#fuck urban shade

[fountian-of-youth]

Allo jumped up to his feet when corvus jumped from the shock given by the collar. His eyes widening in anger and pain seeing what was happening.

He glared at the collar on corvus's neck "you bastos" he whispered out directly aimed at urban shade.

He didn't care if he got shocked or whatever - he moved gently holding corvus's beak and petting his head "corvus - sweetie...I'm sorry so sorry but you know I wouldn't lie - those bastards ...toying with your emotions " he growled out knowing something was up.

"sweetie look at me...do I look like I would like to you ?" He asked the experiment giving a soft look his yellow eyes holding nothing but an open caring soul.

[He looks upset as he goes and sits by Allo. He has something folded against his wing.]

@what-the-crow-doing

"mhhh? Something wrong pal?" Allo asked seeing the upset look on the fellow experiment face.

His head titling back a bit to look at the tall creature's face his tail ever so slightly tapping to the ground he was sitting on.

[pallanophblargh]

I have so many things I need to catch up on and respond to (I have severely neglected my email which is NOT good) so I apologize. I will get around to it this week I hope! 

Old followers will know that this is the norm for me this time of year as I once again rally the strength to try and make the most of my severely neglected little urban hellscape of a yard. I mean, how do you recover from the knowledge that ALL of the native milkweed species you planted over the last 4 years has died, never to return? (I can’t stop being sad about this you have no clue, I had 5+ species native to the state!) All that remains is the common milkweed volunteers that have come up wherever they feel like it, and I’m obligated to let them do as they wish. Feels bad, man. I would have killed to see that purple milkweed flower.

Have spent the last 2+ weeks getting my veggie garden and containers up and running (still need to sow beans and more kale) and I’ve got more natives/ornamentals to go into my nearly cleared side yard. I’m really really REALLY hoping my new virginia bluebells don’t die with this heat/likely drought, but I’m pretty confident everyone else will come through okay. I mean, if the cardinal flower can come back for the 3rd year like a champ, what’s their excuse? (Dear self: be thankful, the cardinal flower likes you and you know it shouldn’t and that’s rad. Also the prairie smoke plant is starting to spread and that’s really cool. So is the hepatica. And your ferns are getting big and beautiful! So remember what’s working out, ok?)

I just want my little plot to be the hopping hot spot for all the local wildlife. It’s nice to see so many critters anywhere I look but I know I can do better and that requires A LOT of work. I’ll never be anything akin to a master gardener, but I like to think I’m learning a lot every day and working WITH nature instead of against it. Battling invasives is one hell of task. (Rot in hell, creeping bellflower!)

Now if only it would rain, and I can find a way to get a rain barrel setup! (No gutters in my back yard to access for rain is a major L...)

[a-lilypad]

if i won the lottery i wouldn’t tell anyone..but there would be signs

thank u sm for the tag @sommerregenjuniluft <333

np tags: @cowboywiththenecktattoo @caffeinatedbisexual @sixlane @milkisanabomination @theparisianowl

and ofc anyone else who wants to <3

[novasolstarr]

*slams through the door * I just fucking read your OCS post

One . Amazing OCS the stories mwah! Chef kisses

And two. Bro allo would have adopted theo so fast cause the poor baby!!! Looks 13 but is four ???? Yeah no allo gonna give snackies, cooks food and made sure this precious bean is pampered and given true care

Fuck urban shade

If you could not tell

I had way too much fun with this

Theo would eventually be happy with being cared for, it probably would’ve just…been a while of warming up. They don’t exactly have the best of experiences with humans or monsters at the moment :3

[hurgablurg]

jesus christ that sounds horrible

[damien-thedoctor]

This year was probably gonna be the worst year yet

Dr.kraken the greatest mind in the urban shade , the openly bi , albino scientist doctor. Had to be watched and over viewed by some other low life.

He just had to accidentally eat some drugs , they didn't tell him that had fucking crack in it !! I'm fucking donuts ?!? He had a high tolerance for alcohol but combined with the drugs it made him highly drunk and high.

He took in a deep breath as he waited by the entrance hall of the base waiting for this fucking supervisor. His pinkish red eyes twitching as he wished he had downed some coffee.

- @fountian-of-youth

[Damien heard a knock at the door, and opened it. The surprise he felt when he opened the door…. And saw him. He remembered him from the crash. He remembered seeing this man crawl out from under the car, wounded badly and bleeding out. He remembered looking down upon the other, making no movement to help. He remembered.]

“Well.. well.. well.. if it isn’t urbanshade’s crash course manic.”

[He made a tch noise, examining him with a raised brow. His tail twitched, the other man was pretty.]

“The fuck is that smell, did you fucking drink? I simply cannot waittt to explain that to HQ, that their doctor who for whatever reason they allowed to stay after causing the company so much damage, has been caught on the first day none the less drinking! Oh and do I also smell drugs too? You’re not making a good impression for yourself.”

[He ranted, hand at his hip.]

[thatesqcrush]

Beautiful Sinner (Priest! Barba AU), Prologue & Ch. 1

Priest! Barba x f! reader | SVU au

Rating: NSFW for language, graphic smut, basic desecration of religious upbringing.

WC: 8.6K

AN: I am so going to hell. One way ticket for lil old me.

AN2: Big thanks to @beccabarba for reviewing and being my soundboard.

Prologue:

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been, It's been too long since my last confession.”

“Go ahead,” the voice behind the screen began. “Tell me your sins.”

You shivered at the tambor of the words spoken. And you know that your sins were also their sins.

“I'm not seeking penance for what I've done, Father. I'm asking forgiveness for what I'm about to do,” you clarified. Your voice was soft.

“That’s not how this works,” the familiar voice replied. “What exactly are you going to do?”

You let out a shaky breath and heat flushed your cheeks. You began to unbutton your blouse. “I think you already know, Father.”

— Ch. 1—

*six months earlier*

It was a blistering summer day in Manhattan, the sun beating down relentlessly, casting sharp shadows on towering skyscrapers. The pavement radiated intense heat, mirages shimmering above the asphalt street. The air was thick with a suffocating blend of exhaust fumes, unpicked garbage bags and urban heat. City dwellers sought refuge in shaded pockets, and the city seemed to pulsate with the collective desire for relief from the oppressive heat.

It also happened to be your first weekend in your new home-a nine-story walk up in Hudson Heights.

You received your pink slip and had to make the hard decision to move. Your aunt was subletting her apartment while she traveled across the Borneo rainforests. Transitioning to a more modest apartment was a challenging shift. You had to adapt to a different community vibe and recalibrate your lifestyle expectations. You had introverted tendencies but you tried to remain resilient, focusing on navigating this life change as a time to reset.

You opened the window and stuck your head out. Spanish music played outside loudly and the normally traffic filled street was closed, with people milling about. It was the annual block party for the neighborhood, with vendors and entertainment alike. The food smelled wonderful and your stomach growled in response. The sound of a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You ducked your head, making sure to avoid giving yourself a concussion. “Coming!” You called out as your bare feet padded the floor. You knew who it was - Maria, your next door neighbor who you met on move-in day. Maria was friendly with your aunt and you knew that she had promised your aunt that she’d keep an eye on you. She was close in age to you and immediately offered you a helping hand, helping you bring up boxes. You thanked her with pizza and beer and the two of you were on your way to becoming fast friends.

When Maria had texted you earlier in the week,” ‘Block party! Want to come with?’ it was an easy yes.

You opened the door and let Maria in. “Just need shoes and my bag. Help yourself if you want anything,” you called out, heading back towards your bedroom.

You heard your fridge open, the cacophonous sounds of beverages clanking together followed by the click and hiss of a can opening. Soon enough, you were both on your way.

–

Time flew and you found yourself really enjoying yourself. Eventually Maria had to leave - she was meeting her boyfriend and his sister to head into Queens to catch the Mets game.

You were still beyond hot, the humidity was thick, almost choking you. You pulled out a claw clip from your bag and pinned your hair up. Just even having the damp strands off the nape of your neck provided some, albeit, minimal relief. In that moment, you missed your pixie cut from years prior.

The local fire department had opened the fire hydrant and there was a gaggle of kids playing in the water. You looked at the water longingly before you internally said ‘fuck it,’ and ran through the open fire hydrant. The force of the water was stronger - and colder - than you had anticipated and you let out a shriek. You ran through it once more - this time not as close to the hydrant - enjoying the water washing over your overheated skin. Sufficiently cooled off, you continued on your way through the neighborhood.

There was a generalized area with a tent set up for community outreach. Curiosity piqued, you moseyed on over. You picked up a pamphlet - St. Blaise Church. You were religious as a child, it was as how your parents raised you. As an adult, you found yourself straying away, not agreeing with the church’s ideals which contradicted your more liberal beliefs. Sometimes, though, you found yourself missing it - especially during Christmas and Easter, when the congregation would meet up together in mass throngs. There was something about community that made you wistful.

“Interested in the Church?” a voice questioned. You looked up and you locked eyes with a handsome man. That was an understatement. He was obscenely good looking. Almost as if it hurt to look at him straight on. You felt a jolt straight to your core. No one should look as good as he did.

He took your breath away with his green eyes and thick, fitted build. His hair was dark with flecks of gray at the temples. His salt and pepper beard neatly framed his jawline. The man gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling. Crow's feet gracefully fanned out from the corners of his eyes, evidence of a life rich in laughter and stories. Dressed in comfortable yet stylish summer attire, he exuded a casual sophistication. He wore a fitted polo with fitted shorts that were borderline criminal. The polo was slightly unbuttoned, which allowed for a hint of chest hair along sun-kissed skin to peek through. Immediately your brain went to the gutter.

“Miss?”

You blinked. It was as if your brain broke and you had no idea as to how to respond. He raised a brow and inwardly you melted, feeling warmth bloom through you.

“Uh, sorry. The heat is just getting to me,” Nervous laughter accompanied your lame excuse.

“No worries, it happens to the best of us. I’m Rafael Barba.” He offered his hand and you took it. As you shook his hand, warmth bloomed through you.

He offered you a beer from a cooler and you happily accepted. And over beer, you find yourself enamored with every word from his lips. You suspected Rafael was involved with the church with how passionately he spoke about it. And when he invited you to attend the Adult Fellowship group after Sunday’s mass, you found yourself agreeing.

“...the fellowship hour following the Liturgy provides opportunities to develop friendships, meet parishioners or simply exchange information of mutual interest. There are monthly birthday celebrations and seasonal events, such as Christmas and Easter parties, as well as a spring picnic. We are always looking for more—”

Rafael’s cell rang and he apologized before excusing himself. You nodded and rocked on your heels, once again taking in the scene before you as you finished your beer.

This new neighborhood was already looking up.

—

As Rafael took the call, he couldn’t help but turn around to look at you once more. His eyes raked over your form, fully drinking you in. He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He could feel a slight stirring in his pants, and furiously shook his head.

‘No,’ his brain argued. ‘No.’

He was not being turned on right now. Rafael tried to push the thought away and turned his attention back to the phone.

After the Householder case and resigning from the D.A.’s office, Rafael decided he needed to get away from it all. He spent the next three months holed up in his apartment, avoiding anyone and everyone.

Even if he didn’t want to - there was no one who would understand what he did. His mother was horrified and stopped talking to him. He received more than one gloating, sneering call from the recidivist he should have blocked — Alex Muños. Even Yelina spurned him.

He was truly alone.

So what was an acquitted, former ADA to do?

He prayed.

He had lapsed from religion. After working in the DA’s office and seeing all the especially heinous, depraved, evil out there - he was convinced there was no God.

He couldn’t explain why he did what he did - he did what he had to. Something called him to do it.

Was it God? Was it the Devil?

He wasn’t sure. So he prayed some more.

And then one night it came to him. The calling from God.

After a lengthy period of hemming and hawing, weighing the pros and cons, he contacted the local diocesan vocational director and began the requisite training. That training looked like pre-theology for 2 years followed by a tenure at a major seminary where he studied languages—some of which he already knew -Latin, Spanish, Greek. He also took graduate level studies in theology, including Doctrine, Canon Law, Church History, Scripture, and Liturgy.

He called St. Blaise’s home for three years. He found joy in community and spreading the Gospel. He gave to the community as much as he could possibly give. He thought it would be weird - that people would recognize him and call him a baby killer. And if they did - they never did it to his face. Rather, the community embraced him.

He was still busy as ever - mass was everyday, there were funerals, baptisms and weddings. He did outreach with the youth and began a fellowship for parishioners who were in a similar age cohort. Having saved quite a penny as an ADA, he lived off his savings. A priest’s salary was meager and he still had to pay taxes. So his salary sat in another account which went towards that.

The summer block party was an annual event, but very nubile - only in its third year. It’s where he felt he could give most back and the community could truly come together.

He hadn’t felt an attraction to any form of secular life in ages.

Until you just now.

He could use the excuse that he was a man after all. A man who used to be sexually active with both men and women alike. But before you, he was able to steer his thoughts away and put that energy into something else for the betterment of the church and community.

And then you came along, soaking yourself as you sprinted through a pump before going back for more.

His eyes traveled over you again. You were soaked, the material of your clothing sticking to you. Your tank top - now sheer - showing off your nipples which were diamond hard due to the combination of the cold water and air.

‘Fucking hell, get a grip.’

But he turned around to get yet another look, while yes’ing the person on the phone. His eyes trailed over the shorts you wore, perfectly molded to your ass and thighs. The rest of your legs were equally toned and for a split second, he could imagine them wrapped around his hips.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake.’

He wanted to talk to you more but this phone call ate up his time. Finally after what seemed like forever, he was free again. He decided at that moment, he needed to clear his head, so he sat back down and willed his cock to deflate. He closed his eyes and was about to cover his face with a hat when you interrupted him again.

“So what’s a lapsed Catholic to do if she wants to rejoin the church?”

Rafael lifted the hat off his face and sat fully. He cocked a brow. “Well, you can start by coming to mass tomorrow.”

“I suppose,” you sighed. “It’s been awhile.”

“How long is a while?” Rafael inquired gently. He gave you a kind smile. You looked away, embarrassed. Heat flooded your cheeks.

“Years,” you supplied.

Rafael nodded and then cocked his head. “Are you familiar with the parable about Jesus and the lost sheep?”

You nodded. “I’m the one that Jesus is looking for?”

Rafael nodded. “Maybe. But what about coming to mass first and checking it out before making any commitments?”

You nodded again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hey stranger! Long time no see!” a familiar voice called out, interrupting the conversation.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Maria, now accompanied by her boyfriend.

“I thought you were going to the city,” you asked, chucking your beer in the garbage can next to you.

“Changed our minds. Plus Robbie’s sister is being a little bitch.”

That earned a ‘hey!’ from Robbie before he acquiesced. “Yeah, she is being a little bitch.”

You turned back around but Rafael was nowhere to be seen. You looked at the pamphlet once more before folding it and tucking it away for later.

“I cannot believe you spoke to Fr. Barba like that,” Maria continued.

“Wait - what? He’s a priest?”

Maria nodded. She then pointed to your still soaked appearance. “You can see your tits through your tanktop. Wrong day to not wear a bra. You look like you could win a wet-tshirt contest.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment as you looked down and realized Maria was in fact correct.

“Probably thanked God - that celibate life must be rough,” Robbie laughed. “He’s been a priest for how long? I can’t imagine not having sex.”

You weren’t listening though, too consumed in your embarrassment and attraction. Of course the hottest man on the planet is a fucking priest. ‘And of course I would basically flash him.’

Later that evening at home, you poured some kibble in a bowl for your cat and heated up a quick meal. As you waited for your food to finish, you rifled through your closet for something to wear to church. Your eyes landed on a sundress that you knew was probably much too short for church. You frowned and kept looking until you found the perfect outfit.

You told Maria that you were going to attend mass. You had already promised the hot priest you’d come to the fellowship group. If you didn’t show, then you would be a liar, and you couldn’t lie to a priest - right?

—

The following morning you found yourself at church with Maria.

“I want to sit up in the front,” you whined as the both of you shuffled into the pew.

“I’m too hungover to sit in the front,” Maria grumbled. “You think I can get away with leaving my sunglasses on?”

You rolled your eyes. “This is probably the one mass you can get away with that shit,” you replied before slapping your mouth with your palm. “I didn’t mean to curse, shit, oh no, God damnit!”

Maria laughed at your foul mouthed word salad. “You can confess to Fr. Barba after.”

The organ began to play and you stood. You motioned to Maria to stand and she ignored you, instead choosing to rest her head on the back of the bench of the pew in front of her. You watched as the altar servers carried in the items needed for mass - Cross, the processional candles, incense and Bible. Your eyes followed as Fr. Barba walked behind. He wore green vestments and you vaguely recalled that the color of the robes indicated where you were along in the church calendar.

Mass went as typically as you remembered. You sang from the hymnal, prayed along the congregation, and actually listened to the homily instead of daydreaming about being anywhere else. Fr. Barba was straightforward, discussing Jesus’ anger.

“Paul commands us in Ephesians 4:26, be angry and do not sin; don’t let the sun set on your anger. I’ve heard a lot of sermons on the “but do not sin” part: anger can give opportunity to the devil and birth all manner of hell in relationships. I’ve also heard a lot of sermons on the “do not let the sun go down on your anger.” But I haven’t heard any sermons on these two words: be angry.”

Fr. Barba paused before continuing. “Be angry. As we look upon a world of injustice and abuse, even in the church, we can learn how to be angry in love together. And we learn this the way Paul did: from Jesus. Jesus got angry. Regularly. And we see a pattern in his anger: whenever someone vulnerable or powerless suffered injustice at the hands of the strong and powerful, Jesus opposed this injustice with loving anger.”

The Liturgy of Word concluded and then transitioned into the Liturgy of the Eucharist. You watched intently as he performed prayers and rites in Latin that had existed for thousands of years.

It was time for Communion but you didn’t feel up to receiving. So instead, you just watched. As you scanned the church, your eyes locked with Rafael’s. He was watching you, a frown on his face. You felt your cheeks grow hot once more and you turned away out of embarrassment.

Mass concluded shortly after. The fellowship hour was immediately afterwards, held in the basement of the church. Maria had zero interest in attending so you parted ways before heading down. The smell of incense and something very “churchly” permeated in the air as you walked down the dimly lit stairs.

The basement was as expected, acoustic tile ceiling, fluorescent lights, that unique slight churchy smell, boxes of various items, beige metal folding chairs, long tables, pillars in the middle of the room holding up the sanctuary one floor up. There was a life-size nativity in the back, with a Joseph whose hand was broken and an unfortunate beheaded sheep statue. Someone was setting up a coffee maker and someone else was plating store-bought cupcakes.

You chit-chatted with some congregants, majority of whom you met at the block party.

As you made a cup of coffee, you were unaware of Fr. Barba entering the room. It was only when you heard his voice and the sound of people shuffling to sit. You turned, sipping your coffee as you did so. No, Fr. Barba was no longer in those ceremonial robes that hid away everything. Instead, he wore fitted dark denim with a black shirt and his collar.

Your eyes tracked him as you continued to speak with others. You made sure to glance back to the folks you were speaking with - implying you were listening when you really weren’t. You watched as he moved easily through the room, greeting people, making jokes. What a waste of good looks.

People began to slowly sit, the chatting quietly winding down. Eventually, you took a seat. Everyone sat in a circle and you felt as if you were in an AA meeting.

“Welcome,” Fr. Barba began. “Thank you all for taking the time to come today.” He turned his gaze to you and stretched his arm in your direction. “We have a newcomer.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes crinkling in the corner.

You gave a small smile and waved, before introducing yourself.

There was a more in depth discussion of the readings from the mass. You hung onto every word Rafael said. Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba you chanted in your mind as if you were trying to ensure that stayed in your mind.

He’s a priest you told yourself. He’s Father - not Daddy.

—

You became a regular at church and also at the afternoon fellowship. You were usually quiet, opting to listen more so than anything. Today was different.

Fr. Barba asked the group to share their most favorite parts of scripture; he had anticipated the majority of responses - Genesis, one of the Gospels, Proverbs. Your comment made his stomach flip.

