#and now he's passed the fuck out in a blissed-out little coma

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Sometimes I question my life choices when I'm up until 4am when I'm in my mid 30s, but not tonight. Not tonight.

[prose-for-hire]

Right on time

Pairing: Spike x reader; Faith x reader [reader dates men & women]

Request: Not requested. I’m trying to write whatever’s coming into my head even if it isn’t my best so that I can be inspired to write something potentially better for a fic someone’s requested lolll. Requests will still be written but they may be a little slower than normal sorry 💖

Desc: Reader was in a relationship with Faith but since she was in a coma the reader turned to Spike for comfort and feelings begin to grow.

Warning: Sex references; set in hospital; mention or discussion of a kind of loss. swearing.

The walls appeared to be closing in again. The noise around you lulled every so often with a sombre silence. The hollowed eyes of loss surrounded you but had no reason to look your way. They were all stuck in their own minds. A funeral march in the making.

The occasional laughter bubbled up, from those that clutched hope so desperately their knuckles were perpetually white. It didn’t feel right in this place though, it was a surreal room that held both the impending horror and delight depending on what the doctor said next. You could nearly taste it in the air it was that strong. The mixture of such strong emotions blanketed the room in a thick tension. A kind of purgatory.

You were sitting in the adjoined café to the hospital coaxing your mug to give you some answers when you didn’t even know what questions to ask. You stared into your mug, wishing it could offer you come kind of comfort. The human touch you craved just couldn’t be replicated. Her touch. It had been so long now that you had almost given up.

Faith was in a coma. The only woman you had ever fallen in love with couldn’t open her eyes. Could barely breathe on her own. She shouldn’t be lying there. She didn’t deserve that, no matter the choices she made. She didn’t deserve to end her days this way. Or any way, in your opinion.

When you had been together, just the two of you it had been so good. You redefined the meaning of love together. You were unapologetically each other’s. You promised forever and she had been taken away from you.

She had confided in you in a way that she couldn’t with anyone else. You shared hushed whispers, swapping your pasts beneath the sheets together. You had loved her when she lived out of a motel and you had loved her just the same when she lived in her apartment that the Mayor had bought for her.

She could be so soft when she wanted to be. Holding you into her and not letting the cruel world touch either of you. You were completely embraced by her adoration and you just hope that she felt the same.

That she knew that you would rather be in her place. That you loved her just as much now as you did the first day you whispered those words to her. Your skin on hers, wrapped in a sheet as the afternoon stretched out before you. It had been such bliss.

You still visited every Friday. Held her hand and told her that you love her. Spoke to her, told her everything about your life. Everything except…

Spike. He appeared before you just as your mind turned to him. As it often did, recently. You squinted, thinking he must have followed you.

This was unlike him anymore. He would usually wait around the crypt or in the alley around the back of the Bronze for you to decide the inevitable. That you would spend the night with him. Losing yourself in his touch. Fucking him until you could almost forget her. But you never did, of course.

You both knew the arrangement, don’t get attached. Don’t stay for breakfast (or dinner, should it be that way around). It suited you both. It was for comfort, you had both found yourselves increasingly isolated. On the peripheries of the Scoobies whilst still being hauled back in to help when they remembered you both existed. Still, there was no warmth from them. None of them trusted either of you.

You turned to each other, shielding from the cold. The loneliness that seeped in no matter how you tried to protect yourselves. The reality was that you needed each other. These nights were necessary. The sex was good, you both knew you couldn’t get better anywhere else.

Admittedly though, more recently you became more and more present in those moments. Where you wouldn’t leave as soon as you finished. You had been shuffling away without a word passing between you. Not so much as a thank you, come again.

No, you now didn’t even put up the pretence of going to the Bronze first. You found your way to him as soon as you could. You found yourself increasingly enjoying his presence. Which was something you hadn’t consciously found yourself feeling since Faith got hurt. Enjoyment. Maybe even happiness. In a strange way, Spike made you feel more than you could remember feeling.

One evening, you stayed up the entire night. Talking. His mind spoke to you. A connection that was fast becoming unbreakable since. Neither of you even suggested more and you hadn’t realised this until the morning came and you woke up with his arms draped around you. It was a soft intimacy that you hadn’t found yourself expecting but now it was happening you only wanted more of it.

More of him.

You hadn’t realised but Spike had been falling even before that night. He had a taste of you. Your body and mind. He saw the ugliest parts of you, the guilt and the sadness that you tried to conceal and loved you wholly.

He wanted to comfort you. Wanted to protect you from your sadness. From the guilt you held for even having a single moment of happiness when Faith no longer could.

He couldn’t help loving you, the way you spoke even in your sadness was appealing to him. You were a strong person although it was a task for him trying to get you to reveal how you truly felt.

It started to upset him, when you were upset. He found his mood lifted and fell depending on how you felt. On how you spoke about yourself. He was in love with you. All in. He was a fool for love. Or, more, a fool for you.

He so wanted you to see what he did. How he adored you so. That you were truly a gift to the world. That you were the reason he got up in the evening. On the promise of being close to you.

You kept things bottled up, held tightly to your chest. You didn’t tell him but you felt guilty, what with Faith still breathing and being involved with Spike. The doctors had told you multiple times that it would take a miracle for her to recover. That you should move on. But it was too hard letting go.

That was how you ended up here, psyching yourself up to go and join her by her bedside. Visiting hours started in less than an hour and you were still trying to convince yourself that there was still hope.

Her face, it looked almost peaceful lying in that bed but it brought you anything but peace. You knew she would rather be where the action was. Fighting and fucking in that way that only she could marry together perfectly. You could hold her hand in yours but it was often cold to match the room. You could bend it to curl around you but it never stayed.

You just wanted her to reach for you again, clasp her hand to yours and tell you that it would be okay. That she would make it out. That she could make it out of anything. Her confidence, you had loved it. She was so sure of herself and she had the same confidence in you. she was devoted to you in every way. Had near fought the Mayor over some of the comments he had made about you.

Spike spotted you immediately where you were sat hunched over your seat in the café. He stalked straight towards you, not moving out of anyone’s way. He sat down in front of you, characteristically throwing himself down and smirking as if this had all been planned. He took the mug from you and downed the remainder of the lukewarm liquid, grimacing at your choice of beverage. He slammed the mug back down, almost cracking it before sniffing and looking back at you expectantly.

“Did you follow me? You know you really shouldn’t do that to people-” You warned. You had this conversation more than once and he had mostly learned from what you had said. Or so you hoped anyway.

“I know. I wasn’t, I swear it” He said and when you raised an eyebrow he continued, “Stocking up wasn’t I?”

He pulled one half of his duster as if trying to sell you something but it revealed several concealed pockets that held blood bags. Human blood. He had come to get lunch.

This type of thing was what you had come to expect of Spike and so you just nodded and accepted it. In fact, you had begun to warm up his blood for him in the mornings when you both woke up together. He liked that you didn’t look at him in disgust for surviving. That rather you understood. He smiled at you before patting himself down again.

He took a cigarette from his pack and started to light up, forgetting where he was. You reached and took the object from him, dropping it in your cup. The dregs put the lit end out with a disappointing sizzle.

When you had leaned in, his eyes had widened. Your proximity was something he wanted more of. Those soft, familiar gestures of comfort. They meant a lot to him. Although, it wouldn’t stop him testing just how familiar he could be back to you.

“Question is, why are you? Doc said she’s gone, pet. No point making it harder on yourself” he said slowly, knowing not to push too hard. Last time he had started to press you to talk about it more you hadn’t spoken to him for a week. 

You knew what the doctor had said. But you couldn’t stop coming. You couldn’t let her go. You couldn’t leave her behind.

“I love her” You said sadly. The words stung Spike and he lowered his gaze to the table between you. His jaw tensed and he tried to blink the water from his eyes before you saw it. Your love meant too much to him. Sometimes, you wished it wasn’t true. You wish you could move on and just forget. But she had meant everything to you, even after she had joined up with the Mayor you stuck by her. You had fallen so deeply.

The way she always held you close. Kissed you until you were breathless as soon as she saw you. That smile that could light up a room. She would have died rather than see you hurt in any way. Faith loved you, you had never doubted it.

But as soon as you thought this your mind moved to Spike. In the same way, he clung to you protectively. Gave you all of his time. Would rather give up anything so that you could have even a second of happiness.

“But… I think… I think I feel the same about you” Your sentence exploded from your mouth before you could brace yourself. You hadn’t even thought them properly before you expressed these words. But, you knew that you meant it. That you adored every part of him.

You were scared though, that he may suffer the same fate as the only other person you loved. You didn’t need to explain this though, he understood.

He had gasped. Audibly. Spike was looking at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. He reached for you from across the table, his features crudely carved out of the fluorescent lighting. Yet he still managed to keep this soft expression on his face. The one that was only yours.

“I have loved you since the first I saw you. Couldn’t even begin to deny these feelings inside. I need you, near crave you at times. Nothing compares to you, pet. Nothing even comes close”

He took your hand in his from over the table as he began to offer his feelings to you. This love that he had harboured in secret for too long. This soft adoration that he could now allow to flow freely. He assured you that he was yours, in any way you wanted him.

His hand caressed yours in such a way that you could no longer imagine him letting go. This intimacy meant more than you could even begin to describe. He slowly rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand as he spoke so earnestly.

You could have cried. Could have thrown the table aside and urgently pressed your lips against his. Instead, you clasped your hand tighter, wove your fingers firmly between his. You needed this. You needed him.

He squeezed your hand tighter as you spoke, trying to shuffle your thoughts into some type of cohesion. You wanted to explain. Wanted to match the beautiful way he expressed his own emotions to you. But something had stopped you. Or, someone. It felt as if someone had a hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing your throat until no words could form.

Your eyesight began to blur. The corners of your vision turning to static. But there was something, a flicker that caught your attention.

Her. Standing there in someone else’s clothes. Paler than you remembered but still completely her.

“Faith you’re…”

“Right on time” She nodded, smiling at you. Although her eye was almost twitching as she looked at the way you were both intimately sprawled across the table. Leaning in towards each other closer as the other spoke.

You couldn’t help but get up, dropping Spike’s hand in your shock. Your vision completely enraptured by her. You were so excited you didn’t hear a British accent muttering ‘Bloody brilliant’ as he contemplated that his relationship with you had just completely changed. Again.

To have everything he had ever wanted from you now potentially ripped away in almost the same breath hurt. Deeply. And so he blamed Faith for it. 

You launched yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her so enthusiastically. She hissed a little and you moved but you were unable to part from her. You pressed a chaste kiss against her lips before laughing at how amazing it was to have her standing before you after all of this time.

They scowled at each other while your back was turned, hugging Faith more gently again. They knew exactly how the other felt about you. Because they themselves felt it.

You opened your mouth to say something but then it dawned on you. You remembered what you had just said to Spike. Suddenly this reunion was bittersweet. You loved her completely and couldn’t leave her side now. But life had moved on and you had found yourself a spirit that spoke to yours. You also loved him.

You looked between them both and time stopped. There was no choice here. You knew who your heart belonged to. It was split in two, in equal parts. Your heart - it was theirs.

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.2k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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banner designer @jamaisjoons​ 

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, fingering, t h r e e s o m e, cum eating, sloppy seconds kinda?, multiple orgasms, creampie, cumshot, nipple play, tender manhandling, overstimulation, praise, this one has me hot and bothered folks

DAY FOUR

It’s dark when you wake up, still feeling slightly floaty.  Beside you, Taehyung still snores away, naked bar for his pair of boxers and the sheets draped lazily over his torso. He looks peaceful, face angelic and chest rising and falling deeply. The sight of him almost makes you want to fall asleep then and there, but your throat is parched and your mouth is dry.

Perhaps sleeping the day away wasn’t wise, but still you dress in dim silence, padding down the stairs with bare feet and nothing more than Taehyung’s shirt - even more oversized on you - and a fresh pair of panties.

This is the first time you’ve really been out of your room at this hour, and you marvel at the enveloping stillness of the air. No lights, only the creeping moonlight to guide your way to the kitchen, eager to ease your dry mouth. The refrigerator light makes your eyes ache as you pull out a bottle of water, uncapping it with a sigh and leaning back against the countertop, gulping almost a third of it down before your brain starts to pang at the sudden cold.

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at the sudden voice, glancing up to see the round, pale face of Min Yoongi peeking over the couch. In such deeply–set quiet, you feel the need to speak lowly, just enough for him to hear. “Just woke up, actually.”

He combs through the dyed honey blonde of his hair as his eyes narrow in disbelief. “Is that Taehyung’s shirt from this morning? So that’s where the two of you have been all day. You must’ve really gone at it like rabbits, it’s almost three in the morning.”

“Jesus,” you groan. “I must’ve been asleep more than 12 hours then. I feel like I’ve woken up from a coma or something, I swear.”

“That good, huh?” he says in a teasing tone as you take another sip of water.

“Go upstairs and see for yourself if you’re so curious,” you retort.

Yoongi stays silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is different. Softer. “Come sit.”

You obey silently, a little huff forced out of your lungs when you drop onto the couch beside him, cradling the bottle of water between your knees as you wait for him to say something, explain why he’d asked you over.

The blonde-haired man scoffs softly, nudging your shoulder. “Come on, I’m not telling you off or anything. If you want to go, you can go, but I thought you might like some company.”

The air is warmer here beside him. “I’ll stay,” you answer quietly.

“Three days,” he muses, his voice bringing colour to the dark room. “Why does it feel like weeks?”

You hum, unable to think of a reply that would comfort him. “What would you have been doing if you weren’t here right now?”

Yoongi’s legs are crossed, much like how Jimin always sits, but it gives off a far more casual vibe as he slumps, butt resting almost right on the edge of the cushion. “I’d probably still be up. I’d just be up alone.”

“Night owl?” you question, tucking one foot up under you so you can face him more.

“Lonely,” he answers simply, eyes focused on the table in front of him.

You don’t know what to say. Luckily, it seems like he’s not finished, but just taking a pause to collect his thoughts. You’ve been noticing that Yoongi seems like the type to mean every word he says, and consider each one carefully.

“I thought I‌ was picking a career filled with people,” he elaborates, voice flickering low like a single flame. “I guess in some ways, both health practitioning and teaching are fairly sociable jobs. But I rarely see the same person twice. There was a time when I thought I preferred it like that. I’ve never been a social butterfly like some of the guys here. But after a few years, you just feel so hollowed out by it.”

You let his words sink in for a moment, head resting on the back of the couch. “And now?”

“Now?” he repeats with a frown.

“Are you still lonely now?”

He attempts a smile. “I can’t decide.”

You frown at his sullen tone. “We all love having you here, you know? Seokjin really appreciates your help in the kitchen, the two youngest both adore you, Namjoon respects you so much and I’m pretty sure Hoseok and Jimin would’ve had a catfight in the living room if it wasn’t for your level-headedness.”

Yoongi brightens a little bit, just enough for his lips to twitch, genuinely this time. Slowly, his eyes slide over to meet yours. “And you?”

You slip the tip of your tongue out enough to wet your lips. “I- If it’s okay, I’d rather show you my appreciation.”

His eyes are molten as they search your face for any signs of hesitation. When they find none, he uncrosses his legs, splaying them apart, and leans over to press lightly at your shoulder. “Lean back,” he instructs, the soft tone replaced with a casual roughness that he usually spoke with.

You swallow, letting the water bottle between your legs fall to the floor as you lie back, head resting against the arm of the couch.

Yoongi looks down at you, distaste flitting across his features. Your heart stops for a moment before he reaches out to tug at the hem of your baggy shirt. Tae‘s baggy shirt. “Take this off,” he orders with a grumble.

You ditch it hastily, wanting Yoongi’s hands on you, and shiver at the sudden cold, lying beneath him in nothing but your panties. “Yoongi,” you whisper, back arching as an incentive for him to touch you.

Reverently, a wide hand dips down, fingertips running over your shoulder, your bare chest and stomach, and back up to cup your breast, squeezing just enough to make you sigh, wanting more. As he fondles it, Yoongi adjusts his stance, hooking one leg between you and the back of the couch, propping himself up with his other arm so that he can lean down over you.

Rather than kissing you straight away, he watches your face with a look like hunger, drinking in your every reaction as his fingers slip up to pass over the stiffened peak, thumbing it so it continues to plump up.

You let out a breathy moan, tipping your chin up towards him. The hand on your breast slips up to cup your face, big enough that the tips of his fingers dip into your hair. It’s overwhelming; his legs on either side of you, and your face cradled in his tender grasp, bracketed between the back of the couch and his arm. Finally, his face lowers enough for his lips to brush yours, and your eyes slip closed in bliss.

This close, every breath is lined with his scent, rich yet tangy like mint and caramel, a juxtaposition that suits him perfectly. His lips on yours are like fine silk, brushing so lightly that you tremble at the intimacy of it. Every movement is painfully precise, languid. His fingers gently play with your hair like he can’t quite keep them still, but his lips take their time with you. The two of you are in your own world, alone to savour every delicate touch. No one else is awake, so you let the butterflies in your stomach grow and the flutter on your lips continue, hands wandering lower to where his shirt - a white tee with the letters FG stamped in black on the front - is slightly tucked into a pair of plaid boxer shorts. He sighs heavily onto your lips when your fingers first touch his skin, tracing a line just above the waistband.

“You have no idea,” he confesses in a hush, “how long I’ve waited to feel you.”

You gasp when his head dips lower, lips brushing your ear, your jaw, down your throat to press a trail of chaste kisses along the base of your throat, his tongue darting out to flick kitten licks over your pulse point. “Yoongi,” you sigh, “you don’t have to wait any longer.”

“Y/n?”

Yoongi groans at the distant voice that breaks the silence. “Please just ignore it,” he mutters under his breath. “He’ll be fine.”

You bite your lip, ears straining to work out where Taehyung’s voice came from. It sounds like he’s upstairs, the sound lofty.

There’s only a moment of silence, Yoongi nudging your jaw with his nose to tip it back again, kisses slightly more insistent down the column of your throat, before you hear a thud.

“Y/n?” Taehyung repeats, voice calling out slightly louder into the dark of the house. “Did you go downstairs?”

Yoongi lets out a rushed exhale. “Fuck.” Sitting up off of you, he reaches down to pass you Tae’s shirt off the floor. Yoongi’s jaw ticks as you put it back on. “Just tell him you’re busy.”

You send him a look, before stepping up and out into the kitchen, taking the water bottle with you. “Down here, Tae,” you reply. His response is given in the noisy thuds of him coming down the stairs, and soon enough his face pops around the corner, brightening when he sees you.

“I woke up alone,” he says with a playful pout, hands finding your waist to press your bodies together, rocking the two of you back and forth. “Come back to bed.”

You force yourself not to glance over at the couch, feeling strangely guilty. Instead, you smile at Taehyung. “We slept all day. I feel too awake now.”

“Then let’s try out your bath! I saw some bath bombs there. Or we can make bubbles?”

You think you hear a faint huff in the living room but you ignore it, letting yourself be anchored in the slow swaying, looking up at Taehyung. “I’m sorry, Tae, I’m not really in the mood. You can have one, if you want? I don’t mind.”

“But then that’s not…” You see the wheels turning in Taehyung’s head, an excited smile tugging at his lips. “Are you sure? Thank you, Y/n! Come join me if you want!”

He pulls away from you, and an odd stir of relief stirs in your chest. “Have fun,” you say weakly, and he ducks his head to press a kiss on your forehead before turning back the way he came, jumping noisily up the stairs.

In the living room, Yoongi’s head once again pops up over the back of the couch. “Coast is clear?” he questions in a joking tone, but you can’t muster a smile. Yoongi stands up, brows furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

You sink back against the counter, staring sullenly at the half-empty water bottle in your hands. “Why do I feel like an asshole, Yoongi?”

He’s beside you quicker than you expect, hands gently pressing under your jaw to lift your gaze up to his. “Hey, hey,” he coos gently, eyes warm with reassurance, “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”

You hate the way your eyes water, but you can’t help it. His thumbs are on your cheeks, brushing away the tears as they fall, and you tip your head back in an effort to prevent them, taking a shuddering breath. “I‌ feel so bad for them, Yoongi?”

“For who?”

You sniff. “Namjoon and Tae. The other day, Namjoon told me he- that he-”

“Shh, I‌ know, he told us,” Yoongi murmurs, his own eyes glistening at the sight of you in tears. “Keep going, sweetheart.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, trying to still your thudding heart. “But he likes me and now Tae is… I don’t know, but I’m worried that he might too, and then… Then I’m the asshole for sleeping with seven people at once.” You shrug with a bitter, teary laugh. “How can I act all coupley with Tae or try anything like that with Namjoonie when I know that I‌ can’t promise them anything?”

Yoongi’s lips part, moving silently as he seeks the right words. After a moment, he sighs, cupping your face one last time before lowering his hands, one rubbing at your back, making you sigh at the comfort. “I’ll be honest, Y/n,” he begins slowly, “I know all there is to know about sex physically, but- In this case, I don’t think I’m the right person to give you advice.”

“It’s okay,” you mumble, wiping your eyes and sniffing to clear your nose.

“No, no, I think you should chat with someone about this, and if I’m honest, I could use some advice too.” You give him a frown of confusion, and he grimaces with a sheepish grin. “When Taehyung called out for you, I’ll admit I wanted to beat that brat for interrupting us when he’d already had his turn. But I shouldn’t think of him or you that way, it’s not healthy. I think perhaps you and I should go upstairs and talk to Seokjin-hyung, Y/n. Do you think you’d want that?”

“He’s probably asleep,” you deflect, though you can’t deny that you could do with an expert opinion at a time like this.

“Probably,” Yoongi agrees lightly, pressing on your back to begin guiding you towards the stairs, “but I think he’d much rather you wake him up than agonise over it for hours while he sleeps.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay, I’d like to go see him. Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” His hand slips into yours as he leads you up the stairs, but rather than anything with deeper meaning, it just speaks of comfort, a squeeze of reassurance as he knocks on Jin’s door, across the hall from yours.

Jin answers after the fourth knock, squinting into the hallway with a yawn. “Jungkook, for the last time, I- Oh.” The annoyance on his face drops, eyes widening with concern even as he blinks slowly, still half-asleep. “Is everything okay?”

“Can we come in, hyung?” Yoongi asks instead. “Some emergency midnight counselling?”

“It’s-” Jin breaks off to look back into his room, groaning at the time. You wince, bracing yourself for a scolding. “Almost five in the morning. I once had a baker schedule weekly sessions for three a.m. before he went to work, this is nothing. Come inside and make yourselves comfy.”

Your shoulders go slack with relief, letting yourself be pulled inside by your still-entwined hands.

Jin’s room is tidy but lived in; the floors are clean of stray clothes or other belongings, but the head of his bed is laden with different sized stuffed toys and the sweet smell of french pear fills the air from a diffuser resting on the window sill. You sit cross-legged and lean against the headboard, grabbing a round white plushie to hug for emotional support. Yoongi sits at the foot of the bed, and Jin comes and tugs on a dressing gown, perfectly spaced between the two of you as he takes a seat in the middle, legs stretched out across the width of the bed.

“Now,” Jin begins softly, and with that one word you feel yourself safe under his authority, cared for. His relaxed but introspective posture, the non-judgemental warmth on his face and the inviting guidance of his tone combine together to ease the tension in your chest. You send Yoongi a quick glance of gratitude, and he smiles back. “I want to begin,” Jin continues, “by reassuring the two of you that you’re both safe, and there’s no time pressure here. No emergency. Whatever problems you’re having, let’s work through them together. I’d love to say this is entirely confidential, however-” Jin breaks off to wordlessly gesture at the blinking red light of the camera aimed towards the bed. “But, it will be kept confidential between us and not spread to the other members of the house. Who would like to explain what’s going on?”

You nod your chin at Yoongi, and he laughs softly, sitting up. “Alright then. The issue of jealousy is beginning to rear its ugly head. Y/n is feeling guilty about it, and I admit I’m not completely innocent of feeling a bit jealous myself.”

“Jealous? How so?”

“Well, look where we are,” Yoongi explains rhetorically. “Y/n’s here to have sex with seven different guys in close proximity. It seems some of the others have begun to get intimacy and romance in the equation.”

You pipe up, clutching the soft toy for comfort. “How am I supposed to reciprocate anything like that when I know I’m going to turn around and let six other guys have a go too?”

Yoongi winces at the wording. “Which is where my issue comes into play. I don’t want to think this way, like we’re all taking our turn with Y/n, because she’s not an object, but at the same time it’s hard to not feel that possessiveness.”

Jin nods, mulling it over for a few moments. “If it becomes a bigger problem, I think we’d be better off discussing it as eight, or however many of us are still in the house. It’s entirely natural to feel romantic inclinations, or possessive inclinations, or guilt over dealing with the two,” he directs the latter at you, “but of course conflict and guilt should be avoided, and in this situation we have to be careful that we monitor our emotions well. Y/n; what is your thought process when you begin to feel guilty?”

You bite your lip, leaning your head back against the headboard with a shrug. “I don’t know, it’s like… It feels wrong to act couple-y or seek out anything romantic with any of you guys because I know I can’t be loyal or commit to being exclusive. But I also can’t stop people from feeling that way. So I don’t know what to do. I’m like- I’m quite literally sleeping with the competition.”

“Okay,” Jin responds smoothly, nodding in thought. “Are you worried about feeling romantic inclinations for members in the house?”

“But then it wouldn’t be fair to the rest who are still trying to do their best in the game,” you point out.

The therapist just smiles softly. “That wasn’t the question I asked.”

Cheeks burning, you stare at the blanket underneath you. You can’t look at either of them. “…Not yet,” you admit honestly, “but honestly, yeah, I’m worried I might.” You glance up again, seeking out Jin’s gaze pleadingly, needing advice. “And what if I liked multiple people? Then they’d be directly competing against each other. It’s messy.”

“We don’t-” It’s Yoongi that speaks up, cutting himself off with a sigh. Jin nods at him to continue after he pauses in uncertainty. Yoongi scratches at his neck self-consciously. “I don’t think we’re all taking this insanely seriously and personally. Sometimes I walk in on Taehyung and Jungkook sharing porn, or Jin-hyung and Hoseok giggling away like two scheming toddlers as they try and make pancakes shaped like dicks.” Jin’s ears go flaming red at this, but he doesn’t interrupt. “We’re all well aware of how crazy this is. Yeah, maybe sometimes we feel a bit possessive over you, or competitive, but on a rational level we aren’t acting like we’re at war, you know? We don’t necessarily… have to be in direct competition.”

Jin gives him another moment in case he has anything else to add, before sending him an appreciative smile. “Very well said, Yoongi. I think as long as we’re all communicative when those issues like jealousy do arise, it won’t cause any major conflicts. Does that bring you any comfort, Y/n?”

You realise once he says your name that your eyes have stopped watering and your chest has stopped thudding so sickly. “Yeah,” you answer honestly, “it does. Thank you, guys. Though I guess- Well, even if you aren’t taking it as seriously as the Olympics, you are still competing against each other. Even if it’s just friendly fire, I’m still torn in the middle.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Yoongi shoots back earnestly.

“How does it not?” you question with a frown.

The two older men share a glance, Jin giving the slightest nod before Yoongi turns back to you. “Producer Sejin said it didn’t have to be one-on-one. If you’d like, we could show you that we can work together.”

“If you’d like,” Jin purrs, a hand reaching out to gently clasp your knee, “we could share.”

“Share me?” you ask weakly. The two of them nod, Yoongi looking nervous, Jin at-ease. “Yes, please.”

“So polite,” Jin says with a teasing smile. “Do you want to go give Yoongi a kiss for me, baby?”

Though it’s a command more than a question, you nod, and toss the stuffed toy aside, crawling forward, over Jin’s outstretched legs to where Yoongi sits, cross-legged like you were. A guiding hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in to straddle him, and you feel a thin bolt of excitement run up your core as Yoongi tilts his head back to look up at you, his honeyed locks falling to either side of his head. He’s beautiful, from this angle; lips so delicate and pink like a cherub, but with a blazing need swirling in his blown pupils. And though you can’t see him from this angle, Jin’s eyes feel like a hot brand on your back, making you shudder.

You link your wrists behind his neck and dip your head down, eyes slipping closed as you finally feel the pressure of his lips rising to greet you. Yoongi’s kisses are still soft and gentle, but the third presence in the room has lit a fire under the both of you, and each movement feels deeper, greedier.

Yoongi’s hand finds your ass as you make out, and he presses you in towards him, encouraging you to grind against him. Still in nothing more than Taehyung’s shirt and a pair of panties, you can feel him achingly hot and hard against you, stiff in the confines of his boxers.

Expecting to hear Jin speak up with praise or teasing words, you jump when instead it’s his hand sweeping back your hair that he begins with, collecting it in a handheld ponytail, tugging just slightly and exposing your neck. You let out a breathy moan into Yoongi’s mouth when you feel plush lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, fingers pushing the wide neck of Taehyung’s shirt to one side, exposing a shoulder. Jin methodically, languidly, places a chain of kisses down your throat and the top of your shoulder. Unlike Yoongi’s butterfly kisses, Jin’s touch is all teeth and tongue, making you feel dizzy with desire.

You whimper at the loss of Jin’s mouth on you, followed quickly by Yoongi pulling away, and your head spins. It’s only a moment, though, before you feel a set of hands finding the bottom of your shirt, the other set unlinking your arms from around Yoongi’s neck, holding them up so Jin can pull the fabric up and over your head, discarding it and running his palms on every inch of bare skin he can see.

Your head lolls back and eyes shut in bliss at the feeling of Jin’s slightly-rough palms stroking your hips, back, shoulders, and you feel him shuffle forward on his knees until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath on the nape of your neck. You bite your lip when he grips your hips, holding you steady.

Your breath catches in anticipation, and suddenly there’s a wet heat around your right nipple. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling of Yoongi’s mouth on you, tongue flicking endlessly over the stiffened peak. “Oh- oh god,” you gasp out, trying to grind your hips against him for some friction, but Jin’s hands hold you in place.

Jin shuffles closer again, and you feel a hand slip round to your front, pressing on your lower chest to pull you backwards, and you whine, not wanting to separate from Yoongi’s mouth, but he leans forward with you, sucking and lapping at your nipple as you fall back onto Jin’s chest, that same hand holding you steady against him as the other one traces lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

You jump when the tip of his finger first grazes against your clit, eyes opening to look down. Yoongi’s head takes up most of your vision, bobbing obscenely as he lavishes attention on your nipple, taking a moment to wet his fingers so he can flick and rub at your other one. Your chest heaves with his attention, pleasure so sharp it cuts into you. Below that, your legs are spread wide over Yoongi’s lap, your panties bulging with the presence of Jin’s hand. As you watch deliriously, he dips down and slips a finger deep inside you, the angle allowing him to grind the heel of his palm against your clit and stroke your g-spot from inside you at the same time.

You pant, toes curling when Yoongi switches nipples, his mouth enveloping your left peak and leaving the right one glossy with spit and reddened. It’s intoxicating, being between them like this, and you feel your hips begin to jerk against Jin’s hand as an orgasm builds surprisingly fast.

“Are you gonna cum like this?” Jin murmurs, and you nod hastily, choking on your ‘yes’ as Yoongi pulls away slightly, keeping your nipple trapped between his teeth so it’s tugged. “Fuck, she likes that,” Jin comments darkly, and you cry when he yanks at the hair in his hand again, pulling your head to one side so he can descend upon your neck, bites and sucks aggressive enough to make you feel like you’re being devoured.

Being pinned between two relentless sources of pleasure is enough to make your thighs tremble, and your first orgasm is almost silent, given away only by your rushed gasps and the sudden flood of wetness that coats Jin’s hand, the older man cursing as he strokes you harder, letting you ride out the high until you go lax. Post-orgasm, your nipples are too sensitive and you squeak, writhing under Yoongi’s ministrations until Jin pulls the hand from your panties and pushes Yoongi away with it.

Yoongi’s head comes up, and you moan gutturally at the fucked-out look in his eyes. Now that Jin’s hand isn’t in the way, you can again feel Yoongi’s hardness against your clothed core; he must’ve been able to feel Jin’s knuckles rubbing against him with your proximity. Jin’s hand is still hovering in the air between you and, keeping his eyes locked on yours, Yoongi leans in and captures two of Jin’s fingers in his mouth, lips pursed obscenely around the slightly crooked digits as he sucks your arousal off Jin’s hand, the older man groaning behind you as Yoongi thoroughly licks off every finger, swapping his gaze between you and Jin.

“Fuck,” you pant, “you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

Jin chuckles, pressing a final kiss to your neck, which you have no doubt will be covered in vibrant blossoms of colour in a few hours. “Let’s get these panties off, hm? If Yoongi gets any harder, he might run out of blood in his head and pass out on us.”

“Shut up,” the younger man grumbles, but once you get up off his lap he’s flinging his shirt off and pushing down his boxers, no self-consciousness as his flushed cock springs up and smacks against his lower abdomen. Your mouth waters, letting Jin shuck off his own pyjamas before slipping down your panties, a hand lazily swiping over your wet heat.

“Turn around, baby,”‌ Jin commands softly. “Let Yoongi have you first.”

You swallow as you obey, shifting so that you’re facing Jin, back arched to present yourself to Yoongi. He curses lowly, but wastes no time in lining himself up, a palm on your ass to guide you down on his cock, stretching your walls in smooth increments. He gradually thrusts deeper and deeper, slow enough for you to adjust, until you feel him bottom out, less girthy than Jin or Taehyung but more curved inside you, making your mouth hang open.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Yoongi praises. “Fucking finally.”

You giggle at his desperation, but your grin is fucked from your face with a thrust that knocks you forward, face smacking on the mattress, a moan pulled from your lungs as he rolls his hips, grinding deeper.

“Poor baby,” Jin teases. “C’mere.” You whine as Yoongi stills inside of you, giving Jin a chance to lift you up under the arms, wrapping them around his broad shoulders. Upper torso lifted, your hips are now at a different angle and you cry out when Yoongi begins to thrust again, the underside of his cock now dragging against your g-spot with every movement. Jin lets you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, weakly sucking a hickey into his neck to make him groan, his throat vibrating under your lips.

Soon, though, you don’t even have the energy to do that. As Yoongi picks up speed, you’re rocked violently between two hard bodies, drooling onto Jin’s neck as his hand snakes down to thumb at your clit. You cry out, shuddering as much as you can between them.

Yoongi curses and grips your hips when you clench around him, holding you still so he can increase his pace even more, a low moan rumbling in his throat. “I’m not gonna last long,” he warns. “Can I come inside you, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you cry, nails scratching at Jin’s bare shoulders as he swaps his thumb out for three fingers, rubbing them back and forth frantically in an effort to get you to cum. “Yes, fuck, I’m so close, don’t stop!”

