another girl. You always wished he would say such things to you. A wish that may never come true now. To you it was already over. It seemed he picked another girl over you and you’re left questioning what did she do that you didn’t.

Your eyes started to grow watery and the last thing you wanted was for Tomas to see you cry over this. It was his decision on who to date, you can’t change that fact. You silently walked away while you sniffled and wiped your tears with your sleeve. The only person you trusted to share this heartbreak with was Kuai Liang. At least you knew he wouldn’t judge you since he’s not that kind of guy.

But wait! You made a mistake! You didn’t hear the rest of their conversation.

“Ah Tomas, you’re getting better every day with your pick up lines. Soon enough you’ll be getting more girls than Johnny does.” The girl complimented him.

“Aw thanks, Kris. But you know I’m only doing this for you know who.” He whispered the last part, unsure if you were around or not.

“Oh yes, yes, yes. Well I can certainly say that she will fall for your charm easily now, if she hasn’t already done so. When do you plan on asking her out?”

“Tomorrow. There’s a festival going on and I was hoping she would say yes to going with me. When we are there I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend.”

The look of Tomas’ face showed how enthusiastic he was to ask you out. He was clueless to the fact that there was some miscommunication before he could communicate to you. That girl was already hyping him up to go find you and ask if you wanna go to the festival tomorrow. You were already in Kuai Liang’s office when they were done talking.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“I don’t know what happened. I thought he liked me.” You cried into your hands while Kuai Liang just sat there awkward.

Therapist was not in his occupation but looks like he has to play that role for you. He is somewhat confused of Tomas’ actions. He thought his brother liked you a lot considering how much he gushed over you. If his brother changed his mind suddenly he had no idea about it.

Kuai Liang lightly patted your back to soothe you, “I am unsure of what to tell you. Just…please stop crying, it will be okay.”

He wasn’t being mean he just didn’t want anything bad between you guys. Kuai Liang conjured a plan in his head of what to do while still trying to soothe you. An idea popped up in his head. It may have seemed extreme but he wanted to fix the issue fast and effectively.

“Okay, how about this. I take you on a “date” to the festival tomorrow. Someone will tell Tomas where you are and the thought of being with me might make him realize he wants you instead.” He tried to sound confident with this plan like it could actually work.

“Your plan is to make him jealous?” You asked as your crying died down.

“I guess you could say that. Do you have anything better?”

You immediately nodded your head no. Even if the plan didn’t work out at least you could get out for once. Spending time wouldn’t be bad either. You just wished it was with Tomas.

Will you ever recover from this sorrow?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Plans were set into motion. You had your plan and Tomas had his. Tomas was preparing himself to ask you to go to the festival with him. He was all giddy and he came walking up to you with a warm smile on his face. His heart was pumping just thinking about you saying yes. His emotions made him miss the sour expression on your face.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you. I had something important to ask you.” He started off.

“Oh yeah…what is it?” You seemed dismissive but once again his emotions made him miss that.

“I was wondering if you and I could go to the festival tomorrow. I thought it would be nice. Plus I’d love to go out with a pretty girl like you.”

He thought his flirting would really get you this time. This should have been easy but what you said next shocked him to his core.

“No, I’m already going out with your brother. It’s a date.” You said it so casually before walking off as if you didn’t just crush this man.

How could this happen? This was a joke right? Yeah, this had to be. You were joking with him and you would actually come around later to tell him to come with you to the festival. Oh you’re so silly…right?

Tomas was in a daze throughout the rest of the day which continued over to the next. You saw the plan was actually working so you planned to continue with it. Though it still saddened you that he didn’t try to stop you already or ask why you were doing this.

Have patience, soon he will take action.

He was pacing around in his room, blabbering to the same girl he was practicing his flirting with about how you were just messing with him.

“I mean it just doesn’t make any sense. The two are close but never would I think they were that close. We are the ones who are that close. Oh what am I thinking? I’m sure she will be coming around soon and just tell me it was a prank and then we’ll go out there and I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend.” Yeah, yeah that should be right.

“Tomas.”

“What.”

“They’re leaving.” The girl pointed her thumb to the window where Tomas saw you and Kuai Liang leaving for the festival.

Tomas immediately bolted out the door. He didn’t care if he looked crazy to the other clan members for running out into the world, he had to catch you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You sighed in disappointment. The festival seemed wonderful with warm lighting around and yummy smelling food. If only you could’ve spent the time with Tomas. You kept walking with Kuai Liang, arms locked as if you two were on an actual date. He looked at you with a concerned expression. He was hoped this would go differently but he’ll do his best to make the most of it for you.

“I’m sorry about the outcome. I was sure my brother would come after you once he found out you were going with me.” Kuai Liang apologized since he didn’t want you feeling heartbroken.

“It’s not your fault. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.” Your voice cracked a little when you said that.

Kuai Liang brought you in a hug, having your head rest on his shoulders. He whispered to you that it will be alright and he’ll buy you some food. That should help.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Tomas was nearby watching you two. He really couldn’t believe you were out with his brother. When Kuai Liang pulled you into a hug it damn near drove the man crazy. He could never hurt his brother but this was the first time he has ever felt the need to destroy him. And when Kuai Liang started to rest his head on top of your head Tomas thought he was going in to kiss you.

A blaze of fury ignited in his body. Hell hath no fury like a man who is after a woman. By the gods he was pissed!

When Kuai Liang pulled away from you, Tomas saw that as the opportunity to attack his brother. Kuai Liang had no time to react as he heard the quick footsteps coming right towards him. His brother slammed into him, tackling him to the ground with a harsh thud emitting from the crash. Kuai Liang was in a daze as Tomas grabbed him by the collar of his uniform.

“How could you?! You know how much I like her! How could my own brother do this to me?” He kept shaking Kuai Liang.

Like? Wait, did you hear that right? Did he just say that he likes you a lot?

Tomas turned his full attention towards you now while still on his knees.

“Please don’t do this to me. Don’t go out with my brother. I’m the one who loves you. Don’t you remember all those nights we would listen to music together? I want to have many more nights like those but with you as my girlfriend instead of just being my friend. I love you.” He announced.

You looked down at him with shock. His eyes are begging you to accept his affection. His tone showed he was desperate and possibly even worried you wouldn’t date him.

“Bu-but I thought you were trying to go after Kris. I heard you flirting with her.”

“No,” he started to get back on his feet, “She was teaching me how to flirt. I was hoping to impress you. I just really wanted you to be my girlfriend and I didn’t want to ruin my chances.”

A blush crept onto his cheeks as he felt embarrassed for admitting that. He was also embarrassed that he was caught before and that the incident caused this great confusion.

Knowing the truth, your heart started to flutter as you realized he was doing all that just to get with you. In a way those words that he said to that girl were actually meant for you. He truly is the sweetest guy around.

You practically leapt onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips attacked his lips in a passionate kiss. You were overjoyed by the fact he wants you as his girlfriend. The extent he went through just to better his chances showed he is committed to you. This is like a dream come true for you.

Tomas was surprised by the hug and kiss but happily accepted it. His arms wrapped around your waist. This was a magical moment for him. It didn’t go as planned but he is happy that the outcome still gained him a wonderful girlfriend. He placed you back on the ground while smiling at you. And then he remembered what he just did to his brother. He swiftly turned around and saw his brother wasn’t lying on the ground anymore.

“He must have walked off. Don’t worry, he’s capable of taking a hit.” You tried to calm Tomas’ concerns which luckily worked.

“Yeah, that must be it,” He started looking around, “Well, I would hate to waste this opportunity with you. How about we explore the festival together. As girlfriend and boyfriend.”

“I would like that a lot.” You smiled at him as you two locked arms.

The night ended off on a good note. You enjoyed your time with Tomas at the festival. A warmth enveloped you as you recognize that this is no dream but a reality. A reality where you and him are happy. Just the way you guys both want it.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bonus ending

“Damn! You got knocked the fuck out.”

Kuai Liang heard a familiar voice speak to him as they grunted from yanking on his body. Warm liquid spilled on his face and when he opened his eyes he saw Kris dragging him while drooling over the grilled squid she had in her mouth. He grimaced as he wiped her drool off his face.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Like I said you got knocked the fuck out. Yup, Tomas done fucked you up.” She responded very casually.

“Kris, please refrain from cursing it’s improper. Now help me up.”

He expected Kris to do as he said but she just dropped him.

“What are you talkin about? It’s not improper. I’m just puttin some fuckin love in there. You can drag your ass back home yourself, grandmaster.”

He watched as she started to walk away, more focused on the grilled squid on a stick. When did she even have time to get that?

“Alright! You can curse. Just help me up.”

She listened this time and yanked him to his feet. Poor Kuai Liang, may the elder gods help him.

After notes: I got a 90 on my asl final yippie! And I should have been working on final papers but instead I was finishing this fic at school. Pick and choose, people, pick and choose. Now I better get my ass to communications even tho I hate it. Adiós!

[lovieku]

GOOD LUCK, BABE! #1 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 10.4k +

☾ warnings: female oc named eunbi. explicit language. alcohol consumption. lots of flashbacks. mentions of menstrual cycle. misogyny (not jk). jk is one year older than eunbi. jk is a biker!! he doesn’t have tats and piercings though, that will come later. they’re currently in uni. jk is a film production student. eunbi is a literature student. awful abuse of italics. check masterlist for more!

☾ author’s note: hello!!! this is my first time doing this so please bear with me! english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, if so please let me know. just in general, feedback is very appreciated :) as i mentioned, i never posted on tumblr before nor wrote an au in english so im kiiinda nervous about this… but i swear ill try to bring my idea to life in the best way possible and i wont make you regret reading this hehe… Also!!! each chapter is named after a song that reminds me of them <3 i hope you come to love eunbi and jeongguk as much as i do, maybe with time… thank you !

indexㅣnext

one ⋆ come back to me

Sitting across the table, he stares at her. The light of the twenty birthday candles reflecting in her eyes, the people surrounding her, his own friends. As she’s blowing out the candles, he wonders what she wished for. Does she ever wish to go back in time? Does she think of him, of what once was? Does she regret what happened? Jeongguk scoffs at his own thoughts, looking away from what’s in front of him. It makes his blood boil. How could she just forget?

“Did you even wish Eunbi a happy birthday?” It’s Dahye blocking his line of vision now. He looks up from where he’s sitting, pout on his face and eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Why would I? Would she ever do the same for me?” She would. Jeongguk knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help it.

His friend rolls her eyes, unspokenly conveying just how tired she is of this constant snubbing between Jeongguk and the birthday girl, “So you came to her party to do what? Sit here and burn holes into her skull? Fucking grow up Jeongguk, you’re being childish.” She forces him to get up, but as he does he’s not sure he can handle this whole situation for much longer.

Everyone is hugging her, but it all feels so fake. Her smiles and squeals directed to everyone else but him. He doesn’t even know why he’s still here, doesn’t wanna be part of this farce. He feels out of place with his own people. Why did she have to ruin this one thing he had created? Why did she have to be so likeable to everyone? He can keep lying to himself, arguing that there’s no actual reason, but he knows first hand that it doesn’t take much to become fond of her. She could be spotted in a million people. She’s effortlessly glowing, radiating the light of a thousand stars, and the light burns everything. It burns his eyes, his skin, his heart.

Jeongguk has to look down at his hands as he squeezes them into fists, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He’s letting anger take over, but he knows deep down what he truly feels is sadness. Helplessness, even. He looks up just to find her staring back at him, and is he reading hope in her eyes?

He needs to get out. Being in her presence isn’t healthy for him, especially on what’s supposed to be her day, her night. He can keep being resentful, but he knows he doesn’t want to ruin that for her. Walking away from the table, he reaches the backdoor of the pub and searches for a cigarette in his jacket. Stress is clouding his mind and he just needs to relax. Breathe.

In his pocket, he doesn’t only find the pack of cigarettes he’s now desperately trying to open, but also a reminder of how delusional he truly is. Jeongguk stupidly thought he could maybe muster the courage to go up to her and give her a little gift, just a sign of politeness, he thought to himself as he fished it out of a forgotten memory box. He knows ever since they saw each other again they’ve been acting petty. Purposefully ignoring each other as if nothing ever was. He thought he could at least put an end to this. Hand her a bracelet he still keeps from their childhood as a request for a truce.

Jeongguk shakes his head and scoffs. He feels crazy. Insane, even. Is he really the only one thinking so much about how weird this whole new dynamic between them is? He knows they haven’t seen each other in years, of course things have changed, but why is she acting as if he is at fault? As if he’s the one who should apologise? He fumbles with the cigarette and struggles to keep it still in his mouth. Just then, he realises he doesn’t have a lighter on him.

”Fucking hell,” he looks up, maybe searching for help, talking to something greater than him. “Why do you hate me, God?”

”Bad day?” Jeongguk startles. He knows that voice. Turning around, he guessed exactly who it belonged to. She takes out a lighter and puts it between them, waiting for him to take it. Such a small gesture seems to mean infinitely more.

”Uh, thanks.” Jeongguk is aware of how pathetic he sounds right now, voice small and low. “Um, happy birthday. I guess.” I guess? What the fuck?

Eunbi chuckles, amused by the way he’s acting. He swears that makes him even angrier, he feels like fucking screaming. “Thanks. We’re eating cake. Come back there when you’re done?” She stands there a few more seconds, just staring at him. She expects Jeongguk to say something, anything. Even give her a smile, a nod of his head. None of that happens.

With her hair styled in a half ponytail, perfectly tied at the back with a white bow, she nods to herself and walks away, leaving the lighter in Jeongguk’s hand. He’s left speechless. That’s their first proper interaction after years. That’s all they could say to each other. He feels the hole in his chest, that he had managed to almost fully close, reopen at such a rapid speed, and he feels the urge to get out of that place immediately. Like hell he’s going back there.

Cigarette long forgotten, Jeongguk throws it somewhere in his jacket’s big pockets along with the lighter, and tries to make himself unnoticed while he frantically searches for the exit. Why the fuck are there so many people out drinking on a Monday night?

He feels bad for leaving his friends without any warning but he’s afraid one more second here could cause permanent damage to his brain. There's no point in staying any longer whatsoever.

“What a fucking waste of time.” Muttering to himself, he pushes the door open and walks ahead, keeping his head low while fishing for his bike keys in his jeans.

“Jeongguk?” Of fucking course, he thinks as his eyes close for a second, searching for the little patience he had left. Eunbi’s voice fills the much quieter parking lot outside the pub, the sound echoing and making him stop in his tracks, helmet already in his hands as he turns around.

“You're leaving?” If he didn't know her (and he would argue he actually doesn't anymore) Jeongguk would think there's a cloud of sadness in her voice. He slightly shakes his head and looks behind his shoulders. Scratches his head. Anything to escape what is happening.

“Yeah, it's quite late. I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow. Don't wanna miss it.” He's lying. He doesn't have lectures on Tuesdays, and even if he did, he's no stranger to skipping classes. He doesn’t care if the girl knows all about his ways. Hell, being in the same uni friend group doesn’t actually allow to really avoid seeing each other every fucking day of the week.

“Right,” she nods, kicking the pebbles under her feet. He notices she chose to wear Converses even under the flowy white mini dress she has on, and they still look like she never cleans them. Then she hesitates, “Wait a second? I’ll bring you a piece of cake to take home. It's your favourite, double chocolate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even give her a nod of his head. The birthday girl looks like she’s waiting for it though, some sign of reassurance. She’s left with none of that again, and figures she should be as quick as possible to avoid Jeongguk leaving without knowing she truly appreciated him being here.

He scoffs at the sight he catches a glimpse of through the pub’s window, the girl frantically recovering a piece of the dessert she claims she knows it’s still his favourite — it is. At that, he almost thinks of waiting for her. Almost. He doesn't, his petty nature taking over. He hops on the bike, helmet on, revving the engine to finally get the fuck out of there. No waiting, no warning. After all, it's not like she'd ever warned him before disappearing.

Jeongguk feels absent for most of the ride back to his cramped rented flat. Dissociated. Mind full of thoughts (and maybe regret) but body so relaxed and at ease because of the gentle summer breeze brushing his skin. It’s nights like these that take him way back, places in his brain that he’s sick of visiting. Jeongguk actually doesn’t remember a lot, doesn’t keep on too many memories of his past. Instead, he thinks he’s probably cursed with having every moment with her carved in his head, from the first time he saw her to the last.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mom, I'm going outside!” A ten years old Jeongguk rushed down the stairs, hands full and voice shaking with excitement. Once again, he gathered as many toys as he could and his trusted camera to go play outside the porch.

Laying on the sofa, his mom was concerned Jeongguk would fall with how eager he was in his movements, “Alright baby, stay off the road though!” The apprehension was short lived, the woman letting a sigh out of her mouth, knowing taming little Jeongguk was mission impossible.

Nonetheless, Mrs. Jeon had always believed her son to be very intelligent for his age, both academically and emotionally. He had already developed a great sense of responsibility and empathy, especially towards his peers, so she never once doubted his actions.

On the other hand, Jeongguk felt a sense of loneliness. Being an only child during summer meant many things, one of them being the fact that he was bound to be alone most of the time since schools were closed. And so he would do what he liked the most. He would go out and film.

Usually, the subjects were his own mother, or father. But sometimes he enjoyed making scenarios on his own, pretending to be a great director and moving his actors — his toys — however he wanted, “One, two, three… action! We're rolling!”

His passion for photography and movies had grown increasingly over the past year, also due to him finding his new favourite thing ever in an old box of his dad, a Samsung SCD71.

As Barbie was about to finally kiss Ken under an imaginary stormy downpour, which Jeongguk was trying to make as believable as possible, a sudden noise had completely obscured the microphone of the camera, probably making the recording unusable. “What’s going on…” Jeongguk directed the camcorder towards the origin of the annoying sound, and through the lenses he caught sight of a moving truck that had just parked on the road. More specifically, it stopped in front of the house next to his, which he had learnt to be empty. Up to that day, apparently.

Curiosity had always been one of the most striking and dominant aspects of Jeongguk's personality, which he probably got from his dad. Camera hanging around his neck, he got up, hopped the fence and got closer to the truck, still careful not to get on the road, just as his mommy had advised him.

Jeongguk came closer, spotting a girl about his age carrying a box double her size. Her voice could be heard, even if suppressed by the weight of those items, “Mom, why do I need to carry these things, they're so heavy!” The girl whined fruitlessly, her mom going on about how she was just being dramatic, “Eunbi, just leave it on the porch and your dad will take care of it.”

To Jeongguk, it didn’t look like the kid was being dramatic. Those boxes seemed hard to even pick up. He bit his lip deep in thought, so much he didn’t even realise his feet moving on their own and getting even closer to the scene. Before he knew it, he asked, “Do you need help with that?” He felt the urge to lend a hand, just because that was in his nature.

The little girl was startled, almost losing balance at hearing a stranger’s voice directed at her. She couldn’t see who it was because of the box limiting her view, but she figured it didn’t belong to someone much older than her. When she put the carton down, she got confirmation that she guessed right. Still, her first instinct was defensive, “Huh? Who are you? And no, I don't need any help, thank you.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to be startled. Initially left speechless, he tilted his head at being rejected when he was just trying to be nice. No problem, he’ll try again, “Oh, okay but… you were just saying the box is heavy?”

The snappy girl furrowed her brows, seemingly much mature for the age she was showing, “Yes, but that doesn't imply that I can't carry it.” Arms crossed, she looked proud of the reply she came up with, but really was just waiting for her dad to do something about the weighty box.

Tilting his head to the other side, Jeongguk reminded the girl of her little black poodle she had to leave back in her old town with her grandma. Big brown eyes and long hair, the boy pouted in thought, “Im- imply? What's that?” What can he say, he had always preferred scientific subjects.

“Whatever.” Eunbi — was that her name? — looked around in hopes to find her parents, who were inside, busy unboxing the most important items to get the long process of moving out started. When she stared back at the boy, she sighed, “I guess you can help me.”

Jeongguk chuckled contentedly, suddenly very pleased with carrying heavy things for a girl he didn’t even know. “What’s your name?” He tried to make conversation while they both went back and forth with the cartons, a silent competition between them on who was faster.

”I’m Song Eunbi… you?” Both too tired to keep carrying other stuff, they sat down on the stairs of the door to her new house, which she didn’t seem that excited about.

“Oh, I'm Jeon Jeongguk, I live next door. I came here because of the noise, heh.” He smiled a big one, showing his teeth and almost fully closing his eyes. That caused the younger one to smile too, starting to let her guard down. With the boxes out of the question, she noticed a big object hanging around his neck, “Woah… what’s that?”

She reached to touch the Samsung camcorder but he was quicker, grabbing it and tugging it to his chest in a protective manner. The pigtails girl retracted her hand, a slow pout coming on her face but not fully developing, because before that could happen Jeongguk had recovered with a jolt of his head, “Sorry, don’t like people touching it. It’s a camera. I use it to record and stuff. You wanna see?”

Eunbi didn’t reply, wary of the device in Jeongguk’s hand, and she just watched him maneuver it as if it was his job. When he gasped, she returned the attention to his face, “It was still recording. Forgot to turn it off…” He seemed more as if he was muttering to himself, but then he also shifted his gaze towards her.

Lifting the lenses up to his face, Jeongguk pointed the camera towards his — hopefully — new friend, “Do you wanna say hi?” He zoomed in and out, focusing on the background then on her. “Huh… hi.” She smiled sweetly and the boy remained on that view for more seconds than necessary, before ending the recording.

The initially grumpy girl seemed to share that same curiosity that characterised Jeongguk so well, because she eagerly started asking the older kid questions about the camera, and he easily complied.

They spent the next two hours watching Jeongguk’s self-directed short movies, in which Barbie was always somewhat saved by Ken; and then Eunbi was so inspired by that, she tore open her toy box and instructed Jeongguk just how to direct the sequel of one specific film he had showed her.

His mom was scared, to say the least. Opening the front door to call Jeongguk for dinner and not instantly seeing him. Panic, panic, panic. None of that was occurring in Jeongguk’s head, though. He was so excited to have new toys that he could use to fulfil his director dream, and Eunbi seemed happy too. Together, they created the most original stories that the only child could surely have never come up with on his own.

When Jeongguk thought he heard his mom’s voice, for the first time throughout those endless hours he lifted his head up from the camera. “Baby! Oh, thank God, I was so scared.” His mom came rushing towards him, holding his head to her chest.

Toys dropped to the ground, Jeongguk looked at his mother and the clear height difference made him also aware of how dark the sky had turned compared to when he first walked out his door.

“We were just about to come around!” At that exact moment, Eunbi’s parents walked down the stairs of their porch to greet Mrs. Jeon, “Our pleasure, you must be Jeongguk’s mom?”

The mentioned lady only nodded her head, anxiety still struggling to leave her body after thinking she just lost her only son. “I am… Um, I’m sorry about him,”

”No, don’t even!” Eunbi’s mom interrupted, “He’s been nothing but a sweetheart. We would love to have him, you and your husband over for dinner this week. We just moved in and it’d be nice to make friends.” She admitted, slightly embarrassed that her flow of thoughts made her say that out loud.

While the adults were sharing adults-stuff talk, Jeongguk managed to escape his mom’s embrace and go back to his new friend. He pointed the camera to himself, “I’m sorry, my dear public, but the movie has been interrupted.” Jeongguk announced with the saddest voice, looking over at Eunbi who nodded just as dramatically.

Now with the lenses on her, she sighed, “Yes, sadly. Will Barbie save Ken from the zombie apocalypse?” She sounded genuinely upset they didn’t get to find out, “I guess we’ll never know.”

They did find out. Made another four sequels that summer. Jeongguk will forever hold that to his heart as the best he’s ever had, the first time in his 10 years of life he spent the scorching season with a friend by his side, making the heat and the boredom bearable.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Are you even listening to me?” Jimin looks at Jeongguk, annoyance clear on his features when he notices the younger one isn’t paying attention to his rant about cafeteria prices being ridiculously high. They had decided to try and get some assignments done in a coffee shop that had just recently opened, but actually ended up talking about anything but university. Jimin waves a hand in front of the brown haired boy’s face, “Earth to Jeongguk?”

The mentioned boy shakes his head, lifting it from the palm on which he was resting his cheek, “Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Jeongguk hadn't meant to space out, but lately it seems like it's been easier to get lost in his thoughts. Jimin's eyes soften visibly as he sighs.

“It was nothing important,” now that the blonde guy has his friend’s attention again, he thinks of shooting the question he’s been careful about asking. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come out tomorrow evening. The whole group is going.” Hope fills Jimin's voice and he forces his biggest smile, knowing convincing Jeongguk to go out these past weeks had been close to impossible.

Jeongguk studies his best friend’s face, squinting his eyes suspiciously, “Is she gonna be there?” Such a simple question completely shutters the already minuscule hope Jimin had left.

Still, the blonde head tries to act unbothered, “I did just say that the whole group is going too.” He searches for the younger’s eyes but it looks like he’s already set on a firm answer.

“Then no.” Jeongguk replies, his eyes low on the table, picking up every uninteresting detail he can catch. He knows there’s no actual reason for him to reject Jimin’s invitation. He also knows it’s been a while since he started being this difficult over simple matters he wouldn’t have stressed about months ago. What he doesn’t know is since when he started feeling like he doesn't belong among his own friends. Or better, he does, yet he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

The older of the pair sighs, fixing his hair and trying to find a solution to his friend’s sudden change in demeanour, “You know, you really should talk to her. Sort this thing out between you two.” His voice is careful, almost too delicate. Jimin had always been a big advocate in the truce between the two, if there had even been a war to begin with, yet never managed to make Jeongguk reason with him.

No matter how gentle Jimin was trying to be, he still gets an unwanted reaction from the other man, who now crosses his arms on his chest and furrows his brows. “Oh, so I should be the one to talk first. Why can't it be her? No one ever thinks of the way I’m feeling.” Once again, Jeongguk is being unreasonably difficult. He hates the words he chooses as soon as they come out of his mouth.

Jeongguk knows his friends deeply care for him, especially the one in front of him. They had been glued together since the day they met, now even sharing an apartment. They weren’t totally compatible for multiple reasons, but that’s probably why they became so close. They both added elements that were missing to each other and created a smooth dynamic, a connection able to transcend many barriers.

That’s why Jeongguk knows he can be as childish as he wants, because Jimin will always find the right words to put him in his rational mind again, “Guk, what I’m trying to say is… This is genuinely not healthy for you. You’ve been stressing so much over this and detaching yourself from the others.”

The brown haired boy keeps eye contact with his friend now, no longer escaping confrontation. He’ll admit he’s tired of running. Jimin really hopes his eyes can help his words convey how he feels about this, “They’ve asked me if you’re okay, you know. They noticed. They miss you when you’re not there.”

Hearing this makes Jeongguk bite his lip and look away in thought. He’s never been like this. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like this. Feels terrible knowing his friends have probably interpreted him being more absent in a completely wrong way. No one else knows about the real reason, except Jimin.

He feels stupid when he realises just seeing her again had taken such a toll on him, when really he loves being surrounded by his people. The people who have been by his side this past year, who made university bearable, with whom he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Now, one of them is in front of him, trying anything to get him to say a simple yes, “C’mon? It’s gonna be fun, we can just be on our own if you w-“

“Jimin. It’s okay. I’m coming.” He doesn’t know if it’s an impulsive decision, but seeing the incredulous smile on the blonde guy’s face makes him not dwell too much on what he just agreed to.

Jimin scoots his seat closer, putting his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, “Really? You’ll come?” Seeing the other boy just nodding at his questions, he makes a sound close to a squeal and claps his hands, “It’s gonna be so fun. The best party we’ve ever been to. I promise!”

