#and talked to my sort of friend while he was mildly intoxicated for a few hours

[mackmp3]

[fandomlovingfreak]

Incidentally In Love (8/?)

Charlie Weasley/Reader

Rating: T & up ( Trigger: Pregnancy , mildly suggestive scene at the end but not explicit )

Word Count: 1660

Masterlist Link I AO3 Link

Summary: Sleeping with Charlie Weasley was easy. He was charming, and handsome, and was quite talented in bed... Finding out you're pregnant with your casual fuck buddies baby was not easy.

Reader's journey through co-parenting, an overbearing Molly Weasley who wants reader to marry her son to give the baby a "real family", and maybe falling a tiny bit in love with her baby daddy.

Enjoy

"Happy Christmas," I hear him mumble in my ear.

"Morning," I slowly turn towards him. Charlie looks awful. 

"I feel awful," he groans, shielding his eyes from the morning sunlight.

I roll my eyes, "You drank a lot."

"Don't remind me. How long do you think we can lay here before someone comes investigating."

"Not long. Besides, I need to stretch my back out." I hate how I can't get up on my own as I attempt to sit up. 

"Hey, (y/n)," Charlie says suddenly as I get to my feet, "Did I do anything last night that was--uh odd?"

I freeze, unsure if I should tell him about our little conversation and the many kisses we shared, "Do you not remember anything?"

His eyes widen as his cheeks quickly turn red, "What did I do?"

I grin, "Can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not upset, and it wasn't the worst thing you could do...but I just want to focus on Christmas and then settling back home."

He looks distraught but nods fervently regardless.

We make our way down the staircase, Charlie grumbling about it being too bright and too loud. He's got one hand on my lower back, the other holding onto the railing as he makes sure I don't miss a stair or get injured in any possible way. 

"Happy Christmas!" Fred and George yell in unison. The bastards know Charlie drank too much, as I suspect they are the ones who kept refilling his glass and are being loud on purpose. Charlie scowls at them.

"No need to be such a grouch, Charles. It's Christmas Morning!" Fred grins mischievously.

"Yeah, Charlie. Lighten up, mate." George claps Charlie on the shoulder.

"Shut it, both of you," Charlie growls. I've never seen Charlie so...annoyed before. 

"Honestly, (y/n). I don't know how you put up with him."

I grin, "I don't think I had ever seen him so drunk before. This is all new to me."

Charlie gives me an apologetic look, "I don't usually..."

"'ts fine. Just remind me never to let it happen again." I laugh nervously. Why does everything future tense sound so domestic between us?

Molly gets everyone settled in the living room before passing out gifts. Charlie is to my right, allowed to sit on the couch this morning because of his hangover.

"Do you need anything?" Molly asks me.

"Oh! No, thank you." I turn towards Charlie, who's irritatedly rubbing his eyes, "Actually, a glass of water if it's not too much."

Molly taps my knee once before disappearing into the kitchen. She returns moments later with the glass of water, handing it to Charlie. 

"Thank you," I smile at her.

"Of course, dear." She turns to grab something from her husband. It's a parcel wrapped in maroon paper, tied with a green bow. "And this is for you."

"For me? You didn't have to--"

"You're family, of course, we got you something." She sits back down as the rest of the family opens their gifts. Charlie's got one on his lap as well, but he waits to watch me.

"Are you--?"

"Um--okay." I rip off the thin paper, revealing a lavender knit sweater with my first initial stitched on the front in tan. 

Molly has made me my own sweater that matched the rest of the family. I hold it up, realizing that it's more than accommodating for my growing belly. I feel the rush of emotion overcome me over the sweet gift.

Like he's expecting this, Charlie's wiping away the stray tears that flow much too easily for getting a Christmas gift. 

"I love it," I assure Molly, "thank you." Charlie's got my face in his hands as he continues to wipe away the tears. I'm laughing and crying all at once. Laughing because it's ridiculous to cry over a Christmas gift, crying because it's the nicest thing anyone has made or got me in almost a year. And for the first time since May, I feel a part of something. Of course, I'm also crying because of the damn hormones that pick up on the slightest emotion and explode in an instant. 

I realize everyone's just sort of watching as I sob over the lavender sweater, except for Molly and Arthur, who probably are not too fazed by pregnancy hormones. 

"Sorry," I laugh, wiping away another stray tear. 

"Don't be," Charlie's voice is low as he wraps his arm around me, nuzzling into my neck. He discretely as possible tries to press a kiss to the edge of my jaw. I don't fight it. 

The tears finally dry up, and business goes back to normal. People pass gifts to one another, there are hugs and thank-yous and laughter. I lean against Charlie's shoulder as the joyful chaos develops around us.

"I got you something," Charlie whispers against my hair.

"Huh? You didn't have to buy me anything." I move to look at him.

"Truthfully, it's for the baby, but since they aren't here to see..." He summons a little brown bag, handing it to me.

I glance at him curiously before digging into the bag and pulling out a plush dragon. I feel the tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I examine the small toy. The tears spill down my face once again.

"Oi, Charlie. She just got done crying." Fred teases.

"I love it." I feel his fingers on my face. "The baby is going to love it."

"We're going to have a niece or nephew just as dragon-crazed as our brother. I can already tell." George says loudly to Fred. They both glance over at the two of us on the couch.

I smile at Charlie, "I wouldn't mind that." He's looking down at his hands, a little smile on his lips. "But, I didn't get you anything..."

"You're carrying our child. You don't have to get me anything."

***

Molly had knit a few things for the baby as well as her entire family's sweaters. "Just thought I'd get a headstart before they're born." She hands me the little bag. I pull out a yellow hat, admiring the beautiful stitching. 

"They're all lovely. Thank you so much." I place the hat back into the bag before I take her hand in mine, "And thank you for inviting me."

She fixes my wool scarf absentmindedly, like I'm one of her children, "Of course. Anytime you want to come over, even without Charlie, please come. We all very much enjoy your company." She beams at me, rubbing her hand up and down my arm.

"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciate the invitation."

"Anytime, dear."

***

"So what was it--What did I say last night?" He asks when we're cozied up on our own coach.

"You really don't remember--?"

"No," he doesn't look me in the eye.

I squirm in my seat, unsure how to start this conversation now that he says he doesn't remember anything he said or did. "Well, you kissed me last night."

"You let me kiss you? Did we--"

"No. No," I stop him mid-thought, "I would never take advantage of you while you were that intoxicated, Charlie. Never." I take his hand in mine, tracing over the cluster of freckles on his knuckles.

He looks at me with those soft blue eyes of his, "Then what happened?"

Sighing, I again summon the courage, "You said you wanted me to be yours? Many times."

He nervously chuckles, "I swear, I was drunk--"

"Be honest with me, Charlie. Do you--I mean--"

"I don't want to ruin this."

"And I don't want to lead you on or--make this any more complicated. I just..." I search for what the hell I want to say. On the one hand, I could just fall prey to the lingering feelings, and we could be together. But, there's always the possibility this doesn't work out, and not only have I lost my friend and lover, but the relationship we'll have to endure for the rest of our lives sharing a child will have become much harder than it needed to be. When I look at his freckled face, I can't help but think maybe he'd be worth the risk. "I don't hate the idea."

He perks up at the words, "Don't hate the idea of what?"

I'm not great at this clearly, "I don't hate... the idea of being yours."

"Yeah?" He leans in closer, his face inches from mine.

Leaning in, I whisper, "As long as you're willing to be mine as well."

"That's all I want," He grins, moving in the last inch to capture my lips against his. His hands grip at my waist, pulling me onto his lap. It's awkward with my stomach, but the space we can't squash between us, Charlie makes up for with his hands. They squeeze my hips, traveling under my sweater to my waist.

"You're so incredibly sexy," He mumbles against my lips, brushing his fingers slyly across my swollen stomach.

"I've been told." I smile, running my fingers through his hair.

Charlie pulls back, "By who?"

I cock my head, "Don't start getting jealous over your own words, Charles."

He flushes, "I--I said that last night?"

I nod, grinning widely, "Yup. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a slight pregnancy kink."

His eyes grow wide at my teasing words, "What--"

"Don't be shy with me now," I purr against his lips before kissing him deeper.

Charlie grips my hips harder, rolling his hips against mine. "Maybe just a little bit. You just look so...good."

"Yeah?" 

He kisses up my neck, biting gently at my earlobe. "So incredibly sexy."

"Take me to bed?" He groans, gently getting us up from the couch and on our feet. 

"You sure?" his fingers caress my jaw, gently tilting my chin, so I look into the soft steel blue of his eyes.

"'m Always sure with you."

[devinescribe]

[Deja Vu]

Arisu Ryohei × Reader

Is it angst? Kind of, but not really. I heard this song, and this was the first thought that came to mind. So... yeah-

Warnings: swearing, needles, blood, does anger need one? Because there's a lot of that here, alcohol, implied sexual content, but it's not explicit? Like... it's implied what happened, but I didn't write it, you know?

It was a harsh breakup, you'd say. Of course you'd say that, you were the one who's heart got broken. Arisu had met Usagi, and you could feel him drifting away. So, when you broke up, you expected it, but it still hurt.

And now, you watched them across the pool while they sat eating strawberry ice cream together. You smiled sadly. You two used to do that. She was wearing his jacket, and it hurt you. You used to wear that exact same one.  You felt someone sit besides you. "Watching them again, huh?" They said. "Yep. Is it weird?" You asked.  You looked besides you seeing him look up with a questioning look. "Yes, but no? What do you want me to say?'' He joked. You shoved his shoulder. "You're so mean Niragi. I'll push you into the pool!" you pouted, ending in a laugh. He chuckled, "Yeah yeah. Let's go, that isn't good for you."

"So when's he gonna tell her?" You asked, laying on his bed. "Tell her what?" Niragi asked. "That we did that too... She thinks it's special, but it's all reused," you responded. You could hear him sigh. "Look, I want to be nice, because I- we're... acquaintances... or whatever you want to call us. So, here's how you're going to get over him."

You laughed, taking another sip of the beer bottle. There were bottles littered around the room, and the blasting music from the party could be heard in his room. The vibrations from the bass could be felt, making you sigh. "Ok, I'm ready!" You shouted eagerly. "I don't even know why the hell you grabbed these in our last supply run," he laughed, holding the small package. You shrugged, "Thought I'd get the courage to do it." You two were very much drunk, and you were about to do mental breakdown things(TM). "Just do it before I regret my decision!" You scolded, with a playful glare. He laughed, "Ok ok, stick out your tongue, I think you've had the ice in there long enough." You did as he told you. He held your tongue still with his fingers, and he grabbed a needle with his other hand, looking at you to make sure. You tried not to laugh, and nodded. He stuck the needle through quickly. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, but somehow no pain. Maybe it was because you numbed it with ice, or the fact that your broken heart hurt more. You waited for him to stick the piercing through, and take his hands away from your mouth. "And we are done!" He shouted with a laugh, wiping off the blood that had gotten on his hands. You stumbled off the bed, sticking out your tongue in the mirror. "Oh I'm fucking hot," you said. You could heat him laugh. Blood dripped from your mouth onto the drawers beneath. He didn't seem to care about the mess. "Am I supposed to bleed that much?" You asked. He shrugged. You turned with a mildly shocked expression, and hit him. You both started laughing. "I'm going to regret this aren't I?" You asked. "It's better than cutting your hair, trust me. Best impulse mental breakdown things I've ever done are tattoos and piercings," he responded. You laughed, rolling your eyes. "What else should we do?"

"Alright, now, just scream into the open," he instructed. "Won't anyone hear?" You asked. You two had somehow managed to stumbled up the stairs, and were now on the roof. A danger hazard, seeing as you two almost didn't make it up the stairs. But in that moment, neither of you cared. "Eh, they're to drunk to care," he said. You nodded, before adding, "But you're doing it with me." "No, I'm just going to let you have all the fun- duh, I'm going to do it," he said. You took a deep breath, getting your anger and pent up rage towards Arisu and Usagi.

"I HATE TO THINK THAT I WAS JUST HIS TYPE!"

"THE GIRL I LIKE IS STUCK ON A DUMBASS BOY WHO DOESN'T DESERVE HER!"

"HE DOES ALL THE THINGS WE USED TO DO WITH HER!"

"I WISH I DIDN'T HAVE CHISHIYA TO BOTHER ME EVERYDAY!"

This was therapeutic to both of you. He didn't want to reveal how he was really feeling, but alcohol does something to people. So, if he said something a bit personal, hopefully you wouldn't remember. Hopefully you were to drunk to remember. And although he knows he'll remember because he's not as drunk as you, he hopes he doesn't remember either. Just so he doesn't hate himself for saying something.

"SHE'S BASICALLY ME AND IT MAKES ME ANGRY BECAUSE ALL THAT SETS US APART IS HER LOOKS! SHE'S EVERYTHING I WISH I LOOKED LIKE AND ARISU FUCKING KNOWS THAT!"

"I HATE THAT NO ONE HATES ME MORE THAN I HATE MYSELF!"

"I HATE THAT HE TOLD ME I DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HER! I WAS SO FUCKING RIGHT TO BE INSECURE WHEN SHE'S EVERYTHING I WISH I WERE!"

"I'M MAD AT THE FACT CHISHIYA SAW ME FALL INTO THE POOL AND NOW USES IT AS LEVERAGE!" (trying to make you laugh? Kinda. Trying to make myself laugh? Definitely.)

"THE SONGS WE USED TO LISTEN TO REMIND ME OF HIM AND IT HURTS TO NOT BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO MY FAVORITE FUCKING SONG!"

"I HATE BEING ALONE!"

"I HATE THAT I'M STILL IN LOVE WITH ARISU!! HE'S MOVED ON BUT I STILL FUCKING HAVEN'T!"

"I'M PRETTY PISSED OFF ABOUT THAT TOO, ACTUALLY!"

"I FUCKING HATE HIM! I FUCKING HATE HER! AND I FUCKING HATE THAT I'M JEALOUS OF WHAT THEY HAVE, BECAUSE IT'S ALL EXACTLY THE SAME AS WHEN ARISU AND I WERE TOGETHER!"

"THE FACT (Y/N) DOESN'T KNOW SHE DESERVES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF!"

"THE FACT NIRAGI SAYS HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY GODDAMN FRIENDS ANNOYS ME BECAUSE I'M RIGHT FUCKING HERE!"

"THE FACT (Y/N) IS OBLIVIOUS TO EVERYONE'S FEELINGS FOR HER IS ANNOYING AS HELL!"

"THE FACT NIRAGI THINKS PLAYING THE TOUGH GUY SCARES ME MAKES ME WORRY ABOUT HIS MENTAL HEALTH!"

"I WISH SOMEONE WOULD HIT ME THE WAY THEY DID IN HIGHSCHOOL SO I COULD FORGET ABOUT MY FEELINGS FOR THIS GIRL!"

"I WISH NIRAGI DIDN'T KEEP ANY SECRETS FROM ME SEEING I'M HIS BEST FRIEND!"

"I WISH (Y/N) WOULD ACKNOWLEDGE OR AT LEAST NOTICE THE FACT THAT I'VE LIKED HER FOR- FUCKING- EVER!"

You panted from screaming so much, and looked at him shocked. "Shit, I didn't meant to-" he started. Maybe it was the alcohol, the sadness you felt, but you pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and all over the place, but in your intoxicated state, it felt like heaven on earth. You could care less about it, because a part of you had always wanted to do this. With Niragi. The feelings for him were always there, you just felt stronger ones for Arisu. And over the past few days, your feelings had grown. Maybe it was the fact that he was the one helping you through the breakup. He was there, and he seemed to care. And moreover, Arisu wasn't a thought in your mind in this moment. The hurt had gone away in that minute. Would you regret this in the morning? Maybe, maybe not.

You woke up due to the throbbing headache you had. You grabbed your head, sitting up. The blankets fell of your body, and you looked down. "Oh fuck... what happened last night?" You questioned, seeing as your clothes were nowhere to be found. You looked besides you, seeing Niragi on the other side of the bed. Your jaw dropped. "I- ma'am, did I-? Oh no. Oh nonononono, what the fuck-" you panicked. Not because you didn't like him, but more because you were drunk, he was your friend, and you were trying to get over a breakup. Which, in drunk (Y/N)'s defense, you did seem pretty over it when you were with Niragi.  You heard a groan, and looked besides you. "Good... morning?" He muttered sleepily. 'Hot-' 'Shut up you horny bitch' You ran your hands through your hair. "I- what did we do?" You asked, even though it was obvious, and the fact that you could remember certain events from last night made you blush. "Well, first you were watching those two being couple-y, then we got drunk, you more than me though, you pierced your tongue, we screamed off the roof, and things escalated from a kiss, and now we're here," he explained. How the hell did he remember so much? Wasn't he just as drunk as you? "And before you ask, I may get drunk, but my memory will not falter. I've tried. Doesn't work," he said. Could he read your mind? You sighed, falling back. He looked away, trying to sort out his own feelings. A part of him was happy, seeing the hickeys and marks over your body. He had wanted to do that forever. Another part felt regret because you two were drunk. It didn't matter what had happened, neither of you were in the right state of mind. He knew whatever had happened was merely the alcohol messing with your brains, and the hurt from your broken heart. It wasn't real feeling. And the last part was sad. Although, it was a small part of him, it was there. Sad because you would most likely want to not talk to him. Or, at least that was the worst case scenario in his mind.

"Do you... do you regret it? Be honest," you said. Your voice was so quiet, he could've missed it.  He looked down at you, seeing you stare blankly up at the ceiling. He scoffed. "Hell no. And I don't care if you do, because I don't. I won't either. I've wanted to do that for so long, but you were with him," Niragi answer bitterly. You looked over, surprised. "You don't regret it?" You asked again. He shook his head. You sat up, crawling on the bed over to his side. "I don't... I don't know how to feel. I remember... its and bits of it... I just don't want you to think I did it to get over Arisu," you explained. "I wouldn't think that. See, the thing about alcohol is it can make people act how they want to act and see what they want to see. And the fact you were screaming my name and not his even as drunk as we were tells me something," he said, a teasing tone so very present. . You could hear the smirk in his voice. You blushed, and leaned your head on his shoulder. Had you really? "Then... what are we?" You asked. "Ah, the age old question. This is cliche, no?" He joked. You hit him softly muttering, "Take this seriously please." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies. Whatever you want," he said. You pulled away with a smirk. "See, you left out 'a committed relationship'. That means you don't want that," you pointed out. He scoffed, fake hurt written on his face. "I just didn't know if that was too much for you. But I'd enjoy it."

You finally felt... complete. For the first time after the breakup, you didn't look to see where they were to avoid them. You didn't feel jealous or sad over the fact that they were talking about what used to be your song. Because now, it wasn't your guy's song. It was theirs. And that was OK now. Because you could see the hurt that his eyes held when Niragi's arm was around your waist. The shock on his face when you talked to them, and his eyes moved over the hickeys and marks littering your skin.

Slowly over the next few weeks, you heard Arisu accidently call Usagi your name, the same way he'd called you her name. It made you laugh. Because now, you were happy, and he was the one in pain. He was the one who would regret everything. Not you.

"(Y/N), can we talk?" Arisu asked. You pouted, but got off of Niragi's lap. He pecked your lips, glaring at Arisu. You could hear Arisu gulp, and you snickered. You two walked away.

"What did you want to talk about?" You asked. "I-... I'm sorry for how I ended things," he apologized. You nodded with a smile. "I accept your apology," you said. You could feel where this conversation was going, and it made you giddy with excitement. "I miss you, you know. I wish I hadn't done that, I was stupid," he said. You smirked. Exactly what you thought he'd say. "Look, I wish you and Usagi the best. I've moved on. I'm finally happy without you, and it's the best feeling in the world. You breaking up with me hurt so much at first, I thought I was going to die. But it ended up being the best gift you ever gave me. You do all the things you used to do with me with her. And I hope it gives you deja vu, so you can remember that I'm better. Sure, she's amazing, but she's basically me. I'm finally feeling confident, and not like I have to compete with another girl who's everything I want to be. Around him, I don't have to act like someone else because I want to make him happy. I act like me, and he actually likes the real me. I always told you to not worry about him because we were just best friends, but now that I'm here... you really were right to worry about him. I was always the better choice, and I'm glad you're realizing it when I don't need you to anymore. I'm with Niragi now, and I'm sure he's waiting, so... goodbye. Good luck with Usagi though, Arisu. Treat her well, and... as I said earlier, I hope you get deja vu when you see her and you're doing the things we used to do."

I still can't write angst for shit, oh my gods-

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison payne

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

WASHINGTON D.C. — HOME to the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, a metro that no longer catches on fire, and most importantly, one Y/N L/N's new university. Coming in as a transfer student in the second semester of her junior year wasn't exactly her ideal scenario, but walking across a stage in a cap and gown sixteen months later certainly was — a degree is a degree.

She'd spent the previous two semesters abroad, traveling throughout Europe and trying to figure out her next step. She hadn't yet paid her junior year tuition, and on one fateful night in northern Italy, she transferred to the University of Westphalia on a whim (that whim being a generous financial aid package and a pre-existing housing offer, but that was neither here nor there). It'd been a jarring few months, spending the Christmas season packing up her entire life to not only leave Europe — a process that came with many heartbroken nights of hotboxing a friend's apartment and mourning the loss of her societal nap times — but also finally abandoning her hometown in favor of moving to the east coast.

The change may have left a lump in her throat, but it lifted a weight from her shoulders; she felt light on her feet despite the heavy D.C. snow. Much of the credit for that had to fall to her dearest Dolley Payne, the light of her life, the wind beneath her wings, the old best friend who'd found herself a dirt-cheap apartment just outside of campus and offered that Y/N come be her roommate. How could she resist a proposal like that?

However, that was also how she found herself a drink and a half deep and putting back on her boots at nine o'clock the night before classes started.

"Are you sure going out right before the first day back is a good idea?" Though Y/N was eyeing Dolley skeptically, she just rolled her eyes, pulling on her coat and scarf.

"Relax, it's not like we're going clubbing," she assured her, but when Y/N raised a dubious eyebrow, she continued, "Come on! You literally moved in last night. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't take you out at least once before everything's back in college mode?"

Dolley nudged Y/N playfully as she pulled on her coat, and the latter sighed. "I'm a new student here, Doll. I don't think showing up hungover to my first class is a particularly good look."

"You don't even have class until 3 PM!" she argued, and though she pursed her lips, Y/N had to admit Dolley had a point. "Relax, I won't even get you drunk. I just need you to come see the cute little speakeasy on fourth street. It's my favorite spot."

"'Speakeasy'?" Y/N questioned, buttoning up the front of her coat, and Dolley nodded enthusiastically.

"Mhm. You've gotta know somebody to know about it," she said. "It's a pretty open secret in this neighborhood, but it's one of the only bars that isn't always crowded."

"It's a Sunday night; how many people are really going out drinking?"

Dolley gave her a tired glance. "You'd be surprised."

———————

AND WHEN THEY stumbled upon the bar not twenty minutes later, surprised she was.

"This is really the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on Y/N’s knee as she leaned toward her in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyes were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an expectant eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from the v-neck of his sweater to where it was pulled taut around his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck. "Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come here and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women."

"It's like that, huh?" His soft huff made her smile. "Maybe I bought a drink for the wrong woman just now."

Y/N turned to him with her brow furrowed, already opening her mouth to rebuke him, but when she saw his teasing smile, she stopped herself. "You still decided to come over, didn't you?"

"So, what, you're just too irresistible?" He rose an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"You said it, not me."

He laughed, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair beside her, and she pursed her lips as she eyed the man. He had a full head of dark, thick curls, and his tight sweater bulged at his biceps, drawing her distracted gaze away from his winning smile. "Mind if I join you, then?"

She was leaning onto the bar, resting on her forearms as she considered him, lips pursed. "I suppose some company couldn't hurt."

"Glad to hear it." Y/N was struggling to pull her eyes away from the wide grin he wore, but as he took a seat beside her, he didn't seem to mind. "So what's a woman like you doin' drinkin' alone on a Sunday?"

"Good question," she started, lips pursed as she considered him -- because really, what was she doing? Playing ghost wingwoman for Dolley? Reminiscing on her shitty flings in Europe? Trying to sober up from the sugar content of her sickeningly sweet cocktails so she didn't throw up from something other than alcohol? "Maybe I've just been waiting for someone to finally approach me."

Her mischievous smile made his eyebrows shoot up, surprised but more than pleasantly so. "'S that right?" The noncommittal tilt of her head gave him little to go on. "Sorry to say it, but if you're lookin' to meet people, this isn't the first place I'd recommend, sweetheart."

"It seems to be working for me so far," she pointed out, raising a smug eyebrow, and the man laughed, eyes shining. "Then again, I don't even know your name. Have we really even formally met?"

"You make an excellent point," he conceded, and when Y/N took another sip of her water, his eyes flickering down to her mouth was the furthest thing from subtle. "But what's the intrigue of a mysterious stranger approachin' you at a bar if I just tell you my name, hm?"

"What, are you going to make me beg for it?" The undertone of her own words certainly wasn't lost on Y/N, not as her voice dropped to a murmur, the corners of her lips curling up into a mischievous smile. He didn't seem thrown off, either; his eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, a fire blazing behind them that Y/N could've sworn hadn't been there even a minute before.

"Don't you start givin' me ideas," he said quietly, and she could feel her breath catch, her stomach turn, but she paid it little mind, "unless that's what you're really lookin' for."