This time, when you reach your high, you can’t stop moaning, the sound muffled by Jin’s shoulder as you’re pinned between the two men, Yoongi grunting as he spills, hot inside you.

You’re still riding the high of your orgasm when he pulls out, and your head spins, incoherent as you’re moved around, and before you know it, a thicker cock is being plunged into you, fucking you into oversensitivity.

As your orgasm fades, so does the fog in your mind and you become aware of the fact that the body you’re now propped up against is Yoongi, his hand in your hair and his teeth on your earlobe, tugging lightly and mumbling praises into your ear as Jin takes you from behind, filling the room with the sounds of skin impacting on skin. Unlike Yoongi’s slender, structured dick, Jin’s cock is a blunt instrument, hitting deep enough inside you that you feel him near your cervix.

“Tuh-too much,” you whine as Yoongi’s free hand snakes down, rubbing at your clit in a perfect mirror of your earlier position.

“Jin-hyung wants to feel you cum too, sweetheart,” Yoongi murmurs in your ear, voice dripping with honey, “don’t be selfish now.”

You keen, eyes tearing up at the excess sensation, Jin’s thrusts enough force to push Yoongi slightly too. Your hands curl around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough that he winces, but speeds up his fingers nonetheless, making you squeal. “I c-can’t,” you gasp, legs giving out.

Jin groans and you feel his arms snake under your hips, lifting you up and fucking you back onto his cock with every thrust forward. Your weight is held up by the two of them, tears streaming as you’re forcefully brought to your high a third time.

“Do we need to stop?” Yoongi asks lowly, and you feel Jin’s hips slow, Yoongi’s fingers sliding wetly over your lower stomach instead of your clit. The lack of sensation all of a sudden just makes you sob harder, shaking your head.

“Make me cum,” you plead shakily. “Wan- wanna cum for Seokjinnie.”

Behind you, Jin growls, his hands tightening, gripping handfuls of your hips as he starts up again. “Good girl,” he praises gruffly, “cum one more time for us.”

The time they stopped was apparently enough for your body to recover, because as he returns to his prior bruising pace and Yoongi strums roughly at your clit, the sting of overstimulation is gone, replaced by throbbing need. “Close, Yoongi,” you babble, writhing in the boys’ grip.

“That’s it, sweetheart, make a mess all over Jin-hyung’s cock.”

With that, you’re pitched into an orgasm so intense, it’s almost painful. You feel like your nerves are electric, making your limbs convulse. Unable to stop shaking, you clutch at Yoongi as Jin pulls out, giving your tired body reprieve. You whine when Yoongi leans you back, lying you down on the bed softly, and moments later, hot stripes of cum land on your heaving chest, Jin cursing under his breath.

The two of you gasp, unable to suck in enough breath to fill your thirsty lungs, but Yoongi, who came first, is already fully recovered. You shiver, letting out a groan as he leans down with a cat-like grin, lapping at the cum over your breasts.

“You’re fucking filthy,” Jin pants out, but continues to stroke himself slowly, managing to produce a few more drops of cum for Yoongi to lick up.

The blonde-haired boy leaves your nipples for last, grinning around each peak as you whimper, clutching his hair. Finally, once he’s done, he lifts his face up and kisses you once, deeply, so that you can taste yourself and Jin on his tongue.

“Holy fucking shit,” you exclaim breathlessly, “this show is going to kill me.”

Apparently back to his normal self, Jin pats your cheek teasingly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

You roll your head to the side, partly to escape his hand and partly to glance at the clock on his nightstand. Seven in the morning. You swear. “Fine, it may not kill me but it’ll definitely obliterate my sleep schedule.”

Jin considers this. “Fair,” he concedes. “If it helps, I’ll wake you up in a few hours so you can just call it a nap. And then we can all have a shower.”

“I am not waiting a couple hours to have a shower, thank you very much,” Yoongi huffs, pushing himself up to stand. “I have to brush my fucking teeth.”

“Hey!” the two of you cry in unison.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but a grin tugs at his lips nonetheless. “You should just be grateful I cleaned you up.”

Jin stares as Yoongi hastily slips back into his discarded pyjamas. “I’ll be sure to call you over next time I masturbate, then.”

Yoongi shoots him a dirty look. “Thanks for the fuck and the counselling,” he spits before darting out the door, slamming it behind him decisively.

Jin lets out a dramatic exhale, throwing himself on the bed so he’s lying beside you. “Men these days,” he muses sadly. “Lick up your cum once then act like they don’t know you.”

Despite your bone-deep exhaustion, you snicker along with him, feeling lighter than a cloud. “Thank you,” you say after the laughter dies down.

“For the…the sex or the counselling?”

You turn your head, glancing at him sidelong. “Would it be bad if I said just the sex?”

“Hey!”

“For both, Seokjinnie,” you say with a smile. “And for everything else, too.”

“Like what?” he asks suspiciously, chest puffing in anticipation of praise.

You hum happily, wriggling until you feel comfortable and your eyes slip shut. “Thank you for letting me nap in your bed.”

Jin huffs, but after a few moments, you feel him shift, leaning over you so he can flip the bottom edge of the duvet up and cover you. “Sleep well, little one.”

—

True to word, Jin wakes you shortly before midday, and makes sure the coast is clear so you can stumble across the hall to your room. Taehyung has luckily left by then, though a pool of bubbles rest in the tub. You try not to let the pang in your heart get to you, choosing to shower instead.

With Jin having kept you company, it’s Yoongi who’s manning the kitchen, running it like a military camp. 

Taking mercy on your exhausted body, Yoongi lets you sit on the couch, watching their antics from the comfort of the soft leather. 

“What the fuck are you doing with that grater, Namjoon?”

You grin at the bewildered look on Namjoon’s face as he looks up at his elder, holding a box grater with both hands as a potato wobbles on the bench beneath it. “You said to grate the potato,” the academic defends weakly.

“You- I-” Yoongi splutters, abandoning the pan he’s heating up to go snatch the metal contraption off Namjoon. “You rest it on the table like this, and then grate the potato against it. Please hurry; we need three big ones to go into the batter mix for the pancakes.”

To the left, both Jungkook and Taehyung are on drink duty, hovering over a sleek shiny machine on the countertop like apes discovering fire. 

“Woah, hyung, the water comes from there,” Jungkook gasps, poking at a canister behind the machine. “And then you put the pod in and it becomes coffee. Isn’t that magic?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, leaning in so his face is directly in front of the machine, where a steady stream of coffee fills a cup below. “But how did it get the coffee out of the pod? Does the machine open it?”

“Maybe it dissolves,” Jungkook muses, and the two coo at it, staring in wonder as the stream tapers off. 

“Let’s do another,” Taehyung cheers excitedly, the two boys jumping in unison when Yoongi calls out.

“You’ve made ten cups,” Yoongi snaps, wrist flicking gracefully as he flips a small potato-and-zucchini pancake in the pan. “There are only eight of us, and you don’t even know who likes to drink coffee.”

“I’ll drink them, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook pouts, eyes wide like a doe.

“You’re one of the ones that doesn’t drink- Nevermind, fine, go ahead.” He turns back to his pan, slipping the pancake out onto a paper towel and pours more batter in. 

Amongst the chaos, almost blending into the stainless steel refrigerator with his steel grey sweater, Jimin watches a pot of ramen with a desolate expression. 

By the time Jin comes down and Hoseok returns from his stint in the confessional booth, the rest of you are at the table, fingers itching from the urge to dig in. They wash their hands quickly and join you at the table, allowing the food to be doled out onto plates and the conversation to flow again. 

Sitting between Jungkook and Jimin, you take a sip of your second cup of coffee, courtesy of the drinks crew. Since most of them had gone cold by the time the coffee-drinkers finished their first cup, Jimin had taken the initiative to add ice and some milk to one, enjoying it as a cafe au lait, and you’d all followed suit, enjoying a refreshing drink with a hot lunch. 

“How’s your week been going?” Jimin asks, and you’d be shocked at the small talk were it not for the intense look in his eyes. He’s feeling you out, appraising you just like yesterday with Taehyung.

You sit your drink back on its coaster, leaning back and letting your eyes wander over the other participants. “Eventful,” you say rhetorically, sending a grin over at him as his mouth twitches down, unimpressed. “Sorry, that’s a no-brainer. A lot of them so far have really surprised me.”

“Who?” he questions, and you can’t help but hold back a sigh. He frowns, surprised at your sullen reaction. 

“Listen, Jimin,” you say slowly, appreciating the bubbly chatter that keeps your conversation private, “I appreciate your dedication to this, but we don’t always have to talk sex and competition, you know? Can we have a genuine conversation? I really want to get to know you.”

His eyes drop, face falling. It’s the first sign of what’s behind the facade, and you want to see more. When he looks up again, he’s sporting a rueful smile and you marvel at how boyish his face looks, how innocent. “Sorry. Work-mode. I think I’m… I’m starting to realise that I maybe don’t have to be on all the time. At least, not around you guys.” His eye twinkles. “I’m sure I’ll slip up from time to time and go back into it. Feel free to tell me if I’m being an asshole.”

You mock-pout, letting out a whine. “Well, I can’t say it now, because you’re not being an asshole.”

“Save it for a rainy day, then,” he remarks coolly, and you’d think he was back in his persona again were it not for the grin still on his face.

“Looks like we’ll be getting one soon enough,” you muse. “Namjoon says it’s raining all weekend.”

Jimin laughs, and the sound is like the tinkling of wind-chimes, airy and melodic. “I’m sure Namjoon isn’t too happy about that.”

“No, he seemed pretty-” You cut yourself off, staring hard at Jimin. “Why do you say it like that? Is his prompt the pool or something?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Well, you better hurry up, then,” you quip, “because Yoongi just plead the fourth.”

Jimin’s mouth drops open. “Normally I’m the one making clever entendres. I’m impressed.”

“So was he.”

When Jimin laughs this time, it’s loud enough to catch the attention of the table, everyone’s conversation halts, six sets of wide eyes on the intimidating Park Jimin, cheeks plumped and eyes crinkled as he positively giggles, freezing once he notices the attention.

“Goodness,” Jin remarks, “four days in and you’ve already broken him. He’ll be a sub by Week Three.”

Like a switch had been pulled, Jimin straightens his spine, head tilting to the side so he can level a piercing stare at his elder. “If I were you, I wouldn’t assume you’d still be there to see it.”

The table goes quiet in shock, waiting for Jin’s reaction. He simply shrugs and laughs softly, unruffled by the peacock show. “If I get voted off I can easily watch from home, Jimin. Maybe send in a question for the confessional. I bet you’d miss me.”

Like he’s realised Jin isn’t going to attack him, Jimin relaxes, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. “I’m not sure about you, but I’d definitely miss your excellent cooking.”

Jin’s ears go pink with the praise but from the head of the table, Yoongi’s mouth drops open, chopsticks going slack in his grasp. “Hey, you little brat, I’m the one that made this lunch for you all. Aren’t you gonna miss me?”

“Oh, that’s because you won’t go home before Week 3,” Jimin answers without missing the beat, a sugar-sweet smile on his rosy lips.

Yoongi’s mouth moves, but he has nothing to grumble about. Jimin 1, Yoongi 0. “Of course, I won’t,” he huffs quietly, stuffing his face with a chunk of fried pancake. 

The conversation trickles back in, then, and Taehyung pulls you and Jimin into a discussion about a stray dog he’d seen wandering around, and as the eight of you sit around the table chatting long after your plates are empty, your chest feels lighter than ever.

TAGLIST

Due to problems tagging people in the main post, all the tags will be in the comments of the post. 

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ♡ 

[request: i was thinking in Pietro Maximoff,the one of the Avengers Something like being an Avenger and secretly loving him,but being to shy and insecure And maybe could involve baking with Nat and Wanda for him because he just woke up from coma ? (Yea,he is not dead for me )]

thank you so much @pilindielofgondor  ♡ and sorry for being late, school’s a bitch ᵘʷᵘ

after the sokovian accident, you were the one who noticed pietro’s bloody, wounded body; you were the one who held him, trying to cover all the bleeding bruises.

“you’re not gonna die, please don’t die on me” you muttered, eyes heavy with hot tears, yelling out for help. using your power, the ability of controlling fire and ice, you tried to soothe the pain on the different places of his body. 

“y/n, you... is this you?” you barely heard his voice, only a soft grunt as he fought for his life. “it hurts so much...” as he spoke, a little blood overbrimed onto his sea-blue suit. trying not to force more the pain, you shushed him. his pupils dilated and narrowed, like his soul danced on the edge of life and death. no, no death, not today. not until you’re here. 

“pietro, please... you need to calm yourself, breath, slowly... like i do, okay?” he don’t nodded, but following your steady ex-and inhalations, the ambulance arrived fast. 

you don’t wanted to leave him, if he dies in the hospital, he gotta know that you love him, with your whole heart. even if you never did or said anything that reassures that fact. even if you seemed like sometimes you are annoyed because of him –but truly, you were so insecure around him that your breath hitched, voice becoming a little bit higher than usual. 

wanda often listened to you, all to the long monologues and sentences about what you felt for pietro, or that you even were irritated by your own behaviour. 

and yes, maybe the only solution was the right-in-the-face-confession, but this was not you. you don’t even spoke normally in his company, standing in front of him, saying things like “i just realized i love you so much that i would die for you right now”... hell, never! 

to him, you always just another member of the avengers. another brilliant, but silent, professional hero. but nothing more, not a friend, mainly not his soon-to-be-girlfriend.

on the way back home, wanda held your hand, your mind spinned around pietro, feeling little needles piercing your skin, your heart –”don’t worry, he’s gonna be alright. he never dies, especially when i want to.” but in this moment, she’s just as scared as you. 

“you like pietro?” nat’s voice break the silence. you catch up your head, looking at wanda, who’s just shrugs her shoulder. you nod, first a little bit choppy, hoping she not gonna say to steve... or worse, tony. god no. 

“don’t worry, i knew that. he’s gonna be alright.” and with that, you tilt your head back to regain some energy to continue the day.

the three of you drive off to wanda’s and pietro’s house. you were here several times, having countless sleepovers and girly nights, a couple of times dreaming about what if you fall asleep in pietro’s arms the next time... or the next next time. 

after a couple of hours, nat’s phone rang a bit on the table. you laid on the couch, while wanda tilted her head in her palms, but snatching her head immediately at the sound –what if he’s alright? 

nat reads the text, smirking a little bit, barely apparent –”steve says he’s stable.” thank god, you think, smiling at wanda with so much concern off from your shoulders. if pietro’s alright, everything’s alright, even if he don’t remember that i saved his life, and with that, you feel a little euphoric.

“guys, can we... cook for him something?” the other two turning at your words, natasha nods with ease, wanda nearly jumps to the counter –”is chocolate chip cookie alright, y/n?” “of course, ma’am!”

the time passes by in a blink, a doze of cookies packed in a box for the sweet, tough boy. wanda wanted you to decorate it a little bit, but in the end, she was just happy that you are happy too. arriving to the hospital, nat stops you and wanda, giving you the cookie-jar –”be lucky, y/n. maybe your prince wakes up with one kiss.” you close the door quickly, before any of the two of you can be harmed by wanda’s fangirl screams. 

when you glance at pietro’s limp, enervate body, all of his abdomen and chest covered with white bandage, infusion in his arm, the engine beeping rhythmically, your heart twists a knot on itself. his eyes are closed, but when he hears you footsteps, he tries to smile –and he’s doing it for you, even if it hurts like hell. 

“hi, y/n.” he rustles, following with his eyes as you pulls a chair next to his bed, placing the cookies in your lap. “hi, pietro. everything’s fine?”

“besides that i hardy even breath, those scums make me a sieve, and i would die for a glass of water... yeah, it’s fine.” you giggle, patting his free, strong hand. “it’s good that i see you first when i wake up. even questioning myself when you stepped in, am i in heaven or... you know.” you heart throbs at his words, nearly don’t believing that he says things like this to you. from the nowhere, really! or are you dead too, and is this heaven? 

“i brought you some cookies, wanda, nat and i made it. thought you gonna be hungry when you wake up”, you mutter, gently grabbing his hand. the corner of his lips curl up slightly, the heavy, purple lids above his eyes tried to comfort him with slow, bitty blinks. “i hope you gonna like it.”

“i’m gonna love it.” he choughs a little, placing his own hand onto yours, his cold skin calms your hot, sweaty one. “escpecially if it don’t comes out here, there or there.” pietro continues, referring to the big injuries on his body. you laugh, a little bit louder than usual, but neither of the two of you mind it –something beautiful, soft-hearted evolving in this moment.

“you gonna be alright. i’m– we gonna take care of you.” correcting yourself in no time, your other hand sneaked into his dyed, silky locks. 

“you know, i’m perfectly okay with the first option too.” your cheeks sink into deep red. “but... why were you always so quiet? i never... wanted to disturb you, i thought i bother you, or something.” 

you tugged on the white sheets, looking into another side –”the truth is, like you. very, very much, like i like like you... it’s just my nature, i was scared that if i draw on you, you get the sight and- you know, you don’t like me, or just as a friend. and i’m not that easy type, who gets down from this in no time.” 

“i would never hurt you, y/n. i often seems to be like a girl-magnet, and actually i am... but if we had a good relatinship, i never would fuck it up.” “that’s good. i love to hear that.” you whisper, smiling with bliss in your heart and eyes. 

“what do you say, sweetheart? can we give a try to the good relationship? just you and me, and the cookies.” leaning down on the comforting mattress to his side, you press a little kiss to the back of his hand.

“yes, we can.”

a thousand times yes. 

𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 )):

[captaincravatthecapricious]

No Way To Get Help

@malevon​

Well... this was supposed to be about Jon, but it's about Tim instead. Under the wreckage of the wax museum, Tim isn't dead.

cw nausea, depression, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation (canon typical levels for Tim end of season 3), ambiguous mentions of injury, hospitals

Four more fics to go, and only one more prompt to send in, so if you have something in mind, get it in quick! I hope you know the drill by now!  Thanks @celosiaa​ for the wonderful card!

The silence is deafening.  Or would be if Tim wasn’t partially deaf already.  He hadn’t been wearing his hearing aids.  What would have been the point?  He knows the plan.  Daisy and Basira are ….were?  Hardly chatty.  He didn’t?  Doesn’t?  Didn’t?  Want to hear a single word that Jon had to say.  

God.  Tenses.  

Is anyone still alive?  Is it just him?  

He should clarify.  The silence is deafening after the explosion.  After the circus music that was somehow louder, possibly because it was at least partly inside his head.  There is probably the sound of rubble settling, and the groaning of burning building, and rushing emergency vehicles.  But… he can’t hear a goddamn thing.  Just that eternal ringing in his ears.  He has never been sure if that was tinnitus or just what silence sounds like.  Never thought it worth asking after he learned that people with tinnitus have higher rates of suicide.  And… well… if this stupid plan was nothing else, wasn’t it just some grand suicide scheme?  

One that looks to have spectacularly failed.  

Just him… probably alone.  In the dark.  

Then again, if he’s alive, maybe the others are too?  Does he want that?  

If he’s honest, he would rather just be dead.  

Not that that is a revelation.  

Then again, he could be dead in a minute.  

He can’t feel his legs.  Well… he can.  He wishes he couldn’t.  He wishes he couldn’t feel anything.  There is so much pain that it just… it’s too much for him to even register as pain anymore.  He just feels… cold and crushed.  Probably shock because there are actual fires burning around him.  He can smell it.  The burning plaster and plastic and wood and smoldering concrete… if that is even a thing?  Thick air.  He’s coughing.  And that hurts more.  

He can’t hear it, however.  

He can’t hear anything but that goddamn ringing in his ears.  

He thinks he might be crying.  

He can’t hear his own heaving sobs.  

Just that high-pitched whine of utter silence.  

Do you know what that sound is, highness?  Those are the shrieking eels…

That’s it.  

The only words his brain can find, as he grows ever more numb.  He has no doubt that darkness is eating at his vision, or would be if there was anything but darkness around him. 

Not even the words from the book.  Lines from the movie.   Which isn’t a bad thing…  He doesn’t even know his own feelings about his favorite book and his favorite movie.  

(That’s not true.  He was always a fan of the movie, but… he and Danny read the book to each other so often…  He has the work paperback in the pocket of his bomber jacket.  Wanted to die with it.  Ideally buried with it, but it’s not like he left a note.  Aside from that damn tape).  

The whine continues.  He doesn’t know how long it’s been.  

 Do you know what that sound is, highness?  Those are the shrieking eels…

That had been the first thing he had thought of when he first heard the worms.  

He curses the worms to the darkness.  If it hadn’t been for them… he could have lived in blissful ignorance about the darker nature of his job… well to some degree.  Sasha would still be here.  Jon wouldn’t have….  FUCK.  He doesn’t want to think about Jon while he’s willing himself out of existence.  But….

But Jon.  That little fucking moron.  Who he HATES.  Who he wants to hate.  

Does he hate Jon?  

Is Jon even still alive?  

If he’s dead, does he want to keep hating a dead man?  One who …wasn’t any worse than him.  

Which isn’t to say blameless, or not a twat at times….  But.  But not a monster.  And Tim can’t really blame him for not trusting anyone.  

Jon… was in the wrong, but so was Tim.  They have both been utter dicks.  Which has always been Tim’s least favorite plot.  God back in publishing… a Lifetime ago… he always hated books that hinged on characters fighting, not talking things out, not Understanding and that rift causing endless misery.  Has he really become something that he hated… still hates with every fiber of his being.  The number of books that set his teeth on edge from the first misunderstanding.  He actually hates most Rom Coms for that reason.  Which… surprised just about everyone he’s dated.  

He possibly groans.  He isn’t thinking clearly.  

He can’t hear himself groan.  

He really should give it up, and let himself pass out.  He hurts.  He’s tired.  If he wakes up… that’s a problem for later.  If he quietly slips away… well… maybe he’ll see Danny there.  Maybe he’ll see Sasha.  Hell, maybe if he sees Jon there, they can work something out.  If there is an afterlife… they’ll have all the time in the world.  (Or rather all the time in the next world).  And if not… well.  Eternal rest sounds pretty damn good.  

…But.  But Jon.  If Jon is alive down here… He should be close.  

And… Tim can’t let him die alone under this building.  He can’t lose someone else to the Circus while he sits idly by.  And Damn it, maybe he doesn’t want to meet Jon in the afterlife just yet, maybe he wants a break?  (And maybe he just loves him too much to completely give up on him… even though he knows he is far too late.  Too many bridges burned.  “We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.”  A line from Jon’s favorite play.)

Tim tries to move his fingertips.  And almost screams.  It hurts.  It hurts.  It hurts.  

He thinks he might scream.  But he can’t hear a sound.  

He braces himself and tries again.  Stretching his arms out as wide as he can.  Moving dust and ash and rubble.  He almost passes out.  Or maybe he does pass out.  Time has no meaning in this place.  

He finds a hand.  Cold.  And limp.  And his heart stops, first for fear that this is another mannequin.  Then for fear that this is all that is left of someone who was… could have been… is?  Something to Tim.  Everything to Tim.  

Tim thinks he might vomit.  

He feels out a little further as his head swims.  He feels the stretched and puckered skin of undoubtedly Jon’s right hand.  Unresponsive.  Possibly dead.  

Tim coughs.  Choking on the soot and heat and fumes in the air.  A massive weight both metaphorical and painfully tangible on all of him.  Aching pain breaking him into little shards, which turn right around and skewer him.  

Tim loses consciousness.  Old and cracked and dry paperback of The Princess Bride in his pocket.  Limp hand of his… friend? In his hand.  

Tim wakes up in hospital.  

His lungs hurt.  And everything feels distant and fuzzy.  Probably being pumped through with a lot of painkillers.  Probably for the best, or he might be more upset for waking up.  He wants to ask after Jon… but he can’t get his mouth to open.  

And suddenly he’s thinking about Westley.  Mostly dead.  Revived.  Head flopping around on his neck.  Danny had lost his shit laughing at that… it always made Tim feel sick after… everything.  The imitation of life… couldn’t quite shake the image of… that night.  Christ if he was on less drugs, he would probably puke.  

He would shake his head if he could move. 

“You just shook your head, that doesn’t make you happy?”

He is also struck by the thought that this is Kill Bill in reverse.  Nearly died getting his revenge, and then ending up in a coma.  (He watched those movies on Bad days.  When he downs enough whiskey to drown a horse.  He can’t say he really remembers much of them, but they were always cathartic.)  

He tries to look at his feet.  But he can’t even lift his head.  

He closes his eyes again.  

When he opens them, he sees Martin.  Worn and tired.  Looking older than ever, more haggard than Jon.  

Shit!  Jon.  Is Jon here?  Is he dead?  

He still can’t move.  

He looks at Martin again.  Martin is… talking?  Tim can’t make out anything.  Just the dull murmur of meaningless sound.  

…But.  

Martin is holding a book.  

A sooty, singed book.  

Martin sitting between two hospital beds, holding Tim’s old copy of The Princess Bride, facing Tim presumably so if Tim were to come around, Tim could read his lips.  

“I said, ‘What do you mean, “Westley dies”?  You mean dies?

My father nodded.  ‘Prince Humperdink kills him.’

‘He’s only faking though, right?’  

My father shook his head, closed the book all the way.

‘Aw shit,’ I said and I started to cry.  

‘I’m sorry,’ my father said.  ‘I’ll leave you alone,’ and he left me.”

Martin is also crying.  Just like Billy in the book.  

“’Who gets Humperdinck?’” Tim whispers.  Painfully aware of how dry his throat is.  It’s no more than a cracked whisper.  

And then he’s coughing.  

He can barely hear himself, but he swears he is coughing out a lung.  

Martin has dropped the book.  Staring in wide-eyed shock for a moment, before yelling something.  Scrambling up.  Probably getting a doctor.  Tim wishes he hadn’t gone.  

He looks are where Martin had been, but ends up getting a good look at the bed next to him.  And sees one, very still and very pale Jonathan Sims.  Very bandaged, and frighteningly still.  Tim can’t see breathing.  

And then he’s being poked and prodded and tested and Martin is talking to him.  And everything hurts.  Until it doesn’t and he’s lying still and Martin is smoothing his hair down and holding his hand and telling him that he’s been unconscious for a month.  That Jon is all but brain dead.  That Elias is in police custody.  

By the time Jon wakes up, five months later, Tim has decided to give him another chance, he and Martin are sharing a flat, there is another room ever hopeful that Jon will want to join then if- no, when he wakes up.  

Also.  Jon’s hair may or may not be dyed green.  

Maybe.  

No, Tim has no idea what everyone is looking at him like that for.  

[astromechs]

look at her (with her eyes like a flame)

i was today years old when i publicly posted smut for the first time in my life. caroljess, 1553 words. (me tagging this as nsfw blocks this from the tags, but please note that this is nsfw).

story can also be found on ao3!

Look, Jess has spent enough of her life, more than enough of her life, being told what to do.

That’s why she’d left SHIELD, because with orders chasing her down twenty-four hours a day, even in her sleep, it hadn’t proven to be that much different from HYDRA, really. Honestly, it’s also why she’d given up the Avenger gig, beyond the reasons she’d actually provided; Cap’s a good man, he really is, and she trusts that he knows what he’s doing — but in the end, it’s still his orders in the field, without much room for anything else.

No, like this, she’s the closest thing she’s ever been to what she thinks happy might feel like, with Spider-Woman being her own free agent to act however she pleases. The bills may be a little bit of a struggle (okay, a lot of a struggle; eventually, she will have to address the pile of them steadily accumulating on the coffee table in the middle of a studio apartment that she can barely afford), but she gets to call the shots. Gets to decide what cases to take and which ones to pass over, gets to define, for herself, what it means to do good in this world.

After so many years of having one idea or another planted into her mind — sometimes gently, sometimes forcibly — it’s liberating.

Jess gets to call the shots in every aspect of her life, not just her job; she gets to call them here, too, as she and Carol stumble through the doorway into her apartment, colliding into each other like they can’t stand to be apart, even for a second, kissing like it’s needed to breathe. She gets to call the shots as she kicks the door shut (with a forceful slam that might rip it off its hinges, given her own super strength; that’s a problem for later Jess) and presses Carol’s back against the wall, slotting their bodies together. Gets to call the shots when —

“Tell me,” she breathes more than says, hot against Carol’s ear, “how you want me.” She pulls back just far enough for their gazes to meet, so that the next words out of her mouth have the most impact. “Order me.”

There’s a glint in Carol’s eye, a smirk just barely tugging on the corners of her mouth. Most of the time, that usually means the imminent arrival of some cringeworthy joke, or it’s a sign that the bullheaded stubbornness Jess both loves and hates is about to get them into a world of shit. Now, though? Now, it sends a shiver down her spine despite the blood boiling hot under her skin, gets her fucking wet in record time.

Lets her know that it isn’t a mistake to let Carol take the reins.

Of course it isn’t a mistake; it never is.

“Couch,” is all Carol has to pronounce, and that’s that.

The final steps to the appointed destination are a blur of searing kisses and a trail of clothes haphazardly tossed behind them onto the floor, of hands roaming and nails raking down every inch of skin they can find. It’s hurried, but meandering; a flash, but also an eternity stretching before them.

So much, but not enough. Never enough.

Lips find her neck, then teeth, as she feels her back pressed into the couch, surrounded on all other sides by Carol, and only Carol. There’s absolutely nowhere in this world that she feels safer — and she knows, probably better than anyone, just how hard safety is to come by; every street corner has some untold threat lurking beyond reach, and friendly faces can easily turn into the opposite, but that’s so far beyond this room right now that it’s not even worth putting thought into. As she winds her fingers through Carol’s hair, she closes her eyes and just feels.

For all that Carol tends to rush into most fights she comes across, fists blazing, she knows how to take her time with something when she sets her mind to it — to the point that it’s actually agonizing. By the time that there’s a tongue flicking across her nipple, Jess is practically squirming. She arches her hips in a desperate search for friction, only to have a hand clamp down on her stomach, keeping her firmly in place.

“Patience,” Carol chides, before landing another slow kiss to her breast.

It continues like this for… Jess doesn’t know how long, exactly, because just as she feels every trace of fingers and every press of lips against her skin, she feels every second tick by in that somehow blissful kind of agony. The kisses pause somewhere just above her belly button, and she’s halfway to actually groaning, when —

Fingers finally, finally slide her panties down her legs, and come that much closer to where they’re wanted. Jess doesn’t have time to wait for Carol to be a teasing little shit; working against the other hand still clamped down onto her, she bucks her hips to meet them. Whether that actually works, or whether Carol had finally decided to take pity on her, she’ll never know — but it doesn’t matter.

It feels so good, so unbelievably good, to have one finger, then two fingers moving over her folds, venturing inside of her, that she actually moans.

She doesn’t have to see the fucking smug smirk on Carol’s mouth to know that it’s definitely there.

A mouth that could be put to much better use right now, comes a fleeting thought that quickly slips through her grasp.

Because, as if reading her mind (and she wonders, sometimes, if they can… you know, read each other’s minds, with the way that they’ve always just seemed to move in sync from day one), Carol’s fingers are gone, replaced by her mouth, and Jess, tugging on the other’s hair, hisses, “Fuck.”

Honestly, Jess has never really thought about the possibility of whether or not something like heaven might exist. She remembers, in fragments, snatches of stories from her childhood — but everything before HYDRA is such a blur that it’s not even really worth trying to piece together. Then, there’d been spending ten years in a coma, being a tool for one entity or another, and… no, there just hasn’t been much opportunity for her to form a belief system. If heaven exists, though, Jess thinks it has to be something like this; has to be electricity moving through her veins, drawing her closer and closer to the precipice, for all eternity.

Greedy as it might make her, though, even heaven isn’t nearly enough to satisfy her right now.

“Carol.” She’s too far gone at this point to register embarrassment that her voice is bordering on a whine, but still, she cracks an eye open, narrowing as she casts a glance downward. “Hurry up.”

“Jess, remember what you said?” Carol pulls back just enough to speak; when she does, Jess still feels her breath. It’s the hottest and most irritating thing she’s ever experienced, all at the same time. “I’m ordering you to wait.” So, too, is the inevitable smirk that she now actually sees. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She’s never wanted to kill Carol more than she has right at this moment.

Or, at least, that’s what she would be thinking, if she could concentrate on anything beyond the feeling of Carol’s tongue moving over her clit with military precision, sending a jolt straight to her core and a noise so guttural it’s almost inhuman tearing from her throat. (Somewhere at the back of her mind, she vaguely wonders if the neighbors might’ve heard; vaguely, she decides she doesn’t care.) Both eyes roll closed again and her head hits the arm of the couch with a force — but that doesn’t matter when all thought and sense is already out the window in the face of the pressure that keeps building and building….

Fuck, she’s close.

Carol knows; she always knows. “I’ve got you, Jess.” She feels the words being whispered against her folds more than hears them. “I’ve got you.”

Jess lets go.

She’s quiet as she does, riding over the crest of the wave as her labored breathing slowly, steadily evens out, as warmth pulses through her before settling into something mellow. Comfortable.

Just like what Jess has always felt for her best friend, the woman she loves (and trusts) more than anyone. The woman who makes her believe in a lot of things, but above all, in the possibility of safety.

Her eyes flutter open to the sight of Carol once again over her, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, and fuck — she already feels something stirring in core, renewed. But above and beyond that, it’s the most beautiful sight that Jess has ever seen in her life; that’s what tugs a smile on her own mouth. She reaches to take the hand before Carol drops it, entwining their fingers together.

“See?” Carol’s eyes are as bright as her smile. “You were right to let me call the shots, Spock.”

The laugh that escapes Jess is still a little breathless. “Don’t get too high on your own power, Kirk.” Straining her neck, she leans in to capture Carol’s mouth in a kiss. “We’re not done yet.”

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 40

Read on AO3. Part 39 here. Part 41 here.

Summary: Out of curiosity, is it possible to have a party in Gilead that doesn't end in disaster?

Words: 5600

Warnings: emotions

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hello! Welcome back, again, to my weekly updates. Haha. I think the last few chapters may go a couple weeks in between updates, if only because I want to get them exactly right--just as a heads up.

I am hoping this chapter seemed correct in its pacing and length--these are two things I am trying to get a better feel for as I write, hence the extended length of the chapters, but I'm wondering if it feels too draggy?

