#MAY YOUR PILLOWS BE COLD AND YOUR PHONE FULLY CHARGED

[gettinglitculttm]

I’m gonna start crying.

Microwaved and shrunken Narilamb

Hey it's me again! attacking for no reason again. Most of these are no more than 3 or 4 cm tall...

Individual drawings under the cut

@aveloka-draws @stychu-stych @beautysnake

@runningwithscizzorz @aychama @ballad-of-the-lamb

@littl3d0ll-art @the-one-who-lambs @i-eat-deodorant

@gettinglitculttm @strawdool @z00lea

@silkysong @donutfloats @xmajordumps

@acis-arts @vurelly(sorry I didn't find a reference and I got creative) @melled42

@anuphim @myballsitchaurghouchie @chwylaven @aniimoni

Process:

[harryslittlefreakk]

we could hide away

(late night talking part 4)

Summary: when a photo of you and harry is leaked, your relationship suffers. can you manage to mend it despite hurt and miscommunication?

Warnings: pure angsty, fluffy goodness, smut (oral, f and m receiving)

A/n: thank you as always for everyone’s support on the previous parts 😭🫶🏼 it means the world to me , especially for the very idea that inspired me to start writing again! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from our babies, any requests etc in general. i don’t know how much i like this part, my head is sooo fuzzy but i wanted to get it out, so edits may be made in the next few days !!

part one

part two

part three

my masterlist can be found here!

The first thing you heard the next morning was the incessant buzzing of a phone. Notification after notification, call after call. You woke up groggy after passing out in Harry’s arms, still fully clothed on top of the duvet. A headache hit you instantly, a cruel reminder of your perfect night. Harry woke up as you peeled yourself out of his hold, stretching your arms above your head before padding over to the kitchen for some water. His eyes were glazed over, still half asleep as he reached over to shut his phone off.

Harry scrolled through the notifications silently, eyes wide as he clicked on screenshots and messages. You placed a glass of water on his nightstand, crawling back on the bed beside him and wrapping an arm around him from behind. He placed a strong hand over yours, fiddling with the giant S ring you were still wearing. “Fuck, I’m sorry baby, gotta take this,” he mumbled, voice raspy and dry, as he slid off the bed and strode out to the balcony, phone to his ear immediately.

You watched as he shut the door behind himself, placing his phone on the table as he paced around the small space, hands dragging through his messy hair. Your phone was tucked under your pillow, completely drained of battery since you hadn’t managed to charge it. You leaned over to plug it in, eyes still fixed on Harry. Whatever he was talking about, whoever he was talking to, it seemed heated. He was fiddling with anything he could find, jaw tensing up as he breathed in and out. “We can talk about this later,” he said, slamming the sliding door behind him as he re-entered the room. He marched immediately into the bathroom, banging and crashing as he went. You walked over to find him slumped over the sink, cold water dripping off the end of his nose and the point of his chin.

You had no idea how to act. You didn’t know whether to comfort him, stay out of his way, share his anger. Whatever this was, was it even any of your business? It was in your nature to comfort, however, so you walked over and placed a gentle hand on his back. “Hey,” you said softly, pushing his hair out of his face with your free hand. “What’s happened?” Harry turned around and gave you a small smile, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show you. You were totally blindsided, your mouth falling open. It was a couple of grainy pictures, Harry and you in the hotel hallway yesterday morning. You in just his robe and some socks, walking down the hallway with his hand pressed against your lower back. You walking into the room, your hands laced together. The photos were captioned:

exclusive: harry styles pictured with a mystery woman in london

He scrolled to the next screenshot, the same pictures, now captioned:

who is harry styles’ rumoured girlfriend? we’ve narrowed it down!

He continued scrolling, showing you at least 25 posts and news articles about the pictures. They were taken from behind, so it wasn’t even obvious it was him, let alone you. Even still, your perfect, private little bubble had burst. “Harry I- I didn’t even know someone was there, how did this happen?” you looked into his eyes as you spoke, searching for some kind of answer or clue as to how he felt. Just as his lips parted, his phone rang again. He listened to the voice on the other end for a few minutes, nibbling at the skin around his fingers. One strong hand pushed through his hair once the call ended, grabbing a thick fistful of curls as he threw his head back, eyes closed. Harry still hasn’t said a real word to you since he woke up, and seemed to be holding a lot back from whoever called him. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It hurt him that people sought to invade his privacy. It angered him that your relationship was at risk of being exposed because people couldn’t resist selling stories about his life. It infuriated him that he now had to spend the day dealing with his management instead of nursing a sore head with you.

Harry strode into the living room to pull his trainers on, grabbing his trademark Pleasing tote bag from a hook next to the door. He slipped sunglasses onto his head, pushing his unbrushed curls out of his face. You lingered on the opposite side of the room, arms wrapped tight around your chest. “Harry, where are y-,” you started, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as he interrupted you. “Need to sort this out. Y/n, I don’t want to ask but I need t’know. Was this anything at all to do with you?” He asked. You couldn’t believe he was pointing the finger at you. “Harry, no! No. I wouldn’t- I’d never,” you told him, hurt at the accusation. He nodded curtly, then disappeared out of the room, leaving you wounded and alone.

—

You’d decided to head to Joanie’s after Harry left, needing quality time with your best friend. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around much,” you rushed into your best friends arms as she opened her front door. She pulled you inside, thrusting a pre-made cup of tea into your arms as you slumped in the corner of her ragged sofa. “I’ve been seeing someone,” you started to explain. “He’s been here in london with me, but I think that’s all over now.” You spilled as much as you could to your best friend, twisting the story slightly to keep Harry’s identity secret.

Wiping your hands against your thighs, you stood up, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. “Do you have a lighter?,” you asked Joanie, scanning the room. You’d never particularly enjoyed smoking but it was just habit for you to have a couple of ciggies when you were sad or stressed. It started when you and Joanie were much younger, newly 18 and enjoying pubs, clubs and boys far too much. Every time one of you had your heartbroken, got rejected at the club or simply drank too much, you needed to share a pack. Now 6 years down the line, it was a dirty little secret you shared, one that Joanie’s long time boyfriend and new husband didn’t even know about.

You sat on the little brick wall outside her house, talking about your plans for the show tonight. “I want to be where we were on Tuesday,” Joanie sighed dreamily, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette. You smiled meekly in response, dreading even being in the same venue as Harry, let alone so close to him again. “Did you see he was spotted with someone?” Joanie gasped, slapping her hand down on your knee. “I wouldn’t have married Tom if I knew Harry was dating.”

“Oh yes, your marital status is the one reason he’s gone for somebody else,” you scoffed, the pair of you collapsing into each other in a fit of giggles. You were so glad you had your best friend by your side through all of this, even if you couldn’t be totally honest with her. Joanie had always been the perfect opposite to you - the smart to your silly, the rose-tint to your pessimism, the light to your dark. Or whatever way it needed to go. She always managed to oppose your views and feelings, but in a way that gave both of you exactly what you needed. She lifted you up, mellowed you out, always opposite sides of the same coin. You had even spent your teenage years trying to convince school friends that you were destined to be best friends. Joanie was born on the hottest day of that year, and you on the coldest. It took fourteen years for life to bring the two of you together, but you felt as though you’d known her from birth. She was your soulmate, and it was eating up at you that you couldn’t tell her everything about Harry.

—

On the other side of London, Harry was sprawled across an armchair stuffed far too firm to be comfortable, though he knew that was the point. His long fingers were tapping a rhythm across his thigh, his eyes glued to the empty space left by his still-missing S ring. The tan line left behind sent a twinge through Harry’s chest. He regretted questioning you as soon as he’d said it, though he really didn’t know you well enough to be sure you weren’t involved. For all he knew, this could have been your plan all along. Get friendly with Harry Styles then sell your story to make a quick buck. Truthfully, he felt as though he could trust you, wanted to trust you, but he’d been burned too many times to fully count on his instincts.

“You best start explaining this, H.” Jeff’s voice was kind but stern, a cloud of frustration hanging over his head. Harry held his hands up in surrender, telling his manager, “it’s just a girl I’ve been seeing. Didn’t realise I had t’tell you and the world about it.”

“Harry- I’m your manager, for fucks sake. If you’re out doing things that could make a good story, it’s wise to tell me first. You know we need to get on top of things before anything like this happens.” Jeff’s words were now laced with annoyance. Annoyance with Harry, with the situation, with the media. When Harry failed to say anything further, Jeff pushed again. “So? Tell me what there is to tell and I can find a way out of this for you.”

Harry explained as much as he could, leaving out the raunchier details. He started to speak about ‘kiwi girl’ (as twitter had affectionately nicknamed you), when Jeff held up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there, H. Do not tell me this girl is a fan.” Harry’s silence and hanging head was a dead giveaway that you were, in fact, a fan. “And I’m assuming this is the same girl you upgraded the night after?” Harry nodded this time, standing from his seat to pace the length of the room instead. Jeff’s head was in his hands, sighing as he half-yelled “rule number one is you do. not. sleep. with. fans,” slamming the tip of his pen into the table with every word.

“It’s not-“ Harry started. “Not like that, I know. It’s never like that, mate.” Jeff finished for Harry, eyes finding the back of Harry’s head. “Listen, let’s set up an opportunity for more photos with a different woman. Make out you’re having a bit of a phase. Takes the heat off, means you can keep playing with your little fuck-toy in private.”

“She’s not my little fuck-toy,” Harry growled, his irritation threatening to explode out of him. “And I’ve been fucking doing it in private. All of it. Haven’t been with her outside the hotel, not since the first night. Haven’t entered and left at the same time, done everything to keep it fucking private.”

“And no one knows it’s this girl?”

“No, mate. No one else.”

The frosted door swung open, Glenne’s high heels tip-tapping across the marble floor with every step. “Harry!”, she beamed, pulling him in for a lingering hug. “Has my lovely husband been tormenting you?” She looked Harry up and down, eyes full of love and care. He chuckled bitterly, his tired eyes following her back across the room to where she perched on the edge of Jeff’s desk. “This isn’t such a big deal, you know.”

“No, seriously!” she insisted as both men scoffed. “It’s hardly a scandal. ‘Young single man spotted with woman’. It’s not exactly the headline of the century.”

“It is when the world finds out she’s a fan. He’ll be tormented by young girls for the rest of his career now,” Jeff told his wife. “So we don’t let that part get out - not unless you’re serious about her, H. Her family and friends might know if you’re spotted together again, but by the time it has to come out, you’ll be off the market. If you’re not serious, not seeing her again, how you met never has to leave this room. Besides, you’ve been tormented by young girls for years already.”

Harry had no idea how Glenne did it. She always managed to find the best solution, easy fixes that passed right under his and Jeff’s noses. “That works for me,” he sighed, the rubber band snapping from around his chest, finally able to breathe fully and deeply. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out quickly, praying it would be from you. It was Anne.

mum: Just got to the station. Think you have a bit of a situation so will see you later !! Xx

“Mum’s here. I need to go, Jeff. Thank you, Glenne,” Harry muttered as he fled the office, holding his hands up in a prayer position. He sent you a quick text as he left, having not heard from you since he’d left you this morning. Harry was relieved to have a plan, but his heart was still heavy. He should have warned you how quickly things can get real when you’re associated with him. He was so used to fooling around with other women in the industry, women who already knew the ins and outs of life with a celebrity. If the world learned your name, your life would be changed irreversibly. He’d seen what it had done to others, how the media had shared their private details, their families details. You might have known it was a risk, but neither of you had seen this coming so quickly. You hadn’t even discussed it, it was far too soon to even think about what would happen when the bubble burst.

—

You and Joanie had ended up in almost the exact position you were for night one, just as she wanted. You were wearing your red outfit today, wishing you’d worn that on Tuesday to match with Harry. Everything came back to Tuesday. A white denim skirt hugged your hips, carefully hand-painted red hearts dotted all over the material. You’d paired it with a bright red off the shoulder top, and Joanie next to you was wearing the same but in inverted colours. You were glad to have her close by your side tonight, glad to have been able to tell her the bare minimum about your aching heart. She’d insisted on bringing a funny sign tonight, desperate to catch Harry’s attention and make you smile. ‘my bestie had her heart broken, can you cheer her up ?!’, the sign read. You would keep your fingers crossed for the rest of your life if it meant Harry didn’t see the sign, didn’t notice you at all tonight.

He seemed more muted than usual, his dances and energy toned down in comparison to his usual self. You wondered if he’d tried to contact you at all today. Your phone had barely charged before you left for Joanie’s, then died again on your way over. You hadn’t bothered to charge it up since, preferring to ignore the internet for today at least. Harry knew where you were if he wanted to see you.

Joanie’s fingernails were digging into your arm, her screams bordering on nutty as Harry pulled his guitar strap over his head, mere feet in front of you once again. His eyes had glanced over you a few times, but he hadn’t noticed you. Either because he didn’t want to, or his mind was elsewhere. “Don’t tell me he’s going to-“, Joanie started, screaming again as the opening chords to ‘boyfriends’ echoed through the stadium. You couldn’t help the tears that immediately welled in your eyes, threatening to spill down your blushed cheeks. You hadn’t even thought about crying all day, hadn’t felt as though you needed to and now it was all pushing to the surface.

Boyfriends

Are they just pretending?

Joanie wrapped an arm around your waist, using her thumb to wipe a tear from your eye. You rested your head against her shoulder, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You weren’t even sure what made you so upset, but your heart couldn’t stop aching now that you thought about what had happened that morning- then it hit you. Harry hadn’t even asked you how you felt this morning, thought for a second how these pictures could affect you. After how attentive he’d been for days, it felt like a slap in the face. Had he been pretending? Did he only want you in his bed, only care when it was your secret?

They don't tell you where it's heading

You kept your eyes fixed on Harry, his dark pupils scanning the crowd in front of him through heavy eyelids. They lingered on you for only half a second, not long enough for anyone to notice but long enough for you to watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes clouded over, blinking rapidly as he cleared his throat and looked away from you.

And you know the game's never ending

He stepped back from the microphone, signalling to the crowd to sing for him as he turned his back, the gut-wrenching glisten of tears in his eyes visible for a split second.

He whispered something to Sarah as the song finished and stepped closer to the microphone, his rich voice suddenly crooning, “baby, you were the love of my life”. Harry’s eyes looked anywhere except for you, hurt and shame written all over his face. He knew he’d acted like a dick today, from the way he handled the situation with you, to the way he spoke to Jeff, to the way he made almost no time for his darling mum and sister before the show. He needed to make it all alright, most of all with you. He silently prayed that you’d know these songs were for you, feel what he was trying to convey.

He moved over to the opposite side of the stage, turning to point at Jonny’s place when he mentioned it. Yours and Joanie’s faces flashed up on the screen, Joanie waving her sign around like a mad woman while you wiped your teary eyes. You laughed at the sight of the two of you, you made an insane pair. Harry was watching the screen as he sang, desperate to let his eyes linger on you without actually doing just that. He blew a kiss to your general area as the band played out, girls around you screaming. He walked past you on his way back to the main stage, watching you subtly catch his kiss with the hand still trying to dry your eyes. That soothed him a little, lifted his mood just enough to get through the remainder of the show.

—

Harry explained everything to Anne and Gemma after the show, head in his hands as they sighed and groaned at his story. “Harry Edward, you’re a very bad man sometimes,” Anne gasped, swatting at his knee. “You got this poor girl obsessed with you, then you ditch her at the first sign of trouble?”

“Oi, I didn’t ditch her!,” he said, his vibe not too far from that of a petulant teenager’s. “I needed to deal with the business side, needed t’sort out Jeff.”

Gemma placed a hand on Harry’s forearm, “have you spoken to her? Explained it all? Y/n is probably going out of her mind right now, H.”

“I think her phones off, we haven’t spoken all day,” Harry sighed. He didn’t have the words to explain to himself, or his family, why this felt like a much bigger problem than it was. Why his heart was so much heavier than it should have been for someone he’d only known for 4 days. “It’s getting late now, go and get some rest darling. See if you can reach her tonight, you’ve got us all day tomorrow.” Anne rose from her seat, tugging on Harry’s wrists to get him moving. She pulled him in for a cuddle when he stood, knowing a mother’s hug can make the biggest problems seem smaller. He held her tight, taking a deep sniff of her floral, earthy scent. She smelled like home. It always seemed to calm him down.

“You did amazing tonight, my special baby boy. Love you so much, we can’t wait to get some proper time with you tomorrow,” Anne said, a radiant grin spreading across her face. She never wanted to see him torn up about anything, hated watching him fall in and out of love every so often, healing the hurt and heartbreak he wore so well. But having her little boy in her arms was more than enough to warm her heart.

—

Harry knocked on your door, feeling sheepish. He was usually far too stubborn to trail back with his tail between his legs so soon, but this was different. You hadn’t done him wrong, hadn’t bought him anything other than joy. You were the innocent pawn in someone else’s game, a game that he hadn’t realised could, and had, hurt you both. He let the gift bag he held fall to his side when you didn’t answer, his clenched wrist going limp.

He knocked again after a few minutes, and again a few minutes after that. He couldn’t hear anything inside, but that didn’t mean you weren’t in there. He turned on his heel, deciding to head back upstairs, hoping he’d at least get a text from you before he slept. Then he saw you, trudging towards the door, eyes fixed on your phone screen. Your hair was hanging down your back in a messy braid, the t-shirt Harry had loaned to you on Monday night engulfing your slender frame. You looked up as you got nearer, brown eyes locking onto his. Stopping in your tracks, you felt the wings of a thousand butterflies knocking against the inner walls of your belly, heart beating like a ticking time bomb. The hallway was silent, the weight of a thousand things you wanted to say to each other but couldn’t find the words to say hanging over your heads. “Hey,” you smiled, reaching for your keycard. “I just went to get some food, is everything okay?”

Harry let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, stepping forward to wrap you up in his arms. Your bodies melted into each other, your hands splayed against Harry’s back, cradling him so tight you thought you might never let go. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled, pink lips spreading into a warm smile. Holding onto each other, just being close, was enough to make it right.

You let the two of you inside, unpacking your food onto the countertop as Harry lingered behind you. “I got sushi, there’s enough for two if you want to stay,” you offered.

You both sat on the bed to eat, giggles cutting through a peaceful silence as you watched reruns of the Office. Harry’s fingers found yours after a while, his thumb tracing shapes on the back of your hand. “I got you something,” he told you, standing up to grab the gift bag from where he’d left it.

Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you untied the white ribbon, pulling a handwritten note from a tiny envelope.

‘heard you got your heart broken. thought this could cheer you up’.

You shook your head as you read it, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. “I told her not to take that sign,” you laughed. “I tried to tell her a bit this morning but it’s a little hard to explain.” Harry grinned, “it was sweet. Though I bet she’ll be mortified if she knows she told me I broke your heart.”

A dark green velvet jewellery box sat in the bottom of the bag, slimline and dainty. You looked up at Harry, as if unsure this was for you. “Open it,” he smiled, words coming out small. Inside was the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen. A tiny chain, the perfect shade of gold to complement your other jewellery. At the bottom of the chain sat a tiny H, studded with imitation diamonds. You bought the box closer to your face, fingers tracing delicately over the elegant design. “H,” you whispered, totally taken aback by the gift. “For Harry,” he smirked. “Do you like it?”

You were stunned, your mouth trying and failing to form words. All you could do was keep tracing over the pendant, eyes glancing between the necklace and the man sitting in front of you. “I love it, Harry. I really do,” you eventually managed, grateful tears filling up your eyes. You set the box down beside you, closing the distance between you and Harry. He held a warm hand to your cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to the end of your nose. “Turn around, let me help you put it on.”

He secured the chain around your neck, peppering soft kisses across your back. “It’s beautiful Harry, really. I can’t thank you enough,” you sighed, fiddling with the H as you spoke. You leaned back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I really am,” he spoke. “Didn’t mean t’rush out on you in such a hurry.”

“Harry, it’s f-“, you interrupted, wanting to put the whole day behind you now that you had him back. “It’s not fine. Didn’t like you seeing me so pissed off, I wanted to get away and sort it all out. But I hurt you.” He was speaking softer now, his voice gentle. “You didn’t Harry, I was confused that’s all. I didn’t know what any of this meant, for you or for us.”

“And I should’ve spoken to you, got on the same page so we could handle it together.” You pulled away from him as he spoke, turning your body around to face him again. You could see the shame etched into every line on his face, the way he’d beaten himself up all day showing in his eyes. You rested your hand on the side of his neck, thumb stroking the sharp edge of his jawline. “You got it sorted though?” you asked. “All sorted, princess. Had to tell everyone everything though. Even told my mum,” he smiled meekly. “Yeah? Told her how pretty and perfect I am?” you grinned, fluttering your eyelashes. “Told her you’re the prettiest girl in the world. After her of course.”

He really did think you were the prettiest girl in the world. Especially now, in his t-shirt, wearing his initial around your neck. Your hair was messy, your skin fresh. The evening light seeping in from the window was illuminating you from behind, giving you an angelic glow.

“Have you showered?” you asked him. “Yeah. But I’ll have another one if it means more time with you,” he grinned, already yanking his hoodie over his head.

—

You were taking turns under the water, laughing and joking as you manoeuvred around each other in the small space. “Give me a kiss,” Harry smiled. “Since when have you asked for kisses?” you laughed, poking at his chest. “Don’t know if I deserve one today.”

“Lucky for you, I can’t deny you any,” you said as you leaned towards him. He held onto the back of your head as his lips met yours. His lips were as warm and as soft as they’d ever been, the tickle of his hot breath sending sparks down your spine. Your tongue darted out of your parted lips, licking a trail across his bottom teeth before slipping into his mouth. Harry moved his mouth to your throat, suckling on your wet skin. “Gonna mark you up, show everyone you’re mine,” he whispered. He ran his tongue over the bruise he left behind, before continuing to kiss down your body, pausing to nibble on your perky nipple. He licked a circle around your belly button as your hands found his wet hair, shifting your body to lean against the tiled wall.

“Open up for me,” he asked, nose nudging into the space where your thighs met. He rested back on his heels, admiring your pussy. “So perfect, my sweet girl,” he drawled, fingers tracing up the inside of your thigh. His warm face was so close to right where you needed him, mouth so close that his tongue could reach out and have a taste. His mouth was watering at the sight of your arousal wetting your folds. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to taste you, wet his face with your juices, have you screaming as you came on his tongue.

You were whimpering as soon as Harry’s lips made contact with your pussy, his tongue lapping into your folds. He was eating you like he’d been starving, like your pussy was the first and only thing he’d ever be allowed to enjoy. His nose grazed over your clit as he licked at your entrance, sending your hips bucking into his mouth as the bundle of nerves lit on fire. He chuckled at your body’s reaction, murmuring a slurred, “need daddy to give you more?” You tugged on his curls in response, breathless and unable to speak. He moved immediately to focus on your clit, his lips wrapping around your button as he sucked and popped. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting pleasure deep into your core.

You’d never found much pleasure from someone’s mouth, yet Harry’s was taking you to places you’d never been before. Your back was arched off the wall, fingertips buried so deep in his hair you could pierce his scalp. Your eyes were grainy, the hot steam from the shower swirling around your head. You felt like you were in a trance, moans and incoherent words slipping out of your mouth uncontrollably.

Harry gripped onto the back of your thigh, steadying himself as he pulled his mouth closer into your entrance. His tongue was licking deeper into you, one finger rubbing circles around your clit. “Harry,” you whimpered, feeling your legs begin to buckle beneath you. Your orgasm rolled over you in waves, your body so limp yet so tense under his touch. His tongue kept fucking into you, his hard cock twitching between his legs as you screamed out a strangled moan. You pulled one hand out of his curls, gripping onto the shower caddy to keep yourself from collapsing. Your head was spinning, stars all you could see as Harry rode you through your high. Between the water dripping from his hair, and your juices drenching his face, Harry thought he could drown. He’d die happily here, nestled between your legs, lips attached to your perfect pussy for eternity.

He pulled away after a moment, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit before standing, pulling your weak body into his arms. “Always do so good for me, baby girl,” he cooed, pushing the wet strands of hair off of your forehead. He could get drunk off the way you looked post-orgasm, your cheeks flushed and pupils blown. The way your mouth never fully closed and your breasts jumped as your chest heaved. Harry got a kick out of knowing he did that to you, he bought you that pleasure.

His cock bumped against your hips as he helped you out the shower, your hands all over each other as you pushed him towards the granite countertop. “What’s bought this on?” Harry smirked, not used to seeing you take such an active role. It had been established pretty early on that Harry was a giver, all he wanted was to pleasure you, and you had no problems being a taker. But his cock had been calling out to you for days, begging you for a taste. “Where you going?” he asked you, head tilting to the side as your hands slithered down his body, your knees hitting the tiled floor. You stayed silent, pressing kisses up the inside of his thigh. You bit down into the fleshy part near the top, quickly licking over the teeth marks. Harry shuddered as you nipped at his skin, repeating the move up and down both his thighs. You suckled at the skin next to his base, leaving your mark. A perfect little purple bruise, a matching tattoo.

You looked up at him as he reached down to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip, his butterfly tattoo seemingly flapping its wings as he breathed in and out. “Gonna stuff daddy’s cock into that pretty little mouth?” he rasped, his thighs tensing as you hacked spit into your palms. You stroked his member up and down, up and down, again and again as you pressed swollen-mouthed kisses to his thick tip. Holding a hand at his base, you licked a line down the underside of his shaft, then took his tip in your mouth hungrily. He was far bigger than you’d ever had, and you were unsure of how well your usual tricks would work on someone his size.

He whimpered as you took him further in your mouth, your warm cheeks tightening against his length as you sucked. Your hand moved up and down the inches of him you couldn’t manage to take, swirling your heated tongue around his head as you pulled him further out. “Knew you could be a good little slut for daddy,” he drawled, gathering your dripping hair and using it to guide your head up and down his cock. He kept his free hand steadied on the countertop, mouth dropping open as you popped off of his head and moved your mouth to his balls. Harry threw his head back as you suckled at his sack, rolling your tongue against the soft, sensitive skin. Your hand continued tugging against his length as you worked, your nose bumping the underside of his foreskin. “Fuck baby, give me more, please,” he groaned, wrapping your long hair around his fist. You switched your hand and your mouth, fondling his balls while you stuffed his cock back into your mouth. You looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as you took his member further than you had before, reaching as far as you could before gagging against his head. His hand tugged at your hair somewhat involuntarily as your throat closed around him, a choked moan squeezing out against his tip. Your eyes were red, tears brewing above your lower lashes. “Taste so fucking good daddy,” you told him, mouth moving up and down faster now, humming in appreciation as his cock twitched in your throat.

Harry had never seen you look so sexy, not when you took his cock so well, not when you were coming on his tongue. Like this, stark naked on the bathroom floor, his cock lodged between your perfect swollen pout, this is what he wanted to remember. Have the image etched in his brain forever, see you like this every time he closed his eyes. His balls felt heavy in your hand, loaded with the cum he couldn’t wait to shoot down your pretty little throat. “Fuck, princess. I’m gonn- gonna come if you keep doing that,” he warned, his voice deep with lust. You moaned against him, keeping your lips wrapped tightly around his girthy member, your perfect H pendant swinging against your chest as you bobbed back and forth. You splayed your free hand against his thigh as it started to shake, looking up his body to see his abs tensing, his pecs twitching as you bought him close to climax. “Come for me daddy,” you whined against him, words muffled by his cock taking over your throat. He pulled his head down to his chest, eyes screwed tight and jaw slack as he came violently, thick cum splashing against the back of your throat. You swallowed around his head, ribbons of cum flooding your cheeks. You moved the hand cradling his sack to stroke his length, riding him through his orgasm. His hips jutted towards you, your hair wound tightly around his clenched fist.

His grip eased up as he came down from his high, darkened eyes opening to look down at you as you removed your mouth from him completely. You had his juices dripping out of your mouth, eyes threatening to spill over as you wiped them with the back of your hand. “Never seen anything so pretty in my whole life,” Harry smiled, rubbing the curve of your neck.

You dried yourselves off, fluffy towels soothing your aching, exhausted bodies. Crawling into bed still naked, you and Harry faced each other, whispering sweet nothings as you kissed over each others faces. He fell asleep before you, one arm draped across your chest, hand still cupping your jaw. Your phone lit up with a text from Joanie,

J: everything ok? you happy?

You snapped a selfie, Harry’s strong hand barely visible in the pitch black room. You sent it to her, captioned simply, the happiest

part five

taglist: @ameerakane20

you can join my taglist here 🫶🏼

[pothame]

thamepo color analysis loading....

i want to preface this by saying i'm not super well versed in how colors are used in bl so i might get something wrong/miss something and if i do please feel free to jump in and add on! (under the cut bc it's very long lmao) also i AM over analyzing and i'm sure not all of this is intentional but it's fun to think about nonetheless!

starting with episode 1 part 4 because that's what made me start this thought train. in po's flashback we see him giving earn the two sandwiches, but we also see a photo of the two, presumably from earlier in their relationship. po is wearing yellow and earn is wearing blue. earn's workspace is also covered in blue with a blue chair, a blue lamp, and the bookshelf painted blue. from the colors they're wearing in this scene alone we can tell a lot from the status/dynamic of their relationship at the time. earn is wearing a black and white shirt, indifferent to po and their relationship, but po has fully adopted earn's blue. he feeds his partner and cleans the kitchen in blue showing he puts more thought and care into their relationship than earn. po is also wearing blue in the flashback to the earnchop event where earn, again wearing greyscale, overlooks po in his thanks to. when earn suddenly leaves po is wearing brown/neutral colors, perhaps he was feeling less into the relationship, muddy feelings. it's hard to tell whether earn is wearing a black and white shirt or a shirt with blue on it but regardless the scene is bathed in yellow light - as is all of the flashback in the apartment - which makes the blue, earn's empty space, really stand out.

when we meet po in episode one, he's wearing a greenish brown shirt as he mentions how he gave up his career to help boost his ex, but he's over it now and can get back to work! (lying) he's obviously not over it yet. he goes to pick up one sandwich but gets given (and charged for) two, probably because the two had been together so long he became a regular at this sandwich truck. the whole area is lit in yellow, and his ex on the tv is still wearing black. in front of the logo he designed. and the sandwich guy goes on and on about how great this guy is, which proves earn never went to the sandwich shop because wouldn't the sandwich guy recognize him? wouldn't he be like hey isn't that your boyfriend that's so great! of course not. of course it was po alone.

po gets back to the apartment and there's so many decorations that are color coded. blue pillows and blanket on the yellow couch, blue curtains, a blue tablecloth, a yellow coffee table cover (it looks like there's some blue too but i think it's just the lighting bc it also makes the sandwich wrappers look blue), a yellow book, and a post-it/piece of stationary that is mostly blue with a small yellow corner next to their matching black and white mugs. you can also see two framed photos of them both wearing blue. it's warm and yellow inside the apartment, but cold and blue through the glass doors. po picks up a photo, he's in yellow and earn is in blue. you can see below a photo from probably the same day. he then picks up a photo in a blue frame of earn in either blue and pink or black and white, again it's hard to tell it may even be the shirt he broke up with po in, and po in all blue. this was probably taken in the honeymoon phase, especially if earn is wearing pink.

the next day we see him in bright blue putting blue folders in a box, probably packing up earn's stuff, and he picks up his phone in its blue case. it shows all over that he's not over earn. i don't know thai so i'm not sure about the calendar.

the first close up at the suit shop is of a blue measuring tape and a yellow measuring tape resting together on a suit situated on a mannequin, as well as a green tape under. obviously yellow + blue = green. the next close up is of fabric samples, mostly blue with one red and a few warm creams (aka yellow). po walks in to the job he took to support his ex wearing the blue that took over his life and still remains. the suit shop owner, uncle joei, is wearing a blue shirt with a blue tie that has yellow flowers on it. the shop is covered in blue fabric on top of warm wood with yellow lamps and yellow walls. you could say it's symbolic of earn taking over his life and causing him to give up his career for the time being. po even has a blue sticker at the center of his laptop.

with this much blue i honestly had a hard time deciphering what his color was during the trailer and my initial watch but baifern saves the day! at the interview she sets up for him po wears white, a blank slate, a new start. during the interview we see a flashback to po working at the shop and at the fanmeet, both wearing pink (guess who's wearing blue. that's right THAME). this was probably during a high point in his and earn's relationship or at a point where he felt very strongly for him. we see him editing the fanmeet footage in blue at the very blue very neat desk, this was probably before earnchop got started. back to the interview and we see warm po in this cold blue room. his clothes almost look yellow and i thought they were until i saw the clip outside the building again. in the flashback to studying with baifern, we see po in white again. my guy is starting fresh and leaving earn behind and we love to see it! his notes. still in blue. but! i'm choosing to ignore it<3

as po gets his id picture taken we can see more clearly that his outfit is white and i just have to have a little blorbo appreciation bc he's so cute and happy to have a new job back in a field that he loves

we meet new besties ming, wearing yellow, and tae, wearing blue (and a yellow handkerchief!). we also meet thame yay! he's wearing blue (denim) over a black hoodie and arguing with the ceo over his schedule. with the added context from episode 2 of how she persuaded him into a solo career as an attempt to save mars but then didn't allow him any creative freedom, the tension makes sense. we have the infamous sasaeng accusation and thame is very guarded and aware of what's going on around him, especially when it comes to things that could affect his group (hello leader love).

po goes to the sandwich stand in his all white fit ready for change and frowny face :( two sandwiches. the green lawn behind him is very prominent and there's a dark blue sky just above his head perhaps emphasizing that he is reminded of earn. however baifern saves the day again with a phone call and po says thame is cute even thought That was their first interaction (what is wrong with him [lovingly]).

the next outfit change we see for po is at the concert announcement where he's wearing a brown tshirt under a cream cardigan, hello muddy feelings. tae is wearing his yellow handkerchief again, over a brown tshirt this time, and ming is wearing blue (denim)! i don't think their colors really say anything, at least not now, but it's fun to see the color palette extend to side characters. thame enters the green room in black and white before taking the stage in all black. the group performance is primarily lit in blue light, and thame's solo performance is very golden.

during the interview and argument thame has changed back into his black and white outfit. these outfits are consistent throughout the remainder of episode one but let's mention the flashbacks. i already went over po's flashbacks but i forgot to mention the amount of blue in the apartment while they're (po is) working on earnchop's logo.

both people are wearing blue, and blue in general sticks out more than the yellow, like it's taking over. like earn was taking over po's professional life. we see po in all white at the shop working on the logo, waking up in blue after working on it all night, but then we get our first non-old-photo glimpse of po in yellow as he goes to the store to take care of something earn left for him in a (yellow) envelope with a (yellow) sticky note on it.

then thame hits po with his perspective and we see one of his memories. leaving his members while wearing black and white (i think for thame black and white/greyscale is him trying to distance himself emotionally from the group and feeling like he's doing what he has to do to protect it).

at po's very yellow desk, in contrast to the one at his apartment, we see him starting to pack up for the night, surrounded by the dark blue night sky visible through the large windows. after he calls baifern with a question about perspective, he tries to find thame to explain himself. we see thame on the roof, alone, shrouded in the blue of the sky. po runs past the yellow walls of the inside of the building before heading up the rooftop where he and thame have their first moment in the beginning of getting closer. while you can see the blue of the sky and the cityscape, you also see the green hedges. where blue and yellow meet. po says a line he swears isn't flirting and that's where episode one ends!

this ended up being WAYYY longer than i intended and i guess also part recap of the episode?😭 so i'm gonna cut it here and make a separate post for episode two. i'm not gonna reread this because it's 12:30 at night so it's probably kinda cringe at points but it is what it is, maybe i'll polish it tomorrow but probably not lmao

[saturnsummer]

helpless.

han joon hwi does all he can to save kang sol a. kang sol a, for the first time, realises she’s not alone.

ao3 link

notes: this has been manifesting in me ever since i saw the scene of sol a fainting. i’m sorry it’s so long, but i hope the law school fans like it! it’s my first time, but i’m open to request and improvements. do share with your fellow solhwi fans if you like it! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me.

edit: this is written by @inactiverat , which is MY secondary account. i did not copy this from someone else. both accounts belong to ME. i am republishing this on my primary blog to better manage.

words: 4130 words.

it’s been a terrible day for sol.

forget about a terrible day, it has been a week of horror.

she can’t remember the last time she laid her head on the pillow of her clean sheets and mattress. with her semester test coming on friday, she has spent the entire weekend cramming for her test. she has opted to sleep at her desk for no more than 10 minutes at a time. her eyes sting from the roll-on muscle relief ointment that she rolls on every few hours under her eyes. her head pounds and the only things she has eaten are ramyeon and black coffee. (no sugar, extra shots.)

sol sighs as she fixes another highlighter in her top bun. she’s been staring at the same question for hours. she looks over her desk, hoping to find peace by seeing a sleeping sol b, but only remembers that she went home. her tiger mom’s orders, since “she shouldn’t study with her roommate, who is at the bottom of the cohort.”

sol visibly frowned as she thought of that sentence. she doesn't need to be reminded every minute and second of her life that she’s the worst. that whenever she fails a test, the smarty pants are cheering due to the bell curve. that she barely scrapes through every class. that she blubbers and mutters answers like an idiot in every lecture.

that’s why she works so hard. to show that she doesn't need money or connections to succeed in this school. that a single parented girl, making enough to get by, holding a part time job can be like the rest. for her mom, she tolerated years of violent abuse, yet still being so strong for her children. for dan, who she so desperately misses and wants to find, even though she knows dan may never want to see her. for byeol, the reason why she decided to study law; the only human she loves in this lawless world.

sol knows she’s pushing herself too hard. yeseul made an effort to remind her to sleep via text. bokgi teased her once during a study group after mentioning she looks like a disheveled panda. even professor kim pulled her out of lecture to give her a talk to remind her to eat.

but joon hwi hasn't.

she internally scoffs. she doesn’t expect him to. (what does a second round judicial exam passer want to know about the worst student?) and maybe, she doesn't want him to. she wants to show him she can do it on her own. she can’t count the number of times he helped her with her grades and cases. studying alone without help was the smallest thing she can do to show him her independence.

thus, she found every moment to stay away. well, from him, in particular. she only came to lectures on time, sat at the back (as opposed to next to him) and left immediately. she returns to her dorm to study (ditching study groups with him in it) and only leaves in the odd hours to get drinks and food when she’s absolutely starving. she hears the buzzes and rings from yeseul and joonhwi, but only smiles when they ask about her inactivity. (“it was dead. i must have forgotten to charge it again.”)

she sighs in frustration and stands from her chair, grabbing her phone and keys out to the pantry area. she needed more caffeine, if she was going to survive this night.

what she doesn't expect to see, is han joon hwi, devouring his late night snack of ramyeon at the table. the shuffling of her furry slippers raises his head from his precious bowl.