"I don't think I know what you're implying." The innocent smile Y/N had plastered on made him raise an amused brow, despite that her voice sounded as though she'd been winded. "But it does seem awfully mean to make such a fuss over something so simple. I have to say, I almost feel like I'm being exploited."

"Hey, I came all the way over here. 'S your turn to put in some leg work now." When he bumped his elbow into hers, she hadn't expected to laugh at the brief, teasing action, but whether it was hormones or her excessive consumption of glucose, something about that night had her feeling just a bit lighter than usual.

"Alright, alright," she finally caved, dropping the coy facade. "What can I ever do to make up for the wasted martini and two meters of walking you had to overcome?"

"You can tell me where you're from, for starters." Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow at the question, folding her arms, but he only shrugged. "What? Haven't seen you around here before; I know I'd remember if I had." She rolled her eyes when he winked but didn't cut him off. "So what's your deal, then? In town visitin' a friend? Here for some kinda election event?"

"I just moved here, actually. I'm new to the neighborhood."

"So you're livin' around here?"

"So you're already trying to stalk me?"

He laughed at her accusatory stare, her lips pursed. "Nah, 'm just from this part of town," he said, but hesitated a moment to continue as he eyed her curiously. "Can you blame me for takin' interest when I hear a pretty face like yours is gonna be out 'n' about here more often?"

"Excuse you, I'm much more than just a pretty face," Y/N said defensively, but the man just shrugged.

"Well, since you're refusin' to tell me anythin' about yourself, how am I supposed to know that?" The look in his eyes was challenging, and she let out an amused huff, trying to bury how endeared she was in a facade of exasperation.

"Alright, smart guy; you win this one," she said with a scowl, but her lips quirked as she continued, "I just settled into an apartment building a block or two over. Now have I earned your name?"

"I'm Thomas," he supplied.

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated quietly, the look in his eyes softening. "So, where'd you move here from?"

"A little bit of everywhere," she responded vaguely, taking another sip of her drink, and Thomas cocked a brow.

"Care to explain?"

"I've been abroad," Y/N laughed, enjoying his look of bemusement. "I'm from Ohio, originally, but I went to Chicago for school, and I've spent the past year or so in Europe."

He nodded, pausing a moment at her words. "Really? Ohio?"

"I spent a year halfway across the world, and that's what you choose to focus on?" Her words were almost indignant, and the disbelief in her narrowed eyes made him laugh.

"'M sorry, I just..." He trailed off, his eyes wandering down her figure, and she gave him a skeptical glance, turned back to her drink. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a Midwesterner."

"There's a reason I ran for the hills the first chance I got." She snorted, taking a sip of her seltzer water as she shook her head. Her gaze was absent, drifting across the wall behind the bar, but before Thomas could question it, she'd turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "So what about you? What's your origin story? Texas? Alabama?"

"Virginia, born and raised," he answered easily, clear pride in it laced through his voice, but he glanced at her suspiciously a moment later. "I really strike you as bein' from Alabama?"

"Listen, the southern accent was all I had to go off of. I did my best," Y/N defended, trying and failing to keep a laugh out of her tone, and he scoffed.

"Sure you did, sweetheart." The sarcastic lilt to his voice came alongside a broad grin, and had his voice not been so playful, she may have written him off right there and then. As it was, though, she couldn't even bring herself to scowl at the words. Instead, she held his warm stare, trying not to concentrate on the fact that she could feel his body heat permeating his sweater just inches to her left, trying to reign in her spiking pulse. Being beyond hyper-aware of just how close Thomas was, though, it shouldn't have startled Y/N when he knocked his knee into hers. When her eyes refocused, having been lost in thought, she could see in his eyes the pleasure he was taking in how skittish he'd made her.

"Anyway, now that I'm not some cryptic intruder," he started -- he didn't seem to notice that Y/N's focus was still fixed on subduing the heat rising in her neck, "can I buy you that drink?"

—————————

THUS BEGAN THE rest of their night. It was nearly eleven when Dolley texted her from the other side of the room, a frantic plea for forgiveness if she went home with James. (She swore, she hadn't meant to leave Y/N alone on their first night out together -- besides, Y/N seemed to have found a nightcap of her own. Forget a tall drink of water; the stranger in burgundy was a daiquiri and a half -- Dolley's words, not mine.)

And really, Y/N didn't mind. She was more than willing to walk home alone if it meant a night of just a little adventure. She ended up staying at the bar with Thomas until the owner nearly had to throw them out -- and Y/N couldn't blame them. Neither of them had had anything to drink in over an hour, so she supposed that as the clock neared midnight, they really weren't making much of a dent in the profit margin.

But it wasn't her fault, really. No one told her when she'd left her apartment that evening that, for once in her life, the person sending her a drink wouldn't be an incel with a god complex. Quite frankly, not only was that bullet dodged, but Thomas quickly proved to be more than a few inches above the low, low bar she'd set.

The night grew colder outside the windows, but the pair of them were preoccupied, busy inching closer, her hand falling upon his arm when she laughed, his legs brushing against hers as he acted as though he hadn't even noticed. They could both tell her demure front was just for show; her skin burned under his touch, layers of fabric be damned, and his gaze was electric. She'd long since thrown caution to the wind, anyway. Where the night was headed was clear only minutes after he'd sat down beside her; the air between them was charged. Sure, she'd only met him a couple hours prior, but any sort of a spark could certainly make a fire to last at least one night -- and last it did.

However, she didn't expect to have to be the one to push it that far. Brazenness seemed to be Thomas's mode of operation, so she was almost surprised when their being herded out onto the street below didn't immediately end in his hands on her skin, her body pulled flush against him. When they reached the musty alleyway, she was struggling to believe the firebrand of a man who'd bought her a drink hours before had suddenly become so mild in the night air.

But he'd bought her a drink. The ball was in her court.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, shivering, to see Thomas watching her with concern in his eyes. To be candid, she was fine -- winter in D.C. had nothing on the frigid bite of the air in Finland -- but she couldn't pretend how worried he looked wasn't part of what was tempting her to deal with the devil, heavy shadows clinging to his brow.

"I'm alright," she replied quietly, offering him a reassuring smile, but his creased brow didn't part.

"You sure? That coat doesn't look all that heavy."

"Really. I'm okay," she said with a light laugh, though she didn't think how she'd begun sniffling as her nose started to run was helping her case all that much. "I have a short walk home; it's no biggie."

That, however, made his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. "You're walkin' home? Y/N, I dunno how safe that is."

"It's hardly snowing."

"I mean for you to be alone in the city in the middle of the night," he said, pausing as he reached where she stood just before the opening of the alleyway. "Can I call you an Uber?"

She turned her head to find him right by her side, perhaps an inch between the pair, his warm breath tickling her neck as he looked down at her. Her smile was hesitant. "I'm not letting you burn up some fossil fuels for a two block car ride. I can take care of myself."

"How 'bout if I walk you home?" he offered, and she let out a light sigh. "C'mon, leavin' you here alone in the middle of the night doesn't sit right with me. If somethin' happened..."

Though he trailed off, the implication in his words was obvious, and Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that, because a stranger might follow me home, I should let a different stranger follow me home to prevent it?"

When she put it like that, Thomas couldn't help his quiet laugh at the irony of the situation. "Hey, I thought we'd agreed I'm not a stranger anymore," he protested, but Y/N looked him up and down skeptically.

"What, you paid for my drinks and called me pretty, and suddenly we're besties?"

"Now, we both know 'besties' wasn't exactly what I was goin' for," he said matter-of-factly, his smile sharp but playful, and despite how tilted the whole situation felt, she couldn't hold back her chuckle. She rolled her eyes, stuffed her hands in her pockets as she turned back to the well-lit sidewalk before them, the January snow crunching under her boots, but when she met his eyes, Thomas's expression had softened. He rose an inquiring eyebrow, and finally, she sighed.

"Yeah, you walking me home would be nice."

A grin split his light demeanor. "Alright. Lead the way, sweetheart."

"Follow me."

They took a right out of the alleyway, and as traffic continued to roar by beside them, speeding through the night, as the low buzz of the antiquated streetlights permeated the air, they fell into a comfortable silence, never falling out of step with one another. Snow was flecked across both their coats, and shadows were cast across their features, cycling back with each passing lamp.

Y/N hadn't been exaggerating when she deemed it a short walk home; it couldn't have been more than five minutes before they found themselves nearing the front steps of her building, and she looked up at him.

"Hey, thanks for tonight," she said, voice timid, and he turned to her with a wide smile.

"'S been my pleasure," he replied. "Sorry for keepin' you out so long; your roommate must be startin' to wonder."

When Y/N laughed lightly, Thomas raised an eyebrow, apparently not following whatever she'd taken away from his words. "I have a feeling she's a little too preoccupied to be worrying about me right now," she said dryly. She'd been back in town for not 48 hours, and Dolley was already going out on her own -- as supportive as Y/N was, Dolley had a habit of getting too attached too quickly. She was praying James wouldn't end up another regrettable hookup.

However, Thomas couldn't exactly hear her thoughts, something Y/N hadn't considered before tightly grabbing ahold of the rope to her mental tangent -- it was his fault, really. She couldn't be blamed for his lack of talent in mind-reading. But as he continued to watch her expectantly, as she pulled herself back to the present, she finally said, "She's spending the night with someone else tonight. Make of that what you will."

He shook his head in amusement. "Good for her."

"I'm sure her host thinks so."

A moment passed in quiet under the frigid night sky, Y/N hesitant to act but Thomas hesitant to leave. He was the one to break it.

"It was good to meet you, Y/N," he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows. Her window of opportunity was dwindling. "Hope I'll see you--"

"D'you want to come upstairs?" She hadn't meant to cut him off, but the words were spilling from her tongue before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding; she wasn't fond of having to make the risky move, and the tentativeness in his raised eyebrows wasn't helping.

"Seriously?" Oh, God. Was it really such a ridiculous idea that he was struggling to believe she was asking? "I..." Thomas let out a heavy sigh when he trailed off before pursing his lips, tongue in cheek and looking everywhere but at her. "'S temptin', but... I can't do that to you."

Y/N only stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You've been drinkin' all night." His tone left little room for negotiation, but she was on the edge of taking offense. "I know you don’t seem drunk, but if your judgment isn't all the way there, it's not happenin'. G'night, sweetheart."

She was still standing in stunned silence when he turned to walk back the way he came, but when he started retreating in her field of vision, she called after him, "Hang on." To her relief, he looked back at her quizzically, footsteps stalling on the snow-coated sidewalk, and she took a step toward him. "I've been drinking seltzer water and fruit juice all night, Thomas," she said, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "So if you're not interested, you don't need to make excuses, but I'm asking you while perfectly sober."

Her stomach seemed to be trying to turn itself inside-out as she waited anxiously for him to respond; the calculated way he looked her over only exacerbated the feeling. "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

"Next to nothing." The pause between them was heavy, both their minds racing but far from in consensus. "Your move, Thomas."

Not three seconds passed before he was striding toward her decisively, and she inhaled sharply when his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek, thumb sweeping over the expanse of skin. She was flush against his chest, too surprised to even react, her hands resting at his upper chest, and her eyes widened when she felt his cheekbone brush against the crown of her head. He tilted his head down to look at her, his lips hardly a hair away from the top of her ear. She could feel his breath down her neck, setting her nerves alight. "Can I kiss you?"

Her answer was immediate. "Please."

And before she had time to think, his lips were on hers; he was tangling a hand into her hair. He wasted no time in starting to walk her back toward her building, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist as she stumbled backward.

She yelped when her heel hit the bottom step up to her building's door, and she broke the kiss, then clinging to his shoulders in an effort not to fall, struggling to hold her weight on her legs as she lifted one foot onto the first step. Both their chests were heaving, and Thomas wore a wry grin.

"I've been wantin' to do that since I sent you that martini," he murmured, dipping down to kiss along her jawline, and Y/N let out a breathy chuckle.

"So you had to wait, what, three hours?" she retorted, tone dry. "Oh, how you've suffered."

"Had to wait three hours too long," he corrected her, and before she could jab back at him, his mouth again found hers. She moaned against him when he bit down lightly on her bottom lip, responding in kind by rolling her tongue teasingly against his. It was too much and yet still, not enough. His hands were all over her; she couldn't focus on how his body felt pressed into hers as the sensation quickly overwhelmed her, and when his grip on her hip tightened, she gasped into his mouth.

"Thomas, wait, I--" She was cut off before she could get the thought out. "Thom-- Mmh--!" He kissed her ardently, reveling in her response to his touch every bit as much as she was reveling in the feeling of it. Regardless, she pulled back, looking him in the eye, and held him off with a hand on his chest. "Let's go in. I'd rather be somewhere a lot warmer and a little more..." --she traced a finger down the lapel of his designer coat with a sly smile, finally using it to pull him closer-- "...private."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He split from her, tugging her alongside him and up the stairs by her hand, and her eyes widened at his frantic movements. She didn't even flinch at first, stunned by how abrupt the action had been, but when he glanced back over his shoulder at her, her fingers already linked between his, she drew in a shuddering breath.

"Let's go."

From there, their night was a blur of heavy jeans and chunky sweaters being scattered across Y/N's bedroom, their coats discarded and long forgotten not three feet past her apartment door. Whatever gods were above seemed to have smiled on her; she and Dolley both striking it lucky on the same night felt too perfect for it to be coincidental, especially as Y/N's bedroom door slammed loudly behind them, her body pinned against its interior moments later.

Every impatient touch was ablaze, brimming with fireworks and crave as her eager hands found their way up his shirt, his curls bouncing when he pulled it over his head.

It was all reckless, every second of it, but as Y/N saw it, what was the worst that could happen? The occasional uncomfortable run-in with Thomas if they passed on the street? That was beyond worth her evening of adrenaline. She gasped when he pushed her back onto her mattress, climbing on immediately after her.

"Thomas," she moaned, threading her fingers into his curls as his lips worked their way down her neck.

"What is it, sweetheart? Hm?"

She squealed when he nipped at her sensitive skin, nails digging into his upper back, but her tense muscles relaxed as he began sucking a hickey into the same spot a moment later. "I need you. Please."

She could feel his smile against her skin, the vibrations of his light chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He pulled back as the pads of his fingers dug into her hips, and she inhaled sharply. His eyes were shining, predatory and smug. "How could I say no?"

——————

COME THE NEXT morning -- or, really, the next afternoon -- Y/N was grateful to have escaped without a hangover, completely absent a headache, the light of day not even a bother as it glared past her curtains. However, the minute she tried to sit up, she realized that she certainly had a backache, and she wasn't entirely convinced her legs would be willing to work when she tried to stand.

Realization struck her a moment later; she winced as she sat bolt upright, ignoring the ache in her shoulders when she lunged for her phone. Oh, shit.

"Thomas," she hissed, shoving his snoring body through her comforter. "Thomas, wake up."

He sniffed as he shifted in her bed, trying to speak through his heavy yawn. "What's goin' on?"

"What's going on is that it's almost two o'clock." Her scowl was deep-set as she shoved the covers off of herself, paying him little mind as she began to root through her drawers for something to wear. "And you need to go. I have somewhere to be."

It hadn't occurred to her to be self-conscious as she paced through her room, but when she turned back to see Thomas's lazy stare following her still-naked body, she could feel her cheeks flare. "Get dressed."

"Alright, alright," he said, sleep still heavy in his voice as he reached for his phone where he'd discarded it on his long-abandoned jeans. She didn't see it, busy pulling on underwear and yanking on a hoodie over her the heavily-marked skin of her chest. "Fuck. I'm gonna be late."

She rolled her eyes when his own panic was finally what kicked him into gear, as he began shoving his legs back into his pants in a frenzy. "Jesus, do I need to get home," he muttered to himself, unsteadily typing something into his phone with one hand as he struggled to buckle his belt with the other. "Sorry for crashin', I--"

"It's fine; it was late as all hell," Y/N cut him off, too preoccupied to concern herself with what'd happened the night prior. She was clinging to the desperate hope that her laptop might not be dead as she dug through he drawers for its charger. "When you find all your stuff, you can just go."

"Alright. I..." He glanced to her hesitantly, pausing in his quest to put himself back together before he could flee with his dignity and whatever plans he had for that afternoon still intact. She glanced at him inquisitively in his silence. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

She offered him a small smile before he returned to trying to dig up his sweater, completely oblivious to where he could've possibly tossed it. "Let's hope so."

Those were all the words exchanged before she ducked into her bathroom, began running the shower, and wiped her smeared mascara from where it'd been running down her cheeks. Thomas left with no more pomp or circumstance.

She hardly had time to fix her appearance after she showered, doing the bare minimum before she rushed back to check on the charge her laptop had left. 74% would be enough to make it through her first lecture, right? She didn't waste a second on dwelling.

Her first class was, to her dismay, halfway across campus from her apartment. She hardly slipped into the lecture hall in time, the clock striking 2:59 PM as she took a seat toward the back, quietly greeting the person in the seat beside her as they glanced up from their phone. Maybe her rolling up less than sixty seconds before the lecture began wasn't exactly the best first impression for her, coming in as a 2nd semester junior at a new college, but she'd managed to beat Professor Jefferson, so it appeared she was safe.

It was 3:03 when he showed up; Y/N had just finished convincing the fan on her laptop to stop shrieking, had found a pen nestled into the deepest depths of her bag. She was scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter when the back doors of the lecture hall were thrown open one final time. She didn't look up at first, but his voice made her eyes widen.

"Afternoon, everybody. Hope you've all been doin' well through the long winter." His voice was upbeat as he padded down the carpeted steps toward the desk at the front of the room.

Y/N was fairly sure she was going to be sick, and unfortunately, she had no hangover to chalk it up to. Disbelief permeated her every shaky breath, the feeling trounced only by dread. Her throat had gone dry.

"For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Professor Jefferson. I started in the political science department this last fall," he said as he reached the floor, loud voice projected through every corner of the hall, tone joking when he added, "And for anyone who's eventually gonna ask, I promise 'm well aware of how young I am."

When he turned around, Y/N's worst fears were realized -- though, she was certainly surprised at how put-together he looked, having left her apartment just one short hour earlier.

"I've spent the past few years workin' in government, but I'm glad to be back in classrooms, even if I'm on the other side of 'em." He set his briefcase down on his desk, looking the room over as he withdrew his papers, opened his laptop. Y/N was sinking progressively further and further down in her chair. "I trust you've all done the assigned readin'?"

He was met with a scattered chorus of yeses and halfhearted noises of affirmation, and he chuckled. "Well, 'm glad to hear you enjoyed 'em so much."

She wasn't sure whether his words being met with soft laughs dispersed throughout the room was because of the sarcasm sitting heavy in his words, or instead because of how contagious his bright grin was.

"Alright, alright, the enthusiasm'll get there. Feel free to pull up the syllabus on whatever you've got with you, but it'll be projected up here as we go through it." The class sounded slightly more awake by then, and while it surely wasn't everyone, Y/N felt confident enough that a decent fraction of the noise was her classmates murmuring with disbelief about how this was their professor, no doubt interspersed with jokes about suddenly taking an intimate interest in political philosophy, capped off with a wink.

But she was no one to judge. Despite being unsure whether her heart was trying to beat its way through her ribcage or if it'd altogether stopped, when Thomas leaned against the front of the desk, arms folded and ankles crossed, she couldn't bring herself to regret the events of the past sixteen hours -- were she given a chance to turn back time, it was a mistake she'd readily make again.

"I'll take any questions as we go on through it," he continued, but that time, as he scanned the crowd, Y/N's luck seemed to have run out. However, though she'd been given the luxury of a gradual realisation, the inevitable punch in the gut of recognition hit him all at once. His eyes locked onto hers, immediately going wide, his expression dropping to one of alarm, and she held his gaze warily.

His silence was a fraction of a second too long, long enough to raise questions, before his self-awareness kicked in, and he picked his jaw up off the floor. The smile he plastered on was riddled with unease. "Hope everything in the course description was clear. I have no doubt this'll be an... excitin' semester."

He played off his shock easily, falling back into his upbeat persona, but as he went on, Y/N felt lucky she'd already read the syllabus — she didn't process a single word out of his mouth. The class was three hours long, and only five minutes into the first day, she’d apparently already slept with her professor.

If this was the semester she had ahead of her, then, well... 'exciting' was certainly a word for it.

[kaeyas-wifehusband]

Bloom: A Taang oneshot.

Summary: Aang and Toph have always had a special connection. He knew there was something different about her from the moment they met years ago at the underground arena. As time passes, platonic feelings begin to morph into something more. (Quick note: There is a hint of the Kummi/Taang in here if you squint lol. Hope y’all enjoy!)

To say Toph’s parents weren’t fond of Aang would be an understatement.

And a huge one, at that.

To them, he would always be the bad boy (the first time they referred to him as that, Toph nearly choked on her breakfast from laughing) who manipulated their sweet, frail daughter into running away with him and his trouble-making friends. Never mind the fact that she proved she wasn’t the defenseless child they claimed her to be. Never mind that she willingly went along. Never mind that she didn’t do it just for Aang, but also because it was the only chance she had to be free. 

Spirits knew how long it took her to convince them that, no, he wasn’t a negative influence (if anything, it was her); yes, she can take care of herself. They never entirely warmed up to him. However, they did allow him to visit. That was good enough for Toph. Besides, it was probably the best she’d get out of them. Sure, she had to bribe threaten reassure the family guards that they didn’t need to follow her and Aang around when hanging out. That was simple to accomplish, luckily. 

And so, years passed. 

They formed memories with one another. The rest of the Gaang were involved, of course, with some of them. Toph noticed something, though. Aang would still seek her out personally in those times. During group meals or bonfires, where she went to sit down, he’d follow. Whenever they all laughed, his head would tilt in her direction. His fingers would sometimes graze, linger, upon hers when they walked together. All of it became more intentional to her as time went on. It became more common. 

He wasn’t good at being subtle. She knew this. It didn’t bother her. Because, maybe, she was beginning to feel the same way.

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

At first, when Aang spent time at the Bei Fong residence, he was tense. Her parents clearly did not like him and were probably only allowing his presence because a certain daughter of theirs bribed threatened reassured them until they gave in. Creating discomfort was something he loathed. For Toph, however, it was worth it. Plus, she was quick to deal with the overprotective watchmen that would trail them wherever they went, even if it was just in her backyard. That most definitely made things easier. 

Numberless, unforgettable moments were made between them. 

The ones that he held close to were the ones that were small. They were personal. He thought of how she’d clutch his arm, not the railing, when crossing the wooden bridge near her home. He thought of how her witty remarks started to feel more flirtatious. He thought of how she’d consistently ask for stories of his childhood among the Air Nomads; how, when he complied (and he always did), she’d find some excuse to lean against him. (“I’m tired.” “I can hear you better this way.” “Shut up about it.”)

And it was all fine.

Beyond fine, actually. 

It wasn’t until he started craving those instances more and more that he realized he liked her. Finding reasons to visit became all too easy. (“There’s a new restaurant in town.” “I could brush up on my earthbending.” “There’s a spot that I just have to show you.”)

The answer was never less than an “Okay” and usually a “Sounds great. Let’s go.”

Definitely, the greatest giveaway that none of this was one-sided was what happened one summer night. 

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

They were in the Bei Fong garden, strolling among the rose bushes. They talked of nothing, everything, and all that was in between. Stars glistened amongst the cloudless velvet sky and the moon was full, luminous. While she couldn’t see any of it, he hoped that she could feel it’s intoxicating serenity. The calmness it radiated made the atmosphere feel otherworldly. Eventually, they found a marble bench to rest on. The smallness of it meant their bodies were practically pressed against one another. It wasn’t awkward. 

As they engaged in small talk, Aang plucked a few flowers and started weaving them together. Toph didn’t initially pick up on this, but the constant moving of his arm against hers, as well as the sound of shuffling, spiked her curiosity. She gently pressed her fingers against his.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh! Making a flower crown,” he stopped twiddling and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I guess I should have asked if it was okay.”

She shrugged and removed her hand. “I was just curious. Doesn’t matter to me. They’ll grow back anyway.”

He grinned and went back to work. Minutes went by, silence reigned. Not the slightest hint of discomfort was sensed. 

“Ta da!” He held the handmade accessory in the air with pride. “Finished! And in record time, too.” 

Toph smirked and traced her fingertips against it. The woven intricacy of it felt high quality. He’s done this multiple times before and it showed. 

“Nice job, Twinkle Toes. Maybe you should quit the Avatar stuff and start a business.” she teased. 

“Believe me,” he said as he studied the freshly made creation. “If I could bring myself to do that, I would.” A sigh left him. “But I know what I’m needed for.”

She hummed in acknowledgement. “All this hero duty starting to get to you?”

“Starting to? It always has been,” He flicked a few stray strands of grass and stem off his lap. “I never wanted any of this. Being the grand savior of the universe sounds fun until you realize how much you lose because of it.” 

“Well,” she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Find a way to cope.” It was a lousy attempt at comfort. To anyone else, it may have been offensive. Not to him though.

He chuckled softly. “I already did.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled while placing the flower crown on her head. “It’s you,” There was no regret for his words, which mildly surprised him. All of it was true. “I just...I don’t know.  Spending time with you allows me to temporarily forget that I’m the Avatar. You make me feel like an equal,” He pulled an uneven, wilting petal. “You never saw me for less or more than I am.

Because of you, I’ve been allowed to grow, without necessarily growing up. Does that make sense?”

A snicker escaped her. “No. But then again, you rarely do.” 

She lifted both her hands to his face, her fingers gently trailing his features. 