Anyway, I love y'all very very much, and I love your thoughts and kindness and generosity. I am truly so lucky. <3

The Night Buzzard was hardly the most comfortable sleep you’d had, but it had easily been the deepest in weeks. Between the exhaustion of being fucked within an inch of your existence and the knowledge that a veritable army was only feet away from you, you felt invulnerable enough to slip into what apparently was complete unconsciousness for six hours. Nothing--not the rumbling of the terrain, not the voices of the Knights, nor the wailing of the engine--had roused you. Only a firm pressure on your shoulder was enough to finally drag you from your blissful semi-coma.

Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy with a film of sleep, coming to focus on the morning-kissed face of Kylo Ren.

Light filtered through the black-tint windows, splitting him in shadow, his expression soft and stern. His hair was filthy with sweat, clumped in frizzy locks over his forehead and ears, his chin and upper lip peppered with a hint of stubble. As you met his gaze, you could see nothing but tired, guttered rage in his pupils, an umbra under his eyes. His attention flickered over you, examining you, a warm, gloveless hand cupping your cheek, thumb tracing over the still-tender skin. You winced, and his head tilted, his hand skating down your arm, sparking affection in your chest. Affection you did not want. Frowning, you shrugged him off. 

His lid twitched, his jaw tensed. He glanced to the side. “We’ve arrived home.” Toward the front of the Buzzard, the Knights were shuffling, the door whining as it opened. “Once you shower and dress, we’ll be departing again.”

You blinked, tugging the robe to your chin and propping yourself up on an elbow. “Again?” you asked. “Why?”

“City hall,” he replied. “Tying loose ends.”

“Okay.” You shrugged, rolling over, looking at the wall. “You enjoy that. I won’t be going.”

Pressure on your shoulder again, turning you toward him, and you shook him away. “You’re coming.”

“If you’re concerned about my safety, leave a Knight or two outside.” A tiny smirk on your lips. “They’ve become pretty familiar with me by now, anyway.”

Kylo grumbled, gripping your arm. “You don’t have a choice.”

Spinning on him, you seared him in his spot. “What else is new?” you spat. “Go ahead, then. Make me.” You grit your teeth. “I’d really like to see you try.”

He stared at you, studying your face, lips pinching together. The last Knight stepped off the Buzzard, and the door closed, drenching you both in silence. You held him in your gaze, unyielding, breath stalled in your lungs. Kylo swallowed, and then averted his eyes, his conviction melting in the ferocity of your fury. The hold on your arm loosened--you grabbed two of his fingers, plucked them free, and tossed his hand to the side.

“Right,” you said. “That’s what I thought.”

Huffing, you clambered out of the bunk from the end of the mattress, pulling your robe--his robe, technically--over your body and cinching it tight. You felt Kylo’s gaze linger while you gathered your shoes and underwear into your arms, flouncing barefoot down the steps and into the front yard of his home. The sun was peeking into the sky, spilling newborn light through dawn clouds, the air still woven with the wool of summer heat. Sighing, you paced to the front door, arms folded with your belongings, trained on the floor as you escaped to your room.

When you shut the door to your tiny cell, you burst, hurling your clothes into the air with a howl, throwing yourself on your bed. It didn’t matter if you wanted to cry--you would continue to refuse, content to bask in rage instead, to let yourself simmer in it. You would tolerate no more kindness from Kylo Ren, no more exceptions in his design, no more delicate baths or malted whisky eyes or hope-hollow words. If he was to never let you go, you would never let him hold you again.

It was about a half-hour before the Buzzard peeled from the driveway, and the Audi with it. You allowed yourself a moment of respite in his absence--now was your chance to bathe and catalogue the thoughts flipping through your mind. Another long, soft sigh escaped your lungs, and you rolled out of bed, grabbing a change of clothes and new uniform before heading to your door, only to be met with the sound of footsteps in the hallway. You swallowed, paused, heart flipping. It could only be a Knight--you just hadn’t expected to be met in your room. When the boots stopped outside of the threshold, but went no further, you shook off your nerves and opened it.

One of the Knights--helmeted, as usual, God only knew what they looked like--stood in front of you, silent, as if it was totally normal for him to be waiting outside of your door like a sentry. Warmth rushed your face in memory of the previous night, acknowledging that he’d not only seen you naked, he’d stroked his cock to the sight of you being fucked, and he’d shot hot jets of cum somewhere onto your body. You supposed it’d be awkward to ask which load had been his.

“Um.” You cleared your throat. If only there was a way for you to glimpse his mind, to know what he was recalling--or imagining--in this moment. “Excuse me.”

“Apologies,” he sputtered. The voice was familiar--Ushar, you guessed. “Wasn’t expecting you to be leaving.”

“Oh.” Perhaps getting his semen blown onto your face afforded you the privilege of a conversation. Or he was concerned you’d be afraid, and then mention it to your Commander. “Don’t worry about it.”

You stepped toward him, and he pivoted, back to the wall, allowing you a wide berth as you passed. Fear seemed more likely. 

It wasn’t until you’d made it approximately twenty feet down the hall that he moved to follow, trailing behind while you snuck down the steps and to your bathroom in the annex. You opened the door and slipped inside, tossing your uniform to the side and running your bath. Seconds later, Ushar arrived at the door in silence. 

As alone as you could get inside Kylo Ren’s home, you shrugged off your robe, and scanned your body, seeking evidence of your evening. There was no mirror in your bathroom, just as there was not one in your bedroom--so you improvised, pressing your palms to your cheeks, mapping the topography of your skull with your fingers. Pain tingled at your touch, the lumps and bumps that had burgeoned overnight still thumping and soft, the bruises on your face stinging with latent life. 

They were all trophies, to you, little souvenirs from your holiday at his hands--and you hoped by the time you’d lost them, the feelings packaged with them would be lost, too.

When the bath was halfway full, you sank into the water, shuddering as tension and ache was vacuumed from your limbs. You gazed at your stomach beyond the surface, imagining it as an island in the bath--your skin stretched tight, belly button protruding like a tiny hill--and coasted your hands over it, as if this would manifest your illusion. When it finally did become reality, there was no telling where you’d be, what you’d be bathing in, or who you would have come to trust. But you knew that wherever you landed, it would be by the strength of your own wings, in a nest that, no matter how humble, was crafted by only your design.

After you were clean and the water had cooled, you hoisted yourself from the bath, arms and legs heavy from relief in buoyancy. You stumbled onto the tile and steadied yourself with the sink, taking a few breaths. Balanced, you dressed into your uniform and tucked your hair away before tossing your leftover items into the hamper and exiting the bathroom. 

Ushar was still stationed outside--your cheeks burned again when you walked past him, returning to your room. You’d had plenty of encounters with men--your red dress was proof of that--but in the past three years, the only person whose release you’d handled had been your Commander’s. The sudden fact that seven men had anointed you with cum within the past 24 hours sharpened the post-engagement awkwardness to a knife. Not that you regretted it. 

You shut your door behind you and flopped onto your mattress face-first. The sky was bright, but it was still early. There was nothing else for you to do but continue to sleep.

The sun had passed mid-point when a squealing cheer from somewhere in the home startled you awake, eyes opening into a blank wall. A little hint of dread poked your brain as you recalled what Johana had mentioned the day before. A party to celebrate. You grunted, wanting to bury yourself in your pillow--but cramped, stomach seizing in hunger, informing you that you hadn’t actually eaten in over 24 hours. Between the doctor, the Buzzard trip, and getting your brains fucked out and then jizzed on, your appetite had been whittled to nil. Unfortunately, you were still human.

Sighing for the five-hundredth time that day, you trudged out of bed, adjusting your bonnet before you opened the door to Ushar, steadfast as ever. He sidled against the wall again, and you once more plodded through the hall, down the steps, with him in slow pursuit. 

Another peal of laughter ricocheted off the walls, and your neck prickled. They were in the parlour room, whoever they all were, and it was required you pass the parlour room to reach the kitchen. Turning to Ushar, you cocked your head in a silent plea, to have even a sliver of a chance to be invisible. Perhaps, again, out of fear, he nodded, backing into the hall--and you willed yourself to be a scarlet spectre, unseeable unless you wished to be seen, in the hopes you could escape their eyes.

As you crept to the archway, one of the women clapped her hands.

“Oh, Johana!” she said. “I had one of those too! Perfect for the baby room.”

“Do you think so?” That was Johana, sounding concerned. “No choking hazards?”

“No way!” said another woman. “You just hang it up above the crib and they fall right asleep!”

“Yes, it doesn’t go in the crib!”

Johana laughed. “Oh, give me a break, I’m a new mom.”

The group erupted in giggles again. Your stomach churned--but not from hunger. As their chatter escalated, you stepped forward, visible through the threshold, and every word on their lips died. 

In the center of the room was Johana, perched on the edge of the leather Chesterfield with a mobile in her lap, buried in a mountain of handmade baby clothes, toys, and room decor, a bevy of neatly wrapped boxes still unopened. Surrounding her were at least a dozen Wives, none of whom you recognized apart from Dolpheld Mitaka’s--you supposed the others had become Widows. They scrutinized you in confused disgust for a long, quiet moment.

It was almost shocking, how quickly they’d pulled this amount of material together, but you also knew most Wives stockpiled baby things in anticipation for their day. Perhaps the only truly surprising fact was their willingness to share.

“Ofkylo.” Johana’s cheeks glowed, but you couldn’t tell if it was from joy or embarrassment. “Good afternoon.”

“Um.” You folded your arms over your chest, like you could hide the knowledge that you were pregnant from everyone in the room. “Hello.”

She placed the mobile to the side. “I trust you had an uneventful evening.” There was no edge of malice in her tone--your pregnancy appeared to have at least one tangible benefit.

Pinching your lips between your teeth, you ignored the swarm of blood to your face. “Yeah,” you said, and then corrected, “yes. I, um. I did.”

One of the Wives, plump with dark hair, snorted, rolling her eyes. “You let your Handmaid out during the day?” she asked. “I can’t stand to see them crawling around like that.”

“Oh, I know!” replied a blonde-haired woman. “They’re like rats. Conniving, selfish things.”

“The one I had would always be making eyes at my husband, I swear.”

“Wasn’t she blind in one eye?”

“Well, yes, but she was still looking at him with her good eye--”

The back of your neck bloomed with sweat, your fingers burrowing into your arms. Venom gathered on the tip of your tongue, the most foolish part of you wanting to test out just how absolute your Commander’s protection was. 

“--and all I knew was, she better have been sleeping with that one eye open, or I was going to--”

The dark-haired Wife shushed the rest, leering at you as she spoke. “Be careful what you say,” she said, “you know Jo’s husband has a soft spot for Handmaids.”

The others nodded in agreement, supplying Johana with looks that ranged from pity to complete contempt. 

“That’s right!” This woman, a red-head closest to Johana, patted her knee. “Oh, I don’t know what I’d do if I were you. I don’t think I’d ever put up with everything you do.”

“It’s kind of stupid, isn’t it?” said another. “Benefits for Handmaids? Who cares? They’re literally whores!”

A gaggle of them laughed, and you licked your lips, teeth crushing your tongue into submission. Johana met your eyes, glimpsed your whitening knuckles, and her jaw stiffened.

The red-head patted her knee again, like this was comforting instead of patronizing. “You’re being quiet!” she said. “You don’t share your husband’s… preoccupation with Handmaids, do you?”

Johana blanched, scowling. “What? No.”

“That’s good.” She sighed. “Because I was just thinking the other day, you know, this never would’ve happened if Moden were alive.” A spoiled-fruit sweetness tinged her tone. “Don’t you think?”

For a sharp, clear second, Johana froze, and the last restraint on your mouth snapped.

“I think that’s pretty inappropriate,” you said. “Ms. Johana has no say in what her husband does.”

Silence swallowed the room, every muscle motionless. A low murmur of disbelief vibrated through the Wives as they glanced at each other, and then at Johana. She was looking at you like she’d looked at you at the dinner party--only this time, bathed in familiar light.

“Actually.” Back straight, she cleared her throat. “Ofkylo, why don’t you. Come... sit with us.”

The Wives flipped on her like a dozen switches, their brows drawn back or raised, before gazing at you, waiting for you to make your choice. There was some delight you’d take in staying, in deliberately making them uncomfortable, just as Johana wanted--but God, you were hungry. You shook your head, put up your palms in deference.

“Oh, no,” you said. “That’s, um, that’s fine, Ms. Johana, but I was just going to get something--”

“Nonsense.” She scooted over, patted the seat next to her on the couch. “Sit.”

You rolled your tongue over your teeth, ready to turn and leave, but something in her expression was tight, needled with pain. As if she was pleading. A current of pity rippled through your mind--in this room, surrounded by gifts, supposed friends, and social and legal superiority, she was still left depending on you. With a shrug of agreement, you waded through the crowd until you reached her, sinking onto the sofa, squeezing between her and the building hill of presents.

None of the Wives spoke. Johana clapped her hands on her thighs. “So!” she said. “Next gift?”

They surveyed each other for a moment, and a small hand crept into the air.

“Um.” It was Mitaka’s Wife, her mousey face peeking through the crowd. “You can open my gift next, Johana.” She offered a floppy paper package, eased it toward the couch. “I, um, I made it awhile ago for… someone else. It’s not much.”

Johana took it into her lap with a small grin. “Oh, I’m sure it’s just lovely.” 

You watched, like you were beyond a screen as she opened a gift meant for your child as if it was hers. She looked out at the other women, peeling the wrapping back, exposing a small, knit sweater. The room gasped, shrieking in restrained glee when she held it up, flipping it in display. 

“Adorable!” said the blonde-haired Wife, clapping her hands. “That’s perfect.”

Johana released a nervous chuckle. “But it’s so small.”

“No way!” said another woman. “That baby’s taking after you. He’s going to be tiny!”

“Yes! Precious little man!”

“Oh,” Johana said with a laugh, “we’ve decided it’s a boy, now?”

Another jubilant interruption, the lot of them breaking into smiles while your muscles locked, your focus drifting to your stomach. You hadn’t really considered its gender, or its appearance, or its actuality at all. Something twisted through your heart--a swell of repulsive affection--as you imagined it in your arms, every feature blurred, save for one clear detail: a feathery mop of thick, dark hair. 

“What are you going to name him?” 

The baby in your arms disintegrated, and you snapped to the parlour room. 

“He won’t be a Junior, will he?”

The first thought through your head--Kylo would never want a Junior--before you realized that Kylo would never meet his child, and the question hadn’t been directed toward you at all.  

Johana shrugged, her shoulder brushing yours. “You know, I’ve thought about names, but I can’t decide. My husband doesn’t really have a preference.” 

“He’ll be just as handsome as your husband, I’m sure,” said the dark-haired woman. “But let’s hope he gets your manners.”

“What do you mean?” asked the blonde Wife. “Her husband is polite! He’s so quiet.”

The room dimmed with stifled muttering as the women who had spent more than five seconds around Kylo Ren exchanged sardonic smiles. Johana tensed at your side.

The blonde woman blinked. “What?” she said. “What is it?”

“Polite isn’t the word I’d use,” said the dark-haired woman. 

“I’d use the word ass--”

“Shh! Don’t say that, Jo’s right here.”

“Well, she’s the one enabling all of his--”

“It’s fine!” Johana’s face was pale, fists bunching in her dress. “I--I mean, he’s rough around the edges,” she said. “But I’m sure he’s… I’m sure he’s going to be a great father.” She pursed her lips, looking at you, that same plea in her eyes. “Right?”

Your stomach roared in protest--the thought of remaining in a room, listening to Wives discuss your child and its father’s involvement as if you were exempt from the equation had bubbled nausea to your tongue. Clearing your throat, you stood, dusting off your skirt. Johana grabbed your wrist.

“Hold on. Where are you going?” 

Grimacing, you wagged free of her grip. “I, um, really have to eat.” Your face was on fire. “Excuse me.”

Focus fixed to the floor, you scrambled from the group of Wives, whisking through the hall, wiping your palms on your sides. A great father. Even if you thought that was true--which, given everything you’d come to know about him, you now admitted you’d be delusional to think--Kylo Ren was never going to know if his child was even born. 

When you arrived in the kitchen, you met with Emma and Rose, preparing some sort of hors d'oeuvres. You wondered how many of these they did, given all of the parties Johana seemed hell-bent on forcing on this home. At the sound of your boot on the tile, they spun from the counters, and you offered a small grin, easing past the threshold.

“Hi.” You looked around the kitchen. “I was just. Um. Coming to get something to eat.”

Rose sighed. “Can you come back later? We’re a little busy.”

“Oh.” An angry growl somewhere in your abdomen. “I mean, I was just going to maybe have a sandwich?”

“Just let us finish this up,” Emma said, “then you can make yourself whatever you want.”

On the counter were dozens of cucumber slices, handfuls of cherry tomatoes, and a tub of shiny cream cheese. It couldn’t have been that much more work to do. And you didn’t want to be rude. You chewed your lip, folded your hands behind your back.

“Would you like help?”

They paused, glanced at each other, then back at you. Rose stepped to the side, providing you space in the counter, and you joined them, looking over the spread. 

“Here.” She opened a drawer, pulled out a knife, and placed it in front of you. “Finish up the cucumbers.”

There were only a few more to cut. You nodded, scanned the counter for a cutting board. “Oh, um. Do you have a spare…”

“There should be one in the bottom of the pantry.”

You nodded and crossed to the other side of the kitchen, opening the bottom drawers and searching through them, pushing aside the aluminum sheet pans and sets of kitchen utensils. No cutting board.

“I can’t find it?”

Emma sighed. “It should be under the muffin tins.”

“Oh.” You pried up the set of muffin tins, revealing a small wooden slab. “Got it. Thank you.”

Bending down, you wedged it from underneath the plethora of unused accessories, wiggling it from the drawer. As you pulled it free, the cresting rumble of the Audi’s engine coasted into the driveway. Your grip wavered, and it crashed to the floor. 

“Shit!” you hissed. Emma and Rose looked at you, brows pinched in concern, and you swallowed, heat building in your cheeks. “Um. I mean. Sorry.”

When you picked it up, the door to the Audi closed, followed by the scrape of boots through the front path, and you paused, your grasp on the board so tight you were surprised the wood hadn’t splintered. With you in the corner of the kitchen, your Commander wouldn’t see you as he passed through the hall--but it wasn’t seeing you that had your heart in your throat. It was the impending discovery of the party around the corner, full of women--and his Wife--whom you feared were guaranteeing their casualties under his design.

The front door opened, and you heard Kylo march through, shutting it behind him and striding into the hall. Chest tight, you returned to the counter, cutting board in hand, and placed it down before drawing in a slow breath. You plucked a smaller cucumber and laid it on the slab. His footsteps stopped.

“What is this?” 

Hands quaking, you lifted the knife, the handle heavy in your palm as you recalled how to wield one. 

“Oh! Commander,” Johana said. “It’s a party! For us!”

You lined up the blade with the tip, lips pulled in between your teeth. Sliced.

“Us.”

Fresh cucumber wet your nose. Beside you, Emma and Rose were chopping away, as if they didn’t sense the impending mushroom cloud just meters beyond the walls. 

“Yes. For our baby!” A ripple of laughter through the group. Then silence smothered the air.

Slice.

“I mean, look at everything everyone’s brought for us.” 

Kylo Ren said nothing. The sound of your rocking blade was thunder in your ears as it hit the board.

Slice.

“We’ve, uh, actually been joking that it’s a boy. That he’s going to have my manners.” 

Only a few women forced a laugh.

“But don’t worry!” Rustling of something, like paper. “We said he’ll have your looks.”

Still not a word. This time, not a single mouth managed a noise.

Slice.

“Well?” Johana breathed a mock-sigh. “It’s our baby! Aren’t you excited, Sir?”

No response. 

“Commander?” 

Slice. Slice.

“Sir--”

“This is over.”

Your breath stalled and the knife slipped--you hissed, dropped it in pain. A sliver of blood leaked from your thumb.

“What?” A tentative snort of disbelief. “What’s over?”

“You. Me. All of this.” 

A choked laugh--none of the other Wives made a sound. “Ky--Commander. What?”

Rose and Emma paused, too, staring at you. Face tingling with flames, you were unwilling to meet their eyes--you glanced around the kitchen, seeking out a towel. Red drops speckled the cutting board. 

“I want everyone out of this house. I want you gone by the weekend.”

Your hands trembled, littering the counter with blood. Breath failed to find your lungs. 

“Gone? You can’t… you can’t be seri--”

“Out. Now.”

The Marthas muttered something to you, their voices muffled by the hammering of your heart. Part of you was stuttering in disbelief that your Commander was actually doing this. The other part was busy filing its nails, having predicted this the second the doctor slapped your thigh with the news. Behind you, you heard the Wives filing out, whispering to themselves as they fled through the door. Meanwhile, you flitted around the kitchen, thumb curled into your fist in an attempt to staunch the flow, still unable to find a single goddamn piece of cloth.

“Hey.” Rose grabbed your shoulder, shoved a dish towel into your chest. “I was trying to give you this.” 

Your lids widened, and you nodded in thanks, thumb throbbing as you fumbled to swathe it closed. The last Wife shut the door behind her, your breath shallowed. The parlour room was quiet. A frustrated, feminine sigh.

“I mean. What do you expect me to say? Are you serious?”

A dark crimson daub blossomed through the cloth. You needed to get a fucking bandage. Those were all the way in the washroom. Past the parlour room.

“Yes.”

Johana huffed. “And where exactly do you expect me to go?”

“I don’t care.” 

Another pause. You and the Marthas had ceased moving, ceased talking--only in awe of the crumbling foundation of your home. 

“How do you--”

“You have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings.”

“Kylo, that’s only four--you asshole, where are you going--”

His steps disappeared into the home, turning the corner toward the staircase. You stood there, for a moment, squeezing your thumb in its makeshift tourniquet, each of you looking to the others.

Emma bared her teeth in a strained grimace. “Is he really kicking out his--”

A piercing screech ripped through the air, followed by a tearing of paper, the toppling noise of boxes, hollow wood, piles of clothes hitting the floor. Second later, a feral growl clawed out of Johana’s chest, her little feet shaking the ground as she stomped through the halls. You looked between the Marthas and your thumb.

“I’m going to, um, take this chance and grab a bandage.”

They said nothing, urging you on, and you tip-toed through the halls, wary of crossing either your Commander or his Wife, neither of whom you wanted to see or speak to in this particular moment, each for their own reasons. You passed the parlour room--Johana’s gifts were terrorized, spewed across the room in busted heaps. The little sweater was entombed by a set of boxes, the mobile fractured on the floor. 

It made sense, of course, that this would be his response--Johana’s presence threatened your own. As long as she laid claim to your child, your life was irrelevant. And while you didn’t feel bad for her shattered delusion, you knew that her only liferaft in Gilead’s storm had now been engulfed and drowned by the tidal wave of Kylo Ren. Barring her life, there was nothing more for her to lose. 

Head spinning, you continued to the washroom, ready to turn the corner, only to be paralyzed by the sound of Johana’s voice, serrated like a predator wail, shredded as you had never, ever heard it before. 

“We’re not finished yet, Kylo!”

You heard him stop, and you whirled around, pressing your back to the wall, holding your breath. She’d caught him at the bottom of the staircase.

“Move.”

“No.”

“Johana.”

“No! What the actual hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?”

“I might ask the same of you.”

“Oh, can it, smart ass. You think you can kick me out and still expect me to treat you like my husband?” A disgusted laugh. “You’re more delusional than I took you for.”

“Delusional.”

Johana deepened her voice in mockery. “Delusional--yes, delusional. This is Gilead, Kylo. The nation you helped found? There are laws. You can’t dispose of your Wife for your--God, I don’t know--little pet!”

“Careful.”

“Or what?” she asked. “What, you’ll, you’ll--humiliate me again? Order me in the middle of a party to leave the only home I’ve known for three years in front of my friends?” She laughed again. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Move--”

“Don’t! Touch me!” she screeched. “How do you see this working out? Huh? Do you see yourself telling the Council your plans to divorce your Wife, something Gilead doesn’t even allow? Do you see them letting you play house with your Handmaid?” 

“Don’t assume my plans.”

“Please! It’s so obvious how obsessed with her you are. You don’t even need eyes to see it.” She grunted. “Don’t touch me.”

“Then move.”

“Moden still has friends in the Council,” she said. “When they hear about what you’re doing, it’ll be over for you! And you know what that means? It’ll be over for her, too.” The sound of shuffling. Coming toward you. “Get back here--”

Adrenaline erupted, and you darted off, skittering like a squirrel down the hall and dipping into the parlour. Throwing yourself against the entry wall, you sucked in a breath to silence yourself in hopes they would pass the archway and miss you entirely. Your pulse throbbed in your thumb, blood pumping into the towel, soaking to your skin.

Kylo’s tromping feet barreled forward, but you heard Johana on his tail--the sound of a squeal, a grumble, the squeak of a spinning heel. 

“Johana--”

“Do you have any idea how long I defended you? How many excuses I made for you? Do you know I used to fucking feel bad for you? And you’re kicking me out?” That squawking laughter escaped her. “You’re demented!”

“I was generous to give you four days. You tempt me to make it four seconds.”

“Go ahead. You’ll be stuck here with her, and she’ll hate you too, just like I do, just like your parents did, just like everyone in the world fucking hates you!”

Something slammed the wall, and you jumped, clapping your hand over your mouth, towel flopping to the floor. 

“Punch all the holes you want!” she snarled. “You think just because you call yourself Kylo Ren that you’re not the same pathetic asshole that Ben Solo was, you’re wrong--you haven’t changed, and you never fucking will. It’s no wonder they fucking sent you away!”

“Get out.”

“Oh, go ahead and try.”

“Get--”

Johana screamed, and a sharp smack, skin on skin. 

“Serves you right, asshole! Fuck you!” She leapt into your line of sight, snatched the mobile from the floor, unaware you were behind her, and cracked the wooden frame in half, brandishing the broken rod like a sword. “I swear to God, if you try to touch me I’ll--” 

Her eyes caught you in the periphery. You froze. 

Chest cycling with rapid breath, she crystallized, gaze flashing between you and her husband beyond the archway. Tawny locks of hair curled out like smoke from her scalp, face flush with fury, her chin trembling as she drew a long breath into her lungs. For a moment, she held it there, and exhaled, shoulders sagging, fingers loosening, the mangled mobile clattering to the floor. Johana trapped you in her stare, inspecting you inch by inch, until her face fell, eyes flooding with fat, wet tears.

She nodded, focusing past the threshold. “Okay. I’ll leave. But not until the weekend.” Chewing her lip, she glanced at her feet, then back to you. “I give up,” she said softly. “You won.”

You wanted to tell her that the only thing you’d won was a fatherless child. But she tore out of the room, a whirlwind of empty apologies shrinking like shucked leaves on your tongue. 

Shaking, you looked to your thumb, pulsing with pain; creeks of blood stained your sleeve. One footstep, and another, and your Commander crossed into the parlour room, dressed in his boots, black slacks, a matching dress shirt. His hair was washed and wavy, his face free of shadow, a pink mark on his cheek. For all of Johana’s mistakes, you couldn’t justify this particular punishment she’d received--and yet, your heart clenched in his presence. You were afraid you would never stop loving him. 

He examined you, his lid twitched when he spotted your still-weeping wound. Frowning, he stepped toward you. “You’re bleeding.”

Jaw tight, you retreated, glaring at him. “I know.”

“Come.” He reached for you. “You need a bandage.” 

“No, I don’t.” You dodged, snagged the towel from the floor and circled around him, his eyes shimmering with shielded grief, following you until you met the archway. “I’ll let it bleed.”

Kylo Ren said your name--but you had escaped to the hallway with the towel around your thumb, unable to stay, unwilling to hear what came next. Your appetite had disappeared. In the dash to your room, you passed Ushar by the annex staircase, but he did not follow you up the steps. Instead, he remained a statue, stoic as you fled, a red wraith of rage, behind your door.   

[sargassostories]

anonymous asked:

Consider: either witcher's have some kind of a fertility season/cycle, or Geralt comes off worse of some sort of curse or magic encounter, and he is horny as f. Jaskier at first approaches the situation as if all his birthday have come at once, what a delight to get to enjoy/play this way, but he can soon see the writing on the wall and even he will be overwhelmed... So he calls in Yen. Who confirms it will pass, but they're going to need more lubrication before that point. XD

look i love a pon farr situation, and there are now many great full fics like this out there. 

what if that’s the side-effect of one of geralt’s extra mutations? he goes into a fevered state every seven years and simply must fuck or he’ll go into a coma for a few weeks. the first time he almost died. the second time eskel helped him set things up with a succubus coven that’s more than happy for a free meal.

but this time a deep cut and strange pollen in it triggers the blood-fever to start early. he knows what’s happening and begs jaskier to get him to the coven, and when it’s clear that’s too far away, at least somewhere he can pass out until they figure out how to revive him.

and jaskier’s like, “uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh-- or you just have sex and you’ll feel better? and instead you’ve been doing this the whole time we’ve been together?”

cause what if they’re already together? what if they’re already together, with yen?

he calls her up on her magic beeper and the two of them are looking at this sad sack like, it doesn’t have to be like this, you little slug.

they end up tying him down to the bed in yen’s tent, mostly because it seems to get him going even more. then slowly strip the armor away from his nipples, his chest, his hips, his ass, and his straining cock.

when he protests, yennefer makes him watch as she peels off Jaskier’s clothes, rakes her fingers through his body hair, and takes his cock down her throat, holding his gaze the whole time.

she then teases geralt’s ass while jaskier kisses him breathless.

when he whines, they move away again, this time as jaskier worships yen’s body, gasping and moaning with every touch, especially when yen grips his hair and rides his face.

it turns out, in this state, geralt has no trouble getting aroused but a lot of trouble cuming.

it takes many blissful, torturous hours, leaving him whimpering and crying as yennefer fucks into him with a cock that can’t quit, jaskier blissed-out and cuddling him from behind.

when he finally finishes (after yen’s fifth or sixth orgasm) and they fall into a sticky pile, they make him promise to let them join next time, and he finds he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

[depressedtransguy]

don't read this unless you're @thedragonemperess or I will come to your house and shave your teeth with a razor

@angelwiththeblue-box you can also read

10/07/21

Stephen took me to the carnival for our two year anniversary yesterday night. It was... phenomenal. Normally I don't like going out so publicly on our dates, especially in something as popular as a carnival, but it might be my favorite date of ours so far. He picked me up in his dad's Lamborghini at around 7:30, just as the sun was beginning to sink below the tree line of this stupid little town, and kissed me up against the car as soon as he got his hands on me. The start of his beard pricked me lightly as we did. Then he squeezed my hand lightly and told me he had a surprise that he hoped I liked. I told him if it was from him then I'd adore it. We shared another kiss through giggles before we slipped into the car and began to drive off. Our hands were intertwined on the center console the whole time. He always told me that it was hard to keep his hands off me with me in range and my consent. God... I love him more than anything. But, anyway, the carnival. As we neared, his thumb slid over mine and he told me to close my eyes, which I properly did. He's the only one I trust enough to do that with. I could tell he was excited and a little anxious just from the way he kept squeezing my fingers. It was adorable. Even cuter when we stopped and he temporarily let go as we stopped, only to move to my side of the car and slowly lead me out onto the gravel of the parking lot, practically buzzing with anticipation. I didn't even care what it was at that point, whatever made Stephen this thrilled to show him had to be good. Then he told me to open my eyes. And Jesus Christ I think I audibly gasped. I didn't know what I was really expecting, but when the bright lights spread all throughout the fairgrounds, exploding the navy sky with color, I could swear I was in another realm. As Stephen asked me if I liked it, I noticed his eyes were nervous, so with sparkling eyes I pulled him close and told him I loved it. The smile on his face was worth everything and more. He actually told me the same thing about mine. That was before he took my hand once more and led me past the ticket taker, pulling them out of his jeans and handing them off, us receiving a smile from her as we continued walking out onto the grass. "I know it's not traditional, but when I passed this place the other day I suddenly wanted to take you here," is what he said. "We can leave any time you want." "As long as you're here, I don't care where the date is," is what I said back. And boy was I right. It didn't matter that there were a ton of other people there, they all faded into nothing but background characters as Stephen miraculously won the balloon pop game and happily gifted me a little goat stuffed animal, one that I held close to my heart as I beamed at him. As I pressed my body close to him on the roller coaster, my fingers digging tightly into his bicep, and he held me steady as I stumbled onto the platform post ride. As the ferris wheel stuttered to a stop as we sat at the top, Stephen's hand on my thigh and my hand on his shoulder, and we kissed there, surrounded by nothing but the lights and the infinite abyss of stars. Once the night was over we had slow, sappy sex in his car, too filled with adoration and the need of skin against skin for us to drive back to one of our houses. I lazily drew shapes in the mist on the windows as I was brought back to my place, my mind filled with a soft bliss, and my body feeling like I had been washed over. I had never felt more at peace. And I still did, even as we had our long goodbye kiss and I went to sleep alone, the goat pressed against my chest. I was at peace. So how the hell did I end up here?

A tear slipped off of Loki's cheek and splattered onto his messy handwriting, bleeding the words together and making the many sections of his diary incomprehensible. It made him want to cry harder. That night could very well be all he and Stephen had together, and he was destroying the only stable record of it. Loki tilted back his head and squeezed his fists as tightly as possible.

On 10/07/21, at approximately 11:27, while driving from Loki's house to his, a speeding car struck Stephen's from behind and sent him spinning out of control off a cliff and forcing him to end up upside down near the river below. The person who caused the accident is yet to be found. And Stephen had been in surgery for 17 hours by the time Loki arrived at the hospital after school, right after he had gotten the news. He was still unconscious by then and practically looked like he had been forced through a meat grinder. Loki couldn't even glance up at him anymore, it made his heart twist into knots and make him want to throw up and sob. Not because he looked disgusting, although he certainly didn't look great, it was solely because of how his state reminded him of how hurt his boyfriend was. Loki couldn't imagine how much pain he was in. The cuts and scrapes on his face, the bruises on his arms, and the absolute wreck that his hands appeared to be, it all made him want to tear the skin off his bones. It hurt so much.

With a loud curse Loki snapped his notebook shut and pressed his face into it, doing his best to clear his mind instead of thinking all that he and Stephen had had together. The late nights of 'studying', the private dates, the stolen kisses at school... it had all slipped through their fingers because of one fucking idiot on the road.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe, despite it being a school night, Loki should have insisted on Stephen staying the night with him. None of this would have happened if he had done that. Of course it's my fault.

Although they were trembling badly and the fact that he was still on the verge of tears, Loki slowly opened his fists to check up on the mess of blood that was beginning to pool up under the curve of his claws, smeared across his pale skin and nails. As he heard the door open, Loki closed them tightly once again with only a tiny hiss of pain. It was the doctor.

