#I feel bad for delaying certain asks because I have to use my brain in them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artificialqueens · 3 years ago

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Had to Give In (Couldn't Give Up) (Gottrosenali) - Writworm42, Fromthenorthernskies

A/N: Here it is, folks. Perhaps THE most iconic Franco-Anglo collab since the hit 2007 movie-I-haven't-seen Bon Cop/Bad Cop. This was incredibly fun to write, and Emerald and I had a blast bringing this fic together. We really hope you guys like it!!

Of course, it wouldn't be what it is at all without our lovely beta Holtzmanns, who single-handedly removed 43728497 commas for us. Your patience is legendary and appreciated, friend <3 <3 <3

Title from I Don't Do Drugs by Doja Cat ft Ariana Grande.

SYNOPSIS: A bad flight and surprise plans convince Denali that his birthday probably isn't going to be very happy; that is, until Mik and Rosé step in to give him the best present he could ask for.

Saying that the plane ride from Chicago to New York had been rough was, in Denali’s opinion, probably one of the biggest understatements someone could make. What was supposed to have been an hour and a half gravol-induced nap had turned into a six-hour nightmare, all thanks to an unexpected rainstorm that had turned up out of nowhere, delayed their flight, cancelled it, delayed the new one, then kept them grounded in the plane itself for an extra hour. Add a thousand gate changes, and by the time the crew had actually let them off at Kennedy, Denali had been regretting not going ham at the duty-free liquor counter back at O’Hare.

But it was all worth it when he walked into the passenger pickup area and saw Mik and Rosé waiting for him with wide smiles, birthday balloons, and lavishly-decorated WELCOME HOME signs.

He broke into the biggest grin of them all, outshining even the ones of his boyfriends, finally free after all the hurdles of the day. His pace picked up, but Denali didn’t even have time to fall into a comfortable fast walk before Mik jumped right into his arms, giggling. Denali wobbled on his feet for a moment, even though he had expected Mik to do exactly that, but he wouldn’t have changed it for anything. He was back with them, after such a long time, and for his birthday, too — nothing could top that, he was certain of it.

“Come on, let him go, he must be tired after all that happened today,” admonished Rosé, and Denali saw Mik pout but finally slide off, still refusing to let go of his hand. He didn’t mind at all, especially when Rosé gathered his long-lost forgotten luggage on one hand, and started to pick up all the things they had brought to welcome him.

He still found himself dragging down Rosé a bit, getting a soft kiss at last after his stupid stressful day. Denali also let a whiny Mik claim one as well, trying his best to keep it pretty tame since they were still in the middle of a big airport with lots of people moving past them. “I hope you two haven’t planned the biggest party of the year for tonight, because I’m exhausted,” started Denali with a chuckle, which quickly died down when he saw the sheepish looks his boyfriends shared. “Okay, what can I expect?”

“Let’s just say we might have gone a bit overboard with inviting people,” admitted Mik, rubbing the base of his neck with his free hand.

“In our defense, we didn’t know you were going to be stuck on a plane for six-ish hours.”

He barely kept in a sigh, even though Rosé was right. As they fell into their Uber, Denali was still stuck in his mind. He had wanted nothing more than to have his boyfriends for himself all evening and night; they could go celebrate his birthday with their friends in the next few days. After all, he was supposed to stay for almost a week, so what was the hurry?

That, and Denali had clearly underestimated how horny he was for them, now that he was stuck in the middle, pressed against them firmly. He knew they didn’t have too long to stay in the car, more or less thirty minutes, but it was plenty enough for him to feel the heat of them nearby — it was plenty enough time for him to go crazy with how Rosé’s hand was lingering on his thigh, and how Mik was all cuddled to him on the side, his warm breath hitting his neck.

It was a fact that didn’t slip past Mik, ever-observant as long as sex was potentially involved.

“Don’t worry, gorge,” the youngest’s whisper was low and teasing in Denali’s ear as he drawled, “Just a few hours, and then we’ll be back home to give you your real present.”

It was less reassuring than Denali was sure Mik meant to be, but at least Rosé hadn’t seemed to have heard them - if he had, Denali knew for a fact that he would have amped up his teasing by now, and Denali wasn’t sure he could survive that without damaging his Uber rating.

Luckily, they stopped briefly at Rosé’s apartment to put away Denali’s suitcase, and Denali couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when he kicked his shoes off, the ache in his feet soothed by the familiar feeling of Rosé’s hardwood floors under them as he headed for the bedroom. Rosé and Mik both followed, and for a moment, Denali almost thought that he’d get a little relief — a cuddle maybe, a quick handjob if he was lucky. After all, they still had about half an hour before they’d have to head out for dinner. And things actually did look like they were coming up for Denali when Rosé told him to lie down with a quick kiss on the lips, both his boyfriends allowing him to rest as they put his clothes away for him.

Unfortunately, that was as far as it went; the minute his body melted into the mattress, Denali’s eyes couldn’t help but fall closed, and he was out like a light.

When he woke up again, Rosé and Mik were laid on either side of him, the former tracing lazy patterns on his arm as the latter spooned him from behind, holding him snugly as he nuzzled into Denali’s neck.

“Did you have a good nap, baby?” Rosé’s voice was soft, his smile gentle, and despite the way Denali was kicking himself for the missed opportunity, he couldn't help but nod as he let out a yawn.

“Do we have any time left before dinner?” The thought came to him as the sleep left his brain, unfogging his mind and making him painfully aware of where he was, what his boyfriends were doing. What else they might be able to do to him, if they had any time left.

But Rosé shook his head sadly, sitting up and gesturing for Mik and Denali to do the same. “We’re already late,” he sighed. “Sorry, baby, but we have to go, the others have been waiting for a while.”

Sure enough, when Denali checked his phone, their group chat was full of messages from Kandy, Jan, Lagoona, Joey, Kahmora, Utica, Olivia, and Symone demanding to know where they were, if they were alive, and if they could go ahead and start getting drunk without them.

Figures.

“Trust me, this hurts us as much as it hurts you, gorge,” Mik teased as he helped Denali up and off the bed. “You wanna change before we go, by the way? I mean, it’s your night, so you can go in stained sweats if you want, but the restaurant isn’t exactly a McDonalds…”

“He’s trying to tell you it’s fancy,” Rosé cut in, tossing Denali a button-up and neat pair of slacks. “Come on, get changed, I’ll call us a cab.”

Denali didn’t know what he’d expected, but in retrospect, he really should have guessed it was going to go this way. They had barely arrived, and he had barely taken a seat between his two grinning boyfriends when he felt not one, but two hands brushing against his clothes underneath the table. He was ready to bet all the money in the world that Mik had spilled the beans about how antsy he had been in the car earlier — because that was usually how they worked, even if he was usually the one plotting with either of his lovers instead. This was wildly different, and just thinking about it wasn’t helping him in any way.

Denali turned his head just in time to catch Rosé watching him with amusement, his typical smirk clearly playing on his lips, especially as his hand squeezed his upper thigh more firmly. He barely stopped a squeak from leaving his throat at this, and he knew with certainty that Rosé had caught on — and that usually meant he would be relentless. Denali didn’t know how long they were supposed to stay here, but it would be hellish at best. It couldn’t be any other way, not when he felt Mik’s lean fingers slide right under his button-up.

And he was expected to stay calm and keep on with everyone wishing him happy birthday and giving him gifts? Yeah, Denali wasn’t too convinced about that one. He wasn’t sure he could will his body to stay rooted to his chair, instead of ignoring the very public setting they were in and pouncing on the two of them.

Which is exactly why he escaped towards the bathroom the second he had his chance - their friends had been distracting his boyfriends while they took pity on him for a moment to let him eat without having their hands on him all the way through. It may have been the best of all sufferings, but Denali wasn’t equipped to deal with it right now, not until they took care of the mess they created.

Denali looked at his reddened cheeks in the mirror, knowing it wasn’t only because of the drinks he had downed so far this evening. He could only hope that their friends hadn’t noticed too much of this. He was well aware of the reputation they had amongst their friends circle, one that they could barely keep their hands to themselves whenever they were together, as duos or all three of them.

“Ah, so that’s what you’ve been doing. You okay, baby?”

“I told you, he was gone for way too long,” replied Mik with a wicked glint shining in his ocean eyes, locking the door behind him.

“As if you two didn’t plan to get me here,” Denali snorted in response, but he couldn’t say he was mad, not when his lovers were walking towards him, grabbing his wrists and pulling him in to close the distance between them all.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it,” Rosé chuckled, reaching up to cradle Denali’s chin in his hand, swiping his thumb gently over Denali’s bottom lip and smirking when he swallowed hard.

“So what, my big birthday present is a romantic bathroom blowie?” Denali tried to make his voice sound sarcastic, but the waver in it betrayed that he was rapidly falling under his boyfriends’ spell, especially when Mik’s hand snaked around to grab his ass.

“Don’t be ridiculous, gorge,” Mik got up on his toes to bite at Denali’s earlobe, tugging it with his teeth as his grip on the other man’s ass got a little firmer. “We’re much meaner than that, aren’t we, Rosie?”

Rosé simply hummed, dropping his hand from Denali’s face down to his belt, undoing it swiftly and plunging a hand into his pants to palm Denali’s cock through his underwear.

“What’re you--”

“ Shh ,” Rosé cut off Denali’s question with a finger on his lips before his other hand slipped below the band of Denali’s underwear. “Why don’t we give you a little temporary relief, huh?”

“Just enough to get you through dinner,” Mik added, winking, and Denali swallowed hard, but melted into his boyfriends’ touches, unable to resist anymore.

—

As it turned out, Denali and his lovers had two very different definitions of ‘temporary relief.’ They edged him mercilessly for the next few minutes, and he came back to the table harder than he’d been when he left, struggling to act natural as he used Mik and Rosé as shields walking in front of him to hide his erection from his friends. Not that they didn’t all know exactly what had gone down; in fact, with the smug bemusement on their faces as he took his seat again, he wouldn’t be surprised if Rosé or Mik outright bragged about it before coming to torment him.

“Just think about how much better everything’ll be after we get home, baby,” Rosé comforted Denali with a wink and a hand tracing up his thigh as they took their seats again, and as much as Denali wanted to pout at the statement, his heartbeat quickened, and he found himself distracted for the rest of their outing. Luckily, his friends took pity on him after dessert was finally finished, all of them just-so-happening to decide they were ‘too tired’ to go to the club and that they should head home for the night. And not a moment too soon, either; Denali swore that Rosé wasn’t even finished telling the cab driver where to go before Mik was loosening Denali’s belt once again.

“When we get home, it’s gonna be all about you, angel,” maintaining at least a modicum of decency, Rosé slipped his hand into Denali’s pants without undoing them completely, Denali’s dick straining against the fabric of his underwear as Rosé got him worked up with deft, teasing fingers. “Anything you want, we’ll give to you.”

“That’s right, it’s your turn to use us ,” Mik threw Denali’s often-used plea back on him with a nip to his neck, smirking against Denali’s skin when the older man whimpered at the sensation.

“Just a few minutes longer, baby boy,” Rosé promised. “Can you be good for us until then?”

Denali was too far gone to do anything but hiss out a needy yes.

—

He wasn't too sure how he managed to get inside Rosé’s apartment without begging them pitifully to take care of the mess they’d created and entertained all night long.

But still, they at least made it all inside, the door duly closed and locked behind them. It was better than some of the times they’d fallen into a passionate embrace right in the middle of the hallways or in the elevator; Denali was sure they had traumatized at least half their neighbors in their respective cities.

He stopped thinking altogether when Rosé firmly pushed him against the door, and Denali felt the sheer need to wipe off his stupid smirk from his face. His wrists were pushed down, restraining his movements and he whined, trying to fight against the hold to no avail.

"Come on, what happened to giving me what I want?"

Rosé merely chuckled, gently deepening one of the marks they had left earlier in the bathroom. Denali bared his neck more, letting his boyfriend do whatever he wanted.

"Baby, I said we'd give you whatever you want, but I know this is what you want, isn't it? Don't you want to use us and guide us in whatever way you want, but only after you're turned on enough?"

Denali hated how right Rosé was, and clashed their mouths together to avoid answering. He was deeply pleased by the soft groan he got in response, finally freeing his wrists while Rosé was distracted.

But that didn't last — while they had both moved a bit farther away from their front door, still kissing, Denali felt soft hands take hold of his wrists again, a warm body pressing itself on his back. Even through his button-up, Denali could feel the heat of bare skin against his spine, shivering and breaking the kiss to turn his head over his shoulder.

He had been wondering where his other boyfriend had gone, and now he had his answer, as Denali saw the mischievousness play in Mik's darkened ocean eyes. "Whatever you want, baby," he murmured softly, relaxing his hold after a moment to let Denali decide what he wanted to do next.

Denali turned around fully, fascinated by how the youngest had taken his time away to remove most of his clothes already, his hands touching his chest almost reverently. Denali felt Rosé push himself against his back, effectively taking Mik’s previous place, and mouthed at his throat.

He sighed contently, bringing Mik closer to him, but raised an eyebrow when he felt something hard push against his thigh. "Baby, did you get all ready for little old me? Bold of you to assume that's what I'd want," Denali snarked with a breathless laugh, feeling Rosé’s hands unbuttoning his shirt with dexterity.

"It's not bold if I know that's what you want in the end, even if you play hard to get," retorted Mik simply, his hands dropping to help Rosé finish undressing their lover.

Denali has seen Mik wearing a strap-on a countless number of times at this point, witnessed firsthand the change in confidence and demeanor simply having the harness fastened onto the younger man’s hips could bring. How Mik’s jaw became set and the mischievous twinkle always in his eyes turned up just an inkling more, and how the planes of his abdomen always framed whatever cock he was wearing in a way that was so tantalizing, Denali almost couldn’t take it. But it didn’t matter how often Mik’s strap brought Denali to his knees; each time was like the first, and tonight was no exception.

“D’you like my new toy, angel?” Mik cooed, stroking along the shaft of the dick waiting between his legs.

It was one Denali felt like he’d seen before, but didn’t remember Mik having - long and thick, with more ridges and a steeper curve than most of the toys Mik had in his collection. In fact, it wasn’t the kind of strap-on Mik usually went for at all. So then…

The memory clicked in Denali’s mind suddenly, his breath catching in his throat as he thought back to about a month ago, remembering just where he’d seen Mik’s new cock before.

Michelada: bbies SOS im dying for a new dick

Michelada: help me pick?

The texts had been followed by three links, different sex stores that were usually their go-tos for toys. Denali remembered perusing each site leisurely, trying to imagine what Mik would look like with each dildo he saw, until finally reaching one that he just couldn’t move on from, one that had looked absolutely perfect and that he’d just known Mik had to have.

One which, perhaps not so coincidentally, was now right in front of him, close enough to touch. And before he could stop himself, he found himself doing just that, reaching forward to wrap his hand around it, feel over its ridges and imagine what they’ll feel like inside of him--

“No,” Rosé slapped Denali’s hand away, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. “What’s the rule, baby boy?”

“Come on ,” Denali groaned impatiently, unhappy with having been cockblocked for the umpteenth time tonight. “Isn’t this supposed to be my gift? Just let me--”

“Gifts can be taken away, sweetheart,” Rosé reminded Denali with a low growl, his grip around the younger queen’s waist tightening. “When you want something, what do you have to do?”

As if to hammer in his point, Rosé wrapped his other hand to rest on Denali’s throat, and Denali swore he could hear Rosé’s breath hitch when he swallowed hard against the older man’s palm.

“Please, Mik, please can I touch your cock?”

Mik smiled, taking Denali’s hand and bringing it to his lips to plant a chaste kiss on it before looking back up at Denali. “Wouldn’t you rather put something other than your hand on it, doll?”

Denali’s eyes widened at the suggestion, and before Mik or Rosé could say anything else, he found himself dropping to his knees, grabbing the toy to hold it steady as he licked his lips. “Whatever you say, daddy .”

Seeing Mik shiver at the title was worth every bit of teasing, and Denali couldn’t help but feel a flash of amusement as he finally wrapped his tongue around the head of Mik’s strap.

Denali suddenly remembered how much he enjoyed doing this when he felt his boyfriend’s hips twitch lightly underneath his fingertips, which were resting on Mik's lower body. Nothing but pleasure shot through his veins at feeling his knees press harshly to the cold floor; Mik's hand pulling on his dark hair the more he took him in; and seeing Rosé palming himself from the corner of his eyes.

He wanted a lot of things from them for his birthday, but right now he didn't want to be anywhere else. He didn't want to do anything other than please his youngest boyfriend while their lover watched them, absolutely enraptured. Rosé seemed on the edge of acting up, barely holding back, and Denali didn't want him to.

Rosé had been right earlier, not that he would admit it out loud. Denali wanted to get riled up until he couldn't think of anything else, and only then have the permission to use them without breaking any rules.

He wanted Rosé to make him beg and Denali knew exactly how to handle it so it would happen. "Daddy," he whined, "wanna feel you too…"

Rosé hummed, coming closer to them and ruffled Mik's hair softly, pulling him forward to bite down on his bottom lip. Denali revelled in the groan that Rosé got from their lover, tilting his head in curiosity when he saw the oldest whisper something in Mik's ear. Denali wasn't too sure of what the other two had talked about, but the mirth he witnessed shining in both their eyes as they turned to him was enough. He stayed still, knowing better than to disobey them so clearly.

He’d only let himself be pulled up to his feet when Rosé grabbed his hand, winked, and dragged them both towards his bedroom. Denali didn't know what he was in for, but he trusted them. He knew he'd have a good time, as long as they were all together, the three of them.

—

Denali was eager to know just how far he could stretch the lines of their rules for the sake of being a birthday boy, and that's exactly what he tried — he escaped Rosé's firm hold on his waist to push an unsuspecting Mik down the large bed, watching his ocean eyes widen. Denali knew he needed to take advantage of their position while he still had the upper hand, and shrugged off his button-up and pants in the same breath. He wasn’t surprised to have Mik’s full attention, gaze riveted on how Denali’s dick fully strained against his underwear, picture completed with the wet spot already there. It wasn't surprising with how teasing his boyfriends had been all damn evening, edging him without any care.

Denali let one thigh slide over, effectively straddling a dazed Mik and watching him intently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosé come closer, a warning playing on his traits, and Denali channeled all his inner strength to turn around. He wiggled his finger in what he hoped was a threatening way.

"Stop," Denali said in a rough, low voice. He was pleased to see Rosé freeze, and continued with a smirk, "Sit. Let me have my fun."

As his boyfriend did what he wished, Denali added on to it, "Y'know what? Why don't you take off your clothes, too, you're a bit overdressed between us three."

Even if Rosé’s hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, he still did what was asked of him, and Denali almost got off on that power alone. "Come here," he mumbled, just as awestruck as Mik had been watching him earlier.

To have Rosé so pliant now clearly meant that he would pay for it eventually, but he didn't mind — he barely got to play with them like this, usually more at ease with being at the entire mercy of their whims.

But it was his birthday, and he could still feel the hot shiver running down his spine when Mik had said Denali could use them. Even if his body wanted to get pushed between them as they ravaged him until the night ended, his mind still wanted to enjoy this rare opportunity.

Obsidian and hazel eyes met like a storm, and eventually, Denali won the stare-down, bringing his free hand to push Rosé down his bed too, the older man going willingly. Their eyes never broke contact, and Denali felt the same need to touch him, make him scream his name endlessly, in whichever way he could.

He had all the power now, both of his lovers down under him, with Denali straddling one and loosely pressing the other one down into the mattress. They were watching him with such love and trust, Denali knew all these weeks away were worth it in the end — just so he could be with them. His heart fluttered when Rosé covered his hand with his own warm one, and when Mik gently stroked along his thick thighs.

Now Denali just needed to get to work, having them both waiting eagerly for his next move.

“I think you should go get the lube," he leaned down until his nose was inches away from Mik’s, the urge to kiss him only spurred on by the way Mik was clearly thinking the same thing. The younger queen was angling his face up, slowly and hesitantly craning to try and close the distance between himself and Denali. But Denali wouldn’t let him, stopping him instead with a hand on his throat, a gentle reminder of the task at hand.

“Earn it,” he challenged, and it was both the right and wrong move.

A fire lit up in Mik’s eyes, and he could feel Rosé shift under his hand. He barely had to process it all--Rosé’s hand on his wrist, Mik’s hands on his shoulders, firm pushes and pulls flipping their positions entirely to pin Denali down again.

“Isn’t he cute, Rosie?” Mik chuckled as he began to work his hands over Denali’s body again, trusting Rosé to pin Denali’s wrists down firmly as he continued to tease him. “He still thinks he’s in charge.”

“Silly thing,” Rosé clicked his tongue, though his smile stayed affectionate as he leaned down to nip at Denali’s jaw. “I said we’d spoil you, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’re the boss here.”

“Please—“

“So bad with manners today,” Rosé cut off Denali's would-be protest with another bite to his jaw, a little harder this time. “Please what, baby boy?”

“Please, daddy, please fuck me, open me up for you, fuck, it’s been so long…”

“Good boy.”

With that, Mik slid away to grab lube and a condom, leaving Rosé alone to attend to Denali.

“What do you need from me?” Rosé landed one more soft bite over Denali’s pulse-point before continuing to travel along the line of his neck, kissing and sucking and teasing with little kitten-licks as Denali squirmed underneath him, savouring each and every sensation.

“Your mouth, daddy, please,” he panted breathlessly as Rosé moved to his collarbone, then down over his chest. “Need you on me.”

“You wanna fuck my face, baby?” Rosé raised his head to look up at Denali, but his teasing didn’t stop; he brought a hand to one of Denali’s nipples, tracing over it with his thumb as Denali nodded resolutely. The tension hardly lasted though; as if right on cue, Mik crawled back onto the bed, eyebrows knit in equal parts curiosity and amusement.

“Who’s fucking whose face now?”

"Well, I think Nali wants me to go down on him and use me, but I'm not sure if he’s earned it," chuckled Rosé, letting one of his hands still roam along Denali's upper chest, teasing the base of his throat. "What do you think, baby?"

"I think… and only because it's his birthday, we can entertain some of his demands. Maybe. If he remembers some manners," smirked Mik, sitting cross-legged and watching them.

"Please, I'll be good, I promise," Denali whined pitifully, trying to get back their attention to him. He watched as his boyfriends traded a gaze, and shivered helplessly underneath it.

"Okay, baby — you'll get my mouth, but if I see you trying to fuck it before you get permission, you can be damn sure it's the only thing you're gonna get tonight, birthday or not," Rosé said in a rough, stern voice. "Do you understand?" he asked, starting his descent, hazel eyes focused on Denali's face.

"Yes, daddy, I do," Denali barely managed to get out, as Rosé had started to trail his lips along his aching dick.

He bit down on his tongue, trying to avoid giving them the satisfaction of seeing how far gone he already was, especially after having them rile him up all evening. He took in a large gulp of air, willing his hips to stay down and not buck wildly, knowing Mik would easily call him out from his position. His ocean eyes were focused on them, trailing down from Denali's face to how Rosé was working him — and he knew his boyfriend. He knew Mik was enjoying the show more than he let on; Denali could see it in the tightening of his jaw and the way his fingers flexed on his own thighs.

Almost against his will, Denali let out a loud moan as he caught Mik's eyes at the same time that Rosé firmly took his cock inside his wet mouth, instantly hollowing his cheeks. He felt his hips twitch, and grasped at the blankets to avoid the temptation of guiding Rosé himself. He needed to be good if he wanted to have his rewards, after all.

"Rosie, fuck , don't stop, please, please," he blurted out, and he caught the mischievousness clear in his lover’s eyes.

Denali was sure Rosé would have been smirking if he could have, without a doubt pleased with himself. Conscient that he had slipped earlier, his self-control waning by the minute, Denali turned to Mik with dazed eyes. "Daddy, please, please , can I just guide him? I'm so close and I've been so good, please!"

He watched as Mik came closer to him, dragging his chin upwards, his fingertips lingering gently along his jaw. His boyfriend seemed deep in thought for a second, but he finally nodded after seeing his clear desperation. "You've been good, baby boy; ask him if he still wants to, but you can."

Denali was about to actually ask Rosé when his boyfriend only took Denali’s hands and brought them to his own head and shoulder, winking. Denali groaned as he felt a stronger suck, and he harshly pulled on Rosé strands of hair, his nails scraping along his scalp. His hips canted up, so close as he was, and when Denali felt Rosé's throat relax around his length, he moaned hoarsely. His head fell back on the pillows, and his back arched, absolutely drained. Denali was left a panting mess as Mik slowly stroked along his forearm. Rosé, on the other hand, was watching him with amusement, making a whole show of wiping off his mouth.

“How do you feel, gorgeous?” Rosé came up beside Denali, kissing him gently on the cheek as the other man tried to catch his breath. It was a good question, given just how much Denali was feeling in that moment--spent, happy, relieved, excited. Calm.

“Like I’m ready for more,” he finally said, unable to help the wry smile that curled at the corners of his mouth, and he could tell by the way both his boyfriends hummed in satisfaction that that was exactly what they were hoping to hear.

“Was hoping you’d say that,” Mik winked as he popped open the bottle of lube, squirting some onto his fingers to coat them. “Now scoot up the bed a little and open your legs.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Denali shivered as slick fingers started to circle his hole, then sighed contentedly when Mik finally eased his fingertips in, leaning down to kiss the discomfort away. He’d missed the warmth of Mik’s tongue against his, along with the soft moans he always let out into his mouth. He felt Rosé’s eyes lingering as he watched them make out, his fingers stroking through Denali’s hair to get him to relax even more.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Mik pushed in a little farther, pumping in and out smoothly while he watched Denali’s face for any signs of discomfort.

But Denali was fine; in fact, he was more than fine. He felt amazing, each rock of Mik’s hand and crook of his fingers sending pleasure that’s almost electric coursing through Denali’s body. But the best part of it all, the sexiest thing Mik was doing?

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” Mik’s eyes shone with love, his voice almost reverent as he scissored his fingers, smiling when Denali let out a mewl. “Taking my fingers so well, so good for me. I love seeing you like this, Nali. Wish I could keep you like this forever.”

God, was that feeling ever mutual.

But Denali was known to be hasty, sometimes even too much for his own good — he wanted more, so much more. He had waited all night for it and yes , coming once already had helped, but not so much when there was something so tantalizing and new he couldn't wait to experience. Denali knew he was supposed to let Mik tease him and play by their rules, but he was struggling to let it play out without doing something. Rosé was far from helping his restraint, too, when he was watching them so intently and letting both his fingertips and his lips roam along their bodies wherever he could reach.

And then Mik crooked his fingers just right, making him whimper loudly, his back arching and hands trying to hold himself steady on his shoulders. "Please," he started, but finished on a breathless moan, as Mik pushed back harsher, and Rosé’s hand brushed against his cock.

"What do you think, Rosie, is he ready for this?"

Denali watched as his two boyfriends eyed each other, seemingly pondering on their next action — if they wanted to take pity on him or make him beg even more. Denali really hoped it would be the first one, because he remembered how Mik’s dick had felt earlier, on his hand and in his mouth. He felt it push against his inner thigh, causing him to tremble lightly. He wanted, no, needed to have him inside, making him see stars as he'd clench around him—

"Look at him, baby. I think he'll snap if we don't give him something soon," smirked Rosé, turning Mik's face to kiss him too, but they didn't have time to deepen it as Denali whined pitifully to get their attention back.

