#i haven’t been freaked out ab the actual leaving home part this whole time

[sunnibits]

guysss I’m literally going to college for the first time in like 9 days I’m so scared 😭😭 sunny independent era is RAPIDLY approaching

[trophywifetroybarnes]

do you have any other community ships besides trobed?

I definitely do! I'll go into it under the cut!

trobed is, for me, THE ship. They’re my favorite, and that one ship that I keep coming back to. they’re also one of the few ships out there where, I truly cannot imagine them with anyone else. like sure, I think there have been cases in between for both of them (Britta, Abed’s side adventures, Rachel, etc,) but none of those are relationships that I think can last, because Troy and Abed are so endgame—it’s like, they’re the one ship I look at and go, oh, okay, soulmates, and it’s because they actively worked for it.

Troy put effort into being Abed’s friend, and Abed has so much patience with Troy—they take the time to actually work. It looks so fun and seamless on screen, they’re so whimsical, it almost looks like it’s so easy and that they clicked right away, but no, they had to work for it. (Somewhere Out There being an example, with Troy realizing he has to help Abed too. The whole STD fair bit where Abed catches on to Troy being in the midst of a toxic masculinity induced breakdown and letting him win, etc.) And they have to keep working on it, (the celebrity impersonators, the pillow and blanket war, the lava and Abed learning to let Troy go and Troy learning how to leave, etc.)

they work because they took the time to do so. And because of that, and what they bring out in each other (Troy pulling Abed from viewer to active cast member, Abed pulling Troy from the repressed jock persona) as well as the actual insanity of the depths of their feelings for each other (just look at the way they look at each other. listen to the words that come out of their mouths. “Other half. I love you. I know. You were out there somewhere and you weren’t looking for me? By the way when I cloned you, I had to patch some missing parts of your DNA with genes from a homing pigeon. You may notice some side effects, like the compulsion to come back.” Just think for a second about how abed views Troy as a remarkable in a world of unremarkables.)

not to mention the way they complement each other. abed likes being in control (he’s a self-described control freak) and Troy likes being told what to do (‘I miss being told what to think’) and in particular seems very happy to be told what to do by abed.

They drive me crazy. and so, when it comes to Troy and Abed respectively, I don’t have any ships for them that isn’t just Trobed. And I mean, they’re also both very jealous or possessive when it comes to the other so, yeah, once they’re together I feel like it’d stay like that. Troy just needs to come back from sea already.

I’m so sorry btw. That you asked me about whether or not I have any ships besides trobed and I said yeah I sure do! And then went on to talk about trobed 😭

I was just trying to explain first that I do have other community ships but not in regards to Troy and Abed. Now onto the other ships before I get sidetracked again;

Jeff/Britta— they are my second fave ship like. I love them to an unhealthy degree, and I love how they also build off each other. (The “you need to bang his mom” scene always gets me) I read a fic once, by @troybarnesbabygirlconfirmed where Jeff was thinking about how he and Abed are so similar, and if anything "Abed was simply Jeff more devoutly committed to the people he loves, and that Troy is Abed’s Britta." I’ve been losing my mind over that ever since because yeah, that’s it exactly. You know how I said Trobed are soulmates not just bc of the way they click but because they work to understand each other? Jeff and Britta have that too, I think, in that Jeff does value what Britta says, and Britta cares so much. Jeff cares so much. The thanksgiving episode will forever gut me. The only reason I haven’t put JeffBritta on the Trobed-level is because whereas I cannot separate Troy and Abed, I do have another Jeff ship and another Britta ship.

Jeff/Shirley- okay. okay hear me out. how come nearly everyone had some sort of entanglement within the study group and not Shirley? I don’t think it’s just cause of Andre. I like Jeff/Shirley. They’re the same age, and they complement each other well, with Jeff trying to run from love while simultaneously craving it, and Shirley trying to hold on to love and toughing it out even when sometimes it doesn’t seem worth it at all. Besides, the whole foosball episode, where they found out they knew each other when they were kids? I love that episode, because the way they were hanging out and having fun was just so precious. And, in the episode with Blade, it’s also revealed that whenever Jeff is up to some sort of scheme/plan/type thing that he doesn’t want the others to know about, he goes with Shirley. He loves gossiping with Shirley. Their rapport is just so good, I loved seeing it. And I can’t help but remember that one post about an AU where in s1, after Shirley’s divorce, and when Jeff is living in his car, Shirley puts up a room in her home for rent, and Jeff ends up moving in. The POTENTIAL. Him meeting and interacting with her kids. we could have had it all. I know s1 Jeff may not have been ready for that. But we could have had it all!!!

Rich Stephenson/Ben Chang- entering crack ship territory but I just think it would be so funny.

Annie/A Girlfriend- She's a lesbian guys. At least, that's my take. I cannot view her as a character who isn't experiencing comphet. Okay. Sexuality is fluid, and I've never been into labels myself because sometimes, the overlap and intersection of attraction--in whichever form--gets tricky for me, personally. Like okay, I think Abed, Jeff, and Britta are bi. I think Annie is a lesbian, and that Shirley is straight. But sometimes I look at Troy, who I think is gay, and think yeah, he could be a high 5, almost 6, on the Kinsey scale. Which is to say--I think he's gay! But I think there could be a small possibility of a moment or two where he could get dominated by a strong capable woman. Do I think the chance is high? No. Its low but not totally zero. But then, this is Troy we're talking about. Troy who once made it clear to Annie that he liked butt stuff while holding his arms out and closing his eyes, so we can only assume from that moment that he was expecting her to top. That and Troy is someone who can be weird about his gender as we--oh my god, i went on another tangent AGAIN, I am so sorry. basically--GIVE ANNIE A GIRLFRIEND. i see the potential for annie kim/annie edison, i think it would be hilarious, but also, I was rewatching CW's Nancy Drew with one of my friends and. I was so enamored with the character of Bess to the point where I think, FBI agent Annie should get with a down on her luck former-conwoman from London. (Someday I'll finish my transfemme Troy Barnes fic and Annie will get that plotline, SOMEDAY)

Dean/Dean- toxic yaoi, its messy, i want more

Dean/Happiness- let the dean be a happy and free and

Frankie/Britta- I haven't actually watched past a few episodes post-geothermal escapism, and haven't reached that point in my rewatch, but I've read a few fics, heard out a few friends and I see it.

Todd/His Wife-I just hope that when the study group broke todd they didnt break his family while they were at it

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

She had put on a positive face for Abe, but internally Ulyssa was extremely conflicted about her feelings for Roman. She knew that he legitimately cared about Abe, but also knew how self absorbed Roman could be. It was the Bellamy way to act like they were above everyone else and Roman had learned a lot from his grandfather. It seemed like Abe was the only person able to cut through the Bellamy brainwashing and get Roman to feel. In the corner of her mind, Ulyssa wondered how Roman would have treated the situation if she had gotten pregnant from their brief affair or if he’d ever been able to seduce her idiot brother. Probably even worse than this, if she was being honest with herself.

Her feelings towards Roman were always in flux because of the huge wall that he put up between him and the world. She was never sure if she actually liked Roman or was attracted to him, or felt pity for him, or if she secretly enjoyed their little arguments. Maybe Abe could help bring that wall down permanently one day, or at the very least, keep Roman from pissing people off so frequently.

Ulyssa left an hour later, after making sure Abe was in an okay place about his boyfriend. If she wasn’t sure about her feelings about Roman, she at least was starting to see Abe and Lucy as friends because of all of this. In a place like Arkhelios, teen friendships seemed to be rare, and however this all ended, Ulyssa was glad that she had gotten to better know the Chuns. Between this secret, and their parents running off together, she knew that if she needed support, she could actually find some back in Arkhelios.

Abe had gone to bed immediately after Ulyssa left, if only to have some time for himself away from Lucy’s over protectiveness. His mind was swirling with thoughts and feelings that he needed to process by himself without her open anger at Roman. To be honest though, he was starting to feel influenced by her remarks. Maybe Roman wasn’t coming back after all. Maybe he would return to school, and only see his family over school breaks.

An even worse feeling came over him suddenly. What if he brought home someone else from Pleasantview? Even if it had been arranged by his grandfather without Roman’s input, Abe wasn’t sure that he could live in an Arkhelios where Roman was engaged to some rich sim and forgot about all about him. He knew Lucy thought about this possibility all the time, and it had been Roman’s mission to bring new people here by any means necessary....

Abe buried his head in his pillow and groaned. This was a line of thought for tomorrow, when he didn’t feel so hopeless.

His bedroom door squeaked open, and Abe figured that it was just Lucy checking on him again. He turned on his side and pretended to be asleep, so she wouldn’t stay to make even more pitying remarks about Roman’s intentions.

“Abe? Are you awake?”

Abe bolted up quickly in his bed. He’d know that voice anywhere!

“Roman! You’re here! I can’t believe it!”

Against all odds, Roman was actually standing in Abe’s bedroom. Unless this was some kind of magical hallucination or trick, Abe had been right about Roman’s feelings for him.

Roman looked awkwardly at his feet.

“....Hi. How are you?” Roman cursed himself internally for being so awkward. It was just Abe after all. Still, it felt weird to talk to him now without bringing up the elephant in the room.

“Lucy was convinced that you were half-way to Veronaville by now.”

Roman flushed furiously. Neither teen moved for fear of spooking the other one. Abe could feel the tension in the room like it was physically pressing on him.

“I just needed some time,” Roman said. “I shouldn’t have run...but I’m here now. I want to be there for you...if you still want me to be.”

The tension began to ease. Abe quickly crossed the distance between them and grabbed Roman’s hands, placing them on his ever expanding stomach.

“Of course I still want you here!” he said fiercely. “It’s all I’ve been wanting since I found out about this...situation.”

The two teens sat on the floor and looked at the ground. Neither one seemed to know what to say. Roman reached for Abe’s hand, which caused Abe to jump and Roman quickly withdrew his own hand. Touching each other was what had caused this situation in the first place, and Abe still had Lucy’s warnings ringing in his head. Maybe if Roman had come immediately things would have been fine, but Abe had been freaking out alone for days now, and there was still awkwardness between them. Roman cleared his throat.

“H-how have things been?”

“The morning sickness has gotten a lot better, thank god,” Abe replied, and Roman nodded sympathetically.

“That sounds rough.” He made and held eye contact with Abe. “I’m sorry that I took so long to get here. I...I’m sorry that I put you in this position to start with. I never intended for this to happen.”

Abe reached for his hand without hesitation this time.

“I know,” he said. “Neither did I. It’s been kind of a roller coaster of feelings the past few days.”

“My uncle Hunter is adopted,” Roman blurted out suddenly. “His dad was Launce Durant, and my grandparents adopted him.”

Abe realized where this conversation was heading, and he was glad that Roman brought it up first. He had heard the Durants talking about their long lost half-brother before, and everyone wondered who Hunter’s other parent had been. Abe’s mom used to date Launce, but everyone knew how Launce’s life had spiraled out of control when his brother Benvolio died. Any one could be Hunter’s mother or father. Elaine had certainly not commented on Hunter’s origins, and Abe figured that if he had a half-brother out there, she would have probably mentioned it by now.

“When I worked at the orphanage, the kids seemed pretty happy,” Roman continued, playing absentmindedly with his shoelaces. “Some of them got adopted really quickly. I don’t think anyone here would know if...if we went there.”

Tears were starting to well up for both teens. Abe nodded and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah, no one would know,” he repeated sadly. “Maybe that’s best. Hunter seems really happy, and Launce sees him all the time now.”

Abe crawled back into his bed, and Roman mindlessly followed. Abe wrapped himself around Roman and tried not to cry.

“Roman? I don’t want to be like Launce,” he whispered. “Stay with me? We can figure this out together. What’s the difference of our families finding out about us now instead of when we’re in college? It’s only a few years.”

Roman froze momentarily, remembering his grandfather’s anger at the idea of him even talking to the Chuns, and the disappointment of his grandmother for not heeding her warnings about him following his hormones. He thought of how intensely Elaine watched him while he was near Abe, and what Lucy and Ulyssa surely thought of him by now.

He pulled Abe in closer to him.

“Okay,” he vowed. “We’ll do this together. Who cares about who knows.”

Elaine left for work early in the morning, blissfully unaware of the teenage drama brewing in her house. Oriana had pressing business at the bank for Abraham’s estate, and hitched a ride downtown with her wife, leaving the house in Ironman’s control. He had been acting a little dodgy lately when she talked about the kids, but she chalked it up to him readjusting to having Elaine back in his life, and getting to know the kids he had never seen because of Elaine and Abraham’s fighting.

Ironman purposely started his house cleaning away from the noisy kitchen, where he could hear Lucy shouting. Better to have plausible deniability and not check into that, he decided. He wasn’t sure to what extent his programming would allow him to keep information from his partner, so knowing nothing was probably the safer route. He felt that Oriana and Elaine would have more compassion than Abraham had shown for Elaine all those years ago, but he didn’t want to risk history repeating itself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lucy was shouting presumably at some one who didn’t normally live there, and was therefore a part of this messy situation. Ironman made himself scarce before he found out more.

Jorah had come over to walk to school with Lucy like he usually did, and was currently holding her back from attacking Roman.

“It’s romantic, he sighed dreamily. “Two people from fighting families falling in love and running off to start a life together....”

Finding Roman making pancakes for her brother was the last thing Lucy had expected to see that morning. The fact that they were acting so weirdly in love, and holding each other like they had planned this whole mess...It was impossible to stomach. Roman abandoned Abe for days and now here he was making a mess of the kitchen and spouting off syrupy declarations of love to her idiot brother.

“Jorah you can’t be buying this,” she groaned. “This is ridiculous! This isn’t a Veronaville soap opera, it’s real life and you two are about to ruin both of yours. Don’t let Roman drag you down like this Abe. He may have hit rock bottom, but you still have a future!”

“I haven’t hit rock bottom,” Roman corrected while flipping pancakes. “Dropping out of school means that I have time to be a dad now, and I can make breakfast for Abe every day.”

“Dropping out? You are being expelled,” Lucy corrected angrily. “And you have no money, no job and now no education. Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay for things like diapers and you know, basic things like food?”

Abe poked at his pancakes nervously.

“Well, Mom might let us stay,” he said. “Or the Bellamys. I’m sure they’d understand, and want to help raise their grandkid.”

“You think Mom is going to let Roman Bellamy live in our house? You think the Bellamys won’t just kick you to the curb? Look at how they’ve treated Adam his whole life. Look at how they’re treating him and Omar now!”

“But this would be different,” Abe protested. “Our families could come together now and be happy. Romeo and Juliet’s love always ends the fighting in the stories.”

Lucy just stared at her brother, unable to comprehend his line of thinking.

“No, you know what brings Romeo and Juliet’s families together? Death and lots of it.” She pointed at Abe with intensity. “If you decide to bring this idiot to Mom or walk into Salem Bellamy’s house with a baby, that’s all you will get too. If you are really serious about ruining your life, then go anywhere but here with Roman. Go to Pleasantview. Go live out your stupid fantasy in Veronaville. Just leave before you become yet another unsolved murder here.”

Lucy stood up dramatically, dragging an open mouthed Jorah with her.

“Some of us still have school to attend.”

[unicyclehippo]

family & jester

‘Did you ever want more siblings, Beau?’

It doesn’t really occur to her until after she’s asked that it might be a touchy subject—not just because of her actual brother but the whole family thing is, well. Difficult.

But she must have caught Beau in a good mood because her friend barely stirs. Her hand twists lazily on the end of her wrist, dipping fingers into the cool pond she lays beside. The wind that whips across the surface of the pool, bringing the chill with it, is gentle, playful. Dips into tall grass and the ribbons tied onto Beau’s bo, into the pleats of Jester’s skirts and to tinkle the jewellery that hangs upon her horns. Somewhere in the distance, a frog croaks. There’s a plop and a wet slap and a splatter as something sends it bounding away and into the pond. There’s the drone of bees not far from them, and the burbling of conversation that sounds like it comes from a half dozen Caduceus’s—the whole family awakes early, apparently. Like Beau had.

‘Sometimes.’

Jester had very nearly forgotten what she’d asked; she’d very nearly forgotten that she’d asked anything at all, if she’s being honest, distracted as she was by the garden and the conversation just out of earshot and the sight of Beau in her training pants and breastband, shirt discarded at some point as she had been training. Sweat glistens on her abs, her biceps, the remarkable hooked definition where the musculature of her upper arms meets the cording tendon of her elbows. The faint discoloured texture of scars and stretch marks across Beau’s abdomen and hips. Has Jester ever seen her like this before? She has changed in Jester’s company before but that is always in the dark of their room—dark vision or no, Jester doesn’t think she’s seen Beau in vibrant lively lovely colour, half-naked in the daylight.

It’s. It sure is something else.

‘You?’

‘Huh?’

Beau blinks open one eye. Rolls it in her head until she can see Jester standing only a few feet away. ‘Did you want more siblings?’

‘Oh.’ Jester blinks a few times hard. Sits with a thump and kicks her legs out, pulls a clump of grass into her hands to peel at the blades, twist the dew-coated leaves into rings and bows and knots. ‘That wasn’t really an answer, Beau.’

‘What? Whaddya mean it wasn’t an answer?’

Jester grins. Watches Beau lift herself smooth—core tightening—into a half-sitting position, bracing herself on her elbows as she cricks her neck to glower at Jester.

‘Now why’re you grinning at me?’ Beau demands, and its funny because with the whole world so gentle and quiet around them—not silent, but quiet—Jester can hear perfectly clearly what she has long known and longer suspected. That rough words, rough tone... That’s sometimes all it is. Just a cloak. Without the whole world vying for their attention, and screaming in their ears, Jester can hear Beau.

‘You’re so dramatic, Beau.’

‘Me? Drama—I’m not dramatic. You’re dramatic. And a distraction. You still haven’t answered the question.’

‘Neither have you!’

‘Yes I did, I said sometimes.’

‘Sometimes isn’t an answer.’

‘I mean, technically it—’

‘Technically,’ Jester interrupts very sweetly and leans forward, sliding a grass ring onto Beau’s forefinger, ‘if you have to defend yourself by saying technically, it probably isn’t a good argument.’

‘Or I’m being a skeeze.’

‘Or you’re being a big old skeeze,’ Jester agrees.

Beau admires the grass ring for a moment. She lays back down, crossing her ankles, and resting her head on the hand she had been dipping into the pool. She doesn’t seem to mind the feeling of a wet hand. ‘I thought about it,’ she says. ‘A lot. Mostly as a kid. Yknow, lots of—I say lots but there was only, what, five other families in Kamordah we really spoke to. But those families, all of ‘em had two or three kids. I thought about it a lot. Built in friend, a sibling. And when I got older, I just really wanted someone else to. Suffer with me?’ She says it like it’s a question, but Jester doesn’t know what she’s asking—if it makes sense? Or if she’s bad for thinking it?