"Please tell me he's going to be okay," Loki whispered after a few seconds of nothing but tentious silence between him and the doctor, the concerned expression that she had exhibited when she entered and noticed him already making his stomach churn. "I don't care if it's not the truth, please just tell me he's going to be okay."

She-Dr. Palmer, as it read on her name tag-sighed gently and walked over to the young man, placing a hand on his shoulder as she sat down next to him. He didn't consider that a good sign. "I'm not going to lie to you hon. But let me ask first. How are you connected to Stephen?"

"He's-*hic*-he's my boyfriend."

"Alright honey. I'll give you the bad news first. His hands have suffered an extreme amount of nerve damage to his hands, and the surgeries so far have done nothing to correct them. It's looking like his hands are irrefutably damaged. He's never going to be able to use them normally again. But that's only if he comes out of the coma, which he only has a 50% chance of," Dr. Palmer explained as gently as was possible as it was to tell a teenager how badly his partner was injured.

It was like Loki's already broken heart shattered. The previous night could very well have been their last time together. And sure, it was perfect, but was he satisfied with never being with Stephen again? "What?" Loki choked out.

"I am so sorry. I truly am, but there is some good news. The probability of his awakening has only been getting higher, so that 50% chance of him not coming out of the coma could very easily become zero percent in no time. And you can help with that too."

For the first time since the school day did Loki look hopeful. "I can? How?"

"Talk to him. Despite his state, he can hear you in there. Talk about your time together, the past- I know it might hurt you, and please don't push yourself out of your comfort zone, but do what you can. Okay?"

With a bit of hesitation Loki slowly nodded, once again removing his nails from his palms. "Okay. I can do that," he told her.

Dr. Palmer gave him a small smile and gently patted him on the back before she stood up again, quickly checking Stephen's vitals, and then left to most likely check on another patient. Loki then took advantage of the silence and pushed his chair over to Stephen's bedside, ignoring the blood smearing on the chair's armrests as he did so. He still stared down at his lap once he was close, fearing breaking down in tears for what seemed like the hundredth time, but he did have the courage to lift up one of his own hands and rest it on his bicep. "Hey." An immediate voice crack wasn't a great start. Not that he knew any other way to begin. Any thoughts of their past two years together made Loki want to sob, now especially since he knew that he could very possibly never make any new ones with him. But he couldn't just stay silent. He had to say something, anything to make his guilt of not making Stephen stay the night with him lessen just a little bit. And according to the doctor, talking about their happy memories together could actually help. Hopefully. But it was nonetheless better than crying his eyes out for no reason. "Remember how we started dating?" Loki paused as if he was asking for an answer. "We were sophomores. You were in my chemistry class, and I always thought you were really cute, but I was too scared to talk to you and you were too nervous to, so we passed nothing but awkward glances and sarcastic comments for months on end. Until we got paired up for a project and you asked for my number. I gave it enthusiastically of course. From there we started talking and flirting a bit, although still too anxious to actually make a move, until you grabbed me when we were in the library and pushed me up against the back wall and asked to kiss me. You can guess what my response was." He chuckled dryly. "I might be able to say that I was already in love with you when you pulled back for air and gave me that little gorgeous smirk of yours, pulled my hips to yours, and whispered 'can I do it again?'. I was putty in your hands in the Greek philosophy section."

Loki quickly fell silent at the mention of his hands. With a small swallow, he managed to continue with a low voice. "When we were science class partners, you would tell me about how much you wanted to become a doctor. A neurosurgeon to be specific. I didn't exactly know why yet, you told me that a few months into our romantic relationship, but I eagerly listened about your plans for Columbia nonetheless. Not that-" he was crying again, "-not that that'll be possible now." Loki cleared his throat and tried to wipe his tears away with his trembling hands. "Even if you wake up." The student began to gently stroke his boyfriend's bandaged bicep while still staring at his lap, watching water splash onto where the excess of his oversized hoodie was rolled up and darkened the gray fabric.

It was Stephen's hoodie.

Using his feet, Loki slowly began to push his chair back until he eventually hit the wall, bunching his hands up in the hoodie's collar and raising it up to his nose, inhaling the signature cologne that he had fallen in love with over the last two years. The hood was soon flipped over his head and his knees were brought up to his chest, curling himself into the fetal position, and then finally letting all his tears out into the secure housing of Stephen's smell. That's where he had always been safe, and no matter either of their states, it still worked. Loki actually fell asleep like that after half an hour or so.

Stephen's parents found him in the morning and called Loki's family, and Thor ended up carrying him back home.

But as soon as he woke up he went back to the hospital. He wasn't missing the possibility of Stephen waking up.

10/31/21

I've still been going to school. Because my parents want me to. But I'm not doing well. My grades are beginning to sink from it, and the teachers don't care. I can't focus in class, I'm just thinking about if Stephen's going to wake up or not. What if he's waking up alone while I'm in Calculus? What if he flatlines when I'm in history? There's just too many probabilities. I don't give a shit about my grades, I just want Stephen back. I know that's such a stupid little kid thing to say since we are high schoolers, but it's been two years! And he's shown me so much love and care in that time that I don't know what I'd do without him. Not that anyone else seems to care. This is why I want Stephen back, he's the only friend I have left. In real life friend I mean. And I don't say that like I'm attached to his hip all the time, we have our own private time that I respect, but they all moved away. Why am I defending myself to a notebook? God this hospital is making me crazy. Stephen looks better, which I'm really glad about. Dr. Palmer tells me I've helped a lot by staying and talking to him, he should most likely wake up soon, but she did tell me that I can go home soon instead of only leaving for school and for showering. But I'm not doing that. At least not until he wakes up. If- WHEN he wakes up, I bet I'll get a lecture for not taking care of myself well enough just for him, so I'll probably be forced to go home more. God, I want him to lecture me. Just to hear his voice again. It's been over three weeks. I don't think I've worn anything besides underwear that isn't his. Jeans, sweatpants, shirts, hoodies, everything. It's the least I can do to replace the feeling of him being with me. At this time, I can't help but think of our Halloween's together. The first one we weren't even a month into dating, so we just bought a bunch of candy and ate candy at home while watching horror movies. But the next year, after a full 12 months of being in love, we dressed up as Gomez and Morticia Addams. Stephen looked unfairly hot in that striped suit with his hair slicked back and a teasing smile on his face. That was some good sex we had later on. Stephen said he had a thing for the dress I had on, as well as the red lipstick, which I believe since his hands barely left my hips the entire time I had it on. He also grinned from ear to ear when he saw the lipstick kiss marks I put on his collar. I love him. God I do. Please... I need him back.

Loki closed the notebook after his last few words of desperation and slipped his pencil behind his ear, raising his head up to look at Stephen with glassy eyes. He looked peaceful. By then all his scrapes and cuts were mostly healed, which made him look way better, but his hands were still pinned up in suspended holds with ragged scars lining his rough skin. More surgeries had been done on them, and Dr. Palmer once again said that he would be permanently disabled when he woke. Once again it hurt Loki's heart to think about how much pain that he must be in. The swollen scars didn't look like they felt nice. "I'm so sorry," Loki whispered as he reached up to his face and gently brushed his overgrown hair out of his face, still feeling guilty about the incident. "If I just made you stay you would still be here with me." Moving around the bed's guard rail, Loki sat on the edge of the mattress and sunk his fingers into his thick hair once more, gently toying with it as he began to talk again. "Remember junior prom? It was on February 26th; on the same night as the public prom that the school had put together. (We wanted to be alone.) You put on this navy blue suit of yours that perfectly brings out your eyes, and I bought this short green dress that made you grab my ass as soon as I came out of the house. You gave me an Agapanthus corsage that you had made yourself. And then, you kissed me, and told me that the flower meant 'never-fading love'. Like ours." A tear fell down Loki's cheek and plopped down onto Stephen's bare bicep. "I don't exactly know where me telling this story was going, my mind is a bit fuzzy and has been for weeks, hospitals being bad places to sleep plus depression isn't really an equation for good sleep, so I'll just say this. I'm not going anywhere until you return. And when you do, I'm not leaving either. Your recovery, physical therapy, going back to school, I'm going to be by your side. Okay?" Loki gently kissed Stephen's forehead and continued to stroke his hair, his other hand resting on the crook of his elbow and gently stroking his skin as if he was soothing him. "So please wake up."

With one last small peck Loki reluctantly slipped off the bed to enter the hospital bathroom, quickly using the bathroom before rubbing the sink water on his face as if that would wake him up from the haze that he had been living in, just moving from the hospital to school to the hospital to school and so on so forth. It was just a cycle of being depressed and near and being depressed and far. Fun.

Just deciding to repress his emotions for the billionth time that month, Loki shoves it down and goes back out into the main room, taking a book of Hamlet out of his bag to pass the time before he uncomfortably fell asleep in the chair. Most likely in just an hour or two since it was almost midnight. Every time he knocked unconscious in the overly small hospital chair with no support whatsoever, in front of the bed that Stephen laid in, Loki missed their cuddling more and more. Stephen's arms around him and his nose buried in the back of his neck was always the highlight of Loki's day/night. And it had been weeks since he was actually held. And by god did he need it.

But these thoughts quickly made him feel selfish. The thought that he was whining about not being held or not having his boyfriend confirmed as okay while Stephen had been struck disabled and in a coma sickened him to his core. More and more guilt stacked on top of his chest until he felt like he couldn't breathe, forced to snap his book shut and slam it on the floor. Why did everything have to hurt so much even though he didn't have a scar on him to show as evidence of his pain? It just made him feel so fake.

Loki sunk down into his seat and covered his once again teary eyes with his palms, bouncing his leg against the floor and digging his nails into his bare forehead, letting everything crash over him like a third wave tsunami. Not as extreme as the first, but it just made the present damage worse. Stop it. Stop it. STOP it. STOP IT. Loki was three seconds away from screaming out all the pain in his heart. But then he heard a groan that didn't belong to him echo in the otherwise empty room.

His palms flew to his thighs and he looked up at Stephen.

And his eyes were open!

With a gasp Loki jumped up from his chair and cupped his boyfriend's face, trying not to get too close to shock him, but just needing to hold him and let him see him. "Stephen, you're up!"

"Dewdrop... what happened?"

The student wanted to cry. He could speak. His voice was a bit strained, clearly tired and weary from lack of use, but it was there and that was all that counted. But besides that, the question couldn't be ignored. "You were in a crash baby, right after you left my house. Someone tail-boned you and you skidded off a cliff. Darling... it's Halloween."

"What?!"

Maybe he could have put it better. But Loki didn't really know how to explain it in any other way. "It's okay, darling, it's okay. Please, just focus on me for a second. Could you do that? Not the pain, not the fact that it's three and a half weeks later than you can remember, please look at my eyes and focus on me," he instructed as best he could, gently stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs and praying that he didn't glance down at his hands that he most likely could barely feel. He wanted to break that to him gently.

"I can do that."

"Alright, good. So yes, you were in a car crash and have been in a coma for about 25 days. Most of your scrapes, cuts, and bruises, have thankfully been healed. But your hands... they were crushed on impact.

[lovemecharlie]

RedLight

Hennessy x Erik during the dating stages.

It had been a while since Erik had knocked boots with his favorite drug dealer and he couldn't deny that the sweet taste of Hennessy was heavy on his mind. Why hadn't she called him? He of all people understood busy but as busy as he was, even he could make time for what he wanted. 

And he wanted it really, really bad. 

Remembering about her spare key, he decided to pop up on her and wait for her at her place. When she came through, he'd ease her mind with a little wine and lotta dick. Being a student like him, she was used to pulling all-nighters without a break. It was damaging, but he had just what she needed to put her ass in a restful coma and that's what he planned to do. That was when he pulled up and saw that she was already at the crib, no doubt working herself tired. She probably wasn't in the mood for sex at all.

But he was and if she knew anything about him it was that he insisted on getting what he wanted. 

Letting himself in, he expected to see her miniature form sitting in her living room on her laptop. She wasn't there. Without a word, he went looking for her in every room wondering if she heard him and was hiding. That's when he heard her in the bathroom and boldly turned the knob. 

“Hennes-….” he paused in the entrance of her bathroom before kissing his teeth. “…Really? I aint get no damn pussy from you and you in here fingering ya self?”   

"You don't knock? GET OUT,” she shrieked, her small face flushed. She was pink, underwear at her ankles. He looked closer, eyes widening.  

“You got blood on your fi-," he paused suddenly understanding why she hadn't called. "Uh.. That's cool..," he faultered. 

“Erik, GET OUT,” Hennessy growled covering with her hand as he stepped closer instead, entering the bathroom. She was now as close to beet red as a light brown girl could get.

"Yo, don't trip," he spoke hands up in surrender. Hennessy looked shaken, irritated by his continued presence. He looked away hoping to fix things. "...That Haitian client you hooked me up with? Bangin Piru this week too,” he said matter-of-factly. Hennessy closed her eyes, itching for him to walk away but he only stepped closer.

“But.. where’s your pad? Tampon," he gestured causing her to jump, kissing her teeth as she pointed to the exit. "I don’t see a string,” he stared. She covered herself again to protect from his overly curious eyes.

"ERIK. I swear. IF I HAVE TO SAY IT AGAIN!"

"Don't say it again." Pausing her fit of anger with a finger-touch to her forehead and a stern look that told her to chill, he squatted for a closer look at her equipment, tilting his head and reaching up. 

"STOP," Hennessy swatted stumbling back awkwardly.

"Hennessy stop," he ordered, flipping it, "My hands clean." Grasping her thigh with one hand to hold her still so he wouldn't scratch her, he reached up inside of her with his bare fingers. Seemingly oblivious to the thin layer of blood collecting on the tip of his thumb and index, he pulled out her diva cup and stared blankly into it with confusion like it was a science project and she was appalled, too stunned to move. "It’s a cup," he marveled. 

“POUR IT IN THE TOILET,” Hennessy snapped, mortified. She snatched the emptied cup turning in his hand to handwash it at her sink. “WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHY ARE YOU HERE?”  

“Pussy.. Ain’t I just say that?” He lifted her onto the bathroom counter spreading her thighs as he would on a usual booty call and she immediately attempted to get down. They were besties and excellent fuck buddies, but this was too damn much for her. 

“Not on my sink, STOP! Erik I’m BLEEDING.”    

“Like you ain’t been covered in it before," he side-eyed.

"Don't bring up the past, fathead," she mumbled pushing at his chest and shoulders but he continued. 

"This time it just so happens to be yours.”  

“That was different and your ass knows it,” she wined shoving him, still unable to find her way down since he wouldn’t move from between her thick legs. Her feet dangled kicking of the panties stretched between her ankles. She could feel herself leaking more blood and bleeding freely on the smooth surface and it felt dirty as if she needed to shower and clean the bathroom.

"It's not that different..," he replied. "Regardless, you've already belched, farted, shitted, and threw up, around me.. but I’m supposed to be turned off by a little blood now?” He scoffed.

"That's a lie," Hennessy bucked, smacking him against his head. "Princesses don't do all that!" When he lumped it all together like that it sounded gross. Erik used his clean fingers to drop his white crisp sweatpants with his briefs to throw them to out passed the bathroom door and followed up with throwing his ripped denim jacket and pulling off his white No Signal hoodie. Meanwhile, Hennessy looked for an exit, but she was trapped whith Erik standing between her thighs, holding her knees still when she attempted  to move. 

"Relax.. It’s just blood..,” he commented feeling her nerves. He'd been around enough blood for it not to scare him. His fingers found their way between her thighs and he could feel the taboo wet warmth. Pulling back, he licked his finger and her jaw dropped. “Lil extra shot of Henny,” he shrugged, "What?"

“Eck.. I’m a throw up.” She closed her eyes and heaved, suddenly nauseous. She knew her adventurous boy best friend to be nasty, but not that nasty. She didn’t know how to react. 

“I’m not fucking you on my period, Erik. It's not happening,” she said calmly trying to remove him from her sight. 

“Stop trippin, we’ll sanitize everything after.”  

“I’m not fucking you on my period. Period!”   

“Princess, it's just blood.. It washes off. Here, let's try it this way.” Turning on her shower, he ran his fingers under the water waiting until the water turned hot. “See, easy.” Drawing the shower curtain, he beckoned her with a finger and she approached with trepidation. “Take your clothes off and hop in the shower.” 

He watched intently as she hesitantly removed her camisole. She wasn't wearing a bra since she was in the house and her pendulous carmel boobs sat perky on her chest. 

“Pretty ass titties,” he muttered pulling her arm and pushing her into the shower. He handed her her loofah and body wash. “Clean yourself up so I can give you what I came to give.”

After staring him down, Hennessy grabbed the loofah and began to scrub herself with her wild honeysuckle body wash. The room took on the sweet and mild scent and Erik gazed at his bestie's wet and sudsy body glowing in the light of her bathroom. 

“You look like a glazed donut,” he smirked, his eyes dropping to the red-streaked water at her feet. It looked as if she'd been badly wounded on the battlefield. “…With jam filling," he frowned waiting on the water to clear some. He felt impatient. His dick was hard and waiting. "That's enough, you can't stop the blood it's gonna come." Dipping into the shower, he came behind her to hold her hips, dragging his hands up her sides and pulling back.. waiting for her to face him instead of the water. When she grabbed hold of his dick, he looked down at her manicured hand stroking him slowly and she pressed her wet body into his, her titties to his stomach as she grasped his dick firmly, stroking it up with the slickness of the water. His hands groped and fondled her boobs, her hardened nipples kissed to his palms as his dick lengthened, bumping her own stomach as she stroked it closer to her against her glossy skin. "I knew you were horny," he smiled, white teeth glowing as her hand slid up and down his length. 

"Nigga shut up," she whispered, her soft baby-ish voice more evidence of how in the mood she was. He slid his upturned palm down her stomach and through the pillars of her thighs to cup her pussy, letting it sit in his hand before sliding his palm back and forth against it, dragging his finger between the outer lips. 

"Turn around," he directed, twisting her hips noticing the streams of red water passing him on the shower floor. With back turned, she reached back in continuation of her prior actions, stroking him up and down firmly, pressing her ass against his erection until he took his dick back, stroking it himself.. slapping it on her asscheeck. No words were needed, Hennessy bent forward, palms steadying her weight against the wall  as she planted her feet apart. She would've never called Erik for sex on her period, no matter how horny she was, but feeling the slick head of his smooth dick sliding down and up over two entrances had her thanking him silently in her head for appearing to her. 

Erik bent his knees a bit to meet her height so that her ass would come down on his lap almost, his dick gliding over her asshole to the space between that and her vagina. Rubbing his dick all over once more with his hand, he stroked himself inside of her causing her to grab the back of her own thigh up to her ass in order to open herself up more. 

"Erikkkk," she sighed in bliss trying to let him in as much as possible. His hands held tightly to her waist, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of her hips.. grounding him to her as he swung his hips up into her. The further she bent, her palm positions lowering against the wall, the straighter his thrusts became. 

"UHH," she moaned breathily with a smile back in his direction. He gave short, measured, consistent thrusts as the water from the shower sprayed over their bodies. 

Then Erik, in his rhythm, lifted Hennessy's honeybun resembling asscheek high in his grip and dug into her pussy further.. dropping her asscheek to watch the jiggle spread as he thrusted faster moving into his typical pace, his hand on her back as if it were a table meant to serve himself the pussy. Her ass was clapping against him now and in true Hennessy fashion, she threw it all the way back with soft panting as he caught the wave, letting her fuck him. It was music to both sets of ears, the sounds of water, moaning, breathing, skin to skin claps, and the occasional low volume cuss word from Erik's mouth. 

"C'mon Princess, you fuck me better than that," he goaded tapping her thigh, "Giddyup," he smirked smacking it four times more for good measure as went harder trying to knock him back with her ass. He held on tight to her waist like he was in a rodeo and as she bucked, his hands traveled to her curly black high bun gripping it gently for leverage since her body was slippery. "Fuck me… Yesss... Throw that ass," he chuckled hearing her soft purrs half-hidden under the spray of water. "Princess I can't hear you.. You know I like to hear you enjoying this dick."

Hennessy was working hard, completely lost in panting mewls and the quest for her nut as he held onto her making her feel as though he were surrounding her. She felt protected as his hand slid across her lower back slapping down and squeezing on her asscheek before grabbing her hips again and fucking her harder. 

"Down," he mumbled though she could barely hear and she flattened her back down further improving the angle of which she felt him. It felt like he was directly on her spot and she moaned loudly as he pulled her ass flush against his pelvis, throwing her forward in thrusts that threatened to make her cum on the spot as her titties wobbled and shook with gravity, only held back by his occasional groping and squeezing.

"OooOoOH," she mewled on edge and ready to climb the wall as he squeezed her nipple. That's when he hit her with the killer upstrokes that had her cumming all on him and he pulled out finishing at the same time on her back watching it rinse off her slippery ass onto the floor and down the drain. 

Inspecting his dick, there was only minimum damage. He had some blood there but it was easily washed away as Hennessy let him use her Honeysuckle body wash to clean himself.

"What I tell you?" He eyed her smugly watching her take a deep breath and act like she didn't just come hard on him. "Period sex just what you be needing, bestie.. Listen to me more often."

"Stop," Hennessy smirked stubbornly. "That was the last time for that, nigga. Red light." 

Her stubbornness only made him giggle. Finding her cleaning spray he immediately took to spraying down the mess they made on her sink as he hit the Woah, careful not to spray her cup in the process.

"In case you ain't know this, Princess.. I run red lights," he smiled watching her wash up through the mirror before looking at him. 

"....Shut the hell up, you are lame," she giggled, tickled. He couldn't help but feel clever.

"Nah but forreal. You work hard, you deserve a lil something, and a period don't stop nothing but a sentence."

"Um, the door," Hennessy pointed to the door, holding her boobs in her arm. He snickered.

"Cool. Meet me in your bedroom when you finish.. I got your favorite wine waiting on you."

The End.

@hennessystevens-udaku

[i-just-tardis-blue-myself]

Hello, anon!!

I’m guessing you’re asking me this because of the post I made regarding ff the other night. The truth is, I didn’t get to read many whouffaldi fics in ff and I haven’t read a whole lot whouffaldi fics since then. I always circle back to the same authors and stories, because when I tried to read new stuff after it didn’t affect me the way they did back in the day.

So the four authors I mentioned in my early post are the ones I would recommend you to check out. They were, I dare say, the hottest whouffle writers at the time. They all started by publishing Eleven/Clara (good old souffez)  and Other Doctors/Clara fics, so if you ship “whouffle” and not only “whouffaldi” you’ll find a gold mine worth of fiction. They all ended up writing Twelve/Clara stories, but not as many with the exception of maybe C1araosw1ad who posted her last whouffaldi fic in 2019.

So that being said, here are my recomendations:

Frombluetored

Heartlines (rated T)

An unknown threat sucks the Doctor and Clara into a parallel universe and leaves them stranded. While biding their time, they encounter the Clara of that universe and her achingly familiar husband.

This story has an especial place in my heart because Heartlines takes place in the same universe of  “Of adoration and chaos” an Eleven/Clara fic written by the same author. I’d say “Of adoration” is one of the best souffez fics out there and you don’t need to read it to understand Heartines, but you’ll be missing a great piece of fiction.  

Everest (rated T)

AU. The Doctor, recently promoted to CEO after the early passing of John Smith, enters his new job with short-lived surety. And then he meets the COO, Clara Oswald, who's just as determined to show the Doctor who's really in charge as she is to show him he'll never live up to his predecessor. Unfortunately for them, control doesn't exist in matters of the heart.

This one contains heavy subjects, so if you aren’t comfortable with high rates of smut and unhealthy coping mechanism this story isn’t for you. This fic wasn’t an easy ride, but it was worth the effort.

Banged up ( rated M)

There were many things Clara Oswald expected when she entered prison. Catching the eye of the prison's most notorious inmate was not one of them.

I remember this fic being really, really sexy, but also sad and angsty af. It is also unfinished and you might want to avoid that level of masochism, but hey, where is the fun in that?

Paper machine (rated K+)

Clara Oswald's timeless relationship with the Doctor, as seen through the eyes of her smitten student.

This fic is so precious and adorable. I love it to pieces. It contains a bit of 11/clara too, like most of frombluetored  fics.

E1evenc1ara

In another life (rated M)

A collection of AU one-shots featuring Clara and the the Doctor (Ten, Eleven, and/or Twelve). These are all written in response to prompts supplied by my tumblr users, which will be displayed at the top of each story.

Listen, the second story broke me in million little pieces. I’ll never over that pain. Totally worth it tho.

Again, If you dig Eleven/Clara, I would recomend you to check out The IT guy and its sequel Postcards from New York  by the author.

Dreamcatcher (rated T)

This is supposed to be a doctor x clara but I couldn’t picture any other Doctor than Twelve. I’ll die on this hill.

Happy Endings (rated M)

The Doctor and Clara attend a Royal Wedding in the thirty-first century where they have a bit too much to drink.

They get drunk, they bang, the Doctor is a wrecked mess after, but everything turns all right. Pure bliss, my dudes.

D Veleniet

Hold onto me (rated K+)  

Clara stood frozen, reeling from too many emotions to even name. All she could do was stare. "Doctor?" She approached him slowly, carefully. "What's happened to you?" She swallowed against the grief that threatened to cloud her voice. "Why are you acting like this?"

The author wrote this fic in 2013, before series 8 aired and reader, the way she was on absolute point with Twelve’s characterization. I mean, Twelve being a grumpy old Scottish lil shit pointing out Clara’s physical “flaws” to deflect from the fact that he’s absolutely in love with her check. Twelve being a huge ass softie for Clara check. My heart being compromised by their dynamic and how much they love each other CHECK (also I’m so greatful Twelve never called Clara “wee” in the show, I would have slapped him)

Untouchable (rated M)

Clara stopped missing the touches, stopped smarting from his flinches when they would accidentally brush up against each other or bump arms. She stopped wondering what had changed so much inside him that had made her physically repulsive to him now. Then one night she agreed to a set-up on a blind date.

This is a sexy sequel for Hold onto me in which everything hurts, but also everything is very hot. So yeah, yeah.

This author wrote, problably the most famous eleven/clara fic back in the day : The other has my heart and its sequel More than you know They were litsed in every fic rec and rightly so.

C1araoswa1d

The Tethers Between Hearts (rated k+)

On a quiet little planet, the Doctor shares something very important with Clara.

If I could cover myself with this achingly soft piece of writing, I would. Because I can’t, I do the second best thing which is rereading it over and over, until I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Waking Dreams (rated T)

(Doctor Who AU) Life is complicated enough for Clara after an accident puts her young daughter in a coma, but through her only means of communication with the girl - an in-dream interface system - she's meets an odd company representative who promises to help her along, quite possibly in more ways than she could ever imagine.

Welcome to Angstown, populatiom : THIS FIC

A Mirage in Time  (rated M )

After Clara, the Doctor seeks out an Echo to help him move on… and finds himself just as perplexed by her and possibly just as in love.

I love C1araoswa1d’s writing so much, specially the way she depicts Clara. IDK man, part of my undying love for the character comes from the way she characterizes Clara in her stories. So yeah, please go and read all her fics. They are amazing, specialy How to fall in love with a time traveller and A path out of the dark

Bonus track, my dudes.

Anon, I know you asked me for my favorite ff.net whouffaldi fics, but I cannot left twelveclara out of this list. Her fics are iconic and you have probably read them, but fuck it.

History, like love

There are planets orbiting her eyes and her mouth tastes like the ocean; in her head she hears a shatter, like her soul has pried her ribs apart in a desperate, aching attempt to reach his. “If I could have picked anybody,” he murmurs, “it would have been you.”

My favorite soulmate au ever written in any fandom. periodt

But we’re so happy

from the outside looking in; so, maybe river’s right. people always stare at what they can’t touch.

punk rock au. Perfection in all its unfinished magnificence.

[snortyport]

Trapped - JJK Chapter 11

Summary-  You get to know the beautiful stranger but will the kids accept and trust him as quickly as you have? Or are you being blinded by his good looks?

Word Count- 2027

Pairing- Jungkook x reader

Warning- swearing maybe, mentions of a very minor character death, I think mentions of blood

A/N- Thanks so much to everyone reading. I had this chapter done for a while but I forgot to post it lol

Previous | Masterlist | Next

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“Ok, wait, so you’re telling me that you went bungee jumping and sky diving in the same day? Were they offering a two for one death deal?” you say staring at him with wide eyes and an incredulous smile on your face. The two of you had been talking for so long, neither of you have noticed that the sky has started changing from deep black to inky blue.

“I did and it was exhilarating. Jumping into nothing but air makes you feel alive. It’s so crazy, like, you hype yourself up so much when you’re in the plane but once you jump,” he sighs happily and leans back against the couch, “instant clarity. You forget all your worries and you just focus on the world around you. Just incredible,” he looks up at the ceiling as his mind drifts into a faraway memory.

“That sounds amazing,” you say softly. “Did you go alone or did friends go with you?”

His smile slowly fades from his face and he shifts his eyes to look at his hands, his demeaner changing from bliss to sullen.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” you say quietly.

“No, it’s ok. It’s an innocent question. Why wouldn’t someone ask if friends went,” he says, his gaze still focused on his hands.

“If you don’t want to talk about it…”

“My friends did come with me. Not skydiving but on that trip,” he mumbles. “They’re my best friends and I honestly don’t think I’d be here without them. Sometimes I feel like they raised me,” he chuckles.

“Are they the ones that gave you the jacket?” you ask.

“Yeah. It was expensive and I’d been saving up for it for so long but then I lost my job and couldn’t find another one, so I had to use my savings to keep living. They all chipped in to buy it for me for my birthday as a surprise,” he smiles fondly. “I was so happy when they gave it to me…”

“They sound great,” you smile at him but he’s still looking away. His smile slips from his face again and he wrings his hands together.

“They were, yeah,” he swallows thickly.

“Were?”

“They’re all older than me so when this hit…” he slowly shifts his gaze to look at you.

“They’re all in comas right now,” you finish for him. He nods his head and looks away from you again. “I’m so sorry,” you place your hand on his arm in what you hope is comfort for him. He sends a small smile your way before looking away again.

“We had all taken the day off because we were all going to take a trip together. We were packing the vehicle and waiting for the oldest to get there and suddenly my friends just… dropped. Passed out,” he blinks his eyes rapidly to get rid of the tears that sprang to his eyes. “While I was checking on them, I heard a crash from outside and when I went to check it out… there were cars crashed into each other everywhere, people passed out on the street, and my friend’s car—” his voice breaks and he looks up to the ceiling.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard,” you whisper, squeezing his arm tighter.

“It looked like a car had t-boned him and he… he,” he swallows passed the lump in his throat, “he didn’t make it. I checked for a pulse and I couldn’t find one. I tried calling an ambulance, but nothing would go through. He just sat there in his car, dead, and there was nothing I could do! He was my best friend!”

The tears he was so carefully trying to keep at bay, freefall down his cheeks and drip onto his chest. He covers his face with his hands, bends forward, and he cries. You scoot closer on the couch and you wrap your arm around his back while you other hand rubs his knee.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold your own tears in. Don’t cry, this isn’t about me.

After a minute, he sits back up and wipes his face with his sleeves. He swallows hard and lets a deep breath out.

“I’m sorry. I guess I haven’t really processed it yet. I pushed it the back of my mind and didn’t let myself think about it,”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to apologise for mourning your friend,” you tell him. He clenches his jaw and another tear rolls down his cheek.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat and looks at you, “After talking to a few people, I decided to just leave. I hoped to find someone with answers or anything really. And hey, I’ve always wanted to travel, and this is my last chance, so…” he shrugs, “I have no one left awake, no friends, no family, just me…” his voice catches again but he clears his throat and shakes his head.

This poor guy. Losing everyone he’s close to at the same time, losing his best friend, not being near family…

Oh, shit, I haven’t even thought of my own family. I’m the youngest in my immediate family so everyone in my family are in comas. Well hopefully are and not dead somewhere.

Oh god what if they were driving at the time? Or they got hit or what if they’re outside and the elements are hurting them?

Fuck, it’s my birthday in eight months.

What’s going to happen to the children when me and the other young adults fall into comas? How are they going to make it?

You heart races as you start to panic.

“Hey, you ok?”

A cold hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts and brings you back to the here and now. Your stare travels between his hand perched on your shoulder and his concerned face.

“Sorry, you just got really quiet and you started shaking,” he hastily removes his hand.

“It’s ok, I’m fine,” you tell him. “It just kind of hit me that my family is… and that I’ll…”

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. At his kind words, your eyes fill with tears that threaten to fall down your face.

“What’s going to happen to the kids when I go into one? What’ll end up happening to us all? Are we just going to lay in comas for the rest of our lives and eventually die from old age but really we died at twenty six?” Your starting to work yourself up into a scared frenzy. “I’ll be twenty six in eight months. How are they going to make it? God we can’t even get back to town without that quad and fucking Will has taken the garage over!”

“Everything is going to be ok. I can’t say for certain what’s going to happen in twenty years, but right now, I’m here and I can help you. I’ll do whatever I can to help you get back to town,” he grabs your hands and holds them tight. “I’ll help anyway I can.”

“But what about your trip? Don’t you want to keep going? We’ve kept you here longer than you probably wanted to already. You wanted to find answers, how are you going to do that if you stay here?,” you say, keeping your hands in his. “Wait, when do you turn twenty six?”

“Uh, in a couple months. My birthday is September first, and it’s the middle of June so… not a lot of time left,” he murmurs. You snap your eyes to his. “And I found that radio remember? I’ve got all the answers I’m looking for right there.”

He seems so calm, how is he taking this so well?

“You should keep going though. We’ll figure something out. You have to keep searching and staying here longer will cut your distance,” you urge him. “Tomorrow, you’ll go. We have eight months to figure something out. We’ll be fine,” you smile past your worries to try to prove that you’re fine.

“I’m not leaving until you and those kids are safe. I’d never be able to live with myself if I could have helped and didn’t and something happened to you,” he gives your hand one more squeeze before letting go to run his hands through his hair. Your heart flutters at the movement. Your eyes flick down the sliver of golden skin exposed from his stretch.

Snap out of it, now is not the time to jump his bones. I’m terrible, how could I be turned on right now? You snap your gaze away as he brings his hands back down to his lap, his shirt covering his tight tummy.

“Thank you. I do really appreciate you sticking around and helping us. Just know I’m going to feel guilty until you leave,” you say, only half joking.

He has such a shorter amount of time than you, and now you’re pausing his journey. You feel terrible but you’re going to try to hide that as best you can. You don’t want to make this incredible human even more sad than he already is. He has a lot more to burden than you so you’re going to push past qualms you have.