“I personally enjoy Song of Songs,” you offered. “It celebrates sexual love.”

“Jewish tradition reads it as an allegory of the relationship between God and Israel,” Fr. Barba offered.

“In Christianity, it is read as an allegory of Christand his bride, the Church,” you countered.

“I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me,” Fr. Barba responded.

You flushed. “His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. It is an unabashedly sensuous, even at times quite erotic, paean to love,” you continued as you leafed through the Bible you held.

“No matter what interpretation you choose to believe, the book is a powerful and profound reminder of the beauty and depth of God’s love for us. It is a beautiful book that has been celebrated for centuries and one that can still bring joy and comfort to believers today.”

There was a pause and then Rafael clapped his hands. “I think that’s enough to stop for now. Thank you all for coming. I’ll see you all next week.”

You hung back, helping to clean up. Slowly the group dissipated, leaving you and Fr. Barba alone.

“You’re still here.” Fr. Barba’s voice was thick and dark. You shivered in response.

“I really enjoyed myself today,” you replied softly as you approached him. You closed the gap between you and him. You could press your hands to his chest if you wanted to.

Oh how you wanted to.

Your nipples strained against the confines of your top. You wanted to drop to your knees and show your worth - take another type of communion.

‘Behave,’ you told yourself.

“Did you now?”

His expressive, bright green eyes are now dark and stormy. His jaw is tight. You swallow hard.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I won’t have it,” he continues. His voice is clipped and you shivered in response.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not playing at anything Father. I’ll see you next week.”

Rafael didn’t reply. He watched as you turned about and walked away with a deliberate sway of your hips. His eyes were focused on your ass. All he wanted to do in that moment was to haul you over a pew and spank your ass for your insolence. His cock ached and twitched in his pants.

You turned back towards him, a full smile gracing your face. “I’m really looking forward to being a member of this congregation.”

Once you were gone, Rafael sat down on a folded chair dismayed.

He was so screwed.

God almighty help him.

—

It was a delicate dance. There was a part of you that enjoyed toeing the line with Fr. Barba. And part of you felt a smidge guilty. But fuck, he was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

As Fr. Barba. Well, you weren’t alone in the desperate want and lust you were feeling.

He played with you in his fantasies. He knew what he was getting into when he became a priest. He swore to God to not know another’s body. It was the least he could do considering he killed baby Drew.

He wasn’t supposed to have these kind of thoughts.

It had been so long and he was under your spell.

After the group meeting, he had to hustle back to his home - a small home attached to the rectory. He made quick work of removing his clothes. He hissed as grasped his aching cock. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

Self pleasure was also a no-no.

Masturbation involved lust. It’s to use another person for your own selfish pleasure. The person becomes an object and it denigrates their dignity as a human being.

When he was around you, he wanted to throw everything into the wind. The image of your soaked tits haunted him. He threw his head back as he continued to jerk himself. Desire. You made him fucking feral.

He imagined kissing you after the meeting the second you and him were alone.

His lips crushed against yours. He pressed your back against the wall, his knee parting your legs.

One hand tangled in your hair, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot of your skin.

It was as if you released a part of him that he had kept tucked away for so long.

He stripped away your top, before mouthing your tits before dropping to his knees. Your hand moved through his hair.

“Taste me,” you’d beg. You’d beg so nicely and who was he to deny his lamb?

He imagined grabbing your ass, pulling your dripping pussy to his mouth. You would drape a leg over his shoulder, grounding yourself hard against his mouth.

“Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

He would put his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushed his tongue inside, tasting, licking, and sucking.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” you’d moan. “Don’t stop. Oh God, I am going to come. Please, fuck me.”

He would undo his belt and drop his pants, grasping his cock in his hand. He’d rub the head of his cock along your folds, teasing you until neither one of you could stand it before burying himself deep inside of you.

“I want everything you’ve got. I want to feel it all.”

“Is that what my little lamb wants? To be fucked hard like a whore?”

“Yes,” you’d beg. “Please.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Come for me little lamb,” he’d encourage. You’d fall apart at his words. He could imagine how your wet, soft, pussy would suck his cock in, deeper and deeper. He would imagine thrusting deep and hard, his cock dragging against your sweet spot. He’d come hard, deep inside of you, his come painting your walls.

In reality he grunted and groaned as his cock kicked. He came all over his hand and belly. He panted, waiting for his breath to even out.

‘Shit.’

—

It was a gloomy Tuesday morning as Rafael worked in his office. Homilies were a lot like closing arguments. Instead of trying to sway the jury, he had to connect with his congregants. Instead of evidence, it was the gospel.

He was distracted. His mind kept wandering to you. Were you some kind of a test for him?

You were under his skin. An itch that couldn’t be scratched. Or stroked. You had consumed his thoughts.

He tore the yellow sheet off the pad before crumpling it.

Rafael tried very hard to live a holy life, especially as he had known what life was like, could be like, outside of the church.

And until now, through God’s grace, he had done very well.

He looked at the time. Confession was to start soon. Confession wasn’t popular. Usually before the bigger high holidays, people would come in droves. But a regular, run of the mill Tuesday? Not a chance.

He had his regulars though, who would come without fail. They were long standing members of the community. Being bilingual was a big boost for the church.

Rafael put on his collar, and changed into dark slacks from jeans and then headed out.

—-

You peeked into the booth. Seeing that it was empty, you made your way in and sat down.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s been… um, years since my last confession.”

Rafael was stunned. It was you.

‘Focus.’

You began with some menial, ordinary sins. Rafael focused on what you were saying, ignoring the throb of his cock.

“And, of course, this… all leads to the most wicked one.”

Rafael swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Me?” Rafael questioned. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ “What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind and thoughtful. I probably shouldn’t say this because it’s so inappropriate, but you’re so fucking handsome. And it’s resulted in some wicked behavior.”

“Wicked how?” His hands ball into fists before he grabs the tops of his thighs hard, trying to steel his thoughts.

“I— I’m sorry. I need to go.” You’re stammering over your words, your heart racing.

Rafael heard the panic in your voice and he frowned. The confessional creaked as you stood. Rafael was filled with an overwhelming need to get you to stay. “We all sin. Including myself. God made us imperfect and can he really get to be disappointed in us when we do imperfect things?”

“I— I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. And I am filled with despair about wanting what I can’t have,” you reply softly. “What can I do about this? Can I say 10 Hail Mary’s or something?”

You continue. “And can I be absolved if I don’t feel bad about what I’ve done or said in the past? They’re all things I wanted to do.”

Rafael wracked his mind on what to say.

And before he could, he heard you open the door and leave. He stood quickly and pushed open the curtain. But it was too late. You were already gone.

—

Sunday mass came like clockwork.

As Rafael led mass, he scanned the pews for you. He was disappointed when he didn’t see you. He saw your friend and he made a mental note to talk with her afterwards.

“Fr. Barba, great service,” Maria commented as she shook Fr. Barba’s hand.

“Thank you. I- I am glad you came. You had been coming with your friend—“

“Oh! You mean — yeah, she couldn’t come today. She had some stuff to take care of. She’s new to the area and I know she could really use the community support,” Maria replied. She looked past Rafael and smiled brightly. “Oh there she is!”

Maria called your name. Rafael turned around and he saw you across the street. You were dressed more conservatively and he felt a wave of disappointment.

You half jogged across the street and before Rafael knew it, you had materialized in front of him.

“Hi,” you greeted as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Sorry to have missed mass.”

“It’s okay,” Rafael laughed. “It’s not like God is keeping tabs.”

You smiled. Maria turned to you. “Was just telling Fr. Barba how you could use some community.”

“Uh,” you blanched. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, help is always needed at the community center or food pantry,” Rafael offered. “Meet plenty of people that way.”

“Yeah, sure. I - I saw in the bulletin you were looking for someone to go over your books.”

Rafael shifted. “Um, I was looking more for a CPA—“

“Well you are in luck!” Maria hit your arm. “You’ve got your own CPA here.”

“I-I am not a CPA. I was treasurer of my sorority years ago,” you explained. “But I lost my job and I need money,” you shrugged. “That’s all.”

Rafael sighed and rubbed his neck. As much as Olivia was a bleeding heart, he was too, especially with his roots. “Um, stop by the rectory sometime next week and we can talk it through.”

You smiled brightly. “Oh that would be great! Really! Thank you.”

Rafael nodded. You turned to Maria. “We have to go. Reservations?”

Other congregants had started to line up to speak with Rafael. He turned towards the line, but not without glancing back, watching you walk away.

Rafael admired you from behind, appreciating how your jeans hugged you in all of the right places. A flash of heat coursed through him.

‘God damnit, what are you doing?’

—

You never came by. Or to mass. Rafael thought you might have had a change of heart. Perhaps your flirtation with religion had flamed out. He found himself longing to see you but also increasingly frustrated with himself. He busied himself as much as possible so that he couldn’t even think of you. You were the absolute last thing on his mind.

When you rapped on his door two and a half weeks later, Rafael was more than surprised. He was downright startled, like a horse with thunder. He had been knee deep in the church’s financial books.

“I’m sorry, I hope I am not intruding. I know it’s late.”

Rafael relaxed. “No, not at all. Please, come in, sit.”

You slunk in the chair with ease and eyed Rafael’s outfit. “You don’t look like a priest.”

Rafael arched a thick brow. “And what do I look like?”

“Like a regular guy. Someone I would meet at a bar,” you shrugged as you waved your arm as if to make a point. Rafael was wearing dark jeans with a button down, sleeves rolled up and brown brogues.

Rafael laughed. “Well, there was a point in my life where you would have found me there. Speaking of bars, would you care for a drink?”

“I thought priests could only drink church wine.”

Rafael laughed again. “No, no, we can drink more than church wine.” You heard the clatter of glass and the sound of liquid pouring. “Here,” Rafael turned to you, his arm outstretched, holding a lowball glass with amber liquid. “Macallan 18.”

You took it from him and swirled the liquid before sniffing. You closed your eyes as you took a sip. You hummed, pleased. “This is good. Dangerously good.” You took another sip. “Oh this goes down way too easy.”

‘I bet my cock will go down easy.’

Rafael coughed and shook his head. “Uh, yeah, it does.” He took a large swallow of his glass and then poured himself another glass.

“You’re wondering why I’m here now. Instead of two weeks ago.”

Rafael perched himself on the corner of his desk. “I am.”

“I wish I had a reason that made sense, but I don’t. The truth is…” you glanced around the office and it became very apparent that the room was decorated more like a legal office than what you assumed an office in a church would be like.

“The truth is?” Rafael prodded.

You stood and started walking around the room. Your hand trailed the spines of the stacks of books lined up. It was then when you spotted the law degree in the corner.

“Wait - you are a lawyer? And a priest? How does that work?”

“Was,” Rafael clarified, before taking a long sip of his drink. “Was a lawyer.”

“You don’t practice anymore?”

“No,” Rafael shook his head. “Not anymore.”

You walked up to the bar cart and poured yourself another drink. You took the chair and pulled it until you were sitting directly in front of Rafael. “Tell me.”

Hours passed. Rafael unloaded everything on you - his time at SVU, baby Drew, the why to choose a life of faith.

And that bottle of Macallan?

You stood very close to Rafael. Your hands pressed on his chest. You swayed slightly and Rafael placed his hands on your hips, steadying you.

“Hire me. I’m really good with numbers.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t going to have sex.”

You scoffed, before almost losing your footing. Rafael’s hands gripped your hips tightly. “Who said anything about us having sex?”

“Do you think I don’t realize what game you’re playing?”

“Game? I’m not playing a game. I need a job.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not. Besides, do you even know how?”

Rafael pushed you away slightly. “Did you not just hear the story of my life?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Father.”

“The how?”

You walked back and closed the gap between you and him. “Yeah. The how. To fuck.”

Rafael’s eyes darken. He cupped your face and you leaned into his palm. He slowly walked around and behind you. He dropped his mouth to your ear. “I know how to fuck. I’ve fucked plenty. Men. Women. I know how to make someone come.”

A rumble emanated from Rafael’s chest. You spun on your heels and looked up at him. Rafael loomed over you, your eyes growing wide. Your breath hitched. “Is that so?”

Your faces were inches apart. You were breathing each other's air, growing dizzy over the shared breath. Your heart was thumping and you were so needy in that moment you thought you were going to burst.

“Little lamb, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You let out a whine. “Please.”

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger. Your eyes searched his before settling on his lips. His beautiful pink lips that you knew they knew how to kiss. And lick. And fuck. And make someone come.

“You’re a good priest Father Barba,” you whispered. “But you’re also a good man. And doesn’t a good man deserve a little indulgence every now and then?”

The tension in the room was thick, the air electric. You almost felt moved to tears in the desperate way you wanted him. And he wanted you.

The sound of sirens blaring broke the spell. You both jumped apart. You both stared at each other. Rafael couldn’t help but notice that you were flushed, and that flush was making its way down. You worried your bottom lip.

“It’s late,” you rushed. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”

You spun on your heels and was about to dash out the door when Rafael gripped your wrist, pausing you in the middle of the door.

You looked back up at him with wide eyes.

“You start Monday,” Rafael gruffed. You nodded, unable to say anything.

You managed to squeak out an ‘okay.’ And before you realized it, the door was shut in your face.

—

Your first week was completely uneventful. As is the next. And the week after. You’re the epitome of well behaved and professional much to Rafael’s relief.

That still didn’t mean he didn’t imagine kissing you and then some. Or how when you leaned over his desk, he didn’t imagine lifting up your skirt and plowing into you. Or that when you chewed on your pen cap, he didn’t imagine his cock between your plump, soft lips.

Under the collar, he still was very much a man.

And you didn’t let him forget it. He lost track of the amount of times he had to get himself off. And still it didn’t nothing to quell the ache for you.

You threw yourself into the work and you actually found it quite fulfilling. You made plenty of friends and found yourself volunteering in other parts of the church - like working at the food pantry or singing as part of the church choir.

Summer ebbed into Fall. The air grew cooler. The days started to grow shorter and the leaves, once a vibrant green, were now tinged with yellow and orange, painting the city in a fiery palette.

You were working in the rectory that morning. When Myra, the arthritic receptionist, ended up in the hospital with pneumonia, you eagerly took over the job. You were busy enough with church duties as it was but it made sense for you to take over.

Utilizing your skills from past work experience, you ended up bringing St. Blaise into the 21st century thanks to Intuit and Microsoft.

Since you started, the more Rafael was able to get to know you. In turn, the more he wanted you. He did everything in his power to not even look at you for too long, at least when you were not not looking. It was hard - but Rafael was a glutton for punishment. Being around you made Rafael addicted.

It did seem as if you heeded his words - you were the utmost professional. You did such a good job that Rafael wondered if maybe he had misread the signals altogether and that one night was just the booze.

Then one particular evening, Rafael saw you walking with Maria, her boyfriend, and another gentleman. He didn’t want to stop and say hi - if anything he wanted to avoid it altogether and cross the street but you and him made eye contact. It would have been too awkward to avoid you by that point. It ended with the five of you at the local watering hole - where this gentleman who had his arm wrapped around you. Rafael didn’t enjoy how jealousy washed over him - he knew he did not have any right to you, or your body. And he would never be - you were never together like that.

You were waiting at the bar, ordering another round when Rafael joined you. You looked over at him and gave a small smile.

“So you’re on date then?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Rafael—“

“You live here, you can go on any dates and with whom.”

“He’s just— you and I— we never…

The bartender arrived with your drinks. You went to pay, but Rafael stopped you. “I got it.”

“Don’t you have to take a vow of poverty?” you asked as you grabbed some of the drinks. Rafael grabbed the remainder and the two of you walked back to the booth.

“One of the most common misconceptions about the Catholic priesthood is that all priests take a vow of poverty. In fact, most do not. Diocesan priests do not even make vows, they make “promises” of obedience to their bishop: chastity and to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Vows, on the other hand, are typically made by members of religious orders, such as Franciscans, Benedictines, Dominicans, etc.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

You walked ahead of Rafael, a sway in your hips as you did so. Rafael’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a breath as he followed, exhaling slowly.

When your date - Eric - as he later learned - began mouthing off about theology and religion, Rafael rolled his eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to let himself get bested and using the skills he acquired from all the cross examinations he had ever done, basically annihilated the other guy. You snickered behind the glass of your drink but Rafael saw it and felt his chest puff.

At one point - Eric whispered something in your ear. Whatever he said was enough to make you blush and shift in your seat, smiling to yourself like you had a secret. Rafael didn’t miss it at all and he felt himself stiffen and his jaw tighten. Your eyes met once more, and you witnessed the visceral reaction he was having, saw that little flex of his jaw and the way his eyes glittered with something primal and possessive. You could see that part of him would gladly punch Eric, and even as Rafael’s eyes locked with yours, he didn't hide it. Briefly, the kind and generous priest was all gone. Even the smart and sassy lawyer was superseded: you saw the man, capable of lust and jealousy. Over you. The thought of inspiring those feelings in him made heat pool in your body, and you squeezed your thighs together. His eyes registered your expression: you were certain he knew how you felt.

By end of the night, you went to hug him good night but Rafael dodged you. You frowned and bid him adieu as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Rafael continued to head home - and had he turned around, he would have seen you still standing, watching him.

Another week went by.

The pounding on the door stirred Rafael awake. He looked over at the clock - it was a little after midnight. A breeze blew through, causing a chill to run through his body.

He tugged a t-shirt on and groused that he was on his way.

Rafael was not expecting to see you.

“Father,” you greeted. There was a very large bottle of Macallan in your hand. Your eyes trailed over the very sleepy priest in front of you. His hair was askew and he looked adorable. You swallowed at his tight white shirt and low slung gray sweats.

“What is going on?” Rafael asked. He reached in his pocket for his glasses.

“Fancy a chat about my existential crisis?” You thrusted the bottle of scotch into his arms and walked in, pushing slightly past him.

Rafael got a whiff of your shampoo and it sent all blood straight immediately to his cock. He looks back outside and satisfied not seeing anyone else, closes the door behind him. “Existential crisis?”

“Do you have any glasses?” You ask, ignoring his question, as you look around. You hadn’t ever been inside a priest’s dwelling and you were surprised at how normal it appeared.

“Wow.” You stopped misstep and looked around. “This is not what I expected.”

Rafael rubbed his neck. “Huh? Oh, what did you expect it to look like?”

“I don’t know. More holy? Crosses everywhere. Stacks of bibles? Not something out of an architectural digest - with a kitchen island!”

Rafael laughed. He took the bottle from your hand and walked over to the island where he placed the glasses. “A lot of this is from…” he waved his arm around. “Before.”

“Pre-priest Rafael.” You clarified as you walked over to where he was and took an amber filled glass.

“Yeah,” Rafael replied before taking a long drag of his drink.

You nodded and hummed before taking another sip. “When you were just a man. Who had sex. A lot.”

“I’m still a man.”

“Come on, you know it’s not the same.”

You knew better. You knew you shouldn’t.

What would your friends say, what would they do if they ever find out? What about the congregation and surrounding community?

This was bigger than you, bigger than him. What were you thinking?

But it’s Rafael. Fr. Rafael Barba. Not that it matters - he’s not actually yours. He belongs to God.

But now when he’s staring down at you the way he is right now, teeth catching his full bottom lip, sleep-tousled hair and stormy, smoldering eyes, you can’t help but fall from grace.

“Kiss me.”

“You know we can’t.”

“So? Kiss me anyway.”

“I’m a priest.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Rafael swallowed the remainder of his drink and let out a huff. He pointed a finger toward you. “You…you’re trouble.”

You closed the gap between you and him. The room felt electric. You pressed your hands onto his chest. “So? Kiss me anyway.”

Rafael sucked in a breath. You press yourself even closer, your hips automatically seeking his. Rafael pushed you away gently. “I told you we can’t. I told you I can’t.”

“Why are you denying what’s between us?” Your hands shook as you poured yourself another glass. You turned and leaned against the island. “God made us to be sexual creatures. It’s his design. It’s his idea, his gift to us.”

