#Sterling Silver Buttons

[zegalba]

chrome hearts

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2011

3 JULY 2011 || The Duchess of Cambridge and Prince William at the Charlottetown Airport in the Prince Edward Island on the fourth day in Canada while on tour of North-America.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

--

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

-

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

-

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

-

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

-

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

-

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn���t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

-

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

--

masterpost

[eriebasin]

An antique Art Nouveau cigarette case in with unusual gargoyle imagery in repousse. Built in sterling silver with a gold bezeled ruby button to open the case. Made by Mikhail Yakovlevich Tarasov, a Russian jeweler. Weighs 7.6 ounces. 

eriebasin.com

[farity]

In the Red of Night

Pairing:  Modern!AU Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  Aemond likes coffee.  And sugar.  And other things.

Warnings:  Future smut.

He liked to think that after all this time, he was better than this.  

But as dawn began to tint the sky in purples and pinks, Aemond Targaryen looked down at his hands, stained with dried blood, and told himself the worst lies were the ones you told yourself.  

He stood, dusting off his black trousers, and headed back to his loft.  The sun had begun to peek over the taller buildings by the time he turned onto his street.  Despite myths and movies, sunlight wouldn’t burn him to ashes or make him sparkle.  It did feel a little warmer than he liked and after a few minutes, his skin would be the bright pink that a normal pale person got after a day at the beach with no sun cream or protection, but given the fact that he had pale skin, not to mention the silver white hair that made most people do double takes, it was generally understood that he preferred to be in the shade.

He nodded at the doorman, who never questioned his hours, and headed for the private elevator around the corner.  He pressed the button and the mechanism began its near silent whirr as it traveled up to the top floor.

Walking inside his front door, he began pulling off his shirt, throwing it into his bedroom hamper before he began unzipping his trousers.  His bed was neatly made, since he hadn’t slept in it the previous night, and he finished undressing before he walked into his bathroom.  

He let the cool water beat down on his head and back for a few minutes before he began scrubbing the blood off his skin.  There wasn’t a lot of it, as he had long ago learned to not make a mess when he indulged, but it reminded him that he needed to be careful.  His very appearance and physicality made him noticeable and he could not afford to stand out any more than he already did.

One of the many advantages of the modern world was the existence of coffee shops - he was addicted to the stuff.  He also didn’t want to bother making it himself, and most shops had a quiet corner or two where he could work and watch people, and he wouldn’t be bothered.  

He dressed in his usual greys and blacks, pulled a thin cashmere knit hat over his pale hair, and went downstairs.  There was a coffee shop across the street from his building, and he had been waiting for the new owner to finish the remodeling and updating, and it was, finally, open for business.  He’d waited for the initial rush to settle before he crossed the street and walked in. 

It reminded him of a favorite bar he’d frequented in Paris long ago.  The decor was timeless, with vases and objets d’art that were either priceless antiques or very good reproductions, set safely on high shelves.  There was soft music playing, not the obnoxious litany of mumbling boys that sounded like they were barely awake - the 90s had been particularly trying music-wise - but, again, he thought back to the beginning of the previous century and felt that this place would have looked right at home then.

Of course, it had the latest technology, from the cameras to the outlets to accommodate several devices at every table.  The pristine sterling steel machines kept up a steady stream of both coffee and a low hum of sound, and Aemond quickly found a corner where he could perch himself for the next couple of hours.  He set down his laptop, placed his hoodie over it, and headed over to the counter, where several people managed to dodge each other’s arms as they worked to serve their customers.  

There was a tempting array of cakes and pastries, and Aemond, who loved sugar almost as much as he loved a certain dark red liquid, immediately chose a chocolate cake with what looked like hazelnuts on top.  

“Eyeing the chocolate praline, are we?”

He looked up at the cheerful voice and his eyes landed on a pair of green eyes, crinkling at the corners, as they studied him. 

“Is it made in house?”

“Of course, that one is made by me, actually.  Chocolate hazelnut praline, it’s a popular one.  Some coffee along with your cake?”

He nodded.  “Black, whatever you think will go best with it, and seven sugars.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, “okay, then,” she smiled.  “please don’t damage the walls when you start bouncing off of them later.”

She turned to grab a plate and start brewing some coffee while he immediately began to think of all the ways he could damage the walls.  Most of them involved having her legs wrapped around him, and he blinked, pushing the thought away when she turned back to him.  

“Will there be anything else?”

“Hmm.  Not for now, I’ll be doing some work and probably get something else later.”

She nodded and rang up his purchase.  If she was impressed by the heavy, black-finish credit card he handed her, she gave no sign.  “I’ll bring it over in a minute.”  She smiled at him and turned to greet another customer.

* * * * * 

You’d seen him a couple of times before, during the last couple of weeks as you put the final touches on the coffee shop.  The hair, obviously, had caught your attention, and the fact that he was so tall.  He lived across the street and you hoped he’d become a regular, start building your little clientele, have your core group of customers as well as the more casual buyers.

He had a very, very nice ass, you thought, glancing discreetly as he walked away.  Lean and rangy, he had covered his hair today, and in his dark clothes blended in pretty well within the little corner he’d chosen.  You grabbed his coffee, a bowl with extra sugars, and his cake, and took it all over to his table.  “Here you are, let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled.  He had the most lovely shade of eyes, somewhere between dark blue and purple.

“Thank you, I will.”

You really wanted to stay and trace your fingertip over every sharp edge of that stunning face, the wide lips, the faded scar over his eye.  Instead, you turned back to your counter and your customers, and decided to later find out more about the sugar fiend who had just come in to your shop.

* * * * * 

TAG LISTS

All my fics

@arryn-nyx​   @  girlwith-thepearlearring    @greenowlfactif  @hydrationqueensworld    @megzdoodle   @melsunshine  @queenofshinigamis     @throughgoeshamilton   @travelingmypassion    @watercolorskyy

Aemond fics only

@hb8301   @kaemond-zafiro    @arcielee   @castellomargot   @m-indkiller   @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lunamoonbby

Thank you for reading, for your likes and reblogs, they all mean so much to me!!!

My Ko-fi

[draconisxcaput]

It Is Exceptionally Lovely Being Draco Malfoy

☆ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

☆ Word Count: 1757

☆ Summary: The moment you share together, snuggled between the bedsheets and wrapped up in each other’s early morning affections, is light and warm and everything Christmas morning is supposed to be

☆ Warnings: mentions of food (hot chocolate) alluded to pregnancy, reader and draco celebrate christmas

Soft flurries of snow are falling from the winter sky, dancing in the wind and landing delicately on the ground outside of the Malfoy’s apartment on Christmas morning. Draco wakes up gradually, the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair lulls him out of his slumber, and he turns his head towards you, grey eyes still droopy and a lazy smile pulling at his lips.

You giggle, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on his lips before you pull away, still stroking his silky locks and brushing them away from his face. “Merry Christmas, handsome.” 

Draco gives a content sigh, nuzzling into your embrace for a moment longer, and begins to pepper kisses up the expanse of your arm until he arrives at your cheek and whispers against the rosy skin, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

Your smile is beaming, and the moment you share together, snuggled between the bedsheets and wrapped up in each other’s early morning affections, is light and warm and everything Christmas morning is supposed to be.

Draco gets up first, rolling out of bed and shuffling around the room as he shrugs on a clean button-up. He looks over to you — his wife — who is still laying in bed, and sends a cheeky wink when he catches you watching him get dressed.

“Want me to wake him up?” He asks, still doing up the buttons on his shirt while giving you a knowing look.

Immediately, you groan, bringing your hands to your face, and fall back into the plush pillows behind you. “Yes please,” you mumble from behind your hands and peek between your fingers to see Draco laughing and walking over to your side of the bed before he leans down and presses another kiss to your head. You bring your hands down and cross them in front of your chest, staring at your husband with a pout on your lips. “He never makes a fuss with you, I don’t get it.”

Draco only laughs harder, pulling away with a smug grin on his face, and makes his way to the door. “I can’t help that he likes me better,” he says from the doorway with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He receives a whine in response, and he sends you one last smile before he leaves the room and walks down the hall in sock-clad feet. 

He’s quiet as he approaches the nursery, opening the door slowly, and padders over to the crib. He ducks his head under the mobile and is met with the sight of his sleepy little baby, blond hair askew at the top of his head and a tiny thumb sucked into his mouth. Draco wants to take a second to admire him, let him sleep peacefully for a little while longer; but it’s Christmas Day and there are presents underneath the tree, and he just can’t wait to spoil his favourite boy.

He brings his hand down, fingers gingerly brushing against the fabric of the infant’s pyjamas and tickling his tummy. A gurgle escapes from the back of his son’s throat before he wakes up, eyes fluttering open and little mouth parting to release his first cry of the day.

But then he sees Draco, baby blue eyes meeting sterling silver, and instead of crying, he lets out a happy squeal, kicking his feet under his blanket, and flashes his daddy a very gummy smile.

“Hey Scorp,” Draco grins down at him, scooping him up in the air and holding him out at arm’s length. 

Drool is already beginning to collect at Scorpius’s mouth as he continues to babble nonsense, and Draco takes the time to look him over, finally noticing the attire you had chosen to dress him in the previous night. “What in Salazar’s name was she thinking,” he grumbles, already walking towards the changing table with the baby still in his arms.

“Da!” Scorpius squirms in his hold, reaching out and making grabbing motions with his fists in an attempt to snuggle up against his father, but before he even gets close, Draco has him lying down on the table, a set of more appropriate jammies in his hand.

When he finishes changing the baby, he holds him up again, admiring his work, and then Scorpius is at it again, closing and reopening his fists and calling out to his father. “Dada! Dada!”

And it warms Draco’s heart really, how much Scorpius loves him. He wants to shower him in all of the love he never knew when he was a child, the love that only his wife, his soulmate could show him existed. Draco smiles warmly down at the babe once more, giving in to his insistent requests, and cradles his body against his chest, tucking his little blond head into his neck.

Walking out of the nursery is easy, Scorpius is quiet and content in his daddy’s embrace, and Draco holds him tightly as he makes his way to the family room where the fireplace is roaring, the Christmas lights are twinkling, and the crystal ornament shining in glittering letters of ‘baby’s first Christmas’ is hanging from the tree.

“What is he wearing?” You walk into the room, brows furrowed and holding two mugs of marshmallow hot chocolate in your hands as you take in your sleepy son, little arms and little legs all bundled up in a dark green onesie.

Draco cranes his neck to look down at Scorpius, and when he’s met with a very happy baby smiling back at him, he leans down to press little kisses to the crown of his head before he looks back at you and answers, simply, “Pyjamas.”

You scoff, bending down to put the mugs on the table, and come back up, eyes narrowed sceptically and hands resting on your hips. “What happened to the ones I dressed him in last night?”

“The red and gold ones?” Draco waves you off. “They were ghastly, surely you didn’t think I was going to let our son frolic around on Christmas morning dressed as a bloody Gryffindor.” 

“They weren’t Gryffindor related! They were festive!” You squeak, and Scorpius has taken to teething on the collar of Draco’s shirt.

“Well, these are festive too,“ he gestures to the green cotton onesie. “And if you ask me, I think the green suits him more anyways.” 

Scorpius makes a sound of agreement, humming around the fabric in his mouth, and your expression softens as you walk over to your little family, cupping your husband’s cheek and stroking his skin softly. “You’re very lucky I love you.” And then you’re pulling the baby out of Draco’s grasp, shushing him soothingly when he makes a wail of protest.

“I know my sweet boy, I know,” you cradle him just as Draco had been doing before, “It’s still early for you, I know, but it’s your first Christmas, and mummy and daddy have so many presents for you.”

There’s a pout resting on Draco’s lips as he watches you take the baby, and he chases after you, trailing behind like a lost puppy as you head toward the tree. “I hope you don’t plan on hogging him all day,” he plops down on the floor, right amongst the sea of gifts, “He’s my son too, you kn—“

You plant yourself right in his lap, snuggling into his chest and bouncing Scorpius in your arms. He goes soft immediately, his own arms snaking around your waist and peering over your shoulder to look at your little bundle of joy, giggling and squealing with delight. You lean back, angling your head to look up at him, “Better?” You ask.

He nods, agreeing, “Better,” and gives you a kiss on the cheek. 

It isn’t even an hour later when wrapping paper is littering the floor, new toys are flooding the room, and a bright green dragon, plush and bigger than Scorpius’ little body is clutched between his chubby hands. 