“We’ll have to hurry and fix that quad then. I’d hate for you to feel bad for too long,” he smiles at you and bumps your shoulder.

“And I’d hate for you to put off your trip for too long,” you bump his shoulder back. He brings his arm around your back and squeezes your arm.

His arm stays wrapped around you, and you sink into his side, enjoying the warmth and comfort he gives off. You lean your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you a little closer to his body. It oddly doesn’t feel weird snuggling with a complete stranger. He feels so warm and welcoming that you want to melt into his embrace forever. To have his arms wrapped around you, his warm breath against you neck, forever would be heaven.

And when he leans back to look into your eyes, you openly stare back. You know this really isn’t the time for romance; Will could attack at any minute, the kids could wake up and catch you, half the world is dead or in comas and the other half is struggling to figure things out and live. Hell, you were just giving yourself shit for thinking that way.

But this moment feels so right and he clearly wants something to happen too. Right? And why can’t you indulge one last time? Things feel so right with Jungkook. Feelings you’ve never felt with anyone have sprouted and he’s going to be leaving soon so why not give into your feeling just this once, even if it is happening really fast?

He slowly brings his face closer to yours. Your heart speeds up in excitement, your eyes dropping to his perfect mouth. How can someone be so perfect and where has he been all your life? He pushes a lock of hair behind your ear and cups your cheek. Your lips are a breath away from each other when he stops. His eyes search yours and you stare back softly.

You want this. You want to kiss him so badly. You want his lips on yours, to feel the heat from his mouth over yours. You place your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath the soft shirt. Your hands move up to his shoulders, giving the hard muscle under your hand a gentle squeeze. You tilt your head up to his in wanting. He closes his eyes and you follow suit as his face slowly closes the distance betwe—

“What the hell is going on!” a voice rings out from behind you in the hallway.

You push Jungkook away from you and you spin around to see Kyle glaring daggers at the man beside you. Kyle’s face burns red as his body tenses up, looking ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

“Kyle what are you doing up already?” you ask him frantically. Why do you feel like you just got caught doing something bad? Maybe this was a mistake?

“I woke up early and I heard talking so I came out to make sure it wasn’t Will and I find this! Who even is this guy?” he yells, pointing to Jungkook.

“I’m Jungkook. I’m here to help,” he stands up, takes a step closer and holds his hand out for a handshake. Kyle stares at his hand in disgust and crosses his arms, staying put in his spot.

“Help with what?” Kyle asks, turning to you in a huff.

“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll explain,” you motion towards the chair. Kyle continues looking at you through narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. “Ok well, Jungkook has been watching us and—”

“He’s been watching us!” he shoots forward and pushes Jungkook against the wall, his meaty arm pressing against his throat. Jungkook’s eyes bug out of his head but he doesn’t try to fight back.

“Kyle!” you scream, jumping up from the couch. You pull on Kyle’s arm, but he doesn’t budge. “Stop it! Let him go!”

“What’s going on?” Haley’s tired voice echoes behind you. You give her a quick glance, taking in her sleepy expression morphing into a wide, scared eye stare before turning back to the scene in front of you.

“You just said he’s been watching us! How do we know we can trust him!” Kyle yells. “He could be here to kill us!”

“That was his jacket in the garage! He was waiting for us to leave so he could get it and go! That’s why he’s been watching us! Now let him go!” you wrap your hands around his bicep and pull as hard as you can.

Kyle narrows his eyes more, pressing his weight against Jungkook harder before dropping his arm and stepping back. Jungkook gasps in a breath and rubs his neck. Kyle holds his arm out so when he steps back you have no choice but to step back with him. He turns around, grabs your arm and pulls you into the kitchen. Haley and Noah come to join you and you stare at Noah in confusion.

“Haley came and got me in case you needed more hands,” he says, trying to fend off a yawn. You nod and turn back to Kyle.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asks you roughly in a low voice.

“I told you. He’s here to help us,” you whisper back. “He’s been here most of the night. If he really wanted to hurt us, he would have already,”

“I don’t trust him,” he crosses his arms over his chest again and sends a glare over to him. The other two also turn to look at him.

You peek around Kyle’s huge form to follow his gaze to Jungkook. He’s sitting on the couch again and he must feel the four pairs of eyes on him because he looks over at the four of you. His cheeks blush a soft shade of pink. You smile at the sight of him and he gives you a shy smile back before looking down at his hands.

Kyle turns back around; sees you smiling at Jungkook and grabs your arm to stand you upright again. Haley looks back at you with a knowing smile on her face. Noah turns to Haley, a wrinkle between his eyebrows. She clasps her hand around his lower arm and whispers something to him, which makes him smile and look at you with the same expression. Your cheeks warm under their gazes. Kyle leans down to catch your attention before straightening up to his full height. You have to crane you neck to look at him from this close proximity.

“Do you trust me?” you ask him.

“You know I do,”

“Then you need to trust me that he’s a good guy,” you say.

He clenches his jaw and runs his hand over his face. He crosses his arms and stares hard into your eyes. He sighs and drops his arms and let’s them dangle by his sides.

“I don’t like it,” he breathes in deeply, “but I trust you, so I guess I’ll trust him.” He takes a small step closer, so close that if you didn’t lean back your nose would be touching his chest. “But if he does anything suspicious then he’s out,” he says seriously.

“He hasn’t given me any reason to not believe him, so we need to accept his help,” you stare up at him, holding his gaze.

He turns around without answering and stalks up to where Jungkook is sitting. He scrambles to his feet and stands chest to chest with Kyle, tilting his head up to look into his eyes.

“If you do anything to hurt her or any of us, I will end you,” he growls in his face.

“I-I promise,” he stutters.

Haley and Noah exchange glances before making their way over and making introductions. You let a small sigh of relief out and you join the others. Kyle maneuvers himself between Jungkook and the couch and he sits down in the spot Jungkook was sitting on. Kyle looks at you and pats the spot beside him. You flick your eyes to Jungkook, smiling softly at him before sitting down. He sits down in the chair in the corner and Noah sits on the last spot on the couch. Haley sits on Noah’s lap and grabs his hands to wrap around her waist when they fly up in surprise.

You spend the next couple hours explaining and talking through everything Jungkook had already told you. There’s a niggling worry in the back of you mind about Will. Why he hasn’t tried anything yet? What is he waiting for? Did he leave? Did something happen to him?

Sunlight starts streaming in through the window and muffled voices can be heard in one of the bedrooms. Birds songs fill the air outside, making nice background music when the conversation lulls into silence.

A door squeaks open, and the pitter patter of feet come thundering down the hall and bursting into the living room.

“Good morning!” Jeannie screams but comes screeching to a halt when her eyes land on Jungkook. “Who’s that?”

Lilly comes up behind her, follows her stare and stares warily at him.

“What are you guys doing just standing there?” Jamie asks as he rounds the hallway and goes straight for the fridge without looking over. “What’s left for breakfast?” he asks, bending over and peering inside. When no one answers, he straightens up and looks into the living room. “Oh,” he says when he sees Jungkook.

Jungkook gives a small wave and smiles. “I’m Jungkook. It’s nice to meet you,”

“That’s a weird name,” Jeannie says, wrinkling her nose.

“Jeannie, that’s not nice,” Jamie scolds her.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, staring over at him with big eyes.

“Oh, it’s ok,” he says, giving her a small smile. Now that most of the kids are out here, Jungkook seems nervous. He wrings his hands together and crosses his legs at the ankles. “How about I make some breakfast for everyone? Do you want to help me?” he asks Jeannie, lifting his brows at her.

“Can I?” she gasps, her face instantly brightening. “Miss Y/N, can I help?”

“If Mr. Jungkook says you can help, then of course you can,” you smile at her excitement.

She lets out a happy squeal and rushes Jungkook, much to his surprise. She grabs his hand and pulls him; he scrambles to his feet and lets himself be dragged into the kitchen. You watch them puttering around the kitchen looking for anything that’s left with a content smile on your face. Lilly moves to take Jungkook’s spot on the chair and Jamie sits on the floor by her feet.

Stop quivering, ovaries, we’re not having children with this man.

Jungkook looks over his shoulder at you, catching you staring, and he sends you a radiant smile back. Your heart beats harder at the domestic scene playing before you. Kyle clears his throat and you snap your head to look at him.

“So, are we going to talk about what we’re going to do or are you just going to keep eye fucking him?” Kyle asks gruffly. Hayley gasps and bends forward to look past you at him, which makes Noah grunt and tighten his hands into fists.

“Watch your mouth! That was so rude,” she says. “If Miss Y/N wants to look at him she can. She’s not doing anything wrong!”

“We’re in the middle of a crisis and you think flirting with someone is the best thing to be doing?”

Hayley’s cheeks turn pink and she wiggles awkwardly on Noah’s lap. “I think at times like these, being with someone you care about is the right choice. If you need to talk to someone, they’re there. If you need a shoulder to cry on, they’re there. If you want to feel special and not alone in a time where everything is going to shit, then, they’re there. Finding someone you want to be with in a crisis isn’t a bad thing,” she twists and smiles at Noah, who during her speech, had a small smile playing on his lips and his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. He smiles wide at her when he locks eyes with her.

Kyle scoffs and leans back in his seat. “I still think we should be focusing on other things.”

“Nothing is going on between me and Jungkook so let’s drop that,” you tell them.

And it’s the truth, all you’ve done is talk and almost kiss. But you didn’t so Kyle has no right to talk that way. He almost sounds jealous and that’s not ok. You need to talk to him about his little crush and his touching. It’s getting very inappropriate. Especially if this is how he’s going to act around Jungkook or anyone else you find attractive.

“I agree. Let’s talk about something else,” Lilly says from the corner.

“Fine,” Kyle grunts.

“What are we going to do about the quad?” Hayley asks, leaning back against Noah in defeat. “I know what’s wrong with it. I thought about it last night and I figured it out,” she says looking at you.

“Really? What?” you ask, a small fluttering of hope ignites in your belly.

“It’s dead. It just needs a boost and I remember seeing a battery booster in the garage,” she says happily.

It’s dead. Fuck.

The smile fades from your face as you remember what Jungkook told you. Vehicles stopped working. How are you supposed to get back now?

“I know, Will is out there, but there’s no way he can take all of us at the same time, right?” she says trying to get you hopeful again.

“I’m sure we could take him with all of us, but vehicles don’t work anymore. That’s why none of the survivors have come to check up on us,” you say quietly. Hayley deflates as she remembers the news you told her.

“The quad should work, actually. It’s old enough that is has no new technology on it, so it should be fine,” Jungkook calls from the kitchen where he’s breaking the last of the eggs into a bowl that Jeannie is stirring.

“That’s good then!” Hayley beams, filling up with hope again. “We’ll be able to get back and check on who’s survived.”

“Wait, survivors? What do you mean?” Lilly asks, looking at Hayley in confusion before turning her gaze to stare hard at you.

You hate being the barer of bad news, but they need to know what’s happened. They deserve to know what’s happened to their parents, siblings. And so, you replay the news that Jungkook told you. And when breakfast is served and finished, you’re still explaining and answering questions.

By the time you’re done, tears have filled almost every eye, terror has filled every heart, and hope for a better future has been replaced with complete and utter despair in everyone.

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Welp there you go! I hope you enjoyed it and please don’t come at me for Jin. Also I feel like I should mention, I don’t actually think technology is some big bad killer that is causing health problems. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Tagged: @anatron9000​, @sugalarity​

[beautifulletdownfics]

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #22

Nina POV (Text messages - Harry Bold / Nina Italics)

++

Well.

Well?

That was truly wonderful. You stole the show. You have a beautiful voice. Your dance moves will get there x

Why thank you, Nina Mae. Are you offering dance lessons?

I mean it, Harry. It was amazing. You radiated joy. You should be proud.

❤️

++

“Nina, Nina, the whole day though ...”

I grinned at the deep, familiar singing voice, snuggling my cheek further into my pillow and bringing the blankets up to my eyes that I kept shut.

“… Just an old sweet song, keeps Nina on my mind …”

The bed sagged at my feet and I brought my legs up to my chest, trying to somehow root myself to the mattress. I wasn’t ready to be woken up yet.

“… I said a Nina, Nina, a song of you comes sweet and clear as moonlight through the pines …”

A hand grabbed for my calf and another started tugging at my sheets playfully. I groaned and held them tightly, hearing a deep breath pass through his nose.

“… Oh! Nina, Nina!”

I huffed dramatically and kicked my legs and the blankets to the end of the bed, sitting up and trying to muster up a harsh glare but failing miserably.

“Hello, my sweet,” my Dad greeted, smiling broadly at me, “Happy Christmas.”

“What’s up, Dad,” I greeted casually, stretching my arms above my head before rocking forward onto my knees to give him a kiss as I threw my legs around to put my feet on the carpet of my childhood bedroom.

“Sorry I wasn’t around yesterday or last night,” he said, leaning forward again to kiss my forehead, he turned so we were sitting side by side on the edge of the creaky twin bed.

“Ah,” I dismissed him, “My Dad’s a hotshot, I’m used to it.”

“You’re my hotshot, sweetheart.”

He’d been in France all week, rehearsing with and then conducting an orchestra in Paris for a Christmas Eve performance at the Palace of Versailles. He’d done the same performance the last few years, which is why this year not even my mum joined him, she opted to stay and be terrorised by all the cousins who were home for the holidays.

“How did it go?” I asked him, he must have only just gotten in.

“Excellent,” He said, “I ate at least two croissants a day, it was bliss.”

I laughed, “Is Laykn up yet?”

Dad shook his head and gave me wink, “I thought you might—

But before he had even finished his sentence I had jumped up and was clapping my hands together happily as I crossed the room, “Oh goodie.”

I skipped down the small hallway the connected the rooms of the upstairs of our house, pausing only for a second at my little brother’s door to look back at our dad who was laughing at me fondly from the top of the stairs. He gave me a nod and I threw open the door.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY DEAREST BROTHER!”

Laykn’s bedroom was dark but I knew it almost as well as I knew my own, I took a few large steps and just as he had yelled at me to fuck off, I launched myself onto his backside.

“I swear to god, Nina!”

He blindly swung his limbs around to get at me, but he was sleeping on his tummy and my sitting atop him firmly anchored him in the position. Eventually he gave up with a huff, keeping his eyes closed as if eventually I would think he had fallen back to sleep and then leave him alone.

“It’s Christmas morning,” I whispered, making him jump when I was uncomfortably close to his ear, Laykn squirmed away, “Let’s go see if Santa finally got us that puppy.”

“Get off me,” Laykn grunted. “You have a bony arse.”

“Thank you,” I popped back, leaning from one side to the other to really dig into him.

“You can either get off yourself or I’m going to throw you off,” He said, trying to sound threatening, “It’s not my fault if you concuss yourself on the wall.”

“What a grouch,” I singsonged, jumping off him and leaving his bedroom door open as I left the room.

“Shut the door!” He yelled, echoing all our arguments from when we were younger. I grinned, loving that I still had that effect on him despite the fact we weren’t kids anymore.

He was too easy.

++

Merry Christmas! Have a wonderful day. Pass on my love to your wonderful family x

Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, Harry. Don’t eat all the pudding x

I’m offended by the insinuation without your instruction I would.

Your sweet tooth is your blind spot :)

Lucky you’re sweet then x

++

Christmas blended that perfect feeling of being on holiday and being removed from normal life but also allowed me the comfort of reverting back to feeling like a kid. Everything about its familiarity breathed calm into me and I felt the stress and anxieties I was used to living with dull. I let myself be doted on and loved by my family, I got my fill of cuddles and life encouragement and good food.

Still, this wasn’t how I saw the afternoon playing out.

“Laykn!” My father’s voice boomed through the sterile room.

“Sorry Dad,” He mumbled earnestly from the seat next to the examination table I was propped up on, “I’m seventeen, my brain hasn’t finished developing,” He tried weakly.

“I don’t care about your bloody undeveloped brain!” Dad continued, “I care about your sister’s head!”

“Dad, I’m fine,” I tried, opening one eye but the light hurt so I clamped it shut again.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Our father’s tone became more pleasant when aimed my way, he turned back to Laykn, “That’s why I get to be mad at you.”

“She ducked into it,” Laykn offered like maybe Dad didn’t already know.

“You threw the blasted thing to begin with! You’re daft, boy.” Dad shook his head. But his anger wasn’t menacing or threatening; it was parental.

“I didn’t mean for it to hit her!” Laykn defended himself, I leant my head back, wishing the splitting headache cracking open my skull away, “I was throwing it at Martin and Nina got in the way!”

“Where’s Mum?” I asked softly, “I want drugs.”

We were at the local doctor’s office. This was the place I had come my whole life any time I was sick or unwell. Our family had a regular doctor, Dr. Richard Andrews, who had looked after all of us for as long as I could remember. We had been here close to an hour and I just wanted to go home.

“Nina,” Dr. Andrews came into the examination room from the small hallway. “How’s your head feeling?”

His coming back told me that thirty minutes has passed since he had finished stitching me up. I was instructed to stay put so they could keep an eye in case any allergy or sign of concussion appeared.

“She’s got a headache,” Laykn answered for me, looking worried. “And there’s a bit of blood coming out of the stitch.”

“Come on, son,” My father clamped a hand on Laykn’s shoulder and pointed to the door, his demeanour softening somewhat, “Let’s leave your sister for a bit, yeah? She’s okay. Come on.”

Laykn’s look of distress momentarily heightened but I smiled at him and he soon complied. He scurried out of the room with one final check back on me at the door, he raised his hand in a wave and then was gone.

“That’s one mighty guilty looking younger brother you’ve got there,” Dr. Andrews said when they had left the room, he was putting on a fresh pair of surgical gloves and then leaned in to gently investigate my left cheek and eyebrow, “I’d say you’ll be able to milk him of anything you want for a month at least, two if you play your cards right.”

I chuckled as his hand carefully pressed against the back of my head and he tilted my face up so he could investigate the cut above my left eyebrow where my four newly acquired stitches sat. The top of my cheek under it felt the size of the apple that Laykn had thrown, the skin felt tight, hot and throbbing.  

“He didn’t mean it,” I sighed, wincing when Dr. Andrews pressed his fingers around the wound. He looked away to grab some swabs off the table and dipped it in some yellow disinfectant, then brought it up and dabbing it on my head.

“Little brother’s rarely do,” he agreed, “You shouldn’t have a very big scar. At most a centimetre, but it won’t be very thick.”

“That’s fine,” I clamped my eyes shut when the swab got caught on one of the stitches in my head and tugged uncomfortably. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” Dr. Andrews said quickly, “These will fall out in a few weeks and the wound will get itchy, try not to scratch, that will help with the scarring. Your Mum’s gone to fill the prescription for the painkillers downstairs in the chemist.”

“Thanks,” I smiled at the familiar older man. My head would hurt for a few more days, he had told me earlier. But I was lucky that I didn’t have a concussion and it looked like I wasn’t going to get a black eye either.  

He sat back and took off his gloves, “Everything else going okay, Nina? How is London?”

“I’ve been really good,” I offered slowly, “This year has been really good.”

“Your dad says you’re the star of the London Philanthropic,” Dr Andrews smiled. “I’ll need to get down for a performance.”

I smiled, “Please do.”

“Did you have anything you wanted to talk to me about?”

I swallowed thickly. He noticed. Why do doctor’s always ask that question?

“How are you going in terms of your depression and anxiety?” Dr. Andrews was never one to delay getting to the crux of things. He had been the one who first diagnosed me, and I knew that he cared how I was doing.  

“I’m okay,” I started, “I mean … It’s life … Sometimes it’s fine and somethings it’s not.”

“Are you having regular bad spells?”

I thought about my answer for a second, “Not regular, no. Every couple of months maybe, if that.”

“That’s good,” He nodded, eyebrows raised, “Your medication is all feeling okay?’

I nodded.

“Okay,” He said, “Well, the painkillers shouldn’t interfere with them at all. But please call me if you have any concerns. Anytime, you know that.”

“I do,” I provided, “Thanks for patching me up.”

“Make that brother of yours pay, Nina,” Dr. Andrews grinned knowingly.

“Oh, I will,” I chirped back.

++

Your performance is on BBC4 right now. It’s beautiful background music to my slow death by Christmas roast leftovers.

I’m at the pub! You have to leave the house to escape it :)

The food coma or the music!?

🎺

++

“Are you a fuckboy pretending to be a nice guy … Or actually a nice guy?”

“Ah,” I watched as the guy who had been talking to Georgie all day at the pub opened and closed his mouth like a guppy. His eyes darted over at us as though we might be able to rescue him. No such help emerged.

Bel was typing furiously on her phone and Sam was talking to a guy we went to high school with.

“It’s a simple question, really,” Georgie continued, turning to me, “Right Nina? Are you a fuckboy?”

Her question had been aimed at me the second time, “Um, no … I’m not a fuckboy,” I replied obediently.

“See?" Georgie gestured to me with a wide arm, "It’s an easy enough question to answer.”

I was saved from the conversation by my phone buzzing in my pocket. My heart started racing at seeing Harry's name and the smile that came over my face was automatic. Whatever feeling of concern I had for leaving the fumbling guy with Georgie was only fleeting.

"Hiya," I chirped down the phone line. As I waited for Harry to speak, I slipped down off the stool I was perched on and started towards the small beer garden where it would be quieter.

"Hi!" Harry hurried, his voice low and hushed, "I don't have long, but I need your help, do you have a second?"

I was frowning as I pushed open the door to outside and found a spare table I could lean against.

"I do, what's going on?"

"Which composer wrote 'The Erl King?'" He said quietly, as though reciting the question from memory.

I was momentarily confused, not having expected to have heard from Harry and also not understanding the context of his question. I took a second to run through things in my mind, recalling the few text conversations we'd had over the last few days.

I grinned, "Are you cheating at some kind of game right now, Harry?"

I remembered him saying his family spent the days following Christmas bunkered down together playing board games and eating leftovers.

He drew out a pause, "Yes ... You know the answer though right?"

"That depends," I decided to play with him a little, "Did you mean the poem or the song?"

"The poem or the ..." Harry trailed off, then let out a little sigh, "What?"

I scoffed in mock horror, "I can't believe you're a cheater."

"I'm not!" He insisted, "But Gemma's boyfriend is practically a genius and they're kicking my arse right now! I'm in the bathroom so you've got to hurry and tell me the answer ... They'll think I'm having some horrific bowel movement if I take much longer!"

I was laughing at him now, it was clear he was lost in the competitiveness of whatever game they were playing, "You realise in the time it took you to call me you could have just Googled this from the bathroom?"

"Yes, but it was an excuse to speak to you. What a mistake that was," He said sarcastically.

I tutted at Harry disapprovingly but then put him out of his misery, "'The Erl King' is a German poem by some guy ... But Franz Schubert famously composed a musical accompaniment to it in 1815."

"Schubert!" Harry exclaimed happily, "Brilliant. Thank you."

"Mhhm, super interesting guy actually, Schubert," I was tracing the nail of my thumb around the corner of the table, "It's likely he died from complications to treatment for syphilis so ... Take from that what you will."

"Modern medicine is a marvel."

"He was also very short," I recalled further, "And he was buried next to his musical hero, Beethoven but they were friends so it's kind of sweet too ..."

"You're my favourite nerd," Harry said fondly.

"Composers are my special subject."

"You're much cuter than Google."

"You're much taller than Schubert," I countered quickly.

Harry laughed finally, and I heard him let out a long breath, "Okay, I've gotta go. You're an angel, thank you!"

"Anytime," I returned quietly, fawning over being called an angel,  "Happy to help. Be nice to your sister."

"As soon as the game is over," He hurried, "Okay, bye! Bye, bye!"

++

Just get the train to Wharton tomorrow. I'll pick you up there

You sure?

Absolutely. Wear something warm.

It's 4C outside, what else would I be wearing?!

Alriiiight be nice. Text me the train you get on x

++

I had been sleeping terribly.

I couldn’t put any pressure on the left side of my face and every time I rolled over in my sleep,  I woke myself up with the pain. I was wide awake and restless most of the night, running over what it was going to be like seeing Harry the following morning.

I was filled with some kind of smile ­inducing, yet sickening dread at the thought of spending time with his family. I was excited and nervous to see Harry as well; I had missed him over Christmas and it was both reassuring and terrifying to see how much my feelings for him had grown. I wanted to be around him more and it felt strange to have not seen him in nearly a week.

Eventually I gave up on trying to sleep and dragged myself downstairs to share a final breakfast with my parents.

“You look like a wreck,” My dad said as soon as he saw me.

"Thank you," I parroted back, slipping into the seat next to my mum at the kitchen table. I have her a kiss and nodded when dad held a mug up at me from the sink, confirming I wanted coffee.

"You look beautiful, as always," Mum said, not looking up from the newspaper she was buried in.

"My bruise has changed colour overnight," I announced, pointing to my head, "How long is Laykn grounded for again?"

My mum tutted beside me, "Nina, he's upset enough ... Go easy on him."

"Let me see," My dad said, delivery a tea in front of my mum and my coffee in front of where I sat.

I obediently tilted my head up so he could peer over and inspect the left-hand side of my face. He narrowed his eyes slightly to see better, "You're getting old," I said.

"It's healing nicely," He ignored my comment, "You need to have a pillow next to you while you sleep so you can't roll over onto it though."

"Or a man."

"Mum!" I cried, feeling myself burn up as I glared at the side of her face. She seemed to have caught the teasing me about Harry bug from everyone else. She had been my ally over Christmas, but it seemed that now she was joining them.

Her poker face was excellent, "The pillow would help avoiding the man is what I meant."

My dad chuckled, enjoying his wife's sense of humour and my embarrassment. He saved me by telling me about a performance he had in London in a month which would be the next time I would see him. It would mean having him four days in a row as they rehearsed and then performed. I couldn’t wait.

“Are you going to come and stay too, Mum?” “No,” She shook her head easily, “I thought I’d give you some dad time. You should invite Harry to go to the performance with you though.”

“I’ve just emailed you the info,” Dad added, “You could bring more than just Harry if you wanted, just text me how many seats you want.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking a triangle of toast from his plate, “Will you drive me to the station soon?”

The next hour was spent taking a slow breakfast with my parents, and Laykn when he joined us eventually. I noticed his eyes continuously lingering on my forehead, and I ended up having to give him an extra-long hug to assure him that I wasn’t actually mad at him anymore.

The best option for covering the painful gash on my head was to wear my hair down with a beanie, which suited the chilly weather outside perfectly. Although there was no hiding the bruise on top of my cheekbone, and I was dreading Harry or any of his family making a fuss. At least the story could be framed as being somewhat funny.

At the train station my parents both lingered as they always did when I was heading back to London. They hated me leaving, and I was sure that a new wave of worry came over them both every time I left the safety of home where they could both be daily reassured that I was doing well.

Eventually the train pulled in and Dad let out a long breath, “Take it easy with that head of yours for the next few days. Tell Harry we said hello.”

“I’ll try not to bust a stitch when I’m back on the horn!” I prattled playfully, taking a step back and giving my mum one last kiss before waving at them both as I walked to get on the train.

The train to Harry.

++

Fair warning: I have an injury. Please don’t laugh when you see it.

++

“What in God’s name happened!”

I watched Harry get out of his car when I came into view, waiting for me as I walked down the ramp from the train station and into the car park. He was dressed casually in jeans and a knitted jumper, missing a vital outer layer that he’d obviously not been wearing while driving in the warmth of the car. I could see his breath as I walked towards him, I couldn’t help the smile and buzzing happiness I felt at seeing him.

He looked so good and I felt everything in me flip and the attention he was giving me.

“It’s worse than it looks,” I said as I approached, feeling a little awkward for having him just watch me walk.

“It looks sore,” Harry commented when I was still a good metre or two away, his eyes sympathetic and kind, “How did it happen … When did it happen?”

“Christmas Day. Laykn threw an apple and my face was in the way.”

His eyebrows raised, “You didn’t tell me! Are you in pain?”

"It's fine, I promise," I said, dropping my bag on the road next to the wheel of his car and walking straight into his chest where his arms had opened for a hug. I was careful to keep my forehead away from touching him, his arms wrapped around me tightly and squeezed. I stayed pressed against him for longer than I might normally have, but it felt wonderful to be seeing him again

“Hi there,” He said, moving his chin down so he could press a kiss to my head, “That’s one gnarly bruise you’ve got there.”

“Yeah,” I puffed out, pulling back and letting my fingers linger on the material of his jumper at his chest for a moment before I looked up at him, “My face is proving to be quite the colour palette.”

“Let me see,” He said quietly, his hands coming up to hold my jaw for a second. He frowned and I saw him notice the cut at my eyebrow and that it wasn’t just the bruise, “Can I move your beanie back?”

“Hmm,” I confirmed, trying not to flinch away as he gently pulled the material back to my hairline.

I watched as he winced at what he saw, "Nina, you've properly got stitches."

"I was brave, it's okay," I said slowly, smiling up at him and loving when his eyes left my injury and returned to meet mine, "And Laykn's guilt has meant he's been a real cherub.”

Harry laughed, and bent down to pick my bag off the ground. He clicked the button for the back of his car and grabbed my hand to drag me along with him. I used my free hand to pull the beanie from my head.

“Wait a minute,” I reached for the bag just as Harry ducking under the automatically opening boot, “I need to get something out.”

As I rummaged through my things, I felt Harry’s palm rest heavily on the crown of my head, “Cute hat hair.”

I stopped what I was doing to turn around and scowl at him, “Hey.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, “You look beautiful, I promise,” His eyes strayed to my bruise, “Even injured with hat hair.”

I turned around, having found what I was looking for, my eyes narrowed at him, “Took you no time at all to go from sympathy to being mean, did it?”

I snapped the hair elastic I had found around my wrist and started tying a headband around my head, watching Harry watch my movements looking a little bewildered by how quickly my hands were working. Once the headband was tied, I pulled up all my hair and was about to secure it all in a ponytail when Harry took the chance to step forward, plant his hands low on my cheeks and kiss me.

My hands stayed caught in my hair for a few seconds and it wasn’t until Harry shuffled forward even further, his lips smiling as I struggled to work out what to do, that I finally let my hair go and wrapped my arms around his neck to welcome him deepening it.

It was brief but quietly intimate, my tummy bubbling with the way it still felt novel and new to be kissing him. When we pulled apart and his hands found their perfect place on my hips, holding me close.

“I’m really excited to have you at home with me,” He said thickly, “I wasn’t going to kiss you here,” Harry’s eyes darted around the carpark like he was remembering himself, “But … fuck … I’d forgotten how far we’ve come. You’re you around me now and it’s the best thing ever.”

I gave him a confused look but ended it by smiling, “I’m terrified of meeting your family, but I want to.”

Harry beamed at that, “Good. We’re not going home yet though … I’ve planned the morning; we’ll go home for lunch. Sound okay?”

I nodded and then gave him a wary glance, “Am I safe to put my hair up now or will I be interrupted again?”

“I can’t say if I’ll be overcome with affection again but …” Harry held up both his hands and stepped back from me, “I’ll try.”

"That's big of you, thank you," I snarked back, screwing up my nose at him when he reached for my shoulders and gently nudged me in the direction of the passenger side.

I investigated the map on the train down and knew that where I got off was still about twenty minutes' drive from Harry's hometown. Getting off where I had saved me going much further south to then change trains and go back up to Holmes Chapel. At first, I thought Harry's instruction to get off where I did was for my benefit, but when we turned off the main road it became evident he'd planned the day that way.

Once we were in the car things were quiet as Harry drove back through the streets, his phone had automatically connected to the Bluetooth of his car and a playlist played at a low volume. Still, there were moments where he couldn’t stop himself from humming along or singing just a phrase.

"I used to think about this," I said aloud, referring back to when I first met Harry.

"Think about what?" He asked, briefly looking my way with a questioning look on his face because he wasn't sure what I was talking about.

The song ended and I smiled at the new one that replaced it, "What music you sing along to when you're not getting paid to.”

I watched Harry's reaction to what I had said, his eyebrows raised slightly and then his features settled into a whimsical smile of sorts, "I'll sing basically anything. It's sort of obnoxious really. Everything I first sang as a kid was from my mum and sister ..." He ran his hand along his jaw as he spoke, "I had a slight rebellion in my teen years, I got quite into the brit pop thing and was sure I was the next Alex Turner or Caleb Followill."

I laughed, "Oh really?"

"Yep," He nodded, laughing at himself too.

"What an undersell," I mused, throwing a compliment his way, "You could out sing Alex Turner any day of the week."

Harry scoffed, "He's a proper rockstar. I don't think you can really put us in the same category."

"Sure I can," I replied easily, "Technically speaking your voice would have a much better range and tone, your control is great. You've got beautiful resonance in your upper register. Vocally I know you're different, but if we're measuring by how far your voices would get you on technicality ... You win."

“You’re very good for my ego,” He replied simply but I noticed there was a blush of pink at the top of his cheekbones.

“I like the Cranberries,” I said, acknowledging the song playing.

Harry took a deep breath and jumped in with the lyrics at the exact place I had said it. I grinned and sat back to let him go for it. His face flushed but he sang beautifully.

“So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? Were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you? But I'm in so deep!”

Harry had put all the power in his voice behind the last line and I sucked in a breath myself because he was really really good. He was looking a little too proud of himself for me to go straight to compliments though.

“Alright, alright,” I faked nonchalance, “The whole world knows you can sing.”

“But it’s you I want to impress,” He returned sweetly.

“Your voice is achingly lovely.”

“Alright Little Miss Voice Expert, when were you going to divulge your own singing, hmm?” He’d been switching his attention between watching the narrow country lane we were driving down and my face. It seemed he got the reaction he was expecting, and he laughed at whatever horrified expression was on my face. “Grade 6 ABRSM for Voice …” He quoted my bio from the London Phil’s Christmas program.

“What have you memorised that or something?” I tried dismissing.

“Yes, I have,” Harry confirmed without an inch of playfulness. “But I already had my suspicions.”

“You did?” “When you played piano that first time months ago in the studio and fixed my song … You were humming along, and it was pretty.”

“That was a weird moment,” I provided.

“I want to hear you properly sing.”

“I’m not a singer, Harry,” I started diplomatically, “I can carry a tune maybe—

Harry laughed, “—That’s exactly what someone who can sing would say.”

“I mean it!” I cried, “It’s like learning the piano, doing voice, in composition it’s just as helpful. I learnt voice so I could get into the composition stream at Cambridge, being able to sing parts in tune and at pitch is useful and a tool you use all the time. It wasn’t because I wanted to be a singer.”