This has happened before. In fact, it’s happened multiple times. These sort of moments wouldn’t last long and would usually end with her squishing his cheeks or booping his nose, a “You’re a dork” following.  It wouldn’t be such a big deal except that she never did this with anyone else. He wasn’t dumb, though she’d would probably say otherwise. She didn’t need to do this to “see” him.  Her feet and ears handled that well enough. Being careful, intentional yet tender, he placed his forehead against hers.

“What are you doing?” he said in a whisper so quiet that it’d only be audible to her. He smiled when she blushed. 

“Nothing. Why? What’s it to ya, Twinkle Toes?”

“I mean, I don’t mind. Just curious because you’ve done this before soooo...” There was a playful, teasing tone in his voice. 

Mildly annoyed, she freed a hand to lift one of his against the right side of her face. “There. Now we’re even.” 

His breath hitched and she noticed his heartrate spike. She hardly tried to stop her mouth from forming a smirk. “Aw, does that bother you?”

He swallowed, calming a bit, but not entirely. “No. N-not really.” he mumbled.  It was the truth. She didn’t need to focus on his heart’s pace to know that. 

Aang exhaled and closed his eyes. Everything became still. Aside from the crickets chirping, and the occasional stray dog barking from far off, all was peaceful. This was how he often felt with her. It was always like this when they were together. In a way that he could not yet explain, he felt a comfort with Toph that he never felt with anyone else, not even with Katara. A note of courage suddenly filled within him and swelled. He had to ask now before it disappeared. 

“Can I kiss you?”  

If Sokka was there, he’d surely facepalm. Most people don’t like being asked to be kissed. They just want it to happen, at least according to him. Toph wasn’t like most people, though. On a level that was beyond what he could fully understand, they were connected.  Perhaps all lovers felt that way. Although, even when their bond was solely platonic, he still thought that she was like no other. (“Not like her.”)

He prayed silently. He wished not that she wouldn’t say no, but that if she did, nothing would change between them. Another pang of quietness passed. He felt the confidence in him start to deflate. 

Then, suddenly, a swipe across his lower lip and a “Yes” evaporated any worries or doubts. He didn’t hesitate pressing his mouth against hers. 

Aang knew what first kisses were supposed to be like. Poets and singers described them as a powerful, electrifying force. (“Kissing him feels like fireworks.” Katara once said regarding Zuko). Yet none of that could accurately evoke what he experienced in that moment. In her affection, he noticed a sliver of familiarity that he could not quite comprehend. There was warmth, a sensation of relief. It felt grounding. It felt like home.  

When they parted, it was sobering; like waking from a long slumber to crisp morning air. 

“Oh, by the way,” Toph then gave his shoulder a swift punch. 

“Ow! Hey!”

“That’s for being a total sap.” 

[bernadineisreborn]

Can you write a scene where Draco kisses readers forehead while they’re still friends before they date but she almost died or somethin cuz forehead kisses be underrated 👀

a/n: hehehe okayyyyy!! this is a cute request. a nice, fluffy drabble follows. 

warnings: not edited very well, hallucinations, slight mention of blood, one (1) swear word, hospital wing visit, death omen from trelawney, sort of dark mention of being forced to become a death eater (it’s light-hearted i promise)

word count: 2010 [technically longer than drabble-length fight me]

As a witch, you know of at least 1,000 ways you could die accidentally, by cause of your own magic or attempts at magic. That’s how Luna Lovegood’s mother had died, you’d heard. Experimenting with spells. Curiosity was not always a good thing in the Wizarding World, especially if you were known to have occasional bouts of extreme clumsiness. Which, of course, you were.

One particular Monday, you were sitting quietly in Divination. Class hadn’t started yet. Professor Trelawney hadn’t even made her usual grand entrance. You laid your books neatly in front of you.

Not two minutes later, she swooped in. Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting next to you, rolled her eyes at the crystal ball on the velvet-clothed table in front of her. Trelawney stopped suddenly, and spun very importantly towards you and Pansy. Her brows were pulled tight against her eyelids, which were open wide.

“You, dear,” she pointed to you, “You have something very dangerous in your future.”

You gaped, unsure what to say. It wasn’t unlike Trelawney to tell a random student that they had a death omen, or something of the sort, but it wasn’t very calming to be the student she chose.

Pansy scoffed, “Yeah? What’s that?”

Trelawney’s glazed eyes turned to your friend, “She must be careful! There is something dark indeed! A mysterious outcome, yes, could go either way…” she trailed off.

You still hadn’t said anything, but a chill found the back of your neck and you shuddered involuntarily.

“Ah, yes, even she can see the danger! Tell me, dear, have you seen any omens lately? Any signs in tea leaves? Perhaps three caws of a crow?”

You shook your head, and Pansy spoke up again, “I saw her tea leaves this morning, Professor. Perfectly ordinary,” her glare shifted into more of a smirk, “Maybe your message was meant for Blaise, he seems like he needs a bit of bad luck. Far too cocky, lately.”

“Says you, Parkinson,” snorted Blaise.

With that, Trelawney’s attention was officially elsewhere as she began another ominous lecture. Pansy’s eyes met yours, “Everyone knows she’s a crackpot, don’t worry about it,” she reassured you.

You nodded, “Yeah. You’re right.” You steeled your expression and began your notes.

----

You stepped into Herbology later that day, Trelawney’s prediction having left a seemingly permanent shiver in your spine.

You had skipped lunch in order to work on a few essays, and were munching on some berries.

The Herbology room was one of your favorite classrooms. The greenery was an aesthetic, the plants were fascinating to watch, and the clean air was intoxicating.

You were alone with the plants, and you admired them in silence. After a few minutes of watching the Chinese Chomping Cabbage bite at the air, your eyes were drawn to a rather large pot of Belladonna. You wandered over to it, and picked some of the berries to use in Potions.

A few minutes later, Draco waltzed in. His expression, as usual, looked a bit distasteful, until he made eye contact with you. His expression morphed into the tiniest of smiles. “Hello, Y/N.”

Draco’s family had been friends with yours since before either of you were born, as it was with many pureblood families. You’d fought a lot when you were younger, but as time went on, both of you seemed to realize you were allied on more fronts than not.

“Draco,” you greeted, “How are you, today?”

“I’m alright. Though, I heard you were the lucky student marked for doom today.” His smile turned into concern.

You gave another shiver, “Well, yes, there’s that. Otherwise fine though,” you tried to smile in a convincing manner, but you could only manage a grimace. You popped a berry into your mouth, finding comfort in the sweet taste.

Draco pursed his lips, “Y/N, I’m sure that—”

You stopped listening, because suddenly, the berry in your mouth was rather spicy, not sweet. You looked down, and in your hand were the dark purple berries of the Belladonna. Your blueberries were still sitting on the table with your books.

You looked back up to Draco. He was looking at you, making no attempts to hide the concern written all over his pale face. “… Y/N?… Y/N?”

You coughed as the berry burned your throat. “Erm, Draco?” He was becoming fuzzy around the edges and his hair was looking yellowish, almost neon. You reminded yourself of the effects of Belladonna berries: hallucinations, delirium. You blinked, and coughed again. You meant to tell him what you’d accidentally done, what your attempts at gathering supplies for Potions had amounted to. But all you could say was, “You’re a lemon.”

Draco stared, uncomprehending, very, very confused. His eyes raked over you, standing very still, eating berries. “What in Merlin’s name do you mean, ‘I’m a lemon’?”

You stumbled a bit as you walked toward him. His immediate thought was: she’s drunk some firewhiskey. But, you wouldn’t do that. You were a good, focused student.

You reached him and pulled your hand up, tangling your fingers in his lemony hair. Draco blushed and tried to step away, but you were insistent. “When did you turn into a lemon?”

“Y/N? What are you on about?” Draco grabbed the hand that was not in his hair, in an attempt to get your attention. A few dark purple berries fell into his hand, squishing into juice in his palm. They smelled weird. He eyed them cautiously, “What are you eating?”

You pulled away when you saw Draco bring the berries to his face to smell them. Even in your current state, you knew this was bad. Or, maybe, the berries just told you it was bad. Because suddenly, they had little, angry faces and they were yelling at you.

“Don’t let him eat us, you ignorant, stupid girl!” screamed the one in the front.

You stumbled again, “No, Draco, don’t.” you slurred, “These are not good for eating,” you offered him some blueberries from your bag on the table, “Here take these, instead.”

“What do you mean?” Draco felt the blood drain from his face as he realized what was going on, “What kind of berries are these?”

You said nothing, but your eyes lingered to a pot across the room, where you had been standing when Draco first entered. Belladonna.

“Y/N,” he said, his eyes growing very stern, “Please tell me that you didn’t eat Belladonna berries.”

You giggled, “I wasn’t supposed to.”

Draco held his arm out for you to balance on, which you took gratefully. You were so grateful, in fact, that you started hugging him and didn’t let go. “For fuck’s sake, no, you were not supposed to.” He started leading the pair of you out of the room and towards the Hospital Wing.

“You’re so nice, Draco, the berries are happy you didn’t eat them. They—” You stopped speaking, staring over Draco’s shoulder, “Draco, why aren’t you real?”

Draco followed your gaze: nothing was there, “Darling, what do you mean? I’m right here. Merlin, just come with me, already.”

You met his eyes, finally, “Nope, I know you’re not real. Draco isn’t this nice to stupid people.” You pulled away from him and started swatting at your arm.

Draco was exasperated, “Y/N, you’re not stupid. Usually. You just—” his eyes shifted to your arm, which you were still hitting lightly, “What are you doing?”

“There’s a tentacle in my arm,” you explained, as though it made all the sense in the world.

Draco took your tentacle arm and pulled you along.

“Where are we going?” you asked, “And who is that man?”

Draco followed your gaze again, but there was no man.

“Oh, maybe you are real, you’re acting like normal again. You know, ignoring me.” You sighed, “How come you never ignore Pansy? It’s because she’s prettier than me, isn’t it? Oh good, there she is,” You started talking to someone to your left, but again, there was no one there. “Pansy, I think Draco might be in love with you. It would make sense, you know. Everyone’s been saying that you’re dating.”

Draco rolled his eyes at this comment, but said nothing and continued walking.

You giggled, and shushed the imaginary Pansy, “No, no! Don’t tell him, don’t you dare!”

Though he was more than mildly concerned, he was also interested in something you might be keeping secret from him, “Don’t tell me what?” he asked, glancing at you with a glimmer of mischief hidden in his scowl.

You turned your chin up, “Pansy won’t tell.”

Draco laughed in spite of himself, “I’d reckon I’ll never know from her, then.” You walked in silence for a few moments, “Maybe you ought to tell me.”

Your eyes widened, “No. She’d be very cross with me.”

“Why does Pansy care? I thought it was your secret.”

You frowned at him as though he was the one making no sense, “It’s my secret. But the other me would be mad if I told you.”

Draco couldn’t help laughing again, “The other you? And where is she?”

You tapped your forehead smartly, “Right in here.”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh, obviously.”

By now, you had reached the Hospital Wing. Draco led you to Madame Pomfrey. “She’s eaten some berries from a Belladonna plant,” he explained, gesturing to you, still clinging to his arm. “I’m not sure—”

Just then, you began screaming a very loud, very upsetting scream.

Madame Pomfrey moved swiftly into action.

You were hyperventilating, your breath escaping you in forced pants, “No! No! Go away! You can’t make me! I won’t join you!” You met Draco’s eyes, “Draco! Help! They can’t make me, please!” you sobbed.

Draco’s earlier feelings of worry returned. He had been about to tell Madame Pomfrey that he didn’t think you’d gotten too much of the berry, because you seemed relatively mellow. Now, that assessment was clearly overruled.

You began clawing at your arms again, drawing blood this time.

“Malfoy!” snapped Madame Pomfrey, “Help me restrain her.”

Draco held you down on one of the Hospital Wing cots as you kicked and screamed. His heart ached for you, having a pretty good idea what you were hallucinating now without having to ask. After all, didn’t the same fear plague his nightmares?

Madame Pomfrey finished tying you down, and forced some Calming Draught down your throat during a particularly drawn out scream. You gurgled it down, and slowly stopped thrashing. Next, she administered the antidote to the Belladonna.

“How did this happen, Malfoy?” she asked. Draco was in stunned silence as he watched you. “Malfoy!”

Draco’s eyes snapped to hers, “Erm, I think she picked some and thought she was eating her blueberries from lunch.”

Madame Pomfrey huffed. After a few minutes she said, “Well, she’ll be fine. She’s going to have a headache. Get back to class.”

Draco didn’t move.

Madame Pomfrey sighed, “Fine. You can stay until she wakes up. But you’re not sleeping here!” With that, she walked away, probably going to help some other unfortunate student.

Draco sat next to you. Your face, finally, was serene, but you were paler than normal. After a moment, your eyebrows creased, and you hummed. Draco reached for your hand, and gripped it lightly.

He brought your hand to his face and kissed it lightly. He frowned, there was still a crease in between your eyebrows. He moved to the spot on your forehead and kissed lightly there, too.

“Malfoy!” scolded Madame Pomfrey from across the room.

Draco blushed. You blinked awake, sleep and haze still clouding your eyes, “Draco, did you just kiss me?”

His blush deepened, “Only because you looked so pathetic.”

You laughed, his hair was still a shade of neon yellow, though it was fading. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tell him your secret, after all.

You closed your eyes again, “I’m pathetic? At least my hair isn’t that ridiculous shade of yellow.”

He huffed.

You giggled and squinted an eye open at him. “Goodnight, lemon.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[asgardianthot]

Flesh And Bones - Part 4

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

words: 2641

A/N: sliight warning for self-harm but like, the tiniest warning. Our dumb-dumbs are fine:)

Sam’s body healed faster than expected, but lacking the super-healing factor some of his teammates were blessed with, he was stuck at the tower for over a week. Bucky had chosen to ignore the common spaces at the tower as much as possible, since Sam spent way too much time over there and he didn’t want to run into the six feet of unspoken truth. His nervousness skyrocketed whenever he saw Sam, and the feeling of horror increased with the passing of every minute of the day. Eventually, he would have to come clean. Just not yet.

Laying on his bed and watching garbage television, he sensed a presence staring at him. When he turned to check his open door, Steve had planted himself right outside.

“I’m off to a meeting.” He told Bucky instead of a proper greeting, “Wanna come with me?”

He was all suited up in Captain American gear, which Bucky had grown sort of used to. However it never ceased to amuse him how he never put on a goddamn tux to go to the office like normal people. After scanning the serious blonde man, Barnes tuned back into whatever the TV was broadcasting, although not paying real attention to it.

“Maybe next time.” He said with a warm tone.

There was a hearable sigh, maybe a little too forced, and Barnes had to return his attention to his friend. He had a feeling he was about to get a good ol’ Mr. Righteous lecture.

“Listen, Buck…” Steve started, yet never stepping into the room in order to not invade his privacy, “I need to talk to you. About the other night.”

Bucky simply sat up straighter on his bed and gave Rogers a tiny grin.

“Are you reading too much into something again?” he teased, trying to sound convincing.

Steve had found him out of breath from the pain, on the kitchen floor, and somehow had foreseen that Sam was currently in danger. If it didn’t startle Steve in the slightest, he would have been a terrible agent. Yet when it came to his best friend from childhood, he held an invincible trust towards him; so he wanted to find an explanation, and he wanted to give Bucky the opportunity to give him one, because if there was one thing he was sure about was that something weird was going on.

Therefore, Bucky’s aloofness was met by the infamous Rogers face of disappointment.

“Can we talk?” he tilted his head. “On the way there?”

Bucky kept trying to keep his composure as he lied to his best friend.

He shrugged, “I don’t feel like talking about food intoxication on a way to a meeting I’m not needed at.”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“I don’t work enough. Noted.” Bucky rolled his eyes, already knowing what would come next, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for that lecture, “Goodbye, Steve.”

After a few seconds of silence, Rogers gave up. He pursed his lips and straightened his back, dropping most of his affection and letting seriousness take the wheel.

“Fine, don’t come.” He let out, mildly upset, “But can we talk? Later?”

Barnes didn’t reply, and that was enough of a reply. Met by silence, the Captain nodded and turned on his heels to walk away. He had places to be, but nothing could remove the cloud above his head telling him Bucky was keeping important information to himself. He knew when Buck wasn’t alright, which only raised his suspicions even more. Silence.

-

The former spy had set something short of a routine: he would avoid everyone during the day, barely socialize in order to get lunch or breakfast, and at night, he would stay up late, go to the training room and at some point he would eat. Stepping into the kitchen at a time when everyone else were probably asleep, he headed for the fridge to get his usual night snack.

As he grabbed a glass from the top shelf and filled it with water, his mind was all over the place; he thought about Sam and how perhaps he should have been more present towards his healing process. He thought about how his bones didn’t hurt anymore, so hopefully Sam’s didn’t either. He wondered if he could have been of use, but the idea of being near the man when he knew what he knew made his stomach churn.

Lost in his laments, he was less than careless and knocked over the glass of water, which shattered all over the floor. Thankfully, no one would hear the blaring sound from their rooms, but he feared he had another problem when he realized he had stepped on a piece of glass. There was an acute but small ache in his sole, which meant there was an acute but small ache in Sam’s foot as well.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He cursed under his breath as he frantically looked for something to clean it up.

Blood tainted the low puddle of water on the tiles. If someone linked the broken glass to Bucky, there was an even bigger chance of Sam linking all the dots together. He bent down to get all the pieces together and get rid of the evidence while his chest filled with panic. It was just a small cut, the tiniest glass stuck into his foot, how could something so insignificant mean so much?

Bucky’s throat stung with tears. He was unable to battle his own need to cry, but after a whole five seconds of gasping for air, he stopped himself. He pressed his lips together and cleaned the wet cheek and eyes, before resuming his task with a deep breath.

Sam wouldn’t find out about the glass; he had actually slept through the incident for the sting wasn’t bad enough to wake him. However Barnes didn’t know that. Which was the reason why his heavy feelings made him go extra hard training that night.

He punched the bag as hard as his worries fueled him, and he sweated, and he frowned, and he pushed himself to the limit without taking notice of it, and eventually, he pushed his flesh hand as far as he pushed his metal one.

And he cracked his wrist.

Sam jolted awake with a piercing pain on his right wrist and hand. He massaged it for a minute as the sleep left his eyes, and then he walked to his bathroom in order to run cold water over the injury. Hopefully, that would ease the pain. Or hopefully, his soulmate would stop doing whatever was putting them in pain’s way so often.

-

Sam wasn’t like Bucky when it came to the common room; the veteran showed up there very often, and he never avoided Barnes. Especially now that he had been prevented from going to missions and was discharged from meetings for a week, he looked forward to getting some company. Bucky was always at the tower.

But through Sam’s recovery, the soldier was nowhere to be seen. Now that he was mostly cured, Bucky was still very reserved, and if Sam had been able to admit it to himself, he would have said that it made him sad not to see him on schedule for their routine mockery.

The morning after his wrist woke him up, though, instead of cheerily entering the room, he stormed in. Natasha and Steve were sitting at the coffee table, drinking from colorful mugs when the scene broke down.

"Okay.” Sam said loudly, “I don't know who my soulmate is but-"

Natasha almost choked on her drink, "Sorry, your what?"

She opened her eyes wide, placing the mug down. She looked for answers in Steve’s face, who shrugged it off like she should have been aware of this new information.

“Yeah, we talked about this, catch up." Rogers made a gesture for Sam to continue.

Romanoff simply raised her eyebrow and accommodated to the conversation as Wilson took a deep breath and completed his sentence.

"-but I hate this!” he took out his anger on stern hand gestures and a ranting-appropriate tone, “They're dumb. They get hurt, like, all the time."

The redhead gave him a sympathetic look, but behind it, she was doing a true effort to hold back her laughter. On his part, Steve was actually happy for his friend, and after being informed of every small injury that Sam had felt, he could only smile and hear him protest.

"What was it now?" he asked, almost like a proud parent.

"My hand, they wrecked it!" Sam lifted the hand in question.

Natasha frowned, "Wait, so... are they close?"

"It hurt like hell, so I bet they gotta be!" Wilson placed his left hand on his hip and looked away in exasperation.

"How close?" Steve asked.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know..."

It was at that very exact and precious moment that a new arrival interrupted the scene.

Bucky walked in and didn’t make eye contact with any of them, even though all three’s eyes darted towards him. Especially, towards the white colored fabric on Bucky’s hand. It seemed like Steve, Natasha and Sam all squinted at the same time trying to decipher what their eyes couldn’t help but link: on Bucky’s wrist was a set of bandages.

Suddenly, the room went impossibly quieter. Not even a hitch of breath was heard, which made Bucky a little uncomfortable, and realize he was being observed. He stopped on his tracks and tried to non-suspiciously hide the bandages, but it was of no use. Concealing it wasn’t an option anymore.

Sam’s eyes went wide as the thought hit him. Meanwhile, the other two spectators were already running full equations in their heads, for they did not believing their eyes. Bucky’s eyes met Sam’s, and the feeling of being judged and exposed by Sam’s dilated pupils caused him to slide his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie.

"Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me." Sam finally let out.

All that Barnes did was swallow hard.

"You?" Sam practically barked.

He seemed so bothered at the idea of being Bucky’s soulmate that the latter had to try and deny it. The brunette blinked fast.

"I don't-" he stopped and cleared his throat, "The hell you talking about?"

Wilson pointed a finger to the pocket where the bandaged hand was hiding, "That, I felt it."

After receiving no reply nor reaction whatsoever, Sam began getting a picture of the situation; he stood there frozen and found himself even a little offended.

"You knew?"

Bucky shook his head, then stepped back, "I-"

"Bucky." Steve’s voice broke the interaction, trying to get him to not be a dick and offer Sam an explanation.

The ex-assassin rejected the possibility. If he could convince them that it wasn’t happening, perhaps he could pretend that it wasn’t happening for a few more days. He took a breath and put on a straight face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He simply stated.

It came to Wilson’s attention that the man in front of him was employing the same kind of uninterested, and therefore condescending tone he used when they had discussed the topic of soulmates. It felt like he was being played.

"What? You're saying you didn't break your hand last night?” Sam began attacking Barnes more firmly, now fully angry at the situation, “’Cause I've been feeling your hands."

He meant both the torn wrist and the aching knuckles. Now it made sense. Now he figured out that Bucky trained at night, which is why he never joined him or Steve at their workouts.

"Wilson.” Bucky lowered his chin as if attempting to be convincing. “Stop it, you're wrong."

"Am I, now?"

Barnes took a look around and found every stare burning a hole on his head. He was beginning to think there was no escaping the truth.

"Yeah, man, leave me alone.” He insisted, “It's all in your head."

Sam raised his eyebrows, far beyond the question if he was feeling offended or not.

"Now I'm crazy."

"Yeah, I know you're obsessed with soulmates or whatever.” As soon as the harsh defense came out of Bucky’s mouth, he reflected on taking it back, but he reckoned he was in too deep now, “But I ain't it." He assured the man.

That was the bottom line of Samuel Wilson’s patience. It was bad enough that he felt stupid for not knowing his soulmate was right there all along, but to top it with the fact he hadn’t told him and had kept the secret for God know how long, and now he was denying it to his face, that had Sam feeling more than upset. He felt betrayed. He felt like he hadn’t received his opportunity of processing it, nor the option of denial. Instead, he had to deal with the realization and with the idiot in front of him.

Snapping, the veteran walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer from the inside. Everyone in the room watched as they thought he would leave and drink his anger away, but instead he held the bottle, held a defiant eye contact with his recently-found soulmate, and broke glass item against the counter.

The shattering sound was even rougher than the one Bucky’s glass of water had made last night, and it provoked all three spectators to jump in shock.

“What-?” Natasha let out in concern.

Before they knew it, Wilson was holding a piece of broken glass on top of his extended palm, threatening to cut his own flesh. He had seen a desperate soul at the park where he jogged pull a stunt like that one before, hoping to find their true love that way. Sam had thought that stranger was impulsive and deranged, and now he was doing the exact same thing. he was staring right into the face of his soulmate, and still, he was a desperate soul.

"Sam-" Bucky started as he feared for Sam’s next step.

"You're telling me you won't feel this?” Wilson tried to get under his skin, make him react, “I do this, you won't feel it?"

Before he could even think about slicing his palm open with the sharp item, Steve rushed and took it away from his friend.

"Sam, calm down." He begged him, dropping the glass to the floor.

Yet Sam didn’t pay attention to Steve, "No, tell me!" He stretched his neck to still see Bucky past Steve’s intercepting body.

"Shut up." Bucky mumbled, looking away.

There was no way for him to process the petrifying event taking place outside the kitchen area. He couldn’t say it out loud, he couldn’t say he was sorry for lying, he couldn’t even deny their reality anymore.

"How long have you known?" Wilson continued, less frantic this time, but Rogers still stood in front of him and stopped him from doing anything stupid.

Bucky clenched his jaw, “Stop it.” He said just as low as his last line.

“How long, Barnes?”

"Shut up!" He finally shouted, coated in such despair that his voice came out with every bit of emotion he had been holding back.

The room went absolutely quiet after that. Steve moved out of the way in order to face Bucky, but also since Sam had frozen his body after that scream, and there was no use of a bodyguard anymore. With everyone expecting to hear Bucky’s next words, including himself, he cleared his mind and spoke from the heart.

"I know since your mission." He confessed before walking away and disappearing into the hallway.

Somehow, the most appalled person in the room was Natasha; while the two men stared at the floor in defeat, Romanoff looked like she had just witnessed an episode of a television drama in real life.