You’ve left the room, gone to fetch “just a little surprise” for Draco, who is currently lying on the floor, squeezing and tickling his son’s little clothed feet. When you come back in, you’re holding a small, lidded box, all wrapped up in a sparkling fennel bow. He takes it from you curiously, one of his fine brows arched as he looks back and forth between the small parcel in his hand and the woman standing across from him. 

“I thought we said no gifts…?”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you bring clasped hands up to your mouth to hide your excitement. “I know,” you say gently, “but this one didn’t cost a thing.”

And under any other circumstance, he’s sure he wouldn’t open it, too filled with pride to accept a present from his wife when he himself is empty-handed. But as you stare at him expectantly, eyes shining brighter than the star at the top of the tree, he realizes he doesn’t feel guilt at all. All he feels is love. 

Shooting you one last glance to which you nod her head encouragingly, he begins to pull at the ribbon, unravelling the bow completely before he moves on to the lid of the box. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting, but when his eyes make contact with the white stick sitting atop the plush tissue paper, he all but freezes into place because two pink lines are staring at Draco Malfoy right in his perfectly sculpted face. 

There’s a pregnant pause, and though it's cliche, no other word could describe it so perfectly. Draco’s mouth is parted with awe when he looks up and there are already tears in your eyes as you kneel to the floor in front of him, Scorpius pulled into your lap, and a bashful grin stretching across your cheeks.

“You’re pregnant?” It comes out choked, his bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly.

After transferring Scorpius to one arm and using the other to brush Draco’s unruly bangs from his face, you laugh happily. “Yeah, baby,” you breathe, tucking his blond strands behind his ear. “I’m pregnant.”

There’s a storm outside and yet Draco is sure he’s never felt warmer.

He sits on the floor, his son in his arms, and the promise of a lifetime with the love of his life resting in his palm. He is quite literally holding his world in his hands, and it occurs to him, then and there, that it truly is exceptionally lovely being Draco Malfoy.

[tunaababee]

we will be everything we say - Chapter 7

masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 7.1k // updates Mondays (aest)

Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.

As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.

But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: smut ahoy! finally!!!

Chapter 7: twenty-five and twenty-six

Rhys looked down at the passenger seat of his car, brows furrowed as he mulled the simple gift over. Was it too much? To be fair, nothing ever seemed like quite enough to him – Feyre deserved the world and he’d been so head over heels for her for so long that he would hand her the world on a silver platter if he could. But she didn’t know that and tonight was her night, the last thing he’d ever want to do was make her uncomfortable. His brothers said it was fine, Mor said it was perfect – even Amren had given her quiet nod of approval. They wouldn’t deliberately steer him wrong, so he had to just keep moving forward. Either way, there was no world where he was showing up for this empty handed, especially considering they were here to celebrate in the first place.

Pushing the fluttering feeling in his stomach to the side, Rhys grabbed the flowers and small gift box out of the seat, climbing out of the car and locking it behind him before striding into her apartment building with as much confidence as he could muster. In any other situation he’d be as cool as anything, but anytime Feyre was involved Rhys managed to constantly feel like a stumbling teenage boy falling ass over feet every damn time. Even through the hiccups the two had experienced between them, Rhys never stopped caring for her. Never stopped loving her either, though he’d never admit it to anybody’s face. It was absolutely, totally not platonic, incredibly soul-crushing love. After the two of them had come back into each other’s lives again it was almost as if everything had picked up exactly where they had left off, only Rhys’ feelings towards her had never quite ebbed away. If anything, they had gotten stronger, but it was something that he would unpack and stash away in the depths of his head another day. For now, he made his way up the few flights of stairs with his hands gripping a little too tightly onto Feyre’s presents and knocked on her door with a deep breath.

He already felt a little bad that everyone else had been able to arrive before him – he’d come straight from working, a day full of meetings and networking to try and keep expanding his fashion business for the better. Rhys’ crisp white button up was rolled up at the sleeves, bunching around his elbows, tucked into a crisp pair of black slacks, and paired with some of his most uncomfortable but stylish dress shoes – it was clear he’d come right over as soon as he could. The slight guilt gnawing at him melted away as Feyre opened the door for him though, flinging it open without abandon and beaming at him from the threshold as he quickly slipped the gift box into his pocket.

“Finally, Rhys my dear!” The absolute joy in her voice warmed his bones.

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

Without hesitation they wrapped each other in a tight hug, Rhys taking care not to crush the flowers in his hands. As he held her close for that moment, he noticed that she smelt like the tang of acrylic paint and soft lilac, like walking into a warm room on a cold day and the jasmine she had growing on the windowsill. She smelt like Feyre. Like home. They pulled apart before Rhys could get any more lost in the moment, quickly bringing the flowers up and handing them to her with reverence in his eyes, Feyre taking them with a smile that lit up the room.

“Rhys, you’re so sweet, this is too much.”

“Nothing’s too much for you, especially when you just sold your first piece! You can’t stop me from celebrating such a huge achievement for you.” He placed his hand on the side of her arm, giving a light but reassuring squeeze.

“Oh, no, I mean it’s literally too much,” Stepping to the side a little, Feyre gestured to her kitchen bench which was absolutely crammed with flowers in different shades running the gamut of the rainbow. Rhys’ flower arrangement added another pop of blues and whites into the assortment, daisies and cornflowers poking out brightly amongst baby’s breath and peonies. He simply chucked in turn, shrugging slightly.

“Well, you can’t say that you don’t deserve it. You’re one of the most talented people I know, it’s about time the art world saw that too.”

Rhys could spot a slight blush creeping up on Feyre’s cheeks – she’d never been very good at acknowledging just how talented and clever she was, and tonight was no different. As she began to open her mouth to respond, Cassian meandered over, pulling Rhys to his side with a grin as he dragged him further into the living room before he could protest.

“Rhys, come say hi to everyone first – we’ve barely seen you since you moved back, you’ll have plenty of time to continue singing Feyre’s praises later!”

Cassian had a point – Rhysand had liked New York, enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city, but it was so… lonely. He never regretted moving there in the first place as it was key to him getting his own business off the ground – though he did regret the awful, self-conceited redhead he’d tried to date for a few months there before it fell apart – but he missed being able to gather with his friends on a whim or just pop by their houses. To see them out and about on the street and make a day out of it. Seeing Feyre in all of her glory was simply an added bonus. Rhys had moved back to Prythian few months ago and it felt right, especially since Feyre and her sisters had never left, along with many of their friends still living in town or staying close by in the next town or two over. It had taken him a little while to get settled back into living in Velaris, but now that he was there on his own terms it felt liberating. So Rhys conceded and did the rounds about the room, happily drinking and making merry with everyone who he loved most in this world.

Nesta and Cassian had not long gotten engaged and Cassian couldn’t resist flaunting the most disgustingly sweet PDA he could manage whenever Nesta would allow it. Nesta kept insisting they were going to have something lowkey, but every time Cassian nodded along, anyone could see the twinkle in his eye – he was going to wheedle her into going big wherever he could. Tastefully big, but big nonetheless. Incredibly fitting for the two of them, especially considering the amount of times Rhys had seen Cassian naked against his will. That man never knew how to secure a towel around his waist back in college to save his life and had not an ounce of shame, even to this day.

Azriel and Gwyn were happily cuddled up in a corner, finally admitting to what everybody already knew – that they had been dating, and for several months at that. Azriel and Elain had almost had a thing a few years prior, especially when Az had been too shy to try and even approach Gwyn, but they’d both mutually decided it was for the best that they stuck to being friends. The two were still on wonderful terms, and Azriel and Gwyn were quietly giggling to themselves as they watched Elain and Lucien try to subtly hold hands without anybody noticing. The two recognised what her and Vanserra were doing easily as it was a game the two had tried to play themselves long ago. Rhys couldn’t help but smile a little, just glad that everyone was getting along.

Amren and Varian were simply… Amren and Varian. Whatever was going on between the two, nobody would know about until long after it happened. Were they engaged? Married? Committing murders and atrocities on the side? Beyond the two of them, who knows. Either way, they were on the couch chatting to Nesta animatedly, debating something that was probably far more niche than anybody else was willing to participate in.

Emerie was also pitching in with her own opinions where she could, seemingly using the conversation as a distraction from the occasional coy glance her and Mor would throw at one another with the subtlety of a brick through a window with a love note tied to it. Emerie always claimed to be too busy with her work as the manager of one of Rhys’ brick and mortar stores over in Windhaven, but she always managed to find time whenever Mor would stop by and check in on how everything was going and what the sales trends were. ‘Part of my job as a designer,’ Mor would say. Honestly, Rhys was just happy that his cousin was happy.

Even Jurian and Vassa had managed to make it – they were originally suppliers that Rhysand had made contact with on Lucien’s recommendation when his fashion business was in its infancy, but they’d quickly grown into fast friends of the group and made sure to meet up with everybody whenever they were in Prythian from overseas. It was a rarity that they were able to make it to these little parties and get-togethers, but it was always a joy to see them.

The hours flew by around them like they were mere minutes – everybody was talking, laughing, eating, drinking. Exactly how things should be, should feel. Warm and comfortable and happy. It was wonderful seeing Feyre absolutely in her element, showing off her piece that sold along with other works in progress. Ever since she’d picked up her artistic ventures again a little while after they’d reconciled, she had been doing nothing but going from stride to stride. It was hard to convey the sheer amount of joy it brought him to see her succeeding like this, but for the time being he held his tongue. Last thing she needed was their best friends needling at him about being ‘down horrendous’ right in front of her – not that they were wrong, though.

Soon enough, the late night hours began to crawl toward early morning and people were filtering out one by one. Jurian and Vassa were the first to leave since they had to catch a flight the next day and it didn’t take long for everyone else to slowly taper off afterwards, each with their own commitments or just from exhaustion seeping into their bones. Eventually it was just Rhys, Feyre and Mor all sat around together in the living room talking about nonsense. The clock ticked just shy of one in the morning when his cousin got up with a dramatic stretch.

“Well, it’s been fun you guys, but unlike you two, I have places to be tomorrow that require my beauty sleep.” Mor wiggled her eyebrows slightly with a little smirk.

“Ooh, what’s the occasion? Out to break hearts, or maybe swindle someone dastardly?” Feyre posited, giggling slightly as she leaned forward onto her knees while Rhys simply rolled his eyes.

“Not too far off, actually. I’m planning on finally asking that cute friend of your sister’s out on a date! And with these looks, who could resist?” She moved toward the door to Feyre’s apartment, grabbing her purse along the way with a sly smile and no lack of confidence about her.

“Christ, it’s about time. I could see you and Emerie practically undressing each other with your eyes all night – it’s definitely going to go well.” Rhys punctuated his sentence by finishing off the wine he had in his hand.

“That’s for me to know and for you guys to find out later. See you guys, and congrats again Feyre!” Mor blew them kisses as she waltzed out the door, a smile on Feyre’s lips as she watched her leave.

The atmosphere, while already fun and relaxed, settled into something cozier and comforting as Mor left – no matter what happened in life, Rhys and Feyre always stuck together to celebrate or commiserate and tonight was no different. It was moments like these Rhys’ heart couldn’t help but clench, desperately wanting to claw its way out of his chest and spill its contents before her. She was always so gorgeous, the moonlight flowing in through her wide apartment windows making her look utterly ethereal as she rose from the floor, plucking Rhys’ glass from his hand before grabbing her own and meandering to the kitchen. Feyre held the bottle up, looking at him with her eyebrows raised in questioning before he muttered a ‘please,’ and she filled their glasses up once more.

“While I’m never one to complain about having a drinking buddy, let alone such fine company as yourself, don’t you have to drive home?” Her brow furrowed with concern as she screwed the cap back onto the bottle, grabbing both of their glasses before coming back to settle on the couch right next to Rhys, side pressed to side. He could feel his heart skip a beat almost as if it was on cue.

“Ah, I could always take an Uber home or something. Besides, I know where you live and it’s not that far.” He chuckled lowly, clinking his glass with hers before taking a sip.

“…Or you could just stay over? You know you’re always welcome here, my house and your house have always been one and the same anyway!” Feyre practically beamed at him and fuck, who was he to deny her when she smiled at him like that? All joy and mirth and perfectly content?

“Well shit, I guess you’ve twisted my arm – absolutely no other option, I’m going to camp out here forever now. Hope you like me laying all over your apartment in my off time.”

Feyre’s head tipped back with laughter, a hand lightly smacking his chest before coming to settle on his leg. If he didn’t know any better, he could swear he could feel his skin searing under her touch. He forced his mind to other things, like the gift box burning a hole in his right pocket – he knew she’d probably think it was too much, but surely everyone deserved to spoil their best friend once in a while, right?