"So needy," cooed Mik, pulling back his fingers finally, kissing the frown off Denali when he suddenly felt empty. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"If you don't fuck me with the dick that I've thought about ever since you fucking bought it in the next thirty seconds, I will never let you touch me again," Denali threatened, hissing in warning when he heard the warm chuckle of Rosé next to him. The older one seemed quite skeptical of what he had said, too. "Don't try me," Denali warned once more, whacking at Rosé's forearm. "Else I'll extend this to you too."

"You're the worst out of us, Nali. Your love language is literally touch. You wouldn't make it," teased Rosé, with that typical smugness.

"Yeah? Wanna see me try it, starting now?!"

However, his threat fell short when he saw Mik hover above him once more, eyes sparkling with mischievousness. "I don't think you wanna start now, this is just starting to get interesting," he advised, his warm hands moving thick thighs farther apart, and Denali lost his breath for a moment. His heart was hammering in his chest with anticipation of Mik's next move.

But it wasn’t Mik who acted first - rather, Rosé reached out to graze his hand down the planes of Denali’s abdomen, fingers scratching down Denali’s stomach and stopping at his pubic bone and lingering there.

“One more time, baby,” he whispered, winking over to Mik before looking down and locking eyes with Denali again. “Be polite, take back your little threat, then we’ll make you feel good.”

There was no way around it; if Denali wanted to be taken care of, he’d have to swallow his pride and do what he was told.

“Touch me. Please ,” he whispered hoarsely, finally giving in to what he’s wanted this entire time. “Touch me. Use me. Ruin me.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth he felt the air in the room change, becoming just a little lighter.

“Let me know if I’m going too fast,” Mik’s voice was gentle, his lips soft and fingers light as he stroked Denali’s cheek, gave him one last kiss. They all knew it was just a gesture--Denali liked it rough, after all, the whole world knew that now--but it was one that meant a lot to Denali just the same.

“Don’t hold back,” he half-ordered, half-pled, and apparently it was all the permission both Mik and Rosé needed.

Denali let out a shaky sigh of relief as Mik finally eased his way in, each ridge and curve of the strap making him shiver as Mik pushed deeper. Meanwhile, Rosé’s hand continued its way down Denali’s body, finally sliding home between his legs to wrap his fingers around Denali’s already-aching cock.

“My, my,” Rosé teased when Denali bucked into the feeling of his lover’s hand on his shaft, only to gasp when Mik began to thrust into him experimentally. “Already excited, are we? Look, Mik, he’s already half-hard again!”

Denali blushed fiercely when Mik looked up and broke into a grin, the sight of his boyfriend’s semi spurring on the rhythm of his thrusts. It was too much, especially when Rosé started to stroke up and down his dick, Mik snapping his hips a little harder to go a little deeper. Denali tried to shy away, tried to hide his face in his hands so that his lovers wouldn't see, but of course neither of them were willing to make it that easy.

“No baby, no being shy,” Mik bit down hard at the juncture of Denali’s neck. “Rosie, make sure he doesn’t get too bashful, yeah?”

It was entirely too easy. Rosé didn’t even break his rhythm stroking Denali’s dick as he grabbed his wrists and brought them up over his head, pinning them down firmly and making it impossible for Denali to wriggle free.

“There we go,” Mik timed his kiss with another thrust and giggled when Denali moaned, trying to squirm for more. “So pretty like this, all blushy and helpless. Doesn’t that feel so much better, angel?”

Denali opened his mouth to answer but Mik picked up speed again, changing his angle slightly, and he found himself lost for words, unable to do anything but mewl as Mik hit up against his spot at a relentless pace.

Stuck between Rosé holding his wrists tightly while he continued stroking him without any trouble even if he squirmed around and Mik still hovering above him and smiling wickedly as he kept his rhythm steady, he wasn't too sure he could last long. Denali could feel the strength of the grasp the youngest had on his hips, knowing that if he kept it up, it would eventually bruise — not that he minded. He enjoyed it. Denali enjoyed it when they left the gentleness behind for a moment, only to rough him up.

He fought vainly against Rosé's hold on his wrist and only got a hum in return, nails digging into his skin. His chest heaved and he arched his back when both his boyfriends decided to go all out at the same time - Rosé twisting his hand just right on his length, lingering on the head to tease him more, and Mik thrusting harshly, his head falling into his neck to moan right against his ear.

"Please," Denali keened, the high-pitched sound resonating against the walls of the otherwise silent apartment.

"Are you gonna come already? Oh baby no, no, that won't do," cooed Rosé, slowing his movements much to the dismay of Denali. He looked desperately at his boyfriend, pleading silently for his cause, but he knew Rosé wouldn't relent, not right now.

"You can hold on a bit longer, no? We just started," Mik smirked, punctuating his statement with a deeper snap of his hips and Denali's head fell back to his pillow. "It will feel better if you let us build it up. Can you do that, baby boy?"

Denali inhaled sharply, trying to recenter himself and not focus entirely on them making him feel so good, on the pleasure building up, but even if he had already come once, the entire night had been enough to rile him up for a good while still.

"Yes, daddy," he answered breathlessly, and he saw the appreciation shine in both his lovers' eyes.

Mik slowed his movements enough for it to feel only teasing inside him, just short of brushing against his spot everytime, and it was driving him absolutely crazy. Added to how he couldn't move his arms, and the lazy strokes of Rosé’s hand against his dick, he just wanted to disobey for once and come now, not later like they wanted.

Denali also knew how it would please them to watch him go wild, trying to keep from misbehaving the best he could. He turned to the only solution he could think of: talking and telling them how he felt, and hopefully it would be enough to distract them from their quest of leading him right into pure madness.

"You feel so good, both of you. Don't want you to ever stop making me feel like this," he started with a hoarse voice, already seeing the effect of it on them. "You’re driving me absolutely insane, please…"

“Tell us just a couple more things,” Mik winked, not breaking his stride, and Denali swallowed hard, waiting to hear whatever idea the youngest had come up with.

“Who’s a pretty boy?”

Fuck. So they were playing this game—not only giving Denali praise but making him praise himself, adding just that touch of humiliation that always put him right on the edge. It was downright cruel, but he was too far gone to fight now. So instead, he played along.

“I am,” he whimpered, earning some faster thrusts and a few flicks of Rosé’s thumb over the head of his cock.

“And who makes the cutest sounds when he’s close?” Rosé followed up, grin positively evil as he quickened his pace a little, making Denali cry out at the overwhelming feeling.

“I do!”

“And who do you belong to, baby, who’re the only ones who can make you feel like this?” Mik was returning to his previous pace now, a fact that was so relieving, Denali almost forgot to answer.

“You, daddy, you and Rosé, only you two make me feel this good, you make me crazy, God, please let me come please—“

“Tell us what you are, sweetheart,” Mik leaned down to whisper in Denali’s ear, his voice taking on a soothing tone when Denali sobbed in response.

“I’m—I—“

Another flick of Rosé’s wrist, a change in Mik’s angle, and Denali couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I’m a good boy, your good boy, please daddy, I need to come so bad, please— oh, oh, fuck, fuck—“

Rosé and Mik must have known he was at his limit, because they didn't ask anymore of him. They just kissed him and praised him and finally, finally told him he could come. Rosé’s hand was painted white with come as Mik continued to fuck Denali through his orgasm, milking out every bit of pleasure they could possibly give him. And by the time he could finally see straight again he didn’t care how tired he was, or how sore, or how much his lovers had tormented him. He was happy and sated, high on pleasure, and he wouldn’t take the feeling back for the world.

He was ready to call it a night, especially after the hectic start of his day, but somehow Denali knew his boyfriends wouldn't stay restless for that long. He just wasn't too sure if he could handle having them all over him for the third time in such a short period, no matter how much he wanted to please them. He felt pleasantly sore all over, and he knew he'd have trouble moving in the next few minutes.

Denali was about to tell Mik and Rosé just that when he heard the rustling of the sheets on the bed, followed quickly by heavy breathing and soft groans. He opened blurry eyes, turning his head towards the side of the mattress.

He was only half surprised to see Rosé hovering above Mik, with the oldest keeping his wrists firmly pinned above his head. Unlike him before, Mik wasn't even trying to squirm underneath their boyfriend, merely trying to kiss him instead, whining when Rosé moved away slightly.

Denali's eyes widened when he caught the free hand of Rosé moving down to Mik's hips, already untying the strap with practiced ease and smirking while doing so. Denali already knew what would happen — he had witnessed it happen so often before with different variations maybe, but it still stayed the same: his boyfriends taking care of each other after he was left fully sated.

He loved to watch them play together and seeing it unfold in front of his curious eyes. They traded roles so easily according to their moods, often without even a need to actually ask out loud. Denali was always eager to know what would happen and this time wasn't an exception.

He had just started to come down to earth, slowly moving himself to sit against the headboard, now with an even better view of his lovers kissing fervently. Rosé was already making a mess out of Mik, and Denali could hear him moan, even if it was slightly muffled.

Denali's dark eyes followed the way Rosé’s arm flexed, relentless with his pacing; he watched as the oldest broke the kiss to tease Mik’s burning skin. When Rosé firmly bit down on his pulse point, Denali could hear Mik pant, finally putting some struggle to the grasp Rosé had on his wrists.

Rosé tutted gently at this, slowing his movements enough to have Mik complain, but Denali figured Rosé was already riled up enough by having taken care of him with Mik earlier, and Rosé promptly picked up back his former speed. From the wicked glint in his eyes, Denali knew Rosé wouldn't stop there and make Mik come just like this, and he sat up straighter against the headboard more than ready to watch them. He wasn't going to miss a single second of it if he had his way.

Denali could feel his body reacting to all he was seeing and hearing, and he hesitantly trailed a hand down his chest, not quite ready to have direct stimulation but also wanting to bank on the warmth he still felt lingering in his lower stomach. And it only increased when Rosé turned a hungry look towards him, licking his lips as he cocked his head towards the youngest.

“Go wild.”

Denali didn’t need to be told twice. They worked in a smooth motion, Denali taking Rosé’s place without so much as a moment gone to waste, kneeling over Mik and boxing him in.

“Can I go down on you?” Denali took his time kissing over Mik’s body, voice full of hope as he whispered the question against his skin. Mik swallowed hard in response, and Denali could practically hear the younger man’s throat as he nodded.

“Need to be opened up, but want your tongue first…”

“Why not both?” Denali winked, and Mik rolled his eyes, but laughed nonetheless.

“Just fuck me already,” he shook his head, still laughing a little.

Denali didn’t have it in him to deny his baby any longer. He began kissing his way down Mik’s body, taking time to explore the places he knew made Mik go wild. And of course it worked—by the time Denali finally made his way to the apex of Mik’s thighs he was nothing but a puddle beneath him, squirming and sighing and very clearly putting effort into keeping his arms on the bed, not grabbing at Denali and pulling his hair like Denali knew he wanted.

“Spread your legs a little wider, angel.”

Denali looked up with wide eyes to see Rosé hovering beside them, hand stroking along his cock as he watched the sight in front of him. With a wink, he tossed Denali their bottle of lube before sitting back on his heels, still stroking himself and waiting.

“I’m not going to deprive you,” Rosé shrugged. “Play with him as much as you’d like, darling. He’ll let us know when he’s ready for me.”

“Please,” Mik added breathlessly, and Denali decided right then and there that he couldn’t wait anymore. He coated his fingers in lube and turned his attention back to Mik, finally setting to work.

Up until then, Denali hadn’t realized just how much he’d taken eating Mik out for granted. How much he’d missed the taste of his boyfriend on his tongue, missed feeling the twitch of his thighs and the buck of his hips under his ministrations. How he’d missed the way Mik’s little sighs and moans clued Denali into exactly what he was feeling as he circled his entrance with wet fingers, easing inside of him slowly and pulling out whimpers that were music to Denali’s ears. He could do this forever, he really could--but he knew that right now, he needed to control himself. Rosé was watching and waiting for Denali’s permission to take over, and Denali wanted nothing more than to see the older man make their boyfriend come undone.

Then again, taking his time meant torture for both of the other men, and after all the shit they’d pulled this evening, didn’t they deserve it?

So he kept going relentlessly, pulling out every move he knew and even trying out some new stuff, until both his boyfriends looked like they were right on the edge of losing control.

Perfect. He had them right where he wanted them — and while he kind of wanted to continue riling them up just for the sheer pettiness of it. For how they had acted all day, Denali also wanted to see them have their moment.

He pulled himself away abruptly, watching with a smirk as his boyfriend helplessly tried to bring him back but to no avail. Denali had already moved back to his original place, easily trading his position with an overly eager Rosé, who had never seemed more ready before. He let one of his hands trail softly along the length of the older one’s arm, their eyes meeting for a few seconds. They shared everything in that simple gaze to be enough that words were unnecessary, but Denali still needed to push through in the near silence of the room, apart from heavy breathing and soft rustling of the sheets. “Take care of him.”

Denali broke into a small grin when he heard the chuckle his boyfriend let out. “You know I always do, but is he really ready?”

“Yes I am, now come on,” Mik loudly whined, grabbing Rosé’s body closer to his own. “And don’t say I’m impatient, just do something!”

Denali watched amusement unfold on Rosé’s expression but he still kept quiet, probably only because he was just as close to losing all his self-control. Denali was well aware that otherwise, Rosé would have just held back to see how much he could get away with before actually fucking him. While neither of them were the best at denying what Mik wanted, both in bed or not, Rosé usually had a better handle on it — especially if the youngest was acting up a bit.

Denali was startled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand squeeze his leg, and he caught smoldering blue eyes watching him. He held his gaze, not wavering when blunt nails dug almost painfully into his skin. Denali only dared to move his eyes away when Mik himself broke their stare down, taking the whole scene in for the first time.

It didn’t matter that he had seen similar scenes so many times before. Something was always fascinating in witnessing his two lovers move so fluidly together, both of them grunting and moaning and whispering sweet nothings at each other between kisses — only for them to enjoy; only for him to see it. Denali watched with rapt attention as one of Rosé’s hands clutched the wrinkled up sheets near Mik’s face, while the other held on to one of his thighs. He was pretty certain that it would come to bruise on his pale skin, but it wasn’t something that bothered any of them.

He watched as one of Mik’s legs hooked around Rosé’s hip, wordlessly encouraging him to continue his actions, as if he would even dare to stop like that. They both were way past the stage of teasing, having taken it out mostly on him before. Denali could see it in how Rosé’s thrusts were already wild and uncontrolled, paces away from the way Mik had controlled his own when Denali had been in his place. He could see it in the thin layer of sweat shining on both their bodies, with how they were both shaking. He could see it in how Mik’s back was arching off the bed, his nails dragging along his leg, only making him more involved in what was happening in front of him — not that Denali wasn’t already with how he was biting down on his already bruised bottom lip, dark eyes focused on them and a hand lazily touching himself.

He had been more or less trying to keep silent and not distract them from their time together, but it was difficult with the kind of show they were putting on for him. Every moan dragged out longer and sounded louder. They purposely exaggerated the deep rocking of their hips so he could clearly see what was happening. It was almost a blessing that Denali had already come twice in a row because otherwise, it would have been a problem. He was more than happy to just give himself a bit of pleasure without any pressure of coming again.

Denali barely caught the rough, low voice of Rosé saying he was close, and his eyes fell to a bright eyed and deeply flustered Mik, knowing without him saying anything that it wouldn’t take that long for him to come either. Not that he needed the indication, with how the indents of his boyfriend’s nails were littered around his leg. Denali was sure he had avoided a few scratches on Rosé’s shoulders and back because of it.

And then he got an idea, a wicked one, and smirked.

“You think you two can come just like this? No, I’m not done watching you yet — it’s still my birthday gift, yeah?”

Denali had to give it to Rosé, he did slow down once his brain caught his words, even if he groaned in displeasure at his intervention. Mik, on the other hand…

“I hate you,” the youngest grumbled, still letting his leg fall off for a second, his head falling back to the pillow now that Rosé was only slowly and shallowly pushing into him. Denali laughed at his misery and shrugged.

“What happened to the ‘we just started’ from earlier? Doesn't that apply to you two as well?”

“Come on, you’re evil,” retorted Rosé, huffing through both annoyance and the strength he needed to keep from bucking wildly as he had been doing before.

“Keep it up and you’re not coming,” he warned in a sickly sweet tone.

“You don’t make the rules —”

“It’s my birthday, I kinda do,” Denali argued, “you two had fun torturing me, so let me do it, too. I’m not that evil, I’m gonna let you come… eventually.”

While neither Mik nor Rosé looked particularly happy about the situation, they didn’t fight Denali any further. He suspected that they couldn’t, not while distracted like this. Their self-inflicted teasing was getting to them both, and Denali felt a spark of smug satisfaction as he watched both of them get closer and closer to cracking. Mik’s cheeks had practically set ablaze with effort and his hips twitched just the slightest bit, clearly unable to lie still completely. That was okay; Denali would give him that at least. After all, the clear effort the younger man was making was surprisingly cute. The fact that he wasn’t quite able to be good, and was unable to control himself completely was even better. Couple that with Rosé’s panting breaths, little whines of need just barely audible underneath that, and it was almost enough to get Denali going again too.

“You both look so precious like this,” he teased a little further as he let his hand wander down slowly between his own legs, beginning to play with himself lazily. “All needy and desperate. Bet it doesn’t feel so good when you’re on the receiving end of it, huh?”

“You like it and you know it,” Rosé retorted, but Mik’s whimper at the taunt betrayed that maybe, just maybe, Denali’s boyfriends were enjoying it just as much.

“Oh, I’m having fun, that’s for sure,” he grinned. “Tell you what, Mik, baby, you’re getting pretty vocal--tell me how you feel, and maybe I’ll let Rosé go a little faster, yeah? It’s only fair, after all.”

He knew he was going to get it the next time they did this, that neither Rosé nor Mik would forget the kind of shit he’d pulled tonight. But he could worry about that tomorrow. Right now, he was set on just enjoying the way Mik was struggling to find his words.

“What, you don’t want more?” he prodded again, grin widening. “Aw, how disappointing. I guess you really can come this way. Okay, Rosie, looks like you’re stuck like this--”

“No, please, fuck , feels so good, but I need more, please, Nali, let me have more?”

Denali couldn’t tell what was hotter--the desperation in Mik’s voice, or the way Rosé looked caught between betrayal and a plea of his own as he looked from Mik back up to Denali, checking for his next move.

“Good boy,” Denali hummed. “Alright, you can fuck for real now. But ,” he added, chest swelling with giddy excitement as he warned, “You both still need to ask to come, and if you don’t come together, then whichever of you would wind up coming last won’t be coming tonight.”

It was a false threat, in reality; Denali planned on pretending to take mercy, to enjoy hearing one of them grovel before he revealed the ruse, if it came to that. But he wasn’t going to let them know that. And in any case, the idea of them coming together?

He couldn’t help but stroke himself a little faster at the thought.

Denali didn't have to wait long to see them fall into action, Rosé instantly picked up back the speed he had from before, while Mik pulled at his hair, getting him closer, almost sobbing in relief. Rosé hummed appreciatively, leaning down even more to capture Mik's little whimpers into his mouth.

Denali let his eyes focus on his two lovers, knowing how close they still were, even when he had interrupted them for a moment. His hand brushed against the head of his cock as he picked up speed, and Denali moaned hoarsely, getting a look from Rosé, and a whimper of his name by Mik.

Denali didn't know if he was going to come once more just by watching them, but he didn't mind. It was enjoyable, and there was almost nothing more satisfying than to witness his two lovers fall off the edge.

He almost lost it himself when Rosé brought a hand down on their boyfriend’s hip, squeezing his bruised inner thigh and making him moan — and Denali might not have had the best point of view with how Mik's raised thigh was hiding it, but he knew what Rosé was doing, and it was more than enough. Especially when the sheer idea of it was mixed up with the high-pitched sounds Mik was letting out now. Denali felt a shiver running down his spine, his chest heaving. Hearing them taking pleasure was always making him crazy, and tonight was no exception. His hips canted up into his tight fist, and he fought to keep his eyes open to watch the scene in front of him unfold until the end.

Denali heard Mik’s scream first, but in his defense, Rosé's moan resonated only a few seconds after, and he stopped stroking himself instantly to the sound, wanting to take it all in without distraction. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, a voice told him they’d disobeyed, hadn’t asked like he’d told them to, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was too satisfying to see them both in such pleasure, enjoying each other, enjoying him watching. He didn’t want it any other way.

Both Mik and Rosé were panting loudly, and Mik had his eyes firmly shut, an arm now flung across his eyes as he tried catching his breath under the strength of the orgasm. Rosé on the other hand had more or less no more strength left in his body, falling halfway on top of their boyfriend.

Denali got closer to them, gently stroking along Rosé's spine, the older one arching his back to get more of his touch. He leaned down to push back a few strands of dark hair from Mik's forehead, his boyfriend mumbling something he couldn't pick up. He dropped his body on the bed, staying slightly up on his elbow and waiting for them to come back down fully.

“Hi,” he turned a soft smile towards Mik, who was the first to look up again, the fuzzy, sated bliss in his eyes making Denali’s heart warm.

“ Fuck, that was good, ” Mik let out a breathy laugh in response, wiping the sweat from his brow as a tired smile broke onto his face.

“You definitely put me through the works, I’ll say that,” Denali teased, stooping down to give the younger man a kiss.

“I think you still aren’t done, though.”

Denali and Mik both turn to Rosé, who in the time since Denali had shifted his focus away had pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking them both up and down with a bemused twinkle in his eye. And for a second, Denali isn’t really sure what he means, until he looks down and--

Oh .

“Huh,” Mik looks down at Denali’s semi, eyes wide with half-shock, half-satisfaction at what he and Rosé had done to their boyfriend. “I gotta say, I knew you were pent up, but three times? I’m impressed.”

Denali blushed fiercely, the heat in his face only intensifying when Mik and Rosé both tittered at his reaction.

“Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” Rosé teased, scooting closer and running a hand up Denali’s thigh. “It’s okay. Here, I know you’re tired--let us take care of you one last time, then we can relax, yeah? How does that sound?”

Denali weighed his options for a moment, but shook his head, unable to stifle a yawn as he did. The truth of the matter was, he already knew he’d be sore tomorrow, especially after everything he’d been through today. He didn’t need to add a broken dick on top of that, since he knew how relentless his boyfriends could be. He’d need to be in tip-top shape for the next week, otherwise he’d never survive.

Besides, there was a part of him that kind of felt like he didn’t actually need anything more, no matter how much his boner tried to say to the contrary. He’d been lavished with attention all evening, every need met for him, and even watching his boyfriends just now--sure, it turned him on, but his satisfaction with the display had gone beyond that. Because it wasn’t just sexy seeing Rosé and Mik fuck, it was also just plain nice for lack of a better word. Hearing Mik’s moans, seeing Rosé’s hips buck in such a wild, yet measured way--it filled Denali with a sense of contentment that was second to none. After all, there was nothing better than seeing Mik and Rosé happy, engaged with and enjoying each other as they played together. In Denali’s mind, that was the real treat of seeing them fuck, so really, did he even need anything else?

“I’m good,” he shrugged, moving up the bed to lie back against the pillow and making grabby-hands at both his boyfriends. “Now c’mere and cuddle me, will you?”

Rosé and Mik both obliged happily without another word.

#rpdr fanfiction #s13 #gottmik #rosé #denali foxx #denali x gottmik x rosé #smut #canon compliant #poly #trans character #writworm42 #fromthenorthernskies #tw daddy kink

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 3

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5860 Archive of our own

Warning : Exhibitionism / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control/ Stranger / Flirting / Edging / Orgasm denial / Orgasm delay / Oral innuendo … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 -

Once I made my way to the living room, I stopped behind the couch and observed the scene unfolding in front of me, unsure of how to start the conversation with the intimidating man on my couch. If he’s Luffy’s friend, he must be alright, right? Giving him a once over, from what I could see, I saw he was tattooed all over his arms and hands. His ears were decorated with a few golden earrings which only added to the charm. Maybe I could start with that?

Walking around the couch, I could feel the vibration inside me at every step and had to keep a straight face until I slumped on the couch next to the stranger. Crossing my legs, I was going to lean my head on the back of the couch but felt his arm and straightened my back before saying, “So you’re the mysterious food benefactor of the night?” He turned around and raised a brow, smirking.

“And you’re the free loader?” Why was the way he said it so hot? I pondered internally. I was taken aback and suddenly wanted to yell at Nami for telling me it’d be ok. With a huff, and slightly warm cheeks, I quickly answered, with composure, “Tell me what I owe you, and I’ll pay my part. And, take the cap off inside. You look shady.” I huffed the last part as I glanced at the white hat on his head.

With the hand that was next to my shoulder, he slowly removed his hat and was going to place it on my head, but I grabbed it and dropped it next to him. “How much?” I repeated again, talking about the food.

“Nothing, at least now she’ll stop telling me I owe her. Which I don’t, by the way.” He explained, his gaze turned to Nami with a slight scowl. I mumbled a thank you.

There was something intimidating in his demeanor, even if you ignored the tattoos all over his arms. Sure, he was dressed casually, a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans but the way he carried himself threw me off. “Right, so, if you don’t owe her, why is she mad then?” I asked. I was going to sit tailor-style while waiting for the three others to finish preparing everything, when I felt the egg move inside and arched my back suddenly.

I quickly got hold of myself, I cleared my throat and looked at the man with an apologetic smile. He seemed curious, but did not say anything. Instead, his eyes observed me intently. “I won a bet. She does not like losing money, and she’s still mad about it.”

“It makes sense,” I hummed, this time crossing my arms over my chest. The conversation was probably over, I did not know what else to ask.

I still did not know his name, but I felt like it was a bit too late to ask. He does not seem too arrogant for now, I thought, very hot, and domineering but not annoying. Lost deep in thought, I suddenly felt something touch my shoulder and look at it to see the man’s hand nudging me. Startled, I contracted my abdomen, which only made me even more aware of what I had started before coming here.

“You look tensed, are you good?” He asked in a, surprisingly, caring tone. I laughed nervously and nodded, uncrossing my leg to look more relaxed than I actually was. A very very bad choice, whenever I’d move, I could feel the toy inside me and the knot in my stomach grow. “I’m great, great. So uh-“ I pointed at his hands, “Bold choice.”

“I suppose it is.” He hummed, not convinced with my answer.

“It’s hot, don’t get me wrong but I don’t think employers are fond of it. Doesn’t it make it harder to find a job?” We were interrupted when Robin handed us our plates, asking us if this was our order. I nodded and took it from her hand before putting the plate on my lap and thanked the black-haired friend for paying then waited for him to take his plate. I thought we’d eat in silence, observing the people in front of us, when he spoke up.

“That’s where wearing gloves come in handy.” He chuckled, taking of forkful of his food before continuing. My mind reacted at the mention of gloves, I remembered the picture HandSurgeon sent this morning and it only make the throbbing between my leg, stronger. “But patients don’t really care about the tattoos, they can’t be picky with who’s cutting them open, can they?” He stated dryly.

I looked back at him with wide eyes, not expecting such a dry reply. Then let out a nervous laugh, before genuinely laughing. “I was definitely not expecting that answer. But you’re not wrong.” I said with a small smile, “I suppose the pretty face balances the threatening aura, and the tattoos.” God why did I say that. I played it off and looked at the three people at the low table, shoving as much food as I could to stop myself from spurting embarrassing shit.

But it did not deter my tongue who seemed to have a will on its own, the man and I spoke at the same time. “So, you’re a doctor?” “Threatening aura?”