[jungcock]

ride or die (m.)

part of the bts road trip au collab

Jungkook was a terrible boyfriend, always abandoning you on the side of the road midst your many road trips. Thankfully, you had Namjoon to come pick you up every time he did and it was about time you reward him for it.

→ pairing: reader x namjoon (feat. jungkook)

→ word count: 6.9k

→ genre: childhood friends au, smut, angst

→ warnings & a/n: drug abuse, infidelity, daddy kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk. contains very dark themes, please read with caution.

You had no idea where you were. You hardly ever did, but it always began like this; crouched in a phone booth you were sure no one had used in decades. It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself in this sort of situation, stranded in a desolate town, miles away from home.

A rebel without a cause, he would call you. However you knew you didn't match the James Dean aesthetic and it made you feel pathetic more than anything. You would never live up to such a statement or feel as complimented or honoured as he believed his comparison deemed.

You were going to call him. You always did, despite the initial hesitance. Deep down, you knew you weren't fair to him. You knew you were using him. But what other choice did you have when your drug fucked boyfriend would insist on adventure, taking you on these road trips and then forgetting you in his high.

He always understood. It eased your mind and made you trust him and you didn't just trust anyone. That wave of relief when you'd hear his deep voice mumble words of reassurance, informing you he was on his way, was euphoric to your intoxicated state. You craved it every time. It was almost as addicting as the drugs, your toxic relationship and your need for thrill.

Staring at your lit up screen, you found his number and dialed.

“____?” He answered within the first few rings.

“Joonie,” you croaked.

He sighed. “Where are you?”

“Two towns further from the last time,” you managed to explain, smacking your lips together from the dry mouth.

“____, that's at least three hours away!”

He was shuffling around, you could hear it through the phone as soft crackling noises.

“I know.”

He sighed again and you heard his keys rattling.

“Are you coming?” You asked, however you really didn't need to.

“Stay where you are.”

*

Waiting for Namjoon felt like an eternity. You tortured yourself, watching every car zoom past you. Little lost girl on the side of the road. It was always within the first hour your high morphed into paranoia. Everyone was looking, judging, pitying you and you loathed the irrational feeling.

It was around the second hour you began hoping Jungkook would come back for you. You knew he wouldn't but you couldn't help but wish. It was beyond fucked up but you'd never give up on him. Forgiving his unacceptable “I'm sorry babe, I was so fucked,” every time, proved how deeply codependent you were. He had your entire heart. He owned you and you let him.

The third hour the sun began to set and you could spot Namjoon’s truck emerging from the orange and yellow horizon. Rising from your haunches, you had to shield your eyes from the vibrant descending sun. The relief overwhelmed you, your heart swelled for him and you hadn't even seen his face yet. You hopped into the passenger's seat and he didn't even look at you, turning the car around.

"Thank you," you mumbled to him.

He grumbled deeply, more so in acknowledgment rather than complaint. He was stiff and still refused to spare you a glance. However you stared him down, drinking in his movements or lack thereof, unafraid and unwaveringly appreciative.

"You're fucked," he stated, his voice deep and stern.

He didn't need to look at you to know for sure.

You snickered darkly, "When am I not?"

Your self-loathing was rooted deep. Namjoon knew that and he used it to hurt you when you did this to him. And you just sat there, taking it because receiving a little sass from Namjoon was much easier than facing your problems. You'd let him lecture you all day and night if it meant he'd come for you every time you asked - which was unofficially the deal.

"This is the third time this week, ____. It's not healthy."

He was talking about the drugs and the stunts you pulled with Jungkook that would lead you here, in Namjoon's truck that drove the how many hours it took so you were back in your own bed. Little did he know, it was many more than three times this week. You would never tell him about the days spent in Jungkook's apartment, blazed on the couch, raiding his fridge and the hours upon hours of lazy fucking. Despite him being your best friend since birth, you couldn't bare the thought of him knowing how disgusting you truly were, or how you felt you were.

"I know," you grumbled, leaning your head against the window.

Only then did he take his eyes off the road, softening at your little body curled up in your seat. He reached over to push your hair out of your face. You were shaking, the come down not treating you kindly.

"____!" Namjoon snapped at you when you seemed unresponsive.

"Joonie!" You replied with a giggle, eyes sunken and body mildly convulsing.

His jaw clenched at the sight of your smiling face juxtaposed with your rundown state and his attention returned to the road. He'd never get used to seeing you like this. It made his heart ache. Over the years since you had met Jungkook, your eyes had gotten darker and your limbs skinnier. He would have sworn you were withering away into nothing if he didn't touch you every now and then, a delicate caress of your matted hair, a light poke to your protruding rib cage, just to ensure you were still living and breathing. He begged and cried for the glowing girl he'd tuck under his arm in high school, for the chubby but happy girl he teased in middle school and for the kind outspoken girl he'd play with in primary school. Those memories of you is what he held onto, why he stuck around and let you control his life. You had a whole 22 years together and he couldn't just let that go.

An hour went by, Namjoon half concentrating on the road and the other half on your breathing. He was still letting his mind run wild with memories. Your first day of school together. The bike rides to convenience stores where you’d both spend most of your pocket money on lollipops and gum. The couple of years through middle school when you were neighbours. Your first boyfriend. His first girlfriend. The terrible double date that got you both dumped. The many summers spent in his treehouse, in your pool and then that particular summer-

"Do you remember that summer our parents took us camping?" You asked him, reciting his thoughts through clattering teeth.

He nodded meekly, he hated the way you could always read his mind.

"Our mothers insisted on hiring a caravan for all of us. It was so over crowded and hot and all we did was fight and scream at each other," you reminisced. "Look at us now."

"I remember," he said flatly.

"Sometimes I think I can still feel all the those Chinese burns you gave me."

Taking this trip down memory lane, prompted his eyes to water. You always had to feed him these moments of hope, that the girl he loved so unconditionally was still there, deep down. He almost resented you for it.

"No, that's the drugs ____," he deadpanned.

You laughed, "Yeah you're probably right."

And drug fucked ____ was back. His sweet girl came and went in a flash. You shouldn't have been like this, you had such an amazing future ahead of you. And that's what made his heart the saddest, remembering what you could have been, what you should have been.

"When is this gonna end, ____?" He asked you, defeat in his tone.

You frowned. "I don't know Namjoon."

"What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?!" You rebutted.

Sure, you didn't mind him lecturing you about how bad the drugs and your lifestyle were but you couldn't handle him questioning you, pushing recovery, pushing rehabilitation. Especially when you just smoked two joints and popped a small handful of pills. You had told him time and time again not to do this, not when the high was the only thing that made sense to you, not when the high felt like your entire world and you were nothing without it.

"This isn't you, this is what Jungkook made you! LEAVE HIM, ____! HE'S A FUCKING LOSER!"

His was face strained red, veins bulging from his neck, fists clutched against the steering wheel, foot slamming on the accelerator. He had finally lost it.

"Shut up," you snapped, still relatively calm despite steadily rocking to and fro.

"No! I am fucking done, ____. Do you know what it's like seeing you like this, huh?!" He continued to spit, eyes doubling in size from rage. "My heart breaks, it fucking shatters while I have to sit back and watch him kill you!"

You screamed, a deafening wail that drowned out the radio and truck's engine. It was way too much. Namjoon hadn't raised his voice at you since you broke his iPod in 7th grade. He'd never driven this fast with you in the car. And you were high. It was all way too much.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He swerved off the road so fast your frail body flung against the door. He parked on the cliff side under a tree, however you didn't notice the view. You were too busy hyperventilating, pulling at your hair and grunting in distress.

“You don’t understand,” you choked out.

“Then help me,” he pleaded.

“I can’t-” you snivelled, “I can’t just give up on him, Joon. I love him.”

He let out a long sigh and twisted his tight grip on the steering wheel to keep his anger satiated. How could you love someone who ruined your life? Who caused you to lose all sense of yourself? Namjoon couldn’t understand. He had to get through to you, now that you were finally talking about it. Unbuckling his seat belt, he shifted towards you and grabbed your bony hands with his large warm ones.

“Don’t you see that he’s doing to you? The damage he’s already done?” He pried softly.

“That’s the thing Namjoon! It’s not about me anymore,” you rebutted, shaking his hands in emphasis. “He’s the only one that matters, the person I care about more than I care about myself.”

“How can you say that?” He snapped, retracting his grip. “You have so many people that love you and want you back.”

You scoffed. “Who? You and who? My mum? My dad? My family? I haven’t heard from them in years, Namjoon. They don’t give a fuck about me anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he argued unconvincingly.

You gave him a look.

“Ok maybe it’s a little true, but only because you dropped everyone for that drug fucked Jeon asshole,” he paused, “I could never do that.”

Ouch. The best thing about your friendship with Namjoon and why you cherished it so greatly was because he never judged you. You trusted him enough to be vulnerable and tell him things you hadn’t told anyone else because he never judged you. And for him to actually do so felt gross and foreign. You really didn’t like it.

You chuckled darkly, brushing off the hurt of his words. “You already have, moron.”

He shook his head and gave you a confused look. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You avoided his eye the best you could, however it was hard with his gaze locked on you. You sighed. You had been dreading this conversation for years.

“I know you’re in love with me, Joonie,” you said softly, making his whole body stiffen.

"Don't-" he muttered.

“And look what you’re doing? I know you haven’t seen your family and friends in months. The only time you leave your apartment is when you come and get me. What's the difference between what I do for Jungkook and what you do for me?”

"You're wrong," he deadpanned unable to think straight after your pretty mouth uttered what he wished would never be spoken.

"Namjoon please, I know," you tried to soothe him. "Hoseok worries about you, he texts me every time you don't pick up the phone or answer the door. But you do for me, don't you? You don't even hesitate. You'll come running if I asked you, but you ignore everyone else. Don't you think that's just as unhealthy as what I have with Jungkook?"

"Hold the fuck up!" He snapped at you, upset at the way the tables turned and embarrassed you knew about his feelings for you all along. "I'm not the one with the fucking drug addiction!"

You frowned at him, that was clearly not the point you were trying to make.

You sighed, "I was just trying to explain, giving up Jungkook would be like you giving me up."

Namjoon just stared at you, perplexed by how you made complete sense. He would never be able to give you up. The thought left the most sour taste in his mouth and made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. However he was not going to let you know that. He would sell his soul if it meant you’d drop the drugs and Jeon Jungkook.

"First of all I'm not bad for you so no, it's not as unhealthy as what you have with Jungkook and secondly, you're my best friend ____, of course I'm going to jump and run if you need me."

You hated the way he always spat his name. One man you loved speaking the other man you loved's name with such disdain was upsetting to say the least. The love you felt for both men so big and so strong and unparalleled to anything you've felt before. And yet, each man couldn't understand what you felt for the other. It made you want to pull your hair out. No wonder you were so fucked up. 

And to further prove that statement, you changed your tone sultry, determined to coax him out of his denial. "What else would you do for me, Joon?" 

"Anything," he muttered, unable to look at you.

"Yeah? And what would you want me to do for you?" You continued suggestively, reaching out to touch him.

He ignored the goosebumps caused by the way you ran your fingers through his hair and cupped his neck. "We just went through this," he answered stiffly refusing to give you the satisfaction of a reaction.

You chuckled. "You know what I think?"

"Don't-"

Namjoon knew where you were going with this. He could always trust you to push the boundaries, leaving no topic unspoken. He could always trust you to turn any serious or heavy vibe into a weirdly sexual vibe. He hated it when you did this.

"I think, all the times you've had to drive me home you'd fantasize about me just leaning over and sucking your cock in gratitude. And all the times you'd come pick me up from whatever motel Jungkook left me at, you'd picture me sprawled out on the bed, naked, and touching myself waiting for you to come fuck me. I see the way you look at me, Namjoon, you’re not very subtle."

The way he was looking at you now was a look of horror and mortification. It was undeniably amusing to you and your hand traveled down his arm to land on his inner thigh. He was quick to grab it but you swore you could feel the tip of something hard.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He yelled at you, squeezing your hand hard.

His grip was painful, his stare was shame evoking but you were just too high to care. In one fast manoeuvre, you climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs. Only then he let your hand go, refusing to touch you or even look at you, refusing to encourage your bold actions.

"Isn't this what you want? Daddy?" You teased.

He was looking at the ceiling. You watched his adam's apple bob up and down and heard something close to a groan rumble in his throat. He told you once over way too many bottles of soju about his daddy kink. You squealed and teased and then swore you'd never bring it up again. Now here you were, sitting in his lap and using it against him. It never sounded so sexy coming from your lips and he was fighting you so hard it was tearing him apart.

"Stop," he tried to command although it came out shaky.

"Let me make you feel good," you whispered into his ear before peppering kisses down his exposed neck.

Namjoon had felt your lips before. After a few drinks, you'd always beg him for little pecks in which he'd happily oblige. Briefly meeting your pursed lips with his own multiple times throughout those drunk nights, earned your giggles and 'I love you’s' and it'd fill him with nothing but joy. However that platonic gesture was no match to how your kisses were making him feel now. They were hot and sensual, your tongue peeking out to dip in his clavicle. His breathing was becoming erratic, his heart was pounding in his chest. He never knew it could feel so good to have a little body in his lap, marking his skin and telling him his pleasure was the focus. But it was you, and it wasn't just joy flooding his emotions this time, it was desire, lust and he'd never felt it so strong in his whole life.

Then your hands were on his face, forcing him to look at you. And he wished he could die, right then and there. Because dying would be more bearable than rejecting you, which he had to do. You were high. He loved you too much to go any further with you in this state.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," you told him.

And he did nothing but let you, his morals chucked right out the car window. As much as he knew and wanted this to stop, he was just an absolute fucking sap for you. The temptation of you too strong. Just a little taste, just once, quick and chaste and he’d be satiated.

You kissed him like a lover, moulding your lips together in a way you only did with Jungkook. It should have felt wrong, but it didn’t. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and he groaned and it only made you grip his hair tighter, squeeze your thighs harder. He still hadn’t touched you and you were in awe of his self control. You were already a needy hot mess in his lap. The love you already felt for him igniting something inside you, making you feel as if you were on fire. You finally pulled away with a bite of his bottom lip and pecked his open mouth a few times after that. The kiss left you in a state of euphoria, admittedly your high enhancing your emotions. However, the unmistakable notion of how right it felt had you sighing in satisfaction and resting your forehead against his. 

“If you don’t get the fuck off of me right now, I’ll drive us off this cliff I swear to god.”

The pang to your heart was undeniable. You leaned back against the steering wheel and frowned at him, unable to mask the embarrassment of rejection. He couldn’t meet your eyes. However he could undoubtedly feel your stare and the hurt behind it and it made him soften. He sighed and gently tapped the top of your thighs.

“Please, just get off me ____,” he murmured. 

When he finally looked up at you, you could see it. His pupils were blown, the pain of restraint clear in his eyes, as clear as the darkness in them. And you knew, he wasn’t being honest, there was no way a man could look that lust crazed and mean it when he tells the love of his life to stop touching him. With this determination, you shimmied yourself closer to him and grinded against his crotch. An involuntary groan escaped his lips at the pressure and you smiled knowingly. He was rock hard.

“Joonie, you can’t resist me,” you cooed.

You grinded down again and Namjoon’s eyes doubled in size, unable to deny you. You created a steady rhythm, circling your hips and working his restrained member until you both were whimpering. He felt delicious against your clothed core, his boner pushing his jean zipper against you perfectly. Soon you were moaning shamelessly, basking in the friction against your little sensitive bud. Namjoon had never seen anything so sexy. You working him as if he wasn’t even there, caught up in your own pleasure, using him.

“You’re fucking evil,” he growled into your neck, your head thrown back in pleasure.

You acknowledged that comment with a chuckle before connecting your lips again. This time Namjoon didn’t hold back and you smirked through the kiss. You really didn’t have to try very hard to break him. He was putty in your hands. And soon, his hands were on your hips controlling your movements, up and down his clothed cock, focused on what felt good for him. He let you have your fun.

“How am I evil for giving you what you want huh?” You teased him, knowing he was incapable of answering you, focused on your hips moving against his. “How do you like it, daddy?”

Goosebumps formed on his skin as that word slipped from your lips. The look he gave you was primal, something you’ve never seen in him, something you had only seen in Jungkook. He looked as if he was about to devour you whole. And fuck, you’d let him if he’d let you ride his cock. You were so wet, your panties were soaking and if Namjoon released his grip on your hips there would be a wet stain on his zipper clear as day. The grinding was getting faster and harder and Namjoon’s grunts were getting louder. You were fast to catch on.

“Wait!” 

With a defeated groan he stopped, his approaching orgasm slipping away. 

“Were you trying to cum in your pants, Joonie? Because that’s not fair,” you tutted before reaching down and undoing his buckle.

Namjoon covered his face in shame. He shouldn’t have listened to you and kept going until he blew his load. He should have stopped you from reaching your little hand down his pants and palming his pulsing cock. But he couldn’t, no matter how wrong it was, he just couldn’t. He had been wanting this ever since he knew how to touch himself and he it did to the thought of you. It had always been you. 

When you finally pulled it out, he let out a groan of relief. And your eyes bulged at it. You had suspected him to be big but you never imagined to this extent. He was thick and pulsing, veins leading up to his red tip that leaked pre-cum. You didn’t even notice yourself licking your lips at the sight, but Namjoon did.

“So pretty,” you awed, giving him a few soft pumps. “Can I sit on it?”

He swallowed, staring into your doe eyes. His thoughts were screaming yes but his throat was dry. This was it. His last chance to stop this and go back to how things were and not fucking you up even more. He almost had the strength to question you until you let go of his cock and it slapped against his stomach, coaxing a giggle out of you, like it was your fucking toy. Something snapped within him. You reached for it again but he slapped your hand away and before you could protest his hand was in between your thighs. 

“Ah fuck!” 

Namjoon’s fingers found your lace covered swollen bud in record time, rubbing circles and making you mewl. You were so close to coming and his movements were hurdling you to the edge fast. But he knew better, removing his hand from your core when you needed it most. You couldn’t control your whines. You attempted to grind into his palm but he just wouldn’t let you.

“You’re a dirty little slut aren’t you?” He taunted you, softly tapping your clit. “So wet and willing for me. For a man that isn’t your boyfriend?” 

The look in your eyes gave him chills. Your eyes dark and crazed for him, not Jungkook. You wanted him, not Jungkook. He was relishing. 

“Shut up and fuck me- AH!”

Without warning, Namjoon pushed your panties to the side and slid two fingers inside you. You were drenched enough for his fingers to just slip right in. He hummed at the feeling of your walls clenching around his digits and moaned in anticipation of feeling that around his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight and wet hmmm,” he praised you. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

You whined, trying to fuck yourself on his hand. “Please I want your cock so bad.”

He gripped your hip with his free hand to stop your grinding and you choked out a sob. You had been close at least three times already. “If you want my cock baby girl, you’re going to have to do what I say for once ok?”

You didn’t respond so he curled his fingers inside you, brushing that sweet spot and it had you screaming. “Ok ok I will I promise! Please just let me cum,” you begged.

“So impatient,” he tutted. “Lean back and show me that pretty little pussy of yours.”

With both his fingers still knuckle deep, you leaned back against the steering wheel and lifted your skirt up. He groaned at the sight as you pulled your panties further to the side. Only then he finally started moving his fingers again, watching them disappear inside you and reappear slick with your arousal. You were a moaning mess as he picked up the pace and then used his other hand to rub tight little circles on the hood of your clit. 

“Is it good baby?” He cooed, watching you in admiration.

“Fuck yes Namjoon, you’re so fucking good, I’m so close,” you practically screamed in pleasure.

He smirked. “Tell me when you’re coming.”

You could only nod, helpless to your oncoming orgasm. Namjoon kept thrusting and rubbing you so good you forgot where you were. Stars were threatening to blur your vision. This orgasm was about to destroy you, you could feel it rumbling in the pit of your stomach, threatening to burst. You had been denied your sweet release too many times, you were scared Namjoon would deny you again so you didn’t do what you were told, and let the coil snap and shoot pleasure through your entire body. Namjoon knew better. He could feel your walls constricting around his digits, he could feel your thighs tense around his. He knew you were coming, and as soon as he knew you were, he pulled out his drenched fingers and shoved his cock inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

“Oh fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!!!” You screamed at the stretch.

He thrusted into you hard through your orgasm, fingers refusing to leave your clit until you were trembling and your eyes rolled back. He had dreamt about how good your pussy would feel, but he had never imagined you would feel this good. He couldn’t hold back his deep groans as he felt your walls clench around him, coaxing, threatening him to cum after three fucking pumps. He held out, slowing down after your orgasm. He rubbed your hip bones with his thumbs affectionately, guiding you slowly up and down his cock, allowing you to recover. 

“I shouldn’t be so nice to you,” he stated almost threateningly. “You didn’t listen to me.”

You didn’t respond, still in a post-orgasm haze.

“I should keep fucking you no matter how fucked out or sensitive you are,” he said through gritted teeth.

You watched him attempt to crane his neck to watch his cock disappear inside you. You saw the strain in his face and neck as he slowly fucked you on his dick. He wasn’t enjoying this as much as he could be.

“Joon, you can do whatever the fuck you want with me,” you deadpanned, staring at him through your lashes.

He only chuckled deeply, still focusing on controlling your rolling hips. 

“How about you fuck me from behind?” You suggested innocently. “I know daddy would love to watch his cock disappear into my little hole.”

With that he froze and the grabbed your face to suck it. He growled in the kiss as your words resonated in his mind and caused goosebumps. He couldn’t believe that came out of your mouth and how true those words were. He bit your lip and you broke the kiss but he came back for more before the position would change and he wouldn’t be able to, his possessive side triggered.

When he finally let go of your face, you delicately lifted yourself and turned around so that you were straddling his closed thighs. He pushed the seat back as far as it would go so you’d have more room. He was quick to take advantage of the new position, slapping your ass and grabbing your underwear and pulling to rub against your wetness. You cried and he chuckled. With his seat reclined all the way back, you doubled over against the steering wheel giving him a perfect view of your holes and it was driving him crazy.

“You know I love you right?” He said, wanting you to remember because there was no way he was about to fuck you like he did.

“Don’t ruin the mood Namjoon,” you whined, not having to think about feelings while you were in such heat.

He shook his head and chuckled as he slowly inched his cock inside you, enjoying your whimpers and the way you wiggled your ass for more. As soon as he was lodged fully inside you he began a relentless pace, fucking you even harder than before and not even giving you time to adjust. He had a fist full of your ass cheek, manipulating your movements so he could see your core working on him while he thrusted like a fucking animal. You gripped onto the steering wheel hard, screaming at the landscape through the windshield. While your view was beautiful, it couldn’t beat Namjoon’s. He was transfixed by you, the way your hair cascaded down your arched back, the way your ass slapped against his abdomen and the way the lips of your heat swallowed his cock repetitively. He was in heaven. His biggest, deepest, darkest fantasy was a reality. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

He snaked an arm around you to reach your abused clit and drew circles again. You yelped and groaned, chanting his name like a mantra. And before you had a chance to fathom, he had shoved down on the small of your back so he could stuff his cock even deeper inside you. The spot he hit made your eyes roll back, and he hit it continuously and hard. 

“Ahhhh yes fuck, fuck, baby,” you screamed, “you gonna fucking tear me apart.”

Another orgasm was approaching and it made your breathing uneven. You couldn’t do it, you were still sensitive and he was fucking you too hard. His thrust were so forceful, you were bouncing off of his lap. You started to panic, digging your fingernails into his knee. 

“Are you gonna cum for me babygirl?” He teased, pulling your hair towards him so he could whisper in your ear. “You gonna cum for daddy?”

“I can’t,” you sobbed. 

He chuckled at you sadistically. “You will,” he growled before letting go of your hair and letting you flop back against the steering wheel.

Namjoon finally had control of you, and he was getting drunk off the power. He should have gone easy on you. He should have taken his time and gone nice and slow, for the first time at least but he had waited for this for too long. His primal instincts overruled his reasoning and judgement. All he could think of was how badly he needed to cum but he wouldn’t until you did. He needed feel you tighter than a vice grip around his cock, milking him for all he’s got. 

With his nimble fingers on your swollen clit and a particularly perfect thrust to your g-spot you were coming so hard, tears threatened to roll down your cheeks. You let out a silent scream as your body convulsed. The pleasure was so intense you could barely handle it but at the same time you swore, in the moment, you never loved anything more than Namjoon’s cock. 

“Good girl,” he praised you through uneven breaths.

He wasn’t long after you however it didn’t feel that way. He kept pounding you, harder and harder, chasing his orgasm and prolonging yours. You were shuddering and clenching wildly around him and soon he was a goner. With a strangled moan he shot his load inside you, his hot cum splashing against your walls. He was still rubbing you through your peak and soon you became so sensitive and completely destroyed, you slapped his hand away and face planted against the steering wheel. The car horn blared as you both caught your breath, both dazed and dazzled from your highs. Your abused hole kept squeezing his softening cock and he slowly pulled out with a hiss. You whimpered as he delicately stroked your core one last time before readjusting your panties, letting his warm seed make a mess of you. When you finally lifted your forehead off the horn, you twisted around to give Namjoon a big kiss, savouring the way he tasted, the passion in the movements of his lips. Then very shakily, you lifted yourself out of his lap and slid back into your seat.

“Joonie, if I knew you were that good, I would have hopped on your cock years ago,” you weakly exclaimed.