Fuck it, he thought. What's the worst that could happen? Take the chance.

“Though, since tonight has been all about celebrating, I actually have an extra little gift for you. Y’know, for you getting your name out there and everything for the first time in a professional sense,” He leaned forward to set his glass down on the coffee table, fishing the deep navy rectangular box from his pocket. Rhys gently set it on her lap, a small but genuine smile beginning to creep up on his face. “Open it.”

Feyre set her own glass on the table before tentatively beginning to pry it open. Inside it laid a necklace – a little silver heart-shaped lock pendant, a single small diamond on the front of it, hanging from a matching delicate chain. It looked like the stars were dancing in Feyre’s eyes as she looked it over, turning the pendant in her hands only to see a slight inscription – the date that her first piece had sold. Rhys could see her eyes going a little glassy as he opened his mouth to speak before she beat him to it.

“Rhys, this is gorgeous. I don’t deserve something as lovely as this, it’s too much.”

“You have worked so, so hard to get to where you are. Taking up art again, going back to college and finally finishing your degree, busting your ass to keep creating and working and putting yourself out there. If anything, it’s not enough. You deserve so much, Feyre.” He could feel more sitting on the tip of his tongue like a weight, but he could feel the air knocked from his lungs as her gaze met his expectantly, handing him the necklace carefully.

“…Can you help me put it on?”

“O-Of course. C’mon, turn around.”

Rhysand’s breath hitched in his throat as they shifted, him moving to face her as she turned her back to him. She gathered her long, golden-brown curls with a delicate sweep of her hands before pushing them upwards to allow him access. He snaked his arms over her shoulders, fumbling for a moment with the clasp – he didn’t want to have the pendant fall off, but the expanse of skin across the nape of her neck and his proximity to it was enough to drive any man insane. Rhys brought his hands towards her collar, fingertips brushing feather-light against her neck, as if it was a sin to be touching something so pure and holy as he pulled it through. He could swear he heard Feyre’s breath catch as he brought the clasp back together, fingers occasionally pressing against the nape of her neck as he did so.

Hesitantly, Rhys pulled his hands away, moving an arm to rest on the back of the couch while he took the flicker of a moment between them to drink her in. He watched her shift, hands coming to touch the necklace hanging delicately around her neck with something he could almost mistake for reverence. Feyre moved to sit facing forward once more, head turned toward him with something sweet behind her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. Earlier, as their friends had slowly filtered out through the night, Feyre had brought the lights down lower to suit the more cozy atmosphere, and right now the warm light mixed with the white-blue glow of the moonlight to make her look like a vision before him. It was almost impossible to keep the warmth of his affection off his face, and he probably looked stupider for it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. She smiled at him, radiant as ever with a giggle floating from between her lips.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”

“Nothing, just… You look stunning, that’s all. I was worried you might not like it.”

A pink crawled onto her cheeks, quickly deepening into a red and blotting out the constellations of her freckles as her eyes broke from his. “How could I not? You know me too well - even if it looked atrocious, I’d still wear it because it’s from you,” It was Rhys’ turn to feel his face warm then. Before he could even muster a response, she had practically thrown herself over the couch toward him and wrapped him up in an embrace with her arms snaked tightly around his neck. It was almost instinct to move his arms around her waist in turn, bringing her in as close and tightly as he could muster. “Thank you for always being in my corner, Rhys. Being there no matter what, even when I’m being a dumbass. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“…I’d walk to the ends of the Earth and then some for you, darling. Just say the word.”

Feyre pulled away slightly, sitting back on her knees as she brought her hands down to rest against the sides of his arms. His own hands moved to rest lightly on her waist, not daring to sink toward her hips despite how desperately he yearned for it. “You don’t need to be dramatic Rhys, it’s just me.”

He simply chuckled lowly, heart practically jumping out of his chest – whether it was ten years of preamble or a few too many glasses of middling wine talking, he felt a bit more brazen than he’d normally allow himself in front of her right now. He knew his heart wouldn’t stop trying to lurch through his throat if he didn’t say what was weighing him down like lead in his mouth. “Feyre, for once I’m not being dramatic here. Do you realise how much I would lay down for you? The one fucking person in this world who I trust with everything? You know more of my embarrassments, my failures, my hopes, my dreams than literally anybody else in this world and I am so lucky that you trust me enough to let me in and know yours, too. They mean everything to me. You mean everything. You have always been the one bright spot I can count on in my life if everything else fails. Like stars in my night sky. So if you told me to sell my business, make a fool of myself, burn it all down? For you? I’d do it. You’re the only person I’d do any of it for.”

“…You really mean all that?” Feyre looked almost shocked, stormy blue eyes looking almost glassy. No matter what he said, it felt like he couldn’t ever convey just how fucking deeply he felt for her. Had been feeling for her for so fucking long. He was so tired of sitting on it, of seeing how she constantly devalued herself to seem more palatable to everybody around her. If anyone deserved to be treated like a goddess among mortals in his eyes, it was Feyre.

There was never anybody else.

A soft smile split his face, gaze flicking to the ceiling for a moment before meeting her eyes again. One hand moved from her waist, shifting to cradle her chin in his fingers so carefully –like priceless art being handled by knowing hands. “Shit, how many times do I have to tell you I love you before you believe it, Feyre?”

“I love you too, Rh-“ He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb lightly, stopping her in her tracks as he leaned in closer.

“No, Feyre – when I say I love you, I mean I love you. I’ve loved you since we were teenagers, I loved you when we weren’t speaking, and I love you now. You, Feyre Archeron, are endlessly kind and forgiving and prickly and beautiful. You are braver than you give yourself credit for and you are one of the smartest people I have ever met,” Rhys could hear her shakily exhale as he pressed his brow with hers, the hand at her waist tightening ever so slightly. “For twenty years you have been my best friend, and for at least ten of those years you have been the subject of all my fantasies. All of my daydreams. When we said that it was going to be us against the world, that you were stuck with me forever, I meant forever. That is, of course, if you’ll have me.”

Their lips were mere millimetres apart, the softest brushes sending electric shocks all the way through Rhys’ spine. The hand on her chin moved to the side of her face, thumb brushing over her cheek softly, a slight tremble the only indication that he was holding anything back.

“So, will you, Feyre?” Rhys dropped his voice down low, barely above a whisper but heavy and full of longing.

“H-Huh?” She mumbled, seeming to have been lost in her own little reverie.

“Will you have me?”

What was only a few seconds, a mere beat between them, felt like an eternity until she feverishly pressed her lips to his, electric currents shooting through his nervous system so much it felt like fireworks. For the first time since she’d kissed his cheek that day outside of her house, it felt like the tilt of his world had finally been righted as he snaked his hand into her hair and greedily pressed her closer.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Feyre always knew that there was something… else simmering under the surface with her relationship with Rhysand Sterling. Something searing, something peculiar, something… living. She’d felt it since they were young and never knew what to make of it – she assumed it was just a feeling that came with being so deeply entwined in someone’s life for so long. It was a feeling that she hadn’t ever been able to replicate or feel with anybody else – not with high school flings, not with Tamlin, nobody. But as Rhys was talking to her, laying everything and then some out before her about how he felt? The feeling that jolted straight to her belly as his lips brushed over hers so tenderly? It all began to make sense.

Then, as she threw caution to the wind and finally pushed her lips hastily against his, Feyre finally felt truly alive.

Rhys’ hand moved into her hair, knotting itself firmly as he pulled her close like his life depended on it. The searing pull against the base of her scalp, the heat of his body against hers, the clashing of lips and tongues and teeth, swirled into a delightful murky haze through her senses that brought her world’s focus down to him and only him. How had they not been doing this? How had she even lived without knowing how he felt pressed up against her? There was no hesitation as she climbed into his lap, straddling him with her hands gripping his shoulders like a vice.

“Yes,” She breathed against his lips, her chest pressing against the hard planes of his own. His lips began to curl into a smile beneath her own.

“Yes what, Feyre?”

If her face wasn’t flushed before, it certainly was now. She knew he was teasing, always taking immense joy in riling her up. “You know what.”

She tried to press forward again, but he stopped her before gripping her jaw gently with a mischievous smirk, a finger coming to rest on her cheek. “I need to hear you say it. Say you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have you, Rhys,” Her eyes flicked up to find his gaze, his pupils wide with want and admiration and everything in between. It made her heart feel full and a fire begin to lick at the base of her stomach to see that she made him like this. “Sorry you had to wait so long.”

“Baby, I would have waited five hundred years if it still meant I got to kiss you.”

A whine slipped from her throat involuntarily and she could feel his hands shifting, one sliding down from her hair to press her closer at her back whilst the other began to slide unsubtly into the back pocket of her jeans – not that she minded in the slightest. Even if she didn’t quite have the words yet, it didn’t escape her just how right being here with Rhys like this felt. She’d entertained the thought in high school that she might have a crush on him, that she might even love him, but she brushed it off as teenage hormones because she was just so close to him. Besides, it was natural to love your best friend.

To love them so much that you snuck out of your house in the dead of the night to hang out.

To love them so much that you’d make up excuses for why you couldn’t be with your boyfriend that weekend just so you could see each other for the first time in weeks.

To love them so much that, even when you were the one who asked for space, all you could do was tear yourself up over the fact that they’re not there and you wish they were.

To love them so much that you didn’t entirely realise you’d been in love with them the whole fucking time, and you knew it in your heart but were too scared to admit it until he said something first.

She was distracted from her musing and beating herself up about how she had been so blind for so long by a firm but tender squeeze to her ass, Rhys beginning to pepper her jawline with kisses oh-so-sweetly. Feyre didn’t hesitate to expose more of the column of her neck to him, pressing her hips down teasingly against him with a dreamy sigh. She relished every touch, every kiss as he moved slowly but surely down the length of her neck to her shoulder with tantalising slowness, but it wasn’t quite what she was looking for. The warm, flickering fire that had began at her core and the pit of her stomach had spread into a syrupy, intoxicating sensation across her senses, her skin, her body that demanded… more. There was so much lost time to make up for – there would be time for tenderness later.

Both of her hands moved into the inky black locks of his hair, pulling his mouth off her with a small longing groan on Rhys’ part as he looked up at her.

“If you don’t want to go any further than this, you don’t ha-“

Fucking hell, he was so much kinder toward her than he had any right to be. It sent a shot of arousal straight through her, further spurring her on as she leaned down to brush her lips teasingly against the shell of his ear. It made a delicious shiver go through him and Feyre brought her voice down low and quiet, a treat just for the two of them.

“Rhys, you’re so sweet, but I was kind of hoping…” Feyre tugged his earlobe roughly with her teeth, grinding down roughly against the rapidly hardening length of him. It drew the most ragged, low moan from him as he visibly struggled not to drag her in closer. “…We could make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, Feyre,” Rhys’ voice was strained, intertwined with lust and awe. At her ­– she’d still struggle to believe it if he wasn’t right here in front of her. His hands shot to her waist, pulling her right down against him as he rolled his hips upwards. “Tell me what you need.”

“Y-You,” Her thoughts struggled to coalesce into anything coherent beyond the pure instinct and want that addled her brain. “Just you. You won’t break me, promise.”

Feyre punctuated her sentence by shucking off the loose t-shirt she had been wearing, tossing it to the side as she had a flicker of regret at not wearing a nice bra today. That flicker was extinguished the moment she caught the way Rhys was looking her over, his gaze hungry and practically drinking her in. It made her feel like there was live electricity coursing through her all the way through to her fingertips. Their hands worked almost in tandem now, Rhys’ working to undo the button of her jeans while her own moved clumsily to untuck his shirt before fussing over the buttons on his dress shirt. He was finished his task before her however, cutting Feyre’s mission short by simply pulling his shirt open and letting the buttons clatter helplessly into the couch.

Fucking hell.

Now it was Feyre’s turn to groan at the sight of him – night black whorls she had only ever been given mere glimpses of now on full display before her across the broad expanse of his warm chest. Before she could overthink it, she moved down to trace her tongue along the lines of every swirl and line, Rhys’ shirt joining her own on the floor beside the couch as she continued her ministrations. His hands, still adorned in gleaming silver bands that made her gasp at the sensation, travelled quickly up her back to unhook her bra with surprising deftness. Pulling her hands away to readjust, she dropped the garment onto the couch beside them before Rhys was gently pushing her away.