I choked on some small bite of food that stuck in my throat and grabbed the glass of water the man handed me. I was going to chug it down but he made a gesture for me to calm down, and drink slowly. While I did, he chuckled, “I work in the medical field, yes. But Nami forbids me to talk about it, maybe another time-“

“That’s right!” She ruffled his hair as she stood up with her empty plate, “No work-talk under my roof! Find yourself someone to spend time with instead of spending all your time at the hospital-“ Nami, who had interrupted the man, got interrupted in return when he told her he got it, that he’d stop mentioning his work but in return she’ll have to stop saying he had to find a partner. She just grumbled and returned to her conversation with Luffy and Robin.

Once I had calmed down, I handed him his glass back and watched him take a sip from it while looking at me straight in the eyes. His already messy hair looked worse after Nami had ruffled it, but he looked good. Perhaps it was because I was aroused, but I felt a certain tension when he did so. He may not have done it on purpose, but I couldn’t find the strength to look away. I stared right back at him, my hand gripping my fork tight when I clenched my wall around the egg, feeling a sudden pleasure. Fuck, this is not how I thought the night would go. But you asked for it, echoed my made-up voice of HandSurgeon in my head.

I masked the gasp that left my mouth by voicing a “Ahhh” of understanding then continued, “Very hot of you to, I assume, have graduated medical school.” Why couldn’t I just say it was great, or awesome? Why did I have to say it was hot? I had to take a deep breath and calm down.

“Glad to know hot and threatening can coexist.” He said with a lighter tone as he put his now empty plate on the arm of the couch before leaning ever so lightly towards me. “Tell me, do you often flirt with stranger you find threatening?”

The speed at which my brain reminded me of HandSurgeon surprised me, I did a lot of things with strangers, so, why not flirt? But I hadn’t really flirt with Luffy’s friend, right?

“Did I flirt, now? Haha. Sorry for the unsolicited advances, but you’re right, I should have asked your name first.” I said half-jokingly, meeting his intense gaze for the first time since he leaned over a bit too much now. To push him to introduce himself, I set my plate down and put my hand in front of me, for him to shake, and told him my name.

It’s with reluctance that he wrapped his large hand around mine and shook it, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Doctor Trafalgar Law.” He did not let go right away. Instead, he observed my reaction. I rolled my eyes but smiled nonetheless, “The title is a bit too much, isn’t it? I mean… you did put the effort of studying a few years, I suppose, but I won’t address you as Doctor. Doc, at best, but-“

He seemed ticked off for a second but masked it and said, “Law is fine, but I put a lot more than a few years into that degree.”

“True, money too, and from what I gathered you also put in the price of a romantic life, am I right?” I blinked a few times, realizing that I either flirted or said something not appropriate. No in between. And it was the result of his pretty face, it made me nervous.

He looked at me up and down a few times then smirked, “That doesn’t mean I don’t fuck.” My breath hitched and I look anywhere but at him, instead choosing to focus on the way his tattooed fingers were splayed over his jeans, tapping from time to time. For a moment, I could imagine those hands gripping me tight, the blue color of his jeans being too close to the color of HandSurgeon’s scrubs only made it worse. I was starting to feel hot all over, I had to calm down and keep things casual.

The fuck am I averting my eyes for? Reminding myself to not be a little bitch, I looked at him once more. My stomach churned when I saw he was still staring at me. He must have seen my intent glare at his hands, hopefully he did not think I was judging him. The exact opposite was going in my head, I wanted those hands to work their way on my skin, gently gliding on my inner thighs. For fuck sake, clear your thoughts, I reprimanded myself the best I could but staying next to Law only worsened things.

“Good for you, good for you. A good fuck’s always nice, right?” I laughed nervously, “But since you’re so keen on bringing such a topic, I have a serious question here,” Was it really serious? No, it was definitely to satiate my curiosity but the way his brows quirked at my words made me feel things.

“Go ahead.”

“Do doctors have doctor kink, like- the whole nurse outfit, or… being called Doctor in a very very sexy way?” I did not expect the laugh that came from his throat. It surprised the rest of the people around who turned around and looked at us surprised.

Law did not pay them any mind; he placed his hands on his knee and made a pensive face. “That’s the first question that comes in your mind when someone tells you they work in the medical field?” He inquired, his tone a lot lower than before.

“I said no work-talk Traff’!” Nami said from her spot. Law groaned and threw her a deadly glare, “Stop with the nickname, and we’re not talking about work. Mind your own business.” I’ll never admit it out loud, but I thoroughly enjoyed his bossy tone, or was it annoyed? When he returned his attention to me, he sighed.

“Hey I’m sure it’s everyone’s first thought, right?” I was trying to lighten the tension, to make it more fun, but he was keen on keeping it the way it was. Moving his hand back on the back of the couch, there was a smug smile on his face as his hand graze my neck. I tensed but did not move, it was probably not done on purpose.

“It’s not. I get ask a lot of things, not this. I’d like to know what else you’re thinking about right now.” He breathed the last part in what I could only describe as seductive. This was too much, with his hand brushing the nape of my neck, his flirty attitude and the constant vibration inside me I quickly stood up. “Be right back, I uh- I need to do something- I’ll share my train of thought after! Promised!” He was startled and looked at me confused, but I did not care, I rushed back to my room and pulled out my phone.

Edelweiss: Still alive and I really need to get off. I did not expect there to be certain people and it has some effect. Clearly.

Edelweiss: Are you still busy?

Edelweiss: sir.

I paced the room, covering my mouth when a gasp escaped my throat from the sensation. I hated this, why did I suggest this, this is not fun. I want to touch myself; I want to get this tension out of my body. No, I need to. But this was clearly not happening. I considered doing it, even though HandSurgeon had told me not to, but reconsidered when I imagined the fun it would be tonight. Luckily, I did not have time to think more as my phone vibrated.

HandSurgeon: Some effect?

Edelweiss: don’t play dumb, he’s like… he kind of has your vibe, the hot vibe and it does not help at all with my predicament…

HandSurgeon: Check the attitude first. Now, we’re talking about the same predicament you asked to be in, right? The one you desperately begged to be in? The one you are clearly enjoying more than you thought you would, that same one? I think you put yourself in that situation, and you’ll get through it like the good girl I know you want to be.

HandSurgeon: It would be a shame to go back home, and see a message from you, telling me you caved and touched yourself. I’d be disappointed.

Groaning, I let myself fall on my bed and brought my phone close to my face. I read his words a few more times before replying.

Edelweiss: so you’ll be here tonight… sir?

HandSurgeon: If my evening does not stretch out, I’ll be sure to have fun with you.

HandSurgeon: If you’re good, of course. I like my fucktoy obedient and eager. Which you are, correct?

I had to take a second look at the name he gave me, I had yet to decide if I enjoyed it or not. But as I read it again, I was leaning towards it being positive. But should I make it easy?

Edelweiss: I’m not your fucktoy though, sir.

HandSurgeon: Hold onto that thought, we’ll see what you’ll say after tonight. I’ll ask again, and I’m fairly certain the answer will be different, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now, I have to leave, don’t force yourself if you feel like it’s too much.

HandSurgeon: But imagine how sensitive you’ll be tonight; how good it’ll feel when you’ll fuck yourself just for me. Your toy filling you just right, the burning sensation of your walls stretching… Putting on a show just for me…

Edelweiss: I get it, I get it… don’t make me imagine it too much or I won’t hold on until the end of the evening 😔

HandSurgeon: You will. See you tonight.

Seeing as the conversation had ended, I sat back up and shoved my phone in my back pocket. Talking to him had not help, at all. The pressure in my lower stomach had only grown, but I had to make do and keep socializing at least until Luffy and Law left.

Now standing up, I checked in the mirror if I had any darker spot from how wet I was and was relieved to see nothing. I had to hype myself to join everyone again, and once I did, they were all sitting around the low table, Law included. They did not pay any mind to my return, except Robin who patted the spot between her and Law, smiling. Returning the smile, I shuffled their way and sat down. I made sure to sit on my foot to get more comfortable.

Maybe to get some friction too from time to time. Or to make sure the egg did not slip out, could it even? Shaking my thoughts away, I focused back on the conversation happening and realized I was being talked to. “I’m sorry, could you repeat?” I said softly.

“Where did you hurry off to?” Robin asked gently, Nami followed with more snark, “Yeah, you had Traff’ here worried. I’d run too if he was making some adv-“ Seeing how annoyed Law seemed to become when Nami teased him like that, I interrupted her with a polite smile.

“I remembered I had to send an assignment, but it’s done now! I’m single and ready to mingle- or like just, to party. I’m not- yeah I’ll…” I made a zipping motion with my hand over my mouth and poured myself a drink when the conversation resumed without a hitch.

Law who was leaning back, his hands on the ground behind his back, observed all my actions without a word. At this point it was clear he wasn’t listening to the conversation right in front of him. I turned his way with a scowl and hissed in a hushed tone, “What do you want?”

It seemed to put a smile on his face as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees now. “Still curious of your thoughts, and even more curious of why you lied. But you’re not going to tell me the latter.” He huffed a laugh, “Not yet, at least.” His confidence could now be qualified as arrogance, I had a hard time distinguishing them from one another. Turning around to face him, I discretely moved my heel to get some friction and took a rapid breath.

Choosing to ignore the fact that he assumed, correctly so, that I lied, I mimicked his posture. Resting my chin on my hand. “Then ask me what you want to know, I live to satiate your curiosity doc.” I said sarcastically. For some reason, he made a weird face for the span of a few seconds. He was quick to get a hold of himself and smirked. “Careful, I might just use that eagerness of yours.”

I held back from widening my eyes in surprise, maybe even smile. I liked it, it was strange how easy it was for him to make my stomach churn in need, but I enjoyed it a lot. Giving him a half-smile, I hummed inquisitively, “What if I say I’d like that?” I regretted my words instantly, and was about to lean back when Law said in a low tone, “Then I’d be sure to give you my number to settle a date.”

Looking at him with wide eyes, I couldn’t help but be flattered and smiled stupidly. “We barely know each other, sir. I believe buying someone dinner first is the tradition.” I said humorously. I was trying to back out of this, I don’t know why but the fact that he met all my expectations frightened me for a moment.

He scoffed in response and leaned back, putting his hand forward, palm up. I quirked a brow and put my hand on his, only for him wrap it around mine and pull me towards him, “I was asking for your phone.” He whispered before letting go. I quickly pulled my hand back and frowned, masking my embarrassment by saying, “Well, you could have been clearer. Maybe use your words? That’d be interesting too, it does avoid me doing looking like an idiot.”

Smirking, he huffed a laugh once more and said, “I could have, but then you wouldn’t have done that.” He then pulled out his phone and handed it to me, a new contact ready to be filled. “And you looked kind of cute.” Law continued, his brows raised as he glanced down at his phone for me to take. I took it with a grumble, not knowing what to answer. So, I typed in my number and let my thumbs hover over the name. “I’m really thinking of a joke here, for my name.”

With my fingers tapping the back of the phone, I hummed in thought. “It’ll be the thing that appears on your phone when you’re working, so…” After saying that, he gently snatched it from my hand and shook his head. “You’re right, I’d rather you did not do something childish.”

I had to put my drink down to give him an incredulous look, “Funny, not childish. But I suppose my full name makes just as much sense.” I rolled my eyes with a smile.

Maybe it was happening too fast, but we could get to know one another on those dates. If that’s what he had in mind. If not, I was not against having him as booty call, not when he looked this hot. When I felt my phone vibrate, I suddenly felt all excited. My brain thought for a second it was HandSurgeon, then the penny dropped and I saw an unknown number had texted me “Trafalgar Law.” Looking up at him, I quirked a brow.

“Very uncreative for a first text. I’ll send a better one, then you can call me childish.” I then proceeded to send him an eggplant, a droplet and the two eyes emojis. The disappointment in his eyes was priceless, I snorted ungracefully which earned me another raised brow from the handsome doctor. “Because that is better? If you want something, I’m sure you can use words instead of emojis, try again.” He told me with a smug smile. My walls clenched around the toy inside me, his demeanor having a pleasing yet unwanted effect on me.

It felt wrong. We were just discussing, our friends around us, and I was getting off. I was finding pleasure in all of this, my skin being more and more sensitive as time went on. “You’re the one who had questions, I don’t have much to say, really.” I shrugged, focusing on saving his number under the name The fuckable doctor friend. Proud of it, I showed him and he rolled his eyes, telling me to change it to his full name. “Hey, you say ‘use my words’. I say ‘it speaks for itself’.”

Making a gesture to come close, he brough his hand between our face in a way people do when they exchange a secret. Then he said, “I thought you wanted to go on a date first, but you seem to clearly be needing a fuck to clear your thoughts.” I suddenly turn to face him, he was looking down at me with half-lidded eyes and a cocky smile. Our faces were very close, if I wanted to, I could lean in and press our lips together, I could push him down and-

“Hey, hey, hey guys, how about you keep that for like- let’s say, a time when we’re not all here? I could almost cut the tension with a knife!!” Nami said as she put a hand on both our chest, separating us with a nervous laugh. She then looked at me with a frown and hissed, “I thought you had better taste than that-“ “I wouldn’t know, you didn’t even let me get a taste.” I shrugged.

Looking to the side, I saw a surprised look on Law’s face quickly followed by a proud smile and a short laugh. “He’s no good,”

“I think a lot of people would say differently, they often thank me for not being able to walk the next day which says a lot.” He said casually, giving Nami the cockiest look ever.

I was turned on so bad from what he had said, from the attitude too, while Nami just looked at him with an unfazed expression. “Right, you hardly get free time Traff. I don’t think your conquests list is that long, but it’s great you believe it.”

His laugh was enough to cut the conversation short. He was not going to argue back, there was no need to, but he was still slightly annoyed. “Damn Nami, you seem pretty invested in his sex life. Maybe you should find someone-“ She interrupted me with bright cheeks, “Shut up! I’m taking things slow with Vivi!!” I rarely see her flustered, but it felt nice because I was able to make Law genuinely smile.

Letting us go, Nami stood up and pulled Luffy and Robin with her to the kitchen when Luffy asked about Vivi. Watching them go, I let my back hit the ground as I sighed. I was this close to kiss him, and fuck was it, “Hot…” I mumbled. I was quick to get up when I heard Law’s voice asking me “What is?”

“Fuck, I had completely forgotten you were there- I don’t know how I did that but-“ Sitting back up, I covered my mouth and leaned on my hand in faux-casual, trying to cover the sudden wave of pleasure when I moved. I moved my hand to my cheek and tried to smile normally. “Sorry about Nami, she is very… Protective? Which I don’t understand why-“ my last word was said in a higher tone when I tried to scoot closer to the doctor but only made my situation worse.

Still, I continued and cleared my throat. “I badly moved and uh, my muscles…” I tried to justify my sudden outburst, “Anyway, I don’t understand why she’s protective, you don’t seem like a bad guy.” I continued, “And if you’re Luffy’s friend, by default you’re actually a nice guy.” Law stared at me, deep in thought. He pondered my words for a moment, it gave me time to take in his features. His facial hair wasn’t too much, sure it probably would feel a bit itchy if we kissed but…

At the same time, my brain sent me an image of him going down on me. His hair tickling down and making me squirm, then when he’d look back at me, his beard glistening with- “I don’t think that’s how it works; you don’t know what I do when behind closed doors. Maybe I’m a criminal.” He trailed off, giving me what was supposed to be a mysterious smile.

“I suppose we all have secrets, it’s not that bad. I have mine; you have yours. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” I stated, “Plus you save life, you literally studied around… a lot of years? To save people, it’d be counterproductive to kill them. At best you’d be a conman, and you know…. Eat the rich.” I hummed, thinking of something else to add. I thought the tension from before had dissipated, then I felt his hand touched mine that was splayed on the floor to keep me balanced. I was startled but did not move. Instead, I slowly looked at him, he was gazing down at me with a mischievous smile.

“It’s cute, you think I dropped our previous topic. But tell me, you were curious about something.” His eyes trailed from our hands to then look me up and down, his lips pulled in a lazy smile. I was taken aback and dug my nails deeper into the ground, but since it was hard it only showed my fingers bent. “Was it a general curiosity, or were you wondering about someone in particular?” He asked.

Laughing nervously, I thought I had to act cool, maybe cocky in return even. “Maybe I did not mean anything from that? Or maybe I am wondering if I have to invest in a nurse outfit for our first date- but then again, you’d have to pay it since you can afford it-“ He cut me off with a long sigh, “Avoiding the topic I see. Are you that embarrassed to admit you’re the one who fantasies abou being fucked by someone in a long white coat?” He said it in a dismissive way, but the glare he was throwing me from the side only lit a fire inside me.

I wanted to tell him I did not, but my mouth wouldn’t let me. I stared once again at his hand and watched it make its way to my thigh. He did not go high, barely above my knee and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over it. “Cat got your tongue? No witty remark? Maybe I struck a chord.” I wanted to close my eyes, and let myself get overwhelmed by his touch. It was barely anything, but with how much stimulation I had been getting the entire evening, I was so close to cave.

His hand traveled a bit higher on my thigh, I did not say anything. “Would you prefer I wear the coat, or you do? I’d have you completely naked, wearing nothing but that, splayed on my bed…“ He leaned over, his breath caressing my ear, “Tell me to stop.” He breathed, his hand slithering higher. “Looking straight ahead instead of facing me? Why not,” He gripped my chin and turned me his way, “look at me? That’s it, those eyes. So needy and-“

“Traff! Let’s go!! It’s getting late,” Luffy called from the kitchen as he hopped off the isle.

I let out a breath I did not know I was holding when Law removed his hand from my thigh, sighing in disappointment. When I finally dared to meet his gaze, I saw how satisfied he looked. ��I’ll send you a message when I am free. But send me a creative text if you feel like it, I’ll be sure to match the mood.” He said cockily as he stood up.

Before he could go, I grabbed his hand to stop him, and craned my neck up to look at him, “Date first, then-“

“Then I’ll be sure to enjoy the sight of you from this angle,” He place his hand under my chin to get a good look, the way he was looking down at me was hungry and desire. If I did not have principles, I would have taken him right now, “It’s quite enjoyable to have you at this height. Just perfect, really-“ “Traff! Come on!!”

I’ll give you a call when my schedule allows it-“ He started, but I got a hold of myself and scrambled to my sense, stumbling a bit when I stood up, I gripped his hand and took it off my chin, “If I’m free sure,”

He chuckled lowly and stepped closer once more, a knowing grin adorning his features, “You will be.” Then he walked away without saying anything more.

They both put their coats on and stepped outside, Nami accompanied them outside while Robin stood by the door until they were out of sight. Once they were gone, Robin locked the door and turned around to give me a huge grin. “Law’s dropping Luffy back to his place and offered to drive Nami to Vivi’s house… That means we can talk about what happened- no what’s been happening the entire evening.”

She seemed too invested, the way she leaned her elbows on her knees once she sat down on the couch showed it, that along with her huge smile. “Hey, Nami sold the product wrong, alright?” I started when I slumped next to her. The vibrations inside me were a constant reminder that I should satiate her curiosity fast, for something was waiting for me in my own room. Something a lot different than a casual dinner with friends.

“Is that so?” She inquired, her grin only widening. “How come you never talked about him? He’s super hot, and those tattoos? Does he not ooze ‘fuckable’? I don’t have time to date but-“ I was cut off when she quipped in, “Neither does he, but I’m sure you both could make an exception.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help my lips from curling into a smile. “I just want to fuck right now, so does he. That’s a common understanding between that gorgeous man, and me.” I hummed, thinking of something to add. But Robin beat me to it.

“He did say you were going on a date, I believe?”

I had to do a double take and raised by brows, “He- when?”

“Before leaving, he said we’d see each other soon when he’d pick you up for your date.” She explained in her usual gentle tone. She seemed to ponder a bit longer, trying to remember the moment more.

“Well it’s not even settled, and it’s just to get to know one another-“ “It often is, yes. First step to a beautiful romance.” I snorted at her words, then shook my head.

“Maybe, just maybe. But I barely know him, and right now I’m more interested in knowing if I’ll be able to walk afterwards or not.” It made my friend laugh, she then grabbed my hands in hers and nodded.

“If it’s any help, you definitely caught his eye. Making him laugh is hard, but you did, so many times. I wonder what you were talking about…” She trailed off, quirking a brow inquisitively. It was indeed a subtle way to see if I’d give her the gossip, but I was not going to tell her we were basically eye-fucking each other the entire time and talked about sex most of it too.

Although they must have noticed the eye-fucking, god the discretion is lacking tonight. I was still buzzing with excitement thinking of tonight, hoping the HandSurgeon would be online.

“He was mocking me, but I’m glad it made him laugh.” I huffed jokingly. The conversation ended shortly afterwards, Robin had to work on something and told me to text her if I needed something because she was going to put her headphone on to not annoy me with her music. It was pretty fortunate, but I’d still try my best to be silent on my part, considering what I was about to do.

We bid each other good night and I tried to go back to my room as calmly as possible. I wanted to rush there, take off all my clothes and check if I had a message from the HandSurgeon. I felt uncomfortable in my clothes, when I moved, they’d brush against my skin and I hated how sensitive it had become from the overstimulation.

I made a detour by the bathroom to grab a towel then locked the door behind myself when I stepped inside my bedroom. Taking off my clothes took but a few seconds however made sure to keep my underwear. Plugging my phone in, I grabbed my laptop and placed in on my bed. I made sure to angle it right, so that we couldn’t see my face, then placed the towel on my bed along my vibrator.

Once I knelt on it and opened Discord, I noticed the messages from the HandSurgeon and the fire inside me was lit ablaze once more.

[Part 4]

#law one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #One piece law #law x reader #words of pleasure #wop #physicalturian #ao3 #fanfiction #writing #writer #writings #ao3 writer

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pl-panda · 4 years ago

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The vines that bind us - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

She was now back in Gotham and it was time to start acting like it.

The break came sooner than expected. Mari might have actually missed it if not for the text from Chloe that they are on their way. Mr. Drake locked the doors to his office from the inside to made sure nobody interrupted him unless Batman started skateboarding in the lobby (his words). She really didn’t know what to think about the young CEO. So far their interactions were limited to the brief moment of panic before meeting Luthor, followed by this brief moment when he locked the doors.

When she arrived in the cafeteria, Chloe was already waiting for her with Ethel. They took over a table in the corner and already littered it with various documents and folders.

“Um… Hi?” Mari greeted them.

“Oh, Mari-bear!” Chloe grabbed the girl by the wrist and dragged her to the table. When she was seated, several papers were put in front of her.

“So! Ethel and I read through the contract and we have good and bad news? Which first?”

“Let’s get the bad out of the way.” Mari nodded.

“You’re stuck in that job for half a year.”

“What!?”

“Don’t worry.” Ethel palaced her. “It’s not as bad as it looks. The whole deal was that you could be hired at any point of your internship for a period of six months, after which there would be a revision of your contract to either terminate it or make it more permanent.”

“Who does that kind of thing?” The girl shouted a bit louder than necessary, but nobody paid them any mind. Alya and Lila were clearly visible at the other side of the cafeteria with a large crowd around them.

“It’s practically never used. I mean now you have all the benefits of being Wayne Enterprises’ employee. Plus you will actually have a salary. And Sarah’s salary was nothing to scoff at.”

“But… What about school!? I know we were allowed to leave for two months, which by itself is crazy if you ask me…”

“Given that our headmaster is an idiot that bends under whoever throws money at him and our teacher should never be allowed to be in the same room as any child…” Chloe muttered in French.

“Yeah. I get your point. But I can’t just leave school for six months!”

“Puh-lease!” Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “We both know you could’ve graduated in the middle of last year if that Chienne and Connard allowed you. And you would have the perfect scores. Hey! I’m sure you can sit SATs in Gotham while you work here.”

“And my commissions?” She looked at the blonde. “Marigold Désign et Création is only starting to get some popularity. I can’t just close the store! Oh no! What about my Flower Shop in Paris? The girl I hired was supposed to work there only for like… three months best! I can’t just suddenly… Oh no! You know Sang hates being away from me! And what if Bleue outgrows her pot? And don’t get me started on Rouge! He is…’

Mari suddenly felt two hands on her shoulders. “Goldie! You’re spiraling again.” Chloe stared in her eyes. “And your eyes are showing.”

That finally calmed Mari. She usually tried to suppress her natural look in favor of how she used to appear. Her iridescent green eyes were kept blue and dark-blue hair muted to the point it seemed black. Plus her skin was not green unless she was using her powers. She was not sure where that skill came from and she was ninety percent certain her mother couldn’t just mute her green skin and fiery red hair. Still, she was glad that she did not have to look like an Akuma 24/7.

“Thanks, Queeny. I’d probably have a breakdown if not for you.”

“You have a Flower Shop in Paris?” Ethel asked curiously.

“My… It used to be a bakery before I inherited it. Since I like plants more than bread, I turned it into my own greenhouse. I used to only have a small garden on the rooftop, but then I kinda… filled every room with plants.” Mari suddenly blushed.

“Whoa. You sure do love plants. Are you sure you’re not related to Poison Ivy?”

Chloe half-expected Mari to start trying to deny it or babble.

“And what would make you think that?” The girl joked instead. “Just because my plants don’t wither at my touch, I am related to a villain?” It might have come harsher than she wanted, but her bright smile and pearly voice made it clear that she had no hard feelings.

Ethel laughed. “True. I’m sorry about the commissions and the store. I really wish there was something WE could do, but our hands are tied.”

“How am I supposed to be a personal assistant? I have like zero experience or even theoretical knowledge!”

Ethel opened another folder and read something. “Well, you were class representative, ran your own small business, kept up with school work, met with clients, and babysat several kids. That’s pretty much what you have to do now. Just make sure that the baby is doing things on time and organize his time.”

“Ha ha ha.” Chloe deadpanned. “Why not ask Nathalie? She liked you well enough.”

“I can’t just call her and ask her to teach me!” Mari protested. “I mean she must be very busy!”

“We can go find the disaster boy. He can definitely convince her.”

“I can’t just use Adrien like that! And besides, we don’t need to look.” She pointed at where the Blond boy sat next to Lila. He was clearly very uncomfortable with his situation, but they both knew that he couldn’t go against his father’s orders. Apparently, ‘Lila was good for business’.

“Then we can go now. Thank you, Ethel.” Chloe said as she grabbed Mari and started to drag her toward the group.

“Stop it! Queenie! You know…”

“Hush! I will deal with the idiots if they try anything.” The blonde silenced all protests.

The two approached the group just as Lila was finishing a ridiculous tale about how she was on good terms with the bat-family. Alya was of course recording the whole thing and streaming live. When the class spotted girls approaching, Kim and Ivan quickly turned into bodyguards blocking them from joining.

“What do you two want this time?” Sabrina asked with venom.

“Like I would lower myself to dealing with the common rabble. I came to speak with the only person here who doesn’t have a negative number of brain cells, so be kind enough to let us pass. Or just pry Adrien from Lila and we will leave you to your fantasy world.” Chloe stared down at her former follower (they were never really friends).

“Nobody asked you!” Rose shouted.

“Sabrina did.” Mari pointed out. She was not sure why, but she felt much more confident in her dealing with the class now that they were in Gotham. Maybe it was because they were now on her own turf, maybe because there was no Akuma risk, or maybe she was just done.

“Shut up you bully!” Alix shouted. “Adrien doesn’t want to go with you anywhere!”

Over half of the WE employees disperse, not wanting to be pulled into the drama. The ones that stayed were just looking between the two groups.

“Actually,” Adrien started, surprising everyone, Lila included. Why was her boy talking? She didn’t order him to talk. “I’m curious about what they want. The break is almost over anyway so we should probably get going back to work.” He said diplomatically.