He chuckled, tucking himself back into his jeans. “To be completely honest, I don’t come on to girls who have boyfriends, let alone fuck them.”

“He has morals?!” You teased, your eyes widening in fake shock.

“And you don’t?” He snapped with a slight scoff.

Your smiled faded and your eyes went dark. “I pretend I don’t see panties on his bedroom floor that don’t belong to me and he doesn’t question all the time I spend with you,” you uttered coldly. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

While you stared ahead, Namjoon stared at you with disbelief and pity. You were so incredibly lost, unable to decipher what was good and bad, right and wrong. Unable to understand you could do better and treat others better. And in that moment Namjoon realised you and Jungkook were just as bad as each other, just as bad for each other. Jungkook was the only romantic relationship you had known and now he just threw himself into the mix. How could he save you now when he just possibly contributed to stifling your self worth? Rage brewed inside him, rage towards himself and his actions. What you two had was so much more, meant so much more than sex. He was your salvation and now it was tainted because he couldn’t keep his dick in his fucking pants. As he started the car, the more he thought about it the more he couldn’t keep it in.

“What am I to you?” 

He stared at you, anxious and hopeful for an answer to confirm your idea of him and your relationship was still good. Desperate for reassurance that you knew he was still your best friend and he would never leave you or hurt you or take advantage of you. He needed you to know he was still here to stay, always

You stared back, your gaze unfaltering. “You’re my ride or die.”

He smiled.

“And don’t you forget it.”

You giggled and then yawned. “No way, you wouldn’t let me.”

Seeing your droopy eyes and small but content smile filled his heart with warmth. He loved you so deeply, deeper than just attraction and sex. He needed you to know that and you did. He grabbed your head and pulled it towards him, planting a kiss on your forehead before finally swerving back onto the highway.

You sighed. “Thank you for tiring me out, I haven’t slept in days.”

He scowled, masking his pride before reaching the backseat and pulling out a blanket. You accepted it, tucking yourself in and curling into a ball.

“Goodnight ____.”

“Goodnight,” you hummed. “I love you, Joonie.”

Namjoon’s heart dropped into his stomach. “I love you too, ____,” he mumbled.

*

You woke up to Namjoon opening your door for you. He looked exhausted and you couldn’t blame him. It would have been at least midnight and he had been driving for six hours. To say you felt bad was an understatement. He was the kindest most beautiful person you knew. You really didn’t deserve him. Especially when you denied him your heart for all these years and he still offers to carry you up the stairs to your apartment. You declined but he insisted on walking you to your front door. 

“You know, you can crash here if you need. I don’t want you driving around while you’re so tired.”

He chuckled and ruffled the top of your hair. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You worry about me so I’m allowed to worry about you,” you argued. “Relationships are a two way street you know.”

Rich, fucking rich, ____, especially coming from you, you thought to yourself cringing away from him.

“Yeah,” he replied. “They are.”

“Joon I didn’t mean it like that-”

“How did you mean it then?” He interrupted you, intrigued rather than irritated.

You wanted to tell him you wanted to be just as good of a friend to him as he was to you. You wanted to tell him you really didn’t deserve him and he should find another girl, a nice one, to fawn over and treat as well as he treated you. You wanted to tell him to treat you as shit as you treated him. Anything to make you feel any less of a bitch. But you couldn’t, because his lips were on yours. 

He kissed you softly, out of the blue and before you could even process, you were kissing him back. Your lips molded together like they were meant for each other, like they belonged together. It felt so good to kiss him. Even if you were in your right mind, you don’t think you would be able to pull away. His hands cupped your face controlling the movements. It was all so sweet and passionate you just wanted to melt into him. You held onto his shirt, kissing him back feverishly, enjoying the taste of his mouth, the wetness and softness of his lips. When he pulled away you almost whined. 

“Ask me to stay again,” he murmured desperately, his forehead against yours.

Your jacket pocket then vibrated. Namjoon sighed disconnecting your foreheads. The moment, ruined. Whoever was calling you, you were about to let them have it. Either answer in a cuss or hang up and answer in a cuss over text. You were livid.... Until you saw the caller ID.

Jungkook...

“Oh,” you mumbled.

You looked up at Namjoon and he was staring at your phone, jaw clenched. What were you to do now? You knew you shouldn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. It would be the biggest slap in the face. But god, you wanted to no matter how intensely Namjoon gazed into your pupils. 

Namjoon was the one you should be with. Namjoon loved you. Namjoon had cared for you and looked after you all his life. Namjoon was good for you. Namjoon made sense. 

You swiped right across your screen.

“Fuck babe, I’m so sorry I was so fucked.”

His voice made your heart skip a bloody beat. No matter how much of a dropkick loser he was, his effect on you never faltered. Your whole being soften at his lame apology. You sighed, half recollecting your thoughts, half hating yourself for being so susceptible to him. You held back tears, knowing what you were going to say next. He called you babe again to coax a response but it only made you drop the phone from your ear so he couldn’t hear the sob you choked on. Disappointment flooded through you and ignited the intense self-loathing that plummeted you into the abyss of Jeon Jungkook.

You turned back to Namjoon but he wasn’t there. He was gone, leaving you with the sound of his truck revving and screeching off onto the road. Leaving you with an overwhelmingly sunken feeling in your chest, knowing that his chest would have felt a hundred times heavier. You just broke his heart.

You lifted the phone back to your ear.

“I know, baby, it’s ok.”

[storytaeme]

worth it – day 23

spoopy kinktober drabbles – NC17

➵ Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin

➵ Prompt: Prostitute/Sex Work    ↪ content: rimming, fingering, anal sex, very soft prostitution theme

➵ Word Count: 3,706 words

Being the busy man that he was, Namjoon barely had any time to spare for romantic endeavors. Quick fucks were done on times when he so desperately needed a release, but otherwise, he preferred to remain on his own and focus on work. His friends, of course, were unaccepting of this.

“Hoseok, listen,” Namjoon started, pressing his fingers against his temple, “I don’t have time for celebrations—”

“It’s your thirtieth birthday, Joon!” Hoseok chided, harrumphing in disapproval. “We’ve got to celebrate.”

Namjoon gave him a look, “There really is nothing to celebrate when it’s just another day of me getting closer to my golden age.”

“Even I’m with Hoseok on this one,” Yoongi shrugged, “think it’d be nice to take a breather from the office. It looks like you’ve been living and breathing here, kinda gross.”

So Namjoon had been cooped up in his office for about two weeks now. It wasn’t as if he did it on purpose, he just got carried away whenever he was in the zone. Being in the zone meant that he tired out quickly and ended up crashing on his table before his secretary woke him up for the next day. Then it was a repeat of the cycle.

“Come on, dinner and then a few drinks at a bar, what do you say?” Hoseok asked, this time his eyes glimmering with so much hope that Namjoon would be plagued with eternal guilt if he were to refuse.

“Fuck, fine. I can work with that,” Namjoon grumbled, “no singing or surprises though.”

Hoseok grinned, “No singing guaranteed, surprises to be determined.”

“You’re an asshole.”

—

Namjoon lugged Hoseok by the shoulders as Yoongi wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist. This was fucking ridiculous. He was thirty, he shouldn’t be babysitting his drunk friend on his birthday. “Never again,” he growled, tossing a glare over Hoseok’s tilted back head to Yoongi. Hoseok was incredibly intoxicated, cackling all the way while dropping dad jokes he had apparently picked up from his coworker.

“Hey, hey, Joonie, guess what—”

“No more, Hoseok, please,” Namjoon huffed, his patience wearing thin.

“No, no, you’ll love this,” Hoseok insisted, flailing his arm off Yoongi to swat Namjoon’s chest.

Next to him, Yoongi visibly paled, “Hoseok, don’t tell me you—”

“That’s right!” Hoseok exclaimed, making ringing noises. “I got you a surprise.” Namjoon was already concerned enough as was with Hoseok’s state of mind, but couple that with the look of incredulity of Yoongi’s face, he knew this wasn’t a good sign.

Namjoon eyed him suspiciously as they made their way to the hotel elevators, supposedly making their way to the room Hoseok had booked for them for the night. “What is it?”

“Hoseok, please don’t,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head, “Ignore him, let’s just crash in our room.”

“No, fuck you, Yoongi! I told you this was a fan-fucking-tastic idea.” Hoseok beamed as he tugged on the lapels of Namjoon’s coat to tug him out of the elevator and down a hallway. He counted past every room happily before stopping and yelling out a “ta-da!”

The only thing Namjoon could do was stare in disbelief at Hoseok who was already leaning against the wall, wailing some exciting tune about sex. What the actual fuck was his friend? "Okay, what is this?"

Yoongi grunted, shouldering past Namjoon to take hold of his other friend by the shoulders. "Listen," he started, looking at Namjoon this time, "I told him it was a bad idea. A really fucking bad idea. But he kept telling me it was cool and he did this without talking to me so I will not be held responsible."

"Don't worry, Joonie, I got you the best of the best," Hoseok giggled, twirling his finger into the air.

"What the hell did you get me?"

"A prostitute."

For a second, Namjoon was stunned into silence, blinking into space as he tried to process the bomb his friend had just dropped on him. "Uh, what?"

"Like a really good one. Top notch guy, gets around with the higher class. If he had a Yelp page, he would get five fucking stars for his blowjob skills alone," Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, but the implications of his words were too obvious to ignore.

"Hoseok, what the fuck?"

"I told you it would be a bad idea!" Yoongi snapped, "Look, you don't have to—"

"Uh, yes he does. That guy costs a lot per hour. I'm giving Namjoon the treat yo' self treatment so, my friend, mi amigo, please. Please make it worth my crying bank account."

Namjoon slapped his forehead and let out a sound of displeasure. "Seok-ah, fuck, just cancel it. I don't want a prostitute."

"He's really good, Joon, like holy fuck. I've seen the guy take dicks and he's just… wow. Goddamn," Hoseok let out a low whistle. "For my sake, please just try it."

"For your sake, you better start running," Namjoon bit back. Instead of whacking Hoseok like he wanted to, Namjoon instead turned to Yoongi, "Take him to a room, yeah? I'll join you guys once I deal with this guy."

Hoseok whined a complaint but Yoongi quickly shut him up with a hand to his mouth. "Got it, I'll text you. Let me know if there are any problems." With that, Yoongi dragged away a kicking and screaming Hoseok all the while bitching in his ear for being fucking stupid.

Namjoon took a deep breath and looked at the key card Hoseok had shoved into his hands. Here goes nothing. He knocked out of politeness, wasn't sure why, but he did it anyway. When a "come in" sounded from the other side of the door, he tapped in and walked down the narrow corridor to—

Holy fucking shit.

"Hey, baby, looking for someone special?" The guy—the goddamn beautiful angel with the softest pink oversized hoodie that looked way too much like Namjoon's to be a coincidence—smiled, his bare legs stretched out across the bed's white sheets.

Holy fucking shit.

"Uh," Namjoon started dumbly, ignoring the sudden appearance of the frog in his throat that was preventing him from saying anything at all really.

"Lost for words, honey?" the guy grinned, which drew Namjoon's gaze to his perfectly plump pink lips. Oh God. He was so fucked. "It's okay, we don't have to talk." It was then he realized the man had gracefully slid off the bed and stood in front of Namjoon. The man was only a couple of centimeters shorter than Namjoon and—wow, his lips looked even softer up close.

"Uh," he said again.

"I thought you were supposed to be the articulate one, that's what I heard at least from your buddy," the guy smiled, a devilish twinkle in his eye, as his hand took hold of his suit to tug him forward.

Namjoon cleared his throat, "I—uh—just yeah—you know."

"I don't know, darling, why don't you tell me your name first."

"Kim, Kim Namjoon."

The guy's eyes danced with mirth, lighting up like fireflies. Namjoon could stare at them all day. "Like Bond, James Bond."

"Nah, just like… Kim Namjoon," he finished lamely.

"Not used to my clients giving me their real names," the guy cocked an eyebrow curiously, "well, to make it fair, I'm Seokjin. It's a pleasure to meet you, Namjoon-ssi."

"Just Namjoon is fine," Namjoon coughed again. What was he here to do again? He wasn't quite sure. His brain was sort of a puddle at the moment and he wasn't sure why he was suddenly feeling chilly—"oh."

Seokjin smiled again, a sweet quirk of his lips that momentarily distracted Namjoon from the task at hand (which was what again?). "Surprised?"

He hadn't even realized how long he had been staring at the man's face until he felt the sudden hit of air conditioning on his exposed chest where his shirt had been unbuttoned. "Yeah, wow, you work fast."

"You charge me a lot by the hour, honey, not sure if you want to waste more time," Seokjin winked. And wow, Namjoon couldn't wink for the life of him but this man made it an art. It was really amazing. Namjoon was mildly impressed.

"Wait, shit," Namjoon halted his hands that had begun to roam all over his body. His front felt like it had been kissed by flames with Seokjin's touch, but he had to do what he had to do. "I came here to tell you that we're canceling. Yeah, canceling." He repeated with more spirit.

Seokjin paused, eyes flicking up almost accusingly at Namjoon. "Canceling," he echoed in question.

"Yeah, it's just my friend thought this was a good idea and I'm sorry you came all the way here, I'll pay you whatever for the hour but I'm sorry." Wow, this apology was coming off ridiculous. How did Namjoon ever win over anyone with his speeches when he couldn't even talk to Seokjin properly? Then again, nobody he ever talked to looked as beautiful as Seokjin.

The removal of his touch from Namjoon's body had Namjoon at a loss, he could feel himself growing disappointed. "I have to say I'm kind of disappointed, Namjoon, I was expecting more from you, especially from what your friend told me."

Namjoon gulped, "What did my friend tell you?"

Seokjin smirked, leaning close to brush his lips along the shell of Namjoon's ear. "That you've got a really nice cock," he said with emphasis on the last word and a grab of Namjoon's crotch.

The other man could only swallow and hold back the electricity that coursed immediately through his veins. Desire seemed to build up at record speed, filling up his body with warmth as blood shot south between his legs. He could feel his dick harden in his pants, begging for attention that Seokjin could give. "Um, I—fuck, I can't really—I don't know, uh."

Real mature, Namjoon.

Seokjin smiled, running open-mouthed kisses from the back of Namjoon's ear where he was so, so sensitive, and down his neck, tongue darting out to drag along the skin. "So was he wrong?"

"I, um, I don't really know—I'm not—oh shit," he mistakenly let a moan escape past his lips when Seokjin sank his teeth down into his shoulder, the pain eliciting a pained but pleasured reaction from him. Seokjin's hands began to move again, touching all over his chest and around, scraping his nails down Namjoon's broad back.

"How about you let me be the judge of that? We don't have to do much, but I can make it worth your time," Seokjin smiled, flipping them around so he could shove the CEO onto his ass on the bed. Namjoon could only flop rather unelegantly, hands planted on the clean sheets as Seokjin stood before him. The man tugged on the collar of the hoodie, closing his eyes as he sniffed it, "Your friend lent this to me. Said it was yours."

Fucking knew it.

"You really do smell this good," Seokjin smiled, "good taste too, especially in men."

Namjoon wanted to say that he hadn't chosen Seokjin but rather Hoseok. However, he wasn't in a place to argue when he literally lost his sense of purpose the second he laid eyes on Seokjin and his creamy thighs.

"Can I eat you out?" Namjoon blurted out.

Seokjin stilled, blinking in surprise. "What?"

"Just—uh, can I eat you out? Like taste your ass? Stick my tongue—"

"I know what eating out is, Namjoon," Seokjin laughed, "just didn't expect you to want to do it for me."

"I mean, I can't see your ass but you look like you have a great one and I kind of want to taste it." He was babbling then, he was definitely babbling and making a fool of himself.

But Seokjin made no comments regarding his incessant rambling, instead smiling softly and nodding. "How do you want me, honey?"

"Hands and knees, I really want to see your ass," Namjoon coughed.

Seokjin nodded and climbed onto the bed. He stood on his knees, hiking Namjoon's hoodie up around his waist to show the pert, cute ass. His skin was so clean and unblemished, free of any markings, free for Namjoon to mark. Namjoon's breath hitched in his throat as the man threw a lascivious, smoldering look over his shoulder before slowly bending down, pressing his face into the sheets.

Oh fuck.

Namjoon could feel his cock stir in his pants at the gorgeous sight. Seokjin really was pretty and he had an even prettier ass. His hole puckered and tight, his balls shaven clean. "Fuck, I forgot to bring, I mean I didn't come—"

A bottle of lube flew over Seokjin's shoulder and landed straight in Namjoon's open hands. "That's what I'm here for," Seokjin winked, "now do your worst, babe."

He was going to die. He was going to die out of sheer bliss from the perfection that was Seokjin. Namjoon could only wordlessly nod as he set aside the bottle for now. Instead, he dipped his head down, running his nose along the soft skin of Seokjin's ass and lowering himself to place soft kisses along Seokjin's thighs. Even his thighs were perfect, such delicate skin where he could plant purple and red blooms with his teeth and lips. He felt Seokjin tremble slightly before him and he continued to teeth at his skin, nibbling and running his hands all over his inner thighs.

Namjoon worked his way up to the man's balls, pushing Seokjin further into the bed so he could reach his mouth onto the man's cock. Taking it in his hand, he felt it pulse a soft shade of red, a quiet plea for attention. Namjoon spit in his hand before stroking the cock again, spreading the slick along the length as his mouth latched onto his balls and sucked.

"Oh God," Seokjin gasped in front of him. Namjoon was pleased and continued his ministrations, taking his balls between his lips and circling his tongue around the soft tissue. Seokjin's legs quivered, threatening to give out as Namjoon did so. He could hear the silent whimpers the man tried to hide but Namjoon drank it all in, appreciated how much Seokjin was reacting to his movements.

"You've got such a pretty ass, baby, got pretty balls too," Namjoon murmured. "Cock feels so hard, are you hard for me already?"

"Got myself pretty excited thinking about you, honey," Seokjin threw right back, not missing a beat.

Namjoon growled, the vibrations shooting energy straight through Seokjin. "Fuck, your balls taste fucking amazing. Your ass is going to be even nicer." Namjoon dragged his tongue all the way up from Seokjin's balls up to the puckered hole before sticking it all the way in. He buried the muscle deep, wiggling it around to stroke at the walls.

Seokjin muffled his cries into the sheets, toes curling in pleasure. "Unnngh, yeah, just like that. Oh it feels so good, your tongue is so wet," he moaned.

The other man grinned proudly but continued to tongue at the rim. He used his hands to spread Seokjin's ass, leaving the tight opening to stretch ever so slightly for him. The action had Seokjin whimpering again and Namjoon traced the rim, barely dipping it in to tease him.

"Shit, like that, Namjoon, hnnng your tongue feels fantastic," Seokjin mewled, his body quaking with the desire that spread all throughout his system. The room suddenly felt incredibly warm, his body lighting up with Namjoon's mouth all over him. The man even teethed at the opening, tugging on it gently and just enough to have Seokjin gasping his name in pleasant shock. "Oh God, where'd you learn to do that—shit, your mouth—so hot," Seokjin jabbered incoherently, his mind too fuzzy to comprehend anything.

Namjoon wasn't even going to deny himself of the pride he felt blossoming in his chest. "A great ass is a great meal, baby," Namjoon groaned, sticking his tongue back in even deeper and pushing it up against the thick, stubborn walls. He reached for the lube this time and soaked his fingers in them, letting the gel warm before he pulled his mouth away and began to fuck the man open.

Seokjin was more than surprised by the sudden intrusion but had no qualms about it because Namjoon was moving his fingers fast, fucking him filthy and spreading his fingers out inside of him to open him up. The squelches were lewd, the sound of Namjoon's fingers sliding in and out of his hole had Namjoon twitching in his pants. As he worked his long digits in, he fiddled with his belt and pants enough to push them down to his knees so he could fist his cock.

The touch was a welcome change, the warmth of his palm on the heat of his cock. The head throbbed red and angry as he tugged on his cock, running his thumb over the slit as he ducked his head down again so he could dance his tongue along Seokjin's entrance.

"Do you hear that?" Namjoon asked as he poured lube all over his cock, stroking it with such ease as the sloppy sounds bounced off the walls of the room. "So hard for you, baby. Eating you out has me so fucking hard right now, wanna fuck you so badly."

Seokjin let out a sultry whimper, one begging for more. "Do it then, God, just fuck me. I want your cock in me."

With a low growl, Namjoon turned Seokjin onto his back, releasing his ass of the torment Namjoon had put him through. His cock, pink and pulsating, looked about ready to burst. He pushed up the hoodie higher so he could expose the gorgeous sight of Seokjin's pale chest. Namjoon gripped his hip as he positioned himself at the man's hole. He rolled on a condom and teased the tip of his cock around it at first, making Seokjin cry for his member inside of him.

"Okay, baby," Namjoon nodded, trying his best to restrain himself from pounding into Seokjin like he wanted to. He pushed his cock in slowly, watching the head disappear into the tightness. The heat that engulfed him was indescribable, squeezing tight around him, resisting. Namjoon groaned as he felt his entire length sink into Seokjin, his ass taking up all of Namjoon. It was mesmerizing to watch how much of him Seokjin managed to take in.

He didn't waste any time, fucking into Seokjin at a speed that had the other man gasping, breath hiccuping in his chest as he tried to get his composure together. Seokjin kept pleading Namjoon to go faster and harder, to fuck him open until he couldn't walk. And Namjoon delivered, his fingers burrowing into Seokjin's soft flesh as he mercilessly pushed into the man over and over.

"Mmmph Namjoon, oh fuck, that feels so good, just like that," Seokjin choked, hands scrambling in the sheets to seek some form of support for the intense pleasure coursing through him.

Namjoon muttered filthy words under his breath, ones he knew would fuel Seokjin's libido. "Such a tight ass, baby, made to be fucked," Namjoon muttered as his cock filled Seokjin up again, the friction lighting a fire inside of his belly that had him arching off the bed. The man was undoubtedly so beautiful, so fluid in all his movements. Namjoon couldn't help his breath being taken away when Seokjin came untouched, spilling white all over his pretty stomach. He dragged on the orgasm for as long as possible, stroking Seokjin's insides and rubbing against his prostate until the man was shaking all over.

He followed soon after, a rumbling moan slipping past his lips as he filled the condom with the result of his sticky pleasure. He rolled over onto his back, panting, and seemed ready to get some rest, but Seokjin had other ideas. On weakened knees, he straddled Namjoon, sliding his cock back inside of him. Namjoon tossed his head back and groaned. "You might be done, old man, but I haven't had my way with you yet," Seokjin grinned with a nip of his teeth on Namjoon's neck.

--

Namjoon woke up the next morning aching all over his body. He looked down to his chest to find a smattering of hickeys from the night before. Even on his goddamn neck and jaw, what the fuck? This was going to be a bitch to cover up for work. It was then he realized that the other side of the bed was cool, no body in sight.

He tried to ignore the falling disappointment in his stomach. Seokjin was hired after all. They could've had a great night, but that was it. He had been paid. Fuck, Namjoon was an idiot. Maybe his love life has been too dry. Fumbling for his phone on the desk, he found a bunch of missed calls from his friends. That he could deal with later.

The knocking on his door however he couldn't.

"Alright, fuck, I'm coming!" Namjoon called out, loosely shrugging on his slacks as he reached to yank open the door with a glare to the person on the other side. Hoseok was smiling at him stupidly while Yoongi eyed his body with curiosity.

"You look like you had a fun night," Hoseok winked, releasing a small whistle from between his lips. "Damn, that guy must've been really good for him to do a number on you like this."

"Piss off," Namjoon grumbled, still bitter that Seokjin had left without saying anything. Or maybe he did and Namjoon had been too exhausted to hear.

The two entered and Yoongi instantly scrunched his face up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This damn room reeks of sex, gross."

"Well, that was thanks to you guys," Namjoon huffed.

"Yo, what's this?" Hoseok asked, picking up a piece of paper with a scribbling on it.

Namjoon frowned. He hadn't noticed that on the bed earlier. Snatching it from his friend's hand, he quickly read over its content.

Fun night. If you ever need another, give me a call – xx, S.

God, he was so fucked.

[big-pp-energy-ven]

Lonely Hour {OC One shot}

OCs featured: (Henry x Nexus)

Editor's note: I usually don't write as much, I honestly prefer comics. I wrote this weeks ago and I kinda want feedback. Please enjoy... maybe I'll post the rest later (it got cut off).

________________

The amount of body's grinding against each other in such close proximity made Henry claustrophobic, viewing how so many people were from their school.

All their movements were jagged, loose, and awkward, some people putting in actual effort to dance while the others shimmied the songs. The lights were dimmed with some strobe neons swiping the walls, and there was one main speaker blaring popular hits from the decade. 

The volume was astronomical, and quite surprisingly, no one called the authorities to shut down the party.

Hanging by the wall, Henry and his close friend, Shade, stayed near each other in hopes to not get lost in the crowd. 

It was difficult to hear anyone, not even themselves, talk or even shout.

The vibrations of the sounds resulted in Henry to become nauseous. 

Shade held their red cup tight, watching their purple haired friend crumple to the ground in boredom.

Guilt struck them, as they realized that Henry wasn't the type to enjoy massive crowds like this; or really any sort of crowd. He had spaced out when Shade kneels in front of him, mouthing something like,

"Do you wanna go someplace quiet?" 

Though he couldn't hear them, Henry nodded, only to rise from the floor and follow them out of there.

