#i wish i could stand the feeling of belts but the added weight makes me feel crazy like i can't fly away at any moment like i would prefer

[stlamb]

inspired by ypur blog outfit <3

UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY ahh you look beautiful honey thank you for sharing with me :'))) bless

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Nsfw. TsengxReader, SephirothxReader ZackxReader foot fetish headcanon? Well it isn’t so much them with the fetish, but you (or should be you). He took you seriously when you told him to step on you. I started Sephiroth’s months ago but never finished, but Tseng gave me inspiration to complete it. I have the layout of his office in remake in mind for Tseng. My fav Cage the Elephant line is gonna be added in. Usually I’d do my favorites last, but this time I absolutely have no favorites. Maybe Seph because of his foot size.  Whatever the character says is italicized, reader's is not.

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Tseng

What made you realize you might have been too down bad for Tseng was during training. You got a bit overzealous, thinking you had the upper hand against him. Until he swept you off of your feet, stepping on your chest as Tseng’s display of dominance. Grabbing his ankle, far too gentle for a sparring match, you can't help but stare at his foot placed firmly against you. Your eyes trailing from his well polished shoes, up his leg, until you were staring into questioning, eyes. They kept you frozen in place. Unable to respond as Tseng presses just a bit harder into you, asking why you’ve hesitated. You don’t tell him this, but inwardly you wish he would press down so hard that you struggled to breathe.

Tseng wishes you wouldn’t look at him that way. He’s seen that look in your eyes before, he can tell you want to play. To your delight he does press down harder before pulling away. Letting you know just how foolish he thought you were for thinking you could beat him so easily. Though not with his words, but more so his body language. A condescending look in his eyes that would, normally, annoy you.

He’ll confront you about it later, calling you to his office for your annual performance review. Nothing was unusual about the meeting, a few critiques here and there. After wrapping up your review he asks you about your hesitance in the last training match. You know there’s no point in lying to Tseng. Expressing to him exactly how you instantly wanted him to dominate you the moment his foot connected with your chest.

“So you like to be stepped on, hm?” This is something he can certainly get behind. Now here you are, completely naked. Ass up, face down against the floor of his office. Tseng’s digging his heel into your cheek in an almost cruel manner before pulling away. Using the bottom of his foot to push you over so you’d fall on your back. Bringing his foot back down but this time on your neck. 

He knows he should be careful. The thought nearly leaves him as he presses down on your throat, restricting your airways and leaving you gasping for air. You already look so fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Only giving you commands to undress and directing you in which positions he wants you in. 

As you lay on your back, Tseng shifts to stand above you, your body pinned between his legs. His movements teasingly slow as he firmly plants his foot on your shoulder, shifting some of his weight to his opposite leg. Every movement of Tseng’s just feels like an absolute tease: the way he slowly unbuckles his belt, the way he pulls his zipper down so painfully slow. Pulling his hardened cock out and stroking himself right above your face. You didn’t realize Tseng would be so into this little kink of yours, part of you hates that you didn’t tell him sooner.

Without notice Tseng pulls away again, making his way towards the couch. Taking a seat with his legs spread, motioning for you to take your place at his feet once more, patiently waiting on his next command. Watching with anticipation as he starts stroking himself again, demanding you crawl to him. You do exactly that, taking your place as quickly as you could between his legs. Tseng grabs your hair, roughly tugging your head towards his hardened member. Immediately opening your mouth and taking as much of his thick cock as you can handle. You know the drill by now, you’re not coming off of his dick until he unloads in your mouth. Gently kicking your legs apart, Tseng begins rubbing his shoe against your core, causing you to whimper around him. Languidly keeping up this motion until you’re coming undone on his boot, Tseng releasing in your mouth, keeping your head in place to ensure you swallow every last drop. 

Definitely something that’s going to happen again, but also a very rare occurrence. The next time he makes sure to have a fresh pair of shoes because you’ll be licking the bottom of them. Loves the way your cum makes his shoe glisten, is also going to have you lick his shoes clean. You know he doesn’t like leaving messes.

Sephiroth

A text from you is what kicks all of this off. Requesting that he bought a new pair of work boots, emphasizing that he’s not to wear them yet. As he steps into the apartment you immediately spot the shoebox in his hands and smirk. You can’t help but think that you’re about to ruin this man, so unsuspecting it’s adorable. You’ve learned he’s secretly a man full of kinks, so you’re certain this would go well.

“Get the coat off, change shoes, then meet me in the bedroom.” You’re eager, barely giving him a goddamn hello upon walking through the door. He’s use to your strange requests at this point, you’re an odd person with sometimes even more odd desires. “No greeting at all, just come in and strip. What am I to you?” He says as you walk into the bathroom. He’s not bothered really, coat already being shed and placed neatly on the couch. Making sure to leave the straps on since you love grabbing them as he fucks into you. It’s not like you haven’t fucked him in his uniform before, so what makes this so different that you needed to make a special request? Pulling up his boots and tightening them he chooses to stay put in the living room, making himself comfortable on the couch.

Walking into the room naked you catch him sitting on the couch. Christ, he practically engulfs your sofa with his large stature. You love how small you are in comparison to him. His whole body engulfs yours, making you feel trapped. “You’re not at all where I asked you to be.” 

“Still no explanation or is this another physical presentation?” Oh he’s catching on, at least you’ve been teaching him well. With a nod of your head you confirm that this would certainly be a physical presentation. Crawling onto his lap, staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him desperately. Grabbing his face as a rush of endorphins swell your chest, yearning for one another so desperately, lips, teeth and tongues clash together. 

Recoiling for a split second, you glance down to see Sephiroth watching you breathlessly through his bangs. Gripping your waist he starts grinding against you, causing you to both let out a soft moan. Settling your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. Shifting to the side you straddle one of his legs, grinding yourself against him. You can’t help that you keep going lower and lower, until your core is hovering right above his foot.

Pressing yourself against him with a satisfied moan, you don’t hold yourself back, letting every time you’ve pictured this moment come to mind. Doing your best to gain control so you’re not grinding against his foot in a frenzied manner. You’re making his boot so wet and god the way Sephiroth looks at you, with a mix of astonishment and curiosity, driving yourself closer to the edge. You just couldn’t help it when you came undone prematurely, cursing yourself for not lasting longer. Don’t worry you’ve thoroughly peaked Sephiroth's interest, his voice playful and tinted with a bit of excitement “Oh, we’re not anywhere near done.”

He’s going to experiment with this far more than expected. Loves the power play that comes along with it. He’ll step on any part of you that you ask, without a doubt. This one also loves to see your cum on his boot. The way you whimper when he steps on your face drives him insane. Sephiroth loves it when you kiss his feet, something about you wanting to be the very ground he steps on makes his heart swell. 

Zack

Yes, yes, the fucking puppy. Hear me out, the sweetest ones are the freakiest people. He didn’t really mean it when he jokingly asked if he could step on you. Though it was so out of the blue you’re unsure if it was a joke or not. The thought of you pressed against his boot quickly becoming enticing to him. Besides, if you didn’t want this to happen, you wouldn’t have said yes. He'll take your answer and run with it, bringing it up during foreplay. After all, Zack’s just as adventurous as he is energetic. 

“God, you really like this don’t you?” He’s practically cooing at you, watching as you squirm under his boot. Another face down and ass up scenario on the floor. Zack’s perched on the edge of the bed, left foot propped up on your ass while he presses his opposite into your face. Leaning back onto the palms of his hands, a cocky, shit eating grin in place that you only ever see while he’s doming you.

If you want to fuck yourself on his boot he’ll let you. Though, it’ll be the most he’s ever edged you in your time together. Moving his foot the moment he notices you’re getting close. He can’t help it, not when you’re already about to come undone. Zack’s voice still playful as he teases you, “You couldn’t even last five minutes?” No, not when our usually innocent puppy gives you such a filthy look while he rubs you with the underside of his boot. 

I feel like to everyone's surprise, Zack has impressively pretty feet. Yes, you can lick them. He likes to switch, so don’t be surprised when he’s asking you to step on him in return. He’s so eager bout it, practically bouncing up and down as he waits for you to press your foot against his face. Definitely prefers you barefoot, he likes licking the entire sole of your foot. Peppering kisses along your foot, almost tickling you but feeling so good. Shows the entire foot love, not a toe goes missed. My guy is incredibly efficient when it comes to making sure he’s licked every single part of you. 

Enjoys footjobs from you. The first time he didn’t even bother to hold himself off, the way your feet were pressing his cock against his abdomen, rubbing him so teasingly with the perfect amount of pressure. You’ve got him making a sticky mess of himself within moments, cum slowly leaking out of his cock. Begging you not stop just yet, rutting against your feet as he tries to gain more friction. The way Zack moans is absolutely slutty as he falls apart under your touch. Uses this kink on a rare occasion, well, kind of, he often finds himself focused on your feet.

[islesnucks]

BACKUP BABYSITTERS - MAT BARZAL X READER

It's here! once again thank u @softbarzal for inspiring this

Word Count: 3.5 k

Warning: none

Summary: your date with Mat is cut short when a friend asks you to look after her daughter, but then he tags along

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“Please, please, please. I have to stay here for like 3 more hours and I already called the babysitter and she can’t stay longer. Just put on a movie and I promise she won’t cause any trouble.” your friend basically begged you from the other side of the phone.

“It’s not that I’m worried about taking care of her, I love spending time with her, but I’m in the middle of a date Lili.” you told her, turning your head to look at Mat who was sitting back on your table. He sent a small smirk your way, probably because he saw your furrowed brows.

“Shit I forgot that was today.” There was a long silence but you knew what was coming next. “Can’t you leave early? I know I’m asking a lot and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You could sense the desperation in her tone and you knew she wouldn’t be asking this if it wasn’t really the only option, so there wasn’t much to think about. Even if it meant leaving Mat not even halfway into the date, you had to do it.

“Ok, sure tell the nanny I’ll be there in 15.” you said and heard Lili let out a deep sigh making you smile. Being a single mom wasn’t easy and if you could help your friend in any way you most surely would.

“You are the best. Seriously. Best human being in existence.”

“I know, I know. Now get back to work before they fire you.”

“Love you, bye.”

“Love you too.”