“you’re still up?” he asks.

it’s too late to turn around and pretend she didn’t see him. so instead, sol just nods silently as opposed to her defensive remarks. joon hwi stops slurping his noodles and sets the bowl aside. preparing to walk to the staircase, his next question freezes sol in her steps.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

his voice is gentle and nowhere near angry. but concerned and fearful, as if he’s done something wrong to upset her. for a moment, sol feels like she’s in her first lecture with professor yang and is left speechless. (only now, there is no where to hide.)

joon hwi wasn’t blind to her actions. he noticed her absence when she didn’t sit next to him in lectures. he noticed that whenever he was there for a study group session, she wouldn’t; but when he would ask the others, they would say she was there for the ones he wasn’t. joon hwi was certain that sol was avoiding him.

and he couldn’t understand why.

until now.

joon hwi’s eyes examine the young woman in front of him. he’s certain that a middle school student could figure this out; kang sol a is overworked. her dark eye circles are prominent, puffy and her bloodshot eyes do nothing but intensify her lack of sleep. he noticed just how pale her lips look, as he walks over to her. how has she gotten skinnier too?

joon hwi’s certain that she’s avoiding him not because of something he said that annoyed her. but because he knows that she doesn’t want him to see her in this state. his eyes soften and heart aches from the amount of effort she's putting in to her tests.

for sol, he knows how much the tests meant. it was like her entire life depended on it. that’s why he always wanted to help her. he didn’t want to see such a talented person fall behind. she has already proven herself worthy with all the cases she has participated in. but joon hwi knows that no matter how many times yeseul or bokgi or him say how smart and talented and how she’s doing great, she will never be satisfied in this cold, competitive prestigious school. she will always think she’s the worst and has no potential.

“sol.” his voice firm and serious. sol swears she felt a chill run down. she mentally braces herself for this conversation that she has tried all means to avoid. only one person dares address her as just ‘sol’.

“when did you last sleep? or eat proper food?” his eyes are serious, yet soft and glassy. his voice is gentle and soothing. she closes her eyes and lets out a silent sigh. she is nowhere the mock court, yet she feels like she has taken the witness stand and the oath. lying is perjury, she hears herself say.

“i’m doing fine. i just need to do well on this test.” she lies through her teeth. well, it’s a half true and a half lie. it’s just up to him to pick out which is the lie and truth. joon hwi isn’t an idiot, and can read her emotions with just a single look. it’s an utter lie.

“i’m getting coffee.” she mutters to herself. it was the whole reason she came out, anyways. her sleeve is caught by him but she yanks it away forcefully. she doesn’t even know why she’s being so harsh and angry to him. all he’s done is just ask how she’s doing.

“you need sleep. not caffeine.” he spins her around by her shoulders, his eyes serious and almost frustrated. she fails to meet his eyes, afraid of falling apart before him.

“joon, just let me be.” she says harshly and pushes his hands off before running to get that extra potent coffee. it was the first time she has ever called him that, and it falls out just as naturally as the word ‘sol’ does out of his. sol doesn’t notice how wet her eyes are until she’s downstairs, grabbing cans of coffee from the vending machine. (pathetic, she thinks, getting teary because of lying to her best friend.)

joon hwi doesn't follow. and sol isn't one bit affected.

not. at. all.

-----

the next time sol sees joon hwi is in the morning. he’s carrying his books and has his backpack slung over his shoulder, leaning against the wall. sol braces herself. she knows joon hwi to be protective and caring. but for him to be waiting at the entrance of their dorm was downright surprising.

sol’s not doing any better. when the caffeine and sugar stopped her from staying late, she resorted to stabbing her hand to keep herself awake. when her hand got too red and bloody, she switched to another spot on her arm. underneath her hoodie is her arm with dried blood and bruises all over. she’s surprised she hasn’t had blood poisoning yet.

sol flashes the most natural smile she can on her face, pretending as if her argument with him did not happen a few hours ago. her head was numb, but hanging on with the ointment she applied at her temples. she needed to act okay. just so he would stop worrying and leave her alone.

“sol.” joon hwi’s voice calls, going forward and grabbing her arm to support her. sol is about to create a joke, laugh it off and pretend everything is okay, hopefully convincing him she’s doing better (even if she’s far from it.). but what she doesn’t anticipate is his hand accidentally squeezing the sore wound of hers,

she hisses as his fingers dig into her wound and he immediately lets go. joon hwi’s eyes well in concern, not knowing what he’s done that caused her so much pain. sol’s eyes meet his, uncertain and afraid, as if a secret has been exposed. she pulls her sleeve down and is almost regretting that when joon hwi gently lifts her arm and lifts her sleeve up slightly to expose her arm and hand.

joon hwi takes her good hand in his and drags her to an empty staircase not far from where they were. joon hwi notes the dried blood on her hand and gives a disapproving sigh. just what was she doing to herself? she draws her hand back and pulls her sleeve down, hiding it away.

“sol, you need to take care of yourself.”

“joon, i’m doing okay, i promise. it’s not a big deal.” her voice upbeat and slightly more energetic. joon hwi is about to call her out from lying, but she flashes a smile. “come on, how can an exam defeat me?”

“i’m going to be late.” she says and runs ahead of him, joining yeseul and yebeom in front. sol feels a gnawing guilt in her heart for lying, but she momentarily forgets about it as yebeom sweeps them into a conversation.

i’m sorry, joon. i really am. but i’m not going to burden you any further.

joon hwi is left, helpless and broken, watching the back of the woman he loves stray further.

-----

it isn’t a secret that joon hwi and sol a are good friends. everyone on campus is always shocked. joon hwi, the school’s top student. sol a, the school’s worst student. everyone would have expected sol b when they heard ‘kang sol’. after all, it made sense, didn’t it? the two best students in school.

but what would be even more shocking is that han joon hwi, second round judicial exam passer, is deep in love with kang sol, the klutz with the top bun.

joon hwi couldn’t deny the joy he felt whenever sol was around. it started with study group and tutoring and messages about school. then it became lunches every moment they could. now, he couldn’t go a day without seeing her, hearing her voice or even a simple text. he can’t remember the moment he started falling for the clumsy woman, but when he realised it, he knew it was too late. he was in, deep.

and that's why he can’t bear to see her suffer. that’s why he spends late nights studying with her even though he doesn't need to. that’s why he insist walking her home, even though he installed the camera. (“i miss byeol! that smart cookie...” would always be his excuse.) that’s why he calls her ‘sol’, and he lets her call him ‘joon’, even though no one calls him that anymore.

sol locks herself in her room and buries herself under multiple books after her lectures. sol admits it, she’s tired. she can barely keep herself together and her body is so weak she doesn’t know how she managed to survive the week with less than two hours of sleep combined per day. she can’t remember the last nap she had that lasted more than half an hour.

the guilt from lying is eating her inside. when she closes her eyes, she can only see how hurt joon hwi’s face looks when he saw her arm. taking a shaky breath in, she doesn’t notice the tear running down her cheek. what was she even crying about? lying? hurting her best friend? fatigue? she slams her head against her books, shaking her thoughts out. it’s already 3am, and she doesn’t have much time left.

“kang sol a, you need to do this exam, you hear me? if you want to pass out, do it later on in the afternoon! you have 9 hours till the test.” she scolds herself out loud. stabbing her arm once again, she jerks herself awake and writes her notes over and over. just 9 more hours.

later on in the day, sol finds herself seated next to joon hwi. but she doesn’t notice him. her eyes are too out of focus to concentrate on anything but the paper and pen she holds. when the teaching assistant makes an announcement to start, she races against time and scribbles furiously. her head throbs, but she clings on to her last ounce of sanity keeping herself awake.

-----

she’s worse. joon hwi thinks. much, much worse. her skin is paler than normal and her eyes are fluttery. with her sleeve pulled up slightly, he notices the wound on her hand more bloody than it was. he visibly winces. but it’s nothing to the hurt in his heart. he knows that he should be busy scribbling, but his eyes are slightly glassy and all he can think of is her bloody hand.

all he wants to do is to drag her away. to take her far from this school. he wants to hold her small body in his arms and cradle her as he tends to her wounds. he wants to tuck her into a soft bed and stroke her brown hair. he wants to tell her how he feels, how she’s perfect, smart and beautiful in his eyes. how sol has already had his validation, and no matter how many kang sols there are, he will only have one in his heart.

as the clock leaves a minute or so to the end, sol struggles to keep her head from falling. she just needs to finish the last sentence. her eyes are blurred and her head has never felt more tight and woozy. her ramyeon from 4am is threatening to make an appearance.

“sol, you’re bleeding.” she hears an familiar echoed voice say next to her. instinctively, she brings a hand up to her nose, and wipes it, revealing the bright red blood. she can’t care for her jacket sleeve and carelessly wipes even though her arm aches. just a bit more, she tells herself.

the voices around her blur as she feels hands on her shoulder stopping her. she pushes them off weakly as she finishes the last word on her paper. she lets out a breath of relief and pushes her paper away from her. she’s finally done. she can finally breathe and have that nap. someone calls her name, but she’s too tired to respond.

then her eyes rolls back and she crashes into oblivion.

joon hwi manages to catch her head before it hits the table as she slumps sideways. he scribbles his name on his paper before chucking his paper and hers towards the teaching assistant. yeseul passes a tissue over to joon hwi and shakes her, eyes getting teary. he gently blots her nose, soaking up the blood. the other students leave unbothered, with only their study group crowding around them.

the next hour is a mad rush in joon hwi’s head. they are frantic for an ambulance, but joon hwi just cradles her body in his arms and runs outside. “it’s faster to run.” he says before taking off. she’s light, way too light for her frame, even with the layered coats that she’s wearing. when he reaches the hospital, she’s laid on a stretcher and sent for checks while the nurses ask him to wait for short while outside.

and for the third time, he stands outside, clutching to a bloody tissue, helpless.

-----

joon hwi wants to beat himself over and over. he should have been more forceful with her. heck, he should have done more than just watch silently. he should have sent packed lunches, compiled his notes, offered to stay up with her. even after when he knows how much sol is suffering, he only stood by.

his eyes are teary when he is allowed to see her. she looks so small under those white sheets. the doctor mentions that they had to take her hoodie off to patch her wounds and insert her IV drip. “dehydrated on caffeine, lack of nutrients and fatigue.” the doctor tells him. he only nods as the doctor leaves him.

his group chat is pinging with endless messages and he takes a moment to update them. he sends a quick text that he’ll let them know when she’s awake. his hand brushes the stray hairs out of her eyes and as best as he can, arranges her bangs the way she likes. his touch is as light as a butterfly as he lets his fingers brush pass her bandages.

with the curtain closed around him, joon hwi lets himself crumble silently, as tears run down his face, hands gripping sol’s stained hoodie sleeve. he wishes he could do something then just watch sol lie on the bed. he knows she is okay, but knowing that he could have prevented this worse case scenario from happening makes him upset. he gives himself a few minutes to compose himself before taking his own hoodie and layering it on her.

and for hours, joon hwi sits by her bed in his own thoughts, once again helpless.

-----

when she wakes up, her head pounds worse than the time she got the worse hangover in school. her eyes flutter, drawing the attention of joon hwi. her mind is cloudy as she starts registering the antiseptic smell and bright lights. her eyes come into focus as she turns over to find a pair of warm brown eyes looking at her.

“joon hwi...?” she says with barely any energy.

“you’re awake.” joon hwi lets himself sigh in relief knowing that she’s awake. it’s already 6pm. the others should be on their way over soon. he sends a quick “she’s awake” to the chat and shuts his phone.

“i... finished my exam right?” the words come tumbling out of sol’s mouth.

“that’s all you are thinking of now?” the anger in joon hwi’s voice catches her by surprise. she lowers her hand and avoids his eyes. she’s really done it, then. she’s really pissed him off.

“aren’t you one bit concerned about your health? you could have literally died being so overworked.” his eyes are glassy. realising that he’s frightening her, he lets a sigh out. joon hwi helps her sit up and props a pillow for her. her fingers fiddle with the thin blanket of the bed. there’s no point being strong in front of him now, after all this.

“you know how much every test means to me.” she mutters in a voice so soft, it’s unlike her to be so...small. joon hwi knows under that strong woman with a fiery passion for justice, there’s a vulnerable little girl, insecure and uncertain. but this was the first time, he realised, that she’s opening up herself.

“i’m so tired, joon. i’m so tired of running this stupid rat race that i’ll never win. i’m so sick of putting everything into my grades and not receiving anything back.” her voice so small, staring at the bandages on her hand. was the pain worth it? she’s not sure now.

joon hwi doesn’t say anything back. how could he? this man was born for this system, to bring law back to the country. he can’t compare to her, who spends countless nights studying, while taking care of her family. all he can do is sit by her bed and provide comfort.

“my head hurts. my body aches all over. yet, i can’t seem to do well in my exams. tell me, joon. just how long must i suffer?” his heart is pierced with every word she says. she’s so broken. joon hwi then notices the small pearls of tears dripping down her face.

his hand reaches out and his thumb rubs away her tears on her cheeks. he doesn’t know what prompted this, but sol doesn’t swat his hand away. she lets him as her hand wipes her remaining tears away.

“i’m here now. you can rely on me.” he says softly to her. suddenly, he takes her small hand in his and squeezes it in comfort. sol’s slightly taken aback, but she doesn’t know why she feels fuzzy inside. she feels warm and for the first time, she feels her burden lifted. with much courage, she gives a small smile.

“noona!” they hear a familiar panicked voice ring and they instinctively draw away from each other. if joon hwi’s face is slightly red, sol doesn't notice. sol is swept away into arguing with bokgi with her health and a teary eyed yeseul. even jiho and sol b came, but stood by silently. (jiho notices joon hwi’s flushed cheeks and his too-bright smile that he finally realises is meant for kang sol a. he makes a mental note about it.)

joon hwi leans back as he watches yeseul and bokgi fuss with sol’s health. he suppresses a smile as he looks at sol’s light laugh, knowing how her burdens are slowly fading and lifted. that he’s finally managed to reach out for his soulmate as she sinks further. it was going to be a journey, but joon hwi will drag her, his sol, out from her darkness every time.

i’m going to be there, no matter what, kang sol. you will not fight alone. i will stay with you, even when you think you don’t deserve it. it doesn't matter if you feel the same towards me or not. if i can see you smile and laugh, it’s enough for me. your happiness is all that matters.

because kang sol, i just love you so damm much.

-----

sol doesn’t notice the switch in her jacket. when she leaves about an hour later with her friends to eat jjajangmyeon (extra pickles, she orders.), she assumes the jacket she has by her bed is hers. she doesn't notice the sandalwood and jasmine smell, as opposed to her pine scented fabrics. when joon hwi teases her and she argues back in annoyance, she’s carefree and light.

when joon hwi smiles at her with his sweet smile, she can’t help but think she’s so lucky that she has him, of all people, by her side. her heart skips a beat, and she’s certain that she feels more than friends towards him. that all this time, she has finally fallen for the cheeky and charming joon hwi behind his intellect.

she smiles back, teeth bared and eyes crinkled as they walk back.

after all, who is to stand against her now, when she has him by her side?

joon hwi, thank you for finding me no matter how much i try to hide away. thank you for believing in me when everyone didn’t. i know you like someone else, and it’s okay. because whoever that is will be so damm lucky to have you. to see you smile your charming smile is enough to put me at ease.

because han joon hwi, i admit, i have fallen for you. i’m in love with you.

-----

bonus:

“noona, they like each other, don’t they?” bokgi watches as sol a barks at joon hwi. joon hwi only runs ahead and buries his hands in his hoodie pockets while letting out light laughs and continues teasing.

“oh, they are so whipped for each other.” yeseul triumphantly says as she walks with the rest behind the not-so-obvious lovebirds.

well, this would be an interesting relationship to see unfold.

[readerinsertz]

Omfg I love your reader inserts! Can I get an Alpha! Bokuto Kōtarō x Omega! Fem! Reader? A scenario where Reader-chan goes to Nekoma and is the male volleyball team’s manager, reader chan gets stuck in heat and Bokuto gets jealous of Kuroo trying to help reader-chan? Smut would be nice but it doesn’t have to be fam! Have fun!

Rating: Explicit, MDNI

Genre: Omegaverse AU (Alpha!Bokuto, Omega!Reader)

Word count: 7.4K

Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, afab!reader, heat sex, fingering, bokuto being whipped for you, soft sex, biting, doggy, okay maybe not that soft, knots

AN: I made it extra smutty since this was requested a while ago!!

 You could tell before you had fully sat down for Registration that it was going to be a bad day. You had only just woken up on time, having forgotten to plug your phone in last night to recharge, you’d left your lunch at home and didn’t have enough money to buy some at the cafeteria. You forced the fiercest scowl on your face, learnt from fellow Omega Yaku to ward away anyone who wanted to talk to you. You were definitely not in a talking mood.

“You okay, (Name)-chan?” A quiet voice spoke, your aggravation melting away as Kenma asked about your well-being.

“I’m as good as my current circumstances allow me to be,” you told him, pouting as you were forced to remember how horrible your week had been. Due to the harsh rain and living on the first floor, your apartment had been flooded quite badly. Thankfully, the landowner was getting it under control and wouldn’t be charging but you, and the rest of the first floor, had been forced to move out of the building. You had moved into a cheap flat but since you hadn’t had much time to pack, you’d had forgotten a lot of your things. 

“Do you know when you’ll be able to move back in?” Kenma asked, golden eyes worried.

“Hmm, probably not in the next week or two, there’s going to be a lot of renovation from water damage,” you relayed what your landowner had told you when you had rung her earlier.

“What about your,” Kenma’s eyes swept across the class to make sure no one was listening in on your conversation and moved closer to you, “Suppressants?”

In your haste to pack enough clothes, toiletries and technology you didn’t want to get water damaged or stolen, you had forgotten to grab your Suppressor Pills. For pretty much any Omega living in Tokyo, they would have been one of the first things packe. You, however, had gone to a small middle school in the Miyagi Prefecture that had had a very small number of Alphas in attendance. As a result of the limited interactions with the other Designation, you hadn’t really needed Suppressants. When you had chosen to attend Nekoma High in Tokyo, which was bound to have a much greater population of Alphas than your previous school, you had decided it would be best to go onto the medication. The first year of High School had been split between managing the Nekoma Volleyball Team and testing out different types of Suppressants. It had only been at the start of the second year, after almost giving up trying to find medication that worked for you, that you’d finally found Suppressants that didn’t make you feel nauseous or had your moods constantly swinging from high to low. Unfortunately, the few months you’d been on the Suppressants hadn’t been enough for them to be given enough importance that you would remember them in your travel packing list and so you had left them in your flat. Your flat that was currently inaccessible… For the next few weeks.

“Eugh, don’t remind me about that problem! I tried to swing by to grab them but I wasn’t allowed entrance- they said that the water may have damaged the structural integrity of the first floor and it’d be too dangerous for a ‘small Omega to go in’,” your face turned into a nasty frown as you quoted to your fellow Omega what one of the construction workers had told you, “so I’ve not been able to get them. I’ve had to make do by rolling as much Scent Blocker, which I had to buy from the pharmacy ‘cuz I forgot that as well, as is physically possible on all my Scent Glands.” Your frown turned into a grimace as you recalled the chicken dance you were forced to do every morning to dry the amount of Scent Blocker applied to your body. 

“Isn’t there anyway you can go buy some more Suppressors? I’m not sure how much longer you’ll remain out of Heat, especially since you’ve been on them for a few months now,” Kenma mused. You just sighed at his suggestion and rested your head on your folded arms on the desk.

Whilst Alphas and Omegas had to first go to their local doctors to discuss going on Suppressors and trailing ones that worked well for them, once they had decided on a Suppressor type they could set up a standing order for that prescription and collect it over the counter at a pharmacy of their choice. As you had had bad reactions to the most common Suppressors, you had been forced to use a type that was produced in smaller batches. A limited number of pharamices stocked those pills and only one was reasonably close. The owner of that pharmacy was an Alpha that still had archaic views on Alphas and Omegas and the roles of each Designation. 

“The Suppressors I’m on aren’t ones that are made in huge quantities. If I go to her and ask for some emergency Suppressors since I’ve left my previous prescription at home, she’d probably spend an hour lecturing me on how all Omegas are unreliable, knot-driven beasts that spend most of their time thinking about Alphas instead of taking their pills. She won’t even listen to my reason!” 

Kenma regarded you with sympathy. Since he was on the most common Suppressant, one you’d had reacted to with severe cramps and vomiting, he couldn’t just give you his and get another month’s worth from a pharmacy that wouldn’t judge. The male’s eyes widened as he thought of a temporary solution and moved to his bag. Struggling for a second, he untied the jumper that his alpha, Kuroo, had given him that morning. 

“Here, it should cover your scent and give other Alphas second thoughts on approaching you.” You smiled your gratitude and quickly pulled it over your head. Unlike many Alpha-Omegan mates, Kuroo and Kenma didn’t mind if their scents weren’t just on their mates- the entire volleyball team were like this- so you’d often been given articles of clothing from Alphas who had mates to ward off any bothersome Alphas. Before you could discuss anything else with Kenma, the teacher walked in and your class fell silent.

Sweat beading along your hairline had you huffing and quickly swiping it away. The sun was blazing down on the gymnasium but the team you managed were dedicated to training and so you had been forced to endure the heat with them. Not that you could say, with all honesty, that you really minded since the Fukurōdani team had come to practise with your team. You looked up just in time to see the Alpha Captain spiking the ball, it bouncing on the shiny floor before Yaku could get to it. Your gaze remained on the third year, taking in how his muscles flexed as he moved around the court. Even though he was on the opposing team, you couldn’t help the smile as he scored another point- or maybe it was because of his cute celebration. 

“Ho, ho, ho, what prey has caught your eyes?” Kuroo asked, sneaking up on you in your brief lapse of attention. He had wanted to sit on the sides and observe his team to locate any big weaknesses in their teamwork or form so wasn’t on the court for the friendly game. Tracing your stare back to where you had been looking at, Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Cute, our lil’ Queen has had her interest piqued. And by a bird, no less- at least it’s a bird of prey. I’m sure he’ll be able to handle your claws.” Kuroo curved his hands to resemble claws and winked at you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Just because we’re members of the Nekoma Volleyball team doesn’t mean we’re literally cats, Kuroo!” You side-eyed him. “I still don’t know why you know the term for a female cat.”

“I’m in Class 5, y’know, a college preparatory class.”

“Yeah, but you’re you! You know the full word of DHA but don’t know that sleeping without those pillows over your head will cure you of your serious bed hair.” You stood on tip-toes to pull at a strand of his black hair. The two of you both jumped apart at the louder than normal sound of a volleyball hitting the floor. Looking over you saw how Bokuto was glowering in your direction, though he seemed to be staring at Kuroo. The cold look he had on his face instantly melted when your eyes met with his and he gave you a beaming grin. You tucked a piece of hair behind your eye and shyly glanced down at the gym floor. Whilst you would have normally sent the male a smile and a wave, Kuroo standing there, no doubt observing you two, had you feeling more timid than usual.

“I’m sure, if you ever get tired of this dancing around each other, you could just go over and declare your want to Court him,” Kuroo spoke, your eyes bulging and heat blooming on your cheeks.

“Kuroo! Oh my God, why-what-would?!” You spluttered out. 

“What?” Kuroo shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you were all about being a progressive Omega. It’s not a bad thing if an Omega starts a Courtship- it’s the twenty-first century after all.” The captain studied you for a few seconds. “If you’re afraid of rejection, I’m sure that won’t happen; you two have been flirting with each other since the end of your first year- how many times has he taken you out for ice cream after a joint practice? Bo is clearly into you, look he’s puffing his chest out for you.” Peeking up you saw that Bokuto was, indeed, puffing his chest up, the action of an Alpha wanting to impress an Omega. 

“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, watching your own team for errors?” You prompted him. Kuroo narrowed his eyes at you, not liking your stubbornness. He was tired of having to spend ages listening to Bokuto gush about you plus Kenma had told him that you often texted him about the owl-looking captain. It was clear that you both had a lot in common and had great chemistry but you came from a traditional family who would disprove of you, an Omega, making the first move. It also didn’t help that you both went to different schools and were on rival teams- he had barely been able to hold back the first time someone remarked on how close you were to the Fukurōdani team, especially their captain. Since you were similar to Kenma, you wouldn’t want that type of negative attention directed towards you. 

“This isn’t over,” Kuroo warned, pointing a finger at you and turning to head back to the bench. You just laughed and moved to one of the open doors, intent on refilling the team’s water bottles to give to them once the set was over. 

Luckily, when you returned from filling the canteens up, you were greeted with a soaring Bokuto spiking the ball down onto the floor. The sheer power behind the ball forced it through Lev’s block. When both of his feet were on the ground, Bokuto knelt down and punched the air with both fists. The whistle blew as the first set went to Fukurōdani. Bokuto stood up, arms still curled not noticing how you stood in the doorway, transfixed over how his top clung to his frame in such a way that you could see the silhouette of his back muscles. 

As he walked off the court he brought up the hem of his blue shirt, using it to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, and revealed part of his six-pack. The simple action had you flustered, hand coming up to fan your face for what seemed like the fifth time in a minute. You had asked a few members sitting on the bench earlier if they had thought it was hot but all had replied with a ‘no’. The air-con and opened doors helped to keep the heat from becoming sweltering yet you still felt like you were trapped in an inferno. Before you could dwell on your sudden heated body, your team was huddling in front of Kuroo on the edge of the court and you jumped back into action.

The box filled with the drink canteens dug painfully into your hip as you shuffled to where the sweaty players were gathered. In your peripheral vision, you saw a flash of white dart forward and what sounded like the start of your name being yelled before Kuroo sauntered over and grabbed the heavy box from your grip. Normally, you would have spat at him that you could manage. Instead, you gladly handed the crate over your arms feeling both weak and heavy simultaneously.

“You okay?” The Alpha asked, worry flitting through his face as he took your flushed appearance in and how you leant on him slightly. His eyes did a quick sweep over the gym to see if there were any Alphas loitering- there had been a few occasions where a knit of brave, or dumb,  Alphas had turned up during practice to flirt with the Omegas on the team- but stopped at the pouting Bokuto. Akaashi was holding the back of his shirt to stop him from doing whatever the captain wanted to do. Judging by how his body was tilted in your direction, Kuroo assumed the Alpha was jealous of how close you were standing to him. Kuroo didn’t take it to heart that Bokuto, in his obvious attraction towards you, thought of him as a rival even though Kuroo had his own mate. He was an Alpha too and occasionally found himself growling low when he saw another Alpha near Kenma.

“I…I feel a bit faint,” you muttered, bringing his attention back to you. Frowning and handing the drink box to his Beta, Kai, he brought the back of his hand to your forehead and felt your temperature. 

“You’ve got a bit of a fever,” Kuroo muttered, hand sweeping to check your cheeks. There was a loud shout and the sound of heavy footsteps before Bokuto was next to you.

“Are you okay, (Name)-chan? Do you need to go to the infirmary?” The captain bombarded you with questions, fretting over your weak body. By this point, most of the team members had noticed your situation and were looking in your direction, Bokuto’s loud voice not helping. Your cheeks just burnt more at the extra attention. 

“I’m f-fine, Bo-kun.” You didn’t see how he lit up at the nickname, chest puffing out instinctively. “It’s probably because I haven’t had much to eat, I left my lunch at home,” you sheepishly admitted. Immediately, you heard the chirping sounds of several Alphas, an instinctive response to situations where harm could or had occurred to an Omega- the team still teased Lev over the time he had spent five minutes chirping and cuddling Yaku when his mate had gotten a paper cut. 

“(Name)-chan, that’s bad for your health,” Kuroo gently chided. Seeing that the teams were beginning to get agitated from sensing an Omega in distress, Kuroo ordered Kai to lead Nekoma’s team back onto court whilst he dealt with you, hoping that the Fukurōdani team would follow suit. Thankfully, the males fell back into place on court though Bokuto remained by your side, waving off his teammates’ questions. 

Kuroo led you to the locker rooms, knowing you wouldn’t be a fan of the attention. It was an indicator as to how out of it you were when you didn’t protest as Bokuto’s arm wrapped around your waist to help support you. You leaning into the other captain’s touch had the messy haired male raising his eyebrow but not saying anything. Kuroo instead focused on rummaging through his locker to find the spare snacks he kept there. You laid on the floor, half of your body on Bokuto as he propped you up whilst leaning his back on the wall. When Kuroo turned back, brandishing the packaged food, he noticed the white with black and gold striped jacket that your lower half was sat on; he couldn’t help but smirk at how the other Alpha’s attempts to keep you as comfortable and off the cold, hard ground as possible. 

“Here, (Name)-chan, I’ve got some food. You should’ve told me about your lack of lunch, I’d have happily shared my bento,” Kuroo gently scolded. Bokuto growled deep in his chest, arms flexing around you to pull your back closer to his chest at Kuroo’s words. Even in jest, it was a bad idea to insult the mate of an Alpha, or an Omega as Kuroo came to find out when Kenma jumped onto a female Beta for insulting his mate’s unruly hair. 

Kuroo opened the wrapper to prevent a fight. A conflict with his friend was not going to help you at all. As his Alpha was howling at him to help an Omega in distress, one, who though not his mate, was a member of his Pack, Kuroo didn’t think before he held the dry cracker up to your lips. 

Before your lips could even open to accept the food, a hiss came from Bokuto, his eyes almost glowing in the state he was. 

“Bo! She needs food, calm yourself!” Kuroo snapped at his friend. He could see your body respond to the aggression that was coming from the two males. The feline captain knew that Bo wanted you to be his mate but had thought that, since you were in his Pack, the other Alpha would be respectful enough to let Kuroo help you. At the very least, he had assumed that Bokuto would swallow his instincts if only to make you feel better quicker.

A whimper left your lips, your eyes scrunching at the fire that was flooding through your body. Immediately, you had both Alphas’ attention on. You wiggled in Bokuto’s lap, the male groaning at the feeling as your weak hands tried to pull off your tracksuit jacket. A more pathetic whine fell from your lips when you were unable to pull the zip down. The Alpha you were in the arms of being to cluck to comfort you. 

“Off, puh-lease,” you moaned out, just having enough function over your hands to tug on your jacket. Instantly, Bokuto was unzipping the clothing but stilled when the zipper was almost at the end. 

“Are you sure, (Name)-chan?” He asked, uncertainty dancing through his eyes. Even now, he didn’t want to take advantage of you. You nodded your head violently, regretting it when the action made the room swim. With as much care as he could, Bokuto took off the offending material. The moan you let out once the air met your flushed skin had both males blushing. Deciding that just having your jacket off wasn’t enough to cool you down, you pulled your black undertop as high as possible, the edges of your bra just peeking out. Bokuto swallowed and forced his gaze away from your stunning body

The owl-like captain clenched his jaws shut, eyes scrunched closed as he tried his hardest to reign his inner Alpha in. He didn’t understand why he was responding so intensely to Kuroo or you; he had been around you many times before and had had to witness your Pack cuddle you but had learnt to restrain himself. The saccharine scent that wafted into his nose had Bokuto’s eyes flying open. From your previous year testing out Suppressants, he had become accustomed to your lavender scent, though it had become diluted from your medicine. But now, it was a lot stronger than he had ever smelt.