“Get up,” he purred, voice melting over Feyre’s brain like warm butter permeating her consciousness. She obeyed without thinking twice, keeping her eyes locked squarely on his as he stood from the couch. Rhys’ hand moved to cup her face, the other palming greedily at her breast. “So fucking gorgeous. My perfect girl.”

He used a foot to knock her legs wider before sinking to his knees, yanking her jeans down roughly along with him. Rhys was so delicate in the way he helped Feyre out of her pants, a stark contrast to the hunger he prowled back up the outside of her leg with. He left a trail of kisses – ankle to calf, knee to thigh, thigh to hip – that had Feyre transfixed and her breathing a little ragged as she watched. The expression on Rhys’ face changed from reverie to mischief in a blink, flashing his signature grin at her as he began to pull her panties down with his teeth at a pace that was tantalisingly slow. She couldn’t get enough of the show, but Feyre couldn’t help but be aware at how wanting she was, how empty her cunt felt. A desperate, whiny little whimper escaped her.

The minute her panties hit the floor, Rhys snatched them up like they were a lifeline – an invaluable tether as he held the soaked-through gusset of them close to his nose and inhaled deeply, eyelids fluttering closed in what seemed like an indulgent moment of bliss. “So much better than I could have ever dreamed,” Rhys murmured, eyes locked with Feyre’s as he quickly tucked them into his pocket for safekeeping.

She felt like a goddess before him, being blessed with her first apostle, so ardently dedicated and worshipping of her in a way she couldn’t have ever pictured. It felt heavenly.

Rhys’ lips lightly traced along the inside of her leg, a shiver running down her spine as her hands slid into his soft curls. His hot breath breezed over her core before licking a long stripe up her centre, while she pulled at his hair. A moan warbled out of her mouth shakily.

“I... Ah, fuck, I n-need you Rhys, please.”

He hummed against her folds, her hips canting against his face of their own accord at the sensation. “You have me, darling.”

“I need you inside me, or I’m going to f-fucking lose it.”

That got his attention.

He shot onto his feet like a bat out of hell, Feyre standing on her tiptoes in an effort to hook her leg over his hip. Rhys helped her out the rest of the way, grabbing the backs of her thighs to hoist her up, her legs locking around his waist firmly. She could feel the cool metal buckle of his belt pressed against her cunt, a small squeal leaving her lips before it was stolen by Rhys’ lips pressing against hers once more in a frenzy. He carried her with full confidence through her apartment, knowing exactly where her bedroom was – he’d been here so many times before, but seeing him so self-assured really did something for Feyre. Her arms were firmly snaked around his neck, one hand reaching up into his hair to force him closer, the other digging relentlessly into his back.

He only broke the kiss as they burst through her bedroom door, though it didn’t stop him from suckling and biting at her neck. “You have condoms in here?”

“If you- ah- stop touching me right now, I swear to god, I will k-kick you out,” Rhys lowered her onto the bed gently before beginning to climb over her, still maddeningly too clothed for her taste. He looked absolutely delectable in his well-tailored pants and belt, dress shoes still on somehow and jaw slightly agape. His pupils were blown wide as he took in the breadth of what she’d said, but she really wanted to speed this realisation along. Her hand shot down, palming his cock roughly over his pants. “I’m on birth control, now fuck me already.”

The clanking of his belt buckle and the accompanying thwip as he yanked it out of his belt loops made Feyre’s skin break out in goosebumps. “Whatever you want, pretty girl, I’ll give you. I’m all yours.”

He took a moment to coax her onto her stomach, guiding her wrists above her head before wrapping his belt around them until the leather dug into her flesh slightly, a delicious pleasure-pain as he restrained her. “All mine,” Feyre said in turn, pressing her ass into the air to tease him into giving her exactly what she was after.

The lack of his body’s warmth against her made her shiver slightly, the sound of his shoes being discarded and the rustle of fabric from behind her making her even slicker at her core than she already was in sheer anticipation. Soon enough he was behind her again, hands on her hips to pull her back against the searing length of him and splay her out exactly as he wanted. As much as Feyre was desperate to get a glimpse of his cock – her cunt fluttered just feeling the length and girth of him pressed against her backside – she knew, in the back of her mind, she would have plenty of time to get well acquainted[c6] . Suddenly Rhys’ hand was in her hair, wrenching her head back as he leaned over her.

“Gonna let take you, baby? Let me mark you up and make sure all your neighbours know who’s cock you’ll be coming on? You’re gonna be so good for me, right? I’ll make sure that my cock fits inside you so well.” His free hand was over her core, thumb idly tracing circles on her clit.

“Yes, yes, I’ll take it all. I’ll be so good, please.”

With that his hand pulled away from her centre, moving back to grip her hip bruisingly tight as he notched himself at her entrance, thrusting into her and oh god, the stretch of it all made Feyre release the most wanton moan into the bedsheets. Her brow pressed against the bed with eyes clenched shut as she focused solely on the delightful sting, the way she felt just that little bit closer to right, to the full sensation she was chasing.

“Christ, Feyre, you’re better than any fantasy, did you know that? So tight and dripping just for me.” Rhys murmured in her ear, showering her in sweet words and mind-meltingly delightful praise. He pulled back before pushing in again another few inches, Feyre muttering curses under her breath between please and more and yeses.

Rhys pulled himself out almost entirely, tip nearly slipping out of her with a whine before he slammed all the way home and Feyre screamed as she flung her head back, walls pulsing around him as he hit a spot inside that made her mind go blank for a few moments. The exposed line of her neck allowed Rhys to litter the creamy expanse of skin all the way down to the curve of her shoulder with dark purple hickeys, ah-ah-ah spilling from her lips like prayers as he kept slamming in relentlessly in conjunction with his ministrations. There was nothing except him and her and the way he was practically splitting her in two and the sting of the marks that told the world she was his. Nothing else in this world would feel quite as right to her as this moment, right now, merely a slave to the pleasure Rhys was more than willing to provide.

That telltale tension at the base of her spine continued to build with no signs of slowing down. She couldn’t help but begin to babble sugary-sweet nonsense from her mouth totally unfiltered, nothing but love and adoration and utter bliss that she was swimming in all verbalised. “Fuck, fuck, Rhys, I lo-love you- Love you so mu-uch. All yours, all yo- mmh!”

His pace picked up, much less measured and more animalistic as his hand flew from her hair to smack her ass sharply. She couldn’t help but moan like a whore in response. “Yeah, y-yeah you are. Love you so fucking much, nobody else for me but you, Feyre.” The way he was losing himself in her only brought her ever closer to the edge of her release – the way he was so gone for her made her only fall deeper and deeper into her feelings for him and she didn’t want it any other way. “Gonna be a good girl and come with me? H-Huh? Fucking take it, come for me, take it-“

With that last little drop of praise she was gone, sobbing a little with the intensity of her orgasm hitting her like a tidal wave. Her pussy clenched around Rhys’ cock relentlessly, feeling every twitch of it as he painted her inner walls with cum, letting out a series of filthy moans into her ear. It felt like a small eternity as those tidal waves slowly eased into a lapping tide, until the both of them were well and truly spent, fucking her right through until the two of them were curled up together in her messy sheets. Rhys moved to undo the belt around her wrists, throwing it haphazardly off the bed and onto the floor. Feyre let out a small whine as he pulled out of her, pressing her ass against him as she felt his spend leaking out onto her inner thigh. It didn’t escape Rhys’ notice, his fingers dipping low to lazily sweep through and push it right back into her, a subtle act of possession that was far hotter than it had any right to be.

She rolled over to face him, unable to bear another moment without being able to look at that perfect face and smile softly at him, perfectly sated. Rhys simply smiled back, pressing soft and lazy kisses to her mouth with the cutest, most dopey expression shaping his features. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her as closely to him as he could manage while the other pressed her head gently into the crook of his neck. Their skin was slicked in a sheen of sweat, the stickiness of it all ensuring there wasn’t a single gap between them.

There was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“You know you’re stuck with me forever now, right? Love you too much t’let you go ever again.” Feyre mumbled, the weight of sleep already starting to take her so easily in Rhys’ arms.

“Of course, and you’re insane if you think I’m letting anybody else s’much as look at you. Us against the world, right? Always has been.” Rhys murmured in her ear, a gentle kiss pressed into her hair.

“Always will be.”

Feyre pressed a tender, gentle kiss to his neck before drifting off into sleep. Her sleep was restful and dreamless, something that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She almost would have thought the whole previous night was a dream if it wasn’t for the warmth of him and his near-violet eyes greeting her in her bedroom the next morning. As long as she was with Rhys, she knew every day would feel like a dream no matter what.

She’d be forever grateful that it was her new reality.

[elsewhereuniversity]

Hi! How close is the current crazed sewing kit to completion? I’m a textile major- wait sorry, introductions- call me Rivet (not like the frog, like the metal thingy that holds things together) she/her. Anyways. I’m a textile major and I want to create the worlds most fucked up non-euclidian quilt. Its my capstone project. If the kit’s already claimed or not ready for usage/consumption/harvest, that’s alright, i have some favors and a variety of the currency the goblin market uses, but i’ve really got my eye on the weaving tablets and myriad pins of this iteration. I promise i’ll use it all though! Or, at least, i’ll keep the odds and ends tucked away for future projects. I’m willing to trade a ship in a bottle that sails on an ocean affected by tomorrow’s weather, a cursed bonefolder that actually, yknow, folds bones instead of paper, and a bolt of fabric i spun and wove myself. Nothing overtly magical about it, but it is a nice shade of red.

The fourth crazed sewing kit is ready and it is yours.

A swatch of bloodstained blue velvet

Swatches of stiff fabric that shift chameleon-like to match any other

A walnut shell containing yards of fabric woven from starshine

A bloodstained pincushion in the approximate form of a person, filled with human hair and fingernail clippings, among other things

A seam ripper that only cuts the threads you intend it to

A pair of iron shears, decorated with gilt filigree, which only cut things that have been measured twice

A needle of steel, which is efficient but bites

A needle used to stitch a wound, which now only pierces flesh

A needle of silver, used as a sword by a very small hand. Any thread spun through the eye is unbreakable while it's being sewn.

Thread of human hair, cut and regrown

Thread of human hair, golden

Thread of horsehair, one strand jet black and one snow-white

Thread of gold and of silver, the first of which sooths and the second of which energizes

Thread of variable length, glowing as though white hot

Fabric-pencils which trace possibilities, leaning theatrical

A mannequin which wants nothing more than to swap places with you, and will do so at the first opportunity

A spool of oakwood plated with gold, which ensures you will have just enough thread to finish any project you use it with.

A drop spindle of oakwood which turns hay to gold

Two buttons of silver which shine in the dark, from a coat made of night-sky

A squatcho from a beret, seemingly made of lead inside the fabric casing.

Pliers plated with sterling silver, to remove recalcitrant needles

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 69: Sundae Night

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Sebastian is having a difficult time reconciling with the information Ominis shared during his Saturday evening visit. Ominis and Ruby, in their fifth year, had been the ones to turn Sebastian in, which set into motion the events that led to a life sentence in Azkaban. It's been a tough weekend in general for Sebastian. Kate has no idea how to help - it seems there is no way she can fix what happened. She gives Sebastian some space to cope on his own for the first half of the day. He mostly does so through tasks leading to physical and magical exhaustion. Eventually, a good meal leads to Sebastian perking up, though he still has no interest in discussing what he learned. He and Kate spend some time together in the evening, and when the sun has set, there is knocking at the door. Neither of them expected visitors, and they are both on guard as Sebastian approaches the door to see two figures behind it.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story. Even though this is Chapter 69, there is no smut (it will have to wait for the next chapter!). This chapter features worries about a family's acceptance of a relationship, trying to impress others, and hiding information.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). I always appreciate feedback.

Chapter 69: Sundae Night

There is knocking again. Sebastian motions for Kate to safely remain seated away from the door.

Kate doesn’t listen, though, slowly rising to her feet. She realizes that she must fix her clothing, so she buttons her blouse again and ties the bow at her collar. She creeps over towards the fireplace, peering around the corner into the entryway. Just in case, she pats her skirt to feel for her wand like Sebastian did.

He opens the door a crack, peeking outside at the two figures to ascertain the situation. “Can I… help you?” he asks with suspicion, expecting the worst.

The two people at the door look at each other in confusion, then back at Sebastian. 