Mat watched you talk on the phone, intrigued but trying not to be noisy. It was clear to see you were in distress and that caused him to worry. Soon you were making you way back to the table. He felt a bit of deja vu seeing you walk to the table like you had done earlier that night when you arrived at the restaurant, gorgeous as ever, taking his breath away. Only that now instead of that beautiful smiled that would appear whenever you looked at him, you had a concerned look on your face, which only made him worry more. You were just trying to come up with a way of telling him you had to leave right now without it sounding like a lame excuse to dip.

“Is everything okay?” he asked as soon as you were next to him.

“Yeah, just a little change of plans.” you started to say, without taking your seat and grabbing your coat from behind it. “I have to leave, like right now.”

“What happened?” He was genuinely preoccupied which warmed your heart. 

“Remember my friend Lili? The one that has a daughter of 5?” you asked and he nodded. You had told him about her on one of your first dates some weeks ago. “There was some problem at her office, she has to stay longer and the girl that babysits for her can’t stay the extra hours so she called me to see if I could go take care of little Amy...”

“And you said yes.” he finished the sentence for you. 

“Yes. I’m sorry. I promise I’m not making this up.” you were quick to add making him chuckle. “I really was enjoying this but she’s my best friend and Amy is like a niece. I can’t not help her.”

“Don’t worry I totally get it. We can raincheck, no big deal.” he said grabbing your hand in a reassuring manner. “Do you have a ride?”

“No, but I’ll order an uber-”

“Don’t. I’ll give you a ride.” he quickly said standing up, not letting go of your hand.

“You really don’t have to-”

“I’ll take every extra bit of time I can get with you miss.” Your cheeks turned red at his comment and he smiled down at you, loving the effect he had on you.

After making your way to the counter and failing to convince Mat to split the check for the food you weren’t even able to finish, you walked to his car hand in hand.

On the ride low music played in the background as you made conversation and Mat took advantage of every single red light to sneak a kiss or two. However the ride was shorter than you would have wanted it, in a couple minutes you were in front of Lili’s house.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” he said taking off his seat belt. You open your mouth ready to tell him he didn’t have to, but before you could Mat added: “Don’t even try to stop me, every minute counts, remember?” He leaned in to give you a final peck on the lips and then rapidly left the car to go around and open the door for you.

“Such a gentleman.” you joked taking the hand he was offering.

“I try my best.”

He closed the door behind you and gently moved your hand so it would be wrapped around his arm as you walked up to the door. Once there you rang the bell and within the second the door was opening showing you a really stressed teenager.

“Hi you must be Y/N, right?” she asked, already putting on her coat and grabbing her backpack. You nodded. “Thank you for rushing here. I really wish I could stay but I have another kid I have to babysit. Please tell Lili I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t worry she gets it.” you tried to calm her down.

“Amy is in the living room-” she started to say only to be interrupted by the 5 year old suddenly appearing down the hallway. Her eyes went wide and she smiled as she ran down the hall screaming your name.

“Aunty Y/N!” she screamed before jumping into your arms. You couldn’t help but laugh, wrapping your arms around her and positioning her on your side, resting her weight on your hip. Mat was beaming beside you, eyes full of adoration as he watched the sweet exchange.

“How’s my favorite niece doing?”

“I’m your only niece.” she remarked making you and Mat laugh once again.

“You’re getting too smart.” you joked poking her side to make her giggle.

“She already ate but there’s some food on the fridge if you get hungry, and we were about to watch Frozen 2.” the babysitter said as she crossed the door, clearly on a rush to leave.

“Wait do you have a ride or something to get to your next house? It’s already too late to be walking outside alone. I can give you a ride if you need.” Mat said before the girl could leave. You looked at him, a bit surprised by his words but at the same time not at all since you knew how gentlemanly he could get. How he could go from behaving like a kid to an adult within a second still amazed you. 

“Oh don’t worry I have my car, but thanks!” she replied, pulling out the keys to the car. “Bye Amy, see you tomorrow.” she added waving to the little girl.

“Bye!” Amy replied waving back to her. The three of you watched making sure the girl got back to get her car safely and once she was gone you closed the door and turned to look at Mat.

“That was such a dad thing to do considering she’s probably not that much younger than us” you teased him.

“I was being polite.”

“I know. I loved it.” you said giving him a wink and made your way to the living room before he could respond.

He watched you walk down the hall with the little girl in your arms and had to tell himself it was way too early in your relationship to start fantasizing about what your kids would look like, but that wasn’t enough to stop him from doing it.

“So we’re watching Frozen 2?” you asked Amy as you placed her on the couch and sat beside her.

“Who is he?” she asked referring to Mat, completely ignoring your question. You surely weren’t about to explain to a 5 year old the concept of dating and boyfriends. Plus you and Mat hadn’t talked about where your relationship stood, so you actually had to discover that yourself before telling the little girl. But as you looked for the right words Mat appeared on the living room and answered.

“I’m Mat. I’m a friend of your aunt.” he said followed by his best smile, but you could tell he was a bit nervous meeting the kid. Especially because he knew kids had no filter whatsoever so she was gonna say whatever came to her mind. He just hoped it was something good.

Amy looked him up and down, sword of examining him and Mat could have sworn he hadn’t felt that judged ever since his fitness test at the scouting years ago. You tried to hold in the giggles as you watched the grown man standing a bit awkwardly in front of you, being extremely intimidated by a 5 year old. Amy then scooted close to you and lifted herself on her knees putting her hands around her mouth and reaching your year to tell you a secret. Nevertheless she was still a loud young kid so what intended to sound like a whisper ended up being loud enough for anyone to hear.

“Is he the cute hockey player you and mom talked about?” she asked and your eyes went wide and face red. You looked at Amy surprised she had just said that and then looked at Mat, who was looking away pretending not to have heard that but the wicked smile on his face said he had.

“We really have to start being more careful with what we say around you.” you jokingly reprimanded her making her giggle. “But yes he is.” 

Your eyes went to Mat after saying that, wanting to see his reaction. Proud smile and puffed out chest, it was clear to see he liked hearing that. Mat was a man that thrived on praise, everyone knew that, but he was happy just hearing that you talked about him with your friend. It made him feel important, like he was part of your life and he loved it. He had talked about you to everyone who was willing to hear really, he actually couldn’t shut up about you sometimes and that resulted in his friends teasing him constantly, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that apparently you were as into the relationship as he was, that couldn’t make him happier.

Amy nodded and then seemed to think about something serious for a moment before turning back to Mat.

“Are you going to watch Frozen 2 with us?” she simply asked like it was the most casual thing ever. You started panicking a bit, heart raising on your chest. This was the first time Mat met someone from your life, it didn’t matter if it was a 5 year old girl who didn’t really understand what was going on. You didn’t want to rush things only to end up scaring him away like it had happened with other guys you’d dated.

“Well Amy, Mat has other things-” you started to explain to her, trying to get out of what could turn out to be a really awkward moment.

“If you aunty is okay with it, then sure I’d love to watch Frozen 2 with you.” he replied with the sweetest grin in his face, but you still feared he just felt some kind of obligation to stay because Amy was the one asking.

“That’s sweet Mat but you really don’t have to. I’m sure there are thousand things you’d like to do rather than watching a kids movie.”

“First of all, Frozen 2 rocks, I wanna watch it. Secondly for the third time tonight, everything I’m doing is because I want to not because I feel like I have to.” he reassured you, washing away once and for all any insecurity left in you. You smiled at him, biting your bottom lips in disbelief, wondering how you had gotten so lucky. 

“Then I guess Mat is staying for movie night.” you told Amy and she stood on the couch and started clapping. “But I have to warn you, Mat eats all the popcorn.”

“That’s not true!” he replied, taking his hand to his chest in pretended offense.

“Ok Mat and I will go make some popcorn and you Amy go get your stuffed animals because we can’t watch a movie without them, right?” you said and Amy was instantly rushed to her room making both of you chuckle.

You stood up and grabbed Mats hand, dragging him across the house to the kitchen.

“Is Lili going to be fine with this? You know, she doesn’t know me and I’m hanging around her daughter, I don’t want you to get in any trouble.” Mat said leaning against the isle as you walked around the kitchen grabbing everything you needed for the popcorn.

“I’m like her second mother, Lili trusts me and I trust you to be around Amy so there won’t be any problem.” you told him as you put the bag on the microwave. Those words meant more to Mat that you would have guessed, you didn’t noticed but his cheeks went a bit red and he couldn't contain his smile. He couldn’t understand why you letting him into your life had such and effect on him, and he couldn’t quite put a name yet to the bubbling feeling you caused on him, but he would later realize it was love.

Soon you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist and his chest pressing against your back as he rested his chin in your shoulder.

“Thank you, it really means a lot.” he whispered into your ear, squeezing you a little. You knew the action was supposed to be cute, but his hot breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

“Could you be any more perfect?” you said turning around in his embrace to face him after turning on the microwave, being met with his all too familiar smug smile that made you roll your eyes and chuckle at the same time. He was about to reply something cocky surely, but you decided to erase that smile of his with a kiss.

You placed your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, as his hands stayed firmly in your waist. His lips fitted with yours in perfect rhythm, like it was meant to be. You wanted to deepen the kiss so badly but a voice inside your head kept on reminding you there was a really energetic, curious little girl around the house that run into the kitchen any second from now. And just as you were thinking that you heard her.

“I’m ready!” her voice traveled around the house from the living room to the kitchen, making you and Mat instantly stop kissing. There was a moment of silence and you looked at each other before you broke out in laughter. 

“That’s our cue.” you said freeing yourself from Mat’s embrace. Then you opened the microwave to get the popcorn out as Mat handed you the bowl you had set aside earlier. As soon as you put the popcorn in said bowl Mat’s hand was reaching to grab some.

“Don’t.” You jokingly slapped his hand which made him look at you with furrowed brows. “It’s still hot, you’ll burn yourself.”

“I already kissed you and I’m fine so...” he said with the cheekiest smile, making you roll your eyes at the cheesy comment. Then grabbed some quickly taking it to his mouth, only to start groaning in pain one second later.

“I told you it was hot Mathew. I thought I’d be babysitting one 5-year-old today, not two.”