Rafael sighed in irritation. “Our sexual desires are no surprise to God. He made us, and He gave us a strong sexual desire to enjoy within the proper context.” He pointed to you and then to himself. “This is not the proper context. If I wasn’t a priest, then it would be different. This is real life. What we do has real consequences.”

“If you weren’t a priest,” you murmured. You swallowed the remainder of your drink and slammed it on the island. Warmth flooded your body and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or him or a combination of both. Likely the latter. “Tell me you want me. Tell me I was never imagining things.”

Rafael remained silent.

“You have the right to lose control. I know you think—”

“You don’t know what I think,” Rafael acerbically spat. “And no, I don’t have the right.” He began to pace. “You don’t know the misery I live in when you’re not around.”

“And you think I am not?” you questioned. Your voice wavered and your eyes welled with unshed tears. “It’s never been like this with anyone. Never. I want you. I can’t have you. But please - let me live in the solace that you want me too. That I was never imagining any of it. I am going crazy.”

Rafael paused mid-stride and looked at you. He took a deep breath.

“What’s it gonna be? I am begging you.”

It was like something in him snapped when you said that. Rafael slammed his own drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked over and pressed you against the island. You let out a squeak in response. You could feel how hard he was against your belly. He brushed some of your hair back. Your breath hitched and a flush spread along your skin.

“Say it again.”

“Tell me you want me.”

“No - repeat what you said at the end,” he all but growled. You chewed your bottom lip and nodded.

“I beg you.”

“God help me. You beg so prettily,” Rafael murmured. He pulled at you, hands grabbing at hips, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. It was over before you could register and you pulled back to look into his eyes. You wrapped your hands on his face and then dove back in, returning the kiss, equally as hard.

The momentum was desperate, frenzied, hands everywhere. You let out a gasp as Rafael backed you against the kitchen island. The scruff of his beard dragged against your skin, his lips working your jaw, your ear, moving down your neck, and you let out a strained moan. You pressed your hips upwards into his, feeling his erection. Rafael had to stop and inhale sharply before resuming his attack on your skin. The tips of his fingers find skin under your shirt, and dig into your flesh. One of your hands is twisted in his shirt, the other grasping the waistband of his sweats as he felt a leg curve around his; it was as if your body functioned in tune to keep him as close as possible.

Rafael’s lips found purchase on the hollow of your neck. You let out a groan as you sagged against him, melting into his embrace. The want was overwhelming.

His hands made way to the front of your jeans and he nimbly undid the button and fly before shoving his large hand down your panties. “So wet for me.”

And you are. You’re so fucking wet, it’s obscene.

The tips of his fingers drag through your slit.

“Fuck,” his teeth scraped along your jaw. “You’re soaking.”

He slid two fingers deep inside of you. You keened wordlessly into his shoulder, biting down on his shoulder to suppress a moan.

“No, no, pretty lamb. Look at me,” Rafael husked, his voice laced with an edge of dominance.

You pulled back and met his gaze. His fingers drove deep up into you, pumping, long and needy. His thumb rubbed against your clit. Your blood is boiling, your body vibrating. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers continue their momentum, finding that spongey spot inside of you that most folks couldn’t ever find.

The walls of your pussy ripple against his fingers. “Be a good little lamb and come for me.” It was Rafael’s turn to beg. “Be my good girl and give it to me.”

You chanted his name as if it were prayer as you come around his fingers. Your body is abuzz, vibrating. You whine out his name in three syllables as you coat his hand with your arousal. Rafael swallowed your cries as he covered your mouth with his. The kiss, which was initially passionate, slowed in intensity, to just soft, slow licks that almost felt reverent, worshipful. Eventually he pressed his forehead to yours and you both drank in each other’s air, breathing heavily. You whimpered as Rafael removed his fingers from your cunt. You watched him with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. His eyes fluttered close as he let out an appreciative sound.

“Do I taste good, Father?” Your voice was laced with lust.

“My sweet, decadent little lamb,” Rafael complimented. “But we cannot do that again.”

“Do what?” You asked as you pushed him off slightly to give yourself room to drop to the floor. You palmed his cock through his pants, pleased with yourself as he groaned with want and need.

A car backfired and the sound caused you both to startle, effectively ending the spell. Rafael helped you up from the ground. “This cannot happen again.” His voice was firm. And before you could protest any more, you found yourself back outside, the door shutting in your face.

Rafael leaned against the door, his head pounding, his cock aching.

‘You idiot! You shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have given in to your melodic voice and sparkling eyes. You had no business being in his life.

But the crack he left open for you made him believe that he had more to lose now than when he met you at the block party all those moons ago.

He rubbed his face, tired and frustrated. And he went back to bed to once again to take matters in his own hands again. ‘Fuck.’

TBC.

[urfavnegronerd]

agape- nicholas britell

summary: miles is takin down ur braids 

published: july 27, 2023

warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes

sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me

w/c: 1.5 k

reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3

i think this something every black boy be needin deep down

“Stop movin, ma” 

“It’s knotty,” 

“You had these in for how long?” 

Silence. 

“There's your answer right there, mama,”  

“Sorry,” 

“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,” 

Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore. 

“Miles?” 

He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back  

“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,” 

“Shut up” 

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” 

“Nuh-uh,” 

“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.” 

“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist 

“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap. 

“Stop doin that shit, ma” 

“What?” 

“Talkin all crazy like that,” 

“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,” 

“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,” 

“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?” 

“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”  

“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,” 

“It’s nothin,” 

You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment. 

“Ion like this,” 

“What?” 

“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,” 

“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,” 

“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?” 

“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,” 

“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.  

“Baby, I’m all for that but–” 

“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?” 

A silence. 

“Baby.” 

“What?” 

“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,” 

“Aint nobody say allat–” 

“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?” 

“Ma–” 

“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,” 

“You done?” 

“Yeah,”  

“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.  

“ ‘s oil all up on my hands” 

“No me importa ma, come up on here,”  

Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes. 

“Talk to me, mama,” 

“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.” 

“Why you even talk like this to me?” 

“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,” 

At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up. 

“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,” 

You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.

“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”  

“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,” 

“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,��� 

“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,” 

“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,” 

Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.” 

“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.  

“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,” 

“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart. 

“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,” 

He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.  

“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,” 

“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes. 

“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”  

His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek. 

“I love you,” 

And then he’s sobbing. 

“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child. 

He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot. 

Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you. 

“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest. 

“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay? 

He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes. 

“You so beautiful Miles.” 

And this time, he nods. 

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#6. A day in paradise

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe (duh)/ kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ slight grinding/ Oral (F.Receiving)/ fingering INFIDELITY

Word count- 15k (Phew... I had to physically restrain myself from writing more.)

a/n - Well, there are a lot of words here, but I needed to include everything before things will go down, probably starting from the next chapter. Speaking of which, the next chapter might be delayed or might not come out next week due to some family events. (I'm not thrilled at all.) My apologies in advance. I’m really sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for your continued support and reading. ♥️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

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The scenery of urban buildings slowly passes by you. You are very intrigued to say the least. As your first time traveling away from the hustle of Seoul. This is the first time you’re seeing the other parts of this world. So far, you’ve got to learn that everything stays similar to your world. To a certain extent. People. Vehicles. Buildings. Politics. Music. Movies. Technology. Yet, it’s not the exact same thing. There’s some good music but nothing you’ve heard before. Some intriguing movies but nothing you’ve seen before. That applies to everything. Similar in its nature but different in its contents.

That makes you curious beyond satiating. Pointing at everything and questioning like a four year old. Exhausting Park Jimin to his limit. Still, he answers everything. Laughs hard at some stupid ones. Is similarly intrigued when you tell him about how things are different in your world.

By the time he finally lets you know, that you’re finally near to your intended destination, you’ve been talking about Colleges. It was a two fucking hour long drive. A light snow from the previous night has decorated the world in a shiny glow under the sun. This place, where the party would be held is a cottage owned by Hoseok. And the moment your eyes land on it, you fall in love. Gives you that cosy feeling even before you get out of the car. It’s majestic, with white dust covering the roof. With the same white scattered around the ground. Not traditional. Has a pitched roof. Two story. Upper balcony covered in the same white blanket. Can a place be more beautiful than this?

“Wow..” You whisper under your breath. Jimin hears it anyway. Chuckles. You pay him no attention. Press your face against the window. Bask in the magical feeling. Get blinded by the glow that sun creates together with the snow.

“Right?” Jimin agrees with you. He turns off the engine. Unbuckles the belt and takes a breath. Stretches his stiff muscles after a long drive. You turn to him.

Oh! This magic is more appealing than the magic of the cottage.

Cold sun rays are creating beams of light on Jimin’s face. Changes his eye color into a lighter shade of brown. Like toasted caramel. Beautiful. Enchanting. Magic of Park Jimin.

Which is better? The feeling of warmth you feel now here with him or the feeling you’ll feel after you enter that cosy cottage. Easy. This feeling. Nothing will be able to compare. It’s better when he watches you with those eyes. Exquisite when he smiles at you. You’re melting. It’s a hard decision to look away. Fumbling with your seat belt and getting ready to join your (Jimin’s) friends.

“You’ll be fine right?” Jimin interrupts you. Apparently doesn’t like it when you pay little to no attention to him.

“Of course, I will. After you made me attend a fucking board meeting, Park, nothing is going to be worse than that.” You answer him pointedly. Open the door.

“Well yeah but uh...” He interrupts you again. This time you look at him annoyed. Not for real though. He doesn’t have to know that. “What?” You knit your brows. Jimin opens his mouth. Tries to say something then changes his mind. “Thank You!” He mumbles softly. That’s definitely not what he intended to say. You take it as that anyway. Roll your eyes.

“Move your ass, Park!” You exit the car. Giggle when you hear him lowly curses. Watch him get out. Walking to the trunk. You do the same. Stand close by to him when he starts to unload your very unnecessarily large suitcases. Because this is a mini-vacation apparently.

To say you were mad would be an understatement. The moment he let you know that this party is not just a party but a three days long stay at the cottage, you went feral. Was he kidding you? How the fuck are you going to manage a three-day long stay when you will disappear the moment you close your eyes. Then he came up with this brilliant idea. You’ll act like you have every intention of staying. And he will receive a call from his parents. Family emergencies. You’ll leave. All solved. It took him some time to make you agree but in the end you did. Of course, you did. People pleasers.

These unnecessarily large suitcases are part of the plan. Still, you think they are unnecessary. Scream overdoing it. Jimin is stupid. Extremely so. You grab one of the heavy luggage despite his protests.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Park. I can totally lift some weight okay. Be...” You lift it to take it away from the car. Clench your teeth. Put it down again. Heave for breath. Jimin is watching you with that glint in his eyes. “What the fuck did you pack here?” You change your course of subject. Jimin did all the packing. Most of things he packed were stupid. Hell, you even caught him packing a damn pillow. When you asked why he would need a pillow, he said he can’t sleep on other pillows. God only knows what other weird things he packed up.

“Well, nobody asked you to be a bad bitch and lift that alone.” Jimin points out. Fair. But who needs this much stuff. Especially, when you both know you won’t be staying a night at this place after all. You sigh exasperatedly. Ridiculous. Now you want to take this stupid luggage inside by all yourself. Just to prove him wrong. So, you huff. Bends down to lift the suitcase with your both hands. That’s when a very familiar, excited and a high-pitched voice reaches you.

“Noona...”

You straighten up and spin around. Jimin just whips his head. There’s no need of looking to know to whom that voice belongs to. In this world, there’s only one person who calls you Noona. And only one person who gets excited like a puppy to see you. That’s why you’re not surprised to find that the voice, indeed belongs to Jungkook. Standing on the front porch. Drowning in a black, large, puffy winter jacket. Like a penguin. His muscles hidden under a round form. A headband in his forehead to keep his long strands of hair away. He waves at you. Grinning from one ear to other.

You’re not surprised that it is Jungkook. You’re surprised, that he is here. You only get half a second to turn and look at Jimin. Surprised. Surprised as to why he never mentioned anything about Jungkook. Before you can have your answer, however, you’re wrapped in a pair of large hands. A yelp escapes your mouth while Jungkook pulls you into a bear hug.

“Noona.” He shouts in your ear this time. Making you wince. Is buzzing with excitement apparently. You return the hug. Pat his back. Grinning. The surprise of seeing him here wearing off. Replacing with excitement. “Hey Kookie. Surprised to see you here.” You let him bury your face in his jacket. Suffocating you. Jungkook giggles. Prettily. Lets you go after crushing your bones. Scratches the back of his neck.

“Ah it’s Namjoon. You know?” Says sheepishly. Bows to Jimin. Jimin, on the other hand, is blinking at him. Very impolite. No proper decorum at all. Takes a minute. And then suddenly grabs your hand. Yanks you to his side. You nearly stumble back at the ferocity of that movement. A sudden annoyance washes over you. Making you glare at him. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Jungkook looks confused as well. Innocently, gaping at Jimin. Lets out an awkward chuckle. Apparently is very confused about what he should do now. Uncomfortable. You feel the same kind of uneasiness. How rude of Jimin to act like this. You chuckle in reply to Jungkook. Awkwardly. In apology for your pretend boyfriend’s childish behaviour. Try to free your hand from Jimin’s iron grip subtly. He doesn’t let go. If anything, he tightens it even more, harder that you’re beginning worry about losing your hand. You put more force in trying to free your hand. Even hiss his name.

“Jimin..”

“What?” He snaps. Oh, that’s embarrassing.

There’s a tension building up in the air. Both you and Jungkook awkwardly chuckling while Jimin crushing your hand. Eyes intensely watching Jungkook. You’re actually starting to getting worried. Hence your breath of relief when a second very excited voice booms through the peaceful air of the cottage.

“Jiminiee....” Taehyung practically runs to Jimin. “You’re so fucking late man.” Complains. Yet makes Jimin free your hand when his hand wraps around Jimin. The tension pops out. Oh you’re glad. So incredibly glad. That’s the reason for placing your hands around Taehyung’s neck as soon as he lets Jimin go. You still don’t like Taehyung that much. Some choices you made, however, made you realize that you’re no saint to judge other people. So, you’ll start to like him from now on.

“Long time no see, Tae....” You pat his back affectionately. Just like you did with Jungkook. Pull away. Only to find Taehyung blinking at you. Mouth agape. As if he just got hugged by a damn celebrity and he can’t believe it. “What?” You question through your grin. Confused gaze shifting from Taehyung to Jimin. Have no idea why Taehyung looks like he is stunned to his core. Jungkook is sporting a similar look to you. Why’s everyone so weird? Jimin heaves a sigh. Grabs everyone’s attention. His hand curls over your shoulders. Pulls you to his body.

“A good mood.” Mumbles. “Good fucking mood.” Mumbles again. You don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Nor does Jungkook, if his pout is anything to goes by. Taehyung apparently does know. Twists his mouth. Raises his eyebrows. Shrugs his shoulders and nods. Accepts what Jimin said, whatever that is. Then goes back to his normal self. Like a switch was off and just got on. Grins happily and offers his help with your over packed luggage. So does Jungkook. Eagerly takes that heavy suitcase you were struggling with. You don’t even protest. Just know he would do that anyway. Simply thank him and follow them inside. Ignoring the scowl on Jimin’s face. Free yourself again from his embrace.

He is ridiculous.

............................

If you think you fell in love when you saw the cottage under the sunlight, now you want to find a way to get married to an immovable property. The interior is breath fucking taking. Makes you suck in a harsh breath when you finally go inside. Eyes going wide again. Taking in every single details about this magnificent place. Engraving them into your memory.

The dark hardwood flooring. Furnishings and decor. Upscale. Elegant. Has a real fucking fireplace, stone framed. The golden hue seeping inside through the large windows. Woolen carpets. Plushy upholstery. The entire place scream comfort. Lavish. You aren’t the least bit surprised when Taehyung and Jungkook very competitively describe about the spacious, fully equipped kitchen. And then of course, about the hot tub.

Jimin’s hand is back around you. He doesn’t give a two shit about how your whole body trembles when he does that. Apparently, you’re a good actress to be able hide your flattering. Still, you want him to give you space. For the sake of your poor heart. Good thing you can distract yourself by the gracious view of this place.

In fact you love this. Really get the urge to jump up and down when someone enters the living area from a door to your left. Prevents you from doing so. Someone you haven’t met before. You eye him curiously. Jimin, however, finally takes his hand away off your shoulders to greet the man. Beaming.

“Now this is what they call a miracle. How the hell Hoseok managed to get your ass here?” Jimin exclaims in surprise. Hands already wrapping around the stranger. The said stranger, though, instantly starts to make a fuss about it. Pushing Jimin away and shouting ‘don’t’ and ‘no’. Jimin doesn’t relent. Keeps crushing the poor man. Until this man, with black hair, which is long enough, the end of his hair touches his shoulders, gives up. Pats Jimin’s back too. Laughs hard. And you swoon at that gummy smile.

“You haven’t met Yoongi right?” Taehyung startles you by whispering in your ear. “Huh?” You turn to him.

“That’s Yoongi. Hoseok’s cousin. You’ve heard of him surely but haven’t met him right?” He questions back. Now, you don’t know if you have or not. What if Liya has met him and you say no. So, you just stare at Taehyung’s ridiculously handsome face. Feeling glad when Jimin comes to your rescue.

“This is Yoongi. We knew each other back in college.” Jimin is giving you a look. A look that clearly indicate you indeed have heard about him. You instantly break into a most polite yet friendliest kind of smile you could perform. Hold your hand towards the man with the gummy smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Have heard a lot about you.” Say while praying that you’re not overreacting. You’re not. Jimin gives you an approving nod when you look back at him. “Likewise.” Yoongi politely smiles back. Shakes your hand and bows. The way he carefully measures you not slipping from your eyes.

Taehyung sighs dreamily as you let Yoongi’s hand go. Grabbing everyone’s attention. Throws his arm over Jungkook’s neck. “Isn’t this great.” Another dreamy sigh. “What a perfect friend group we have.” Turns to Jungkook. “Even though I only know your name. But guess what? I don’t even care. I already love you.” Says with a straight face. You and Jungkook both snorts. Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah? What do you say then? Want to get to know each other friend?” Jungkook asks from Taehyung.

“Hell yeah! And... Where the fuck is Hobi?” Taehyung looks elated. He has a bubbly personality. You think Jungkook is the best person to go with that. Taehyung takes a look around. Save for these few people here, cottage almost looks vacant. Then it turns a facade when Teahyung shouts through top of his lungs. The sound nearly sounding like ‘Hobi’.

Just at that glass shattering shriek. As if it is a some kind of summoning signal. The comfy living room starts to fill with people. Like cats. Sauntering. Rushing. Smiling. Complaining. Seoyeon being the first to pop her head inside the living room. Her face gleaming with pure excitement and surprise when she sees you. And she loses her shit like the last time you saw her. Now though, you know better than to be surprised. You hug her back. In the same way you would hug Key. Seoyeon is the one who pulls away first.

“How come you’re here Bae? I thought you have plans?” She grabs your shoulders. Shaking you slightly. Wondering. There goes another thing you don’t know how to answer. To be honest, you to this moment, have no idea what’s the reason you’re here instead of Liya. When you asked, Jimin shrugged you off. Said just some issues. Despite your curiosity you don’t wish to pry into his relationship. Whatever happens behind the closed doors is their problem. You’re here to help a friend. That’s it. Jimin saves you again.

“Plans change, Seoyeon.” He says with a tight-lipped smile. You nod in assent. Seoyeon takes it as an answer luckily . Lets you go reluctantly when you are pulled into a hug by J. Well, of course she is here if Jungkook is. So does Namjoon. You catch him enter the room with Hoseok and another unfamiliar woman. Woman turns out to be Namjoon’s girlfriend. Namjoon introduces her as Yoona. You exchange some nice and polite pleasantries with her. Take an immediate liking to the way she makes you feel comfortable when you’ve just met.

You take turn in saying hi to everyone present. Ignore all the long glances they give you. Especially Hoseok and Jin. As if they are beyond surprised. Ignore it when Hoseok scoffs as you thank him profusely, when he shows you, your room.