“Whatever!” Alya put her phone down.

When the class and the spectators dispersed, Adrien sighed in relief. “Kwami I hope Gerard gets here soon. He usually tries to at least limit the Liar somewhat. Then again, he won’t be coming to WE…”

“It’s a tall building. I’m sure that we could make it look like an accident.” Chloe grinned.

“We are not killing her!” Mari protested.

“Spoilsport.” The Blonde deadpanned.

“Anyway, is that a social call or do we have some situation? Please tell me it’s not an Akuma.”

“Not that I know of.” Mari quickly checked her phone, but so far no messages.

“Mari here got hired.” Chloe did not bother with subtlety.

“Congratulation!” The boy beamed. “I knew you would do great here. We should go to celebrate on Friday!”

“Except I have no idea how to be a personal assistant.” Mari moaned.

“Oh! That’s no problem. Let me just call Nathalie.” Before the girl could protest Adrien already had his phone out and dialed his Father’s PA. “Nathalie?” He asked when the face appeared on the screen.

“Adrien. I’m sorry but your father is not here. He left Paris and won’t be returning for some time. He will be supervising the acquisition of new resources in China.” She informed him.

“Oh. That’s no problem. I actually wanted to speak to you.” He smiled brightly.

“Huh?” She asked surprised.

“My friend Marinette found herself in a peculiar situation of being hired as a personal assistant. Would you mind giving her some pointers?”

“Sure. Please forward her my personal number so she can call me in an hour. I will be free by then.”

“Thank you, Nathalie. You’re the best.” He waved the woman goodbye and hanged up. “See? No problem at all.”

“Um… Okay… Thank you so much!” She hugged him tightly.

“Sure. That’s what friends are for. What about the Friday celebration?”

“Well, I can give you all a Marinette tour through Gotham…” Her smile grew a little mischievous “Or you can get Marigold style trip.” They all laughed before scrambling to do their respective works.

Mari got into the elevator and pressed the top-floor button. Slowly, the doors closed and it went up. When she arrived, she looked around to check if anyone was looking for her before walking to her desk. Out of nowhere, a blade pressed itself to her neck.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” A low voice asked from her right, slightly to her back. Immediately, she tensed.

“I work here if you must know. Now I apologize for the delay if you needed something, but I was trying to sort out a certain problem. Do you have an appointment with Mr. Drake?”

“Tt. I’m not in a mood for games.”

She smiled slightly. Acting faster than would be expected, she grabbed the blade in a monkey grip and pushed it away. The attacker then tried to swing it at her, but she managed to side-step. Doing a quick lunge she managed to punch his hand and make the blade move to the side while walking into the guard. She delivered a strong punch to his face, followed by a low-kick to the back of his knee, forcing him on one knee. The daze caused him to loosen the grip he had on the sword. Mari kneeled on his legs, pinning him down and at the same time stole the sword and threw it away. Before he even had a chance to explain anything, she delivered another punch to his head, making the boy see stars before everything turned black.

She gathered herself and walked to the sword. It was rather simple ninjato that she stored under her desk. There was a tablet with the WE logo on it that she promised herself to check later. The intercom had at least two dozen buttons. They were all labeled with some shortcuts she did not understand, so instead, she picked the security number from her WE employee handbook and called.

“Um… Hello?”

“Hello. What’s the problem miss?”

“Yes. My name’s Marinette. I’m the new PA to Mr. Drake. When I returned from break some boy attacked me with a ninajto. I managed to knock him out, but I would appreciate if someone came here to…” She didn’t get to finish because a burst of loud laughter came from the other side. She stayed silent for a few moments, baffled at the reaction. Finally, she had enough. “Good to know the fact that someone almost chopped me with a Ninjato is funny to you, sir, but personally I do not find the situation laughable and I would appreciate if you showed at least some concern over the terrible breach of security that is firstly bringing the sword to the building and secondly trying to kill an employee!” She screamed loud enough to make her cup of (now cold) coffee shake. Only now she realized that her hands were trembling.

“Um… of course, madame. I will be sending someone up right away… madame.” He hanged up. She still heard that he was on the verge of laughing.

Mari collapse into her chair and stared angrily at the boy on the floor. She was afraid to walk to him. She was definitely getting some plants here tomorrow. That would make her feel safer. Nervously, she started to design. She didn’t even notice that she was using the boy that attacked her as the base.

After a few minutes, the doors of the elevator opened and two guys in suits walked in. As soon as they saw the unconscious boy they broke into a fit of laugher. Mari stared at them before recognizing one of them as Grayson, who was giving them the tour earlier.

“Oh! My! God! She actually knocked Demon Spawn unconscious!” The other one said through tears. Mari decided she didn’t like him either. They were supposed to be helping her, not laughing more.

“Excusez-Moi! I was attacked here! During the tour, I was led to believe this is a respected company,” she made a jab at Grayson, who only laughed more. “In respected companies employees are not attacked with a sword when they come back from the break. So can someone explain to me what the actual fuck?!” She swore.

“This is gold. I’m calling B. Wait! I need a picture or he won’t believe me!” The not-Grayson kept rambling, completely ignoring Mari. Angry, she picked a pencil from her desk. Taking a few seconds to aim, she threw it. The impromptu projectile sailed through the air until it hit the elevator button, making the doors open. This finally got their attention, especially since the pencil passed not-Grayson by an inch from his ear.

“What the…?” He was interrupted when the girl stormed past him and entered the elevator. She was now holding the ninjato through a tissue. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To HR. Maybe they will help me.” She answered simply and sent them a glare. “It’s clear that you two dumbasses aren’t doing anything.”

Grayson held the button, stopping the doors from closing “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be French?” Dick asked, confused by her strong Gothamite accent that showed itself.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping?!” She shouted at him.

“Ugh… My head…” A groan came from the floor.

“Aww… I didn’t get any pictures.” Not-Grayson grumbled.

“Tt. Shut up, Todd.”

“How is the view from down there Demon Spawn?”

“I don’t have time for games. There’s some intruder on this floor. She claimed to be Drake’s personal Assistant, but we all met Sarah.”

“Um… Baby D, did no one inform you about the french class coming for an internship starting today?”

There was suddenly a glimmer of realization in the boy’s eyes. “Oh…”

“Oh?” Mari screamed. “that’s all you have to say?!”

Her would-be attacker jumped at the sound of her angry voice. When their eyes met, the two had a staring contest. It continued for a moment, neither wanting to leave it be. Dick and Jason observed with amazement how that little girl was able to rival Damian’s glare and not wither immediately as most would.

“While I enjoy seeing the two of you fight for dominance, can someone explain to me what exactly happened?” Todd finally broke the silence. Mari immediately turned her eyes at him. He briefly noted that her blue eyes had a green tint in them that he did not notice before.

“What happened is like I said. I after I returned from break that imbécile attacked me with the sword. I had some self-defense classes, so I managed to disarm him.”

“Some? You had ‘some’ self-defense classes and you disarmed Demons Spawn?”

“Okay, I’ve been practicing since I was five. Happy? It doesn’t change the fact that he attacked me!”

“You’re the one that attacked me. I was merely ensuring you were no threat.” Damian tried to argue.

“By pressing a sword to my neck?” She asked/shouted. “Please! This is Gotham.”

“She has a point.” Dick decided to intervene. “Okay. We will make sure that Damian won’t bother you anymore… and maybe add some bonus to your next paycheck for the trouble he caused. Our father will definitely hear about this.”

“Your father…?”

“Bruce Wayne.”

“Oh… Fine. But I’ll be keeping the ninjato for now.” She said in no-arguing tone. It was clear that Damian wanted to argue, but his brothers pushed him into the elevator while Mari walked to her desk. She put the sword under the desk and mentally added some hooks to her shopping list. If that rich idiot thought he would get away with attacking her with a sword, he was sorely mistaken.

The tablet turned out to have a complete calendar with all planned meetings, a ready to-do list, and access to inter-department chatrooms. There were more apps that she decided to look up later. For now, she opened Mr. Drake’s schedule. He had quite a lot of office hours, but she also noticed that there was a press conference set on Friday, several meetings throughout the week, and a few other stuff. Definitely much cleaner than Adrien’s schedule that she already knew by heart.

As the hour was mostly up, she knocked on the office doors to see if her boss needed something done. He shouted a barely-audible ‘busy’ and she did not try to intrude. Probably some important stuff. She pulled her phone and called Nathalie’s number that Adrien sent her earlier.

“Hello, Marinette.” The woman greeted her.

The next several hours were spent on the crash course about everything that being Personal Assistant boiled down to. Ethel was right. Her work as Class Rep, babysitter, and the business owner gave her quite a few necessary skills. What nobody mentioned (because nobody knew) was that her obsessive Adrien stalking also came in very handy. Most of what she practiced with Nathalie was about dealing with people and applying her skills in the new job. By the time her work was ‘over’, she had a bit more confidence. Mari was still panicked over the amount of responsibility that befallen her and the additional work and reading that she would have to do after hours. It was a pure blessing that this day was empty. Nathalie also gave her an incredible amount of pointers about how to deal with situations when the Boss is absent most of the day. She could guess that Gabriel kept dumping more work on the poor woman as he locked himself away to design. The last thing before she entered the elevator was to pull out the drawers in her desk and hide the ninjato behind them. It fit perfectly and the drawers didn’t seem that out of place. She suspected the boy would try to take it back when she was gone.

As she was leaving the elevator to meet with her class, she spotted Chloe talking lively with Ethel. Madame Bustier came through the main entrance. Once the class gathered in one place, she gave some speech about how proud she was of them and thanked Lila for the opportunity. Mari used that time to check on the class. Some looked quite happy, others had sour moods. Adrian managed to sneak away from Lila and was hiding behind the girls.

Just as they turned to leave, the front doors burst open and several guys (and one woman) in green suits with purple question marks walked inside, followed by a man in a similar suit. He carried a cane with a question mark on top and a green bowler hat with a single question mark in the center. Mari resisted the urge to gag. The fashion disaster that was Riddler entered the house. Seriously! Who mixes deep green with neon purple? And not to even mention the Hawaiian shirt she could spot under his suit. Whoever dressed that guy deserved to be shot. And it had to be a custom job, because what store would dare to sell such monstrosity!? She also noted that people got on the ground so she did the same. Her senses tried to reach to nearest plants for some comfort, but all of them were fake. Why does no one keep real plants in this building? Then again, Mr. Drake had and they were almost dead.

“Well, hello Wayne Enterprises!” He greeted them. “Riddle me this: It belongs to you, but other people use it more than you do. What is it?”

“Name,” they heard a voice say from the back.

“Yes.” Riddler seethed. “And I really don’t like it when someone uses mine in their ridiculous stories. Now, which of you can tell me where I can find Lila Rossi?

#maribat au #maribat #Mother!Ivy #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #batman #dc #MLB

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lisinfleur · 4 years ago

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Santa’s Roots

The request:

Author’s Notes | Some historians claim that Santa Claus’ figure was inspired by Odin. What if it was true? For a certain Modern Viking, it is! Inspired by Harbard’s interaction with young Ivar in the series. I hope you’ll like it! Universe |��Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Modern AU, made for Patron’s Holiday Event Words | 1092 ⁑ Warnings: Religious re-readings, unconfirmed comparisons, and sources.

"Why do we have to make this stupid trip?"

Of course, he was annoyed. Even more, because he was planning a trip with Y/N to spend the Christian Christmas in a tropical country enjoying the heat; and now he was forced to drag his limp pained leg through the snow of the Santa Claus Village in Rovaniemi.

Yeah. Lapland.

In the fucking FREEZING FINLAND!

"It's Yule and Christmas and no matter how you look at it, Ivar, it's a family holiday and we'll spend it together."

He loved his beautiful mother, but sometimes that need she had for them to be all together all the time was suffocating. After growing older, he was starting to understand his father's constant trips and to wish Aslaug would do something like fulfilling Sigurd's emptiness and his lack of motherly attention.

But this time, not even Sigurd had escaped that torture. And for the first time, they were both grumpy and moody at the same time.

At least, Y/N had come with him. Sigurd's girl was waiting for him with her family at the beach they had planned to go to together and that trip had forced him to delay. Ubbe as well was grumpy: dating Björn's ex-wife, he saw his hopes to send Torvi's children with Björn that year going down the drain. After all, what kid would want to exchange Santa Claus' village for a trip to the boring Mediterranean with daddy's brand-new chick?

Hvitserk was the only one having fun along with Y/N and the children - the bastard was finding every source of food, candies, and delights through their ways, putting so many smiles on Y/N's face that Ivar was asking all the gods to get his brother fat at the end of that cursed trip. Or at least some good, long and intense diarrhea, so he would have something to laugh at in the middle of all that red, black, gold, and white mess.

"Sorry!" A gods damn dwarf?

Gnome?

Grinch... No. Elf! A gods damn elf stumbled on his crutch, almost taking Ivar's balance, forcing him to stop his already slow steps to straighten the damn titanium braces under the trousers with a loud grunt of anger.

Because of course, his day wasn't doomed enough. No. The pain of that cold shitty place wasn't enough. Nor the elves everywhere, nor the repetitive music, nor the children's noises, fake gift boxes, bells... Not even the irritant bells weren't enough! Someone had to fucking misplace his braces to get him left behind by his whole family...

Kinda his fault: Ivar had walked slower than them all the whole time, trying to get himself distant and leave clear he wasn't happy. Even Y/N had started walking with Hvitserk since his mood was so terrible that not even her was able to hold it this time. He couldn't blame them for avoiding his presence enough not to notice he had to stop...

But where were they after all?

They wouldn't just disappear like that in a matter of minutes.

Ivar had just lowered himself for a moment to straighten the braces... How come they had managed to disappear in the middle of that fucking colored place?

For a moment, Ivar's heart filled with a cold sensation that spread all over this spine. He searched his pockets. Of course, his cellphone hadn't a single bar of signal in that place. His blues ran around searching for his brothers, the noisy children, his mom, Y/N.

And then it was when he realized...

There was no one to be seen.

The noisy children had gone. The elves were gone... Everything was, all of a sudden, silent, except for those bells.

With his crutch, Ivar walked around some steps, trying not to get lost in whatever the fuck was happening around him. But with a few steps forward, as if everything wasn't strange enough, a thick fog started to move around his legs, covering the place, flying ghostly through the gift boxes and colored trees.

Ivar felt the urge to get the heck out of that place. With some effort, he started walking at a quicker pace not observing when the decorations around him started changing from the usual plastic balls and ribbons to colored flowers, painted pine cones, straw animals... His eyes betrayed him, but his ears weren't failing: the bells were becoming higher. And higher...

"I don't know what kind of stupid prank is this! But I don't like it! I didn't pay for this package! I want this to stop right now!" he yelled.

Just to almost lose his balance once again when a horse exhaled behind his back, forcing him to turn around in a quick movement that cost him a grunt of pain, bending Ivar's body over itself when his hand touched the knee of his right leg. The braces had made a loud sound indicating it was a forced movement and now his knee was horribly aching once again.

However, the pain was something usual for him. Unusual was to see Santa Claus not dressed in the traditional red clothes... Unusual was to watch the old man coming down from a horse... Wait. How many legs did that fucking horse have?

And how the fuck did he have a horse? Shouldn't it be reindeers?

And a sled?

"What in..." Ivar started, swallowing dry and lifting his face to see the man in front of him was smiling.

A visible and open smile in the middle of the big and voluminous white beard covering his jaw and cascading down to his belly.

"Hello, Ivar," the man said with a surprisingly cozy voice, causing Ivar's face to twist in a frown of pure surprise, full of wrinkles on his forehead that earned one of the usual laughs from the white-bearded man.

"What the heck?" Ivar said, straightening himself even with pain on his leg. "Who told you my name? And why the fuck are we alone in this place?"

The man continued calm and smiley despite Ivar's clear annoyance.

"I know many names, boy. And I know you, since you were, in fact, a boy," the man said, looking down to Ivar's legs. "They still ache a lot, I can see."

Ivar's frown gained two more wrinkles on his forehead.

"What? Where do you know me? Who are you, man?" he asked, fully annoyed by what he was sure was a ridiculous prank his mother had paid for him to fall on, in the hope he would, somehow, like that trip into the middle of the freezing nowhere.

But the man just laughed once again, touching Ivar with a gentle pat that soon became a heavy hand weighing on Ivar's shoulder, forcing his whole attention to detail he wasn't able to notice before but now was clear like crystal in front of his eyes.

That man... That strange Santa Claus...

He clearly didn't have one of his eyes.

Ivar's blues were somehow attracted into the emptiness of that missing eye. And he swore he could hear the bells stopping, and crows cawing. The fog became stronger, but Ivar couldn't stop looking at that empty hole on that man's face until something formed into the dark.

Something that made Ivar's blues large when the voice of that man sounded once again, rumbling into Ivar's chest like a clap of thunder.

"I know everyone that was and everyone that will be. I'm the one who was and remains. And after you're gone, I'll still be here, until the wolf comes to swallow me whole. But before you go, I can still grant you a gift, son. Let us say you were good this year," the old man joked.

His words filling Ivar's ears while his eyes were locked at the image into that man's empty eye-hole.

"Yggdrasil..." Ivar mumbled.

And his eyes blinked, seeing the whole man once again in front of him, smiling.

"Odin?" he asked.

Receiving nothing but a new pat on his shoulder and once again, the traditional giggle that came along the whole noisy environment around, all at once invading Ivar's ears like a wave of noise and mess once again.

"Ho ho ho... Merry Christmas!"

Standing in front of him was nothing but an actor, fully dressed like the old Santa. Nothing different from the usual along with the fake gift boxes and all the rest Ivar could see when he turned his head, confused, searching for that whole illusion he was thrown into one second ago.

Was that a delirium? Was that somehow real?

"What's wrong, Ivar?" Y/N's voice woke him up and called his attention causing Ivar to once again turn himself too quick to look at her.

Another clang from his braces. Ivar waited for the wave of pain...

But it never came.

"Are your legs ok? Are you in pain, love?" she asked, fully worried.

But Ivar looked shocked down to his legs, feeling nothing. Absolutely no pain. Like one of his best-bones' days...

The days he used to say were gifts from the gods into his life.

"I... I... I think I... I'm fine I just... For a moment..." Ivar gasped with the words.

His eyes were still searching around for that image so vivid of Odin he had seen. He was sure he had seen! It was real!

And he took his pain away for a day...

"You see? The cold is starting to freeze Ivar's brain! Can we go home or at least somewhere warm now?" Sigurd complained.

The kids coming closer to Ubbe with their hands full of candy canes from Hvitserk's bag.

Everyone was so close... They didn't have disappeared.

But Ivar was sure he was the only one who saw that man.

"Are you ok, Ivar?" Y/N asked again and Ivar finally focused his eyes on her.

"I am. I'm just... I think I just need some warm chocolate and we can stay a little longer... For the kids, I mean."

"What?" Sigurd complained immediately. "See? Frozen brains!" he said, pointing Ivar's head.

But Ivar just approached Y/N's, speaking low, almost like a secret.

"Do you believe this thing about... Santa and Odin... Being the same person and stuff?" he asked, causing Y/N to smile.

"Oh, this is why you're so bothered, isn't it? Babe, don't be like this, uh? Some historians say that our Santa is somehow inspired by Odin with his eight-legged horse, granting gifts to his followers and knowing who was acting bad or good along his way. If it makes you feel more comfortable then think about this place as Odin's village!" she joked.

Getting a small curve from Ivar's lips.

"Come, let's get you that hot chocolate, uh?" she said, enlacing his arm with her own and starting to walk at his pace towards the coffee shop Hvitserk was already entering for what? The third time?

Ivar's eyes looked back at that man dressed as Santa Claus, complimenting everyone. His steps showing him his legs weren't aching at all anymore. Whoever it was, Santa Claus, Odin... It had really granted him a gift for that day.

The Santa turned looking at him once again.

And Ivar could swear that one-eyed man winked at him before it was nothing but the actor once again.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" the man yelled.

Santa Claus' Village... Odin's place... It wasn't that bad to make that trip after all.

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Tagged ones:

|| @bluearchersstuff || @ivarswickedqueen || @akamaiden || @bang-kim-bap || @cris101071 || @elysias-temple || @alicedopey || @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla || @lol-haha-joke || @readsalot73 || @rekdreams247 || @naaladareia || @laketaj24 || @therealcalicali || @grungyblonde || @arses21434 || @honestsycrets || @2thequietone4 || @blackspiritshake || @vikingsbifrost || @wallabieswisher || @cyarikashakira || @chinduda || @isthat-tyra98 || @xinyourdreamsx || @thiahilmarsdottir || @queenbeeta || @winchesterwife27 || @gold-dragon-slayer || @mzliterarydreamer || @youbloodymadgenius || @marvelouuse || @tgrrose || @lif3snotouttogetyou || @lordsexmachine || @deathbyarabbit || @ietss || @thorins-queen-of-erebor || @didiintheblog || @h-e-a-v-y-l-e-a-t-h-e-r || @heavenly1927 || @alexhandersenx || @alexisshoto || @letsloveimagines || @astrape-the-weatherwitch || @destynelseclipsa || @charming-merlin || @violetidk ||

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#history vikings #imagine vikings #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar’s heathen army #sister wives #shot

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jay-and-dean · 4 years ago

Text

Firefly Chapter 7 : Eighteen and twenty-eight years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary : 40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 4330

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Firefly Chapter 3

Firefly Chapter 4

Firefly Chapter 5

Firefly Chapter 6

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

——————————————————————————

She wasn’t moving at all. Sitting on the bench in the middle of this ocean of life, she watched people walk by. The sun had gone down now, after moving from building to building, making giant shadows change the whole city constantly.

She was overwhelmed, unable to move at all. Her eyes were drinking the world like new born baby’s ones. None of her muscles moved for hours, her fists clinging at her dress, her heart bleeding in silence for Dean.

A few people stopped to ask her if she was okay, but she couldn’t answer, her voice locked in her lungs…

But she finally got up.

After days of hiding in alleys, and walking on boulevards, escaping weird men yelling at her in the dark of night… It started to rain. A heavy, pouring storm rain that made her dress heavy and washed the dust out of her. And that warm loud summer rain somehow woke her from her torpor.

She had to live, and learn everything about life because that’s what Dean wanted for her… But Dean wasn’t here, and he will never be. So she came back to that bench, soaked and shaking, and started to cry for him. She had to be happy for the man she loved, and couldn’t without him…

Her tears only calmed with the rain that day. And even when her eyes stopped crying, her heart never stopped weeping for Dean a single second.

Not when she got up from that bench to find a map of the city on the subway station, not when she found clothes, and ripped that stupid dress of her body… It was still weeping when she first found people in the street and asked her where to find food. It was screaming inside her during her first night in a foster home for homeless people… When she fought for the first time to escape men again.

Her heart was weeping for Dean the first time she laughed, seeing cartoons in a TV store front, when she found out about drugs and abuse, cheating, wealth... when she started to be hungry, when she fell of exhaustion in an alley…

And even if her eyes stayed dry, her soul kept crying when the demons attacked.

Lilith had sent them after her as soon as the Queen noticed Y/n was no longer in Hell. She was hiding in an abandoned building when dozens of demons attacked her, she fought with teeth and nails to get them off and she won, but that wasn’t the end… Lilith kept sending more minions and, exhausted but determined to live, Y/n had only one option left.

She faked her own death. With the help of her powers and some research in the nearby library and in the maze of knowledge she had memorized over the years, she tricked the demons into believing she was dead, and used a certain pattern of sigils to hide herself, cloaked from every supernatural being.

Finally she was free.

So things went easier. After a little while, she met her own little angel : Sue. An older lady who offered Y/n shelter when she caught her dumpster diving her diner. Sue found Y/n a little odd at first, everyone thought that of her, but just as with every person Y/n had met on her way, Sue liked the happy girl she always seemed to be, enthusiastic about the very simpler things ; so she offered Y/n a job as a waitress in her diner.

_____________

Y/n’s window was rolled down as the loud music blasted through the speakers of her raven black 1967 Ford Mustang as she drove to work, still the same job at Sue’s diner. And she was smiling wide on her way, because she loved every single thing about this job.

She parked her car in the lot and made her way inside to take her light blue apron.

“Morning Y/n! How are you doing today sweetie ?” Sue asked.

“You know, same old same old.” Y/N shrugged.

Tying her apron on her, Y/n smiled kindly. She looked so different from what Dean had known, and hopefully different enough so no demon passing by ever recognized her. Her hair was tied together and no longer falling on a waterfall in her back. No more fancy dresses but only jeans and all the t-shirts she liked, with rock bands on it, or her favorite movies posters...

Sue sighed and put her hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Are you still working on freeing Prince Charming ?” she asked Y/n with an apologetic smile.

“Yes, I promised I would get him out and I won’t stop until he is” she said determinedly.

When Sue had just found Y/n she kindly offered her to stay at her house until she could get on her own feet. Y/n dreamed a lot about Dean, some dreams worse than the others, so after the third night of her guest screaming Dean’s name, Sue had asked her who he was. Y/n couldn’t tell her everything so she said he was the love of her life and was wrongly imprisoned, and that she had promised to get him out.

“He’s a very lucky guy to have you, Y/n” Sue told her.

“Yeah, I just… I miss him so much…” Y/n said as she made the last knot on her apron.

“I know sweetie, but if you truly love him, he’ll come back, just wait and see” she smiled with that protective expression she always had when it came to her protégée, even if she seemed sometimes perplexed about all those stories she told.

She gave her her note book to write down the orders.

“Yeah I hope so” Y/n clicked on her pen and made her way into the diner to take up the orders of all the customers.

It was a quiet day, she loved this little diner, the food was amazing and it even had a little jukebox she often used. It had given her a shelter, money to live, but also an identity and friends. A life.

Her smile faded like it did sometimes, Dean would have loved this diner too… She thought back to all the things she discovered on Earth.

She did everything Dean had told her about : She went to the movie theater, she learned how to drive (thanks to Sue), she had a date or four, went to a party, she got drunk a few times. She danced alone and with others, kissed a girl and travelled a little. Her appetite for life was never ending, so she had driven to the ocean and dived, she had smoked weird things once and ran in the forest, she had woke in the middle of the night to go buy ice-cream, she had sang in the shower and stayed home for an entire weekend crying while watching bad tv shows… And she even lost her virginity to a sweet boy. But nothing could get her mind off Dean, calm her weeping heart or divert her from her goal.

Every night she looked up at the stars and imagined him by her side, she could use her power to create an image of him that existed out of a million little stars, well more like a million little fireflies.

A lot of time had passed since she last saw him, her heart broke at the thought of him down there for so long. He must have forgotten her by now, if his soul even survived those many years.

A throat being cleared pulled her from her daydreaming. She turned to find a man smiling at her.

“Oh my apologies, what can I get you, sir ?” she asked the man, there was something unpleasant about him, he had dirty blonde hair and she didn’t like the way his blue eyes were traveling her up and down.

“Are you on the menu ?” he asked her with a sly smile.

Y/n sighed deep, why were a lot of men on Earth such… pigs ?

“No sorry, I was just joking” the man began. “I’ll take a coffee with some pancakes.”

Y/n wrote his order down and left with a forced smile.

He was the only customer today so Y/n handed the paper to Sue so she could make it and sat down at the little bar. She was watching the man in the mirror that hung on the other side of the counter. She couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she got from the man, he looked normal, but she could feel something… something powerful radiating off him.

The bell pulled Y/n out of her haze as she took the coffee and pancake to the man.

“Here you go sir, enjoy your meal” Y/n said as she dropped the food at his table.