“I didn’t think it would be that hot-” he started to defend himself but was cut off.

“When are you coming?!” Amy shouted again.

“We’re going! We’re going!” you replied between giggles, grabbing the bowl with one hand and Mat with the other and making you way back to the living room.

When you made it to the room you found 2 stuffed animals carefully placed in the couch facing the tv and Amy next to them wrapped around the Frozen blanket you had gifted her not too long ago.

“I see you have everything ready.” you said placing the bowl on the coffee table.

“Mat sits next Sammy and Eddie.” she pointed out signaling Mat to sit between a stuffed dolphin and a cat, which he instantly did. “And aunty sits with Eddie and me.”

You bit your lip trying to hold in your laughter as you took your seat between your niece and the stuffed cat she had obviously placed there intentionally so you wouldn’t be next to Mat. But the moment he looked at you lifting his eyebrows in amusement a giggle escaped your lips. 

“What’s funny?” Amy asked watching as the two of you exchanged looks.

“Nothing, nothing. Let’s watch the movie.” you replied, grabbing the control and starting the movie. Amy snuggled to your side and you could feel Mat’s arm behind your head as he stretched it on the back of the couch.

Within 20 minutes Amy was already asleep with her head in your chest and your left arm wrapped around her holding her close. That’s when you decided to put away the stuffed cat that served as a barrier. Mat looked at you confused, not wanting to do anything that could make the little girl dislike him.

“She’s asleep.” you whispered to him, he had been too focused on the movie to notice. “Sorry about Eddie the cat, she can be a little territorial.” you explained making Mat smile.

You tapped the new empty seat next to you signaling him to move closer and Mat scooted over to your side, placing his arm around you as you gently nestled into his side, trying not to wake Amy up. 

“And sorry about tonight, I know this isn’t what you had planed.” you said turning you head to face him.

“Stop apologizing Y/N. I have you by my side, that’s all I need.” he told you and even though his face was barely visible, poorly lit only by the light emitted by the tv, you could see a certain spark in his eyes that showed you how honest he was being. “Also this movie is actually great.” he added, making you laugh.

“You’re earning a lot of points tonight Barzal.” you said stretching your neck to kiss him briefly before cuddling back to his side. He then placed a kiss on the top of your head and went back to watch the movie, which he was clearly enjoying.

Lili arrived at her house over an hour later. She wasn’t surprised when she opened the door to a completely silent house, expecting you to have put Amy to bed by then. However she was surprised when she walked into her living room only to find the three of you asleep on the couch.

Amy had changed position and now was laying on the couch, still wrapped in her blanket, with her head laying on your lap as your arm was placed over her. Mat and you hadn’t moved that much, his arm still wrapped around your shoulders and your head on his chest, but now his head was resting on top of yours, moving your hair a bit with every deep breath he took.

Lili smiled to herself as he took in the scene. This was actually the first time she had seen Mat in person, but she was not mad at all, she actually found it quite cute. 

She carefully lifted her daughter in her arms, trying not to wake neither of you up. Amy’s arms instantly wrapped around her neck as she watched you unconsciously snuggle further into Mat’s chest now that Amy had left your side.

Needless to say you and Mat woke up the next morning really confused, not even remembering falling asleep the night before, and with terrible neck pain, but you woke up next to each other which was enough to make it a good morning.

-

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@spencereidbasis @2manytabsopen @spencereidbasis @bbbbruins @softbarzal @dreamer1430 @matsbarzals @hockeyandsht @barzysandmarnersbitch @shawnsreputation @glassdanse @tazeboes @barbienoturbby

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[miss-smutty]

A/N- I've been dubious about writing Thor but I just had to do this, it's been running around my mind for weeks 🙈 I'll be adding this to my Valentine's One-Shot series

Summary- You've been stood up, on valentine's Day or all days. At least you won't be spending the night alone, now Thor finally has you to himself.

Word count- 1, 806

Pairing- Thor x you

Warnings- Swearing, smut, unprotected sex

18+ Only!

Posted: 10th February 2021

⚡ Bolts of Pleasure ⚡

You leant your head on the cold, marble worktop - the coolness easing the pressure of the already lingering tension head ache. How could he stand you up? Today of all day's. 

Somewhere in the distance, over the sound of your own thoughts, you barely hear the sound of the main door sliding open. Nonchalantly wondering who it could be, you knew it wasn't Tony because he was out at dinner with Pepper and you knew this because you were supposed to be there too - a double date. 

Something Pepper had organised because she was the one who set you up with that prick in the first place - you can't even bring yourself to say his name. You should've known dating anyone who wasn't involved in anything within the headquarters would end in trouble anyway.

You assumed the other couples would be out doing other romantic bullshit while you were sure all the other guys were on a mission. So who the hell could it be? 

The kitchen doors opened behind you and by the sounds of the unmistakably heavy foot fall, it was definitely Thor. Neither of you said anything for a noticeably long pause, you didn't even bother to move your head off of the kitchen worktop.

"You do know it's the day of the valentine's, don't you?" Comes Thors booming voice from behind you, trust him to state the obvious.

"Valentine's Day and yes of course I do, why do you think I'm here? Alone. Banging my head against the counter." 

"Please don't do that, I don't want you to hurt yourself" he says with a sincerity in his voice.

"Sarcasm just goes straight over your head doesn't it?" You say, finally standing up to face Thor just so he could see you rolling your eyes at him. You know the statement would be lost to him if he couldn't see your facial expressions.

"Not much can go over my head without me seeing it first, but yes if you say so" ok so even seeing your facial expression didn't work this time. You laugh out loud at his lack of understanding.

"Oh Thor, you do know how to cheer me up" 

"Good. Now you may proceed with your head banging if you so wish" 

Have you always found his ditziness to be so cute or is this a new occurance?

"I'm going to put my head back down but only because I have a banging headache, these pills should kick in soon. Besides now you're here you might as well keep me company" This made Thor smile from ear to ear as you resumed your earlier position.

Unbeknownst to you Thor had walked in to the room to find you bent over, your delicious ass accentuated by those tight leather trousers you were wearing. He'd been hoping to find you here alone, once he'd heard about you being stood up, but wasn't quite sure how to handle how he found you. If he had his way he would have just walked over and made his move straight away but he'd been taught how things work differently here and he's been working so hard on his restraint.

Now you're bent over again and it's making his mind go blank, all he can think about is how he wants to shove his dick into you while he grabs on to those voluptuous cheeks. 

"Thor?" You ask wondering why he's still stood by the doors.

Fuck, the way you say his name makes his fingertips tingle with bolts of electrical current. He wants to hear you scream his name while he's pulling your hair back and slamming his dick between those cheeks until he's balls deep. 

"Your trousers are very tight" You hear Thor's footsteps stop behind you and before you can mutter something about him stating the obvious a moan escapes your lips as a slight bolt of electric soars through your core. Where did that come from? 

Thor still hadn't quite got to grips with controlling his power while he was in the moment - maybe something to do with all the testosterone. His eyes widened, shocked by your reaction but the way he elicited that moan spurred him to continue.

Thor's hands were still gripping your ass as you got your bearings, realising where the shock came from and not hating the idea. You wanted more.

Moving his hands to your hips as you pushed yourself on to his straining cock, gripping on tightly while he pushed himself against you - his head hanging back as he bit his bottom lip and felt the lightning electrify his body.

Fuck me. If you knew sex with Thor would be this amazing you would've made sure it happened a lot sooner. You could feel his body tingling, like a vibration as the currents circulated through his veins,

flowing with the blood into his rather large appendige.

Thor slapped your ass again, accidentally catching your slit with his fingertips. Your pussy clenched as another bolt of pleasure went through you.

"Shit, Thor" you moaned deeply making him groan with desperation.

He's wanted to hear you saying his name, like that, for a while now and isn't disappointed with the way it sounds falling from your lips. Now he won't stop until your screaming his name, begging for him to fuck you into oblivion.

You pushed yourself against his now rock hard cock craving the feel of him inside of you. The vibration hits your clit and sends you over the edge, making you tremble and your knees go weak as you come, hard. Feeling dizzy as you come down.

Thor catches you as you buckle, turning you around and pushing you up against the counter. Your eyes are hooded with need as he handles your body, gripping at your curves with his electric fingers.

Your body jerks everytime he touches you, little does he know that with every touch your pussy clenches building up that deep orgasm once again. Thor's powers leave other men at a major disadvantage, how can anyone ever live up to this. Even worse, how can you now be around Thor without thinking about what he can do to you every time you see him.

His hand travels hungrily up your top, straight to your nipples while his lips attach to yours. You can feel his facial hair tickling your upper lip, a whole new sensation to your already tingling body.

Thor takes your tender, erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Squeezing gently as he emits tiny shocks and watches as you convulse around him, small, soft whimpers leaving your mouth involuntarily.

"Mmm, Thor. Fuck" you can't stand the tension much longer.

He's in awe with how much he can pleasure you with just the touch of his fingers. If he'd known it would be this easy to make your usual fiesty self, submit so easily, he wouldn't have been quite so intimidated by you. Look at you now, quivering under his touch, he's pretty sure your seconds away from fully giving yourself to him. He stops touching you, waiting to see how you'll react, testing his theory.

"Don't stop" you moan, pushing your heat against him as his hands grab your ass.

"Tell me what you want, my love" he whispers seductively against your ear, almost making you come.

"Oh god, do that again" you whine into his neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and savouring the other worldly scent of the god of thunder.

"Do what? My sweet - " his breath tickles your ear as he whispers again, he knows exactly what you want. Nibbling gently on your earlobe as you struggle to hold up the weight of your head, crumbling beneath him. " - Now, tell me what you want" 

"I want you. Fuck me Thor, fuck me hard" leaning back on your hands with your lips parted.

"I thought you'd never ask" he growls, his voice becoming impossibily deeper.

Trying to pull down those tight trousers is going to take way too long and he doesn't have the patience for that. Instead he reaches out and effortlessly slits the gusset in half. Unable to contain himself when he sees how wet you are.

You reach down to unbuckle his belt, he's watching you intently, his cock straining against his trousers. You pull them down, just enough to watch his cock spring up, with a weapon like that he has no need for the Mjolnir. You instinctively want to take it in your mouth but there's no time for that now. You lean backwards, watching as he lines his cock up with your entrance. He stops, pausing for an agonisingly long time, watching your face screw with need.