The younger one just laughs while Jimin goes on about how he has to update the group chat on Jeongguk’s presence and, “Should we plan our fits? I was thinking of wearing that shirt Hobi lent me that I never gave back.”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely surprised that his presence could lift Jimin’s spirit up so much. He has been too harsh on himself ever since she made her appearance, thinking it wouldn’t make a difference if he was there or not for the others. Fuck her. Those are his friends too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As soon as he heard the house phone ring, he picked it up. There could be three possible people calling: his aunt, his grandmother, or Eunbi. Guessing by the time displayed on his computer, it had to be the third. With how much the two of them spent talking over the phone (even if they lived next to each other) Jeongguk had asked his mom to get him a desk phone of his own, so it could be easier to call.

Pausing the game he had been close to finishing, he moved the device to his ear, “Hello?”

“Jeongguk…” Noises close to sobs could be heard on the other line, making the boy worry. It was definitely his neighbour’s voice, but something about it was not right.

With his eyes unconsciously wide open, making them bigger than they already were, he got up from his seat on the desk, “Bee? Everything okay?”

Silence was what he was met with initially, until he could hear sniffing and shuffling, “Huh… I don’t know. I think I got the… thing.”

At that, Jeongguk slowed down. Panic slowly left his body, which automatically sat down again on the chair. The boy almost didn’t consider a very important feature characterising his best friend: her being totally over dramatic about anything slightly outside of her usual routine.

If one single hair was out of place; if someone didn’t agree with her; if Jeongguk picked Toad instead of his usual Luigi in Mario Kart. Little meaningless actions that could get Eunbi to either yell, cry, or both.

When anything of the sort would get that reaction out of the girl, Jeongguk would do the most to be an absolute menace and make it ten times worse, just because he enjoyed bickering with her.

However, he knew not to do that in situations like these, when he didn’t know if she was genuinely hurt and needed some sort of comfort, protection. That’s why he did his best to understand the situation, “What… thing are we talking about exactly?”

“I… This is disgusting. But my parents are out, I’m home alone, and,” she sobbed “I need diapers but like, for women.” Another hiccup escaped her.

The boy on the other side didn’t know how to react. Had a vague idea of what could have happened but wasn’t that confident to assume, “What the heck are you talking about.”

“Jeongguk! Just get me those things and come here!” The line got cut abruptly and for a second Jeongguk sat there, just listening to the endless beeping. It resembled what was happening within his brain cells. Think, think, think.

He was pretty sure he saw his mother buying diapers-like stuff, came across them a few times in the bathroom. Knew every time she complained about pain, his dad automatically went out to buy those for her; figured it’s what Eunbi needed and begged for.

Putting the phone down, he sprinted to the upstairs bathroom, glad his parents were still downstairs, probably watching those game shows they love, assuming from their laughter. Which is also how he thought they would react if they saw him digging through his mom’s drawer looking for pads.

He found two types, “Why do they make one for day and one for night…” As he inspected them, he figured he should bring both and let the pained girl try them on or something. Do they go by size? This is weird.

Jeongguk took everything he could find and put it in his backpack, hurriedly going down the stairs and just then realising he had to come up with an excuse to his parents’ questioning eyes.

“Huh… Eunbi wanted to show me a new game she got. I’ll be back in a few.” He nodded enthusiastically, more to himself for being so quick on the spot, and rapidly exited the door before anything his parents said could stop him.

When he rang the doorbell, the first time wasn’t successful. He unconsciously bit his lip and tried again, worried something might have happened. With his finger hovering over the buzzer for a third time, the door suddenly opened and a messy haired Eunbi pulled him in.

“This is insane. I’m only eleven. This can’t be happening, Gguk. I used Dad’s computer to look this up and it’s saying this comes every month. Every month!” His back to the door, the boy was held hostage by his babbling best friend on the verge of a serious crisis, “This is the end of m-“

“Jesus Christ, stop.” Jeongguk put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get the scared girl to stop panicking, “I got what you need. They’re called pads, by the way. Also, why do I know more about this than you?” The older boy knew he shouldn’t be pissing off his already very pissed off neighbour, but he can’t help it. Loved making fun of her.

Still, with Eunbi’s voice being surely audible even from outside the house, yelling at him for disrespecting her, he took out the women-diapers and handed them to her, “Listen, I’m not sure how these work. I can look it up online, if you w-“

“No, oh my god. You don’t wanna see what I saw. I’ll figure this out.” Tugging the five packs of pads to her chest, she nodded confidently. She rocked on her heels, lifting her shoulders up and then down releasing a long sigh, almost as if she was waiting for something else. Jeongguk exchanged her (not so) convinced nod, not sure what else to do, “Huh… Okay, go.”

“Yes! Right,” Nodding again, this time repeatedly, she turned around. Not even one step in, she spinned to face the older boy again, embarrassment dancing on her cheeks, “Um… actually, stand outside the door?” She smiled her sweetest one and, without waiting for an answer, dragged him to the bathroom door, closing it to his face but still talking through the whole thing, oh, I think it fits like this; no, maybe like that. This doesn’t feel so bad. Just sticky. Jeongguk wasn’t sure this was what he agreed to when becoming friends with a girl.

Twenty minutes later, the newly menstruating girl came out of the room, looking up at her best friend. He was glad something different was now showing on her face, something close to relief, “I feel better, Gguk. I feel like this is a new beginning,” which was followed by her endless ranting — review and all — on this new experience. She couldn’t believe she shared her first period with Jeongguk. Heck, Jeongguk couldn’t either.

“Why didn’t you just call your mom?” With a movie playing in the background, only after an hour of looking up “menstrual cycle” online, he genuinely wondered why he was the one there instead of her mom or one of her girl friends.

By the looks of it, Eunbi didn’t take the simple question that well, “I get it, you hate me, you think I’m annoying and-“

“God, you get what I mean when I say you’re over dramatic?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That version of Eunbi feels much closer to the one that’s in front of him right now, turned around and waiting in line to get inside the club all their friends decided to go to together. After agreeing impulsively, there was much rethinking on his side, but Jimin would keep begging him to just come, it’ll be a fun night.

Sure. There he is. Not even in, and already hating every second of it. It was not only because of her, Jeongguk just didn’t get the hype around dancing for hours and being suffocated by other sweating drunk bodies. To be completely honest, he dreaded these places. Now even more, having to witness Eunbi fighting with random men that take pissing people off as a hobby.

The worst thing that could happen to her already over dramatic personality is being joined by the origin of drama itself, Dahye. The latter is actually the reason why the now yelling girl became part of his friend group. In the middle of last semester, she had to look for a roommate and fate wanted her to be the last person on earth he wished to see again, especially in Seoul. However, they instantly kicked off and she got introduced to the others, which also included Jeongguk. Imagine his face when he saw her.

Everything led to this moment though, with Eunbi and Dahye entertaining the dumb, probably already drunk guys over an even dumber argument, “How are you judging me for drinking a Sex on the Beach when you literally reek of beer, the worst beverage on earth.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he’s glad or not that the girl didn’t lose her blabbering tendencies, the little kid inside him enjoying the bickering and seeing her worked up over dismissible issues. However, no matter if she’s discussing cocktails or science, he feels like keeping his guard up high this time, just because these men don’t look like they have the best intentions, and he doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. Anybody.

He’s proved right when they emit the ugliest laughs at Eunbi’s claims, with one of them getting almost all up in her face, which Jeongguk doesn’t like at all. He takes a step further, securing a safer spot behind the girls in case something happens and he has to intervene. You never know with the two roommates, it’s not the first time they’ll be causing a scene. It’s not because he cares about the shorter girl. He’s just worried about her potentially getting the group kicked out. Yeah.

Licking his lips, the bald guy (not even an inch taller than the girls in flat sandals) squares the Sex on the Beach girl up and down, doesn’t look like he’s close to letting the stupid fight go, “Let me guess, the cocktail, those shoes, the attitude… You probably study some dumb shit like Psychology, huh?”

Such a meaningless statement gets all his minions to laugh, patting his shoulders and making more comments amongst themselves. Dahye rolls her eyes, unamused by the whole act, “That’s not the outrage you think it is, babe.”

That only gets the drunk men to laugh more, Jeongguk squeezing his fists for a second and instantly reading the look on the other angered girl’s face, knowing she’s probably ready to turn this into the worst night of every present person’s life just for the sake of her degree’s reputation.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. It’s Literature, you dickwad. You know, you're single-handedly making engineers’ notoriety even worse than it actually is.” Jeongguk knows there’s no stopping Eunbi, but he wishes he could right now. He’s glad the girl is able to stand her own ground, but is also afraid this may end horribly.

The counterpart of the diss seems taken aback, his two brain cells struggling even more because of the alcohol in his body, “How do you know I’m an engineer?”

Having it served on a silver plate, the girl in her short dress smirks, “‘Cause you look like a fucking dick.”

The men feign their surprise, the guy that mainly entertained the conversation saying something along the lines of Wanna see?, pointing at his down area and snickering, while his friends act like he’s the absolute peak of comedy.

Jeongguk has to clench his jaw, not at all pleased with how the situation is escalating. He knows Eunbi can handle such stuff, but he swears he’s one more comment away from stepping in.

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind, not even thinking of backing up and showing the guy her pointer finger and thumb almost touching, indicating the guy’s size. Jeongguk slightly smirks. Then immediately wipes that off his face. He doesn’t find her funny.

“You know, this is the third time you end up talking about my dick,” the bastard is getting closer to his friends, and Jeongguk hates that. “You’re funny, you just need to be disciplined.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Eunbi doesn’t hesitate to invade the guy’s personal space too, holding eye contact, ready to literally throw hands if not for Dahye quickly catching her arm to move her away.

The bald head scoffs, before adding the filthiest shit his misogynistic limited mind could come up with, “If you ever need this engineer’s dick when whatever you’re studying leaves your ass on the sidewalk, you can come suck it for a couple of wons.”

Jeongguk sees absolute red for a second. He’s had more than enough now, putting a hand on Eunbi’s shoulder before anything more than an incredulous gasp could leave her mouth. He makes himself noticed, not that it was hard with his taller figure, taking matters in his own hands, “What the hell is your problem, man?”

When the mentioned guy diverts his eyes from the girl he just degraded and moves them on Jeongguk, he takes a step back. Still, he doesn’t stop his dirty mouth from running, “Shit, is she already busy with you? Sorry, man.”

His group laughs at that too, and the taller boy unconsciously squeezes his hand on the girl’s shoulder, clenching his jaw. “You’re fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.”

What his eyes convey is definitely stronger than the words he lets out, wishing he could destroy every bone in the guy’s body, who now knows to stop being so smart. He mutters a few more comments though, making it harder for Jeongguk to not act upon his violent thoughts, “I’ll give you three fucking seconds.”

That makes the guy lift his hands up in surrender and finally turn the other way, distancing himself even from his friends, who don’t find him amusing anymore.

Jeongguk thinks the whole thing is over, but of course he should have trusted his wide knowledge on the fussy girl’s behaviour more, and predicted that she wouldn’t have let it go so easily, “Oh, so now that a man broke in you shut up, huh? Come talk, you little pus-“

“Eunbi. C’mon. We have to get in,” It’s — strangely — Dahye who doesn’t go along with her roommate and instead directs her to the entry, assuring her how there’s going to be no more trouble and just a long night of fun. The other girl just scoffs, too busy looking back at those men to try and get them to react again, but when she’s inside and she loses sight of them she finds her eyes meeting Jeongguk’s, who is directly behind her.

The interaction is awkward, to say the least. She slightly bows at him in recognition, while he just nods and does his best to avoid finding her eyes again, resorting to turning around in search for Jimin, probably way behind with Hoseok.

He’s so thankful when he feels a pat on his shoulder, and looking to his side it’s Namjoon that pulls him into a side hug, “That was tuff, man.”

“Ah, nothing,” Jeongguk nods, adrenaline still struggling to leave his body and not allowing him to relax. He follows his friend’s steps even if they’re going in the same direction as the person he’s now even more than before trying to avoid. He didn’t plan to be this close to her for so long.

“I thought you hated,” the taller guy uses his chin to refer to the girl in front of them. “But here you are defending her.”

The other guy is glad for the loud music playing, the last thing he wanted was for the mentioned girl to hear. He also doesn’t want Namjoon or anyone else to think that was him coming in her defence. It was just common sense. Doesn’t know why he felt like breaking the guy’s nose though. Figures that’s common sense too.

Before he can justify himself, the remaining members of the group reach them, giving Jeongguk the chance to get away from the sight of the girl but still feeling a burning sensation on his tongue. The need to make himself clear.

The chaotic atmosphere is even more emphasised by his already tipsy friends telling him again and again how happy they are to see him here, shaking him by the shoulders with way too much enthusiasm. Now distracted by the earlier incident, he just jokes with them like usual, but he feels a nervous sensation creeping up his neck. With a drink in his hand, he tries to follow the music, but he can’t seem to focus.

When Jeongguk finds Namjoon again, who was already handed a drink by Jimin, he gets close to his ear, replying to his previous insinuation, “I wasn’t- defending her.”

The older guy furrows his brows at him, signalling the conversation being over and certainly not that important, “Sure, man.” Showing his thumbs up, Namjoon scream sings some lyrics at him, Jeongguk still feeling a bit uneasy. He just needed to specify that. He was not defending Eunbi. Well, technically. But Dahye was there too, and she’s his friend. Of course he would have done th-

“Ggukkie!” It’s Jimin’s voice pulling him away from his thoughts, but also pulling him closer to the floor, “I’m so happy you’re here! This is fun, no?”

Jeongguk nods and chuckles at his best friend’s horrific dance moves, just now realising how tipsy he already is but taking it as the opportunity to fully let what happened go.

The rest of the night is unexpectedly fun. He’s surrounded by great energy that his friends keep oozing, and he realises just how much he had missed laughing to the point of his stomach hurting. Shouting when the group's favourite songs came on. Chuckling at a way too drunk Hoseok trying to get him to move his hips a bit more. Of course, he should have predicted his friends’ main goal is to get absolutely shit faced tonight. He isn’t really in the mood for that, though enjoying the state of the others while too much alcohol is flowing in their bodies.

No drinking means Jeongguk’s social battery is running out much faster than the others’, not having enough energy to entertain the constant back and forth between his friends, and certainly to handle them not even needing one single break from the dance floor.

At some point during the endless dancing, he settles on just being by the bar counter, sitting on a stool and taking no more than a few sips from the drink Jimin had given him as soon as he had stepped foot in the club, which was hours ago by now. He doesn’t know why, but alcohol tastes awful on his tongue tonight and it’s a task on its own to even swallow it.

”Can I buy you a drink?” It comes from a silky voice on his right, close enough to startle him slightly before he recollects and takes in the girl looking at his face expectantly. She has soft features framed by smooth blonde hair, completely contrasted by her intense makeup and burgundy mini dress. So far from his type, but Jeongguk entertains it for some reason.

”Well, you stole my line there,” the smile he gives her is gentle but playful and it sets the girl into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by the mysterious dark guy sitting alone by the bar. And that’s exactly what she tells him, ”I had to give it a try, you get me? I love boys that look just like they need to be fixed.”

“That is absolutely ridiculous,” he genuinely laughs, and he’s joined by her. Jeongguk can’t lie, the conversation between them takes off right from the start. It’s a nice back and forth that takes his mind off things for a while, not enough to actually give into her flirty intentions, but enough to eventually move to the dance floor with her. She’s witty and he likes that about her. Abbey? Ashley? He clearly doesn’t like her enough to remember. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

He can’t bring himself to, especially when his line of vision falls right on a tipsy Dahye-less Eunbi next to what seems to be more than one guy. She’s laughing a lot and he’s sure none of what the men are spluttering can be that funny. It’s probably just the alcohol, and that is enough for him to keep him observing. Only to make sure nothing bad happens.

Abbey-Ashley must have noticed his sudden disinterest, and with boldness she wraps her short arms around his neck, bringing him way too close to her face than he had planned to be to any woman this night. The eye contact is uncomfortable, and Jeongguk is itching to keep checking on whatever was happening not too far from him, but the blonde speaks her wittiness again, “You won’t let me offer you a drink and you’re not willing to dance with me, is this how men feel?”

The pearly smile on her face lets him know the setting between them is still playful, so he just shakes his head letting a small giggle out of his mouth. Now with the woman almost hanging from his neck, he resolves on just going along with her moves, and when he steals a glance at the girl he was previously keeping an eye on and sees her staring back he feels a sense of unwarranted satisfaction.

He keeps searching for that, wanting more of that groundless feeling but all he’s met with is more and more flashes of her digging a hole he’s afraid she’s gonna fall in, with the men acting way too friendly and her drunk mind not noticing. Or just not caring.

When the blonde in front of him starts being a little too inclined on taking the physical contact further, he regrets not even finishing his previous and only drink of the night, wishing he could give in but knowing he can’t with his mind thinking way too rationally and being too aware of his surroundings. He genuinely thinks Abbey-Ashley is a nice girl, and he feels sorry knowing he’s going to reject her. Thinks it was kind of fuckboy-ish for him to go along with her knowing they’re on two completely different lines, but still doing it because it seemed like the quickest escape from his running mind.

He gently puts his hands on her waist, intent on moving her away and trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, when he hears his name being called and for the second time tonight, he’s glad Namjoon’s parents fucked. ”Hey, JK- oh shoot, am I interrupting something?”

The smokey eyed girl breaks away from her moment and seems suddenly very interested in hearing Jeongguk’s answer, batting her eyelashes at him in hopes of getting a different reaction from what she knows the evident one is going to be. She did know the brown haired man was not interested; she still figured she could try and change that.

Jeongguk moves his gaze from his friend to the girl and hesitates, “Huh… not really.” He gives an awkward tight lipped smile, thinking this is fucking embarassing, then tries not to read too much in Namjoon’s weirded out expression, “What’s up?”

“Everybody is leaving, Jimin and Dahye already did with Hoseok after throwing up on three sofas.” Namjoon scoffs, rolling his eyes amusedly, “Anyway, see you in uni?”

Jeongguk has a few questions he’s afraid to know the answer to, but still he daps up his friend and then inevitably searches with his eyes for Eunbi, the reason for his worry. He knows Dahye, her usual ride home, will kill him if he lets her roommate wander off with some random men while drunk. Hell, he himself wouldn’t let that happen. He dislikes the girl, but he’s still human.

Jeongguk stresses even more when he sees her directed towards the exit with said guys. He completely disconnects from what the burgundy dressed girl is telling him, only picking up a “Can I get your number, though?”

Maybe it’s his guiltiness acting, or just him wanting to find a quick escape, but he does share his number in surely unanswered hope that she’s going to give up reaching out to him eventually. That does get her to part ways though, not before a sneaky kiss is left on his cheek. He really wants to kill Eunbi.

His next steps are directed towards her, ready to re-enact his previous success at getting rid of those beer stinking misogynists, but he’s left surprised, and in some sense relieved, when he sees her standing alone, arms wrapped around her small freezing figure with her phone to her ear. When he gets closer, he’s able to catch her muttering nasty remarks towards Dahye, so bad that he believes her roommate can feel them right now, in her probably passed out state and all.

”Fucking fuck, why is she not answering,” Before she can dial her number for the fifth time, she spots Jeongguk on her right, and for the first time since they saw each other again in years, she seems glad that he’s there, “Jeongguk!” Her voice is giddy, and he thinks he hasn’t heard his name being said like that in a long time.

Still, he keeps an unbothered act up while standing in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, “Dahye went home already. I’m guessing she was your ride home.”

Now, he knows she’s overdramatic, but with alcohol flowing through her system that trait of her surely reaches its finite form. She lets out an incredulously loud gasp, mouth hanging and all, and whispers some more insults under her breath. When she still doesn’t reply, he listens more attentively to what she’s muttering and he latches on to her intention of going back home with a taxi, “I have 9,000 won on me, so that will probably do, Eunbi…”

He witnesses beyond belief the girl in front of him giving herself a whole encouraging speech before taking off onto the road, uncareful of eventual vehicles steering on it. That triggers his instinct, yelling her name. It unexpectedly but luckily stops her in her tracks, making her turn around with a not so pleased expression.

Jeongguk can’t believe what he’s offering to do while having to be met with that look on her face. Ugh, brat. “What the hell are you doing? C’mon, I’m taking you home.”

The laugh she lets out is so obnoxious and loud that a few people actually turn around startled, and Jeongguk has to literally sprint over to her, holding her wrist to bring her further away from the road and from the club’s entrance, “Shut up, God,” He whisper yells, while she seems to do the exact opposite.

It luckily stops at some point, but as if nothing ever happened she turns too serious too soon, ”You…” Her finger is pointed at Jeongguk’s chest in what seems to be a menacing manner, eyes narrowed and dipping into his, “You own that loud bike. I’m not getting on it. Not getting on it!” She yells that last sentence, making a scene as if she was trying to break free from Jeongguk’s hold, which he immediately drops, while still trying to get her to be quiet.

The genuinely desperate expression on the boy’s face is enough for her next move to be crouching in half, holding her stomach as unexpected laughter holds her body hostage once again, Jeongguk sighing unbelievably and regretting every single thought of his that led him to follow her outside.

”Can you please- be normal,” Jeongguk actually begs, bringing the girl up and noticing real tears around her eyes, smudging her glittery makeup. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, his expression clearly conveying that annoyment.

”You- You’re too funny,” She giggles, recovering from her sudden fit of laughter, which dies down slowly this time with her emitting a long sigh. The drunk girl shakes her head to herself, retrieving her phone once again and opening the Uber app. Jeongguk is having none of it.

”I’m being serious. I’m not letting you get a taxi at this hour. You’re getting on that loud bike, like it or not.” His firm statement is luckily not followed by chuckles, nor by a witty remark, just her snapping her head up with big eyes staring into his unsurely. He feels like having to deal with an eleven year old all over again, only this time his patience is running thin and he doesn’t feel like waiting.

The girl catches up to him, trying her best to keep up with his pace and following him closely to the vehicle that’s going to be her ride home tonight. She shivers, not only because she’s cold but also because she’s rethinking life choices. Eunbi scrambles to find anything to avoid what was bound to happen, her slow mind trying to come up with a quick escape and not even registering Jeongguk putting his jacket around her shoulders and securing the helmet under her chin, while she almost literally just stands there. “I’m sure-” she hiccups, “I’m sure that blonde girl would love to be in my position right now.”

That is not at all how it was supposed to come out nor sound, the confusion evident on the boy’s face being met with horror written in the girl’s expression. She stutters, “I meant, like- you should be taking her home.”

A part of his brain notes the fact that she was also observing him from a distance not too long ago inside the club, but he leaves that thought for his late night thinking. Right now, he chuckles amusedly, sitting on his bike while adjusting his hair, “Hop on. It won’t kill you.”

The possibility of the bike killing her almost does it for her, until she remembers the other option. Having to pay for an Uber at 4 a.m. while too drunk to even formulate a senseful sentence. In front of her instead, a free ride by no one other than the boy she’s been shamelessly avoiding for no reason, too scared to actually confront him. What a great second option.

Still, she balances herself using his shoulders and gets on the bike, not knowing where to put her hands next. That thought seems to be registering at the same time in Jeongguk’s head, who revs the engine, “I suggest you hold onto me.”

Eunbi scoffs, shoving her straightened hair back in a sassy manner, “There’s no way in hell-“ Her remark is abruptly interrupted by a loud squeal, followed by her arms wrapping around his torso in under one millisecond, with Jeongguk suddenly taking off at full speed.

He laughs a genuine one, and that gets the scared girl pissed beyond hell, yelling in his ear about how she hates his guts with her hands almost close to groping his pecs. Can you blame her? They’re the closest thing she can hold on to right now to survive.

He does slow down, as does his laughter and her screaming, but then as he rounds the club he spots the men who had been bothering Eunbi at the beginning of the night intent on crossing the street. He figures he can play a bit more before actually stopping sabotaging the girl in the back’s health. Just a little something to get back at them for their comments. So, he zooms right past them, cutting their way suddenly and almost probably going over one of their toes, their incredulous yelling and remarks being music for his ears, joined by the girl he’s taking home as she screams more insults at him, looking back at the angered men getting further as Jeongguk drives away.

”Are you trying to take my life?” She’s almost voiceless as she tries to make herself heard over the engine, squeezing Jeongguk’s waist in genuine fear. All she gets back from the biker is a giggle, and a tap on her knee, “Sorry. They deserved it. You can relax now.”

As suspicious as she may have been initially, he didn’t lie. The rest of the ride is pleasant, slow driving while a sweet summer breeze brushes her face and makes her hair flow with the wind. No one dares break the moment, not even at red lights when the only sound that can be heard over the silence is the growling motor. Eunbi is glad Jeongguk knows the way to her flat, having already been there with the others for a few house parties she and Dahye hosted. That means she can just zone out in the back, her head resting on Jeongguk’s shoulders, and right in this moment she doesn’t regret almost risking her life, the sight of the city flashing past her making her forget all about it.

When Jeongguk can feel the grip around his torso getting loose, he taps her knee twice, afraid she might be falling asleep. He’s proved right when that gesture gets her to suddenly shake her head, muttering some noises and tightening her hold around him again. He smiles, ”We’re almost home, don’t fall asleep on me.”

Indeed, the sight of her building comes to view shortly after, Jeongguk stopping in front of it and waiting for his backpack to get off the bike. When she does, she stumbles slightly, seemingly gaining consciousness of her surroundings again. Jeongguk notices she completely wrapped herself in his leather jacket, figures she was probably freezing to death in that short dress of hers. Thinks it’s a cute sight. Regrets having a brain right after.

Said cute sight struggles to take off the helmet, Jeongguk itching to help her, but she succeeds unexpectedly without any help. Still no word being uttered by any of the two, with her hair a tangled mess, she gets close to him and repeats the same actions Jeongguk did to her earlier, handing his jacket back and putting the helmet around his head. When she’s done she pats it, then takes a step back.

A simple ride home on Jeongguk’s bike seems to have opened a black hole of unsaid truths, being communicated by their eyes just staring at each other. None of them is ready to voice them out, though. Eunbi clears her throat, pulling the hem of her dress down as a habit, clearly out of embarrassment. Then, she fixes her locks, “That’s very dangerous, you know?”

Jeongguk hums questionly, moving some of his bangs out of his vision and clearly seeing goosebumps rising on the girl’s skin, unsure of why she prefers trying to converse after minutes of silence over warming up in her flat.

“You giving me your helmet and your jacket. What if you hurt yourself?” She keeps muttering some more remarks under her breath, probably slander reserved just for him this time. He can make out a dumbass. What a nerve.

She may be right, though. Without his jacket on, he was only covered by a tight black shirt, nothing on his head to save him from any eventuality he doesn’t want to consider. Still, he clearly doesn’t see why he wouldn’t have preferred to protect her instead of himself, but he doesn’t exactly say that, “If I didn’t do that, you would have been a popsicle by now.”

The girl giggles, proving him right when she wraps her arms around her figure, “So, you do this for every girl? What if one of them gets you killed?”

Jeongguk scoffs amusedly, shaking his head at her implication, but deciding to ignore it, “The only one who got me close to that was you.” He only says that to gain one of her too over the top reactions, and he’s glad when she furrows her brows, hanging her mouth and bringing a hand to her chest. He chuckles, “If anything you should be thanking me.”

The usually over dramatic girl now just nods, taking in the smile on his face and grasping the fact that it hasn’t been directed at her in a long time before this moment. She smiles too, “Yeah, huh… Thanks. For the ride. ‘T was nice.”

Jeongguk figures the wind must have dried up almost all the alcohol from Eunbi’s body, because she seems to be realising, just as he is, how close they have gotten to one another while ignoring the huge elephant in the room, her attitude being way less sassy and picky with this knowledge. Fazed by this sudden but obvious realisation, he only nods.

The girl quickly notices the change in his demeanour and she nervously bites her lower lip, aware their dynamic is going to return to cold stares and unacknowledgement, but still wanting to hold onto this moment even for one more second. “Oh,” her chest jumps in some sort of gasp, realising she still has something else to thank him for, “Thanks for earlier. You know, with those guys. I appreciated it.”