“I… I think she’s… she’s in Heat,” Bokuto informed Kuroo.

“That’s impossible, she’s on Suppressants,” Kuroo told him, staring only at your flushed form. You had a light sheen of sweat on the skin bared to the air and you were panting. Heat would also explain your sudden spike in temperature. “Unless…. Shit!”

“What?” Bokuto asked, cradling you as gently as he could and cooing down at you when you whimpered in pain. Without thinking, one of his large hands slid over your shirt to rest on your right side, rubbing circles into the flesh. It calmed you down, your eyes sliding closed and your body turned to lay chest to chest with Bokuto. 

“Her apartment got flooded last week, she had to vacate it. (Name)-chan forgot to pack her Suppressants. She told us she was going to go back and get them yesterday but obviously she wasn’t able to,” Kuroo spoke softly, taking your appearance  in. He ignored Bokuto’s warning grumble, the male stroking your head to try and ease your pain. “Stop breathing her scent in!”

“I can’t help it!” Bokuto whined, nose pressed into the crown of your head. “She smells so good.”

Kuroo sighed, hand brushing through his black hair as he tried thinking of something. From the brief glimpse he had got, your pupils were extremely dilated and you had stopped responding to them in anything other than monosyllabic noises or through your body. 

“Did she come into school in Pre-Heat?” Bokuto’s voice was almost feral as he pictured all the Alphas leering at you. You mewled in his arms, worming your face into the crook of his neck.

“Bo, you really need to try and control yourself, she’s mainly reacting to you.” As he was already mated and your Pack Leader, your body was, at the bare minimum, not reacting to his Alpha scent. If your sudden Heat got too bad, you might start actively rejecting him since he wasn’t a viable Heat Mate.

A Heat, or Rut, Mate was typically an Alpha or Omega that stayed with another Omega or Alpha, helping them with their Heat/Rut but wasn’t their actual Mate. Heat/Rut Mates were becoming increasingly more popular, especially to the younger generations, as society changed with its civillisation’s evolving perceptions of Alphas and Omegas. This allowed Omegas and Alphas to not go through as many Heats/Ruts in as much pain without having to first find their Mate. 

“Does she have a Rut Mate?” Bokuto wheezed out. The look on his face betrayed his fear that you did have someone to help you through this intimate time. Kuroo knew that, if you did, Bokuto would let you go to them even if it would pain him.

“No,” Kuroo shook his head, eyes wandering around the room. Thankfully, all the doors and windows were shut so your scent would remain locked in the changing rooms for about another half hour. 

“We’re gun’ hafta…. Hafta move her to a… Heat Room,” Bokuto grunted out, losing himself to your enticing scent. Heat Rooms were rooms found in almost all buildings from schools, workplaces and even in some shops which were completely sound and scent proof with locks on either side to prevent Alphas, or Omegas if it was a Rut Room, from getting in and mating with the in-Heat Omega or in-Rut Alphas. 

“There’s one on the other side of the sports field,” Kuroo told him. He stood up to peer out the window. “I can’t see any Alphas out there so I think her scent has been contained so far.” He moved towards you but halted when Bokuto growled a warning at him, eyes flashing. By now your slick had made your pants completely wet, your skirt dampening as your body continued to produce it, the short material not fully hiding the sweet smelling fluids that had stuck to the back of your thighs. 

“Did you hear that, sweet ‘Mega, we’re gunna… get you to a…a Heat Room,” Bokuto whispered to you, still struggling to control himself with your scent rolling over him. He trailed a hand fervently along your cheek, heart swelling when you turned your face to nuzzle into it, eyes opening to stare up into his.

“Alpha…please,” you begged, rubbing your thighs together to try and quench the need you felt. Kuroo turned, reaching out to you in order to take you from his friend to carry you to Nekoma’s Heat Room. To his surprise, he saw you extend your arms in Bokuto’s direction. 

Although it wasn’t under the best circumstances, Kuroo knew that this could be the push you two needed to get together. He forced his Alpha down, the animal inside of him ordering him to go and protect an Omega in his Pack, and turned to stare down at Bokuto. “She’s chosen you.” He hoped that Bokuto would understand what Kuroo was implying but by the grim determination that flitted through his face had Kuroo almost growling. Whilst it was admirable that Bokuto was silencing his Alpha and the black haired male knew that he could trust the other to get you safely to the Heat Room, Kuroo was sure that Bokuto would resist all your temptations and it would end with you two dancing around each other once again.

With little effort, Bokuto scooped you up, his arms also picking up his jacket that you had been sat on. Without even looking at it fully, he could tell it was sodden with your slick. Once you were securely tucked into his chest, the Alpha sending a small cluck to tell you it was all going to be okay, he strode out of the room. The feeling of the sun’s rays directly on your skin had a quiet whine falling from your lips. Bokuto hushed you, maneuvering you so that he held you with one arm, freeing his other hand so he could pull your top down and his sports jacket around your arms to protect you from the additional heat.

You don’t really pay attention to the walk to the Heat Room; there might have been a time or two where the Alpha carrying you stopped and growled at something or someone but you weren’t fully conscious of his actions. By the time he had reached the small building which would secure the Omegas and Alphas, you had begun to beg under your breath for him to take you. Him gripping the flesh of your legs and sides was the only response he gave you to your pleas.

The Beta nurse stationed at the Heat/Rut Room jumped up from the desk and took charge, ordering Bokuto to place you into one of the free rooms. He swiftly moved around your sweating figure, checking your vitals and asking questions to the Alpha that stood by your side, hand holding yours as he answered to the best of his ability. He watched on as the nurse managed to coax you to drink a full bottle of water and take a few bites of a Heat Bar- snacks packed with as much nutrients as possible to help an Omega through their Heat. When he deemed you as stable as he could get you to be, the Nurse moved to the entrance of the room, gesturing for Bokuto to follow him. The ace did so unwillingly, keeping his hand wrapped around yours for as long as possible. When you made a noise of protest, he stopped and pressed a kiss to the back of your knuckles, promising to be by your side as quickly as possible.

“You’ll have to get her to drink a full bottle of water once every thirty minutes. A Heat Bar should be consumed about once an hour. From what I’ve gathered, this is just a Flash Heat- normally when an Omega suddenly goes off their Suppressants they can get a Flash Heat. It’s not an actual Heat as it doesn’t last as long and while it does have similar symptoms, they’re not to the extremes that an actual Heat can produce.” The Nurse didn’t give Bokuto any time to respond, leaving the Alpha to stand there and nod dumbly. “I’m assuming that you’re on Rut Suppressors; you’re under twenty, so your sperm isn’t potent but use these anyways,” the Nurse thrusted a handful of condoms into Bokuto’s arms, ones specially designed to accommodate an Alpha’s knot. “I would predict her Flash-Heat should end in probably three or four hours so you won’t have to spend the night here. Just make sure she’s as hydrated as possible and also be ready to explain this when her Flash Heat does end, she’s probably going to be very disorientated.” The Nurse looked at Bokuto, an eyebrow raised when the Alpha made no move to go to the Omega in the room. “Aren’t you going to tend to your Mate?” 

“Ah, no, I’m not her Mate!” Bokuto yelped. “Not that I wouldn’t want to be her mate, I’d love to be her Mate, but she’s not mine.”

“Right. Look, there’s an Omega in a Flash Heat in that room who is quite clearly calling for you. Her symptoms are pretty extreme for a Flash Heat, the only reason why this one so closely resembles an actual Heat is because her Mate must have been around her.” The Nurse nudged Bokuto towards the room, nodding at the unsure Alpha. With a final explanation on how to lock the door from the inside, the nurse closed the door.

The strong scent of the forest and mint had your eyes opening to see Bokuto at the foot of your bed. Everything the nurse had done to stabilise you had worked and you were more coherent; if you wanted to, you could just spend the entire time just wrapped in the Alpha’s arms as his scent would be enough to keep you settled. The Nurse had advised it would be best to mate with him at least once to flush the Heat completely out of your system. Recollections of him looking after you came back to you and, as your Omega preened at how such a strong Alpha had helped you when you were unable to look after yourself, you knew you couldn’t deny her any longer. Just seeing Bokuto there had slick dripping from your hole. You saw how the Alpha gulped as you opened your legs, allowing the scent of slick to spread to him.

“(N-Name)-chan,” Bokuto began, eyes never leaving the wet spot on your pants. 

“Please, Alpha,” you begged. “Need you.”

In a trance, Bokuto walked over, his hand trailing softly along the skin of your leg as he climbed onto the bed and knelt over you. The skin where he had traced both cooled at his touch but was also set alight at the Alpha’s caress. Your thighs fall open to give him more room yet Bokuto’s hands remained fisted in the bed sheets on either side of your hips. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, ‘Mega,” Bokuto breathed quietly, licking his lips as he saw how his voice affected you.

“Please don’t. Never stop, my Alpha.” The words broke through his restraints and the captain closed the gap between your lips. Your lips met in a frenzied manner, lips parting to let his tongue into your mouth. Your hands moved up his chest to tangle into his hair to pull him even closer. A growl left Bokuto’s lips as he dominated the kiss, drawing back to pepper kisses down your jaw. When his lips came to where your neck met your shoulder, Bokuto began to kiss the area, dragging his sharp teeth over the skin to leave it marked and you keening. As much as he wanted to, he wasn’t going to claim you fully with a Mating Bite when you were in the middle of a Heat. 

“Wish we could be d-doing this under better c-circumstances,” Bokuto told you, hands never stopping roaming your curves as if to reassure him that this was really happening.

Urgently, you tugged at the white hair at the base of his neck to guide him back up to your lips. Your tongues met in a dance of passion and when Bokuto pulled back, your teeth nipped his bottom lip to show your displeasure.

“Now, now, pretty Omega, behave,” Bokuto ordered, large hands squeezing your hips to drive his point across. You were unable to prevent your hips from bucking against him, your clothed arousal rubbing over the tent in his shorts and forcing a feral growl from him.

“You smell so fucking good,” Bokuto praised, words pouring out of his lips now that he no longer had to fight against his Alpha instincts. His hands pulled your shirt off of you, taking a few seconds to understand how your bra unhooked before it was sent flying to the floor in a similar fashion to your top. Immediately, his hands were cupping your breasts, pressing kisses to one nipple whilst his hand toyed with the other one. Bokuto’s calloused fingers had your head tossing back as he rolled your nipple between his volleyball-toughened fingers. At the sound of your gasp, Bokuto moved his head from where he was creating a hickey just below your left breast, directly over your heart, to ask you what was wrong.

“Sorry, my hands are really rough. I don’t want to hurt you,” the Alpha apologised, taking his hands off of your soft body to stare dejectedly at hands he deemed unworthy to touch you with.  You grabbed them, bringing one to your breast and pushing the other one under your skirt.

“I want to feel your fingers on my clit and curling against my walls until I’m hoarse from screaming your name, Alpha,” you whispered against his lips. You were answered with an unhinged growl. Bokuto’s eyes began to glow gold as he stopped trying to control his Alpha instincts.

His face lowered to your neck and began to leave love bites from the column of your neck to your breast, heaving as you tried to regain your breath. The sharp pricks from his teeth and how his lips kissed the marks better, switching to sucking hickeys into your flesh every so often had loud moans falling from your lips. Desperately, your hands bunched the fabric of his shirt and tugged harshly on it, making it clear you want it off. Complying with your non-verbal command, Bokuto leant back long enough to rip the shirt off his chest before bending back down and placing a kiss on your right left collar bone in response to your whine at the sudden distance. Bokuto couldn’t help the slight huff of amusement as he saw how badly you needed him to be close to you. 

Your breath hitched when you felt the Alpha’s finger press against the damp spot on your pants. The spike of pleasure as his hands brushed your clit had your fingers dragged down his broad back, fingernails leaving pink lines on the skin. Bokuto growled in his chest as he felt how wet you were from his ministrations.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” Bokuto cursed as he felt your arousal. 

“Please, touch me,” you begged him, fingers curling into his biceps.

“I am touching you,” Bokuto smirked, pressing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Don’t tease me, not like Kuroo-kun.” Saying the other Alpha’s name was a mistake as the Fukurōdani’s captain ripped your pants off and threw them over his shoulder. Your cry of his name turned into a moan as two of his fingers immediately went to circling your swollen clit. The pleasure had your eyes rolling back and offering your hips up for more. Bokuto pressed his fingers down, gathering your slick in his fingers then pulled his hand away; he hushed you gently when you let out a whine of displeasure but was busy staring at his fingers that were spread apart, your slick clinging to his fingers. 

“Look at this, so wet, ‘Mega. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You moaned at his promise and wrapped your legs around his waist to try and persuade him to hurry up.

“Patience, (Name)-chan,” Bokuto chided. He sighed then added, “I really want to go down on you, oh, what a sight you’d be as I eat you out- your thighs tight around my head and my arms pinning your hips down onto the bed so I can pleasure you how you deserve.” You felt even more slick gush out of your needy hole at his words. “But, more than anything, I want you to feel better so we’ll leave that ‘till after you’re out of this Heat, how about that?”

Before you could answer him, Bokuto pushed two thoroughly slick-covered fingers into your pussy. You both groaned as he began to pump his fingers in and out, curling his fingers so the pads massaged that spot that had your thighs shaking. Cautiously, he added a third finger, keeping his eyes on your face to know if you were in pain. When you only wiggled your hips to encourage him to continue, he began to move them in and out again to make sure you were properly ready for his cock. 

“Alpha, p-please, need your knot,” you babbled, nails scratching from his shoulders to his elbows at the pleasure. Thankfully, Bokuto just wanted to make you happy so quickly complied. Within a few seconds he had shimmied your skirt down to your ankles and guided you to turn over onto your hands and knees into the Mating Position. After a few seconds of nothing, you swivelled your head to see him pulling his shirt over his broad shoulders and push his shorts down enough to free his erection. One of his big hands traced up your thigh, taking a second to grab one of your butt-cheeks in his hands, rumbling at how it fit perfectly in his hand. The non-verbal praise had you blushing and bending your spine to push your ass into the air more. When nothing else happened, the Alpha lost in a daze as he admired your pose, you wiggled your hips to make him move. A second later, his hand came down to softly spank your rear, though with not nearly the same power as his spikes as he didn’t want to hurt his Mate, telling you to behave. 

“(Name)-chan, one last time. Do you want this to happen?” 

“Yes, Bo-kun, I want you, wanted you for the longest time. Please, please give me your knot- I need it, please.” The Alpha scrambled to rip open the condom package and pulled it over his hard dick, cutting off your pleas as he pushed his length into you. Your head dipped back as you finally felt full, Bokuto pressing his forehead against your shoulder blades, similarly affected. Bokuto stayed still for a few moments, wanting for you to be fully adjusted to his size and girth before he started to really move.

“Ready?” The white-haired male asked as he brought his right hand closer to your own hand spread out on the bed sheet. Bokuto slid his fingers between yours to give you something to hold onto. Your hand latched onto his, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Yes, Alpha, I’m ready. Oh, and Bo? Don’t hold back.”

Bokuto pushed his head into the part of your neck that met your shoulder as he withdrew from your tight walls. When only the tip was still in your pussy, he slammed back in. You groaned as you felt the pleasure race through your veins at how he stretched you out perfectly. Bokuto began to speed up his pace, the animal inside of him caring little to draw it out or make it more romantic. The sounds of skin slapping against each other quickly filled the air as Bokut continued to slam into you; each time, the tip of his cock brushed against the spongy tissue that had your shaking arms soon unable to hold you up properly.

Unable to keep your top half up your stomach fell onto the bed, deepening the arch of your back.

Bokuto moved his hands to hold your waist, the two being large enough to wrap around the majority of your frame, and held you up with his muscles. Somewhere distant in your mind, you pouted at being unable to scratch your nails down his back but you didn’t dwell too much on it as Bokuto continued to fuck the Flash Heat out of you. Putting his weight on one hand, the ace moved his free hand to rub figures of eight on your neglected clit. Your hands curled into the sheet as you felt yourself rapidly approach your high, the swelling of Bokuto’s knot helping you reach your end. Your thighs spread out more, your back bowing further as you threw your head back from the pleasure coursing through your system.

“Alpha… Alpha please, g-gunna cum,” you wailed a warning. 

“Cum on my dick, ‘Mega,” Bokuto panted, licking a strip of flesh from your neck to the back of your ear. Your entire neck was turning purple from the amount of marks he had pressed into the flesh, the sight making the Alpha preen and his knot swell.

When the Alpha raked his teeth down the right side of your neck, you came with a shout, your Heat having enhanced everything by a hundred. Feeling your walls clench around him had Bokuto roaring and coming undone, his knot catching on the rim of your pussy and tying him to you. The Omega in you whined at how you couldn’t feel his cum spurt deep inside of you but just the feel of his knot expanding had you purring.

You started when you felt a tongue lave over some of the bites on your necks, Bokuto beginning to groom you. A giggle left your lips as you tilted your head back into him, not used to this. The volleyballer grinned at how at ease you were, the Alpha in him also content. Bokuto wrapped his arms around you so he could gently manoeuvre the two of you into a laying position, doing his best not to tug at where the two of you were connected to not overstimulate you. Once on your sides, the captain reached to the bedside table where the Nurse had left a few bottles of water and snack bars. He twisted the lid off, your half-shut eyes greedily drinking in how his muscles flexed at the action. When he pressed the bottle to your lips, you gulped down the water, only realising then how parched your throat had become from the Mating. When it was half empty, you pulled it away and nudged it to Bokuto to drink. He finished it up and threw it into the bin near the room.

“How long will your knot last?” You asked, sighing as his muscular arms draped along your waist. 

“Thirty minutes maybe.” You almost choked at how long it was- most knots lasted for fifteen minutes. For his to last so long showed just how strong an Alpha he was. “How are you feeling? Still feverish? Hungry?”

“I think the Flash Heat has gone, just you being near me was enough to drive most of it away,” you admitted, a hand absently trailing along the veins running along his forearm. The Alpha behind you nuzzled into the back of your neck. 

“That’s good, I’m happy that you’re feeling better. Maybe after this we can go get ice cream… y’know, to replenish the lost calories.” You couldn’t help but giggle at how he was still not asking you. Replaying what Kuroo had told you earlier, you decided to just go for it.

“Bo-kun, after this is over, would you let me… Court you?” 

“WHAT! NOO!” You cringed at his rejection but soon relaxed as he continued to shout. “I was supposed to be the one to ask you that! No the other way ‘round.”

“Bo-kun, do you want to Court me?” You asked with a giggle, interrupting his sulking moment. He instantly perked up, a massive grin on his face.

“I would be honoured to!” You smiled and leant in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell the rest of them you were the one who popped the question.”

[smoll-tangerine]

KASGAKSVKA WAIT WTF REALLY??? I DID NOT EXPECT TO RECEIVE GOOD NEWS TODAY AND IT'S ONLY 2:43 AM AAAAAAA THANK U NINI MAY YOUR PILLOW BE WARM/COLD/WHICHEVER TEMPERATURE YOU PREFER AND UR PHONE FULLY CHARGED WHEN U WAKE UP ILY DEF LOOKING FORWARD TO IT <<33

KFJSKFJSKFS YES REALLY!! i think i mentioned it in one of my previous asks, but i had the intention of writing an epilogue because i did hint towards the end that sicheng and the duchess will end up together sometime in the future, and that epilogue will be about them(?) and hendery and yn making amends

BUT THANK YOU!! it's thanks to readers like you that i can continue writing on tumblr💛💛

[fenheart87]

Goats Gone Wild

The rehearsals went perfectly, despite everyone saying that it might fall apart and completely spiral out of control and that would to be expected as it was rehearsal and gave them time to fix it. The flower arrangements were gorgeous, Jagged cried when he saw his official wedding suit and Penny had successfully been conned into taking an actual spa day to relax and have a great time with the ladies in her wedding party. 

Tom and Sabine were of course on cake duty in providing other food and refreshments for the big day. With them in charge no one was concerned that the seasoned caterers would have any trouble. The tables and chairs were tastefully decorated and with just enough 'rock n' roll' vibe for Jagged to not complain too much because Jagged always be Jagged.

Of course, for the power duo of the music world, fate may have approved for them to meet, fall in love and live long enough to plan the wedding but it didn't have to be nice all the time. A small mishap and the power was out most of the night, delaying everything from food to simply getting ready for most of the practical preparations. 

Marinette was running on no sleep, no faith and after the power outage, no coffee. Everyone had their wedding clothes and the weather predicting rain at some point made it seem like a tiny accomplishment. Those who had cars to drive would be fine and most could take extra passengers but it would take some people two trips. She had spoken to her Maman and Papa already, they had put the cake in the deep freeze plus had a gas/solar powered generator to offer a space for others in the wedding party.

She still had no idea who would be escorting her down the aisle to fulfill her Maiden of Honor duty, there wasn't time to meet him now because they were sorely behind schedule. Pushing the thought to the side, Marinette slipped into a chic dress but not the one for the ceremony. That was safely at the venue they had booked just in case they needed a place to relocate. Sending up a quick prayer and a threat that this would be a memorable day, Marinette grabbed her clutch and left her apartment.

Marinette could distantly hear her phone ringing even though it was right besides her. She had yet to exit the safety of her car as she watched the chaos unfold. There was a small zoo of animals running around and Jagged was riding a llama, Fang happily scaring the poor creature. Nimbly she picked up her still ringing phone and answered it.

"H-hello?"

"Is this Marinette?"

"Yes I'm Ma-ma-Marinette… Who are you?"

"Ah I'm Luka the best man, Jagged and Penny paired us to walk down the aisle together. Things are uh pretty chaotic and I haven't seen you yet so just making sure you're not the one getting cold feet."

"No, I uh just pulled up. Where did the petting zoo come from?"

"Jagged's idea."

"You know, sometimes I forget he's technically a Couffaine then he pulls shit like this. Where is Anarka when I need the courage to slam his famous and insured face?" Her neck gave up trying to support her head and she let it flop forward to blare her horn, startling the llama and delighting Jagged as he fought to stay seated.

"I'll come to you." Luka's voice was actually soothing and calmed Marinette's nerves enough to move her head to the steering wheel. Distant sounds of goats screaming at each other and the loudness that was Jagged seeped into her quiet space within the car. A light knock on the window drew her from her quiet place within her mind, and Marinette emerged from her car instead of just rolling down the window.

Luka was tall and slender, ocean blue eyes matched the tips of his hair and would match the color of her dress for the ceremony perfectly. He radiated a soft aura that drew her into staring for longer than appropriate.

"Well hello there fair Maiden of Honor."

"Ah yes hello mysterious Best Man. Would you happen to know how bad things are?" The designer bravely faced the stream of messages on her phone, some only minutes old and others hours old. Asking for an update methodically from everyone individually, she let Luka guide her into the venue.

"Jagged is currently trying to convince Penny to keep a llama or a goat from the petting zoo, half of the guests are either not coming at all or left because of the chaos you see around you. The wedding party is here and just enough people to provide witnesses and news coverage. One of the photographers had to back out and the fill in is allergic to the flowers, his only allergy actually, nice guy otherwise. The goats have eaten some of the décor and their fearless mountain climbing leader took off with the ring pillow."

"Where the rings are sewed on… So at this point, the cake is the only thing safe. I can work with that, first let's find Penny because I'm sure her blood pressure is through the roof, next we need to remove the flowers that are a problem, if Ivan is here then he has the fake bouquets in his van and we can put those inside and have the photographer that's not allergic take the pictures outside. Jagged will be Jagged but when it's time he will behave and only have eyes for Penny so let him do his thing. We need to find the rings so get as many people looking for them as we can. Once I check on Penny I'll figure out the rest, I'm getting updates and rearranging as we speak."

"You know, this is kind of weird for me…" Sky blue eyes met ocean and time suspended again for a moment, "I know Jagged considers you like his unofficial niece so it makes it weird that you are absolutely beautiful and I feel like he might try to kill me for just being around you."

"N-no it's fine! I mean he chose after all, if he has a problem I'll take a page from the captain's book!" A blush graced her pale cheeks, accenting the light blush she had applied earlier. "Now go be a Best Man and make sure the groom doesn't sign his life away and marry a llama instead."

"Aye aye fair maiden." Luka winked and parted ways, leaving Marinette’s heart racing more than it was before.

"Stupid pretty boy with their stupid smiles… Penny, are you in here?" Marinette knocked on the door, waiting until it opened.

"Hey Mari, I knew what would happen when I said yes to Jagged but please no more animals."

"Don't worry, no more animals. The cake is fine but I need to find your rings which I guess a goat ran off with?" 

"Yeah, Jagged wanted to get a picture and the goat took advantage." Penny laughed and resumed her seat where Jean-Luc was already fixing her make-up.

"So this is going to be Plan P?" Marinette teased, taking a moment to change into the other dress.

"You bet! Once the circus is over here we will all meet up at your parents bakery for cake and food." Penny winked carefully, causing the younger woman to giggle.

"Let me go find those rings." Throwing on some flats, Marinette left the room with a wave and headed outside. If the goat was a mountain goat then he was probably hidden with the trees. Hiking up her skirt and trekking through the mud that was somehow everywhere and followed the distant sounds of child-like screaming.

There stood the goat, calming chewing on the ring pillow and staring at her with it's judgmental eyes.

"Okay, you give that back right now."

"MAAAAAA!!!" It bleated loudly before resuming its speedy chewing

"Don't make me do this…" The designer tried to get closer and the goat kept retreating with every step. "Oh come on! You know, what fine!"

"MAAAAAA!!" It screamed again and she took the chance to lunge and tackled the goat into the mud. Trying to get a solid grip on the ring piow was difficult as the goat kept trying to kick here or just rip the pillow in two, she wouldn't mind that much, after all it's the rings she was after.

"Just give me the rings and you can keep the stupid pillow you ugly stupid goat!" Marinette grunted as it became a test of tug of war, the sound of fabric ripping made her panic and kick the goat. It worked to get the goat to let go but it charged her and screamed in her face. The sound covered up the approach of the two men.

"Uh Marinette, why are you wrestling with a goat?"

"Oh you know, thought I would try my hand at it, have you seen these guns from gator chasing," She flexed one arm a couple times, "or how about these legs?" Hiking her skirt up wasn't her best idea ever but it was so worth the blush and cute word vomit from her wedding date.

"I uh well, yeah. I mean- you look hot as IN YOU'LL NEED TO COOL OFF BEFORE THE WEDDING!" Luka groaned and covered his eyes in shame.

"Oi mate, are you ogling my goat?" Dingo slapped his back, nearly causing the musician to topple into the mud with Marinette and the goat who resumed chewing on the ring pillow it had stolen, the rings recovered sneakily.

"Okay, the arch can burn for all I care and maybe fry up some bacon if we're lucky." She accepted Luka's help to get up and onto a less muddy patch of grass. The trio made their way back, Dingo as she learned, was fond of Napoleon and argued the entire way back.

"I'll 'ave you know that pigs are some the best pets!"

"No way, Hamster all the way! You can't even own one in the city unless it's a teacup pig and why would you even want one?"

"Oi! All pigs are cool, you can't just love one kind because that's not true devotion!" 

"Will you two stop-" Luka froze as the smell of smoke wafted closer and squinted thoughtfully. Was that, yup the arch was burning. 

"Great, Plan P is fully in action now!" The maiden of honor groaned, slapping her hands over her mud smeared face.

"Oh god no! Please spare Napoleon! No bacon at this wedding!" Dingo sprinted across the field to where the pigs were kept.

"Well let's find the bride and groom and get the hell outta here." Luka proposed, calmly walking the rest of the way with Marinette keeping pace. There was a firefighter giving directions to everyone to stand far away from the building and the burning arch.

"Well this is not what I expected…" A tall blond muttered to himself, standing apart from the rest of the group.

"Well it is a Couffaine wedding, they are chaos magnets." Marinette joked, attempting to rid herself and dress of the half dried dirt clods.

"Well Jagged has always been… Unique. Good to see you again Marinette."

"I resent that, Jagged is the dumpster fire and Penny is the best and craziest person on earth since she somehow agreed to marry that mess."

"Uh, who are you?"

"Me? Wait, Marinette don't tell me you're mad at me again!"

"Luka what on earth-"

"This is why I told Pa it was better if we didn't show up to his wedding, your anger issues. First you nearly gave poor Nona a scare when you wanted to eat Napoleon, then set the arch on fire and lastly took off after Samuel, a poor defenseless goat."

"Uh how do you know each other?"

"Oh this again?! Lemme tell you, this little spitfire is my wife and she's been pissed at me ever since our arranged marriage was official on paper."

"Luka! That's enough!" The mud on her face hid the blush but the tips of her ears were it began to flake glowed red.

"Baby, you know we're supposed to talk when you're angry with me, that was the agreement."

"Shove it up your ass!"

The wail of sirens startled the three adults but what nearly knocked them over was a blur of neon green, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"HELP ME MATE, I CAN'T GO BACK! IT'S NOT SAFE!!"

The station was filled with a workflow hum as the entire wedding party and a few guests waited in the cell block for someone to explain why everyone had been arrested and brought in. Marinette had made use of the sink and cleared off as much dirt from her being as she could. Penny was steadily ignoring Jagged who at this point had been pleading with her and trying to get a straight answer if they would still be tying the knot or not. 

"Couffaine! You're next!" The Sargent growled, shuffling paperwork around. Roger was slowly trying to inch away to not be caught in the crossfire and pulling the rookie away with him.

"Uh which one sir?"

"What do you mean which one?! Just Couffaine!" The Sargent snapped, taking a deep pull of his coffee. When he looked up to see a group of people his face went stone blank.

"Okay so uh, maybe start with the charges and we can help decipher the correct Couffaine?" The petite Chinese woman bite her lip in nerves, echoed by the blond dressed in a matching pink dress. Glancing around he saw a slender woman holding the hand of said blonde in pink, also in a nice party dress. A man with purple hair to match, oh Jagged Stone, was dressed in a suit with a spin. Another woman with purple hair standing next to him and dressed in the more elaborate gown. He easily recognized Anarka by her grey hair and fierce glare, even if she was cleaned up nicely. To the left of the only one brave enough to speak was a young man, a flower in his lapel matching the one on her dress but with light blue tipped hair. Behind him was a kid with a mohawk that nearly grazed the ceiling and a slender brunette who was trying to keep from bouncing around the cell.

"Sorry Sargent…?" The woman tried again, offering a hesitant smile.

"Sargent Le Grand and you are who?"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng  uh Couffaine." He blinked twice and looked back through the paperwork.

"Why the hell did no one even specify male or female for the perp?! Or a first name, even an initial would be helpful!"

"Sorry Sarge, I uh just -"

"Forget it rookie, there are a pile of complaints and I can't read them aloud so why don't you tell me what you're in trouble for and I'll find the ticket?"

"Uh that's just it sir… We were all rounded up at the wedding and brought here with no explanation."

"I do not get paid enough for this." He downed the remaining coffee and left the desk, making his way into his office.

"Oi where are you goin'?! You can't keep us cage like a bunch of goats!" The mohawk kid finally escaped the brunette and rattled the jail bars.

"Someone figure out these charges and get them out of my cell!" Sargent le Grand promptly got up and went into his office, slamming the office door shut.

“Roger, why donna ya be a good boy and let me and me crew out of here? You know we have the Boat Fund for when you’re hoititty rules and our love of chaos clash.”

“Anarka, I really do have to charge the tickets before we can discuss payment. uh, “ Roger glanced at the Sargent’s door and saw it still closed. “Okay so we have one charge of setting public property on fire, one count of illegal animal petting zoo, “

“He said he was rock ‘n roll with her permits!”

“One count  of naming your pig Napoleon, haven’t seen that in a while…”

“Oi! I can name my piggy whatever I please!”

“Two counts of animal abuse, one for feeding the goats pillows and one for what’s assumed trying to bury it alive,”

“Oh please, I had to chase it through the woods and mud because it took off with the pillow in the first place!”

“One count for act of terrorism, this one being related to flowers and serious life-threatening allergy,”

“He was a fill in, he signed the disclosure and those charges are bogus.”

“And to wrap it up, one count of illegally sailing in the city.”

“Give me Liberty or give me death!”

“I’m just going to mark all this down and charge the fund. I do apologize for having to crash your wedding Mister Stone and Miss Rolling, I do hope you have plans to finalize your commitment.” Roger opened the cell door and everyone filed out, Dingo sticking his tongue out before being smacked by three different hands.

“Oi!”

“Oi nothing fashion hazard!” Marinette snapped, moving to the front of the group. “Here’s what we’re going to do, everyone is going to quietly make their way to my parents bakery which is just a couple blocks away. While we are there, we can take turns cleaning up and then enjoy a nice meal and some delicious cake that Papa has worked so hard to make perfect for today. At this point, if someone is ordained and could marry them while at my parents house that would at least complete my to-do list.”

“I got ya mate! Let’s gooooo!” Dingo whooped and took off running while Brielle shared a look with Luka before following.

“Well definitely a memorable day wouldn’t you say Marinette?” Penny asked as she slipped her arm around the younger’s.

“I’ll say… You aren’t thinking of having spawns with him are you?”

“Hey, rock n roll is the life for me, no worries my favorite rock n roll designer!” Jagged chimed in, pausing his argument with the Captain for a moment.

“Aye, with Juleka and Luka that’s all the extra chaos he needs.”

“Uh I can explain…” Luka hunched over and raised his shoulder’s to hide somewhat.

“Wedding first then you can use the rest of the time to explain.”

[sleekervae]

Young God [0.1]

Masterlist

July 2011

Her alarm didn't wake her up, but the carnivorous notions of the oncoming day did. Taylor's first show was today. Her first show in America, to be precise. The very idea that she had touched down and was in California in the first place was enough to send goosebumps rippling down her arms and her palms break out into sweats. And Taylor used the phrase 'carnivorous' in the sense that if she didn't put on a good show, she'd be eaten alive by the crowds and never be able to break out across the pond.

Steadily now, Taylor threw the blanket off her head and ran her fingers through the knots and tangles in her blue hair. Behind her was the soft down pillow, and she frowned when she saw the faint stains of black makeup in the linen. Oh, fuck me, she thought to herself. She wiped the crusties from her eyes, and as her vision came into focus she found various liquor bottles scattered across the coffee table. In a bedroom? Oh, that's right; she slept in the living room, on the pullout sofa to be specific. That was why her head was pounding... and why her clothes smelled like the inside of a dirty pub.

Taylor stood on shaky legs, frowning when she saw she was only dressed in an oversized sleep shirt and her panties. Fuck, where were her clothes, now? Taylor held her head as she wandered through the flat, cursing to herself when she suddenly stubbed her toe on the corner of the base boards.

"Oh! -- Motherfuck..."