“Looks like she’s back in a good mood Jiminie.” He pats Jimin’s back before leaving you alone in the room. Leaving a scowling Jimin behind. For you to deal with.

“What was that?” You ask, gaping at the now-closed door.

“Nothing.” Jimin shakes his head.

.......................

You sit squashed between Jimin and Jungkook. Back in the cozy living room. On the couch in front of the fireplace. Everyone somehow finds a spot to sit down. Ready to listen to a briefing for the three days you’ll stay here. Or for the days they’ll stay here. Everyone is offended, finding the idea to be ridiculous. Gasping and complaining. It’s supposed to be a relaxing holiday. Not a leadership camp where there will be assigned tasks. Yet, apparently these business people can’t get through it without a proper plan. Hence, this very unannounced and unprepared meeting in the living room.

Taehyung is the only businessman who���s complaining like the rest of you. You, as Kim Liya, aren’t supposed to complain. Can’t help it though. So, you join with the ninety nine percenters here. Showing your displeasure.

“What the fuck Hobi? Why did ever I fucking agreed to come here?” The man with feline eyes, Yoongi, complains from his place. Sitting uncomfortably besides Namjoon’s girlfriend.

“Because you love me Yoongi. Now shut the fuck up, everybody. Just because you whine, I’m not going to change my plans. Listen carefully alright.” Hoseok says to Yoongi before clapping his hands. Ignores the way Yoongi asks him to go fuck himself. Ignores all your protests. Makes you chuckle. Makes Jimin chuckle. You can feel the rumble in his chest.

He has his hands around your waist. Is possessively keeping you pressed against his body. Deliberately away from Jungkook. Oh, only if you could roll your eyes to the back of your head.

See, now you think it’s dangerous to be this close to him. You need to keep your distance. He may be just doing a great job at treating you like his girlfriend. For you, however, it is becoming hard to control your fluttering tummy and pounding heart. Even when you know this is just an act, it’s becoming hard to pay attention to anything else than Park Jimin.

That’s why you try to create some distance between you. Very subtly and slowly. Jimin on the other hand, tightens his grip every time you move. There’s no escape.

“Stop fidgeting around Lil.” He whispers against your ear. Shifts in his position. His back slotting between the corner of the headrest and armrest. Drags you against his chest. Places his chin on your shoulder.

Oh fuck!

“What the hell are you doing Park?” You hiss for the hundredth time since you came here.

“What do you think? I’m keeping my girlfriend close to me.” He answers nonchalantly.

“Is this really necessary?” You whispers, being mindful to keep your voice low so Jungkook won’t overhear you.

“Yes.” Jimin says sternly.

You sigh heavily before giving up. Better play along with it if you can’t avoid it. Hence, why you completely give in. Trying to distract your racing heart and mind by paying attention to Jung Hoseok. Who’s been talking animatedly for a better five minutes now. It’s not working very effectively. Not when Jimin snakes his hands around you. Squeezes you. He is fucking overdoing. Even Jin and Taehyung are giving you weird looks. So does Hoseok. Maybe everyone else does the same. You caught Jungkook gaping at you out of the corner of his eye, two times already. And now he turns fully to look at you.

You give him an awkward smile. Trying to act normal. He reciprocates it. Turns back to Hoseok.

“Okay, so now you know what will happen to your elegant asses if you break my grandma’s very precious vases.” Hoseok says with a very wicked smile. Shit, it’s bad you have no idea what questionable things he would do to your poor ass, if you mistakenly hit your toe in a wood pedestal. You’ve not been paying attention at all. It’s Jimin’s fault.

“Seriously, Hobi, you invited us all here to give life lessons about how to be responsible and shit?” This time it’s Namjoon who whines. His girlfriend lets out an amused chuckle when Hoseok points his finger to Namjoon.

“Especially, you Namjoon-ah. Especially you. Try breaking something and you’ll know how nice I can be.” Hoseok threatens. Namjoon huffs. Rolls his eyes. It looks like Hoseok and Namjoon are more than acquaintances. Given that Hoseok invited Namjoon here with his girlfriend and even extended that invitation to Jungkook and J as well. How nice of him.

“Ugh! fucking get done with this shit ,Hyung. I’m getting bored already.” Taehyung lifts his head from the couch head rest. Man really looks sleepy. Rest of the room agrees with him. Even Jimin makes some noises of complains in your ear.

“Okay, okay, I’m getting there. So…. Moving into the plans for these three days we sta-”

“Why would we need fucking plans? Why can’t we just do whatever we want. Drink, and party.” J interrupts Hoseok before he can start his important briefing. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, J is sitting on a vintage loveseat with Jin. Casually leaning against him. Since when they are so close? When did you miss something? “Because this way, it’s easier.” Seoyeon voluntarily answers that question. J scoffs. Scrunches up her face as Taehyung disagrees with his girlfriend. Making Seoyeon defensive. Opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

“What? It is stupid to have plans for all the fucking stu─” Taehyung leans forward to emphasize his point. Or he just obviously wants to take someone else’s side other than his girlfriend. They don’t look like a couple at all. J and Jin appear to be a better couple than them. You think it’s good that Hoseok disturbs Taehyung’s levity.

“Are you going to let me finish this today, Tae?” He quirks his brow. Taehyung gives him a long look. Yet, in the end decides it’s better to get through this meeting fast. It seems. Slumps back in the couch next to Jungkook.

“Okay, don’t ask questions at all if you have any. And don’t interrupt me. AT. ALL.” Hoseok begins again. “First things first…” He purses his lips. Looks somewhat guilty. You can tell the whole room goes into instant doubt at his expression. No one questions anything, however. “As you can see... uh... it’s only us here... like no servants, no chefs, no cleaners... so, what I’m trying to say is─” Someone interrupts him. That someone being Jungkook.

“That’s no problem we won’t make any messes. We can clean after ourselves.” He says that so innocently. But you know that’s not Hoseok wants. You know everyone else knows that it’s not what he meant. Hence, that smile of pity adorning his lips.

“That’s so nice Jungkookie.” Hoseok nods in approval. Takes a nervous glance at the rest of you.

“What is it, Hyung?” Jimin finally quirks up. Voicing his concerns loud. Scepticism laced in his voice. A beat of silence passes where you all stare into Hoseok’s face. To a point the curiosity became unbearable. Jimin takes the chance in for all of your benefit. Straightens up. Forces you to straighten up too. “Don’t fucking tell me that you want us to fucking cook, clean and do all the shits by ourselves.” Jimin screeches in your ear.

“And do the grocery shopping. There are nothing edible in here.” Hoseok answers Jimin so calmly. But makes everyone’s head whip to him in light speed. Gasps of disbelief filling the room up. Quickly turning into one white noise of complaints.

“What the fuck Hobi?”

“Seriously dude!”

“Want us to do what now?”

“Yah! I thought this was a relaxing holiday.”

“Shit I came here to live the luxury life I can’t afford. Now I have to cook? And clean?”

“I hate fucking grocery shopping.”

“Dude, there’s no single shop within a 50-kilometre radius here.”

All the complaints are entangling. It’s almost impossible to make out who’s saying what. Looks like someone threw a stone into a hive. Hoseok takes a deep breath. Stays silent for a minute, allowing his friends to throw their tantrums before shouting above all the noises.

“Shut the fuck up, y’all. Don’t fucking act like damn kids. You fools cook all your meals anyway. What’s the big problem doing it here?” He questions, placing his hands on his hips. It’s Yoona who smartly answers that question.

“That’s exactly the problem here Hobi. We do that every day, and we came here to do nothing. We came here to party and get drunk. Have sex...” Namjoon’s ears go red at that, but she ignores him. Couple of people protest of the idea of having sex part but she ignores them as well. “And relax. Do you get me, Hobi? We came here to act like we are fucking rich!” Finishes her aggravated rant. You all agree with her. Nods and unrecognizable noises or approvals.

“Well, too bad for you fuckers. Hate to break it to you but if you don’t cook, no food. If you don’t go shopping, you can eat the fucking snow. And…. If someone doesn’t get the fireworks done, there’ll be no fireworks tonight.” He claps his hands one more time. Sits back. Is done with trying to convince his friends. No argues are allowed. The room is back into an awkward silence before it goes all frantic yet again.

“You want us to set the fireworks up?” Jimin leans even more forward. Doesn’t let you go though. Annoying. Good thing you are questioning Hoseok up. No time to worry about Jimin’s hands. “Does anyone know how to do that?” You question but no one answer your question in particular.

“This is the best fucking party I’ve ever been to. Thought you were damn rich Hoseok.” Yoongi almost gets to his feet. Yoona drags him back to his seat.

“Wait. Wait, guys.” Says but that goes into deaf ears. So, she rises her voice an octave. “GUYS!” That works. All eyes are on her now. “Guys... I know we all want to kill our host, but we can’t...” Throws a murderous glance to Hoseok. Which he dismisses with an eye roll. “Unfortunately.” Yoona adds. Sighs heavily. “So, I guess since we are all here now and not like that, we can go back either─”

“Oh, I totally can go back.” Yoongi says that to Hoseok.

“You can Yoongi, but you won’t. I’ll glue your ass into the chair if you try to.” Hoseok replies. Sassily. Two cousins glare at each other for a minute before Yoona picks up again. “Yes, so since nobody would leave, I think it’s better we accept our destinies.” She looks at every person.

“You want us to drive back for groceries, Noona?” Jungkook questions her.

“Do you know what else we can do?” Yoona throws another unpleasant glance at Hoseok. He is whining now. Saying something about how everyone is stupidly dramatic. Jungkook sighs next to you.

“Ah fuck! Why do I feel like I’ve been scammed?” He mumbles. J agrees eagerly. “Right? It’s your fault Joonie, you dragged us here. Deceived us.” Says to Namjoon.

The guy’s jaw drops down. Eyes wide. “What did I do? I asked, and you guys were like over the fucking moon.” Defends himself.

J leans up. “Jungkook did. I didn’t.” Gestures to Jungkook. He gasps. “I fucking did no─” Starts but J cuts him down.

“Oh, come on, all Namjoon had do to was say that Miss Liya would be there, and you jumped headfirst.” She exposes Jungkook heartlessly, making him go pink. You whip your head to him. He did what now? Why? He stutters something about how that’s not true, as Jimin’s hand impossibly tightens around you. Divert your attention from Jungkook to him. Is this guy serious? He leans back down. You turn your head slightly to catch him burning holes into Jungkook’s already reddened face. Fucking absurd.

“All right my dear friends. Enough.” It’s Jin who finally decides he needs to get the kids under control. Jimin told you he is the oldest. Was complaining like the youngest a minute ago, however. Miraculously, has got his head up apparently. “Like Yoona said, either we will work and survive or go back.” Gestures to the door with his thumb. “Or die here.” Adds that on a second thought. A couple of whines leaves but no one’s saying no. Jin continues. “Let’s get into this again, shall we?” Leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. Interlaces his fingers together. Knits his eyebrows. Well, now, you think he looks like a CEO. For the rest of the three co-owners of RUN, you think they are still in high school. Jin looked the same a second ago. The duality.

“So, who’s going to get the groceries?” Jin questions. And for the first time, the room goes into a silence that a drop of a needle would sound like a bomb detonating. You take a look at everyone. Gasping when Jimin suddenly hides his face in your neck. Jungkook turns to Taehyung instantly. They start a very interesting conversation. Yoongi is on his phone with a deep focus. Yoona is clutching her stomach while Namjoon starts to console her. J is fucking sleeping. Seoyeon is inspecting her nails, as if this is the first time she saw them. Even Hoseok is finding something interesting on the ceiling. Being the only person without an interesting work to do, you yank Jimin’s hand into your face. What a safe place to hide.

“Yah! Seriously. You guys want to die?” Jin shrieks. Making all of you jump. Like that, the whines of complaints are back. Jin shushes you all, however. Just by glaring.

“Let’s draw names.” He says calmly. Nobody says anything. Just blinking at his handsome face. “Let’s draw names and assign chores to everyone.” Jin briskly gets up.

“But that’s not fair…” Taehyung starts.

“Shut up, Taehyung.” Jin disappears through a door.

…………………………………….

“Okay, here’s how this goes. You pick a name from here” Jin shakes the bowl with piece of papers in his hand. “It’s not like we have to clean anything up until we make a mess. So, we will figure that shit tomorrow. For now, kids, we want three people for groceries, three to cook, three to set up the fireworks. Two will manage the decorations. All good?” He questions. You badly wish to be assigned to decoration. That’s the easiest task here. Jin shakes the bowl again after you all nod.

“We all will pick names up. I’ll start and J, Joon pick a one too. Whoever’s name is on our hands, they are going to be assigned for cooking.” Everyone nods again. Apparently, have accepted the cruel fates. Rest of you watch the three of them picks papers up. Unfold. Smiles of relief wash over their faces. Which mean only one thing— none of them picked their names up.

“I got Yoongi.” J exclaims happily. Yoongi groans loudly. J’s smile quickly vanishes. “At least you don’t have to go grocery shopping now.” She says to Yoongi with the realization of she isn’t safe yet. “I got Jungkook.” Jin says, showing the paper to Jungkook. He groans slightly too. Everyone’s attention turn to Namjoon. “It’s Liya.” He says casually. It takes you almost a minute and a nudge from Jimin to realise that it’s your call.

“Me?” You question.

“Yes, you.” Namjoon answers. You slump in your seat. Cooking is too much work. Groan in complain like the rest of your assigned partners did. Jungkook, however, is back to ecstatic mood the moment Namjoon says the name ‘Liya’. “Noona.” He elbows your side. Gives a thumbs up. “I’m good at cooking don’t worry.” Says with that goofy grin. Apparently, it’s not only Jimin who’s absurd here. Jungkook is crazy too. Why would he be that happy to partner with you. How fucking random is this guy?

“Yah yah! This isn’t fair. Let’s draw that round again.” You’re blinking at Jungkook when Jimin protests. Frowning. Shakes his head violently. Others ask him to fuck off. “No, Jimin. You do what you’re assigned to do. No negotiations.” Jin finalises the cooking crew. Jimin is pouting hard. You’re gaping at him. He really is something. You’re surrounded by crazy people.

“Okay now for the fireworks.” Jin passes the bowl to Yoona. She, Yoongi, and Hoseok draw some names out.

“Ah it’s Hoseok.” Yoona practically yells in excitement. Rest join in with her.

“Suck it up you idiot.” Yoongi shows his pink gums again. Hoseok curses everyone out. Shows both of his middle fingers. Amidst the painful chore assignments, everyone has a moment of pure joy at Hoseok’s misery. Then the task is back on the run. Yoongi unfolds his paper. Looks at Jin. “It’s you” Says and shows the name written on. Jin blinks at Yoongi. “Fuck. Great.” Cups his cheeks.

“Karma is a bitch, Jin.” J says sternly. Hoseok looks at his paper too. Is very despondent. “It’s Seoyeon.” Mutters under his breath. Throws the paper away. Seoyeon’s eyes go wide.

“But I don’t know how to do that.” Points out the obvious.

“No do we Seoyeon.” Jin makes it worse. “We’ll find a way though.” Nods in assurance. Well, good for them. Hoseok gives the bowl to still wide-eyed Seoyeon. She picks one up like a robot. Passes the bowl Taehyung. He does the same and hands it to Jungkook.

“This is for groceries.” Jin announces. Seoyeon is the one who first glances at the name. Lets out a noise. “It’s Jimin.” Says timidly. Jimin whines so loudly next to you.

“Fucking hell! Can’t we trades tasks with someone else?” Wonders.

“NO Negotiations, Park Jimin.” Jin reminds. Jimin slides out of the couch on to the floor. You nudge him with your foot.

“Yah! Don’t be fucking dramatic.” You mutter when he grabs your foot and holds on to it. Brilliant. Now you have to deal with that too. You try to free your foot when Taehyung gasps.

“How fucking cruel is my destiny. It’s me. I chose my own fucking name.” He shows his cruel fate to everyone. Jungkook pats his back in pity. Unravels the next person who will face their fate. Looks at that name. Snorts. Beams. His whole face lightening up. Starts laughing hardly. His pats on Taehyung’s back turn into slaps.

“Who is it?” Yoona perks up. Some other people too. Including Jimin who’s still holding on to your foot. Jungkook finds it hard to calm down. Is buzzing with happiness.

“J… It... it’s J…” Manages through his giggles. “Aahh... This is finally fun.” Shakes a very bewildered Taehyung by his neck.

“Oh, you fucking asshole!” J almost reaches him when Jin grabs from her hoodie.

“We want him alive, please.” He says as he makes a scowling and pouting J sit back. Jungkook holds the bowl to you. There’s no need to look at the last two names. You take it anyway. Pick both papers but don’t look at them.

“Well, it’s obviously you two who are left. So, it’s you on the decoration duty.” You say to the Yoona and Namjoon. They exchange an excited look.

“See, this is the destiny.” Namjoon says to Yoona very dramatically. She wipes an imaginary tear off. Most of you roll your eyes’. Yoona nods in agreement with Namjoon for a second. Then she freezes. Something clicks on her mind.

“Wait, wait.” She holds a hand up.

“What?” Namjoon quirks.

“You’re clumsy as hell baby. You’re going to double my workload.” She says. Namjoon gasps in disbelief.

“Can we exchange partners?” Yoona looks hopefully at everyone.

“NO!” That’s the first time everyone agrees into one thing. Or not. Jimin is all down for the idea. Perking up happily and hugging your leg.

………………………………..

The preparations for the midnight party are going well according to the plans. You have to wait until Jimin and others are back with the groceries to start preparing your meals. You, Yoongi, and Jungkook are given the freedom to choose whatever you want to cook. So, you chose Jjimdak paired with rice and some other side dishes. Yoongi and Jungkook apparently are very aware of what they are doing. So do you, but you’re not the best. Baking is your forte. Cooking is not. You can manage though.

The three of you just kill time in kitchen, getting to know each other. Joking and laughing. Bonding. Min Yoongi is a great guy to your judgment. Doesn’t like physical affections at all. Nor does he like waking up in the morning. Who does? Is lazy like a cat but works hard when he puts his heart and mind into something. You like him. You already like Jungkook. He lets you know that he or J finished his essay. You know it’s J who did.

“You are a vlogger?” Jungkook leans over the kitchen island. You do the same. You both gaping at Yoongi.

“What?” The guy in attention asks as his ears go adorably red. “Wow....” You and Jungkook chime in. “That’s fucking amazing. What kind of vlogs do you make?” You add the last part. Yoongi waves his hand off.

“Oh, c’mon, what’s so amazing there? You own a damn business, Miss CEO.” He points out. Oh, shoot, you always forget that. It’s your turn to wave it off. Shrug it away.

“Tell us what kind of vlogs you do Mr. Min. We wanna know.” Ask instead. Look at Jungkook to see if he agrees. He does with a firm nod.

“Aahh... Mainly travel vlogs. But I do other things too. Like daily vlogs. Studio tou—” Jungkook’s gasp is what disturbs Yoongi. “What studio?” He is genuinely curious, and so are you.

“Photography?” Yoongi raises his brow.

“Wow....” You and Jungkook chime in again. “You are a vlogger and a photographer? How many subscribers do you have? Do you have fans? Did you study photography? Is it a side hustle?” Jungkook is practically standing now.

“Jungkook..” You try to make him sit back and stop being so nosy. But Yoongi chuckles and fishes for his phone. Shows you his channel. You both peer at the screen. Eyes going wide.

“15 fucking million?” You’re in sync with Jungkook again. “You have 15 fucking million subscribers?” You gasp. Are on your feet too. You and Jungkook both standing and leaning over the counter. Crowding Yoongi’s space. “I’m uh... Closer to sixteen now actually.” Yoongi states with a bashful expression.

“Holy fuck, Hyung. Do you work alone?” Jungkook asks again while you sit back. Blinking in disbelief. Yoongi says something about having a crew. Of course, it’s a huge channel, he would need a staff to handle that. You grab from Jungkook’s hoodie to make him sit.