Harry seemed to think about that for a moment, “I get that … But I bet you’re still good. Really, I just need you to sit me down and tell me very matter-of-factly everything stupidly impressive about you … Because finding out about them little by little is slowly killing me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I mean it! When are you going to stop blowing me away?”

“A girl has to have her tricks,” I tried playfully back. My tummy churning at the compliment.

The road before us opened out into a car park, and Harry slowed down to navigate where his car fit. I wanted to ask where we were, but I was also enjoying the fact that Harry was in control. I had no doubt that whatever we were about to see or do would be lovely. The English countryside around us was picturesque and as I popped open my door once we had come to a stop the cool, wet smell filled my body and made me grin.

“I love the smell of England,” I said through a deep breath, meeting Harry around the back of the car where he was pulling a coat through his arms.

“It is great, isn’t it,” He agreed as he slammed the car closed and held out a hand to me, “C’mon.”

We spent the next two hours hand in hand walking through a huge estate that was open for public access. The private laneways were so narrow in some places I walked behind him, and then they would open out to huge expanses of fields and garden. It was amazing, and every time we crossed paths with somebody Harry chirped out a hello like the custom was his favourite thing ever.

The whole time we chatted through and around dozens of topics, from family Christmas traditions, childhood birthday parties, first kisses and our favourite cities abroad. Harry opened up about his job, detailing the way it had changed and evolved over the last decade. There were moments I felt sad for him, but he was an expert at countering something he admitted he found difficult with all the ways his life had turned into a dream come true in other ways.

Something that he had briefly touched on though I found was a bitter pill to swallow. Harry hurried through the idea, which only made me hold onto it more. I wasn’t used to him being uncomfortable talking to me, but it seemed the idea of 'before' and 'after' people in relation to his life before and after fame was something he struggled with. He spoke of it for barely a minute or two, but I got the idea that Harry had had to become guarded around the 'after' people and terrified the 'before' people wouldn't be loyal. I just couldn’t fathom it, how he could possibly be able to go out and build new friendships and meet people with that kind of fear in his head. I was sure if I was Harry, I would have shut myself away from people completely.

He seamlessly linked it with dating though which had me fighting the overwhelming urge to avoid the conversation. I hated the thought of my being someone Harry had or could potentially doubt the intentions of.

“My family are going to love you, don’t worry,” He calmed the biggest fear whirling around my head without me having to voice it, “I promise you. But I was a real idiot when I was younger. I didn’t trust anyone, so I decided it was easier to just let things be surface level where it didn’t matter if it went to shit. When it went to shit,” He corrected sourly.

“Harry,” I squeezed his hand, we stopped walking and were standing at a farm gate looking down across a paddock of lush, greenery.

“I haven’t brought anyone home in … years and years,” He shared slowly, turning to watch my reaction, “I dated in the US mainly, away from my family. It made it easier to keep things casual. A few times I thought I might have found something with potential but generally I was trying too hard because I was lonely or craved the intimacy.”

“What changed?” I asked carefully, trying to gauge how much more he was going to share.

“Lots of small things … I think I grew up mainly,” Harry starts, “I also came to realise that what I actually wanted was a partner and fucking around was never going to be the way to get that. And then I met you.”

He added the last five works with an apprehensive smile towards me.

“Me?”

He nodded, “I met you at exactly the point where I’d decided not to run back to LA when I was craving attention and affection. And I was trying to man up about it and own the fact that I needed to behave differently to get a different outcome … Then along comes Miss Nina Lawrence.”

“You made me sound like a disease or hurricane.”

Harry smiled at my comment but didn’t divert from the topic of conversation, “After that dinner with everyone where I lied about how we met … I went to LA for work and it was so much more obvious to me that it wasn’t the place for me. I was so angry though because you’d challenged how I run my life and forced me to defend the fact that maybe my attitude had changed but really how I dealt with people hadn’t. I liked you so much, but it was tough being called out like that. You hit my pride hard and you’re the first person in a long time I’ve had to work for the trust and affection of. I needed challenging though, and I’m so thankful for that now.”

The whole concept made my skin crawl, I wasn’t comfortable at all with being the catalyst to all that.

“I saw my ex while I was there,” He kept going and the sick feeling inside me only grew but it came from a different place this time, I wasn’t used to it but I knew immediately it was jealousy. Harry hadn’t looked back at me though, so I kept watching the side of his face as he spoke, hating that I might have driven him back to her, “It was sad, really. I saw her and was reminded that I used to be such a romantic. I love the idea of big gestures and spoiling someone, but she never saw that side of me.” “I think you’ve still got it,” I said quietly.

“She was angry at me,” Harry frowned as he looked off over the field, “I can understand why, I had ended it by saying if I was based in LA maybe we’d have had a shot which was never true … ” “She thought you were back for her.”

He looked at me then, his features red from the chill but still utterly captivating, “I think she assumed I was back, and we’d start things again, yeah. By that point I’d done so much internal thinking and already decided that kind of relationship wasn’t going to be me anymore, but I didn’t know how to articulate it without offending her. So, I let her just be angry with me. It’ll mean I won’t see a lot of that group of friends again, but that’s probably a good thing.”

It was tough to hear what had been going on in Harry’s life since we had met that I wasn’t aware of. He had always struck me as grown up and mature, so it was a surprise to hear how much growth he had gone through in the time we had known each other. It showed a strength of character that I adored though, that Harry had humility and awareness enough to realise where he could better himself.

I latched my arm around his waist and ducked under his arm, “I think you’re wonderful.”

“I think you’re wonderful too,” He said, still obviously caught up in his own thoughts. “I feel calm and happy with you … Well, until you’re making out with me against my car, that wasn't very calm.”

I barked out a laugh I hadn’t realised was coming and pushed Harry away from me playfully, “Don’t be crude.”

“It’s not crude, it’s hot,” He argued, snatching my arms and tugging me firmly against his chest. His hands dropped to tuck neatly at my hips and hold me in place. “Neens,” Harry said under his breath, “Where the hell did you come from?”

Harry leant forward slightly, also pulling me closer with his palms and he kissed me calm and unhurried, like we had all the time in the world. Our mouths moved together, and it left a warm feeling in my chest because I’d never felt so adored and valued as I did with Harry this close to me. His thumbs pushed under my shirt and rubbed the skin of my hips in slow, heart-warming movements that had me tingling all over. Harry’s lips pulled into a soft smile against mine as soon as we parted, but he kept himself close enough to kiss my forehead slowly before completely pulling away.

“How is your face feeling?”

I was a little dazed from the kiss and didn’t immediately know what he was talking about, “Huh?”

He grinned happily and then looked at my bruise as he rose his eyebrows, “Your black eye.”

“I don’t have a black eye!”

++

The house Harry’s mum lived in was a few minutes' drive from the small township.

Harry explained that the house he had grown up in was in the township, but his mum had moved a little further out for more space and privacy. I didn’t ask Harry to elaborate but I got the sense there was a story there.

At the first sign that read ‘Welcome to the Village of Holmes Chapel’ I had leant forward and turned the music down. As we turned into a long driveway, Harry slowed the car to walking pace and put down the windows to let the fresh, cool air hit us both.

The large expanse of garden leading up to the house was beautiful and largely unkempt, giving the property a quintessential English feel. Two rows of large trees lined the driveway and I found myself trying not to think about the situation we were driving into.

"Hey," Harry's hand found my shoulder, I was facing the window and trying to be consumed by nature instead of watching the lovely house we were approaching, "You look like you're about to climb out the window."

I turned back around and let out a long breath, "This is terrifying ... Did you feel like this meeting my family? You seemed so cool."

"I was moderately afraid," He admitted easily, slowly coming to a stop in front of a garage door and turning off the ignition but not moving anywhere, "I knew you were a lovely human though, and it was likely you came from a family of lovely people."  

"Your circumstances means it's entirely reasonable for your family to be suspicious of me," I voiced my concern, hating the ugly ball it was in my gut but knowing it was better to tell him.

"Maybe," Harry agreed, not making me feel any better, "But I promise nobody is suspicious of you. My mum is overjoyed I'm finally showing signs of being serious about someone. She's not going to interrogate you, Nina. She just wants to get to know you. Talk about uni, and your family ... Music if you want to. Tell her what a pain I am, you’ll have a lot in common there."

I looked over at him and his hand came over the console to take mine, "You're not a pain." "I'm pleased to hear that."

"I do look like I've been in a street fight though," I pointed to my head. "Not the best first impression."

Harry pushed himself up over the console to hover his head right in front of my face, "You look beautiful. You always look beautiful ... And your head will be a good ice breaker."

"My head looks like it's already broken the ice," I deadpanned.

"C'mon," Harry rolled his eyes at me and cracked open his door, nodding to mine for me to do the same, "In five minutes time you'll have met everyone and be feeling a thousand times better."

I followed Harry's instruction and slid out of the front seat, my sneakers landing on the pebbled drive and I found myself finally taking in the house. It was a beautiful red brick double story home with lots of windows with white finishings. The gardens were simple and just as I was about to head towards the front door Harry called my name.

"This way," He held out a palm to me, my overnight bag in his other hand. "That ice breaker comment was very funny, by the way," Harry said slowly, pressing a kiss to my cheek just before we started walking.

"Thank you," I swallowed, well into panicking about the upcoming introductions.

Harry led me around the side of the house close to the garage which opened up onto a lovely courtyard area with a table and wicker lounges. There were newspapers and some tea settings on the table telling me it was obviously an outdoor space that was used frequently, even in this bitter weather, the sun had the family outside.  

"It's not the house I grew up in, but it's home," Harry said, watching me take it all in as he led me to a glass door that connected to a long wall of windows that went down the length of the back of the house. The view from all the downstairs room would have been the long garden going back onto the fields in the distance. It felt like a little haven.

“Mum?” Harry said loudly as he dropped my hand to could open the door, guiding me in and pointing at a wire basket behind the door toppled full of shoes. "Make yourself comfortable," He instructed me, slipping off his boots and tossing them into the basket as I did the same a little slower. I was wearing stripy, purple socks and I glued my eyes to them, feeling completely stupid of wearing them today.

“Kitchen,” A lovely, melodic voice rang out.

We were in a small laundry room and Harry reached out to gently pinch my elbow, and gave me a wonderful smile when I met his gaze, "You good?"

I just nodded and followed behind him as he walked out of the room down a short hallway that opened out onto a large kitchen with all the charm of a country house.

"Hey, Mum," Harry said, nearly getting knocked over when another body quickly emerged from another doorway and collided with him clumsily, "Shit."

"Language!" Two voices mimicked at once, and I had no idea where to look because it was all happening at once.

The guy who had walked into Harry wasn't quite as tall as Harry, he looked to be a few years older though and I assumed he was Gemma's boyfriend, Ned. He had a tea towel draped over his shoulder and was dressed comfortably in sweats. I could see Harry's sister sitting at a long breakfast counter, taking up the stool closest to the wall where she was working on a laptop plugged into the wall. Harry's mother was beaming from the middle of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel and straightening out her shirt as she came towards Harry and I.

I squeezed my fingers together and pressed them at my sides, not sure who to watch.

“Hello, you two! I was elbow deep in potato peels, sorry for the cold hands," She said, her smile focused on me, "Nina, it's wonderful to have you in our home! Welcome, lunch isn't far off."

"Thank you for having me," I said politely as she approached, "It's beautiful here."

I was surprised by how she immediately radiated warm and stepped right up to give me a friendly hug. When she stepped away from me she looked to Harry and I knew exactly where he got his bright smile from.

"Mum, this is Nina," Harry told her, grinning back at his Mum in what I hoped was boyish charm. "Nina, this is my Mum, Anne ... And this is Ned and you've met Gem before," he waved his hand at Ned who was leaning against the counter patiently, and then Harry pointed to his sister.

"Hello," I said to them both.

Ned stepped forward and extended a friendly hand to me after wiping it on the tea towel over his shoulder. “Lovely to meet you, Nina."

“You too,” I took a deep breath after shaking his hand, still feeling as though all eyes were on me.

"Come and sit," Gemma said to me from her spot, she shut the laptop and moved a few seats to the middle of the counter. "Harry, make Nina a tea, will you?"

I instantly felt more comfortable as I felt all the attention in the room suddenly shift off me and onto other things. Harry whined at his sister and insisted he was just about to offer me a drink, Ned made his way over to the sink where he took over from whatever Anne had been doing and Anne told Harry she'd love a brew if he was offering which had him again defending the fact he was just about to offer to make for everyone. Anne disappeared into a walk-in pantry and emerged with a loaf of bread and I moved around to where Gemma was sitting.

I smiled at her, feeling as though our first introduction at Harry's house months ago really hadn't been sufficient but I was thankful for her not making a fuss out of me.

"Train okay?" She asked, putting her phone face down in front of her and giving me her full attention.

"Yeah," I kept up the smile, "Staring out the window ends up being quite soothing."

Gemma nodded, "My arse always goes numb though. That's quite a bruise you've got there," Her eyes went to my cheek and to the stitches above my eyebrow.

"Oh," I blushed, having forgotten about it despite having just voiced to Harry in the car how ridiculous I must have looked. "Yeah, my brother threw an apple and my face got in the way."

Gemma winced, "Brothers suck sometimes."

"Hey!" Harry called from the kettle, halting whatever he had been talking to Ned about, "Don't sully my name, please."

"I'm sure you've got the pain under control, love," Anne interrupted the siblings before they could start squabbling, she was arranging the slices of bread in a basket, "But let me know if I can get you anything to help."

"I will, thank you."

"We've got a roast for lunch, Nina, and croissant bread and butter pudding," Ned said from the sink, seeming very comfortable in Anne's kitchen. “I hope you're hungry.”

“We’ve bagsied the leftovers,” Gemma declared just as Harry was opening his mouth.

“Damn it,” He muttered, placing a tea in front of me and coming around to sit on my other side, “Maybe we could make—”

“I’m going to do some gingerbread this afternoon for you and Nina to take,” Anne soothed.

“Brilliant,” Harry nodded seriously, frowning at something on Gemma’s phone that she had just passed his way.

When he sat Harry perched right on the edge of the bar stool, hooking his left foot on the step of it and balancing the other on the ground as only his height would allow. He swivelled though, his legs wide enough that when he lent his elbow on the counter near my body it felt like he was surrounding me. His fingers tapped on my arm lightly as he read to himself.

I took a sip of my tea and watched Ned and Anne wordlessly work together in the kitchen. It was surprisingly comforting to see, he had obviously managed to assimilate into the Styles trio. They were putting everything together and getting ready to serve lunch. I wanted to offer to help but Harry had me trapped and I didn’t know how to insert myself into the situation.

“I say it’s bullshit,” He said easily, handing the phone back to his sister.

"Language," Anne said lowly, completely ignored by her children. I was endeared by the fact she told them off for swearing at home.

“Send a text!” Gemma declared, “Find out!”

“Gem, I don’t know anyone there,” Harry groaned, shaking his hair out and then rearranging it roughly with his fingers.

“I bet you could find someone,” She fought back.

“Love, let the Love Island thing go,” Ned called gently, meeting my eye and rolling his eyes, “They’ve been going back and forth all week, Gemma’s addicted to the stupid show and not happy with next season’s casting decisions.”

I appreciated that Ned had twice now made an effort to include me when it was clear to him I wasn’t yet.

“Why would they bring back someone from season one? It’s ludicrous!”

“Because they get this reaction out of people,” Harry replied, settling his palm on my hip and taking a long drag of his tea. I hoped nobody could see where he was touching me, “What are we going to do for dinner, Mum?” He changed the subject.

“We haven’t even had lunch yet,” Anne tutted.

“I’ll get in trouble if I ask how long until lunch though,” He returned cheekily, all the evidence of him having regularly been scolded for that particular enquiry in the past.

“Nina, how was your Christmas, sweetheart?” Anne asked me, ignoring her son, “Does your family do something big?”

I picked ran my fingers up and down the side of my mug, knowing this was the point where Harry’s family all got to know me and worrying I wouldn’t live up to whatever they had told them, “A little … My family does a lot together generally. Well, my mum’s family anyway. She’s a twin so … So I’m pretty close with my cousins. We had family lunch and dinner, normal for us really. But lovely because everyone’s on their best behaviour. Except my brother obviously,” I added.

“We did that when these two were smaller,” Anne provided, “Now the cousins have children but on Christmas day it’s still this one all the adults are telling not to eat too much,” She nodded her head towards Harry who beamed at his alleged crime.

“And he’s still the one you’ve got to watch like a hawk during games,” Gemma added, “He always finds a way to cheat.”

Harry pinched my side at that, smirking and holding his eyebrows up but not looking directly down at me, trying to look inconspicuous. No doubt he was sending me secret brain messages not to give away the fact he’d called me for the answer to a question.

“Somehow,” I said to his sister, “I’d believe that.”

++

“How can I help?” I asked Anne later, standing in the middle of her kitchen as she collected items from the pantry and gathered them all on the bench.

Gemma and Ned had left a short while ago to return to London for work, so it was just Harry and I with his mum. He had disappeared after helping clear up after lunch, he kissed my head as he left the kitchen citing the need for a shower and a nap.

“Go relax with Harry, love,” Anne insisted. “He’ll sleep through until Easter if you don’t get him up to do something with you now.”

“He needs to rest,” I replied softly, “Are you making gingerbread?”

“Yes,” I could hear the smile in his mother’s voice, “I wouldn’t normally make it, but it’s Harry and Gemma’s favourite at Christmas time and I’m a sucker when they’re both about to leave me for the big city again.”

“My mum gets a little teary every time I leave.”

“Trust me, it only gets harder as your children grow up,” Anne started handing things to me, and I relaxed into the knowledge she was going to let me help, “You think once they’re adults you won’t miss them so much but really it’s worse because they’ve turned into wonderful adults you want to spend time with!”

She was pointing out where a few bits were in the kitchen were and passed over a recipe book cracked open on the 'Christmas Cookies' page.

“Harry told me you’re the only girl in your family,” she said, cutting up butter and keeping an eye on what I was doing measuring out flour.

“That’s right,” I confirmed, “I learnt early if you can’t win crying usually gets you at least most of the attention when things go pear shaped.”

Anne’s laughter floated around the kitchen, “I think the opposite was true for Harry. He’s relented to the tears of two women for most of his life.”

“I think he’s better for it,” I said pleasantly, I smiled at her, “How long have you lived in this house?”

“Coming up on six years,” Anne answered.

“It’s beautiful,” I mumbled, struggling with the ginger jar, “I can see why Harry loves it so much.”

"If I ever tried to leave I'm sure Harry would refuse to let sell it,” She started creaming the butter and sugar together looking like an expert, “He loved this house from the minute he found it for me.”

“He found it for you? Sorry,” I added quickly, suddenly remembering my manners, “I don’t ... It sounds like I’m fishing. I’m not ... Sorry,” I took in a deep breath, “How would you like this sliced?”

My confidence with Harry’s mother completely disintegrate into thin air, as I cursed myself more for what I had asked, how it might have been misconstrued. Lunch with Gemma and Ned had ended up being completely lovely, and by the end of it I felt my insides relax and I was genuinely enjoying the company. Harry came alive in front of his family in a way I hadn’t seen before and I loved it. But it was still a similar Harry that I found myself getting when we were alone, and I found it only made me trust him more.

“Crushed please,” Anne instructed, nodding at the fresh ginger in front of me, “And yes, Harry found this house for me. And bought it for me ... He’s a very generous young man. He works very hard as well, I’m proud of him.”

“You should be!” I said quickly.

"Recently he's been spending more time in London, which is nice. I'd hazard you've been a factor in that," She added carefully as an afterthought.

My head snapped up to her, not seeing any of the displeasure or iciness I had expected, in fact, she was looking at me with a soft, kind look on her face as though she knew exactly what I was thinking to myself. As thought she could see exactly where I thought I had stumbled and she was trying to reassure me.

I cleared my throat and tried to push down the embarrassment at having overstepped, "Harry's told me a little about how he's not ... Dated at home for a while."

"At times over the last few years the negative aspects of Harry's job and the fame have been more pronounced and he’s maybe struggled to ..." Anne thought better of whatever she was going to say, "His coping mechanism has been to get on a plane and leave. I don't think he like us to see when he's struggling ... He goes away to blow off a bit of steam. A mother alway knows though," She gave me a knowing smile.

"He always strikes me as someone very thoughtful and put together," I furrowed my brows, thinking back over the time I had known Harry and now marrying together what he had told me himself and what his mother was adding from her point of view.

It all seemed to come together and make sense. When he was overwhelmed Harry used his resources to do a very millennial thing; he'd run away to a different country for a change of pace.

"My son is both of those things, Nina," Anne pulled me from my thoughts, she was watching me with a thoughtful expression of her own, "And he's very fond of you, I'm so happy you're here. When he first mentioned you months ago Harry said you were kind-hearted and smart, and he was completely blow away by you. Mind you, I gave him a bit of an earful because by that point he'd only just asked for your phone number and despite all he'd said about you and how he'd said it my son still hadn't asked you on a date,” She rolled her eyes fondly, “I’d like to think I gave him a little push in the right direction."

His mother thought I was the right direction. I felt my shoulders relax somewhat.

“I really like him,” I said lamely, not knowing how to further express it.

“I’m just glad to be spending time with the reason for Harry being happy in London again. You make him happy and from an outsider's point of view—an outsider who knows what genuine happiness looks like on Harry—he truly is with you. And I’m not sure he would admit this,” She continued, “But I think he forgot about the joy his job used to bring him. It can all became a burden, and rightfully so in most cases. But you’ve reminded him that real life can be an adventure worth the pain as well. Just not the same pain as his career. So, don’t you worry about asking me questions about my son, I’ll tell you whatever you’d like to know.”

I smiled, seeing Harry got his raw honesty and fearlessness when it came to speaking his mind from his mother, “Does he ever stop trying to make the people around him happy?”

“No,” She laughed, “And I’m sorry for any and all of the horrible jokes he’s tried on you. Thank you for not holding them against him.”

“They’re charming,” I said sweetly, “His silliness is captivating. Especially when … That’s something I need.”

It was overwhelming to think after half a day I could be having a conversation like this with his mother, but the thought then occurred to me that knowing Harry’s kindness and tact with people I really shouldn’t have been surprised at all.

We worked in pleasant conversation for another little while, Anne telling me about the young boy Harry used to be, telling me more about what it was like for her as a mother when his career first started taking off. Parts of it made me understand how my own parents must have felt at different points of my life, being so incredibly proud and excited for your child but also worrying the wrong people would be coming into their life and offer alternate guidance to what you had raised them on. She seemed to understand Harry’s story might have parallels to my own, and when I looked a little taken aback by her having such background on me she simple said Harry had brought home the program from my performance to show her.

“I should have done more to prevent him from getting his hands on that,” I cried.

“He’s proud,” She excused, “I like seeing him like this. It’s nice seeing him fawn over someone else for a change.”

Her comment was pointed, but not at me. I wondered who Anne might have seen come and go in her son’s life in the last ten years, and all the times she might have questioned how genuine some of the relationships were.

“When you’re next in London you’ll have to come to a performance,” I said without thinking, “And Gemma and Ned.”

Anne beamed at that, “Oh sweetheart, I’d love to.”

"It's not everyone's cup of tea," I offered diplomatically, knowing classical music wasn't something a lot of the population was interested in.

"Oh, no," Anne shook her head, "Gemma will love it and I'll go to anything with live music, it's all wonderful. Harry raved about it all Christmas."

Just as she spoke his name Harry appeared from the doorway that opened to the staircase to the upper floor. He had changed into a pair of tracksuit pants but kept his knitted jumper, his hair stood out in all directions and his face was puffy from sleep.

"Well, good morning," Anne sang is way as Harry approached her and hung his arm over her shoulder.

"These look good," He eyed the counter that was covered in cooling cookies, he seemed to consider his options before reaching for one and getting it to his mouth as quickly as he could. Probably before he could be told off for helping himself. "Oh yum," He mumbled through chewing, "Neens, come taste," Harry held the cookie out in front of him and stepped away from Anne who was watching him with a happy look on her face.

"I've already—

"—No," He shook his head at me and reached out for my arm as soon as he was close enough, "This specific one, I'm telling you. This one is the best."

Before I could argue he'd pressed the biscuit right up to my mouth and was looking down at me in delight as I struggled through avoiding taking a bite. Eventually I relented, the delicious gingerbread melting over my tongue.

"It's good," I said, becoming more comfortable with Harry being affectionate in front of Anne. "Too bad you didn't help make them so have no claim in taking them home."

"Ha," He laughed, “That’s not the rules at all.”

‘It’s an amendment I’m willing to consider,” Anne hummed conspiratorially.

“I’m ending this evil alliance right now,” Harry took my hand and started tugging me across the room, “I’ve got something to show Nina …. Away from you, Mum!”

I was laughing as Harry kept pulling me with him, out of the kitchen and then up the stairs. His mother’s laugh carried with us most of the way. I started taking in the upstairs rooms he was leading me passed. The bedrooms were all upstairs, except the master which made up the second half of the bottom floor with the kitchen and living areas.

Harry reached a door at the end of the hallway and turned around to face me, pushing it open with his backside, “I’ve got something for you.”

He was looking unsure and bashful, my focus was split between trying to figure out what he was nervous about and investigating the room that was opening up behind him.

Harry’s room at his mother’s house wasn’t like his bedroom in London. The London room was sparsely decorated and felt grown up and clean. This room had smatterings of his childhood and it was obvious the awards absent from his own home were all displayed here. My eyes ran along the shelf on the wall, trophies lining the length of the wall with photo frames and smaller plaques sitting up also. I could see BRITs and MTV awards and then a whole bunch of others I didn’t recognise.

“Holy shit, Harry …”

“Over here,” He called, when I turned he was sitting on the end of the haphazardly made bed. He’d clearly had quite the nap. “Merry Christmas.”

He was holding out a small red box and an envelope. My heart started beating in my ears at the thought of Harry buying something for me.

“Wait,” I looked around the room, “Where’s my bag? I’ve got something for you as well.”

Harry nodded to an armchair by the window, my bag sitting untouched atop a decorative pillow, when I pulled out the wrapped gift he frowned at it in my hards, “That doesn’t look like an M&S voucher.”

I stood between his legs, as close as I could without making it impractical, “Merry Christmas,” I said, putting the present on his thigh as I carefully took the small parcel he was still holding out for me.  I waited for Harry to move, not feeling comfortable opening his gift if he wasn’t going to do the same. “Open it,” I urged,  watching as he picked it up and put it next to himself on the bed.

“I want to watch you open yours first,” He said quietly, his eyes flicking down to my hands for a moment before he smiled at me. “I’ll open mine in a minute, you go first.”

“Alright,” I started quietly, finally looking down at what he had given me properly. My eyebrows drew together immediately at the cursive across the small red jewellery box I was holding, “Cartier … Harry!”

“Please, open it, Nina.”

I watched him silently for a moment, my thoughts flying with the realisation that Harry was about to gift me some very expensive jewellery. His face was impossible to read, and the only thing I could gather was that he wasn’t going to back down, so I carefully cracked the case open and bit my lip at the gorgeous necklace cradled within.

There was a fine white gold chain set with a small, but perfectly cut diamond set delicately on a small loop. It was simple, and understated, and I adored it immediately. It was definitely something I would wear, but I swallowed thickly thinking about what the cost for something so beautiful would be.

“Harry—

“—Please, Nina,” He anticipated my protesting, “Accept it, I loved getting it for you.”

“It’s … It’s beautiful, I … I don’t know what to say. Nobody’s every given me something like this before, ” I said quietly, watching it as if it was about to disappear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry let out a long breath, his fingers interrupting my view to carefully take the box from me, “Let’s put it on you, mmm?”

“No,” I stopped his hands with my own, “I want to look at it a bit more …”

His laugh momentarily made the tips of my hair dance, then his lips came forward to press against my forehead, “Open the envelope as well please.”

I let him take the box from me and I turned my focus to the envelope I had tucked between my knees. Out came a small square card, a reindeer with a fluffy nose was on the front and it very simply said ‘Seasons Greetings’. I opened it and a hand drawn picture sat loosely enclosed.

‘Inaugural New York City Trip - This voucher entitles Nina Lawrence to a trip to New York with Harry. This voucher is valid for six months from the issuing date and cannot be exchanged for cash.’

“What on earth …”

“I want to make you cry of happiness on another continent,” Harry cleared his throat like he was unsure of his next words, “Come with me to New York and we can go crazy on Broadway shows and carbs.”

I looked up at him and the expression on Harry’s face was so sincere with an underlying happiness that I felt tears come to my eyes immediately, “Are you insane? I got you a fucking coffee table book and a literal M&S voucher!”

He must have seen what I was about to do because before I could reach down to snatch back my gift to him, Harry’s hand had shot out to keep it where it was, “No,” He said, “This is mine now.” “It’s bloody not!” “Nina,” Harry said calmly, threading his arm around my waste and holding me against his chest, “Look at me.”

I took a breath and did as he said, a few tears leaking as I struggled to come to terms with what was happening, “You’re insane,” I told him quietly.

“You keep saying that,” He smiled up at me, my chin right at his eye line from him sitting in front of me, “Let me dote, please?”

I moved my hands up to his hairline and pushed his head back slowly, I could see trying to explain everything to me was hard for him. My fingers stilled and I took in his features without the distraction of his hair, my stomach tightened with attraction.

“Your mum told me you were generous,” I mused, “New York sounds amazing. I haven’t been since I was a kid.”

Harry’s smile lit up his face straight away, “I can’t wait to show it to you.”

I eased myself forward to kiss him then, feeling Harry lock his arms in around my back to hold me close. Being momentarily taller than him meant I could lead although I didn’t have it in me to tease him. I opened my mouth to him almost straight away, feeling his tongue deliciously run along my bottom lip before he drew open further. Our noses bumped once, then twice and on the third time Harry’s laugh broke the kiss.

“Hey,” I whined.

“You’re bad at leading,” He breathed out a laugh, taking my face between his hands and pressing a chase kiss to my lips.

“No, I’m not! It’s a weird angle! Your nose is too big.” Harry laughed louder, slipping his linked arms down over my arse to loop just at the top go my thighs, “No need to be rude about my nose. You’re just not used to being on top.” “Excuse me.” I cried, “I don’t think you can say you’re privy to that kind of information on me.”

He cackled even more and his joy radiated through me, “I can’t wait to be enlightened.”

[shady-knight]

Admiring your Strength

Diabetic!Reader/The Seeds (can be read as platonic)

Warning: Some swear words, some mentions of events in the game (so spoiler)

A fill for a request: (...) I've been looking for someone to write about a diabetic reader with the seed family and how they would react if their blood sugar got low or even just reacting to the fact that the deputy is diabetic and still able to raise hell in hope county (...)

Being diabetic had never been a problem until arriving in Hope County. Here, insulin was hard to come by. The shots that you needed - unless you wanted to keel over - weren't exactly available in abundance in a place that didn't even have a proper telephone connection. At first you'd tried to scavenge for it, not wanting to admit your weakness in front of the Resistance but that plan failed when you fainted in front of Sharky, only just able to tell him that you needed insulin. After that, you never really had a problem with getting shots. Your friends looked out for you, reminding your to get your injections and always keeping something on themselves in case you forgot.

That way things worked and it wasn't an issue in raising Hell for the Project at Eden's Gate.

That was until Faith really Blissed you for the first time. Turns out that Bliss and diabetes don't mix well. Instead of leaping from the statue of the Father as Faith probably intented you collapsed upon it, vaguely aware of a lithe shape hurrying toward you as you fell. You felt Faith's slender fingers on your shoulders, in your pulse and heard her voice, once airy and unconcerned, ladden with worry as she tried to roll you over. "Oh no, Deputy, that's not supposed to happen, the Bliss shouldn't have been so strong - you can't become an Angel, you can't - he'll punish me."

"M'not becoming an Angel.", you muttered, dots dancing across your vision. You tried to raise your hand and get the syringe that you carried with you in cases of emergencies but the Bliss made you feel heavy and numb and your hand barely even lifted from the ground. "Can", you started, slurring the words, "you please give me the shot that's in my pocket?", you managed to get out. You didn't really feel Faith searching, her dainty hands so light on your frame that your fragile consciousness barely registered her touch. You did, however, feel the familiar prick on your skin as Faith punctured it, releasing insulin into your body.

You did not know how long you stayed there, on top of Joseph's statue, but Faith was still there when your senses cleared up and you regained proper control over your limbs. She stroked your hair absentmindedly, humming some surprisingly soothing Peggy tune. When you shifted, her hand slid away slowly, she didn't want to hide what she had been doing while you were pretty much out of it. "You are diabetic.", she stated softly, tilting your head at you, "Since when?"

"Oh", you answered, "For long now." Her eyes searched your face and you could see the doubt in them. "You did all this - wrought destruction upon The Father's work, all while being sick?", Faith whispered, her golden hair swaying in the breeze. You narrowed your eyes. "I'm capable of even more. That I need shots from time to time doesn't change anything.", you were tired of people underestimating you. Faith put her hands on your cheeks, capitalzing on your still groggy state to apeease you with the intimate gesture. "You misunderstand me. I was not mocking you, Deputy. I was amazed. You and your conviction are stronger than we ever realised."

You shook her off then, uncomfortable with her nearness. You didn't know why you allowed it in the first place. "Not gonna give me a speech about how my illness is God's punishment for acting against you? I'd have thought that that would be right up your alley.", you spit out, forcing yourself to remind yourself just who you were talking to. In whose lap you were lying just moments ago. Faith's eyes, light and full of life, fixed on you, shooting you a grave look.

"Oh Deputy, you are so ready to think the worst of us. You are too willing to believe the lies. Let me tell you the truth so that you may See.", she told you, smiling reassuringly - and you could see why she was called the Siren.

"No, I'm leaving.", you said, convincing yourself and struggling to get up, "I'm guessing that you'll tell your brothers about all of this?" The Herald just smiled at you. "Deputy, have Faith in me. Trust me. I'll keep your secret if you want me to. If it'll show you that we are not the fiends that we are in your mind." Yeah, right. You thought, looking around you, fruitlessly searching for a way down. How the fuck did you even get up here?

Surprisingly, Faith was truthful. Not one Seed mentioned anything about your status. Which turned out to be unfortunate for you when you made some progress in the Whitetails and were captured by Jacob's hunters for the first time.

You swam in and out of consciousness, only aware of being transported somewhere unknown. The hunters searched your pockets before strapping you to a chair and you squirmed as much as you could when they took your emergency shot, holding it up in the air.