It’s not supposed to be this easy to talk to Beau about things like this. She’s stand-offish and rude and protective of her secrets—except when they’re alone, though. Isn’t that—hasn’t that kinda always been the case? Beau will tell her things. Provided they’re alone. Provided it’s just Jester.

‘So? What about you?’

‘No,’ Jester says, shrugs. She twists the last portion of another ring into place, knots it deftly. ‘Hand.’

Beau offers her hand, fingers splayed. Jester slides the ring next to the first. The third one she thinks should have a flower or something, just a little one. Like a jewel.

‘You really never wanted a sibling?’

‘I don’t think so. My whole life I knew...it was a risk? Having me. Keeping me there. It would have been silly to have another one.’

‘Yeah. I guess.’

‘And besides,’ Jester says, and she leans forward so she’s bent at the waist and her head is almost over Beau’s, her shadow covering one half of her face, ‘I like having all my mama’s attention.’

‘You? Like attention? No way.’ Beau teases. Snorts. She opens her eyes when Jester slaps her shoulder gently, grins up at her, eyes glittering with the sunlight and her smile as she catches Jester’s wrist, keeps her from doing it again. Her fingers are dry and cool and the grass itches against the sensitive skin of Jester’s wrist.

‘What about kids?’ Jester asks. The question isn’t one she expected—it emerges from beneath her tongue where it had been hidden even from her.

There are no clouds in the sky for once; still, Beau’s eyes darken like storm clouds had rolled in overhead. They don’t shine with her smile. They seem to dull, so quickly it sends a pang through Jester’s chest. Another follows fast on its heels when Beau lets her hand drop from Jester’s.

‘Kids? Nah.’

Jester thinks she’s lying. Beau’s voice is rough, tone crushed forcibly flat.

‘Because you don’t like kids?’

Beau shrugs. Squeezes her eyes shut and turns her head like she’s a flower searching for the sun.

‘Beau?’

‘What?’

‘Can you really not see...any kind of future?’ Beau goes very still then and, when she doesn’t speak even after a drawn out moment, Jester continues. ‘I heard you. What you said to Essek? I know you say you lie a lot, especially to people you don’t trust so I don’t...know if that’s what this is but I did hear you.’

‘Huh.’

‘You thought you’d be dead by nineteen.’

Beau breathes out shakily but doesn’t say anything.

‘Is that—I mean, you didn’t know any of us when you were nineteen, I guess it’d be really cool and strange if you’d planned for us.’

Beau barks a laugh. ‘No. I sure as fuck didn’t plan for you guys. Or you.’

It’s a serious conversation. A sad one, even. A thrill doesn’t go through Jester at the acknowledgement that she is something more. She just likes the attention. That’s all.

‘I wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout kids or wars or shit like that at nineteen. I wouldn’t never’ve imagined...’

‘What about now? Can you imagine it now?’

Beau’s smile crinkles one full half of her face. She turns her head very slightly—eyes still closed—as the sunlight returns full force from wherever it had been hiding.

‘Beach house. Couple kids running. Luc. Maybe Kiri. She’s found her home though, I guess.’

‘Yeah. She seems happy. I scry on her sometimes.’

Beau nods. She doesn’t seem surprised by that. Or isn’t letting it distract her from her daydream.

The morning is bright and warm and quiet. Jester ruins a few grass rings and the smell of the broken blades are crisp and clean in the air. Green clings to her fingers, and in small parts to Beau’s when Jester slides another ring into place.

‘You thinking’ about this shit because of Ducey?’ Beau asks. ‘Saving his home and all that?’

‘Maybe. I guess.’ Jester shrugs. ‘I’ve never met someone with so many siblings.’

‘Yeah, no wonder he’s weird. Two happy parents, a host of siblings, and a good home. He’s practically a freak in our group.’

Jester laughs, more amused by the fondness and faint irritation in Beau’s voice than the actual joke which is...kinda sad, if she thinks about it. So she doesn’t.

[khanyienongogo]

Chapter 1 - “The Stranger”

It is now 10 pm and my shift at the restaurant just ended, so I'm walking home. The way I'm so tired you guys have no idea. I swear my feet are even breathing. My mother and I live in a two bedroom apartment, which is more or less a 20 minute walk distance from the restaurant. It is not far but if you're as tired as I am at the moment it seems very far. My friends always tell me how risky it is to walk by myself at night...they say I should get a taxi which is ridiculous because the restaurant is not that far from where I live for me to get a taxi and anyway taxis are scarce at this time of night. A cab is expensive especially at this time and unfortunately I don't have money to waste so walking will have to do. Yes, sometimes it does get a little scary to walk all by myself at night, especially when I see strange looking men wearing hoodies standing at the street corners, but on most nights the streets are vacant. My friends always tease me saying that with all the walking I do every night, I should've at least lost some weight. I also don't know why I haven't lost any weight. Back in high school I used to try everything that would make me lose weight so that I wouldn't get picked on. I would take diet pills and I would also do bingeing, but that is a story for another time. See? I told you I had issues. Anyway what I was trying to say is that all of those methods didn't help me lose weight...at all.

I picked up my pace, it was getting cold. I was already picturing myself taking a hot bath and going to sleep. I had a long day ahead of me tomorrow. The school work that needed to be done was just too much and having to waitress every single day after my classes didn't help either. The joy that is my life! I'm about to cross the street when I hear someone moaning. At first I don't mind it because at night you hear a lot of things. The moaning continues...it is more prominent now. I stop walking, firstly because I'm a little scared since you can never be too safe, and secondly because the person moaning is in pain. I look around trying to put a face to the moaning but I see no one...the streets are completely empty. The person moans louder and I edge closer to where I think the sound is coming from. When I get closer to the sound I see a body on the floor next to the big garbage bins. I pause and look around unsure. I'm contemplating if I should just turn around and pretend as if I didn't see anything or if I should find out what is wrong with the person who is obviously hurt on near the garbage bins. After what seems like a decade I edge closer to where the body is...I can't let someone die on my watch. I know some of you are probably calling me stupid for not turning around and walking home like I was doing before I heard the moans. But I couldn't do it people. I couldn't disregard this person who needed help.

Me: "Hey...are you fine?" I called out as I edged a little closer to the body. Even though I wanted to help the person, it didn't mean that I wasn't wary about the whole situation. I mean this person could be trouble. But nonetheless I was going to help. From what I could see, this was a man. The body was too big to be a woman. The man answered me with more moans and groans. I couldn't see properly because the lighting on this part was bad..."should I call the ambulance for you?" I got more moans and groans. I sighed. I walked closer until I reached him and I gasped loudly when I saw blood next to him on the concrete. It wasn't a lot of blood but it was still blood. Oh my gosh...oh my gosh...oh my gosh. I was freaking out! He is hurt! I mean I knew he was hurt when I heard the moaning but I didn't think blood was involved. Blood meant this was serious. I knelt down next to him not knowing what to do. The man had both his hands pressed against his stomach where he was hurt. His whole face, which I could see clearer since I was close to him, was contorted in pain..."I'm calling the ambulance" I announced with a panicked voice. The man shook his head. He was crazy if he thought I wasn't going to call the ambulance. I took out my phone out of my handbag with shaky hands.

Him: "Don't." He grunted forcefully in pain. I paused.

Me: "But you're hurt, the ambu-."

Him: "Don't." He said more forcefully than before. He tried to get up. Oh my gosh! This is a crazy person! I quickly pocketed my phone and tried to help him up. When I said tried, I meant every sense of the word, because the the man was so heavy and huge. He was a freaking giant! He finally got to his feet with his own might, because to tell you the truth getting him up was like pulling on concrete. He still had his hands pressing on his stomach...and blood was coating his hands. I wonder who did this to him? I mean the guy was a giant. I'm sure he had been ganged up or something because it would surely take a group of men to take on this guy.

Me: "I really think you should let me call an ambula-."

Him: "Shut up!" He barked harshly..."no hospitals." Oh my gosh! He's so rude! Did he just tell me to shut up when I'm trying to help him?! I should have left his ass and carried on home. He swayed on his feet and I tried to balance him out which led to us almost falling but he regained the balance for the both of us. Such a giant!

Me: "Um okay. At least tell me where you stay so I can help you get home." He grunted..."or I could just call an ambu-." He grunted out his address unhappily to me. You would think that he would be happy that someone was trying to help him. Jerk! Luckily I knew the place where he stayed, but it was way off from the way leading me home. Sigh! I led him towards the direction that went to his place...actually it was more like he was leading me. Who was hurt here? Me or him? This guy! We walked slowly towards his place. Every now and then, he would stop...grit his teeth and grunt in pain...then we would continue walking. I was starting to second guess myself ,because firstly, I should've called the ambulance despite his refusal. Secondly, I was walking a total stranger to his place. Yes, he was injured so it was unlikely that he would do something to me but there was a fact that he was a giant so he could overpower me if he wanted to even in his injured state. Thirdly, how was I going to get home? I mean by the time we reached his place, it would be too late, which meant that I had to spend my savings on getting a cab ride home. Damn! I huffed out loudly. He grunted. Jerk! Please remind me why I was helping him again?

We got to his place. He lived in more or less the same neighborhood as me. We got into the building. When I saw the lift, I nearly sagged in relief because I wouldn't have been able to hold him up the stairs, because during the walk to his place he had been getting weaker and weaker...so he was leaning his weight more and more on me now. And as I've said before the guy was a giant so you could imagine that state I was in. I was huffing and puffing everywhere in like a pig. Argh! I asked him his floor number and he grunted out the answer. I was also getting really irritated by his grunting. We got to his floor and he grunted out his room number. I huffed frustrated. I led him to his door. If you guys could've seen us we would've been a sight I'm telling you. I was literally struggling and Mr "don't call the ambulance" was not helping at all. After so many tries, I finally was was able to open his door. He stumbled in and went straight for the bathroom and locked himself in. Um...okay! I heard coming from the bathroom a lot of banging and of him grunting. This was for me to leave right? But guess what? My conscience wouldn't allow me to leave. I groaned. I went towards the bathroom and knocked. He grunted. Seriously?! What's up with this man? .... "um...look it's late so I need to go so..." I trailed off.

Him: "No." He responded roughly. What? Did he just say no? What does he mean no?

Me: "What?" I asked confused.

Him: "Stay. Don't. Leave." He commanded. I was so confused and a little scared. Why would he want me to stay?

Me: "Do you need help with the...you know..." I cleared my throat.

Him: "No. I'm fine. Just stay." Right after he grunted and groaned in pain. I frowned.

Me: "Open the door." I demanded annoyed with this whole situation. Silence greeted me..."if you don't open this door, I'm going to leave." I threatened weakly. I heard a huff then a grunt. He was annoyed with me..."okay then I guess I'm lea-." I was cut off by the opening of the bathroom door. My mouth was hanging open. Firstly, because he was half naked, I could see a whole lot of chest...abs...yes abs people! Believe it or not but this was my first time seeing a half naked man. The second reason why my mouth was hanging open was because I could see the wound across his middle where I guess he had been stabbed but that is not the reason for my mouth hanging open. What had my mouth hanging open was because the wound had stitches and he was holding a big ass needle in his hand. So all this time he had been stitching himself up. Oh my gosh! What had I gotten myself into? Who was this man........

[lifeoftheparty74]

Señorita

A/N: This wasn’t supposed to be so long, or be my first smut... But my hands had a mind of their own and this is the result. I’d love feedback!

Pairing(s): ShawnxReader. (sorry, I cut out Camila, but I wanted to for the imagine!) 

Word count: 2398

Warnings: Smutty! Oral(male and female recieving)

Of course I'd noticed the guy sitting at booth seven: He hadn't taken his eyes off me since he entered the café and frankly, though it should've freaked me out, I didn't mind it.

The guy was around my age, and if his clothing style and the bike he came here in didn't say enough, his eyes definitely did. He was of the bad boy type, and he was out for something.

And it seemed like he'd found his target.

The entire time during my shift, the handsome person kept making eye contact with me. He tried to get my attention, but I never spared him a second glance. I even asked Rosie, who'd normally do the tables at the left side of the restaurant, to switch areas so I didn't have to meet or talk to him.

According to Rose, he kept ordering and ordering again, but it appeared as if he did this just to stay longer.

However, when afternoon turned into evening, and my shift ended, he seemed to have given up and left.

Or so I thought.

The door fell closed behind me, and I was planning on just taking the bus home and spending my night watching series and eating chocolate.

"Señorita!"

The guy from next to the window blocked my view from the bus stop, hand laying on my upper arm softly and towering over me, forcing me to lift my head.

He was even more handsome up close: Perfect skin with the exception of an adorable scar on his cheek, eyes dark yet friendly, jawline to cut, and perfectly unruly curls.

"Qué deseas, Shawn?"

"Okay sorry, I have no idea what that means. I just knew Señorita."

"What do you want?"

"Talk to me."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." My voice was a whisper now, eyes focused on my feet.

"Can you look at me? Please?"

I craned my neck, our eyes locking.

"Will you please come with me?"

My mind spun a hundred miles an hour, going over my options and their consequences.

I could say no, and it would be better for both of our hearts and brains. But the offer was so appealing: To feel his skin against mine again, his lips all over my body, his voice in my ear, just Shawn, everywhere.

In the end, the attraction won. "Okay."

***

The motorbike races through the town, speeding across lights and other vehicles, until we reach a small hotel, a little outside of the center of the town.  Shawn seems in a hurry with jumping up the stairs and unlocking his room, actually pulling me along with him. It reminds me of when we were just teenagers in love, when we didn't know about the pain that would eventually end us.

The room is small, but the bed is large enough for two people. While a fan is on, the room still feels hot and I know it'll be even pressing in a couple of minutes.

I lean against the closed window, not really sure what to do. I hate the fact that it's so awkward between us right now, it never used to be that way. But my attention is shifted to something different as he sits on the bed and takes off his white shirt.

Holy shit.

In the year that I haven't seen him, his muscles have only grown and gotten more defined. I'd seen the Calvin Klein pictures, but assumed it would be at least partly photoshopped.

It wasn't.

My instincts pulled me towards him, standing between his legs.

Shawn never took his eyes from me as he stood up, making me feel very small and vulnerable, knowing he could tear me apart in a snap if he wanted, emotionally and physically.

Jesus, why was I even still thinking about this? I just want to enjoy this time with him.

So I raised up on my toes, fingers finding the soft curls at the nape of his neck, lips almost meeting his until he twisted us around, pushing me down onto the bed, and dropping himself on top of me.

I let out a little squeal, gripping his shoulders tightly to hold on to.

"It's okay baby, I'd never let you fall."

"Just kiss me, Mendes."

And he did.

God, he did.

His mouth actually devoured mine, tongue stroking mine, sucking it into his mouth softly, teeth tugging on my bottom lip, alternating between soft pecks on my lips and actually attacking me.

He tasted exactly like I'd remembered: sweet, like raspberries almost, but fresh and minty at the same time. Perfect.

While we were making out, our hands didn't stay still; Mine slid into his hair and over his shoulders, and his alternated between holding my hips, cupping my cheek, or laying on the bed around my head.

After a few minutes, it was clear both of us wanted more, and I moved the hand in his hair to his butt, pulling his crotch against me.

Shawn got the message, and started rolling his hips against me, making me pull away from his lips at last and keening into his hand that was now on my breast.

"Shawn," I whispered, not knowing why, he was just clouding my mind right now.

"Yeah hun? Feel good?"

"So good," my body moved back against him, making him groan loudly, and rest his forehead on mine.

"Do you want more, hm?"

"Please baby, please just do something."

"What do you want, señorita?"

Oh god, that nickname did things to me.

"You."

He maneuvered me so my head was laying on the pillow, and he hovered above me as we both hurries to take of my blouse and his hands didn't wait one second to reach under my back and unclasp my bra, a move he'd mastered over the years.

I shook the straps of my shoulders, while he bent down and took one of my breasts into his mouth. They were never really sensitive, but Shawn loved sucking on my nips, so he did until both of them were standing upright. When he pulled away, I took the opportunity to flip us over, settling myself on the v-line that led straight to the best part of him, that was still concealed by his boxers.

I pressed kisses down his Adam's apple, to his collar bones, and his oversensitive nipples. Meanwhile I fumbled with his jean button, and he helped my by kicking them off, making them land somewhere I wasn't bothered to figure out.

He was in just boxers now, and while climbing down his body, I took off my skirt, leaving me in just a simple pair of panties.

The bulge in his Calvin's made my mouth water, and all I wanted was to feel him tremble and squirm underneath me.

"Can I suck you off? Please?"

"God, is that even a question? Please do!"

And in no time, his boxers were on the ground and my mouth started to place kisses on his abs and inner thighs, working closer and closer to the huge cock that had all of my attention right now.

I grabbed the base of it in my right hand, left stroking his thick thigh. My lips immeadiatly found his tip, pressing soft kisses and kitten licks to it, before moving further down and coating his whole dick. It wasn't until he was actually keening off the bed, that I finally had mercy and took almost half of him at once into my mouth.

I was directly shocked by the familiarity of having him in my mouth, feeling so good and exiting to have again.

"Holy shit! Just like that, babe, just like that. Feels so fucking good," he panted. I smiled proudly, bobbing my head up and down.

My hand jerked off the part that I couldn't fit into my mouth yet, while the other one massaged his balls.

He soon couldn't keep his hand to himself anymore, one fisting in my hair and the other one magically being big enough to reach my shoulder, keeping my hands on him.

His moaning and groaning got louder and louder, and soon he pulled me of of him, bringing his lips to mine.

"If you don't stop now, I'm going to cum and all of this will be over way too soon."

I smiled at him, feeling comfortable, warm, but most of all, hot and bothered.

Shawn, once again, flipped both of us over, and took my panties off in one swift motion.

He thumbed my slit lightly, making my whole body ache.

"So soaked for me," Shawn muttered, finding my clit, drawing small circles on it.

"Shawnn," I couldn't stop the moan from leaving my lips.

"Yeah babe? Feel good?"

"Don't stop." I panted, breaths getting louder as aside from his thumb on my clit, he also added two fingers inside me without trouble, finding that one spot inside me that made me keen into him.

My legs twitched, and I tried to close them, but he wouldn't let me, pushing his broad shoulders between them, keeping me spread open right in front of his face.

"C'mon, cum for me." The roughness of his voice brought me closer to the edge, and I could almost feel myself falling over.

"Give it to me, señorita." His lips latched onto my clit, sucking it into his mouth, making slurping noises in sync with my pants and moans as my orgasm hit.

Shawn fingered me through it, and only stopped when I pushed his head away because I was getting too sensitive.

"Was that good?" He asked me, nuzzling his nose into my cheek.