Differently from Eunbi, Jeongguk wants to be done with this pretence already. As soon as he found himself getting too lost in the fantasy of them still being friends, he quickly recovered and put the wall up high again, making the distance between them even farther than it was before. He doesn’t miss the sadness in her eyes when that shift happens, but he also doesn’t want to dwell too much on it, his tone unbothered all of the sudden while his eyes convey a different story, “No problem. Get inside.”

She nods, giving him a tight lipped smile, turning around slowly and making her way to the front door of the building. She expects to hear the roaring of the bike’s engine, but the only sound that can be heard is that of the birds waking up and singing their morning songs.

Jeongguk stays in his spot on the bike until he sees the girl enter the block, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding and then securing the helmet under his chin. Pats it, then immediately retreats his hand. “Dumbass,” That’s his signal he needs to get home as soon as possible and get some sleep, already imagining how difficult such a simple task will be with his mind running a hundred miles per hour. Fucking Bee.

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | three

🐴Chapter summary: You win some and you lose some— isn’t that how the saying goes? But when you keep messing up, how long does it take for your sister to get enough of your fuck ups? 🐴Chapter title: Sometimes 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: some sexual tension and angst! A storm is brewing ⛈️ + a horse in pain (colic), also Jessi is a real pain in the ass in this chapter, sorry. 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 11.8k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Sometimes” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note(1): I’m not a vet okay– so some of the descriptions regarding veterinary treatment of horses might not be 100% spot on, lol. 

Also, I know that you all want MC and Jimin to get together, and it is coming soon— I promise! 🫶 The next chapter is actually one of my favorites 🥰

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Sometimes at the edge of sight Something moves which isn't there You turn to look but it's gone, it's gone Was it ever really there Yet it touches you Softly touches you And then it begins again” -  ‘Sometimes’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Perplexed, you question why Jessi deemed it a brilliant idea for you to single-handedly corral the sheep into the pen. You move at a measured trot, employing subtle cues with your legs on Marshmallow to orchestrate the intricate dance required to guide the sheep to their destination.

Eager to excel and make a lasting impression, you're determined to master the task your sister entrusted you with. The desire to earn Jessi's approval fuels your determination, pushing you to strive for excellence in her eyes.

With a subtle click of your tongue, you skillfully guide the reins, prompting Marshmallow to gracefully trot to the right and deftly corral a stray sheep back into the fold.

A sense of surprise washes over you as you realize just how adept you are at this task. It feels surprisingly easy, and a newfound energy surges within, allowing you to even whistle a tune as the ranch comes into view on the horizon. The girls await your successful return at the shed, a testament to your growing confidence. Almost there.

Grinning ear to ear, you reach the gate of the pen and energetically wave to Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin, your sister nowhere to be seen.

Approaching the gate, you deftly lean over Marshmallow, swing it open, and expertly turn the horse around. With determination, you guide the sheep into the pen, where the girls await, poised for the upcoming shearing.

“You did such a nice job!” Soo-ah's voice echoes with admiration, her wide smile and doe-like eyes expressing genuine appreciation. You nod in gratitude, turning Marshmallow toward the barn to return him to the field, a sense of accomplishment swelling within you.

Guiding Marshmallow into the barn with deliberate ease, you orchestrate a gradual slowdown. With a practiced motion, you swing your leg over the saddle and dismount, grounding yourself with a gentle touch on the barn floor. “Such a good boy,” you murmur affectionately, your hand caressing Marshmallow's neck, eliciting a delighted response from the appreciative horse.

Effortlessly unhooking the girdle from the saddle, you carefully lift it off Marshmallow's back and return it to its designated spot on the saddle hook in the corner. He stands patiently, awaiting your return to relieve him of his bridle. A soft click of your tongue signals him to follow as you lead him gracefully to a paddock.

As you swing the gate open for Marshmallow, you marvel at the grace with which he bounds into the paddock, joining the rhythmic dance of the other horses. A peculiar warmth envelops your heart, a sense of fulfillment washing over you. The silent camaraderie among these majestic creatures stirs a deep nostalgia, making you keenly aware of how much you've yearned for the company of horses.

With a heart brimming with affection, you stride purposefully back to the shed where the girls await assistance in shearing the sheep. The prospect of shearing, an uncharted territory for you, looms uncertainly. Doubts flicker like fleeting shadows—will you navigate the shearing process with finesse, or fumble in your attempt? The anticipation lingers, but optimism threads through your thoughts as you hope for a seamless endeavor.

The girls deftly corral sheep, ushering them one by one into the bustling shearing shed. Jessi, now a commanding presence, orchestrates the operation with vocal precision, her directives ringing out amid the flurry of wooly activity.

“Go grab a sheep!” Jessi commands, her voice cutting through the wooly chaos. You heed her directive, but the task is easier said than done. The sheep evade your advances, darting away like fleeting shadows, leaving you in a comical dance of pursuit.

Balancing on the delicate line between assertiveness and consideration, you tread lightly with the sheep. Jessi's voice echoes in your mind, emphasizing the significance of stress-free herding. You avoid being too imposing, a mindful dance to ensure the flock remains undisturbed by your presence. Struggling to find the right pace, you navigate the delicate task of herding without causing distress. Yet, your caution results in a slow, deliberate progress that doesn't align with Jessi's brisk expectations.

“What's the hold up?” echoes your sister's impatient voice from within the shed, prompting an audible sigh of frustration to escape your lips.

“They run away as soon as I approach! I can't catch a single fucking one…” you lament with a deflated sigh, watching Ha-rin effortlessly wrangle a sheep into the shed for Jessi to shear. The task seems so effortless for her, and you can't help but feel a sense of frustration settling in.

“You've got to assert yourself without stressing them out!” Jessi's instructions echo from the shed. Easier said than done, you think to yourself. 

Why can't she take charge of the herding, leaving you to shear the sheep? After all, how hard can that be? You've handled clippers while cutting hair before!

“Can’t we switch places?” You groan audibly, surrendering and entering the shed. Inside, you find a visibly sweaty Jessi and Soo-ah hard at work shearing sheep. They sport tank tops, drenched in sweat, and you glance at your hoodie, realizing it's time to shed that too. Without second thoughts, you peel it off.

Jessi looks up, setting down the clippers after finishing with one sheep. As it walks off into another pen, she questions, “Do you really want to shear the sheep?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, standing in your tank top, determined to dive into the task at hand. After all, how challenging could it really be?

Jessi chuckles, clearly amused by your determination. She powers down the clippers and stretches her back, beads of sweat tracing a path from her hairline down her face. She breathes heavily, as if she's just completed a vigorous run.

She explains, wiping her face with a cloth, “Just pull this to start the clippers, and again when you're done with a sheep.” Her smile is encouraging as she heads outside into the brisk, hot sun to fetch sheep for you.

Jessi hands you a squirming sheep, and its resistance is evident as you grapple to steady it in your arms for shearing. The sound of Jessi's laughter echoes through the shed as you wrestle with the stubborn creature. You grasp the clippers, initiating their hum, and lower them toward the sheep's wool. Yet, the distressed animal resists, and your attempts to shear off even a single piece of wool are thwarted as it breaks free, darting around the shed in a state of panic.

Laughter erupts in the shed, a symphony of joy, and Jessi joins in with such enthusiasm that she clutches her stomach. Tears, mingled with sweat, streak down her face.

“You have to hold it down, gently though,” Soo-ah instructs, her hands expertly guiding the clippers through the wool of her own sheep. The ease with which she maneuvers the tool makes you realize that she's mastered the art, turning the seemingly complicated task into a graceful dance with the clippers. You watch, determined to learn, as she transforms the shearing process into a captivating display of skill.

“Okay,” you affirm, a newfound determination burning in your eyes as you prepare to make another attempt.

Jessi deftly catches the elusive sheep that had evaded you earlier, guiding it back to the pen with a gentle touch. She shares insights about the importance of letting the sheep de-stress before attempting to shear, imparting her seasoned knowledge in a blend of expertise and empathy.

Jessi strides out to fetch another sheep, its wooly resistance evident in the struggle against her hold. Passing the lively bundle of wool to you, she entrusts you with the task. Cradling the spirited creature in your arms, you activate the clippers, their hum filling the air as you carefully guide them over the sheep's body, determined to conquer the challenge of shearing.

The sheep surprisingly cooperates, holding still as you work the clippers through its wool. Just as you start feeling victorious, Jessi reenters the shed, her expert eye catching a potential mishap. 

“Not that close to the skin, or you’re gonna cut it,” she advises, and a frown creases your face. Examining your progress, you notice the sheep's skin perilously close to being nicked. Quickly shutting off the clippers, you release the half-sheared sheep, which makes a hasty escape. Fortunately, Soo-ah intercepts and expertly completes the shearing process.

Frustration bubbles within you as you groan, “Fuck. This is hard.” 

The sense of failure looms large – unable to smoothly handle the sheep, struggling with the clippers, you question your competence. What, in this unfamiliar environment, can you actually accomplish?

The stifling air in the cramped shed starts to feel suffocating, prompting an urgent need for a breath of fresh air.

“Did you expect it to be easy?” Soo-ah inquires, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Your head shakes in uncertainty. Perhaps. All you yearn for is to excel, to instill a sense of pride in your sister, to debunk the notion that you're merely an inept city dweller. However, in this moment, that's precisely how you perceive yourself.

“You know what– I'm going to take a breather and catch some fresh air,” you declare to the girls, conceding once more. This situation is not to your liking; you yearn to contribute meaningfully on the ranch. Yet, you can't shake the feeling that you're merely impeding everyone's progress.

The girls offer silent nods as you exit, no further words exchanged. Your head hangs low; pride in your performance is absent. You could have done so much better. You just feel so fucking useless.

Your feet guide you outside, greeted by the blazing sun and its intense heat. Grateful for the comfort of a tank top, you make your way to the paddock where the horses leisurely graze. As you open the gate, a mental note reminds you to turn around and ensure its secure closure this time.

Your steps lead you without a clear destination, winding through the landscape until, unexpectedly, you find yourself atop a hill. From this vantage point, the entire ranch sprawls beneath you, yet you choose to avert your gaze. Instead, you turn to face the captivating expanse of the blue sky meeting the rolling green horizon.

As you exhale, your body gives in to a slight slump, settling onto the soft grass. The weight of perceived failure rests on your shoulders. Despite the rational acknowledgment that shearing sheep for the first time comes with a learning curve, the nagging desire to impress Jessi fuels your frustration. 

Why can't you do better?

It's a question echoing in your mind, a silent plea to yourself to rise above this initial struggle.

As thoughts of obtaining Jessi's signature to sell your share of the ranch swirl in your mind, a surprising realization hits you—you're starting to embrace the charm of this vast, open land. The expansive landscapes, the crisp air, the vibrant green grass under the endless blue sky, and the twinkling stars at night, all things the city never offered. Despite labeling yourself a city girl, you're slowly discovering a newfound connection to the land you used to call home. Could this place, once abandoned, become home again? 

Now, as the landscape of the ranch paints a new picture in your mind, you question whether you could reclaim that sense of home. The uncertainty hovers, a cloud casting shadows on your future. Is this rural life meant for you? While Jessi revels in your recent misadventures, you can envision her sharing a beer or uncorking a bottle of wine with the girls the moment you depart. A smirk tugs at your lips as you ponder her probable preference for beer, and you find yourself smiling at that fact.

A yearning for deeper understanding tugs at your core as you grapple with the realization that you might not know your sister as intimately as one would expect siblings to. The echoes of your departure from this place, a mere kid back then, reverberate through the unspoken words that now hang heavily in the air between you and your sister. 

The scars of the past loom large, raising the daunting question: Can time and memories ever bridge the chasm caused by years of separation and untold pain?

As a sigh escapes your lips, a subtle uneasiness takes root in the pit of your stomach, casting a shadow over your thoughts. The gentle caress of the wind on your face seems to mock your inner turmoil, and a low groan escapes you. Despite the reluctance gnawing at your resolve, the undeniable truth lingers – you must return to the shed and confront the unfinished task that awaits.

Maybe you could do something different instead of shearing or gathering sheep. You don’t really want to do that again anytime soon. Maybe you could collect or sort the wool that the others have sheared?

As you gaze up at the vast expanse of the sky, its hues shifting subtly with the passage of unnoticed time, a realization dawns upon you. It's a silent cue to return to the shed and rejoin the collective effort. As you descend the hill, the silhouette of a black and a blue Ford Ranger gradually comes into view, parked near the paddock. A peculiar flutter dances in your chest, a subtle rhythm that you attempt to dismiss, choosing to bury it deep down.

As you approach the shed, the crescendo of voices builds a symphony of anticipation. Upon pushing open the door, a medley of scents assaults your senses—sweat, the unmistakable essence of hard labor. The scene unfolds before you: men toiling away, clad in tank tops, their bodies glistening with the evidence of their exertion, each droplet of sweat a testament to their dedication.

At first glance, your eyes lock onto Jimin, his tousled blonde locks clinging to his perspiring forehead as he skillfully shears the sheep handed to him by Ara. His muscles ripple beneath the strain, defining every inch of his biceps—a visual feast that leaves you momentarily captivated. Unconsciously, you find yourself licking your lips, entranced by the alluring spectacle of him immersed in his work.

The veins in his arms dance beneath the surface, as if daring to break free from their confines, a mesmerizing display of controlled strength as he maneuvers the clipper with precision around the sheep's body. A surge of something indefinable stirs within you, igniting a cascade of flutters in your chest. Flutters dance in your chest, and the heat intensifies, making it suddenly challenging to draw in a simple breath in the midst of the scorching atmosphere.

The beads of sweat cascade from his hairline, tracing a rivulet down his face, and the droplets rhythmically dance along his arms as he deftly pulls the lever, silencing the clipper. The sheep, now freed, scampers towards the other pen, leaving a tangible sense of accomplishment lingering in the air.

Entranced by his every move, you find yourself in a spellbound reverie. When his gaze locks onto yours, revealing that he's caught you stealing glances, a mischievous and knowing smile curves on his lips. 

In that moment, you sense the impending danger he poses to your heart.

As your gaze shifts to Jungkook, you observe beads of sweat mirroring his brother's exertion, his muscular biceps defined beneath the strain of wielding clippers on the sheep. The strands of his black hair cling to his head, forming enticing curls at the ends.

As your eyes traverse the scene, they settle on Hoseok, his luscious brown hair adhering to his face due to perspiration. In a tank top that clings uncomfortably to his sweaty body, he expertly drags sheep from the pen to join Jessi, Jimin, and Jungkook, who are engrossed in the current shearing process.

Next, your gaze descends upon Yoongi, immersed in the task of sorting the wool. With silver hair that curls at the ends from the heat, he emits a groan of frustration while scrutinizing the wool. Intrigued, you approach him, a curious lilt in your voice as you inquire about his current endeavor, genuinely captivated by his activities.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m classifying the wool,” Yoongi's fingers deftly navigate through the wool, inspecting it for imperfections as he classifies it. When he looks up at you, his gaze locks with yours, and a hint of invitation colors his voice as he asks, “Do you want to help? It's easy,” he adds, extending the offer with a subtle challenge in his eyes.

You smile warmly at him, nodding in agreement. The prospect of contributing in a meaningful way lifts your spirits. Yoongi takes the lead, guiding you through the intricate process of classifying wool. He imparts the nuances of the task, pointing out imperfections that could downgrade the wool's quality. 

Yoongi proves to be excellent company. While he remains mostly silent, the occasional grumble escapes his lips as he meticulously identifies imperfections in the wool. 

Out of the blue, you turn to Yoongi, curiosity lighting up your gaze. “Do you like horses?” His response is a subtle smile accompanied by a nod. In the quiet exchange, you sense that he might be a man of few words, his thoughts and emotions hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be unraveled.

As you glance upward, you find Jimin's eyes fixed on you, an intensity that seems to penetrate your very soul. Uncomfortably exposed, you quickly shift your gaze away, unable to withstand the weight of his stare. It's as if he possesses the ability to see through your every layer, leaving you feeling vulnerable and laid bare.

As you approach the halfway point, beads of sweat dotting everyone's exerted faces, a welcomed break arrives. Ha-rin swoops in as the savior, distributing ice-cold water bottles to the parched crew. You practically guzzle down an entire bottle, the refreshing liquid providing a much-needed respite from the relentless heat.

Cool water trickles down your collarbones, and you sense Jimin’s gaze lingering on the droplets. Sweat continues to bead on his face as he dives back into the task of shearing the remaining sheep.

Jessi reenters the shed, her sudden return catching you off guard. You didn’t even know she left. “What the hell is this?” Her eyes narrow at the sheep tags, a visible frown creasing her face—oh, she’s not happy.

Your fingers pause their work on the wool as you look up, meeting Jessi's intense gaze. The tension in the air becomes palpable, and you can't help but feel a knot forming in your stomach. “What’s wrong?” 

“These are the wrong sheep,” Silence descends like a heavy shroud as Jessi's words cut through the air, freezing every motion in the shed. Her revelation hangs in the space between the hum of the clippers and the suspended breaths of everyone present. Your hands, once deftly working with the wool, now hover in limbo, caught in the gravity of her words. All eyes converge on you, and the weight of your mistake settles like an anchor in the pit of your stomach. Unable to face the accusing gazes, you avert your eyes, well aware that you fucked up big time.

Your sister marches towards you at the wool pressing station, her voice cuts through the air like a whip, each word laced with frustration. “You gathered the wrong sheep!” 

Her accusation lands on you like a blow, and you instinctively shrink under the weight of her anger. Hovering over you, she delivers her disappointment with venom, making your body tense in response. The air thickens as she paints the picture of the setback you've caused, and the realization of your mistake casts a shadow over the shed. 

“Now we have to gather the right sheep and shear them too..” Frustration lines her face, and beads of sweat form a trail down her hairline, leaving traces on her tank top. 

In the blistering heat of her frustration, your sister's words cut through the air like a searing wind. “We are going to be behind! And it’s your fucking fault!” Her accusatory finger points directly at your retreating form, each word a sharp pang echoing in the shed. 

The weight of your mistake presses down on you, and you can't bear it any longer. Stepping back, you find yourself in the spotlight, all eyes still fixed on your figure. The suffocating tension hangs heavy in the air, leaving you with a sense of regret that matches the scorching heat around you.

As you retreat towards the door, you catch the remorse and sadness in Jimin's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the chaos unfolding. Pushing yourself outside, you crave distance – an escape from the suffocating atmosphere, from the weight of your failures, and from the relentless series of mistakes that cling to you like a shadow.

Without warning, your feet break into a sprint, the sting of unshed tears threatening to overflow. In the midst of your rapid escape, you acknowledge the bitter truth – a familiar refrain that echoes in your mind: you should have seen it coming; after all, you have a knack for unraveling everything you touch.

Barely a few steps away, a familiar silhouette catches up – it's Jimin. As you reach the outskirts of the main house, standing in the yard, he utters words that echo with a plea, “Please come back,” his voice infused with a tenderness that tugs at your heart.

You exhale a heavy sigh, pausing before taking tentative steps toward the house. Slowly, you pivot your body, facing him with a mix of reluctance and curiosity.

“I fuck everything up Jimin,” you confess, releasing a heavy breath and exhaling deeply. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch.”

You sense your mind descending a ladder it shouldn't tread, but you can't resist. The overwhelming feeling of uselessness sends your thoughts into a tailspin.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better.” As he attempts to reassure you, his words only partially register, drowned out by the surging frustration within. A turbulent blend of anger and irritation courses through your veins, and you clench your fists, struggling to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart.

Out of the blue, you throw a question at him, breaking the silence. “Do you think I belong here?” The unexpected inquiry catches him off guard, evident in the momentary gape on his face.

“I do,” he starts, his words carrying a subtle plea, and you're left wondering why. What prompts this earnest assurance from him?

“I believe you just need time,” he adds, a reassuring smile gracing his face. 

“I don't think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you state, the words escaping your lips with a blankness that mirrors the emptiness inside. It's as if all the fight has been drained from you. Thoughts of returning home and calling it quits start to seep in, contemplating whether this life is truly meant for you. The allure of the city beckons, a retreat from the challenges on the ranch and perhaps a way to keep a safe distance from your sister. The idea lingers, tempting you with the notion that everyone might be happier that way.

You feel the raindrops patter on your skin, a cascading rhythm that mirrors the tumult within. Jimin appears unfazed, embracing the downpour without hesitation. The deluge intensifies, nearly drowning you in its relentless flow, mirroring the suffocating feeling of your struggles on the ranch. Is this torrential downpour a sign, urging you to contemplate the idea that perhaps it's truly time to head back to the city?

“We should get back,” Jimin suggests, attempting to guide you back, but the allure of the rain refuses to release its grip. The downpour descends heavily, clinging to your hair, a weight that feels like both burden and baptism. With raindrops tracing trails down your skin, it’s almost as if you’re being cleansed. As he observes your entwined hands, Jimin releases an audible sigh. 

“You belong here,” he whispers, his voice a gentle caress, and a distant memory awakens within you— Childhood days resurface, a time of carefree laughter, a handsome boy uttering those same words when your father tore you away from this very land.

His touch crackles with an electric charge, igniting your skin in a dance with the pelting rain. It's a strange collision of fire and water, the contrasting elements creating a sensation that defies the damp surroundings. Instead of quenching the internal fire, the rain seems to stoke its flames, the intensity growing and nearly overtaking you.

His simple words act as a catalyst, reigniting the spark within you. With a heart fluttering to the rhythm of a wild stallion's gallop, you sprint back to the shed hand in hand, a small newfound determination propelling you forward in the pouring rain.

The lingering sense of uselessness persists, a relentless storm within. The weight of failure bears down on you, exacerbated when Jessi emphatically states that wet sheep can't be sheared. Her reminder echoes in the air, emphasizing the crucial task of gathering the right sheep after the sun works its magic to dry and warm their wool.

Amidst the tumultuous events, a haunting trio of emotions persists – regret, failure, and the sting of embarrassment.

As you move, the gentle yet commanding gaze of hazel eyes tracks your every step, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, creating an undercurrent of anticipation.

Frustration fueled by recent setbacks propels you to reach for your phone, fervently scouring the internet for information on handling your inheritance. Can you maneuver through the legal intricacies to sell your share of the ranch without the elusive signature of your sister?

In a moment of urgency, you delve into the unexplored territory of your inheritance, frantically searching on your phone. To your surprise, the results reveal a glimmer of hope – selling your share of the ranch without your sister's consent is not just a possibility, but a potential reality.

Despite the unsettling churn in your stomach at the thought of selling your share without your sister's knowledge, there's an undercurrent of reassurance. The knowledge that you have this option as a fallback provides a sliver of comfort, a lifeline in case Jessi refuses to grant you her signature.

Even as the warmth of this place and its people seep into your heart, the truth remains unchanged—you were never destined to stay. The allure of a potential sale, with its promise of financial security, continues to beckon, a lingering reminder of the transient nature of your stay.

As Ara flashes you a warm smile while tidying up a horse's stall in the barn, she extends an invitation, “Do you want to come into town with us?” 

You're already lending her a hand, a task you're proficient at among the few things you've mastered during your stay.

“Sure,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug, the prospect of joining them in town offering a welcome diversion. With nothing pressing on your agenda, the possibility of a change of scenery beckons.

After completing the task of clearing out the stalls, you step into the yard, heading towards the pickup truck where Ha-rin awaits. The afternoon briskness plays with the strands of her short black hair.

As you all squeeze into the car, Ara takes the driver's seat and steers towards town. The road stretches out, and a contemplative silence envelops the vehicle. Unsure of what to discuss, you resist the urge to fill the void with forced conversation, allowing the rhythmic hum of the engine to create a canvas for unspoken thoughts.

Ara, surprisingly swift behind the wheel, navigates the journey to town in under two hours, leaving you both impressed and slightly questioning the safety of the speedy drive.

Nevertheless, here you are, immersed in the charm of the small town, wandering the aisles of the local grocery store.

Your trio navigates the aisles in unison, methodically checking items off Jessi's list. The simplicity of the task doesn't escape you, and you're determined not to let this be another thing you mess up.

As your gaze sweeps across the formidable grocery list, you notice an abundance of canned goods, sacks of flour, bags of rice, heaps of pasta, and an array of frozen items. The sheer quantity raises an unspoken question in your mind – is Jessi preparing for an impending event, or is this a routine restocking?

You cast a frustrated gaze away from the overwhelming list, you can't help but voice your exasperation. “Do we seriously need every single thing on this damn list?” The question hangs in the air, met with amused chuckles from the girls, their eyes twinkling with shared understanding.

Ha-rin offers a smile, her explanation accompanied by a purposeful stride as she guides the cart through the aisles, steadily accumulating the items on the lengthy list. “It's mainly for backstock. Stocking up helps us avoid frequent trips to town,” she shares, her words carrying a practical wisdom that resonates with the challenges of ranch life.

As you navigate through the aisle, the sultry tones of a familiar voice reach your ears. “Come on. It'll be fun in my car.” 

Turning the corner, you spot the source—Jungkook, once again in the midst of his charming antics. A chuckle escapes you at the scene: his body leaning into the woman's like a predator and its prey. The pang in your chest is fleeting this time, a mere echo of the past encounter when you found yourself pressed against a wall with Jungkook.

Ara joins you, a shared chuckle escapes her lips as both of you catch sight of Jungkook's flirtatious spectacle. Deciding not to linger, you continue your journey further into the store, leaving the scene behind.

“I feel like I see Jungkook everywhere I go,” laughing, you share your observation with Ara as the cart, now laden with supplies, glides toward the cashier. The recurrent presence of Jungkook in unexpected places has become a quirky pattern in your days.

“Jungkook's reputation with the women in this town is legendary,” Ha-rin remarks, rolling her eyes with a smile. “Not that he's not sweet, but it's as if he's eternally searching, never quite satisfied,” she muses, the words more of a contemplative murmur than a deliberate statement.

As you ponder Ha-rin's remark about Jungkook, a fleeting thought crosses your mind. Could it be true that he, like everyone else, is on a quest for ‘the one’?

At the cashier, you efficiently load all your items onto the till, settle the grocery bill, and proceed to wheel the cart out to the pick-up truck. The teamwork flows seamlessly, and thankfully, the task is swiftly accomplished.

Securing the tarp over the backload of the truck, you turn to Ara and Ha-rin with a curious glint in your eyes. “Do you guys know when Jungkook moved here? I don't recall him being around when I was a kid,” you inquire, a tinge of nostalgia coloring your voice.

As you all climb back into the truck, you can't help but feel a sense of relief with Ha-rin taking the wheel this time – a decision that, for some reason, gives you a comforting notion of safety.

“Jungkook actually moved here shortly after you left,” Ara reveals from the front seat. The engine roars to life as Ha-rin takes control, steering the truck back towards the ranch.

“His mom married Jimin’s father, and they embraced the Park surname as their own. Jungkook’s actual last name is Jeon,” Ara shares, her laughter filling the truck's cabin as she turns to face you more directly. “And here's a tidbit for you: Jessi and Jungkook are actually best friends.” The revelation catches you off guard. Despite their apparent closeness, you hadn't realized the depth of their friendship until now.

“They’re always bickering,” Ha-rin chimes in with an eye roll, steering the car down the main road.

“They just need to fuck each other, that’s all.” Ara declares with a laughter that echoes through the truck.

You join in her laughter, though a peculiar unease settles in your stomach.

You sprint down to the main house, your feet drumming angrily on the dirt, the rhythmic pulse of your heart echoing in your ears. Bursting through the door, you dash into the kitchen, seeking out Ha-rin. Panting, you lean against the door frame, catching your breath.

Gasping for breath, eyes wide with urgency, you implore, “Do you have the vet's number?”

Worry etches across her face as she abandons the vegetables on the countertop. With a swift motion, she retrieves a piece of paper from the fridge, hastily jotting down the vet's number. 

“What's wrong?” she inquires, concern lacing her words. 

You spill the urgency in your voice, “It's Cinnamon, he's just laying down in his stall and I can't get him to stand. He seems to be in pain.”