“Erm… Who… Who are you?” a rather short woman with wide brown eyes asks, her tone baffled and wary all at once. She is in her 20s, dressed in a fashionable outfit - a white blouse with a silver bow, a gray jacket with silver trim, and a matching gray skirt. Her hair is tied into a loose bun, with a few stray wisps of hair framing her face. It’s blonde - so blonde, in fact, that it almost appears white. She gestures to the tall, stocky man with dark blonde hair at her side. He is dressed in a blue suit with a white collared shirt. “We… We’re here to see my sister…???” she slowly says, framing it like a question.

“Irene!” Kate immediately rushes forward, pushing Sebastian aside upon recognition of the woman’s voice. 

He watches in surprise as Kate opens the door fully, embracing her younger sister while smiling at the man next to her. “Hi! What- what are you doing here?!”

“Well, we…” Irene chuckles as she breaks the embrace, glancing at Niles. “We wanted to end the weekend on a high note. I was craving ice cream, and we decided to apparate to Hogsmeade to treat ourselves to Honeydukes. I know it’s short notice, but… I reckoned we might as well stop by and see if you might like to join us.” She very obviously studies Sebastian, taking in his appearance and demeanor. “I didn’t mean to intrude, though. I wasn’t aware you had… company.” 

“Oh, my goodness! Where are my manners?! Erm… Irene and Niles, this is Sebastian, my… um, my boyfriend. Sebastian, this is my sister, Irene Mayflower, and her fiance, Niles Sterling.” Kate grins widely.

Sebastian smiles, reaching out his hand to Irene. “Sebastian Sallow. It’s really nice to meet you.” He also shakes the blonde man’s hand, exchanging pleasantries.

Irene smirks at Kate, glancing between her and Sebastian, while their men are distracted, and Kate gives her a sisterly look that screams, “Shove it!”

They all stand there awkwardly for a moment before Kate finally says, “Well, come in, come in!”

As Irene and Niles step into the house, heading towards the living room, Kate grabs Sebastian’s hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “Calm down. They’ll love you,” she whispers discreetly.

Giving Sebastian a secret look, she attempts to communicate through just her eyes that she is feeling quite surprised but that it will all be okay. He squeezes her hand in return, trying to stay calm. This is certainly not how he expected to end a rather tumultuous weekend. He reminds himself to be charming and on his best behavior. This is a rare chance to impress Kate’s family members - and what’s more, not having any notice means he didn’t have any time to panic in advance… Perhaps this is actually a blessing.

“Ah, well, as you can see, my cottage was unprepared for guests,” Kate tells them, picking up their discarded books from earlier. “I have yet to buy another couch. I do have enough seats in the kitchen, though. Shall we?” She gestures towards the open doorway.

Irene observes their surroundings with a small smile. “I always forget how… cozy your home is. It’s so charming.”

Kate has to stop herself from rolling her eyes, maintaining her cheerful countenance. “Well, we don’t all want to clean ten unused rooms, do we now?”

Niles coughs, stifling a laugh as they sit at the kitchen table. 

“May I offer refreshments? Tea, cider, wine…?”

They politely decline, shaking their heads. Sebastian catches himself and sits up straighter.

“Thank you, but we’re really here just for ice cream,” Irene explains with a cheeky expression.

Kate giggles. “With anyone else, I would be surprised, but I can’t say I am shocked that you would come all this way just for a sundae.”

“Your family… and their ice cream addiction,” Niles mutters with a laugh.

Kate reaches for Sebastian’s hand under the table. She at first touches his leg, and he flinches. He’s tense and anxious but clearly trying to mask it. She gently intertwines their fingers, and he squeezes her hand in return.

Sebastian smiles with a twinkle in his eye, addressing Irene playfully. “So, you must like Honeydukes a lot. Is it really an addiction… or more of an exaggeration?”

Irene grins, shrugging. “It’s honestly not an exaggeration. Our family loves ice cream. And lucky for me, so does Niles.” She chuckles. “How about you, Sebastian?”

“I wouldn’t say I am… addicted, but I do have a soft spot for ice cream,” he replies. “I mean, I knew Kate liked ice cream, but I didn’t realize how deep that love might run. I guess I have some competition.” He smirks at his girlfriend.

Kate gives him a lopsided smile back, shaking her head. “Well… Shall we join them? I’d love to go to Honeydukes.”

“Absolutely, as long as that’s alright by both of you,” he says to Irene and Niles. 

“Of course!” Irene answers. “I must admit I was not expecting to meet you so soon, Sebastian, but… the more the merrier!” She pauses. “You know, you do look familiar to me somehow. I just can’t place it, though.”

Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you before, but who knows?”

Truly, he does not recognize Irene, but he knows it’s very possible that she might recognize him. He is fully aware that Irene was once a Slytherin, just like him. Though she would have been much younger - three years below him, they might have walked past each other countless times. Perhaps she had cheered as he blasted a Bludger towards the opposing team. Maybe she had once overheard Ominis and Ruby arguing with him at their table in the Great Hall. Did Irene observe as he was shamefully led out of the common room during his expulsion? 

Really, who knew?

Kate gives him a worried look, clearly on the same wavelength. This wouldn’t be a great time for Irene - or Niles, for that matter - to realize Sebastian was once a fellow student who never graduated.

“Regardless, it’s settled - shall we all walk to Honeydukes?” Kate jumps in, hoping to move on from the idea of recognition.

Everyone agrees, and they quickly head out the door and begin their stroll into Hogsmeade, using their wands to light the way. Leading, Irene holds on to Niles’ arm, and Kate and Sebastian follow, tightly holding hands.  

“So what is everyone’s favorite flavor?” Sebastian asks, trying to stir up conversation.

The small talk about ice cream seems to melt some of Sebastian’s anxiety. As they stroll closer to town, Kate asks some questions that she knows will help her boyfriend to get to know them better.

“How is the wedding planning coming along? There’s only a couple of months to go…” 

Irene sighs. "We're looking forward to it, but… we just kind of want it over with. You know we don't like to be on display in front of so many people, even if it's mostly family. It gives us a lot of anxiety." Niles bobs his head in agreement. Irene turns to Sebastian, explaining, "I don't know how much you know yet, but our family is huge. Unfortunately, that means the wedding will also be huge."

“How big are we talking, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sebastian inquires. “Do you have an estimate?”

“About 200 people,” she replies, almost sounding downtrodden. “Niles also has a large family. Both of our families, plus friends… it’s just… a lot.”

He is taken aback. “How do you even… organize an event for so many people? I mean, I have only been to one wedding, and it was... a small affair...” He looks a little confused yet fascinated by the alien idea of such a large wedding. Kate wonders if it’s sunk in that their wedding will likely be the same.

Irene laughs. “With a lot of help! Niles' mother and our mother,” she says, gesturing towards Kate, “have given so much of their time.”

Niles glances curiously at Sebastian. “You've only been to one wedding in your life? That's surprising. You must not have a large family.”

A flash of sadness appears on his face, but he attempts to shake it off quickly. “No, my family is… Well, both of my parents passed away when I was young. The wedding I attended wasn’t even a family affair - it was a neighbor’s… and it was quite simple.”

Kate jumps in, attempting to rescue him. “I’ve… um, I’ve asked Sebastian to be my date to your wedding. We both look forward to attending.”

Sebastian gazes at his girlfriend thankfully. “Yes, it’s an honor to have been asked.”

“Sebastian does not have experience at all with a huge family like ours. It will be a trial by fire.” Kate laughs. “Niles, do you have any advice for Sebastian about meeting our family? It wasn't long ago that you were in his shoes.”

They cross the stone bridge leading into Hogsmeade, whispering, “Nox” to their wands. All of the streetlamps are illuminated, guiding their way forward. Most of the shops are closed, so it’s very clear from the lights which restaurants or pubs are open late.

Niles thinks for a moment before speaking. “I would say it's best to just be friendly and polite... Try to be involved within the conversations... You know, listen, ask questions…” He gives Sebastian a small smile. “It wasn't easy for me at first either. I met the whole family on Christmas Eve, and it was an exciting event. Absolutely beautiful, perfect in every way… if not for my personal terror of needing to impress everyone. But... I got to know the Mayflowers eventually... and they are very nice people.”

Kate nods. “I've told Sebastian as much, Niles." She pauses. “You know, I think it's quite fortuitous that both of you surprised us tonight. It's always nice to get to know people in smaller settings.”

“Yes - I appreciate meeting you this way. Not having to talk to everyone right at once is a little less overwhelming,” Sebastian agrees.

“I think the only overwhelming thing here tonight,” Kate says with a cheeky grin, “is deciding what kind of ice cream to get!” She stops walking, as they have reached Honeydukes. They all walk inside and head to the ice cream counter.

While Irene and Niles are ordering ahead of them, Kate pulls Sebastian aside to check in with him covertly. "This was… quite a surprise for them to show up. Are you doing okay? Do you need anything?"

“I’m fine,” Sebastian replies in a hushed tone, glancing their way. “I was caught off guard when your sister said she felt like she recognized me, though.”

“Hmmm. Personally, I wouldn’t read too much into it. You were both in Slytherin, so your paths probably crossed at some point. She doesn’t seem to have any solid details, especially ones that might make her look at you in a negative light,” Kate acknowledges. She smiles at him. “I think you’re doing very well, Bash. I’m not sure how long they plan to stay tonight, but if you’re still having a good time when we leave Honeydukes, we could keep it going. We could head to the Three Broomsticks for a drink or return to the cottage to play a game or something.” She kisses him on the cheek. “I’m going to leave that up to you, though. There is absolutely no pressure, and they might want to get home anyway. I guess let’s see where tonight takes us.”

Sebastian nods. “I am having a nice time so far.”

“Good!” Kate grins. “Well, let’s hope it continues. Just keep this in mind - they are your future brother and sister in law,” she mentions pointedly. “We’ll be together often.”

His eyebrows raise - everything has happened so suddenly that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind yet. 

“Hey, we’re going to find a table outside,” Niles calls out, holding the door open for Irene. “See you out there.”

“Well, I guess we had better order before they wonder what is going on,” Kate suggests. She kisses his cheek again, lingering. “I mean it when I say this is going well. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sunshine.” Sebastian watches the other couple in a different light as they exit the shop.

A few minutes later, they walk out of the shop with their ice cream, finding Irene and Niles waving from a nearby table. 

“Well, well, well - look at that. Irene has good taste,” Kate says with a laugh, staring at her choice of dessert. 

The sisters have ordered the exact same item - a honey and cinnamon sundae. Niles chuckles, sipping a chocolate milkshake. Sebastian sits down slowly, carefully placing his hot fudge sundae on the table.

“So, how is work these days?” Kate inquires, then turns to her boyfriend. “They’re both Healers at St. Mungo’s - I’m not sure if you remember me telling you that.”

“Busy. But… it’s always busy,” Niles replies. To Sebastian, he adds, “I work in the Poisoning Department, and Irene is a floater - she fills in wherever necessary. That’s where we met - at work.”

“That’s impressive,” Sebastian notes, in regards to Irene’s job. “You must be a jack of all trades.” He speaks to Niles. “And what is it like to work in the Poisoning Department?”

“Well, there’s never a dull day, that’s for sure,” he responds with a laugh, then glances around to make sure no one is listening. “Keep this between us, but…” He leans in and speaks more quietly. “Recently, we had two patients who overdosed on Amortentia. Apparently, they had just wanted to, uh… experiment a little, but taking so much - an entire bottle each - was a very poor choice. They couldn’t keep their hands, mouths, and even… other body parts off of each other. We eventually had to lock them in separate rooms with them screaming out of frustration.”

Sebastian chuckles, seeing the humor in the situation, but he’s fascinated nonetheless. “I’ve read accounts of people who have had bad effects from Amortentia - some of them quite embarrassing - but how interesting to actually see that. Were you able to at least talk to them or potentially calm down the effects of the potion? Or was it just too late?”

“Uh, far too late,” Niles answers in a funny tone. 

“That must have been awkward,” Kate adds.

“Very.”

Irene shakes her head. “Just another day at St. Mungo’s…” she trails off with a laugh.

An owl swoops overhead on its way to the Hogsmeade Owl Post, screeching loudly out of nowhere. Kate makes a face at it.

Just as Sebastian takes a bite of his sundae, Irene asks, “So… what do you do for work, Sebastian?”

Kate’s eyes quickly focus on him. “His work is pretty highly classified…” She hesitates to say more, not wanting to lead to any questions of why he does the work he does…

Clearing his throat first, Sebastian chooses his words carefully. “If you must know, I work for the Ministry, but it is not something I am permitted to disclose for safety reasons. That’s all I can really say. I’m sorry to be so vague.”