"It was perfect, baby."

"D'you wanna continue?"

"Yeah, just gimme a second."

We lay together on the bed, sometimes meeting each other's eyes, and laughing or giggling for no apparent reason.

When I realized I'd been looking at him for quite a while, and was kind of pent up again. I rolled over, climbing on top of him, and his eyes darkened again as I grinded my pussy on his cock, his hands finding my hips and guiding my movements.

"Baby, do you want me to- Do I need to use a condom?"

"Are you clean?"

He leaned up, making sure to look in my eyes and cupping my jaw. "Yes. I haven't been with anyone else. Have you?"

"No. Only you."

He grinned, eyes twinkling. "My girl."

His hand placed themselves on your hips, moving on top of you, and placing one hand on the base of his cock.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

He slowly pushed in his tip, filling me out deliciously, until he bottomed out in one thrust.

Shawn gave me a couple of seconds, knowing exactly how long I needed to adjust to his length.

When after a few moments he couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out almost completely, and thrust in harshly, making both of us let out high pitched squeals.

After a couple of times, he started fucking into me harder and creating a rhythm that felt so perfect I grabbed on to his biceps and struggled to keep my eyes open.

He looked so good above me, jaw clenched, eyes focused on himself moving in and out of me, arms on either side of my head, and I couldn't help but lean forward and suck a number of hickeys onto his neck under his ear.

I pulled away, admiring my work, while he leaned back on his knees to continue rocking into me, but giving his hands the ability to travel all over my body, my sides, hips, thighs around his middle, and finally his calloused finger on my clit.

The rough sensation on my clit made my eyes close instinctively.

"Keep your eyes open sweetheart." He whispered, his breath dangerously close to my ear.  But my body wouldn't respond, I just kept rocking my hips on with his. "Open your eyes for me, señorita." Now I did, and his eyes were almost black as he looked into mine. "Look at what I'm doing to you."

My eyes casted downwards, seeing his dick slipping in and out of me, and hearing the wet, sloppy sounds increase the wetter I got.

"Shawn, feels so good," I got out.

"Yeah baby? Gonna cum for me?"

"I'm almost there. Shawn!" My body shook around him, pussy clenching so tight he had trouble moving a few seconds.

My pussy was so sensitive after two orgasms, but he just kept rubbing my clit while he drilled into be.

"Shawn, stop, I'm-"

But he came soon after that, and finally pulled out and stopped the stimulation on my sensitive parts. I expected him to drop down next to me, as he usually did, but instead he ducked down and wrapped his lips around my clit. It hurt for a second, but as he started fucking his cum back into me with his tongue, I could feel my third high approach and before I knew it, he'd thrown me over the cliff once again, and finally, finally, he stopped, fell down next to me, and pulled me into his arms.

We were both asleep in mere seconds.

***

I was woken by soft sunlight hitting my face, slowly opening my eyes. Shawn was still asleep, and I took the time to admire the Greek God laying in front of me.

However, after a while, I got way too hot and decided to get up. Shawn has always been kind of a heavy sleeper, so I figured it should be pretty safe to open the blinds.

"You're so goddamned gorgeous."

I whipped around. "You were awake?"

"Yeah. You were staring at me for quite a while. I don't mind though."

He sat up straight, but I stayed leaned against the window. "We need to talk."

"I know what you're going to ask, but I love you. I miss you. I know that that news broke us apart, but I need you in my life. I just... I want you back."

"I have no idea how we could make this work, but I love you too. Always have, always will."

"Then lets talk about that later then. Let's just enjoy each other for now."

And with those words, I walked to him, climbing into his lap, repeating part of last nights' activities, hoping we would be forever this time.

[blueeyedbesson]

Taking You: Chapter 25

25: Never Know

Series Masterlist Masterlist

"I can't believe this is the end of the tour." Daniel pouted.

"One more show tomorrow night and we all fly home to be with our families for a few days." I smiled and rested my arm on Jack's shoulder.

"I don't wanna be away from you guys after spending all this time being around you." Belle whined.

"I know. I'm gonna be stuck with Jack for longer than I planned." I smirked at looked at my brothers face. "I love you."

"Have you and Jonah figured out how you're going to tell the fans about your break up?" he asked and looked up at me.

"It's been 3 weeks & we haven't posted anything about each other. I think the fans probably know already."

"I still think you guys should address it."

"I'll talk to him about it when he gets back. In the meantime, I am going to lie down on my bunk and listen to music." I sighed and climbed into my bunk. I grabbed my phone, plugged my ear buds in and put on my playlist. I started  closing my eyes and within seconds, I was asleep.

2 hours later, I woke up and noticed my earbuds had fallen out. The music was still playing so I shut it off. Then I noticed that the bus was unusually quiet. Just as I was about to climb off my bunk and check out why it was quiet, I heard someone's voice. I decided to be quiet and pretend I was still asleep as the voice got closer.

"What am I supposed to say, mom? That I'm in love with her? That I can't stop thinking about her? That I haven't stopped thinking about her since the day I met her?" I recognized the voice as Corbyn's. I smiled when I heard everything he said. He was talking about Angel and I wondered if she knew any of this. "Abby and I broke up months ago, mom. Yeah I know you loved her. I did too." There was a pause. "Sometimes I think I still do & it's killing me." he paused again. "But she hates me, mom. Which brings me to my question earlier. How am I supposed to tell her any of that when she hates me for breaking her heart?" Another pause came, this time it was a little longer than the others. His mom must've been scolding him for what happened. "Yes mom. I fucked up. Sorry about my language but it's true. And I'm still fucking up. I'm dating Angel but I'm in love with her best friend. I'm stupid." he paused. "I gotta go mom. I love you and I'll see you in 2 days. Bye."

"Yo, Corbyn, can you check to see if Abby's still asleep?" I heard Jack shout from the front of the bus. I quickly put my ear buds back in and pretended I was asleep when Corbyn opened my curtain.

"Yeah, she's still sleeping."

"Can you wake her? We're leaving soon."

"Sure!" he shouted back and sat on the edge of my bunk. His hand went to my shoulder and he gently shook me. "Abby, wake up. Jack says we're leaving soon."

I turned over and 'paused' my music, slowly taking out my ear buds.

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know." I offered him a smile and he returned one before climbing off my bunk and holding out a hand to help me down. I took it and climbed down slowly, making sure I grabbed my phone.

Corbyn walked to the front of the bus and I followed, seeing everyone on the couches.

"Where are we going?"

"An interview. You girls said you wanted to join us." Jack smiled and everyone  stood up. Tyler lead us all out the door and we got into the van that was supposed to take us to the building where the interview was being filmed. On the way there, Corbyn and Angel got into a heated argument so I tuned them out, not wanting to hear anything that was being said.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, guess who broke up?" Angel sighed as she plopped down on the couch that Gabbie and I were on. Aubrielle and Belle were on the other couch but the sat up when Angel opened her mouth again. "Corbyn and I have officially called it quits."

"What? No. You two were so cute together." Belle pouted.

"We been having a lot of arguments recently and we felt it was better to stop it all and just be friends. We were always better that way."

"Sometimes, that's always the best choice." I smiled and thought about my recent relationship with Jonah. "I'm glad you guys are still friends though. Jonah would kill him if things were to end bad & that would honestly suck so much."

"It would. Then I'd only have one brother to annoy." Aubrielle smiled.

"I only have one to annoy." I replied.

"True, but he's cute." Gabbie giggled.

"He really is. I love the kid so much." I smiled.

"How is the friendship that you and Jonah have created?" Angel asked, changing the topic and putting her attention on me.

"I never actually thought Jonah could ever be considered as my best friend. But ever since Corbyn and I broke up, he's been so kind to me. Jonah is a great boyfriend but he's the best friend to have in a terrible sitiation."

"I love that you guys are close because of Corbyn."

"It's odd but I like it too."

"Me too."

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Eben told me something interesting earlier today." Jonah smirked as we sat in front of my laptop, preparing ourselves for the YouNow broadcast we were about to do.

"Oh really? What was that?"

"He told me that you wrote the duet you guys sang & he told me who it was about."

"That bastard. I'm gonna kill him."

"He told me you wrote it about him." he told me, making me a most choke on my drink.

"Oh, Jonah, I'm so sorry."

"It hurts a little bit but I'll be fine." he smiled and signed into his YouNow account. "For the record, I had a feeling you were still into him." he smirked and clicked on the Go Live button.

"Hey guys." I smiled. "This is probably going to be a short broadcast because we have some news to share with you."

"Jonaby is no longer a thing romantically." Jonah began. I looked at the comnents and saw most of the fans freaking out. "But we're still friends."

"Yup. Best friends actually."

"We thought it'd be better this way & I'm glad we made this decision because I love her so much & I'd cry if i knew I hurt her and made her walk out of my life."

"Which he didn't. It was a mutual break up and it's made us both realize that we're happier with just being friends."

"So, please don't put the blame on Abby. She did nothing wrong and does not need everyone stressing her out right now. She's a human being who has feelings so again, please don't hate on her."

"We love you all so much & it's going to be hard for us if you can't find it in your hearts to support our decision."

"As always, I love you guys & I'll talk to you soon." Jonah said his goodbyes and ended the broadcast. "I hope they don't blame you now."

"Same. Thanks." I smiled.

"Anytime, dude." he returned the smile and looked down at his phone, as did I. It was silent for a few minutes before either one of us spoke.

"Hey, Jo?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Ab?"

"Have you noticed anything weird between Corbyn and Angel lately?"

"Well, they broke up & told me it was because they kept arguing."

"Exactly. That's what Angel told us too. But, they were never left alone together. There was always someone with them. If there was arguments, one of us would've either heard it or seen it."

"Are you saying they made up the argument thing?"

"Yeah. Or that they made up the whole relationship so they wouldn't feel the pressure of the relationships around them."

"Hmm...that's a good point. Now I wonder if they were ever really together."

"Yeah. Me too." I sighed and thought about what I heard Corbyn say to his mom on the phone. Was it true? What if Corbyn knew I was actually awake the whole time & just said that stuff because he knew I was listening? A part of me really wants to tell Jonah but what if I'm wrong? I'd have to talk to Corbyn first & I don't think I'm in the right state of mind to do so. What am I going to do?

Liked by jackaverymusic, islastanford, darrinstanford and 282,976 others

abbyavery: quality time @ home with my 2 faves i love these 2 more than anything @islastanford @jackaverymusic

islastanford: i love you so much abby ❤️ jackaverymusic: @islastanford not as much as i love her 😉 islastanford: @jackaverymusic you're a liar abbyavery: @islastanford @jackaverymusic guys, can't you both just love me equally? 😉 islastanford: @abbyavery okay. love you  ❤️ jackaverymusic: @abbyavery  love you ❤️ fanuser03: this family's bond is literally stronger than anything & i love it so much imreeseherron: come visit as soon as possible. i miss you guys abbyavery: @imreeseherron we're coming by tomorrow, i promise 😁

Tags:   @ijustreallylovethem​ @samithepixie​ @averysgarl​ @jackaverybabe​ @trustfundshawn​ @lovableherron​ @beautybesson​ @jackaverx​ @scenteddanielseavey​ @beccagraceseavey​ @dolantwinmagconwhydontwestan-de​ @lilah-or-lily​ @dailydoseofherron​ @hales-a-bells @obsessedlittleangel-deactivated​ @zaddydaniel​ @brizzebesson​ @ramenavery@splendidseavey@smilingseavey@ilovejackavery@polaroidseavey @poutyavery @loveherron23 @sleepybesson

[tonystarktogo]

Tiny Tony Overlord Part 8

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Read on AO3

Betaed by the amazing @folklejend. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Summary: In which Clint is frustrated, Natasha is frustrated, Steve is very frustrated, and the three of them handle it as well as you’d expect them to, Jarvis is sarcastic, and Tony wants to take things slow for the first time in his life.

Please enjoy :)

Chapter 8: Restlessness

.Avengers Tower, New York.

Cap’s training. Again. If you can call systematically destroying their private gym “training,” that is. Clint winces as he watches yet another reinforced punching bag sail through the air and hit the wall with a loud snap. At this rate, they’ll be running out of bags for Steve to demolish before the week is over.

Suffice to say, Steve hadn’t taken the disappearance of one of his team mates well. Clint has a suspicion that the whole situation hits a little too close to home. It hasn’t been long since Cap’s lost his entire team—to old age and a certain train none of them talk about—or at least, it hasn’t been long for him. Not that Clint is stupid enough to say something, but he knows Natasha suspects the same.

It’s why neither of them has breathed a word to Steve about it. That, and the fact that even Clint, who likes to think of himself as fairly level, is about ready to join the guy.

To say that their search has been fruitless would be an understatement. And there’s nothing more frustrating than hitting a wall in the middle of a mission. Especially when a man’s—Tony’s—life may well depend on it. Clint knows the statistics as well as any field agent. It’s true that the first twenty-four hours of a kidnapping are the most important; they set the tone for the investigation—and finding the victim after becomes increasingly unlikely.

Of course, they aren’t talking about just anyone. They’re talking about Tony Stark, who blew his way out of a freaking cave in the desert. It’s the main reason none of them are willing to give up. That, and in their line of business, you don’t assume someone’s death. No one is dead unless you’ve gotten hard proof—and sometimes not even then.

But none of that changes the fact that they don’t have a clue about Tony’s whereabouts. And when Clint says “not a clue,” he means not a clue. As in nada. As in not a single one.

[continues under the cut]

Staring at the walls and screens covering the common living room area, at all the data they’ve amassed that still isn’t telling them a freaking thing, Clint rubs a tired hand over his eyes. He’s been going over the same security footage for the fifth time and has no results to show for.

“JARVIS?” he questions without much hope. The AI has been quiet since its creator’s disappearance, but Clint is pretty confident that it would speak up the moment it caught anything regarding Tony that they’ve missed. If there’s one thing Clint has learned after months of jumping off buildings and having Iron Man catch him without fail, it’s to trust in Tony’s creations. They’ve yet to let him down.

“I apologise, sir, no new information has come to light since you last asked two minutes and forty-seven seconds ago,” the AI responds with a sarcastic drawl that sounds disturbingly real. Clint loves it.

“I know, J-man, I know, sorry,” he mumbles. Clint isn’t sure exactly where the “artificial” part of the intelligence ends—knowing Tony, probably not where it should—and he doesn’t need to be a tech-whisperer to know that JARVIS is doing everything in his power to find Tony. Pressuring the guy, system, whatever, isn’t going to help anyone.

At the tip-tap sound of Nat’s high-heeled boots against the floor, Clint jerks around hopefully. Unlike himself, Natasha tends to get her best results when she’s pissed. It makes her more vicious, causes her to use sources agents with more scruples wouldn’t, makes her dig deeper until she hits a bone.

Her hair and makeup is impeccable as always, but they don’t quite cover the dark circles below her eyes, nor the tension around the corners of her lips. No success then, at least not yet.

“Alright, this is disturbing.”

“What do you mean?” The question comes from across the room, where Cap walks in, still wearing his training shorts and covered in sweat. Clint would whistle and make a crack about those abs, were he in a better mood. Right now though, all he can muster up his a shrug.

“All of this.” Clint gestures at the maps. “I mean, there is nothing here. It’s not that we don’t know how to interpret the data, it’s that there is no data to begin with. How do you kidnap anyone, let alone Tony Stark, in the middle of New York City without leaving a trace?” he exclaims. “I get Afghanistan, okay, but this is New York. Even with the electrical shortcut, there should still be something, anything, outside that radius. People don’t just disappear. We’ve got SHIELD, we’ve got the three of us, and we’ve got the best AI we know, and still we got nothing ? Nobody is that good!”

“Correction,” Natasha interrupts with a displeased frown, “nobody was that good. Doesn’t mean it’s impossible. So I suppose the question becomes, who do we know who might be capable of such a feat?”

A heavy pause—no, hesitation. Clint grimaces. When Natasha hesitates, it never means anything good.

“Or what. ” she finishes grimly.

* * * * *

.Somewhere on a tiny blot of land in between lots of small islands.

It’s surreal, Tony decides. The last two days have been nothing but surreal.

When he had thought about how his trip to the past would go, he had never imagined it would be like this. Granted, he hadn’t thought about it much at all. At the time, thinking about it had inevitably lead to excitement, to doubt, to heartbreak. Because the thought that this insane idea might actually work—it had always been a little too good to be true. Tasted a little too much of hope.

Still. Sometimes, when his mind had begun to wander, Tony remembers imagining it. No retelling of the story as it should have gone, no rewritten scenes, nothing concrete. Just… flashes. Of a general idea that had been all the more powerful for it. The thought of seeing Pepper again, her face unblemished by the attack that had cost them Happy. The faint sensory memory of being pulled into a hug by Rhodey. The warmth, the security, in fighting side by side with the deadliest people he knew—

Tony frowns. This, how it all actually went down, it’s not how he’s ever pictured it. It’s not how he would have wanted things to go. But his wants haven’t mattered in forever, and as much as Tony would like to gripe and whine, the truth is, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with running around like a headless chicken, without resources or a plan, moving further and further away from the people for whom he’s sacrificed everything. Because they’re alive. He gets to fall asleep at night, knowing they’re here, in this world, drawing breath, and that’s more than he’s had in a long a time.

“That’s all nice and well, darling, but it’s not gonna get shit done,” a sarcastic voice drawls in the back of Tony’s head. It sounds disturbingly like Vic. Damn, but he misses that woman. “How much more time are you gonna waste lounging on a bloody beach watching waves crash before you finally get your arse moving?”

And, well, imaginary voice or not, she’s got a point.

Despite his unnerving encounter with that strange old lady, the past two and a half days have been peaceful, of all things. It’s a foreign sounding description, the kind that itches because there has to be something wrong with it, you just can’t put your finger on it. It’s strange enough to freak Tony out, if he allows himself to ponder these thoughts for too long. So he doesn’t.

Really, he can’t afford to. Being on the move is all well and good—and Tony is well aware that he’s on a clock—but a race is hard to win when you don’t even know where the finishing line is. That’s never stopped Tony before, of course, but he can still be smart about it. It’s kind of his thing, being a genius and all.

“Yeah, well, all those smarts didn’t make a damn difference in the end, did they? You know, Stark, if you really were as clever as you think you are, you’d have found a way to stop this. You’d have found a way to end this.”

“I did end it!”

“Did you really? Or was there just nobody left to die in your stead?”

Tony flinches. The pain these words bring is distant, a wound that’s already scabbed over. He rubs a small hand over his forehead, a useless attempt to soothe the echo of an old hurt.

Footsteps to his right have Tony angle his body reflexively towards Dead-Eyes—an instinct he doesn’t completely understand but is slowly getting used to. Dead-Eyes is just there. A silent presence by his side that only leaves when Tony tells him to.