“Please hire me too. I’m good at editing. If you do, I can drop out of the university.” Jungkook says with a straight face. You ask Yoongi to hire you too. He snorts. Which turns into a laugh. So, you all laugh. Keep conversing about life and stuff. Listening to Yoongi’s best vlogs and Jungkook’s nosy roommate.

Others left on the cottage have started their assigned works right away. You hear the sounds of annoyance and complains from the backyard. Hear something clatter and shatter from the living room. Makes you worried for Namjoon’s ass. Yet, nothing happens. Fortunately. Namjoon is quite safe, even when you are starting to cook finally. Jimin, J and Taehyung are back with groceries enough for a whole week.

“Why would you buy so many water bottles? There’s clean water here.” Jin peers into the still unsorted grocery bags. You and Jungkook are taking out what you need to prepare your dinner. Jimin is sitting on a kitchen island stool. Taehyung next to him. The kitchen is too crowded and is putting Yoongi on the edge.

“Yah! Will you lot go away? Are you finished with the fireworks Jin?” He looks up from the recipe he has been looking in his phone. “Nope.” Jin casually answers.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here? Go back.” Yoongi waves his hand. In a motion shooing Jin away. The bugger isn’t even budging, however.

“I’m done with that two. Hoseok wants to launch Seoyeon into the sky.” He informs as taking a seat on the other side of Jimin. Taehyung snorts loudly when everyone gives him a judgmental look. He mouths a ‘what?’. Unbelievable.

“Well, I don’t care, Seokjin. Go away, and take these two with you. And maybe you can launch my cousin into the sky as a favour to me.” Yoongi gestures at Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin instantly grabs the kitchen island. As if Jin will drag him across the floor. “I am not going anywhere Hyung.” He states, catching your eye. Is he here because of you? You roll your eyes.

“Seriously Jimin? You’re crowding the space. Go away. Shoo. Shoo.” You walk over, waving a napkin at him. Jimin just watches you approaching. That familiar glint on his eyes. Challenging you. You should’ve expected it when he turns around to face you. Grabs your hand. Gives you only a second to process. “I.” Yanks you to him. Your eyes go wide. “Will.” Turns you around. Your mouth drop open. “Not.” Pulls you onto his lap. “Go anywhere.” Says in your ear. You squeak. Of course he would.

Heat starts to rush into your face. He is really impossible. And is certainly overdoing. It’s confirmed when Jin shouts a ‘Hey’ along with you. You’re mortified. Especially, when Jimin turns around on his stool with you still on his lap. Forcing you to face the people on the room. You look at Jungkook and Yoongi with your face on fire. Yoongi ignores your silly games. Sighs heavily before paying his attention to the recipe back. Jungkook looks you in the eye, however. Face void of emotions, but awkwardly smiles when he catches you looking.

God! Even with being shy, you like this. Like the way Jimin just casually hides his face in the crook of your neck. In front of everyone. Like how his hands protectively curls around you. Your brain is going haywire. Heart starting to pound against your ribcage. Here you go again. You need to put distance.

You pat Jimin’s hand. “Okay, do whatever you want. Just let me go Jimin. I need to help.” You mutter that into his ear. Turning your head uncomfortably. Jimin gives you a look. For a minute, it appears he won’t listen. “Let go Jimin.” You say bit sternly again. Raise your brows. And practically pry his hands off you. He keeps you on his hold for another long minute. Then frees you. You swear you see something flicker in his eyes. Like hurt. Is furrowing his brows deeply. There’s no reason to be hurt, however. So, you ignore that and start washing vegetables following Yoongi’s instructions.

Jimin doesn’t go away. Stays in his place. So do Jin and Taehyung. Bugs the life out of you. Poke their heads into everything. Taehyung and Jin do. Jimin is awfully quiet. You decide to let it go. Think he’ll come around.

There was an uneasy tension in the room after the first minute when you retrieved back to your work from Jimin’s lap. Feels like your fault. So, you do your best to make small talks, jokes and keep the conversation flows. It takes some time but, in the end, you’re laughing hard again. So hard that you have to press your forehead into Jungkook’s arm or chest to control yourself. Hands preoccupied with cutting vegetables for side dishes. Jungkook laughs too. Everyone does, including Yoongi sometimes. Everything is back to fun.

Only one who doesn’t is the blonde man. You would’ve been more worried if you had noticed. But you don’t. Not at least until you’re back in your room. Not until he simply asks you to use the shower first and then leaves you alone.

Oh, did something happen?

……………………………

The dinner that you poured your heart and soul into went rather well. Everyone praised you. You passed all the compliments to Jungkook and Yoongi. Because it’s them who really did the hard work. You just did what they asked you to. Now the dinner was over, and everyone is cozied up back in the living room, music flowing through the giant speakers. Yoongi had brought them apparently. You sit on the couch again. Sipping red wine. The plan was you’ll drink but Jimin won’t. He has to drive back. In the middle of the night. There’s snow falling. Gives you a bad feeling about leaving early. Leaving this cozy place into the cold winter.

Jimin is in the other corner of the room. Is in black slacks. White button down shirt, untucked. Sleeves rolled up. Chelsea boots. Rings adorning his fingers. That god damn earing is back. You noted that he doesn’t wear it always, but you do like it too much when he does. Blonde hair groomed well and shining under the gold hue in the cottage.

Somewhere between your meal preparation and returning to the room, something definitely happened. Jimin has been very moody for quite while. Haven’t talked to you for a sometime now. Or haven’t talked on good terms. Just a few words exchanged here and there. See, now you want to act nonchalant and not give a fuck. You came here as a good friend. And are doing him a favour. He shouldn’t be treating you this way. He does. And instead of minding your own business, you’re so worried.

He even disregarded you when you asked him if he likes your dress. The dress you brought. The dress as in, champagne colour. Long sleeves. Covers up to ankles but has a long slit up to your upper thigh. Has a deep cut neckline to show just the right amount of cleavage. Fits you perfectly in your curves. You felt beautiful in it. Was it so wrong to expect a compliment from Jimin? Why do you expect that anyway? Why did you feel a pang in your chest when he just dismissed you?

He is preposterous. For acting that way. Not giving a second of his attention for you but doubling over with laughter when Hoseok says something. You can’t fathom what’s wrong. Why is he giving cold shoulder to you? Earlier in the day he was all over you. Practically clinging to your side. Sure, he must’ve been doing a great acting. But still confuse you that he suddenly isn’t? What went wrong?

You are forced to avert your gaze away when someone plops down next to you. That someone being Seoyeon as she casually leans her head in your shoulder. Relaxes. You just let her. Focus on Jimin. It’s becoming tiring now.

“I hate Taehyung.” She blurts that out completely out of the blue.

“Huh?” You try your best to take a look at her face.

“I hate my boyfriend Liya. I hate him.” She repeats. You can’t see her face. Her hair covers her face completely. Yet, you can hear the hurt in her voice. Fuck, this is something that the package doesn’t include. You’re supposed to be Jimin’s girlfriend and that’s it. This thing with Seoyeon shouldn’t be your problem. Especially, when you don’t know what you should tell her now.

“Um… why is that?” You cautiously and uncomfortably ask. Eyes wandering to Jimin back. Need him to barge in and save you. He catches you looking but disregard you cruelly. There’s that pang again.

“You know why?” Seoyeon brings your attention back to her. How could you know?

“Um... well... is that because... you know?” You are not sure what you’re talking about. Funny how she nods. You let out a sneaky breath. Good. You’re doing just fine. Seoyeon straightens up suddenly. Is very drunk already. Points at Taehyung having a happy conversation with J and Jungkook.

“See? See how happy he is? Why can’t he be that happy with me?” Her voice sounds whiny. You take a look at Taehyung. Then back at Seoyeon. She looks like she is about to cry. You’re starting to panic. Oh God, you have no idea how to console her. On top of everything you feel shit to know that Taehyung cheats and you can’t tell her. So, you just open your mouth without a word leaving.

“I try my best you know?” She is asking from you. “Try my best to be the one for him. But he just doesn’t care. Why? Why he can’t… just…” Her voice cracks. Oh shit, shit, shit. She is going to cry. You don’t know what to do. You put your hand on her thigh tentatively.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry now. I… mean... what I mean is... you know... if he can’t see your worth that’s his problem. You… you shouldn’t be ruining your day thinking about that.” What are you talking about. Seoyeon gives you a deadpan look.

“Like it’s that easy.” At least her teared-up eyes are dry now.

“I know it’s not easy Seoyeon but─”

“Why are you calling me by my full name?” She looks at you curiously. You throw another look at Jimin. He isn’t at where he was a minute ago. Oh, you need him now. You clear your throat. Are about to say something you’re not sure of when she starts again.

“Well, yeah whatever, I shouldn’t cry. That’s the moral of the story.” Smiles very drunkenly. Another breath of relief leaves past your lips. You want her to go. She doesn’t. So, you cheer for her. Gulp down the remainder of your wine. Use that as an excuse to leave for a refill.

“Wait?” She interrupts you. You sit back, whining mentally. “How are you back to be so lovey dovey? I mean that’s cringy as hell dude but I’m happy. But also so surprised to see Jimin all over you. Did something happen? Like did you fight to a point of breakup and then realized you can’t live without each other. Should I try that tactic with my man?” Seoyeon looks back at Taehyung. You, however, is dumbfounded. What does she mean? She is surprised to see Jimin all over you? God, you don’t know how to answer these questions.

It’s becoming unbearable at this point. Maybe, at a different time where your mind isn’t so preoccupied with wondering what’s wrong with Park Jimin. At a time where you don’t feel so restless. You would have managed to come up with something clever and plausible. Not now though. You want out. Want to find out what you did wrong that Jimin is back to avoiding you.

Seoyeon is still hopefully looking at you. You sigh heavily. The first thing comes to your mind is communication. The thing everyone says to be very important. So, you lecture her about good communication. Something you heard from a movie. Finally, excuse yourself for more alcohol. Leaving behind a Seoyoen who’s lost in her head.

Good communication, your foot. You need to find Park Jimin. Even though you don’t want to seem caring. Because, why would you care? Why do you feel like you need to apologise? Fix things. You don’t want to. But still, you will.

That was your pure intention when you spot him entering the kitchen with Taehyung. Just as you put the bottle of wine back. They stumble inside. You catch Jimin’s eyes. Keep your gaze without wavering. They both stop middle in the kitchen. An awkward silence falls. Only for a moment. Taehyung breaks the silence with an unnecessarily loud noise.

“My best friend’s beautiful girlfriend….” He yells. Makes Jimin winces next to him. Practically sprints to you when Jimin grabs him by the shirt collar.

“Yah! Let me properly welcome my best friend’s girlfriend dude.” Taehyung complains as he wiggles in Jimin’s grasp. It’s not been long since the drinks started to appear. You find it beyond hilarious that there are people already babbling like Kim Taehyung.

“Fucking lightweights.” Jimin gives you a simple explanation. You nod accepting. Jimin lets Taehyung go after a couple minutes of struggling. He makes a beeline towards you. Wraps his hands around you from your side. Squeezes and sways you. Jimin heaves a sigh.

“Don’t fucking assault my girlfriend dude.” He has to drag Taehyung into a stool to save you. Taehyung is back to complaining. You giggle. If it weren’t for the sudden change of Jimin’s behaviour towards you. You might say this is one of the best days in your life. You hate this feeling. The feeling of restlessness at his aloof. You curiously watch Jimin silently fills a glass of water. Hands it to Taehyung despite his protests. Stare intensely at his face. As if that’ll give away some signals.

“This party is so fucking boring man. Isn’t it? Yah! It’s like we are at a business party. Why does everyone talk within themselves.” Taehyung puts the glass back on the counter with a bang. Watches between you and Jimin, waiting for either of you to agree. But when you don’t, he further clarifies his point.

“I mean, look at us. What were you doing all alone here future Mrs. Park?” He asks you. You point at your wine glass. “See, drinking alone. Why did you let this pretty woman drink alone Jiminie?” He asks Jimin. Jimin gives you a look. You shrug your shoulders. Taehyung bangs his fist on the counter. Startles you both then whine in pain.

“Ow... fuck... that hurt.” He waves his hand. Jimin scoffs.

“Good thing you still can feel pain.” Rubs his forehead in frustration. Taehyung ignores him.

“Well, let’s play a game.” Says excitedly. Already in his feet and leaving before you or Jimin can respond.

You sigh heavily. Now, finally you are alone with Park Jimin. So, you turn to him slowly. Nervously. He is already watching you.

“What is it?” Questions.

Well, it’s now or never.

“Why the fuck are you acting like I did something wrong?” You cross your arms under you chest. Trying to appear confidence. You may be feeling like you’re at wrong. But he doesn’t need to know that. You think his eyes instantly wander to your cleavage but he is looking away already.

“Like what?” Jimin regards you with curiosity. You gape at him.

“Like, why are you giving me a cold shoulder?”

“Why do you think I’m giving you cold shoulder?” He knits his eyebrows. You almost think you really might’ve read things wrong. Maybe, you’re expecting something you shouldn’t.

“I... I don’t know. You were like all over me when we came here and now you won’t even come near me.” Oh, fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. It sounds all wrong. There’s a silence fall down.

“ I thought you were uncomfortable when I did that. You were fidgeting around every time I’m around you.”

You take a minute to let that sink in. Well, you are uncomfortable when he is around. Just because he makes you tingle all over. Makes your sanity slip through your fingers. Makes your panties wet. It’s dangerous. Wait? Then why are you so worried when he doesn’t do that. Shouldn’t you be relieved?

“Huh?” Jimin pushes you. Takes a step forward. Suddenly, your mouth is dry.

“Well, that was because I thought uh... I thought─” You start but he interrupts you.

“You thought what Lil?” He asks.

“I...I thought that… uh...” You don’t know the answer yourself. Can’t say the real reason. Jimin shakes his head. Closes the gap between you entirely. The tip of his Chelsea boots touches your heels. Surprises you by placing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. You shiver. Doesn’t take his hand away. Sighs. There’s a certain softness in his eyes. You can melt under that. You are melting.

“You know what Spring roll? I think I get it. You don’t want me to touch you because you don’t. And that’s okay. It’s okay if you aren’t comfortable. I won’t do that again. It’s not okay for me touch you without your consent.” Takes his hands away.

Oh, no. That’s not the case at all. You want to correct him, but words are tangled in your mouth. He takes your silence as agreement. Keeps his gaze on you for a moment.

You need to tell him that’s not it. Good communication, remember? Then what would you tell? The truth? You rake your brain for a good excuse. Believable one. Your brain is blank apparently. And before you could process something else you are robbed of that opportunity. By Jungkook’s voice booming across the kitchen.

“Noona... we are doing noraebang.”

You snap your head to him. Smile softly. Jimin chuckles and steps away.

…………………..

There’s no noraebang machine. The alternative is to connect someone’s phone to the speakers. Play some music and sing along. There’s a mic though. And because drunk Taehyung is very creative, he comes up with a game. There’s no lyrics displaying. It’s blind karaoke. You need to recognize the song and sing along. Anyone who’s failed to do so need to take a shot. Everybody, apparently, is on the board. The problem is, there is no way in hell you would recognize any of these songs. You are already accepting defeat even before the game properly starts.

The first contestant is Jungkook. You watch him clears his throat when Namjoon happily plays a music in his phone. The sound echoes around through the speakers. You don’t recognize it. But most people here do. Yoona even starts to jump up and down in her seat. Jungkook furrows his brows. It’s already thirty seconds into the song, but he is still at a lost.

“That’s it.” Jin states.

“Take a shot.” Taehyung pours a shot.

“Yah! That’s not fucking fair, let me think.” Jungkook, offended and confused, takes a look around the room. Poor boy has no one on his side.

“It’s very fair. You need to recognize it within two fucking seconds.” Hoseok shows two fingers up while Taehyung forces a shot through Jungkook’s throat. Jungkook whines about how the rules aren’t clear, but nobody gives a shit. He gives up. Comes to the seat next to you and plops down.

“It’s not fair….is it?” Looks at you with a pout. You shake your head. “If you want to feel better, I’m not going to win a single round kookie. You’re good.” You pat his arm. He is in black from head to toe. His tattoos are covered inside his black shirt sleeve. Normally wild hair pushed away from his forehead. He looks exceptionally good. You must be crazy to keep your gaze all the time on the man in the white shirt. Can’t take your eyes. Maybe, it’s because there’s an unresolved problem between you. You feel this unsettled urge to go and talk to him. Have no courage, however. What will you say?

Think it’s better when it’s his chance now. Something to distract you. Jimin takes the mic. Keeps a burning gaze on Namjoon when he plays a different music. It’s impossible to guess a song by its first two seconds. Jimin failing just like Jungkook is the proof of that.

“Yah!! This shit is not fair man. The music didn’t even start.” Jimin yells. Running away from Taehyung who’s after him with a shot in his hand.

“It did.” Namjoon defends.

“No, it didn’t.” Jungkook is on Jimin’s side. So are you. That’s why you nod furiously.

“It totally did. I heard it.” Yoongi lazily quips with a reddened face. There’s a possibility he was dreaming but then Hoseok and Yoona are also vowing for Namjoon. All it takes is a minute for these drunk people to start arguing over some silly matter. Jimin is still darting around that loveseat. Taehyung chasing him.

“Ah... just take the shot and sit your ass down Jimin-ah.” Jin bellows frustratingly. Is sitting again with J. You give them a sceptical look before J jumps onto her feet. Starts chasing your pretend boyfriend. How unfair? You twitch in your seat. Watching the run and chase happening in the room. Laughter and cheers following. You want to take Jimin’s side. Think he would not like that, however. So, you just watch it when Jungkook joins the game. Finally, they along with Jungkook catch Jimin. Forces that shot into him.

He’s not supposed to be drinking.

……………………………………….

The game continues afterward. It goes from wild to berserk quickly. Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Yoona, and very surprisingly Taehyung proves to you that two seconds is enough to recognize a song. The rest of you are just bad it appears. Still, no one is as bad as you. The only person who drowned five shots already. You’re wobbling on your feet. Now matching with Kim Taehyung’s level of drunkenness. You have no idea since when the game changed. But now you’re into singing. Like really singing with bad pitches and slurry words. Taehyung and Jimin end a song. Why would you be surprised to know Jimin can sing? Of course, he can. You clap as loudly as you can when J steals the show. Drags Jin with her. His ears are too red.

For the first time since Jimin’s aloofness, you’re drunk enough to enjoy your night for real. Worries washed away by the alcohol.

“Noona... you need to sing too. Don’t fucking chicken out.” Jungkook walks up to you with a water bottle in his hand. Well, only if you could do that. You shake your head drunkenly.

“I fucking don’t know any of these songs.” It’s the hundredth time you’re saying it. Are becoming annoyed now.

“How’s that even possible?” Taehyung interjects. Sitting on the floor. Jimin sits right in front of your legs. He is drunk. He wasn’t supposed to drink. But here he is. Eyes droopy. Well, plans change sometimes. That’s what he said. Is finally, acknowledging you. Not being back to being all touchy and possessive. Still, you’re happy that he is having fun at least. You pay your attention back to Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It is possible because I don’t. If you want me to sing….” You look around with your hazy vision to find your bag. Find it placed on the coffee table. Ask Jungkook to pass it to you. Fumble inside your bag and leave a noise in giddy. Pull your phone out. The one from your real world. It’s just you’re drunk. Too drunk that the things aren’t processing in your head. And it’s too bad that you’ve already handed the phone to Jungkook before Jimin’s drunken mind can figure what’s happening. He is too late when he suddenly jumps to his feet, trying to stop you. Jungkook is already inspecting your phone curiously.

“This is your phone?” He asks you.

“Uh huh, my other one actually. I have a second one. Jimin bought me that.” You go back to take that one out when your bag is snatched away from you.

“Yah!” You yell as you take Jimin furrowing at you. What’s his problem now? Have no time to know. Jungkook perks up again, curiously.