Irene and Niles glance at each other, surprised and interested in the mystery.

“I will admit that it is a dangerous job that worries me a lot,” Kate mentions. “We are hoping that Sebastian can wrap up a project soon and be able to pursue a different line of work. He’s… a man of many talents.” She smiles proudly at her boyfriend. “Quite the scholar and explorer.” To add more intrigue, she adds, “Professor Weasley at Hogwarts has a new collection of Dark and dangerous artifacts for the Restricted Section of the library. Sebastian is going to handle the curation because of his special skills while I do some summer work. We might be working together a little bit every now and then.”

Sebastian smiles outwardly. While he is pleased with Kate’s compliments, he recognizes that she is keeping everything about his job secret. They could have revealed that he works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or said that he is an Auror, but Kate purposefully chose to stay quiet. He thinks back to when Kate first told him about her family members - that her mother and sister were adept at sniffing out secrets and finding information - true Slytherins. Even mentioning the department would reveal a clue that might damage his reputation with the Mayflowers before Kate has a chance to explain. Inevitably, they will have to reveal the truth about Sebastian’s work. For now, this is a bandage, and someday, the wound will be wide open.

But today is not that day.

“Oh, Professor Weasley!” Irene exclaims without pressing further, allowing Sebastian to relax again. “How terribly I miss Hogwarts! Kate, you’re so lucky to work there!” She grins at her fiance. “Wouldn’t it be fun to work in the school hospital wing?”

Kate huffs out a laugh. “No, thank you. Nurse Blainey is a busy woman, and I do not envy her work at all. I’ve had to escort students there… and she doesn’t take any pity on the kids. It’s all tough love.”

“That’s for sure. Blainey is not a woman to be messed with,” Sebastian agrees. “I remember visiting the hospital wing from time to time - mostly for Quidditch injuries, but sometimes for other incidents. She always tells it like it is. Sugar coating isn’t for a school nurse.”

Niles looks at Sebastian. “So, you must have gone to Hogwarts as well. What house were you in?”

“Yes. I was in Slytherin. How about you?”

Irene and Niles turn to each other and giggle. Irene whispers excitedly, “Another pair like us!”

Niles replies, “I was in Hufflepuff, and Irene was in Slytherin.”

“Interesting,” Sebastian says, trying to imagine them younger, clad in their house robes.

“Oh!” Irene’s eyes widen. “You and I were both in Slytherin, Sebastian - that must be why you look familiar to me.”

Kate glances at Sebastian and nods - her theory has been proven.

“You must mean the great house of Slytherin,” Sebastian corrects with a grin.

Kate narrows her eyes and nudges Niles. “Not greater than Hufflepuff.” She laughs playfully.

Niles shrugs. “Nah, Slytherin is greater. Hufflepuff has some wonderful qualities, but to say that? I wouldn’t be so bold.”

“Niles! You traitor! Helga Hufflepuff will grow restless in her tomb!” Kate protests incredulously. “How could you say that?!”

“Slytherin may be greater, but Hufflepuff is nicer.” Niles shrugs again.

Kate is a little appeased but still looks annoyed.

Sebastian chuckles along with Irene. “Niles, you make a good point. I’d never say that Slytherin is nicer. We certainly are not.”

“Niles is far too kind and diplomatic for his own good,” Kate mutters.

“You know, Niles, I can tell you’re an intelligent man. You know the right thing to say and do not try to provoke further conflict,” Sebastian points out kindly.

Niles grins, seemingly pleased with the compliment. “That’s the beauty of Hufflepuff - is it not?”

Kate has to agree and crack a smile at that. “Peace at all costs!”

Everyone takes a moment to eat more of their dessert. Though the ice cream is magical, charmed to stay cold, it is finally beginning to melt. Kate revels in the sweetness of the honey intermingling with the spicy cinnamon.

Irene has been quiet for a while, studying Sebastian, and she finally speaks up. “You know, when I was sorted into Slytherin all those years ago, I remember very clearly two older boys telling all of the first years a lie - that if we were to look through the underwater windows long enough that we could find mermaids. I sat by the windows for a very, very long time that year, positively determined to spot one…” She narrows her eyes at him. “Does that sound familiar to you at all, Sebastian?”

With an apologetic smile, Sebastian replies cheekily, “Maybe…”

Kate’s mouth drops. “Bash! Did you and Ominis tell that to the first years every term?!”

He can’t help but laugh. “Yeah… it was our little tradition. We loved pranking the new students. When they would get frustrated, of course unable to see the mermaids, Ominis would tell them that they were at the wrong window…”

Kate cracks up. “A man after my own heart… I would have done the exact same!” 

She looks admiringly at Sebastian, staring deeply into his eyes, and their gaze lingers a little too long. Without thinking, she leans in, instinctively kissing Sebastian’s cheek. Immediately, she realizes her mistake - doing this in front of guests is rather taboo. Kate closes her eyes, internally cringing. Irene and Niles smirk at each other while Sebastian’s face slowly turns pink.

“So, how did you two meet?” Niles finally asks. 

Bashfully, Kate replies, “Oh, goodness… We met on my birthday, in the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley. Sebastian caught my eye, and… well, the rest is history.” Kate takes his hand. “We haven’t known each other all that long, but… we have a good feeling about where things are going.”

Sebastian fondly looks at her and nods. “Yes, it’s true that we’ve only known each other for about a month, but… I do believe it’s true love. What I feel for Kate… it’s deep… and so different from anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Kate goes crimson, her mouth dropping open. Irene’s eyes dart her way.

Sebastian cannot contain his smile, and his eyes go soft when he gazes at his girlfriend. He notices how embarrassed she seems, though, and he asks, “Did… Did I say too much?”

Irene and Niles exchange glances again, grinning at each other, clearly enjoying seeing Kate flustered.

“It’s… Erm, it’s okay, Sebastian. I guess they were bound to find out sooner than later,” Kate replies quietly, still blushing fiercely. To support him, she adds, “It’s… true. We’re very much in love. I won’t deny it.”

Sebastian’s heart soars. To hear her admitting it to others makes it feel so much more meaningful and real. 

“Well,” Kate says after a moment, trying to quickly change the subject, “I’m all finished with my sundae, and… it looks like all of us are done eating.”

Standing up, Sebastian offers to clean up. He gathers all of the sundae dishes and the milkshake cup, carrying them inside. Kate braces herself, expecting Irene to say something snarky to her, but she doesn’t. It’s quiet for a while.

“He’s nice,” Irene finally tells Kate. She opens her mouth to say more, but Sebastian quickly pops back outside. As he approaches the table, Niles shows Irene his pocket watch. She gasps. “Oh, it’s getting late - it’s almost ten! We really must get going - we both have to work tomorrow.”

Kate nods, standing. She embraces her sister and Niles. “Don’t be strangers. And Irene, I know I’ll see you Thursday.” 

Sebastian isn’t sure what to do, so he copies Kate, hugging the visitors. “I hope we can all meet again soon.”

Niles and Irene wave cheerfully, then apparate to their home in London. 

The sky is clear, and the moon is shining brightly. Kate turns to Sebastian, smiling. She caresses his face and pulls him close for a gentle kiss. 

“I love you,” she whispers affectionately, melting into Sebastian as he reaches out to hold her. “Let’s go home.”

[thecglcatalog]

Election Week Deal: The Toy Soldier Sale

Today we salute the selfless souls who re-train radicalized young men from militia fodder to sweet, obedient infantilized slave-boys.  Such men are just searching for a sense of belonging, a code of behavior – and we’re honored to partner with the firm hands who provide it.

Through November 8, take 25% off the adult-baby items on this page with the code “BRO.”  They’re ideal for helping former disaffected young men – and even legitimate military veterans! – feel out their new identity as your age-regressed little pet.

Sparkle Camo Underpants.  Sweet little Y-front cotton briefs come in a seven-pack with two each of green, tan, and grey camo, plus a bonus pair in white.  Edge trimming is metallic, and a pretty scattering of matching glitter dots adorns the backside.  Specify trim color: Perfect Pearlescent, Rose Gold, Sterling Silver.

First Responder Slut Tees.  Let baby show his respect for the things he values without losing sight of his new purpose in life. These transparent mesh tees are slightly cropped and adorned with the names of military and public services.  Standard jersey short sleeves, crew neck amplify the contrast with the humiliating overall look!  Specify FIRE DEPT (white/red), ARMY (tan/green), COAST GUARD (white/navy).

Water Pistol Onesie.  Gun culture may have been important to your little toy’s life, so let him explore that interest in an age-appropriate way with the Water Pistol Onesie.  Multicolored plastic squirt guns, many of them in the process of ejecting a stream and splash, tumble all over this super-soft cotton flannel onesie.  Four multicolored crotch snaps to coordinate; lapped shoulders; three-quarter sleeves.

Mommy’s Tough Guy Onesie.  Ringer-tee snap-crotch bodysuit in T-shirt jersey has “Mommy’s Tough Guy” in applique letters on the front.  Also available in “Daddy’s Tough Guy.”  Jersey with short sleeves, crew neck, five-snap crotch.  Lettering and ringer details are white.  Specify body color: Heather Grey, Dark Red, Ocean Blue, Iceberg Green.

Adult Baby Military Hats.  Irresistibly adorable little caps to adorn baby’s head – and strip former symbols of power of their masculine mystique.  Cavalry Stetson is slightly too small for most adult heads, but has an adjustable chin strap; its signature badge and tassels are baby pink.  Police-style Patrol Cap has black patent leather brim and strap, your choice of navy body with gold teddy button or powder blue body with rhinestone heart button.  Sailor Hat in neatly starched white cotton has an embroidered anchor and pins to the hair at a jaunty angle.

Shooting Stars Spanker.  Your little patriot probably associates stars with rewards for valor.  Give him a gold star for naughtiness instead with this super-stingy spanking rod of flexible nanoplastic, which has cutout stars that leave a distinct red mark on his bottom. Specify color: light red, butter, sky.

Clothespin Soldiers.  With the ideas he was given about masculinity, baby might struggle for a while to relax into doll play.  Help him transition with a set of clothespin-doll toy soldiers!  They’re modern spring clothespins with an extra steel rod to hold a wooden bead head.  Little felt military uniforms and painted jackboots turn them into cute and classic toys – that have a pinchy bite sure to make his nipples snap to attention.  Set of 6.  Specify coat color: classic red, powder blue, or sparkle pink.

Tarpaulin Nursery Softies Gift Set.  Whether he associates them with field tactics or camping, crinkly tarps are a sweet personalization for his new nursery!  Two throw pillows with steel grommet corners and a folding nap mat are packed inside a toy box with matching upholstery, steel grommet finger loops, fitted lid.  Specify blue plastic tarp, Olive Drab nylon canvas, or Tactical Black nylon canvas.  The box arrives tied with a burlap ribbon that secures a miniature tarp teddy on top!

Tin Tank Baby Walker.  Adult-sized version of a first-year essential shaped like an antique tank!  Stand-up bouncer on locking casters has a stretchy-springy supporter in the middle.  Lower your slave through the top hatch into the seat and let him push himself around with his knees, or lock the casters and tie his ankles to the eyebolts in the back of the play tray so he can’t reach the floor and has to stay where you put him.  Play tray includes toy periscope, swiveling toy cannon, buttons to push that produce “whoosh” and “bang” noises, some interesting unmarked dials (they’re actually a thermometer/barometer), and a recessed slot for a snack, puzzle, or board book.  Plastic and molded metal; specify color: buff, black, olive drab.

Cavalry Charge Play Set.  Adult baby boy rides to the rescue!  Spring-frame wooden bouncy horse has a screw port for a dildo at the rear of its saddle (and another one between the hind legs for display … or multi-slave play, for that matter).  Slide your little man’s hole onto the dildo, hand him the vibrating rubber sword (don’t worry, it’s too flimsy for him to hurt himself!), and top off his look with baby cavalry hat and a white clip-on play cape attached to his nipples or onesie shoulders.  Charge! Also includes a nylon Rocking Horse Girth in Tactical Black for keeping him on the horsie.  Specify horse finish: white/red accents, pine/black accents, stained oak.

Soldier Peg Doll Anal Trainer.  Special edition hole-gaping practice toy has five subtly contoured peg dolls in a row, from a two-inch cadet to a nine-inch general!  It’s carved from smooth wood with a glossy wipe-clean finish that won’t absorb lube.  Specify your peg soldiers’ painted uniforms: green forest camo, buff desert camo, black with gold accents.