Apparently, many of the kids at school were invited to this spring break party by a small group who rented a large enough airbnb for the majority of the people who came. There was a pool, and the lot had enough space for the party to carry on outside. Of course, there were a few college students, just in case the cops raided, so that they could pull it off as being a frat house party (which would most definitely backfire anyways).

Upon entering outside, the warm, humid evening air hit their faces. It was ten-ish, and most of people's curfews were way past that time… but it's not like they cared.

Henry and Shade take a load off from being inside, and take a seat wherever there was a space available. Most of the outdoor seating was taken up by some participants, who were smoking and hanging out. So, the duo sat on the first few steps of the patio, watching everyone have a good time.

A different song played, with a mixture of ambience from the partiers in the pool, and crickets. The smell of weed hits Henry's nostrils as they sit in silence…

Shade takes a dab from their vape pen, exhaling it out momentarily. 

"Do you think Fikod's having a good time?" Henry murmurs, loud enough for Shade to hear. Fikod and Shade were siblings and usually they were both always next to each other, due to them being fraternal twins. 

"I bet my ass he is," They snort, some leftover vapor excretes from their mouth, "He's probably getting stoned right now."

Henry chuckles with Shade, imagining his friend getting high with a group of other stoners.

Despite what everyone else was doing, Henry didn't want to get involved with it. If anything, he'd probably have one or two beers and that would be enough for him to get mildly tipsy…

This made Henry feel kind of left out, even though he's making the best decision, and it caused him to feel bad for holding Shade back from their fun.

He couldn't handle the amplified music, the large crowd, the drugs- nothing.

He began to wonder why he was even invited or brought along by them- knowing that he didn't like partying.

A part of him wanted to get out of the house, away from Zhila, his aunt. He would've done something else entirely if he didn't want to attend this party.

"Shade," Henry turns to his bright ginger-haired friend, "do you wanna go out there?" 

With a swing of their head, they stare at Henry with widened eyes, "What? Me?"

Shade processes what he said, before answering solemnly, "Well, I do. I wanna try to hook up and smoke."

Then, they pause, tapping their pen against their knee… "But I don't wanna leave you sitting here."

Henry scoffs, rolling his grey eyes, "Don't worry about me so much?" 

I don't wanna be alone.

"You're just saying that, man," Shade scoffs back at him, more playfully.

"I'm being serious," Henry perks up, meeting them at eye level… 

"I don't mind."

God damn, I just wanna leave this place.

Shade's eyes avert away from Henry's for a second, thinking. A reluctant smile grows on their lips, their freckles creasing as they do…

"Alright then," they utter, boosting themselves from the step. As they turn to go back into the home, Shade says very sternly, "If you need anything, please come find me. Okay?"

Henry raises his phone, as if to gesture to them that he'll call if he needs help.

Plodding up the patio steps, Shade's feminine figure eventually squeezes by a group of people by the entryway of the home, disappearing from Henry's sight.

For the next few minutes, he sat on the stairs, in his own thoughts… watching everyone else have fun.

The siren girls splash each other and pool other people into the water as a joke. A few groups of guys are recording and vlogging their experiences. A small mixture of girls and boys are doing a choreographed dance for tiktok…

Gross.

Henry fiddles with his phone, pretending that he was messaging someone on his phone, while in reality, he was scrolling through his social media.

Various posts and snaps of people from the party, posing with their friends, videos of them doing shots and other crazy shit.

The soft tapping of Henry's shoe was increasing in speed as he scrolled deeper into his feed.

Just threads and threads of everyone posting their point of view and having fun.

He saw a few people he knew, like Rain… who was only there for the aesthetic and the weed (most people were anyways).

Brit and his current girlfriend, Briana, both had taken "couple" selfies… like everyone else.

And Nexus, who was posed in a very dominating stand, carefully taken by one of his posse, as if it were a photoshoot.

Envy courses through Henry, and it made it feel like he could easily break his phone with a single clench of his fist.

Henry knew he could just walk home from the party and call his own driver, but… something was holding back.

This is a heinous night, he thought to himself glumly.

Around this point, it was eleven, and it seemed as if the party was just going through its second wave. Eventually, Henry got up and headed back into the airbnb, nearly bumping into a few people.

"Fuck you too, jackass!" Someone shouted to him, as he ambled through the thick patch of bodies.

Unsure why he even went back inside, Henry aimlessly strolled through the crowd, seeing how gross everyone's dancing was… it was a lot worse than homecoming dances, and those are cringey.

Someone's hoof stepped on his foot, causing him to stumble over himself in pain. Limping through the rest of the way, Henry made his way to where the kitchen would be, and from there it stunk of various aromas.

The kitchen wasn't crowded, but there were still people hovering around with drinks and chatting. Just annoying people in the way. He told himself that he wouldn't drink this time, though he found his hand digging through the melted cooler for a beer.

It was room temperature beer, but it didn't matter, he needed something to distract and loosen him up for a bit.

Straight from the can, Henry takes a lousy swig, seeing how no one was there to drink beside him. It tasted like crap, but he's tasted worse.

For the next half hour, Henry lingered in the kitchen, when he finished off two cans so far… fortunately, he ate something before he downed those two beers; unfortunately, it was almost three hours ago.

Yet, his stomach clenched and his throat was parched, and the dizziness set in.

Resting his eyes, Henry leaned against the sink of the kitchen, preparing for the worst of the storm. I don't like to think I'm a lightweight, but this fucking sucks… it's only two cans.

Trying to soothe himself, he grips him thumb in hopes to reduce the urge of wanting to vomit anytime soon. The music thumping sent the same vibrations to his head, worsening the effects.

He heard a familiar voice enter the kitchen, though it was drowned out by the party's ambience. Clenching his eyes, Henry's brain ran laps around his skull, not able to sit still.

"I'm telling you, it's just not fair," says a harsh voice, "I can't even spend time with him because he's with his 'girl'. I'm his best friend, damnit!"

That voice. 

Henry squinted his eyes, blurry figures were mobile blobs to him until he blinked a few times to refocus his vision. He saw similar ginger hair, and thought that it was Shade. Without any hesitation, Henry lumbers over and wraps his arms around the figure, words that manage to crumple from his mouth,

"Shade~ you were gone for such a long time!" Henry whines, having a good hold of the figure..

"Henry, get the hell off me!" A male voice barks out in confusion. 

Tripping backwards, Henry's eyes refocus,  fully recognizing the voice. Upon a clearer picture, he mistakes Nexus for Shade.

The orange cat held his ground and glared at him with a contorted stare… his other acquaintance hung beside him. 

"Oh God-" Henry gapes, attempting to blubber out, "Nexus, I'm so sorry, I thought you were Shade."

Instead Nexus grimaces, as if disgusted, only to murmur, "Whatever, dude. Just watch where you're going."

Henry lowers his gaze, his face hot with embarrassment… or from the intoxication.

Nexus' ear twitches, "Are you drunk or something?" His vibrant lime green eyes peer into Henry's soul.

It took Henry a second to properly respond, his mouth visibly stammering, but that gave Nexus his answer already.

"Hey, Nex, I gotta go…" The other kid next to Nexus frowns, gesturing over his shoulder, sending Nexus into a mild frenzy.

"Bro, really?" Nexus grumbles, angry.

The other guy hurries out, leaving just Henry and Nexus hanging about.

With an aggressive flick of his tail, Nexus sighs… going on to leave the room kitchen.

"W-Wait, Nex," Henry slurs, resulting in Nexus to whip around with an annoyed expression.

"What?" He hisses.

He's so hostile…

"Can I hang with you? Just-Just for a little while…?" Henry pleads, barely able to stand up straight, as he leaned against the counter. Nexus peers at him with a disdained glare, studying him up and down...

"You're not gonna throw up, are you?" Nexus muses, unrelated to Henry's question. 

"I dunno," Henry chortled, shrugging.

Idling in the archway, Nexus finally contemplated his thoughts before turning to his drunken companion. 

"Okay, you can chill with me," Nexus exhales, approaching him, "but don't do anything weird again."

This takes Henry back for a moment, as if he was jabbed with a pencil. Just as Henry was about to say something, Nexus waltzes back into the party area…

With an uneasy step, Henry follows after him into the crowd.

For however long they were on the dancing grounds, Nexus bopped with a few people he knew while Henry tried his best to fit in… though the pound of the music made him more queasy. His coordination when it came to dancing was awkward and trying at times, while Nexus and his other companions were "moving".

Dancing at this point was just simply jumping and swaying, but even Henry wasn't able to do it due to how the room was beginning to spin.

Everything was so loud.

His own thoughts were drowned by the blasting Post Malone song…

it made his head hurt, and his mouth began to gather up saliva.

The nausea had set in finally.

Henry started to sweat as he realized what was about to occur, but instead of drawing attention to himself, he bit his thumb in order to stop himself from potentially vomiting…

Nexus hadn't noticed Henry's ill expression, as he was trying to keep his mind in a different place. It was when the female he was dancing with taps him and inaudibly gestures to Henry, who had gained a headstart out of the crowd and exiting the room. 

Irritation drenches Nexus' face, as he dismisses it, glancing over to see Henry's figure disappearing from sight.

I have my own problems to deal with right now, Nexus scowls internally.

That's when it hit Nexus, like a wet sock.

He probably made Henry feel uncomfortable, and this caused him to leave. For a while, Nexus swayed on the thought of it… 

He's a big boy, he shouldn't have his feelings hurt.

The tense presence of guilt hovers over Nexus, despite trying to brush it off, but once the current song was over, he had swam through the heavy crowd of sweaty bodies.

Entering a corridor that connected to the living space, there were hazy clouds of various odors and smells, while couples made out on the side of the hallway.

Nexus knew where the nearest bathroom was, seeing there was a short line… not seeing Henry anywhere, Nexus just cuts to the front and pounds on the door with his hand.

"Henry, are you in there?" Nexus calls through the door, hearing muffled coughing from within.

The people waiting give Nexus dirty looks, as Nexus continues pounding, getting antsy himself. 

"Dude, please come out. A-Are you throwing up?" Nexus ignores the glares and just rests his ear on the door. 

"Someone's been in there for almost like ten minutes already…" said one of the people who waited in line.

With a nervous flick of his tail, Nexus grips the door knob to see if it were locked; it rotated fully. Holding his breath, Nexus pokes his head into the dimly lit bathroom and sees Henry sitting by the toilet, his head hung low.

"Ah shit," Nexus spats, hurrying over to the slumped figure of his friend. Is he that drunk? Nexus goes to check on him

"Henry!" He places a palm on his shoulder, resulting in Henry's muscles and body to contort in response, as he sat up in a frenzy.

Immediately, Nexus goes to settle down his dazed friend, seeing the genuine panic in his grey eyes; his face is red and puffy as if he were crying.

"Fuck, man," Henry groans, squeezing his temples, only for Nexus to stand up beside him and offer to help him to his feet.

Well, it didn't smell like vomit, Nexus though in relief, but he must've left just in case he did.

Slumping over Nexus' shoulder, Henry staggers on to his feet, leaving his supporting weight directly on Nexus; causing it to be rather difficult to even carry him.

With a hard grunt, Nexus manages to remain standing and soon help his drunk companion out of the bathroom. Not even bothering to look at the people waiting, they both head off to someplace a lot more quiet.

The side of the house where some of the bedrooms remained occupied for "various" reasons, but there was an area for the den…

People were going in and out, though for the most part, no one was there.

Nexus let Henry go, allowing him to plop onto the sofa, where he stayed silent.

Going to sit next to him, Nexus spreads out, a few feet from where Henry rested.

A heavy sigh slips from Nexus' nose, allowing himself to sink into the softness of the sofa.

There wasn't that much of an odor, other than cotton candy from a vape, but it was one of the calmest places of the airbnb.

Maybe they weren't allowed in here, but oh well, there wasn't a sign.

The house still shook from the music being played obnoxiously loud, only there being a certain amount of time until someone filed a noise complaint. 

Peering over, Nexus notices Henry's face in a serene state… still clenching his thumb as if his life depended on it.

Filling the silence, Nexus starts by saying,

"How much did you drink tonight?"

There was a delayed reply, when Henry lets out a bleak mumble, "One… tw-two? Probably."

Nexus examines him, seeing how Henry could pull off being sober, but now noticing how lifted off he was, it didn't seem possible. 

"Do you always get drunk?" Nexus was making conversation, not sure how he was going to respond.

Henry bobs his head side to side, rubbing the side of his face. 

"I don't like drinking…" He stifles slowly, his tongue twists over itself, "but I was feeling pretty…"

He doesn't finish his sentence as if he stopped himself…

Nexus starts anticipating,

"Feeling pretty what?"

Resting his head back, he gestures dismissively, "Forget- forget what I said… don't listen to me."

There was a forced chuckle from him, as he placed his palms over his face… 

Nexus was invested, seeing how strange he was acting. 

Henry's thoughts weren't his own, it felt like they could say something completely different. His thoughts were doing relay races, passing each of his emotions around like a baton…

"I dunno where my friends are," Henry whimpers aloud, spilling out nonsense, "I wish I didn't come here."

Nexus' ears twitch with intrigue, only for him to voice genuine concern,

"You didn't come alone?" Nexus questions, hoping he would comprehend what he said. 

"I didn't wanna say no," He pouts.

He's really off the rails, Nexus grimaces, I should help him calm down.

Nexus remembered the two people Henry hung around with constantly, Shade and Fikod… from what he gathered, they brought him along against his will?

Or so Nexus thought, at least.

He's barely able to say complete sentences, Nexus thought, or hold a conversation. I don't think I'll get anything out of him.

"Do you wanna go home?" Nexus asks simply, waiting for a response.

Instead of a straight answer, there were sniffles. 

Never in all the years Nexus had known him, he'd never seen Henry so distraught… or really cry. 

"Why do I feel so lonely here?" Henry croaks out through sniffles, taking his hands off his eyes. 

This struck a nerve in Nexus.

No, he thought, you aren't alone. You're surrounded by so many people… how can you be alone?

Without thinking, Nexus tugs on Henry's hoodie to bring him down to earth.

"Are you hearing yourself?" He spoke sternly, almost snatching Henry's attention.

"What's going on in that head of yours, bud?" Nexus stares him dead in his eyes… 

Henry's head sways, as his eyes met Nexus'. 

"I told youu," Henry whines, "not to worry about it…"

"You're so annoying!" Nexus lashes out, nearly yanking on his hoodie strings. "What the hell is going on with you? I get that you're drunk, but you keep saying these things and it's fucking annoying. What are these subliminal messages? Are you trying to get under my skin? Make me feel bad, is that it?" 

Having shaken him up, Henry's eyes were opened enough to see his pupils dilating, as Nexus fumes with agitation, his nose flares, and his brows furrowed in the dark. 

The bitter words Nexus spat was the product of pent up frustration from throughout the evening…

Brit had ditched Nexus to be with his girlfriend for the whole time, almost involving him as the third wheel. Seeing how much time Brit spends with her, Nexus felt casted aside, nearly a second thought as he was gradually losing his best friend over a girl.

Maybe it wasn't justified, or quite possibly childish for Nexus to have a fit, but he was just so angry over the treatment…

Brit and him had been through thick and thin for the longest time, but now it was tainted by Briana- "the love of my life" according to Brit.

Releasing his frustration on Henry was a mistake, seeing how it definitely shook him to his core. Nexus' chest had puffed up from the outburst, still having a tight grip around Henry's hood strings.

"N-Nexus, I…"

"Shut up." 

The hold of his hoodie strings loosened, Nexus' hand sank to his lap… as if he was overwhelmed by defeat.

The ginger cat's tail curls up, and his ears lower, leaving his expression solemn.

The way his own words left a sour taste in Nexus' mouth causes him to show regret.

There was silence that hovered over them, intensifying into something far more tense.

They had broken eye contact after the burst, but somehow faced each other… Nexus rested his eyes, closing them or a moment. 

Why did I say that? Since when did I become so harsh, Nexus scolds himself.

I'm just so done with everything that's happened tonight, I just want this to be over and done with now.

Even through the vibrant bass of the music that played, Nexus sensed an increased heartbeat… jumping up in anxiety.

Why is Henry so antsy all of a sudden? Nexus opens his eyes.

Henry had begun to pull in close towards his face, abruptly sending Nexus into surprise, only for his face to land on the crook of Nexus' shoulder; making it seem like he chickened out from something.

"What was that about?" Nexus croaks out, feeling sudden heat down his body. Henry shook his head, burying his face deeper into the side of Nexus' neck.

"I couldn't do it, I couldn't do it, I couldn't do it…" Henry murmurs under his breath, which Nexus clearly heard.

Instead of acknowledging it, Nexus just sat there with Henry slumped into his shoulder, with many thoughts facing through his brain.

Conflicted emotions, similar to the way he felt about Brit…

He weirdly enjoyed Henry's comfort, Nexus had a feeling that there was something more. A pair of Henry's arms had made its way around Nexus' waist, alerting chills up his spine.

What is this feeling? Nexus muses, the heat progresses to his face.

"First, you were crying," Nexus comments, "now you're being clingy?"

The way Henry's breathing brought up the feeling again made Nexus wanna squirm, yet continue along with this...

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson TEASER

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: abt 7k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison | full part drops at 8 pm EST

desc: from niccolò machiavelli to fernández de moratín, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, second semester seems well on its way to becoming your own personal inferno.

tags: tbd, but lmk if you want on the taglist

“THIS IS REALLY the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on your knee as she leaned toward you in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was genuinely excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyed were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an inquiring eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from his v-neck sweater to his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck.

"Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come over and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women.”

[ll-again]

Molly’s Type

Well, I’ve been writing intoxicated!lock so much, I thought Molly deserved a turn.

Sherlock stepped into the pub just as a rousing cheer went up among the patrons. Ignoring them, he glanced around the small seating area of the ignominiously named 'Fox and Hound'. Not finding the face he was seeking, a frown furrowed his brow with a duel bout of annoyance and concern.

"There you are."

That was not the voice he'd expected, but it was familiar, and Sherlock looked down into the face of the Indian woman who was Molly's particular friend. "Ah. Hello, um…"

She huffed. "Meena? We've met like eight times, for fuck’s sake. I just texted you."

"Right. Sorry," Sherlock said. He really hadn't read the signature on the text instructing him to come to the pub. "Molly's in the loo, then?"

"Molly," Meena said, pointing at the clump of rowdy patrons, "is over there." She hefted her purse strap higher on her shoulder. "Right, I'm off. I only stayed to make sure that Molly didn't go home with Olaf Petersen. She's just drunk enough to do something that stupid."

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably on his feet, staring at the crowd. He couldn't pick Molly out in the press of people, although he did determine that they were congregated around a smallish table.

"Well, he's a nice sort, I suppose. Bit dim, but that's Molly's type, isn't it?" Meena leaned in, jabbing him sharply in the arm with her finger. "Whatever you did, Holmes, fix it."

Sherlock winced and rubbed his arm, more out of guilt than pain.

"Bye now!" Meena said, flouncing off with a sarcastic wave.

Girding his loins, Sherlock picked his way through the pub to the most crowed and raucous part of it. As he'd feared, when he drew near he found that Molly was not among the onlookers, but was in fact sitting at the table across from a blonde man, both of them chugging a pint to the cheers and jeers of everyone watching.

"Ha!" Molly shouted, finishing first and balancing her empty pint glass upside down on her head.

The blond man – Olaf Petersen – burped most unbecomingly, and then slid bonelessly out of his chair, crumpling onto the floor. Sherlock, looking down at him, realized he knew the man. He worked in Barts' cafeteria and always gave Molly extra sausages so she would smile at him.

Sherlock hated Olaf Petersen.

The crowd was losing it, thrilled that the petite woman had out drunk a man at least three stone heavier than her. Sherlock scowled at another man who ventured too close to Molly, stopping him with an iron hand around his wrist. "Yes," he said loudly. "You have your winner. And now it's time for her to go home."

"Oh, hello," Molly said, drunkenly fluttering her lashes at him. She was swaying in her chair, and Sherlock dreaded getting her on her feet. "You look like my ex-boyfriend."

The crowd had largely dispersed now that the entertainment was over, but the few left lingering chuckled.

"Ex-fiance, axshully. We almost got married. He was nice. A bit dim. But that's just my type," Molly babbled. "He has a coat like that. An' your hair... no, he cut it. You look just like him." She blinked at him earnestly. "But, you're prettier."

Sherlock sighed. "Yes, thank you, Molly."

"Oh!" she grinned. "That's my name!"

"I know," Sherlock said, unable to stop his lips from quirking into a fond smile. He bent down, holding out a hand. "Come on. Let's get you home."

She leaned away from him, nearly toppling off the chair but catching herself with a hand on the table. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm waiting for my boyfriend."

He rubbed his hand over his face. "I'm your boyfriend, Molly."

"Noooo," she said, giggling. "No way."

"Is there a problem here?"

Sherlock glanced over at the man – sober, apron tied around his waist; clearly the owner of this establishment. He would have been gratified for his intervention under other circumstances, but at the moment, Sherlock just wanted to get Molly home with a minimum of fuss.

"No, of course not," he said with exaggerated patience. "She's just very drunk."

Molly chose that moment to take offense at his tone. "My boyfriend is coming to get me," she said to the publican. "Meena texted him."

"Right. Sir," he said to Sherlock. "Obviously, she doesn't want to go with you."

Sherlock threw up his hands. "Molly, tell the nice man that I am your boyfriend before he calls the cops."

Molly perked up. "I know lots of cops," she told the bartender, in confidence, loudly enough for most of the pub to hear. "I work at Barts. With the dead people."

The bartender smiled congenially at Molly and turned to Sherlock with far less humor. "Sir, you know I can't let you take her home."

Sherlock carefully stretched his mouth into a smile, albeit a pained one. "For the love of … I am Sherlock Holmes," he said, gritting his teeth for his next words. "Perhaps you don't recognize me without the hat."

"I believe in Sherlock Holmes!" Molly shouted, throwing one arm in the air for emphasis and leaning too far backwards, which toppled her right off her chair.

The bar hooted while Sherlock and the bartender winced, both of them crouching down to check on Molly. Luckily, it seemed she hadn't managed to hit her head, but Sherlock curled a hand around her skull to check anyway.

"Wow, you're gorgeous," Molly said with wide-eyed wonder as he leaned in. "I wish I had a boyfriend like you."

"And what's wrong with the one you have?" Sherlock said, mildly affronted.

Molly tried to whisper in his ear, but bumped her forehead against his temple. "He's a bit of a git."

Sherlock stood, helping her back into her chair. "I'm sure he's very sorry." An idea popped into his head, and he added, "Maybe you should call him. See what's taking him so long?"

"Oh no," Molly shook her head, regretted it, and made a face. "He prefers to text."

"Even so, I think he'll take your call."

It took Molly a moment of fumbling, but she did find the button for the phone app, jabbing at it until Sherlock's phone started to ring in response. He held it out to the bartender so he could see Molly's sunny face on the screen.

"I'll call you a cab," he said, blatantly relieved to have this sorted.

"Thank you," Sherlock replied with absolute sincerity, and answered his phone. "Molly, I'm right here."

"Oh!" she said, looking up at him, her own phone pressed to her ear. "You're my boyfriend!"

…

Molly moaned as she came awake, and the bed dipped in response. Warm lips pressed briefly against her pounding temple, before being replaced with a cool cloth.

"Morning. How do you feel?"

Molly pressed the flannel over her eyes. "Eurgh."

"As I expected," Sherlock said, pressing something to her lips. "Open up."

Molly parted her mouth to let him pop the painkillers in. Sherlock wrapped her free hand around a glass of water and she took a few sips, enough to swallow the pills anyway, before her stomach rebelled and she pushed the glass back at him. He took it away and stretched out on the bed next to her.

Gingerly, the flannel still plastered to her face, she rolled towards him. Sherlock removed the flannel, lifting her hair and folding it against the back of her neck instead, so she could lay her head on his shoulder without getting him wet. She hummed contentedly as Sherlock's arm slipped around her waist. "What happened last night?"

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "You were so pissed you didn’t recognize me. Then you compared me to Tom, just about convinced the publican to have me arrested as a sexual predator, and insisted that I wasn’t enough of a git, therefore couldn’t possibly be your boyfriend. Then, when you realized I was, you started crying. Very noisily, by the way."

Molly winced. "Out of joy, surely?"

"No idea. I had to tell the cabbie your cat just died. Pretty sure he thought you were being kidnapped."

Just the thought of getting up made her head throb, but Molly still had to ask, "Where is Toby?"

"Fed him. He's sleeping on the radiator." Sherlock's fingers danced over her shoulder. "Oh, also, you won your contest against the sausage man."

"The who..? Oh, you mean Olaf. Poor guy. I told him he didn't stand a chance. So did Meena." Molly rubbed her cheek against Sherlock's nearly washed to bits t-shirt. "What did I win?"

"Free drinks." And the git had the gall to chuckle when Molly groaned unhappily. Although he did slide a soothing hand down her arm and back up, digging his fingers into the perpetually tense spot on her shoulder. Molly melted against him.

They lay quietly for a minute, until Sherlock ventured to ask, "Are we still fighting?"

"I hope not," Molly said. "I hate when we’re fighting." Her head throbbed, as if in agreement.

Sherlock shifted to press his cheek against her crown. "I am sorry, Molly."

"I know." She twisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. "I forgive you."

"Just like that?" Sherlock said.

"Yeah." Molly found the dip of his bellybutton with her thumb. Sherlock jerked slightly in response, and she hid a smile against his collarbone. "It happened. It's over. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

They already had, anyway. Quite loudly on both sides.