“Okay, so what’s you gonna play?” He gives you the phone back. Shrugs. You excitedly start to go through your playlists. This will not be karaoke since you’ll be singing along to an original song. But who cares? These drunk people here will be happy to listen to a vulture. You randomly pick a song up. Give the phone back.

“Got it. Haven’t heard this one.” Jungkook mutters under breath as he gets to his feet. Of course, he hasn’t heard that one.

“Oh yeah, that’s becua─” The rest of your words are muffled as a palm suddenly clasps over your mouth. You make some incoherent sounds.

“Nothing. That’s because there are so many songs Jungkook.” Jimin tells to Jungkook without looking at him. His eyes on you. Jungkook shrugs again and walks away.

………………………………

Jimin and you will have to find another alternative. He can’t drive to save his life. He has little demons as his friends. Maybe, he would ask you to sleep here and will find an excuse later. That seems to be the best idea as Jimin watches you start to sing. He’s surprised that your phone is compatible with the speakers. It is compatible. And you almost ruined everything. There’s still a risk. He wants you to get done with singing fast. Wants your phone back with you. Safe. Is feeling bad about it, when you’re giggling adorably.

He’s been frustrated for some time now. Even when he was laughing and talking with his friends. Somewhere between his relationship and business, Jimin has learned how to pull off a perfect poker face. A facade. No one can see through it. Everyone thinks he is okay. But then you don’t. Probably he is lowering his guard down around you. He doesn’t like the idea that you thought he was avoiding you. Because he wasn’t, right?

It’s just that you’ve benn on the edge all day. Trying to get away from him whenever he was close to you. It really hurt to see the look on your face earlier at the kitchen. You were really uncomfortable. That’s the only reason why he let you go. The reason why he gives you your space even though it stings. You don’t do that with Jungkook. Are so comfortable around him. That makes Jimin reel. Why do you do that only to Jimin?

All the while, now he is secretly a bit happy to know at least he is affecting you. His indifference worries you. Makes you want to reach him and question. That’s good. It would’ve been more hurtful if you didn’t care at all.

Jimin blows a breath out before grabbing another shot. He is already drunk anyway. Gulps it down as you start to sing.

“There you go girl.” Seoyeon joins you, swaying her hips. Both Taehyung and Jungkook are on the dance floor as well. Jimin doesn’t know what song you’re singing. Of course, he doesn't. Funny thing is, he knows Jungkook doesn't either. But the bugger is enjoying it to the fullest while you’re singing the lyrics to him. Your pitch is terrible. It’s a good thing that song is playing in the background. Jimin catches something about a ‘friendship’ and ‘ruining a friendship’.

Oh, here comes that unsettling feeling again. To see you so happy with Jungkook. Why is he being like this? Why does he feel like he shouldn’t have brought you here? Could’ve kept you to himself if he didn’t. But then you don’t want to be around him.

Maybe he should just go away, somewhere alone. He is just about to leave when you turn your head towards him. Catching him watching. A huge grin breaks on your face. Jimin’s heart swoons at that. You’re grinning because you noticed him. Jimin.

You are uncomfortable around him right?

Then why are you so happy to see him? Why did you feel the lack of his presence?

It’s the music now. You take that time to leave Jungkook. Your shoulders doing a little wiggle. Hips swaying and walking towards him. Fuck, you look goddamn gorgeous in that dress. He knew you would, even before you put it on. The skin visible through the slit of your dress is glows under the ambient light. Your cleavage makes his brain malfunction. Like always.

And then you’re in front of him. Singing the lyrics to him. He can hear them perfectly now.

“Jenny darling, you’re my best friend

I’ve been doing bad things that you don’t know about”

His heart is beating violently. Breathing is getting shallower. You come even closer to him. The smile never leaves your inviting plump lips. Maybe, just maybe Jimin read your uncomfortableness wrong.

“I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don’t know how to say this

Cause you’re really my dearest friend”

He can’t do this anymore. Jimin finds it impossible. Someone needs to praise him for holding back for such long. He wants to steal your breath. Wants to taste that alcohol on your lips. Maybe, just maybe you were trying to get away because he makes you feel the same way like you do for him.

“Jenny, take my hand

Cause we’re more than friends

I will follow you until the end”

Did you say Jimin or Jenny. Why does his brain play tricks with him. He can feel your breath. You’re just inches away from him. Why can’t he have you? Your eyes are like magic. Maybe, just maybe you won’t protest if he kiss you. You’ll give in to him like you did the last time.

“Oh, we should be lovers instead”

He is going to kiss you. He will. Cross the line? Well, fuck it. He almost touches your cheek and tilt your head when Hoseok suddenly bellows.

“Yah! Yah! It’s time. The fireworks.”

Fuck! He is so sure you were anticipating that kiss. He knows you wanted him to kiss you. He read your signs wrong.

………………………

You chant in unison with your friends. Counting down the time.

“10

9

8”

Jimin finally stands next to you. Providing you some relief against the cold. You all are in the backyard. Ready for the new year. Hoseok will be the one to set off the fireworks. You don’t trust them. People who were on charge with the fireworks. There’s a high possibility they’ll burn the cottage down. Kill all of you in the process. Yet, it’s still happening.

“7

6

5”

Just like you, Jimin is obviously drunk. You don’t know what he plans to do afterward. Guess he has a plan. He is slightly wavering on his feet. Chanting down the numbers. Finally, his mood seems to be lightened. Or is just drunk. Earlier, while you were singing, you almost believed he is going to kiss you. There was fire inside his eyes. Then he didn’t. You shouldn’t be disappointed.

“4

3

2”

But you’re disappointed..

“1....”

“Happy fucking new year you, shitholes.” Taehyung is the first who shouts.

“What a beautiful new year wish!” Jin glares at Teahyung. He just dismisses it. Just hugs Jungkook, who is closest to him. The rest join in with the wishes. It takes Hoseok a minute to launch the fireworks into the sky. But eventually he does. You’re glad that they actually go straight up. To the sky. Blast up. Lightening the world up. Creates magic. You take the sight in with awe. Head still slightly spinning. Then without even you knowing you’re watching Jimin instead of the sky. His face is softly bathed in a luminous, purplish light. Your chest is squeezing. Why?

You are transfixed. Unable to look away from his face. Couldn’t even turn away when he averts his gaze to you. Raises his brows slightly but you still don’t turn away. You simply can’t. Just keep staring into his face. He does the same. After earlier, now you find it not possible to keep your gaze respectful. Not letting it drop down to his lips. So, you do. His plump lips. He wets them. You watch as his tongue darts out and disappears. Leaves his lips glistening. Shining. In a shimmering blue.

“Yah! The taken people here... Share your damn new year kisses.” J’s voice startles you. You didn’t realise that the world has momentarily faded away. Fireworks are still going on. You feel fairly sober now. Maybe it’s the cold air. Your eyes land on J. She is clapping excitedly while Namjoon and Yoona share their kiss. Urges Taehyung and Seoyoen to do the same. Taehyung is obviously showing reluctance but soon is waiting with wide eyes when Seoyeon places her lips on his.

Just as J turns to you, you shift your gaze to Jimin. Panicking. They want you to kiss. KISS!

Sure, you would like that but Jimin wouldn’t. What should you do? You nervously peer between his eyes. Fuck! You can’t read him this time. He probably doesn’t want to. It’s too much. You hear J and someone else saying something. It’s all a white noise.

“Go on... C’mon... Fucking kiss.” You don’t know who says that. Should you fake a stomach ache? Or should you throw up? Faint..... Jimin takes a step forward. You suck in a breath. Hold it. Is he going to do it. Another step. Fuck he is going to do it. Jimin extends his arm. Curls it around your waist. Pulls you to his body. You’re going to die. Because your heart is going mad. Madly fast.

Jimin leans forward. You don’t dare to let that breath down. He comes closer. “It’s just a kiss—a peck? Will you be okay?” Whispers against your lips. Part of your excitement dies.

A peck?

See, he doesn’t want to. But he’s still the one asking. So, you nod. Hide that disappointment behind a soft smile. Are still buzzing however. Kiss or peck, your already are like butter. Jimin nods too. Takes his time. Feels like eons. Then finally closes the gap between your lips. You feel his breath first. Tingling your lips. Then his pillowy lips are on yours. Presses. A shock radiates from there. Travels down your body. Is just a peck but ignites a fire in your belly. Makes it do a strange flip. Makes your brain void of any thoughts. That’s why you stupidly press harder when he tries to back up.

You would be so embarrassed in another time. For now, you want more. There’s something inside you screams for more. So, you whimper. Even though he isn’t pulling away anymore. He doesn’t. You think there’s a split second of hesitation from his side. But then he is the one pressing harder. He is the one who suddenly parts his lips to catch yours in-between. He is the one cups your face and tilts your face to side. You just reciprocate by throwing your hands around his neck. And it’s him who starts dragging his tongue across your bottom lip. Requesting permission to enter. Who you are to deny?

The way his tongue instantly snakes inside your mouth steals your breath away. A shameless moan erupts from your mouth. You do your best to keep up with his pace. He is going feral. Is sucking hard on your lips. You do the same. Tongue is furiously lapping against yours. You do the same. Even bites down on your bottom lip. There’s a pool of desire creating inside your underwear. He is kissing you like his life depends on it. How good it feels. You can’t breath, but still don’t want to pull away. You’re on fire. You want more.

“We said a new year kiss.”

“Yah! Stop it you....”

“Holy fuck! Are they gonna fuck in front of us? I’m down.”

“Jimin-ah”

Someone practically screeches next to you. The world comes back into focus. This time however, you don’t part like you are electrocuted. Instead, Jimin lets you go slowly. His lips red and wet. Chest heaving for breath. There’s no any difference on your side. Both of you still stare at each other. Ignore the comments your friends are making.

You kissed!

.....................

You’re shivering; even after it’s been more than hours since you’ve kissed. Trembling. Restless. Feel frustrated even. You’re standing in the kitchen alone. All of your friends finally have retreated into their destined rooms. It’s 3 am. You and Jimin really didn’t get a chance to discuss your plans. All these time, amidst the hustle of your drunken friends, Jimin treated you normally. Nothing more nothing less. Was just there. And then practically dragged Taehyung into his room with Jungkook’s help.

That’s when you entered the kitchen. Been here since then. The entire cottage is drowning in silence now. Your mind isn’t. Still, after hours, you want more. God, you want Jimin. It’s a feral desire. The memory of his lips sucking on your tongue and lips fuel that. Maybe, you should use the bathroom now. Should take this frustration out of you. You rub your thighs together uncomfortably. It’s a miracle you’ve survived until now.

You nod. Finally in a decision. You’ll take care of yourself. Like you always do. Turn around to leave. Only to gasp loudly and lose your shit to find a shadowy figure in the door way.

“Holy fuck!!!” You clasp your chest immediately as your soul leaves your body.

“Sorry.” Jimin immediately strides forward. Letting you see it’s him. “What the fuck Jimin. I nearly fucking died.” You scowl. He chuckles lightly.

You didn’t really expect for him to join you. Or to look for you. Now when he does, you don’t know what to do next. Your plans are ruined. This is torture. You’re horny because of this man. You wanted to do something about it by yourself. And then he interrupts it. You’re stuck with him again. Which means you’ll be constantly horny.

The air is filled with dead silence. He isn’t saying anything. For a moment. Then he breaks the silence.

“Lil... Uh about ear—”

“Don’t” You don’t mean to snap but you do. Causing Jimin to abruptly stops and gape at you. Silence again.

“Don’t what?” He mumbles. You don’t want him to apologise again. For anything. Don’t want to hear him say he was drunk. Say he crossed a line again. You want to bask in your bubble. You always found this fascination. There’s a reason why you were always so affected. Despite everything, you know you like being around him. He makes your heart beat fast. Makes you so nervous you can’t look him in the eye. Makes you feel all sorts of fucked up. But you like it. Then he doesn’t. You don’t want him to say it aloud. Just want to hide behind a bathroom door and get yourself off to his memories. You’ll be guilty when you’re less horny. In the morning.

“Don’t what Lil?” Then he is pushing you again. Strides closer to you. You sigh. Hard. Lean your ass against the kitchen island. “Don’t apologise Jimin. I don’t want to hear it.” Finally get your words out. Know he is about to reply but this is your chance to clear the misunderstandings. “And I wasn’t uncomfortable around you because I didn’t like it. I thought it was too much you know?” You turn your head to look at him. Relieved you finally got an acceptable answer.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, mirrors your earlier actions. Leans against the kitchen island next to you. So close that your arms are pressed together. It’s sending bolts down your body.

“What’s too much?” He asks again. You don’t like it when he does that. And you hate it how his breath is hitting your ear. God, you can’t. Another rub in your thighs. Very subtle. Praying he doesn’t notice.

Calm down! Get a fucking grip.

“Being that clo—”

“Why are you so comfortable around Jungkook then?”

Oh!

Are you? Well, he doesn’t make you want to jump his bones all the time. You can’t say that aloud. So, you decide you should point out him not having a girlfriend. But he doesn’t let you when he suddenly straightens up. Turns around. Crowds your space, trapping you between the island and his warm body.

“Because he isn’t too much?” Questions. This time against your mouth. You need to go. You’re loosing it.

“I didn’t say you’re too much.”

“Then what’s too much?” He leans even more forward. His breath tingles your lips when he talks. Eyes drops down to your lips. Your breath hitch. And so you are becoming annoyed. He is making you suffer on purpose isn’t he? Well, fuck it.

“This.” You lower your voice. “This is Jimin. You being this clo—”

“Fuck, I want to kiss you. Want to kiss you again so fucking badly. You taste good you know? Lil... You taste so fucking good.” Jimin grips the counter by either side of you. As if to ground himself. Eyes still not leaving your lips. A surprised whimper leaves your mouth. His nose presses against yours. That is so sudden that you’re so dumbfounded. Eyes wide. Breath mingles with his.

“W.....what?” You ask stupidly.

He wants to kiss you?

“Can we be too much? One more time?” Jimin slowly and gently presses his body against yours. His voice is shaky.

He wants to.

“Jimin.... I’m going insane I think.” Both of you would’ve laughed hard at that in a different time. Neither do so at this moment, however. You genuinely think you’re going insane.

“Good. Go insane. Go fucking insane. Don’t become sane, just let me take care of you hm. Can I kiss you?” Jimin slightly presses his lips onto you. You’re insane. He asks you stay that way. So, what’s stopping you? The feral need you’ve been trying to contain inside explodes.

You nod furiously before taking his bottom lip between yours. Instantly starting to move. He lets out a groan. Hands immediately gripping your hips. Pulls you flush against his body. He deepens the kiss by plunging his tongue inside. You moan. Shameless. Go insane he said. You’re loosing your breath again. Lungs screaming but you won’t pull away. You suck on his tongue. He sucks on your bottom lip. Flights for dominance with your tongue.

It’s a messy tangle of a spit and teeth now. Your teeth clanking together. Sounds of your groans and moans mixing with the wet sounds your lips make. You place your hands behind his neck. Then on his back. Touching wherever you can. Pressing your body into his desperately. He does the same. Hands exploring your curves harshly. You accept the defeat first. Pull away heaving for much needed oxygen. He doesn’t let you. Is back again numbing your lips. But you want more. You push him away weakly, confusing him.

“Please no. Not yet. Don’t become sane now, baby. No.” Jimin whines, chasing your mouth back. If it isn’t the sweetest sound. And he calls you baby? Fireworks are exploding inside your stomach now. He bites your bottom lip. Bit harshly that you whimper.

“No... No Jimin.. it’s not it. I want more...” You manage to find your voice. At that he pulls away. Peers into your eyes.

“More?”

“Yes. More please.”

Jimin moans. A sweet one. You don’t get to think what’s happening when his hands grabs you by your thighs. Hoists you up to the kitchen island. Nudges your thighs from his knee. Urges your legs apart. Slots himself between your parted legs. Is back kissing you, pink muscle exploring every nook and corner inside your mouth. Pulls away. “Tell” Gives a peck. “me” peck. “what” peck “you want?” A harsh kiss. You’re breathless.

“S...something.... A...anything please..... Jimin. Please give me something.”

“Something?”

“Yes I need something. Anything you give.” Your voice is shaky. Can’t be embarrassed now. Not when you’re burning. “Want you Jimin.” You further clarify what you want. He groans again. Kisses you again. Makes you say the same thing again and again.

“One more time baby. Say you want me.”

“I... wa...want y... you Jimin. Please something. Anything.”

You love the way Jimin slightly trembles at your words.

“God, fuck yes. Lil you’re fucking hot.” He whispers. Hands travel from your hips to your ass. Squeezes. Lips back on assaulting yours.

“Please..” You plead one more time.

Just like that he is bunching your dress up to your waist. Attacks your neck. Sucking and licking. Presses his lips and tongue on that sweet spot. All the while his hands harshly exploring the skin of your thighs. He touches. Rubs. Squeezes. Grabs. Yanks you to the edge of the counter top. Making your panty clad core slots against his. Ruts his hips. The friction that makes is blissful. So, you do the same. Give some attention to your needy cunt. Moan his name. Whine pathetically when he stops.

“No Jimin please...”

He silences you by attacking your lips again. By sneaking his hands between your pressed up bodies. His fingers finally touching where you need him the most. Dear God, how good that little touch feels. Your ass nearly leaves the countertop. Searching for more. He chuckles into your mouth.

“Fucking needy..” Mumbles. He presses his middle and forefinger on your throbbing clit. Over your lacy panties. Adds more pressure and circle it. Drags his fingers down your slit, pressing down at your needy hole. Hums in approval when he finds you soaked.

“How long have you been wet? Hm Lil? How long did you wear this soaked panties? Sticking into your pretty pussy?” His husky voice is like liquid fire. Burning through you. You shiver at his words. Mouth so dry even after he wets your lips so good.

“I... I. Don’t know..” You try to answer anyway. Jimin doesn’t think it’s an answer. He roughly pushes your panty to the side. You gasp. Touches your slicked cunt bare for the first time. You moan. He rubs your slit before pushing his two fingers at your entrance. Pushes past until the pads of his fingers are inside you. Just teasing your entrance. Thumb find your clit again. Rubs it very painfully slow.

“How long Lil? Answer me. How long have you been dripping for me?” He is toying with you. That’s what he is doing. Will not do anything until you answer. Will tease you till you die from the neediness.

“S....since.. since you kissed me.” You force yourself to answer. He laughs this time. Mocking almost.

“All these because of a kiss?”

Oh, you love this. Love the aura he is emanating. Love the authority. Absolutely love to be in his mercy. New waves of arousals crash over you.

“Yes.” You answer. He rewards you with another messy kiss. Hand never stopping teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit. “What a good slut you are baby? Just so ready and wet. All for me?” He just knows you love this. Isn’t he? Probably feels how you’re dripping more. Another week yes escapes your lips.

“Good.” His fingers disappears form your cunt. Before you could complain, however, he is rubbing that slicked covered pads on your lips. Watches you expectantly. So, you become a good girl. Dart your tongue out to lick it away. Makes him moan. He pulls away from your body. Cold air engulfs your body in the lack of his warmth. He grabs a stool. Drags it to where you are seated and sits. His face nicely levelling with your waist. He makes it better by slightly bending down. Now levelling with your sopping cunt. Places his palms on your inner thighs to spread your legs even more.

Revealing your soppy cunt to his burning gaze. The way your flimsy panty is soaked.

“Did I mention you’re hot?” Asks but you are no longer able to answer anything. Anticipation eating you up. Just knowing what he is about to do. Fuck those thick lips are going to be on your cunt. Even the thought is enough to make you cum. You whimper and wiggle your ass needy. Earn yourself a slap on your inner thigh. And a soothing kiss after. Jimin looks at you through his lashes. Keeps kissing your thighs. Open mouth and sucking, leaving his imprints on them. Each kiss is leaving higher than the previous one. Up, up and up. Until finally, fucking finally his lips are on your cunt. Lips pressing over your already swollen clit.

Your hands fly to grab from his hair. Firmly pressing his face deeper into your pussy. Can feel his smirk. The smirk before he willingly bury his face between your thighs. And then inhales. Deeply. Moans so loud. Louder than you and probably enough for whole cottage to hear.