Thor can see how much you want him and he's savouring the moment, relishing in it. Not forgetting how he wants to hear you beg for him, waiting patiently. 

You look at him expectantly, grinding yourself forward until you can feel the tip of his cock. 

"Thor, please!" You plead embarrassingly, desperately.

That's all he needed to hear before he painfully, slowly eased himself into your tight pussy. Inhaling deeply as your walls clamped around him. Finally feeling the warmth of your insides, a feeling he's been craving since the first time he met you.

You laid back on to the counter while he gripped your thighs, holding them up as he slammed his cock deep into you, the pressure building as he relentlessly pounds you. Those bolts of pleasure sending shocks shooting through your veins, with every thrust.

Thor held onto your thighs tightly, gripping his thumbs into your flesh while he ravages you. Months and months of pent up frustration finally being released. Grunting as he thrusted the brutal strength of his passion into you with force, loving the way your face contorts with every hit of your spot.

"Thor!" You scream his name as you gush all over his cock when he hits your spot, hard, repeatedly.

Your finally screaming his name, hopefully not for the last time. He watches the way your third orgasm builds, clenching around him as your legs shake in his hands.

How could it be the only time, when this is what he does to you? You're a dripping mess by the time he's ready. The gripping sensation rising as your climaxes peak again, releasing sparks of lightning all around you. Pushing his cock deep inside you as he shoots his warm, powerful load into you.

Your hair clings to your face as you fall back onto the counter, your body feels like jelly and you can't move just yet. Your eyes are closed but you can feel Thor still holding your legs while he waits for you to recover, gently tickling your thighs with his thumb.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time, would you be willing to make love with me again?" He says smiling widely, hardly breathelss at all - the stamina of a god! 

"You can do that again?" You say breathlessly, impressed with his enthusiasm.

"I can go all night, my love. I am the god of thunder" he says proudly, puffing out his chest. 

"You certainly are" 

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Christmas Figurines and Mistletoe | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.4k

✦ request — Could you write something about being caught under the mistletoe with Damian Wayne? Fluffy and really mutty.

✦ warnings — nsfw, reader has a vagina, making out, vaginal sex, pouty Damian, jealousy if you squint, fluff.

✦ author’s note — I assumed anon meant smutty instead of mutty.

════════════════════════

Damian was driving you crazy. And not the good kind of crazy. You were regretting staying at Titan Tower instead of going Christmas shopping with your friends.

You had assumed they would need the bonding moment on their own. They would spend Christmas at the tower while you would do so at home, it was only fair.

The problem was that you didn’t think Damian would come to the tower so early. He had said he’d come by that evening to make sure everything was perfect for the Christmas party you all convinced him to throw.

He hated almost everything. And you were terrified of showing him the Christmas tree because it was... a lot.

Explaining to him that Christmas was supposed to be colorful and that meant things looking tacky here and there would be pointless. He had been clear on what he didn’t want to see.

Damian clenched his jaw as he stood in front of the tree. “Why are the lights off?”

“The Tower’s empty.”

“You are here,” he said drily. “What did you do?”

You immediately defended yourself, “I didn’t do anything! I wasn’t here when the tree was decorated. You sent Jon and me on that quick mission, remember?”

Damian grunted, nodding. To your horror, he lit the tree up himself. A strange sound spluttered from his throat, and he turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Damian, come on! It’s cheerful.”

“Who was the genius who decided that colorful lights and colorful ornaments were a good look?”

“I don’t know... Christmas trees come from a German tradition, and—“

He interrupted you, exasperated, “This specific tree!”

You shrugged. The tree had already been decorated when you came back, just like the kitchen.

Oh, the kitchen. Damian hated it, it looked cluttered according to him.

He picked a ceramic figurine and examined it. “This is the sloppiest paint job I’ve ever seen.”

“Most figurines come like that. Or with deformed faces.”

He placed it back in its place, turning around to examine you. “I find it interesting,” he mused, dragging his eyes to the microwave which was decorated by a Christmas themed microwave cover, “that you seem to know a lot about figurines and their flaws.”

“I didn’t buy them if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You bought Christmas mugs for everybody.”

“Yes, but I didn’t buy those!” Seeing him incredulously lift his eyebrows, you groaned. “Look, those figurines are common in most households. My mom loves them. That’s it, that’s how I know how flawed the come.”

“What will you do if I inspect your bedroom and more of those ugly things are there?”

You slanted your head, making a motion for him to exit the kitchen with you. “Come. Inspect it.”

You lead the way, more relieved than exasperated. He would drop it once he realized you didn’t have anything to do with it, he always did.

Before he could cross the kitchen’s doorway, Damian halted his steps behind you, grasping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You turned around, now confused.

He looked up to the top of the doorframe. His eyes stayed there and he remained silent which prompted you to look up too.

You shifted as mistletoe came to view. “I— I didn’t put that there... I didn’t even know somebody had bought it!” You attempted to move, hoping he would drop his hands. When he didn’t, you said, “I’ll get it off.”

Damian’s grip on your hips tightened. “Not following the tradition would bring us bad luck,” he explained with ease.

Your stomach flipped. Damian wasn’t superstitious.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you’re right.”

You half-expected a comment along the lines of ‘I’m always right,’ but instead, he slowly leaned in. You did the same, meeting him in the middle. His lashes brushed your skin when his eyes lidded closed, prompting yours to flutter.

He kissed you softly, taking his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong. You tentatively placed your hands on his arms, ever so slightly tilting your head.

Pulling away, you nervously watched him. Damian slowly opened his eyes, not helping your case and making you feel giddy as he gazed at you.

He brought you in for another kiss, resting his lower back against the counter. Damian swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and you eagerly opened your mouth for him.

His pleased hum sent shivers down your spine. As if it wasn’t enough to have you breathless, his hands lightly wandered to your back. His touch and kiss didn’t match in rhythm, and it only drove you crazier.

One of his hands fell onto your ass, then the other. You instinctively pushed your hips forward, hands flying to his shoulders. He grasped your asscheeks in both hands and pulled your hips flush against his.

A low whimper left your mouth, going directly down his throat as he swallowed it by kissing you harder.

He pushed you back. Assuming he needed space, you withdrew your hands from his shoulders. Damian briefly frowned, yet his grip tightened on you as he tried a different approach by walking you backward instead of pushing you.

“I still need to inspect your room,” he said, voice low as he analyzed your reaction.

You didn’t trust your voice so you merely nodded. It would have been easier to walk to your room by yourself, or with his hands still on you but actually looking where you were stepping.

The thought of walking slowly so you could savor the weight of his hands on your body was tempting. But Damian hated wasting time. And slow walkers.

Your room was underwhelming in comparison to your teammates’, in part because you didn’t have time to decorate and in part because you didn’t know what to do with the empty wall near the window therefore you couldn’t make up your mind about anything else.

“You can open any drawer you want,” you told him, ready to put the moment you had just shared to the side.

Damian gave you an incredulous look upon realizing you were being serious.

His eyes were as green as ever, watching you carefully as though he expected you to read his mind. Not for the first time, you wished you could.

His hands twitched on your ass. One of them softly caressed the area, drawing random patterns on your clothed asscheek.

“You can’t possibly think I brought you here to look for a stupid Christmas ornament.”

“So you brought me to my bedroom just to make out?”

”Let’s go with that,” he conceded. “I didn’t want us to be interrupted.”

“Can’t let the team know about your crush on me?” you teased him before you could fully realize what you were saying. It was fun banter, meaningless.

Damian turned serious. “I’m certain they know by now, but I would rather not get caught groping your ass in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Wait... so you hung the mistletoe?”

“No. But I’m not above admitting I should thank whoever did it.” He firmly rested his hands on your ass, pushing his hips against yours. “Now, can we stop talking?”

“Sure.” You kissed him this time, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Soon, he had you on his lap as he sat on your bed, humping him while he kissed your neck. He inched your sweater up, brushing your belly with his fingertips.

“I want you,” you whined, aware that he would leave marks on your neck.

“I’m here,” he deadpanned, nipping at your throat as he continued lifting your sweater.

You stopped moving your hips, lightly shifting on his lap in order for your hands to reach his belt. He didn’t stop you, so you went on and unbuckled his belt before undoing his pants.

Damian made you stand up, not for a moment taking his hands off you. In contrast, your neck already missed his plump lips.

He undid your jeans in a hurry, lowering them down your knees along with your panties.

Bluntly, he asked, “You need me to finger you first?”

Feeling your face heat up as he intensely gazed at you in expectancy of an answer, you pulled one of your hands off his body and parted your folds.

You found embarrassing how wet he made you. Only able to shake your head, you avoided looking at him directly.

“Use your words,” he commanded softly.

“No,” you whispered. He shuffled, lifting his hips to get rid of his pants and boxers. The gesture made your skin tingle, and as you kicked your shoes and jeans off, you added, “I don’t need you to finger me.”

Hissing, Damian held his cock for you, looking down as you placed your palm on top of the back of his hand. Your hand replaced his, and you softly caressed his cock.

“Condom?”

He stretched his arm, slanting his body to the side as he reached for his wallet. He handed the condom to you without a word, throwing his wallet onto the floor.

Once you had rolled the condom down his cock, his gaze lifted. You straddled him again, slowly gliding down. A groan spurted from within him as you took your time to push inch after inch of his cock inside you.

Damian’s eyes were on your face, refusing to lose any detail of your reaction as he entered you for the first time.

You moaned, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He held you by the waist, holding his breath as you ever so slightly drove your hips forward.

The more you moved, the less he cared about whether he was loud or not. There hadn’t been signs of the team coming back, but you were certain Damian wouldn’t have cared either way.

He began moving his hips at your rhythm, only prompting you to roll your hips more enthusiastically as you sucked on his neck.

You tried to push him to lay down on the bed, but he stopped you, speaking softly. “Wait. It’s hot in here.”

Feeling empty as you moved away from his lap in order to get rid of your remaining clothes, you entertained yourself by admiring his body as he did the same.