Harsh footsteps echoed through the room and the hunter with your injection turned, lowering his head in deference to the man in front of him. It was Jacob. A mountain of a man with red hair and countless scars. He took your insulin and held it in front of your face. "Ya need that, pup?", he asked, trying to goad you. "Aren't you a weak little thing? You can't rely on some shots to keep you alive after the Collapse.", he leaned into you, breath hot against your ear, slipping the syringe into a pocket of his military jacket while he did so. "You know what happens to the weak, don't you? They get Culled.", he retreated, patting your hair roughly, as you would do to a dog. "But ya know what? I'm feeling generous. Joseph sees something in you. And I'll find out if it's actually there. So I'll humour you, pup. If you pass my trial, you can have that", he gestured toward the pocket containing your shot, "back." You stared at him hatefully, barely containing the urge to snape your teeth at him in the hope of catching his hand. If he treated you like an animal, he'd get one.

You passed his trial with flying colours (naturally). When you woke up again, the syringe was with you. And, despite Eli (who had found you) telling that you had been off the radar for days you were fine (apart from your physical injuries). The only conclusion to not being in a coma was that Jacob Seed had given you insulin while you were with him. But that just didn't seem plausible.

You tried to think of another possibility, but you really couldn't think of one. Jacob had taken care of you. As strange as it was to think that.

Some weeks later, you were captured by him once again and put into one of those cages. You barely had a chance to wake properly when Jacob was with you, telling you about his time in the Military while Staci trimmed his beard with a straight blade. Kill him, you shouted at the man in your head, but he didn't hear of course.

When that was finished, Jacob gestured for another man to step forward. He carried a needle in his hand and you shrunk away from him instinctively when the door to your cage opened, only to be grabbed by Jacob from behind, through the bars you had pressed yourself against. Even through the metall, you could feel the unforgiving heat of his solid chest. His dog tags brushed your nape, making you shudder and struggle harder. "Stay away!", you shrieked at the man, trying to use your legs to kick him away until Jacob had secured these, too. One hand rose to rest against your throat, heavy and large but not contricting.

"Hold still.", he rasped, sounding almost bored, and your body immediately responded to his command against your will. Whatever Jacob had done to you in the time that you couldn't remember, it was effective. At least when he used that tone of voice. "Good pup.", he told you when he felt the tension leave your body. His praise sent shivers down your spine. "Don't you know that sick pups need their medicine so they'll continue to be useful?", he whispered mockingly, his rough fingers stroking over your esophagus - he could easily crush your trachea with the strength in those hands. You knew it as well as he. His affections were as intimidating as they were soothing.

Momentarily distracted by Jacob, you noticed the man too late and only felt a sudden pain on your arm, where the liquid entered your system. You tried to rebel against the intrusion but Jacob's grip was sure. He held you until after the door was closed again, his beard scratching your cheek when he spoke. "This was much easier when you weren't aware of you surroundings. Calm the fuck down, pup." You ceased your resistance and he loosened his grip by a fraction.

"You're continuing to show that you can't take care of yourself - don't be surprised when I do it for ya, pup.", he explained and you bristled at the insult. The hand that wasn't on your throat squeezed your midriff. "But isn't that against your creed? Y'know 'Cull the Herd'?", you asked, tipping your head back to look at him. Up close, his eyes were even brighter and his scars more horibble. He barked a harsh laugh. "The weak get Culled, Deputy. You've proven that you're a strong puppy.", he replied, teasing you just the slightest bit to annoy you.

There was a moment of silence between you. "Why haven't you told your brothers?", you finally asked, because - honestly you had no idea. Faith kept silent because she wanted you to trust her - she wanted you to 'Walk the Path.' That you could understand. But what was stopping Jacob? Why did he not tell John and Joseph that you were diabetic (flawed) ? Jacob shifted behind you, his dog tags clinking together. "Why should I?", he countered, "It doesn't matter if I tell them or if they find out themselves. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't change who you are, pup."

"What makes you think that they'll find out?", you wanted to know, focusing on that part since you weren't sure what to say to his other statement (it had almost sounded kind, like a true compliment). His snort was genuine. "If my brothers have anything in common, it's that they are both incredibly noisy. They'll find out all about your little secret sooner or later."

He ended up being right. It was a normal day in Holland Valley and you had just done your good deed of the day, when John apprarently decided that he'd had enough of the havoc you caused in his region. He sent his people after you, persistent peggies with fucking bliss bullets. That shit fucked you up like nothing else. Something in the Bliss just seemed to make your blood-sugar drop.

Which found you bound in a chair, memories of the Whitetails filling your head - at least there was no Jacob around to fuck with your head. No, there was only Hudson, secured like you were, and a few bodies hanging from the roof like they were some sort of fancy decoration.

You had a massive headache that was only made worse when John came in, whistling something in high notes that pounded against your skull. The light in the room was only low, but even that was enough to aggrevate the pain you were in. Everything would be fine if it were only the headache, but you felt faint and your inner clock told you that you should have gotten your shot hours ago. Your blood-sugar must be basement-level by how low it was.

When John assembled his equipment for the Atonement (a freaking tattoo gun!) you tried to focus in on him, but you felt your awareness shift like sand running through your hands. He was impeccably dressed, his blue dress shirt and vest complimenting his eyes. Not one hair out of place on him. He began talking to you about his parents, how he learned of the Power of Yes and you tried to pay attention, you really did but after a certain point, you had to fight just to keep your eyes open. You could have said something, you knew, but your Pride didn't allow you. You didn't want help from John of all people.

Even if you pitied him, imagining him as a little boy, laying on the kitchen floor, bloodied and broken. John could be very charming, but of all his siblings, he seemed the most volatile and you guessed his upbringing was a big reason why.

You noticed it when he stopped talking, and cursed your body when, instead of one John, you saw two of them, bleeding together blurrily. Fighting to stay awake, your head lolled agaist the back of the chair and you knew that your eyes must be glassy. "-puty? Deputy?", he asked, his voice rising. Concerned? Afraid? It was a stark contrast to the almost playful tone he normally used (when he wasn't threatening you). "What's the matter with you?", his tattooed hands grasped your shoulders and shook you.

You barely reacted, blinking sluggishly up at him, eyes dilated and unfocused. His hands slid up over your clammy skin and he placed one on your forehead, taking your temperature. He must not have liked what he felt, his perfect eyebrows drawing together. It was weird, but his hands were almost tender. Softer than you had ever imagined the Baptist being. The comfort of his smooth cool hands on your heated skin was a sensation you could get lost in. From this angle, you could have counted the tiny freckles on John's face if you were more coherent. The thought made you want to giggle but you were already too far gone to do much of anything.

On the other side of the room Hudson was struggling, screaming into the tape on her mouth. Right, she knew about your diabetes. She'd know the reason for your state. John seemed to realise this, too, as he strode over toward her, ripping the tape off. "Rookie has diabetes, you dumbass! There should be insulin in some pocket that can help." By then, your consciousness was slipping completely.

The first thing you remembered was fingers on your cheeks. You were no longer on a chair. Instead you felt sheets beneath your lying form.

"Deputy...", a muffled murmur and the fingers travelled over your face, down your throat to curl loosely at the point where shoulder meets neck. It felt strangely possessive. You hadn't opened your eyes yet and couldn't see the speaker's face but that voice could only belong to the youngest male Seed. "What are we to do with you...", he continued lowly, talking to himself more than you. (He probably thought that you were still unconscious.) "There is something about you...you foil our plans again and again...and yet...", his fingers tightened, frustrated, but he let go of you before it could turn painful.

You heard the shuffling of feet and the unmistakeable lilt of The Father's voice. "John.", he said and you opened your eyes by a fraction, enough to see John turn his back on you to embrace his brother. They pressed their foreheads together and whispered something too quiet for you to hear. You followed John's back through slitted eyes as he left the room, leaving you alone with The Father.

He stood at a distance, wearing the same (or similiar) clothes as the day of your Cleansing when John had almost drowned you. John who just now had been as gentle to you as if you were made of glass. "You are good for him.", Joseph breathed at last and you didn't question how he knew - without looking at you, that you were awake. "He let love in his heart today when he helped you rather than watch you suffer. That is what'll save him in the end." You blushed and opened your eyes fully; there was no use pretending.

It felt weird to see him in an ordinary bedroom. Made him seem more human and less like the Father. He had a presence that made him larger than life, a quiet authority that all of his followers, even his brothers, bowed to. His dominance was effortless. And yet, his eyes were solemn and gentle when he looked at you.

You did not answer his observation, slowly sitting up in the bed and resting your head against the headboard. You weren't bound in any way. The two of you watched each other and you, not for the first time, wondered what a man like Joseph Seed must be thinking about the whole damn day. Surely, not everything could be about the Collapse. He was human. He must think silly things sometimes.

"Are you in any pain, child?", he inquired after a while, closing the distance between you with measured steps. His stance was relaxed, arms loosely at his side approaching you as if he were a concerned friend and not your enemy. Not that you could seriously harm him in your current state. You stayed silent, just looking at him through tired eyes. He reached out and placed a warm palm on your forehead to check your temperature, letting his hand linger on your skin for longer than necessary. Private space was a foreign concept to those with the name Seed.

Joseph sighed, managing to sound fondly experated. "You mustn't push yourself so, Deputy. It is alright to accept help from those who give it willingly.", he paused, his thumb delicately tracing the curve of your cheek.

"It is through suffering that we Atone - that we grow closer to God - but we are only human.", his fingers ghosted over your pulse which was fluttering wildly. You remembered the story of how Joseph squeezed the life out of his daughter all those years ago. Had his touch then been like this, soft like the beating of a bird's wings? "Your perseverance and strength are only made more extraordinary in the face of your...deficiency. But you must be so tired. Don't you see that we worry for you? That we'll accept you in our family as soon as you accept us in turn?" His blue eyes, made greenish by his lenses, held your own. You swallowed.

"Joseph.", you said and it held more emotion than you realised you were feeling. "You know that'll never happen. I'll always fight you. Whatever punishment befalls me; I'll always defends what's right. You, of all people, should understand my need to help those that depend on me. And what you're doing is wrong. Killing people cannot be God's will." His expression looked pained and the lines on his face seemed deeper. Joseph drew his hand up to the back of your head, his other joining the first as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes, your face framed by his large hands.

"I will pray for you so that you may enter Eden with us.", he whispered against your skin, his beard scratching you softly. When Joseph leaned back, his features were carefully arranged to appear neutral. You thought that there was a certain sadness behind the calm depths of his eyes but you hadn't actually met The Father often enough to know for sure. "Rest now, my child." With one last look he turned and walked in the direction of the door. You had the urge to stop him but it was, once again, your Pride that kept you silent. You wouldn't know what to tell him, anyway.

Your heart felt heavy when he closed the door behind him and you noticed, with some interest, that no lock clicked. Joseph truly trusted you. And he worried. Hell, they all did. Each of the Seed had had plenty of chances to kill you or stand by as your diabetes became an issue. They had helped you. Admired your strength. It confused you as much as it made your face heat up.

And now you were left alone with your thoughts. How were you going to espace?

[kweebtrash]

Nights in White Satin (M)

Pairing(s): Kino, Hongseok, E’Dawn, Hui x Reader. This one is Kino focused

Genre: SMUT AF, College AU

Summary: Sexual Liberation Pt 8. First person POV, heavy characterization of reader. just a bunch of smutty goodness in college.

Warnings: there’s a lot of sex over the course of the series. In this chapter, double kino sexy time, fuckboy/tsundere kinda Kino (but we all knew this),phone sex, squirting, masturbation, hearing kino moan, i literally have this kink with rings i’m so sorry yall have to experience this but please bare with me, creampies, wet and rainy, hair pulling, choking, car sex

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: I flipflop between stage names and real names. Sometimes the formatting can be weird between mobile and desktop:/ Italics mean memories/past events and thoughts. In this one specifically it’s thoughts, a voicemail, and a fantasy. This one took me forever as well and it’s a freaking honker so get ready. but there is double the pleasure with this one.

Sexual Liberation Masterlist

Fic Inspo (Please listen to all these songs, they go along so well with this fic lmao)

Backseat-JYJ

Wet- Jooyoung (THIS ENTIRE MV YALL)

Nights in White Satin- The Relentless (yes this lowkey became a songfic shutup and this one is like the important one clearly because it’s the title lmao)

Hyuna fucked me against the window of the hotel room. Hui fucked me on the balcony. Hyojong fucked me in the hottub. And we had all somehow fucked each other in the giant shower stall without anyone slipping and sliding to their doom. To say that i was exhausted was an understatement. I was just a walking corpse, drained of any feeling and energy (or cum). Sunday morning we bid Hyuna goodbye before she got on her private jet. She cried a bit when she had to leave Hyojong and he spent several minutes reassuring her. It was really sweet. They seemed perfect for each other. I squeezed Hui's hand as i watched. I was being a bit of a glutton for punishment at this point.

She said goodbye to us next, a little bit faster since her plane was scheduled to leave soon. Hui and I received a kiss and a hug each and a promise that she would be back soon. We watched as her car drove off, leaving us to drag our luggages to the train station and endure the ride back home. We all slept on the train but it didn't even feel like enough. The three of us were still shuffling around wordlessly until we finally collapsed in the dorm. I flopped onto Hui's bed and didn't move. He flopped beside me, joining me in my feeling like we were hit by a bus. If we had larger beds, Hyojong would have slept with us too but he stayed in his own room for the time being. Being asleep felt like a comforting void close to death but not exactly there yet. I wanted to stay in this limbo forever.

I was shaken awake aggressively and yanked out of my blissful coma. “WHAT?!” i rasped

“Get up. Class starts in 15 minutes.” Hui said. His voice sounded as bad as mine and he still looked like a truck had run him over. I looked at the window that was pouring in light through the blinds. It was the next morning but i felt like i had only slept for a few hours. I think it was about 15 though.

“Fuck…” I got up and tossed off the clothes I had slept in and pulled out an outfit i had packed for the trip but hadn't worn. “Can i borrow a hoodie?”

Hui yawned as he pulled one out of his closet and handed it to me. I threw it on and tied my hair up in a knotted mess of a bun. “Fuck…” I said again, now realizing that i didn't have my backpack. “I don't have anything to take notes with.”

Hui grabbed my shoulders and gently shook me. “Who cares? If we didn't get points taken off for attendance we wouldn't be going to this dumb class. Just borrow my notebook.” He walked out of his room and banged on Hyojong's door.

I grabbed Hui's backpack and went out to the living room area. Kino came out his room and stopped when he saw me. “When did you get-shit. What happened to you?”

I glared at him. “Kino, i'm really not in the mood.” My voice cracked.

“You look horrible.” He glanced over at Hui who was pulling Hyojong out of his room by his shirt. Hyojong didn't even look like he could function at all. “What did you guys do??”

“What didn't we do is the better question.” Hui answered. He got a bottle of Listerine and took a shot of it before handing it to me. I did the same and passed it to Hyojong, none of us actually having any time to thoroughly brush our teeth. Now we only had 10 minutes to get to class on legs that were too sore to move.

Kino's mouth stood agape for a moment but he didn't dare ask any other questions. We all walked to our Music Theory class and sat wayyyy in the back trying to hide from the prying eyes of teacher and students. Kino kept giving us the once over, finding new marks to pick out and make suspicions about. All hell basically broke loose when Jisoo arrived. She wanted to question everything that happened and wondered why the Trio of Doom had their new found seats beside me. I flopped onto the desk, the sound of everyone's voice drilling into my skull. “We fucked. A lot. A lot, a lot. We're tired and i'd rather be dead than here. And when my voice doesn't sound like a prepubescent boy I will tell you everything. For now, please shut up.”

Jisoo snapped her mouth shut and crossed her arms, staring at the presentation down in front, angrily. I spent the rest of class pretending that I was paying attention when in reality I was basically sleeping with my eyes open. It took about two more days to fully recover enough stamina. Classes were kicking my ass in full gear so I didn't have any more time to waste as midterms were in a few weeks. I had eventually sat Jisoo down to talk about what happened. I opened with, “So, i'm bi.” which earned me a loud screech from Jisoo.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re bi? What the hell happened on that trip? What kind of sex did you have???” She paced the length of her bedroom as she tried to wrap her head around what I was saying. I laid back on her bed and answered a text from Hui.

“Well let’s see...Hyojong got me vibrating panties and somehow got me to put them on without me noticing and he turned them on in the damn train station. Then I found out he brought sex toys and to get back at him I fucked him with a strap on. Then i found out he had a girlfriend-”

“WHAT?!”

“Hold on, it gets better. So his girlfriend is totally okay with me fucking Hyojong and we basically fucked the entire weekend. I got deepthroated like 7 times which is why I sounded like a croaking frog. And Hui is L O U D so he sounded terrible too. I was handcuffed and spread every which way so my body just gave out on me.”

Jisoo stared at me for a long while. “What even is your life….”

“You’re telling me. Fuck if I know. I just need my voice to recover so I can make up my stupid vocal lesson. At least that paper for Music Theory is out of my hair.” I sighed and looked at my phone again as I got another notification.

“You are...is this your life now? Is this just what you’re going to do for the rest of college?” Jisoo asked.

I sat up and looked at her, confused by what she meant. “What do you mean exactly?”

“Like are you just going to focus all your energy into becoming obsessed with fucking these guys?”

“Jisoo, all my energy isn’t going into them. My grades are still good and I’m working hard on all my practices. I danced through my pain and I still have blisters on my feet from practicing all day yesterday. Just because I’m involved with them doesn’t mean they’re going to get in the way of my dreams.”

“What happens when you start having feelings for them? Then what? They’re going to go back to Korea and Hyojong isn’t even going to think about you since he has a girlfriend!”

I got up quickly. “Why are you acting like this? It’s not cool.” Tears were starting to brim on my waterline. Jisoo had never spoken to me like this before.

“I’m just telling you the truth in hopes that you realize what it’s doing to you. You can’t just fuck people for months on end and not develop feelings for them. It’s only a matter of time and then you’ll be stuck with trying to figure out who you want to be with.” She sighed. “Look i’m not trying to be mean, I just need you to get your head together before this all dumps on you at once.”

I looked away from her and tried to blink away my tears. “I’ve got to go. I-I need to meet Hui. I’ll see you later.” I rushed out of her apartment and headed towards Hui’s dorm. I didn’t want to think about Jisoo being right, I really didn’t. But I thought back to what Hyojong said to me about me being his girlfriend. And about Hui saying that Hyojong would basically have to fight him if he wanted to have me. I shook my head to try and push those thoughts back where they belonged, in the box of denial in the back of my mind.

_____________________________________

I knocked on the door waiting for Hui to answer. I was instead greeted by Hongseok. “Oh, Hongseok, hi. Is Hui here? I was supposed to meet him.”

“He's not but I know his piano lesson is today and that's usually like 3 hours or so.”

“Maybe i misread his text. I'll just head back to my dorm then.”

“Uh...no, that's ok. You can hang out here if you want, though it's just me right now.” He said a bit nervously.

“Oh, ok! I like hanging out with you.” I stepped into their dorm space and set my backpack on one of the couches. “How'd your history test go?”

He beamed. “I actually passed thanks to you. Thank you so much for helping me.”

I gave him a high five. “Yay! I'm happy that it went ok. I knew you could do it. You're really smart.”

His cheeks turned a bit pink. “Heh...thanks. Um...but i kinda need your help again. If you dont mind?”

“Oh? What class is it this time?” i asked.

He swallowed hard and stared down at his feet. “Latin dance.”

“A latin class?” i chuckled a bit, surprised. “I didn't know you were taking a dance class.”

“It's just the required dance credit I have to take. But i definitely chose the wrong class. I’m not much of a dancer. Do you know anything about it?” he asked.

I nodded and stepped closer to him. “Yeah, I took Latin one and two last year. Here, put one hand on my waist,” I guided his hand to right above my hips. “And one hand up, hold mine.” Our hands cupped together in the air. “Now for the basic step it's about two steps forward, slight pause, two steps back. Lead with the left.”

I guided him into the basic step, laughing as I had to repeat and slow down for him. Our heads even bumped together a few times because he was so focused on staring at his feet. “You have to look up when you do it! You're gonna have points taken off!”

“Im sorry, Im sorry!” He rubbed his forehead where we had clashed together. “Im trying!”

“I know! But now we have to add the hips.” I placed my hands on his hips and lead them into small isolations. “When you step you have to add some hip movement. It goes with the beat.”

“O-oh...hips?”

I looked up at him and smiled. “Yes. Hips. All Latin dances are fun. Some are sexy and sensual You have to move your hips. Here maybe you should hold mine instead.” I switched the position of our hands and swirled my hips. “Feel that?”

He nodded. “I feel something.”

“Do you want to try it with music?” I reached for his phone that was on the dining table and took a misstep, my foot rolling slightly. Hongseok caught me instantly since we were still so close, my chest was pressed against his now, his hands on the small of my back, cheeks burning crimson. “S-sorry.” I stuttered. “I can literally trip on anything.”

“It's okay. I'm glad i caught you in time.”

He didn't let me go for a moment and I couldn't help but stare at his full lips. They just looked so soft and kissable. His hands around me were so warm; I could feel it spreading throughout my back. I dared to look up at his eyes which had been staring down at me. A nervous smile crept onto his face but neither of us let go. I swallowed back some of my nerves. “Hongseok...I…”

The door to the dorm swung open and Hongseok and I scrambled to pull away from one another and look as casual as possible. Kino kicked his shoes off and looked over at us, eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Oh I didn't know anyone was home. What are you doing here?” he asked me.

“I was waiting for Hui but I think I came too early. Then Hongseok asked me if I could help him with his dance class.”

“If you want better lessons, you should've just asked me, Hongseok.” Kino quipped.

“Well to be quite honest, Id rather not dance Latin with you. Unless you want to grind against me.” Hongseok chuckled.

“Ohh grinding. Is that what you two were doing?.” Kino teased as he came into the dining and kitchen area with us. “Is that why you want her to help instead of me?”

Hongseok rubbed his neck nervously “I- I…”

“I should check with Hui to see how long he's going to be.” I tried to shift the tides and ease the awkwardness of the situation. I leaned over the back of the couch and dug into my backpack to retrieve my phone. I sent a quick text to Hui to see when he might be done. I felt a slight unease as if Hongseok and Kino were watching me but when i looked back their eyes were shifting and avoiding me. I smoothed out the back of my skater skirt. “What?”

Hongseok's face was even more beet red. “Nothing! Nothing…”

“You guys are weird…” I made my way over to the fridge and grabbed the filter water pitcher and a glass from the cabinet. Kino crept behind me and grabbed my ass firmly, making me almost drop the pitcher.

“You look good in that skirt. Did Hongseok have some wandering hands during your practice?” he whispered in my ear.

I shoved him away quickly. “What? Are you jealous now? It's just dancing, Kino.”

“Me? Jealous of Hongseok? Please.” He jumped onto the kitchen counter and took the glass of water from me.

I glared at him as he took a long gulp. “He has way more manners than you will ever have. And i'm sure if something was going on between us-which it's not, by the way- he would be nothing short of a gentleman.”

“Gentleman cant fuck.”

I tried to keep my voice as a whisper but Kino always made me want to scream. “Well gee, Kino, did it ever occur to you that I don't always want to fuck!? Maybe I want to go out on a date or two.”

He rolled his eyes. “Dating would mess up what we have. That's like the rule.”

“I didn't say go on a date with you, jackass. I wouldn't stoop so low.”

“Ouch, damn.” He said, and I almost thought he was actually offended. He set the glass down and jumped off of the counter. “I wouldn't say that about you.”

My mind was still a mess after my conversation with Jisoo. “Well which is it? I don't get you Kino. What exactly do you want?”

He didn't answer me and instead stormed off to his room. What the absolute hell?? I patted Hongseok's shoulder and advised him that i'd be right back. I followed Kino to his room and shut the door quietly. “What's your deal?”

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it in his pile of dirty laundry. “Nothing's my deal. Go finish dancing with Hongseok.”

“Ok, correct me if i'm wrong but you just said you weren’t jealous of Hongseok and insinuated that if I were to have sex with him it wouldn't be good because you can fuck better than him. Then the topic of dates came up-”

“You brought that up. And I had to remind you that dating isn't part of our deal. I know you can't resist me but don't you think that would muddy up the waters, hmm?”

“There is no muddying of waters!” I stomped my foot, frustrated and annoyed at him. “I never said I wanted a date with you. But if I had to go on a date with Hongseok it would be much nicer.”

He took off his basketball shorts and tossed them in the laundry as well before going over to his dresser to pull out some fresh shorts. “Doubt it.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Ooohhh, I get it now. It's competition. You don't like anyone one-upping you. I can see that now. Yeahhhhh for sure! Everytime i would tell you about something I did with Hui or Hyojong, you'd want to do something better and harder.”

“I have no idea what youre talking about.” He didn't look at me though and I knew it was true.

“So, Kino,” I smirked as I sauntered over to him. “You would want to prove that you're a better date than Hongseok-if I were to go out on a date with him.”

“You're literally the one that's so obsessed with dating me now.” he said flatly. He still wouldn't look at me though.

“I'm not obsessed at all. After all, I’m not competing with others to coddle my fragile masculinity. But I'll grant you the favor of a date. It won't make things complicated but it will shut your mouth up. You just better make it worthy of being the best date I've ever had.”

“Fine!” He snapped back at me finally. “At least i know you'll put out on the first date.”

I was taken aback. I felt a stabbing pain in my chest as if his words had pierced through my heart. I grabbed the door handle and quickly walked out, not even wanting to stay for Hui or Hongseok. Was everyone just taking a stab at me today? Was this some cosmic karma bullshit coming to strike me down? I was over my friends being assholes to me and was ready to go back to being an introvert.

________________________________________

Hey….i just wanted to say that...im really sorry for what I said the other day. I mean, i wanted to say it in person but you walked out. I know why you did it but…-sigh- call me back, please?

It had been a few days since I had talked to anyone at all. I had ignored several calls from Kino this afternoon but when the voicemail icon showed up I decided to take a listen. I replayed the voicemail again just to make sure I heard everything correctly. He was being sincere which was a new thing for Kino; actually being nice and recognizing when he was wrong. I was shocked. I decided to call him back and see what else he had to say.

“Hello?” his voice seemed a little groggy.

“Kino?”

“Mhm...hey.”

“Were you asleep?” I asked and looked at my phone for a quick second. It was only 10 pm on a Friday. It wasn't really like him.

“Yeah.” He groaned and I assumed he was stretching. “I haven't slept much these past couple of days.”

“How come?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I've been thinking about you. And what i said. I didn't mean to hurt you. I really didn't. I just don't want things to be weird between us...but I kind of realized that going on a date didn't matter if you were mad at me. I don't care about Hongseok or what you do with him. We can just...hang out as friends right? We can do fun stuff together and still fuck, right?”

“Yeah...yeah we can Kino. It's all i've ever wanted. We fight a lot but...we have good chemistry. I don't want anything to mess it up either.” The tone of his voice had my cold demeanor towards him melting in a matter of seconds. Hearing him apologize meant a lot to me and it felt good for us to want to do something together without bickering. “Do you want to maybe go to the arcade with me? We can get some wings too. It doesn't count as a date. It's not a fancy restaurant.”

He let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that's totally how that works.”

“It’s true! Wings are bro food! We’re bros.” I laughed at my lameness then cleared my throat. I adjusted myself in my bed. “Are you going to go back to sleep now?”

“Only if you forgive me.” He replied

“If i don't forgive you would you stay up and talk to me?”

“If you forgive me, i'll stay up with you anyway.”

I smiled to myself. “Ok, then I forgive you...but you didn't answer my question. Do you want to go to the arcade with me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, i do. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow's good. If you meet me at my dorm we can go to the student parking lot to get my car and leave from there.”

“Sounds good…” There was silence for a long while. I had thought the call dropped.

“Kino?”

“Hmm? I'm still here...keep talking to me. I like the sound of your voice.”

I fiddled with the edge of my fleece blanket. “What do you want me to say?”

“You tell me, you’re the one begging me to stay up with you.”

That was true but we had never really talked on the phone like this before. Who even talked on the phone anymore? I talked to my freakin’ mom on the phone not my fuck buddy. I chewed on my bottom lip. “It’s kind of cold here… I have the heat on and i’m under the covers.”

“Well what are you wearing?” He asked.

“What am i-? I mean...like just a t-shirt and panties really. Why?”

He didn’t respond and it was like I could hear his smirk through the phone. “Kino, are you trying to have phone sex with me?”

“Well damn, it’s better than listening to you complain about the weather. And you woke me up. I need to get back to sleep somehow.”

Even though he couldn’t see me I covered my face in embarrassment. “I can’t do that! I’m not good at talking dirty!”

“Hah! I beg to differ. I remember a certain someone telling me that I was a good boy at the library. And you called me by my name. You know how to talk dirty. Don’t play innocent with me.”

“It’s different over the phone! It’s like...i have to think about it. I have to think about saying sexy things.”

“Don’t think about it, if you do you’re gonna force it and it’s gonna be awkward. Just breathe. Pretend I’m there with you.”

I set the phone down beside me and put him on speaker. Laying back, i closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I was thankful that my roommate was gone for the weekend visiting her parents. “You should be here. You could warm me up.”

“I’d love to. Your thighs would be really warm around my head. You like that don’t you?”

“I do.” I sighed and rubbed my thighs. “I really do. It’s my favorite thing when you put your mouth to better use than annoying me.”

“I like when your mouth is moaning my name instead of annoying me.” Kino retorted. “In fact...i love when you do those short little breathy moans, like when my tongue is inside you and you pull my hair.” He let out a soft groan and I shuddered.

“You do have a talented tongue.” I dared my hand to go a little lower and rub the center of my panties. “You know you’re kind of quiet when we fuck. You make rough sounds but i’d really...really like to hear you moan for me. I want you to whimper and feel your breath catch in your throat. I want to hear you say my name, Hyunggu.”

He cleared his throat. “W-wha…”

I rubbed myself slowly, imagining Kino in his dark room, his hand wrapped around his cock. “I would love to hear you baby. Please? For me?”

“I-i-i’m sure I don’t sound as sexy as you...you know i-”

“Are you shy now, love? Do you not want to make me wet for you?”

He was silent for a moment but I could hear his sheets rustling. A few moments later I heard slick sounds of skin on skin. His breath was becoming slightly heavy. “I do...I want you dripping and fingering yourself, like that video you sent me.”

“Oh, the snap.” I let out a sensual giggle. “I had been thinking about you coming into my dorm and begging me to fuck you. I was using my vibrator but it wasn't enough. I wanted to feel you inside me Kino.” My fingers trailed inside my panties dancing in the wetness that pooled from my entrance. I stroked myself slowly, up and down...up and down, spreading my slick over my folds and clit. The more I thought back to that fantasy the more it fueled my passion.

The softest of moans escaped him. I had to strain my ears just to hear it but it made my toes curl instantly. “Fuck, I love being inside you…”

“You're still holding back, baby.” I spread my legs a little wider wanting better access to my entrance. I pushed one finger in easily but that didn't last long. I added another, curling the tips ever so slightly against my walls. I swallowed hard and licked my lips. The sounds on his end were getting faster. He was working his cock and I could picture how swollen he was; his hand traveling the length of his shaft, twisting slightly at the head that burned with sensitivity. Soft whimpers turned into harsh curses then short groans of pleasure. He sounded so good. My walls clenched around my fingers as my body shuddered. Just his sounds were driving me to the brink of an orgasm. Like music to my ears.

Then I heard my name. Over and over and over as the speed of his hand increased. I could hear the pace of his strokes quickening, the slickness of his precum was probably spread across his shaft. I thought about the way he tasted, the way his thick cum felt on my tongue. I lifted my knees towards my chest, fingering myself deeper as I was so desperate for him to hear me cum.

His breaths were ragged and intense now but he managed to speak. “I hear how wet you are, slut.” His short chuckle was filled with his usual sarcasm.

“You're the bigger...ahh...slut!” The last word came out as a cry as my fingers found my spot. “Now youre so loud. You like being loud for me, don't you, Hyunggu? You love being a good boy for me?”

He let out a loud gasp. “F-fuck! Don't call me that.”

I pushed a third finger inside me, my hips rocking up to meet my thrusts. “W-why not? Does it make you cum hard? Is that your little kink?”

He was a panting mess on the other line. I could tell he was trying to keep his mouth covered or at least bite down on his lip. I wanted to see him but the mystery of how he looked spread across his bed right now thrilled me. I slipped my hand under my shirt and grabbed at my breast, teasing and pulling my nipple to its sensitive erect state. My mind was at work again, taken back to my fantasy of him begging me to fuck him.

My hips worked in rough circles, feeling Kino plunge into me deeper. Harder. Faster. My head was tossed back as a slew of moans released from me. His hand landed hard smacks to my ass leaving burning red prints all over my cheeks. I could feel him watching my tits bounce, that evil tongue of his peeking out from his mouth to lick his lips. Everytime he did that it made me want to fuck him even more. I grabbed onto the headboard as he arched against my chest., his cock throbbing hard inside me. My free hand gripped a handful of his silver hair and forced his head towards me. “You want to cum like a good little boy, don’t you?”

He nodded breathlessly. “Make me cum, please!” He begged.

I smirked down at him, watching every muscle in his body tense under his skin. I licked his lips and whispered against them. “Cum inside me, baby.”

My walls clenched around his swollen cock fueling his cum to spill within me, warming me completely. His hips bucked with each strand that left him, his hand gripping my thighs so tight i could feel the bruises beginning to form. I slowed my bounces down pulled off of him gently. I could feel his cum threatening to slip out of me. I moved my hand between my thighs and gathered his cum on my fingers pushing it deeper inside me. I curled my fingertips against that little pleasure center inside me, crying out his name as I brought myself to the edge.

“FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!” My thighs shook as my cum shot out of me, dousing my panties and bedsheets. My breath felt like it was knocked out of me and my whole body was tingling. My whole head felt fuzzy as if I had just fainted. I looked around the room still upset that Kino was in his bed and not here with me. I swallowed hard and reached for my phone with my clean hand. I took it off speaker and pressed it to my ear in time to hear Kino moan deeply as he came. His wet strokes were slowing down as his breath struggled to keep up.

“Y-you ok?” I panted.

“Yeah...yeah I’m good. You sounded so fuckin’ sexy.”

“Yeah..uh...i squirted. Like everywhere. So that’s a new one.”

“Wait by yourself?” He asked. I had normally only done so when he, Hui, and Hyojong were inside me at the same time.

“Uh-huh. I was thinking about something in particular and I guess it...just…”

“Will you send me a picture?”

“God you’re gross.” I rolled my eyes. “Only if you send me a picture of your cum?”

He scoffed. “You’re such a hypocrite. You first though.”