In the kitchen she found a few more glasses randomly distributed across the countertop, some empty, others smudged with various shades of lipsticks and dirty finger prints. Taylor picked up one, in the glass a liquid that consisted of a ruby red pigment. She didn't care much for what it was, she'd brush her teeth later on. Taylor knocked back the leftover drink, vodka burning down her throat while the sour tinge of the cranberry juice it was mixed with made her lips pucker. Afterwards she went to the sink and filled the glass with cold water, then downed that as well in a single gulp.

Her weary legs took Taylor to the bathroom. The door was closed, and Taylor grumbled when she found it was locked. Inside, she could hear the echo of the shower beating against cold tile. Fucking shame, she needed to take a piss and she smelled like a mini fridge after New Years.

"I fuckin' -- good Lord, Worsnop," she raised her fist and knocked briskly against the door, knowing fully well what a whore Danny was when it came to his showers, "Danny! Hurry up! I need a whizz!" she called through her banging.

"Wait two minutes, Tay!" his usual soft, Yorkshire accent was gravely and gruff. Taylor then pictured Danny as some sort of hybrid singing werewolf because of it.

"No! Either get out or I swear to God -- I'll squat over your ferns!" she shouted. At that, the beating of water quickly ceased, and Taylor stood back with a sly smirk on her face as she heard the bathroom door unlock. It opened and out came a sopping wet Danny with water dribbling down his beard and a towel wrapped firmly around his waist. He shivered as he stepped aside for Taylor, chuckling to himself.

"You're a right prick when you're hungover, Taylor," he said, "The Geordies would be so ashamed of ya!"

"Oh yeah," Taylor sighed, "Look how broken up I am about the fucking Geordies. And clean up that mess out there; you want the people to think we're slobs?" and with that, she slammed the door in his face. Immediately, she was engulfed in the pleasant scent of men's shampoo.

Danny knocked on the door then, "Oi! Why do I gotta' clean it up? You helped make the mess!" he called.

"Yeah! But it's your flat!" Taylor called back, "And I'm your guest,"

"They don't say flats here, Tay," Danny chuckled. Taylor rolled her eyes as she heard his footsteps swish away.

"Whatever," locking the door behind her, Taylor turned to face the mirror and examined the ugly reflection of frizzy blue hair, dark circles and blackened eyelids -- a true indication that she was indeed hungover and on the cusp of a breakdown.

Well she was young, ripe at twenty years of age, and either of those fit well.

She pulled a gag face and tended to her business with the toilet. Afterwards, she ran the cold water from the alabaster sink and proceeded to splash cold water onto her face several times over, scrubbing at her skin with a wash cloth to get rid of the old makeup. Unfortunately, her taste in makeup was good quality, because all the makeup did was slide and stick to her skin.

I don't have the patience today...

Taylor squirted a bare-minimum amount of toothpaste onto her toothbrush and popped it into her mouth, shuddering when she heard a knocking at the door.

"How long ya' gonna' be?" Danny asked, "Not that I'm trying to rush you," Again, Taylor rolled her eyes and unlocked the door, to which Danny took as an invitation to enter. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw the makeup streaked over Taylor's face.

"Not funny, you wanker," she spit through the blue foam.

"I'm not laughing at you, Taylor; I'm only laughing with you," he replied simply.

"I heard that bullshit before," she spat out the fluff and started again, "What time do we gotta' be at the park?"

Danny reached past her face, opening the medicine cabinet to grab his razor and shaving cream, "Somewhere around ten-ish," he replied, "We got some time to kick around, grab a coffee. How ya' feeling?"

"Like I crawled out of a garbage can," she said.

Danny chuckled again, "Besides the hangover, love,"

Taylor spat out the rest of her toothpaste and wiped her mouth with her wrist, turning to Danny with sunken eyes, "Honestly -- I wanna' go home,"

He squirted a bare amount of shaving lotion into his hand and proceeded to smear over and around his soggy beard, "No. Why?" Danny asked.

"Because," Taylor replied, "I ain't gonna' fit in, Dan. I know I won't,"

Danny scoffed back as he switched on his razor, "Taylor, none of us fit in. That's why we go to Warped Tour -- for the weirdos," he said, "And you're the perfect weird addition to our fucked up little family,"

Taylor glowered back at him, "That was a backhanded-compliment, Dan," she stated.

"I'm sorry, Tay. But I can't be as charming when I'm hungover," he said. Taylor threw down her toothbrush and brushed passed Danny, charging into the flat to look for her bag. It wasn't in the living room and it wasn't in the bedroom, where the fuck did he put it?

"It's not just the tour, though," she said, "It's America," she threw her hands up as though to make a dramatic point.

Danny shuffled along in his large bath towel, a quarter shaven and visually following her manic movements as she scoured through his flat, "While I admit it may not be the greatest country in the world, it ain't fucking bad," he said, "They're age restrictions are a little whack,"

"You're telling me. Can't drink until you're twenty-one, fucking bollocks," Taylor huffed as she tried not to trip over the remaining bottles on the floor, "I'm just a little worked up over performing to an American crowd. I don't know how they're gonna' react to me, is all," she said.

"Babe, come on," Danny awed at her, "You was a smash in England, you'll be a right smash in America, too,"

"You're just saying that 'cause I'm your friend and you feel obligated to make me feel better," she replied, then suddenly growling out loud, "Where is my fucking stuff!?"

"In my bedroom," Danny replied oh-so-matter-of-factly. Taylor glowered at him.

"Why is it there?"

"I told you it was there, you said you'd unpack it later on,"

"That was before you got me drunk,"

"We was celebrating!" he cried, "You're big American debut!"

"American debut my skinny arse!" she charged into his bedroom without another word. Danny meanwhile snickered to himself as he shuffled to his fridge, he was suddenly feeling a tad peckish.

"Oi! Finish shaving before you go snacking!" Taylor called suddenly, "You'll look like a rabid dog," Danny's only response was a dramatic, long-winded dog howl.

Andy lit his first cigarette of the morning and leaned against the cold wall of his bus, unpleased at the rising heat that coated his pale skin in a light sheen of sweat. The blue sky still had wisps of the previous evening's indigo and the sun was burning down more intensely than he'd prepared for, which left him feeling rather stifled and uncomfortable, a stark contrast to the cool, air-conditioned environment of the bus he'd been in moments before. It was California days such as this that made him consider cutting back his long hair.

There was more time than usual to kill before the show today and Andy had hoped that everyone would partake in a drink or two whilst they threw around some new ideas, but the boys had instead wandering off for a pre-show meal before their own soundcheck. Left to his own devices, it hadn't take long until he had resorted to a shot of whisky in his coffee, then, feeling miserable, full of self-pity and not at all in the mood to write, he had wandered outside for a smoke.

He puffed his hair from his face feeling it already begin to stick to his forehead. Maybe it was time for a trim. He wondered what he'd look like if he buzzed it all off or changed his style completely. As he smoked, he considered the setlist they'd compiled, he checked his phone and scanned through his messages, he yawned several times and contemplated going back to his bunk, then he took a final drag deep into his lungs, watched it escape through his lips and disappear into thin strands of wispiness above his head before crushing the cigarette with the heel of his boot.

His boredom had gotten the best of him to the point that he decided to wander around the park to kill some time. With it being still early, vendors were still popping and setting up their tents and buses were slowly rolling into the parkade. He felt the eyes of some onlookers, either taking notice for his metal aesthetic or they recognized his long dreads and skinny physique from the posters and t-shirts that were being laid out for fans to purchase later on. Andy grinned suddenly when the familiar twang of rippling guitars ghosted through his ears and he headed towards the MainStage.

A few hours later Taylor stood to the side of the stage, feeling somewhat refreshed, though her head still clung to the smallest trace of a headache just to make her miserable. As if anything could be worse, she was still jet lagged and wanted to go back to bed. She tried to sleep it off in the van, but her tour manager, Robin, barely gave her a moments rest as she went through Taylor's schedule for the next week. Taylor was extremely grateful to have Robin as her manager -- she was the perfect composition of organized and kick-ass. But bloody hell, she was fucking persistent when it came to Taylor's scheduling. Perhaps that was why she had the job in the first place?

Danny was a fantastic showman, he held this charisma that just commanded everybody in the audience -- well, soundcheck -- to pay attention to him and his band: Asking Alexandria. Or perhaps everybody was just staring at that ridiculous fedora he had on today? When they got to soundcheck, Ben refused to let up on how ancient that hat made Danny look, as though he stepped out of a scene from The Great Gatsby.

"You said you'd love me for better or worse, Ben!" Danny cried dramatically.

"I didn't say I'd love that fucking hate, mate," Ben chided back.

Taylor loved watching the band perform, though today she found she couldn't get into their energy as much. She was too on edge, perhaps from the three cups of coffee she'd consumed before she left the flat -- sorry, apartment. She was too nervous for her own gig. Taylor looked over her shoulder at the empty field, a field which would soon be filled with cheering -- or jeering -- audiences. Taylor was new meat, one of the starting-acts, and that was daunting enough to make her stomach turn; and not just from the hangover.

She could still remember her first show back home in Gateshead; many of her friends were there, and they invited friends of friends and so on. Many loved her, others booed at her. Taylor could still hear the ridicule of one audience member who called her Joan Jett wannabe. That just made her want to work harder, prove to them that she was fantastic on her own. She wasn't trying to be the next Joan, or the next Debbie Harry, or Stevie Nicks. Taylor wanted to be the first Taylor Wray.

"This next one I'd like to dedicate to our good friend, Taylor Wray," Danny spoke into the microphone, eliciting little reaction from the stagehands and roadies who watched them. Taylor meanwhile grinned and gave Danny a little wave.

"This one's called 'I Used to Have a Best Friend, But He Gave Me An STD'," and with that, Taylor's smile vanished and she flipped her middle finger at him.

"Fuck you, Danny!" she shouted.

"Right back at ya', love!" Danny called back. With that, the band tore into the song and started jamming out.

Taylor rolled her eyes and instead pushed herself up to sit on the guard rail, tapping the heel of her leather boot in time to James' drum set. She jumped suddenly when she felt a buzz reside within the back pocket of her jeans. Her phone lit up with a text from Maxeen, the bassist of her touring band. She was just wondering what time soundcheck was.

The MainStage was within Andy's line of sight and he wandered through the grass and weeds to watch Asking's set. Watch -- and maybe heckle a bit. From the stage, Ben caught sight of his long-haired mate crossing the threshold, and he stopped mid-strum to wave him down. Lifting his head as he turned back to face his friend, Andy crosses the field, eager to watch his friends but stopped dead in his tracks when his brain caught up with his vision and he realized he wasn't the only spectator in the park.

Sat on the guardrail was a young woman, swinging her legs back and forth as her feet could just touch the second bar in her heeled ankle boots. Her vibrant, teal blue hair immediately caught Andy's attention. When she noticed Ben waving, she shifted to turn and spotted Andy coming her way. When Andy's gaze caught hers, he nearly lost his composure.

He knew it could have only lasted for seconds, that there was no way in which the consistency of time could have altered for him and his own sudden and ridiculous longing, but he could have sworn then, just for a moment, as he laid eyes on her for the first time, that everything fell deadly still around him and begged him to notice her.

And notice her he did.

Her eyes were big and round, lined in black eyeliner and glittered with green, shimmery eyeshadow that brought a warmth to her brown irises. Her jeans were ripped in the knees and the tattoos on her bare arms were on display in the oversized Abbey Road muscle tee she wore. Her thick teal curls flowed in the wind as she ran her free hand back through her locks and he noted the effort it took to detangle her fingers from the strands.

There was an abundant softness about her that made him sigh out loud, a gentle spunk that made him feel as if he'd damage her just from the intensity of his stare but she still gave off an ember of effervescent vibrance when she turned the corners of her lips up at him, his heart thudding against his ribcage just from the bravery in the way she held his gaze.

As if she could feel the way in which he thirstily drank her in, Taylor slowly looked him up and down, catching Andy off guard. He blinked once or twice, just to have something to do besides marvel at her and bit the inside of his cheek to confirm he wasn't dreaming, but now certain that she was looking at him, that her friendly smile was for him -- Andy just about melted.

[alolanrain]

Cold

Galar is cold. The coldest Region Ash has ever been to and this is including Sinnoh. He’s wearing his thickest sweatshirt and pants, full on gloves instead of those fingerless ones. Gou is shivering next to him, the mountain dog anthro is still fairing better though since his anthro shift was made for this weather.

Ash’s tail lashed out and then quivered. Wrapping around his stomach and squeezing his middle. Gou eyed Ash, it’s not like Ash even has an inkling of control over his appendages. Ash just wants to get to the hotel and call it a very early night, since it’s only like three in the afternoon.

Their Specifically in Wyndon, for the worldwide Championship that all champions have to be at. Well all this year, the last twelve Ash has been sneaking by with Drake going in his stead but now Lance had put his foot sown firmly now that Ash is a double titled Champion.

“You can explore,” Ash pointed a shaky finger at Gou, Pikachu making it a bit hard with the way he was hunkering down on his shoulder, “I’m going to be taking a long ass nap.”

Gou snorted and rolled his eyes, “yeah, whatever.” He snipped back. Maybe the cold was getting to him more then Ash thought. But that didn’t matter now, getting to a warm room with a fluffy bed is more important.

“How may I help you this afternoon?” The receptionist asked politely. Though she eyed them like they were at the bottom of her shoes. Rich neighborhoods suck. Pikachu bristled slightly but calmed down when Ash pet the back of his partners tail that was on his other shoulder.

“Master suite for Champion Ash Ketchum on the Alt floor.” Ash mumbled. Pulling out his Champion card and putting it in the little machine right next to the computer behind the desk wall. It was custom at this point that every high end hotel had one of these machines to actually check if people were impersonating a Champion or not. Not like it would be easy with all the mythical and strong animal anthro’s on the line up. The only one closest to a plain human was Ash, a simple house cat Calico anthro, even then the red in his fur was so rich in color that the most expensive dye jobs can’t reach it.

“Oh sorry,” the lady was soon loosing her mock happiness, “it doesn’t look like-“

“The lights green.” Ash stopped her. Tiredly looking at the green light on top of the small black box. Not only was the color indicating that he is in fact a Champion, but also that he does have a room rented.

The receptionist grit her teeth in a false smile that faltered as her eyes moved to something with a slight horror on her face.

Before Ash could move, and with the fact that Gou gasped pretty hard right after the change in the Receptionist’s face, a light hand ghosted from the outside of his shoulder over to his neck. Ash unconsciously moved his head when the hand ran up his neck to cup his jaw.

“You’re freezing.” Good old Wallace. Blunt as ever.

“I feel freezing.” Ash couldn’t help the slight whine filtering into his voice. He lent into Wallace’s hand that still cupped his jaw a little and eyes fluttered closed for a few milliseconds before slowly opening again. Pikachu chirped in greeting to the Champion and Wallace moved his other hand to pet under the mouse’s chin.

“Get your room keys,” Wallace motioned you the small envelope, Gou moved and snagged them off the counter, tossing it to Ash who caught it on reflex, “I’ll escort you and your friend up to your room.”

“Thank you.” Ash whispered. Moving to lean into the taller man’s side. Pikachu gave an appreciative chirp when the blue haired man’s warm hand pet down the spine of the yellow Pokémon.

“Thank you, Champion Wallace.” Gou was more formal. Bowing quickly while walking before catching up to the two who stepped into the elevator.

“It’s no problem,” Wallace’s light cyan angel wings spread out a little to cup behind Ash and Pikachu, “I warned Lance this wasn’t the right time to introduce you. You’ll be shivering and teeth chittering the entire time.” He ran the hand behind Ash’s back from the middle of his shoulders down to the small of his back.

Gou eyes the two Champions, mentally stopping himself from asking why their so affectionate with each other. It was answered soon after when the elevator door opened onto the secret floor when they came face to face with the retired Ex-Champion Steven Stone and Champion Alder.

“Ashton!” Alder belowed happily. Moving to allow the trio out into the floor before pulling Ash into a hug. Minding his fluffy tail that spazzed a bit before winding around the man’s thick ankle. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Hi Alder,” Ash sniffed back some snot before moving to curl tighter into the hug, “long time no see.”

“Hello, Ash.” Steven hesitantly reaches out before cupping the back of Ash’s jaw and neck and running his hands up into the semi long hair to brush some hair back. “Your shaking.” Steven frowned.

“I told Lance,” Wallace muttered again while coming closer and pressing a quick kiss into Steven’s hair before facing Ash who was still curled into the hug with Alder, The man never minding how cold the calico anthro is, “but he never listens.”

“It’s because he’s a dragon.” Ash grumbled as he forced himself away from the really warm hug with the gargoyle shifter. “He’s warm all the time no matter what weather, it clouds his judgement.”

“But for twelve years?” Wallace didn’t look to convinced.

“I don’t know,” Ash was fully whining now, “I’m just super tired and really want a bed.”

“Room one hundred and twelve right?” Steven asked. Thumbing at his phone which must have all the Champions room numbers on them.

“Ye.” Ash grunted. Reaching back and grasping for Gou’s hand before trotting behind light gray angel. He didn’t really pay attention to the passing rooms theirs only a few until they reached to the biggest one, which usually goes to Lance since he’s the oldest and the longest lasting Champion

———

It wasn’t long after that when Ash was finally sliding into a big plush bed in his room. Gou right across the hall, the mountain dog anthro had made a point in declaring nap time for him also, so Ash doesn’t have to worry to much in case another Champion or some hotel staff accidentally thinks Gou is sneaking in with a stolen card. Ash doesn’t need a fucking repeat two year ago when he brought Dawn with him that one time to a large scale conference and she was accidentally accused of thieft of Ash’s second key card and trying to sneak into their shared room.

Ash was pretty vicious with both Lance and Drake, who had accused the girl, and publicly dragged their ass’s to the police station to make them pay bail for Dawn. Berating and verbally ripping into the Chinese dragon anthro’s the entire time while sitting next to Alder who drove them there.

He both made them apologize and he and Dawn went to a thrift store to go get some ice cream before heading back to the hotel where they stayed up all night to watch some movies.

The only reason why Brock wasn’t with them was that he already had a room with Misty and another Gym leader that they were friends with on a different floor, floor delta, which is also a secret and private floor for any gym leaders on or off work.

Ash curled his tail tighter around his body, not keen on the cold silk sheets at all, his sock covered feet getting encased most by the multi colored fluff. Sleep was also terrible, which increased Ash’s anger and pushed him to the point where he threw off the covered and hit his hands and legs against the bed like a toddler before getting up and slinging on his sweatshirt from earlier again.

Pikachu blinked lazily you from his spot under the rest of the pillows and half of the comforter. Only stretching and getting out of his half warmth cave because he doesn’t like it when Ash is cold when he isn’t and the way Ash is stalking about looking for some warmer socks he packed made Pikachu anxious. He hopped onto Ash’s shoulders when his trainer offered an arm put after finding said socks and putting them on over his existing ones on his feet.

Shuffling out of his room, Ash’s back met with Gou’s. Making both of them jump and twirl around. Pointing their fingers at each other like the spider man meme.

“Your room cold too?” Gou asked. Floppy ears twitching as he glanced down a millisecond at Ash’s bristling and thrashing tail.

“Iceberg cold.” Ash hissed as he stalked past the mountain dog anthro to go over into the kitchen and the thermostat.

“It’s already at seventy five degrees Fahrenheit!” Ash nearly yowled in rage.

“No way,” Gou trotted into the kitchen and gently shoving Ash away with his shoulders, ignoring the slight hiss and pinned back ears as he looked at the thermo, “holy Arceus you’re not wrong.”

“No shit!” Aah hissed again. Pulling back away from Gou more and going back to his freezing room to snatch his phone of the charger. A loud yowl sounded in his throat as he noticed that it wasn’t even charging.

“My phones nearly dead!” Gou’s voice barked from his room. He must have went to grab his as well.

“Mines at half battery,” Ash convened with him in the middle of the hallway again, “I’ll call Lance to see if he’s up and having the same problem.” No doubt the dragon would be nearly throwing a fit if his heat was shut off and his room freezing cold. Not like it would bother him to much since he has a fire core even if he’s a water dragon, which made absolutely no sense to Ash when he explained it earlier when Ash first came on as his secondary Champion.

Alder would be having a similar problem since he doesn’t retain a lot of heat as well. Cynthia should have no problem since she’s a dragon to and actually is used to the blazing tundras of Sinnoh. Wallace and Steven, even though Steven isn’t a Champion anymore and Wallace just likes dragging his husband to all these events, should be at least okay. Their wings are pretty heat absorbant and should last them a while before they truly got really cold. Four hours into their stay and it’s already been terrible.

Before Ash could even lift the phone to his ears there was a harsh knocking on their hotel room door.

“Sounds like Lance.” Ash grumbled. Ignoring Gou’s bristled shock state at such a harsh sound.

Peeling back his door he was faced by a seething Lance followed by Alder and then even Leon. The Griffin was shuffling his feet and he looked absolutely wrecked, black eye bags and frazzled wings and hair.

“Is your room cold.” Lance snarled.

“Good evening to you too.” Ash hissed back.

“Is. your. room. cold.” Lance turned even a little more violent with his voice.

“Of course it’s cold dipshit!” Ash spat back, “I was about to call you, and ask a bit more politely, if you guys were having the same problem.”

At this Lance tipped his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Taking a deep inhale that looked like it hurt his lungs before exhaling. “I’m sorry.” Lance muttered. Much more calm and respectful. “I didn’t mean to heat up any anger. I was angry and wasn’t right of me.”

Ash relaxed as well. Letting some of the fight in him slink away in favor but that didn’t stop his tail lashing back and forth. “I’m sorry as well.”

”did one of you check the vents in your room?” Alder pipped up tiredly.

Gou made a nose before pulling back from behind Ash and going to the nearest vent. It was opened and Ash tiredly watched as he crouched down and hovered his hand over the metal.

“Nothings blowing in out sucking out.” Gou informed. Padding back over and taking the time to press his chest into Ash’s side. Going and grabby the calico’s tail and wrapping it around his would fluffy one. He stuffed his face into Pikachu’s fur and the mouse Pokémon papped at the top of his head like an irritated kitten.

Ash groaned and leaned into Gou more, pressing Pikachu between his neck and Goums face more much to the timing ones discontent but he didn’t mutter anything more then a squeak. At least he was warmer then the cold room. He ignored the way Lance and Leon tracked the movement and the way his chest heaved up and down in a very tired sigh.

“How’s Diantha?” Ash asked. Not doubting she wasn’t fairing good at all being a black jaguar anthro.

“Hissing and spitting at anyone who gets to close,” Alder laughed nervously while moving to show the inside of his arm where his sweater sleeve was in tatters with some little blood drops welling up, Good think Alder has very thick skin, “she’s stolen Cynthia and buried herself under their combined blankets and pillows.”

“Sounds like her.” Ash agreed before doing a full body shiver. Tail unwinding from Gou’s tail and thrashing enough that it’s hitting the doorway loud enough to make an auditable thumps.

“Stop that!” Lance growled and moved his hand quick enough to catch Ash’s tail before it thumped against the wall. “I know you’re cold,” he ignored Ash’s hiss and the clawed hand coming down to press his fingernails into Lance’s scaled hands, “but we don’t need you hurting yourself in anger.”

“Much easier said then done.” Ash growled low in his throat. Tightening his hold onto Lance’s hand.

Gou and Pikachu looked wearily from Champion to Champion. Gou for once experiencing one of their ‘legendary’ spats that Ash rarely talks about. Pikachu was looking more towards Alder, hoping that the Rhino anthro would stop this but by the man’s distant look he was going to be no help.

Before anyone could say something else Leon piped up, “I feel like this is all my fault.”

That made everyone pause and turn to stare at him. A mix of confusing and annoyance filtering through their face’s.

“What in the fucking world are you talking about?” Lance asked. Turning more, as much as he can with his arm across his chest in Ash’s hold, to look at the Galar Champion. “You had nothing to do with what’s going on.”

Leon fidgeted even more. Obviously tired and overthinking things, but he carried on. “If I didnt let Rose talk everyone into coming here for the starting ceremony of the worldwide Championship then none of us would be here at this point. No one would be cold, Ash wouldn’t have brought Gou because you wouldn’t have been able to do his long overdo introduction, Alder wouldn’t have gotten his arm scratched by Diantha, and everyone would be relatively okay.”

It took a few seconds for everyone to let the griffins words sink in. But after that they exploded.

“That is so not your fault,” Alder started, “no one would have predicted this happening at all.”

“Alders right!” Lance added, “it’s not your job to leash Rose like that and even then you’re no way responsible for what’s going on.”

Ash sighed heavily. Shoulder slumping as he picked Pikachu off of his shoulder and kinda shoved him into Gou’s arm. Letting go of Lance’s hand as he walked past the two taller Champions and traitor over to Leon. Reaching out with both hands so he could cup the fallen griffins cheeks and make Leon look into his brown eyes.

“Hey,” Ash cooed, “don’t beat yourself up over this. The ceremony would have taken place at another Region and we would all be staying at another hotel, I would have to make my debut anyways an Gou would still be with me since he’s my research partner, the same things that’s happening now?” Aah waved his hands along the darken cold hallway and to the few open door’s that lead into the other hotel room’s, “could have happened the same way like it is now at a different hotel. None of us could have perdicted this would happen.”

“Sorry,” Leon croaked out, wiping away a few tears that were forming in his eyes, “just tired and over thinking everything.”

“I know,” Ash soothed a hand through Leon’s more then usual wild hair, making sure his claws doesn’t catch on a heavy knot or scratch Leon’s scalp, “I am too. We’re all tired but we’ll get through this.”

In truth Ash was already at his fucking limit. It’s to cold and he can feel himself loosing feeling in his tail and ears. His hands shook as he brought them back from brushing Leon’s hair and cradle long his face to clutch them close to his chest. Taking a short breath and exhaling. Suddenly he was made a yelping noise as Leon dragged him into a hug. A hug that somehow made Ash feel safer and was warm. Ash’s face lit up in a blush as he looked up to Leon in a bit of shock.

“Sorry... again.” Leon mumbled into Ash’s own bed head. Hot breath feeling nice against his cold ear even if it did flick itself at the feeling. “You’re probably the coldest one out of us all right now.”

“Diantha is suffering!” Ash protested, “she has shorter fur then I do!”

“But she has Cynthia.” Lance added. Moving to gently slide the tip of Ash’s cat ears between two buckles. The oldest man hissed slightly at the feeling. “Your fucking freezing! Are you sure you’re all right Ash?”

That got Pikachu’s attention and the mouse wiggled out of Gou’s grip and hopped from Alder’s shoulder onto Leon’s. Chirping in worry at Ash.

“I’m good buddy.” Ash cooed. “I’m good.”

Leon draged his large wings over Ash, but not before motioning for Gou also to join. Now that he had the two in his arms Leon seemed to settle down.

“Wallace is trying to figure out what’s wrong, yeah?” Gou hesitantly asked. More concurred in keeping Ash, who started to shake more violently even with Leon’s body heat, warm.

“Along with Steven.” Alder sighed. “But The elevator is broken so they have to walk down thirteen flights of stairs down and up.”

“Why didn’t they ask for Diantha’s Gardevoir?” Ash piped up, looking very unamused, “they could have teleported down there and up in the matter of seconds!”

Lance bit his lips as he made a pointed stare at the floor then swinging it over to Alder who made an even more expressive face.

“Who wants to brave the dungeon?” Lance asked after a few minutes. Looking at everyone who immediately hesitated but one.

———

“Dinatha!” Ash yelled as he barged into Diantha’s suite. The black panther immediately hissed, fur standing on end as she was curled up with Cynthia who had her wings wrapped around the big cat anthro. “We need your Gardevoir!”

“I fucking told Wallace!” Cynthia shouted you the roof immediately after. “That dolt said that it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Diantha kept hissing but Ash’s sudden yowl of anger drowned her out and also surprised her. Blinking in shock her mouth closed with a click!

“Bitch you are not the only one that’s cold!” Ash hissed as he stalked forward to looks for her belt of Poké balls that must have been stashed in the mountain of pillows. “You have a dragon that’s eager to cuddle while I’m stuck with the most touch hating people in the group, get the fuck over yourself and help you useless soft bellied Yamper.”

“Harsh.” Gou muttered behind Ash.

“It’s the fucking truth.” Aah hissed back. Grabbing the Poké ball and calling out Gardevoir.

The physic Pokémon grumbled about being out of her ball. Rubbing her arms over her own shoulders while looking around before turning to face Ash again.

“Hi sweetheart,” Ash chose to be nice and kept his temper down, Dinatha’s Gardevoir wasn’t one to really take shit, “we need you to teleport to Wallace and Steven and then teleport them to the main reception hall if their not already there by now and then teleport them back.”

Gardevoir grumbled loudly at Ash’s request. Scrunching her face to show her displeasure. Making motions with her hands like she was using Kalosian sign language.

“Baby I’m so sorry,” Ash’s shoulders slumped and a weak apologetic smile crossed his lips, “but I can’t make out what you’re saying because we’re both shaking to much.”

The Pokémon grunted before immediately disappearing out of the room and down the hallway.

“Thank you!” Ash cupped his hands around his mouth to yell out to the Pokémon. Who was probably already down in the flight of stairs to check if said husbands were there.

He whipped back around and stepped towards Leon, who still held Gou close, and buried his face into Leon’s own sweater. Opting to keep quite now and save his energy. Though his cheeks were some how permanently stained red at this point.

Gou reaches out and grasped the sweater sleeve of Ash’s elbow, tugging insistently until Ash is curled in his arms and then slept is hugging both of them together. Which was more warm then Leon just holding them by their waists with his wings closed as tight as he could get them around the two.

Lance had moved over to Alder, raising his wings questioning to the Unovian Champion and already rapping his long red scaled tail around the back of Alders ankles. The taller man ducked his head into Lance’s fuffy hair between his two curled horns. Thankful that the Kantonian Champion was willing to share his warmth with the rhino anthro. 

It took five minutes for anyone to move next. Leon had moved his arm around Gou, causing Ash to tug Gou closer and lean into Leon’s arm wrapped around his waist, to dig into his pocket to pull out his phone. Thumbing through until he got to his contacts and clicked on one.

It rang three times until the other end came up. Leon put it on speaker phone and sent an apologetic glance towards the two under him that were right next to the speaker end.

“Leon,” a heavy growl sounded through the room, “you better have a good fucking excuse to be calling me at ten at night when you know I’m asleep at this time.”

“Sorry, Rai,” Leon flinched at the angry tone, “we just have a big problem at the hotel we’re staying at, something wrong with the electricity and heat, and we have some anthro’s who can’t really contain heat that well... and I was wondering if-“

“-that I would get up out of my comfy bed and come and help warm some people up?” Raihan injected over Leon’s voice.

“... yes?” Leon phrased it more of a question.

Another growl echoed out of the speaker, both Gou and Ash couldn’t help but flinch at how loud it was. Leon tightened his hold on the two with another apologetic smile that was more a grimace.

“Rai, please?” Leon begged, “two champions are literally about to go feral while another is gonna like... die of being to cold.”

“Damn right!” Ash and Dainatha belted out at the same time. Same tone and everything.

“Arceus. dammit Lee,” Raihan sneered, “You’re killing me here. You’re killing your friend and rival my dude.”

“Please?” Leon doesn’t care if he’s straight begging right now, he really doesn’t want to see Diantha and Ash actually go feral and kill like ninety percent of all league officials. 

Another growl, “I’m on my way.”

Leon made a happy griffin noise, wings fluttering a little around the two boys in his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Raihan gave a heavy sigh, presumably getting up out of bed, “I’ll be there in like twenty minutes.”

“Thank you Rai!” Leon sighed happily before ending the call. Putting his phone back in his pocket before wrapping his arms around Gou’s back again, giving the boys a squeeze and tucking his head down into Ash’s head only to jerk back a little and blink in shock. “Damn your ears are cold.”

“No shit.” Ash weakly hissed. “We already established that.” He buried his face to try and not to let out a muffled choke as Leon started to massage his ears. Trying to get them as warm as he could.

———

“We’re back!” Wallace yelled out from the hallway, “and we brought a friend!”

Gardevoir teleported into the room and clicked her own Poké ball that Ash had left on the kitchen counter. The physic Pokémon not wanting to be out in the cold any longer and returned to her, presumably, heated Poké ball.

A much taller dude came sliding down the hall and nearly crashed into the doorway, ducking his head and coming into the room. He towered over everyone and his larger dragon wings were tucked close to his back unlike his large tail that dragged behind him.

“Leon.” He grunted.

“Raihan!” Leon beamed before letting go of the two boys and pushing them over to the dragon anthro, “Ash, Gou? This is Raihan! He’ll warm you guys up in no time. I usually use him as a heater as well when it gets super cold here in Galar.”

“Which is like ninety percent of the time.” Raihan pokes his slightly split tongue out at the Galar Champion who did the same before turning back and going over to Lance and Alder. The rhino more the happily greeting the griffin.

Ash squeaked when one of Raihans arms reached out and wrapped around his waist. He looked back over to the dragon who gave him a once over.

“Well aren’t you a cutie.” He purred. Dragging Ash closer until he was tucked against his chest.

Gou was given the same treatment. both of their face’s were burning red, but it wasn’t because of the nice warmth that was radiating from Raihan’s body. Next thing they knew Raihan was sitting down, dragging them as well until they were both settled on both his legs.

“Better?” Raihan asked.

“So much better,” Gou answered, eyeing Ash who just tilted his face more into Raihans warm sweater instead since his face was a blushing mess more so then Gou’s, “thank you Raihan.”

Raihan only hummed. Eyeing Ash’s tail that was still trashing and hitting his arm. “You good there kitten?”

“Uh-hu!” Ash squeaked out. Turning quickly to nab his tail and tuck it close to his chest to keep it from moving anymore. Ash felt so embarrassed as he hid his face more in Raihans, extremely toned, chest.

“Ash is just super tired and cranky,” Gou grumbled, from what Ash could see he was nearly asleep which hes fucking lucky, “he kept getting piles of rain or water dropped on to him, so Ash’s been cold since the moment we left for the airport.”

Gou wasn’t wrong. Ash had somehow continually been getting splashed with water. Be it from trees or accidentally bumping into someone with an open water bottle, Ash was drenched or at least damp most of the day. It’s why he was so cranky when they got to the hotel, Ash was actually looking forward to going out on a sight seeing trip after dropping their luggage off at the hotel, but all he could think about was changing into some nice warm pajamas and sleeping until Lance inevitably knocked on his door to check up on him and Gou.

“Poor kitten,” Raihan rumbled low in his throat, leaning more into Ash and the smaller could feel the dragons muscles shifting under his clothes, “todays just not your day is it?”

“You and Leon are making it better.” Ash said without really thinking. Making the mistake to look up into Raihans extremely pigmented blue eyes, which widened and the pupils dilated.

“Oh really,” The dragon purred out. Leaning down more into Ash’s face. “how so?”

“Leon tried keeping us,” he nodded a little to Gou who was no completely asleep, tail tucked into his lap and looked peaceful, “warm and he called you here to help. By the way thank you for coming, Diantha maybe a pain in the ass while cold but I can guarantee I’m much worse.”