Should be wrong, probably. Messed up, certainly. Yet, at the same time, it’s not. It feels normal, natural even, and the more Tony gets used to all these memories, the more he understands why. Dead-Eyes is safe because Dead-Eyes is one of—perhaps even the only thing—that hasn’t changed.

“Who’s your watchdog, anyways?”

Stark blinks, follows the woman’s gaze towards the corner of the ruined farmhouse-turned-bar, where Barnes lurks. He’d call the man out on his dramatic act, except Stark is pretty sure the man doesn’t know how to do anything but lurk. It’s his natural state.

“Old friend,” he answers with a shrug.

That piques the woman’s interest, like he knew it would. “There is no such thing as friends,” she states, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Stark smirks, dares her to speak against him. “First time I met him, I tried to kill him. What better way to start a relationship?”

“You must have lots of old friends then,” the woman mutters drily. Shakes her head. Then, “What changed?”

Stark lifts his eyes from where he’s been watching Barnes glare a couple of wannabe Cleaners into submission. “Hm?”

“What happened, I don’t know, the second time you met? How did you become friends?” There’s a curiosity in the woman’s voice that’s hard to find these days. Something that goes beyond the steely determination to survive. It makes Stark hope she’ll live through this, even as his gut tells him she won’t.

“Oh, the second time?” he answers despite himself, all charm and nonchalance. “The second time I met him, he was already dead.”

Tony blinks the fake smile and honeyed sweetness away, but the scene is… sticky, like gum stubbornly clinging to your hair, and it takes him a long moment before the sight of dirty tables and war-hardened people fades into the bright hues of endless blue that surround them.

Dead-Eyes is watching him, expressionless as always. He’s wearing long, sand-coloured pants and a washed-out shirt, and despite the soft clothes and metal arm hidden under a thick bandage that Tony had spent the better part of the morning covering it with, he still looks—well. Like you’d want him on your side in a knife fight.

There’s no hiding the jagged edges when that’s all that’s left of a person, Tony thinks. Remembers thinking. Whatever.

This is exactly why he’s still here. Why he’s spent the past two days clinging to Dead-Eyes’ flesh hand, pickpocketing tourists and generally doing his best to get lost in the crowd. Why he watches little kids splashing in the water with shrieks of delight instead of breaking into the best lab he can get his hands on.

Sure, the knowledge isn’t trying to tear his head open from the inside out, and, yeah, Tony has a fairly good idea of what happened in that messed up future of his. None of that changes the fact that he got a good decade worth of memories downloaded into his brain within a couple of hours. That kind of transfer—he’d speculated about the consequences, they all had. As it turns out, Strange was right. The human mind can’t handle that kind of data input. Honestly, Tony is sort of glad the sorcerer isn’t here right now. He’d be unbearable if he knew, the bastard.

Thankfully, he was also wrong; Tony has yet to go insane from the overload. At least, he assumes he hasn’t. He’d have noticed that, right? Right.

Anyways, the closest Tony has come to describe the weird sensation of knowing-but-not is to compare it to a software update on a computer. The data is all there, but it takes the system time to sort through it and store the relevant information in the right places. And the system—it’s not dumb, it learns from its mistakes, but it still makes them. It misfiles certain data bits, can’t properly transfer some, has to change pieces, even loses some of the information. It learns, but it’s an ongoing process.

As a programmer himself, the inaccuracies rankle him a little, but computers aren’t meant to be human; the comparison is bound to fall short. That doesn’t make it useless.

So, yes, Tony remembers. He knows who he is, he knows why he is where he is, and even though he currently can’t recall what his exact mission is, he gets the general idea. Save the cheerleader, save the world, the usual.

But until the flashbacks—and that’s not quite the right word for it, but Tony can’t think of a better term—stop overwhelming him every time a new memory is triggered, he needs to remain on standby. Despite the restlessness twisting and snarling under his skin, like a second layer that wants to break through. Tony can rush many things, but he can’t rush this. He can’t rush his own mind, not when he needs all the information he has before he can make a plan.

He only has one shot at this. He’ll have to get it right on the first try.

So he’ll wait. With gritted teeth and nervously drumming fingers, but he’ll wait.

It’s a decision that goes against everything Tony believes in, but so far it has payed off. They’ve spent the past two and a half days slowly traveling from one island to the next. Always on small tour boats, mingling with other tourists. With their borrowed clothes and the meticulously placed bandages on Dead-Eyes’ arm, they don’t do too bad of a job at blending in. Tony has settled on a house fire to explain the “injuries,” as well as his “mother’s tragic death.”

Movements like these, where everything is paid in cash and two American tourists get lost in the crowd, are as good as untraceable. It’s enough to appease the restlessness, for now. And well, it’s helping. The clear sky, the see-through water, the gentle breeze. The heat and the sand under his feet that has finally stopped sending cold chills down his spine.

With every passing hour, every deep breath Tony takes, the events of the past—future—years become clearer. He recalls, with a clarity only life-changing moments hold, the desperation that fuelled him, controlled him, ever since he made it back out of that damn wormhole. The deep-seated certainty that they were on the brink of another war, one humanity was woefully unprepared to handle. The frustration and clawing fear when no one listened.

Tony had been right, but that revelation hadn’t brought him any satisfaction. Had come much too late to save the family he had already lost. They had been unprepared for Thanos’ attack, broken and scattered and divided. Of course, that hadn’t stopped them. Enemies and friends and strangers alike, they had risen to Thanos’ challenge and they had answered it the only way they knew how to: they fought.

And maybe they hadn’t won—it had never felt like a victory; too many good people had been lost to them, too many innocents had died—but they had survived. That should have been the end of it. It should have been enough.

Six months later, whilst Tony was still practicing a genuine smile in the mirror, Namibia had been razed to the ground. An entire country was wiped off the map of Earth from one moment to the next, and nobody knew how.

The timeline after that gets a bit spotty, mostly because Tony himself doesn’t know exactly how things went. Too much happened too quickly, and there weren’t enough people around studying the phenomena and collecting data for them to tell how things proceeded. But, from what he remembers, there had been health hazard warnings going out from places like Monaco, Singapore, and Macao before people had time to panic—and then they did panic.

Sand grains rub against Tony’s palms as he curls his fingers into tight fists. From the way he thinks about it, it could have been a sickness of some kind, maybe even a plague. All these words swirling around in his mind, about a cure, about infections, health and aggressive viruses—it fits.

Doesn’t mean it makes sense though. An illness that kills, a new one, maybe even biological warfare, alright. Tony can easily imagine the devastation it caused. But more than people dying, he remembers fighting, remembers living with guns and knives strapped to his every body part, remembers being covered in blood more often than not.

There is more to it than a mere virus, and yet, for some reason, the answers refuse to come. Are silenced by an impenetrable bubble that keeps parts of his newfound knowledge huddled away, beyond his reach. Tony, being Tony, prods and pushes and shoves, but so far the bubble hasn’t given an inch.

Half the time Tony thinks he should be glad for that small mercy. Maybe he doesn’t want to know how bad things had really gotten. Maybe he doesn’t want to remember all those terrible acts that tore him apart, turned him into a man capable of—

His delicate sensibilities don’t matter though. He can’t allow them to matter, can’t spare himself from whatever minefield lies hidden in his own mind. Peace and innocence are luxuries Tony can’t afford right now. Not when knowledge is the only advantage he has.

Tony reaches out and isn’t surprised in the least when Dead-Eyes meets him halfway, having already gotten used to being led around on Tony’s hand. It’s part of the cover, but Tony isn’t entirely sure Dead-Eyes realises this. Realises that hand-holding would be frowned upon if they weren’t playing a family. Actually, Tony has no clue exactly how much of the world Dead-Eyes even processes.

Dead-Eyes isn’t stupid, of that Tony has no doubt. There’s a calculating intelligence in those blue eyes, an awareness that serves as much as a weapon as everything else Dead-Eyes wields. But social norms? Human interaction? Hell, even prejudices of some sort? Tony hasn’t seen any of it, and that’s just not normal. Of course, Dead-Eyes always was the exception, wasn’t he?

“You found him,” Natasha states, an air of disbelief around her. “After all this, you finally caught up with Bucky Barnes.”

Tony turns back towards their prisoner. Stares at the man’s blank face, an eerily familiar emptiness in his eyes. Tony has seen it many times before, too often not to recognise it on first sight. And really, there is only one answer he can give her.

“No. I didn’t.”

Natasha purses her lips. “No,” she agrees. “You didn’t.” Then. “We’ll have to test him.”

Tony doesn’t even flinch. “I know.” No exceptions. It’s a rule for a reason—this they learned the hard way.

“Are you prepared to do what is needed if he fails?”

It’s a question Tony wishes Natasha hadn’t asked, though he understands why she needs to know. Guilt is a powerful motivator, and they don’t have any room for errors.

He looks her straight in the eyes when he replies. “Yes.” It’s not the first time they’re lying to each other. Or themselves, for that matter.

Tony swallows the sudden urge to throw up. An ill sensation that makes no sense, doubly so because this is hardly the worst memory he’s received. Certainly not the bloodiest.

He clings to Dead-Eyes’ flesh hand uselessly, as Vic’s voice rings mercilessly in his head. “Go on, take your time figuring out that sick, co-dependant mess you call a relationship. I’m just gonna lie here and quietly bleed out in the mud while you get your bloody act together!”

Tony can’t remember the exact fight where it happened, there were too many to tell, but he remembers Vic’s acidic words clearly because even riding the high of a battle won and covered in entrails he didn’t care to identify, they had made him snort with laughter. Vic had never done anything quietly in her life. She had also had a knack of getting her point through Tony’s thick head.

The situation is a different one now, and the truth is, there is no telling what Vic would say if she were here now, because she isn’t. Vic, wherever she is, doesn’t even know Tony. Will never have to know him, if he has anything to say about it. Will never have to kill her own mother, will never carry that wounded, shattered look in her eyes.

If he can keep that from happening, then it will be worth it. That Tony is sure of. But he’s going to be smart about this, not gonna take any unnecessary risks. No half-assed preparations and improvisation.

“Two more days,” he says out loud, even though he’s really addressing the voice inside his head that sounds so much like Vic. It’s a plea and a promise in one. “Two more days, and then I’ll start.”

He should have known that Fate would take that as a challenge.

* * * * *

Tony drags Dead-Eyes onto a small tour boat—because a whole island inhabited by iguanas sounds intriguing, and because he feels too restless to stay in the same place any longer. The boatsman is a small man with a booming voice who keeps ruffling Tony’s hair, much to his annoyance.

He would have sworn Dead-Eyes was amused by the treatment, except when he catches Dead-Eyes staring, it isn’t with the familiar smirk he half expects to see. Instead, Dead-Eyes wears a puzzled expression, a furrow between his eyebrows that says he’s struggling to work something out.

Tony decides he really doesn’t want to know. Thankfully there’s an uncomfortable sensation distracting him, like a small weight pressing gently down on the back of his neck. It’s a feeling Tony recognises from dozens of missions, that prickling knowledge dancing on his nerve endings, telling him he is being watched .

It should be ridiculous. There are only twelve other passengers on their tiny boat, none of whom carry a concealed weapon larger than a switchblade. A group of college students, half of whom are currently posing for Instagram pictures. Two pairs who look sickeningly romantic—seriously, all these forehead kisses and soft smiles are going to give Tony hives. And three older men who haven’t stopped arguing about some foreign policy since they’ve stepped onto the deck. None of them look like an assassin waiting to strike. Of course, the whole point of being an assassin is that you never look like one, so that’s a cold comfort.

Tony leans over the railing of the boat for a moment, pretending to take in the beautiful sight of an endless horizon, only occasionally disrupted by a tiny blot of land. When he turns to look at Dead-Eyes over his shoulder, he uses the position to observe everyone else. The boatsman is explaining something to one of the college students, all wild gestures and deep-throated laugh. The younger pair is making out full-time, and—there.

One of the students is standing slightly separated from her friends, gaze fixated on them. Or, well, not them, Tony realises after a moment of carefully suppressing the urge to tell Dead-Eyes to shoot now, ask questions never. She’s watching Dead-Eyes, not him.

Some of the tension in his back uncoils at the realisation. Alright, maybe he’s a little paranoid. Not that anyone can blame him—it’s not paranoia when you’ve got an entire secret spy organisation on your ass—but killing some kid for eyeing up his unfairly attractive shadow might be a slight overreaction. Even by his standards.

Despite the stress and general uneasiness though, the trip is absolutely worth it. Tony hadn’t given iguanas much thought before, but they’re so freaking cool. And loud. Who knew reptiles could make so much noise? Two of the college girls make a show of shuddering in disgust, which Tony doesn’t get at all. Iguanas aren’t slimy or glittery—they look like miniature dragons.

“I want one,” Tony breathes in reverence.

He’s watching a couple of them rhythmically wiping their heads, and he can almost hear “Highway to Hell” playing in the back of his head.

“Understood,” Dead-Eyes replies with a small incline of his head.

It’s pure luck that Tony pays enough attention to him to reach out and grab Dead-Eyes’ arm before he can jump overboard, probably to catch Tony an iguana. Awesome as that would be, it would probably get them into trouble with the local authorities.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but really, don’t,” Tony mumbles just loud enough for Dead-Eyes to hear. “It would draw attention and we really don’t need that.”

And if Tony is still humming AC/DC under his breath? Well, nobody save Dead-Eyes is gonna know—and it’s not like the guy will talk.

Tony is still humming the song half a minute later, when he suddenly realises that the rhythmic dum-dum-dum he’s been hearing in his head actually sounds more like a rumpa-rumpa-tap. And it’s not as much a part of his imagination as he would have liked.

Taking a deep breath and forcing himself to realise it with a soft swish between his teeth, Tony closes his eyes and says to no one in particular, “Please tell me I’m not hearing a chopper.”

“I’m not hearing a chopper,” Dead-Eyes repeats obediently.

“Me neither,” the blonde who’d been eying Dead-Eyes up calls out from where she’s standing near the tail of the boat. “I count three.”

I hope you like this slightly longer chapter! If you have any thoughts, questions or ideas, please leave me a comment or a message, I’d love to hear them! And merry Christmas, everybody!

[namjoonilicious]

Roommates (M)

╳ Pairing: Jimin x Reader 

╳ Genre: (one shot) smut and kinda fluff & angst ??

╳ Summary: Being roommates with your best friend can be fun until one day you look at him differently. 

(this is something that I found that I had written months ago and just decided to post it!!)

The day you looked at your best friend as more than a friend, you knew you were screwed. It happened out of nowhere. You just woke up one morning and looked at him differently. You were never going to tell anyone, you weren’t stupid. That would just lead to Jimin being freaked out and nothing being the same. Risking your friendship with Jimin was not worth the little crush you had on him.

Deciding that you couldn’t fall back asleep, you got up to start the morning. Walking into the kitchen to get some breakfast, you didn’t notice your best friend standing there.

“Holy shit! Jimin, you scared me!” You yelled, clutching your chest.

“What’s gotten you so jumpy?” Jimin asks, laughing while opening the refrigerator

You were going to answer, but you raked in Jimins appearance and saw that he was shirtless and wearing sweatpants that hung a little below his waist. You could see the slight clench in his abs as he was bending over, looking for something to eat. His brown hair falling over his eyes before he ran his fingers through it, trying to move it out of the way.  You didn’t even notice that you were practically drooling, so you quickly turned around before he could catch you ogling his body.

“Are you okay y/n?” he asks, looking concerned. He walked over next to you, grabbing a bowl and pouring some cereal into it.

“Uh yeah, yeah I’m fine” You said, trying to hide the heat that went straight to your cheeks. You needed to get it together. Jimin has been your best friend and roommate for years and you’ve never acted like this before. It’s just a little crush; you’ll be over it soon. You realized you were just trying to convince yourself at this point but you pushed that thought aside as quickly as it came.

Jimin was looking at you suspiciously but thankfully he decided to not push it further. You guys ate your breakfast in silence and went your separate ways.

All day at work all you could think about was Jimin. He didn’t leave your thoughts that whole day, leaving you stressed out and if you were being honest, wet. You couldn’t stop thinking about how good he would taste and how his lips would feel on yours. Those were the thoughts that had you wriggling on you chair uncomfortably, trying to get rid of the heat that had formed between your legs.

You finally arrived at your apartment, ready to lie down and relax. You got off work early so maybe Jimin would want to watch a movie. You needed to make it up to him for acting so weird lately. You vowed to yourself to push all your feelings for Jimin aside and focus on being his friend.

Opening the door, you looked around to see that no one was there. Did Jimin say he had to be anywhere tonight? Usually he would let you know. You walked over and set your stuff down on the counter before you made your way to your room.

As you were about to open the door you heard a voice. You thought no one was here, you wondered until you realized the sound was coming from Jimins room. Does he have someone over? If it’s Taehyung and they stay up until 4 in the morning to play video games again you were going to be pissed. You’ve spent way too many sleepless nights because of their screaming. You were now standing in front of his door, your hand on the doorknob ready to open it and tell them off until you heard the voice again.

The color drained from your face and your body froze. It was a girl. And they were not talking. She was moaning… loudly.  You told yourself to leave, to go to your room and act like this never happened but you couldn’t get your legs to move. She was louder now, obviously close to finishing but as soon as you heard Jimin moan, you almost melted on the floor. It was one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard and you could feel your underwear getting soaked. A few minutes passed of you listening to them before you realized how creepy this was. You don’t know if it was your thoughts that sent you running to your room or the fact that the door was opening.

You lay in bed, trying to push the thoughts out of your head. The thought of Jimin with another girl sent a feeling of jealously rushing through you and you hated it. Jimin brings home a girl almost every weekend and you used to joke with him and call him a fuckboy but that was before you developed feelings. Now it just felt like someone stabbed you right in the chest. You also were turned on by what you heard. You couldn’t get the sound of Jimins moans out of your head, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

After a few hours of lying there, you decided you needed to go out and face him; it had to happen sooner or later. You just hoped that the girl wasn’t out there because you don’t know if you could handle that. Grabbing your phone, you walked out of your room hesitantly, making sure that you couldn’t hear anything you shouldn’t be seeing. You walked into the living room to see Jimin lying on the couch, watching tv. He was wearing jeans and a casual top, his hair parted in the way that was your favorite.

Thankful there wasn’t a girl next to him, you sat down on the sofa across from him, trying to push the thoughts of what he just did a few hours ago away.

“There you are!” Jimin said smiling, sitting up in an up right position. “I was wondering if you had died” He joked.  

At this moment you felt like you wanted to.

“No, sadly I’m still alive” You said, half joking. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day.”

That was a lie. You knew exactly where he’d been but you didn’t want him to know that.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his face turning a light shade of pink.