[refractiveame]

Memoriam of Calamity

"A stunning jeweled statue, found in the depths of a smoldering cavern. The two gems dance in intertwined chaos, a breathtaking site that refuels my desire to finish this journey's quota and return to my family." - Captain Olimar... Probably.

This piece was inspired and based around Pikmin 2's treasures Essence of Rage and Essence of Despair; imagining how these treasures may have been found in jewelery before their new purpose as a galactic freight company's debt recovery asset.

But to get to the fun part, this piece is a 20" total length necklace in sterling silver with a 14k gold button on the flower, featuring a lab created rose cut ruby and emerald. I hand made the leaves and the flower and ordered the chain and the mounting for the stones.

Figuring out how to create a natural looking leaf that still resembled the classic pikmin leaf was far more challenging than i had anticipated going into this project. After some testing with different initial shapes and thicknesses i found something i was happy with. Essentially i cut a flat piece of silver that fit my dimensions and matched a drawing i had assumed to turn out well and then used a dapping set to do the shaping. (A dapping set being a small steel block with many spherical holes of many different sizes and a corresponding set of steel punches that have spherical ends to match the holes of the block)

After curving the piece into one curve i would take round nose pliers and bend the end up to give it a sensible shape and one that complements it being used as the connection between chain and center of the pendant. For the very tip of the leaf i took the same pliers and carefully bent the other way to loop the end for a oring to fit through for the chain, then soldered that loop i created shut to ensure sturdiness of the pendant.

In retrospect i wish i had tried to add the detailing you see in the finished piece before rounding to see if a more even and clean carving could have been achieved.

I moved on to the flower which i did some quick maths to determine the size and where to cut the slits to split it into petals. It largely followed the same process as the leaf of cut to shape, cut the reliefs for the petals, and round with the dapping set. But after rounding i took a small round ball bur to the center to allow me to solder a small gold ball to it to better resemble the flower in game.

Here i wish i had better understood how exactly to shape the petals the way i wished as i was not consciously expecting the petals to touch again after being rounded. But i still am stumped as to what the best way to shape a piece like this is given the size and precision i was wanting with the curves on the sides of the petals.

After carefully attaching the pieces together with a few third hands and some patience i began the detailing process which was rather tedious but simple. I applied sharpie to the leaves and scratched in a pattern i felt fit the shape to give the impression of a leaf's vascular system before following that up with a kraus bur, small ball bur, and rubber wheels.

For the flower i added some slight folding of the petals by using a kraus bur to indent it as the petal sprawled from its center, then went back over it with a heavy rubber wheel to smooth out the sharp ruts of removed metal, giving it a wavy, fold like effect that doesn't capture well on camera.

And i added a brush finished to the leaves but left the "veins" high polished to give it an appealing contrast and prevent it from easily looking bad due to greasy/dirty fingers touching the polished silver.

Attached the chain with some simple orings and moved on.

Thusly i arrived at the most stressful and final part of the journey, Bezel setting these roze cuts. For someone who knew what they were doing this would be a breeze but as someone who had never set a stone bezel style nor done so on a pendant that would be hard to grasp firmly this was quite a challenge for me. After getting advice from my elder coworkers on the process i got to work using an inverted conical bur to shape the inside of the mountings to set the stone, periodically checking if the stone would snap in so as to prevent making the cuts too deep. I still fucked that up and made the emerald's seat too big and it took a very mighty effort to get it snugly set in there.

In the process of setting these stones i greatly marred the edges of the bezel, more so than one would expect, and had to spend multiple hours tediously fixing the dents and scraps with a rubber wheel under the microscope, making sure to be hyper aware of my positioning so as not to scratch the stone with the abrasive wheel.

After much trials I finally managed to get the stones tight and good looking without a gross amount of damage to them and took to a final polishing pass. Showed it off to my coworkers and then promptly bagged it up to give to it's recipient this weekend.

Took approx 15 hours give or take 1, most of which was fixing mistakes and decided on leaf shapes.

[cupcakeshades94]

The necessities.

∆ I want to send a deep apology to all my future children. Brown, white, or yellow. I sure have been caught in the ugliest little shorts and pajamas I will ever wear. I know what your thinking. Well sweetheart you need to smell some flowers and wake up pretty early. I proved all these beautiful fashionistas are planning these day to day outfits. If they are not than you are seriously blessed. Right sweet chops I'm trying to complement you because to look fabulous you obviously are fabulous. If not I'm here to talk about essentials. I know about all these fashion tips because of shopping and observational cues. I have been doing my own shopping for about ten years now.

• Let's start with tank tops. Please do not shy away from name branded T-shirts and tanks. I would recommend a very soft fabric like Polo. I sure would also recommend their Beverly Hills Collection. Also do not shy away from a bold red tank top. I recommend getting them in brown, tan, white, and black. I sure did own a bright purple tank top before in my High School Era. This of course was before my Apartment was raided by my immigrant family. That my dear is another topic.

• Black pants are a must. Leather is fine and expensive my dear. Try an outlet store instead of the traditional Zara. Try Nordstrom and the all traditional Marshalls. I know what your thinking. I much rather Nordstrom. I have to tell you that I found the cutest baby blue Toms there at Marshalls. Also snag a look at TJ Maxx. I would bundle up on black jeans. Try buying about five pairs of the good old black Levis jeans. If you cannot find any Levis than try a good Charlotte jean. Black has always been a color to signify death. So be careful on having so much black. Yet, a funeral outfit, is a must.

• White T-Shirt. I recommend printed whites as well. They pair well with the basic jean. Light or dark. Accompany them with more of a Jane shoe. Even the boots that yell out hippie. The color white is a good color for rebirth. It is very traditional. I also would recommend a white button down.

• Comfort Bra and Panties. I recommend the colors Tan and Black. I ain't swearing by them, but they are, the usual traditional colors. Try snagging a pink comfort bra and panties for the sake of girlhood.

• Branded socks. Try Adidas and champion. That I can swear by. For women' try a more snug feel' and men should try a more constructive feeling.

• Recognized Jewlery. Do not shy away from the old snatch of Sterling silver. I know I know. You want gold. I would recommend the site of Etsy. I love the Betsy Jewelry as well. I also recommend the Kay jewelers.

• Printed Apparel. Like the Iconic tree printed Michael Kors shirt. Very epic. I would also like to see more of these women wearing Polka Dots. Just saying.

• Black Shoes. Try one with a buckle. The dearly beloved Coach Brand can help in this.

[olliethescribe]

Oh look, it’s propaganda @tmntausummit ! The second I saw that it was gonna be a fashion show, I had to send my most fashionable lads. ***

“You’ve got the goods!”

The boombox in front of them stood proud, a sleek confidence packaged into each circuit running through it, likened to veins pumping the life-saving funk of eighties groove into its stereo heart. A Prince-inspired beat blared into the open air, taking any listeners (un)lucky enough to be caught in its radius on a one way trip to Project Runway. Well, not quite, but a fashion montage nonetheless. 

Speaking of said listeners, well…

Five minutes earlier

“Are you absolutely sure the failsafe is in place, Donatello?” The magician tsked as he looked the finished piece over.

It didn’t take much for the purple turtle to convince him that this was a good idea, something that should’ve been a sign that this wasn’t exactly the most sound thing he could agree to. Still, he gave in, primed and ready with song lyrics and melodies. Wasn’t like he’d fall victim to his own hypnosis without a proper escape plan. Wearing earplugs worked well when handling the Foot Clan, but for willingly listening to an illusion trap? Well, a brief yet sharp pinch or slap could fix that. And given how Donnie described the way things worked, it almost completely dissuaded his fears. Almost. 

“Oh, Ron, doubting me this far into the project? You wound me!” Donnie mimed a fainting motion, hand bent over his head with his elbow pointed to the heavens, leaning back before righting himself just as quickly. “But, once again, we’ll be fine. That’s a Genius Built guarantee (patent pending). Now, let us commence!”

His finger hovered over the power button as he looked to his pseudo-uncle for approval. Ron smiled at him, nodding with just a touch more confidence. 

“For science! And fashion!”

Present

“You’ve got the goods that can make me smile!”

The curtains blew open as Donnie stepped through, a full ombré suit adorning his person, his blazer starting white at the top before fading into a layer of yellow then one of orange then red. Massive sequins and rhinestones in jewel tones bedazzled the edges, shining in the bright light of the dressing room. 

He did a turn around as Ron clapped and cheered, taking his seat as his brother’s mentor got up and skipped with joy into the dressing room, the magician muttering excitedly about clothing for hippo men only existing in dream dimensions. 

Dee nearly pulled his phone out while he waited before remembering himself and where he was. So he leaned back, eyes up to the ceiling as the song that kept them there continued to play on loop, until the ceiling was suddenly gone. As were the walls when he looked around, the couch he sat upon and the dressing room Ron occupied suddenly in a much larger building. 

“Where in the name of Marie Curie are we?” 

Donnie’s question was interrupted as Ron popped out of the dressing room, posing dramatically as the curtains swooshed back to reveal him in his brand new outfit. 

A sky blue smoking jacket with gold swirls over a lilac button-down shirt and dark purple bowtie, paired with an amethyst and rhodochrosite paisley print cape clipped to his shoulders with tiny hippo-shaped epaulettes with pearl string tassels swinging for tails. Grey silk slacks held up with an hand-embroidered black leather belt adorned his lower half, a brass pocket watch dangling from the free space between belt loops. His shiny brown leather boots clicked with each step and heel turn against the tile floor, small sterling silver rabbits placed lovingly beside the playing card-shaped buckles that kept them closed. 

The purple turtle ahead of him was too busy looking around to pay him much mind. 

“What are yo-” Ron glanced up and to the side, taking a moment to register the scenery change. “Oh, Wellington Sunday… this wasn’t in the spell…”

“Uh, no duh this wasn’t in the ‘spell’!” Donnie shot a cursory glance Ron’s way, eyes focusing on movement behind the hippo magician as the dressing room itself disappeared. 

Figures in the distance steadily approached, accompanied by the echo of hard acrylic on marble. Eerily familiar features were hidden under lavish accessories. They got ever closer, closing in. 

“That’s it! I’m activating the failsafe!” Dee slammed a button on his bracer, waiting for the pinch that would get them out of this if things went south. But no pinch came. 

“I’d hazard a guess and say it hasn’t worked.” The fear edging Ron’s voice only lended to the sincerity of his question, silently cursing the fact that his razor rings had become flower crowns in this strange state of not quite sleep. 

“No, not even close.”

They traded glances as a new thought came to mind. 

“Donnie, we can make another boombox, yeah?” Ron was hesitant as he spoke, starting to understand the emotional investment Donnie put into each piece of his tech. 

The purple turtle swallowed uneasily, watching as more figures quickly appeared. There was only one option. He sighed.

“Affirmative. Do what you must.” 

A sudden rush of footsteps neared in further and further to them, forcing the two back to back as Ron considered how to go about things from there. It wouldn’t take much to rush the crowd-

“Hi! Welcome to our fashion show! You’re just in time!” 

The magician blinked at the crowd of, oh, turtles, in front of him. He nudged Donnie, hoping the terrapin teen had just heard what he had. 

“Uhh, hello? How did we get here?” Ron bent down to their level, nearly forgetting he was well over seven feet tall in his hippo form. 

The tiny representative in front of him smiled at him, a name badge with the name ‘Leo’ scrawled on it tacked to their shirt. 

“Don’t worry about it. Now, c’mon, it’s your turn on the catwalk!” This Leo motioned for the two of them to follow as the rest of crowd began to walk off, swishing and swaying as they went about their business.  

“Donnie what do you think of-”

But Donnie had skipped ahead, taking notes and samples of his surroundings with scientific curiosity, greeting other Donnies on his way to the catwalk. 

Yeah, they were gonna be there for a while. Wherever ‘there’ happened to be. 

[lukewarmcrayfish]

Part two: Saboteur x Prince.

The pocket watch felt like a still beating heart, cold and beating pressed against his thigh as the minutes droned on. He chided himself for arriving early, a mistake to be sure. With royalty, the event started when he decided to grace it with his presence. The saboteur should expect nothing less from a privileged prince.

The night was deafening and still. Every sound was funneled to his ears. The clank of armor from the knights on the other side of the wall. The September wind biting at him. He swore he could hear the chill of it as it brushed against his ears. It was certain that autumn had arrived. He heard every cicada, every locust flapping its wings. He watched a locust as it took flight with an obnoxious whirr to its wings. It perched atop the toe of his boot. He kicked his foot watching as it flew away. Behind him he heard a soft thud.