“This is Namjoon’s number. Call him, and he’ll get here as soon as possible.” She hands you the slip of paper, and as you're about to turn away, heading back to the barn, you flash her a soft smile, gratitude lingering in your gaze.

“It sounds like he might have colic; do everything you can to make him stand up, okay?” She continues with a sense of urgency, turning her attention back to preparing the vegetables for tonight's dinner. You respond with a firm nod, then hastily leave the kitchen, the house, and sprint toward the barn, the piece of paper tightly clenched in your hand.

Cinnamon remains on the ground, emitting a strained whine that sends shivers down your spine. His condition is visibly deteriorating. Anxious, you retrieve your phone and the piece of paper bearing the vet's number. Your fingertips glide across the glass of your phone, tracing unfamiliar numbers before decisively pressing ‘call.’

“Hello, this is Namjoon. How can I assist you?” His voice carries a gentle warmth, hinting at a reassuring smile even through the phone.

“Hey there! My sister's horse is in bad shape. Any chance you could swing by and check him out?” you implore, crouching beside Cinnamon and gently caressing his soft coat.

“Absolutely,” he responds, and a brief pause follows, suggesting he's gathering supplies, the distinct rustling audible. “Mind filling me in on what's going on with the horse?”

After a brief hesitation, you gather your thoughts. Uncertain about Cinnamon's ailment, you decide to echo Ha-rin's suggestion, your voice conveying the worry that grips you. “I suspect it might be colic. He's lying down, and I can't get him to stand up.”

As Namjoon offers advice over the phone, the urgency in his voice becomes apparent. “It might be colic. Try your best to get him up and walk around if possible,” he instructs, the audible sounds of a car door opening and closing in the background. Then, he queries, “Where did you say you were again?”

You chuckle, realizing you hadn't given any information about yourself, let alone an introduction. “I'm at Bora Ranch,” you quickly provide, hoping the vet can navigate his way to your location without further delay.

The silence on the line for a few seconds feels like an eternity, but then his voice resonates close to the phone, “Wait... Are you Jessi’s sister? Is Cinnamon sick?” The urgency in his tone heightens the gravity of the situation.

You nod fervently, forgetting for a moment that he can't see you, and respond, “Yeah, that's right.”

“Okay. I'll be there soon,” he assures you before the line goes silent, the distant hum of a car engine starting in the background. Anxious, you pray that Namjoon arrives quickly; the agony of watching Cinnamon in pain becomes more unbearable by the moment.

You attempt to coax him with a gentle tug on his halter, but Cinnamon remains stubbornly unmoving. It's as if he's determined to stay sprawled on the ground. You wrestle with the conflicting thoughts racing through your mind – would it truly be detrimental if he stayed down? Uncertain, you recall the vet and Ha-rin's advice, urging you to encourage movement. Faced with uncertainty, you resolve to heed their counsel and make a concerted effort to get him back on his feet.

“Come on, buddy, rise up... I beg you to get up,” you groan, attempting to lift Cinnamon's head, but your efforts prove futile. Time seems to blur as you persist in coaxing Cinnamon to stand, your frustration mounting. 

Just when despair threatens to settle in, the distant hum of an incoming car reaches your ears. A surge of gratitude washes over you as the vet's arrival feels like a lifeline in this desperate situation.

The nearing footsteps echo steadily, building anticipation until a towering figure emerges before you. Lifting your gaze, you lock eyes with the imposing presence that has just arrived.

His physique commands attention, a robust build accentuated by broad shoulders and encased in a blue coverall with sleeves artfully rolled up, revealing powerful biceps. Yet, his face carries an inviting warmth, and a friendly smile plays on his lips, instantly putting you at ease. Dimples grace his cheeks, adding a touch of approachable charm as he surveys you and the ailing Cinnamon.

“Greetings, I'm Namjoon, the vet,” he declares, placing his toolbox down before extending a hand for a firm shake. His neatly cropped black hair impeccably frames his face, and you take note of his confident yet gentle demeanor. As you introduce yourself as Jessi’s sister, you step aside, creating room for him to enter the stall and assess Cinnamon more closely.

“I'll conduct a thorough examination, but at the moment, colic appears to be a likely diagnosis,” he mentions, retrieving a set of instruments from his toolbox. With precision, he begins scrutinizing Cinnamon, attentively listening to the rhythmic sounds of the horse's stomach through a stethoscope

“Hmm. Could you fetch that tube protruding from my bag?” He motions towards his toolbox, and you swiftly identify the requested tube, presenting it to him. “Appreciate it,” he responds with a grateful smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of professionalism and warmth.

“Could you hold the tube for me? I need to step out to my car and retrieve a bag of fluids,” he entrusts you with the tube before swiftly heading outside, returning promptly with the life-saving liquid in hand.

“Appreciate it,” he acknowledges, reclaiming the tube from your hands and linking it to the translucent bag of vital fluid. Squatting down beside Cinnamon, he gently coaxes the horse's mouth open, inserting the tube into his throat. The sight is unsettling, prompting you to avert your gaze; it's too distressing to witness.

“The fluids will aid in rehydration,” Namjoon enlightens you, sensing your reluctance. 

“The tube is in; you can turn around now.” A soft laugh accompanies his words, prompting you to face the scene unfolding before you. Witnessing Cinnamon receiving the vital fluids is a reassuring sight, and you find a glimmer of hope in the expertise of the skilled veterinarian.

“I've administered some medication to help him relax and alleviate the stomach discomfort. You should be able to get him on his feet in a few minutes,” Namjoon explains, rising to his feet and offering you a reassuring smile. His confidence in the treatment plan eases your worry, and you feel a sense of gratitude for his expertise.

“Jessi never brought up having a sister until about a week ago, so your existence was a bit of a surprise,” Namjoon chuckles, casually leaning against the stall's wall.

“That's not entirely surprising. I left this place as a kid, and now I'm grappling with this unexpected inheritance that's become a puzzle I can't quite solve,” you admit, absently scratching the back of your head in a gesture of nervous uncertainty. It's not that Namjoon is making you uneasy; rather, it's the delicate balance of deciding how much of your story to unveil. Some cards, you’ve learned, are meant to be held close to your chest.

“You know, you could always stick around and build a life for yourself here with your sister,” he suggests, a contemplative smile playing on his lips.

“I've been thinking of heading back to the city... Things are a bit complicated around here,” you admit, reflecting on the numerous times you've stumbled and the strain it has put on your relationship with Jessi.

Without waiting for Namjoon's response, Cinnamon unexpectedly stirs, lifting his head with a renewed vitality. Rushing over, you grab his halter and gently coax him back onto his feet.

The tube slips from his mouth with a resonant clatter, and Cinnamon vigorously shakes his head, dispelling the fatigue that weighed on his robust frame. As he rises to stand firmly on all four legs, a wave of relief washes over you, reassuring you that he's on the path to recovery. You offer him a gentle pat, your touch a soothing affirmation of his regained strength.

“If you've got other matters to attend to, I can handle walking him around. My schedule is clear at the moment. I'll look after him until Jessi returns,” Namjoon suggests, securing a tow rope to Cinnamon's halter before leading him out for a stroll.

“Sure thing,” you respond, reflecting on Ha-rin in the kitchen, realizing she could probably use an extra hand. Expressing your gratitude, you head down to the house, relieved that Cinnamon appears to be on the mend.

Teaming up with Ha-rin, you dive into preparing tonight's dinner, savoring the lively conversation between you. A part of you acknowledges the inevitable longing for these moments once you return to the city. For now, you hold onto these cherished times with everyone on the ranch.

As the clock ticks towards dinner, and with no sign of your sister in sight, you notice Namjoon's car still parked by the barn. Determined, you make your way up there, ready to announce that dinner is served, extending an invitation to Namjoon to join if he wishes.

In the warm embrace of the lingering weather, you embark on a short walk towards the barn. The muffled voices of your sister and Namjoon greet your ears, growing more distinct as you draw near. As you gently push the barn door open, an unexpected sight unfolds before you—they share a tender kiss. 

Stunned, your mouth hangs agape, and instinctively, you retreat behind the barn door, veiling yourself in the shadows to avoid catching their attention.

Your decision to conceal yourself feels somewhat irrational. The sight of your sister engaging in a kiss is surprisingly jarring—perhaps it's the sheer unexpectedness. In your mind, you didn’t think she had a romantic bone in her body, and this revelation leaves you in a state of bewildered surprise.

You push open the barn doors, breaking the tender moment between your sister and Namjoon. A faint blush tints your cheeks as their gaze shifts to you. “Dinner's ready,” you announce, a casual invitation extended to Namjoon. Without waiting for their response, you swiftly retreat, your steps carrying you back down to the house.

The unexpected sight quickens your heart, a strange warmth flickering within. It's comforting to see your sister finding solace, someone to lean on as you prepare to depart. Reflecting on your own shortcomings, you realize you've been more of a burden than a support. But perhaps, in Namjoon, she's found a source of stability you couldn't provide.

The dinner unfolds seamlessly, with Namjoon proving to be delightful company. A subtle undercurrent of emotion lingers between him and your sister, evident in shared glances and unspoken words. Witnessing this connection stirs a surprising sense of joy within you, a genuine happiness for your sister.

“Thank you for calling Namjoon, when you saw that Cinnamon was sick,” Jessi's gratitude catches you off guard, her eyes expressing a tenderness you've rarely witnessed. It's a surreal moment, as if a different, softer version of your sister is speaking. She’s even thanking you. Is this moment real?

Namjoon's words carry a reassuring smile, his gaze fixed on you. “Thanks to your prompt call, Cinnamon will be back to his spirited self in just a few days.” His words accompany a gentle smile, his touch offering comfort as he playfully nudges Jessi's shoulder. 

At last, a glimmer of success amidst the string of mishaps. 

A warmth blooms within your chest, and a genuine smile graces your lips. It's a small victory, but in this moment, you revel in the relief of having played a part in something that didn't unravel under your touch.

As the sun shines high, casting a warm glow upon the barn, the rhythmic symphony of saddles being fastened and horses being prepped fills the air. You meticulously saddle up Marshmallow, your loyal companion, while Jessi tends to Cinnamon, who has thankfully bounced back from his bout of colic. In the background, Ara, Ha-rin, and Soo-ah bustle around, collecting saddles and bridles for their own equine companions. Each of their horses, with coats of varying browns, don distinctive stockings, that makes it easier to tell them apart.

“Are the guys meeting us here?” Curiosity colors your expression as you inquire about the guys, your gaze following Jessi's skilled hands as she readies Cinnamon. 

With the saddle securely in place and the bridle in hand, Jessi exudes confidence, her words carrying a definitive tone, promising the imminent arrival of the guys, “Yeah, they’ll be here at any moment.” Stepping out of the barn, she leads Cinnamon with purpose.

As you prepare to tack up Marshmallow, the task of fastening the girth on the saddle demands your attention. Yet, in the midst of the routine, Marshmallow stands patiently, a paragon of trust and reliability. With practiced ease, you secure the girth, appreciating the unwavering steadiness of your equine companion before moving on to put on the bridle.

While you meticulously attend to Marshmallow, the trio of Soo-ah, Ha-rin, and Ara prove to be swift in their preparations. The clatter of hooves signals their efficiency, and before you can lead Marshmallow out, they're already guiding their horses into the open, joining Jessi in the vibrant embrace of the outdoors.

After meticulously preparing Marshmallow, you guide him out of the barn to find the girls eagerly mounted on their horses, a scene brimming with anticipation. They sit poised, their eyes on you.

Gracefully mounting Marshmallow, you settle into the saddle with practiced ease, a seamless fusion of rider and horse. Alongside the girls, you wait for the guys to arrive.

On top of the hill, four men adorned with cowboy hats emerge as the charge down the hill with an effortless equestrian elegance. The rhythmic cadence of hooves makes your heart feel giddy with anticipation and you take a moment to appreciate how incredible they all look on horseback.

Jungkook commands a fiery red stallion, its thick mane billowing gracefully in the wind, embodying untamed vitality. Meanwhile, Jimin guides a sleek black horse, distinguished by elegant white stockings that accentuate its majestic presence. Trailing closely behind, Yoongi and Hoseok navigate their sturdy brown horses. 

As they approach, the undeniable allure of these men becomes even more apparent. Is everyone in the country just handsome?

However, it's Jimin's eyes that captivate you instantly—deep pools reflecting a passion that seems to run as profound as the countryside hills. The cowboy hat sits stylishly on his head, allowing strands of his blonde hair to playfully escape. His green checkered button-down shirt clings snugly to his well-defined torso, sleeves casually rolled up. The denim pants and boots bear the marks of hard work, adorned with the earthy traces of the ranch.

Jungkook dons a shirt that molds perfectly to his sculpted pectorals, paired with snug denim jeans and sturdy boots. Yoongi opts for a white tank top, showcasing his lean arms and defined biceps. Meanwhile, Hoseok sports a loose gray shirt that complements his easygoing style, paired effortlessly with denim pants.

“Hi,” resonates in unison from the group of guys as they approach you near the barn. A smile graces your lips, but your attention quickly shifts to your sister, fully aware that she's likely crafted a meticulous plan for the upcoming cattle drive.

“Nice of you to make it in time,” Jessi grunts, a small smile playing on her lips, punctuated by a chuckle.

“Someone had to spend an eternity getting ready,” Jungkook quips, rolling his eyes and nodding toward Jimin. He follows it with a nonchalant shrug, not bothering to deny it.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Hoseok asks, brimming with eagerness to get started. Jungkook scoffs beside him, “Boss? She’s not your boss– I am.”

Hoseok burst out in a beautiful, contagious laughter, echoing through the air and drawing a chuckle from you.

“Kook, just shut up,” Jessi laughs, her voice carrying a hint of playful exasperation. Then, she takes a deep breath, steadying her posture, “We'll move the cattle from the northeastern paddock to the one closest to the Bell Ranch.”

Amidst nods from everyone, Yoongi leans down, patting his horse's neck with a soothing touch that elicits a deep, resonant whine from the animal. “Anything else?” he asks, his voice a calm undercurrent in the anticipation-laden air.

Jessi's gaze sweeps across the group, her eyes meeting each one in turn. A stern but determined expression settles on her face. 

“This is a stress-free drive, so remember, no pushing the cattle!” Her words hang in the air, setting the tone for the upcoming task.

Jessi orchestrates the plan with precision, assigning roles to each member of the team. “Me and Soo-ah will take the front, Ha-rin, Hoseok, Kook, and you,” she points directly at you, “will cover the sides, and then Jimin, Yoongi, and Ara will handle the back of the herd.” Her directive gaze holds a sense of purpose, and a unanimous agreement ripples through the group.

“Let’s get going!” Jessi announces, her voice bubbling with excitement as she nudges Cinnamon into a spirited gallop. Eagerly, the rest of the group surges forward, and you, too, urge Marshmallow into a rhythmic canter, the rhythmic beat of hooves creating a lively symphony as the cattle drive begins.

To reach the north-eastern paddock, the journey takes you over rolling hills and through a small forest, where fallen trees create impromptu jumping courses. Jungkook, seizing every opportunity, guides his horse with finesse over the natural obstacles. Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit, while Soo-ah and your sister eagerly join in on the exhilarating equine adventures.

As the group revels in the joy of riding, laughter fills the air as they expertly guide their horses over logs and obstacles, showcasing their agility and camaraderie. Meanwhile, the rest of you opt for the smoother path, enjoying the less rugged terrain.

Amidst the playful antics of the group, you observe Jimin refraining from the lively jumping games. However, his infectious laughter resonates, and his eyes crinkle in mirth.

you sense his attentive gaze lingering on you as you ride, creating a flutter that dances in your stomach reminiscent of the last time you felt his eyes roam your body.

As you reach the paddock, Jessi gracefully maneuvers Cinnamon into position, opening the gate from atop his back. With a synchronized pace, you guide your horses through the entrance.

“Alright, everyone, let's find our positions. And keep in mind— stress-free!” Jessi's eyes pierce through the group, emphasizing the importance of a calm approach. 

The importance of a stress-free approach for better cattle sales echoes in your mind, a principle she insists upon even when the herd isn't up for sale yet. It's Jessi's commitment to consistency, and you brace yourselves for the task ahead, determined to maintain the calm demeanor required for a successful drive.

Jessi and Soo-ah kick their horses into a measured trot, leading the way towards the grazing cattle. The rhythmic beats of hooves on the ground set the tone for the impending drive, as you and the rest of the group follow, creating a unified force propelling towards the herd.

With precise coordination, Ha-rin and Hoseok elegantly flank the right side of the cattle, while you and Jungkook synchronize on the left. Together, you form an unyielding circle, ensuring the cattle remain contained within your guiding presence. Bringing up the rear, Jimin, Yoongi, and Ara stand as guardians, securing the boundaries of the moving cattle.

As you gradually set the cattle in motion, your horses step purposefully, nudging the herd forward with a deliberate yet gentle momentum. The realization dawns on you that this endeavor could stretch into hours at the current pace. A silent acknowledgment passes through your mind – a subtle premonition that your ass is going to hurt after this damn long cattle drive. Sigh. 

Adjusting yourself in the saddle, a subtle awareness creeps over you, when you feel a tingling sensation run through your body – the distinct sense of Jimin's eyes tracing your movements. Expectantly, you turn to meet his gaze, only to find his attention fixated on the cattle, his expression unreadable. 

The vast expanse of open land surrounds you, the lush green grass beneath your horse's hooves and the endless blue sky overhead create a beautiful image, like straight from a painting. Despite the scorching summer heat, you appreciate the breathability of your t-shirt, confident it shields you from overheating. 

Glancing at Jimin, clad in a button-down shirt, you can't help but wonder if he's feeling the heat, beads of sweat possibly forming beneath the fabric.

As the chatter of small groups fills the air, you and Jungkook maintain a contemplative silence, guiding the cattle towards Bell Ranch at a deliberate pace. The rhythmic hoofbeats and the collective murmur create a serene backdrop to your silent partnership, each of you immersed in your own thoughts as the herd moves forward.

Jungkook maneuvers his horse closer to yours, prompting a curious look from you. Leaning in, he turns his head in your direction and asks, “Are you alright?” His voice carries a genuine concern, and you find yourself captivated by the unexpected tenderness in his eyes.

His unexpected question catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily wide-eyed. A soft chuckle escapes him as you gather your thoughts. 

“I'm fine,” you assure him with a gentle smile, the warmth in your expression matching the pleasant day unfolding around you.

His words hang in the air, laced with a playful smile that reaches his eyes. “I've sensed a bit of avoidance on your end since the barn party,” he says, punctuating the statement with a wink and a teasing smirk.

Your words rush out, a mix of surprise and reassurance. “I really wasn't avoiding you,” you start, hoping to convey that any perceived avoidance was unintentional. 

“Are you hurt because you wanted a relationship with me?” His words, delivered with an air of casual curiosity, strike a chord within you. The nonchalant tone belies the complexity of the question. In the initial moments, a pang of hurt may have flickered, not due to a desire for a relationship, but from the lingering sense that there might have been more beneath the surface between you.

His unexpected question leaves you momentarily flabbergasted. “No, Jungkook. I've just heard a lot…” Your sentence hangs in the air, interrupted by his swift interjection, “That I fuck around a lot?” The weight of his reputation hangs in the air, injecting a charged energy into the conversation.

As you nod in acknowledgment, he erupts into laughter, exuding an undeniable sense of self-contentment. There's a certain admiration that sprouts within you, witnessing his unapologetic confidence.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly cut out for relationships. I just wanted to clear the air, make sure you weren’t expecting something more from me,” he grins, and you reciprocate with a smile of your own.

“I don’t, but I’d love to be friends with you?” His face lights up at your words, a radiant smile nearly outshining the sun. Laughter bubbles up from within you, a newfound lightness filling your chest now that you’ve cleared the air.

Just when you anticipate him riding away, he edges even closer, your horses nearly touching. “Actually,” he leans in, whispering in your ear, “I've noticed the way Jimin looks at you.” 

Your ears and cheeks blaze with heat, and your heartbeat quickens, as if a spark could set you ablaze at any moment. Has Jungkook truly sensed the simmering tension between his brother and you? While in conversation with Jungkook, the weight of chocolate brown eyes drilling into your back intensifies, a silent observer.

A nervous chuckle escapes you, blending with Jungkook's laughter beside you. “I've also noticed the way you look at him,” he adds, his eyes glinting with a playful understanding that hints at the unspoken connection between you and Jimin.

This revelation tightens the grip of anxiety around your chest, your heart threatening to burst forth. You believed your feelings were veiled in subtlety, yet Jungkook's revelation suggests otherwise. Your palms turn clammy as his warm breath grazes your ear, a sensation that sends electric shivers coursing through your entire body.

Jungkook straightens up on his horse, creating some distance that allows you to breathe more freely. However, his words hang in the air, echoing in your mind. “You should make a move,” he suggests casually. Yet, his words echo in your mind, almost making you choke on the fresh air, and your eyes widen. Does he really think you should make a move on Jimin— won’t that be weird?

An awkward chuckle escapes your lips as you voice the concern that's been gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. 

“I mean, he's your brother… Won’t that be weird?” The words stumble out, a bit disjointed, revealing the nervous energy that now dances between you and Jungkook. The admission of your attraction to Jimin hangs in the air, making the situation more delicate than ever.

His honest words wash over you, a tide of reassurance in a sea of uncertainty. “I don't think it's weird, at least not for me,” Jungkook confesses, and suddenly, the weight of apprehension begins to lift. His understanding response offers a newfound comfort, nudging you to consider the possibility of embracing your feelings for Jimin.

He leans back into you, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “Also, he's looking at you now, practically undressing you with his eyes.” The words send a thrilling shiver down your spine, creating an electric surge inside your body and a charged atmosphere as you process the realization of Jimin’s lingering gaze.

You gulp, acutely aware of Jimin's lingering gaze that has been like a steady flame throughout the day, igniting a fire in your body that you're hesitant to stoke. Jungkook chuckles at your nervous reaction, and in that momentary distraction, you both fail to notice two cattle slipping away from your side.

“The cattle are out!” The urgency in Yoongi's shout pierces the air, and without a second thought, you and Jungkook kick your horses into a gallop, chasing after the errant cattle. Jimin swiftly takes your place at the side of the herd, seamlessly filling the gap left in your wake.

Side by side with Jungkook, you expertly corral the two stray cattle, seamlessly reintegrating them with the rest of the herd. Yet, a discerning glance from your sister reveals your momentary lapse in attention.

Her voice carries a hint of frustration as she scolds, “Didn't I emphasize a stress-free drive?” Her eyes reflect irritation as she shakes her head disapprovingly. Resuming your original positions with Jungkook, Jimin strides purposefully back to his spot at the rear of the herd.

Apologizing, you attempt to justify, “I'm sorry, but they were making a run for it…” However, Jessi isn't willing to accept your explanation.

Her frustration boils over, “You always mess things up—the feed, the tire, the gate, and now this!” With an exasperated exhale, she falls silent and resumes her position at the front of the group.

Your complexion drains of color, the weight of Jessi's accusations sinking in. Has she been keeping a tally of your every misstep? You're well aware of your frequent blunders, but Jessi's direct call-out stings. 

Gripping the reins tightly, you feel frustration coursing through your veins. With a deep breath, you fight to regain composure, not wanting to distress Marshmallow with your unsettled state.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook attempts to offer reassurance, but you're in no mood to accept it. The exhaustion of another setback on the cattle drive weighs heavily on you. “It's not okay,” you groan, a sense of deflation settling in. It seems like setbacks always find a way to plague you.

You pivot on Marshmallow, addressing Ara with urgency, “Ara, can we switch places?”

Ara offers you a gentle, reassuring smile, nodding in agreement as she guides her horse to your side. With a turn, you position Marshmallow at the back, now flanked by Jimin and Yoongi.

Frustration envelops the atmosphere at the back, and it's mostly yours. A silent tension lingers between you, Jimin, and Yoongi. It crosses your mind that they might be hesitant to engage in conversation, a realization that irritates you further.

“Just let it go,” Yoongi utters, his gaze fixed ahead, and for a moment, it's unclear if the advice is meant for you. Your retort comes swiftly, “Easy for you to say; you're not the one stumbling at every turn.” A frustrated exhale follows, tension thick in the air.

“He did in the beginning,” Jimin chimes in, a playful smile accompanying his laughter. Yoongi, rolling his eyes at Jimin’s jest, contributes, “I did. You learn from each and every one of your screw-ups.” 

“It's pointless,” you sigh, a heavy sense of defeat settling over you. It's time to call it quits.

Jimin visibly startles at your candid statement, a subtle flinch in his movements. The tension radiates through him, evident in the stiffening of his shoulders. Yoongi, wisely choosing silence, refrains from adding anything further, sensing it's not the moment to provoke.

The remainder of the drive proceeds with minor mishaps, and you successfully avoid major blunders in the back. However, upon reaching Bell Ranch, Jessi's dissatisfaction with your performance becomes glaringly apparent as she candidly expresses her discontent.

“I don’t want to get into it,” you share, burdened by your own errors and unwilling to hear your sister enumerate your shortcomings in ranch life. Surprisingly, she heeds your request, allowing you to brood in solitude while the others relish a well-deserved sip of water, celebrating the triumph of a fruitful cattle drive.

A somber cloud seems to loom over your head, making it challenging for you to partake in the joy and success radiating from the others.

“I’m going back to the ranch,” you announce to the group, their expressions registering surprise before they nod in acknowledgment. Striding purposefully, you make your way back to where Marshmallow is tethered to a post, swiftly mounting him. A gentle squeeze of your legs, and he bursts into a rapid gallop, carrying you away.

You surge over the undulating hills, the lush green grass beneath you, a cascade of dirt trailing in the wake of Marshmallow's swift strides. Granting him the freedom to unleash his energy, you, too, allow your emotions to unravel. This gallop, akin to the refreshing rain, brings a cleansing sensation, each stride lightening the burden on your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, you guide Marshmallow into a brisk trot, the anticipation building with each step. Upon reaching the barn, you meticulously strip away his gear, setting him free into the paddock alongside his equine companions, the sun casting a warm glow on the familiar surroundings.

Determined to shift your focus, you stride purposefully toward the main house, contemplating the idea of preparing a hearty dinner for the returning group. The uncertainty of their arrival lingers, but the thought of a satisfying meal upon their return fuels your motivation to create something special.

Seeking refuge in the kitchen, you throw yourself into the rhythm of meal preparation, attempting to drown out the echoes of your perceived failures. However, just as you find solace in the routine, a gentle pattering on the roof and windows interrupts your thoughts – the subtle arrival of rain. 

As you lose yourself in the culinary dance, time becomes elusive. When you finally lift your gaze from the bubbling pots, a captivating sight unfolds outside the kitchen window – the girls, drenched from the rain, riding back on horseback. The tantalizing aroma of dinner fills the air, and with their return, you hope to satisfy not only their hunger but also the unspoken cravings lingering in the rain-kissed atmosphere.

In a swift transition, they sweep into the house, their laughter mingling with the aroma of the rain outside. Together in the kitchen, a collaborative symphony ensues as you and the girls put the finishing touches on dinner, setting the table in the warm glow of the living room. Despite the subtle undercurrent of Jessi's irritation, you forge ahead, determined not to let it cast a shadow over the convivial atmosphere you're creating.

Amidst the shared warmth of the dinner table, Ha-rin expresses her gratitude, breaking into a chuckle that echoes the sentiment of relief. “Thank you for taking the reins in the kitchen,” she acknowledges, savoring the anticipation of a meal without the familiar duty of preparing it.

As you share a smile with Ha-rin, a peculiar tension lingers around the table, casting a shadow over the meal. Your appetite wanes, reduced to absentmindedly stabbing at the food on your plate.

“Why do you keep messing up?” Jessi's voice pierces the air, frustration palpable as her gaze locks onto you. The question hangs in the room, demanding an answer you're not sure how to provide. Honestly, the reasons behind your repeated slip-ups elude you, leaving a disconcerting silence in their wake.