“Thank you.”

She was starting to leave when his voice stopped her.

“Can I ask you a question, miss ?” he asked as he took a bite from the pancake.

“Yeah, of course” Y/n shrugged.

“You haven’t been here for long have you ?” he said as he looked at her.

“Uhm no, not very long. Are you from around here ?” Y/n asked, he was just a normal guy, it was impossible for anyone to find her anyway.

“Oh no not at all. But i didn’t mean this diner...” he kept on eating nonchalantly, he swallowed. “I meant Earth.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide, she turned and ran towards the exit only to bump into the man who was just sitting at the table behind her half a second ago.

“Who are you” Y/n asked as she stepped back from him

A deep sigh left his mouth.

“It hurts me that you even have to ask that, Y/n” he blinked and his irises turned to a fiery red.

Y/n ran towards the kitchen to get Sue. She pulled open the door and shrieked as her dear friend fell on her with her eyes burned out.

Dead.

“No ! Sue !” Y/n started shaking, cupping her friend’s face. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER ?” Y/n screamed to the man walking in casually.

“She put too much milk in my coffee, so I ended her” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Y/n stood up, her eyes a flare as she widened her arms to unleash her powers. Two fiery tentacles wrapped around the man’s legs.

“You’ll regret this” she said, her voice sounding like a thousand people at once.

The man gave her a sly smirk and snapped his fingers, her powers stopped immediately. She thrusted her hands forward to him, but nothing happened. Fear shone in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief.

“It’s time we should head home, Y/n” he stepped closer to her, his fingers tilting up her chin.

“We have a family to start” he whispered against her lips with a dark chuckle.

“L-Lucifer” she gasped.

His arms wrapped tight around her and before she could blink she was back in Hell.

The suffocating smell of sulfur and blood made her cough, her whole body started to shake as she started to desperately gasp for air, her lungs crushed by the most powerful anxiety she ever felt. Her arms reached to her enemy in a pleading scratch, like he was strangling her…

“Home sweet home, baby” he cruelly cooed in her ear, his breath heavy on her skin.

She pried her arms between them to push out of his embrace. He chuckled as he let her go and she fell backwards, scrambling away from him.

“Stay away from me!” she finally managed to yell at him, her eyes flaring back to life as she was losing control over her powers.

He tilted his head at her as he watched her, his steps following her every move.

“You are such a pretty thing, I see some potential too. But I was told you were,” he hummed in thought “a pain in the ass. And I’m starting to see why.”

Her eyes were scanning everything, the bloody walls, the frozen air all around her, the never ending screams, the smell of fear and fire.

No she couldn’t be back in Hell…

With a turn of his wrist she was lifted up in the air, she tried to fight his power, but he was too strong… She couldn’t take on the Lord of Hell…

“Y/n, I’m only going to tell you that only once : You will obey and be helpful” he said with every step until he stood nose to nose with her, his eyes drinking her in.

She gave him a sweet smile before she spat in his face.

“Never” she told him.

His hand came up to wipe her spit away, he licked his hand clean, humming at her taste.

“As you wish, Y/n. Then my little slave needs chains...” he sneered.

Iron ropes wrapped around her as soon as the word left his lips, they burned into her flesh making her scream in pain. She fell heavy to the ground at his feet.

“For eternity” he finished as he sat down on his throne.

“No p-please, no chains… everything but chains” she begged him.

“Oh no baby, I know what you used to do when you’re set loose, but forget about that, he isn’t here anyway, no reason to go wandering. Jeal told me all about you and your little lover.” he said as he crossed his legs over each other.

“H-he isn’t ? H-How” she asked, suddenly able to ignore the pain of the iron digging in her flesh.

How was that possible ?

“He got out, Heaven’s plans. Now stop asking or I’ll gag you too” he sighed, looking at her. “I’ll make you your own little cage, like they did for me. No way you’ll get away from this one. And don’t think your daddy will help, he still thinks you’re dead. Everyone does.”

She whimpered in silence, only one thought on her mind. He was free…

Dean Winchester was alive.

________________________

Dean’s Pov

Dean woke up in a little painful whine, he opened his eyes and wiped the sweat off his face and neck, watching the ceiling, trying to focus on the contour of his body, the sheets and the pillow. He took a deep breath to calm his heaving chest.

Another nightmare.

And this one wasn’t the violent surviving of Purgatory, it wasn’t the burning guilt of old fights with John, the crushing pain of seeing Sam die ; it wasn’t the despair of losing Mary again, the disturbing memories of being a demon… It was the worst : Hell.

And among the worst, the tortures and the screams, tonight’s nightmare had to be about the cruellest idea demons ever came up with : fake hope.

In his dream, he was laying on the floor of his cell, barely able to breath because of the blood drowning his lungs, and he felt her hand, her tiny soft fingers wrapped around his wrist to ease his panic. She whispered sweet things to him but when he lifted his eyes to see her face, only Alastair was there, laughing loud and sharpening knives.

Dean stretched and shook his head, like he could get rid of those memories like that. He couldn’t let nightmares get to him, and he couldn’t let his past crush him.

With his guts still aching from the dream, he forced himself to get up. Staying in bed only made the memories clearer, and the trauma cut deeper. He knew only another hunt could ease the pain.

Maybe, just maybe, if he saved enough people, he would finally expiate.

The bunker was silent, even Sam was still sleeping so early in the morning. Walking to the kitchen, he frowned : His knee was still hurting and the bruises on his face and collarbones too.

Damn demon.

He turned to enter the kitchen and jumped a little.

“Hi Dean, sorry I scared you” Jack said, looking up from his bowl of cereal, his big eyes going to the hunter’s wounds quickly. “How are you ?”

“I’m fine. What are you doing up so early ?” Dean grunted, going straight to the coffee in his long grey robe.

“I have trouble sleeping lately” the boy answered, frowning in confusion like he often did.

“Try whiskey” Dean muttered low in a sleepy grunt.

“Alcohol is really not a solution to my problem I think” Jack turned to him, even more confused.

“I was kidding” he sighed, sitting in front of the young boy.

Sometimes Jack really was Castiel’s son…

The hunter scratched his scruff and took the cereal to plunge his hand in the box, eating some while reading the joke behind it.

“I hear a voice in my head” Jack sighed.

Dean looked up, ready to make a mocking joke but he noticed a genuine worry on the boy’s face.

“A voice ?”

“Yes” Jack searched Dean’s face. “At first I thought maybe I overheard something on the angel radio, but… It seems different.”

“What does it say ?”

“I don’t really understand it” Jack shrugged.

“Understand what ?” Sam asked, scratching his head while entering the room with his hair in every direction and the left side of his face still swollen and bruised. “Wow, everyone is up early this morning ! What am I missing ?”

“Jack says he hears a voice” Dean repeated, getting up to get coffee now it was ready. “But he doesn’t know where it comes from or what it says” he groaned slightly.

Please don’t let that be bad news again…

Dean sat heavily, rubbing his tired eyes while his brother interrogated Jack. How long had he been hearing the voices, were there several, was it constant… The boy only had a very few answers.

“We need to find where it comes from, Dean” Sam states, making his brother grunt again in his coffee mug.

That didn’t sound like a good old fight and kill hunt, it sounded like trouble.

_____________________

Dean pushed the heavy metal door and went down the stairs, overhearing his brother, Jack and Castiel talking in the library.

Reaching them, he almost threw the bag on the wooden table, not daring to ask any question seeing the three too serious faces looking at him.

“I guess no good news” he mumbled deep in his throat looking down to grab a beer from the bag.

“Dean” Castiel started with his worried voice, making the hunter look instantly slightly annoyed. “The voice comes from Hell.”

“Hell” Dean repeated casually, taking a sip of beer to wash the word from his mouth. “There are a lot of voices in Hell, it’s pretty loud down there.”

When his eyes fell on Sam, a shiver roamed his back. He had the face, Dean hated that face, the “you’re not going to like it” face. So he put his beer down on the table and sighed.

“What is it ?” he finally asked.

“The voice, Dean” Jack said. “It’s calling you.”

“Me” Dean’s eyes widened. “There can be another dude named Dean in Hell !”

“Dean…” Sam sighed. “Who could be calling you ?”

Dean’s first thought went to Bobby. They had freed him from Hell a few years ago, he was supposed to be in Heaven, and Crowley had decided differently… Maybe someone they lost ? An innocent locked in Hell by mistake ? But Rowena was on the throne now… Would she do that ?

“How can you hear a voice coming from Hell ?” he shook his head. “Do you hear them all ?”

“No” Jack said. “Only this one.”

Dean sat and took a deep breath, realizing this would mean that he would have to visit Hell... again. After those break in, the nightmares were always worse, and last time he had to deal with a panic attack in the shower.

“Okay” he stated. “What is the plan ? And how do we know it’s not a trap ?”

_____________________

“So your plan…” Rowena frowned from her throne, her long dress nonchalantly falling on the floor. “Is letting the boy follow a voice like a dog on a leash ?”

Dean’s face was stern, his arms tense, his heart a little compressed in his chest.

Each time he smelled that horrible sulfur mixed with blood smell, it was like he could feel the chains and the needles and hear Alastair’s voice all over again. Then he had two choices in his mind : Either he accepted it, and stayed with the demon’s croaky voice in his head for days, or focused on what had made him hold on for years back then : the secret girl’s soft touches ; but then the fear was replaced by the crushing feeling of despair and sadness, at knowing he had been fooled that bad, into believing innocence exited.

“More or less” his brother answered. “Rowena, you have to admit it’s something new… And if there are leaks in Hell…”

“Yeah yeah…” the witch sighed. “But don’t come crying when your little baby angel comes back traumatized. This is not a place for kids.”

Oh the irony.

“It’s not there” Jack cut them with a frown, looking around.

“What do you mean it’s not there ?” Dean grunted. “You were sure it came from Hell !”

“It does…” the boy stated. “Just deeper.”

“Deeper ?” Sam shook his head, but turned to Rowena, immediately trusting Jack as always. “Is there a basement in Hell ?”

“A basement ? Hell is a multi-dimensional…”

“Answer him” Dean cut her, losing patience.

Rowena got up and demons entered the room. She gave orders about getting the records, about the cage, and all. After a few very long minutes, a demon in an old man vessel came closer to the Queen, whispering something in her ear.

“Oh really ?” Rowena said. “Why am I not aware of all this ?”

“Because they’re all empty, your Majesty” the demon shrugged.

“What is ?” Sam insisted with a flustered move of his hands.

Rowena sat again.

“There are cages, like the one that held Lucifer once. Smaller ones, but for all we know, they are all empty.”

“For all you know ?” Dean raised his voice a little.

“No one uses them” Rowena shrugged.

“They held an angel during the war between Heaven and Hell” the demon spoke, his voice shaking a little, obviously uneasy in front of the Winchesters. “I-in the dawn of time, but the angel was killed by Lucifer before Michael locked him in the cage… We kinda forgot where they were.”

“Take us to them” Jack ordered Rowena with this frown of his.

Rowena looked to the demon that didn’t move, his eyes on Dean, like the hunter could suddenly decide to kill all of them.

“Merihem, take us to those cages” Rowena called him. “Chop chop.”

____________________

The light of Hell’s fire didn’t reach that deep in the pit, like the sun in the deepest ocean.

Dean was holding the torch like it was his lifeline in this vertiginous nightmare of deafening silence. Everything was threateningly pitch black, a perfect representation of the fear of dark, a big cold lonely nothingness… With stairs in the middle.

“I didn’t know there was anything deeper than Lucifer’s cage” the Queen’s voice echoed weirdly in the void.

Suddenly, the stairs stopped and Dean banged into metal bars. He lifted his torch to see what was behind it, but the cage was empty.

“It’s here” Jack whispered. “I can feel it.”

Sam opened the empty cage, his arm hair ruffling at the touch of the same metal that held his soul for so long.

“Nothing” he said, holding back his own trauma probably as hard as Dean did.

“Dean…” a weak voice made them all jump, coming from the dark.

“Who is this ?” the hunter grunted, taking a few unsure steps to the next cage, firmly holding his torch in front of him with an almost trembling arm.

“Dean…” the voice now whined.

Sam put his hand on his brother’s shoulder to make him wait for him. They looked at each other, using silent words and joining their flames to fight the pitch black ahead of them.

Even used to all kinds of nightmares, Dean wasn’t so reassured in the deepest of Hell, called by a weak and plaintive voice coming from the darkest of darks.

Something moved in the cage in a deafening metal noise, a shadow fleeing the light. The brothers both let out a shaky breath, moving closer with the demon and Rowena way behind them.

Dean swallowed, finally distinguishing a body, hunched in the opposite corner of the cage, shaking. Extremely long hair was falling around the pitiful form, chained heavily even inside the cage.

“Who are you ?” he asked again. “You’re calling me, why ?”

No answer.

“Who is this ?” Sam turned to the demon that had guided them.

“I-I have no idea” it answered. “No one came here in years !”

“Dean ?” the voice seemed to struggle thinking straight.

“Jeez” Sam muttered. “For how long has she been there ?”

She ? Dean thought, realizing now it was indeed a woman, her thin delicate hands were clinging to the floor.

His heart was racing in his chest, from being in Hell, from the fear of what he would find, and from something else, something confusing, like an emotion flying in the air around him.

The girl finally lifted her face to them, teary eyes frowned at the light of the flame, her shaking hand open in front of her to soften the burning of the torch.

Dean felt hit violently in the chest, his breathing stopped in a strangled gasp as everything he certainly knew started to crumble in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out… After swallowing twice, he finally managed to speak.

“Firefly ?”

Next Chapter on @roonyxx‘s blog

________________________

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ottosuricatoblog · 4 years ago

Text

"By your side."

@everyhowlmarksthedead asked: QUE DICES HERMANAAAAAAAAAA ✨😎 I was thinking about reader having some kind of accident and Chibs telling him about his feelings in the hospital, like jeez you were about to die, I can't hold it anymoreeeeeeeee. Y eso. Llevo pensando en esta idea varios días y quien mejor que tú pa escribir un poquito de angst y fluffy. You decide if reader feels something for him or it's like ‘kthanksbye I'm gonna lock you again in the friendzone”. ✨❤😂

@the-sons-raven asked: You are amazing! Can u make an imagine with number 36 & 58?

Prompts:

36: “Shit, are you bleeding?”

58: “It’s cold, hold me”.

Author: soooo I'm back from vacation. I'm starting uni on Monday but I'm gonna try and make time to write so no worries. Anyway, I mixed this requests and wrote a longer fic. Just wanted to let you know that I'm not a medical expert, so I'm sorry for the possible mistakes or contradictions. Love always💖

Words: 1100

Warnings: car accident, hospital, language.

You work as a surgeon. As a neurosurgeon, to be precise. A few months ago, your colleague and friend Tara asked you to help her and her husband. You aren't an idiot, you know what Jax Teller and the Sons of Anarchy do. However, Tara insisted she needed the best, and that was you. She had done a couple favors for you, so you couldn't refuse.

From then on, you have been helping Tara with medical assistance for the Sons. You've started to get to know the guys, being particularly interested in the Scotsman. He's sweet and very attractive, but you're certain that he only spends time with you because you're a damn good surgeon and he's interested in medicine. Little did you know.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

You shouldn't drive when you're this tired. You know that. But calling someone to pick you up would just delay the time you get home. You just want to sleep.

When you're almost home, suddenly you see a car coming at you high-speed. You don't have time to react. You feel a hit on the car and you instantly pass out because of the impact.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

Chibs and his brothers are coming back to the garage after handling some business when they hear the ambulance sirens. Chibs looks at the car who had been hit, recognizing it right away.

"Fuck!" He shouts to his brothers. "That's Y/N's car!"

Chibs gets a lump in his throat. Something isn't right. He parks his bike and get off it, running towards the ambulance.

"Y/N!" He shouts, looking for you. "Is Y/N Y/L/N here?" He asks a doctor he finds.

"She's right there." The doctor points, running on the opposite direction to check on the other driver.

Chibs runs towards you. There you are, your face covered in blood. He's never felt so horrified in his life.

"Love." He says, his voice breaking.

"Traumatic brain injury!" The doctor beside you shouts. "She needs surgery ASAP."

You open your eyes slowly, feeling dizzy. You see someone standing next to you, his voice familiar.

"Filip?" You mumble, half unconscious.

"Aye, love. It's me." He whispers, taking your hand. "It's gonna be okay. I'm here."

"It's cold." You say. "It's cold, hold me."

He feels tears on his eyes and he holds you close. "It's okay." He mumbles.

"We need to take her to the hospital." The doctor says. "Are you family? You can come with us."

Chibs doesn't answer, he just gets in the ambulance. He won't leave your side.

The last thing you see before passing out again is the man you're in love with holding your hand, promising everything will be alright.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

You wake up in a room that isn't yours. You open your eyes slowly, confused. You see the white walls and remember right away. The accident. You had an accident. Your head hurts.

"Welcome back." Martha, the nurse says. You have been working with her for 10 years, and you know your in good hands.

"How are ya feeling?" She asks. "And before you ask me, surgery went perfectly. Dr. Higgins." She explains and you nod.

"Sore." You mumble. You examine the room and find your favorite Scotsman asleep on the chair right next to your bed, his hand on yours.

"He hasn't left your side." Martha explains, smiling.

The conversation wakes up Chibs, who opens his eyes to see you smiling at him.

"Lass!" He says. He leans to hug you, but he thinks better of it. He doesn't want to hurt you. Instead, he kisses your hand.

"I'm gonna check on other pacient and then I'll come back and change your bandage." She says. "Behave. I'll be back soon." She winks at you and leave the room.

"Does it hurt?" Chibs asks.

"It's not that bad." You answer with a smile.

He runs his hands through his hair. "I... I thought I was gonna lose ye." He says, his voice miserable. "I thought..."

You take his hand in yours again. "I'm here, Filip. I'm okay."

His eyes finally meet yours and he sighs. "I love ye." He starts and when you're gonna answer, he motions for you to stop. "I know it's not fair because ye're hurt and I shouldn't be saying this here, but I fucking love ye, Y/N. I'm so in love with ye. I had never been this scared in my life. I couldn't..." His voice breaks and you squeeze his hand.

"This is probably the worst place ever to do this." You laugh. "But I love you too, Filip. Have for a while, I just didn't think you feel the same."

"Ye fucking kidding? The boys have been picking on me for weeks. They say I'm too obvious. Not that I care." He laughs.

You laugh too. "Well..." You start. "I'm gonna need someone to take care of me when I'm discharged." You smile.

"I might know someone..." He says, moving so his lips are almost on yours. "Is this okay?" He asks.

"Fuck yes." You say, closing the gap between your mouths.

He kisses you sweetly, as if he was gonna break you. You hum into the kiss. You don't think you're ever gonna get tired of those lips.

Martha enters the room again and claps his hands. "I said behave!" She exclaims with an amused look.

Chibs smiles at her and sits on the chair again, never letting your hand go.

When Martha starts to change your bandage, Chibs freaks out.

"Shit are ye bleeding?" He says. "Is that normal?"

You laugh a bit, the pain instantly erasing your smile. "It's normal, baby. Don't worry." You explain, reassuring him.

Martha just smiles, finishing up her duty. "All done." She says. "You need anything, you know where to find me."

When she leaves, Chibs has a goofy smile on his face.

"What?" You ask, amused.

"Ye called me baby." He says, smiling even wider.

You laugh. "You get used to that. Now that you're mine, I don't plan on letting you go."

He kisses your hand. "What about the rest of our lives, love?"

Taglist: @everyhowlmarksthedead @chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @destynelseclipsa If you want to be tagged, just let me know❤

#chibs imagine #chibs telford #chibs x reader #filip chibs telford #filip telford #soa chibs #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #tommy flanagan

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smoochkooks · 5 years ago

Text

—make it right 1 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jung hoseok/reader

⟶ genre: smut (coming in second part!), angst, fluff

⟶ word count: 19k+ (this part)

⟶ tags/warnings for part one: hip hop dancer!hoseok/drummer!hoseok, ballerina!reader, enemies to friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slowburn, mutual pinning, sexual tension, course language, drinking, hoseok’s hot bandmates, oc rolling her eyes at hoseok every five seconds, some banter and sarcasm, etc.

⟶ summary: he was a punk, she did ballet, avril lavigne sings, but truth to be told, there’s so much more than meets the eye about jung hoseok besides his drums, killer dancing skills and unexplained hatred for tattoos and piercings. because, under the layers of leather jackets and washed out joy division shirts, he’s still just a boy who tries to find his place in this big world.

or, alternatively: ballerina meets certain hip hop dancer slash musician who’s on a mission to win her heart with coffee dates and drumming lessons.

⟶ read second (and final) part here

The first time you met Jung Hoseok, it was raining.

September had just begun, welcoming the citizens of Seoul with copious amounts of not-so-summer-like weather. And at this point, after three days of non-stopping rainfalls, you were convienced that mother nature was trying to drown the whole city.

It was Saturday afternoon, last remains of August were still in the air, hidden underneath greish clouds covering the whole sky. That didn’t seem to be any problem for the tourists though, emerging from every single corner with smartphones glued to their hands.

You were running late for your ballet dance teaching class with an umbrella in one hand and your gym bag in another, maneuvering between puddles in white trainers, praying to whatever gods that existed not to soak them through and cursing yourself for constant bad outfit choices when it came to weather. Scorching hot afternoon with friends? Let's wear something black, your brain would suggest. Rainstorm? White converse highs is a great idea!

Your mother would choke you with bare hands probably if she saw you right now.

On your way to the studio, you bumped into some old lady carrying bags of groceries. You threw quick apologies, ignoring the screams of “watch out!’’ along with deathly glares that other people were sending in your direction you, until you finally reached your destination. Exactly five minutes before the time.

Just Dance dance school, located approximately twenty-five minutes long underground ride from your flat (which as a broke college student you highly appreciated), appeared in front of your eyes.

It was a modern building, situated in a part of the city that smelled like soy sauce and burnt meat, but during four months you had been working there you got used to it. There was a nail salon on the first floor and tailor on the second, but the whole third floor belonged to the school.

You started working there on Fridays and Saturdays a while ago, after completely coincidentally stumbling upon an offer found online. The school was looking for someone who could teach kids ballet on weekends. A young, energetic person with experience and, obviously, great patience and sympathy for children.

The only thing you were lacking of was background in teaching. But the manager, Choi Jisoo, did not mind that at all. A row of gold medals and trophies sitting on your shelves was enough to convince her you’re worth giving a chance on a probationary period. After few weeks of proving your skills as the best ballet teacher miss Choi would ever think of, you had got in.

And that was how you dumped your part time job at the petrol station to teach kids at Just Dance twice a week. Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons for a decent amount of money for a college student struggling with real life shit called university fees and rent, that even scholarship couldn’t entirely underwrite.

Now, climbing up the stairs with the speed of light, you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to lose this job because of your silly daytime nap that made you run late for classes.

You bursted into the locker rooms quickly, practically undressing in a hurry. After short examination in front of the mirror and fixing your usual mess of a bun, you spared a quick glance one last time at the clock. Four minutes of delay.

“Fuck!” you muttered to yourself, jogging to the practice room.

The halls, usually quite, now were filled with child-like chatter and bubbling. You frowned. That's strange, you thought to yourself. Your astonishment grew even bigger when you reached your destination, spotting a group of kids, your kids, in front of the practice room, bickering with each other.

“Hey!’’ you shouted, silencing them effectively. “Why aren't you already warming up and stretching inside?”

One of the kids, a little girl named Jiyho, stepped forward. “The room is occupied by some other group, miss. They were here when we came.” she said.

You raised your eyebrows. Did you perhaps messed up schedules and forgot there were some changes? No, that couldn’t be it. “What do you mean ‘occupied’?” you asked. “That's impossible, we've been having this classes every week here, in this room, for three months. I would know if there were any changes.”

Kids looked at you helplessly, shrugging their shoulders.

You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, of course it's not your fault. I had a really crappy day and now this,’’ you drawled, pointing your hand at the door to the practice room. “Wait here. I’m gonna try to explain this quickly.’’ you added, smiling reassuringly at them.

When you opened the door, loud music filled your ears; some newest Drake's track you couldn’t remember the name of was playing from the speakers. Inside there was a group of kids, slightly older than the ones you were teaching, practing some hip-hop choreography.

Their teacher's back was facing you so you couldn’t distinguish if it was someone you knew from the school's crew. His dark hair with blonde highlights weren't familiar to you though. He was swaying to the rhythm of the music, counting the moves.

You cleared your throat loudly and there was no response. Of course no one could have heard you, not over the loud bass blasting through the speakers. You spotted the cause of your problem, a mobile phone charging in the corner of the room, so you went there and turned off the music entirely just before Drake could sing the chorus.

You cleared your throat again and this time everyone, including the dance teacher, heard you without a doubt.

Kids stopped dancing immediately and turned around, wide-eyed with heaving chests. Their teacher looked in your direction too, and now you were sure he had to be a new employee.

He was not much older than you, probably around your age. There was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead he wiped out with the back of his hand, his white t-shirt with the name of some punk rock band you didn't recognize was slightly sticking to his toned chest. He was good looking, you couldn’t deny that, and there was something devilish in the way he eyed your figure up and down with a smirk plastered on his lips.

You almost blushed under his gaze.

“Is there any problem, miss primaballerina?’’ he asked first, not even hiding his mocking tone.

You straightened up, ignoring his choice of words. “A problem?” you scoffed. “You and your group took the room where I have my classes every Friday and Saturday, so yeah, there is a problem.”

“The room was empty when I came here, so I just took it, it's not a big deal.” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It is a big deal. Are you blind? This room is made directly for ballet dances. See this thing beside the wall?” You pointed behind him. “It's called barre. We used that for stretching in ballet. Of course you don't know that, how an ignorant hip-hop choreographer wanna be like you would know.” you snorted, chuckling to yourself.

In the corner of your eye you saw your kids peeking through the door, clearly interested in this unusual situation.

He narrowed his eyes. “I know what this is used for, princess,” he countered. You rolled your eyes at the pet name he used for you. First primaballerina and now this? Touché. “But I still don't see the point of your outburst.”

You were slowly losing your patience. The amusement in the eyes of his dancing group started to get on your nerves. It was a battle for the life and death and you weren’t used to backing away and losing. You had kids to take care of, rent to pay and new season of RuPaul's Drag Race to watch.

So you picked up a new strategy.

“Are you perhaps new here?” you asked, startling him.

“I am, why are you asking?”

“Because if you weren't new, you would know that there is only one practice room with barres in our school. This one, which also happens to be the room where I have my ballet classes every week.” you said triumphantly with a glint of not-so subtle satisfaction in your voice. “So, can you kindly take your kids and go somewhere else?”

That's it, you praised yourself in your thoughts. You got him, he doesn’t have anything up his sleeve.

The guy, however, seemed very much unaffected by your words. If anything, he was even more pleased, making your stony facade broke in seconds as you were losing your former confidence.

“No.’’ he said simply.

You gaped at him. “What?”

“I said no, princess. I need ten more minutes to finish this practice and I’m done.’’ he replied, reaching for the water bottle standing beside the wall. “Ten minutes, and you will have your bars or barrels all to yourself.”

You ignored an urge to correct him, taking a few tentative steps until you were right in front of him. He outstanded your height for a few solid centimeters, making you feel even smaller than you already were.

In addition, you hated him even more for looking this good even up close.

“Ten more minutes?! I should have started my lesson fifteen minutes ago! My kids are waiting!” You outstretched your arms in the direction where your group was watching the situation cautiously. They looked like tennis match spectators, turning their heads left and right as the argument progressed.