“I’d like to see that.” Raihan sayed. Tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at Ash who blinked wide eyed up at him. 

“See what?” Ash cursed silently as his voice cracked a little.

“You all wild up,” Raihan gave him a little heated look, “bet you look hot while mad.”

Ash couldn’t help but snort a little. “I look like a fluffy ball of murder while mad, which is no way hot to see.”

“To each their own.” Raihan shrugged his shoulders and flinched the tiniest amount Ash has seen a person do when Gou made a sleepy whining noise before settling back down.

“So it’s gonna be like this for most of the night?” Diantha’s irritated growl echoed through the open room. Eyeing everyone that was standing around her and Cynthia in their pillow mountain.

“Most likely.” Wallace huffed. Wings starting to shake at the tiniest bit. “It’s only really our level and half of the Delta level, so most of the current gym leaders staying here tonight are good with bunking up with one another even more.”

“So we’re just stuck with the cold?” Ash asked. Reaching up for one of his numb ears and rubbing his pads into them, trying to stop them from aching so much.

“Again,” Wallace sighed, giving Ash an apologetic and worrying look, “most likely.”

Ash made a loud whining noise and curled up tighter. Shoving his face into Raihan’s hot skin of his neck that was open and uncovered from his sweater. The dragon hissed in shock and flinched away a little from Ash’s cold face.

“Sorry.” Ash muttered before pulling his face back down and rubbing it into Raihan’s, much less, warm sweater.

“S’okay,” Raihan was quick to answer, Tucking Ash and Gou more into his chest and even bent his head down to rub his face into Ash hair and ears, “don’t mind it at all, Kitten.”

Ash only hummed. Tilting into Raihan’s down right nuzzling fest and rubbing his own cheeks back against Raihan. Tonight’s gonna fucking suck but at least it’s not gonna be to bad.

Though Ash does wish he had taken a hot shower before throwing pajama’s on and sliding into that cold torture of a bed.

[arazialotis]

Give it Time - Part 2

Pairing: Eventual DeanxReader, SamxReader

Word Count: Around 2900

Summary: Months have gone by since the boys lost their beloved Y/N to Zachariah. She was transported to another world. That’s all they had to go on. But now that Y/N has been returned, she struggles to recall any memories of her past with the Winchesters, and the ones she does remember seem to conflict with reality.

Part 1

Warnings: Language

For me, this is just a hobby, coping skill, and a way to get silly fantasies out of my head. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!,

----

The pillow that engulfed you may as well have been a magnet, pulling you in deeper and protesting against the morning. Though you hadn’t had a drop, your head spun with a grogginess only a hangover could produce. Afraid and unsure of what reality you’d wake to, of which one you wanted to wake to, sleep seemed the better alternative. Pending consciousness became increasingly hard to deny. Sheets that were not your own rubbed against your skin and without seeing your surroundings you knew you were still in this foreign world. 

When protesting the day was no longer relevant, you forced yourself to meet it. Sitting up and taking in the cold room around you, the shock of yesterday lingered. In a single moment, the world had tipped upside down and your dreams had become reality. Well, not all the dreams, some twisted version. Give it time, immerse yourself in the world, find your place, and remember. 

To do so, you’d actually have to leave your room. The bunker was still and quiet. Your feet padded on the chilled floor to the kitchen. You riffled through the fridge and cupboards but were left unsatisfied at the selection. There was a fresh pot of coffee on, but the thought churned your stomach. Nerves won over hunger. 

Something shuffling in the library caught your attention. You went to investigate. A smile crept over your lips upon seeing Sam with his nose stuck in a book. It was the way things should be. You sat down opposite of him, the sound of the chair scuffing the ground pulling him from the trance. 

“Oh.” He coughed and stood up to formally address your presence. “How did you sleep?” Once his shock dissipated, he realized his stance did not match yours and sat back down. 

“Fine.” You nodded, unsure of what else to say. 

“I made coffee.” He eagerly offered. 

But you shook your head and politely declined. “I’m okay.” He cleared his throat again, wanting to know if anything came back but afraid to ask. 

The awkward silence got to you, as did his gaze. “I.. um.. Maybe, if you don’t mind, you could uh, take me for a tour.” 

“Yeah!” He jumped up with a little too much enthusiasm, and toned it down. “I mean. Yeah. I could do that.” “Cool.” You followed his lead. 

In all honesty, the tour droned but you were thankful to have his lingering eyes off you. With sincerity, you did ask questions to learn more about this place. But a wintery, hollow feeling remained. Memories didn’t spark nor did feelings of belonging or attachment. 

“Well. That’s about it…” Sam wrapped up before a small chuckle. “Unless you want to see the garage.” 

Finally, a tug. “I’d love to.” He furrowed his brow at your unexpected response. “Really? Oh, okay.” He led you through steel double doors to a room shining with glossy exteriors. 

“There she is.” You beamed, running ahead of Sam to the Impala. 

Your hand caressed the pristinely waxed hood of the car as you drew closer peering inside the window. Cassettes and magazines were kept neatly in a box on the passenger's side. A necklace dangled from the rearview mirror and a package of unfinished licorice sat in the middle of the bench. 

“Can I?” You asked Sam for permission. 

“Of course.” He held out his hand encouraging you. 

You went for the handle of the back seat, the door creaked open and you slid in. Sam waited outside but shut the door behind you. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the back and breathed in. A musky scent warmed you finding in it the hint of leather, licorice and gunpowder. With a peaceful sigh, you laid down across the bench, imaging the vibrations rumbling through you. This was it. This felt like home. 

Sam hid his disappointment, seeing you had more of a reaction to a car than him. He chuckled. “Should I leave you two alone?” 

“Oh my gosh.” You moaned as if coming down from a high. “Would Dean totally kill me if I snuck out for a joy ride?”

“I…” Sam contemplated. “I think he would be a lot more comfortable in the driver’s seat.” He noticed the disappointment on your face as you shimmied out of the back. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you on the road soon enough.” 

You followed Sam out of the garage, glancing back at her as you went, stopping before you fully exited. “Sam? Was I a hunter?” You had naturally assumed but had nothing to confirm. 

He laughed as if it were obvious. “The most kick-ass one ever.” You blushed from his admiration. “Shut up.” You scuffed your shoe against the ground. 

“I’m serious. Rather cross a hungry pack of vamps than you any day.” He turned back to the bunker and you followed inside. “Though we won’t test it ‘til you get your feet back.” You weren’t sure if you believed it now, hearing the words come from him. But how else would you have gotten tangled up in the head-spinning lives of the Winchesters? Exploring a bit for yourself now, you winded up at the shooting range. The amount of arms on the wall shocked you. It was enough for a militia, let alone three hunters. A small ivory handgun sent a shiver down your spine.  

Your hands felt clumsy handling it, as if they weren’t met to hold such a deadly thing. Trying to muster the strength in Sam’s words, you took aim for one of the target’s at the opposite end. You braced yourself as best you could for the shot and recoil, finger resting on the trigger. Pulling back, the gun simply clicked. With a huff, you set it down on the ledge. The safety was on or it wasn’t loaded but you had no idea how to tell. 

***

The day dragged. Back home, or you know, the reality where you were trapped, the day would be filled with work, errands, chores… life. And here, well, maybe you were just bored. But it was because nothing was happening. They were dancing around you, treating you like you were made of glass, waiting for something to snap. But it wasn’t. Maybe coming back was going to be more gradual than anyone thought. Unless, you could find Zachariah and force him to reverse the whole thing. Had they considered it? 

The thoughts racing around your mind was an endless tangled web keeping you up at night. If you were going to go after an angel, maybe you should work yourself up to it first. The brightness of the screen blinded you for a moment against the dark of the room. Your thumb hovered over the screen, blanking on where to start. Typing in “murders” seemed futile but actually prompted some interesting responses. News articles popped up and you scanned a few looking for any details that stood out. 

Nothing of bite marks, animal attacks, missing hearts. You yawned and rubbed your eyes before shutting the laptop, setting it aside, and shimmied your way under the covers. Wiggling to get comfortable, you found a spot and closed your eyes, focusing on breathing. Until a twinge in your back acted out, you rolled to the side. Another. Rolling again and huffing in defeat. Your eyes found the red numbers of the alarm clock; 1:10 AM. You closed your eyes again, swirling with thoughts. 

“Y/N, no!” Dean yelled through the fog of your mind. 

But you wouldn’t listen. Angel blade in hand you charged at the unknown enemy. 

A bright flash of light. 

Opening your eyes again, the clock read 1:30. 

“This is stupid.” You muttered to yourself. 

You shuffled out of bed, rummaging around until you found a light jacket and a pair of flip flops. Although it was quiet, you slowly peeked out into the hall looking both ways, feeling as if you were a toddler asking to get into trouble. Satisfied you were alone, you turned the flash light on your phone and headed out the hall.

Cautiously, you retraced your steps through the hallway, to the kitchen, through the library until you reached the stairs in the war room. The stairs slightly creaked under your weight as you ascended. There was no intention to run, simply to get out from underground, to breathe some fresh air and let your thoughts escape rather than be trapped in. 

The door was heavy as you pushed against it freeing yourself to the outside. The night air was warm yet you pulled the jacket against you, looking up at the stars. You wandered a little, up a nearby hill to a clearing to get a better view. 

The crisp air filled your lungs and a wave of peace rushed over you. You turned your flashlight off and sat down in the damp grass. Attempting to forget your troubles, you studied the night sky; looking for known constellations, curious if they were the same stars you knew back home, wondering if that brighter speckle was actually a planet, catching a glimpse of a shooting star and making a silent wish.

As time passed, you forgot about the past, forgot about the bunker, and just felt as you were in this moment. A twig nearby snapped. Instinctively, you rolled to the ground, reaching to your back for a gun that wasn’t there. “Shit.” You hissed. “Hey, hey.” Dean’s calming voice brought you back. “It’s just me, Y/N. Just Dean.” You sighed in relief, sitting back up. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He came down and sat next to you. “No, I didn’t mean to scare you.” “It’s okay.” You said, looking at him now as he gazed up. He glanced your way and you averted your eyes, thankful the dark was concealing the blush in your cheeks. “Couldn’t sleep?” “Nah.” You stretched your arms over your head, then questioned his presence. “How’d you know to find me out here?” 

Dean yawned, you now noticed his mussed hair. “You tripped an alarm. Took me a second to realize it was you, but uh, I remembered you used to come out here at night. Sometimes.” “Oh, god. Sorry…” He cut you off with a chuckle. “Stop apologizing Y/N. It’s okay.” “Maybe you could show me, so I avoid them next time.” “Yeah.” He yawned again and laid down on his back. You joined him, the both of you staring up and the night sky. “So what’s keeping you up?” 

The dream replayed through your head. Dean’s voice echoed. “Y/N, no!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing in particular I guess.” You cleared your throat. “It’s like being at a hotel for the first night I guess, just need to settle in and get used to a new environment.” 

Dean hummed as if he understood. 

His silence caused you to ramble further. “And, well, I don’t know…” You bit your lip wondering if you should continue. “I guess I thought things would be different. Like, I imagined what it would be like to be on an adventure with Sam and Dean… not like I actually thought it would happen… but, now that I am here.” You glanced sideways at him, studying the outline of his face and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I just imagined it differently.” 

Dean pondered for a few minutes. “In what ways?” 

You chuckled. As if you were going to reveal how you felt about him. “Well for one, having actual memories.” You could feel Dean’s grin through the dark, it was contagious. “I don’t know, like pie at every meal.” Dean’s smile gave way to a snicker. “I mean, I wish things were that way too.”

You licked your lips before turning to your stomach so you could better watch him. His eyes were closed yet he was relaxed and content. The constellations no longer grabbed your attention the way the starlight barely showed the freckles on his face, counting them instead. 

“I thought,” You continued. “That the bunker would be warm and cheery instead of foreign and cold. I thought I would naturally just fall into place and belong.” You sighed, wishing for his arms to wrap around you. “And I thought there’d be this epic soundtrack to everything we did.” You smirked trying to lighten the mood again. 

“Just wait until we get back on the road, there will be.” Dean assured. 

“Motoring.” You softly yet uncontrollably sang out, surprising yourself. 

Dean’s voice was soft as he went an octave or a few higher than normal. “What’s your price for flight.” 

You giggled and joined him. “In finding mister right, you’ll be alright tonight.” Dean and you sat back up. “See, you just gotta make your own.” The two of you held your gaze a few moments too long. Dean broke away first. “As for falling asleep, I might have a trick.” He led you back down into the bunker and you reluctantly followed knowing he wasn’t suggesting what you hoped for. Through the maze, the two of you found your way to a large room with a foosball table and tv. You plopped down on a big leather couch, perhaps a little too close together. 

Dean turned on the tv and scrolled through Netflix landing on Star Trek Next Gen. 

“Picard!” You exclaimed. 

“Nerd.” Dean snickered back at you. 

“Shut up.” You teasingly nudged him with your elbow. 

“You’ll be out in no time.”

You playfully gasped. “What the hell are you talking about? I love Star Trek.” 

He silently chuckled. “So you say, but trust me, there’s no way you are conscious by the second episode.” 

“Wanna bet?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What’s the wager?” Dean unconsciously licked his lips. 

“Pie. Obviously.” He chuckled again. “You're so on.” 

Dean easily won the bet. Not even 10 minutes in, you began nodding off, your head slowly starting to tilt in his direction. As soon as you became quiet, the heaviness hit Dean too, the early hours of the morning hitting hard. He yawned and stretched his arms, one settling around your shoulder drawing you in a little closer. The two of you drifted off side by side without even realizing. 

He was the first to wake finding you tangled on the couch together. Your face buried into his chest and his hand protectively over your head. He slid up careful not to wake you. The tv screen glowed as Netflix asked if you wanted to continue watching. Dean rubbed his eyes and looked for the remote turning it off. He rubbed his hand through his hair as he stood, turning around to admire how peaceful you looked asleep. He gently covered you with a blanket before leaving to scout out some coffee and breakfast. 

The bunker was quiet and stale until Dean made his way closer to the library, the sound of furious typing growing louder with each step. Dean made his way there, finding Sam on the computer with an intensity he hadn’t seen since you first disappeared. 

Dean treaded cautiously. “Mornin’.”

Sam refused to look up. “Looks like you had quite the night.” He snipped. 

“Shit.” Dean muttered to himself. “Dude, it was nothing.” Sam raised his eyebrows unconvinced and stopped typing. “To you maybe.” Dean’s face grew confused. “She’s obviously more comfortable around you.” 

“Stop.” Dean challenged. “She just needed help falling asleep so I turned on Star Trek like the old days. What happened after that was purely accidental and unintentional.” Sam scoffed unconvinced. “It’s been two days Sam. You can’t expect things to fall into place immediately.” 

Sam shut his laptop and held his head in his hands. “I’ve waited so long for this. And now, she feels farther away than ever.” “I know.” Dean agreed for sympathy’s sake. “But she’s starting to remember. I know it doesn’t feel like it but she is. Slowly.” Sam sighed and looked away. Dean fished in his pocket, pulling out the ivory gun. “I found this out in the range yesterday and unless it was you playing with it…” He handed it forward. 

Sam took it from him, a spark of hope fluttering inside. Out of all the guns, you had picked out the one he had given you. 

“She was up at her old spot last night, would’ve shot me if she had it on her.” Dean chuckled. “And uh, she had a glaze over her eyes, the one only a hunter gets. I think she’s remembering more than she's letting on.” 

Sam recalled how you had reacted to the Impala. It was the most comfortable he had seen you so far. “What if we got out on the road, maybe took an easy case.”

Dean grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Seems kinda fast, too dangerous.” “Not with us both there, every step of the way, keeping her from any true danger.” Sam argued. “Maybe that's what she needs, to help jumpstart the progress.” 

“Let’s leave it up to her.” Dean suggested. 

“Leave me up to what?” You walked in, yawning and stretching, hair an absolute mess. 

Sam stood up to greet you, eyes wide like a frightened puppy afraid you may have overheard his frustration. “About going on a hunt?” He stammered. 

Your eyes lit up, the grogginess of the morning instantly fading away. “Yes! I’ll go pack my things!” You ran out of the room.

The boys shared a smile with each other surprised by your enthusiasm. 

“I guess we're going.” Dean stated. “You gotta case?”

“I’ll find one.” Sam dived back into his laptop, his heart racing with hope.

-----

Tags: 

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78@blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21@carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider@adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67@monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants@onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18@jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love

[anotherkpopvictim]

Into a New World (Through the Gate) - BTS OT7 Fantasy Story Chapter 4

(Pic source ((it’s kinda just all over google images tho)))

A/N: This chapter is out a bit later than I’d hoped but I got caught up in stuff. Ya know how it is.

Enjoy!!

Relationship: BTS X BTS

Rating: T

Words: 3428

Hurt/comfort, fluff, fantasy

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 4: Feeling and Healing

Worldbuilding Note on Witches: Witches may just be the most complex supernatural creatures in all the worlds. What makes them special is that they were not around when the universe was created, while all other creatures were. Even vampires, only created by turning humans, had a group of Originals that were first created by the universe. On the other hand, witches were humans who taught themselves the art of magic used predominantly by fairies, demons, and jinns. It wasn’t an easy task to learn magic by any means, and the truth was that most who tried ended up failing to do more than a simple spell. The few that could grasp the art of magic had the ability to become one of the most powerful creatures of all the worlds and live thousands of years.

----------------------

Namjoon fled the guest bedroom, Seokjin following only a few steps behind, leaving the other five in the sudden silence. The alpha were-shifter had ripped his arms out of the two vampires' grips, and Jungkook was looking after him with guilt in his eyes and a trembling lower lip.

Yoongi sighed and ruffled the younger vampire’s wavy locks. “Don’t worry about your Namjoon-hyung, he’ll come around.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, his gaze only falling to the ground and his eyebrows pinching together.

“I’m not manipulating you,” Hoseok spoke up, his voice rather sad. The four packmates turned to watch him struggle to sit up in the bed. He was a bit shaken up from the shapeshifter’s hostile behavior, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. “I swear I’m not.”

Jimin hurried over to urge the other fairy to lay back down along with Taehyung. “I believe you, Hoseok-ssi. Your aura is too kind to be manipulative. Namjoon-hyung just has some trust issues.”

“I don’t know how to prove it to you,” the orange fairy continued. 

Hoseok continued to mumble but no one could make out exactly what he was saying anymore as his eyelids drooped and his body relaxed back against the pillows once more.

Taehyung ran a hand through the older man’s bright orange locks. “Sleep now, Hoseok-ssi. You need rest.”

The fairy was unconscious before he even finished the sentence.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi began softly, taking charge of the situation. “Since Seokjin-hyung is busy at the moment, why don’t you and Jungkook make us some easy dinner, yeah? I’ll help Taehyung tend to Hoseok.”

The pink fairy wanted to argue, wanted to stay, but he knew that he couldn’t do anything for Hoseok, at least not at the moment. So, Jimin instead nodded his head and stood up from the edge of the mattress, making his way over to the two vampires still hovering in the middle of the room. Jimin reached out and grasped one of Jungkook’s hands with his small one, guiding the quiet vampire out the door with him.

True to his word, Yoongi followed Taehyung to his workroom on the first floor, greeting the rather large wolf that laid casually on a large, fluffy dog bed in one of the corners.

Eunji was Taehyung’s familiar. Not all witches had familiars as it was difficult to come across an animal that shared a similar magic aura. Eunji was an absolutely gorgeous creature. She was a grey wolf, her coat the obvious color of grey, but tinted with a hint of warm brown. Her eyes were a shimmering gold color that was always piercing. Despite being around the familiar for years now, Yoongi still felt a shiver go down his spine every time their eyes locked. (Eunji) Nevertheless, Eunji was tamed by her connection with the witch, and now really saw the rest of the pack as her family.

The creature watched lazily as the vampire assisted Taehyung in concocting some sort of energy elixir. While the tea they had given Hoseok earlier acted like a caffeine boost, this potion would be much more powerful and suited to the fairy’s drastic state.

Yoongi basically just listened to the witch rattle off different ingredients for him to grab off of the shelf. Besides that, the two of them were pretty silent as Taehyung brewed the potion in a small cauldron on the stove. It bubbled a bright blue and green.

Yoongi would never, despite seeing it time and time again, understand how the potions came to be. To him, it just looked like different ingredients going into a pot, but somehow created a drink that had magical properties. Taehyung had laughed at him the one time he mentioned it, telling the older that the process of brewing involved adding the witch’s own power. Unlike other forms of magic that were practiced by multiple species, potions were unique to witches only.

After a few minutes of silence and stirring, Taehyung moved the cauldron off of the burner, turned it off, and ladled some of the contents into a mug.

“Take this to Hoseok-ssi and try to get him to drink at least half of it,” Taehyung ordered, handing over the mug full of the blue-green potion. “With how bad things were, this won’t keep him going for long so I’m going to contact a few friends right away, try to find someone who might be able to help.”

Yoongi simply nodded and moved to head out the door. He only stopped when he heard a quiet “hyung?” behind him. The younger man was looking at him as though trying to decipher his thoughts.

“Namjoon’s not the only one with trust issues,” Taehyung pointed out. “Do you think he’s manipulating us, too?”

The vampire turned fully back to the other. “No, I don’t,” he replied honestly. “For some reason...there’s something about him that makes me believe him.”

Nodding and humming in agreement, Taehyung moved over from the stove to the computer desk on the other side of the room. “I think so, too.”

They left it simply at that, Taehyung starting up the laptop and Yoongi heading back to the guest room.

Yoongi managed to urge the orange fairy to half-consciousness, enough to get him to drink most of the elixir that had cooled down enough by now. He couldn’t help but fluff the pillow and tuck the newcomer into his bed once he was finished.

The vampire sighed at his own actions before he took his leave once more, heading down to the kitchen to check up on the two cooking dinner.

Jimin was humming softly under his breath as he tended to the meat sizzling in a frying pan. Jungkook was preparing several kinds of vegetables and rice at the island in the center of the kitchen, pouting as he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t even look up to greet the older vampire when he usually approached him like an excited puppy.

“He’s fine,” Jimin told him as he glanced over, “I think he’s just really processing what he did wrong today.”

“Well, it definitely wasn’t the best idea to bring a stranger home,” Yoongi replied. “He’s still so young, though. I don’t want him to be so hard on himself.”

“Gods, you’re such a softie under that stone-cold exterior of yours,” the pink fairy teased.

Yoongi hummed and strutted over to stand behind Jimin, his arms wrapping around the younger one. “Only for my pack mates.” He sealed the words with a press of his lips to Jimin’s nape.

Footsteps came down from upstairs and the two at the stove looked up to see Namjoon and Seokjin walking into the kitchen, hand in hand. Namjoon had been visibly calmed down from earlier, no doubt in part to Seokjin’s “omega magic” as he called it. Now, the alpha looked more tired and deep in thought.

Namjoon was guided to sit down on one of the tall island stools by Seokjin, next to Jungkook, who had finished preparing his part of the dinner and moved over there. Next to each other, their expressions were identical. Both were so caught up in their heads that they barely recognized the world around them.

Seokjin picked up the bowl of vegetables that Jungkook had chopped up and brought it over to the stove where the other two still stood. “Is it about time to add these?” he asked Jimin.

The fairy nodded and took the bowl from him with a thankful smile. As the vegetables and meat finished up cooking, the vampire draped over his back didn’t bother to move.

“How are you feeling about all of this, Seokjin-hyung?” Jimin questioned.

The omega huffed out a laugh. “I’m fine. How about you, my lovely, ever-caring fairy?”

“I’m good.”

----------------------------

Taehyung huffed out a frustrated breath.

Witches weren’t common amongst any world, so trying to track down someone who even knew one was difficult. Of course, there were the rather famous witches whose name was widespread for one shocking action or another, but there were also those who kept to themselves and did things silently. Those were the ones Taehyung was on the lookout for.

Online forums discussing encounters with different, rather unknown witches gave Taehyung half a dozen leads that trailed to dead ends after hours of searching. The first few acquaintances he contacted were unfortunately not of any help either. He was frustrated with the lack of progress, but his sheer determination to help Hoseok overshadowed any other emotion.

“I’m not sure where to go from here,” he conveyed to his friend, Baekhyun, over the phone. He knew that the older man was quite a busy person with his own pack, so he hadn’t wanted to call him unless he really needed to. Now at his wit's end, Taehyung hoped that his old friend might be able to give him a few names.

The two witches had met when Taehyung was still in his earlier years of learning magic. Baekhyun had taken him under his wing in a way different to any mentor Taehyung had had before. Instead of the usual firm, teacher-like attitude, the older male had approached him as a friend and became somewhat of a family to the younger for many years. By his side, Taehyung had learned more about magic and about who he himself was as a witch and a person. Baekhyun was undoubtedly the most influential figure in Taehyung’s sixty-seven years of existence.

“That’s a tough one,” Baekhyun replied. “Curses like that are nearly impossible to reverse.”

“I know, but I can’t just leave him to die without doing everything I can to help him.”

The older witch chuckled, “We lived together for fifteen years, trust me when I say I know that you would go to the ends of the universe to help someone in need.”

“My other mentors told me that it would be my downfall,” Taehyung stated as he ran his hand absentmindedly through the soft fur on Eunji’s back. At some point over the last few hours, she had made her way over and sat next to him, occasionally nudging him in encouragement. “They said that I care too much. That I can’t help everyone.”

“But you already know that,” Baekhyun added knowingly. “You know that perhaps better than anyone.”

The younger witch hummed, “Everyone has gone through hard times, Baekhyun. My past horrors are nothing special.”

With an audible sigh, Baekhyun changed the subject, knowing from experience that trying to argue about that with Taehyung led nowhere. “I think I might have a lead for you, but don’t get your hopes up too high.”

Despite himself, Taehyung straightened up in his seat in anticipation. “I won’t,” he lied, “Just tell me.

“You’ve heard of the Dragon?”

Taehyung scoffed, “Of course I have. Every witch in South Korea knows that name. But he’s just a myth at this point really.”

“Not necessarily,” Baekhyun corrected. “I admit that I thought he was only a myth most of my life until I met someone a few years ago who told me about a very interesting encounter he had with the Dragon.”

“And you believe them?”

“Choi Minho,” the older witch started into the story. “He’s a bit older than me. One night we were having drinks together and he told me about his encounter with the Dragon. He didn’t give me all of the details, but apparently, the Dragon helped him bring his familiar back from the brink of death.”

“That sounds insane,” Taehyung breathed out in awe, his fingers momentarily tightening on Eunji’s fur. The thought of losing his familiar was heartbreaking.

The wolf gave a quiet whine, sensing her witch’s emotions. Eunji leaned up and licked his cheek in gentle comfort.

“That’s what I was thinking at the time as well,” Baekhyun replied. “But I’ve known Minho for quite a while now, worked with him on many things, and he’s never given me a reason to doubt his word before.”

“And you think he could help me get in contact with the Dragon,” Taehyung asked.

“If anyone could reverse a curse like the one on your guest, it would be the greatest witch in all of South Korean history,” Baekhyun stated.

Taehyung hummed, “You’re not wrong there. I’m not entirely convinced but if you could give me this Choi Minho’s number, then that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course I can, and I understand your reservations about this, that’s why I told you not to get your hopes too high.”

“It sounds pretty far-fetched,” Taehyung admitted. “But I’ll take any lead I can get.”

“I’ll send you his number then,” Baekhyun promised. “But Taehyung, you sound tired, so go to sleep now and give him a call later.”

“Okay, yeah, I guess I should do that.” Taehyung let out an involuntary yawn. “Thanks, hyung.”

“No problem, Tae-ah. Let me know how it works out or if you need anything else.”

Once his phone was set down on the desk, Taehyung turned to lock eyes with his familiar. “I never would have thought that the Dragon could still possibly be alive, Eunji-ah,” he murmured to the animal.

The large grey wolf nudged at his thigh with her nose and then his calves, urging him to his feet. Go to sleep, Tae.

The witch smiled at the soft voice that appeared in his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taehyung chuckled as Eunji rolled her eyes and trotted back over to her bed in the corner, settling in for the night.

After checking in on their guest and assuring that his potion was working to elevate his magic energy, Taehyung walked into the bedroom he shared with his boyfriends. The witch, along with Jimin, had years ago created a large bed with their combined magic that defied physics and managed to fit all six of them on it (and a few more than that). Now, he found Jungkook, Jimin and Yoongi cuddled up on that very bed, limbs intertwined and fast asleep. Namjoon and Seokjin were noticeably missing from the bunch, so Taehyung guessed that they needed the night for themselves and slept on the futon in Namjoon’s office.

Taehyung changed out of his day clothes and into his pajamas, eyes drooping with the long hours he’d been awake. After cleaning up for the night in the bathroom, the witch slipped in behind Jungkook on the bed and wrapped his arms around him.

---------------------------

The next time Hoseok rose from his unconsciousness, he could see daylight streaming in through the windows, the sun illuminating the room. His body felt heavy, his limbs tired, and his head was a bit cloudy.

Looking through the haze, a figure perched next to his bed captured his attention quickly.

The fairy expected one of the pack to be watching over him - Jungkook, Yoongi, Jimin, or perhaps that kind witch, Taehyung - but he was shocked to find that it was the two shapeshifters seated in a chair next to his bed.

Hoseok blinked. He wanted to say something but his throat and mouth felt dry and sandpaper-like. Attempting to speak only caused him to emit a rough croak.

The omega - Seokjin, he remembered - sat up straighter upon seeing him awake. “Don’t speak just yet. Joon, grab the water for him.”

The alpha nearly tripped over his own feet to pick up the glass of water from the bedside table. “Here, here! Please drink-” The man then succeeded in tripping over his feet as he turned back around, the glass slipping out of his hand. Even with their shapeshifter reflexes, the alpha wasn’t able to catch it again in time. Surprisingly, it didn’t break into a million pieces as Hoseok expected but rather clattered around for a few moments before rolling to a stop.

No one was really paying attention to the glass, however, because the contents of the cup had been thrown in Seokjin’s face and the other two were preoccupied with the soaked omega.

Seokjin simply shut his eyes and sighed as water dripped from the ends of his bangs and streaked down his cheeks. Based on his reaction, the fairy could tell that this accident wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the house.

Hoseok bit back the laugh that threatened to tear from his tired body. For such a big, bad alpha, Namjoon - he finally remembered his name - sure was clumsy.

“Oh, dear!” Namjoon exclaimed. “Sorry, hyung!”

The omega reopened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend fondly. “It’s alright, Joonie. This is why Taehyung and Jimin charmed all of our glasses to be shatter-proof.” Seokjin picked up the glass from the floor a few feet away and carefully held it out to the alpha. “Go refill this in the bathroom, and for the love of all beings, please, try not to spill it again.”

Though the words were gentle and fond, Namjoon looked thoroughly chastised as he took the glass and walked off to the en suite with his head down.

Seokjin smiled after him with heart eyes before turning back to the fairy. “Sorry about that. I must go get changed. But it is good to see you awake, Hoseok-ssi.”

The omega had barely left the room when the other returned, holding the glass cautiously with both hands and taking careful steps. Quite an amusing and cute sight, Hoseok thought. “Drink what you can, you must be thirsty.”

Hoseok took the glass from the shapeshifter with shaking but eager hands. The cool water quenched his parched throat and he downed the whole thing quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Namjoon asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

“Better,” he replied, voice much less croaky than before. “More alive.”

The alpha nodded, “The energy potion Taehyung made must be working alright, then.”

An awkward silence fell over the two, neither quite sure what to say.

“I need to apologize,” the shapeshifter blurted out rather suddenly. “Not just for dropping the water.”

The fairy opened his mouth to say something, but Namjoon stopped him with a raised hand.

“Please...I am so sorry for my accusations before,” he apologized, barely able to meet the bed-ridden man’s eyes. He appeared truly ashamed of his actions. “They were uncalled for, you haven’t done anything to threaten or hurt us. I...I overreacted and I’m very sorry.”

Hoseok let out a huff of breath in relief that Namjoon was warming up to him and gave the alpha a reassuring smile. “Apology accepted. I understand why you acted the way you did. I’m a stranger that’s invaded your nest.”

“That doesn’t excuse my harsh words,” Namjoon replied.

“Truly, Namjoon-ssi, if I had a pack, I would also be overprotective of them.”

The shapeshifter bit his lip and looked down. “There...there’s something more than that,” he admitted.

The fairy pursed his lips, “What do you mean?”

“You...you startled me,” Namjoon tried to explain, brows furrowing when the words didn’t come out exactly as he’d wanted. “The way that you made me feel...made my alpha feel...”

“Something bad?”

The shapeshifter shook his head, “At first, I thought so. But after I was able to think about it for a while and talk with Seokjin, no. Not something bad. Something good.”

Hoseok’s jaw dropped. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going. “You mean like...like...”

“Like pack mates.”

“Pack mates?” Hoseok echoed.

“Pack mates,” Namjoon confirmed sheepishly.

“Pack mates,” the fairy repeated once more, a little dazed with the thought.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: Yes, I will address the fact that Taehyung’s familiar is an actual wolf while his two pack mates/boyfriends are wolf shifters. Just wait ;)

[tirednotflirting]

sleepyhead - c.h.

right now i’m a few glasses of wine in and i’ve finally got the guts to post fic for the first time ever so here is a lil blurb thing i wrote in between studying for different finals last week when thinking of soft morning cal was distracting me from primate anatomy.

word count: ~1.9k

she woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke tickling at her nose. after a second breath, she caught a whiff of fresh coffee and rain on the brick walls of her building. knowing he must be out on the covered balcony, she listened closely for the sound of rain, wondering if it had stopped yet, and also picked up his quiet humming of a song she couldn’t quite figure out. a slight breeze blew into the room, causing her to pull the thick comforter up from where it rested at her waist and let her eyes finally flutter open as thoughts of sleeping later drifted off.

the room was dark for 9am, she observed after rolling over to grab her phone and seeing the time. her weather app told her that the storm was to continue well into the evening so if his plans for the day had included anything outside, they would likely need to be put on hold. she lifted her body from the mattress and finally caught sight of him out on the patio, the half-opened door giving her a view of him sipping from his favorite mug with the same hand that held his cigarette as he wrote something in a journal resting against the small glass table she had bought during the summer.