He whirled around to see the prince. His disguise was lacking. Had it been more skillfully crafted, he wouldn’t have recognized him at first glance. It was a dreadful attempt at concealing his identity for a night out, if there was any attempt made at all. A woolen cloak with a gaudy gold clasp. The cloak had an odd waxy sheen, perhaps treated by lanolin. His gloves were the same elf-green and lanolin treated. The saboteur should expect nothing less, he wouldn’t dishonor the royal tradition for even one night. The glasses didn’t help either, but they were a necessity. It seemed every heir of the kingdom had dreadful vision. Thankfully, they were simple. Sterling silver and clear, not tinted.

The prince’s tight hug parted his cloak, slightly. As the hug forced the air from the saboteur’s lungs he felt the warmth of the prince’s skin. He wore but a single layer under the cloak. A low-necked button up. Oversized and reminiscent of commoner fashion. Possibly, the only satisfactory part of his disguise. As they separated, a kiss lingered against his lips already tainted with champagne.

“I’m glad I still caught you,” the prince said. His voice was hushed and the smile on his lips was audible. “I was wrestling with the ledger. My sisters decided on a shopping spree today.”

His informant was spot on, the prince indeed was in charge of managing the royal family's finances. Perfect. The image of him sipping champagne as he inserted every receipt into the ledger was oddly humbling. Just a regular guy drinking before a date while finishing his work.

[hornworts]

Carpe Diem 90's python leather reversible vest with matching sterling silver snake buttons

[feverinfeveroutfic]

blood & chocolate

chapter thirty-one: black velvet

I awoke to a stream of gray light on the crown of Alex’s head, right upon that little plume of gray hair at the top to make it look as though it was comprised entirely of sterling silver. He had cozied down next to me with the covers pulled up to his chin and his right ear; it was right then that I began to shiver myself. Much colder in that room than I realized.

I nestled down next to him, and I put my arms around his little body. He was soft and warm, warm enough to keep me warm.

That is until he rolled onto his back; but all the while, I kept my hand on his belly just to feel his softness some more. Just to feel his warmth some more.

Still with his eyes closed, he nudged the covers down from his body to show me what he had. His waist was still holding onto that beautiful slenderness, but he was obviously filling out and growing slightly rounder there. It was as if he had the belly of a puppy. The way the sun caressed over his skin and the shape of his body. The way he kept his arms folded over his brow. He never seemed more beautiful than he was right there before me.

He cracked open his eyes and gently parted his lips. I leaned over his head and shoulders, and I nudged a curled lock of hair off his brow. He gazed up at me, those piercing blue eyes which swallowed me whole, perhaps more so than the very sight of his gray streak upon his head: I never wanted to stop looking at him. I never wanted to stop looking at his face and his head. I never wanted to stop looking at his body.

“I’ll give you like ten years to stop that,” he said to me, his voice laced with sleep, such that he cleared his throat and shifted his weight there next to me. “That feels really good.”

I let my fingers slide through his black curls; my pinky finger grazed over that gray streak, and I never realized how soft his hair felt there before then. I thought of giving him a kiss good morning, but I wanted to tempt him a little bit.

“God, you look gorgeous,” I confessed to him. “Especially here.”

“The sun feels really good on me,” he said, and he lifted his head for a better look down at his body. The light swept over his gray streak as well as the side of his neck and down onto his chest: the round, tender part of his belly looked almost delicate from the glow of the sunlight on his skin.

“I almost don’t even want to get up, if I’m being completely honest,” he said with another clearing of his throat.

“Yeah, you are just… so lush right now,” I quipped to him.

“Lush?” He raised his eyebrows at that, and he tilted his head back for a look long at me. “That’s a word I never thought I’d ever hear you say, especially not like this, either. Usually, when I think of ‘lush’, I think of someone who’s had too much to drink.”

“Or someone who drinks too much too often,” I pointed out.

“That, too.” He rubbed his eyes and groaned in his throat. He then rested his hand on his burgeoning belly and smiled to himself.

“God, I am getting so soft here,” he remarked. “It actually feels really good, too. Like… I never dreamed I would feel good here, but I do.”

“Want some breakfast?” I offered him.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” he retorted back to me.

“Depends. You wanna hear some rhetoric?”

He pursed his lips at that, and then he chuckled at that. I followed suit at that, and then I lightly tickled him on the belly before I sat upright next to him. He covered his belly with his arms and showed me a little smirk, but I had already done it.

“Do you have those leather pants in your closet still?” he asked me with yet another clearing of his throat.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I assured him, and I climbed over his legs and nearly fell down upon the floor all the while. I picked myself up and walked on over to the closet to fetch those pants in question, tucked back behind my black pants with the studs decorated along the sides and the button fly. I only wore those pants a couple of times before, and a part of me wanted to wear them again just to spite Dave and whoever came after our necks as well.

I took the leather out from hiding, right as Alex climbed out of the bed.

“Put a pin in that,” he advised me, and he walked on over to the door. I watched him go into the bathroom, and I turned back to the closet for a fresh change of clothes of my own. I returned to the closet and spotted a wide-brimmed black hat which I hadn’t worn in some months, perched upon the top of one of those old plastic containers at the back wall. I picked it out and put it on, and I proceeded with getting myself an ensemble for the day. He and I were going to be going to the one shop with the “toys” and some other goodies, so we may as well look the part as well: I kept the hat on as I changed my shirt and those studded pants. I put my socks on when Alex returned to the room with a slight glisten to his hair.

“D’you take a shower?” I asked him.

“Nah, just stuck my head under the shower itself and then gave it a good shake,” he replied as he ran his fingers through the roots. I handed him the leather pants, and he showed me that little smirk once again. He slipped on the pants, even if they were obviously rather snug at the thighs and hips; his belly hung out over the waistband of the pants like that of a well-fed young boy, and the curve of his waist was further accentuated by the gray morning light. He glanced back at me with a slight twinkle to his eye and his hands pressed to his hips.

“How do I look?” he asked me as he rested his hands on the back pockets. I looked on at the curve of his little belly as well as the snug leather on his hips and thighs, the way that the hard and firm leather accentuated the softening middle of his body, and I couldn’t help but run my tongue along my bottom lip. I momentarily took off my wide-brimmed hat and gave my hair a toss back over my shoulder.

“Hot as hell,” I replied.

“You got a shirt I can wear?”

“A leather shirt or a velvet one?” I offered him.

“Ooh. Velvet.”

I reached into the closet again for a velvet shirt that I knew would accentuate his full shape even more: the sleeves hugged his toned arms while the collar plunged low on his chest. The velvet itself stretched over his little belly just enough to show off the curvature of his body, and it helped that the fabric was the color of root beer, too.

I made a bad move in wearing those studded pants because they seemed a bit tighter than what I remembered, but I was going to wear them regardless, though.

“Now, are we going to fetch breakfast or do you wanna make it?” he asked me.

“I kinda wanna spoil you some more,” I confessed to him, and I flashed him a wink. Alex ran his fingers through his inky black hair and showed me that smirk once more.

I swiped my keys and led him out to the foggy gray morning, out to my car. I was a bit worried in that we would find Dave or Elle out there in the parking lot to get after us, but we were alone. When I unlocked the doors was when the immense struggle began.

“Man, these are tight!” he declared as he slid into the front seat. I noticed his flesh spilling out a bit from over the waistband and under the velvet, this tender little roll over his waist that looked as though it could be pinched off.

“These are kind of tight, too,” I said, and I showed him the studded pants as I climbed in next to him.

“Wow, when’s the last time you wore those?” he asked me. “I remember you wearing those when we first met each other.”

“I don’t really know, to be honest,” I replied, and I could feel myself with a muffin top as I took my spot next to him. There was something about it that made my heart skip a beat or two, the two of us with these cute decadent little muffin tops on our bodies. “I figured that if you’re going to look hot as fuck, I should join you in the feeling, too.”

He raised his eyebrows and hooded his eyes at that as if he was trying to seduce me right then and there in the front seat of my car.

“Now, where is this place you were telling me?” I asked him before he could jump to conclusions. “By the sushi place?”

“Oh, that place! Yeah, right next door.”

I wasn’t going to ask him as to how he found out about it, but I trusted him in it, especially when he walked out of there with a little black box filled with those “toys” tucked under his arm as if he was about to deliver one hell of a package. We did have one hell of a package, and something that was going to have to wait after our official breakfast as well, at the diner right across the street from there.

“Okay, let’s take these, get some food, and then get back home before anyone sees us,” he quipped as I took my key out again, and I chuckled at that. But before we could go any further, I recognized them right across the street. I had no idea if he did, however, especially since he held the box before him and looked on at the lid as if he was about to behold some kind of treasure for himself.

“Get back, get back,” I coaxed him. I rested a hand on his shoulder, still slender and spare, still finely tailored. He held the box close to his chest, and the two of us peeked around the corner together.

Dave and Elle were over there discussing something. To think that I had been led on like this, especially when I wanted to celebrate Alex and his Jewish heritage, and apparently Alex himself read my mind at that.

“She can’t get away with this,” he told me in a low voice, and he looked as though he was ready to go on after them.

“Stay with me,” I begged him.

“Hold up, hold up… there’s John,” he whispered to me. Sure enough, there was Johnny T right across the way from us with something in his hand. I hoped that he wouldn’t see us as Alex and I held further back into the shadows, away from their line of sight. He pressed his back to the wall and brought a hand to his brow, and all the while, he kept the box tucked under his arm.

“What the hell was I thinking,” he muttered to himself.

“What do you mean?” I asked him, taken aback.

“What was I thinking coming out here to get these? We’re going to get ourselves killed now. Humiliated, too, if nothing else.” He shook his head and bowed it right then, but I stood next to him with my hand still firmly pressed onto his shoulder.

“Alex… if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have discovered this side of me,” I told him. “Seriously, if I didn’t come to you with all of this, I don’t know where I’d be. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have unlocked this part of me.”

He kept his gaze fixed on the ground and his arms pressed against his chest. Maybe I was being too selfish, but it was the truth.

“I know you enjoy all of this,” I continued. “I know you feel good. I saw you checking yourself out in the windows back there and it made my heart skip a few beats.” I lowered my hand from my shoulder to his waist, to the soft little pillow coming in on the dead center of his belly. We both needed to rest. We both needed to escape as well.

“How do you think we can get out of this?” he asked me.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “But I have to think of something, though. We’ll think of something.”

“What do you think I can do once we’re out of this?”

“Live,” I coaxed him. “Live, damn it! Live with this cute little belly of yours. Live with your voracious appetite and soul. And I’ll admonish unto myself, too. We’ll both live and get out of this. We’ll run to the car and fire it up quick. Hopefully, they won’t see us.”

“Hopefully,” he echoed me in a low voice.

“We’re going to be like Butch Cassidy,” I said to him. “The last scene of that movie, anyway.”

“Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” he followed along. I adjusted the brim of my hat and let my hair fly behind my head. He glanced down at himself.

“Tight leather pants and a fat little jelly roll coming in,” he muttered. “I guess I am the Sundance Kid.”

I let go of his shoulder, and I took the key out from my front pocket.

We both had gained some weight but we could still run, though.

I led the way back to the car. I had my eye on the steering wheel as I unlocked the doors for us. We climbed inside at the same time, and Alex sank down in the seat next to me.

I turned the key in the ignition, only to be met with silence.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Alex groaned as he tucked his head underneath the edge of the window. I bowed my head and turned the key again, that time with my foot down on the brake, followed by the clutch. 

I wished I had a third leg.

“Put your foot on the gas for me,” I told him as I kept my feet pinned to the other two pedals. Alex lifted his foot and slid it down under the steering wheel for me. We were both calm as we held down the pedals in unison.

The car roared to life.

Alex let out a low whistle. I lifted the parking lever. I tapped on the gas.

Only to be met with a loud thud.

“What the hell was that,” he groaned.

“I don’t know,” I confessed to him in a low voice. “I’m afraid to find out, too.”

I put the car into reverse, and we pulled back. Alex peeked over the edge of the dashboard to find—

“Oh, shit.”

“What?” I demanded.

“You ran over Elle.”

“What!”

“You ran over Elle! She’s not over there anymore, and I think that’s her.”

“What!”

“Please stop saying ‘what.’”

I floored it, and we backed out of there and into the street again. Sure enough, I saw her body laying there where we had pulled ahead against the curb. I didn’t even know she was there given we were so fixed on starting up the car.

All I could do was put it back into forward gear once we got to the end of the block, and drive back to my place.