“So are mine,” he snapped back in calm tone, his lips twitching in an amused smile. Your nostrils flared.

“Miss? We could use another room today. We don't mind.” one of the girls from your group, Jihyo as you assumed, proposed shyly.

“But I do mind! I’m not gonna leave it like that!’’ you said firmly, still looking straight into your new rival's eyes.

“Geez, loosen up your primaballerina skirt a little maybe.”

“It’s called tutu, you ignorant assh–!”

“What on Earth is going on here?” the manager, Choi Jisoo asked, entering the room. She was a middle-aged woman, once a contemporary dancer, now leading the school on behalf of her husband. Her red high heels were clicking loudly on the polished parquet surface as she was coming up in your direction. “I heard shouting, so I came to check. Can someone explain me why aren't you having your classes now?”

You immediately rushed to the manager, taking her hands in yours. “Miss Choi, I will explain everything. This man right here,” You pointed at the cause of your anger with distaste written all over your face and he simply rolled his eyes. “took my practice room and I have no place to have my classes.”

Miss Choi turned to look at the choreographer as well. “Is that true, Hoseok?’’ she asked.

The guy, Hoseok, nodded. “This room was empty, so I just took it. I didn’t know someone was supposed to teach here later.”

You scoffed. “There's a graphic hanging on the wall when you enter the building, you should've just–”

“Silence!” miss Choi said loudly and you stopped speaking, face flushed from the embarrassment of being scolded like that by your boss. “Jung Hoseok is indeed new here, so I will let that situation pass. And you, Y/N, will take another room for today’s practice.”

“But–”

“There's no buts. I’m sure Hoseok will know from now on in which room he should have his dance lessons. Go back to your groups, you are dismissed.” she added and left the room, leaving you to stare at her disappearing figure with wide eyes.

You clenched your fists by your sides, breathing deeply to calm your nerves. “Kids, go to the room 23.” you uttered, eyes focused on Hoseok.

He smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “See you around, princess.” he half-whispered and winked.

Beginnings are always tough, and that was why after your first encounter with Jung Hoseok, you were certain you absolutely, undeniably hated his guts.

The second time you bumped into Jung Hoseok, it was Friday evening two weeks since ‘the accident' and you were walking out of locker rooms after your practice.

When you opened the door and heard strangled cry of “Ah, fuck!” you rushed to blurt out quick apologies to your victim. “Oh my God, I’m so–” you started but immadietly shut your mouth when you saw the person who you just hit.

Jung Hoseok, in his full glory of another The Clash t-shirt (you googled their music your first encounter with him and the only nice think you could say about them was that Jonathan played their song in Stranger Things first season) and yes, grey sweatpants (did he even own other clothes?) was standing before you, grinning in the most annoying way you could ever think of.

You wished you could wipe his smug expression off his face with sand paper.

“Fancy seeing you here too, princess,” he trailed off, leaning against the door and making you roll your eyes like every time you saw him on the halls of Just Dance. Even though you were avoiding him like a plague, he seemed to appear wherever you were. A true pain in the ass.

Maybe you were too stubborn, maybe it was your shitty coping mechanism, but decent conversation with someone like Jung Hoseok wasn’t your favourite part of the day, not after the way you were humiliated in front of your boss and underaged students.

Last week you walked past Hoseok's group and some of them giggled. You could swear they were already making jokes and memes about you behind your back.

And, the worst of it all, an absolute peak of your devastation, was the fact that even your own kids, those who were looking up to you, started to be more reserved around you. Jihyo baked some muffins because she had birthday the other day and didn’t treat you. Jihyo, the girl who once had told you she wanted to be like you in the future.

But none of this anymore.

You turned on your heels and started to walk away but Hoseok followed your footsteps. “Hey, it's rude not to apologize. My right hand hurts now, you know? I need you to kiss it better, princess.” he called, again in the same mocking tone he had used before.

And that was the moment you decided that if choking people to death had been legal, Jung Hoseok would have been already lying dead on the floor.

You ignored his words the best you could, acting like he was invisible. Avoiding the problem wasn’t the best idea you could ever think of, your mum would say but she wasn’t there, so you concluded it was better to act like Hoseok and the situation with practice rooms two weeks ago had never happened.

Hoseok, on the other hand, had very much different outlook on this. “Are you still mad about this thing with practice rooms?’’ he asked, looking at your right profile. You clamped your mouth shut, staring forward. He chuckled. “Christ, I didn't know you're that picky. Are all primaballerinas like this? Right, you are giving me silent treatment, I forgot. But can you please stop and listen what I have to say for a moment?”

After hearing his last words you actually stopped in your tracks, causing Hoseok to do the same.

You sighed heavily. Maybe he was right after all. You were a bitch sometimes, you couldn’t handle the defeats well and above all, you had probably the worst coping mechanism ever.

That was not the end of the world, somebody would say. Don't worry, be happy, Bob Marley would sing if he hadn’t died. Sparing one minute for Jung Hoseok wouldn’t make the ground to open in half underneath you.

“Go on, I’m listening,” you said, choosing casual tone of absolute unbotherness.

Hoseok took a deep breath, before he started speaking. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened two weeks ago. It wasn’t intentional, I swear. As you know, I’m new here and you can argue or not but people sometimes deserve second chances,” he remarked, observing your reaction. You should stop rolling your eyes at everything that came off his mouth. “So, I thought we can go for, uhm, a coffee maybe? Tomorrow, after our classes.”

You raised your eyebrows, gawking at him.

“It's all on me. As an apology.” Hoseok added sheepishly.

A coffee? With Jung Hoseok? A hip-hop dancer who didn’t know what barre was? You opened your mouth to snap “am I joke to you?” but you stopped eventually.

To be fair, you had nothing to lose. He wanted to apologize after all, he was the first one to approach you and maybe that was how adults should act.

You looked at him once again, more intensely this time, trying to find any sort of fake politeness in his expression. But in his eyes there was nothing but genuineness. Maybe Jung Hoseok really just wanted to treat you in lieu of apology.

Finally, after a minute that seemed to last forever, you softened. “Fine.”

Hoseok's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Stop staring at me like that or I will change my mind.” you grumbled and he grinned at you boyishly, in the way he probably made people fall for him. Because with that kind of aura he emitted, it was hard not to. Thank God you could easily resist his charms.

“That's settled then. Wait for me after your practice in front of the locker rooms.” he said, while walking away backwards. “See you tomorrow, princess!”

When he disappeared behind the corner, you muttered to yourself, “See you too, asshole.”, adjusting the straps of your gym bag.

It was a good while after that day when you realised that some people really did deserve second chances.

And Jung Hoseok was one of those kind.

Your third meeting with Jung Hoseok was a date. Actually, it wasn’t a date at all. You called it ‘coffee for the peace’. United we stand, divided we fall, they said.

Or to paraphrase Fergie: little coffee never killed nobody.

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the locker rooms, eyeing yourself with contorted look. Your hair was a mess, which you blamed the weather for. Even though mother nature stopped bombarding the city with rainfalls, the humidity was still there, lurking around the corners and waiting for the right moment to attack. You didn’t even know why you cared so much about your appearance. It was just a coffee, nothing more, nothing less, for God's sake.

With a sigh, you bent over to tie your shoes, and then you heard a voice coming from behind you. The same low, teasing tone that could only belong to–

“Didn't know you've been hiding this under your ballerina skirt all time,” Hoseok mused. “What a waste.”

You twirled around with a speed of light, facing him with slightly pinkish cheeks. It wasn't everyday that someone non-explicitly talked about your ass, especially someone like him. It wasn’t even on full display because you had your leggings on and you knew he was joking but still, your face felt hotter.

“What are doing here? You aren't supposed to be here, it's ladies locker room!” you hissed.

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been here forever, so I decided to check if you didn't slip on your point shoes and died.”

You raised your left eyebrow. “Very funny. Now give me a minute and we can go wherever you want.”

“Watch your words, princess, beacuse I might take your offer seriously.”

He couldn't see you but you rolled your eyes hearing him say this regardless. You took your bag from the porch and turned around to face him with a bored expression written all over your features.

“Don't act like you're doing this as a punishment. You won’t regret, I promise,” After climbing off the stairs, Hoseok opened the door and you embarked on a street. “This place isn't far away from here, just a ten minutes walk.” he explained, choosing a direction you didn’t know.

To distract yourself a little, you started to observe the neighborhood. It was less crowded here, the usual smell from cheap restaurants was less palpable now. You were walking down the street you weren’t familiar with, you hadn’t had a chance to explore it like that yet.

It was dead quiet between you despite the hustle of the city. You weren’t used to this kind of silence and even though you certainly weren’t a master of small-talks, at least you had to try loosen up the heavy atmosphere a little.

“So,” you trailed off, “You seem to know this part of the city pretty well.”

Hoseok hummed, taking another turn that seemed to be some kind of a cutoff. “My old dance school I used to go is here, in this area,” he said. “I moved to the boarding school in Seoul from Gwangju when I was sixteen beacuse I wanted to pursue dancing. My parents weren’t very fond of it, but I told them that high school I chose had a very promising programme for kids who wanted to be business majors in the future as they wanted me to be.”

“And did you do something with that? Business, I mean,” you asked.

He scrunched his nose. “Nah, not really.” He looked like he didn't want to elaborate on that more, so you didn’t press him further. “Enough storytime for now. We're here.”

There you stood in front of a simple coffee shop like many others. Blue Side, signboard said in swirly fonts and English spelling. There was nothing distinctive about it, just an ordinary place you could find in neighborhoods like this in every single city, but you knew places like this one sometimes had living souls inside, telling their own stories.

Blue Side indoors looked exactly like the name was saying: azure walls, paired with modern white chairs and tables, grayish cloths adoring them. Classy, tasteful decor, someone would say, but one thing seemed completely out of place: big, framed pictures of sunflowers, your favourite plants, hanging on the walls like on a blue sky.

There was something bizarre about it, they didn’t match the rest of the decoration at all but at the same time they seemed to fit perfectly. They were bringing strange kind of calmness and halcyon aura to the place, marked with cold tones but broken through the yellow warmth.

Hoseok lead you to the table by the window. There wasn’t a lot of people beside you here, so a young looking waitress with dyed pink hair approached you pretty quickly, handing menus. She grinned broadly at Hoseok, too courteous for your liking, and for a moment you wondered just how many coffees the waitress served him before. Probably a good amount, judging by the way he returned the smile.

You looked through the positions briefly, before deciding on a simple espresso. Hoseok didn’t even open his. Regular customer, you thought to yourself, flesh and bones.

Awkward silence fell between you again and this time Hoseok was the one to break it.

“It's weird seeing you without your ballerina outfit,” he said, startling you. “And your hair isn’t in a bun today,” He pointed at the top of his head, tracing invisible circles in the air.

“Is that a bad thing?’’

Hoseok’s smile was smug when he spoke. “Not at all. You look good like this. Not so dramatic.”

You huffed. “I'm not dramatic.”

“Says the person who almost kicked me and my kids out of the practice room, and called me hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

You opened your mouth to snap a witty response at him but the pink-haired waitress came to collect the orders. Maybe you were losing your mind but you could swear her lips weren't tainted in fuschia before.

“Just an espresso for me,” you said, sending the waitress a forced smile.

“Caramel frappuccino with–” Hoseok started, but the waitress interrupted him.

“With extra cream, got it.” she finished his sentence, clearly proud of herself.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress an urge to chuckle. Hoseok sent a polite smile to the girl and averted his gaze to you. The points of his ears were slightly flushed in red.

“So yeah,” he uttered, scartching the back of his neck. “Where were we?”

For a moment you thought about teasing him a little more, but eventually you resigned. He looked enough flustered right now and you’re not that devil as you had thought.

“We were talking about me looking dramatic with a bun and tutu on,” you prompted instead.

“You know that's not what I meant.”

You ignored him. “Anyway, you too don't look today like a hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

That was true, he didn’t remind you of the sweaty Hoseok in grey sweatpants you were seeing every Friday and Saturday on the halls of Just Dance after blasting Spotify Global Top 50 for a whole hour.

This Hoseok who was sitting in front of you was wearing ripped jeans and leather jacket paired with ankle boots you wouldn’t mind buying for yourself in a smaller size. Daredevil, that was a good word to describe him. Dangerous, daring, and maybe d–yeah, dumbass, your brain suggested.

Yet, one thing was still the same about him.

“What's with you and those t-shirts?’’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Hoseok snorted at that. ‘’I like the band, so I wear t-shirts with their name on. It's as simple as that, princess. But I don't expect you to understand since you probably don't know who Joy Division is.”

You placed your palm on your chest, more offended by his words that you would like to admit. ‘’Of course I know who Joy Division is. I'm ballerina, not stupid,” you scoffed. ‘’Love will tear us apart is their song, isn’t it? I’ve been through this edgy phase on Tumblr in 2015. I know what I’m taking about.”

Hoseok looked at you with raised eyebrows and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t put your finger on. Was it amusement? Curiosity?

You didn’t have a lot of time to think about it though, because the waitress was back with your orders. Again starstrucked by Hoseok. Again smiling sweetly like kpop female idols on music shows.

While she finally put your coffees on the table (she spent definitely too much time doing it) and walked away, you spoke once more.

“I don’t get it,” you said and Hoseok muttered “what?”, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never seen someone doing a choreography to Drake's song and be dressed like cliché rock band member the next day.”

Hoseok placed his cup down and looked at you with a smirk. “I have many faces you don't know about yet, princess.” he warned. Dangerous, daring, dumb–

“And when am I going to find out?” you countered.

“If you keep going for a coffee with me after our practices, I might reveal more of myself to you. As long as you are going to do the same in return.”

At that, you raised your eyebrows. Hoseok's eyes were challenging, asking you to pick up the dare and get to know him more and more, slice him layer after layer. Your subconscious was telling you there was so much more than meets the eye about Jung Hoseok than his annoying retorts and edgy t-shirts. And you were there to witness all of it.

“Fine,” you finally agreed, eyes narrowed. “We can hang out after classes. Sometimes.”

Hoseok grinned. “Great. Now, let's start getting to know each other!”

You're eyes widened comically. “Woah, slow down, boy. You know my name, know that I teach ballet and that I like espresso. What else should I tell you on our first dat–meeting?” you corrected yourself quickly. Date was a sacred word. Definitely not reserved for a man like Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, please. I also know it's better not to get on your nerves,” he pointed out. Smartass. “Tell me about how all of this happened. How did you become a ballerina.” he suggested.

You took a big sip of your coffee. “That's a quite long story,” you said languidly.

“I don't mind. We have time.”

You stared at him for a moment. He looked slightly out of picture, sitting in a quiet coffee shop, drinking a cup of the sweetest drink you could ever think of, while wearing clothes that made him look like he belonged to shady bars, where he could be surrounded by sleazy people sipping on their scotch whiskeys. There should have been a cigarette caught between his lips and fumes of smoke swirling around his features, but there was solace and the smell of caramel. Jung Hoseok, with a picture of sunflowers behind his back looked like no one you had ever met before.

And this kind of enigma that was this boy inflamed a strange curiosity in you.

So you picked up a dare.

“Well,” you began, “It all started when I was in kindergarten. You know how it is, when you are five years old and your parents want to divert their unfulfilled ambitions into you. You could say I was this type of kid, kinda. My mum was a ballerina when she was young, so was her mother, but when she got pregnant with me in very early stage of her relationship with dad, she had to stop her career and took care of me. Dad was constantly working, travelling here and there to gain as much money as he could for us,” you explained.

“Mum always told me that my grandparents weren’t quite fond of their relationship. Especially my mum's. You know, dad used to be some kind of a bad boy back then,” you chuckled, remembering the pictures mum showed you. Leather jackets, motorbikes and self made cigarettes. “Grandma constantly blamed him for ruining mum's dreams, for debauching her and then, I happened,” you paused to gulp a sip of your coffee and continued. “So yeah, my grandma never forgave dad. However, after years she had grown to tolerate him to the point she didn’t throttle him during Christmas.”

You smiled, thinking how your dad and grandma avoided any unnecessary conversations between them. It was all civil, good mornings and goodbyes spoke in casual tone, but the tension was so thick that any sudden impulse, like dad talking about old times after a few glasses of wine, could break everything they had built through years.

“It was actually my dad who took me to the ballet classes first. My mum never wanted me to follow her footsteps but dad somehow tried to, I don't know, redeem himself? He felt responsible for a long time and when I think about this now, he just wanted to make his daughter a next little ballerina so my grandma could be pleased.”

Suddenly Hoseok interrupted you. “But don't you think it's unfair your parents did that to you because your mum couldn’t, you know, continue her career anymore?” he asked and you were pleasantly surprised to see him intrigued by your little story.

You hummed, contemplating this for a second before you answered. “You’re right, maybe it is slightly unfair but I actually grown to love ballet while the years passed. And seeing my mum happily watching my performances is enough for me.” you said. Ballet was your whole life, it always had been, there was no point of denying it.

“What about your grandma then?”

“She died a few years ago. But I think she was proud of me. She never told me that verbally though. She was pretty bad at expressing feelings, but I know she was proud. I saw it in her eyes after my first big étude.”

It was in middle school, back when you were living in your hometown. Your group was performing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker and you got one of the leading roles. You never forgot the look in your grandma's eyes when she approached you after the performance.

“And what now?” Hoseok asked and you looked up at him. “What are your plans for the next, few years?”

“Now, I still have a couple of years to double major from ballet dances and psychology. And what would come after, we will see. I have a big performance in January that will determine something really important for me. And as for the future-future, teaching kids ballet seems really nice.” You smiled lightly.

You didn’t like to talk about your big performance aloud, since you weren't quite sure of what future was going to bring. It determined if you would get into four-months-long international scholarship in Russia or not. Only one person could win this. And you were strong-willed to at least try. You dreamt about it your entire life. To finally dance on the stage of Bolszoy Theatre, maybe go on a whole tour around the world with their crew. But that was for now a matter of your own luck and abilities.

“Wow,” Hoseok mused. “You have this all planned out, princess.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a goal, not actual plans,” you grumbled sheepishly. “What about you? Are you really a hip-hop choreographer wanna be?’’ You giggled but stopped abruptly when you saw his expression seemed to have changed. Gone was cocky, grinning boy he was just minutes ago. Now in Hoseok's eyes was some kind of sadness and melancholy that wasn’t there before. It didn’t suit him. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No plans. I’m just living the moment.” he said matter-of-factly, like he was trying to play it the most casually he could. It was strange behavior.

Maybe Hoseok was right. He did have a lot more hidden underneath the layers he put on everyday. He just didn’t want to show it. Not yet.

The atmosphere condensed between you. It was thick and heavy with strange tension. You tried to loosen up it a little. It was probably your personality trait your friend would directly connect with your zodiac sign. “So,” you chimed in, “for how long this waitress has been giving you heart eyes?”

Asking that was completely unplanned but you had to think about something quickly, offhand. Hoseok’s features brightened a little and you didn’t know if it was because the question was about the girl or because you were the one asking him it.

Ironically, you hoped for the latter.

“Chaeyoung, you mean?”

Oh, he knew her name. Interesting.

You tightened your grip around the cup unconsciously. “Is there any other waitress here who has a crush on you?”

Hoseok smirked after hearing your snarky remark but chose not to answer that. “Actually I’ve never had more explicit conversation with her, unless it was about the coffee. Maybe I should try, what do you think? She seems nice.” His eyes wandered for a moment to the place where the waitress stood, talking to a customer.

You smiled but there was no true politeness in this. Why though, that was something to think about on another occasion. “Yeah, you should. Totally.” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, totally.” Hoseok agreed, nodding.

For a minute it was mute but then he glanced at your empty cups and a small smirk appeared on his face. “So, where are you taking me next?” he asked out of the blue.

You blinked. “What?”

“I treated you this week, your turn is next.”

‘’I’m not gonna buy you food, the fuck. You treated me as an apology! I don't-” You stopped your outburst when you saw him snickering at you. “Why the hell are you laughing?’’ you snapped. There was probably a blush on your cheeks and you cupped them briefly with your hands to cover it.

“Because I was kidding. You don't have to buy me anything, I can pay for myself. Relax, princess.” Hoseok grinned. He didn’t seem to be as uneasy as before, so you scoffed at him. “But honestly, where are we going next weekend?” he asked, entirely serious.

“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” you challenged.

He just sent you his signature, cocky grin. “Am I that bad company?” he teased.

“Decent. You’re decent company, Hoseok.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don't be. That's just me trying to be civil.” you warned, pointing your index finger at him.

“Great, I’ll text you about it soon then, princess,” Hoseok announced simply, ignoring your surprised expression. He reached for the menu still lying on the table and opened it. “They serve good lemon tarts here, want some?” he proposed, going through the other positions briefly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still processing what he had said earlier. “You don't have my phone number.”

“I do, actually,” Hoseok mumbled and his lips twitched.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “How did you get my number?”

“Soyeon. I asked her and she gave me.” Hoseok answered simply, shrugging his shoulders.

A shocked gasp left your lips. “Soyeon, the receptionist? You swooned her over to get my number? She's married!” you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

Now it was Hoseok's turn to roll his eyes. “Not my fault she couldn't resist my smile and sweet words.”

You sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience.

“Well, what about those lemon tarts?”

You tossed your head back, groaning in frustration that was probably heard by every single person passing by the coffee shop on this September afternoon.

However, you missed the way Hoseok's lips stretched out in a warm, sincere smile.

You did end up having those lemon tarts that day.

You couldn’t explain why or how, but in some way coffee meetings after dance lessons on Saturdays were no more just them. They turned into late dinners on Fridays and random text messages when you were bored during your lectures, which most times were eventually escalalting to Hoseok sending you tiktoks and memes you had saw million times before yet you laughed at them anyway.

It was a start of promising friendship, someone could say. Unexpected, with not so smooth beginning but blossoming into something much more than simple hanging out in your free time. But none of you seemed to notice it, not yet.

Before you could even blink, summer was officially over and fall started to make her way into the weather. Warm cups of coffee started to feel more and more reasonable with each passing day and one time you found yourself holding one while visiting Hoseok at his work.

It was Wednesday, you didn’t have any classes at uni that day and he texted you if you could come to the address he had sent. And you did, ignoring the cold wind and forgetting about the warmth between your sheets you had to leave. Which had been surprising even for you; a sacrifice for someone like Jung Hoseok, but again, you weren’t categorizing it like that yet.

That’s how you found out about Hoseok's other job. He worked at the Suga's Record Shop, where, as he had described it: you could buy legendary pieces of music while listening to another million dollar hits. He’d said he took the position at Just Dance because the actual interest in buying vinyls unfortunately wasn't increasing, so the guy who owned the shop, Min Yoongi was his name, had decided to reduce Hoseok's salary.

The shop looked like pulled out straight from 80s movies, with tons of records of probably every single artist you could think of. There wasn’t anyone beside you inside, so Hoseok walked you around, picking up different albums, classics, as he had said and showing them to you. He kept talking about them with true admiration written on his features, babbling about how Joey Ramone and his band invented punk rock and you found yourself watching him with amusement glittering in your eyes.

Days, weeks passed and it was already October approaching, turning green parks into wide range of colors that could only be described as autumnal.

You kept discovering more and more similarities between you and Hoseok than you would like to admit. One of them being your laicsm when it came to manga and anime. The solidarity was made one Friday after practices, when you both agreed on not understanding the hype after seeing some poster hanging out randomly on the street.

Music taste however, was another cup of tea. It was something Hoseok took his pride in, that was why he kept sending you various tracks encouraging you to listen to some good stuff until one day, with raised eyebrows, he learnt how wrong his previous assumptions about you had been.

“Oh my God, my song!’’ you exclaimed, when The Neighbourhood’s Softcore started playing while you were sitting at the Blue Side. It looked like the pink-haired waitress was absent, so were the latest k-pop tracks she constantly played in the coffee shop.

“You know them?’’ Hoseok asked, looking at you with bewilderment in his eyes.

You snorted at him. “Told you I had that edgy vibe in 2015 when everyone listened to Sweather Weather. The t-shirts are long gone but my love for Jesse Rutherford stays untouched.”

You started mouthing the lyrics but Hoseok interrupted you. “I thought you would be into some k-pop type of shit.”

He received a roll of your eyes in return. “Hey, don't disrespect k-pop like that! There are nice songs out there, people just choose the worse ones usually and complain how trashy they are.” you said, pointing your index finger accusingly at him.

Hoseok lifted his arms in defending pose. “Fine, fine, don’t cancel me. What about classical music then. Since you are dancing ballet and all,” he drawled.

“Do you want to know a secret?’’ You leaned over the table and whispered, earning a nod from Hoseok. “Most ballerinas know nothing about classical music unless they are pieces we use for our routines. Ask them about their favourite and the answers would probably be Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. I'm most ballerinas.”

There was a moment of silence before you both erupted into laughter.

For people looking at you from the distance, laughing together until tears formed in your eyes, teasing and throwing playful snorts, you might have looked like you had known each other for years.

Something was ending, leaves were falling off the trees and sun hid behind the greish clouds but in the warm embrace of a small coffee shop two people found themselves in a hold of affection they couldn’t escape, no matter how hard they tried.

Because love sometimes comes into people’s lifes unannounced, tearing apart their souls and making them vulnerable for others’ healing touch.

It was late evening on Friday, when you were sitting at your favourite ramen place, bonding over food like it was the most natural thing to do, talk between next chews, bites and occasional slurps of Hoseok's mouth.

Miss Lee's ramen was cheap, not fatty and what was the most important – not popular among other residents of your neighborhood, so not many people decided to show up that evening as well. That became the reason why you had suggested meeting there with Hoseok after your lessons.

You were in the middle of playing 100 questions game, a new found way of getting to know each other better. It was completely Hoseok's idea because he seemed to be the most eager man to learn more about you that you had ever met in your entire history of dating which, sadly, wasn't impressive.

Last time someone asked you so many questions, you were doing personality tests on Buzzfeed.

Now it was your turn to ask something and after discovering that Hoseok poured milk before the cereal, liked green the most from all colors and was scared of needles (that's probably why he didn’t have any piercings, you thought to yourself) you decided you were really bad at this game.

But then, you recalled the interview you had recently watched with some k-pop group and after swallowing a generous amount of pasta, you aimed the target.

“What's your most prized possession?’’

Hoseok, however, answered without a second thought. “My drums.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion. “Drums? Like the instrument?”

“No, like the cannisters.” he snorted sarcastically.

“So you can play?” you continued, ignoring his witty retort.

“Yes, I do. I started learning when I was a kid. My dad owned a music shop. He was renovating old instruments from time to time and that's how I was gifted drums on my 10th birthday. The same ones I have till this day.”

You hummed. “So you’re hip-hop dancer slash drummer? And what, you play in a rock band too?” you laughed but stopped right away when you saw his serious expression. You gasped. “Oh my God. You do play in a band! And you didn’t tell me sooner?!” you exclaimed loudly. Young couple sitting few seats from you sent you deathly glares. You mouthed “Sorry!” and directed your attention to Hoseok again.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “There wasn’t an opportunity before,” You shook your head in disbelief at that. “Told you I’ve got a lot more to reveal.” He smirked and fuck, you hoped the blush that covered your cheeks right now was from the spice noodles you had eaten.

So Jung Hoseok and his love for leather jackets and old bands wasn't unreasonable. You hated yourself for wanting to see him play, sweat covering his forehead and lips bitten in concentration. What a sight it could be. Truly mesmerizing.

You had to stop your brain from wandering through such dangerous territories.