“your balcony has a nice view,” he had said one afternoon in june, soon after they had become friends who actively sought out each other’s company rather than waiting for the next time the world brought them together through mutual friends. “you should get a table out here when you’re more settled, would be a great morning coffee with a book spot.” she bought the table after he mentioned it a second time.

she thought of their initial meeting one another earlier in the year as she glanced up to check on him every couple of minutes as she went through her school inbox on her phone.

it was a grad party back in may for lianna, a friend a couple years her senior. it was out on some trendy rooftop place downtown her parents had rented out. lianna was the kind of girl who knew every kind of person, including the girlfriend of a drummer called ashton irwin. the couple had come along and brought with them ashton’s bandmate, calum. they blended in well with the ucla media studies crowd in their dress and overall low key attitude to the lights and sparkles and fruity drinks that came with downtown la in late spring.

she was a photography major and had met lianna when she got approval to take a senior level course that spring, despite only being a sophomore. she got on well with everyone at the party, all of them being her (now former) classmates and her face was growing achy with how much she was smiling as everyone told her their postgrad plans. she had been taking a social break and was standing at the bar, trying to flag down the bartender, her short stature failing her at that moment. she felt a presence to her left as she huffed in frustration, along with a deep “need some help?”. she turned and saw a man that she remembered recognizing when she had seen him walk in with a gorgeous couple earlier in the night. he was in a band, plays bass, lianna had told her over the tops of their wine glasses. he’s australian, and has a very cute dog, had also been added by the tall red-haired girl.

“yeah, thanks. guess he can’t hear me,” she replied, a tired smile returning to her face. a similar one spread across the curly-haired boy’s lips. “what are you drinking?” he asked, looking down to her as his hand lifted to grab the attention of the bartender, who immediately noticed the man. she took a moment before answering to admire the tattoos that she could see dancing across his forearm as his rolled sleeve pushed up to his elbow.

“the rosé.”

he lifted his chin in a short nod and recited the order as well as his own to the bartender. she pulled herself up into one of the stools at the bar to give her heeled feet a rest and to reduce at least a little bit of the difference in height between herself and the man.

“i’m calum,” he introduced himself, reaching a tattooed hand out into the somewhat limited space between the two of them.

“bennie,” she smiled lazily, her smaller hand accepting his as a glass of pink wine is placed beside her.

she set her phone back to charge and finally pushes back the covers. she reaches to the floor at the end of her bed to pick up a cardigan to throw on over the t-shirt she stole from him to wear when he got in the night before. he would always tease her for taking one of his ratty band t-shirts every time he ended up at her place after the airport rather than his own but never enough for her to toss it back in his duffle.

california in winter could just barely be called that, but the storm was bringing through something they would all call a cold front. he looks up from his writing as he hears her bare feet padding closer to the open door and gently shuts the leather journal, his pen marking his place.

he takes another drag of the cigarette, turning towards the street to blow away the smoke. “lovely weather we’re having today, huh?”

she scoffs at his sarcasm as she pulls out the seat across from him. “la is so happy to have you home that the whole city is crying tears of joy.” 

“hush, ben.” he rolls his eyes but smirks nonetheless at her words.

he takes a moment to admire the girl that’s come to be one his best friends as she reaches forward to pour coffee from the French press he had made into a second mug. sleep had pulled most of her hair from the braid she had done up when they were eating pasta in the kitchen the night before. her eyes were dark around the edges due to the college-student style of exhaustion she always seemed to be and the eyeliner she had claimed she didn’t really need to wash away before bed. seeing her in his clothes made him feel warm in a way he didn’t really understand but always pushed away the thought of.

“ah, you’re right.” she says after a sighing as she takes her first sip from her mug. “she’s actually crying because you’re leaving again in a few days.”

the smile on his face drops as he reaches a foot out to tap against her leg. “hey now, yes i’ll be leaving but then you’re down for that party in the city for new years, right?”

she’s already down to the bottom of her mug (the French press was doing a shit job at retaining any heat and she was going to need to just go back into the kitchen and make more). “if you’ll still have me, yeah. which i hope you will because i’ve definitely already bought the flight.”

“bennie, you were supposed to let me get that.” he says to her with furrowed brows, a small pout forming.

she stands and holds a hand out for his mug so she can go in and make a second cup for the both of them. “okay, well you already got me a room and since your label are the ones hosting the party, you’re basically paying for all my drinks too. so i-“

“it was gonna be your Christmas present, love.” he sighs, handing his mug over.

“the room can be the prese-“

“bennie,” he cuts her off and places a hand at her hip to stop her as she tries to scoot around him to get back inside for coffee and to get away from the conversation. she looks down at where his chipped black polished fingers are placed. “just wanna be able to do something nice for you. i know you worked your ass off this semester and that you’re avoiding the fam for the holiday so i just wanted to treat you.”

she studies the mugs in her hands to avoid his gaze. calum turns his chair to face her so he can wrap both arms around her waist. she huffs and sets the mugs down on the table, letting her hands fall to his shoulders as she looks down to his patient brown eyes.

she takes a deep breath as she moves one hand to the back of his neck, her fingers twirling around the curls there. “and i appreciate it. and i’ve been feeling all warm and fuzzy ever since you asked me to join for this. i think i just convinced myself that letting you do too much for me would make it seem like i was taking advantage. don’t ever want you to feel that way about me.”

his bottom lip juts out further after hearing her think that he could ever even for a moment have some kind of ill opinion of her. “wouldn’t dream of thinking that, darling. i invited you to a party clear across the country, just wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

she feels something flutter inside her when he calls her by pet names and talks about taking care of her but she pushes the thought away. “we should talk more when planning, huh?”

he laughs and shakes his head at her as he opens his legs so she can stand between them as he pulls her closer, his arms moving to wrap more fully around her waist. he lets his head fall against her stomach. “i’m still exhausted.”

she runs a hand through his hair. “it’s called jet lag, ace. go get back in bed. let’s finish the season of peaky blinders we fell asleep in the middle of last night and then we can go pick up duke.” 

he hummed his agreement with the plan for the rest of the morning before turning his head to place a kiss to the inside of bennie’s wrist. as she wanders past him, mugs and french press gathered into her arms, he puts out the last of his cigarette in the ashtray he brought over after she yelled at him for using one of her favorite mugs for the purpose. she’s already back in the kitchen, filling the kettle before setting it back on the stove and digging through her cabinets for the dark roast she’s decided she wants to make for her second cup of the day.

she comes back to her room several minutes later with two steamy mugs to find calum asleep again, her pillow tucked against his chest. she could almost coo at him cuddled under the blanket, chapped lips pouted out as he softly snores. she chuckles quietly to herself as she sets the mugs on her desk before gently climbing back into bed and pulling the pillow away from his arms. it’s only now that she notices the door is still open, the rain still falling at a steady pace and the breeze sneaking its way across the room. as she lays her head against the pillow that now smells of whatever new cologne he picked up on the road, an arm reaches over her body, pulling her against his warm chest. 

“thanks, love,” are the last words she hears before letting her tired eyes drift shut.

~~~~~

thnx for reading if you did and come say hello (i like new pals) and lemme know if i should ever give this kinda thing a shot again. happy saturday !

[stutterfly]

Love Bytes 04 | Addressing Error | KNJ (M)

Last time on LB03: You're ready to go home with Jimin, but obstacles arise, namely your own drunkenness. Namjoon helps you out of a tight spot and you find a new way to stave off loneliness: falling asleep in the comforting arms of a trusted friend. But is there more to it?

Rating: M (18+)

Word Count: 11.4K

Series: Love Bytes (4/?)

Genre: F2l, fluff, humor, slow burn, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, S O F T Namjoon

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7

CW: anxiety, hidden erections, nip-slips, and masturbation(teaser)

masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

A/N: Leave a comment if you like! It’s like fuel to my fire. 💜  Do not repost.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You’re stiff,” you murmur, nuzzling your head into the fabric of his shirt, trying in vain to get comfortable at a ninety degree angle. “Can you like… lay down instead?”

He sighs and repositions, wiggling down beside you. His massive hand cups your head close to his chest as he does so. His head falls against the pillow and he nudges the side of your face with his knuckles. “Better?”

Your face angles upwards and you can just barely make out the mocking flick of his tongue in the moonlight that slips through the blinds. You bury your face, humming a note of approval over his collarbone. You’re quick to splay an arm across his torso and uncurl your fingers against his chest. Heavy fingers climb on yours, trapping your hand between his and the heartbeat beneath your palm. His other hand lands on your shoulder and you shiver when he starts to trace lazy lines up and down your skin.

You don’t have time to fully appreciate the motion as sleep threatens to take you. The last thing you feel is his chin falling against the top of your head, both of you subconsciously snuggling closer. Never in your life have you felt so relaxed, so fast. You forget whom is resting beside you, holding you in a way that keeps you from drunkenly crying yourself to sleep. The world falls away. The thoughts of the night fall away. The emptiness is replaced by something good. Something tender. It’s a strange and foreign concept, and you can’t quite put your finger on it, but what you do know is that it’s the closest thing you’ve ever felt to a place you’ve never truly had: Home.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The first time Namjoon awakens, it’s to the sound of your heavy snoring. He lazily removes the cocked glasses from his face, relieved they hadn’t broken when he fell asleep. Turning his attention to you, he holds in a laugh, then a disgusted snort when he feels the moisture leaking from your mouth onto his arm. You’ve managed to roll away at some point, which makes it easier to slip his arm out from beneath you in order to remove the two layers of shirts from his sweating body.

How many times had he told you to get on the landlord about fixing the broken air conditioning in your unit? On such a hot night, this is torture. He’s tempted to remove his pants, but even half-asleep he knows that would get awkward real fast in the morning. Instead he carefully rises from the mattress and turns on the fan idling beside the bed.

A deep, quiet sigh passes his lips as he rests his head on the pillow once more, a wave of relief  flowing with the air towards him. He blinks a few times, eyelids incredibly heavy as turns to face you, letting the breeze cool his back. Your legs are out from under the sheets and you’re hunched over, oversized shirt scrunched up and exposing the small of your back. He catches the goosebumps that form on your arms and quickly realizes your body might not be running quite as hot. Maybe he can share his natural temperature with you?

He tries as best he can to slide back into position with his arm beneath you, gently feeding it under the crook of your neck. As gross as your drooling and snoring is, it isn’t going to stop him from holding you. He’s been thinking about this for too long to let the opportunity pass him by. He snuggles in closer, blanket acting as a barrier between his now bare chest and your back. His arm falls over your hip as he leans closer, inhaling your scent and committing as much as he can to memory before letting the sounds of your snoring lull him back to sleep.

The second time his eyes open, the sheet is partially draped over him along with an arm and a leg. He takes in the dimly lit view of your face pressed against the skin of his chest. It feels like he’s dreaming, hazy thoughts tempting him to press his lips to the precipice of your forehead. His fingertips twitch against your shoulder, tugging the sheet up and swirling his fingers across it a few times with a smile. That’s when he notices the subtle tremble of your form. Not knowing if you’re cold or having a nightmare, he gently presses you back towards the comfort of your pillow, slowly, regretfully untangling his limbs from yours. He reaches down towards the foot of the bed and hikes a soft, fuzzy blanket to cover whatever chill you may be feeling. He waits, studying the quake of breaths as your chest rises and falls.

He rolls towards you, cradling your head into him, arm draping over you. Your cold fingers quickly find their way to the heat of his core. He breathes a sigh of relief, taking in the beauty of your face before closing his eyes and letting sleep reclaim him once more.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When the sun creeps in through the blinds, it’s a good sign that it’s a lot later in the day than you’d like. You groan, rolling away from the light hitting your face and splay your hand across the mattress. Your eyes flutter open with the realization you had asked Namjoon to sleep with you last night. The sight of the empty space next to you has you breathing a sigh of relief --and if you’re being honest with yourself, just a hint of disappointment.

The recollection of his hands intertwined with yours causes a dull ache to form in your heart. It had been so long since anyone had held you like that. It felt so good. You close your eyes, envisioning those long, slender fingers cupping your shoulder. Were you remembering the details correctly? Had he actually been as caring and sweet as your mind recalled? The blanket covering your torso says yes. Scooching over to the side of the bed, you grab at the phone on your nightstand, pulling it from the charger. Your mind struggles to remember the moment you had enough clarity to charge your phone; you quickly surmise Namjoon probably did that for you too. As you swipe the screen, a message is waiting.

Joonie 😬: Drink up

That’s when you notice the cup sitting on the nightstand. The sweating glass and remnants of ice indicate it’s been there for quite some time. You throw your head back against the pillow and look over at the place where he had been laying last night. Again your hand drapes across the empty expanse of mattress, missing the heat from his chest when it comes into contact with something hard. Your fingers clasp around the plastic frames of Namjoon’s folded glasses. You puff your cheeks and expel a burst of air, wishing he were here instead of the item in your hand.

You attribute the thought to the frustration coursing through your lower abdomen. You reach into the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out the pink vibrator nestled between the lingerie you never wear. You’re sorely disappointed as you bring it to your aching cunt. Of fucking course the battery is dead. Tossing it aside, your fingers work quickly to ease the tension radiating throughout your body, remembering the way it felt grinding on Jimin’s cock.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s early in the week when you get the tech service request for Professor Kim’s office computer. It’s been relatively slow so far. If Namjoon’s good for one thing, it’s your job security. You’ve only gotten a couple repairs and a stream of basic support calls, most of which were fixed by turning the computer off and on again. You roll your eyes as you read the description of the problem, but when they click “in-person appointment: required, status: urgent” you hardly have a choice in whether or not the trek across campus is worth your time. How many times could you tell him what the ethernet cable looked like? Although with his luck, he might have ripped it from the tower with his gangly legs and broke it.

Regardless, you stuff an extra ethernet cable into your tool case and click “accept.” A message appears on your work tracker with a smiley face with thick black frames and buck teeth: “Your Tech Service Is On the Way!” On one hand you hate that stupid emoji, but on the other hand it makes you laugh that management is convinced this is the way you make people not scream at you when their wireless mouse needs a battery changed.

You begin the journey across campus on foot, knowing it’s a little over a kilometer to his office in the library. As you exit the computer science building, you longingly stare at the little golf carts you once had the luxury of using for quick transport from one end of campus to the other. However, since the last IT guy they hired took one for a joyride and crashed it into the koi pond in front of admissions, all carts had been recently restricted to security only. You also find the campus courtesy bike rack empty as you round the corner. You swear they should always keep at least one bike reserved for maintenance, but whatever. Your mood lightens a few steps in as sunshine floods your skin; it’s been a slow day anyway. Who knows? Maybe Joon actually has a reasonable problem with his network this week.

After a leisurely stroll in the sun, two flights of stairs, and stack after stack of bookshelves, you finally arrive at his office door. It occurs to you that he might be with a student as you approach the closed door, so you take a deep breath and try to put on your best fake customer service smile before rapping your knuckles against the wood, narrowly missing the plaque with his name engraved on it.

A few seconds later the professor is opening the door, with an expression as hard as stone. You can tell by the bags under his eyes that he’s fatigued, but physically composed nonetheless. It never ceases to amaze you the transformation he undergoes from slicked-back, slacks and suit coat “Mr. Kim” to mussed up hair, Saturday night baggy sweats Namjoon. The smile falls from your face as you look at him. You feel like Smeagol emerging from his cave for the first time in years, highly aware of the lack of makeup on your face, the disheveled birds nest that is your hair, and the cheap white t-shirt and cargo pants full of screws that loosely hang about your waist.

He blinks a few times and his expression softens, little dimples forming with a wan smile. “Oh good. It’s only you.” He nods towards his desk. “Come in.”

“Rough week, buddy?” you ask, half teasing, half concerned for his state of mind. When he doesn’t answer, you quirk an eyebrow at him, slipping in past his far-off stare.

The door closes softly a moment later and you’re already getting your case open in the event it’s needed. Clearly he’s not in a chatty mood, but you feel the need to offer anyway. Gripping his shoulder brings him back down to earth, looking at you through troubled brows. “Hey, if you wanna talk… I’m here, Joon.”

“I’d love to get your opinion…” A frustrated sigh passes his lips and he breaks past you to pace around the comfy chair across from his desk. “But... I can’t talk to you about my students, you know that.”

You cock your head to the side, sheepishly scratching your cheek with a fingertip as you watch him stride across his office. “Is this another one of those ethical things or an actual policy?”

You don’t take it personally when he glares daggers at you. As you settle in his computer chair you do a preliminary scan of his network settings, stealing cursory glances towards him. He plops into the cushioned chair across from the desk, sinking into it with a sigh.

“So there’s this student,” he begins, locking eyes with you briefly.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum in a tone that tells him to proceed, gazing at the screen as you wait for him to spill whatever he’s so preoccupied with.

“They’re brilliant, but they don’t care about the work. They don’t even need to try that hard; they have this natural talent, but they can’t be bothered to even put in the bare minimum. I don’t think they’ve even read any of the required texts for the course,” he continues, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t like seeing anyone fail my course, especially not someone as smart and creative as this. How do you reach someone who doesn’t want to try? How do you keep someone from falling through the cracks?”

Your eyes rest on the screen, not really looking at anything as your brain scrambles to piece together some kind of advice. “I learned years ago when I tutored people… you can’t make people care about the content. You can suggest ways of making the experience unique or fun for individuals. But ultimately, it’s on them. Three things I think when I show up for work every day: do your best, be patient, and don’t give up.”

Your eyes meet again and you can see him exhale, features still troubled, but the smile he sends your way is warmer, more relaxed. “Do you best. Be patient. Don’t give up,” he repeats softly and lets a halfhearted chuckle loose. “Thank you. I’ll think about it some more.” He groans, rising to his feet and smoothing back his hair. “After I grade the rest of the tests and essays.” You stiffen as he circles the desk, standing behind you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Make any progress?”

You tongue the inside of your cheek as you stare at the blinking cursor on command prompt. You haven’t actually done anything yet and in an attempt to look busy you run a quick ipconfig command, knowing it will look like a bunch of gibberish to someone like Joon. With the computer not recognizing the ethernet and no wireless adapter installed, you know the first step is to check the physical connection. You clear your throat loudly as you drop to your hands and knees, mumbling a quick. “Working on it.”

The tower is further back under the desk than you would like and you pull it towards you just a bit, falling onto your elbows to inspect the cables. Seeing everything in tact, your vision follows the cord to the jack in the wall; everything looks normal.

Namjoon keeps his hands tucked away, watching the delicious sight of you on all fours before him. This is easily one of his favorite parts about your visits, though he always tries to act casual about it. Face down, ass up; you really get into it. He wants to say you do it on purpose because maybe you know what it does to him--he had seen your games of chicken with Jimin, ever the tease-- but he also knows it’s more likely a side effect of you being passionate about your job.

Still, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a sick satisfaction watching you like this. You grunt softly, lunging even farther forward onto one knee in order to physically ensure the cable is pushed into the wall. Namjoon’s eyelids close and he sighs, biting down on his lip to force the air through his nostrils. He turns towards the window to hide the way his pants begin to tent, but keeps his head turned to watch your ass sway from side to side, the thin outline of your panties visible through the cream-colored fabric.

God, he hates himself for being so gross, but he can’t seem to break away from the sight, especially not with the lingering memory of Saturday haunting the gap between his thoughts: your legs dragging across the sheets, enticing him to join you in bed with the subtle pout of soft lips that promised more than they could possibly deliver. He wonders if you even remember, but doesn’t dare to get his own hopes up by assuming you do. You were drunk. Didn’t really mean it. Cuddling you was a one time thing. He knew that and yet he was still trying to find a way to reassure himself that once would be enough to sate the craving deep inside. But now he knew how it felt to wake up next to you, and it only intensified his desire to repeat the interaction.

You reach back towards the end of the cable plugged into the computer and push against it with your thumb and forefinger. There’s a small ‘click’. That will probably do it, but you lean back and wiggle out of the crawlspace beneath the desk, staying on your knees as your eyes scan the screen for any difference in connectivity.

You feel Namjoon hovering behind you and your eyes dart to the face that appears beside yours as he leans in. “Did you fix it?”

You fix your eyes back to the screen. Network connected. You do another ipconfig and flush the DNS just for good measure. “Looks like it. Ever thought about not kicking your big clown feet into the mess of wires down there?”

“Is that how you talk to all your clients?” he scoffs as he stands up straight. He casually walks behind the computer chair and plants his hands on the back cushion, careful to hide the softening bulge in his pants.

You move to seat yourself as he nudges it toward you. “Just the ones that are incompetent enough to need my help every week when they unhook their ethernet."

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in a huff. "Okay well it could have been something more. You would have yelled at me if I tried to fix it myself 'cause you know I would have probably made it worse somehow."

"That's true," you mutter, falling back to rest against the cushion of the chair. "Alright, is there anything else you needed or is this it?" You tilt your head back up to look at him.

His eyes lock onto yours. Could he tell you? Is now the time? He starts playing all of the possible scenarios in his head of how this might play out. The anxiety bubbling in his chest causes an uncomfortable span of silence to choke the air out of his lungs. Nope. Not today.

You clear your throat loudly as you stand. "Okay well, as always, don't forget to leave a review on the app if I resolved your issue, Mr. Kim."

He blinks a few times in rapid succession, snapping himself back to reality. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

You grab your tool case and turn back for a moment, coy smile on your lips. "Just being professional."

"Professional, my ass," he laughs and you can still hear the tiredness in it. "Don't worry. I'll give you a good review."

"Okay, but like don't be too extra 'cause they'll know we're friends. Short and simple," you say, opening the door and flashing him a phony smile. In an attempt to make him smile, you put on your best customer service voice once more. "I hope my services were pleasurable, Mr. Kim!"

He chokes out a cough to restrain his laughter as you turn to face the student waiting outside the doorframe. You inhale deeply, holding the air in as you try to think of something that will save face with this doe-eyed, timid-looking girl --most likely a freshman.

The breath leaves you in a quick huff as you attempt to make a statement. "Sorry. I need to go service someone else, excuse me."

Hoping the words came out too fast for the poor girl to comprehend, you nearly sprint around the closest stack of books and try to purge the memory of the horrified look on that girl's face. Your phone beeps and a message appears: 'Feedback: Professor Kim Namjoon: "Better than GeekSquad."' You shake your head and mutter "he's so lame" as you travel through the stacks, but you can't help the smile that creeps across your face. Despite just embarrassing the shit out of you both, you take pride in the personal flare of his comment.

The rest of your day goes by painfully slow and for some reason you find yourself thinking how professional Namjoon always manages to look in his professor attire. Even dead tired, he still manages to look so good, so composed--again, not that you'd ever admit it to his face. You catch a glimpse of yourself in a blank monitor nearby and crinkle your nose at the reflection. Your boss is a pretty chill dude and is super laid back about dress code, but maybe you could stand to try a little harder. It's not like you're trying to impress anyone, but something about feeling like a shriveled goblin next to Namjoon today has you second guessing the laissez faire nature of your wardrobe.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A little later in the week, you're sprawled across the loveseat after work, neck craned around the armrest as you're catching up on a tv show. The phone resting on your chest buzzes and your heart damn near stops beating for just a second. Panic slowly seeps into your mind. It's not often you get a direct message from Taehyung. Group chats are one thing. You seeking him out for advice is another. But unprompted texting direct from the god of baritones? Why do you get the feeling there's something sinister at play here?

Oh, right. Because Taehyung is a beautiful goddamn hermit.

You stare blankly at the keyboard on your phone. Over the last year, you've gotten close to the seven of them, but Taehyung has been the most closed off, the hardest to get to know. His resting bitch face makes for a great barrier between the outside world and himself and you can't help but think maybe he likes it that way. Come to think of it, you still don't know much about him, except for the fact that he's loaded, good at painting, and insanely attractive. And you know how he makes you feel: nervous, faint, like a helpless animal caught in a trap.

You've never been well-equipped to talk to someone of his stature. Just catching eyes with him makes you feel unworthy of his gaze, like you're so far beneath him that it's a crime to do so. You know he's not so scary, that he's not a god to be placed on any pedestal, but his presence intimidates you. His eyes, his body language, the way he talks; it's all very closed off compared to the others and you worry it might be that you've done something to upset him at some point and he's just held onto it instead of mentioning it directly.

In fact, you sometimes worry that you might not even be friends at all, what with the level of distance he seems to maintain. You hope that he considers you one, but you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer the message before you remains an inquiry in need of response.

Tae: Are you busy?

Should you just pretend you didn't see it? No. He has a fancy new iPhone. There's no way he won't get the read receipt on it. Stop taking so long and just act normal.

You: Haha just me and some Netflix. What's up?

The loud gunshots playing from the TV do nothing to distract you from the silence of your phone. Your eyes are glued to the image on your lock screen, waiting for Taehyung to message you back. You nearly jump when the vibrations hit your hand.

Tae: Come over

Your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of your skull. Why? An invite to his place? Are we on a group chat? No? Oh fuck. The panic sets in and you feel like you're going to pass out as you read far too much into the two simple words on your screen. A knot forms in your stomach and sweat begins to build on your forehead. Clumsy fingers fumble their way across the keyboard.

You: Excuse me???

Tae: Oh... has Hoseok not talked to you yet...?

You peel your eyes from the screen and stare blankly at the television for a moment, brows immediately furrowing.

You: about what

The knot in your stomach grows bigger as you wait for the response. What the fuck did Hobi do now?

Tae: ...

Tae: The photoshoot?

You rise from the couch, dread filling the expanse of your belly. What the fuck do you mean photoshoot? You're a bitch on a mission, already sprint-stomping down the hallway towards Hoseok and Yoongi's apartment. Your knuckles rap against the door in quick succession, not having time or the patience for your special knock. Almost a minute passes before you press an ear against the door. Nothing. Again you knock, louder this time. There's a grumble and shuffling from the other side before the door swings open.

You're about to vent your frustration and confusion when you realize it's not Hoseok standing before you, but his roommate. You don't know why it hasn't dawned on you until this very moment that there was a very good possibility Yoongi would answer the door. The annoyance in his face fades with the recognition of the shock on yours.

He flashes you a subdued smile, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth. "Yes?"

Immediately your posture becomes rigid, bristling at the innocent response to you pounding on his door. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you prepare your lips for the words funneling painfully slowly out of your brain. You haven't had a chance to permanently quarantine the memory of Yoongi finger-fucking two girls at the club. You're positive that fact is written all over your face as he raises his eyebrows and darts his tongue out to wet his lips.

Amused by your silence, he leans against the doorframe and tilts his head up at you with a cocky grin. "Do you always freeze up when you see something you like?"

Your jaw snaps shut as you swallow the frog in your throat and shake your head. "Just when I see something I'm not expecting."

He seems entertained as he crosses his arms. "So did you actually need something or are you just desperate for attention?"

The direct nature of his question catches you off guard and you feel your pride take a hit. You mirror his stance, shrinking in stature as you fold your arms across your chest. "Y-You don't have to be rude!"

A smile cracks at the corners of his mouth. "Relax I'm kidding... Mostly."

You roll your eyes. "Well I'm not here for your mean jokes today. Where's your roommate? I've got a bone to pick with him."

You don't hear Hoseok approaching from behind you, a finger pressed to his lips as a signal for Yoongi to remain silent. The mint-haired man raises his eyebrows and cocks his head in the other direction, the anticipation of the upcoming scare growing the smug grin on his face. "Not up for banter? Tsk, tsk. That's not like you. Did your night with Namjoonie go that poorly?" he teases, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "Are you sensitive because Jimin's rubbing off on you?"

Even ignoring the insinuation about Namjoon, which is totally ludicrous, the double meaning of his last statement is not lost on you. Yoongi laughs in his obnoxious way, shoulders rising and falling with the nearly breathless, croaky sound emanating from his throat. “Or is it because he’s not?”

The humiliation tints your cheeks with pink, although it's hard to hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears. Hoseok takes the opportunity to sneak in closer as you attempt to stutter out a defense.

He gives a sudden stomp towards you and grips your shoulders. “Again!?”

You jump hard, reaching out towards Yoongi for safety. The lurch forward is accompanied by a frightened yelp passing your lips. The two boys burst into a fit of laughter as you spin on your heels to face Hoseok.

"You're such a dick, Hobi!" you hiss, running shaky fingers through your hair, pretending you can comb the anxiety from your scalp if you just keep trying.

He grins and bows. "At your service. Still better than those Tinder dicks though."

"She's looking for you," Yoongi says with a yawn, scratching at the back of his head. "Sounded pretty pissed from the way she was stomping around."

Hoseok's brow knots and he puckers his lips at you as he whines, "Why?"

You note the duffel bag strapped to his chest and the sweat drenching every inch of his body. He looks absolutely exhausted. That almost lessens the desire to bring it up, but Taehyung's message is still unanswered. Every time you think about it you die a little more inside.

You take a moment to sharply inhale through your nose, sighing out a long exhale as you thrust the screen of your phone in his face. "Why is Taehyung texting me about a photoshoot?"

The way you're waving it around makes it difficult for him to see. He leans back, cupping his hands around the edge of the phone to get a better look. His eyes suddenly snap to you and a crooked smile splits his face in two. The knot in your stomach ties itself up a second time as he snatches the phone from your grasp and books it down the hallway towards your apartment. You blink a few times and give chase just as he steps inside; you want to scream at him but you're very aware of the public hallway separating you. Yoongi rubs his eyes and slowly returns to his lair, ready for the relief of sleep to cure the pain of extra shifts. "I'm not awake enough for this."

"I live here you know," you remind Hoseok as you close the door to your own apartment.

The man is oddly absent from the room, Netflix still blaring on the TV. The contents of his duffel bag have been dumped onto your living room floor and you can hear him talking to himself in another room.

"Hobi?" you call, rushing into the bedroom. "Hobi! What the hell?"

The duffel bag lays open on the bed, already half filled with clothes: your clothes. Hoseok doesn't bother to spare a glance as he tosses something in the bag; it looks vaguely familiar, but you don't bother to look closer because he's already taking out another item. He's careful with both delicate straps as he pulls it from the hanger, cellphone glued to his ear. A series of thoughtless one-word affirmations are mumbled into the receiver as he traps the device between his shoulder and neck. He cocks his head to the side as he inspect the dress, running his fingers down the material. Spinning on his heels toward you, he presses the fabric against himself, mouthing "WOW!" with a cheeky grin. You wish he'd act a little less surprised to find something sexy in your wardrobe. Dick.

You tongue the inside of your cheek as he runs one of his hands along the material draped across his chest and throws his torso back dramatically. That thing has been the back of your closet since the day you bought it; there is literally never a reason to wear it, but you can't exactly bring yourself to donate it either, not for the money you paid. He pauses a moment and notes the long slit in the side of the dress, playfully dragging a hand up his thigh. The impulse buy clings to him as he rotates his hips a few times to mock you, and heat rushes to your face. With a silent laugh, he tosses the garment into the bag.

"Yeah, we'll be over soon. See you in 15. Okay, bye." As he hangs up he slides the closet door shut, shining smile doing nothing to lift the frown from your lips.

"Hobi. What. Did. You. Do." The stippled words cut their way through your mouth. You can't help the bristle in your tone but your impatience has gotten the better of you.

His grin grows impossibly wider. "Ah, what are you mad for? Can't you at least hear me out before your face gets like this?" He scrunches up his features in an attempt to drop the scowl on yours, but your expression remains unchanged. "Hmmm. Okay!"

With a quick zip, he tosses the bag back around his shoulder. You raise your eyebrows at him and cross your arms. "You wanna tell me why you're packing my clothes?"

"We're going to Tae's. I'll explain on the drive," he responds simply, trying to loop his arm in yours but you shrug him off and step out of range. His face drops into a pout. "Come on. Why don't you trust me?"

"Because I know you," you snort, wagging your finger in his face. "You are not one to be trusted. Sneaky, Jung Hoseok."

He places a palm over his heart and looks at you as though you just wrongfully insulted his character, but you know better than to trust the dramatic act. He needs to explain himself and not just drag you off on some bizarre adventure. You're exhausted. While earlier this week had been pretty lax, an upsurge in service requests had you running all over campus on a tight schedule and not all of the issues were quite so easy as re-seating a loose cable. There’s a lot waiting for you tomorrow, so for tonight you want nothing more than to mindlessly binge TV and vegetate.

"Explain."

He shifts his weight to one foot and folds his hands over one another, sheepishly twiddling his thumbs. "Well... After looking through your dating profile, I thought maybe we could help you make it better."

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. "That's what this is about? Hobi…” You want to forget he even knew about that, but his words replay in your head. Your eyes narrow. "...Wait… We?"

"The group. Me. Yoongs, Tae, Chim, Kook, Jin... even Namjoon. We all wanna make you a new profile."

"There's nothing wrong with what I have. Give me my phone." You hold your palm out and flex your fingers at him a few times.

"Oh really?" He tosses your phone back at you, causing you to fumble. "Tinder's going good then? Talking to a lot of people?"

"I haven't really had time to look," you fib, an innate eye twitch threatening to give you away. Swiping is part of your bedtime routine and you haven't gotten any matches, but he doesn't need to know that. In your defense, you've only been shown bottom-of-the-barrel neckbeard types anyway. You look from the phone back to Hoseok's smug face.

"What's so bad about my current profile? I worked really hard on it!" The brittle tone of your voice betrays the defense of your words. Tears are building up behind your eyes, but you won't let them out yet. How embarrassing, how sad must your life seem if all seven of them want you to start over? He said even Namjoon was on board. Could it be because of Saturday?

Your eyes scan the disheveled blankets, remembering how stupid you sounded that night, how pitiful and weak you had been to practically throw yourself at him in a hopeless attempt to feel something with someone. Did he tell them? Or did Hobi just figure it out on his own? The lump in your throat makes it hard to swallow but it's all you can manage to suppress the rage bubbling inside you.

No no no no no. Do not fucking cry right now. The tears hold for now, but the dam can break at any second.

"Okay I'm gonna be honest. Your profile? Meeeeeeh." He holds out his hand and flips it rapidly back and forth. "But with our help we can make it like WOAH SO AMAZING!" He flips both palms and raises them to the ceiling before waving his hands around to further accent his statement.

How the hell did he have all this oomph left after dance practice? You can practically feel the positive energy radiating from him, doing your best to keep your expression sour. But the genuine smile on his face makes you want to believe he will make things better, not worse.

"...How?"

"Well, taking new photos for starters," he says, sheepishly scratching his cheek.

"What? What's wrong with my photos?" You're already pulling them up to review again, just in case they're actually embarrassing and you're just too clueless to realize.

"Ah! Nothing!" he yelps, pulling you into a hug. "But I think you can have better ones, not just selfies." He tussles your hair and you crack a smile.

The weight of his hands move down and tug playfully on the hair behind your neck, forcing you to look up at him. The memory of his offer at the club resurfaces in your mind. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire. You swallow, looking up into deep brown eyes that radiate hope. You lose the argument on the tip of your tongue before it can even form.

"I asked Tae if he could shoot something a little more sexy."

You step back to create some space, breaking the teasing hold he has. Your eyes drift to your phone and scour the app for your profile. You hold up the full body shot for him to see again, as if this time he will agree that you don't need their help. "Um, excuse me? This one is sexy."

He tilts his head to the side and throws up his hands. "Ah, yeah. That one's sexy and mysterious. I like the curves, but I think we can turn up the heat. I'm thinking more of you in that dress!" he adds with a wolf whistle.

A small chuckle escapes your lips. Of course he thinks that; he’s Hobi. His fire burns hotter than most people’s. Even so, maybe he has a point. "You think that will really help?"

"I know it," he says with the confidence of a man who knows he's got you on the ropes. "Ah... Look we all know how amazing you are. Let us help you show it!"

You're still not totally convinced this is a great idea, but your batting average is zero right now and you're at least somewhat willing to entertain the idea that they can help increase the number.

"Okay. Let me grab my makeup. We can't be out all night though. I have to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know it's a school night. Don't worry. I'll have you back before you turn into a pumpkin." He grins, jingling the car keys now between his fingers. You're already texting Namjoon to help you hatch an escape plan.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You've been standing with your arms covering your chest for the better part of five minutes, internally dismantling what little confidence you possessed before coming here. Hoseok had been persuasive enough on the drive here; he made a good argument for taking nicer photos in slightly sexier clothing with better angles and lighting. But you had gone far past "slightly sexy" the moment Hoseok abandoned you for a shower in Taehyung's master suite, handing you off to an almost too eager Jungkook. 

Needless to say, Hoseok failed to mention Taehyung's gorgeous roommate would be involved, nor did he mention Jungkook would be planning your outfit combinations with Tae's scene setup. Did they really have to get so involved and make a huge deal about your stupid dating profile?

Standing in Jungkook's bedroom now clad in swimwear, you stare at the grumpy reflection in the full-length mirror before you. I can't fucking go out there like this. I feel practically naked.

You carefully open a dresser drawer in search of cover for your humiliation. Jungkook is just outside with the rest of your clothes Hoseok stuffed into his gym bag. If only he let you have it so you could at least see if there was something in there to cover up with.You can tell his patience is waning as the familiar quick rapping of knuckles comes once more.

"Y/N, are you okay?" The concern in his tone almost makes you feel guilty for going through his shit, but you can't just go out there dressed in just your bikini and some cutoffs.

You swallow hard, eyes scanning every last piece of fabric crammed in the drawer. How the hell does he even fit everything in here???

"Yeah, I'm fine," you call back, trying not to sound as distressed as you feel. "Just, uh.... struggling with the straps."

There's a short pause. "...Do you need any help? I'm pretty good with straps." The words travel to your ears accompanied by visions of the mischievous grin you know he's sporting.

Inhaling deeply, you hold your breath. When you had first met Jungkook, he was shy, timid, kind, and definitely not the teasing brat you had come to know. No matter how much time passes, he still seems to hold onto immature remarks that make you want to toss him out a window. Like you could. That guy is built like a brick shithouse.

You take a moment to collect yourself, grabbing at the nearest piece of fabric that catches your eye. "Aw, it's so cute when baby wants to help."

As you quickly slip the white flowing fabric over your shoulders, you check yourself in the mirror one last time. Thank god you shaved this morning or this would be way more awkward. Combing your fingers through your hair drives you to look for more imperfections, wishing he hadn't taken your hair-tie.

The groan from the other side of the wall pulls you out of scrutiny-mode. "I am not a baby."

"Bras are a little different than the jockstraps you're used to, Kookie," you sneer, pulling the door open in a huff.

Jungkook is hunched over the frame with an elbow. The rebuttal dies on his lips as his gaze travels from the floor up your body. Your ears start ringing at the silence and the undeniable thirst in his expression, the way he darts his tongue out, holding his teeth over his lower lip. His stare lingers a little too long on your breasts so you cross your arms, the flowing material around your form obscuring his view.

Agitated eyes snap to your face as he uses his tongue to poke the inside of his cheek. His features scrunch into a scowl. "I do have game you know. You're looking at an international playboy."

God he's so full of shit. Making out with a girl at the 'Small World' ride at Disneyland doesn't count.

"Yeah okay, Kookie," you scoff, rolling your eyes as you move to walk past him.

A rigid forearm reaches across the doorway to block your path, sleeveless shirt showcasing every bulging muscle in his arms. He straightens his posture to tower over you, flexing in a show of bravado. "It's Jungkook."

The air is sucked from your lungs as he pins you with a dark, taunting look that almost rivals Yoongi's. Almost. Needles prick at your ears and you can feel your hands immediately start to break into a cold sweat.

"What, you don't believe me, Noona?" he asks innocently, sweeping gentle fingers along your shoulder and around your neck. You grow tense at the sensation, doing your best to fight the stutter in your blink and the hitch in your breath.

The arm crossing the doorway drops and tugs on the material covering you. "Is that my shirt?"

"You're not using it," you argue, grateful for the distraction as you slip past him. "Does it really bother you that much?"

"No, I don't mind. But..." His lips pucker up into a ridiculous pout and he sways his body back and forth. "The whole point is to make you look sexy but you're here covering up. Hyung trusted me with this job. Promise you'll take it off when you're in front of the camera?"

"You're taking it off for the camera?" Namjoon's voice booms out from over your shoulder. He takes a second to snap his tongue against his teeth as he approaches. "Wow. Guess you don't need saving after all, Geeksquad."

You spin to give him a playful shove, but an uneasy sensation quickly settles in the pit of your stomach. Time seems to slow as the strap around your neck falls. The words passing your lips are frenzied nonsense, clumsy hands fumbling to keep soft flesh from spilling out of your top. Namjoon's eyes go wide, mouth falling open at the sight of your failure. You curse, turning back towards Jungkook as you manage to regain coverage.

If the smug grin didn't give him away, the cocky words that follow seal his culpability. "I'm pretty good with straps. Sure you don't need some help?"

Your eyes narrow, fingers floundering with the tie around your neck. "Don't you have something better to do?"

His obnoxious laugh echoes down the hallway as he slips past you. "I'll tell Tae you're on your way."

You fold the cover across your chest and face Namjoon, clearing your throat weakly. "Y-You didn't, uh..."

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, blush mirroring yours. "No, no. I didn't."

"Okay." You breathe a sigh of relief. "Good. Good."

"I-I mean I barely saw--" He puffs out his cheeks, guilt painting his features.

You inhale deeply, trying to quell the shame in your chest as you cast your gaze at the floor. Silence fills the air between you for a few seconds.

He sputters out a held breath and pinches his fingers together. "Okay, like just a-- just a little nip-nipple--"

"Oh my god! Namjoon!" You bring your hands to cover your face, wanting to slither back into Jungkook's room and seal yourself away. But you force yourself to brush past him and make your way to the room Taehyung had converted to his studio. You can hear Namjoon’s long strides behind you, barely needing to try to keep pace with your pathetic attempts at jogging. He keeps muttering out apologies, but every word only heightens your awareness to the awkwardness of the event rather than helping you forget it.

The door to Taehyung’s studio is already open and as you turn the corner to enter, you come to a screeching halt, causing Namjoon’s to smack against your back. He reaches to your shoulders to steady himself, but it doesn’t even register on the list of things currently buzzing through your brain. It’s so well lit in here. No one told you it would be this bright. You cross Jungkook’s shirt impossibly closer to your torso and swallow the hum buzzing in your throat.

Sensing your discomfort, Namjoon leans down and whispers, “Hey, we can just leave. This is too much. I’ll talk to them.”

A relieved chuckle bursts from your mouth with the breath you’ve been holding. He offers the escape you asked for. He offers the familiar comfort and safety of returning to your apartment. But these things bring you no closer to the companionship you crave, meaningful or trivial in nature. Maybe what you asked for isn’t really what you need.

Looking about the room, Taehyung’s back is to you as he works on finalizing the tripod in the middle of the room, focusing the camera atop it at the well-lit screen. Off to the side, a very casually dressed, very wet, curly-haired Hoseok holds both ends of the towel draped around his neck. Beside him Jungkook stands with arms crossed and crinkled nose as he throws his head back in obnoxious laughter that fills the room. The pair are speaking to a short, well-dressed blonde man who contrasts everything about the two standing adjacent to him. If his stature, tight pants, and billowing overshirt didn’t give it away, the way he quickly roams his fingers through his hair as he talks to Jungkook certainly does.

Jimin?! Jimin’s here too?! What kind of fucked up intervention is this? I’m going to kill Hobi.

Hoseok’s attention span wavers and settles on your form in the doorway as you all but cower back into Namjoon. Hoseok’s excited wave draws the attention of his companions and they turn their gaze on you. Jungkook’s smug smirk, Hoseok’s thrilled grin, and Jimin’s shy smile illicit extremely different fear responses, which mingle to form a deep panic in your gut that threatens to cause hyperventilation. 

Namjoon’s fingertips dig into your skin, thumbs kneading soothing circles into the meat of your shoulders. He speaks softly, but his deep voice buzzes deep in your eardrum. “Breathe. It’s okay. I’ll tell ‘em to call it off.”

You let out a deep, controlled exhale. Then another. The panic attack that threatens to take hold quickly crumples in your belly. You often take for granted just how well Namjoon knows you, how well he can read the signals of your body and avert disaster before it arrives. Never once have you given it a second thought, never questioned the stability he offers with a touch, the praise that mollifies you. Today is no different; you push the gratitude aside and settle your eyes on the blonde man across the room.

“Good. Good...” The delicate string of breath against your ear trails off, knowing full well you’re already past it.

The others have fallen silent, waiting for you to move in and say something. The snarky comment on your lips shrivels and your lips melt into a goofy smile at the awkward air filling the room. Taehyung senses something is off and turns slowly, one hand still on the tripod as he locks eyes with you from across the room. An icy chill fills your lungs as his intense stare bores into you. Your shoulders raise, muscles tightening as you slink back into Namjoon’s chest. Taehyung slips his hands in his pockets as long, confident strides carry him towards you.

“You look terrified,” he mumbles with a stony expression that twists your stomach into knots. “Are you afraid of me? Of us?”

The hardness in his eyes fades in an instant and is replaced by a kindness you rarely see. His mouth curls into a warm smile as he leans forward with a slight bow. “You don’t have to worry so much, you know. We’re friends. We want to help, but I understand if it’s too much being put on the spot like this.”

We’re friends. You knew that and still the anxiety corroding your insides persists. The energy shift in his persona nearly gives you whiplash. Was this the same angry-looking man, poised like a god as he did his peacock strut over here? He raises a hand towards you, palm facing the ceiling. The rings around his fingers seem to shimmer as they reflect the lights set around the room.

“Only take my hand if you want to be here,” he says softly, the low bass of his tone almost apologetic. “There’s nothing joyful about taking pictures of someone who doesn’t feel like smiling.”

He seems so sincere and genuine. Is this what Taehyung is really like under that cold exterior? Your shoulders relax and your arms drop to your sides, allowing Jungkook’s shirt to partially expose your torso. His eyes never waver from your face as he waits for your answer. The others watch on, silently nodding at his words. You can feel Namjoon’s fingers drop down your back, tracing light, reassuring lines as they go.

“Taehyung,” you begin, voice stronger than you imagined it would be. You clasp your cold, clammy fingertips along the warmth of his. “I would be honored if you would photograph me. Sorry it’s not for anything more exciting than a dating profile.”

His smile grows wider and he offers a playful tug, lurching you forward. “It’s not the final output that matters so much to me as the moments spent taking them.”

Was everyone else seeing how sweet he was being? You look over at the trio, but they appear unfazed. Were you really the only one surprised by Taehyung’s hidden kindness? You suppose it makes sense, considering they have all known each other for much longer. Not everyone is going to spill their guts to someone after a year of only moderate interaction.

You nod, appreciating the sentiment. “Okay. Show me where I should stand and what I should do.”

He gently directs you to a seemingly random spot in front of the camera. You feel washed out under the heat of at least three different lamps shining at you. Taehyung steps back, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you. His brow twitches lightly and he shifts his jaw back and forth before turning his attention to the trio standing nearby.

“Jimin, warm ups. Jungkook, reflector. Hyung--” Taehyung starts barking orders, but Hoseok interrupts already on his way to you.

“I got it!” He cheerfully replies, pulling a small lip balm from his pocket and hastily twists it open. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I thought about it for a long time before finally picking this color for you.”

You purse your lips and reluctantly tick your jaw a few times. Reluctance has a strong hold on you.

“Oh relax, you big baby,” he chides, vicing your cheeks with his thumb and index finger to force your lips to pucker. He’s careful with his application of the color to your lips, making sure not to veer off course. “You’re gonna do great. Trust me. Just relax.” He demonstrates by taking in a deep breath, holding it, and then exhales. “Easy!”

"Yeah, easy." You sigh and force yourself to give him a smile and a thumbs up. "Okay."

"Oh, are you going to keep this on?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over the silky collar around your neck. His eyes drag across the faint glimmer of skin hidden underneath before darting to Jungkook as if to say 'you had one job.' Jungkook catches eyes with him and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with a pout.

"I don't know..." you trail, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings. "I just... don't feel very confident, I guess."

Hoseok dabs your lip with his pinky for good measure. "That's okay. That's why Jimin is here. He's going to help you warm up a little. Maybe you'll want to take it off after you get comfortable?" He smacks his lips a few times, indicating you need to rub your lips together to make the color even.

You do as he asks, feeling a little foolish as you share a shy smile with the blonde man nearby. There are certainly other ways Jimin could help you warm up; it was still pretty hard to face him after bailing last Saturday though. You do your best to push the thoughts from your mind and turn your attention to the doorway where Namjoon is standing, arms crossed with a sly smile decorating his features.

"What are you just gonna watch the whole time?" you call out, feeling uncertain about his cheeky grin. Suddenly you remember not too long ago he watched your tits come toppling out of your bathing suit and you fall silent, focusing on the legs of the tripod.

He licks his lips and takes a few steps forward with a sharp raise of his brow. "You texted me, remember? So now that you don't need me for anything," he pauses as he takes a folded chair from the wall nearby and sets it down a short distance behind the camera, "I think I'm gonna make it worth my while and see how this plays out. If you don't mind, Tae?"

Taehyung's eyes flicker between the both of you. "I don't have a problem with that. Having you here might be more relaxing, don't you think?"

You resist the urge to bite on your bottom lip. Relaxing. Right. Hoseok moves to quickly change the backdrop behind you; the image is that of an ocean, calm, peaceful, and absolutely gorgeous. You squint as Jungkook begins to blind you with the reflector.

"Okay. It's a summer day, very hot, but not as hot as you," Tae says, quirking an eyebrow up at you from behind the camera. "Compete with the sun for me."

What.

You swallow, staring into the camera like a deer caught in headlights, your body stiff as a board.  The shutter sounds off only once before he shakes his head very lightly, a laugh escaping his lips. Namjoon brings a hand to cover his mouth as he manspreads and leans back.

"Ah, Jimin. Look at Jimin," Tae instructs, pointing to the blonde man close enough to touch, but far enough to keep out of frame.

Jimin sighs dramatically and cranes his neck towards the ceiling, looking up and blinking a few times. He angles off his body just enough to create a flattering view, balancing his casual stance with relaxed, broad shoulders. Oh right, he's a professional. You try to copy his stance, and do so perfectly, but you forget what you're supposed to do with your face. You steal a look back at him, almost immediately falling victim to his angelic features. 

Your heart aches when you think about the way you left things last weekend. He seems unbothered but you wonder how; Joon had explained that he was used to keeping things casual, but you sure as hell weren't and that's why you needed to keep that sort of thing off limits. Saturday night was a big faux pas and you couldn't feel more ashamed about it if you tried. Yet somehow you head still found a way to be smitten.

The shutter clicks again and you look over at Jimin, who is already modifying his pose. You continue mimicking him for some time, slowly increasing pace every time the shutter clicks. It starts to come more naturally and you feel yourself opening up. Jimin drops his outer shirt down, revealing a bit of his shoulder and without thinking you do the same, exposing the bathing suit underneath. You look over at Jimin, feeling slightly embarrassed at the display, but he just laughs and drops the fabric from his other shoulder. You continue to mirror his actions until you finally slip the shirt off completely and toss it Namjoon's way, covering his face briefly before he pulls it down while sporting a coy smirk.

An hour passes as you continue on with Jungkook coordinating your outfits, Jimin helping you pose, and Hoseok creating ambiance while Taehyung does all the shot calling with his camera. Namjoon is your cheerleader, offering words of encouragement with each new scene. Honestly the weirdest thing about the night is that it starts progressing smoothly and you almost feel comfortable in front of the lens now. That is, until you’re standing in the dress Hoseok pulled from your closet.

They’ve turned most of the lights off to create a candlelight effect. The warm glow of the remaining lamps barely kisses your skin and you’re thankful for the loss in heat, as well as the cover of darkness. Whatever confidence you’ve built up quickly diminishes as you catch Namjoon’s expression off to the side. His jaw is tight, screwing into a lopsided grimace; it’s hard to read the rest of his face in this light, but it certainly looks like a cross between sympathy and disgust. It could just be your brain filling in the gaps with nonsense, but you hug your elbows close to your chest and shrink back, finding a spot on the floor to stare at while the rest of them continue to tweak the scene.

This is for sure the most beautiful he’s ever seen you; there’s no way you could look more breathtaking, yet there’s something hidden just beneath the surface of your beauty. Namjoon swallows hard, watching your hesitant movements. You’re uncomfortable; it’s hard to miss the uncertainty of your posture, the shaky exhales, trembling fingers, subtle quiver of your lip. 

Okay, so maybe he searches for these things, but reading your body language has become a pastime. He’s not sure if it’s more for your benefit or his own masochistic torture --reading into every little detail to assure himself there’s no way you can feel the way he does-- but either way he can’t seem to stop himself from doing it. 

He’s thinking of ways to assuage the anxiety, but a heavy fog blurs the possibilities. The words become scrambled on their way to his lips as he looks you over again, and again, and again. Desire clouds his mind, moving in like a storm to coat every last thought with obscenities. His cock twitches against his thigh, already rock hard and aching to be touched. He stares blankly ahead as he crosses his legs and hunches forward onto an elbow, trying to will away the tent in his pants by silently reciting the alphabet. 

He’s absolutely disgusted with himself for being so lewd when clearly you’re in need of some support and he clenches his jaw in frustration. There’s no way he can stand right now without drawing attention to it, so the best thing he can do is try to compose himself and keep it that way. As he nears the end of the alphabet, he finally notices the way your gaze is cast at the floor and feels the need to say something, anything.

“Geeksquad.”

Your head snaps up to find Namjoon’s eyes locked onto your face, hard expression softening. “You look amazing. Try to breathe, okay? You’re doing fine.”

Your face brightens as you crack a smile, grateful for the reassurance. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, Joonie.”

He smiles back, dimples forming in his cheeks as he folds his hands over his lap. You fail to realize he’s equally happy about the lighting conditions in this moment.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The makeup is being stingy about coming off. You’ve been scrubbing remnants of eyeshadow and mascara off your eyelids for the better part of five minutes. A toothbrush lazily hangs from your mouth as you toss the makeup-caked pad in the trash bin. As you resume brushing your teeth, you pick up your phone with your free hand and begin texting.

You: hey… so

You: i may have overreacted earlier when i asked u to save me 🤔

You: but you still came through for me and i do appreciate it

When no response comes, you decide to come out and say what’s on your mind. You’d like to cut through any residual awkwardness left over from the nip slip incident because god knows it’s all that’s been on your mind since donning your regular clothes. As long as you can both pretend like nothing happened, you’re good.

You: i guess what i’m trying to say is thanks

You: it was nice that you made an attempt

You’re concerned about the amount of time that passes in silence as you finish up. You watched Hoseok drop him off at his apartment before returning home yourselves, so you know he got there safely. It’s only nine thirty. You doubt he’s asleep so you’re about to call, but you reconsider once you remember he’s had a lot of papers to grade this week and could be catching up on extra sleep. Or he’s avoiding you.

Your belly twists with the turmoil suffocating your brain. Do you just send something asking him if things are okay between you? It’s really awkward, but you can’t stop thinking about the fact that you accidentally flashed him. He’s probably avoiding you. Well fuck it.

You: are u avoiding me Namjoonie????

You: pls don’t :c

You sigh, falling back into bed as you open Tinder. What’s on the swipeLeft radar for tonight? A  blue star appears, telling you this person “super-liked” you; he’s an average looking guy, but once sentence into the profile tells you all you’d need to know about his shitty personality. Douche. 

You swipe left on a few more guys either holding fish, didn’t fill out their profile, or only have pictures of their current vacation destinations. There’s so much trash to sift through; it’s disheartening. Maybe Hoseok’s plan really will work and you’ll have guys eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. Maybe even eating you out. You’d have to find a viable candidate first, either way.

Your phone starts buzzing, familiar cross-eyed photo of Namjoon taking up your screen. Quickly swiping the green button, you answer, “Hello?”

“Geeksquad… Why you being paranoid?” Ragged breaths seep through his words just enough to pique your interest.

“Are you okay?” you ask, not entirely meaning to deflect, but still grateful for the opportunity to do so. “You sound a little out of breath.”

“Oh,” he sighs loudly, trying his best to reduce the sound of any following exhales. “Sorry I’m… just uh, working out.”

“You,” you begin in an accusatory tone. “...Working out?”

“It’s a great stress reliever,” he points out defensively. “Anyway, I’m just calling so you won’t worry yourself to sleep.”

“Wow. What? Pshh. I wasn’t worried, like, at all, dude.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah…” you answer, hearing the insincerity in your own tone. “I was just making sure you weren’t too mad about the false alarm.”

He chuckles. “Look, I’ll say it now and any time you need me to repeat it: I’m always gonna be there for you when I can. I wasn’t doing anything important tonight anyway and the uber ride was hella cheap from my place to Tae’s. Plus… I got to see you model next to Jimin, which was hilarious by the way.”

“Har. Har. Har. I got completely blindsided by Hobi and Tae. Super hilarious. Especially considering I haven’t spoken to Jimin really since Saturday. You know. When I made him think we were gonna hook up and then just peaced out. Like a bitch.”

“He’s not going to hold it against you. You know that.”

“Yeah.” You hum a sound of discontent as you fix your gaze on the ceiling. “Hey Joonie? Do you think those photos are going to look okay?”

“I think Tae can pull out some decent ones. He has an eye for that kinda thing. Once you started smiling for real and let go of that fake shit, I think those were the money shots.”

You can’t help but smirk at his words. “Good. I’m anxious about it still, but I feel slightly better.”

“Glad to help. Is there anything else?”

“Um….” You bite your lip, tasting the remnants lip balm. “W-We’re good right? I mean...about that whole thing with Kookie in the hall.”

Namjoon clicks his tongue against the receiver. “Ah, I hadn’t even thought about it all that much. But I suppose we need to address it.”

“Do you think you can pretend like it didn’t happen?”

“Like what didn’t happen?” he asks lightheartedly. 

You fail to catch on and you grind your teeth together before hissing, “The nip slip!”

He fumbles with his words on the other line. “I-uh,Ah, yeah-Hmm. I know. I was, uh… making a joke Y/N.”

“Oh.” You breathe a sigh of relief, while filling with embarrassment. You force the words out of your mouth at torpedo speed “Well... I think that’s all we need to talk about.  I need to go to bed. Thanks, Namjoonie. You have a good night.”

“You... too.”

“And remember to forget!” You want to die as the words pass your lips. 

You wish the mattress would swallow you as your head falls against the pillows.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you hang up, Namjoon sits back against his chair and stares down at the exposed swollen head of his cock, already dripping with precum and ready to continue where he left off.

“No worries… Hadn’t even thought about it at all.”

[bohemiansweede]

Baby it's cold outside

Fanfic

Pairing Roger Taylor Brian May Maylor

Warnings Smut 🔞

A /N Brians POV

Please like and reblog or if you want leave a comment

Thank you