You release a frustrated sigh, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. Clenching your hands in a bid to contain the brewing storm of emotions, you admit, “I... don't know.” 

The confession hangs in the air, a raw acknowledgment of your own confusion and struggle.

Jessi's frustration explodes, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp gust of wind. “I give you clear instructions, but you manage to mess it up every time!” 

Her words reverberate across the table, a storm of tension settling over the room, leaving the rest of the girls in hushed silence, their eyes darting between the two of you as the confrontation unfolds.

“I'm well aware that I mess things up, but damn it, I'm trying!” Your voice echoes with a mix of frustration and desperation, the words carrying a weight of both anger and a plea for understanding.

“If you can't handle it, then I don't want you here,” she declares with unwavering determination, and you find yourself gaping at her. The simmering anger within threatens to boil over, your hand involuntarily unclenching as the tension in the room tightens like a coiled spring.

“Maybe I should just leave then! Sell my share of the ranch,” you retort with a sharp edge, your heartbeat quickening as anger boils inside, transforming your thoughts into a seething red haze.

She scuffs, “Just go, but you’re never getting my signature.”

“I don’t need your signature. I consulted a lawyer, and he said I don’t need it,” you assert, crossing your arms firmly over your torso. 

Jessi's face turns pale at your revelation, and she hisses, “You wouldn’t dare!” 

She's fuming, but you don’t care. 

Unaware of the startled looks from the girls, Jessi has risen from her seat, poking her finger at you. “You wouldn’t dare,” she repeats, her voice seething with disbelief.

“I would,” you declare with unwavering certainty, rising from your seat across from your sister. The air crackles with tension as both of you yell at each other, and it feels like there's no turning back now.

Blinded by rage, you find yourself panting and seething, the room tainted with the color of your fury. The atmosphere becomes oppressive as Jessi slams her hands down onto the table, her words cutting through the air like venom. “I don't want you here. Get the fuck out, and I mean it this time,” she commands, each word carrying the weight of finality, stinging and lingering in the charged silence that follows.

“FINE,” you hiss, your hands clenched in frustration, a turbulent storm of emotions swirling within. It's a bitter realization that this place isn't for you, that your sister neither wants nor needs your presence. With a resigned exhale, you retreat from the table, striding out of the dining room and into the solitude of your guest room, the weight of rejection settling heavily on your shoulders.

You yank open your bags, tearing the closet apart to gather your belongings. The relentless rain pelts against the windows, mirroring the storm of emotions inside you. Frustration wells up within you, and as you navigate the room to collect your scattered belongings, the blur of tears makes it challenging to see. 

Damn it. 

This wasn't the outcome you anticipated.

You never quite found your place here, and perhaps you never truly belonged. Uncertainty engulfs you, a whirlwind of thoughts storming within your mind. Yet, now you're bound for the city. Your heart tightens at the prospect of returning, leaving behind a place that, against all odds, had grown dear to you.

But in the grand scheme of it all, none of it holds significance now. You hastily cram the remaining belongings into your bags and sling them over your shoulders. Your initial packing was minimal, and your city friend's contributions were modest, a reflection of the short-lived stay you had anticipated from the beginning.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you exit the guest room, traversing through the familiar dining room. Pausing in the doorway, you let the weight of the moment settle, and with a resigned tone, you utter, “I suppose this is our farewell.”

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin bid you a somber farewell, their eyes reflecting sadness, but as you turn to face Jessi, her gaze remains stubbornly averted. The palpable tension weighs on you, causing your shoulders to slump in defeat. With a heavy heart, you step outside, making your way to your parked car.

As the rain continues to cascade around you, you disregard the wetness, traversing the distance from the main house to your car. The downpour soaks you thoroughly as you hurriedly stow your bags in the vehicle. Seated inside, a poignant moment unfolds, mirroring the tears glistening in your eyes with the relentless rain outside.

With a heart weighed down by the burdens of departure, you insert the key into the ignition, the mechanical click echoing the emotional weight within. As the engine hums to life, it serves as a reluctant melody to the bittersweet symphony of leaving.

An unsettling sense of déjà vu envelops you as you bid farewell to this familiar haven for the second time. Yet, this departure bears the weight of your own volition, amplifying the melancholy that lingers in the air. 

Regret creeps in, leaving a bitter aftertaste as you press down on the gas, steering the car away from what you once called home, now fading into the rearview mirror.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 I’m not really feeling very well at the moment. I’m very depressed and I was even hospitalized last week because of trigger warning suicidal thoughts… anyway. I’m struggling, but I enjoy writing this, and I’m gonna see it to the end, even though I feel very disheartened by the notes (I really shouldn’t look, but I’m only human, lol. And I’m comparing it to my other works, not other’s because that can get dangerous real fast!). But anyway. Writing is therapeutic for me, but posting seems to be the hurdle for me now… so I’m thinking— only thinking, that this story might be the last one that I post. I don’t know yet. Just a thought. Anyway. I’m very happy to have some lovely friends here— thank you guys! You already know who you are 🫶✨

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[bsdtakanenohana]

My Opinion On Every Single Bungou Stray Dogs Ship

Part Five- Het Ships V

This is the last one for m/f ships! I swear there should be more, but I guess as random as some pairings seem, people aren’t just pairing any woman with any man, because there’s lots of female characters who were not paired with many of the various male characters (for example, even though Yosano had a random ship with Mark, there was none with Tanizaki or Fukuzawa who are people she actually interacts with). This makes the ships I’ve seen so far more interesting because that means the random pairings were actually thought out by the people who ship them.

Part One, Two, Three, & Four

Tachigin/ Michizou Tachihara x Gin Akutagawa: The most popular m/f ship in this fandom. Which I will never understand. I understand why people ship them, but it being the most popular het ship is frankly ridiculous. Gin has like four lines and while we do know more about Tachihara he’s a side character through and through. It would make more sense for the most popular m/f ship to be characters that we know more about, who are more relevant to the plot, and who are more popular. Because I’ve seen the most popular character polls and neither of them make the cut, so how is their ship more popular than all the others? I believe part of it is the way the fandom views Gin (and it’s not a good thing) but I don’t want to get into that conversation. I think it’s an intriguing ship but I don’t care enough about it to be so invested in it. And I don’t understand others’ minds. And you know what? Even though I think this should be a four, I’m giving it a slightly lower score just because I’m petty and don’t like that it’s so popular. 3.5/10

He’s pressing his gun up against her boob, no way he didn’t feel something.

Tachiguchi/ Michizou Tachihara x Ichiyo Higuchi: I haven’t seen this pairing outside of the ot3 of them with Gin. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I don’t really have an opinion on this. I don’t see it, it’s just there as a pairing of two people who work together. 2/10

Tachiguchi 2.0/ Shunzen Tachihara x Ichiyo Higuchi’s younger sister: What? Where are y’all coming up with these things? ?? 0/10

Tachiteru/ Michizou Tachihara x Teruko Okura: I’m sure before the age reveal this was a ship with a lively little fandom. I’ve never seen anyone mention this ship, but I’m interested in how y’all portrayed them in a romantic light. 2/10

Why is she so happy 🤣

Tachilucy/ Michizou Tachihara x Lucy Maud Montgomery: Uhh if you’re trying to ship Lucy with every redhead you should know he’s a fake ginger and all you skipped Oda and Chuuya. Also I don’t think their personalities would even mesh well. 1/10

Tanilucy/ Junichiro Tanizaki x Lucy Maud Montgomery: No. 0/10

Terusigma/ Teruko Okura x Sigma: Finally, a ship with someone she’s too old for! (Teehee) My answer is no and also this fandom is too infatuated with the idea of enemies to lovers or enemies and lovers 🙄 -1/10

Tsujichuu/ Mizuki Tsujimura x Chuuya Nakahara: They met once, but I don’t know enough about her personality to say if they’d have chemistry. However, back in 2021 I remember seeing an ask someone sent in to one of y’all asking something like “do you think they hooked up” and instead of the OP saying “dude wtf” there was a genuine answer typed out on whatever possible relationship they had. So y’all are serious with this one for whatever reason. -/10

Tsujizai/ Mizuki Tsujimura x Osamu Dazai: Why? That’s a serious question. -/10

Vernwells/ Jules Gabriel Verne x Herbert George Wells: This is kinda funny, imo. But no. 0/10

Yuanzai/ Yuan x Osamu Dazai: I’ve been seeing more posts about this ship recently and it’s so confusing. Out of all the female characters y’all wanna make ship content with Dazai, you chose her?? Just ship him with an OC at this point. But she has cute pink hair (I refuse to acknowledge Teruko as having pink hair, the manga gave her a shade of red [as in actual red not orange] and I like that better for her) so I’ll give the ship half a point for that. 0.5/10

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Onset - Chapter Two.

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Valerie (OC) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Established Friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, Self-Insert, Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Brief mention of an inability to get pregnant, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, if I tagged everything we’d be here all day, This is part of a series

Part 3 of Sundane

Previous Part: Egg Fried Rice

Previous Chapter: One

Summary:

He isn’t expecting her to throw his earlier words back at him that way, and it catches him off-guard. “Why do you always remember the dumb shit I say?”

“Was it dumb?”

“It wasn’t absolute,” he mumbles. He pauses, knowing that if he says what he wants to say next, he’ll kick himself for it.

He says it anyway. “Sometimes one slips through the cracks, you know,” he adds softly. “Sometimes, there’s one that really is special.”

Read on AO3

“I’m sorry about what I said.”

She’s started to doze off when he says it, and it takes her sluggish, sated brain a few seconds to catch up with her ears. “What?” 

Shit. He’s torn between two feelings. The first is annoyance that she hasn’t somehow magically read his mind and figured out what he’s apologizing for. He doesn’t want to have to explain himself. He wants her to know why he’s sorry, so they can move past it and forget it happened.

The second, more prominent feeling is that pang of guilt that’s resurfaced, sticking in his side and reminding him that he actually does owe her an apology for what he said earlier. He once again pushes that pang of guilt back into the abyss, but the residual feelings that linger leave him wanting to clear the air. “What I said earlier,” he sighs. “About you not being able to get pregnant. I know it’s a sore spot for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says with a shrug. “It’s not like you to feel sympathy for something like that, and it isn’t something other people care about either.”

He lifts his head from her stomach to look up at her. She’s smiling, but he gets the feeling it’s because she thinks she should be. “You wanna talk about it?”

Her fingers pause in their movement in his hair as she considers his face. His expression is open, non-judgmental, as if meant to make her feel like she can continue talking about this if she wants to. Part of her wants to spill everything - to tell him these feelings that she’s never shared with anyone else. But part of her feels like talking about this with Suguru would be like opening a door she won’t ever be able to close again. 

She is still contemplating opening that door when she feels the soft warmth of Suguru’s lips against her skin. It’s a gentle kiss on her hip, and she thinks it feels a little like encouragement.

“Well,” she starts softly, resuming her gentle strokes through his hair. “You’re right, it’s a sore spot. The thing itself is something that I know I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life, and I can deal with it. But whenever people find out, they only ever acknowledge the thing itself. They don’t acknowledge all the complicated feelings that come with it. 

“It isn’t a choice I wanted to make,” she goes on. “And if I’d had the ability to choose otherwise, I would have. People who have gotten to choose - and who still can - don’t seem to understand that. So when they say things like ‘you’re not missing anything’ and ‘you’re lucky you still have your freedom,’ it just ends up feeling like… like they’re invalidating how I really feel and telling me how they think I should feel instead.” She pauses. “Enjoying the life that I have now and feeling like I’m missing out on that thing I can’t have aren’t mutually exclusive, you know?”

“I get it,” Suguru muses. “Kinda like somebody who insinuates you should be relieved that your chronically ill parent has finally died. Like, yeah, taking care of them and being worried all the time while they’re alive and sick is stressful and emotionally draining. But it doesn’t mean you want them to die, and it doesn’t mean you don’t miss them when they do.”

Stunned, she stares down at him. “Huh. Actually, yeah. That’s a pretty accurate comparison.”

Suguru is quiet for a long time. When he finally speaks, it isn’t to tease her or to make fun of what she’s told him. “Now that I know how you really feel about it,” he starts quietly, “I don’t think it’s something I could ever joke about. And I’m doubly sorry for making light of it before.”

She hates that there’s a lump in her throat, and so she speaks before that lump can manifest itself in tears. “Why are you being so sweet to me?”

“I told you I was giving you the princess treatment today.”

“Right,” she recalls. “It doesn’t hurt to make them feel special, even if they’re not. That’s what you said.” 

He isn’t expecting her to throw his earlier words back at him that way, and it catches him off-guard. “Why do you always remember the dumb shit I say?”

“Was it dumb?”

“It wasn’t absolute,” he mumbles. He pauses, knowing that if he says what he wants to say next, he’ll kick himself for it. 

He says it anyway. “Sometimes one slips through the cracks, you know,” he adds softly. “Sometimes, there’s one that really is special.”

His words hit her right in her chest, hard enough to make her take a deep breath. It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask - am I special? She bites the words back, unsure if she’d even want to know the answer. 

“Come on,” Suguru says, when it’s clear she isn’t going to speak. He sits up, taking hold of her hands.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re gonna wait for me in the shower while I change your sheets,” he tells her, pulling her up into a sitting position. “Unless you wanna sleep in a bed full of my sweat and cum,” he adds with a smirk. “Some people have a thing for that.”

“Wait for you?” She repeats, choosing to ignore the latter part of what he’s said. She lets him pull her off of the bed, lets him maneuver his rumpled shirt over her head so she can have something to give her a bit of warmth and some semblance of decency. 

Suguru himself doesn’t seem to care about warmth or decency as he begins stripping the bed of its sheets in only his skin. “Mmhm,” he murmurs patiently, pausing to push her in the direction of the bathroom on the other side of her bedroom. “I won’t be long. Run the water, yeah? Make sure it’s warm, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Stop reading into it, she scolds herself. This is all routine for him. “Right,” she laughs. “It always takes at least ten minutes for it to get hot.”

He makes an affirming noise and turns his attention back to the bed. She stands there for a moment longer - enjoying the view, she would say if anyone asks her - before turning away. 

--

He finds her in the bathroom a few minutes later. “Is it hot?” He nods in the direction of the shower. 

“Yeah.” She’s feeling suddenly awkward, ridiculously bashful. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

Puzzled, Suguru looks back at her. “If I wanted separate showers, I would’ve just showered in my own bathroom,” he points out. “I told you to wait for me so we could go in together,” he adds, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the two of them to co-shower. 

“I know how to bathe myself,” she retorts. “I’m not a kid.”

“Good, because I don’t fuck kids,” he snickers. “What I do do, however, is make sure the adults I fuck are well-taken care of. Both in bed and outside of it,” he adds, tilting his head and leaning close so he can look her directly in the eye. “So you can either climb into the shower yourself, or I can lift you up and put you there. Whatever you like.”

She stays where she is long enough to say, “You said doodoo.” 

His palm just misses her ass as she scurries away. 

--

Showering is a functional thing; she knows that it’s meant to serve the purpose of getting a body clean. Even though she’s taken showers with lovers before (should she think of Suguru as a lover? While it’s true that they’ve had sex, she is hesitant to bestow that title on him just yet), she has never viewed anything about the act of showering in itself as sexy.

But she would be hard-pressed to deny that there is something incredibly erotic about the way her roommate-turned-bedfellow handles her in the shower. His touch is gentle, her washcloth an extension of his hands as he bathes her. Nothing that he does is designed to arouse her, but she finds herself marveling at how the way he’s touching her feels almost more intimate than what they’ve just done in her bed.

“You’re good at this,” she tells him, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the steady stream of water coming out of both showerheads. 

“I know,” he asserts, a smug expression on his face. “Aren’t you glad you waited for me?”

She leans forward, sinking her teeth into one of his pectorals. It isn’t meant to hurt, just to shut him up, and he yelps. Satisfied, she leans back to look at the faint little bite marks left behind.

“Haven’t you marked me up enough?” He grouses.

“I could say the same about you,” she shoots back. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t planning on wearing anything low-cut to work tomorrow.” 

“Dummy,” he laughs, reaching for the washcloth he’d brought in for himself. “You work from home. Who would see you anyway?”

She shrugs. “Zooms are still a thing, you know.” She watches him pour her peony-scented body wash onto his washcloth. “You’re gonna smell like me,” she warns.

“Where am I going that anybody would care? You like it enough to have it, and you’re the only one who’s gonna smell me.”

“Good point.” She watches him lather himself up for a few minutes longer. Then, “Let me help.”

He obliges her. When she gets to his back, she pauses. The scratches weren’t enough to draw blood, but she can see that she did end up breaking the skin in a few places. She’s careful when washing those spots, trying to emulate the gentle way he’d cleaned her. 

Suguru goes quiet for the duration of the time they’re in the shower, and she wonders what he’s thinking about.

--

“I don’t need that,” he protests, keeping his elbow raised to block her approach. 

“It takes six seconds for your skin to dry out once you’ve washed your face.” She’s brandishing one of her high-end skincare products like a weapon. “You should at least moisturize it.” 

“I don’t need it,” he repeats stubbornly.

“I beg to differ,” she sighs. “You may not see the difference right now, but you will in five or ten years.” 

He rolls his eyes at her but says nothing. Nor does he lower his arm.

“Suguru,” she huffs, exasperated. “You can’t expect to pamper me and not let me do the same for you.”

He looks down at her. “Is that what this is?” He motions to the bottle of moisturizer in her hand. “Is this your version of aftercare?”

“If I say yes, will you let me put it on you?”

She thinks he’s going to say no again. To her mild shock and utter delight, he lowers his defense arm and sits obediently on the closed toilet lid. “Fine,” he assents. “But just this once.”

“That’s what they all say,” she grins. “I’ll have you hooked on Dermalogica in no time.”

She treats his skin exactly the way she’s treated her own post-cleanse: toner, moisturizer, eye cream, and serum. She applies each product carefully, her touch gentle as she uses the pads of her fingers to massage the liquids and creams into his skin. 

“You do this every night?” He asks when she’s done, watching her line the bottles back up in the organizer on her vanity.

“Yep,” she tells him, her attention focused on what she’s doing. “Morning has a slightly different routine.”

He’s still sitting on the closed toilet lid. She’s within reach, straightening the other bottles and tubes in her organizer. It would be so easy to wrap his arm around her waist and bring her nearer to him, to pull her down into his lap. To cradle her close so he can breathe in the smell of her hair and feel her soft skin against his once more. So he can register her heart beating against his chest and put one hand against her back to feel her breathing.

His hand actually twitches with the urge. Shit, he thinks, as he balls the hand into a fist. What the fuck is wrong with me?

--

Valerie finds it curious, the way they’ve picked right back up where they left off, like slipping on a pair of well-worn pants. Suguru takes out the leftover fried rice that they’d had the presence of mind to put in the fridge and dumps it into a pan for reheating while she scrolls through their shared streaming apps to find something they can watch while they eat.

She’s been sure that it would feel awkward to spend time together the way they normally do after what’s transpired between them. If it weren’t for the soreness in her legs and the burgeoning love bites on her neck and chest, she would wonder if what they did was simply a figment of her imagination. Just further proof you are not one of the special ones, her brain reminds her, unsolicited. You never are, remember?

“Shut up,” she mutters back at it.

“What was that?” Suguru calls from the kitchen. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“I was just asking what you’re in the mood to watch,” she calls back.

“Pick whatever you want. All that stuff in the community queues is stuff we both wanted to watch, so it doesn’t really matter to me.”

She finally settles on a lighthearted comedy they’ve both watched before. It’s an old favorite and one that doesn’t require their full attention to follow. He seems pleased with what she’s chosen when he finally joins her, handing her a bowl and a spoon and settling next to her with his own food. 

Halfway through the third episode, she mutters, “I usually put on my headphones, you know.” 

Suguru turns to look at her, amused. “Is this a conversation I’m invited to join, or should I leave the room and let you continue?” He asks, pausing the show.

“I was talking to you,” she sighs. “You asked me - earlier - if I was gonna pretend I’ve never heard you jerking off.” She shrugs, fiddling with the blanket in her lap. “I have, but whenever I know you are, I just put my noise cancelers on for a while.”

“Why?”

She stares at him. “Because that’s private. It’s not something I should listen to.” 

“Maybe not.” He laughs. “But are you saying you wanted to?”

“Suguru.”

“What? It’s a fair question, isn’t it?” He shifts on the sofa, turning to face her full-on. 

“Actually, it isn’t,” she huffs with a laugh. 

“Can’t be that you’re embarrassed,” he goes on. He leans forward, a teasing smirk on his face and his eyes trained on hers. “You let me put a part of my body inside yours. Actually,” he amends thoughtfully, “I’ve had several parts of my body inside yours.” 

“You get on my damn nerves.” She snatches both bowls up and gets up to carry them into the kitchen. 

Of course he follows her. “You still didn’t say yes or no,” he insists. 

Valerie turns to him, offering him her sweetest smile. “It will be a cold day in hell before I do that, Suguru.” 

“Hmm.” He leans back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “I think the fact that you refuse to answer me is probably an answer within itself.”

“Fuck off.”

It only makes him laugh. “Fine,” he says finally. “You don’t have to tell me. But until you say otherwise, I’m just gonna assume the answer is yes.” 

Once again there are words threatening to escape her; she wants to tell him that he’s right, that she does want to hear him jerking himself off. But more than that, she wants it to be her he’s thinking of when he wraps his hand around himself and thrusts into his fist. She wants it to be her face he’s seeing when he closes his eyes, when he’s putting himself in danger of going lightheaded because it feels so good he’s forgetting to breathe. 

She says none of those things. “Keep dreaming,” she says, flashing him another sweet smile. “Let’s go - the tv’s probably timed out on us.” 

Something unreadable passes across his face, too quick for her to identify it. After the split second that she sees it, he smiles casually back at her, and whatever was beneath the mask he now wears is lost forever. “Yeah.”

About Me | My Fics | Ask

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Can’t Help Falling in Love- B.Barnes

Summary: A snowy day in the Barnes Household, Bucky baking with his daughter, his wife and son busy decorating their house for the holiday.

Pairings: Bucky x fem!Reader, Dad!Bucky x OC!Twins Sarah and Stevie

Fic Warnings: Bucky as a girl dad, Bucky is a good husband, use of Y/N, Female Reader

Author’s Note: To those who celebrate, happy Thanksgiving! I suck at ending fics so if there are any suggestions please let me know, they are welcomed. My asks are open so if you have any questions or suggestions please feel free to send them in. 

My full Masterlist

Word Count: 840

Hope you enjoy! :)

not my gif!

A chilly December morning, snow dancing through the sky, the Barnes family was getting their cozy home ready for the upcoming holidays. Bucky was in the kitchen baking with one of the twins, Sarah. His wife was in a cleaning frenzy, cleaning every nook and cranny of the house and the other twin, Stevie, he was helping his mom clean up, manning the vacuum for her. They were hosting Christmas in their new house, they had bought it in November and had just finished making it into a home. They were excited but the two adults stressed out over the fact that they were having people stay over and they still had so much to do.

There were still boxes scattered around that Bucky had moved up to the attic for the time being, their picture frames still needed to be hung on the walls, their Christmas tree still hadn’t gotten put up yet, the bookshelf in the living room had only books on it and none of their family photos or sentimental knick-knacks. That was what Y/N was doing after she had finished cleaning. She enlisted the help of Stevie and the two of them got their sentimental items up in no time. When it came time to hang pictures, however, she knew she needed Bucky’s help for that. 

She was clumsy and was prone to injuring herself doing mundane tasks like putting on clothing. She knew that if she was going to be hanging pictures, she’d hit her hand with the hammer countless times before actually getting the nail in the wall. So, she made her way into the kitchen where Bucky and Sarah were at the counter, backs turned, mixing dough in the stand mixer. The two of them sporting matching braids, Bucky having a single french braid down the middle and Sarah having french braid pigtails. Y/N padded her way behind her husband, her arms snaking around his waist and her forehead resting on the center of his back.

“Hi mama, wanna help us make cookies?” Bucky asked his wife, his hands grabbing hold of her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll leave that to the professionals. When you’re all done, can you help me get the pictures up on the wall? I’m clumsy and Stevie can barely lift the hammer,” She replied, planting a kiss on the back of his left shoulder at the end of her sentence.

“I most certainly can help you, but you need to taste test our chocolate chips first. It’s your favorite recipe of mine, made them just for my girls.” Bucky had turned in his wife’s arms, holding a cooled chocolate chip cookie out for her to eat. She took a bite and nearly melted at the taste. Bucky had a way about making cookies, no matter what, they always turned out so flavorful and delicious. Of course she went in for another bite, then another, until the cookie was gone. Bucky let out a chuckle as he wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumbs. “I take that you liked them, see that princess? I told you mommy would love our cookies.”

“Of course I would, two of my favorite people in the whole world made them. Good job, my loves,” She turned to her daughter and started to whisper, “I know you did all of the hard work. They were the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.” She knew Bucky could hear her but she did that intentionally. Sarah’s little face lit up at her mother’s praise, giving her a big hug and a big kiss on the cheek. “I love you, princess. Why don’t you go help your brother get some of the decorations up? Give yourself a break from baking for a little while.”

“I love you too, mommy! I’ll make sure Stevie doesn’t mess up the garland like last year,” Sarah replied before rushing out of the kitchen to her twin. 

Bucky’s hands had now found their way to Y/N’s waist, resting right above her hips. Her arms had found their way around his neck, her hands messing with the end of his braid. He had grabbed her phone and changed the Christmas music that was playing to a playlist that Y/N had made when they first got married. It was a mix of songs that the two of them loved, songs that reminded them of each other, some of them were just some classic love songs. The first song that came on was a cover of an old classic, Can’t Help Falling in Love by Haley Reinhart. 

The two of them swayed gently to the music, getting lost in each other. Bucky had leaned down and connected their lips into a sweet kiss, only to get interrupted seconds later by their children fake vomiting at the sight. All that was heard the rest of the night was the laughter of the two children and their parents, holiday music playing throughout the house and the occasional suggestion from Alpine.

[ac-liveblogs]

So if you want a real answer for went wrong in Boruto let me explain.

Boruto is pretty much written by people who really don't like Naruto as a series because it goes out of its way to shit on the Naruto series (taking away Naruto and Sasuke's power-ups at the first chance which basically reverted them to beginning of Naruto, Naruto and Sasuke). The editor for Boruto is apparently a simp for Sadara. They just really don't like Naruto as a series because:

He's apparently just a missing dad but you probably knew this already.

Absolutely no respect for Naruto characters whatsoever.

They hate ninjas because everything is now aliens and machinery in Boruto. Also, a lot of retconning Naruto stuff to be oh aliens are the reason this exists.

Orochimaru is just there and no one remembers he's not to be trusted.

There's apparently a dimension where one of the villains just has multiple ten-tails clones in there and its weird.

So yeah... I don't even want to know what the fuck happened. The kicker is that Kishimoto, from what I've heard has not been that active in Boruto. His editor pretty much runs the show is what I have heard a lot.

The most I've seen of Boruto was the movie, where Naruto being an absent parent was solved because Boruto just didn't realise how cool his dad was... I think. I just kinda left that movie gobsmacked. Don't you see how cool your dad is Boruto. And also 'jutsu in a can' is illegal in the Chuunin exams for some reason? Literally why, they're a tool you can use...

Thanks for the response, I appreciate the insight. I can see how some of these problems might have come around, like trying to balance Naruto and Sasuke's absolutely absurd power levels against literally any kind of threat, or coming up with an enemy for Konoha to fight that wouldn't leave a black mark on Naruto's reign as Hokage... and the inherent issue of 'no one is watching this for the new characters, they want to see the old ones, but this isn't about them' you'll inevitably get with a next-gen sequel.

No one watched Boruto the movie for Boruto. No one.

But like... why make a next-gen sequel for Naruto of all series? I get why from a 'we want money' sense, but I feel they could've just animated the light novels or fillers into eternity and people would've been happier with those.

"Here's 40 episodes of Kakashi and Itachi in ANBU" or something, I don't know. I'd watch 10 episodes of Sasori's descent into absolute madness.