"It won't happen again." Although he didn't say as much, his words were tantamount to a promise.

"I know." Molly shifted so she could tilt her head back and look him in the eye. "That's why I forgive you."

Sherlock buffered for a bit, until he shook himself and decided to take the win, leaning closer to brush his lips against hers. Molly's nausea chose that moment to assert itself, and she had to break away, hunching over with a groan. "Ugh, sorry," she said. "Sorry. Tummy."

Sherlock groped for the flannel, flapping it a few times to cool it down and refolded it at the back of her neck. Molly pressed her forehead against his shoulder, breathing through her nose as the nausea started to subside.

"Better?" Sherlock asked. His fingers trailed lightly along her spine, wanting to provide her some comfort, but also wary of wrapping his arm around her again, lest she needed to make a dash for the loo.

"Yeah," Molly said with a sigh.

"There's toast, if you-"

"No," she interrupted emphatically. "Um. Maybe in a bit."

"Okay." Sherlock carefully settled his hand on her shoulder again.

Molly relaxed into a contradictory state of miserably hungover while blissfully secure in her boyfriend's arms. She'd very nearly dozed off when memory reared its ugly head. "I threw up on your coat, didn't I?"

"Mm-hm," Sherlock said, surprisingly cheerful about it. "My coat. My lap. Your hair. My hair – still trying to work out how you managed that."

"Oh no," Molly said weakly, burying her face in Sherlock's chest.

"All over the backseat of the cab, really. I tipped our driver a hundred quid. Seemed the thing to do," Sherlock continued, stroking her hair absently while Molly writhed in embarrassment. "He said he'd never have guessed a little thing like you could hold so much liquid," Sherlock added with pride.

"I'm so sorry," Molly said, not daring to lift her head. "I'll pay you back. And for your dry cleaning."

"Not necessary," Sherlock said with his usual irritation any time she tried to pay for anything. (After they started dating, Molly had very quickly learned that the Holmes' were stupidly wealthy, which explained a lot, really.)

"Still…"

"Molly, it's fine," Sherlock said. "Anyway, I've rolled around in worse."

That was undoubtedly true.

"Go back to sleep," Sherlock rumbled gently, kissing the top of her head.

With her state of being tipping sharply towards the 'blissfully secure' end of the spectrum, Molly did just that.

[janeykath318]

[artificialqueens]

Not Afraid Anymore Chapter 6 (Pearlet) – Columbia

Hello loves, how is everyone? This chapter is a 6k mess of mixed emotions, Chinese takeout, Clueless, and something that might be considered both a good thing and a bad thing at the end ;-)))) But you’ll have to read it to know what I have in store.  I didn’t quite realise how much I had written until the counter thing at the bottom of my screen said page 8… so I hope you have time😊.  As always thank you so much for the lovely comments I have received so far, it really warms my heart; feedback and criticism is always welcome, as long as it is constructive of course.  I hope you enjoy!  Kisses xxx

A bright light shone in Pearl’s direction, her eyes squinting against the harshness.  She stood up from where she had sat on the side of the road and placed her hand in front of her face shielding her eyes.  The light turned off and she heard the sound of the door clicking open, before seeing a dark figure emerge.  “Pearl?” Violet’s soft, caring voice was like music to her ears.  She rushed over to her and wrapped her arms around the slightly taller girl’s shoulders.  It took a second before Violet responded, gently placing her hand on Pearls back and slowly stroking the end of her hair in an attempt to calm the now hysterical girl.  She sobbed into Violets neck and squeezed her eyes shut.  “Hey shh, it’s okay,” Violet whispered stroking the back of Pearls blonde curls. 

She rocked her from side to side slightly, eventually quieting the girl in her arms.  She could feel her heart aching at the sound of Pearls sobs; she didn’t know what Kurtis’ had done but it didn’t matter, not if he had hurt Pearl.  How dare he do this to her knowing she was such a kind-hearted person, with one of the purest souls Violet had ever had the pleasure of encountering.  Violet swallowed the lump in her throat and clenched her jaw in anger, before lifting Pearl’s head to meet her eyes.  They glistened with tears, the moonlight reflecting off of them.  She rubbed her thumb across Pearls cheek and caught the tears that were still involuntarily spilling. 

“Come on,” Violet said her hand sliding down Pearl’s arm to meet with her hand.  She lightly held her fingertips, before Pearl laced their finger together fully.  Although she was looking at Violet, her eyes were somewhere else, somewhere distant as if unable to be in this moment with her.  She walked to the other side of Violets car, which had its roof up this time, and sat down on the passenger’s seat.  “Pearl, you’re shaking,” Violet said after entering the car, her voice filled with concern.  Pearl stared down at her hands, a few tears dropping onto her bare legs.  Suddenly Violet got back out of the car and walked round to the back, before opening the trunk and retrieving an old blanket.  Once she was back in the car, Pearl was now sitting with one knee drawn to her chest, the other crossed beneath her.  Violet placed the blanket next to her “It’s not the cutest thing I own, but it comes in handy,” She explained trying to lighten the mood.  Pearl rested her head back and turned to look at Violet.  She whispered a small thank you and slowly began to wrap the rough material around her as Violet started up the car. 

They’d been driving for a while and Pearl still hadn’t said anything.  She’d stopped crying which was enough for Violet; she didn’t think she could bare to see Pearl be upset for much longer without tracking Kurtis down, and she still didn’t even know what had happened.  “I saw Trixie and Katya tonight,” Violet jumped a little as the silence boke.  “They were quite friendly with each other if I’m honest,” Pearl continued, still gazing out the window. 

“Friendly? How so,” Violet replied, trying to not seem a little impatient as Pearl changed the subject to avoid the elephant in the room, or more specifically the car.  “Well, Trixie kissed her so…” She trailed off expecting Violet to be as shocked as she was.  But Violet simply nodded and waited for Pearl to continue.  “Why aren’t you surprised?” She smiled a little at how calm Violet was, wondering how oblivious she had been and for how long.  Violet turned and smiled at her

 “Well, even from the first time I met them, they are just completely intoxicated by one another – especially Katya,” Pearl turned her head to Violet.  She couldn’t help but notice the way the corners of Violets lips were curving up whilst talking.  “I mean she’s completely smitten for Trixie and honestly, it’s refreshing seeing a relationship between two people nowadays, where there are genuine emotions involved,” She looked down a little, her eyes meeting with the steering wheel.  Pearl noticed her features turn quite solemn for a split second before she shook it off. “Damn I need to get laid,” She muttered under her breathe lightening the mood, and making Pearl let out a small giggle.

Violet turned to smile at the blonde when she caught her eye.  For a moment, she could see the Pearl she could recognise; but the shimmer left her eyes shortly after again.  “Can I ask you something?” Pearl asked.  Violet looked at her again and nodded before returning her eyes to the road.  “So, you and Danny…” She continued apprehensively.  Violet rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated groan, taking Pearl by surprise.  “I swear Pearl, that boy can’t keep his tongue in his mouth!” She shook her head and frowned a little.  “Sorry, continue,”

“I think my question was just answered actually,” Pearl let out a small breathy laugh and looked back down to her hand.  “You know he’s not that bad.  And you did just say you needed some action… All I’m saying is, I don’t know, maybe consider it?” She suggested, although phrased it more as a question.  “I don’t doubt he’s a good guy Pearl, in fact I think he’s super funny… most of the time,”

“Then why don’t you give him a chance?” She seemed to have a little more enthusiasm and character in her voice now, which settled Violet.  “Has he been speaking to you or something?” Violet sighed. 

“Maybe… but stop trying to change the subject!” Pearl looked over to her and raised her eyebrows. 

“Listen, Danny is great and all but… he’s… not my type,” Violet was struggling to phrase it.  She wasn’t uncomfortable with her sexuality, and she didn’t think she would struggle to talk about it until it actually came to telling her best friend.  Suddenly she was filled with fear because, well, she didn’t know if Pearl would be okay with it.  The fact that her two other female friends were dating each other boded well in her situation, but she knew what straight girls were like; the moment they found out she was into girls they treated her like she was some sort of predator, and that she’d jump at them at any point – which in this case was mildly true, but before anything else Pearl was her friend and that was more important than some crush. 

“Is it because he smokes weed? Because you know I do too,” Pearl said matter-of-factly.  Violet turned to her with a sarcastic expression on her face, as if she had said the most obvious thing in the world.  She smiled and bit her bottom lip.  “I’m just not into guys like him…” She began before taking a long breathe and continuing before Pearl could talk.  “Or guys for that matter,” He heart raced in anticipation.  She began to park her car on the edge of the road when Pearl replied.  “Oh…” That’s it? That’s all she can say?  “Listen–,” Violet began, before Pearl interrupted.

“Sorry I kept pushing it,” She said quietly looking at Violet.  Violets chest visibly deflated as she was washed with relief.  “Am I like a magnet for gay people or something? Because I mean first it was Katya, who to be fair is bisexual, and apparently now Trixie who I wouldn’t have suspected was gay and I’ve known her since we were little,” She began to come to life again, and Violet couldn’t help but smile and let out a little giggle at how confused Pearl was.  “And I just so happened to be the first friend you made when you got here so,” She was shaking her head in exaggerated confusion, her eyes wide and a smile growing on her face.  They both laughed at her for a moment before Pearl caught herself in the side mirror.

“Oh, my god! I look awful!” Pearl exclaimed and began trying to wipe away the damp black smudges that had formed beneath her eyes.  “Well at least we agree on one thing,” Violet muttered under her breathe.  Pearl let out a laugh, which was a lot for her seeing as no less than 10 minutes ago she was almost entirely unresponsive, despite Violets attempts as comfort.  “Do you want me to walk you in?” Violet asked sincerely.  Pearl gave her a soft smile before shaking her head lightly.  “it’s okay, I don’t really want my mom asking questions so I’ll probably just try and slip in as quietly as I can,”

She leaned over and gave violet a kiss on the cheek before wrapping her arms around her neck.  “Thank you, you didn’t need to come,” She whispered as if to keep her graciousness between them, even though there didn’t appear to be anyone around.  Violet hugged her back and leaned her head against Pearls affectionately.  “It’s not that big of a deal, really, I mean what’s the point of having a car if I don’t use it,” She laughed a little, thinking it was ridiculous that Pearl could ever think she wouldn’t want to help. “No but it’s more than that,” Pearl continued and pulled away to look Violet in the eye.  “You didn’t ask questions, because you didn’t need to! I will tell you… just not tonight.  I don’t want to ruin this moment,” Suddenly they were in Pearls room again and Violet was being brought back to 3 days ago.  All the emotions and tension between the two of them, engulfing the intimacy between them.  She moved one of her hand that was resting on Pearl’s waist and held onto Pearl’s arm, which was still draped lazily around her shoulder.  Her thumb slowly stroked along the girl’s skin as she contemplated what to do.  Pearl was right, it was too special of a moment to ruin with feelings getting in the way.  All she did was simply smile and winked at her before reminding her that her mom was waiting. 

Pearl leaning in and placed another delicate kiss upon the tip of Violets nose, making her lightly blush and giggle at how sweet it was.  “I’ll call you tomorrow okay?” Violet naturally nodded to Pearl, who had now gotten out of the car and was leaning down to look at her.  She closed the door and ran up to her house.  Before she entered she turned back and waved Violet off, signalling for her to drive away into the night feeling giddy with a concoction of happiness, relief, and slight confusion still. 

—–

Trixie was in Pearl’s room with her, as she had walked over to talk about what had happened the previous night.  Pearl was still wrapped up in her bedsheets, refusing to use Sunday as anything other than a day as complete comfort and relaxation.  In contrast Trixie was sitting upright in the desk chair, head to toe in pink (as usual), with a full face of makeup and her hair perfectly styled – despite it being 9 am. 

“So… You’re probably wondering why we didn’t tell you,” She seemed uncomfortable talking about it, almost as if she never wanted Pearl to find out.  “If it was up to me I’d have told you every detail, but for some reason Katya wanted to keep it under wraps,”

“You do realise you haven’t actually said it? I’ve kind of had to put two and two together,” She was annoyed, and rightfully so.  And to make Trixie feel even worse, wasn’t trying to keep it a secret.  Pearl sat up and looked at Trixie head on.  “Okay fine! Katya and I are… dating,” She sighed and flopped back onto the chair.  “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just… we didn’t know how you were going to react,” She gave a pleading look to Pearl, who still looked aggravated – whether from the situation, or the fact she had been woken up to talk about the situation, she couldn’t decide.  “Trix, I love you and Katya like you’re my fucking family members… I’m hurt you couldn’t trust me with this,”

They fell silent for a while, with Katya staring down at her nails before fiddling with them, and Trixie slumped in Pearls desk chair, gazing over to her.  “Pearl, you know it’s not…” She paused and leaned over to pull Katya’s hand apart in frustration.  “Stop, you know I hate it when you do that! You’ll ruin your nails,” Trixie exclaimed and Pearl laughed a little with Trixie soon joining.  “So… are we cool? Please say we are,” Pearl rolled her eyes comically before nodding. 

“Sure, just please don’t keep something as big as this from me again, because it sucks,” Trixie nodded before announcing she had to leave and gave Pearl a hug.  “Damn Pearl, I love you but you need to go shower,” She said in disgust before pulling away and contorting her face.  Pearl frowned in offense before swatting Trixie’s arm.  “What?! So now you want me to keep things from you?” She said laughing.  “Later Pearl,” When she had left, Pearl fell back onto her bed again and picked up her phone. 

From: Violet 💜

Hey Pearl, I just wanted to say thank you for last night – For being so accepting that is.  I’ve had difficult experiences with this stuff in the past, to say the least.  And of course, you didn’t have to be that kind with it but you were and having my best friend give that response means a lot more to me than I will show.  It’s currently 12:30 and it’s on my mind so I felt it was only appropriate to thank you, as I’m not sure I’d be able to articulate it quite as well if it were in person (Not that I’m doing that good of a job over text either!).  Also, if on the odd chance I have to beat up Kurtis, I have a pair of heels I’ve been meaning to get rid of and they’d make the perfect weapon… just saying😉 xxx

Before Pearl knew it, she was texting back, purely typing out of instinct. 

To: Violet 💜

Do you want to come to mine today? We could just chill and watch movies all day, I think my mom got called into work this morning, so she’ll let me order takeout.  It’s cool if you don’t want to or you have plans… I just really want to see you xxx

She didn’t know what it was, but she felt comforted whenever she was with Violet; way more than she did with Kurtis last night, and even sometimes Trixie and Katya – especially now that they were a couple.  And her heart was still swelling from the sincerity within Violet’s message.  It made her curious, though, as to what she was referring to when she spoke about her past.  No matter how desperate she was to know, she knew she shouldn’t ask her out of respect particularly after the way Violet was last night. 

She had heard her mom get up earlier than she usually did and there’s the faint memory of her saying goodbye, but she couldn’t be sure because she was still a little half asleep.  She rubbed her eyes and looked around her room at the bombshell that had gone off last night.  Her clothes were scattered across the room, her skirt however was neatly folded on her desk chair, presumably by Trixie.  She sighed as she saw her converse thrown to the side, and remembered she’d left her boots in Kurtis’ car.  Perhaps she could speak to him tomorrow about everything; the more it played on her mind the stupider she felt.  Shaking her from her frustrated thoughts was a buzz she heard from her phone beneath the covers. 

From: Violet 💜

THANK GOD YOU ASKED ME THAT!!! I need to get away from my dad, if I have to hear one more lecture about college I’m going to scream xxx

To: Violet 💜

You only have like a few more months left, right? Xxx

From: Violet 💜

Yeah, but at this rate, I’ll probably get held back a year I’m so behind on everything… your school goes in hard!! xxx

To: Violet 💜

Okay ew, can we stop talking about school? Just get your butt over here, I need hugs xxx

Pearl sighed at the thought of Violet leaving after knowing her for such a short time.  She wasn’t sure if the feeling was returned, but she was so drawn to her in a way that she’d never felt with anyone before.  It kind of scared her, sure, and she prepared herself for the worst many times; Violet going off to a college in another state, and forgetting all about their short interaction with each other.  She knew she was being silly, of course, with only knowing the girl for such a short space of time.  Before she could worry even further she heard the doorbell ring.  Damn, that was fast!

She looked in the mirror before running her fingers through her tousled curls.  She wasn’t sure why she was trying to improve her appearance, she’d literally drooled in front of Violet before so it’s not like she’d keeping up impressions.  She ran down the stair and pulled her shirt a little further over her shorts so her thighs were mostly covered.  When she opened her door, expecting those warm eyes and dark red lips, but was met with silence she was a little startled.  She looked around to see if she could spot the phantom knocker but there was nothing.  Just as she was closing the door she noticed a flash of red in the corner of her eye.  She opened the door again and looked down to find the bear from last night perched on top of a slender box, and her shoes with a note leaning against it. 

Her heart raced a little as she quickly gathered her things from the doorstep and retreated back inside.  Pearl placed her shoes by the door step and the rest of the gifts on her kitchen counter and just stood there to try and calm her breathing.  It wasn’t the kind of breathing you got when you were excited, or nervous even – she was feeling panicky and she wasn’t sure why.  She didn’t want to admit it but she was scared to see him again.  She didn’t want to feel like she did last night, she didn’t want to have to think about it, about the thoughts that ran through hr mind or the way his eyes were filled with animalistic hunger and not passion or care – she just didn’t want to! She closed her eyes but was startled by the doorbell again. 

Pearl gingerly walked over to the door and took a few deep breathes before turning the handle only to be met with what she was hoping for, the first time.  Violet was standing there with a small smile on her face, and a dangerous amount of chocolate in her hands.  “I though seeing as you were providing the main course, I’d bring dessert,” She laughed a little before her smile dropped.  “Pearl are you okay?” Pearl nodded a little before smiling.  She felt herself deflate a little with relief as she pulled Violet into a hug and lead her inside.  She knew she wasn’t very convincing but Violet wasn’t going to ask questions. 

“If I’d have known you were still in your pyjama’s I wouldn’t’ve bothered getting changed! I literally only put on clothes for this so you better be grateful,” Pearl noted that Violet did look quite casual today, with her usual dark eyes and red lips swapped for a semi-bare face, and her hair was up in a ponytail and her baby hair were carelessly falling from the loose restraint.  “You can borrow some of mine if you need to,”

“Are you sure you’re alright? I’m sorry if I sound forward but you just seem kind of… distracted,” Pearl shook her head a little and looked down before groaning and walking into the kitchen.  Violet followed her quickly and straight away noticed the presents she had received.  “Ooooh who’s the lucky lady?” She said picking up the bear.  “Me apparently, they’re from Kurtis,” She replied with little enthusiasm before jumping up and sitting on the counter top.  Violet immediately tossed the toy onto the side with a look of disgust.  She was mildly happy that she now had a reason to visibly hate Kurtis, even if she didn’t know what that reason was.  “You didn’t have these with you last night?”

“Yeah, I think he dropped them at my doorstep a little before you got here,” Pearl sighed again, as Violet hopped onto the counter next to her.  “You wanna talk about it yet? If not I can totally continue blindly hating him, like, that’s not an issue,” Pearl laughed a little and shook her head, heaviness suddenly engulfing her chest.  She began to retell the event that had happened last night, becoming more uncomfortable by the second but she knew she had to do it. 

When she had finished, Violet put her hand on Pearls knee comfortingly but she couldn’t help but notice the way it immediately calmed her.  “Pearl I… I don’t know what…” Violet looked just as heartbroken as Pearl did last night.  “It’s okay I don’t expect you to.  I know I made a big deal out of nothing, and I’m being such a baby reacting like this… It’s… It’s dumb, forget it ever happened,” She dismissed it and jumped off the counter.

“Wait, Pearl you’re kidding, right?” Violet frowned at the blonde in confusion and a little frustration.  “Don’t you dare say you were being stupid for wanting boundaries! He is in the wrong here – he’s the one who pushed you, he’s the one who didn’t consider how you were feeling, HE’S the one who’s a complete dick for what he did!” Her voiced had unconsciously risen a little, and Pearl began cowering back a little.  She immediately felt guilt wash over her whole body.  Her palms began to sweat and her eyes glazed over with tears at seeing how she had made Pearl so scared.  “Oh my god what’s wrong with me,” She said under her breathe.  “Pearl I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to get that angry I just… Guys like him don’t deserve the kindness you have, and it pisses me off because he’s gonna go through life thinking he can get everything,” She moved towards Pearl and held both of her hands.  “Sorry doesn’t even cover what just happened to be honest… I shouldn’t have reacted so harshly and insensitively and…”

“What?” Pearl looked up to meet with Violets eyes after she didn’t finish her sentence. 

“Just please forgive me… I don’t want you to think you can’t tell me shit like this because of how I’ll react I just… I didn’t trust him and I was so hoping I’d get proven wrong because I saw how much you liked him,” Pearl smiled a little before taking Violet’s hands and wrapping them around her back before she did the same around the brunette’s shoulders.  “Can we order food now,” She heard Violet whine from beneath her, as she leaned her head against the other girl’s. 

—-

45 minutes later their food had arrived.  “Where do you want to eat?” Pearl said before interrupting the girl before she could answer “Oh! Wait! I want to show you something… oh and bring the chocolate,” She said with excitement before running up the stairs with their Chinese food in hand.  Violet quickly followed, arms full of chocolate. 

“Okay so this is kind of more my meditation spot, but I guess we can eat Chinese food and watch trashy movies here as well!” She held Violets hand and led her through to her room.  “I don’t get it?” She said staring around her room.  Pearl ignored her and stood on her bed, before pulling up her blinds and opening the window.  “Come on,” She said beckoning her forward, as she was perched half in and half out of the window.  Violet hesitantly followed and was shocked at how set up everything was.  On top on the roof was a blanket rolled out, with fairy lights, much like the ones in Pearl’s room, hanging across the walls. 

She watched as Pearl went over to retrieve a basket full of what appeared to be more blankets and too many cushions to count before scattering a few without order across the roof.  “I don’t show a lot of people this, so you should feel honoured,” She said before leaning back into her room and retrieving her laptop, and then dragging her duvet through the window pane with slight struggle.  She spread it out across the ‘floor’ on top of the blanket which already out, and perched herself on it with her laptop in front.  “Okay, what movie do you want?” She asked looking up at violet who was still a little taken aback by Pearl’s secret escape.  “Umm,” She thought, before sitting down beside her and reaching over to grab her noodles.  “I think, in the spirit of being teenage girls in high school, the only obvious choice would be Clueless,” She continued with a sly grin.  Pearl giggled agreeing enthusiastically with her friend before setting it up. 

—–

Almost 2 hours later and the entirety of their Chinese food completely gone, the two girls were now snuggling up beneath the blankets the sun beginning to set around them and the light of Pearl’s laptop shining onto their faces.  “I’m telling you, I’m going to bring the phrase ‘totally buggin’ back!” Pearl exclaimed giggling.  Her and Violet were now lying down facing each other, their heads rested on a stack of cushions.  “I just can’t see it!” Violet replied stubbornly trying to fight the smile that was tempting her. 

Pearl had brought the covers up to her nose to try and hide her grin, and although perhaps it was too much for Violet’s heart to handle, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.  Before she could process it, Pearl pulled her whole under the covers and leaned forward to rest it on Violets chest, beneath her chin.  Violet felt her shaking slightly and she began to worry, fearful to meet with teary eyes but soon heard small giggles.  She soon found herself involuntarily joining in, not sure what they were laughing at, but couldn’t control the giggles erupting from her mouth. She rested her head on top of Pearl’s and closed her eyes, still laughing, before reaching her hand to link with Pearl’s under the blanket.  This is what it should be like, she thought, this is what Pearl deserves – to be happy, filled with unexplainable laughter.  The thought of her feeling anything else made her heart ache. 

“Hey Pearl?” She said after a while.  Pearl poked her head up, to look at Violet.  They were extremely close now, and she could see the different slivers of brown in her eyes.  Some of Pearl’s blonde locks had been swept across her face, so she tried to blow them out of her face before eventually giving up, causing Violet to laugh again.  “Why are we laughing?” She said snorting.  Pearl shook her head and smirked before burring her face back into Violets chest.  “You tell me, I’m in a weird mood,” She sighed against Violet’s bare neck, causing goose bumps to raise.

She noticed how fast Violet’s heart was beating under her cheek, and was curious as to why hers was matching.  Her mind shot back to the previous night, and how she was in a similar position; pressed up against someone, sharing breathe with racing pulses.  Except this time, she wasn’t scared… she wasn’t filled with anxiety and panic and she wasn’t overthinking every move; it was natural for her.  Perhaps it’s just because we’re friends, she thought trying to avoid the obvious questions clawing at the back of her mind.  She shut her eyes, trying not to focus on the moment, rather than the confusing herself further than she already was. 

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question,” Violet said breaking Pearl from her thoughts.  She looked up again but in confusion this time.  Violet brought their hands up from under the blanket and fiddled with Pearl fingers slightly, making her chest feel light as if filled with everything soft in the world.  “You’re always in a weird mood, so like,” She said with a smirk, concentrating on the other girl’s hand.  Pearl suddenly started giggling quietly again to which Violet responded with an overexaggerated eyeroll.  “I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult!” Pearl continued. 

Violet looked up from their hands to connect with her eyes before saying flatly “Both,”.  Pearl giggled more and somehow managed to get even closer to Violet, draping her arm across the dip in her waist; as if it was second nature.  She couldn’t avoid the fact that it felt so natural to be in this position with Violet, and she didn’t know whether that should be something playing on her mind or not.  When she had calmed down, she finally decided to speak; not being someone to usually beat around the bush. 