Damian grabbed your hand, bringing you on top of him as he laid on his back. He kissed you, holding the back of your head with a hand as the other rested on your lower back.

Such placement made it extremely easy for him to roll you over so he could be on top, and the distraction his lips bestowed upon you a calculated move.

“Meanie,” you lightheartedly panted on his mouth.

He huffed a laugh, giving you a short kiss. “You seem to like it.” Damian dragged the tip of his cock along your folds, briefly teasing you before shoving it inside you.

He caressed your thighs as he started to thrust in slow strokes, teasing you some more as he controlled his breath.

Bottoming out, Damian tightened his grip on your thighs. He rolled his hips, and by your request started going faster.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, whimpering freely. This time you were the one who didn’t care if the tower was still empty.

His mouth hovered over yours. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, and by the way he was smiling at you, he surely knew.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he told you, lips brushing against yours. “Even more beautiful than in my imagination.”

You canted your hips up, desperate for more. More of him, of his voice, of everything he was willing to give.

And he granted you such wishes, picking up his pace, kissing you, gripping your thighs just the way you liked it even though he had no way to know.

Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to have him closer. It was impossible to do so, yet you had to give it a try.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you announced.

As though your words had been a demand for him to make you come already, he pressed his fingers on your clit and started rubbing as he thrust inside you.

Tired and spent, you felt his weight fall on top of your front. Damian kissed the side of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

Eventually, you softly pushed him off you and begrudgingly left the bed in direction to the bathroom.

You were washing your legs with the showerhead when Damian entered the bathroom. “There are clean towels in the second drawer if you also want to wash yourself,” you informed him.

He opened said drawer as you shut the water. He didn’t make any move for a moment, but he took a clean towel nonetheless.

You patted your skin dry, moving out of his way so he could use the shower.

“You had condoms here,” he observed.

“Well, I didn’t know which type of condom you preferred...”

“Oh, are those somebody else’s preferred ones?”

You slipped a clean pair of panties on. He watched you. “Please tell me you’re not actually angry because of this.”

“Your shower gel smells nice,” he opted for saying.

You hummed. “It’s new. I got tired of the blue one.”

Giving him privacy, you exited the bathroom and decided to check the mattress in case you needed to change the bedding.

Back in your bedroom, Damian silently put his boxers back on. He didn’t bother with his pants nor his shirt.

“I’m not angry,” he finally stopped avoiding the subject.

You tried not to frown. “You’re pouting.”

His expression turned blank. “I don’t pout.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Come to the Christmas party with me.”

“I’ll be at the party either way.”

“Yes,” he gritted before inhaling deeply. “But I want you to be with me. As my date.”

“What would the difference be?” You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. “We know everybody already.”

“For one, it would help me sleep at night.” He took you by the face with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Your voice sounded weird due to the pressure of his fingers on your cheeks

Damian gave you a sweet kiss, loosening his grip on your face to cup your cheek. You softly placed your hand on the back of his head, giving him another kiss. And another, and another, until you lost count.

[dynyamight]

fluffy prompts! 211 please! :) -sneakers <3

send me a writting ask

211. We’re a team, remember?

If he had the option, Midoriya would prefer to patrol alone.

And, everyone seems to be baffled about it.

“Can you blame us? You don’t look like the lone wolf type, you know.” Shinsou had mentioned before, back in the locker rooms.

Blinking, Midoriya tilted his head over to him, a few lockers away. “I didn’t know lone wolves had a look.”

“They don’t. But, if they did, they wouldn’t look like you.” Shinsou sighed, bringing a towel up to his neck. He dabbed gingerly at the sweat. “Though, I guess with your power, you wouldn’t need another person to weigh you down.”

“It’s not about power. I just don’t want to drag anyone into immense danger.” Midoriya admitted, slipping his arms out of his hero costume.

Immediately, he felt a sharp jolt of pain cease his arms. He winced, looking down at the stitches around his shoulders, now tightened, fresh, and sensitive.

The wound, as well as the others littering his body, are reminders of that danger he worries for others. Each fight is with a different villain, varying in strength and quirk. But, they all have the same intentions when battling Midoriya.

Enemies want him dead. Simple as that.

Sometimes, even everyday people wish him dead.

And, it’s the type of danger he wouldn’t want anyone to face.

Shinsou shrugged, having tossed his wraps in his locker. “You say that, but all heroes are bound to be in danger, at some point. Aren’t they?”

“That’s not—“

Midoriya halts, immobilized. At first, he worries the new frozen sensation is an enemy quirk activating, from their recent shift on the clock. He instantly cursed himself for not being attentive.

But, a split second later, he realized from the tooth eating grin from Shinsou, that it was actually his doing.

He had been in the middle of unbuckling his utility belt. So much for that.

“Life and death. It’s the real game we’re all playing out in the city.” Shinsou stated, buttoning up his civilian clothes. “And, you swear you are its only player, Midoriya.”

The spell finally broke. Finally able to regain his movements, Midoriya gasped a deep, willful breath. “I-I just don’t want anyone to worry about me.”

“Worrying is a part of teamwork.” Shinsou insisted, shaking his head, “If we didn’t worry, then everyone would be reckless, without a care in the world. People wouldn’t care, and then, there would be no sense of compassion, anywhere.”

Pulling off his stirrups, Midoriya weakly laughed, unable to say anything else.

Yeah, that seems to be something he does too often, than not. Reckless. Spontaneous. Relying on gut feeling.

But, Midoriya cares, he does. Just, maybe not the way the rest of the world does.

So willing to give himself, grow tired and weak. When others just want him to rest.

Midoriya left shortly after that. He felt a little guilty, leaving Shinsou earlier than usual. He hoped his friend knew that he appreciated his advice, as well as his honest truth.

However, he had lost the will to continue the rather self-exposing conversation. Besides, the exhaustion always settles into his bones, the moment he stops moving and starts thinking.

Alas, he has a long way back home; clock out of the agency building, take the elevator, walk to the train station, street stop, and up the elevator to his apartment.

Which leads him to now; standing outside his apartment complex, shivering under nothing, but a hoodie and sweats.

His teeth chatter, behind his face mask, as he tries to jiggle the keys inside. The winter night breeze burning his nose cold.

A click resounds his brain, and relief washes over him. The moment he steps inside, the guard he feels, tight in his shoulders, drops finally. Closing the door gently from behind, Midoriya lets out a long needed sigh.

Home. He’s back home.

Quietly, Midoriya offers a pardon of intrusion, as he shuffles his shoes off at the front. He sets down his work duffle bag on the floor, mentally promising to wash his hero costume and the undergarments, early in the morning.

He wishes he could at least put them in the washer. But, the weight of his eyelids feel so heavy; he stumbles into his bedroom simply on instinct, rather than sight.

Slowly, Midoriya pushes the cracked door open. With quiet footsteps, he walks to the bed, towards one open space, ready for his arrival.

The other space was filled, obvious by the big lump of covers right beside it.

Lifting the bedsheets, Midoriya simply worms himself inside. He makes sure to leave a gap between him and the occupied space, as to not alert his presence. He even makes sure to keep his chilled toes curled, towards himself.

It was futile. The body shifts, and suddenly, a tired, glaring pair of red eyes look at him. “..Took you long enough.”

Midoriya’s heart tightens, feeling bad. “Ah, it was supposed to be a double shift, but then, they needed me for an extra team up. Everything changed at the last minute.”

Twelve hours, out roaming the city. And, then, a whole team mission added on top of all of that. More or less, two days out in the city. Draining didn’t even cover the amount of tired he felt.

“Tch. ‘Course you did..” Under the covers, a warm pair of arms outreach towards Midoriya. They wrap around his waist. “Had me fucking waiting.”

Midoriya smiles, bringing his own body closer to the warmth of limbs. Cold and hot legs entangled together. Arms at each other’s waist. Foreheads touching.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait, Kacchan. Sorry.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

He hears Bakugou click his tongue, before there’s a hard pinch at his cheek. Midoriya whines at the pain, but Bakugou pays no mind.

“Send a damn text, next time.” Bakugou hisses.

“Okay, okay! My face s’hurting, Kacchan.”

He doesn’t need to see Bakugou’s intense glare; he can feel it staring right at the space between his brows. However, instead there’s a soothing hand that runs through Midoriya’s curls. “Gross. You’re freezing as hell, and you didn’t even shower, either?”

Midoriya shakes his head. “I will do it later.” He sleepily says.

“And your clothes?”

“..Will do it later.”

Bakugou growls, and Midoriya mentally prepares for the onslaught of curses and complaints at his lazy attitude.

But, it never happens. Instead, Bakugou pulls himself closer to Midoriya, head nestled in the crook of his neck. “S’fine.” He huffs.

“I swear I will do it tomorrow morning.” Midoriya offers weakly.

“Don’t bother.” Bakugou breath tickles around Midoriya’s ears. “Sleep in. I’ll do it.”

“No, please. I will—“

“Did I fucking stutter?” Bakugou mutters, and there’s a small pull at his ear. “I said don’t bother. And, I mean it.”

“Then, I will make breakfast.”

“No.”

“..How about lunch?”

“I said no.”

“Kacchan, please—“

“Fucking hell, go to sleep!” Bakugou yells into his ear, tightening his grip around Midoriya. “Just— I got all of tomorrow. Sleep.”

Midoriya shrugs against the embrace, heart feeling heavy. “I can do it all, too.”

“M’not saying you can’t. I know you can.” Bakugou whispers, running his fingers through his curls again, “But, you keep forgetting that you don’t have do shit alone all the damn time.”

“I just prefer—“

“To do it all on your own. Yeah. I fucking know.” Bakugou sighs, “But, we’re—“

There’s a moment of hesitation, obvious on Bakugou’s end. However, after a deep breath out, Bakugou wills himself to speak. “..We’re a team, remember?”

Midoriya’s face reddens instantly. A team. That’s another way to put it.

Dating. They’re dating. Almost a year now.

And, Bakugou even remotely mentioning it never fails to make Midoriya feel the fanny flutters all over again.

“Y-Yeah.” Midoriya barely voices, wobbly smiling, “We are.”

“Then, let me do shit.” Bakugou mutters, his face feeling hot against Midoriya’s neck, “Let me be there for you.”

“You don’t have to..” Midoriya insists feebly.