“So,” you started after clearing your thoughts, “Are there any other hot musicians in your band?” you asked, regretting your choice of words as soon as they left your lips. You wanted to slap yourself mentally.

“Did you just call me hot?”

“In your dreams. Now tell me about your rock band,” you blurted out quickly and let out a shaky breath afterwards. That was very much close to a catastrophe.

Yet you didn’t miss the way Hoseok's lips lifted up in amusement, trying to hide the laughter blossoming in his throat. “We are actually a punk rock band. There’s four of us. Namjoon, electric guitarist and the leader who sticks us all together since 2016. Jimin, in charge of vocals and bass guitar, and the youngest member, Jungkook, vocalist and bass guitar player as well.”

“How did you all meet then?’’

You weren’t even hiding your curiosity at this point. You justified yourself by thinking it was your only chance to be as close to the real (punk) rock band member you would ever be.

“You probably won’t believe me, but we all met at the university. I was studying business for a year before I dropped out of it and that's how I met Namjoon, who’s been my roommate ever since,” Hoseok said. “I met Jungkook and Jimin through Namjoon. He introduced them to me saying they all took part in some underground concerts for amateurs and after that they started hanging out together. You might say it was a coincidence we all met like that but I don't believe it. I think we were meant to come across each other eventually, you know, to save punk rock together.” He laughed to himself after finishing his little story.

You smiled at him genuinely and there was no mockness in this, it was true sympathy and probably something else, not so easy to describe.

You imagined four boys, with head full of dreams and hearts filled with raw passion, doing something the world didn’t believe in, but they had enough faith in themselves to prove everyone wrong.

“So how’s the band called?” you asked.

“Punk’s Not Dead.” Hoseok responded, cheeks bright red with mortification.

“Punk’s Not Dead,” you mused to yourself. “Sounds nice. Clever, I would say.”

“It's actually a name of the movie. It was Namjoon who made it up. He's the smartest from our group. After all he isn’t studying law without a reason.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest. “A future lawyer playing in a punk rock band? I thought nothing is gonna surprise me after hearing you, hip-hop choreographer wanna be, are also a drummer. What about the others? Doctors? Stripteasers?”

Hoseok chukled lightly. “No, none of that. Jungkook and Jimin both work together as mechanics,” he answered, reaching for his now empty ramen bowl. You gaped as his calloused fingers adored with rings curled around the item, moving it to the side. Hoseok had pretty hands, you noticed. Hands of musician.

Sudden idea popped up in your head. “So when am I gonna hear you playing live?” you asked, smirking at him.

“Soon actually.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah, soon. We are having a gig next Saturday at Namjoon's brother bar. You should come.” Hoseok suggested.

What kind of hollywood movie plot it was, you didn’t know, but you found yourself enjoying the main female protagonist's role probably too much.

“Next Saturday,” you mumbled to yourself, counting days in your head. Right, it was the day your best friend was coming back from Los Angeles and you had to pick her up from the airport.

You bit your lip. Ah, fuck it.

“Fine. I’ll come,” you said. ‘’But can I bring my friend as a company?” you added and Hoseok smiled broadly.

“The more people, the better.”

It was a while after the concert when you learnt it wasn’t entirely a good idea but right now, with Jung Hoseok and his cocky grin he was flashing you, nothing else mattered.

Incheon International Airport was a place utterly unfamiliar to you.

Last time you had visted it, was when you had been in ripe age of ten, welcoming back your aunt Jia from her ‘life journey’ to Tibet.

Aunt Jia was an extraordinary lady, she had proved it announcing the whole family her departure to Tibet for a six months long ‘detox’, nearly giving your mother heart attack when she had talked about bonding through the nature and finding her inner peace in a temple among Tibetan monks.

But it was years ago, now aunt Jia was older and her interest in buddhism was way more sustainable, limited to buying different Buddha figurines in art decor shops.

So today, you were at the Incheon International Airport for the second time in your life, again welcoming, this time your best friend Hana from her almost two years long stay in United States.

You met three years ago, both freshly graduated from your high schools and starting a new, adult life in Seoul as roommates. You had become close friends pretty easily, sticking together through ups and downs of dealing with real life shit, as you used to call it.

Ballerina and soon to be actress, both too dramatic for this world but getting along just fine through a whole year, until one day Hana had announced over a bowl of cereal she had received an opportunity to go on an international scholarship in USA she had always dreamt about. A lifetime chance, one in a million, as she'd said. Learning acting from American professionalists, walking down the never ending sunshine streets of California. Something only outstanding people can experience.

That was how Hana had ended up in Los Angeles, the City of Stars and the world's factory of make-believe. Thousands of kilometers away from home. Today, she was going to step on her country's ground for the first time in two years since she had been gone and you were more than thrilled to see her again in person.

She hadn’t exactly told you why she was back, neither she had explained for how long or, what was the most important and disturbing: why this was happening all of a sudden. And something was telling you it was all too suspicious, a perfectly wrapped half-lie.

Hana said someone from her old friends from acting school had told her that the National Theater was preparing to do Victor Hugo's Les Misérables and suggested she should try her luck with castings, since she had played the main role while being abroad. It sounded convincing though, how wouldn’t, she was a good actress after all.

That was Hana’s version of events. How really was, you didn't know, not yet. But you were sure something about this whole situation was too strange to be true. And you were determined to find out exactly what.

It was late morning in Seoul, foggy and with definitely too much humidity in the air. You were standing in the arrivals hall holding a self-made sign, produced out of boredom and your true love for DIY Pinterest ideas. Besides your friend’s name, you had painted palm trees on it and added glitter that was still stuck to some parts of your bedroom floor. You probably looked ridiculous holding it in your hands but you didn’t care, shifting from left foot to right. Waiting.

When you were about to check the time, you saw people coming up in your direction with suitcases in their hands. And then, among a crowd of nameless passengers, you saw a familiar blonde pony-tail and black polka-dot suitcase that could only belong to one person.

You could feel the roll of your best friend's eyes before you actually saw it, Hana shaking her head and chuckling to herself because of the absurd sign you were holding.

When Hana was approximately ten meters from you, you cleared your throat and half-yelled in flat english, “There she is! My California girl!”

People around looked in your direction with both distaste and amusement but Hana only sighed, until breath was knocked out of her lungs from the sheer force of your hug.

“Oh my God, I missed you so much!” you mumbled into the material of her grey coat.

“We talked and face timed each other practically everyday,” Hana grumbled but deep down, even if she didn’t say it, she missed you too.

“That's not the same!” you protested. “Lemme look at you properly,” You pulled away from the hug, putting your hands on Hana's shoulders and eyeing her carefully. She looked skinnier than three years ago when you had met but that was a question for another occasion. Her skin, gingerly touched by Californian sun, made her look like she had just come back from holidays abroad. “You're definitely too tanned for October,” you pointed out, earning a chuckle from her.

“Come on,” Hana said, tiredness clearly apparent in her voice. “Let's get away from here.”

Back in the Uber that was driving you to your place, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Unspoken questions were lying at the tip of your tongue and you wanted to let them out instantly but you knew better. No rush, one information at the time. So you started from the simplest one, or you just thought it was.

“Did you tell your parents you're back?” you asked and Hana visibly grimaced after hearing it. Of course she didn’t, there was no point of lying.

“Not yet.”

“When are you going to tell them then?”

There was a pause on the other side of the seat and followed by a heavy sigh, Hana responded. “They still think I’m in California because my scholarship physically ends in two months. I will visit them home as soon as I’ll settle down in Seoul again.”

Settle down? You furrowed your eyebrows. She was going to stay for good here?

“So what are your next plans?’’ you wondered aloud.

“Go to that try-out in the theatre next week, see if my stay in America was actually worth something,” Hana chuckled dryly, almost bitterly. “I was also thinking about finding some part time job so I could afford a place on my own once I get back to acting regularly in theatre. I don’t want to overuse your kindness.”

“You're not using–” you started to protest but Hana cut you off.

“I am practically throwing myself at you because I don't have a place to live. But don't worry, that's not for a long time.” She smiled lightly and you reciprocated the gesture. Hana then turned her head to the window, looking out of it for a while as you passed the streets. She murmured something about the weather that you didn’t hear well because your thoughts were somewhere else.

You tried to digest all the revelations your friend had just told you. It looked like Hana wasn’t planning on coming back to Los Angeles any time soon or she wasn't going to do it at all, but that wasn’t the most puzzling issue about the whole situation. It was strange because she’d never said anything about staying abroad for longer, not even once, until she met him. That happened to be some kind of an anchor for her, a reason why she had started questioning openly her further life choices. Had something happened that she changed her mind completely?

You caught in the corner of your eye the sight of Hana absentmindedly playing with the ring on her finger and you decided it was now or never, you had to ask her or you will never be able to muster up the courage.

“What about Taehyung?” It seemed out of the blue, vocalized so suddenly but deep down it wasn’t. And Hana knew that. Her fingers ever so slightly tightened around the ring and then pulled away. “Does he know you’re staying?”

She didn't visibly flinched, didn’t scrunch her eyebrows or purse her lips, didn’t protest. Maybe it was because she had been taught how not to show any emotions, maybe it was because she didn’t want to show any emotions at all. Her face was blank when she spoke, eyes distant and thoughts probably far away from the small space of the car.

“Taehyung recently got a role in some new Netflix series. One of the main roles actually, so it's going to take him some time to finish recording.” she said, not answering the question and she was well aware of it. It was right there on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated. Maybe the realization was too much to handle for her.

“So he seems to enjoy his stay in America,” you trailed off, watching as Hana smiled lightly but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah," she nodded. “He is.”

And that was enough of an answer for you.

You had been watching Hana falling for Taehyung for solid two years since she had left grey streets of Seoul to drown in Californian paradise. They met in acting school and got the scholarship together. The most divine, the most talented students the school had. Somehow over the thousands of kilometers of homesickness they started dating. And you were happy, you couldn’t be more glad seeing your beat friend chasing her dreams with a person who cared about her by her side. But the news about engagement few months ago had come as a shock to you, although you had not said anything. Hana's smile when she had showed you the ring had been enough to convince you of her happiness.

Right now, sitting by her side and listening to her talking about it so emotionless, so blankly, you were sure that in every single Hollywood fantasy there was a crack.

“So, here we are.”

After opening the doors to your apartment there was a slight pause, before you spoke again. “I know it's nothing special but for that price and in location so close to my uni I couldn’t find anything better. It's small but–”

“Can you please stop rumbling for a second?” Hana interrupted you abruptly. She was literally standing in the door with the suitcase still in her hand because you didn't let her in any further. “I told you it's okay. You allowed me to stay here even though there's barely enough space here for one person.”

“But still, the bathroom is like the smallest I have ever seen... Oh, and there's a soy sauce stain on the wall in kitchen because I still haven’t figure out how to remove it and–”

The door banged loudly and you jumped from the sudden noise.

“What the fuck! You know how easily I get scared!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest, calming your rapidly beating heart.

Hana shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve had enough of your stupid complaining. Now, show me where will I sleep beacuse I feel like passing out any second now.” She placed her suitcase on the floor, taking off her coat and kicking off her boots.

When you were living together as roommates, Hana was the one who organized the chores and yelled at you after making a mess and not cleaning up. She had been doing it as a matter of habit even during her absence.

“Sleep, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, shrugging off your coat as well. “Technically there’s no second bed here but you’re going to sleep here,” you explained, pointing out at the small sofa that was standing in a place you called ‘living room' just because it was connected directly to the kitchen. Beside the sofa, it consisted of the lamp and a tiny glass table where usually was a mess of your belongings but right now it was all cleaned and polished.

Hana slumped down on the sofa, closing her eyes. “God, I missed that. There was some yelling kid on the plane and their parents couldn’t shut them up,” She sighed tiredly. “Now I can nap for the rest of the day. And night.”

You bit your lip, looking at her slumped body. Today was Saturday, the day of Hoseok's band concert you had been invited to and you still didn't prepare your outfit or, what was the most important, for the whole week you hadn’t messaged Hana about the fact that she was, in fact, invited too. You felt guilty asking your freshly out of twelve hours long flight friend to come with you but you had no choice.

“Hana,” you started and it already sounded pleading, not casual. She cracked one eye open. She knew when you had some buisness to her and it seemed like that now. “I know you’re tired, jet lagged and all but what would you say to a power six hours nap and going to a punk rock concert tonight with me?” you blurted out quickly.

Hana opened her eyes completely and now was looking at you dumbfounded expression on her face. “What?” she stammered out.

You moved to sit next to her on a sofa and took a deep breath. “So here's the thing. You know I work at the dance school now right?” you began and Hana nodded slowly. “I met a guy there. He teaches kids hip-hop. His name is Hoseok and he actually isn't only a dancer, he's also a drummer. And it might sound stupid but he plays in a band too,” you explained, avoiding her burning gaze you could feel on your skin. However, if you looked in her direction, you would see the soft smile adoring Hana's features. “We kinda started hanging out about a month ago and recently he invited me to his band's concert. And I really want to go but I thought you could accompany me cause I don't wanna be there alone all the time so, yeah.” you trailed off sheepishly.

There was a bit of silence and you were waiting for Hana to scold you but instead you received reaction you weren’t expecting at all.

“You’re dating some guy and you didn’t tell me?!” Hana bursted out. She had a mixture of disbelief and probably a little bit of betrayal written across her face.

You held your arms up in defending pose. “We aren’t dating!” you protested, scandalized someone could ever put words dating and Hoseok's name next to yours. “It's just some casual hanging out after work, just friends. Friends.” you repeated.

Hana rolled her eyes at that. She knew you better than you would like to admit but she decided not to tease you about it any further. “So, is he hot? He must be, he's a drummer after all and they are hot in theory,” She wiggled her eyebrows, nudging you with her elbow while you groaned in frustration.

“If that will make you happy, yes, he is good looking,” you sighed. There was a tiny bit of blush covering your cheeks. “But as I said, we’re just friends!” you emphasized the word again, looking at Hana intensely like you were trying to embed it in her brain so she wouldn't think something else.

“Will you go with me then? Please? I need emotional support.” you pouted. “Besides you owe me for letting you stay here.” you added and it might have been a little unfair move to maake but you didn’t care about that.

Hana sighed heavily, like she was really contemplating the decision even though she had made it a while ago, just to keep you in suspense for a little longer. She fought and urge to ask about said emotional support while Hoseok was only a friend and instead she nodded her head.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said, lifting her index finger before you could crash her body in a hug. “But I need to take this nap first.”

You grinned at her. “Thank you, thank you,” you kept mumbling, cuddling her body tightly against her protests.

“Now lemme wash and sleep.” Hana grumbled in annoyed tone but you knew she wasn’t mad at you at all. Deep down, even after layers of well trained, measured actions she had a good heart.

“Punk’s not dead? What kind of name for a band is this?”

You were standing before the door to the bar, side by side, watching as different people, mainly young, were passing you and coming inside. Hana eyed the pink poster that said ‘Free entrance!’ with her arms crossed over chest.

“That's the name for the punk rock band.” you said with a glint of annoyance in your voice, not even sure why somehow affected by your friend's words. You liked the name, it wasn’t obvious and sounded catchy. For you at least.

Hana snorted. “I hope they are worth my jet lagged self that I’m sacrificing here for you.” she sighed, averting her gaze from the poster hanging on the window and pushing the door inside.

The bar, Dionysus, was Namjoon's brother’s property, as Hoseok had explained to you. They played their mini concerts here since they had met, actually gaining money from this because the owner was letting them take some part of the earnings from alcohol buying. Also, there was always a small box on the bar counter where people could throw their money inside if they wanted to support the group directly.

Inside, there was a respectable amount of people already standing before the stage where everything seemed to be set up, except for the actual band members that weren't present, apparently hiding at the ‘backstage’ until their main entrance. You spotted drums standing at the back of the stage and you suddenly felt not so sure of yourself.

“There's a whole stage here? Geez, they didn't come to play,” Hana wheezed to herself, taking in the surroundings. “Do you want to drink something first?” she whispered into your ear.

You glanced at your phone to check time before answering. “I don’t know. I kind of want to be by the stage when they start playing.”

Hana nudged your side. “Relax, I will push my way through those girls in leather skirts for you. Come on, let's warm up a little.”

You looked in the direction of the stage once again but eventually gave up, letting her drag you to the bar. Maybe the drink wasn’t a bad idea. You didn't quite know if you could survive the evening completely sober.

The tall, handsome looking bartender smiled at you cheekily when you sat with Hana by the bar.

“What can I get for the lovely ladies?” he asked, eyeing you both misheviously.

“What do you recommend?” Hana leaned her head on the hand, smiling at the man as well.

“I could make you my absolute speciality: Aphrodite’s nectar.” the bartender suggested.

“Go on, surprise us.” Hana said, earning a confident smirk from the man before he turned around to make your drinks. She rolled her eyes, pulling a few bills from her purse and throwing them to the self made money box with ‘Thank you for the support – Punk's not dead’ caption.

“I could pay for myself, you know,” you muttered under your breath but loud enough for Hana to hear.

“Shh, don't say anything and let me support your friend with a generous tip before the actual show. Hope they’re worth it.” Upon her words, the bartender handed you your drinks with “Here you go.” followed by the cocky grin.

Hana frowned when she saw pinkish liqueur poured to the vodka-size glass. “Seriously? This is his speciality? Pink coloured vodka? Isn’t that supposed to be called sex on the beach?” she scoffed and drank the substance in one go, flinching after she swallowed. “I've had better.” she commented dryly.

You followed her actions, drinking up the alcohol as well. You coughed a few times before you asked, “Can we go now?” It sounded like a childlike pleading but you didn’t care.

Hana nodded after exhaling loudly and you both made your way to the stage, like she had said earlier – pushing through the crowd of other people. There were shouts of swears and insults thrown at you from every side but Hana didn’t give a fuck, practically dragging you by your hand while you were muttering quick apologies to every single girl in leather skirt.

When you reached very front of the stage, Hana grinned at you. “See? Told you we’ll be in first row. God, I haven’t been to punk concert for a very long time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You've been to a punk concert before?” you asked, confused with her words. Hana seemed to be taken aback by this question, like she just realised she had said something she hadn't indent to.

“Yeah. In high school. Like I said, long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you–” you started but immadietly stopped, when the lights went out followed by the oooh! from gathered people. “Oh my God it's happening,” you half-whispered, clutching Hana's hand.

“Youjust referred to The Office without watching it.”

“Shut up!” you muttered, ignoring Hana's giggle.

Next thing you knew, sharp lights shimmered and few, firsts accords of electric guitar resonated through the bar. You absentmindedly squeezed Hana's hand tighter. Then, more lights flashed, along with the thumbing sound of drums and the whole stage illuminated with bright, silver colors.

You didn't even realise you were holding your breath the entire time. You eventually got back to your senses when one of the boys started singing an unknown to you song, probably self-written by them. His hair was pink and you recognized him as Jimin, remembering the photo Hoseok had sent you where he had captioned everyone. Jimin was leaning towards the micstand lazily, like he was purposely doing it this way. His guitar was dropped on his back nonchalantly.

Next was Jungkook, the youngest in the group. His mop of black hair was nodding along to the rhythm of the music, his eyes and attention solemnly focused on his guitar. He didn’t wear any jacket and his muscles on ink-covered arms flexed with his every move.

On the other side of the stage stood Namjoon, the one who Hoseok lived with and referred as the leader of the group. He also had some tattoos on his forearms but not as many as Jungkook. He smiled lightly at the crowd when someone shouted his name, showing the tiniest of dimples on his cheeks.

And there it was the last member. Hoseok.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You had seen him dancing a few times before in Just Dance, ever so passionate but this was different kind of passion. He was fierce, completely devoted to what he was playing, hitting the notes like his life depended on it. He didn’t had any tattoos adoring his skin and his ears weren’t pierced like his friends' but he had an exeptional energy in him, power that he emphasized with every move, every tap of his drumsticks. For you, he was the most divine of them all, the brightest spot on the stage. A born performer, flesh and bones.

The song was catchy, something quite similar to the ones Hoseok had sent you after many ‘pretty pleases' from you. Jimin and Jungkook's voices were blending together just fine and you found yourself bopping to the rhythm of the music until you felt Hana's hand on your shoulder. You turned around in her direction with a smile that quickly disappeared when you saw her expression. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Even in the dimmed lighting you could distingiush she was paler than before.

She leaned towards your ear and half-yelled, trying to outshot the crowd, “I need to get some fresh. I don't feel well.”

You looked at her with worriedly. “I'll go with you,” you declared but Hana stopped you.

“No, stay here,” she protested firmly. “Enjoy the show. I'll wait for you outside until it's over.”

“You sure?” you asked, earning a nodd from her along with a light smile that didn’t look much convincing but before you could say anything else, Hana was making her way through sweaty, bouncing bodies again. You watched anxiously as her blonde hair disappeared between the mass of nameless people and then, the song was over. You released a long breath and glanced at the stage.

Namjoon took the mic and tapped on it a few times. “Ehm, hi. We're Punk's not dead, as you know probably,” he chuckled lightly, making you smile, despite the uneasy feeling in your chest about Hana. “I'm Namjoon and I’m the leader of the group. I thought it could be nice if I introduce everyone before we start so... here we go. On the left, there's Jimin,” He pointed at the pink-haired man and audience, mainly female attendants, cheered loudly. Jimin smirked lopsidedly.

Namjoon continued, “Next there's Jungkook,” The youngest lifted his head and smiled boyishly in bunny-like manner, scrunching his nose in process. He looked familiar, you thought to yourself. Strange.

“And, our amazing drummer: Hoseok!” Namjoon presented and you screamed upon hearing Hoseok's name before you could realise what on Earth you were doing. Hoseok stood up from his seat and grinned broadly, waving to the crowd. Then, miraculously, his eyes landed on you and if that was even possible, his smile visible widened. You thanked whatever gods that existed he couldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed.

“Thank you for coming here today. I hope you'll have a great time,” Namjoon said. “And now, we are going to play our new song called Cigarettes after sex*, written and self-composed by Jimin. Enjoy.” he finished, nodding to his friends.

The song was beautiful, it carried the lash of melancholy and sadness behind every single word that Jimin sang and he visibly felt it too, making it seem even more real by the sheer emotions of heartache written on his beautiful features.

They played a few more songs after that one, some of them were covers of the bands you were familiar with thanks to Hoseok and his signature t-shirts. Before you could blink an eye, it was over and Namjoon was thanking everyone one more time for coming and then they disappeared behind the black curtains after receiving a loud applause for their performance.

You stayed like that for a while, still basking in aftermath of everything that had just happened, humming to yourself some melody from one of the songs you had heard tonight. You turned your back to the stage, watching other people leaving the bar. Lost in your own world, you definitely didn’t hear footsteps behind you.

“Did you enjoy your time, princess?”

You jumped in your place, twirling to the direction of the voice you knew so damn well. Hoseok was smirking at you while crouching down on the stage. His friends were also there, behind him, packing their stuff.

When you calmed down your breathing enough, you shouted, “What the fuck, Hoseok?! I told you to not do things like that to me!”

He only chuckled in response, smiling cockily at the furious flush on your cheeks. “I asked you a question,” he reminded.

What was it? Ah, right, he asked about the concert. You pursued lips, crossing your arms over chest. You wanted to say it was showstopping, spectacular and all those adjectives Lady Gaga had used in that famous meme video of hers but you didn’t.

“It was decent.”

A smirk appeared on Hoseok's face. “Decent, huh? Wouldn't say so, after seeing you cheering so loudly in first row,” he teased. ‘’I'm flattered. I’ve never had such devoted fan of myself.”

He thought that pink blush which colored your cheeks was cute. Fuck, you were cute, trying to cover your embarrassment with an unamused expression.

“I cheered for your friends, you know? Not you.” you mocked but it was pointless, he was already standing up from his position, knowing what was the truth.

“Come on, let's go to the backstage,” He made quotation mark on the word backstage while saying it. You grimaced. “There’s nice after party setting up there,” he tried again, this time pouting slightly and you eventually gave up. You had promised you would come, after all. Hoseok grinned when you followed his footsteps, walking to the supply base at the back of the bar.

“Jungkookie!" Hoseok shouted before he twisted the knob, whirling around for a quick moment. Jungkook lifted his head up in Hoseok's direction. “Don't forget to close the door when you finish packing!”

The youngest member nodded, going back to his previous work.

Beside you and Hoseok's bandmates, inside the ‘backstage’ was the same handsome bartender from earlier, Namjoon's brother as you assumed, and a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair that stood next to Namjoon, leaning into his body. He had his arms wrapped around her, talking to his brother about something. She introduced herself as Minhee, Namjoon's girlfriend, extending her hand to you in friendly gesture when you approached them with Hoseok.

“Oh, we met before, by the bar. I’m Seokjin, the owner of this lovely place.” Namjoon's brother, Seokiin, said, shaking your hand.

“Hyung, you can't give it a miss, can you,” Namjoon grumbled behind his back but Seokjin ignored him. That wasn’t probably the first time he flexed about owning a bar, you thought to yourself.

“How did you like the concert, darling?” Seokjin asked you suddenly.

You rushed to reply. “Oh, it was really nice! I’ve never been to anything like that before but I enjoyed it very much.” you responded. Hoseok muttered something about you being a liar under his breath but you acted like you didn’t hear him. “I really liked the second song, the slow one.” you added, averting your gaze to Jimin who was sitting with his head bowed down in front of the vodka bottle.

Seokjin patted him on the shoulder. “Yah, did you hear that Jimin-ah? You’ve got a fan of your sad songs here!” he said, breaking into laughter but Namjoon stopped him by sending his brother a warning look. Jimin though barely even acknowledged his or your words, lifting his head up for a brief moment and eyeing your figure without any emotion on his face. Then he got back to the glass of alcohol again, pouring the substance into his mouth in one go.

“He broke up with his girlfriend like six months ago or something and still hasn’t quite move on,” Hoseok whispered into your ear. You let out an “Oh,”, sending one last apologetic smile to Jimin, even though he wasn’t looking at you at all.

Hoseok motioned you to sit by the table with others and you positioned yourself between Namjoon's girlfriend and Hoseok. The only absent person seemed to be Jungkook who was probably still fumbling with packing their stuff.

The conversation was oscillating around the concert. Hoseok mentioned that the audience had been much bigger than the last time and Namjoon kept babbling about some technical issue with his guitar that you couldn’t understand.

“Don't worry. I've been with him for three years and I still know shit about what he's talking about too," Minhee said to you, probably after seeing your clueless expression. You both bursted out into laughter.

You were supposed to ask her how had she and Namjoon had met but Seokjin interrupted you, walking in with a bottle of champagne.

“Where the hell is this kid Jungkook?” he grumbled. Hoseok quickly explained he was packing their stuff on stage when he last had seen him. Seokjin hummed and placed the bottle on the table. “And what about your blonde friend, darling?” he directed next question to you.

You froze in place.

Holy shit. You completely forgot about Hana.

You didn’t respond to Seokjin, so he assumed you hadn’t heard him and went back to opening the champagne bottle.

You pulled out your phone from the pursue and cried out in mortification after seeing the messages.

[22:11pm] Hana: I was at mcdonalds across the street lol im heading to the bar now

[22:11pm] Hana: come up for me please

[22:15pm] Hana: ???

10 minutes ago.

“Fuck!” you muttered under your breath, frantically typing a response.

“Is everything ok?” Hoseok asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head. “I forgot to come up for my friend after the concert. She wasn’t feeling well so she left and stayed outside.” you hastily explained, already standing up from your seat, clutching your phone in hand. Hoseok followed after you.