Maybe the reason they went "ALIENS" is because of Kishimoto's failed sci-fi manga? But it's weird he's hands off given I thought he took over the manga from someone else...

Btw, to add onto what the anon that sent the I gave up on Boruto ask, its a bigger problem than it being the typical female characters don't matter still in Boruto. Its that no one matters in Boruto except Boruto and Kiwaki. Everyone else just gets shit on. Like imagine the old Naruto is x fanfics but actually made real. That's Boruto. He's got everything and he's the bestest and specialest boy.

:/ That sucks. Why bother forcing so many pairings to produce kids if you don't even wanna use 'em. Sasuke didn't deserve this. But also, how are you simultaneously a simp for Sarada and don't really use her? Just shove her in stupid outfits and call it a day...?

I still don't know anything about Kawaki!? He's a moon boy too, right? It feels so weird to neglect the rest of Boruto's team, though. What's the point.

Boruto does really feel like an edgy OC. He's got Byakugan+1 AND Sasuke is his teacher... honestly, Sasuke as a mentor to Naruto's kid is cute in theory, except for the part where he's also a deadbeat dad to a whole other child (his own).

I couldn't help reading TBV thinking "...why didn't they just do this kind of plot with Naruto himself or something". Though I guess they kind of? Did? With Road To Ninja? The opposite direction?

Btw, unless I'm mistaken I don't think Naruto actually forgave Orochimaru. I think he just forgot because Kishimoto forgot about a lot of what happened in part 1 of Naruto except Sasuke imo.

Incredible.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Living Up To The ‘Legacy P.7 ✈️| Top Gun Maverick Series Finale

Contains major spoilers for TGM

Read parts 1-6 here -> Series Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Barbara ‘Legacy’ Mitchell (past/eventual romance), Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x daughter!OC (platonic), Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin (platonic), Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floy (platonic), Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace (platonic), pretty much the rest of the characters are platonic.

Content Warnings: major angst that ends in fluff, profanity, combat accidents, light panic attack. Suggestive content near the end | Female OC (she/her) | wc: 8k+

Premise: Barbara Mitchell was helpless as she stood in the control room of the carrier, watching alongside the crew as her father, lover, and friends set forth on the high risk mission they spent weeks preparing for. Time is of the essence, and Barbara could only sit back and pray they make it out alive despite potential obstacles thrown at them. The fate of her future depends on it.

Note: guys we are finally here! The final part of my Legacy series 🥹 i actually wanna tear up cause I’m kinda sad it’s over. I loved this movie so much and these characters and Barbara has a special place in my heart. I still have the epilogue so don’t worry it’s not fully over just yet. And who knows maybe I’ll do some drabbles that are part of this series in the future. Thank you to everyone who has followed me, gave me feedback and has waited patiently. Much love to you all and thank you for the support! See you in the epilogue.

——————————————

“Dagger One, up and ready on Catapult One.”

Barbara was nervously chewing on her bottom lip, standing beside Hondo as they watched the screens in front of them with the crew. Admiral Simpson and Bates were not too far from them while they waited for the Squad. Maverick was the first to report.

Next came Hangman, “Dagger Spare standing by.”

“Dagger Four, up and ready,” Payback relayed followed by Phoenix, “Dagger Three, up and ready.” Barbara held her breath as the last person reported. Rooster. “Dagger Two, up and ready.”

The comms officer nodded to Cyclone, “Support assets airborne. Strike package ready. Standing by for launch decision.”

“Send them.” Seconds after Cyclone’s order, a light rumble could be felt above the crew. It continued for several seconds, indicating the Dagger Squad was in the air.

“Dagger One away…….Dagger Two away….Dagger Three away……Dagger Four away.”

Fumbling with her dog tags, Barbara could hear the beeping of the radar while her eyes watched the image of the four planes flying in formation toward enemy territory.

“Comanche, Dagger One. Standby check in,” Maverick said through the comms. A response came a moment later, “Comanche one-one, set. Picture clean. Recommend Dagger continue.”

“Copy. Daggers descending below radar.”

The beeping of the radar signaling their position continues to beep until coming to a stop. “Daggers now below radar. Switching to E-2 picture.” The screen enlarged as it switched to E-2. Barbara could see the planes listed with her teammates' callsign as they continued in formation. She and Hondo shared a look.

“Here we go. Enemy territory up ahead. Feet dry in sixty seconds. Comanche, Dagger One. Picture.”

“Comanche. Picture clean. Decision is yours.”

“Copy,” Maverick said before falling silent. Seconds later his voice returned with the order, “Dagger attack.” Though faint, Barbara could make out the sound of tomahawks firing off of the nearby ship aimed to destroy the enemy’s runway. They appeared on the picture with the second comms officer stating, “Tomahawks airborne.”

“No turning back now,” Warlock made the comment, eyes locked on the image of the missiles passing the Squad. Maverick once again spoke into the comms, but it was too his team, “Daggers, assume attack formation.” Slowly with sharpness, the planes maneuvered with Phoenix and Rooster moving in between Maverick and Payback. “Dagger set. Proceeding to target. Two minutes and thirty seconds in three, two, one, mark.”

“Two mark.”

“Three mark.”

“Four mark.”

A click beside her had Barbara turning her head slightly, noticing Hondo had a pocket watch timer in his hand. The steady pace of her heart started to increase as the nerves filled her when Mav said, “Going in.” At that moment the team entered the terrain, making the first of many tight turns they were to endure while increasing their speed. “First SAM site overhead.”

That sent chills in Barbara. She could only imagine what her teammates were thinking with the threat of SAMs right above their heads. Yeah she had successfully done the course, but it wasn’t like it was the real deal.

“Looks like we’re clear on radar, Mav,” Phoenix said. While it gave Barbara a sense of relief, she knew better than to think they were safe. Maverick had the same idea, for he replied, “Let’s not take it for granted.”

“More SAMs!” Fanboy exclaimed. “Three o’clock high!”

“We got two minutes to target,” the update came from Bob.

“Copy. We’re a few seconds behind, Rooster. We got to move.” Barbara stiffened, watching how Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy’s jets were gaining distance between them and the others. Just seeing it send a wave of dread. Even being a second behind could make or break the mission.

“C’mon, baby,” she muttered under her breath while the comms officer reported the tomahawk location. “Thirty seconds to Tomahawk impact on enemy airstrip.” Those thirty seconds were gonna pass quick, and unfortunately it was about to have new obstacle.

“Dagger, Comanche. We’re picking up two bandits. Single group, two contacts.” Eyes widening, Barbara mentally cursed and glanced at Cyclone who also appeared surprised, “Where the hell’d they come from?”

Warlock had no clue, “Long-range patrol?” He offered. ‘It had to have been,’ Barbara thought to herself. There was no way the enemy would leave their territory unguarded when they knew their illegal uranium plant was set to become operational. They had to have expected someone to take it out.

“Comanche, what’s their heading?” Phoenix asked, and Barbara could make out the light waver of her voice despite trying to remain calm.

“Bull’s-eye 090, 50, tacked southwest.”

“They’re headed away from us. They don’t know we’re here.”

“The second those Tomahawks hit the air base, those bandits are gonna move to defend the target,” Maverick’s voice came in a rush, the adrenaline starting to take over. “We have to get there before they do. Increase speed.”

“We got you, Mav. Don’t wait for me.” While Maverick and Phoenix's jets pushed forward—the screen showing their location on the terrain—as they increased speed, Rooster and Payback remained behind. It had Barbara squeezing her eyes shut, a slight tremor in her hand when she brought it to her forehead.

“Sir, Daggers Two and Four are behind schedule. Time to target, one minute twenty.” The second comms officer followed the first with, “Tomahawk impact in three, two, one.” Not a moment later he is calling out, “Impact. Enemy runway destroyed.”

“They know we’re coming now.”

Cyclone was right, because the Comanche comms officer reported, “Bandits are switching course to defend the target.”

“Rooster, where are you?” Maverick asks, causing Barbara’s heart to skip. Distance between them had been gained and they were falling seconds behind what they needed to be. Payback voiced his frustration, “Come on, Rooster. Bandits inbound. We got to make up time now. Let’s turn and burn.”

Barbara’s eyes closed in a silent prayer. It may have been a mistake to be in the control room. As much as she felt she’d be worried sick remaining in her room by herself, the anxiety was overwhelming. There was no way she’d be able to remain calm if she were alone.

“Heads up, Phoenix.”

“Whoa!” Bob shouted which made Barbara look up at the screen. There must’ve been an obstacle they did not anticipate in the terrain.

“Sir, bandits are two minutes from target,” the comms officer relayed, catching everyone’s attention. “Daggers are one minute from target.”

“Come on, Rooster,” Hondo muttered with a shake of the head. “Move it or lose it.”

Fanboy thought the same, “Guys, we’re falling behind. We really gotta move.”

“If we don’t increase our speed right now, those bandits are gonna be waiting for us when we reach the target.”

“Talk to me, dad.”

Nothing could stop the glistening of Barbara’s eyes when she heard Rooster say those words. It told her everything about how Rooster was feeling at that moment. His dad was the only one who could get him through what came next. What followed was a sob in the back of her throat as her own father replied, “Come on kid, you can do it. Don’t think, just do.”

It must have been enough, because before she knew it she was witnessing Rooster’s plane shoot forward, leaving Payback behind who responded quickly, “Jesus, Rooster, not that fast!”

“There you go, baby,” she whispered to herself, feeling a small smile on her lips. Maverick was also pleased, “That's it, kid, that’s it.”

Rooster’s voice was confident as he spoke, “All right, let’s go.” They were back in the game. It would take a moment for them to catch up to the others, but their speed had increased so much they had Barbara worried about the turns. “Damn, Rooster, take it easy.”

“Sir, Dagger Two is reengaging.”

“All right,” Cyclone sounded relieved, “Now hit your target and come home.” The pop up point was approaching, and soon everyone in the control room appeared on edge.

“Thirty seconds to target. Bob, check your laser.”

“Air-to-ground check complete. Laser code verified, one-six-eight-eight. Laser is a go!”

“Watch your heads!” Rooster suddenly calls out, followed by Fanboy exclaiming, “Holy shit! Shit!” It must’ve been whatever it was Mav had warned Phoenix about the minute prior. She made a mental note to ask about it when they retuned—-if they returned.

“Payback, you with me?”

“Right behind you.”

Barbara’s eyes drifted to Mav and Phoenix’s plane, inhaling sharply. They were seconds away from pop up. Glancing at Hondo, he looked just as nervous as her. “Phoenix, stand by for pop-up strike.”

“Dagger Three, in position.”

“Popping in three, two, one.” Grunts could be heard through the comms, from all three of the aviators as they ascended the first part of the mountain. Next they were inverting their dive to descend toward the target before pulling upright. “Get me eyes on that target, Bob.”

“Dagger Three,” Bob stuttered, out of breath from the maneuver. “Stand by, Mav.”

“Come on, Bob, come on.”

“Stand by,” he repeated, making the anxiety rise for Barbara. She brought her hand up to her mouth, gently biting the tip of her finger. “I’ve got it. Captured!”

“Target acquired. Bombs away.” Mav grunted again, as did Phoenix, when they popped up yet again to begin their high-G ascend. The control room was so silent a pin could drop. All eyes on the screen and ears listening for confirmation.

Bob broke the news loudly, “We got impact! Check, direct hit! Direct hit!” The only physical reaction Barbara gave was letting out the breath she had been holding. Beside her, Hondo clenched his fist in silent victory.

“That’s miracle number one,” Warlock spoke for all of them.

“Dagger Two, status.”

“Almost there, Mav. Almost there,” Rooster responded, and the nerves returned all the same. He and Payback were now making the inverted dive. “Fanboy, where’s my laser?”

Panic filled Mickey’s voice, “Rooster, there’s something wrong with this laser!” Barbara’s stomach dropped, willing herself to remain calm. “Shit! Deadeye, deadeye, deadeye!”

“Come on, guys, we’re running out of time. Get it online!”

“I’m trying!”

“Come on, Fanboy!”

“Nearly there! Nearly there!” There was a tremble in Barbara’s legs, the woman glancing to the ground as if by not looking at the screen what’s happening over comms will settle. She was biting her lip so hard she nearly broke skin. They were running out of time.

“Come on, Fanboy. Get it online.”

“There’s no time. I’m dropping blind.”

“Rooster, I got this!

“No time. Pull up.”

“Wait!”

“Bombs away! Bombs away!”

“Oh my God.” The world stops as everyone holds their breath for a second time. Barbara could literally hear her own heart pounding, having to put a hand to her chest as though it would calm it down. A shout of relief escaped as Hondo pulled her into a side hug when the Comms officer shouted, “Bull’s-eye! Bull’s-eye! Bull’s-eye!” Cheers rang all around, some sailors high fiving while others pumped a fist in the air.

“Miracle number two,” Warlock exhaled as the cheers came to an end. Cyclone didn’t even smile, for he knew what came next, “Now they’re in Coffin Corner.”

That seemed to snap Barbara out of her joy. For a moment she forgot that the team was far from safety. Dread filled her at the realization they were about to be fired upon by enemy SAMs.

“We’re not out of this yet,” Mav struggled to say. The second he and Phoenix were out of the mountain climb he saw the first sign of movement. “Here it comes.”

“Radar warning! Smoke in the air. Phoenix, break right.”

“Emergency jettison. Dagger Three defending.”

“Here comes another one!” Bob screams to his pilot. Barbara felt chills along her arms as the dogfight against SAMs began. It was going to be a tough fight and they were limited on their weapons.

“Dagger One defending.” Barbara felt Hondo move closer to her, placing a comforting hand to her shoulder. Together they watched the screen with nervous eyes, seeing the planes of her father and Phoenix do their best to win the dogfight. Payback and Rooster were approaching the end of their climb. “Rooster, status.”

The pilot didn’t answer, but his grunts and heavy breathing could be heard through the comms. Seconds later they hear Rooster go, “Oh my God.”

“C’mon, Rooster,” Barbara muttered, panic filling her at the sound of his tone. “You got this. Come back to me.”

“Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air!”

“Break right, Payback!”

“Breaking right.”

“Oh my God, here they come!”

“SAM on your six, Rooster!”

“Deploying countermeasures.” Slight relief came to Barbara when Rooster responds with, “Negative contact.”

“Dagger One defending.”

“Talk to me, Bob!”

“Break right, Phoenix! Break right! Mav! Nine o’clock! Nine o’clock!”

“Rooster, two more on your six.”

“Dagger Two defending.”

By now Barbara was squeezing her eyes shut with tears threatening to spill. The chaos from the comms was too much. The team was talking over each other, giving statuses and warnings to each other. People in the control room were trying not to react but it was obvious they were experiencing the same level of anxiety as their pilots.

“Payback, SAM on your nose.”

“Dagger Four defending.”

“Rooster, tally, seven o’clock.”

“Talk to me, Bob!”

“On our six!”

“Dagger Two defending.”

“Phoenix, break right!.”

“I see it!” By that point one could hardly make out the individual voices. Mav was talking over Rooster, Bob and Payback were speaking at the same time. Barbara’s head was spinning by the overwhelming emotions she felt. She wasn’t even in the air and it was like she was living it through her teammates.

“Dagger Two defending.” And in the split of the second, Barbara’s world took a turn. “Shit, I’m out of flares!” Rooster’s panicked tone gave her chills, heart rate increasing by the sudden fear. Evading SAMs was difficult in itself, but not having countermeasure

“Rooster, evade, evade!” Maverick ordered.

“I can’t shake ‘em! They’re on me! They’re on me!” The numbness started in her fingertips, before moving to her hands and along her arms. A gasp escaping her as time seemed to slow when the comms went silent. Rooster’s shout followed by Mav’s grunt could only be heard before the world came crashing down on Barbara when her fiancé screamed, “Mav! No!”

“What happened!?” She heard herself shout before anyone else could react. Phoenix was the one to unknowingly answer her, “Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit! Maverick is down!”

“No,” her broken whisper was met with tears as Rooster called out to her father, “Dagger One, status.” When there was no answer—causing Barbara’s hope to decrease, he repeated, “Status.” Meanwhile Barbara was already losing her composure, “N-no.” Hondo moved closer when she staggered, hand on her shoulder as his own expression mirrored hers.

“Anyone see him? Does anyone see him? Dagger One, come in!”

“I didn’t see a parachute.” A pained sound escaped at Payback’s words. All Barbara could do in that moment was pray that Maverick made it in time to eject. There was a chance he could be hurt and lying in the snow, but at least there was a chance he was alive. She refused to believe otherwise.

“We have to circle back.”

“Comanche. Bandits inbound. Single group, hot. Recommend Daggers flow south. One minute to intercept.” Cyclone was conflicted, eyes flicking to Barbara briefly before shaking his head, “Get ‘em back to the carrier now.”

Barbara continued to cry silently while the comms officer ordered the team to fall back, “all Daggers flow to ECP. You have bandits heading for you.”

“What about Maverick?” Rooster objected, voice strained to contain himself. His tone was laced with pain, breaking Barbara’s heart even more.

“Tell him there’s nothing he can do for Maverick, not in a goddamn F-18,” Cyclone’s voice cracked, surprising Barbara. The admiral and her father had been at odds the whole time leading up to the mission that hearing emotion in his tone was not what the aviator expected.

“Dagger Spare request permission to launch and fly air cover,” Jake's sudden offer had Barbara’s eyes widened, looking to Cyclone with hope. Maybe with four jets they could take out the two bandits.

Her shoulders deflated at the sight of the Admiral shaking his head. “Negative, Spare.”

“Launch search and rescue,” Warlock ordered, but was vetoed by Cyclone—another knife to Barbara. “Negative. Not with bandits in the air.”

Anger started to replace the sadness. Hondo’s cut in, “But, sir, Maverick is still out there.”

“We are not losing anyone else today,” Cyclone cut him off sharply before turning to the second comms officer. “Get ‘em home now.”

As the officer gave the order, Barbara’s fury consumed her. It filled her vision as the last hope for rescuing her father was denied. What the hell was he thinking. There was still a chance Mav could be alive. Alarm bells were going off in her head.

“You’re not gonna do anything?” She was pushing past Hondo, but the man’s arms took her by the waist and held her back. The team was speaking through the comms but Barbara didn’t hear them. Her focus was on the Admiral who was leaving her father behind. “You can’t even deploy search and rescue to give him a chance at coming home, Cyclone!?” Cyclone gave her a warning look at her tone which was rising with each word, not flinching under her gaze.

“Lieutenant—.”

“You’re leaving him out in fucking enemy territory!! Are you out of your goddamn mind!?”

“If you cannot calm down I will have you removed from this carrier at once!”

“THAT IS MY FATHER OUT THERE!” Her scream echoed throughout the control room, ending in a choked sob as she struggled against Hondo’s grip. Little did she know it carried through the comms officer microphone, allowing the whole team to hear her cry. Phoenix was holding back tears, as was Bob. Fanboy had squeezed his eyes shut, muttering a silent prayer while Payback’s jaw clenched. Even Jake heard and brought a shaky hand to his jaw.

And Rooster? He no longer heard the comms officer ordering him to acknowledge. Hearing the pain in the love of his life’s voice sealed the deal for what he was about to do. He could only hope she’d forgive him. If it didn’t go as planned, he’d be destroying whatever was left of her heart. ‘I love you, Barbara.’

Hondo eventually pulled Barbara away a few steps as she crumbled into his embrace. There were voices coming through the comms but she could barely hear with the sound of her muffled sobs. Then she was freezing still when the comms officer spoke, “sir, Dagger Two has gone rogue.”

“What?” Cyclone demanded as Warlock glanced at Barbara.

“He’s heading toward Dagger One’s crash site.”

“Goddammit, Bradshaw.” Barbara couldn’t even describe the feelings consuming her. Fear, grief, sadness, anxiety, all combined at the the possibility her father was dead and her lover was heading straight for danger. ‘What the fuck is he thinking?’ Her grip on Hondo’s forearms tightened, eyes flicking to the screens where she spotted his plane long away from Phoenix and Payback.

Then it disappeared.

As did Barbara’s soul.

“Dagger Two is hit,” the second comms officer stated, disbelief in his voice. He had to repeat it just to believe it was really what he was seeing, “Dagger Two is hit.”

“Dagger Two, come in,” ordered the first comms officer, but was met with silence. “Dagger Two, do you copy?” With her knees no longer able to hold her, Barbara collapsed with a wail against Hondo, who’s own tears were spilling on his cheeks.

Warlock brushed a hand across his jaw, wincing at the sound of Barbara’s cries while the comms officer continued trying to reach Rooster. “Dagger Two, come in. Dagger Two, do you copy?” Cyclone’s head dropped. “Dagger Two, come in.”

“N-no—no-no-no!” Barbara sobbed, Hondo holding her tightly as they crouched on the floor. Her head was pounding, face red as the tears continued to pour. There was no stopping them now. She lightly hit Hondo’s chest, but he didn’t mind—letting her release it all. “No! Not him too—not him too!”

Hondo rubbed her back, “I know, honey. I know.” The choked air leaving her had Hondo telling her to breathe. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t calm down, Barbara.” He knew the signs of a panic attack well, and saw the pilot was potentially about to have one. “Breath with me.” Together they took deep breaths before slowly releasing them. All the while Hondo rubbed her back, signaling for someone to grab the nurse on deck in case Barbara were to pass out.

“We were g-gonna get married again,” she sniffed, lip trembling as she spoke and missing the way Hondo’s eyes widened. “I-it can’t—. They h-have to-to be okay, Hondo. T-they have to be.” Although Hondo wanted to believe Maverick and Rooster were alive, the odds were against them. Trapped in enemy territory with bandits patrolling the air and an air base not too far from their location meant they would be found soon if the Navy didn’t act fast. If Barbara was in the right mindset she’d be running to the deck to steal a plane and go after them herself. She’d fight anyone who tried to stop her—not caring if it meant prison time.

Unsure of what to say, Hondo let out a sigh, “Barbara…”

“No!” She cried, slapping his chest again. She refused to let her hopes up. “Nothing can kill Pete Mitchell—not even himself! Nothing, Hondo, nothing!” There was so much time they needed to make up. After so many years of estrangement and fear of the cycle repeating, Barbara and Maverick had finally made progress in their relationship. That was her dad—the man who would walk her down the aisle when she remarried the only person who her heart was reserved for.

It would not be the end of Maverick and Rooster. She would not accept it.

“Nothing.”

Meanwhile, deep in the woods of enemy territory, Maverick and Rooster were scoping out the scene in front of them. Smoke made it hard to see—the airbase having been blasted by a multitude of tomahawks making the enemy unable to deploy their aircraft. Alarms were sounding, filing the pairs' ears along with the shouts of men running across the tarmac.

Rooster was unsure of why they were there, glancing at Mav to see him deep in thought. “You’re not serious.”

Oh but he was. Maverick shot him a look before raising from the snow, Rooster following in suit with the same hesitant expression. God, this was not what he planned for when he decided to save Mav. It was like they were planting themselves for the enemy to see.

They moved closer with Rooster taking the binoculars to scan the hangers. Clicking his tongue, the words left his mouth before he could stop them, “I plan to marry your daughter , sir…..again.”

In his peripheral vision he saw Mav snap his head to him. He quickly put the binoculars up to avoid his eyes, a blush coating his cheeks both from the adrenaline and the fact he had just dropped a bombshell on his ex-and soon to be again-father-in-law.

When Pete didn’t respond he got worried, pulling the binocular back a tad to see his reaction. Mav’s mouth was parted, blue eyes wide as he processed the news. Maybe Bradley should’ve waited till they were back on the carrier. Or let Barbara be the one to deliver it. Maybe Maverick would've taken it better coming from her—cause then again, Rooster’s actions had her divorcing him in the first place. If Maverick knew the details then it was shocking he hadn’t confronted him.

Then to his surprise, Maverick smiles, chuckling as he says, “Can I at least be a part of the wedding this time?”

Rooster blushes, biting back a grin. He should’ve expected that blow. “We wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” Maverick claps on the back in congratulations with a, “Let’s hope she doesn’t kill us when we get back.”

Oh fuck. That’s right.

If there was one thing on the planet that scared Rooster—and maybe even Maverick—it was an angry Barbara Mitchell.

And she was going to kick his ass.

“Looks like I’ll be sleeping on the couch for the next year.” Mav laughs at Rooster’s words, the latter bringing his attention back to the binoculars. When he landed on a familiar sight—one he saw in museums—his stomach dropped, “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Nope, his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. “An F-14?”

“I shot down three MiGs in one of those,” Mav casually says, as if that made Rooster feel better about their chances.

“We don’t even know if that bag of ass can fly.” The older man made a face, slightly offended by the insult—like it was directed at him and not the plan. Raising his brows, Mav jumps up, “Let’s find out.”

“Mav!” Rooster whisper-shouts, but it falls flat. The older man was on the move, trying not to slip down the slight hill as he walked onto the enemy’s tarmac. Gulping, Rooster nods to himself—while praying to God Barbara doesn’t kill him if they make it out alive—before chasing after Maverick.

Together they got to the F-14 without attracting attention to themselves with Pete giving Rooster instructions on how to start it up. They had to act fast and thankfully no one appeared or passed by as they were doing so. Once the engines were a go and all pins were removed, Rooster closed the hatches left open before climbing on top of the wing and into the backseat.

“Canopy?”

“Clear!” Rooster shouted as he buckled himself in. The jet exited the hangar with Mav slowly bringing it onto the taxiway. In the back, Rooster removed a Polaroid picture he had snugged in his front pocket. Running a gloved finger over the image, he felt warmth spread through him as he stared lovingly at it. It was a candid photo of Barbara laughing with the sunset behind her. Her once long hair was pulled up in a messy updo, gold necklaces stacked against her neck and adorning a baby blue sundress with daisies spread across the fabric.

It was one of his favorite photos of her. Taken at a happy point in their marriage shortly before everything went down. Rooster kept it with him all this time, hoping that one day they’d be able to amend things.

Bringing the photo to his lips, he whispered, “I’m coming, baby.” He could not imagine what she must’ve been going through. Thinking both he and her father were MIA or worse, dead. He made a silent promise to make it up to her. Placing a kiss against the image before placing it back in his pocket where it would be safe, Bradley felt the plane come to a stop.

“Both runways are cratered. How are we gonna get this museum piece in the air?” There is no answer from Maverick. Instead his fingers are moving toward the lever on his left. Feeling the vibration, Rooster frowns and turns to his right to see movement outside the canopy. A *thump* from his head hitting the side rings out, “Why are the wings coming out, Mav?”

Again, Maverick doesn't answer—making Rooster nervous at what he was thinking. The engines are soon starting up. “Mav, this is a taxiway, not a runway. This is a very short taxiway, Mav.”

“Just hang on.”

Now Rooster was well aware Maverick lived life on the edge. You can’t have a name like Maverick and not live up to the name. But what Rooster did not think the man would do, was use a cratered taxiway as a runway. However, he was shot backward into his seat when Mav suddenly hit the gas, “Holy shit!”

“Come on, come on, come on,” Mav repeated, watching the needle on the knots get higher and higher. “Needle’s alive. Come on.” Rooster peers from the side of Mav’s seat—eyes widening at the large building-like obstacle at the end of the taxiway. It looked like fuel tanks.

“Mav?”

“That’s it. Come on, come on!” The needle gets higher, knots increasing. “All right.”

“Mav!”

“Here we go,” Mav is pulling the stick back, the front wheel lifting off the ground before the back wheels follow. They were coming up fast with Mav having to draw them up high to avoid collision.

“Holy shit,” Rooster closed his eyes, pictureing Barbara in his mind if it was to be his last thought before death. He wanted to remember her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes light up when talking about the things she loved. He thought of their kiss goodbye on the carrier.

A rattle of the plane’s front wheels hitting the side of the tanks sounded amidst the heaving breathing from Rooster as the Gs he was feeling. Once they were steady and he could think straight he switched on his ESAT.