“I ain’t doing it out of force. Even if it’s just for one day, I want to help you.”

Sighing, Midoriya brings his hand to Bakugou’s chin, lifting up his head. Their gazes meet. “You mean that?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “God, how much more do I got to fucking spell it out to you? Yes.”

Letting a soft snort, Midoriya inches his face close. “It’s like you love me, or something.” He teases.

“Shut it.” However, there’s a slight upturn in the corners of Bakugou’s lips. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Midoriya smiles back. “Thank you for putting up with me, Kacchan.”

“You put up with my shit, just as much.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Yeah, but I have problems.”

“Don’t we all.”

Midoriya laughs feebly, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, losing the strength to keep them open any longer. “Thank you for worrying about me..” He plants a small kiss onto Bakugou’s lips, before settling his head onto his shoulders.

“Hah? Who said anything about ‘worry’? I ain’t fucking worried.” Bakugou growls, “Never have been. Never will be.”

But, Midoriya knows better. Especially with how close Bakugou holds him, and the way he continues to rub a comforting hand onto his back, making sure to avoid his stitched shoulder.

Warming him up. Lulling him to sleep. Allowing him to let go of all his stresses.

Midoriya smiles himself to sleep.

[ushidoux]

Hesitant (Ushijima x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 3350 words (I can’t believe I wrote this much)

Summary: You find out why Ushijima has been a little hesistant about things getting too steamy between you. NSFW.

A/N: This is awkward af and quite cracky but hopefully in an endearing way.

---

Ushijima Wakatoshi was essentially perfect.

Just the right amount of unexpectedly charming and unintentionally hilarious, the man had a way of tugging at your heartstrings with even the most basic gestures. The way he reached for your hand instinctively when you met up with him after your college courses, the softening of his usual glower as he turned in your direction in response to your voice calling his name, or the short but sweet morning texts - all things that made your heart swell for him.

He was straightforward and most importantly, explicit with his actions from the very first moment you got involved. You never got the impression you were being strung along and despite how hyperaware you were about the ills of the current dating landscape, not once did you consider the possibility of getting ghosted or benched.

Weeks then months passed and you fell fast for him. You were in love.

In love with everything: his facial expressions, whether serious or smiling, his dedication to his craft, his warm, large hands, the timbre of his voice and the way it softened especially for you...

He was perfect.

But when your third month anniversary (not that you were keeping track, of course) came and passed and you had not yet had that kind of intimacy, you could no longer ignore the ache in your core he left you with after his lips parted from you minutes into a deep, passionate kiss...

Or worse - when he came from behind and held you tightly around the waist, the familiar but not-familiar-enough bulge between his legs pressing against your lower back and demanding your attention in a different way Toshi did.

In mere moments, every touch went from wanted and appreciated to craved and needed, and it began to hurt.

Why was he holding back?

“T-toshi?” You mumbled, interrupting your makeout session by pulling back from him as far as you could with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Mm…?” His eyes connected to yours then slid back down to your lips, wanting, waiting for you to continue. Was he actually listening? You weren’t quite sure, but his hold on your hips firmed, keeping you steadily settled in his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, making sure to keep you close, and you could feel his heartbeat, slightly quickened as he waited for you to speak.

You wished he would look at you when you asked this next question but instead you pressed your cheek to his.

“Do you find me attractive?”

Your voice came out somewhere between soft and assertive, and you could feel Ushijima tense ever so slightly before straightening his back so that he was looking straight at you. His hands didn’t move from where they rested on your side and he remained very still, as he did often when he was unsure of what to do next.

His face remained unreadable and the behavior didn’t reassure you.

“Well, do you?” You pressed, your voice smaller this time.

“Why do you think otherwise?”

His deep voice was almost as quiet as yours, and he sounded almost apologetic. You felt a small weight land in the pit of your stomach, embarrassed to have made the mood so awful. But you couldn’t help what you wanted. You could feel that familiar heat rising within the space between your legs, and your breathing was getting quicker and raspier, and his hands had been roaming... A large hand had slipped under your shirt, then under your brassiere to palm and caress a breast, and suddenly his tongue was down your throat, and you knew soon he would stop and you would be left to smile and bite your lip while he hastily made up an excuse to leave.

Was it you? Was it him?

Your arms slowly slid down from around Ushijima’s neck and dropped into your lap. A small frown crossed his face very briefly in response and he gently withdrew his hands from where they held you.

You sat quietly together for a moment as you attempted to formulate words to express how you felt. Horny? Yes. Desired? You weren’t sure, and that was the issue.

“Sometimes, I feel like…,” you trailed off, carefully scrutinizing Ushijima’s face for a reaction. He continued to watch you cautiously, and you grimaced before continuing. Confrontation wasn’t your strong point, but communication was a must.

“I feel like things escalate and then… stop.” You paused there, and he tilted his head slightly. You mentally scolded yourself, knowing very well that you weren’t doing a great job of making sense, but in that surprisingly intuitive way of his, he seemed to know exactly what you meant.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he said, slowly.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you repeated, warmth flooding your cheeks once again. “U-unless you’re not ready to, you know, have sex... I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to coerce you into doing something that you don’t want to do, I just-”

You were interrupted by Ushijima’s hands finding their way back onto your hips again, and then standing you up completely straight so that he could rise to his full height. Seeing him tower over you now suddenly, you swallowed hard once. He could be so intimidating without meaning to, even if he was unequivocally sweet with you.

He let out a wistful sigh and ran a hand through his hair with his eyes closed before refocusing his gaze back onto you - you who were now standing awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs as you waited for him to decide to either tell you he was interested in touching and kissing but not outright having sex with you (but maybe some day!) or to just walk out the door never to be seen again without even bothering with an explanation.

Instead, he suddenly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, to your surprise.

“Wait, Toshi! Now?” You almost shrieked as he almost hastily undressed his lower half in the middle of your apartment without a single qualm. He was already unfastening his belt before he stopped to look at you - a good thing because your heart was now beating so fast in your chest, you were sure you were going to become lightheaded enough to pass out.

“We can if you want to. I’ve wanted to for a while now,” he replied, and to those simple words, your heart started to flutter and both elated and aroused you were again.

“The problem is, I was, and still am, a little worried that I might hurt you,” he started, and you wondered why he would be concerned about such a thing up until his pants dropped to his ankles, and your eyes grew wide as you realized what the limiting factor may have been. No wonder he had been avoiding sex for so long.

“I’m a bit large down there, it turns out.”

Large is an understatement, you thought, your eyes glued helplessly to the thing hanging between his legs. For the second time tonight, you swallowed hard - for once, you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

---

One very efficient store trip, a couple extra-large condoms, and a generous amount of lube later, you knelt across from Ushijima onto your large bed, your heart pounding again. Both of you were now stripped down to the bare flesh and while you wanted to drool over the sight of his bare chest and indulge in the feeling of his weight pressed against your body, you found yourself movement paralyzed, unsure of what to do next.

You had felt silly asking him to redress again so you could go out and buy supplies, but the truth was you needed time to come up with a game plan. Anyone who saw that monster cock for the first time would take a pause. Would you be able to take all of that? Could anyone take all of that?

“___, are you okay? You’re staring.”

You were trying to figure out if the condoms would fit him, then thanked the heavens that you were on the pill anyway if the condoms broke by any chance. When he waved his hand in your face, you were brought back into the reality of the here and now. You nodded, but the thinly veiled distress on your always expressive face was starting to remind him of the many locker room jokes and nicknames he’d endured once he’d reached the end of puberty.

Spear Ushijima was the first to come to mind and he grimaced, then rested back into a sitting position, cross-legged on the bed.

“We don’t have to do anything, I understand.” he said, flatly. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed it, concerned that he would look too upset. He smiled now instead to mask his disappointment and reached his arms out for you.

“We can cuddle. Oh, but if you would prefer that I put my clothes back on, I could do that too,” he said hurriedly, getting up to make his way off the bed, but you interrupted him by moving close and pressing a hand on his chest.

“Wait.”

And his surprised expression turned to another smile, more genuine this time, and he relaxed into your touch.

“___,” he whispered your name softly. You smiled, then keeping your eyes in fierce contact with his, you reached down to wrap your fingers around his considerable length. Even only semi-hard, the girth was impressive and you could feel the warmth shuttling in as he became aroused. His mouth parted just slightly in surprise.

“Are you sure?” His voice was already thick with lust.

“Yes,” you whispered, “but we’ll have to take it slow.” You added a smile to that last part and leaned forward to peck him on the lips once before you started to stroke him up and down his shaft.

He let out a soft moan and leaned back, watching you carefully as you worked your hand up and down his penis. You could tell he was trying very hard to keep still and let things run at your pace, and you relished in the opportunity fully.

“That… feels really good, ____,” he offered, his voice low and husky, and encouraged by his words, you added another hand, offering a few more pumps to his length before the piece de resistance to your lovely handjob, the application of your soft lips to his waiting cockhead.

He was already leaking a little precum, you could tell by the salt on your tongue as you licked at the slit at the tip of his member. He let out a low groan, and you could feel his muscles tense beneath you as he rose quickly.

“Y-you don’t have to if you don’t want-” he started, but you wouldn’t let him interrupt what you had going on.

“I want to, Toshi!” You exclaimed, almost indignantly, and as if to supplant that claim, you descended as far down his shaft as you could go in a fluid motion, but then to your misfortune, you must have triggered your gag reflex because you choked once then twice, and pulled yourself back to cough once more.

“Babe, are you okay?!”

Ushijima shot up like a board to hold you steady by the shoulders while you coughed, and as tears started to form in your eyes, you took one glance at his intense look of concern and you burst into laughter.

“Why are you laughing?”

You doubled over onto him, laughing even more against his chest, which only made him more concerned as he wrapped you in his arms.

“I told you this was dangerous and this is why I held myself back, ___.”

You pulled back once more, tears welling into your eyes as you finally said through snorts:

“Can you PLEASE stop acting like your dick is a lethal weapon?”

The look on Ushijima’s face was that of such extreme shock that you were pretty sure you would never stop laughing, that your fate was now to perpetually cackle until you died of asphyxiation. He frowned again, and you felt just a little bad but still the mixture of stress and confusion and awkwardness and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation rendered you unable to stop.