“I uh was hanging out with Maddy.” He said, looking back at the tv. “In my room” he added.

“Uh huh, ‘hanging out’ I’m sure” You joked, laughing to ease some of the tension.

“We were hanging out! It was just that my dick happened to be inside her the whole time”

“Jimin!!” You yelled, covering you ears with your hands. “That is way too much information!”

He was now doubled over from laughing so hard, making you sit there and wait for him to calm down.

“You should’ve seen your face” He said in between laughs.

“Yeah hilarious” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Is someone mad that they aren’t getting any?” He said, jutting his bottom lip out in an attempt to pout.

The urge to kiss that pout was strong but thankfully so was your willpower so you just rolled your eyes.

“Who said I wasn’t getting any?” You said, getting a little defensive.

He laughed and laid his arm on the back of the sofa. “I haven’t seen you bring a guy home in months”

“What if I go over to their house?” You said, a little irritated. You were mad that he knew you haven’t had sex in months. Maybe that’s why your thoughts have been more sexual lately, you needed to get laid.

He just snorted, not believing it. “Do you tell yourself that to feel better?”

Just as you were about to respond with a smart-ass remark, your phone went off. It was a text from your best friend Andrea saying she has someone to hook you up with. You wanted to ignore it like you always do because Andrea always tries to hook you up every guy she meets, but you responded back saying that you’ll go out with him. She responded back saying that he’s free tonight since it’s Friday and can pick you up at 7. You saw that it was 6:20 so you stood up quickly, maybe too quickly since you felt light headed but you had to hurry and get ready.  You needed to get over Jimin and the only way to do that is to go out with someone else.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asked, watching you run to your room.

“On a date.” You said, walking to your closet to find something to wear.

“A date?” Jimin said, more to himself than you. He got up and followed you into your room before you stopped him.

“I have to get dressed!” You said, closing the door in his face.

“Who’s the guy?” Jimin asked behind the closed door.

“I don’t know, Andrea is hooking me up with him.” It sounded worse out loud. You’re actually going on a date with a guy you know nothing about, just to try and get over someone. How sad.

“Where are you guys going?” He asked. You swore you could hear a hint of jealously in his tone but you chose to ignore it. There is no way he’s jealous of you going out with someone.

“I have no idea,” you said slightly out of breath, trying to pull the tight red dress over your body.  “He’s coming to pick me up in less than 20 minutes”

Once the dress was on, you ran to your bathroom and did your makeup quickly. As you were doing your hair, you realized it was silent so you thought Jimin just went to his room.

As you finished everything, you slipped on your heels and opened the door to see that Jimin was still standing there, playing on his phone. He immediately looked up, his eyes lingering on your face for a second before he trailed his eyes over your body, his eyes turning a shade darker. You bit your bottom lip, not used to seeing Jimin like this. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted him. You actually stood there for a second, contemplating if going on the date was even worth it but Jimin answered that for you. He immediately backed up and mumbled something about having fun, and then went to his room and shut his door.  

Before you could think too hard about what just happened, you grabbed your purse and left.

To say the date was bad was an understatement. When he came to pick you up and you opened the door and you saw him standing there, you were a little put back by how attractive he was. You took that as a sign that it would go well but as soon as you sat down to eat dinner, it went downhill. He was a conceited douche that literally talked about himself the whole date. You don’t even think you got one word in. You were actually willing to put his personality aside just to sleep with him, but as soon as the date was over, you realized you weren’t that desperate. He tried to kiss you when he walked you to your door, but you just made an excuse about needing to feed your cat and shut the door before he would ask about coming in.  

You leaned against the wall, disappointed and frustrated about how the night went. It was currently 11 pm, and all you wanted to do was get out of this outfit and go to sleep.

“How’d it go?” Jimin asked, getting up from the sofa.

“Damnit Jimin, how do you do that?!” You shouted, wondering how long he had been on that couch.

He ignored your question and got off the sofa and started walking towards you.

“I asked how it went, y/n.” He said, his body now right in front of you. “It must’ve been bad if you’re already home.”

His chest was now lightly pressed against yours; you could feel his warm breath fan over your face and you noticed you could smell alcohol.

“It was okay.” You lied.

“You’re lying.” He said, his hand trailing up and down your arm slightly.

“Okay so what if I am?” You said, getting a little bolder. “Why does it matter anyway?”

“Because you should’ve been with me tonight.” He said, his hand that was once trailing your arm is now lightly gripping your waist.

“You’re drunk Jimin.” You said annoyed. The only reason he was even acting this way towards you is because he’s wasted. He won’t remember any of this tomorrow but you will.

“You think you can just go out with someone and leave me here?” He asked, his voice dripping with jealousy. His lips were now a centimeter away from yours and you wanted to close the gap more than anything. You were standing there, squeezing your thighs to try and get some relief when he noticed.

“I can help you with that baby.” He said,  moving his lips until they were ghosting just above your neck.

God you wanted that so much but you didn’t want it if he was drunk.

“I-I’m going to sleep. Goodnight Jimin.” You said quickly, sliding out from under him and going straight to your room.

You couldn’t believe that he did that. Alcohol has always made Jimin a lot bolder, but you’ve never seen him like that. You’ve been noticing you’ve been seeing a lot of sides of Jimin that you’ve never seen before. Ignoring the aching in your core, you got in your pajamas and went to sleep.

“You do know it’s already noon, right?” Jimin asked the next day, flicking through the tv channels.

You just rolled your eyes and sat next to him, your thighs lightly touching his.

“I’m aware of that, jackass.” You stated, leaning your head back against the sofa.

He just chuckled and continued to focus on picking a channel. So far so good you thought, realizing he didn’t remember anything that happened last night.

“By the way, Taehyung is coming over tonight”

You groaned and got up to get something to eat. “I swear Jimin, if you guys are loud I’m going to come into your room and murder you”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re always welcome into my room.” He said, throwing you a wink.

You gave a look of disgust as you turned away from him, but your cheeks were already bright red.

Later that night you were sitting on the sofa finishing some homework when there was a knock on the door. Damnit, you forgot Taehyung was coming over. You looked down and realized that you were wearing a long tshirt with no pants. The shirt was down to the middle of your thighs so you couldn’t tell anyway. Plus, you’ve known Taehyung as long as you’ve known Jimin so you were comfortable around him.

You opened the door to see Taehyung standing there, a smile plastered on his face. You couldn’t lie, Taehyung was attractive. Like, model status attractive.

“Hey Tae!” You said, opening the door wider to let him in.

“Hey beautiful” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into your shoulder.

You and Tae flirt all the time, but it’s literally just for fun. You see Tae as a big brother and he sees you as his little sister.

You heard a cough and Tae let go of you, but still stood by you with his arm around your shoulders.

Jimin was standing there, giving you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. His eyes trailed over Taehyungs arms around you and then down to what you were wearing and you could feel the anger that was radiating off of him.

“Lets go to my room.” Jimin said, nodding his head to point to the direction of his room.

“See you later babe.” Taehyung said, slightly squeezing your shoulders before walking away.

If looks could kill, you would be lying on the floor dead. Jimin looked you up and down once more before he walked away.

You sighed and flopped back on the sofa. Dealing with Jimin has been stressing you out lately, plus adding to the fact you haven’t has sex in months, it’s been a bad week to say the least.

About an hour later, you finally finished your homework. You stood up and stretched before walking to go to your room to sleep. You could  hear someone say they were going to use the bathroom and then Jimin stepped out of his room.

“How are the video games going?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“What are you wearing.” He asked, more as a statement than a question.

“A t-shirt?” You said, confused on to why he was asking you that.

He was walking towards you like he was last night, making you back up into the wall.

“You’re driving me crazy. Why did you leave me alone last night?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“You remember that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

He just laughed harshly and pushed against you until you squished between the wall and him.

“I had one beer, y/n.” he said, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. “Now you’re flaunting around in this shirt while Taehyung is here.”

You couldn’t even answer him; you just stared at his eyes, which were now almost black with lust.

“You left me alone to deal with this all by myself.” He said, pushing his hips into yours. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, his hardness pressing against your center.

You gasped; the feeling of him against you was something you’ve been craving.

He slipped his hand under your shirt and groaned. “Fuck, y/n.” He said, moving his head until his lips were pressed to your ear.  

“Do you like not wearing pants when we have a guest over?” He breathed, lightly biting on your ear lobe.

You didn’t even know what to say, you just wanted him right here and now.

You moaned and gripped onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You moved your hips, creating a rhythm that had you panting, his clothed dick moving against your core.

He moaned and grabbed onto your hips to stop you. “If you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants. I want to do that inside of you.”

You groaned and he connected his lips to yours, your tongues already tasting each other.  His hands gripped your waist tightly and you pulled on his shoulders, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

“Baby, I’ve been wanting you for so long.” He moaned, pushing his hand inside of your underwear.

“Already so wet for me” He said, wetting his lips with his tongue.

You moaned a little too loud causing Jimin to push his lips against yours as a way to silence you considering you were right outside the door where Taehyung was.

He was now inserting two fingers, pushing in and out of you at an antagonizing pace.

“Jimin” you groaned, your hands now pulling at his hair.

“I need you now.” He growled, taking his fingers out of you and pulling your underwear down in one swift motion.

He stuck his fingers in his mouth tasting you, and that sight alone almost had you come undone.

Your hands were slightly shaking in anticipation as you unbuckled his jeans, pushing them down along with his underwear until they were resting in the middle of his thighs. You were practically drooling as his erection sprang free, the tip red and dripping with precum.

“I promise next time we’ll go slower.” He said, reaching into his jean pocket to quickly slip on a condom.  

There was going to be a next time? Just hearing that got you even more excited.

He then tapped your thigh, signaling for you to jump and wrap your legs around him. You were now wrapped around him, his dick pushing against your entrance.

“But I promise next time I’m going to have all night with you.”

“Please Jimin, I need you.” You groaned, wanting nothing more than for him to fill you up.

He immediately pushed in, the feeling of your walls wrapping around him making you moan out loud.

“You sound so good” he said, pushing in and out of you.

“Oh my God Jimin” You groaned, dragging your nails against his back. You couldn’t wait for this to happen again so you could do that without clothes but for right now this would have to do.

He picked up the pace, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, letting soft moans tumble out. The feeling of him filling you up was something you’ve been craving for so long, that you could already feel the band in your lower stomach beginning to snap.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me” He said, snapping his hips into yours. “So tight and wet and only for me.” He whined, pushing deeper inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.

You couldn’t even respond back, the feeling overtaking everything. You didn’t even know if you were being quiet or not. At this point, you didn’t give a shit.

“I’ve been wanting you for so long. You think you can just walk around everyday in your tights shorts with your ass hanging out?” He said, biting your neck.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

Jimin talking dirty was something you didn’t know you needed until know. The way the words were tumbling out of his mouth was pushing you to the edge.

“I-I’m gonna cum” You said, grabbing onto his shoulders so tight you knew he was sure to see scratches the next day.

“Cum for me baby. You love that I’m fucking you out in the open, don’t you? Taehyung could walk out any minute and see me pounding into you and you would love it.” He groaned, kissing up and down your neck. “You’re taking my cock so well baby.

That’s all it took to send you over the edge, flashes of color bursting behind your eyes as he rode you through your orgasm.

“Fuck y/n” He grunted before he spilled into the condom.  

He held you for a few more seconds before he gently set you down and slipped out of you. You quickly pulled up your underwear as he was buckling his jeans. Once he was done, he looked up at you and pecked your lips once, then twice, then he was kissing all over your face.

“Jimin stop” you giggled, trying to push him away.

He just smiled and rested his forehead against yours, running his finger over your lips.

“Next time I’m going to make sure you can’t walk the next day.” He said, trying to hide the grin that was forming.

You opened your mouth in shock, but had to squeeze your thighs together to stop the aching that was already forming in your core.

“Don’t tell me you guys just fucked while I’m in this room!” Taehyung yelled behind the closed door.

Jimin just wrapped his arms around your body as both of you fell into fits of laughter.

[blt-prf]

HIM - Chapter 11 (Nevermind) | Ao3

"Jungkook?" Yoongi sleepily asks, holding his phone with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other as he looks at the time. It's too dark to see but, from the clear sky outside and the sun beginning to rise, he supposes it must be really fucking late.  

Or early, depending on the point of view.

"No, it's Yoongi. Namjoon fell asleep," he quietly says, glancing towards the bed, poorly illuminated by his computer. Namjoon shifts in his sleep. "What do you mean Jimin hasn't been home in four days?" Yoongi asks, stopping dead in his tracks. "What? He moved where? Jungkook," he then calls in a tone that's more worried than demanding. "Wait, who's gonna hate you? Tae? Why would Tae–okay, calm down."

"Who's that?" Namjoon mumbles, forcing his eyes to open, but Yoongi just blurts out a quick 'Jungkook' before gesturing for him to go back to sleep.

"Have you asked Tae?" he then asks, starting to sound less calm with every word. "Of course you two fought again," he then sighs, running a hand through his hair, as if he was expecting it even before asking.

"Who fought?" Namjoon mumbles again against his pillow. "Tae and Kook?" he throws in his best guess and Yoongi nods a bit.

"No, Seok didn't tell me anything. We... We haven't really talked," Yoongi admits, sighing again. "Yeah, we were thinking of staying in Daegu for a few more days. Yeah, just... no, we can come back, it's no big deal," Yoongi says, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the unfinished song on his computer. "He's not answering his phone either?" he asks, followed by another sigh. "Go sleep at Jin's place or something and I'll figure something out. Yeah, just go get some sleep, okay?"

"What's wrong?" Namjoon asks as he sits up straight and squints at the light coming from Yoongi's computer.

"Nothing's wrong, Joon, go back to sleep," Yoongi quietly replies, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Is Jimin okay?" Namjoon asks instead.

"I don't know," Yoongi says in a quiet voice, almost like a whisper.

"I thought Jungkook was in Busan," Namjoon then says, yawning.

"Just came back. Dropped by Jimin's place and some neighbor of his told him that Jimin hasn't been home in a while."

Namjoon just blankly stares into the distance before yawning again.

"Weird," he then comments in a way too calm voice, at least in Yoongi's opinion.

"Jungkook was freaking out," he tells Namjoon. "Went on about how Jimin moved to another city because of him and isn't coming back and–are you even listening to me?"

"I talked with Jin a few hours ago," Namjoon calmly speaks as he tries to find a more comfortable position to lay in. "He said that Jimin had helped him at the café this morning," he casually announces, followed by another yawn, "and that he dyed his hair blonde or something."

"Jin dyed his hair?" Yoongi asks, suspiciously raising an eyebrow.

"No, Jimin did," Namjoon clarifies, going silent for a while. "Nevermind, I must've dreamed everything," he then says.

"Pretty sure you did," Yoongi sighs, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.

"Where are you going? You haven't gotten any sleep," Namjoon reminds him.  

"I can't just do nothing."

"So walking around in another city, at this hour, is gonna help?" Namjoon asks, reaching for Yoongi's wrist and pulling him towards the bed. "Don't be stupid," he says and Yoongi hesitantly lets his jacket fall out of his hands.

"Joon, you should've heard him. He sounded so worried."

"So what are you going to do?" Namjoon asks and Yoongi goes silent. "Anyway, shouldn't you worry about your own problems first?" he asks and Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, closing it without letting a word out. "What's the thing about you and Hoseok not talking?"

"Nothing."

"You would've told me if it was just nothing, " Namjoon says, slightly amused. "But you didn't," he points out.

"Because I didn't wanna talk about it. Because I didn't want this to happen, and now it's happening, and I hate it.

"What'd you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything," Yoongi says, sounding defensive. "He's seeing some guy."

"The one from his dance team?" Namjoon asks but Yoongi doesn't reply. "I don't like him."

"Hoseok does."

"Just cause he's all tall and has abs," Namjoon sighs. "He never even liked guys like that." Yoongi doesn't reply. "I bet he'll dump him in less than a month," Namjoon says as he watches Yoongi stand up. "Where do you think you're going?" he asks in a warning tone.

"Let me at least save the changes," Yoongi mumbles as he saves another copy of the song on his computer. "It sounds better with your voice at the end," he then quietly adds, as if embarrassed to say it out loud.  

"I told you," Namjoon yawns again, "give that one line at the end to Hoseok and it's done." Yoongi bites his lower lip as he thinks of it. "Have you let Jimin listen to it?" he then asks and Yoongi shakes his head in response.

"Not until it's finished," he says-the usual perfectionist. "But he seemed to like the title," he says with a faint smile. Silence then settles in.

"I'm sure he's fine and Jungkook's just overreacting," Namjoon says. Yoongi hopes he's right.

"Jimin seems to have this tendency of disappearing whenever things get too much," he remembers Taehyung telling him one night.  

"Where does he go?" Yoongi had asked.

"Don't know," Taehyung admitted. "Anywhere he can be alone. He just leaves without a word because he's convinced that, if he's far away, his problems won't be able to follow."

"I'm like that too," Yoongi then said and Taehyung smiled a bit, nodding. He always thought the two of them were pretty similar.

"But when you're angry, you snap at everyone," Taehyung said, "he just goes quiet until he can't take it anymore, and then he bursts. And it kinda sucks, you know? Cause I'm his best friend and he should talk to me, but he never does."

Yoongi wonders how Namjoon can drift back to sleep almost immediately like that. He overthinks until exhaustion gets the best of him and he falls asleep without even realizing it.

Jungkook collapses on his bed as soon as he steps into his room, shoes still on and luggage forgotten somewhere at the entrance. He glances at the time once, twice, and then closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

He's not sure how much time has passed when he gets out of the shower, but he makes up his mind and gets himself presentable in case Taehyung’s parents are home. And, as he's about to close the door, he turns back to grabs his skateboard-in case Taehyung’s just as bored as he is, he tells himself, or in case he's down because Jimin left. Down might be an understatement, actually, and Jungkook might be the last person Taehyung would want to see at the moment, but he'll think about it later.

His mind is too cloudy for him to realize that he's already reached Taehyung's house until he has to abruptly break in order to avoid flying his skateboard into a trash bin which, Jungkook swears, appeared in front of him out of nowhere. He stops in front of the way too familiar door he's never felt so much anxiety standing in front of before. Long minutes of hesitation later he rings the doorbell, his heart pacing up at the sound of light sound of steps getting closer to it because what if Taehyung's still mad about the whole conversation they had at Jimin's place? Jungkook didn't even properly say goodbye to him back then and Taehyung didn't text him once ever since. Countless thoughts flood his mind, mostly about Jimin and about the last time they spoke over text, back when Taehyung was apparently waking up all of his neighbors with his ridiculous song, about Jimin's picture that Jungkook stared too long at for it to be meaningless and about how Jungkook never really got himself to ask Jimin whether he was fine or not, whether he was at home or at someone else's place, or wondering on some unknown streets and whether or not he was leaving. And part of that was because, deeply inside, Jungkook thought that Jimin would've stayed.  