“Ji...mm...in..”

He inhales again. Groans. Pulls away to look at you like he is drunk again.

“You smell so good baby. Fuck.” Wets his lip. Looks at you like you’re a full course meal. Just for him to savour and devour.

Gives you an admiring look before his thick lips are latching on your clit. With the lacy material. Sucks on it. Bites lightly. You spread your legs the furthest you can. Giving him everything. Buck your hips onto his face when he shifts to lick long drags across your slit. Up and down. Your panty is just an useless wet item with his saliva and your arousal. He pulls the material between his teeth and lets go again. Making it hit you cunt. You gasp in pleasurable slight sting causes. He keeps his ministrations for couple minutes. Alternating between licks, sucks, kisses and bites.

The next time he pulls away, he is the one who is breathless. “Shit! You taste so good. Just like I imagined... Let’s cum on my tongue baby huh?” He asks as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You nod violently in assent when he discards the useless material from your body. Pushes it inside his pocket and you think you’ll not last another second. He is the epitome of pure sin. So hot you want to cry. Especially, when his nose, lips, and chin ins glistening with your arousal.

Jimin admires your bare cunt which is practically on his face for second. Mutters something about it being the prettiest cunt he has ever seen. You clench around nothing. Then he is on it back. Keeping your legs apart by pulling them over his shoulders. Hand keeping you pin down onto the table. Face hiding in your pussy. Lips and tongue working magic with the occasional help of teeth. Licks and sucks. Slurping. Practically making our with your cunt. As if he is mad. Going feral and intense with every passing second. Shakes his head. Drinking on your dripping arousals. The entire space is filled with the shameful sound of your cunt making against his mouth. Paired with your moans and his groans.

Your head is spinning. It’s all one mess of pleasure. Immense pleasure. It’s completely unintentional how you keep rutting your hips. Using his perfect face to chase your high. He is relentless. A man on a mission and is succeeding very fast. You’re so close. So close to fall over the edge and need just a little more.

“Ji...min. Ugh it’s so good.... Jimin fingers.. I need your fingers.. please.” You plead. Hands nearly ripping his hair away. He nods without pulling away even for a minute. Gets you bit worried about his breathing. He doesn’t mind apparently. Just gives you what you asked for. Two fingers simply prod against your hole. Rubs circles first and then are pushing past your tight entrance. Your falls flutter at the intrusion. He keeps pushing inside slowly till he is knuckles deep inside you.

Takes a moment. Lips wrapping around your clit. Sucks while eyes fixing on your face. Then starts pumping the fingers in and out of you. Hard and fast. Scissors them. Stretches you wide. Curls his fingers in search for that one spot. Strokes your walls. And at the moment he finds that spot, you almost jump away from the counter.

He presses you down again with his free hand. Violently pump his fingers, assaulting that sweet spot. Assaulting your clit with his teeth and tongue. Over and over again. Until all your senses vanish. Until that tight coil in your lower tummy which has been tightening all these time snaps. Until white spots appear behind your closed eyelids. Jimin keeps his lips tightly sucking on your clit and fingers working when you moan his name breathlessly. Only pulls away when you start to whimper from the oversensitivity.

“Jimin.. hurts...”

He lets you clit go. Retrieves his fingers slowly. Looks you dead in the eye when he sucks those fingers clean. And then your sensitive cunt despite your little cries. Places one last kiss before he is getting into his feet.

You gape at him with a still heaving chest. Placing your weight on your arms. Close your legs. Sit properly. Jimin bends down to wipe his face off with the edge of his shirt.

That was the best fucking orgasm of your life. Only beats the time he made you cum by sucking on your tits. Yes, you won’t lie. Because it is. That, however, doesn’t stop from you coming back to senses. Like always. Doesn’t stop the familiar weight drops on your shoulder. You and he swore you were friends, didn’t you? That you won’t cross the line.

Now what? Oh you’re becoming scared again. Scared since you know what’ll probably happen next. Jimin is starting back at you. Expression unreadable. He’ll say sorry now. You’ll accept that. Or he’ll continue. If he wants that, god yes, you’ll listen. There will be nothing make you happier to return the favour. These unclouded thoughts which are emerging will vanish at a finger snap if he asks to fuck you. To blow him off. But you’re afraid he won’t. He’ll do the right thing now.

So, you hold your breath, bracing for the apology that will shatter this beautiful moment. He doesn’t. Instead, he simply just cups your cheeks. Surprises you by pecking your lips. Bores into your eyes.

“Are you sane now?”

Oh that’s quite unexpected.

You don’t know what he is doing. But if he genuinely wants to know the answer. Then you’ll give him that. Hence, the shake of your head. Your words follow that. “No.” Jimin smiles. Nods. Peck your lips again.

“Can we stay insane then, just for a day? Do you think you’ll be able to stay awake? Just a day Lil?” There’s a desperation in his voice. A kind of one that steals your breath. This is so wrong.

Say no.

You’ll never say no. You’ll willingly chose death if Jimin asks you to. How fucking scary. But you think you’re already deep in this mess.

Cross the line? You just did that.

What’s there to go wrong anymore? A lot.

Still, just for a day. Maybe after that day you two will be satiated. Until that you’ll keep the morality hidden safely behind a closet. To take back later. Just a day.

“Yes. I can. Yes for everything you asked.” You giggle. He follows.

“Let’s pretend this is normal?” He asks again. You nod again. Pretend. Just for a day.

“Uh huh... It’s just a day in paradise?” You peck his lips this time. Heart swooning when he smiles into that. Chuckles. Says that it’s silly but agrees anyway. Confirms for you.

“A day in paradise.”

Chapter Index

...................................................................................................

Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy

[murdrdocs]

I’ve had such bad brain-rot of CNC w Ethan so I am here to share. Jokingly mentioning to him that you would find it kind of hot if he showed up in his Ghostface attire one night through your window and had his way with you. What you don’t notice when you turn your back, though, is the way his eyes darken and his cheeks turn a slight shade of red as he is already starting to plan through how he was going to do this and when.

a little off topic but i wrote a consensual somno with ethan like 2 days after s6 came out but i was scared to post bc i didn't know if that was his audience ... back to the ask DARK CONTENT 17+

this fucker would go a little crazy when you mentioned it.

"all i'm saying is i wouldn't exactly be opposed in some good 'ole fashioned cnc with you as ghostface. that's it!"

and he's chuckling, seeing if you're just joking. which, you aren't, but you smile and laugh and take a sip from your water and then you're back on your phone, scrolling through social media like nothing happened. but that sly smile is still on your face and ethan goes on urban dictionary for a second just to see if there's any other meaning for 'cnc' that he wasn't well versed in.

but as soon as he confirms that you meant that cnc, he's watching you. watching how you pull your legs up into your seat and he notices how tiny your shorts are. you spread your legs just a tad bit and ethan swears that you're doing it on purpose.

but maybe he's just filling in gaps that aren't meant to be filled. maybe he's reaching the wrong conclusions.

he considers this to be true, until you lift your eyes and meet his. until your smile grows bigger and you hold his gaze, even whenever his cheeks visibly redden and he uncomfortably squirms in his seat.

he can't help but let his mind wander to giving you a call with the voice modulator, teasing you, making you feel real fear as he taunts you about where his location could be, how he knows what you're wearing and what room your in. and just when he lets you think that you're safe, and that he isn't actually in your home, he would come out of his hiding spot to hold you down, give you what you so desperately have been wanting for these past few weeks. he'd mention the knife, let you know what he could do if he wanted to. and he'd fuck you over and over and over again, until you could barely keep your eyes open. only when you beg him like a sweet little thing will he let you go. but not without reminding you of the power he has, and how he'll be back for more.

[abbysbunny]

NEW STUDENT

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

part two

plot: hazel joins a new school and maybe makes a new friend

warning: none, like a tiny weeny bit of fluff, this is low-key boring so:3+not proofread because I'm dyslexic and lazy

word count: 0.7k

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

school. it's boring and confusing, but lucky for you a new classmate was joining you today. the bell rang, signifying the start of first period, you say down in your assigned seat and noticed the spot next to you was empty, 'huh weird' you thought, thinking nothing of it.

Ms.smith walked into the class with a short haired girl behind her, "good morning class, this our new student hazel callahan, be nice and give her a warm welcome", some people around the class said hi but no one really cared, she ajusted the sting of her backpack before sitting down in the seat next to yours.

you looked at her with a small smile on your face, giving her a little wave, she just glaced at you before turning around to pull out her notebook. the smile on your face quickly turned into a slight frown, you whipped your head around to face the chalkboard.

it felt like 10 hours had passed before the bell ringed, you finally had break. after a quick snack it was time to go out in the freezing cold, 'great, I'm cold and have no friends to hang out with' you mentally noted. suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder interrupting your train of thought.

you turned around and saw, hazel. she looked at you with an awkward smile before speaking, "um, Ms.smith said I could ask you to give me a tour around the school, is that okay with you?" she anxiously scratched the back of her neck, you thought about it for a moment, with a small amount of hesitation you said yes.

you grabbed her hand and led her around the school, showing her the bathrooms, classes cafeteria and even cracking a few jokes here and there making her chuckle, by the end of the tour you felt proud of yourself for maybe making a new friend. the bell ringed, again, and it was officially time for second period, today was gonna be a long day.

lunch was always loud and lonely, you grabbed your plate of suspicious looking food and sat down at an empty table guessing someone with a dog collar would sit down next to you and gush about some anime. surprisingly someone different sat down, hazel sat down.

"hey hazel, how're you liking the school?" you said in a hopefull sounding tone,"it's okay" your conversation attempt was shut down with her dry tone, you continued eating your french fries before noticing hazel was reading. 'reading? at lunch? with this chaos?' you thought.

looking at hazel really scanning her face you realized that she was actually attractive, like really attractive, usually the most attractive person at your school is a teacher who kinda looks like Sarah Paulson, but someone your age who looks attractive who's also gay? here that's crazy. 'wait is she gay? I mean she dresses like a little boy who just discovered urban outfitters' you were 99% sure she was, but...was it better to ask?

"hey hazel?" she quickly lifting her head, her eyes peeking out of her bangs, "are you gay?" hazel slightly choked on her sandwich before taking a big gulp of water. she looked at you with a confused look, "uhm, yeah I am but uh why do you wanna know...?" you thought of a quick reason without trying to sound offensive, "I don't know I guess I wanted to know if I'm the only gay person at this school...?" you awkwardly chuckled.

"oh well you're not I guess..." you noticed a light shade of pink on her cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but before you could get anything out the bell rang, had it already been a half hour? 'fuck we have Mr.Gs class now' you sighed, "hazel since we have Mr.Gs class now and it's not that important, so wanna sit next to me and maybe chat a bit?" she looked at you for second and quietly agreed.

by the end of the school day you and hazel had actually gotten to know each other pretty well, you walked out of class together, her hand accidentally brushing against yours, making your face hot, "hey uh, could I get your number or Instagram, or whatever you wa-" hazel was cut off from her awkward ranting by your voice.

"yeah I'll give you my number" you exchanged numbers before saying your goodbyes, maybe school isn't so bad after all.

notes: this is my first post I'm so scared please don't be mean I'll pee my pants, also I rushed the ending😛 if you fruity people want a part two tell me😈

[fountian-of-youth]

"Hah."

It crossed its arms, tilting its head slightly. Its first long-term assignment had done that as well- Sebastian, that was its name, right?

"Sebastian used his tongue as a threat display as well..."

It judged Allos reaction, remaining still. Even now, it didn't move to grab its snare. It almost seemed mirthful in how it reacted,leaning against the doorway and tapping its clawed boot against the floor.

"He still lost against me. You saw where refusing to play along, refusing to follow orders get you."

It tilted its head, a loose motion, as if its head wasn't fully attached.

"I'll give you one more chance."

Hearing his friend do the same threat display caused allo to curl his tendrils in a bit as he stared at cat cradle. A low hiss coming from his throat as he heard what happened between Sebastian and it "BASTOS" He snarled out black fangs snapping.

He leaned back a bit giving an offended look at the chance given instead of saying words. He raised his hands and flipped the soldier off. As he spoke the next words his hands even moved to sign out in ASL his hate and disgust to it.

"fuck you and urban shade can go fuck themselves in the ass for all I care "

He didn't notice the way his tail was angrily curling and swaying besides his legs. His emotional state causing the hidden features to reveal like an angel stepping into the light. His hands were quick and nimble showing years of dedication he had....and he would keep it that way

He's determined to stay away especially from this soldier's grasp

[heeseung64]

PERSPECTIVE

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬.

SERIES, SMAU, ENEMIES? MUTUAL FRIENDS, MUTUAL PINING, COMEDY, ANGST, SLOW BURN. MDNI.

contents.

04. SORRY?

written part below <3

the party was packed, the house was filled with students of all sorts: the rich, poor, classy, trashy- the originals and the those who are firstly setting foot into the famous mansion that was owned by some random somebody.

y/n hugged a few familiar faces as she paced herself up the stairs, her phone in hand as she weaves through, trying to find the right group. "jungwon!" she yells through the music, catching the back of her friend to turn around, jumping and patting her back. "you're here! c'mon, beom's got u a shot!" he laughs, grabbing her wrists before leaving her upon the mezzanine that overlooked the whole ground floor.

"Y/N!!" a drunk beomgyu errupts amongst the crowd, giving her a peculiar shot full of random liquor for her to ingest. "yuck, th'fuck did you put into this?" she coughs, "i don't know, jake mixed it. he always sucks." he slurs, making y/n giggle. "where's jake?" she asks, causing him to smirk- giggling out his mind. "he's over there, i'll bring him to you but don't fuck yet-" "beomgyu you're drunk as hell." y/n retaliates, laughing at his demeanour. y/n wasn't the type to mess around, and yes- although she has had previous relationships, it was all platonic, she believes the right one would spark up her flower- like her friends would joke.

y/n follows beomgyu to the open lounge, the chill acoustics ricocheting off the urban walls, and the sound of the party slowly diminishing to foreign music as they further deep down the hallways. "oh my god, y/n!" a voice emerges from the loud beat. it was jake, his voice with a hint of alcohol, sounded so sweet to y/n she couldn't help but grin, hugging the guy as she greets him back. "hi jake!" she laughs at his jumpy attitude, unaware of the others in the crowd.

"shots babe, shots!" sunoo grabs her hand from the chatter, bringing her to the crowd that has gathered for the plethora of shots that fill the corners- unaware of the person who bought them mentally crying. jungwon rises from the crowd, his grin wider than ever, a familiar hint of mischief as he puts his shades behind his ears,

"this is a game of russian roulette! most of these are vodka, some of these are tequila- and some," he pauses as he watches everyone around him eager to listen.

"moonshine, brewed by our own jay." to which the group cheer.

his moonshine must be strong. y/n smiles as they each go for a shot. just after the first hand takes one, the rest follow, and y/n finds herself reaching for the second last one. as she reaches for the shot, a hand takes over the last two in one swipe. "what the fuck!" y/n groans, looking up to see the man she didn't want to meet at all, sunghoon.

"why did you steal my drink?" y/n comes up to him, arms crossed as she perfectly could've had the opportunity to get wasted. "i just saved you from jay's moonshine and you're being ungrateful." sunghoons lips soak in the last drop of the shot he took. "get off my dick. i'm just trying to enjoy the party." y/n replies, sighing as she turns around. y/n begins to walk the corridors before being yanked in the arm by the same man. "why are you telling me to get off your dick? huh?" he breaths down her.

the dimly lit corridor only shone the light on his pale face, flustered and blushed at his cheeks and lips, and his eyes intense staying on her.

"look, i only--" he pauses to sigh, "i only took those shots so you can hear me apologise to you sober, but these damn shots are all moonshine." he groans, looking at the ground.

maybe he is a nice guy. y/n scoffs, feeling a part of her stomach churn as she looks at his body being defeated by the effects of alcohol.

"fine. do it, apologise." y/n replies, but to no avail, sunghoon responds blandly,

"wait i'm tired, maybe later."

dumbfounded, she finds sunghoon turning into a sleepy mess in under seconds. the two shots were enough to make him defeated instantly, and his whole mind was shaking, wanting to drink water and ice and lay on the rink.

"i'm not gonna talk to you til you apologise." she groans, watching sunghoon lay back on the wall in front of her. "take me.. water."

"huh?" y/n furrows her brow.

"water. and ice rink. i want. please.-"

"i am not taking you to the fucking ice rink i came here to p-"

"please." he whispers, breathing into her space before collapsing his torso into her arms.

i fucking hate this guy. y/n could all ever think; as she was taking him out to the ice rink.

_______________

inbox for taglist <3

[pandemonium-express]

A small Shiba Inu peeks out of a vent towards you, it's eyes glowing a strange vivid shade of pink. It watches, it's eyes big.

From what can be seen the pupper is wearing a vest with the urban shade logo and had the expendables numbers on it.

( @theexpendablepupper )

"What the fuck?"

[heavyhitterheaux]

FL CONCEPT : Urban and FL get into a big argument! Maybe he said something jokingly and she took it to heart so she’s really upset and doesn’t speak to him for a whole week 🤭

I’m messy, call me MESSYca 😈

"Bestie, are we still going to Morris Deli?" Urban asked as he poked your cheek, but you immediately rolled your eyes.

"Go with your other bestie since he's the one you always tell everything to anyway."

"Uhh, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, like you don't fucking know." You fired back and Urban threw his hands up in confusion.

"Obviously I don't! Hence, why I'm asking. Don't start this shit again."

"Start what exactly? Go head Urby, Say it."

"HOLDING ONTO SHIT!"

"BECAUSE YOU LIED TO ME LET’S GET THAT PART FUCKING STRAIGHT! And you had the nerve to say the other day when Clay introduced us to the girl he's dating that you hope that I let him have a peaceful relationship and not be on his back all the time and you would be surprised if the relationship lasts for a week."

"I WAS JOKING."

"WELL IT WASNT FUCKING FUNNY BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHY I DO IT AND WHY I'M SO PROTECTIVE OF ALL OF YOU. SO GO BY YOUR FUCKING SELF!"

"Y/N, COME ON! I DIDN'T MEAN ANYTHING BY IT."

You simply made your way to walk up the steps as Jack had opened the front door and saw the pissed off look on your face.

"Uh, baby what's wrong?" Jack asked and you simply waved him off and continued walking up the steps and turned to Urban and eyed him.

"You better not be the cause of that. Why is my baby upset?" Jack said to Urban as he pointed towards the steps.

"Umm, you see what had happened was…"

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Uhh she didn't like how I joked about her breaking up Clay and his girl like she used to do all of my other relationships."

"And the dumbass of the year awards goes to…"

"I didn't mean anything by it." Urban quietly said as Jack was trying to think of how he could get you to agree to talk to Urban because he knew for a fact that you were the queen of the silent treatment.

"But you know how she feels about that! She thought that you would never forgive her for doing that even though there were good intentions behind it!"

"Didn't think about that."

"CLEARLY!"

Jack went upstairs to check on you and found you laying down and when you saw him, you immediately got up to hug him.

He simply rubbed small soothing circles on your back as he now heard you crying and waited for you to speak.

"Do you think Clay thinks that I'm going to do the same thing?"

"No, babe. Even though he knows how protective you are, he at least came to us first and told us. He didn't hide it. That's no shade to Urb, but it's the truth."

"I don't want anyone taking advantage of him either. I will literally flip my shit if someone hurts my little baby."

"I know and I'll be right there with you."

"I hope you didn't come up here to convince me to talk to Urby because my answer is no."

"But baby..."

"NO."

It had been an entire week since you spoke to your best friend and he was going through it.

You decided that this had gone on long enough and knocked on his bedroom door.

You heard his voice telling you to come in and when you did he was surprised to see you.

"Y/N…"

"Get your keys, we're going to get food and you're driving. Jack's already downstairs."

"You know I never meant to hurt your feelings and you know how important you are to me. That's not me at all."

"Urby, I'm hungry so I suggest you come on because I will leave you and I love you too. Pay for my food and I just might forgive you."