And finally he added, “It might be funny to you but I’ve never done this before.”

That sobered you up enough that you actually did cease chuckling, and with a final, unintentional chuckle, you faced him seriously this time, your faces only inches apart.

“Is it really your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Another silence hung in the air, maybe because it was hard for you to believe that no one had ever touched him in this way or maybe because despite the fact that he looked either mildly irritated or severely embarrassed, you could still feel his erection hard against your lower belly and you weren’t sure if that meant you should continue (and to be honest, you really wanted to) or that sex was off the table for the time being.

But his arms were still wrapped around you, and you could feel the thump of his heart against your chest, and you wanted him, and you believed he wanted you too, and suddenly it was silly that you had been so intimidated in the first place.

Again you were caught staring into his eyes, and you felt warm again - different layering types of warm.

“Do you want to continue?” The two of you asked, almost in unison. You could hear the hint of persuasion, the please say yes in his voice.

You smiled, and pressed your lips to his again, and a hand went into your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and a hand went around your waist, securing you firmly against his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your tongues danced together again, and when your hand found its way again around his member, he tensed for a moment, but then in a decision to ignore his reservations, broke your embrace to pepper kisses along your neck and into your bosom.

You moaned and arched your back, gripping his member just a little tighter, and he took the opportunity to circle his tongue around your nipple before taking the mound in your mouth.

Consumed in the feeling of him suckling you, you were unprepared for the thick fingers that found their way around and then onto your clit, rubbing gentle circles that sparked waves of pleasure through you. Another moan escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, and then he slid a finger inside you, pressing just hard enough and in just the right place that you jerked almost violently against him.

His finger slipped out almost as fast as it had gone in.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt good!” You reassured him. “P-please continue.”

He nodded, and replaced his finger, pressing more gingerly this time, using the slowing and deepening of your breaths to guide him. You occupied your mouth again with kisses along his collarbones, onto the expanse of his broad chest, pressing your breasts against him, rolling against him. His breaths also started to slow as he fell in rhythm with the way your hips moved, and when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he flipped you over onto your back so that you lay beneath him.

A pause.

His olive eyes scanned you ravenously, and you could hear the hunger sealed within his breathy sighs, as he hovered over you. Your half-lidded eyes, your body warm and receptive and waiting for him, stating in every way possible that you wanted him - it was like a dream for him. He had wanted this for so long, to know what your insides would feel like around him, to know if he too, could make you scream his name in pleasure not pain, to do what his friends and teammates did with their partners, and now here you were, laid out for him like a whole meal.

“Are you ready?”

You didn’t look down at the warm, throbbing length resting on right on your pubic area, but instead at him, your gentle giant, and nodded.

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes and shivered ever so slightly at the sensation of lubricant being slathered right at the opening of your vagina. You could feel him repositioning himself right at your entrance, and trying to stay as relaxed as possible for him, you waited for him to enter you.

And he did, interlacing fingers with yours as he broke through your sopping entrance, feeling your hold tighten around his and hearing your breath hitch then relax as his cockhead made it through you.

Then he stopped so you could adjust to the stretch, and he rested on his elbows, trying to rub the wince out of your facial expression with a caress of the cheek.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Keep going.”

He pushed a little further and you uttered another low moan with the painful, yet pleasurable stretch, and he almost felt guilty for how good you felt around him, how desperately he wanted to fill you up all at once, how aroused he was by the sound of your whimper as you felt him.

“K-keep going,” you mewled as soon as he stopped to let you adjust, and he worried that he really would tear you apart this time, but you clung to his chest again and his desire to go as far into your guts as possible was too much for him to bear.

A groan and he was in almost to the hilt, and he wiped the tears forming in your eyes as you endured the searing pain, the pressure of him stretching you to your limit. The fact that he wasn’t moving was starting to become excruciating for you, and you began to squirm under his weight, indicating your wishes.

“Are you okay, my love?” He murmured carefully.

“Toshi, m-move, please…”

He obliged, withdrawing just a bit to crash back into you, and you cried out but not in pain, in a strangled cry of pleasure.

“Toshi!”

Again!

He could hear the cry for more in the way you said his name and the force with which you dug your nails into his back and again he obliged, thrusting into you again, and you could feel your head spin.

Again!

He settled into a rhythm and stroke after stroke you could feel yourself wind up, your cries and moans and grunts of pleasure loud and clear for him, for all to hear.

“Toshi- ah~!”

His pace quickened every time you called his name and his angle changed so that he was deep enough that it was almost uncomfortable (almost), and he was now grunting, sweating, making sure to leave no part of you untouched. Your thighs clamped around his waist and you muffled your cries into the meat of his shoulder, clinging to him so tightly you thought you would meld into one.

Ushijima was moaning your name now, enthralled by the way your insides, your outsides clamped onto him, claimed his body for you, and he couldn’t believe he had been nervous about this part of the relationship, you had been perfect every other way…

Your coil snapped suddenly, and your orgasm rippled through you like electricity, and now he was muffling your moans with his tongue down your throat, fingers wrapped firmly around your jaw keeping you in place.

“You came?” He whispered in a gruff voice, now into the space between your breasts, his dick still throbbing and twitching within you. The thrum of yes vibrating through your body brought a grin to his face.

He rose up off your body again so he could look at your eyes, glazed over in a love-drunken haze, and finally, he was no longer concerned but confident - dare you say it, cocky - as he hovered above you.

“Let’s aim for at least twice tonight.”

A promise he kept.

The first time would be a time to remember, in more ways than one.

[necros-writing-stuff]

Leighton and Kylar (separate, both male) fucking a delinquent who's been making his life hell into submission?

Concerning the younger au: Leighton taking pity on Kylar because when they see Whitney bullying them they get flashbacks to Bailey shoving them around, like Whitney being taken under Bailey's wing.

NSFW below (tw for non/dubcon, Kylar's breeding kink disregards gender, mostly hurt no comfort)

Kylar

They're sick of it.

The shoving, mocking, yelling.

Kylar has put so much effort into showing their love - they fucking stole expensive chemicals just to make blow-darts to keep you safe and yet you still call them a creep.

You still threw him in the pool, stuffed him in lockers. One time you had leaned in like your were about to kiss him, only to turn and bite his cheek.

You wanted to play rough? Kylar can play rough.

You can't fight back bound like that. Even as you squirm on the floor of your bedroom, hogtied and gagged, you look at him in disgust.

But he'd timed it well. No one was around to help you, just the two of you in this private space. It would be enough.

Cutting your clothes from your body had sent a rush up Kylar's spine, not really caring if it knicked the skin underneath as he did so, just excited to finally touch you unabated.

You keep screaming, mouth stuffed by your own underwear and a tape covering.

"Shhhh, you'll like it, you'll see," he coos, gently rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and spreading them wide so he can see your sex fully on display.

It's wonderful. So inviting and perfect for him.

"Oh!" Kylar yells out, before rushing to a bag and bringing back lube, "I almost forgot! Silly me."

He's generous with the load as he fingers you, small hands slickening you up in a reluctantly pleasant way.

He can't wait, can't stop himself getting his cock out and lining it up with your hole. He doesn't have time to be gentle, you could be interrupted at any minute.

Your body goes stiff from the stretch as he pushes in, back arching even further off of the floor in an attempt to create distance between your hole and the freak's length.

It's not meant to be like this, he's not meant to be able to abuse you.

But here you are, being used as a human fleshlight by the guy you mock daily.

Little shocks of pleasure shoot through your body, the friction good.

His dick feels huge, invading every inch inside of you. He won't stop babbling about how you just need to be shown your place, how you just need to be shown that being bred and stuffed by him is how you should be.

He's delusional, kissing your skin as he hammers away, even claiming he loves you and that you love him back, he knows it.

"This is my first time, you know?" he breaths into your neck, hugging your limp, aching slightly turned on body close as he fucks into you. "I always knew it would be you, ever since that school trip to ice rink all those years ago."

The ice rink? When you'd been fucking eight? You'd grabbed him as he fell and said "Be careful," before skating off. That was it? That's when this all started?

How long has he been planning this?

You start crying now, reality of the situation setting in. You're completely at his mercy, he could hurt you so bad if he wanted to. He already was.

"You're crying because you're so happy, right? That I'm going to fill you up? You're gonna make me a Daddy, you know?"

What a delusional freak.

You whimper when you feel something warm fill your insides, Kylar yelling out on top of you before his sweating body collapses over yours.

Theres a tiny moment of disappointment that you didn't finish, but you push it down as soon as it registers. You can't think like that, no matter what.

"I'm going to take you home, so we can be like this forever," he strokes your cheek, kissing your chest. He looks so reverent.

The last thing you see is him pulling out some needle and jabbing your arm with it.

Leighton

What a brat you are, stood on top of the dinner tables riling up the other students.

A smaller kid was lying on the floor, holding their face and crying after you'd sucker-punched them for groping.

Right in front of Leighton.

Now you're trying to hide behind your fellow students, but they're not looking happy to stand in his way.

The crowd parts as he approaches, letting him reach up and snatch you by the collar, dragging you from the table even as you claw at his hands.

You don't stop struggling even as he pushes you into his office, calling him every name in the book as you do so.

"Let me go! You old, perverted, ugly-"

He fists your hair, shoving you face first into his desk. It's hard enough to hear the slap of your cheek hitting the polished surface.

"You really need to learn to be quiet," Leighton stands behind you, rubbing his crotch against your ass. You can feel his hard-on through your uniform.

No amount of squirming gets you loose from the grip on your hair, nor the one bending your arm behind your back.

"Fuck you!" you spit, kicking out. It's useless.

Leighton lets go of your hair and starts shuffling your uniform down your legs, exposing your tender flesh. You hear the shuffle of his belt, feel him press back into your skin and rub.

You're breathing is hard, you might be hyperventilating, you just want to go.

You hear a hacking noise, then feel fingers press against your hole, wet with want you can only presume is spit.

"Say you're sorry. Tell me you're sorry and I'll be gentle," Leighton whispers into your ear, teasing you with his long digits.

"N-no," you defiantly whimper out, trying to fight off the shudder that shoots up your spine.