He had to let her know they were okay.

Back on the carrier, the second comms officer became shocked at the beep on the radar in front of him. The tiny lettering spelling out ‘Rooster’ appeared near the top left corner. “Sir, we’re receiving a signal from Rooster’s ESAT. But there seems to be a malfunction.”

Having been brought to a chair and forced to drink a bottle of water and Tylenol for her headache, Barbara dropped the cool towel the nurse had given her as she shot up. Hondo, who was standing close by, gently brought her back when she moved to the officer, “Wait.”

“Have you lost him?” Warlock asked. Both he and Cyclone had their attention on the officer, as did most in the room.

“No, sir.” The officer turns in his chair. “He’s supersonic.” Barbara’s hand went to Hondo’s, squeezing it at the sudden wave of hope in her veins.

Warlock couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “He’s airborne.”

“In what?” Cyclone spoke incredulous. What the hell could have he been in to be traveling that fast. His F-18 was shot down.

“Sir,” the first comms officer hand went to hold her headpiece, the Admirals turning to face her. “Overwatch reports an F-14 Tomcat is airborne and on course for our position.”

“It can’t be,” Warlock said to himself while Barbara turned to Hondo with her jaw dropped. She felt like she could cry again, but this time out of joy. Her gut was right, voice going low as she whispered, “I knew it.”

“It can’t be!”

Silence. In all his years of Naval service, Cyclone was speechless. Face unreadable, there was no mistaking the awe behind his eyes. Only one person could be responsible for what the comms officer revealed.

“Maverick.”

With the immense relief that Rooster and Maverick were safe and on their way to the carrier, Barbara made her way to the deck—having had it with the control room. Hondo prepared for their landing with the flight crew so the pilot busied herself by searching for her friends who should have already returned. “Natasha!” She shouted, running to the woman when she spotted her on the opposite end of the runway. Hearing Barbara, Nat shot toward her, meeting her halfway with the two embracing. The others lightly jogged behind her.

“I’m so sorry,” Phoenix sniffed when they pulled away. Her eyes were rimmed with redness that matched Barbara’s. The second they landed the pilot allowed her emotions to release, crying for Maverick and Rooster. But mostly Barbara. “C, I’m so—.”

“They’re alive,” Barbara grasped her forearms, watching the surprise overtake Nat’s face. The guys surrounded them with similar expressions, waiting for answers.

“Wha-what are you talking about? They got shot down. Rooster, he—.” Barbara cut her off with a shake of the head.

“His ESAT came up on radar—I was in the control room when it happened. He—I don’t know how but the maniacs stole an F-14. Overwatch caught sight of them. They are on course for us at this very second.” The realization dawned on each of them, Bob running a hand through his hair as he met Fanboy’s eyes.

“Holy shit.”

“An F-14?” Payback questioned with hesitance. “You’re serious?”

“The tomahawks must’ve missed the planes and only struck the runways,” Barbara replied, licking her bottom lip as the alarms went off around them. “The fact it got in the air fucking surprises me.”

“Well yeah. That’s like a dinosaur egg being discovered and it hatching,” Fanboy commented, making Barb roll her eyes at the reference but smile nonetheless.

With a sigh of relief, Phoenix brings her into another hug. “What are you gonna do when they land?”

“Kick their ass—especially Bradley’s for scaring me like that,” When Phoenix’s laugh subsided Barbara leaned in closer so the guys would not hear her next words, “and tell him yes to marrying him again.” The gasp Phoenix let out made Barbara grin, pulling away to wink at the brunette.

“You’re serious?”

The pilot nodded, bringing a finger up to wipe the residue on her face. “Yeah, the man popped the question before taking off. Told him I’d give an answer when he came back. But we both knew it was going to be a yes. I love him so much, Phee.”

Nat squealed, doing a little dance and embracing Barb that the two stumbled a bit. “Oh my God! I’m so happy for you two—congrats!”

“Thank you,” Barb giggled, steadying themselves. The guys all looked at each other confused, “Uh what did we miss?” The women ignored them with Phoenix pulling Barbara back a few steps away from their nosy ears.

“I knew you two would find your way back to one another. I had hoped this detachment would be the reason—even though you two acted like children in the beginning.”

“Hey!” Barb whined with mock offense. “Some of it was reasonable if you could agree.”

“True. But it could have also been fixed earlier with simply talking to each other,” Phoenix gave a warning look, making Barb’s shoulders deflate in defeat.

“Okay, you’re right. I should’ve got the truth of what happened that day before jumping to conclusions.” What she purposefully left out was the argument that followed that night with her and Rooster. Nat didn’t need to know he called her a cunt. Otherwise Rooster may not get the chance to marry her cause he’d be dead the second he landed.

The sound of shouts from around the deck captured their attention along with an engine starting up. Barb’s eyes narrowed in confusion, frowning when she saw Jake’s canopy shut. “What’s happening?” She asked no one in particular.

“Looks like they’re sending Hangman out,” Fanboy squinted against the setting sun.

“But why?” Phoenix stepped to the side to get a better look. The flight crew performed last minute checks and soon Hangman was at the catapult waiting to be released. The group watched him raise his hand in a thumbs up before saluting to the crew, and next thing they knew he was off in the air.

Barbara didn’t like what she was thinking. Something had to have happened—or about to happen—for them to send Hangman to assist in bringing Mav and Rooster back.

“They’ve been spotted.”

What they hoped would be a smooth ride back to the carrier was in fact the fight of their life against two fifth generation fighters. After successfully shooting them down—in a F-14 of all planes—things were looking good when they exited the terrain. The ocean greeted the pair, both sighing with relief that they had made it out.

Fumbling with the breakers, Rooster gave a silent victory when he got the radio to work to which Mav instructed him to get in touch with the boat. But their peaceful moment was ruined at the sound of the beeping indicating they had been locked.

Searching around and behind, the sky was clear with no sign of a plane approaching, but as Mav turned forward he was met with their nose. It was not a good sign. The dogfight getting out of enemy territory left them with no weapons—they were a sitting duck for the lone jet. The best thing they could do was evade, but even that didn’t look promising.

Bullets ricocheted off the plane, the damage slowly increasing that would leave them with catastrophic consequences if they took any more. Mav’s best bet was to get high and eject, screaming at Rooster to prepare himself as he shot them upward. The high climb pushed Gs against them, the two breathing heavily as fear consumed them. When they got high enough Mav shouted, “Eject, eject, eject!” Behind him Rooster was pulling against the ropes, but was met with nothing.

The seat stayed put. He was trapped.

“Rooster, pull the handle!” Mav ordered in a haze. “Eject!

“It’s not working!” His panicked voice screamed back. They continued to climb up, the enemy on their tail though the bullets seized. It wasn’t too hard to put together they were trying to missile lock on them. And with their position, Mav and Rooster would not be able to evade it. “Mav!”

With tears lining his eyes, Mav solemnly thought of the two people he would be letting down. “I’m sorry,” first he saw his best friend. “I’m sorry, Goose.” Then he pictured his daughter. Memories of her as a child played in his mind like a movie. The first time he held her. Her laughter as she jumped in his arms when he surprised her at kindergarten. The moment before he took off and said she loved him. “I’m sorry, Barbara.”

He closed his eyes at the sound of the missile lock. Waiting for the end to come. But, it went away and instead the explosion he expected to swarm him was behind the plane. Gasping, he and Rooster turned around as best as they could in their seats to find a cloud of smoke and debris falling into the ocean.

And a F-18 emerging from the darkness.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your savior speaking,” Hangman’s voice filled their ears, all the stress alleviating from their bones. They couldn’t help but laugh—what were the odds at Jake appearing in the nick of time. “Please fasten your seat belts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions…” He pulled up beside them, ending with, “And prepare for landing.”

Mav hit his fist against the canopy, raising a thumbs up to the blonde pilot in gratitude. “Hey Hangman,” Rooster said, smiling under his mask, “You look good.”

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good,” just like how he was the first night back to Fightertown in the Hard Deck, Hangman had the smug but this time friendly, expression to match his words. Breaking off, he goes, “I’ll see you back on deck. Your lady is waiting for you.”

With a shake of the head, chuckling as he let the calm wash over him, Mav swung the nose around in the direction of the carrier. They caught sight of Jake landing, and it was then the Captain remembered they were missing some pieces to their plane. “Maverick is downwind. No front landing gear. No tailhook. Pull the cable and raise the barricade.”

On the deck, members of the flight crew rushed to gather the ropes while Maverick took it upon himself to do a fly by. He could never pass up the opportunity. It felt like he was back in 1986 with Merlin, but this time it was Rooster. By the time he pulled around the barricade was up and ready.

Slowly they descended, the large crowd of crew members holding up binoculars as they stared in awe of the F-14 tomcat making its final land. Decades after her last ride.

Suddenly a jolt had Mav’s eyes widened, looking at the control panel just as Rooster groaned, “Please don’t tell me we lost an engine.”

“All right, I won’t tell you that.”

“Okay,” Rooster just leans back in his chair, holding onto whatever he can as they near the deck. This was going to be a story to tell one day. It made him smile at the thought it could be him and Barbara’s children that would receive that story.

The end of the carrier came up fast, Mav letting the stick drop forward before they made impact with the barricade. It sent the two forward, clutching onto their seats to steady. Thankfully their belt buckles pulled them back so they didn’t smack against whatever was in front of them. When they came to a stop, they could finally breathe.

Crew members in fire hazard suits raced to extinguish the engine, the smoke and vapor wafting against the canopy. “You good,” Mav asked, unbuckling his restraints.

“Yeah, I’m good.” As the canopy opened, they were met with cheers as members of the crew and team ran to them. They ginned, sweat dripping from their forehead and waving to the crowd.Barbara had yet to be seen, for she had raced to Jake when he landed—the two sharing a hug with Barbara thanking him for saving the two.

Mav threw his helmet down for someone to catch, and the two were helped from the plane where they were embraced as cheers rang out from every corner. Hondo was the first one to greet Mav, the two sharing a mutual look of respect as they smiled while Rooster was surrounded by the whole team. There was one person he was looking for, but he embraced Phoenix and clapped hands with Payback, high fiving Fanboy as they approached him.

As Mav shook hands with members of the crew, his attention snapped to the voice calling out, “DAD! D-dad!” Pivoting his heel, his eyes landed on black hair pushing through the crowd, before Barbara’s tear stained face was revealed to him, “Dad!” His feet did the moving, arms opening in time for her to launch as the crowd parted, a broken sob as she cried, “D-dad!”

His face went to her hair, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Tears lined Maverick’s eyes, a lone cascading down his cheek as the noise around them seemed to muffle. All he cared about was his daughter in his arms.

“I-I knew,” she sniffed, clutching tight against him despite the gear in the way, “I knew you’d come back.”

“I promised I would, didn’t I?”

She nodded against his chest, “You did. Thank you for keeping it.”

“All always keep my promises to you, honey. Till the day I die.”

When they broke apart after another minute, Barbara wiped her face, but it didn’t do much because when she caught sight of the man a few steps behind Mav, the emotion returned. Glancing over his shoulder and finding who it was her gaze was on, Mav smiled at his daughter before placing a kiss to her hairline and stepping aside, “Made sure to bring him back for the wedding.”

Barbara’s jaw slacked, surprise in her eyes at the fact her father knew Rooster proposed. “He told you?”

“Right before I made him help me steal an F-14.”

“I still can’t believe you pulled it off. You should've seen Cyclone’s face, dad, the man was in awe. You left him speechless.” Mav couldn’t help but feel proud of that. Knowing he had the Admiral unable to form words. That sure inflated his ego a bit.

Maverick put his hand on Barbara’s back, gently pushing her toward the man she loved. Before she could step closer, Barbara took his hand and squeezed, “Thank you, dad.” He squeezed it back, nodding with a smile as he let go.

Rooster had been occupied with Hangman, the two shaking hands in mutual respect before the latter embraced Phoenix, leaving Rooster to smile at the sky. Heart pounding, the tears already escaping, Barbara came up behind Bradley and placed her hand on his arm. When he turned, it felt like the world had stopped as they locked eyes.

Like they were the only two left on the planet.

“Roo—,” Barbara was cut off by being lifted in the air, arms flinging around him as she pressed her face into his neck—not caring it was sweaty and he smelled of jet fuel. In fact the smell brought her comfort, knowing he was safe and there with her after thinking she’d lost him.

In that moment everything around them disappeared. Barbara didn’t think about the future and the fact the flight suit she had on may be the last time she ever wore it. Any anger or resentment she once felt prior to coming back to Fightertown was long gone. The future no longer scared. All that mattered was the present.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed against her skin, kissing the area just below her ear, relishing in the warmth it provided. Her body shook with sobs, Rooster rubbing a comforting hand along her back as he shushed her. Everything she was feeling Rooster felt too. The man didn’t want to live another day where he did not have Barbara by his side.

“Y-you scared me to death. I thought I fucking lost you, Bradley. Both of you.”

“I know,” he mentally cursed himself. “I’m so sorry I put you through that.” He didn’t want to picture Barb’s reaction to him getting shot down. The way she screamed for Maverick was so heartbreaking that Rooster knew it had to have destroyed her thinking the same fate happened to him.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he promised, clutching onto the woman as he felt her pull away slightly to look him in the eyes. A hand came up to wipe the tears.

“You’re sleeping on the couch till I say otherwise.” The joke had Rooster throw his head back in laughter, Barbara grinning down at him with the way he was holding her up. He nodded, as though he expected that and agreed. She then brought her hand to caress his cheek, love in her gaze, “I’m so proud of you, Bradley. So fucking proud.”

Rooster’s breath caught in his throat, emotion consuming him as his eyes became red. He didn’t know how to respond to that, but let his actions take over by placing Barbara down gently before getting down to one knee. The crowd around him was still cheering, but many stopped with faces of shock—especially the team minus Phoenix. The brunette had brought her clasped hands in front of her face, beaming at the scene in front of her. Maverick mirrored hers, arm around Hondo as they watched on.

Rooster took Barbara’s left hand in his while her free one came up to her mouth. Though he had already asked that morning, she did say she’d give an answer when he returned. “Barbara Mitchell,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady, “I’ve made mistakes, ones that I promise to spend the rest of my making up to you. You are the most incredible, hard-working, devoted, and beautiful woman I’ve ever met. There’s no one else on this planet who could have my heart because I gave it to you a long time ago. And I don’t ever want it back. Will you allow me the honor of being your husband once again?”

Barabara could barely make him out with the water filling her vision but she manages to weakly nod as the crowd shouts with glee—Payback whistling as she yells over the noise, “Yes!”

Rooster shoots up, spinning her around as he takes her into his arms—her laughter echoing against the cheers. “We’re getting married!” He doesn’t bother adding ‘again’. They already knew that.

When he finally sets Barbara down, he brings her into a long awaited kiss, his hands cradling her face as her own came up to his neck. In that moment they wished they were alone, and as to not get carried away the kiss lasted only a few seconds. Pulling away, Rooster whispered against her lips, “I love you so much, baby.”

She kissed him again, “I love you too. So so much.”

“I can’t wait to call you my wife again.”

“Me too,” she grinned at him, pulling him close to her by the straps of his gear. Her voice takes a different turn which has a hungry look take over Rooster. “You have a lot to make up to me, Bradshaw. Starting tonight.” He turns them away from the crowd, mouth going to her ear where he gently takes her earlobe between his teeth.

“Yes ma’am.”

When Rooster goes up to Maverick, Barbara stayed close behind and said thank you to anyone who offered her congratulations on the engagement. “Guess I should start calling you Mrs. Bradshaw again, huh, C?” Jake grinned, bringing the woman into another hug.

“Damn right,” she laughed, pulling away to look into his eyes. In all her years of knowing the blonde, Barbara never thought she’d have him to thank for saving the people she loved most. Yeah Jake was arrogant and the resident asshole, but he had a heart. Gratitude filled her as she said, “Thank you for bringing them back to me, Jake.” He lightly patted the side of her arm in a friendly gesture.

“The honor is mine. Plus it gave me another kill.”

She rolled her eyes, of course he would say something like that. Smirking at the opportunity that arose, Barbara couldn’t let it disappear. “That’s only one more than me, Seresin.” The shock in his face had her looking smug, patting his arm to let it sink in as she turned away.

“Wait—what? Did my ears deceive me or does Barbara Mitchell now fully live up to her name?”

Glancing over her shoulder to find Hangman looking at her with awe, Barbara sent a wink in his direction. “I always live up to Legacy.”

…………….

Tag list: @multiple-fandoms-girl, @maverick-wingman, @sgt-huntersupremacy, @the-winter-marvel33, @justanothermagicalsara, @calicokel, @lydia-demarek, @alanadetigy, @shrimping-for-all, @chaoticassidy, @nemtodd-barnes1923, @bradleysgirl, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @mak-32, @persephonehemingway

[xalygatorx]

Worthy (2015) | Chapter 1, "Subject Camo"

Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.

Summary: Tony Stark and Clint Barton are called in for a briefing on “Camo” from Agent Coulson and Fury. The target is 25-year-old Cora Dempsey—her codename references her sporadic ability to disappear from sight and, strangely, give off similar readings to the ones they’ve picked up from the BiFrost when she does. Tony expresses opinions.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: None.

Word Count: ~1.5k

"I just wanna know one thing," Tony Stark muttered as he coolly adjusted one of his wristbands and then proceeded to finish off the packet of pomegranate seeds he was working on. "Why I got called out of a meeting, an important meeting, by Agent over here to chase a kid."

"You know, you can call me Phil," Coulson chuckled with a patient smile as he passed the self-righteous billionaire to sit down beside Clint Barton at the conference table. "And I'm pretty sure Pepper would attest to the fact that you were otherwise unpreoccupied."

"That's my girlfriend, you're not allowed to talk to her," Tony noted over the seeds in his mouth with a wag of his finger. He glanced around the room before asking, "So, what, it's just me and Big Bird that got called in?"

"Steve will meet you at your starting point. Didn't need Agent Coulson to be distracted…," Nick Fury said with a pointed glance toward Coulson, who averted his eyes a bit embarrassedly. "We've finally been able to make limited contact with Asgard, with the help of Dr. Selvig, and though the snow-bridge or whatever hasn't been entirely repaired yet…"

"The BiFrost, sir," Coulson supplied.

"…we've been able to enlist Thor as a backup. They've been very forthcoming since New Mexico."

"Why so many recruits for this one test? I could do this solo," Tony declared unabashedly as he dropped the empty silver snack bag onto the table and sat down, the Arc Reactor glowing vividly through the fabric of his shirt. "Actually, I take that back. Seems like you're pretty well-staffed. So I can go home."

"You haven't seen this girl," Clint commented with a knowing look, habitually plucking the string of his bow to check the tension before setting it down and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Hate to admit it, but we're going to need all the help we can get."

"How are you guys having so much trouble finding one chick? Amateurs." Tony shook his head, putting his feet up on the edge of the table.

Fury gave a small, frustrated sigh before giving the file he was holding a toss. It skidded down the glass surface to lose momentum in front of Tony and Clint, who glanced away without interest; he'd already read through the file. Tony, however, picked it up, eyes always alight when there was information or data to be packed into his already jam-packed brain. "Finding her isn't the issue. She was fairly easy to identify and even easier to spot. Agent Coulson?"

Coulson leaned forward and calmly explained, "Cora Dempsey. Twenty-five years old. Hair: Black. Eyes: Blue. Pale, five feet and eight inches tall, one-hundred and twenty pounds."

Tony opened the case file and glanced at the photo inside, giving a soft whistle. "You sure her eyes are blue? They look black."

"They're really dark, apparently. Her driver's license and all her other official documents say blue. None of us have gotten close enough to tell for ourselves."

"Why not? What'd she do?"

"Remember that incident in Central Park two weeks ago?"

"Refresh my memory," Tony requested as he pored over the documents in front of him.

Clint was the one who spoke up first. "Someone wavered out of sight on one of the park benches by the Alice statue in front of about twenty people. Then again in a subway terminal off Broadway."

"And that person was this girl?"

"Yeah. There's no one we can bring in to ask about her either. No family apart from her grandmother, who's homebound in California."

"If she's homebound, there's got to be someone taking care of her," Tony pointed out a bit impatiently.

"Yeah, her uncle, but he's only met the girl once, according to him, and doesn't know a thing about her," Fury stepped in.

"Anyway, so she's pretty simple to spot," Coulson noted. "She's not very well off, financially. Owns like four different shirts as far as we can tell, so there haven't been elaborate disguises to get through. She also has distinctive tattoos on…"

"You know how many shirts she has?" Tony repeated with an arched brow. "You get bored around here or something? Creeps, shame on you."

"As I was saying, tattoos on her back and her right wrist. She also has a stud in her nose."

"If she's so easy to spot, why haven't you caught her yet?" Tony asked, closing up the file. "You. Big Bird. You started to say something about that earlier. What is it about her?"

"Well, we catch up to her fine and then she disappears."

"What, does the wavering thing? I saw some news report on that when the subway stuff happened. It's not like she turned invisible. She just flashed a little."

"She seems to do the 'wavering thing' just enough for us to lose track of her. And it does the same thing to our equipment. The interference is…"

"What?"

"Well, it's similar to what the BiFrost arrivals did before," Coulson admitted, frowning. "It doesn't make sense though."

"This can't be the first time someone's slipped in some radioactive sludge and gotten powers. Stranger things have happened."

"It's definitely not. Most of them grow extra appendages though," he noted seriously. "But she's not radioactive in any sense and not an Asgardian. And the readings are nearly identical."

Tony snorted at the idea that there were actually weird alien-god-men up in space somewhere. "Okay, well, considering there might be these gods out there, maybe it's another kind. Maybe she beamed down from Krypton or Vulcan or something."

"Vulcan's highly unlikely since it got blown up," Clint offered, earning a roll of eyes from Fury and Tony, both.

"My point is, if there's actually one other 'world' out there besides ours," Tony noted, hooking his fingers through the air to punctuate his doubt, "there could be more, right?"

"She's been on Earth her entire life though and so have, er, had her parents. You saw the birth certificate, the diploma, the driver's license, the degree… All of that's there. In fact, her family dates back through the centuries, no problem."

"What happened to her parents?"

"Car crash. She was inside, but came out with just a broken arm."

"Did that have anything to do with her?"

Coulson shook his head. "Just a freak, tragic accident."

Tony nodded, not having to open the file back up to reassure himself there were all those documents inside. He'd seen them and his suggestion had been to exhaust all possibilities. "What's the interest here?"

"Interest. And she's a potential threat, should she opt to use her…talent for bad intent. It'd be ideal for a thief, a spy, really any covert operative position out there. She doesn't seem like a criminal yet, but we'd rather get to her before that happens," Coulson explained.

"Not much of a party. Just picking up a runaway," Tony murmured as Fury retrieved the file.

"You say that now, but I think it might be more of a challenge than you think."

"Tell you what, Stark, I'll give you a five minute head-start when we find her. See if you can catch her on your own," Clint smirked.

"Could with my eyes closed, Barton. In fact, will." Tony got up from the conference table and cracked his fingers. "Heading out, when?"

"Now. There's not much time to waste," Fury noted. "Don't do anything stupid either."

"Aw, Nick, didn't know you worried about me," Tony said with mock affection.

"Not as much worried about you as what your cocky ass gets me into sometimes. Now that you're working as part of the Initiative, you're going to have to act with a little more forethought."

Tony snorted. "Some of my best ideas come from impulse." He gave a flippant salute and then walked out of the conference room, seeming to walk on clouds of his own confidence.

Fury gave an exasperated sigh. "Our definitions of 'best' are very different…" He looked over to Clint as the other man rose up, starting to follow after Tony. "I'm counting on you, Agent Barton."

"Won't disappoint you, sir," Clint said decidedly as he left as well with an inclination of his head.

Coulson looked toward Fury with a raised brow, but a smile still on his face. "You sure you don't want me to accompany them, sir?"

"You've done enough for now, Phil," Fury told him easily. "Let them give it a shot and we'll see where we're at. It couldn't get any worse than it already is."

"Wouldn't say that too loudly, sir," Coulson chuckled. "But, for the record, I wouldn't have been distracted."

"Lying doesn't suit you, Phil."

Next chapter: Chapter 2, "If She Be Worthy"

[terracottaheart26]

Ya Amar

Chapter 3

Pairings : Marc Spector x Female!oc, Steven Grant xFemale!oc, Jake Lockleyx Female!oc

Genre: Fluff (angst and smut later on)

Summary: About 6 years ago, Marc Spector had a small whirlwind romance fling with a young woman after leaving home, though he fears attachment and leaves her behind. When he finally meets her again after 6 years, with a few surprises, could he bear to face her and reveal his truth?

Kid……kids……his kids? Marc couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know how to react. Terra had sat there, a little tense herself, waiting to see what he would do. He breathed a little faster, hands tense on his lap. It looked like he was close to crying, maybe close to screaming. Then just every so softly she placed her hand atop of his.

“Marc, breathe, it’s okay……”

Marc took a breath, the others in the headspace listening in,waiting to see what would happen. So they sat there a bit, her hand closed around his while he relaxed and finally held onto her own hand. Not too strongly but enough that she knew he was going to be okay. It gave her some peace of mind.

“Look…..I’m sorry….I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…..” she starts with a soft sigh. “Well, honestly, I couldn’t even find you after you left, you didn’t give me anything other than your name” Terra gives a lighthearted laugh. Watching her babies play and mold things out of the dirt and sand from the ground. It had been close to six years but she wouldn’t trade all the hardships for the world. Their laughter the one thing that made her day.

Marc staying silent.

“Listen, you don’t have to do anything.”

That shocked him. What did she say? Was she saying he wouldn’t be able to handle this news? Handle their kids? Huh……

“Marc, you have children! They’re adorable! No wonder that boy looked familiar, he reminds me of…..of Randall”

“Marc, I’m not saying you won’t be able to care for them…” Did she read his mind? “Far from it! And you seem like you’d be good with them..” If he could have a chance maybe? “In no way I’d want you to have to be all ‘I need to be a father and do my part’ kind of deal”

Jake was wary of Terra, how she seemed to rush into inviting them over, but seeing how she got every single thought and insecurity right was actually interesting to watch. At least from the reflection anyway. It was amusing to watch Steven hang on her every word. Not like he wasn’t paying attention too. Just making sure for Marc’s sake that she was as she said she was.

“Marc…..I just…..” Terra looks over at the two kids, and deciding to calm the situation. “The girl, her name is Leia and the boy is Luke….I know I know, I’m a Star Wars nerd, sorry” That got a chuckle out of him at the very least. “Leia is so much like you, super passionate, has a lot of energy, she’s the oldest of the two. Luke is the younger one by two minutes, but he’s super aware, likes to build things. Both super adventurous”

Marc sniffles a bit, red round his eyes. Siblings. That sounded so much like his own childhood he’d lost so long ago. He could see the shine in their eyes, so much like Randall. The brother he’d lost so long ago. He’d felt soft hands cradle his face, wanting to fight it, walk away from showing any emotion, but he’d slowly let her turn his head towards her own. Forehead resting against his.

“Marc, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry” she insists, using her thumbs to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen and giving him a soft smile in return. “If anything, if you want, you can be a part of their lives……I just don’t wanna force you to be with me, you probably have a life all your own me I don’t wanna make you drop everything”

“Why are you crying mister?”

Marc sniffles, wiping his tears with his hand and finding the small child, Leia, gazing up at him. No longer in a defensive stance like the other day, but with curiosity and empathy. Her small hand raised up with a small daisy. “Please don’t cry”

“Baby, he’s just feeling some emotions, he’ll be okay.” Terra defends, knowing how empathetic the twins were. And just as she finished, she spotted Luke wiping his hands on his shorts, and grabbing a set of tissues from his pocket. Walking over to hand them over to Marc.

“Here mister, this wipe them away” Luke says quietly with small smile. Opening the packet and raising up on tippy toes to dry the tears that had stained Marc’s cheeks.

Leia ever observant, looked at her mother with concern. “Mommy? Is this a friend of yours?”