Hoped he would've stayed.  

Maybe he would have if Jungkook had treated him better. If he mattered enough, he would've definitely convinced Jimin to at least think about it twice. And if he accepted Hoseok's stupid offer from the very start and got Jimin's number, he would have properly gotten to know him, and maybe they'd be friends now.  

And then, if only Jungkook had admitted that he was starting to like Jimin, maybe things would be different now.

If even one of these things went otherwise, he wouldn't be in front of Taehyung's door now, apologies ready to spill because, deeply inside, he knows it's his fault too.

"Oh, when'd you get back?"

The question startles Jungkook at first, forcing him to wake up to reality and react.

"A few hours ago," he answers after long seconds of silence and confusion, part of it because he's not sure how much time passed ever since he got home and another part because he has to remind himself to breathe again, because Jimin is right there, in front of him, breathing and smiling and making Jungkook feel a lot of things all at once. And Jungkook doesn't know whether he's relieved, or happy, or confused, or all at once, but it's just a lot.

"Tae's taking a shower," Jimin says, oblivious to it all as he motions for him to get inside. Jungkook still struggles to process everything in his mind, which proves to be really hard because Jimin's constantly running his hand through his hair, brushing blonde strands away from his eyes, and the red ripped shirt Jungkook recognizes as Taehyung’s keeps falling off his shoulder, and it's more distracting than Jungkook would like to admit. “He should get out soon though. He's been in there forever and I was getting bored to death," Jimin then says, pouting a bit and making Jungkook smile because the Jimin he remembers couldn't shut up about how busy he always was.

"You've been staying here?" he finally gets himself to ask and Jimin nods happily in response. Jungkook doesn't know why he smiles in response when everything he wants to do is curse because of what Jimin made him go through.

"Tae's parents are away on a trip so he convinced me to stay here for a few days," he says, opening the door to Taehyung’s room where Jungkook recognizes a few of Jimin’s things lying around. The latter then picks up his glasses from Taehyung's nightstand and puts them on, sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking at Jungkook with big and innocent eyes.  

"Could've told me?" Jungkook suggests, although part of him knows that he has no right to demand it. "Or replied to my texts."

"I kind of forget to look at my phone when I'm with Tae," he says, and Jungkook laughs in disbelief.  

"For three days?" he asks but Jimin just guiltily smiles back. "You must really like making people worried," he then mumbles, mostly to himself.

"Aw, you were worried," Jimin coos. "Missed me that much?" he then asks, and Jungkook doesn't know whether the tone of his voice is hopeful or cocky, or whatever, because the mere sight of Jimin right now it a lot to take in.

"Yeah, keep believing that," he laughs.

"You could've given me a call. You have my number for a reason, y'know?" Jimin laughs a bit, ignoring Jungkook's 'you always put it on airplane mode' to go on with his rambling. "You know, other than asking me how to get grass stains off your white tees at 3am-"

“That was one time.”

“-or sending me ugly pics of you whenever I leave for work?”

“It's not my fault that you wake up when I enter my first REM cycle," Jungkook scoffs. "You’ve never complained about my ugly pics before.”

“Blackmail material,” Jimin explains. “Even if you only take them cause you know you’re hot.”

“You just called me hot,” Jungkook points out.

“Unintentionally. Shut up.”

“Didn’t know you’d miss my face that much,” Jungkook teases this time and Jimin rolls his eyes.  

"You're the one who was worried. And you're the one who used to have a crush on this face,” Jimin says, pointing at himself.

“I thought we agreed not to bring that up again?"

“Yeah, whatever,” Jimin says, a smile still lingering on his face and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off it. It takes him a while to realize that looking that way and for that long at someone he supposedly hates isn't socially acceptable unless he has a valid reason for it. So when Jimin catches him staring-he lost count of how many times it's happened already-and innocently asks "do I have something on my face?" Jungkook finds himself shaking his head and blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I was finally starting to get used to your black hair."

"Could've just lied and told me I looked nice," Jimin sighs, wondering why he was expecting something else from Jungkook in the first place.

"Eh...I guess," Jungkook says in a nonchalant way, like he doesn't have to remind himself to breathe every twenty seconds. "I mean, you had plenty of other choices-"

"I'll never dye it red again, get over it, Jungkook," Jimin immediately clarifies.

"Won't even consider it?" Jungkook asks in a hopeful tone.

"It seriously looks that bad?" Jimin asks, laughing a bit, and Jungkook hates that type of laugh because everything he wants right now is to tell Jimin that he looks breathtaking–even more than usual-and that his hair is fine, and that he is fine, and okay Jungkook's mind is going places and maybe he should stop before he blurts out something stupid again. "Tae says he likes it but I'm starting to suspect that he just doesn't want to hurt my feelings," Jimin laughs again, spotting a beanie of Taehyung's near him and reaching for it. "Better?" he asks after pushing his hair back and putting it on.

"It's three hundred degrees outside, take it off," Jungkook says, and Jimin reluctantly does as told, messy strands of hair now falling over his eyes. "It suits you," Jungkook then quietly says, wondering why it sounds as if it's supposed to be a secret.

"What's that? A compliment from Jeon Jungkook himself?" Jimin asks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Shocking, right?"

"You hardly ever say things like this," Jimin points out, "and you're saying them to me."

"It really suits you."

"Stop it," Jimin laughs. "I can't get used to you like this."

"You look good," Jungkook purposefully says with a smile.

"Stop it," Jimin repeats, throwing the beanie at him.

"Give me a few days to get used to it and I might like it more than the red," Jungkook blurts out and Jimin breaks into one of those smiles that has his eyes almost fully closed.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" Jimin asks.

"Want me to go back to how I was when we first met?"

"No," Jimin quickly replies, soon breaking into another smile. "Busan air does weird things to you. You should leave more often," he jokes. "Actually, don't. Tae gets really lonely without you," he then says and the conversation falls into silence. Jungkook tears his gaze away from Jimin's face to guiltily stare at his own hands. "He said you two had a fight,” Jimin hesitantly says after a while. “Didn’t actually say it but I figured out.”

"We just don't agree with each other's love choices," Jungkook says, remembering the last time they talked.

"What if he falls for you?" Taehyung had asked at the time, sounding terrified.

“Talk to him," Jimin says. "He's been sulking ever since you left. And then I fought with him too and worsened everything," he adds, words trailing off towards the end.

"Why'd you fight?" Jungkook asks and Jimin hesitates a bit before speaking.

"It's just how things go when you live together for a long time. You can't always get along," he laughs a bit and Jungkook wonders if he lived with Taehyung before, for long enough to say that. "You knew about it?" Jimin quietly asks after a while. "That he was just messing around with some guy while I was going crazy worrying about him?"

"Figured out later," Jungkook confesses and Jimin lets out a deep breath.

"I'm an idiot," he mumbles. "I'm such an idiot. Canceled everything last minute and even accepted to come stay with him, and I didn't even have a reason for being worried in the first place."

"Canceled what?" Jungkook hesitantly asks and Jimin realizes what he just said.

"Nothing," he mumbles, trying to brush it off.

"I know you were going to leave," Jungkook blurts out and he should really learn how to shut up before It's too late, although Jimin doesn't seem surprised, Jungkook notices, which is weird. What's even weirder is that Jimin averts his gaze, pressing his lips into a tight smile before speaking.

“Knew you weren't just being nice to me without a reason.”

“That's not why-” Jungkook quickly replies but Jimin doesn’t look like he believes him. “Okay, maybe,” Jungkook then quietly confesses and Jimin laughs a bit. Yes, Jungkook felt guilty and tried to make up for it by being unusually kind to Jimin. No, it didn't exactly work, but at least Jimin's still here, right? That's all that matters now. The fact that Jimin most definitely thinks that Jungkook is a complete idiot, selfish and pathetic on top of that now is something he'll have to deal with later.

“So you’re gonna go back to being an asshole now that I’m staying?”

“You’re staying?” Jungkook asks, a bit quicker than he intended.

“Disappointed?” Jimin simply asks back.

“Relieved,” Jungkook blurts out and Jimin stares at him in silence.

"Don't tell Tae," he silently begs.

"That you were gonna leave again without a word?" Jungkook asks and Jimin starts fidgetting with the hem of his shirt. "Jimin..." Jungkook sighs, "that's not how it works. You gotta talk to him."

"You say that but you haven't texted him in two weeks," Jimin mutters back.

"I was away," Jungkook blurts out as the best excuse he can find.  

"If he wasn't so down about fighting with you I wouldn't have come here in the first place," Jimin then says.

"So it's my fault?" Jungkook asks, smiling a bit.

"It will be if I end up regretting staying," Jimin replies.  

"Are you regretting it right now?" Jungkook asks, not really wanting to hear a reply.

Before any of them can say anything else, Taehyung opens the door, hair dripping on the towel around his shoulders and a bowl of cereals in his hand. Jungkook has time to notice this much before said towel is flying towards his face.

“Missed you too,” he says with a smirk, expression immediately changing into one of annoyment when he feels Taehyung's weight on top of him. “You’re dripping on my shirt, get off.”

“Shh,” Taehyung simply says, hugging him tighter. Jimin just laughs next to them, apparently enjoying Jungkook’s suffering.

“Seriously, Tae,” Jungkook laughs too now, voice sounding gentler, “you’re crushing m–don’t you fucking dare tickle me!”

“I can’t win with my strength and this is your only weakness,” Taehyung complains as he retreats, pouting a bit.

"Put something on,” Jungkook says, menacing tone changed to a sweeter one. "I can’t take you seriously like this."

“Jealous?” Taehyung asks as he turns around to face him, patting his tummy a few times. Jungkook laughs incredulously.  

“A bit,” he says, making Taehyung smile widely.  

"It's too hot," Taehyung whines, ruffling his hair a bit.

"That's why you were taking a shower at fuck you o'clock?" Jungkook asks, amused. "Didn't even think I'd find you awake at this hour."

"Got up early," Taehyung replies. Jungkook just raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "Okay, Jimin locked himself in my room and refused to let me in," Taehyung confesses with a sigh.  

"It wasn't even locked," Jimin quietly protests, fixing his glasses with a finger.  

"You're just really scary when you're angry and I didn't wanna come in," Taehyung corrects himself.

"Whose fault is it that I'm angry?" Jimin asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

"And whose fault is it that you can't tell a bruise from a hickey apart?" Taehyung asks back.

"Do you know how worried I was?" Jimin asks, exasperation in his voice.  

"There are worse things in the word other than me getting laid, Jimin."

"I thought someone had hurt you!"

"Well, shouldn't you be happy that you were wrong then?" Jimin just lets out a frustrated groan at the words and pushes himself up, walking towards the door. "You know, you could talk to me instead of getting pissed and leaving every time," Taehyung says, but Jimin just slams the door closed in response.

"You're just gonna let him leave like that?" Jungkook asks, slightly confused about the whole situation.

"It's fine," Taehyung mumbles, taking a spoon of cereal. "He's not going anywhere barefoot," he says, pointing at Jimin's shoes.

"Want me to talk to him?" Jungkook asks after a while, but Taehyung just laughs a bit in response.

"And tell him what?" he asks, mouth still full. "To be a decent fucking friend and talk to me?" he says, smiling a bit to himself, and Jungkook knows that it's not a genuine type of smile. "Or play the hero and get him to fall for your irresistible face and decent personality?" he asks in a quieter voice.

"You're still mad about that?" Jungkook asks, not really knowing why because the answer's obvious.

"Just disappointed you'd do something like that to piss me off. Or prove a point. Or both," Taehyung sighs. "I don't know what's going in your head."

"What if I told you that it has nothing to do with you?" Jungkook hesitantly asks.

"Then you're doing it to get over Yugyeom and Jimin's the easiest to target because he'll just fall for anyone who's nice to him?" Taehyung asks and Jungkook just stares back at him in disbelief because how can it even cross his mind? "Stop messing around before it's too late. We both it's gonna end up with you getting scared when it all gets too serious," he blurts out and Jungkook goes silent. Taehyung doesn't know why he says something so stupid, but he supposes that part of it is the summer heat and all that build up stress that doesn't seem to go away even though school's over, and another part is knowing both Jimin and Jungkook too well, and knowing that he has every reason to worry. "Go talk to him, or whatever," Taehyung then sighs, slumping down into the bed and picking up his phone to focus his attention elsewhere. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."

Jungkook wishes he cared.

He finds Jimin outside, sitting on the doorsteps with one hand buried in his hair and gaze stuck on his feet. They don't speak, but Jungkook quietly sits next to him and reaches inside the pocket of his jacket, silently extending one arm. The act is way too familiar to Jimin, and it doesn't take him long to recognize the cigarette brand. Just one will be no big deal, he tells himself, taking the pack and opening it with impatience only to find out that it's empty.

"I hate you," he breathes out, throwing it back at an amused Jungkook, aiming more at his face than at his hands.

"I can't believe you were gonna start smoking again because of a stupid fight."

"Shut up," Jimin mutters. "Why do you even carry an empty pack around?" he asks, sounding irritated.

"Cause I smoked my last one the night at the pool," Jungkook says and Jimin looks both proud and annoyed. "And you carry a lighter around although you quit a long time ago, so you're in no position to ask that," Jungkook adds before Jimin can even think of saying something.

"This isn't about me."

"Everything's about you."

"Shut up."

"Don't wanna," Jungkook says with an annoying smile. "Get inside."

"Don't wanna," Jimin childishly repeats, imitating his voice.

"You know that I'm stronger than you, right?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Jimin asks, oblivious.

"You can either calmly walk inside, on your own two feet, or be dragged in there by force," Jungkook explains with a smile.

"You wouldn't," Jimin laughs and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in response because is Jimin challenging him?

"Jimin has something to tell you," Jungkook announces and Taehyung just stares back unimpressed as Jimin dangles off his shoulder.

"I don't," he says, voice muffled by Jungkook's jacket.

"Yes, you do," Jungkook decides, effortlessly putting him down.

"Your best friend is an idiot," Jimin says in a serious tone while accusingly pointing at Jungkook.

"He throws me around when I make him angry," Taehyung says, already used to it, and Jimin turns around to glare at Jungkook.

“Talk to him,” the latter simply says, nudging Jimin with his elbow before leaning on the door frame. "You too," he then says, pointing at Taehyung with his gaze. "I'm not leaving until you sort things out."

"This is dumb," Jimin feels the need to comment. Jungkook simply shrugs.

"I'm desperate."

“You first,” Taehyung decides when he realizes that Jungkook is completely serious and has no intention of leaving, and Jimin hesitantly walks to the bed, sitting cross legged on the edge of it to face Taehyung and nervously swinging from side to side. He takes a quick glance at Jungkook, who has both earphones in and is busy scrolling through his playlist before sighing loudly.

"Remember when I moved here and you were really mad?" he asks, bursting out laughing when Taehyung glares at him. "Okay, let me start again. Remember when I moved here and told you that I wouldn't have stayed for long?" he asks this time and Taehyung nods a bit, swallowing hard. "I was supposed to take care of some legal stuff, since I was 18 and all, and dad couldn't take care of it in my place," Jimin quietly carries on. "Also kind of wanted to sort things out with you, so I said I'd move here and wait until it was all over and go to school in the meantime, since it was gonna take a while," Jimin says, words slowly getting quieter. "And dad said transferring schools wouldn't have been a problem because he'd take care of it all, and then...everything got solved quicker than I thought..."

"He told you to go back to Busan?" Taehyung asks when Jimin goes silent, getting a small nod in response. He lets out some sort of understanding hum but Jimin knows how hurt he must me by the words. "All of a sudden?"

"Last month," Jimin confesses and Taehyung lets out an 'ah...' that sounds both disappointed and understanding.

"You're gonna go back to the Academy or move to another school?" he then asks, trying to seem composed.

"I'm not going anywhere, dumbass. I'm staying," Jimin confesses.  

"Why?" Taehyung asks confused.

"I like it here."

"You don't."

Jimin stays quiet for a while.

"I have you here," he then says, "and Hobi. And everyone else. So it's fine," Jimin assures him.

"What if you're gonna regret it?" Taehyung asks and Jimin shrugs a bit.

"I thought about it a lot, you know?" Jimin confesses. "I kept thinking over and over and then...the night at the pool..."

"Changed your mind?" Taehyung asks and, when Jimin nods in response, he can't help but break into the cutest rectangular grin. "You love us," he says, ignoring Jimin's muffled 'shut up' which later becomes 'get off' when Taehyung hugs him. Jungkook smiles a bit at the scene before going back to his phone.

"I didn't know you were worried about me," Taehyung guiltily confesses after a while.

"It's my fault. I should've talked to you about it instead of assuming..." Jimin replies.

"But, in my defense," Taehyung says, brightly showing Jimin his hand and the almost unnoticeable bruises on his knuckles, "I did fall off my skateboard."

"Because you're terrible at it," Jungkook singsongs from the opposite side of the room.

"Hey, I thought you were listening to music," Taehyung accusingly says.

"The song just ended," Jungkook replies, beginning to mouth what Taehyung supposes are the lyrics of the new song.

"Tell me if you're struggling," Taehyung says, facing Jimin again and pouting a bit as he speaks. "Just stop doing things on your own like you're supposed to go through it all alone."

"Look who's talking," Jimin laughs, "you always make everyone worry over you."  

"That's just you."

“Jungkook thinks so too,” Jimin protests. “He always says that the hardest thing for him is seeing you all struggle.”

"Do you know what I'm struggling the most with right now?" Taehyung then asks. "That the seven of us can't get along. We keep having fights over insignificant stuff", Taehyung says, "like, Hoseok and Yoongi. And then you and Jungkook."

"We get along now," Jimin says.

"Yeah, sure," Taehyung quietly comments, laughing a bit.

"Why does everyone think that we hate each other?" Jimin then groans in frustration. "We don't," he clarifies and Taehyung just raises an eyebrow at the statement. "We talked about it," Jimin confesses. "Kind of. I was busy trying not to throw up, but we talked about it," he then admits, but Taehyung's still trying to figure out whether it's a joke or not. Before he can ask, Jimin grabs his beanie-Taehyung wonders why it was on the floor in the first place-and throws it at Jungkook, successfully making him look up with a death glare.

"What?" he asks, visibly annoyed as he takes one earphone out.

"Tell him that we're friends now," Jimin demands.

"If you suddenly caught fire and I had water-" Jungkook starts.

"You'd put the fire out with your tears because the thought of living without me is too painful," Jimin interrupts him, turning to Taehyung before Jungkook can say something else. "See? We get along just fine," he says, smiling widely.

In the next few days, Taehyung realizes that Jimin was completely serious. Worry starts to creep up inside of him when he realizes that Jungkook might have been, too.