“Fine, Fine. But you pay for the wings tomorrow.”

He groaned. “The things I do for you. Now hang up and send me the pic.”

“You’re so commanding!” I hung up on him quickly and decided to make him wait. Mostly because my legs were sore and i didn’t want to move at all or attempt to make myself look sexy. I felt my phone vibrate and of course it was Kino sending me a bunch of chicken emojis. I sighed and opened up my snapchat trying to find the best angle to show off my soaked sheets and panties, my hand still rubbing lazy circles on my clit. Once i was satisfied with the video I sent it. Eventually i willed myself to get up and change my sheets. I got up and dropped my panties to the floor and pulled off the dirty sheets. I tossed them in my hamper and pulled out some other sheets I had gotten on clearance. They were some white satin-y kind of material and not quite the right size for my dorm bed but it would have to do. I wasn’t in the mood to do a load of laundry now.

My phone vibrated again and I opened up my snapchat knowing it was a notif from Kino. I clicked on the video and saw the expanse of his cum covered abs, his cock beginning to soften. He dragged his fingers through his cum and the video switched angles, showing his face as he sucked it off his fingers one by one. His saved his middle finger for last, pulling it out with an audible pop, and flashing it to me. He stuck his tongue out, the icing on top of his irritatingly sexy video. I groaned and flopped back onto my bed, screaming into my pillow about how he was going to be the death of me. That stupid fuckin’ fuckboy!

___________________________________________

I finished misting my face with my makeup setting spray and checked myself out in the mirror. Not too shabby. I adjusted the waistband of my suspender skirt and fussed with my hair a bit more. I don’t know why I was trying so hard to look good. Maybe because he looked like a Korean supermodel and I didn’t want to look like a whale-potato next to him. I sighed and willed myself to stop fussing. I was about to text Kino to see where he was at but I heard a knock on my door. I opened it and stared at him. He was leaning against the doorframe, casually, dressed in tight skinny jeans, an oversized black shirt and a leather jacket. His hair was perfectly styled in such an effortless way and I hated him for being so ridiculously sexy.

“Hey.” He said. His eyes were crawling everywhere on my body.

“Hey…You look so…..Korea.”

He pushed his hair back and I wanted to scream. “And you look so America. What the hell does that mean anyway?”

“You know like...fashionable.” Attractive. Gorgeous. Deadly. “Just you know…” I stared at the rings on his slender fingers that was sliding through his silver locks. He was going to kill me today. I just knew it. Maybe we didn’t even have to go to the arcade. We could just stay here and fu-

“Are you gonna keep creepily staring at me or are we going to leave?”

I stopped staring at his hands and grabbed my purse. “Yeah, uh...Let’s go.”

There was no talk about what happened yesterday night. No talk about the dirty snaps we kept sending to each other until we fell asleep. No talk about the way he was currently holding my hand as we walked to my car. I stared down at our fingers and could only think about how cute they looked together. I unlocked my car when we were close enough and was surprised when Kino opened the door for me. I gave him a brief confused stare before getting in. He was still silent as he got in the passenger's seat. The ride was only filled with the soft drull of my music from my playlist. My hand fell comfortably to the center console as i drove and i felt Kino wrap his pinky around mine. I glanced over at him but he seemed to be occupied with staring out the window. This was...strange. Was he nervous? Did he not want to be here with me?

A lot of questions played in my mind as I pulled into the arcade parking lot about a half hour later. We got out of the car and I shoved him playfully. “C’mon, loser, I’m ready to kick your ass!”

A smile finally brightened his face which infected me with warmth. It was nice to see him smile like that and have it look genuine. It wasn't a smirk or a shit eating grin. It was Hyunggu. “Race you there!” He called out before sprinting towards the entrance of the arcade. He got there first, sticking his tongue out when I arrived seconds after him, panting slightly. He opened the door for me and i stepped through, taking in the smell of cheap pizza, sweat covered plastic, and stinky teenagers. I loved the arcade.

I went over to the change machine and Kino and I both slipped in a 20 in exchange for some tokens. “What game you want to do first?” He asked me.

I looked around surveying the selection of games. “Zombies.” I ran over to the booth, pleased to see some annoying kids move out when I arrived. I stepped in with Kino following behind me, closing the curtains to create the dark atmosphere. I pulled a few tokens out of my purse and put them in the coin slot. Kino did the same and we grabbed onto the guns. “Okay, i'll lead and you watch my back and the sides.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Kino quipped. The countdown begin and the sound effects of labored breaths came through the speakers. Our characters ‘woke up’ as the throng of zombies crashed through a metal fence.

“Left.” I said as i landed two headshots. Kino aimed his gun and fired off several shots until he was empty.

“Wait, how do i reload?”

I groaned as I shot at zombies to pick up his slack. “Point the control off to the side and press the trigger. Hurry up!”

He did as I told and joined me in a murderous frenzy. We watched as other characters died and we prevailed. Kino landed a shot to some barrels of gas and made an entire crowd of zombies explode. I high fived him in excitement, loving the thrill of the high score. We were both acting like kids, laughing  and teasing each other to see who would die first.

“If you die first then you have to buy me a shot.” I told him.

“What, you mean in one year? I’m twenty, you idiot.”

I rolled my eyes. “I forget about that. Well fine, if you win what do you want?”

He fired a few shots as he thought. “Can it be anything?”

“Depends. I’m not going to like get naked in front of people or anything.”

“Ok, if I win, you come visit me in Korea”

I looked over at him briefly. “You serious? Like spend time with you there?”

“Spend time with all of us. For maybe like a few weeks or something. On your right.”

I adjusted my aim guide and hit the zombie on the right. “Ok, if I win you have to pay for my trip to Korea.”

“Deal.” He said instantly.  I leaned closer to the screen, determined that moving my body with the control would definitely help me land my hits more accurately. I was deep in concentration when i felt Kino’s fingers stroke my neck gently, his rings sliding gently across the surface of my skin while his tongue traced the outline of my ear. My entire body shivered and I let go of the gun.

“S-stop that!”

Kino pulled away and smirked as he landed a four hit combo. My character was already dead, my high score tossed away and replaced with Kino’s. I whacked the back of his head. “You cheated!”

“Ow!” He rubbed the sore spot and glared at me. “I didn’t cheat. I just used tactics.” He let go of the control as he died  “All's fair in love and war, princess.” He slid out of the booth while I cursed at him. I scooted out after him and saw him halfway across the arcade, heading towards the dance games. I had to run to catch up to him.

“Gee, thanks for waiting for me.” I grumped and crossed my arms over my chest.

He popped in a few tokens and hit the player one button. He raised his hand so the motion detector could register him before he selected a song. “You know you can do two player right?” I said.

He looked back at me after selecting his song. “Just watch and learn.”

The dance screen came up and filled with some anime looking girls. A sickly sweet pop song came on and I burst out laughing instantly when Kino started dancing to the cutesy moves. He had no shame in wiggling his hips and making cute faces. “Shake it but don’t break it baby!” I called out to him. He turned back to me and winked, holding up a peace sign before bouncing around again. I couldn’t help but record him, after all it could be used for future blackmail of him getting my ticket to Korea. But most importantly, he looked so adorable. The song finished and he pulled me over to him, panting slightly. “You want to try? You might want to start on easy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe you should watch and learn then.” I stepped up to the machine and registered the motion detector. It took me a minute to find a good enough song but I chose something a little bit more sexy. The music started and I followed along, a little worse for wear at first but getting into the rhythm of the pre set moves. I swung my hips and shimmied, bouncing my ass just a bit because I knew he was watching. I looked back at him and he had a smug look on his face. His thumb was between his teeth holding back what he really wanted to say. I finished the song, watching the results of my score. “Not too bad huh?”

He put his arm around my shoulder and hugged me tight to his chest. “You’re a cock tease, you know that?”

“Of course. That’s what I do best.” We walked away from the dancing games for now and tried to see what our next target would be. We passed by a photobooth and I watched as the display photos popped up on the screen. I stared at it a bit longingly. Kino stopped and looked at the booth.

“You want pictures?” he asked.

I looked up at him. “Y-yeah...I don't really have any of just me and you. I have pictures of me with everyone else and our group ones, but not any of just us. But we don't have to.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the booth. “Let’s go.” I plopped down on the hard seat and fixed my hair, smiling a bit to myself. Kino fed the machine a 5 dollar bill and clicked through some options. “What should the first pose be?”

“Sexy! Always.” I replied. Kino got a little closer to me so we were both in the frame. He bit his lip and entangled his fingers in his hair while I winked and showed off my boobs. The flash went off and we only had a few seconds to readjust.

“Aegyo!”

Kino scrunched up his nose and put up two peace signs while I puffed out my cheeks and poked them. The flash went off again and we couldn't help but laugh when we caught a preview of our aegyo picture. We looked so dumb. I didnt even notice when the third flash went off, capturing us mid-laugh.

“Shit! We messed up! Now we only have one left. what should we do?” I asked frantically as the timer wound down.

I looked at Kino for a second before he pulled me close to him and kissed me. His hands held my jaw gently and his lips were nothing but warm caresses. My fingers curled against his jacket as my stomach released a fury of butterflies. I heard the sound of our photos printing and Kino pulled away slowly. “We should get those.”

“Hmm?” I still wanted to be wrapped up in his kiss and didn't care about the photos now. He chuckled.

“C'mon, loser. I have to beat your ass at another game before we get wings!” He stepped out and sprinted off somewhere again, leaving me to gather the strip of photos. I looked over them again, laughing at our silliness until I saw the bottom photo. Surrounding Kino and I was a frame of little pink hearts with a little cupid in the corner. I bit my lip as i stared at our lips together, the way his hand rested against me, the way i held onto him so tightly… my whole body felt warm and even though I kept trying to clear my head those feelings wouldn't go away.

______________________________________________

Kino and I stepped out of the arcade later on in the evening. He was holding the giant teddy bear I won him while I had on the crappy glitter bracelet he won me. A sprinkling of rain had overcome the parking lot and it looked like it was only going to get worse. “Shit, let's go before it starts pouring.” I said.

Kino nodded and we shuffled to my car. He tossed the bear into the trunk before we hurried into our seats. Our ride back was quieter, our energy mostly spent at running around and playing dancing games at least 40 more times. When I pulled into the student parking lot the drizzling outside had turned into a torrential downpour and I didn’t have an umbrella. I groaned and sat back in my seat. Being soaked was not on my list of things to do today. Kino rolled his head to look at me. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to get out?”

“Kino it's pouring! And we have to walk all the way to my dorm! We're gonna get soaked.”

“It's just rain. We'll be fine.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You can go out and catch a cold, i won't.”

“Fine, maybe if we wait it'll calm down a bit.”

I glared at the rain splattering around my windshield, angry that it was ruining my time with Kino. He had turned back away from me, his head pressed against the window, eyes closed. His slender fingers drummed lazily on his knee and i watched the metal rings on his fingers catch the light of the streetlamp above my car. I don't know what it was but his hands were so attractive? Is that even a thing? Every single time they were touching me today I felt my entire body shudder. The drumming stopped and instead his fingers spread across his thigh. My eyes trailed a little higher towards his-

“You’re staring again, creep.”

I jumped up, startled at his words. I tried to say something but I could only stutter as heat rose to the tips of my ears. “ I-I was not!”

He turned and faced me. “You’ve been staring at me all day. What’s your deal? If you want to fuck just tell me.”

I rolled my eyes. “It was so much better when you weren't annoying today. I actually had a nice time with you.”

“I wouldn't be me if i didn't tease you a bit….but i had a nice time too.” He shifted a bit in the seat. “I want to do it again, if that's ok?”

“Y-yeah?”

He nodded. “We can go to the movies or something. A nice dark room in public. You love public places.” He smirked. I sighed and ignored him for for now, turning my attention back to the rain. The temperature had dropped quickly as the sun went down and the weather wasn’t really helping. A chill was starting to creep into my car. I hadn’t brought a jacket since the day started out fairly warm. “Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

He stood up and maneuvered himself into the backseat. “Alright well, I’ll be back here taking a nap and you can wake me up when you want to get out.”

I watched him through the rearview mirror as he spread out as much as he could in the confined space. He closed his eyes and placed his arm behind his head, adjusting himself every few seconds until he settled in a comfortable position. The rain still hadn’t slowed down and it felt like we were trapped. I switched on a playlist from my spotify so it wasn’t as awkwardly quiet between us. The minutes ticked on and I almost contemplated running out in this rain just to leave the car. But the prospect of being drenched while I was shivering still didn’t sound all that thrilling. I sighed and climbed into the backseat, whacking my head on the roof and practically falling onto Kino. “Shit! Fuck…”

Kino caught me, jumping up instantly when i fell on him. “Christ! Why are you such a klutz?”

“It’s hard moving in this car!” I yelled as I rubbed the back of my head. I plopped down between his legs and adjusted myself on top of him, my head laying on his chest. I felt him tense for a moment then relax under me. He settled his arm around my shoulder and shifted slightly.

“You still cold?”

I nodded and played with the lapel of his jacket. I wanted to tell him that i loved the way he helped me kill zombies, or how cute he looked when i beat him at table hockey, and that i really loved the shitty glitter bracelet we won me with his 20 tickets but i was too much of a chicken to even let him know that. I looked at him and his eyes remained closed, completely relaxed with a steady breath. Now that I was closer I could smell the musky sweetness of his cologne. It was lulling me me into into a steady comfort. I had never really spent time with him like this before. We barely touched after fucking. Sometimes, if i even stayed in his dorm, we would just sleep side by side and he’d remain closer to the wall as if he was allergic to me. But this was nice.

His hand came to rest on top of mine, his index finger tapping to the beat of the song that started playing. I lifted my head and watched as his lips effortlessly wrapped around the notes, my heart filling with the sweet sound of his voice. I had never heard him sing before. We had only ever had dance classes together since that was our majors. I pushed his hair back gently and his eyes opened. “You sound...amazing.” I whispered.

He licked his lips slowly and chuckled softly. “Thanks...i just really like this song.”

“I’ve never heard you sing before. I didn’t know you could.”

“I write and compose songs all the time. I just…” He shrugged and looked away. “Think I’m better at dancing.”

“I know what you mean.” I chewed at my lip a bit. “I-i don’t like the way I sound when i sing either.” I looked away from him, returning my face to the nook between his neck and shoulder.

“You don’t sing, you rap that’s different.” He said. “...Or do you mean you can-?”

“Hui says I can but i still think that sound like a dying cat.”

“If Hui says you’re good then you must be amazing. He’s basically the best singer along with Jinho.”

“Don’t ask me to sing for you because that’s not happening. I hate singing for people.”

Kino sat up, moving me with him. I had have expected him to tease and force me to sing but he leaned in closer, angling his head so that our lips were only centimeters apart. Now i thought that he was just going to land a kiss but instead he resumed his soft singing, the notes whispered against my lips. I closed my eyes and drank in the steadiness of his voice. My hands slid up his chest towards his neck where I rubbed the shaved nape of his neck. He responded by cupping his hands around my waist, holding me tightly. “Hyunggu…” I whispered.

He pressed his forehead to mine and I connected our lips. I kissed him slowly, our body heat finally putting a bit of warmth in the car. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth, dancing against mine and pulling a small whimper out of me. He smiled against my lips. “What was that?”

I hid my face in my hands. “Be quiet.”

“Oh, you’re really gonna be shy? Around me? Really?” He pulled my hands away and kissed me again. I leaned back in the seat, pulling him down on top of me. His hands slipped under my skirt and caressed my hip and thigh, pulling my leg around him so he could nestle between them. I don’t know why I felt a little shy. Maybe it was because he let me hear him sing...a certain air of vulnerability between us? Or maybe it was just the way he looked today. You would think I was a teenager with a crush. Whatever it was, it was slipping inside me with every kiss and pooling within the pit of my stomach. I could feel his jeans pressed against my center and my hips dipped into his. “You should’ve just told me this was what you wanted…” He cooed against my ear.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was still thinking about what you said. About me putting out on the first date.”

He kissed at my neck, gentle presses of his full lips on my jugular. “This isn’t a date remember? If you want something all you have to do is ask. And i also said I was sorry.” His right hand slid over my shoulder, down to my breasts, over my stomach, and under my skirt where his fingers danced across my panties. I nudged my hips up to meet his hand so he could cup me fully.

“Make me feel good. That’s what I want, Hyunggu.”

He licked his lips and nodded, barely saying a word as he busied his mouth with kisses across my neck and collarbone while his fingers moved under the lace fabric. His slender fingers stroked the length of my folds, the coolness of his metal rings against my skin made me gasp. My body shuddered as my thighs tried to keep shut.

“What’s wrong?”

I swallowed hard. “Y-you’re rings are c-cold…”

“Oh. Sorry, I’ll take them off.” I gripped his wrist before he could pull his hand away and pressed my entrance onto his fingers.

“Don’t you dare.” I moaned. “Keep going.”

He clicked his tongue and kept his fingers pressed inside me. “You never cease to amaze me.” His free hand gripped mine tightly, our palms pressed together, fingers hugged tight against each other. My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to spread my legs wider but my car was so small it was hard to move around. I groaned, a mix of frustration and pleasure. I wanted him deeper inside me and it was driving me insane.

“K-Kino…” I opened my eyes and found that he had been looking down at me, a small smirk across his lips. “W-what…?”

“Nothing. You just look good.” He shrugged and slowed his thrusts. “Your car is really small.”

“Yah, ya think?” I sighed and sat up. “Do you just want to go inside?.”

“No. Not at all.” He pulled me up from the seat and bent me over the center console. I gasped as i almost fell into the front seats, bracing my hands near the gear shift. Just as I was about to yell at him, I felt Kino’s warm tongue on my center. “F-fuck, Kino don’t do that.”

He ignored me and continued small licks to my folds, letting out a soft moan in between. My breath hitched as I gripped the sides of the seat. His hands rubbed the swell of my ass until he grabbed my panties and yanked them down. He went back to work, kissing my pussy lips slowly while flicking his tongue against my entrance. His hands gripped and kneaded at my cheeks and thighs, his fingernails digging in ever so slightly. “Y-you’re not gonna let me out of this car, are you?” I asked in a breathy moan. I felt him shake his head while his tongue was still inside me. I nudged my legs apart a little bit more and rocked my hips back against him. His name became written in the visible puffs of breaths I exhaled as i desperately wished for him to touch me more.

As if he read my mind his hands moved around my thighs and down my calves, every ridge of his rings sliding over my skin like a newfound sin. My legs buckled when his hands came back to my upper thighs. He stroked the length of my slit slowly with the underside of his fingers before he nudged the design of his larger square ring on his index finger against my clit. I gasped loudly as my nails dug into the seats a wave of pleasure becoming a dangerous tsunami. He rocked his finger against me again, slow and torturous until I was screaming his name and begging to cum. My body was shuddering when he yanked me back onto his lap. I immediately felt his cock underneath me. “So, this is what you’ve been wanting, huh? I didn’t know you’d like these that much.” He held his hand up in front of me and i could see the silver glistening with my cum through the light from the street lamp above. “What about this one?” He pulled the textured metal band off his thumb and switched it to his middle finger. “How loud can you scream for this one?”

I tried to squirm away from him, afraid of the shit that was going to come out of my mouth as soon as his hands got near me, but he pulled my legs open and propped my feet on the headrests in front of us. I was panting hard, my back against his chest so I could feel his heart beating as fast as mine. I was spread open for him and he had enough access to slide the band through my folds. Every pass of the textured metal seemed to hit all my nerves that were bursting with excitement. “Kino...fuck...God. Please don’t tease me. Please…” I mewled.

His unoccupied hand slid under my crop top and yanked my bralette to the side. His had smaller, simpler bands on this hand but they still elicited that same thrill against my skin as the others. He was making small windshield wiper strokes across my nipple, making it bud to the surface. I could feel his breath across my neck before his swiped his tongue across my jugular. His teeth wrapped around the sensitive skin and pulled blood to the surface in a gaping mark just below my jawline. It was a spot that always made me go crazy, especially when Kino was the one teasing it. My hands were grasping for anything to stabilize myself and ending up twisting in Kino’s hair, yanking his head back hard.

He growled and released the hold his teeth had on my neck. “Ow! You fucker.” My eyes rolled over to him and i saw the dangerous smirk cross his mouth. “Do it again.”

I swallowed hard and pulled on his hair again. “Be a good boy for me, Kino.”

The sound he made was almost inhuman and made every hair on my body stand on end. I could feel his cock throbbing against my ass eagerly awaiting freedom from the confines of his jeans. “Is all that for me?” I asked in a teasing tone. He wasn’t going to be the only one going crazy in this car. “Are you gonna cum inside me, baby?”

I felt him tense beneath me, his dark eyes questioning every word I had said. I leaned in closer and pressed my words into his neck. “You are going to cum inside me Kino. I can’t wait to be so fuckin’ full with your hot...thick-” I gasped as he grabbed me by my shirt and slammed our lips together. His tongue was vicious, teeth painfully tugging at my bottom lip while his fingers dove deep inside me. His rings were pressing against my entrance, occasionally entering me as he forced his fingers knuckle deep. I could only swallow back my screams of pleasure as my hips snapped up harshly to plunge him deeper into me. Kino wouldn’t even let me pull away to breathe. Every moment was filled with him taking over my mouth and pussy. My nails were embedded deep in his scalp, my body shuddering violently as it begged for my orgasm to overflow. My back arched high as i felt his fingers curl deep inside me. My mind was screaming YES!YES!YES! as I tiptoed closer to the edge. But all of that was gone in an instant.

Kino pulled away from me completely leaving me breathless and pissed off. My legs fell from their propped up position, tingling like they were filled with pins and needles. “Get up.” He commanded. I growled and hauled myself up within the confined space. He worked himself out of his jacket and shirt before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down around his ankles. My eyes immediately fell to his cock that was now laying on his stomach, finally freed. He adjusted himself in the seat, spreading his legs a little wider before he gripped his shaft. I watched the rings slide across his skin, the metal clicking together ever so slightly. That simple sound triggered something inside me and if that wasn’t bad enough Kino let out a deep low moan. His head fell back against the backseat as he jerked himself a little faster. My cum that was still on his fingers mixed with the bit of precum spilling from his slit as he twisted his hand over his sensitive tip. I couldn’t wait anymore. If i did i was going to go crazy.

I pulled away my shirt and bra before climbing onto him. He looked up at me, our eyes locking as I sunk down onto him slowly. “Ohh fuck…” He groaned.

I bounced slowly, even though i wanted to fuck him into oblivion, teasing him as payback was going to make my orgasm that much sweeter. Inch by inch i felt him sliding in and out of me, our hips kissing every time i settled him in all the way. His brows were furrowed, lips frozen in a permanent moan. His hands were placed on either side of my ass keeping a firm hold of my cheeks as if he was trying to hold himself together. The windows misted with the fog of our breaths intermingling. He pulled me for another kiss, slowing down his pace a bit. His thrusts were starting to meet my bounces, matching the way his tongue caressed mine. Going slow was supposed to be torture for him yet...it made everything even hotter. We eased into a steady rhythm of grinding, his hips snapping up to meet mine in a harsh thrust. He was coaxing every feeling out of me in just one night and my mind could barely wrap around any of it. His kisses made their way down to my breasts and he captured my nipple in his mouth, sucking hard.

I held him tight to my chest, pulling at his hair when he pressed against my spot. He was filling me completely and it was as if my fantasy from last night was coming true. I was shivering in the stillness of the air but Kino’s hands kept exploring, grabbing, and rubbing wherever he pleased, warming me a little bit at a time. His mouth continued to work across my chest, leaving small hickies in hidden areas that only i could look at later. He was normally one for aggressively marking up in the most visible of places but these...looking back at these would help me think back to this moment with him. My body convulsed when i felt his ring covered fingers spread across the small of my back, the other hand crawling up my chest to drum its fingers across my throat. The grip came slowly at first, testing the water and my reaction. Of course, i fell into it easily, loving the way the metal clung to my skin, pressing into it like a branding, hot and stinging.

“Good boy…” The compliment fell into a rasp as his hand seized tight at my words. My eyes fell shut and it was like all I could hear were our moans mixing and the soft music still playing on my phone.The song seemed to be connected with our own tempo; a nice harshness mixed with a tender pace.

Nights in white satin Never reaching the end Letters I've written Never meaning to send

I could feel him throbbing inside me. He was coming undone but the look in his eyes screamed for my pleasure. He yearned for it just as badly as i yearned for his. My walls were keeping him trapped, flexing around his swollen cock begging for his cum. He landed a bite to my rib cage and i could barely squeeze out his name through the hold he had on my throat. My hand slammed against the fogged up windows, leaving streaks behind as my orgasm hit me hard. I clung to him, my nails making deep scratches between his shoulder blades when i at last felt his heat spread inside me. The sound he made had me riding another wave of ecstasy, extending my orgasm to another degree.

He fell back against the seat, his teeth chattering as our body heat wasn't enough to keep us warm any longer. The beads of sweat across his forehead felt like ice on his skin. I pressed myself to him trying to share what little bit of warmth we had left. It was a stupid idea to remove what clothes we had on just to get a bit more pleasure. It was mostly worth it though. Kino grabbed his jacket from the seat and wrapped it around me. “Here, you need this more than i do.”

I pulled my hands through the sleeves and adjusted the form fitting jacket around my breasts.  His eyes trailed across my torso and he grabbed my face, pulling me in for another kiss. His fingers on either side of my face had me feeling so comforted as our lips mated into a slow rhythm.

Beauty I've always missed With these eyes before Just what the truth is I can't say any more

Our foreheads pressed together as we separated for the last time. “I want you in bed with me.” i whispered.

He nodded and pushed me off him gently so he could pull up his pants and put his shirt on. With his cock no longer inside me i could feel his cum start to drip down my thighs. I tried to hold it in as best as i could, wanting to keep it there but it was no use. “I’ll give you more later, I promise.” He kissed the back of my hand before opening the door and sliding out. The rain drenched him instantly but he held his hand out for me to grab. I zipped his jacket up and took his hand cursing as the drops felt like icicles impaling me. I grabbed my purse and my phone, locking my car before we ran out into the night. The short run to my dorm made us look like we had gone through a hurricane. Kino was visibly shaking at this point and I rushed to try and get my key to swipe through the door lock. I finally managed to get us in and we shuffled to the elevator, leaving splatters of water across the tile. I looked over at him and felt so bad. His hair was dripping on his face and his body looked so small with his shirt clinging to him like that. I pulled him close to me which he accepted even though I’m sure the leather jacket wasn’t doing much to help.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little as we got to my floor. “We look like Jack and Rose.”

“Y-yeah. Just throw me o-off the door then.” He said through his chattering teeth. I pulled him along to my room and opened the door immediately turning up the heat. I helped him pull his clothes off and grabbed my towel to dry him off first. I pushed his hair back and guided him to the bed giving him a quick kiss before he slipped in.

“Get under the covers, baby.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled every blanket i had over him slowly easing his shivering down. I pulled off the rest of my clothes and dried off, tying my hair up before shutting off the light and retreating to the bed. Kino unwrapped himself from the blanket burrito and beckoned me to join him. I eased in and laid down. He pulled himself on top of me, settling between my legs and enveloping us in the building warmth. I kissed his forehead and pushed his hair back, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

“Stay with me Hyunggu…”

He nodded against my shoulder, eyes falling closed as his hips rolled against my center. “Always…”

Cause I love you Yes I love you Oh how I love you Oh how I love you

[accio-kitty-malfoy]

Feels Like Home

Chapter 4

Remus woke up cold the next morning after falling into a fitful sleep before Sirius had returned. He felt the stab of loneliness at not having the other boy curled up with him, but brushed it off and climbed out of bed to have a shower, throwing his towel over his shoulder. Once in the shower, he stood for a long while; letting the water wash over him and thinking about the previous day. Had he ruined things with Sirius by letting the wolf take over him. But Sirius had understood- hadn't he? What if Sirius hadn't meant it in that way? They were both testosterone fuelled guys pretty much alone in an empty castle and Sirius was very emotionally volatile after what had happened. What if it was just a way of him trying to comfort himself? But the electricity, the passion that he felt coming off Sirius in waves, he couldn't mistake that for anything else. He could practically still feel it, bouncing off the walls. He came to the conclusion that he should stop thinking about it and let Sirius make the next move, if there was to be one, so as to not ruin their friendship. 

Sirius had come back in as Remus had come back from the shower. He watched the other boy leave through one eye, watching him bustle about in his boxer shorts; his skin still damp and hair tousled and dripping. His eyes followed the path of a stray droplet. It ran over his collar bone, over his chest, over the contours of his ribs, down his stomach and disappeared into the waistline of his boxer shorts. There was no doubt in Sirius' mind that Remus was attractive, even though the boy hated his body. He tried to cover it up as much as possible because of his scars. They were all in varying stages of healing; from barely there to an angry red, fresh from the latest battle against himself. He sighed dejectedly as Remus pulled on some clothes; possibly a little too loud, as Remus turned and smiled at him.

“Siri, you're back. How are you?” Remus smiled at the other boy. He looked so damn attractive stood there in the doorway, eyes glancing over him. It took all of Remus' strength not to pull him all of the way back into the room and devour him. 

“I'm good. How are you, Remus?” Despite the use of the boy’s full name, the worry was evident in his eyes. The boys stood there, eyes locked when an indignant owl began knocking on the window. Sirius dragged his eyes away from Remus and opened the window. They darkened as he read the note the owl was carrying. 

“It says I need to go the hospital wing immediately.” The worry was evident in his voice.

“Okay. Get dressed and we'll go, I'll come with you. If you want me.” Remus laid his hand softly on Sirius' back.

“Of course I want you Remy. Erm, to come with me, I mean” Remus smiled and watched as the other boy left to shower and get dressed. He felt the loss immediately. 

They were on their way to the hospital when Sirius suddenly stopped and grabbed Remus.

“I can't do it. I can't go in there. What if she's died? Why else would they have called us? Oh Merlin; I've killed someone! Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What do I do? Remus. What do I do!”

“Breathe. That's what you do. Just breathe. You'll be okay; she'll be okay. Now come on.”

“No. I can't” Sirius had gone pale and looked as though he was about to pass out, or throw up. Or both. Remus enveloped him in a hug and stroked his back.

“Shhh, shhh. C'mon. You'll be okay. We have to go. You hear me?” He felt Sirius relax into him slightly and then pull away.

“Okay.” He took a shaky breath. “Okay. Remus? Hold my hand?” He smiled and took the trembling hand in his own. Dumbledore didn't seem surprised to see Remus with Sirius, or to see that they were holding hands, again. Instead, he smiled warmly and offered them tea which Remus took graciously. 

“Where's Pomfrey? What's wrong?”

“Nothings wrong my boy; in fact quite the opposite. Alaska is awake. Well, I believe she is napping at the moment. Apparently being in a coma really takes it out of a person.” Dumbledore smiled as the boys sat in shock. “I have invited you here to discuss Alaska's future.”

“Okay, what's going to happen to her, Sir” Sirius managed to choke out.

“Well, that's for you to decide.”

“No, what? Wait, what? I can't do that.”

“Of course you can. She's your responsibility; she's here because of you.”

“Professor, do you really think that's the best idea in this situation?”

“Of course, Remus, or I would not have suggested it. Now, Sirius; it really must be you.” The authority in Dumbledore's voice was something that, ultimately, neither of the boys could argue with. They ate a light breakfast in comfortable silence while Pomfrey gave Alaska a thorough examination to make sure everything was going to be functioning properly. As Remus was on his third cup of tea, Pomfrey emerged into the office, a light smile on her normally stern features, reassuring the men in the room that Alaska would, indeed, be fine. Dumbledore poured Pomfrey a cup of tea and they set to work drawing up Alaska's plans. 

After many hours of arguments, tea, sandwiches and chocolate, it was decided that Alaska would stay at Hogwarts. After all, all of the people who knew her thought she was dead. Pomfrey had told them that, although she would be okay, it would take a good long while for her to get to a healthy stage, as the accident had caused her to have severe trauma to her temporal lobe. She was to have her own private room somewhere in the castle, and when she was feeling up to it, if she wanted to, she would take lessons in subjects that didn't require magical ability, as well as a tutor to teach her in muggle lessons that she would be missing. It would be Sirius' job to help Alaska integrate into the world of magic and of Hogwarts and to make sure she felt accepted and comfortable. He agreed after much doubting of his capabilities and Remus convincing him he was up to the job, and that he would have his help and support all the way through. Dumbledore watched the exchange between the boys with a smile. Something had changed between them; he just hoped that they were not going to ignore it like so many students before them. After all of the important decisions had been made, Dumbledore dismissed the boys. They were not allowed to visit Alaska as Pomfrey was adamant that disruptions would not aid her healing, so they decided to have a walk around the frozen lake. 

It was snowing still outside, making everything sparkle. Remus loved the winter; it made everything smell fresh and clean. The lake was stunning at that time of the year; it resembled a mirror and Remus was taken aback as he caught sight of himself and Sirius. They looked beautiful together; Sirius was muscular and had dark, bouncy locks, an air of confidence surrounding him, whereas Remus was smaller, leaner and his hair was light and straight and his intelligence was tangible. They contrasted each other so perfectly that they came together as one harmonious whole. Sirius noticed Remus studying their reflection and pulled him closer by the shoulder, pressing their faces together.

“What you thinking, Remy?” Remus just blushed and looked away. They carried on around the lake for a while, marvelling at how beautiful it all was and talking about Alaska; getting excited about showing her all of the wonders of the castle. They both agreed to show her the map to help her find her way around the castle easier. It was also agreed that Remus would help her with her studies if she needed the support. After a while of walking, the snow had become so thick that they could barely see each other. Sirius held Remus' hand, telling him that it was so he didn't lose him as they walked back to the tower. 

Remus took that evening to catch up on some reading. Sirius did what he always did while the boys were alone and Remus was reading; he transformed into dog form and let Remus run his fingers rhythmically through his dense black fur. They sat together for hours, breaking only to eat a dinner of sausage and chips, pumpkin juice and gooey brownies for after. A sense of calm had settled over the boys. They were both able to relax now that they knew Alaska was awake and going to be okay. Around 11pm, neither of the boys could keep their eyes open, so they decided to head off to bed.

“I think I'm still sad.” Sirius looked at Remus with puppy dog eyes. “Can I sleep with you again?”

“Of course Siri” Remus smiled calmly, but on the inside, he was on fire with joy. The boys stripped down to their boxer shorts and climbed into bed, both of them feeling the static as they lay there together, in a blissful trance like state, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. It didn't take long before they fell into a slumber that was filled with dreams of one another; sweet kisses, fleeting touches, loving smiles and warm embraces.