“Vi can I talk to you about something?” She asked in a quiet voice.  Violet nodded a little, noticing how gentle and small Pearl had suddenly become.  “Okay, just please don’t freak out, or get scared… please,”

“Of course… Pearl what is it?” the tone had suddenly gotten serious, and Pearl had moved her glance away from Violets eyes.  “Okay so last night,” She said before sitting up, and pulling a blanket up to wrap around herself.  “When he kissed me… I like, didn’t feel anything,” She began to speak with so much hesitation, as if she was ashamed of her confession.  “Like obviously, it was good… I guess but-,”

She stopped and looked down at Violet who was leaning on her elbows looking up at her.  The curve of her breasts becoming more evident as the tight restraints of her shirt were being tested.  Pearl couldn’t help but let her eyes and her mind wander.  She looked at the way Violet’s lips naturally pouted and wondered what it would be like to kiss them; would they be soft, or would Violets easy dominance come through.  She wanted to feel them on her own, and she wanted to know what I felt like to let them roam around her body. She wanted to feel Violets careful hands feel every inch of her and she wasn’t afraid to admit that to herself.  It was strange – she could see herself becoming more comfortable with it ever since she had met the girl.  Pearl felt kind of stupid for taking so long to realise; she’s been fascinated with Violet since day one… and she was now realising why, no matter how much she tried to push it down and think about Kurtis. 

Her graceful curls tumbling down her back leaving her clavicle bare.  Pearl wanted to run her hair through the dark waves, caress the back of her neck.  Her breathe was getting faster, and was caught in her throat. 

“But what, Pearl?” Violet’s gentle voice broke her from her daydream.  She swallowed the lump in her throat before looking at her hands again, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket.  “I couldn’t put my whole self into it, you know? I felt like I was doing it more for him, to prove a point and to get over this stupid feeling of being a loser just because I’d never kissed anyone,”

“So you didn’t like it? Is that what you’re worried about?” Violet asked, now sitting up to face Pearl. 

“It’s more of, why didn’t I like it,” She began, “Like, I was on a date with the most popular guy in school, and he was totally lovely, and sweet and considerate and kind, and all I was thinking about was when was it going to become fun; like the way everyone else describes it,” She looked up at Violet who was still a little perplexed.  “And then I called you…” She trailed off moving a little closer “And you took all the anxiety and self-deprecation away from me, and you made me feel calm and relaxed because I was being myself, and I didn’t have to impress you because… you already liked me for me,”

They were unbearably close by now, and Pearl’s heart raced just like it had the night before, except this time, it wasn’t caused by worry but more excitement and anticipation. 

“And I couldn’t help but notice how much more happiness and comfort I felt just now… being close to you,” She said barely above a whisper. 

Violet’s head was spinning.  It was just like it had been a few nights before and Violet was preparing herself for a let down again, despite all that Pearl had said.  She could feel Pearl’s shaking breathe upon her skin, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how worked up she was getting.  She felt Pearl’s cold hand slip into her own, and glanced down at Pearl’s lips.  “Vi…” She whispered, Bringing the other girls eyes back to reconnect with her own.  “Kiss me…” She breathed out, placing her other hand on Violet’s arm as if to steady herself. 

Violet made sure to do it slowly, so that she could savour every part of this; the thing she had been anticipating since the first time she saw Pearl.  She gripped Pearl’s hand a little tighter before lightly touching their lips together to begin with.  It wasn’t until Pearl was the one to make a more forceful response, that Violet knew it was okay to continue.  Pearls lips were soft and they melded well against Violets plump one’s.  Pearl let go of Violets arm, before moving her hand to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.  Their mouths moved together in a delicate serenity. 

Pearl’s heart was beating too fast for her to be paying attention to it, as she felt Violets hand move around her waist and squeeze slightly before moving to her back.  Violet began to pull them closer together, before Pearl responded by straddling Violets lap, still holding onto Violets shoulder and gripping her hand, refusing to let go.  She was taken aback slightly at how comfortable she was with Violet, considering the night before she was in a similar scenario yet felt the need to escape. 

They pulled apart after a while to catch their breath.  Pearl rested her head against Violet’s as she stroked her dark hair away from her blushing face.  She tried to comprehend what had happened but she was so overwhelmed with happiness and a little bit of guilt that she couldn’t help but bite her lip back in an attempt to tame her giddy smile. 

Violet had no hesitation as a toothy grin spread across her lips.   “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to do that,” She whispered, letting out a giggle before caressing her hand from Pearls back to the top of her thigh, just below her hip.  Pearl grinned back and kissed the tip of Violets nose, just like she had done the night before except this time allowing a much-needed feeling of joy to spread across her chest. 

[ravengirl94]

Imagine: Telling Jensen about your kid

Summary: You surprise Jensen with some interesting news at a convention. Luckily he wants to meet your child, and the two of you have a chance to reconnect

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2,600

Warnings: awkwardness? an illegitimate child? surprise pregnancy

A/N: This is for a request from the lovely @bluebell013. I’m pretty sure I took it in a different direction than you were thinking, but I hope you like it! Sorry if it’s messy. My sick brain did the best it could with editing. Also... this is my first Jensen imagine and I’m kind of nervous about it. Feedback is appreciated!

Your palms were sweating.

You wiped them against your jeans and rocked on your heels a little, trying to calm down. A couple deep breaths helped, but you were still shaking as the line continued to creep forward. No one paid any attention to you, no one spoke or commented that you looked nervous, because everyone's attention was fixed on the three men sitting at the table up ahead. The convention was packed, hundreds if not thousands of Supernatural fans there just to see them, to glimpse their idols just for a moment. You were in the autograph line, but you weren't holding a picture of Sam or Dean, or some other piece of memorabilia. You were holding a picture of your son.

Just then Jensen laughed, the sound sending a jolt through you. God he had a gorgeous, intoxicating laugh. He threw his head back, white teeth flashing and green eyes sparkling, making your skin feel hot. It felt like a lifetime ago that the two of you had met. It was sort of a running joke among your friends, who didn't believe that you'd actually spent the night with Jensen Ackles. That is, until two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test. To be fair, you hadn't exactly been sure it was his. That was, until your son was born with those striking green eyes and looked exactly like his father. At that point, it felt like it was too late. He was a celebrity, how were you supposed to find him, let alone tell him oh hey I'm pretty sure I bore your illegitimate child? It was just too ridiculous.

Life hadn't exactly been easy as a single mother, but you were managing just fine on your own and Ross was your whole world. You had a decent apartment not far from your parents, who were more than willing to help you. A nice girl down the hall babysat for you while you were at work. You hadn't gone to that convention to extort him, to demand money or… anything really. You just figured the man had a right to know. So you stood in that line, hands shaking as it slowly crawled towards your little boy's father.

Jensen's eyes locked onto the next person in line, and he frowned. Your hair was down, falling in soft waves over your shoulders, eyes dark with worry. You looked anxious, but something about your face made him pause. He knew you. One of your hands twitched up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and the memories came flooding back.

"Y/N," he said, grinning up at you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth dropping open in surprise.

"You remember my name," you said. It wasn't a question.

"I remember a lot more than that," Jensen replied, that cocky grin remaining plastered to his face. He'd been lonely lately. Maybe the stars had aligned and brought you back to him at the opportune moment. There was something about you that made him never forget you, his mind drifting to your night together occasionally. In another life, you might have been the one. You were sweet but sassy, a fun and intelligent girl that he could actually have a conversation with. He was pretty sure he'd been in love with you.

Your mouth quirked into a little frown at his words, making him pause. Maybe the two of you wouldn't be having a happy reunion. But then why were you here? His answer came quickly as you extended a photo towards him, your hand shaking slightly.

"He's yours," you said in a low voice, glancing around worriedly, "his name is Ross."

Jensen froze when you handed him the picture, paling noticeably as you said the words. He stared down at the photo, the most recent one you had. Ross was three now, and that grin paired with those green eyes made him look so much like his father it was hard to miss. Your heart was beating out of control so that your chest was pounding, your hands shaking and knees weak. You had imagined this moment thousands of times over the years, but this was too real, too scary.

"I don't want anything from you. I just… you had the right to know," you said hurriedly, glancing around uneasily. You hadn't wanted to do this in a public place, but there weren't exactly many options. Nearby, Jared had paused his own conversation with a fan, looking at Jensen in concern.

Jensen seemed almost shaken awake at your words, his eyes snapping back up to you. There were too many emotions there to read, but mostly he looked shocked. He looked back down at the picture and ran a hand through his hair quickly.

"Can…" he began, his voice catching, "can I meet him?"

You'd imagined this moment over and over, but you'd never expected this reaction.

"You want to?" You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself. Tears jumped into your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. Jensen jerked to his feet so fast he nearly knocked his chair over. Silence fell almost immediately, all eyes on him.

"If… if that's okay, yeah," he said earnestly. All you could do was nod, unable to speak as the threatening tears clogged your throat. Jensen turned to Jared, grabbing his arm. You couldn't hear their conversation, but between all the whispering and glancing at you, Jensen likely told his best friend plenty. Finally he came back to you, the photo of your son still clutched tightly in his hand. "I… As much as I want to run out of here right now, I should stay. I'll finish up here, then… then can I call you?" You nodded again, biting your lip. It was the best plan of action, since there would likely be a riot if he left right then. You wrote down your number quickly on a piece of paper he had handy, sliding it across the table to him. "Can I keep this?" He asked, holding up the photo. There was a touch of panic in his voice, concern that you'd walk away and he'd never see his little boy.

"Yeah. Tonight is fine if you want to… you know," you said, managing to find your voice. Jensen's face broke into a relieved smile, and he grabbed your hand, squeezing gently.

"Thank you," he whispered, emerald eyes sincere. You just nodded before turning and walking away, head spinning. You bee-lined straight outside, collapsing onto a bench before your knees gave out and taking big gulps of cold air. You'd done it. You'd actually done it. You'd told Jensen Ackles about your son. And he was going to come meet him tonight.

The thought sent a wave of panic through you, and you shot to your feet. Jensen was coming to your apartment in mere hours, which meant you desperately needed to clean. Everything.

Luckily tidying up kept you mildly occupied, and Lauren, the babysitter, offered to entertain Ross at her apartment down the hall while you worked. You picked up all the baby toys, vacuumed the whole place, scrubbed the kitchen and organized until the apartment looked so good, you hardly wanted to live in it for fear of messing it up. But that was unavoidable with a toddler. Your phone buzzed on the counter halfway through your aggressive cleaning rampage, and you snatched it up so fast you almost dropped it.

Should be done here in a few minutes if you're still okay with me coming over

You shot back a quick text with your address as well as a reassurance that it really was okay for him to come meet his own child.

Is it okay if I bring Jared? He can wait outside if you want.

You bit your lip at the most recent text, but if Jensen was coming, why not Jared too? They were best friends, and Jensen likely wanted a little support for this meeting. So you told him it was fine, and continued frantically preparing for his arrival.

Panic flared through you when you heard the quiet knock on the door and you hastily straightened your shirt and ran a hand through your hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door to a nervous Jensen.

"Hey," he said, eyes searching your face. You glanced behind him to Jared, who gave you a kind smile.

"Hey, come in," you said, stepping aside and ushering them into the apartment, "can I get you anything to drink?" You asked as the two men hovered in the entryway. Jensen was looking around anxiously, obviously searching for Ross. "He's over at the neighbors. I figured we could talk, and then I could go get him." Jensen visibly relaxed, and at your insistence, the two men sat on your sofa.

"So, umm…" you began awkwardly, unsure how to have this conversation.

"How old is he?" Jensen asked instead, "he's gotta be what, around three?"

"Yeah, three and a half next month," you said softly, watching Jensen's face for any hint of what he was thinking, "and listen, I meant what I said. I don't want anything from you, I don't expect money or anything. We do just fine…"

"But I'm his father," Jensen said, a sudden fierceness in his eyes, his voice gruff, "why didn't you tell me? I would have… I would have been there."

"I didn't know, Jensen I'm sorry. I never imagined you'd want anything to do with us," you admitted, staring down at your hands. When you finally glanced back up, Jensen looked pained, and Jared had a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, I'll go get him, alright? I'll be right back."

You hurried down the hall, knocking quickly on Lauren's door. She opened it almost immediately, Ross perched on her hip.

"Hey there little man! Did you have fun with auntie Lauren today?" You asked, pulling your son into your arms.

"We went to the playground and then he had a nice long nap," Lauren said, smiling fondly at Ross. She really was a fantastic sitter.

"Thanks so much Lauren. Is it okay if I pay you tomorrow?" You asked, glancing back towards your own apartment where Jensen and Jared were waiting.

"Yeah that's fine Y/N, no rush you know that," Lauren said, "have a good night."

"You too!" You called, hurrying back towards your apartment. But before you opened the door, you paused and looked to Ross. "Hey sweetheart, there's somebody I want you to meet, okay? He's really nice."

"Is he your friend, mommy?" Ross asked, emerald eyes intent on you.

"Yeah sweetie, he is. You ready?" Ross nodded, and you opened the door.

Jensen shot to his feet as the door opened, his eyes immediately falling on the little boy in your arms. He looked a lot like both of you - Your mouth and nose, his hair, but those eyes… they were his. He was frozen as you approached, setting Ross down where he clung to your leg, staring up at him and Jared with wide eyes.

"Ross, these are my friends Jensen and Jared, can you say hi?" "Hi," the little boy said, smiling shyly.

"Hi there Ross," Jensen said, feeling faint.

"Maybe you can show him your trucks. What do you think?" You asked, looking down at him. Ross nodded excitedly, running over to snatch Jensen's hand. His heart panged as he grabbed two of his fingers - all he could get his little hand around - and pulled him towards the next room.

"I never meant to hurt him," you whispered, tearing your gaze from father and son to look at Jared, "I just didn't know what to do. Is he mad?"

"I think he's just shocked," Jared said after a moment, "he never shut up about you, you know."

"Me?" You asked, raising your eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah. He was really hooked on you. I can see why," Jared said, making you blush. "He'll take care of you two, I hope you know that."

"We don't need anything from him," you began, shaking your head slightly.

"I know. But do me a favor and let him? That's his boy. He's going to want to be a part of his life. He'll want to help," Jared said seriously, that little line forming between his eyebrows as he looked at you.

"Of course," you said quietly, turning back to watch the two of them playing. Jensen was building a fire station for Ross's trucks using some blocks nearby. You thought Ross might jump out of his skin he was so excited. The two of them together made you smile. Jensen looked so at ease down there on the floor playing trucks with his son, and your shy little man had opened up to a stranger faster than ever. It was remarkable, and part of you hoped Jensen would want to be a part of his life.

A few hours later, the four of you sat in the living room. You'd thrown together a quick dinner with help from Jensen, while Jared kept Ross occupied. It was nice to talk to him, to be doing something so normal and mundane. He did want to help out, and asked if he would be able to see Ross more often. You were more than happy to agree.

The little guy was sound asleep against Jensen on the couch, a truck still gripped in his tiny hand.

"So you named him Ross..." Jensen mused, a wry smile on his face.

"I've always liked the name," you teased, eyes drifting to your son. Jensen followed your gaze, and his expression softened.

"He's certainly a cute one."

"Takes after his father," you said, flashing him a grin.

"More like his mother," Jensen said quietly, something shifting in his eyes as he looked at you.

"Well, we should probably get going," Jared interrupted, standing and stretching. "Thank you for having me, Y/N. Dinner was delicious. I'll meet you in the car, Jay," he said, waving at you to sit back down before he saw himself out.

"He's a good friend," you said quietly, feeling the suddenly tense atmosphere now that Jared was gone.

"He is," Jensen agreed, easing Ross up into his arms without waking him. You both stood awkwardly, and then Jensen carefully passed Ross over to you, clearly reluctant to let the little boy go.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

"No," Jensen stopped you, shaking his head, "thank you. I mean it. I might have never even known about him, but you decided to share him. It means a lot that you'd let me know our son." His green eyes were so sincere, and he seemed so happy. You had just turned his world upside down and he was thanking you. It was certainly not what you'd expected, so you just nodded, trying to keep the tears from your eyes.

Jensen placed a gentle hand against the side of Ross's head before leaning in to kiss his forehead. Then he surprised you by brushing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Would you... Well, would you want to get dinner sometime?" Jensen asked, shocking you for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. "Without Ross, I mean." He sounded nervous, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Like a date?" You whispered.

"Exactly like a date," he said with a sly grin.

"Yeah, Jay, I'd love that."

This time when Jensen leaned in, his lips found yours, giving you a quick but passionate kiss. Then he was strolling down the hallway, hands in his pockets and whistling cheerfully.

A/N: Now I’m off to watch the patriots game...

Tags: @avengers4thewin @emoryhemsworth @ashleygee16 @dekahg @eileenlikesyou-maybe @fandommaniacx @angelwingsandsupernaturalthings @supernatural-jackles

[mlw10]

So... I Lied...

Here it is everyone, my first fanfic. Bear with me as I’m just getting started so things may be incredibly cliche and maybe not the best they could be, but honestly I’m just proud of myself for putting this out there. The HP community is so supportive and I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do that without all of the lovely people out there, so thank you :)

You can read it below or here.

Hope you enjoy!!!

Prologue

Small lights began floating in the air as the sun set, a dim brightness settling on the patio. Several of the tipsier guests swat at the lights as Sirius Black, best man extraordinaire, rose from the wedding party’s table.

Raising his glass, he began, “So… I lied…”

Remus stood abruptly, his chair squealing. “I was actually the initial liar!”

“Me too!” hiccupped Peter as he hastily stood to be included. Unfortunately, he also knocked over the champagne glass of the woman sitting to his right.

Sirius, mildly irritated that his two friends thought it fit to be a part of his moment, interrupted, “Excoooose me! This is my best man speech, and I would prefer it to be uninterrupted.”

Lily and James laughed, unsure as to where this speech was going. They knew it couldn’t be too awful since Sirius was a softy, but that also meant he could not handle his liquor and many sorts of things tended to spill out whenever he was slightly intoxicated.

“Fine, Sirius, be the drama queen. But please give me the credit I deserve in this story,” huffed Remus.

“Yes yes, Moony, will do will do. Now, on to the juicy bit: we, and by ‘we’ I mean me, Moony — there’s your credit, happy? — Wormy, Mar, and Mary, were far from oblivious to Lily and James’s burning desire to snog each other in a broom cupboard. In fact, we plotted the whole thing.” Sirius slid across the dance floor, and with a spin said, “Buckle up children! Reminisce with me.”

Chapter 1

This is ridiculous.

I can get over Evans.

Just don’t think about her hair. Or her eyes. The way they spark when she’s angry. How she pushes her hair out of her face as she makes last minute edits to her essays outside the classroom doors because she thought of something else she just has to add. When she rests her head on the table after a long day and watches the candle wax dripping down the side and time seems to slow down. How sometimes her sweater rides up a little on her back and there’s a spattering of freckles above her waistline…

No. You are James Fleamont Potter. Time to give up. It’s hopeless.

Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless.

James slammed shut Moste Potente Potions in frustration, earning a glare from Madame Pince. Ignoring her, he let his head slide down from his hand until it banged on the table.

“Shhhh!”

With a sigh, James looked up, glared back at Madame Pince, and noticed Marlene McKinnon, one of his Gryffindor quidditch teammates, enter the library. Spotting James, she gave him a wave and plopped herself down in the seat across from him.

“Are you done with that book? I need to use it for Slughorn’s essay. I can’t believe he’s asked for three feet of parchment on one ingredient! How does studying one component of the Polyjuice Potion have any bearing on our understanding of the entire potion? I mean, I suppose that the presentations will help wi—”

“Mar, you’re rambling.”

“Oh, sorry! It’s just this essay has been driving me insane for the past few of weeks, and now that I’ve procrastinated it to the final week, I’m freaked. Lily is supposed to come help me if you’d like to stay for a bit.”

James started at Lily’s name, standing abruptly.

“Nope, I’ve gotta dash!”

"Wait!" yelled Marlene, immediately realizing her loud mistake as Madame Pince sprang into action in her peripheral vision. Marlene quickly got to work behind a pile of books to appease the strict librarian (and hide from her).

It was odd, thought Marlene, that James had run so quickly before Lily got here. Usually he took advantage of every opportunity to chat up her best friend...

I’m fine. Not freaking out. Should I put on the cloak? Nah, that’s a bit overkill, don’t you think, James? If I’m going to get over Evans, I have to at least be able to pass her in the corridor like a normal person. Besides, we’re heads together, I do it all the time. It's agonizing, yes, but doable. Deep breaths. Maybe walk a little faster…

James turned the corner and ran up the stairs, fervently praying that he wouldn’t run into a particular redhead. Once he was in front of the Fat Lady, he breathed a sigh of relief and dashed through the portrait hole after mumbling the password. Refusing to glance around the common room, he continued up the stairs to the dormitory — failing to ignore the flash of red in the far corner of the room.

James swept into the dorm and ran his finger nervously through his hair. “So… I lied…”

James Potter’s two (of three) best friends looked away from their respective tasks — Remus from his Charms paper, and Sirius from staring at the ceiling.

Sirius was the first to respond, “We know, Prongs.”

After a beat, Sirius spoke again. “Uh about what, exactly?”

“Evans,” said James.

“Oh, right!” laughed Sirius. “Well, you can’t just expect us to believe that you’ve suddenly gotten over Evans.”

“But I tried so hard!” cried James. “She despises me. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong, you know? I thought I ‘matured.’ That being Head Boy would give me a chance to prove it to her. But no. She’s determined to hate me forever.”

James sighed and fell onto his bed, whacking his head on the headboard in the process. Wincing, he turned to his friends. “You’ve got to help me. Evans is a lost cause and one way or another, it’s about time I moved on.”

Remus slowly closed his book, nodding, and finally spoke. “So, we need a plan.”

“Agreed.”

“When’s the next Hogsmeade visit?” questioned Remus.

“Next weekend.”

Sirius shot a piece a balled-up parchment at James. “Aw what a good head boy, knowing all the Hogsmeade dates, staying on top of his homewo—“

Throwing it back, James glared at Sirius. “Shut it, Snuffles.”

“Now now that’s not very nice.”

“Well, you can shove your snide remarks up your arse.”

At that moment, Peter slumped through the door, dropping his book bag. “What are we talking about? New prank?”

“Pffft, I wish. Prongsie here is in the process of getting over Evans,” said Sirius, leaning back in his chair with the classic Sirius smirk on his face that James wanted to smack off him.

Peter laughed. “Not possible.”

“Oy! Is too! Moony has a plan!” James couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did his friends have no faith in him? He supposed that the past five years of pining after Evans didn’t help his case, but he was determined to move on. Hateful banter was one thing, humiliating insults and a vow to date the giant squid before him even if he was the last man on earth was an entirely different thing.

Remus sighed, “All I did was ask when the next Hogsmeade was.”

“But you were on to something!”

“It’s not exactly a radical idea, mate. Just ask another girl to Hogsmeade. Get used to dating other people and get Lily off your mind.”

James nodded thoughtfully and pulled Remus into a hug. “Moony, that’s brilliant.”

Remus groaned at the unexpected embrace. “Like I said, not a radical idea.”

“Well, we know Prongsie isn’t the brightest of the bunch. Had a crush on the same girl for the past five years, dontchaknow.”

After letting go of Remus, James — noticing how close Sirius’s chair was to falling over — decided to give it a little push for all the snide comments.

Sirius’s face flashed in horror as he felt himself fall to the floor with a bang. James snorted, Sirius glared. “You’re going to regret that, Prongs”

“Hah! Not likely, Padfoot. The look on your face was priceless.”

Sirius lunged for James, tackling him to the ground. Neither Remus nor Peter interfered, used to at least one brotherly wrestling match a week. Instead, they sat on Remus’s bed and cracked open the Honeydukes hoard, waiting for the spat to end.

After a couple of minutes, Sirius’s head popped up. “Fine, Prongs, you win this time, but only because I pity you.”

“Wow. How sincere Padfoot.” While his voice portrayed annoyance, there was a shine in his eyes as he put his glasses on — he could never hold a grudge against his best mate.

“Wormtail, pass me one of those Honeydukes sweets you’ve been hoarding. James just broke my back.”

Throwing one over to Sirius, Peter took several more for himself and turned to James. “Now back to our original discussion: who are you going to ask?”

“No idea, Wormtail, but James Fleamont Potter is officially on the prowl!”

“Prongs, never ever say that in front of a girl. She will run in the other direction.”

James pranced back to the middle of the room after grabbing his own chocolate and pulled Sirius into a headlock. “I beg to differ, Snuffles. Have you seen my good looks?”

Sirius laughed, “Please, they definitely don’t even compare to mine.”

“Should we take a poll?” challenged James.

Smirking, James released Sirius from the headlock and the two of them faced Remus, still stuffing his face with Chocolate Frogs.

“We already know I’ll win, there’s no point, right, Moony?” said Sirius.

“Please leave me out of this.”

“Mooooonyyyyyyyy.”

“Moooonyyyy, you can’t back out.”

“You are both equally handsome,” said Remus as he rolled his eyes. His friends were absolutely ridiculous.

Sirius and James stared at each other with furrowed brows as if a staring contest would determine who was the most eligible bachelor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (if you must know, the female population of Hogwarts was evenly split). After some time, Peter interrupted the staring contest to inquire as to when they would be heading down for dinner, at which point the three other boys realized how hungry they were and set out for the Great Hall immediately.