"You should change his contact name already," Jungkook quietly says when he accidentally glances at Taehyung's phone. "I thought you had deleted his number."

"I did," Taehyung quietly admits. Jungkook wants to ask whether he knew it by heart but stops himself. Taehyung wouldn't even bother to tell the truth, he thinks, not with Jimin in the same room. "Tae..." Jungkook groans as his phone thankfully lands on a pillow that fell on the floor earlier. "How many times do I have to tell you... You're gonna break me one day."

"Tae..." Jungkook groans as his phone thankfully lands on a pillow that fell on the floor earlier. "How many times do I have to tell you... You're gonna break me one day."

"I'm not that heavy," Taehyung protests, wrapping his arms around Jungkook's waist, further crushing him.  

"You are," Jungkook groans again, trying in vain to turn around under Taehyung's weight.  

"That's not what you say when you throw me around," Taehyung says, getting up with a defeated sigh. "When's Hoseok getting here? I'm bored," he whines, lazily looking around the room for something to do. "Let's teach Jimin how to skateboard," he then blurts out.

"I know how to already," Jimin protests.

"Barely," Taehyung mumbles.

"I'm better than you," Jimin confidently says.

"There's only one way to find out," Jungkook happily exclaims as he jumps on his feet and expectantly looks at Jimin.

"But it's raining," Jimin groans.

"It's barely drizzling," Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. "And unless you send my skateboard into every single puddle you can find, like someone did last year," Jungkook says, giving Taehyung the look, "it should be fine."

"I bought you a new one," Taehyung guiltily mumbles as Jimin sighs deeply on the bed.

"You can calmly walk on your feet," Jungkook tells him, smiling mischievously, "or..."

"I'll walk, thank you very much," Jimin says, pushing himself up.

If Jungkook had to pinpoint the exact moment it all began, it would probably be this one, or maybe when he admitted that he didn’t want Jimin to leave, or maybe even earlier, when he was disappointed at the thought that Jimin had left already.  

Yoongi disagrees, always does, by saying that Jungkook’s madness started a long way ago, before all the teasing and all the “fated encounters”, as Namjoon calls them, since back when Jimin transferred.  

“This city’s fucking tiny and we go to the same school, of course we’d bump into each other the whole time,” Jungkook always protests.

“That, or it could be fate,” Namjoon says as he flips another page of the book Taehyung took with him but didn't actually get to open.

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook laughs. “Like 'hey, I thirst followed you and we accidentally met in real life’ type of fate.”

“More like 'hey, I used to pretend that I had a crush on you to make Tae angry but now that I met you in real life I definitely do’ type of fate.”

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Okay,” Namjoon easily gives up.

“I said I didn’t,” Jungkook insists.

"Are you trying to convince us or yourself?" Namjoon asks.

“Maybe if he repeats that enough times, it’ll come true,” Seokjin laughs and Jungkook glares at him. "Come on, Jungkook, it went from you wanting to punch him whenever he breathed to you teaching him how to skateboard. That's pretty drastic."

"You hate it when people touch your skateboard," Namjoon feels the need to point out. "So, not to jump to conclusions, but that must mean something."

"You're just both acting weird," Yoongi mumbles before Jungkook can even open his mouth to protest. Yoongi knows he was going to protest. "Ever since you started hanging out for the stupid dance competition. At night," Yoongi then stresses. "Without telling us a thing. And then took the blame for him."

"That's-" Jungkook starts.

"Does Jimin even know about it?" Yoongi suddenly wonders.  

"Even before that," Namjoon disagrees before Jungkook can reply, "when you skipped classes with ridiculous excuses and accidentally met him on the roof for God knows what reasons," Namjoon says, sounding unsure about the "accidentally" part.  

Jungkook's glad neither of them know about his-horrible-dates at the restaurant, and simply sighs in response. Deep inside, if he really had to pinpoint the exact moment everything started, he knows it would be way before Jimin transferred, way before he started appearing on magazine covers and advertising ads and way before Jungkook started seeing him on every single social network imaginable. Namjoon often talks about the Butterfly effect, and Jungkook often thinks about it. He knows that the cause of the hurricane that is Jimin started way before all of that and, if he had to mark it on a map, it would probably be in LA, back when he didn't even know who Jimin was, because Jungkook wasn't even sure he liked dancing at the time. If only he had quit back then, as he intended to before his roommate at the time did everything in order to convince him not to, maybe this all wouldn't be happening right now. Or maybe Jungkook's tiny butterfly flapped its fragile wings even earlier, maybe in another place-maybe in Busan, during his (their) entrance exam at the Academy, but Jungkook's not sure about it because he barely has any memories left of that day. And now that he thinks of it, maybe Namjoon's right whenever he says that people tend to remove painful memories-not like Jungkook ever doubted him-because he's sure he would've remembered seeing Jimin that day if he wasn't so busy being miserable for not getting accepted and making plans of going far, far away. He was convinced that a flight to LA would've helped him find happiness. He didn't know that by leaving everything behind he had also left that part of him that loved dancing more than everything else. 

"Remember when I was in LA and called you crying one night because I wanted to quit dancing?" Jungkook quietly asks. 

"I pulled and all nighter while trying to convince you that it was a stupid decision," Namjoon says, smiling a bit.  

"And you couldn't," Jungkook mumbles. He had booked a flight to Korea the next day. 

"Because you changed your mind later and didn't need me to convince you anymore," Namjoon says. "Why are you asking?"

"No reason," Jungkook lies. "It's just that you're always right," he then quietly says, being honest this time. "About everything. You're always right in the end."

Namjoon just smiles widely at that and Jungkook thinks that maybe he'll tell him the truth one day. About him and Jimin, and how it all started even before Jungkook could decide whether or not he wanted him to be part of his life.

Namjoon's gaze is now fixed on the pages of the book he's holding, analyzing some impressionist painting that's rather hard to decipher even for Jungkook. Yoongi’s too busy fumbling through his camera settings to notice Jungkook spacing out, mumbling something about how the documentary was the worst idea he ever came up with and suppressing a few curse words.

“Then why are you still doing it?” Jungkook asks.

“I told you already,” Yoongi says in a serious tone as he struggles to get a nice shot, “this won’t last forever,” he says as he watches Jimin through the camera lens. He sits on the asphalt after yet another failed attempt to do a trick that Taehyung desperately begins to explain it all over, and Yoongi can't help but smile a bit, followed by sudden curses as the shot comes out with the wrong amount of luminosity. "Anyway, didn't we agree not to break in here again?" he asks as he looks around. The pool looks nicer by day, he briefly thinks. "Not like I'm complaining, I could get some really good shots here."

“Does your documentary have any theme except for the dumb shit we do which may or may not be illegal most of the times?" Jungkook asks, taking a glance at the sky, and Yoongi does the same as he thinks.

"Youth?" he then replies in a slightly questioning tone. “I mean, isn't this supposed to be the most beautiful moment in life?"

"Cliché," Jungkook comments.

"Not if it's gonna be about us," Yoongi says, laughing a bit. "I want it to start with us running,” he adds while smiling, as if saying it out loud sounds ten times more ridiculous than it did in his head. "With my mixtape as background music," he says, bursting out laughing and ignoring Namjoon's "release it first and then we'll see".

"Running away from what?” Jungkook asks.

“Just running."

“You never do stuff that doesn't have hidden meanings,” Jungkook accuses.

“I just like running,” Yoongi protests but Jungkook simply laughs at the words.

“You hate running. And sweating. And moving. Breathing makes you tired."

“If I hadn’t hurt my shoulder, I’d be better than you now,” Yoongi simply replies, as if the words have no effect on him anymore.

“Shut up," Jungkook laughs. “If you present it, you’re gonna fail."

"You haven’t even started the project yet,” Namjoon then reminds him.  

“It's not that easy," Yoongi then says. "He needs a muse," he mumbles, taking a sip from his drink.

"What muse?" Namjoon distractedly asks, still busy looking at the pictures, but Yoongi's sudden serious tone makes him tear his gaze away from the book.

"See that?" Yoongi asks while indicating a painting from it. "It's Da Vinci."

"That man's Michelangelo," Jungkook says in a slightly questioning tone. Yoongi stares at him in silence for a few seconds before speaking again.

"It's Michelangelo drawn by Da Vinci," he then blurts out.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Namjoon asks confused.

"All the great geniuses to ever exist had muses," Yoongi clarifies.

"Women?" Namjoon asks and Yoongi nods solemnly.

"Da Vinci was gay," Jungkook points out, to which Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh.

"You got the point. You need a muse. You've stopped drawing ever since you and Yugyeom broke up," Yoongi abruptly pauses, stopping himself from speaking further, "or whatever..."

"I have no time."

"You're the type to lose sleep over the things you love, so don't give me that bullshit," Yoongi accuses.

“What’s yours?” Jungkook asks after a while with a frown and Yoongi turns around confused. "Your muse," Jungkook clarifies.

“It’s different when I write songs and when I take pictures, ” Yoongi says, avoiding the question.  

“Jung Hoseok,” Namjoon coughs and Yoongi stops to glare at him, probably already writing a diss track dedicated to him in his head. “Why? Am I wrong?” Namjoon innocently asks. “They say you have to look at a photographer’s pictures to see what he's scared of losing,” he then says in that philosophical tone of his, but Yoongi doesn’t answer, eyes fixed on his phone screen. “You always take pictures of Hoseok.”

"You're really bad at it," Yoongi hears Jimin's voice, closer than it was before, and forces himself to smile a bit. Jungkook knows that it's because he'd hate to see Jimin sad, but it still amazes him how Yoongi can go from stone-cold to the gentlest soul alive. No human should have that much power over him, Jungkook decided back when it was established that Yoongi had the biggest soft spot ever for Jimin. "What?" Jimin asks, out of breath as he takes a sip from his drink.

"You're just really cute with your hair like this," Yoongi says and Jimin breaks into the brightest smile, mumbling a quick 'thanks', getting shy although Namjoon hasn't stopped reminding him how good the new color looked ever since they both came back from Daegu.

"You don't believe it when I say it," Jungkook scoffs, sounding hurt, and Jimin's too busy laughing at him to notice the look Namjoon gives them both.

"You sleeping at Tae's place tonight?" Yoongi asks and Jimin nods a bit in response. He hasn't gone back to his place yet, although he keeps complaining everyday, saying that he should leave already. None of them address it. "I'll drop by later then," Yoongi says, grabbing his jacket and standing up.

"You leaving already?" Jimin asks, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Important business, Jimin," Yoongi says and Jimin wonders when the phrase became a code for "don't ask".

"Okay," he still gives up with a sigh, pouting a bit as he looks away.  

"Say hi to Hoseok from me," Jungkook mumbles as Yoongi takes a few steps. Deep inside-really deep-he knows he deserves the middle finger Yoongi gives him.

“That’s funny to you?” Yoongi asks in disbelief as Hoseok laughs loudly at some lame joke the main character of the movie just made.  

“Yeah,” Hoseok happily answers, smile still lingering on his face.  

“That’s worse than Jin’s jokes.”

"You'd laugh too, if you weren't this grumpy," Hoseok says, poking his cheek. "What's wrong?" he brightly asks, with that tone he always uses when he doesn't want Yoongi to feel pressured to speak but at the same time wants him to know that he'll listen if Yoongi does speak.

"Nothing," Yoongi mumbles, and Hoseok just looks at him without saying a word, until Yoongi gives up with a sigh and mutters a low "everything".

"Talk to me?" Hoseok suggests, although some small voice in his head tells him that he has no right to demand that.

"You think it would help?" Yoongi asks, laughing a bit.

"No," Hoseok admits. "But you're constantly spacing out and you're probably worrying over something useless again."  

"Jimin's not useless," Yoongi mumbles and Hoseok sits up straight to look at him, waiting for an explanation which Yoongi doesn't have. "Why is he acting like this?" Yoongi then asks.

"Like what?"

"Like he's okay when he's not. Quitting his job, dying his hair..." Yoongi says, his words slowly trailing off.

"You've done them both countless times before," Hoseok points out.

"Yeah, but this is Jimin we're talking about, and it's nothing like him."

"You don't know how he used to be before."

"I do know," Yoongi protests. "He told me about it. That's why I'm asking. I though he didn't want to stand out and that's exactly what he's doing."

"He just doesn't care anymore," Hoseok says, shrugging a bit.

"Jimin cares. About a lot of things. Too much," Yoongi disagrees.

"He dyed his hair, it's not that deep," Hoseok sighs, but the sad expression won't leave Yoongi's face. "Listen...He said he's going to join the dance team when school starts. He's not leaving, everything's okay. Seriously."

"Leave where?" Yoongi asks confused, big puppy eyes and a forming frown on his face.

"Busan?" Hoseok says, as if stating the obvious. "He was going to move back but then changed his mind. Jungkook didn't tell you?"

"Jungkook called at six in the morning a few days ago, freaking out because Jimin hadn't been home and, according to him, moved to another city," Yoongi tells him. "I called him in the morning and he happily told me to forget everything. I could hear Tae and Jimin in the background so both me and Joon decided that he either must've been high or trying to prank us or something," Yoongi explains. "Why didn't neither of you say something? We could've thought about something," he then sighs.

"Because he's old enough to make decisions that regard his life?" Hoseok asks. "He's staying, so it doesn't matter anymore," he then quietly says. "If I told you something, you would've probably teamed up with Jungkook to try to come up with something in order to make him stay."

"Jungkook wanted Jimin to stay?" Yoongi can't help but ask with the same lost puppy eyes and frown from before.

"You really think he would've been happy if Jimin left?" Hoseok asks, laughing a bit. "How blind can you be?"

"They used to hate each other," Yoongi feels the need to remind him.

"So did I and Tae, and now we're fine. Amazing how time can change people and relationships, right?"

"It's different," Yoongi says.

"It's not," Hoseok immediately replies, sounding irritated, for some reason. It makes Yoongi think twice before opening his mouth again.

"You two never actually hated each other," he then says and Hoseok goes silent. "You were both just too fucking stubborn to admit that."

"So are they," Hoseok replies. "They're getting along now."

“And you’re so calm about it?”

“Why aren’t you?” Hoseok asks back, not really understanding why Yoongi’s overreacting.

“Is Jungkook trying to hit on Jimin?"

"...maybe."

"And Tae's okay with it?" Yoongi asks, watching as Hoseok simply averts his gaze and shrugs a bit.

"Jimin’s not interested."

"You didn’t reply to my question."

"It does bother him, but there’s not much he can do," Hoseok then sighs. "It’s fine as long as they're not fighting and we can all pretend that we're functional human beings, right?"

"Seok, I know they got closer cause they were forced to practice together for, what, two weeks? But that doesn’t change the fact that they couldn't stand one another even during that period."

“Well, that's clearly," Hoseok stresses, "not the case anymore. You saw how they acted the night at the pool," Hoseok says, not wanting to go deeper into details about that night. "Why are you so against it?"

"I'm not against it, I'm worried," Yoongi clarifies.

"They're mature enough to take care of it themselves," Hoseok says, and Yoongi can't help but sigh in defeat. “Just don’t think about it," he then adds and sometimes Yoongi thinks that even if Hoseok told him that the earth was flat, while looking at him this exact way, he would believe it without even questioning.

“Okay," Yoongi mumbles, gaze getting lost in too many thoughts.

“You're spacing out again," Hoseok points out, slightly amused.

“My brain can’t work when it’s too hot,” Yoongi replies and Hoseok sighs.  

“That’s not how you do it. You’re supposed to say that you can't think straight around me,” Hoseok says and Yoongi rolls his eyes because, apparently, Hoseok has to make everything into a flirting lesson.

“You wish,” he mutters under his breath, loud enough for Hoseok to hear.  

“What was that?” he laughs, crooking his head to one side and giving him a challenging smile. "Are you implying that I've never made you nervous before?”

“You’re so full of yourself, ” Yoongi says, smile staying on even when Hoseok slowly moves to straddle him.

“But you didn’t deny it?"

"Deny what?” Yoongi quietly asks, breath caught in his throat.  

“That, right now,” Hoseok whispers way to close to his ear, placing a kiss on his jaw, “your heart's beating like crazy because I'm this close,” he says, tracing lower with his lips as Yoongi inhales sharply.

“It's not,” Yoongi says-almost pants-as he buries his hand into Hoseok’s hair, feeling a puff of air on his shoulder in response.  

“Liar,” Hoseok laughs into his neck as he places a few kisses there, feeling Yoongi’s heartbeat under his fingertips when he slides one hand under his shirt. He briefly thinks about how Yoongi probably took it from his wardrobe at some point and didn't give back, and then he kisses him hard.

“It’s too hot,” Yoongi whines when he breaks away, weakly gripping Hoseok’s wrist, stopping him before they can go too far. They probably did already.

“So?” Hoseok asks nonetheless. It takes Yoongi a while to reply. He doesn’t even know why he’s stopping Hoseok.

“You’re heavy,” he groans.  

“Rude,” Hoseok says. Yoongi feels his bubbly laugh against his chest. “Wanna switch?” Hoseok then asks and Yoongi wonders how he can always be so composed.

“That’s not the problem.”

“And what is?”

“You,” Yoongi whispers and Hoseok sighs. “The night at the pool you said-”

“Forget what I said. I was drunk."

"Alcohol is a truth serum,” Yoongi says and Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Seok…”  

“It’s been too long."

"Three weeks. "

"Too long,” Hoseok repeats. “Stop pretending like this isn’t why you came over in the first place,” he laughs a bit, deeply inside hoping for Yoongi to deny it. “Stressful week?" he then asks. "Your new song isn't going well? Either that or you lost against Jungkook at basketball,” he teasingly says, aware that he's beginning to go overboard.

“What about you?” Yoongi cockily asks. “That one guy you like must be really bad at making you feel good if you came back to me.”

Hoseok doesn’t look at him.

“Yoongi, this is the last time,” he had said the night at the pool. “There's someone I like...”  

“Bullseye?” Yoongi asks, smiling knowingly at Hoseok’s frown. “Things aren't going well?”

“Shut up,” Hoseok says, burying his head into Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Did you even take him home?” he asks but Hoseok doesn’t reply. “Ask him out?” Yoongi tries this time, but Hoseok’s reply is nothing but silence this time too. “What’s gonna happen to your flirt king reputation now?" he laughs as Hoseok weakly pulls away from him, resting with his back against the wall and running a hand through his hair. “Just be yourself. Throw in a pickup line or two and he’ll be yours,” Yoongi suggests. Hoseok rolls his eyes again so Yoongi adds, “worked with me.”

“You were heartbroken and looking for someone to have fun with. It doesn’t count."

"I'm not heartbroken now," Yoongi blurts out.

"What are you trying to say?" Hoseok tentatively asks.