What could she say? Yes she knew him, but her children weren’t one to ask questions unless they were really curious about something. At least they could read the room. “Well, this is Marc, he’s a long time friend of mommy’s, we just haven’t seen each other in a while”

Marc was glad that was what she was going with for now. It hurt a bit she didn’t tell them straight out, but hearing Steven’s voice in the headspace. ‘It’d confuse them! Let’s be patient for now mate! That’d be the best option’ ‘I kinda agree amigo, we can wait a bit’

“Hi, I’m Marc, nice to meet you” he hated his croaky voice, he must look awful as he felt the sting in his eyes. But they accepted his hand. Leia giving a huge grin, missing a front tooth. Luke was wary but gives a handshake back with a smile of his own.

**********************************

It was only a few hours after that he left. Seeing their small hands wave goodbye from the front door. Marc let Steven take over for the rest of the way home, exhausted, but a bit happy. Terra even handed them her contact information so he could come visit again. If he wanted to, she still held up that he didn’t have an obligation, but he’d wanted to try. Wanted to try for her, for the twins.

“Mate, those two were so adorable! Luke seemed so smart, Leia has her mothers spirit! Jake agrees, and don’t lie, you seemed to like them too”

Jake didn’t want to admit it but he was amused with how Marc tried handling the kids, though like always he worried for Marc and Stevens safety. Though it seemed sitting there he felt an unknown calmness that hadn’t been there before. The stress and fear having melted away. He’s never seen Marc this awkward yet happy.

“We’ll see them again won’t we? Those little buggers seemed attached to to Marc already, wouldn’t be a bad thing would it?”

“Steven, it could work, but maybe it wouldn’t, those kids are cute but……”

“Terra, she didn’t reject me, she should have been upset that I left, that I left her all alone. What kind of woman doesn’t get angry like that? I’d be mad at myself” Marc sighs, raking his hands through his hair and pacing in the headspace. He had fun with the kids, hearing their made up stories and playing their games, but would it be too much too soon to be involved in their lives?

“Uh…..chaps…..I just remembered, did she say she was only here for two months?”

That’s what made him stop in his tracks, looking at the piece of paper in Steven's hands from the giant fish tank. This might be a long shot but he wasn’t going to walk out of her life again. Didn’t want to lose contact with the twins. He wasn’t going to lose her again.

Not this time.

[luminousnotmatter]

Best Laid Plans

a heart day j. h. s. & birdy something

like real people do ‘verse

pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female OC, her nickname is Birdy. ☺️ She’s the same Birdy from this little thing I wrote back in the fall.

warnings: PG-13 swearings. It’s not hurt/comfort in the physical injury sense, but rather in the mental-emotional sense, and even that is just sorta kinda. Other than that….It’s stupidly soft and sweet?? I think that about covers it???

word count: 1,400ish or thereabouts.

summary: Jake has a sweet and adorable Valentine’s Day date night in mind for he and Birdy. But you know what they say about the best laid plans…

author’s note: I actually wrote this last night, originally for the eyes of a precious friend only….but then it sat lurking in my brain all day today, and I’m most pleased with and proud of it and maybe it’ll bring somebody else a little joy too so….here it is. 🥹🫣💞 It takes place in the same ‘universe’ (which I have dubbed Like Real People Do because it’s my favorite Hozier song and also it because said song feels so perfectly right for them.🥹🥰) as the above-mentioned thing I wrote this past fall, only it’s later on down the line for Jake and Birdy. They’ve done the Best Friends To Lovers Upgrade™️ by now. 😉🤭♥️ It is absolutely my intention to write out their story from the beginning, and I have so much of that story already simmering on the stovetop of my brain it’s silly no seriously please somebody anybody can you come and ask me about it sometime and it would make my whole life to yell happily about it with you but until such time as I have more details plotted out and am actually inspired to actually write it from the beginning: I’m gonna just take what inspiration I get and write these two adorables from wherever on their timeline I feel I wanna in the moment.

bonus material: This song is where the lyrics quoted in the mood board come from, and it’s one I’ve loved for a long time. 💞 It’s also on my in-progress playlist for Jay and Birdy. 🥰

tagging: My Katherine @whisperofsong (it’s her with whom initially shared this last night ☺️) and My Bee @bradshawsbaby and My Sunshine @hangmanbrainrot because….because! 😍🥰♥️♥️‼️ Because I wanna!!! And also because they are unspeakably dear friends to me, who always, always, a l w a y s have the most kind and encouraging words and love and support for my silly wordsmithery. 🥹😘♥️♥️♥️

…………………………………………

Birdy isn’t somebody who needs or desires big, over-extravagant romantic gestures. She’s a gentle, easygoing, sweet, and introverted soul. Her favorite place to be is with Jake, she loves him and time spent in his company is the most she asks, on Valentine’s Day or any day.

Jake understands that. Once upon a time, his ego may have told him it was necessary to do it up big for the woman (if any) he was with on Heart Day, to show up and show off and pull out as many stops as possible because how else was that woman going to know what he’s capable of if he wasn’t advertising the biggest and best possible version of himself at all times. And once upon a time, at that phase in his life, he would’ve believed his ego. But now, he knows better. He’s matured and he’s grown and he’s learned, and Birdy, their friendship and their love has been much of the impetus behind this learning and growth and maturation.

So, come their first Valentine’s Day together, he’s got his sweet little plans and not to shine his own shoes, but he’s pretty damn confident that they’re going to be just what’ll make her happiest. Her favorite tiny, old, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant miraculously does UberEats, so that’ll be dinner taken care of. He’s going to stop by a florist on his way to her house and pick up a bouquet of white and yellow daisies because he knows there’s no flower she loves more. They’ll eat together and talk, he’ll hold her close and his fingers entwined with hers and kiss her sweet mouth and get to hear her laugh (which is up there near the top on the list of Jake Seresin’s Favorite Sounds, among other notables such as the roar of F/A-18 engines and kickoff at a UT Austin football game) and it’ll be a good night. She’ll be happy and he’ll be happy.

But the US Navy? The US Navy has different plans entirely. Unexpected, surprise plans that brutally and efficiently, through one thing happening, then another, and another, and you guessed it: still more things happening, ruin Jake’s plans for his Valentine’s night with Birdy. Leaves him trudging through her front door abysmally late in the evening, pissed off, exhausted, still clad in his flight suit, and smelling of jet fuel, sweat, and hot, dirty tarmac.

He’s not happy. Today was NOT meant to go this way.

Nonetheless, there’s his lady to greet him; rising to stand from her beloved oversized leather armchair in the living room while he bends to untie and toe off his boots by the welcome mat. Baloo is curled up on his bed next to her chair but he lifts his dark head and thumps his tail a few times, excited and pleased to see Jake.

“Stay, Loo.” Birdy murmurs to the dog and he obeys. Albeit with a soft whine of protest. “I know you wanna, but you can say hi in a second. I get to first.” Jake grins the tiniest grin to himself.

The Navyman straightens fully and the anxious and angry tightness in his chest eases a bit because his best friend in the world is looking at him, seeing him, and her eyes are soft and sparkling and safe and *home*.

“Hey, Flyboy.” her voice is a warm hum.

Jake reaches out for her and she doesn’t resist the way he hauls them together so their chests touch and his arms cage her in. He sighs deeply, in and out. “Hi, Little Bird.”

“How was your day?”

“Kinda shit.”

Birdy reaches up to take Jake’s cheeks in her hands, thumbs sweeping his cheek bones. Her brow is scrunched up, a sympathetic frown playing with her lips. “Yeah?”

He sighs again. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. Welcome home. I love you.”

Each of the woman’s statements are punctuated, emphasized, by a gentle kiss pressed to a different part of his face; right cheek, left cheek, then finally his mouth.

In tasting her lips, honeyed and soft, the pilot lets his shoulders start to release some of their tension. Neither of them hurry the moment, neither of them want to.

When he must break away for air, Jake rests his forehead to Birdy’s at first. “I love you.”

Those three words feel so right to say to her. They always have, even when it scared the hell out of him to say them. It doesn’t now though.

“Okay, Loo Buddy, you can come and say hi now.” Birdy’s twisting in his arms slightly to call the big black lab over to where they stand. Baloo needs no second invitation. He rises immediately and is by their side in seconds, whole body wriggling with happiness. Jake bends to give him plenty of pets and murmured verbal affection, while keeping one hand gripping Birdy’s hip loosely.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” she tells him, leaning close and kissing the only part of him her mouth can reasonably reach, his shoulder.

When he straightens once more, Jake’s gaze catches on two things on the kitchen table, over the woman in front of him. A paper bag with the UberEats logo on the front, and a bouquet of white and yellow daisies.

His heart sinks.

His face must fall too because Birdy’s sweet smile falters. “What?”

Jake jerks his chin in the direction of the table.

“That’s dinner. From Morelli’s.” she explains.

Of course she ordered that. He’d smirk in satisfaction at how well he knows her but the bitterness of disappointment in himself tastes too strong on his tongue.

“The flowers?”

Birdy grins. “My Daddy sent ‘em.”

She thinks her father’s gesture is cute and funny and sweet but Jake just nods. His green eyes drop from hers. She misses them instantly.

“Hey…Jay…” she squeezes his arms and ducks her head to try and meet his eyeline as it wanders. “What’s up?”

Jake closes his eyes. It’s not like he’s going to cry, hell no, but they still burn a little. He’s just wore out and pissed at his day and he hates that he couldn’t be the one to show Birdy he loves her with dinner and flowers.

“I…” he swallows and makes himself look in her eyes, grasping for that peaceful home feeling of them again. “I was gonna get’ya dinner. And flowers. That’s…that’s *my* job.”

“Your job?” she blinks at him.

He nods in affirmation. “It’s Valentine’s Day, y’know?” He shrugs.

Birdy’s expression melts into one of impossible tenderness, but there’s a steely seriousness lurking underneath. “Jake,” she breathes out. “Look at me, please?” He’d been studying some loose threads in the collar of her shirt, now he obeys her request. “You did your job already. You worked, hard, all day. You flew planes and kicked ass, damn, I mean, you had shit thrown at you that I can’t possibly imagine being able to handle, let alone, y’know, actually handling it. And now,” she cups his cheeks in her hands once again, “here you are, with me. How can I ask for more? Today or any day?” She drops her hands to his shoulders, squeezing them lightly. “You’re enough.” She’s smiling, her beautiful eyes bright and gaze unwavering, but the wrinkle between her brows betrays the depth of the feeling behind her words.

That tightness in his chest Jake had registered earlier, it’s no longer that of frustration or nerves fried to their last ending. Now that taut ache is one of overwhelming fondness, love and gratitude felt for the woman in his arms, on a level unmatched before he met and fell for her.

His wide, warm palms now lift to cradle her face and he moves in to capture her mouth with his own. The kiss is slow, gentle. Words, emotions from the depths of Jake’s heart are poured into it, unspoken, and he relishes being able to trust that she’s hearing them, understanding them.

Even so, Birdy deserves thing spoken out too. “Thank you, Darlin’.” His warm breath sweeps across the skin of her forehead, once they’ve broken apart, as the words leave his throat. Quiet, low, and ever-so-slightly husky.

She leaves one open-mouth kiss on his jaw, gooseflesh rolling over him in its wake. “Always, Seresin. Always.”

…………………………………………….

Jake Seresin knows that saying about the best laid plans of mice and men, and he’s not about to deny that his day today was a prime example of the truth of that saying….but 12 minutes later, when he and Birdy are seated at the table, eating and talking, and some stupid silly thing he says makes her laugh; eyes squeezing shut and her head thrown back…when that glorious, one-of-his-most-favorite-of-all-sounds rings out…….his plans never mattered much anyway. This does though. She does. With her: Happy Valentine’s Day is damn straight

[roleplayfinders]

Sue Me

I’m 22 so only 21+ please

Sue me but I LOVE cliches, and lately I’ve been craving - alt bad boy falls obsessively for “cold hearted” good girl. I need a golden retriever x black cat pairing, where the guy looks like trouble but is actually a giant sweetheart who’s head over heels for the good girl who’s a cold hearted independent girl, who claims she doesn’t have time for boys.

I would be writing the male and you would be writing the female. It would also be oc x oc.

Give me tension, fluff, enemies to lovers, all the good stuff. I’m thinking it would be a college au where the two are forced to spent time together perhaps through an assignment where two different majors are collaborating on a project. He doesn’t care about the project, he just wants her, she cares a lot about the project and is frustrated by his lack of “discipline.” However, little by little she starts warming up to him as he keeps on fighting for her.

I just want a cute, at times angsty and dramatic opposites attract rp where we can send each other memes and gush about our characters!! I wanna make moodboards and playlists and get to know who I’m writing with.

If you’re interested then please hmu on discord at: haydenxcx.

-

[cicimunson]

Sweet Child of Mine Part 5

Series Summary: You’re Eddie’s former best best friend. The two of you drifted apart freshman year of high school and now you’re more enemies than anything else. Despite the hostility between the two of you, you still come around to help out with his eleven-month-old sister, Emma, who he and Wayne keep most of the time due to his father being in jail and his mother being an addict.

Also, I know Sweet Child O’ Mine didn’t come out until 1988, but the song is just so perfect for the story.

Pairings/Characters: Eddie Munson x Female Reader, Wayne Munson, OC characters Emma Munson, Wendy Munson and Greg Thompson, cheerleaders Amy and Lucy

Chapter Summary: Eddie comes to visit while you're sick and you two get nostalgic remembering old times.. There's a bit of an altercation at school and Eddie is stunned when you take his side. Emma hits a milestone and the three of you go out to celebrate. Eddie is starting to feel something for you, but he can't quite figure out what it is.

Warnings: Reader is sick, mentions of Eddie's mom being an addict, I think that's it? Let me know if I missed something.

Word Count: 3k

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 6

Whatever Eddie was sick with doubles down on you, forty-eight hours in and you're sprawled on your couch, unable to combat the cough or fever.

You wish your parents were in town, but unfortunately they were both gone for work. Not that they'd be much comfort, but it would be nice to have someone's presence in the house.

There's a knock on the door and you drag yourself up, groaning.

Eddie is standing on your doorstep, smirking when he sees you. "Hi. You look like hell."

 You groan. "Come to relish in my pain, Munson? Low, even for you."

"Actually, I brought your homework. And Wayne insisted I bring you some of his homemade chili, said it’ll cure anything you have.” He thrusts the bag under your nose and the strong smell of spices makes you gag.

“Shit, you really are sick, huh?” He observes. “I didn’t get any stomach trouble with mine.”

“Must be my luck.” You mumble, heading back to the couch. "You can go, I’d like to be miserable in peace.”

"Oh, come on, ducky, don't be like that."

You whirl around, reaching out to grab the back of the sofa when the movement makes you light-headed.

Eddie is overwhelmed by the urge to reach out and steady you. It surprises him.

Instead he steps closer and asks: "You okay? Maybe you should sit down."

You nod and resume your spot on the couch, tucking your legs under you.

"You haven't called me ducky since we were kids."

He sits in the recliner across from you and cocks his head to the side, looking confused. "I haven't?"

"Nope."

"Oh, well, do you still want to be a duck?" He jokes.

You giggle. When the two of you were small,  your elementary school had taken a field trip to a farm and you had been fascinated by the baby ducks swimming around the pond behind the barn. You had told everyone that you were going to be a duck too, crying when your teacher had told you it was impossible, then sobbing harder when she scolded you for crying. Eddie had kicked her in the shin and hugged you.

If you wanna be a duck, you can be a duck.

And you'll still be my best friend?

Of course. You'll be my little ducky.

And the nickname had stuck. At least until freshman year.

Eddie studies your face. "What are you thinking about?"

You sigh softly and shake your head. "Nothing. And yes, sometimes I still wish I were a duck."

He grins. "I knew it."

For a moment, all feels right between you two again.

"Um, thanks for my schoolwork. And thank Wayne for the food."

He shifts his weight back and forth in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, I owe you a thank you, too."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He looks down at his feet. "The other night, when I was sick. You didn't have to take care of me. You could have left, or even camped out in the bedroom with Emma. But you stayed with me."

Your heart beats a little faster.

"So, I just wanted to say thanks." He finishes, still not looking from the floor.

"You're welcome, Eds. I'm glad you're feeling better."

He smiles softly when you use his nickname.

"So do I need to force-feed you Tylenol? Make you soup?"

"I'm fine, thanks. I'd hate for you to catch this again."

"Yeah, me too." He stands up, wiping his palms on his jeans. "But if you need anything-"

"I'll call. Thanks again."

He nods. "See ya, ducky."

Your heart does another little flip-flop as he leaves.

Don't. Don't start thinking the two of you can be friends again. Every time you get your hopes up, he crushes them.

But you can't help but hope just a little.

__________

You're back in school two days later, stretching with the rest of the cheer squad before the pep rally. You see Eddie walk into the gym and you give him a small wave.

He flips you off, but with a warm smile on his face.

You pretend to be offended, then act like you're reaching in your pocket to look for something. He watches as you pull out your clenched hand, then open it to flip him off in response.

His smile turns into a grin.

Amy nudges you. "Maybe don't flirt with the freak in front of the entire school, huh?"

You give her a frosty glare.

After the pep rally Eddie approaches you. You're taken aback at first, normally he doesn't even show up to these things, ditching to hide out in the woods behind school.

"You got a minute?" He asks, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Amy sticks her pom-pom out in front of you as you take a step forward. "Actually, we're busy. You can stalk Y/N some other time."

Eddie smirks at her. "Seems you're the one a bit obsessed, seeing as how you're trying to control who she talks to."

"Amy, it's fine. Eddie and I are fri-" You trail off, not because you're embarrassed, but because you don't know what your actual label is. "We're cool." You finally say.

She leans in close and whispers loudly. "Oh my God, Y/N, are you doing drugs?"

"What? No! Jesus, Amy, why would you ask me that?"

"Well that's the only explanation I could come up with." She replies snidely."Unless what Greg says is true, and you're really friends with the freak."

"You aren't, are you?" Lucy asks. "I heard he's into…" She looks at him and then whispers to the other girls. "Devil worship."

They all gasp dramatically while you fight the urge to giggle.

Eddie hisses and the girls shriek.

"Devil worship, indeed!" His voice booms, intimidating and loud. "I was looking for a virgin to sacrifice, do I have any volunteers?"

"Hey, is he bothering you, ladies?"

Fantastic, just what this conversation needed.

Greg comes to stand at your side, clenching his fists as he glares at Eddie.

Amy wraps a hand around Greg's bicep, batting her eyes dramatically. "He said he was going to sacrifice us to the devil!"

Oh please.

"He said virgin sacrifice, Amy. You're safe. Hell, thanks to you, half of the football team is safe." You retort.

Her mouth drops open. "How dare you!”

Greg scowls. “You aren't honestly defending that freak, are you?"

You shrug your shoulders. "Maybe I am."

Eddie's eyes widen. He'd have never expected in a million years for you to be sticking up for him.

Greg scowls. "I told you Y/N, you hang out with the freak long enough, he'd rub off on you."

"Then I guess I should go. Wouldn't want it to rub off on any of you." You roll your eyes and walk away, Eddie on your heels.

You stomp out into the parking lot. Eddie follows behind, pulling his keys from his pocket. "Need a ride?"

"Take me to see Emma, please. She always calms me down."

He nods understandingly. "Yeah, me too."

He opens the passenger door of his van and you get in, wrinkling your nose as the smell of cigarettes and weed hits your nostrils.

Eddie chuckles when he sees your face. "Just crack the window. Wouldn't want you to get a contact high." He teases. "Although you might be more fun with a little buzz."

"Haha." You roll the window down a bit. "So, did you need something?"

He's drumming on the steering wheel, looking lost in thought. "Hmm?"

"You walked up to me. Back at school?"

"Oh, yeah. Emma's appointment with the specialist is Monday. I was kinda hoping- I mean, if you wanna come, you know, you can.”

He wants me there?

Eddie looks embarrassed to have even asked you. He'd never admit the truth, but he needs you there. The thought of going without you terrifies him.

You nod, relieving him of his misery. He breathes a sigh of relief, masking it as a cough so you won't notice.

"Um, it's in the morning, 9 am, so we'd have to skip first period, possibly second."

"It's Emma. I'd skip a whole week if she needed me."

Eddie nods. "Yeah, me too."

He pulls into the driveway and you hurry into the trailer, eager to see her. Emma squeals when you walk in, holding her plump little arms up to you.

Wayne smiles. "She's missed you."

You scoop her up and hug her tightly. She grumbles slightly and pushes at your chest. You loosen your grip and plant kisses on her cheeks and forehead.

"I missed you so much while I was sick, Emmy, did you miss me?"

She pats your cheek affectionately.

"That's my sweet Emmy." You coo.

"Em-me."

Eddie gasps from behind you. Wayne comes up off the couch, looking shocked.

You turn to Eddie, your mouth falling open.

"Holy shit, did she just say her name?"

You jostle her slightly to reclaim her attention.

"Say Emmy, baby girl, say Emmy one more time!"

She blows raspberries and squeals.

"Come on baby, one more time for your brother and uncle, say Emmy!" You prompt. "You can do it. Emmy!"

She looks up at you. "Em-me."

You shriek happily and Eddie does a little jump of excitement. 

Wayne claps his hands, letting out a cheer.

"Oh my God, she said it! She said her name!" He exclaims.

"Emmy!" She repeats, realizing it gets a big reaction.

"That's right sissy, you're our Emmy!" Eddie praises. "Our smart little Emmy."

Eddie is ecstatic. He can't remember the last time he felt this happy. He kisses Emma's cheek and then turns and kisses yours also before he even realizes he's done it.

Your mouth drops open. You realize Eddie is staring at you in shock, so you shut it quickly, busying yourself with smoothing Emma's curls and straightening her overalls.

Eddie turns away from you, touching his fingers to his lips. Other than Emma, he'd never kissed anyone. Girls had tried when he was younger, of course, and every now and then a drunk girl would throw herself at him at the Hideaway, but Eddie always shot them down. He didn't like anyone's hands on him, and certainly not their mouths.

Your cheek had been soft and warm. Another couple inches to the right and he'd have kissed your lips, he realizes. Would you have let him? Would you have kissed him back?

"Eddie?" Your voice jolts him out of his thoughts. He turns back to you and Emma, forcing a smile on his face.

"I asked if you had any ice cream? I think Emma deserves a treat for being such a smart girl." You tickle her, inciting squeals and giggles.

"I don't think so, but we could always go out." He offers.

"Sounds great. I'll go change Emma's diaper." You head to the bedroom with her.

Eddie can't help but touch his lips again. It was just a peck, it didn't last more than a second, but he felt…something.

He notices Wayne grinning at him and snatches his hand from his mouth.

"Don't say a word." He warns and Wayne chuckles.

"Hey, I'm over the moon right now. Emma talking, you smooching Y/N-"

"I did not smooch her."

"You two are making leaps and bounds today. Next thing you know Emma will be speaking French and you and Y/N will be getting married." He teases.

"That'll never happen. She'd never want someone like me. She's into jocks and popular guys."

Wayne cocks an eyebrow. He can't help but notice Eddie didn't say anything about not liking you.

"You're right." Wayne agrees. "Besides, Emma would prefer Spanish to French."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Don't be cute, uncle."

Wayne holds up his hands defensively. "Me? Never."

You come back into the living room, carrying a freshly-changed Emma. You'd wiped her face clean, Eddie observes, and stuck a little pink bow in her hair.

"We ready to go?"

"You kids have fun."

You turn to Wayne. "You aren't coming?"

"No, I think I'm gonna take a nice long nap while the trailer is empty." He winks at Eddie over your head.

"Well, enjoy your nap. We'll try to be quiet when we come back."

You head outside and help Eddie fasten Emma in. She protests being sat down but when Eddie starts the radio she instantly perks up, clapping her hands as Eddie sings along.

Your mind drifts back Eddie's impromptu kiss. You reach up and touch your cheek, still feeling his lips on your skin.

Eddie glances over at you, smiling to himself when he sees your hand on your face.

Maybe she liked it. Maybe she would let me do it again. Do I want to do it again?

You realize Eddie is staring and move your hand from your cheek, feeling a blush creeping up your neck.

"Stop staring, weirdo. Watch the road."

"Pft. You wish I would stare at you."

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile.

Eddie parks the van in front of the ice cream parlor. He scoops Emma out of seat and the three of you go inside. You wave to your mom's friend who runs the place, then slide into a booth.

The waitress comes hurrying over, instantly cooing over Emma.

I don't recognize her. Must be new.

"Oh what a cute baby, how old is she?"

"She'll be a year old in two weeks." Eddie replies.

"She's so precious. Does she want some ice cream?"

"She'll have a scoop of chocolate and vanilla, I'll take a chocolate shake."

She turns to you.

"And for you, mama?"

You blink up at her. Huh? 

It dawns on you. She thinks Emma is yours. And most likely that Eddie is her daddy. 

Eddie grins mischievously at you. "Yeah, mama, do you know what you want?"

"Um, just a vanilla shake is fine."

When she's out of earshot Eddie doubles over, laughing hysterically.

"I'm gonna kill you, Munson."

"Oh come on, that was hilarious…mama."

"You're so gross." You roll your eyes, but Eddie can see the amusement on your face.

The waitress comes back with your order a few minutes later. Eddie helps her unload her tray, pushing your milkshake towards you.

"Here you go, mama."

You glare at him. "Gee, thanks, daddy."

Eddie's breath hitches. You don't notice, thank God, as you're trying to keep Emma from putting her hands in her ice cream.

He can't deny it. He felt something when you called him daddy. A twinge, a twitch. Call it what you want, but it excited him.

"Eddie, your shake is gonna melt."

"Maybe I like it melted."

"Okay then, weirdo, let it melt."

Emma succeeds in getting a hand in her ice cream. She squeals when she realizes it's cold and smears it down the front of your shirt.

"Oh, Emmy, careful!" You grab a napkin and wipe her hand, pushing her ice cream out of her reach. She shrieks indignantly.

You dab at the ice cream on your chest.

"Edward, a little help?" You snap.

He grabs a napkin too, blotting a stain on your left breast. You blush and stiffen.

"I meant with Emma." You say quietly.

Eddie could kick himself. Of course you meant with Emma.

You continue dabbing at the stain while Eddie feeds her. How have we gone from "don't fucking touch me" to him practically groping me in less than week?

Eddie can't even look at you. He has no idea what's come over him. For some reason he wants to touch you. He likes feeling how warm and soft you are. He's just so confused as to why.

You all finish eating and Eddie pays. You insist on leaving the tip since he covered the tab. The waitress waves goodbye, remarking to a customer what an adorable family you three are as you leave.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I need to do some studying before the game." You look up at him. "You should come tonight. Bring Emma."

"I've got Hellfire."

"Oh, I see. Do you wanna meet up after, get some dinner?"

"Won't you be going to your boyfriend's big party?"

"How did you know about that?"

"His friends have been buying off me all week. Can't keep their traps shut about it."

"I didn't plan on going, honestly. And for the millionth time, he's not my boyfriend."

"Does he know that? He jumped to your rescue pretty quickly today. And I saw the way you stared daggers at Amy when she grabbed his arm."

"I was staring daggers because they were being rude to you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is."

Eddie starts the van. "They're assholes, Y/N. I don't understand why you associate with them."

"I have to, for cheer."

"I don't understand that, either."

"My mom was a cheerleader, Eddie."

"So?"

So I was hoping it could be something she and I bonded over. I was hoping she'd want to come to games and stuff to see me cheer.

"Just forget it. Of course you don't understand."

Eddie falls silent. You're right, he doesn't understand. Your mom was hardly ever around, same as his. Sure she wasn't an addict like Wendy, but she was neglectful like her.

Eddie pulls into your drive. You say goodbye to Emma and get out, muttering a goodbye to him as you shut the door.

Eddie watches as you sprint up the walk and into your house.

"Well, Emma, I think I made her mad again. I just can't win with that girl."

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