You pushed the door open, although the sight you saw behind them wasn’t anything you could ever expected. The surprised words escaped Hoseok's and your mouth simultaneously.

“Hana?”

“Jungkook?”

They stood facing each other, looking like they were interrupted by you mid conversation, probably in too close proximity for people supposed to be strangers. Hana's astonished face leaned out from behind Jungkook's tall body in the direction of the voices. Slowly, like she didn’t expect to be caught this way. And that was weird, beacuse she looked like she didn’t want to be seen in Jungkook's presence by the others, like their close proximity was something that shouldn't have been acknowledged.

Jungkook turned around as well, however ever so recultanty. And then, when you saw his face clearly now, jet-black hair and inked arms, it all crashed you like a wave. That was why he seemed to look so familiar. You knew him, maybe not personally, but you knew who he was. The boy from Hana's photograph she had pinned to her cork board when you had been living together. A beach with crystal blue sea behid their backs, the same boy yet with less tattoos than now, carrying your friend on his back, both grinning to the camera like it had been the happiest moment of their lives. Until one day Hana was gone and so was the photograph.

You felt like you were interrupting something too intimate for you to step in with your shoes like that. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Hoseok helped you out instead. And you thanked him for that mentally because you weren’t sure of your mouth anymore.

“Looks like your friend is safe and sound.”

Hana snapped out of her previous shocked haze upon hearing his words and automatically composured herself. She took a few meassured steps away from Jungkook. Gone was the slight shock on her face, she was back to her calmed persona. “Yeah, I'm all good. I was about to text you I’m going home.” she said, her words directed to you. She then exchanged quick glances with Jungkook, glances that could look the simplest from other people’s perspective but not for you.

Hoseok though, fortunately, didn’t seem to feel something was apparently off here. It was for the better he thought like that. “So you won't stay to celebrate with us?” he asked Hana.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He was still standing there, unsure of what to do

Hana shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m still tired and jet-lagged from my flight so I will just wish you great time and go.”

“You sure? I can go with you too, if you want,” you suggested after containing yourself enough to finally vocalize some thoughts. But Hana only smiled at you. Forcefully, which didn’t miss your attention.

“It's okay. I want you to have fun. I already called a cab for myself anyway” she reassured.

Hoseok protested. “Someone could drive you home. I’m sure Jungkook wouldn't mind–”

“It's fine, really.” Hana said firmly and you knew by the clench of her fists she was slowly losing her patience. At the same time, Jungkook's eyes flickered ever so slightly after hearing his hyung's words and then went back to his previous unreadable stare.

Seeing Hoseok opened his mouth to protest, you took his wrist, hoping he would take the hint and not add anything more.

“I must really go now. Take care of Y/N and have fun.” Hana smiled politely, looking at Hoseok and he reciprocated the gesture. She didn’t really acknowledge Jungkook at all, even though he had somehow his gaze fixated on her the whole time. But Hana did that all pursposelly, so Hoseok couldn’t suspect anything. She wasn’t stupid after all. Well crafted actress knew how to act.

She came up to you, hugging you briefly. “We'll talk tomorrow.” she whispered into your ear because she knew that you couldn’t be fooled so easily, that you felt something was not right from the very beginning since she had announced her comeback from the States.

Hana waved one last time to you, exiting the bar. You could swear Jungkook's eyes lingered on her figure a little too long to be considered unbothered, until he turned around and went back to the stage. You prayed Hoseok wasn’t going to ask him what had he been talking about with Hana or why did he even decide to approach her like that.

“Come on. Let's go back. Jungkookie will close the door.” Hoseok said instead.

You listened, letting him take your wrist and walk to the supply base for the second time tonight. You wondered for a moment if Jungkook was going to chase after Hana, but you shook your mind from those thoughts. It wasn’t your life to make decisions and judge them.

A little while after you sat on your seat again, Jungkook came back as well and you somehow felt the rush of relief swimming through your whole body. He slumped down next to Jimin on the couch and said something to him you couldn't make out exactly, but pink-haired man laughed bitterly at that, filling his best friend's glass to the brim.

Next two hours you spent there passed like a blurr. You kept talking with Namjoon's girlfriend practically the whole time. You found out Minhee was studying medicine and she had met Namjoon through some discussion club she had joined in her freshman year. It had been attraction from the first disagreement, as she described it cheekily.

When Namjoon called for Minhee to talk about something on the side, you averted your attention to Hoseok who was sitting in front of his empty glass and scrolling through the phone, clearly discontent with you intentionally avoiding his attempts to tease you about something you had said, or avoiding him in general.

“Aren't you drinking anything?” you asked him with raised eyebrows.

Hoseok snorted. “Someone has to drive you home, princess.”

“Bullshit. I can take the cab.”

“Well then, I don’t feel like drinking anyway.”

You eyed him carefully and then it hit you. “Oh my God,” you blurted out, trying to stifle the giggles blubbering in your throat. “You are not drinking because you are a lightweight!” you accused, not even hiding your amusement now.

“That's not true,” Hoseok grumbled but his red ears gave him away. He was a bad liar.

You pushed his chest with your index finger. “Admit it!”

Hoseok looked at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “Fine, I am. And what about it?”

You giggled. It was probably some champagne mixed with wine you had drank with Minhee speaking through you but you didn’t falter when you said, “Nothing at all. That's cute.”

Hoseok frowned. “Cute?”

“Yeah, cute. You're cute when you're flustered.”

Hoseok parted his lips in both disbelief and annoyance because relatively speaking, you took it out from his mouth. It was his remark, for God's sake, he was the one supposed to say things like that to you. He hadn't drunk even a drop except one, symbolic glass of champagne yet he wanted to argue with you about it like five years old child. Because if anything, you were prettier and yes, cuter than him, and he had a sudden urge to spell it out for you.

Yet he faltered for a moment after hearing abrupt glass crashing from the other corner of the room. You looked in that direction too, seeing half-conscious Jimin slumped down on the couch, Jungkook sitting next to him and saying things to him you didn’t hear. You could make out only “hyung” and “please, calm down” falling from younger's mouth.

Jimin seemed like he had no idea about what was going on around him. When he opened his eyes for a moment they were bloodshot and glassy, probably from too much alcohol he had drank before, or maybe even from something else entirely. Then he murmured something to Jungkook and black-haired boy sighed, standing up from his position and approaching Namjoon and Minhee furiously talking about something in the far corner of the room.

“Here we go again,” Hoseok breathed next to you and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing your attention on the scene in front of you.

“Hyung, please–”

“No, Jungkook. We can't do that again.”

“Please, I swear it's the last time. He won't let me take him home unless it's with her,” Jungkook pleaded. “It'll worsen anytime soon. I don't want to see him like this."

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think I don't know that Jungkook?! Last time was supposed to be last. And now it's happening again. We can’t continue it like this,” he said, looking in Jimin's direction where Seokjin was trying now to convince him to let go of the half empty vodka bottle Jimin was clutching tightly to his chest.

“Hyung...”

“Stop arguing. I already texted her like 20 minutes ago when I heard he started talking about her again. She's on her way,” Minhee interrupted. “But this has to end. He–they can’t live like that.” she said and Jungkook breathed out heavily with relief, thanking her over and over.

Hoseok hummed next to you, making you jump slightly on your seat from the sudden sound so close in your proximity. “What's happening?” you asked him and he let out a long sigh.

“I don't think you want to see that. I should take you home.”

But before you could answer, someone banged loudly on the back door. Seokjin moved from his seat and opened them, letting inside a girl around your age, dressed in all black. Her hair was dyed in red and she didn’t have any make up on, assuming by the ungodly hour she might have been woken up or she hadn't gone to bed at all.

“Who’s that?” you whispered to Hoseok’s ear.

“That's Nari,” he answered simply, like her name was carrying all the needed information without giving into other details. “Jimin's ex girlfriend and probably the only source of light in his life.”

Nari moved automatically, like it definitely wasn’t the first time she was in similar situation. She crunched down on the floor in front of Jimin's slumped body and touched his thigh lightly, murmuring his name. Jimin's eyes snapped open at that and he blinked a few times, focusing on the sight before him, like he couldn't actually believe she was there, with him, like his head was messing with him and betraying the bloodshot eyes.

“Nari,” he muttered and it sounded unsure, pained. “You're here. You came.”

“Yes, I’m here.” she replied with a soft smile, standing up to sit next to him on the couch.

Jimin's hands reached for her, cupping her face in his shaky palms, thumbs stroking rosy cheeks, checking if she was really here, flesh and blood. “You dyed your hair,” he said softly with croaked voice, putting a strand behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”

It all felt too intimate for you, like you were stepping into a scene you weren’t suppose to be in. You quickly averted your gaze somewhere else. In the corner of your eye you spotted Jungkook looking at what was happening in front of him with blank expression. He had seen it probably many times before, after all. Suddenly, strangled sobs echoed through the room and everyone involuntarily snapped their heads into direction of it.

Nari was hugging Jimin's shaking body, rocking him back and forth as he cried out words into the material of her jacket.

“Please, don't leave me.”

“I won't. I’m here. It's okay,” she kept murmuring to his ear until his breath slowed down enough so she could say, “Let's go home.”

She motioned for Jungkook and he obliged, helping her lift Jimin's limp body from the couch like he weighted nothing. They left without a word, just like that, and heavy silence fell in the room. No one was in right mood to continue celebrating, not after everything that they had just witnessed.

Namjoon was the first one to break the silence. “We will be going. It's been a long day.” he said, placing his hand on Minhee's waist.

“Indeed.” Seokjin agreed. “I’m gonna go upstairs to my place too. I’ll clean up in the morning.”

Hoseok also stood up from his seat, putting his palm on your shoulder. “Come on. It's time for us too.”

You nodded, rushing to bid everyone goodbyes.

Outside, in the middle of the night, where all the demons had left humans bodies making them vulnerable for the bracketing world, you took Hoseok's hand in yours. It was warm, despite the coldness of the air.

“What would you say if we took a walk by the river? I need to clear my mind.”

The puffs of air around your face when you spoke were telling you it was a bad idea, but Hoseok smiled in response.

“I’ll lead the way.”

Long walks by the river were meant for warm summer nights when sun set lately and rose in the very morning before you could blink an eye open. They were meant for the steamy nights, when people didn’t have to worry about the coldness, when they could wander under the starry sky with bare shoulders and heavy eyelids.

October absolutely wasn’t reasonable time for the walks in the middle of the night but this time he weather was kind, merciful. There was no sight of the frost and even though it wasn’t the most pleasant aura, even though hands had to be tucked deep in pockets of the jackets, everything could be bearable.

Maybe somehow, when you reached that point in your life, circumstances stopped being the most crucial, as long as you were with the right person.

Boulevards by the Han River were common spot for the citizens and tourists but not in this time of the year, not when fall was threatening everyone as a trailer of the winter. Colorful lights illuminating themselves on the surface of the water were always the same, no matter which part of the year it was; always mesmerizing, always spectacular even for the people seeing them every single day.

This night however, they seemed to shine not as bright as the stars.

“I feel bad for Jimin and this girl,” you said, breathing out the puffs of air in the process. It had been silent between you and Hoseok since you had left the disaster of a party until this very moment, when you finally gathered up enough courage and inhaled cold air to clear your mind and vocalize your thoughts. “Do you know why did they break up?” you asked Hoseok.

“I don't know the details, just overall,” he answered, keeping his gaze ahead of him. “The only person who knows the truth is probably Jungkook but he had never told us anything.”

You hummed, digging your fists into the pocket of your jacket deeper.

Hoseok continued after a while. “I didn’t lie when I said she was the only source of light for Jimin. Beside her and music, he has nothing to cling onto in his life. There's no Jimin without music. Always has been.”

The images from the previous hours shimmered behind your eyelids. Jimin onstage, feeling himself, singing like he wanted to burn his throat dry, playing the guitar like he wished his fingers grated on the strings. A fierce passion in his eyes, as if he wasn't doing it out of the habit; losing himself in the drumming rhythm because that was his only ability. Then you saw the energy slowly draining away from his body, you saw a broken man, vulnerable to the world he had never had any intention to care about, now caring about him.

You wondered about the others. Was music their one true love and burden?

“What about your friends then? Is music really that important for them too?”

Hoseok thought about an answer for a little while until he decided to respond. “Jungkook grew up with Jimin in the same hometown. Childhood friends, always sticking together through ups and downs, younger doing exactly the same after the older. Jimin always took care of Jungkook and now Jungkook is watching by Jimin.”

You let your mind wander for a moment to Hana. How did she meet Jungkook? There was no doubt they knew each other before she had become your roommate. Did she know Jimin too, if they were raised in the same town? Another couple of questions you were yet to ask but this could wait for now.

“The band and music it's their whole life. They aren't like Namjoon, level-headed with actual plans after he finishes his law studies. Music is just a hobby he's going to put off once he's out of uni.” Hoseok added and there was some sadness about the way he did it, like they were another words at the tip of his tongue he wouldn't dare to say aloud because when unspoken, they hurt less.

“And you?”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Who am I talking to?” you sassed lightly. “How do you see yourself in three years from now?” you asked and Hoseok chuckled the same way he did when you questioned him about it a month ago in Blue Side. Bitterly.

You motioned for him to sit on one of the benches standing by the boulevards.

“Do you have everything planned for the next three years?” Hoseok countered instead of actually answering you. He waited for you to roll your eyes but you did the exact opposite.

“Well, my mum always tells me that it's good to set up your goals. Even though sometimes you might disappoint yourself when they turn out all wrong.”

Hoseok chuckled. “There's a ballerina speaking through you, princess. And motivational speaker, too.”

“Maybe, but that's not my point,” you fired back, twirling around on the bench so you could sit cross-legged in front of him. “So, Jung Hoseok, hip-hop choreographer wanna be and passionate drummer, will you tell me what are your plans for the future?” you asked again. When you saw him hesitate, you added, ‘”Come on, pretend it's like our 100 questions game. I asked you a question and you shall answer.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. “I think I told you once that I just live the moment,”

“But everyone has some dreams,” you complained. Go on, tell me something boy, are you happy in this modern world,” you sing-songed, breaking into loud laughter in the process that made him chuckle shortly.

Hoseok stared for a few seconds blankly into the calm surface of the river before him, watching as colorful lights changed from blue to green. Sadness blending into hope. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Remember when I told you I had moved to Seoul to attend dance school there?” You nodded. “And how I told my parents I was going to study business really hard so they could allow me to learn dancing?” Another nod. “Well, my parents were never quite fond of my passions. First it was drums but they knew from the beginning I treated it more like a hobby than a future career, so they let me do it. Then dancing came. I found something I really wanted to pursue in my life and they, how to put this, never quite accepted my choice.” he said, looking at his hands folded on his lap.

You had never seen him more uneasy, the smiling Hoseok who teased you and and spoke about music with glint in his eyes was long gone and you didn't like this version of him at all.

“You know, I’ve got an older sister. She was-is the apple of my parents eyes. The better child, the best daughter they could ever imagine. She studied abroad, speaks English and Japanese, has a well paid job that makes her afford a nice apartment in Seoul on her own. They wanted me to be like her too, but I guess I never came up to their expectations.” The words he never willed to tell, slipped from his mouth just like that, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

There was a sadness coming from his voice and you found yourself wishing you could swipe it off his face because it didn’t suit him, because gone was Hoseok that made you laugh and played his drums like his life depended on it. Hoseok who conveyed his fierce passion for dancing to the kids he was teaching. All the layers he was putting on every day were slowly slipping off him.

And in that moment you thought how unfair this world was. Your parents gave you wings to fly, to make your dreams come true but his parents were trying to cut them off his whole life.

“I went to the university so I could finally please them, so they would say: ‘Hoseok-ah, we’re so proud of you!’ but I eventually realised it's not for me. That I can't live like this. I met Namjoon, then the rest of the boys. We made a team and I've never felt more free,” Hoseok confessed and for the first time this night, he looked you in the eyes honestly, deeply. “So if you asked me, what's my dream, I would say I just want to be happy. I’ve never wanted to be the best. I just wish I was doing what I love the most, dancing and music.”

You opened your mouth to say something but he raised his hand, stopping you. “If you want to pity me, don’t. I don’t need this.” he said, but it was your turn to shake your head.

“No, I want to say something,” you firmly protested. You lifted your index finger up, pointing at the blackboard sky. There was determination in your voice, a need to convince this boy he was worth much more than he thought. “See those stars? There are literally millions of them on the sky, looking exactly the same from our perspective yet we all admire them. And I’ll tell you more. Every single one is different, special on its own terms,” you said, all the time beating the air with your hands. You ignored the way Hoseok stared at you with raised eyebrows and continued, “Now think about the sun. Yes, it is the biggest star, giant thing and the centre of our solar system but it’ll burn your eyes if you look at it for too long. Those significant stars won't do it and we all wish our dreams to come true while looking at them falling, not at the sun.”

A small smile appeared on Hoseok's face and you reciprocated that, sighing softly. “What I’m trying to say is that you don't have to be the greatest to be admired and respected. You are your own star.” you trailed off, almost whispering the last words like you were afraid of vocalizing them.

You were staring into each other eyes for a whole minute, before you got insecure and looked away with flushed cheeks. “I'm sorry. That was my probably still a little drunk self speaking, don’t mind me. Hana would say it is also my zodiac sign's personality trait.” You put your hands on your cheeks, finding them warm from embarrassment despite the coldness of the night.

If you glanced in Hoseok's direction, you would see him grinning broadly. Who was this girl, he had no idea. He just felt she was going to be someone special for him. His own green flashlight illuminating on the clear surface of the water.

“No, it's okay. I really appreciate that. Thank you.” he said, making you hesitantly turned to face him with raised eyebrows.

“You're welcome. I guess.”

“So,” Hoseok drawled, pointing his chin at you and then on the sky. “How do stars align tonight for Aquariuses?” he asked out of the blue. You thanked it was the middle of the night, so he couldn’t witness the way you furiously blushed.

“Why don't you look for yourself?” you whispered, staring up at the dark, starry sky.

But why would he look at the stars, if for him all of them hid in your eyes?

At some point, next weeks turned into a blurr while gloomy November was approaching, blending everything into grey reality. Life seemed to move on its own and it could be thought that things went back to normal again but deep down, behind set up facades, there was so much more left unspoken than revealed, lying bare and exposed on the table.

You balanced your life between classes at the university, ballet rehearsals after hours and doing your part time job on weekends. With the midterm exams getting closer and closer, you somehow still managed to find time to hang out with Hoseok.

It was weird for you, to spend so much of your free time drinking coffees at Blue Side, eating ramen after practices on Fridays or just listening to him babbling about some other hilarious story involving him and his friends as you walked together to the underground station, with your hand in his under the umbrella, referencing to Rihanna's song probably too many times than necessary.

And normally, looking at you from afar and up close, seeing the intimacy you shared in your stares and muffled laughters, someone could swear you were already dating, that this hanging out carried so much more meaning than you would like to admit. But for some reason, neither Hoseok nor you wanted to speak about this aloud, to give your relationship a label much more bigger than simple friendship.

People around you noticed, obviously, it was hard not to. Some of them teased, others decided not to bring up the subject for the sake of not starting a storm in a teacup.

And life went on like that, day by day, as fall was cleaning the world from the last remains of summer, behind blurry windows a new spring was blossoming for two people.

In the middle of November Hana moved out from your appartment after composing her life enough to afford a place on her own. She got a role in a theater, doing rehearsals every weekend and keeping her mind busy with work during weekdays, because she indeed had a lot to handle since she had come back. And certain raven-haired boy being present again in her life wasn't helping in this situation at all. If anything, his position in the equation made everything much more twisted and complicated.

While your friend was burried deep in her scripts and old blurrs of memories, you were equally engulfed with paper work for your exams. You would have been probably still staring at the same pages for the whole night, if you hadn’t received a message from no one other than Jung Hoseok himself.

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: get your ass up from the couch and go out with me today

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: theres some punk rock concert today organized on the campus of YOUR uni

[18:58pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: namjoon gave me his tickets since he cant go with his gf

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: actually im surprised you didn’t tell me anything about this concert. shame on you princess

There was a string of emojis after the last text and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you read go out with me, but you eventually composed yourself. Because after all this time, you thought it meant nothing. Simple hanging out, nothing more, nothing less.

[18:59pm] me: fyi i need to study

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: come on one free night wont make a big difference

When you weren’t responding for a while, leaving him on read, he typed:

[19:03pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: pretty pleaseee

But he didn’t know you were already in the bathroom, notes long forgotten on the couch.

“They were sooo bad!”

“Hey, don’t be mean. At least they tried!”

“Oh please, I’m not punk rock expert but I know this Paradise City cover sucked.”

You were walking out of the small campus venue for the concerts, laughing until your lungs burned and cheeks hurt from smiling. The concert didn’t last long, just a few covers and one self composed song, more was actually happening right when you decided to go, leaving the ongoing party behind your backs.

“But they organized free beer. I think I might forgive them,” you added, slurring your words a little and occasionally bumping into Hoseok in the process of trying to stay steady on your feet.

Drinking wasn’t probably the smartest idea you could think of after considering two facts. One: Hoseok hadn't drunk even a sip beacuse he was driving. Two: you had an awful habit of becoming too honest under the influence. And combining those two things was like sitting on a bomb and waiting for it to explode any minute.

You sat in Hoseok’s car with heavy exhale of relief. “Remind me to never drink that much again when I have to study the next day.” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your head on the window.

“Noted.” Hoseok sat down as well, smirking to himself. He reached for the keys but your next words stopped him.

“Can we like, stay here for a while? In your car I mean.” you asked with hesitation in your voice and Hoseok's eyebrows rose high.

“Why?”

“Because it feels nice here. And maybe I don't wanna go back just yet.” The words slipped out from your mouth so casually that you didn’t even noticed the change in the atmosphere. To hell with consequences and aftermaths, to hell with becoming vulnerable when alcohol was swimming in your veins.

Hoseok smiled, even though you couldn’t see him. “Fine. But puke in here and I swear to God–”

“Geez, I hadn’t drink that much,” you snapped, opening your eyes. “Turn on some music, mister drummer. Hit me with that punk rock hits.”

Maybe you had drunk that much after all.

Hoseok chuckled to himself, opening his Spotify and connecting it to the car's radio. “What do you have in mind?”

“Do I look like an expert?” you retorted for the second time this night and Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Just put it on shuffle and I’ll tell you what I like.”

He did as he was told and soon the heavy beats of something that said Stairway to Heaven lighted up on the screen in front of you. You scrunched your eyebrows. “Stairway to Heaven, Highway to Hell, what’s next? Freeway to Purgatory?”

There was a moment of silence before you erupted into laughter. “Fuck, that was funny. Admit it.” you said, wiping the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“I'm pretty sure someone had come up with this joke before.”

“God, you’re no fun. Only intellectuals can understand this type of humor and unfortunately, you aren’t one.”

Hoseok ignored your words, changing the song and this one you recognized more than well. “Leave it!” you blurted, causing him to smirk.

“Ah, right. I forgot you’re that original,” he said in mocking tone.

Your lips turned into a scoff. “Hey, don’t disrespect Arctic Monkeys’ AM album this way. That's a masterpiece of modern discography, better than your ‘classics’ sang by old dudes. Alex Turner is hot at least.” You pointed your index finger at him accusingly. When he was about to disagree, you added, “Besides, you have this on your playlist, so don't try to bullshit me right now. You like it as well.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat. “Okay. I wanna be yours it's a nice song. I admit it.”

“Yeah. It is,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a second, basking in the moment. “I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your mouth and your heartbeat immediately quickened in panic. Fuck, had you really said that out loud? The look of pure surprise mixed with amusement on Hoseok's face were telling you that you indeed revealed that you wanted to get dicked down while Arctic Monkeys played in the background. And of all people you knew, you had to do it in his presence.

Screw your drank thoughts and fantasies, screw stupid string of fate that always played games with you, even now.

You tried to compose yourself a little, acting completely nonchalant about what had just happened. You wore a disguise of unbotherness as best you could (which was pointless, your flushed cheeks and uneasy way you squirmed on your seat said it all for you).

You wished Hoseok didn’t react, that he somehow had misheard your drunken rumbling but it was all foolish hopes.

“Careful what you wish for, princess, because you might just get it.” he whispered and you could swear his voice was lower now, it carried husskiness that weren’t there before. It wasn’t a warning.

It was a threat.

You gulped, your face heating up instantly even more, if that was possible. Suddenly it was hard to breathe in a limited space of his car and you wanted to get out, to run away from him as fast as you could muster and hide, not standing face to face with him ever again.

But at the same time you couldn’t shake off the thought how good and right would it feel if you pressed your lips against his now, run your tongue through the seam of his mouth just to hear him groan in response, just to feel his teeth nipping the skin on your neck while his fingers were digging marks on your hips.

You wanted him, oh, God how much you did, but you had to stop yourself before you made a big mistake.

The atmosphere was thick and heavy with unresolved tension, ready to snap in a minute if only someone made a wrong move. His words rang in your head and you wished you had never left your house that night in first place. Was he for real? Or had he said that only to make fun of you after?

You were too scared to look in his eyes but if you did, you would see in them the raw desire swimming in his dark orbs. And if you did, you would know just how sure of his words he actually was.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you regained your composure as best as you could and muttered, “I don't feel well. Can you drive me home now?” Your tone wasn’t probably much convincing, if anything it sounded weak and strangled, so you added to lighten up the mood, “You don't want me to puke in here, do you?” and forced out a chuckle.

Hoseok only nodded in response, reaching for the keys and turning on the engine. If he was disappointed, he hid it pretty well. After a few minutes of ride back to your home, there was mute between you, except for the music still playing from the radio. His words not even for a second left your head and you replayed them again and again just to make you more and more confused with each time you tried to understand the hidden motive behind them.

Hoseok was hard to read, you realised that since he had became strangely silent after you asked him about his plans for the future on your first coffee meeting at Blue Side. Now you knew why. He’d said he had a lot to reveal about himself yet, after all.

When you bid him short goodbye and finally reached the doors of your apartment, you crunched down on the ground after closing them and shut your eyes tightly. Somehow, tears started to ran down your face and you found yourself clutching your phone and dialing the only number you could think about in this moment.

“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” Hana's voice was hoarse, she had been woken up from her slumber without a doubt. “You know I go to sleep earlier than you,” There was a sniffle on the other line and she changed her tone immediately. “What's wrong, bub? Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” you tried to protest shakily but there was no point in denying when you sounded like that.

“What happened?” You heard Hana asking softly.

Another wave of tears jolted your body, smearing mascara all down your cheeks and when you calmed down enough to speak clearly, you mumbled, “I told Hoseok that I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

“Okay…? And how did he react?”

Another sob. “He said I should be careful what I wish for.”

There was a bit of silence before Hana sighed on the other side of the line. “That's not the end of the world. You’ve done worse things in your life.”

“But that's different this time.” you cried out hysterically.

Hana smiled to herself even though you couldn’t see her now. She knew why it was different. She was aware for a while now, but she needed you to say this out loud.

A loud cry echoed through the quiet apartment before you finally said what had been lying on the tip of your tongue for a while now.

“It's different because I think I really like him.”

And fresh fall of tears streamed down your cheeks.

---

a/n: aaaah! it’s finally here! i was supposed to post this by the end of february but my laptop got broken and i got a new one yesterday so im sorry for the delay:( i hope you like it!

ps. second part is coming in two or weeks! love you, julia. xx

#hoseok smut #bts smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #hyungsmutsociety #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts scenario #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fic #my writing

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