"That he doesn’t know what he’s missing out," Yoongi says, grabbing Hoseok by the front of his shirt and pulling him back on top of him to quickly steal a kiss, "and that you should forget him," he adds, making Hoseok frown a bit. "Anyone who hasn't fallen for your heart-shaped lips and freckle already isn't worth your time," Yoongi laughs, running his thumb over Hoseok's upper lip. He doesn't know why he does that, figures out he should stop but Hoseok doesn't seem to mind.

"You didn't even know I had a freckle until last month," he points out, but Yoongi simply laughs before placing a peck on top of it.  

"Never really paid attention to your mouth until that night we-"

“You just ruined it,” Hoseok says, rolling off Yoongi again with a sigh.

“What? The romantic atmosphere that wasn’t here to begin with?” Yoongi laughs, the breathless type that makes Hoseok's frown smooth out a bit. “Finish what you started.”

“I thought you were too hot for it," Hoseok teases.

"Yeah, but you’re hotter," Yoongi breathes out and Hoseok's frown immediately softens, eventually letting a smile appear instead of it.

"I taught you well," he then proudly says, leaning in and closing his eyes. And, maybe, if asked in a court of law, with his palm firmly pressed on top of the Bible, Yoongi would admit that deeply inside he knows they're not supposed to. And he would bet that Hoseok knows at least this much, but neither of them seem to care too much about it now.

"If you leave any marks–” Yoongi warns at some point, but Hoseok cuts him off with another kiss. Yoongi sighs at the feeling of the gentleness of Hoseok's fingers in his hair, his other hand probably leaving bruises on his thigh with the force. “If you leave any marks, you’re dead,” he says, trying to seem unaffected by the whole situation.  

“Okay,” Hoseok calmly replies, licking at the spot that’s probably already blooming in reds and purples, and then lightly pressing kisses all over Yoongi's neck. “Want me to stop?”  

“No,” Yoongi breathes out before he can stop himself, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

“You gotta be straightforward with me, y'know?” Hoseok reminds him. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Good,” Yoongi says, laughing a bit.

“I’m just saying that you have to give me a hand sometimes, cause I’m not good at figuring you out on my own,” Yoongi hears him say and Hoseok’s weight, Hoseok’s after shower scent and Hoseok’s fingertips in his hair just feel too good for Yoongi to realize what he’s trying to say. “So if I did something wrong, you have tell me,” Hoseok adds.

“You didn’t?” Yoongi asks instead of replying, looking at him that way that makes it seem like he’s genuinely confused.

“Then why are you suddenly acting like this?"  

"No reason,” and this time it's Yoongi who impatiently pulls Hoseok closer, kissing him hard and opting for silence. Hoseok pulls away in worry, hesitating a bit. Yoongi sighs. "Just got a lot on my mind," he mumbles and Hoseok silently lets him switch them over and place kisses all over his chest.

Maybe Hoseok's right, Yoongi thinks, and maybe he's just worrying over useless little things and it's been too long.

But this is the last time, he tells himself.

"Don't think about it," Hoseok reminds him in between kisses, and Yoongi closes his eyes, letting Hoseok make him forget about everything: about Jimin and how he was supposed to leave, about Jungkook who felt guilty, about that night, at the pool, and Hoseok’s words.

“Yoongi,” he had quietly called the next morning, waiting for him to answer with a soft hum before continuing as his fingers unconsciously wandered over aching love marks. “This is the last time.”

“Okay,” Yoongi had sleepily answered, voice muffled by the blanket he had pulled up to his chin.

“This time for real,” Hoseok said, stressing the words as he picked up his clothes from the floor.

“...you always say that,” Yoongi mumbled.

“There’s this guy I like,” Hoseok continued, back turned to Yoongi as he was tying his shoes. Yoongi forced his eyes open, starting to become more awake.

“Okay,” he said again after a while and it sounded more like a groan rather than a word. "What time is it?"

"About six?" Hoseok wondered, too busy looking for his keys under the bed.

"Where you goin'?" Yoongi asked, shivering slightly because of the cold.

“Home," Hoseok rushedly replied and Yoongi opened his eyes this time, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a hazy gaze.

“Why?” he innocently asked, making Hoseok stop in his tracks and try to stammer out a reply.  

He wondered, too.

And then Yoongi froze, sleepiness disappearing from his eyelids as realization hit him. That's how things just worked between them. It was an unwritten rule both of them were aware of ever since the whole thing had started, and Yoongi should've known better than to ask the stupid question. Should've known all along that he could've never asked Hoseok to stay, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Dance practice," Hoseok still replied, eventually, and Yoongi wondered whether he was saying the truth or not.  

“Okay,” he mumbled again.

When Yoongi wakes up, it's to Hoseok's sleeping figure within his hand's reach and Hoseok's phone ringing for what seems to be the hundredth time. And when Yoongi squints at the name on the top of the screen, briefly considering the possibility of declining immediately, part of him tells him otherwise, so he picks up with a groan, careful not to wake Hoseok up in the process.

"Tae..." he sighs.

"Oh," Taehyung replies on the other side of the line, probably expecting to hear anything but Yoongi's voice. "Sorry, did I wake yo up?" he still asks, not really needing a reply.

"Why'd you call?" Yoongi asks. Hoseok shifts in his sleep at the sound of his voice.

"Is Hoseok there?"

"He's sleeping," Yoongi purposefully tells him, making Taehyung let out another quiet 'oh...' in response.

"Could you tell him to call me when he wakes up?"

"Why?" Yoongi coldly asks, suddenly realizing how defensive he sounds.

"Got something to ask him," Taehyung says, not bothering to explain further.

"I thought you deleted his number," Yoongi can't help but blurt out.

"What?" Taehyung asks, and Yoongi wonders of he didn't hear or if he's simply surprised by the statement.

"Nothing. I'll tell him to call you back, okay?" Yoongi then sighs. "Everything you've got to say can probably wait until tomorrow morning," he adds, hanging up before Taehyung can say anything else.

"Could've been nicer," Hoseok mumbles, half awake ever since Yoongi picked up. "What did he want?"

"To talk."

"Weird," Hoseok comments.

"Shouldn't you change his contact name or something?" Yoongi asks.

"To what?" Hoseok asks back, sounding both amused and sleepy. "Ex fuck friend?" he asks, laughing slightly.

"Better than Taehyungie with a bunch of hearts next to it."

"Can't let Jimin get suspicious," Hoseok half explains.

"If you told him you wouldn't have to hide it anymore," Yoongi suggests.

"Did you know that they used to live together? In the same house?" Hoseok stresses. "I didn't."

"Jimin and Taehyung?" Yoongi asks, but Hoseok just nods into his pillow, without bothering to explain further.

"Jungkook thinks they dated."

"Even if they did it was probably nothing too serious. They were kids. They still are," Yoongi points out, although he's always thought that the two of them were suspicious at times.

"Taehyung would've told me if it was nothing too serious," Hoseok calmly says. "That's why Jungkook's acting weird," he then explains. "Cause he's scared of ruining whatever's between them now."

"Why don't you ask Jimin?" Yoongi suggests after a while.

"You think he'd tell the truth?"

"What else can we do then?"

"We don't do anything," Hoseok says in a warning tone. "We let them handle it cause it's none of our business," he says, along with something that sounds like 'I shouldn't have told you' that Yoongi fails to register. "Just...just don't think about it, okay?" Hoseok manages to ask in between yawns and Yoongi thinks that it might be too late.

Jimin did spend a whole night telling him about his past. Nothing too specific, Yoongi realizes now, just little things that made him feel like they were similar-or used to be, because Jimin, apparently, has changed. Yoongi thinks that if there's something that's different about Jimin it's his hair color, his height and also being a little bit more mature for his age. He's careless sometimes, rarely, but Yoongi can see right through him every single time. He's careless enough to let himself get drunk and pretend that he doesn't care about a thing anymore, and flirt with Namjoon, and text his ex, and kiss Jungkook while acting like it's no big deal.

"When I told my dad I wanted to dance, he laughed in my face," Jimin had told him one night. "But then I filmed that commercial while dancing and he saw me on tv," Jimin said, laughing a bit. "And suddenly I was the pride of our family."

"Same with me," Yoongi confessed. "My parents said I'd destroy our home like that. Now they insist on coming to see me rap."

"Have you told them?"

"About the record label?" Yoongi asked. "I still don't know whether to accept or not."

"You should," Jimin said while smiling. "Don't waste your talent."

"What talent, Jimin?" Yoongi laughed, scribbling a few verses on his notebook, homewrok long forgotten. "I haven't been able to write anything for the past month."

"Blocks happen," Jimin had told him. "Just stop worrying about what everyone else thinks."

"It's not that easy," Yoongi said and Jimin nodded a bit in response. It wasn't easy for Jimin either, Yoongi then thought, not if he needed to engrave it on his chest as a reminder.

"Hey," Yoongi quietly calls, mostly to check if Hoseok fell back asleep. When Hoseok hums in response, he hesitantly asks, "remember that one song I told you about?" Hoseok hums again. "Do you feel like singing a line or two?"

"Maybe," Hoseok laughs, trying to seem mysterious. "Found a new title yet?"

"Keeping the old one."

"Nevermind?" he asks, and Yoongi nods again, making Hoseok smile back sleepily.

To be continued...

[sexuallyabused666]

Trauma...PTSD...

Trigger Warning

When an ordinary person thinks about trauma, they may think something along the lines of “head trauma” also known as a concussion.  

When an ordinary person thinks about PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), they think of people who were in combat, who deal with the things that haunt them to this day about what they went through. 

But this isn’t the ordinary trauma/PTSD that I am referring to.  

This is the other, awful trauma, that nobody wishes to have happen to themselves, or someone they love deeply, let alone the PTSD that person, or the person they love deeply has to deal with for..  Goodness knows how long. 

So what I’m about to say, is personal, deep to my heart.  Some things may or may not have been said to another person before.  So I say again: Trigger Warning.  

                                  EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING:  I remember some bits and pieces some times.  Some times it comes through my dreams, sometimes it comes through while I’m sitting at my computer, sometimes it comes through while I’m being passionate with my husband.  Sometimes it happens due to songs I hear playing.  Either way, I’m paralyzed.  In my sleepy dreams, I may twitch or make odd sounds in my sleep.  But my nightmares haven’t consisted of zombies, or crazy sci-fi things like that for a while now.  

Right now, I am remembering being thrown against a wall, told to stay there and be quiet, while he took my clothes off and shoved himself inside of me.  As he groans in pleasure, I cry in pain.  Silently.   I am remembering the first time I drank with other people, I was 19.  It was my worst decision so far in my life.  I drank because other people who were underage were drinking...  At this point, I haven’t touched alcohol since I was 13/14 MAYBE even 15, meaning my tolerance was beyond low.  I drank fireball.  Feeling the hot liquor burn down my throat as the cinnamon flavor stayed in my mouth, shortly following a Tipsy me.  Then more and more shots came my way, and I was drinking too fast.   I ended up blacking in and out, which very quickly followed throwing up.  For me, there is no in between; when I’m blacking out, I am throwing up, and when I’m throwing up, I’m blacking out.  It got to the point where I was dragged into the shower, clothes taken off and forced to drink water and take a cold shower.  Now that, I remember clearly, because there were 2 other women there, both spouses (or a girlfriend of one) of 2 other men who were there. Both sober.  Upset that I made a mess in just about every room in the house.  After the shower, I was fairly unconscious from throwing up so much, and I went into the back room to go to sleep.  At this point of the night, one of the men came out of the living room into the room that I was in.  He kissed me, and then started grinding on my weak body.  Then his name was called, and he got up so fast.  When asked what he was doing, he simply said that he was saying goodnight.  The others shrugged it off, and I went to sleep.   The next weekend, I was invited to play some video games at the same house.  I was expecting a lot of people to be there, but there happened to be only one other person there.  Well, I was stuck.  I didn’t know what Uber was, and I didn’t want to call a taxi to go home.  I shrugged it off, and we started playing a whole new drinking game called “Zombies for Shots”, basically meaning, We were playing Call of Duty Zombies, and every time someone died from getting killed by a zombie, that person who died, took a shot of Mango Rum.  I’m already a Light Weight, and I freak out when Zombies are brought into the picture, which means hesitation and death.  So I got sh-wasted again......  I threw up a couple times, but at least I threw up outside or in the toilet, this time.  He put me to bed, in his bed, and I believe he continued to play the game for a little while longer.  When I woke up, it was pitch black, I couldn’t see a thing, and it felt as if I had the world on my chest.   “Shhhhh” he said “It’s okay” then he shoved himself in me.   He ended up putting his hand around my throat, cutting off the oxygen which made me pass out.  Sadly, it didn’t seem to make me pass out long enough...  when I awoke again, he was still thrusting himself in and out of my body.  How is this happening? I thought to myself. Why?  it hurts so bad.... Tears streamed down my face. The next morning, he took me back home.  My home was on a Military base.  I was brand new to the area, place, people... everyone and everything.  And the worst part is, I came alone; everyone else I was in Training with went to other places of the world, where I was stuck in the states.  I knew no-one, nothing, nobody I could talk to.  Except my boyfriend.   But how was I going to tell this to my boyfriend?  I don’t want to say any names, because I feel as if I’ll be the one to blame in the long run..New girl, and all of the sudden, she’s raped?  Yeah right.  Oh and there was alcohol involved?  She was asking for it! But I wasn’t......I wasn’t at all......  but if I don’t say any names, then he’ll doubt me and leave me, accusing me of cheating on him.  At least that’s what I thought, at the time....  

I left my him, not knowing what to do, how to feel, or what to say......and then my emotions sat, in an awful way..  I began to think that I wasn’t worth anything; my only purpose was to please others.  But I avoided everyone and everything, for a few weeks, possibly a month or two; after work I went home and watched Netflix and chilled by myself in that time I was avoiding everyone and everything.  My roommate and I shared a room, and a bathroom with 2 other women.  My roommate eventually came back and was about to go to the beach..  She asked me if I wanted to go with them and a few others.  My mind said I needed to go out, it’s Friday night, what could go wrong?  Then my gut turned as I said yes and ran to get ready for the beach with my roommate.  I ignored it as I got in the car with her and some of her friends, but I did request shotgun because I do get car sick easily, plus it was nice to not be crammed between 2 men I did not know at all, in the back seat.   The day went smoothly, I ended up making friends with one of the guys, while I went swimming in the ocean.  I did get caught in some seaweed and almost got taken out in a current while caught in the seaweed, but that was only briefly.  Later that day, my roommate wanted to go home, and I was still pumped up from how awesome the beach was, and how cool my new friends seemed to be.  One of my new friends, suggested that we drink after we get back to base, but the 3 of us (my 2 “new friends” and I) were all under age, but my roommate happened to have a fake ID, and tried to get some liquor before she took us all back to base.  Tried being the term, because the area we were at, didn’t accept out of state ID’s, and she couldn’t try it on base, since all active duty members have their own ID after boot camp and the store on base would check your Military ID, rather than your drivers license.   With the failed attempt, we went back to base. Little did I know, one of my new friends had contacted an of-age friend of his, and bribed him to get some alcohol for us.  I laughed and thought it was going to be fun.   That night, I made another friend, who ended up saving my life from alcohol poisoning, who happened to be the of-age friend the others contacted.  “Of-age” suggested to call an ambulance and get me some help, but then I woke up throwing up all over the bathroom, and shortly after, coming-to, but this alcohol was different than anything else I had drank before, and I actually had black outs without throwing up.   In between my black outs, I remember being sat up in the bathroom, then being sat up in the bedroom, then standing up, about to be taken to my room, or so I thought.  “Of-Age” insisted that we stay in his room, where as my friend that I had a nice talk with in the ocean, said that I was okay and that he would take me back to my room, even though none of us knew where my room was; I had forgotten my room number..  “Of-Age” was hesitant but told me to call him if I needed anything, and then gave me his phone number under a silly name that I still remember 2 years later.   After that, I remember struggling to get down the stairs, then I knew I walked a ways, but I didn’t know where.  Then I remember struggling to get up the stairs when he picked me up and carried me to his room.  He had an extra charger in his room, which charged my phone.  I plopped on the floor and started to fall asleep when he picked me up and cuddled me.  Later that night I woke up to him grinding on me.  I turned around to face him, trying to push him away, but he pulled me closer and started kissing me.  His roommate wasn’t there for some reason, and my phone was out of reach....  The next thing I remember, I was on the floor, my pants and panties were taken off, my shirt and bra pulled up to my shoulders, exposing my breasts in a painful way, one of my legs propped up on his shoulder, the other on his thigh/hip.  I gasped in pain.  what is happening? I asked myself, then everything became clear and I began frantically looking for my phone that was pushed away even further than before. NO!  PLEASE NO! My mind shouted.  My vision was still blurry enough to the point where I wasn’t sure where I was, but my mind was sober enough to understand what was happening, and who it was.   Pain pulsed through my whole body as he covered my mouth and shoved himself deeper and deeper inside of me.  stretching me further than I thought possible.  It didn’t end soon enough.  I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout, and most importantly, I wanted to get the hell out of there... he grabbed my hips with all the strength he had, pushing himself further inside of me.  At this point I was limp, but still awake.  Realization sat in that he was stronger than I could ever be.  I could see every muscle in his arms flex, his abs puff with every stroke..... and then it was over, and I couldn’t move....  my body hurt so bad I couldn’t cry...  I may have been intoxicated to the point where my memory faltered when it started, but I was completely sober by the time he was done with me. 

These things, these events, have screwed with my trust for others for the past 2 years.  I hesitate with everyone and everything.  I easily dislike people for how they may treat others, or even how they look.   I have dreams about these things happening again, often.  I’ve gone to therapy, and I’ve done rehab for Alcohol Abuse, when in all reality I didn’t see any other way of dealing with these things before, that I bribed people with my body, money, or other things, to get the alcohol I felt like I needed.  I eventually saw myself as an object/toy for men, and started to offer my body for things I wanted.  Then when I tried to kill myself, I was told that I had more worth than what I gave myself credit for....I was shown how much I was worth, rather than what I was given.   But these events still haunt me.  When I listen to music, I don’t usually hear the words right off the bat; I’ve listened a song for a week straight and I still haven’t figured out what the words are, but at the same time, there are times where there is a song playing, and I freeze where I am and/or start bawling my eyes out, as everything replays in my mind as if it happens again.  There are people (look-a-likes), things, places ext. that may remind me of my trauma.  There are even things that I’VE done, that triggers that memory.  (Which is My PTSD....) One of those, is writing all of this....and even then, I had to stop.  I’m not even done with what I’ve been through.......but I’m done for today....  

I’m sorry if I triggered anyone, I did not mean to, but at the same time, please know: YOU ARE NOT ALONE....  You are loved.