~~~~~~🎄 ~~~~~~

It had start to snow like crazy now and we were not even half way home

The two of us had been Christmas shopping for our wifes and kids all day and Roger gaved me a ride home

- Fuckin shit... Cannot see a damn thing here, Roger shouted and tried to remove the snow with the windshield wipers

- Yeah.. Your eyesight is really not the best Rog, I scoffed

- Honestly Bri..

He started to get even more frustrated and the car slid on the road

- Roger.. Take it easy.. do not drive so fast in this weather.. I patted on his knee and his eyes trailed for a breaf second from the road

- You want me to take over?

- You? Driving MY car? No no no... No way..

It was a real blizzard outside now and on top of that it was soon dark

- C'mon Roger.. It is dangerous o..

I could not end the sentence until we were of the road, Roger tried to manouver it, but it was too late, the car stopped just on the side of a big tree

- Oh shit.. Damn it.. I took my palm over your forehead. It was a slight bleading

- Brian, are you ok?

- Y.. Yes.. I am fine.. Just a little scratch..

- Ohh fuck. M so sorry mate.. I..

- It is ok Rog.. Really... But we gotta stop driving .. It might calm down soon tho

I looked outside.. It was hard to see but..

- Hey, look, it is a big house over there they might have a phone.. I have 0% battery

- Even if you had charged it Bri, there is no connection out here.. Damn it.. Sarina is very impatient.. She has to know my every move..

- Anitha is on her theater rehersal so.. I guess she is prob not missing me.. Hey.. Let us check that house out ok?

We went out in the snowstorm and i almost slipped on the pathroad up to the big house

- Wow.. We are lucky Rog.. It is a little hotel

We opened the big door and went inside

The lobby was warm, cozy and fully christmas decorated 

- Good evening gentlemen. How may I help you

- Evening mam, we wonder if we could use your phone?

-I am so sorry Sir the landline is out due to the weather conditions

- Ohh fuckin dammit ... Perfect

- Relax Rog.. Have you heard the forecasts mam?

- They think this will go on all night.. Neither of us can get home either, we all have to stay here..

It smelled delicious from the restaurant and it was warm.. cozy..

- Guess we have no choice but to stay here Rog.

Roger rolled his eyes

- Let's see. We have 1..double left

- What do you say? Roger?. Sorry.. He is a little upset.. Yes we take it. Thank you mam

While I did all booking and got the key, Roger had already left to the bar

He sat alone on a stol swirled his glass and stared blank in front of himself

- Do you want to eat anything Rog?... or are you just drinking now?

- It is just so fuckin typical.. We had a huge fight yesterday.. One of many lately. Thought I was suppose to get home and fix it.. Instead I end up here in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

-.. With me...

- Oh Brian.. Sorry.. His eyes trailed on you while taken down his scotch.. Don't get me wrong but..

- I get it.. We are not suppose to be here.. but there is nothing we can do right now so... Just let us grab a meal and go to bed ahlright

He smirked a little, nodded, placed his empty glass on the bar and got up

The restaurant was pretty crowded But we managed to get a table little off side

- Mmmmm.. The salmon looks good. What are you havin?

- Not hungry

- C'mon.. You WILL be if you not..

- Yes Daddy..

It suddenly became awkward and quiet while he looked on the menu

I sipped on my guiniess and Roger ordered both yet an other scotch and a bottle of wine

His juicy steak looked amazingly good and I almost regreted to be that strict about food

- Looks good Rog..

- Yes it was really really great..

- Sooo... You are feeling better now?

Roger tapped with nervous fingers on the table..

- Well... Not entirely until I can speak to her..

- I understand, you two really love eachother right?

He did not answer.. Instead he waived to the waitress to come over with the bill

- So with that I asume you not wanting anything else?

He just shooked his head

On the way out from the restaurant he passed the bar

- You want one Brian? I can get really drunk now and regret it tomorrow..

Your head spun really fast

- Sure.. I can have... Well.. one more.. I want to think clear, but you knew you couldn’t

I grabbed my glasses and brought them to the open fireplace

We both sat down in the sofa and stared into the fire

- Bri.. I am sorry for being so grumpy.. I am just worried I guess

When Roger drank a lot he was very emotional.. anger, happiness, frustration, sadess,... guilt..

He had been my best friend for long over 40 years now and I knew him inside and out

I almost knew him more than I knew my own feelings.. With other words, I was honest to him, but not to myself

- Yes I know Rog.. But as I said.. there is not that much we can do.... the weather..

- Actually.. There is a lot we can do.

Our eyes locked and we both knew...

He placed his empty glass on the table in front of me, standing up from the couth, I emptied mine quickly

Without a single word we walked upstairs to our room, he fibbled with the room key and he muttered something about not being that drunk

He threw his jacket on the floor and tossed his shoes off, I unbottoned my shirt while looking at him doing the same

We both unbuckled our belts and the pants fell to the floor

I stod on the middle of the floor in just my underwear

Our bodies had changed over the years but I never lost my feeling about how good he looked, his hair was grey now but his eyes were soo big blue as ever and now I could see him looking at me up and down

We slowly walked towards eachother

It was silent, I just heard my own heart pounding in my chest

- I want to kiss you Brian May, Roger claimed, almost in a whisper. My eyes widened.. but don’t be mistaken…. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the very first time I met you, he carried on.. In fact, I….

I cupped his beautiful face in my hands and kissed him.. Just a little kiss.. I backed out a little from him 

- Rog.. I.. I want this soooo bad I've alw..

Our lips crashed together with a loud moan his big hands trailed up along my back and in my unruly hair

Both our tounges wrestled together and I phanted in his mouth, he let out a little whine

With a struggle my lips left his, instead i kissed down his neck his collarbone.. Kissed the tiny little birth mark he had there, they continued to wander down his chest and down his belly, it was warm and soft like i always had imagined

I placed my hand on his bulge, mouth was watering, he helped me take his boxers off and his leaking cock sprung free

Not waisting any more time i quickly grabbed it in my hand and begun to pump him

I licked the tip with an eager tounge.. Roger growled and almost lost his balance of the feeling he had been hiding for so long.

My tounge licked his prominent vein and soon I finally closed my lips around him, almost swollowed him whole

- Shit... Shit.. Shit Br.. Brian

He whimpered and his eyes were wide and dark with lust

I bobbed my head faster and with tearing eyes I looked up on him, it was not long until his cock started to twitch

-OMFG.. Brian... I am ssso close..

I stopped and tried to stand up on my old legs

They weakened under me

- Lay down on the bed Brian... Let me take care of you

I managed to the bed and laid flat on my tummy

I felt him behind me , Roger kissed my neck and shoulders taking his big caloused palms caressing my ass

- I.. I have been thinkin about this so long... Cannot fuckin wait any longer..

I nodded and felt a lump in my throat... he felt the same

He wetened his finger by his own saliva and i felt his fingertip in my entrance

I whimpered and bucked my ass up at him, he started to stretch me out with his finger, slowly but soon i could not take it anymore

He grabbed my hips, lifting me up a little bit and placed a pillow underneath me

I could feel his cock slowly entering me and with a scream i took the other pillow trying to muffle myself

- Nno.. No Bri.. I wanna hear you

- F.. Fuck Roger.. biting my plump lip.. Oh shit... I.. Ahhh

His one hand grabbed the headboard and he thrusted faster and faster rubbing my prostate over and over again, my body was a trembeling mess and soon my tight hole maked him so close to the edge

Both of us screamed with lust and guilt

- Omg... Brian.. Shit.. I am coming.. Ahhh fuck..

Roger pulled out and just a brief second later I felt his warm cum all over my lower back

He was fast and grabbed my hips so I turned around, i felt totally helpless in his power

His mouth lowered down on me and he took my cock in his pretty mouth, started to bob his head fast, I grabbed his silver hair and bucked my hips up towards him

With a loud cry i came, it spilled over in his mouth and ran down his neck

He went out of bed and into the bathroom..

I looked outside, it had stopped to snow and my stomach burned with angst and guilt

Ok.. This was it.. Whatever it was. It was over.. It had to be

He returned to the bed, landed on his back next to me, wiped my back with the damp cloth

He looked at me and kissed my bruised forehead

- I love you Brian... Always have.. Always will...