"At least you didn’t tell me you wanted a Birkin."

"Don't push it Wyatt because I can always change my mind."

[bijouxcarys]

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Robert Plant x fem!OC

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should have never been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tags: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @callmethehunter @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @strsmn @firethatgrewsolow @chromations @brownskinsugarplum76 @angrychicksposts (if you'd like to be added, just let me know!)

Elena practically flew forwards, her hand only just managing to stop the rest of her from slamming into the dashboard. She blinked once and slowly looked to her right.

“Are you joking?” she asked monotonously. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Don’t blame me, blame the fucking pigeon on the road!” John pointed ahead of him, one hand gripping onto the steering wheel. Elena followed his pointed finger and sighed.

“Bon…” she began. “That’s a fucking badger.”

“Huh?” He squinted, struggling to see a thing through the persistent sun. “Gah!” he grunted, waving his hand relatively in the same direction of the sun as he started the car up again, continuing their drive. “El, will you pass me my sunnies from my bag?”

Elena looked at John as if he was speaking an unfounded language. “You’re such a diva now,” she huffed, but smirked to let him know she wasn’t serious. Though she was certain he knew her enough to know she could never be snarky to him. 

With an exaggerated sigh, she turned and stretched over in between the two car seats, reaching for John’s bag. She pulled it over to her and got to unzipping it, just as he made quite a sharp turn, causing her to fall sideways into him.

“My God, get your arse out of my face.”

“Stop making stupid driving decisions, then!”

“Why don’t you bloody drive? You’re old enough now.”

“I’ll end up killing someone, mate.” Elena rummaged through his bag, looking for his sunglasses. She snorted when she came across handfuls upon handfuls of spare drumsticks. “You got enough sticks in here, Bon-Bon?” she asked rhetorically, finally finding his sunglasses and retrieving them.

“Here y’are,” she plopped back down into the passenger seat, holding the shades out for John. 

“Cheers,” he thanked her, clumsily putting them on his face with one hand, poking his eye in the process. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

Elena nodded, taking in the more urban character of their surroundings. It was a contrast to where she and John had grown up and spent most of their time. Sure, they weren’t all the way out in the countryside, but everything was within walking distance from each other. The closer into Birmingham you got, the more bus stops and taxi ports came into view, and the more reclusive passers-by seemed to be.

John had learned the ins and outs of Birmingham for the most part, ever since he started to pursue drumming full time and had to make these journeys in and out of the city. His recent endeavour, a band eccentrically named Crawling King Snakes, had inspired new confidence in him. The colourful landscape of musicians he had come across had never been more vibrant than the one he found himself in the middle of now. More than anything, hope was peeking over the horizon.

“So, what should I expect from your new bandmates?” Elena asked, resting her legs on the dashboard and tracing her finger across the grooves on her brown corduroy trousers.

“Nothing too crazy. Expect a lot of Welsh from Dave. Paul’s quiet… Dunno, they’re just chilled out guys.” He shrugged.

“Not really giving too much away, are you?”

“They’re hard to describe, to be honest with you. You just have to meet them,” John chuckled. 

Elena left it at that and sat back, enjoying the rest of the car ride. The radio had treated them nicely that day, feeding them with the slick tunes of Little Richard and The Drifters, to Elvis and The Everly Brothers. All music the two friends enjoyed throughout the years. Elena had taken a recent interest in The Rolling Stones, a sharp turn from what she was used to listening to. Growing up, she found her place in the Blues, and Soul. She could listen to the likes of Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole for hours and never tire of their silky vocals; the pure emotion and heart that went into each stave and syllable rang deep within her, and she felt every word like kitten kisses upon her ears. 

Since John decided to become a full-time drummer, she’d been exposed to a wider variety of music that seeped from the essence of da blues to form a complete musical revolution that had quickly grown on her. The first time she heard the Stones was during her late night shift at work. Minimal pay for a 17-year-old, but the pub’s great company and tunes cancelled out the meesely wage. Satisfaction stuck with her all night. I can’t get no…neh neh neh nene neh neh… All. Night. 

The flood gates were swung open once she stepped foot into the record shop in search of more Stones. That’s when she first came across Bay City Rollers, Cream, The Yardbirds… it was a whole different world and Elena hoped with her entire being that there would be more of it to come—that it wasn’t a mere diversion in the chaotic lineage of music evolution.

Bag over his shoulder, John led Elena inside the building, where Crawling King Snakes had booked out a small space for a couple of hours in exchange for £100. Dave was somewhat peeved that they had to spend that much on a couple of hours, but was easily convinced nonetheless. 

“Ayy, there he is!” Paul exclaimed, raising his arms in the air as he spotted John at the door with his female companion.

“Ayy, y’alright, mate?” John greeted him with a manly hug, slapping each other’s backs in the process. It amused Elena greatly when she witnessed John in the presence of other guys; his entire demeanour toughened and he gave the facade of a sharp-tongued lad’s lad. Yes, he had it in him. But the correlation between that and his surroundings was too coincidental for it not to be causational.

The room really was small for a jamming session. Four yellow strip lights hung above, and the carpet was worn and colourless, as though waiting to be quenched by the kaleidoscopic symphonies of talented musicians. 

“Dave, get your arse over ‘ere,” Paul waved his hand over to the other male in the room, long-haired and lost in thought with a blue bass guitar slung over his shoulder. 

“El,” John began, slinging his arm around Elena and bringing her beside him. “This is Paul Martinez and Dave Edmunds—guitar and bass. They’re mental. Beware.”

Elena laughed and shook her head, holding out her hand to greet the two men politely. They reciprocated the greeting with friendly smiles, one accompanied by a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“This is Elena. She’s my best friend, partner in crime, and primary critic. If anyone knows what sounds good, it’s this girl, here,” he proudly introduced with a squeeze of her shoulders against him. 

“Good to meet you,” Paul said through the muffle of his cigarette. 

“Right, El, I need to set up properly, you’re alright just hanging about, yeah?” John checked, putting his bag down on a nearby chair. 

“Mhm,” Elena nodded with a smile. “I’ll be here.” She watched as John made his way over to the drum riser to get to work on tightening the drum skins and double checking placements.

With her arms folded comfortably, she took a small step backwards, only to collide with something, or someone, coming through the door behind her. She turned her head and moved out of the way immediately. “Oh, sorry…” she instinctively apologised before looking up at the person in question. 

“Nah, yer alright, luv, I was just gunna skim past you.”

Her chestnut eyes fell in line with two striking orbs of blue—expressive and welcoming. He had thick, curly hair that traced the fine line of dirty blonde. It looked like it could easily switch up in the glare of the sun, with how delicate it seemed. It fell into strong sideburns that stopped just short of his chin, framing a dimpled grin that dismissed her apology.

“Ah, Bobby!” Paul called in the midst of lighting a cigarette. The blonde grunted and looked over at him with a dissatisfied glare.

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“Bobby Bobby Bobby Bobbehhhh,” John joined in, in a crouched position by one of the snares. With a boisterous laugh, he popped his head up, gesturing a drumstick at Elena. “Elena, Robert, Robert, Elena.”

Robert’s brows lifted in realisation, a smile once again taking over his features as he turned back to Elena with his hand held out. “Ah, you’re the one he’s been talkin’ about, then.” Clasping his hand in hers, he leaned in to give her a welcoming peck on the cheek, as he did with all the women he came across.

“Great to know he’s been talking about me,” Elena responded loud enough for the drummer to hear, earning a distracted middle finger from him in retaliation.

“Oh, he’s mentioned you a fair bit, yeah,” Robert nodded.

“That’s disconcerting…”

“No, all good things, luv, don’t worry.” Robert waved his hand in dismissal. 

They naturally drifted further into the room as everyone hooked themselves up to the few amps they had lying around. Robert was itching to get started. He’d been looking for other strong musicians with a similar zest for life to jive with for a while, and hoped that Crawling King Snakes could at the very least lead to something magnificent. It made him all the more nervous to test out new material, though, now that he had an audience. Not just any audience, either. The presence of John’s female companion, who Robert wasn’t blind enough to recognise as physically stunning. 

Even though this was simply an opportunity to jam and test out different sounds, he knew he had to get it right. Whatever it was. Early on, he learned that leaving a not-so-impactful impression on the ladies was the last thing anyone should do when performing. It would be a notch on his ego, an ego he was subconsciously trying to craft around the slightly sensitive, yet lively, 18-year-old boy that he was.

Little did he know he had already made a lasting impression, simply by the way he greeted Elena at the door. There was something extremely European about his way of saying ‘hello,’ in a sense that it held the weight of a respectful, gallant gentleman. To Elena, that was extremely comforting and unique; exactly the kind of person she’d enjoy surrounding herself with.

The way he chose to dress himself… wow. She’d very rarely seen men adorn their bodies with such delicate material, bohemian and Eastern-inspired all at once. If there was one thing Robert was, it was remarkable, exceptional… abnormal—everything the world was missing but didn’t know it needed. And that was just by the way he dressed.

It was fair to say Elena’s interest in this eccentric boy was piqued.

Incidentally, the feeling was mutual. Robert was instantly caught up in the way her deep brown hair fell in natural waves down her back, tamed, yet allowed to sway freely with every movement she made. And her eyes, fuck, they were so big and captivating. He’d already picked up on her accent, always one to take note of such things. Alluring, unapologetically informal. So care-free. He only hoped that his first impressions of her were accurate. It would be a shame to see something so beautiful turn out to be the complete opposite.

“Bonzo’s a great drummer, isn’t he?”

Elena, leaning against the wall with her hands behind her back, cocked her head in Robert’s direction. “Bonzo?”

“John.” He nodded his head towards him.

“He’s a fantastic drummer. Always thought that of him.” Elena’s voice was soft as she admired him from afar. 

“How long have you two been together?”

The brunette had to steal a minute to confirm she had heard correctly. She had paused amid her smile in John’s direction. “Who?” she checked, glancing at Robert.

“You and John.”

“Oh God, no,” she was quick to shake her head, face falling flat. “No, no…”

Robert’s light smile fell slightly, and a soft shade of pink infiltrated his cheeks. “No?”

“Yeah, no.”

“No, what?”

“We aren’t together,” she insisted with a gesturing finger between herself and her best friend. “Hasn’t he told you he’s married?”

Robert’s eyebrows scrunched up, sending a curious glance over at John. “It’s never come up in conversation, I guess.”

“It was recent, to be fair.” Elena watched Robert’s analytical observation. “He’s got a one-month old son, as well.”

“Well, shit,” Robert breathed, running a hand over his face. “Sorry, I just assumed ‘cause of how close you two seem to be…” Behind the comfort of his hand, he scrunched up his face in embarrassment and shook his head. “Fuckin’ Bonzo…” he muttered. Crawling King Snakes hadn’t been together for longer than a couple of months, and none of the eight sessions they'd had thus far consisted of private-life talk. Each of them were too preoccupied with the music and forming a cohesive combination of personalities to delve into the lives of one another.

Elena’s swift dismissal may have translated as abrasive, and she became quickly aware of that as soon as Robert hid his face behind his hand, inaudibly scolding himself. She didn’t jump to reassure him, however. His sensitivity to the smallest misunderstanding was captivating. Rare. There was no need to maintain emphasis on something that clearly left him unwillingly flustered.

So, she changed the topic, focusing on the nickname Robert had used twice now.

“You call him Bonzo?” Elena smiled, not only at the name, but the way it sounded on a Black Country tongue. 

“Yeah, well,” Robert chuckled, showing an off-centre slant in his smile that emphasised the dimple on his right cheek. “He was insistent on calling me Bobby, so I thought I’d call him something that would piss him off even more, but…” He shook his head, watching his bandmate test out each drum to perfection. “He actually didn’t mind it, so it’s stuck.”

“Bonzo…” Elena tested the name in her own mouth, the cadence different in her Lancashire drawl. “It fits him, dunnit?” She said through a grin. “I’ve always called him Bon-Bon.”

“Like the sweet?” Robert looked down at her, resting his hand on the wall beside her head casually, the small blip in their conversation fading into obscurity.

She nodded, still looking at John. “Mhm. It was actually an accident,” she pointed out, glancing at Robert. “I guess I struggled to say ‘Bonham’ when I was 4.”

“Blimey, you’ve known him for that long?”

Elena turned her head to him fully, her mouth dropping open a bit. “Alright, calm down, how old do you think I am?”

“I-I didn’t mean it as in ‘you’re old’!” Robert laughed. “You can’t be much older than us!”

“I’m actually younger than John by a year, so…”

“Well, I’m younger than him by a few months.” 

“So, there you go, I’m not old.”

“Listen, luv, I was simply shocked by how long you’ve known him,” Robert incessantly defended himself, much to Elena’s amusement. She smiled at him, looking back at John.

“Nah, I bloody wish I was older.”

“And why’s that?”

“Can’t drink yet, can I?” She gave Robert a pointed look.

“That’s right, you can’t.” He feigned distress, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “The struggles of being 17 in England.”

“Oh, I know, it’s torture,” she played along, resting her head back against the wall.

He smirked. “So, you’re a drinker, then, eh?”

“Well…” she shrugged, “A bit, yeah. I work in a pub as a waitress, so sometimes I can have half a pint at the end of the shift if there aren’t that many people in. Which hardly ever happens.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve only recently turned 18, so I’m still trying to get used to buying alcohol in the shops without worrying about being caught,” Robert chided. “What pub d’you work in?”

“The George Inn. It’s like slam in between here and up in Walsall.”

“I see…” Robert nodded, chewing his lip in thought.

“That being said, I want to move a bit closer to here, eventually. Not entirely in the city centre, though, I like the countryside a bit too much.”

Robert just smiled as she spoke. He took in every piece of information, enjoying the way she’d speak in her hometown slang every now and then. She definitely spoke a lot, but Robert didn’t mind. He admired it.

“Like, closer to the city, but not completely in the city… d’ya get what I mean?” She looked up at Robert, completely unashamed of her rambling. 

“I get what you mean, luv,” he reassured.

“I know this might be weird, but I just love being surrounded by nature. It’s how I grew up—how both of us grew up,” she gestured between herself and John, who was almost done. “And I have a thing for plants. Being in the city doesn’t really reward you with that stuff, does it?”

Elena watched as Robert’s smile widened, seemingly proud of himself. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that look for?”

“You have a thing for plants?” he asked.

“Alright, I know it’s a bit… nerdy, or whatever, but yeah, I do. I like the smell of them when you’ve just watered them, and the reflections they make when the sun hits them in the right spot. They brighten up a room. There’s just something… comforting about them.”

“You really don’t need to defend yourself, Elena.” She liked the way he said her name. It was almost like he was testing it out for the first time. “I’m a bit like that with nature. My parents used to take me over to Wales every year on holiday, and we’d stay right in the heart of nature. Right on the coast. It was great.” He folded his arms, glancing over at John. “Aren’t you bloody done, yet?”

“You’re the one yappin’ on over there ‘bout God knows what, don’t have a chomp at Bonz!” Dave scolded, punctuated with a funky run of notes from his bass.

“Oh, shit,” Robert snorted, his face flushing where his sideburns faded out into a light beard. “Guess that’s me cue,” he said to Elena, a small boost of confidence overtaking him in the dawn of stepping in front of a band. “Oh, by the way, my last name is Plant. And I’ve been known to brighten up any room,” he teased with a boyish wink.

Elena couldn’t help but grin, as much as she tried to resist looking silly, as she watched him walk up to the mic stand.

If Robert didn’t feel some kind of pressure before, he certainly did now. He’d just bigged himself up in the most pretentious way possible, in his mind, by using his name. His bloody name! If he could, he would have slapped himself, right in the face. As he stood there, right in between his bandmates and the inquisitive gaze of Elena, he felt it brewing in the pit of his stomach. A certain drive. A metaphorical shove to let go. To show off. To submerge himself in the euphoria he called music. To do everything he’d admired his idols for for so long now. 

In this moment, he finally caught the essence by a fleeting blink of an eye, and he grasped it as firmly as he did the microphone, determined to never let it go.

Unsure of what she was expecting from the seemingly delicate, unruly-haired, sapphire-eyed young man in front of her, Elena sat on the edge of her seat as Robert exorcised such visceral sounds from his mouth. Unlike anything she’d ever heard. She watched as he got completely lost in the rhythm, shaking his curls around in time with each riff. 

The perfect combination of what she’d grown up on and what she’d recently ventured into.

It left her speechless; a big deal for someone like Elena, who rarely managed to keep her mouth shut. She had to distract herself, keep herself from acting like a babbling idiot before Robert even thought about asking her for feedback. So, whilst Robert helped John with some wires at the end of their session, Elena struck up a conversation with Paul, eager to know about his influences. But as much as she tried to focus on what Paul was saying, her eyes betrayed her mind, and made brief but definite glances at the singer on the drum-riser.

Robert bit onto his tongue as he concentrated on winding up one of the wires that had previously been connected to his microphone. John was busy complaining about how they had to make sure they left the room the way they found it, despite the state they found it in. They’d be blamed for it either way. Young, aspiring musicians were blamed for everything these days.

He made sure to nod along, but stayed entirely fascinated by Elena, making hidden glances over at her as she chatted with Paul. Her hair that struck him upon impact now became an accomplice to the rest of her; the two hours he’d been in her presence was enough for him to know he wanted to see more. He wanted to know her, learn from her. 

“Uh, Bonz’,” he interrupted John’s rant. He took another moment to succumb to the temptation Elena unknowingly laid out for him, her own cheeks adorned with faint dimples when she laughed. Finally able to tear his eyes from her, he looked at John. “Is, uh…” He nodded his head in the relative direction of Elena. “Is Elena gunna be around a lot, d’you think?” He tried to make his inquisition as casual as possible, nonchalantly hanging the wire in his hands up on one of the hooks behind the drumset. 

Whilst John Bonham enjoyed his off-peak ramblings, he wasn’t naive, and he most certainly wasn’t an idiot. This wasn’t the first time another guy had come up to him with a question about his childhood best friend, wondering if she was single, if they were a couple, or anything of that nature. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but it happened enough for him to recognise that tone and look in the eye of any man who asked about a woman with an underlying interest in getting to know her. 

He stood from his seat, stretching his back out with an exaggerated groan to cover up the smirk on his face. “If she’s not working, I should imagine she’ll be around us a lot,” he responded, watching intently at Robert’s reaction. But Robert knew he was being watched, and tilted his head in an attempt to cover his expressions with the curls atop his head. This’d be fuckin’ easier if my hair was long…

“You don’t have an issue with her bein’ around, do you?”

“No,” Robert answered immediately, lifting his head up to meet amused eyes. “Just… it was just a question,” he sighed, giving up as Elena appeared at the bottom of the drum-riser, smiling at John.

“Yep, almost done, El,” he responded to a silent question he knew she was about to ask. “What time you s’pposed to start your shift?”

“Five,” she answered, folding her arms and sending a comfortable smile over to Robert.

“What’d’ya think?” Robert asked, jumping down from the riser.

Elena’s smile widened, but her response was cut off before she could even begin.

“What do you mean, ‘what’d’ya think’?” John chuckled. “El loves anything I do, isn’t that right?”

“‘Ar Bon-Bon is clearly very modest,” Elena teased, sending John a wry grin before turning her attention back to Robert. She considered him for a second, the earlier elation settled in her chest for now, and she was able to respond with a coherent elegance. “Not bad, Plant.”

Robert answered with an equally elegant nod of appreciation.

“Right, all done, love,” John huffed, joining them. “Ready to go?” he asked Elena. She nodded with a hum of approval. “Same time next week, yeah?” John turned to Robert, offering a manly hug once again, which consisted of a half-hug and a slap on the back. Receiving confirmation, John fished out his cigarettes in preparation for the ride to Elena’s work.

Before leaving, Robert made sure to give Elena another gallant kiss on the cheek, letting her know it was nice to meet her. She responded in kind, giving his arm a small squeeze in the process.

And as he watched the dynamic duo leave, Robert found himself already restless for next week’s session, where he’d hopefully get to see Elena again.