He turned off his phone and layed back on my arm, our legs lingered together

This had changed everything

And I finally smiled to myself

~~~~~~🎄 ~~~~~~~

Enjoy more reading in my masterlist

Xmas fics

Updated

https://bohemiansweede.tumblr.com/post/638489349922635776/fanfic

[motherofwoofers]

I’d Rather Be Hibernating Ch. 8

By the time Luka came to in his bed, the sounds of the city around him were already filtering in through the window. It was likely it had been at least two days, but he couldn't be sure. His face was half buried in his pillow, and he could tell only one boot had been pulled off. There was also an uncomfortable pressure below his navel… the jeans. Luka let out a groan, then rolled over.

The bright sun light streaming in from his window made him hiss, before he yanked the covers back up. Why was he awake again?

After a prolonged moment, where he may or may not have passed out again, he ran a hand over his face, before letting it drift down to his chest. Something tangled and tugged at his fingers, he toyed with it for a moment, then pulled the blanket back with his free hand. The light was blinding once more as he brought his hand up to inspect. A long dark strand of hair had gotten caught.

A smile broke across his face.

The other night flashing across his mind. The tangled limbs. Her warm body. *Taking his pants off.* Luka groaned again in embarrassment.

But then the reason for them being in that shared bed crossed his mind. And the smile faded.

The screams. The cracking of bones.

He let out a pained gasp.

Luka had seen a lot as a hero. More than he had ever wanted to see in his life. In a hundred lives. This last battle had shaken him, though. Shaken him down to his very core.

He gripped his shirt over his heart tightly. His heart beat solidly under his palm, even if it felt like it should be broken by now. The hair still twined within his fingers calmed him. If only a little. She was still alive. Still alive because *he* had been enough. He had figured out how to stop the latest Akuma.

Luka wondered how many close calls in the future they would face. A thought he quickly pushed away, before he rolled to his side. He let his feet settle on the ground, the left foot still laced and booted. He tugged at the laces as he began scanning the room for his phone.

Once he had managed to kick it off, he leaned down and snatched his jacket off the ground. The cold phone was tucked into his pocket, though it was usually hidden away in his hoodie. He went to swipe at the screen but nothing happened. Luka held down the power button, only to be greeted with a dead battery sign.

"Phenomenal." A quiet shuffling happened under his bed, before the end of his charging cord poked out. "Thank you, Sass."

"Of coursssse," and then shuffling once more as Sass found a warm spot near the power strip hidden under the bed, to settle again. Luka plugged the cord in and waited for it to reboot. Scrubbing at his face, he opened the top drawer of his night stand and pulled out a small pouch. He cleared some room from the top of the stand then unzipped the bag and pulled out its contents.

It had taken quite some time to find something to help manage the stress. The crippling anxiety and depression at times. Therapy was too difficult with his alter ego. And his mother had raised him wary of pharmaceutical drugs. Even if Juleka managed well with them, but she also wasn't a permanent Miraculous wielder. So when Anarka had sailed for the Netherlands soon after the fall of Hawkmoth, he had gone with to enjoy the short trip. To enjoy the potential normal future ahead of him. A celebration of freedom from terrorism.

It was also when she had taken him around to a few of her favorite coffeeshops. And from there on he had found a coping method. One only a few knew of, just in case. But it helped take the edge off.

Pulling a small piece of greenery from the bottle, he pushed it into the bowl of his small pipe, before lighting it, and inhaling. Covering the still smoking contents with the butt end of his lighter, while he held the smoke in, and leaned over to check his phone. He let it out as he swiped the screen open and saw the alarming amount of notifications. He opened the message from his boss at the local music shoppe where he taught aspiring musicians. It was a nice in between job, while Jagged was taking an extended break between performances. He was pushing for Luka to be his opener on the next tour. But he hadn't agreed to it yet.

Luka took another hit, finishing off the small amount he had packed, and set the glass pipe and lighter down. Then read the message.

LUIS: WE'RE CLOSED TIL MONDAY. DON'T WORRY ABOUT COMING IN.

Double checking the current date, he sent out a thumbs up to his boss, before letting out the last of the smoke. He'd been passed out for two days and thankfully it was only Saturday morning. A few more notifications from social media, and an unending amount of texts from Juleka and Rose. He sent the latter a reassuring message that he would stop by their place soon. A smiling emoji immediately popped up on the screen.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, grossed out with multiple days worth of film and now cotton mouth. But he was too worn out to get up and deal with it yet. The Akuma Alert app was graciously quiet, and he took the opportunity to scroll through his other less urgent messages. Including the source of the dark hair he continued to twine through his fingers.

Marinette hadn't messaged him since the day of the attack, and he grinned. She was likely in a deep sleep curled up in her bed, buried beneath an excessive amount of blankets. He sent over a *good morning* text.

Then he stretched and stood, peeling a sweat soaked shirt from his body. He answered the deep growl in his stomach with a hardened left over piece of pizza from the fridge, before nearly tripping over himself as the notification strum of his phone went off. Her name popped up on his screen and he could feel his heart jump into his throat.

M: MORNING 💓

Luka inhaled the rest of the pizza as he typed out an immediate response.

L: THAWED OUT ALREADY?

M: NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST M: MAMAN MADE ME GET UP TO EAT

L: THE WORST L: SHE SHOULD JUST LET YOU WASTE AWAY

M: 😝

He grinned as he pulled the phone to himself and collapsed against the head of his bed.

L: TELL YOUR MAMAN THAT IM WASTING AWAY

M: NOOOOO M: SHE WILL BRING THE WHOLE BAKERY! M: BESIDES…

He waited as the ellipses kept appearing then disappearing on the screen. But the next message never came.

L: BESIDES?

M: YOU COULD JUST COME TO THE BAKERY INSTEAD

A large smile crossed his face, and he was about to respond when her face popped up on his screen requesting to video call. In a bit of a panic he swept up the contents of his nightstand into the bag quickly, then tousled his hair a bit before answering.

"Hey," a soft sleepy voice greeted him. Marinette's hair was already thrown up in a messy bun for the day and she was propped up in bed swaddled in a fuzzy pink and white blanket.

"Hey there sleepy head," he grinned.

"Look who's talking!"

"I messaged you first," he leaned back against his bed frame again, stretching an arm out behind his head. A deep red blush crossed her face and whatever she had been about to say was derailed into a stuttering mess. After a quick thought, he realized he was still shirtless, and the span of his torso was in the shot. A smirk crossed his lips as he watched her squirm.

"Where's your shirt?" She eventually managed to squeak out.

"On the floor. It seems I keep losing my clothes around you." He let his voice drop a hair into a deeper tone, thoroughly enjoying the returning flush to her face. "First my pants. Then my jacket. And now my shirt. I don't have much left."

"You made me keep your jacket!"

"But you asked me to take my jeans off."

"That's because you were uncomfortable!"

"I could've slept just fine with them on," he grinned at her. The same devil may care grin he saved almost exclusively for her.

"Lies!" She shrieked on the other end. He ended up dissolving into laughter as she sat back and folded her arms. The worn out black of his hoodie sleeves fully enveloped her, hiding her hands from sight, as she propped the phone against her knees he assumed. The sight of her still in his jacket made his heart do a small flip.

Luka propped his own phone up against the portable speaker on his night stand and pulled up his Mustang, before settling into a new position. Leg crossed with the body gently propped against him. He quietly picked at the strings and adjusted the tuning as she fiddled with her hair on the other end.

"What are your plans for the day?" Marinette pulled the sticks from her hair and let it cascade down in a tumbled mess. It took Luka a moment to respond. He hid his reaction well, he thought, by returning to his gaze to his guitar. Picking out a gentle tune on the electric, even though it wasn't the same as his acoustic.

"I need to see Jules before she murders me," he grinned, giving her his attention once more. A small giggle greeted him.

"She didn't sound happy the other night."

"No. No, she was not." He laughed, transfixed as she smiled at him. Blue eyes shining even in the dimness of her room and sleepiness still visible in her every move. "She seemed more interested in your virtue though, than my own health."

"Oh, that's right. You slept on the couch as I recall."

"Fully clothed too." A bright laugh escaped her as she covered her mouth with his jacket. "I wonder if she'll believe me when I show up without my hoodie when I go over later."

"If you survive long enough for her to ask."

"That's true," he chuckled and looked back to his guitar. "If she asks I'll just say it looked better on you anyways." He watched a sweet smile cross her lips, but she quickly looked away as someone called her name off screen.

"Oh that's Maman now, she's brought me more soup," she made a face of exasperation, but quickly changed it.

"I'd gladly eat that for you," he teased.

"Shhh! Don't say that!"

"Marinette, who is that? Luka? Does he not have food? Tell him to come over, sweetheart! I'm making dumplings for dinner," Sabine's motherly voice came out slightly hushed from his phone.

"Mama! Luka is going over to Juleka's," she exclaimed, before accepting a tray with a roll and a deep bowl.

"Oh. Well there should be plenty of leftovers if he changes his mind, dear. Tell him I said hello. Do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you, Mama. I'll let him know."

Luka waited until Marinette turned back to him, her spoon dipping into the bowl.

"I might need to come try the famous Dupain-Cheng dumplings," he grinned.

"Only if you put a shirt on first."

"Why? Do you think your Maman would be upset if I didn't?"

"No," she drank a spoonful of broth before continuing. "She would probably fuss and find you something to wear. But, I'd be upset."

"Oh?"

"I don't feel like sharing," a coy smile crossed her face, and she lifted an eyebrow as she spooned another drink into her mouth. He couldn't help but bite his lip.

"I'll be sure to wear a shirt then," he grinned before adding, "then you can ask me to take it off again." The resulting tomato red blush on her face made it all worth it.

A guitar strum and then a message bubble popped up on his screen.

JULES: WHERE ARE YOU?!

Strum.

JULES: ROSE SAID YOU WERE ON YOUR WAY 30 MINUTES AGO

"Jules is growing impatient." He sighed, setting the guitar on his bed.

"Good luck. Make sure she doesn't murder you too much. I might need some warming up later."

"Send me all your luck, then. I'd hate for you to freeze," he, unplugged his phone and carried it around as he pulled out a clean shirt from his dresser.

"I may need to find another source of heat." Another coy smile.

"Now how am I supposed to get anything done, with you suggesting something like that." He took the opportunity to tug his shirt on, and missed the message that accompanied another strum. But the frown on her face was enough to know that she had gotten an alert as well.

"Where is it?" He asked quietly.

"Near Pont Royal," she ground out. "Rena Rouge is on the scene already."

"Guess, Jules will have to wait."

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART FIVE

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T (Swearing)

Word Count: 5600+

Description: Dr. Holland loses her first patient, and Ethan loses a friend. Dolores’ Chapter in mostly Ethan’s point of view. 

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: This part is about the devastating chapter on Dolores. I actually cried when first reading it, but I wanted to think about it in Ethan’s point of view. It is a long one, but I didn’t really want to break it up. As always, if you wish to be tagged in future updates you can reply or DM me! Thank you so much to everyone for the likes, reblogs and replies <3

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes374 @professorortegasstudent@mindlessdreaminxo @mayar-mahdy @paisleylovergirl @nicquix 

Previous Updates: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four 

PART FIVE

“So, what’s up with you and Dr. Emery?”

Ethan’s blue eyes darted to hers —  a sharp look on his face. He didn’t answer her, looking back to the road in front of him.

Jordynne chewed her lip, “I saw you together earlier. It looked… intimate.”

Ethan let out a loud sigh. Of course, someone saw him and Harper when she had pulled him into room 515. He cut off his thought process, realizing he still hadn’t spoken. “I don’t like advertising my private life at work.”

She shrugged, glancing over at him, “I’m just trying to figure out the politics of this place if I’m gonna survive here.”

He stared at her out of the corner of his eye -- he believed her. “In that case… we were an item. And then only on again, off again.”

“Oh,” Jordynne said, tugging her cardigan sleeves over her wrists. “And now?”

“Off.” He blurted out, a bit more aggressively than he wanted. Her eyes widened at his tone. He spoke more gently this time, “As of last year, she’s my boss. Not that my personal life is any of your business.”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “My lips are sealed.”

He looked at her, their eyes meeting. He really believed her — Why? He had no idea. “Good.”

“ So you broke up because she became your boss? That’s it?”

Ethan licked his lips, thinking. “Yes. And no. It was complicated.”

A laugh escaped her lips, “I think most break-ups are complicated. At least mine was.” She knitted her fingers together. She seemed a little nervous all the sudden.

Curiosity took Ramsey over, “Recent?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, “Right before a moved here.” Her eyebrows furrowed.

He jumped to the conclusion, “Didn’t want to do the distance?”

She bit her lip, “More like didn’t want to be the boyfriend of the busy, ambitious doctor.”

Know you’re better than that idiot, Jordynne. He thought.

She readjusted in her seat, “Not that my personal life is any of your business.” She repeated him from earlier, causing Ramsey to flash a smile.

“My lips are sealed.” He winked, before looking back to the road.

She started playing with her fingers again, “So, did Dr. Banerji really quit?”

Ethan’s lids lowered a bit, his heart sinking. This is what he hadn’t wanted to talk about. “I was wondering when you’d get around to asking that.”

Her green eyes were big as she stared at him, “And? Did he?”

Ethan felt his heart go up into his throat about, as he thought about Naveen. “Yes,” was all he could muster.

Jordynne twisted in her seat, holding onto her seat belt so she could look at him better, “But that’s huge! Did he say why he was leaving?”

To go die on some damn island. He thought. But he swallowed, “That’s between him and the chief.”

“So you’re in charge of the diagnostics team now. That’s gotta be a lot of pressure.”

Could she read his mind? Did she know every single topic that would cause his mind to go berserk?

Licking his lips, he decided to be honest with her. “More than you can imagine. Naveen built that team from his own blood, sweat, and tears. I can’t let him down now that he’s moved on.”

“Is that what you want?”

It was such a simple question — but it wasn’t one he had been asked in years. Nothing that was happening was what he wanted. Just what he had to do.

He licked his lips again, “What I want is to confront the impossible mysteries of the human body and understand them.”

She stared at him with bewildered eyes, “Okay, but back here on Earth… Did you always want to lead a diagnostician team?”

He let out a breath, “The team gives me the opportunity to face the questions no one has answered, so in that respect, I suppose the answer is yes.”

Her green eyes studied him, analyzing him like one of her patients. “You know I’m actually surprised you were up for this rescue mission.”

A smile spread across his face, relieved at the change of topic away from Naveen. “You don’t think I want to spend my time searching for stuffed animals?”

She twisted her mouth, looking guilty, “I thought you’d think it was pointless. I mean it’s just a stuffed frog right?”

His eyebrows furrowed and lips turned into a frown, “You think I’m just some emotionless machine, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, “Not entirely machine. Cyborg maybe? Dr. Terminator?”

Ethan barked out a laugh, “In that case, even a cyborg would cite the studies show how emotional attachment can play statistically significant roles in patient recovery.” He glanced over her, a smirk on his face, “So not even I, ‘Dr. Terminator’ think it’s just a toy.”

“And Dolores is a friend.” She smiled knowingly.

“She’s a patient first, while in our care. But yes,” He nodded, “She’s also a friend. If a stuffed animal will help her get through this, I’ll find her that damn frog.”

“I think you may be a softie at heart, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan scoffed, “Far from it. I’m practical.” Pulling over onto the side of the road, he turned off the engine. “And that’s enough prying for now. We’re here.”

Opening up the car door, Ethan stepped around the front of his Mercedes and grabbed the passenger door.

“Oh,” Jordynne said in surprise, ducking out from inside the car, “Thanks.”

The pair turned around together — taking in the orange flames burning the office complex. The rancid smell of burning plastic and plaster filled the air. Fire engines were parked in front, hoses spun out and water rushing out of them — trying to beat back the flames.

Ethan’s eyes widened as the sight — the flames reflecting back in his pupils, “We can search the perimeter, but if it fell from her purse in there…”

She grabbed onto his elbow, “Let’s hope it didn’t.”

The pair started searching side by side, looking around on the street — imagining where Rafael would have pulled up with the ambulance. Jordynne pulled out her iPhone, turning on the flashlight and scanning the dark road.

“Look, there in the storm drain.” Ethan pointed to it, bending over to get a better look.

Jordynne’s pink mouth opened in fear, “Oh, hell no! I am not going down there! Haven’t you seen ‘It’?

Ethan’s dark brows furrowed in confusion, “Seen what?”

“Never mind...,” She shook her head, her voice exasperated. “Well, you better lower me in. I’ll fall in headfirst if I try to reach it on my own, but not if you hang onto my hand.”

Ethan shrugged, “Sounds like it’s worth a shot.”

Handing her phone over to him, she knelt down onto the cold pavement. She started wriggling her top half into the storm drain, holding her hand out in the air for him. Standing over her, Ethan grabbed onto her fingers — they were warm and soft. She started rolling further into the dark storm gate, he bent down closer to her so she could see better.

Glancing down, he noticed her tan, bare legs peeking out from underneath her skirt and long cardigan — pressing down against the pavement. Gulping, he averted his gaze and tightened his hold on her hand, “Can you reach?”

“Al…most…,” He heard her voice strain, as she stretched a bit further. “Got it!”

At her words, Ethan used his strength to pull her back out effortlessly. She kneeled on the ground, pulling her skirt down before grabbing his outstretched hand again. He lifted her up back, brushing off her grey cardigan. She glanced down at his fingers wiping off the dirt on his shoulders, and he coughed awkwardly as he stopped.

“Well,” She showed him the wet stuffed frog, waving it in front of him. “Mission accomplished.”

Ramsey nodded sternly, “Excellent work. You can give Dolores the good news when we get back.”

The pair started heading back to his car, and Jordynne crinkled her nose at the stuffed animal. “After we sterilize this, of course. We wouldn’t want it anywhere near a pregnant woman, otherwise.”

He grimaced as the dirty stuffed animal made its way into his Mercedes. “My thoughts precisely. Come on, we still have some work to do.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The flashing lights on the television screen were making Ethan’s eyes tired. He wasn’t really watching, but the show was making Dolores laugh. He was sitting on a chair he had dragged in from the hall, his elbows resting on his knees.

Dolores’ head was resting on her pillow, laying on her side as she stroked her belly.

“Why do you like this garbage?” Ethan asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“It makes me laugh. It’s a feel-good show, Ethan.” She said, turning down the volume a bit, glancing over to him. “She’s good.”

The Rookie. Fiddling with his leather watch strap, he didn’t move his eyes away from it, “Who?”

She gave him a knowing look, “Doctor Holland. She’s pretty too.”

His blue eyes flashed to her, “Dolores.”

“What? She is.” A cheeky grin spread across her face, before turning into a line. “Besides, it’s been a year since Harper.”

He let out a breath, “I like being alone.”

“No, you don’t Ethan. I know I’m your patient, but you’re also my friend.” She met his eyes, her stare unwavering. “You wouldn’t be in here with me if you liked being alone.”

He gulped, “I—,”

A light knock on the window interrupted him. Jordynne had moved up some of the blinds, peeking through to get his attention. Ethan excused himself, going out into the hallway to meet her.

“Jordynne,” He greeted her, noticing the folder in her hands. “You get the labs?”

She didn’t say anything to him, her mouth in a hard line — she held the labs out for him.

Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed at her silence, and he grabbed the file from her. His blue eyes dashed over the results, and he felt his face fall. No, no, no…

Jordynne finally speaks, “She has serious preeclampsia.” Her eyes moved to his, filled with worry. "Her baby’s in trouble, isn’t it?”

Ethan rubbed the lines in his forehead, “Yes. Let’s go tell her.”

Turning on his heel, he headed back towards the door. When he didn’t hear footsteps following him, he turned back around to Holland. She was hesitating, biting her pink lip. “This is the job, Rookie. Come on.”

He held the door open for her before they shuffled in together. Dolores smiled at the pair, but it faded as she noticed how serious they both looked. “What is it? Ethan?”

Ethan didn’t look at her, instead turning to Jordynne. He nodded at her, trying to be encouraging.

He watched as she took a deep breath through her nose, before speaking, “Dolores, I don’t want you to worry —”

Her eyes flashed to Ethan, “That’s what people say when you should be worried.”

“Have you ever heard of preeclampsia?” She asked, but Dolores shook her head. “It’s a serious condition that affects up to one in ten pregnant women. In many cases, it’s manageable if monitored, but I’m afraid yours is quite serious.”

Dolores’ hands wrapped around her swollen belly protectively, “How serious?”

“The blood flow to the placenta is slowing. It could soon deprive your baby of vital nutrients and oxygen. “ Jordynne’s voice remained professional, unwavering. But Ethan could see her fingers trembling at her side.

Ethan stepped forward, grabbing onto the railings of the bed, “Your baby is at risk.”

Her eyes filled with panic, “But… everything feels fine! I can still feel the baby kicking!”

“Dolores,” He kept his voice soft, "This just means we’re going to have to deliver the baby early.”

Anger flared on her face, “No! It’s too soon!”

Jordynne stepped up next to Ethan, their shoulders almost touching, “Babies delivered at twenty-six weeks have a good chance of survival.”

The pregnant woman’s mouth opened in horror, “A… a chance?!”

Jordynne found her voice again, speaking up, “He’ll have to spend some time in the NICU, and yes, there’s a risk of post-birth complications—“

“And some don’t make it at all!” She moved her legs up, pulling herself into her swollen stomach — trying to protect her belly more. “Is my baby in danger now?”

“Not immediately, no. But —“ She cut Ethan off.

Her mouth set in a hard line, “Then my little tadpole is staying put.”

His blue eyes went big, he was pleading with her, “Dolores —“

“No, Ethan!” She shouted, tears welling in her eyes, “Just… give me a week. Give me as long as you can. Please.”

All emotion wiped from Ethan’s face, he crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ll give you tonight. To come to your senses.” He shook his head, disappointed. Stalking out of the room, he waited in the hallway for Jordynne to join him.

She closed the door softly behind them before she started playing with her blonde ponytail nervously — tightening and swirling it through her fingers. Finally, she let her green eyes meet Ramsey’s blue ones — both of their faces were filled with worry.

Jordynne broke the silence first, “I’ll keep checking on her. Maybe we can talk her around.”

Ethan croaked out, his voice low, “No. Just go home. Your shift’s been over for hours already.”

He knew she was studying the worry lines on his face, the dark circles that were starting to form under his eyes, “But…”

Shaking his head, he cut her off, “I’m taking over this case. You’re… not ready for it.”

The hurt that flashed across her face made his stomach twist. But Ethan needed to do this — this was his friend, this was his responsibility now. He wasn’t going to let it fall to her. Before she had time to talk back, he stalked away — his dress shoes sending echoing clicks down the silent hallway.

_______________________________________________________________________

The sky had long gone dark outside, the city lights ablaze in downtown Boston. Ethan stood in front of the large window on the fifth floor, chewing absent-mindedly on a dry, leftover sandwich from the cafeteria. A typical dinner for him once he realized he would be at the hospital all night. His leather couch in his office called for him, but he wanted to be available if Dolores’ changed her mind and she wanted to see him.

He had tried a couple hours after the Rookie and he had given her the diagnosis. But she had laid on her side — ignoring him completely. A nurse was giving him updates — she had started complaining about a headache and some nausea — but it could just be from the stress of her diagnosis. Or, even worse, her preeclampsia was already getting worse.

Rubbing his forward again, Ethan tried to massage the tension out of his forehead when he heard yelling from the down the hall. Without even thinking, his dinner dropped out of his hands and he began sprinting down the hallway. He watched as a nurse and Doctor Neilson ran into Dolores’ room — shouts echoing down the hall.

Ethan’s dress shoes slid on the white tiled floor as he turned into the room. The doctor and nurses were turning Dolores onto her side gently — speaking to her in low, calm voices. He didn’t say anything — his breathing hard as they watched them.

The attending finally spoke up, noticing Ethan. Her voice was fast but coherent. “Patient had a seizure… She started convulsing — I think she was trying to hide that her symptoms were getting worse — to put off delivery.”

Ethan’s heart started pounding in his ears, “We need to get her into the OR, right now for cesarean delivery.”

“Already on the way,” The attending placed her hand on his shoulder, backing him out of the room. “Dr. Ramsey, I know you know the patient, but you need to let us do this.”

Anger flared in him, “This is mine and Dr. Holland’s patient,” But he found himself pushed out of the room, making way for Dolores’ bed to be wheeled out into the hallway.

“I am not doing this with you. We are running out of time, Ramsey!” The attending mirrored his anger, grabbing onto the side of the bed — rushing her down the hall.

Rushing down the hall with him, his blue eyes were trained on Dolores. She was blinking lazily, obviously confused as she was hurled down the bright hallway. “Dolores,” Ethan spoke to her, trying to get her focus.

“Ethan…”, Her voice was a murmur in the hustle in the hallway — but he heard it.

“It’s going to be okay, Dolores.”

Dr. Neilson moved down to talk to her — speaking too low for Ethan to hear. They neared the swinging OR doors.

The on-call surgical team appeared through the doors, grabbing onto Dolores’ and ushering her inside. As he went to follow them through the doors, Doctor Neilson moved her hands up to block him. “No, you are not going anywhere near that OR.”

“Like hell I’m not,” He snarled, going to move past her.

“Dr. Ramsey! We have done what we can.” Her eyes softened at his, understanding his frustration. “Let the surgeons do their job now.”

Tightening his hands into a fist, Ethan’s knuckles turned white as he stalked away from her. He could feel his heart hammering through his chest now, his jaw clenched into a hard line. He stood for a moment, his eyes closed. Let her be okay. Not her too. Please.

“You’ve been here all day, Dr. Ramsey. If you’re going to wait, go find a seat. I’ll update your intern.”

My intern? My intern. Rookie. Ethan gulped — he didn’t think he could face her.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in that waiting room for. It wasn’t very often he was sitting on the opposite side of the doors — waiting for someone to walk out of the room. If he had been a better friend, called her more, seen her more often — he could have diagnosed her earlier, noticed the symptoms. It shouldn’t have come to this.

The sound of a door swinging open caused Ethan to flick his eye up from the white tiles to Dr. Neilson. He knew — from the moment he saw her face, he knew. His stomach dropped, his face immediately turning hot.

She gave him a sad look, standing over him with her arms at her sides. “Placental abruption,” She spoke to him scientifically — distancing herself from him. “There was too much bleeding to save the mother. The baby survived, for now, he’s in the NICU. Fifty percent chance he will make it through the night.”

“I know the odds.” He said coldly, not looking up to the attending.  

She chewed her lip, “I’m sorry Dr. Ramsey.” Turning on her heel, she stopped for a moment, “Go home. Sleep.” He heard the sound of her footsteps as she walked away from him — leaving him alone in the waiting room.

Putting his head in his hands, Ethan closed his eyes as he felt water starting to fill them. World-class diagnostician but can’t save your own friend. He ground his teeth together, angry at himself. First, Dolores. Next will be Naveen.

The clicking of high heels echoed throughout the empty room, but Ethan did not look up at the sound.

“Doctor Ramsey?” Jordynne’s voice was soft as she walked towards him. He didn’t look up. Why? Why did she have to come? She would make it so much harder.

“What happened? Where’s Dolores?” Her voice started wavering at his silence.

He didn’t answer for so long, that by the time he finally looked up at her, she had opened her pink mouth to speak again. But when they locked eyes, she closed her mouth — she knew. He didn’t have to really say.

Furrowing his brows, he finally spoke, “Dolores had a seizure. Full eclampsia.” Wringing his hands together, he swallowed hard, “We had no choice but to deliver the baby. It’s fifty-fifty he’ll survive the night."

Her green eyes were wide — her long lashes blinking fast. “And Dolores?”

“She died.” He croaked.

Jordynne’s eyes filled with tears. She seemed to lose her balance in her high-heeled boots as she stumbled back. Grabbing onto a chair, she steadied herself, “Dr. Ramsey, I’m so…”

Shaking his head, he cut her off, “I’m fine.” Standing up, he brushed the wrinkles out of his trousers before rolling his shoulders back — standing up straighter. He dropped the emotion from his face, before striding away — leaving Jordynne standing alone in the middle of the empty waiting room.

______________________________________________________________________

Closing her locker, Jordynne placed her head on the cool metal and let out a sigh.

It felt better being in her scrubs. She had raced to change out of her ridiculous mini dress and boots the second Doctor Ramsey had raced away from her. Heading to the mirror, she scrubbed off the makeup she had put on just a few hours before — her mascara running under her eyes with the tears she had been shedding. Her face was red from crying, and she had thrown her hair into a fast ponytail — she didn’t look like the professional doctor she was trying to become, but tonight she didn’t really care.

She checked her phone, realizing how many missed texts she had from her roommates and Bryce. She had left Bryce high and dry — running in her heels to the nearest subway to get to the hospital as fast as possible. Her thumbs quickly typed up a text, before she slipped it in her pocket and headed towards the NICU.

Jordynne carried the stuffed green frog in her hands as she walked, swinging it lightly. She had stopped in Dolores’ room on her way to the locker room — still empty of her bed. It sat on the side table, discarded in the chaos.

Entering the NICU, she weaved through a couple incubators until she same the familiar surname. New tears welled in her eyes and her chest tightened as she looked at the name tag — Ethan Hudson. A sob escaped Jordynne’s mouth, which she quickly covered.

“Can I help you?” An attending approached her, looking Jordynne up and down.

“This baby’s mother is my patient.” She grimaced — Was her patient. Past tense.

The attending nodded at her, realizing who she was.

Jordynne pointed at the name tag, a small smile forming on her face, “She got to name him?”

She pursed her lips, “She told me just as she was rushed to the OR.” The pair stared at the infant in silence for a moment, “The poor thing. We’ll know more in the morning.”

Eyeing the couch nearby, Jordynne asked, “Do you mind if I sit with him tonight?”

The attending eye’s filled with understanding, “Feel free.”

Holding up the stuffed frog, she chewed her lip,  “Can I give him this? His mother wanted him to have it. It’s been sterilized.”

“Go ahead.” The attending gave her a sad smile, before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Finding a box of gloves, Jordynne pulled them on quickly before placing the frog softly next to the baby, “Here you are, tadpole. Mommy’s still with you.” She smiled as he snuggled weakly next to it. Softly, she ran a finger over the baby’s tiny fist.

“What are you still doing here?”

Ethan’s voice was softer than usual — he sounded exhausted.  Jordynne looked up, her eyes meeting his blue ones. They were red and blurry, his coat and collar askew, arms hanging at his sides.

She swallowed, returning to stroking the tiny baby’s hand. "I’m going to stay with him tonight. I hate the idea of him having to fight for his life alone.”

Putting his hands in his pockets, he stepped forward — his eyes still locked on her, not looking at the baby. “There are plenty of doctors working overnight. If something happens, they’ll be here.”

She bit her pink lip, forcing back more tears, “I know.”

He nodded at her, understanding. Finally, he looked down at the baby, his expression gentler then Jordynne had ever seen it.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He asked sheepishly, his eyes big.

She stepped away from the incubator, pulling the gloves off. “Not at all.” She moved over to the love seat nearby, patting the spot next to her. “Plenty of room here.”

Ethan sat beside her on the couch, their knees almost touching in the close space. Jordynne breathed in at their touch — smelling his cologne -- sandalwood, and leather. Together, they sat in silence for a moment, listening to the gentle whoosh of the ventilator.

He broke the silence first, shifting his focus from the incubator to her. “You gave him the frog. Dolores would have been…,” His voice broke. “She would have been pleased.”

Jordynne blinked away tears, but a few slipped passed running down her tan cheek. She turned her face away from Ethan, trying to wipe them away quickly so he wouldn’t see.

But he still noticed. “Don’t Jordynne. I think we’re past hiding our tears from each other.” He croaked, tear stains visible on his cheeks in the bright light.

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes — relieved he hadn’t called her Rookie.

He knitted his fingers together on his lap, leaning back into the couch before speaking, “My first patient I lost… was in my fourth week. I didn’t make any mistakes. He had stage four metazoic melanoma. He just… fought like hell and lost. I liked him. He wasn’t much older than I am now. I knew he didn’t have long to live, but it still hit me hard.”  He glanced over at her, swallowing.

Her blurry green eyes stared at him, “Does it ever get easier?”

“Grieving a lost patient isn’t a weakness. Good doctors should value life. For itself.” His pupils shifted as he studied her face, “I’d be more concerned if you weren’t upset.”

She let out a breath, nodding at him. “You didn’t answer my question though.”

His eyes betrayed him, looking down for a moment. “No, I didn’t.” He took a deep breath before speaking again, “Just know… this wasn’t your fault. Or mine. Or Dolores’. We all made the best decisions we could with the information we had.”

Jordynne’s eyebrows furrowed, her voice wavering again. “But she trusted us. She was my patient. She put her life in my hands.” Water formed in her eyes, and she didn’t wipe them away this time. She felt the hot tears roll down her cheek.

“You’re right. Remember this, even when the patient is mean or stubborn. Their life is in your hands. That responsibility has to come first. Always.” His voice was serious but gentle.

Pulling at the seam in her scrubs nervously, Jordynne asked, “Why are you being so nice to me? You’re usually so…”

“Demanding?” Ethan finished for her, before starring into space. He couldn’t give her a straight answer to why. They had been through the whole day with Dolores together maybe. But it could be something more than that. “There are doctors with unlimited patience. I’m not one of them. Energy I could use socializing or making someone’s day better, I put towards my patients. They’re who I’m here for.”

“But you’re a teacher too.” She said honestly.

He raised his eyebrows in agreement, “One of many, and you shouldn’t model yourself after any of us.” Pinching the bridge of his nose he continued, “Idolatry among physicians is absurd. We’re here to teach you practical medicine. You need to find your own way of being a doctor.”

“But…,” She hesitated, swallowing hard, “How do I do that?”

A small, but genuine smile spread across Ethan’s face, “You already are.”

Suddenly, the baby made a small sound — stretching his tiny hands open and close. Standing up, Ethan grabbed some gloves, before offering his finger to the infant. As he grabbed onto his finger, a smile spread across Ethan’s face — his eyes shining with water again.

“She named him after you,” Jordynne said softly, gesturing to the name on the incubator.

His eyes flashed with surprise as he looked below him, to the name tag. She watched as he swallowed hard, chewing on his lip. “I… see she did.”

The stood together, hovering over the incubator — standing shoulder to shoulder. “You must have known Dolores a long time.”

“Over ten years. When I first emailed her I only meant to check in. But she was recently divorced, feeling alone, so she insisted on coffee. And then it turned into more emails and meeting once every couple months for Sunday roast.” He smiled, thinking about past dinners.

“She sounds like a good friend.”

He nodded in agreement, “I didn’t make friends easily when I started here, so I was always grateful to her for that.” He swallowed again, falling silent as he stared at Dolores’ baby.

Instinctually Jordynne reached over the incubator, putting her hand over his — still holding onto the baby. “I’m sorry this happened.”

Ethan looked up at her, his blue eyes shining. He held her gaze for a long moment, searching her green eyes. Their hands turning warm as they touched. “Me too.” He said his voice earnest.  

Jordynne felt her chest tighten for a moment, and she gulped.

Suddenly he cleared his throat, moving his hand out from underneath hers. “I think we need coffee.”

She shoved her hands into her scrubs pockets, “I can get some.”

He shook his head, putting out his hands, “No, I’ll go.” He gave her a half-smile, before leaving the NICU.

Returning to the leather love seat, Jordynne curled up into the corner of it — angling herself so she could watch the baby’s little chest. “That’s it, little tadpole. In and out.” She whispered to herself.

Ethan returned with two mugs of steaming coffee, handing one to Jordynne before sitting next to her. Her knee resting against his thigh, but he didn’t seem to mind. She took a careful sip, before grinning, ���This doesn’t taste like cafeteria coffee!” She whispered excitedly.

He grinned at her reaction, showing his perfect white teeth. “This is from my private coffee machine. As soon as I got an office, I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwater again. Nobody knows I have it, so…”

Smiling, she took another sip from the coffee, “I won’t tell a soul.”

His eyes crinkled, “I know.” He took another sig, before speaking again, “What was with your get up earlier?”

Jordynne flushed with embarrassment, “I went to a concert after my shift. To try and keep my mind off of here. I guess it was pretty different from my scrubs.”

Ethan licked his lips, eyeing her, “A little. Not that you don’t look good now.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I just meant,” He waved at himself — his coat and trouser long disheveled, his hair tousled from running his fingers throughout it nervously all night. “All things considered.”

She chuckled, self-consciously rubbing her tired skin and trying to flatten her ponytail. “You really need to work on your compliments there, Ramsey.”

A snicker escaped him, “I gotta work on a lot of things Jordynne.”

______________________________________________________________________

Ethan woke with a stir, his eyes flashing open in confusion at his surroundings. He was still in the NICU, the bright fluorescent lights causing him to blink. He went to move his right arm but he felt resistance. Glancing over, he saw Jordynne’s blonde head leaning against it — her eyes closed as she slept.

Darting his eyes around, he realized they were alone. He looked at the incubator, noticing the rise and fall of the infant’s chest. His heart swelled — he made it. Risking another glance, Ethan gulped as he studied her face. She looked so peaceful — her full lips pursed together, long lashes casting a shadow on her cheeks, her ponytail coming undone sending pieces falling wildly around her face.

A big part of him wanted to stay like this — let her use him as a pillow, keep leaning on each other like they had the night before. But he couldn’t, he shouldn’t.

Clearing his throat, he softly shook her arm with his other hand, “Jordynne… Jordynne, wake up.”

“Hmmm,” She blinked herself awake, before snapping her eyes open. “Uh, sorry!” She moved off of Ethan’s arm, smiling sheepishly.

She immediately stared at the incubator. As soon as she woke up, her eyes went to the incubator. “He made it!”

Ethan nodded, “He’s getting stronger.” She beamed at him, her eyes twinkling at the good news.

She glanced at her watch, before jumping up quickly, “Oh crap, I have rounds in twenty minutes. I need to get a shower.” Checking her pockets, she looked longingly at the incubator.

“I’ll sit with him a bit longer.” Ethan comforted her.

Jordynne nodded at him, pursing her lips. She grabbed onto the edge of the incubator, peering in on more time, “Hang in there little one.” She whispered to him, before turning on her heel.

He swallowed as she watched her leave, Do it. Do it now. “Jordynne?”

Her head whipped around her blonde ponytail swinging. She paused in the doorframe, holding onto it.

He rubbed his rough stubble, “Thank you.” His voice was sincere.

She met his eye, a small smile stretching her pink lips, “Of course.”

Ethan breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. He could smell her, her scent lingering on his coat from where she had slept on him. He chewed his lip, stopping himself from letting the pleasant noise out of his mouth. God, what had he gotten himself into.

Part Six