One finger pushes in, then another, slightly aided by the saliva. There's a brief sting, but the rough petting of your insides feels good.

Why does it have to feel good?

Your hips jump, pumping against the wood you're pressed to. Then the third finger is added and it burns.

"Last chance. You're going home limping either way, choose whether it's from pleasure or pain," it's a horrible ultimatum.

But you don't want to be hurt. You don't want to cum, either. And you don't have to, you can just have it so he gets what he wants in a way that doesn't hurt.

"... 'm sorry."

"Louder," he demands.

"I'm sorry!" you lift your head from the desk and look him in the eyes, hoping to sound as convincing as possible.

The green stare looking down at you is sharp. It's like a hawk, a predator watching prey.

"Good."

Leighton spits more into his hand, using the foamy liquid to wet his cock before he spits on yoru hole as well.

You clench your eyes shut as he pushes in, biting your lip and trying not to cry out.

It still burns, but its not bad. You can adjust, if he let's you.

And he does, for a few brief seconds Leighton seems happy enough to simply enjoy your heat.

But his hips start snapping into your ass regardless, pap-papping echoing through the office.

Heat blooms in your stomach, you're still not sure if that's good or not. But its better than bleeding.

Hot breath hits your neck, the headmaster panting like a dog from the fast pace he keeps.

That heat builds, muscles tensing in your stomach. The drag of Leighton's length tantalising even as you're wishing him dead within your own mind.

You're moaning. You're letting him use you - being good, so he let's go of your stiff arm to keep your hips still.

The pace only increases now Leighton can shift his weight, man jackhammering into you with no regard for your poor hips slamming against his desk.

It's shameful of close you are to cumming, horrid that that old pervert is the one drawing it from you.

You finally snap, trying to hide that you're having an orgasm by going stiff and biting your lip. Leighton isn't fooled.

"That's it, good girl/boy. I'll have you addicted to my cock by the end of things."

Leighton pulls out, pumping his dick in his hand as he sprays his hot seed all over your ass and back.

"Don't forget you have detention tonight, too."

[watermelonlipstick]

Junkyard

PG-13 oneshot: semi-angst into fluff. Thanks so much for reading!! I would love any advice or critiques, and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in anything :) 

Title: Junkyard

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2170

Summary: Bobby’s a little too overprotective of you with Dean. Sam is very much a younger brother about it.

gif not mine! please let me know if you know whose it is so I can give them credit!

Dean’s hand slipped under your t-shirt, his fingers ice cold from the Sioux Falls October night. You gripped his collar with one hand, the other running through his gelled hair. The tip of his nose was cool against your cheek as his lips crashed into yours, and you nipped at him with your tongue. He answered in kind, pulling you into him. Your jeans slid on the trunk of the old junk car under the pressure until you were ground up against Dean’s belt where he stood. He slipped his other hand into your hair, gripping the base of your neck and exposing your throat before kissing and sucking hungrily. You groaned involuntarily and could feel Dean smile into your soft skin. Sliding down his chest, you gripped his belt buckle and flicked it open with one hand, your turn to grin when Dean gasped softly.

           He leaned into you, the hand on your head lowering you urgently but gently onto the trunk. The exposed skin on your back screamed at the freezing cold metal but you didn’t care, trying to yank him over you like a blanket while he tore at his jacket.

           “Boy if you don’t get that poor girl inside I’ll tan your ass and use it as a coin purse! It’s damn near freezing out! You must think I’m pretty goddamn stupid and I’ll tell you: I was born at night but it wasn’t last night!” Bobby yelled from the house, his voice carrying over the salvage yard.

           “Fuck,” Dean pulled away to whisper through gritted teeth. He pressed his forehead into you, waiting for a beat while you both caught your breath before leaning back to offer a hand. You took it and hopped down from the perch of the trunk. Feeling in the dark for any major bumps, you adjusted your ponytail and yanked your shirt down to meet the waist of your jeans. Dean re-buckled his belt and held out his arm so you could go first back to Bobby’s house.

           Coming through the door, the first thing you saw was Sam sitting at the kitchen table. He smiled up at you slyly without raising his head, and you were thankful that the cold air had already flushed your cheeks. Bobby was a few steps behind him, thankfully looking past you at Dean. If looks could kill, Dean would be burning alive.

           “How was your, uh, walk?” Sam asked with the kind of smug grin only he could deliver.

           “Fine,” you said briskly, adding a tight lipped nod. Sam looked past you to Dean, whose smile was popped open at the edge by his tongue in his cheek. You shot him a warning look and he closed his mouth.

           “Great,” Dean added.

           Bobby slammed down the casserole dish he was holding with enough force that you listened for the Pyrex to crack. “Here you go then,” he said, even more gruffly than normal.

           Dinner was so awkward and silent that it made you sick to your stomach. You tried your best to look only down at your plate, the glances you stole showing Sam’s barely contained glee at Dean having been caught out and Bobby’s barely contained disdain at it. When you finally finished your plate, you grabbed all the empty dishes within reach and headed to the kitchen sink with them. “Thanks for dinner, Bobby! I’m beat, I’ll see you all tomorrow!” you threw over your shoulder as you went, feeling for all the world like a frog trying to climb out of a near-boiling pot.

           “Not so fast, kid,” Bobby barked. You set the dishes down quietly in the sink and marched back to your seat at the table. “We need to have a talk.”

           Sam sat still, but you could tell from the expression on his face that he would’ve been exploding out of his chair with schadenfreude if he could.

           “I’ll leave you guys alone, then. Goodnight! Dinner was great, Bobby,” Dean said, playing dumb in an effort to escape himself. Bobby slapped one open palm on the table hard and the older Winchester returned to his seat. Dean had been keeping it together remarkably well, but the color drained from his face as he settled.

           Bobby sat silently for a few agonizing moments before speaking. “Now. I know you boys haven’t had a lot of experience living with a young woman before—”

           “Oh. My. God.” Sam said under his breath excitedly. Bobby glared at him.

           “But I will be damned if you plan on treating this house like some sleazy frat basement!” he yelled, building steam. You were absolutely mortified, unable to even look at Dean or Sam. “Now get your dumb asses up and go to bed. Don’t make me give this speech again.” His voice was low and grim as you got up and pushed your chair in. Sam and Dean got up too, but you heard Bobby growl a dark “sit” to Dean as you and Sam walked away. You felt a tinge of guilt at leaving him alone, but it was nothing compared to the dread that fell over you at the thought of sitting at the table a second longer.

           Sam followed you up the stairs. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You think he’s going to kill him?” You knew he was joking, but were scared at what Bobby was going to say to Dean anyway. It was ridiculous, for three adults to be wrapped up so much in the opinion of a man who wasn’t the real father of any of you, and yet you felt exactly like a reprimanded child.

           You changed quickly into a big old t-shirt and worn cotton sweatpants, padding down the hallway in a messy bun to wash your face and brush your teeth when Bobby started yelling. Sam shot his head out of the bathroom curiously and came to the stair landing with you to listen.

           “This is not a random girl in some town you’re passing through, Dean!”

           Dean responded too quietly for you and Sam to hear.

           “That’s how you treat her with respect? Slip her out the back door to fool around in a damn junkyard?!” You heard a crash that you thought sounded like one of the chairs being tossed to the ground. When Bobby spoke again he was quieter; Sam and you leaned in to hear him.

           “If you make that girl shed one tear, boy, so help me God you’ll be wishing you were back in Hell.”

           Sam sucked air through his teeth, wincing. You realized your mouth was hanging open, stunned both that Bobby could cut that deep and that he seemed not to trust you to protect yourself at all. You weren’t stupid; of course you knew Dean’s reputation. On some level, you were worried he might live up to it. But for now he was gorgeous and it was a little lonely staying with Bobby up in Sioux Falls. You were having fun, and the fallout was for you to beat yourself up about in the future, not now.

           When you heard movement in the kitchen, you darted into the bathroom and Sam tried to head down the stairs casually to the day bed in the library. You brushed your teeth and washed your face brusquely, making it back to the spare bedroom without seeing Bobby head to the other bedroom upstairs. Pulling the old comforter over you on the old brass bed, you fell asleep fitfully.

           You woke with a start feeling like you were being watched. Based on the dim glow creeping through the slats between your blinds, it was at least a few hours after you went to sleep. When you scanned the room, Dean’s silhouette filled the doorframe.

           “What’re you doing?” you whispered urgently.

           “I wanted to see if you were up,” he answered, stepping into the room so that the moonlight illuminated his face. The shape of his full lips made you ache, the shadow of his jaw onto his neck begging to be touched. You realized as always that his socked feet were his only concession to the hour; his “pajamas” were his still-belted jeans with a t-shirt.

           “I’m up now, what’s going on?” Dean kept took a few more steps into the room toward you, biting his lip slowly. You got up to your elbows, the old bed’s springs creaking underneath you. “What’re you doing?” you repeated. “Bobby’s going to kill us,”

           “I think you mean Bobby’s going to kill me,” he smiled, half of his face obscured by shadow. He was standing at the foot of your bed now, fiddling with the hem of a blanket. “Seems pretty interested in protecting you from the big bad womanizer.”

           “Yeah, I heard some of that,” you offered cautiously.

           “Figured you and Sam would be listening. Hear everything?”

           “Not everything, but enough. So come on, don’t poke the bear. Go to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You laid back down, tucking the comforter up under your chin. Dean didn’t move.

           “You don’t want me here?”

           You smiled in the dark. “Dean, Bobby’s room is like 15 feet away.”

           “Guess we’ll have to be quiet then.”

           Dean rounded the corner of the bed and leaned down, grazing your lips with his. He knew what he was doing, and you could only hold out for a second before greedily snatching the back of his head and sliding your mouth onto his. The bed groaned in response to the extra weight and you pulled away sharply, alarmed at the noise.

           Dean grabbed the extra blankets you kept at the foot of your bed for extra cold nights in Bobby’s drafty Midwestern house and spread them on the floor in a sort of picnic-nest before spinning around and picking you up off the bed, comforter and all. You put a hand over your mouth to keep from giggling as he lowered you both down onto the blankets. “Better?” he asked as you nodded into his chest. Warmth came off of him through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, seeping into you like melting honey. Easing down until your chests pressed together, he kissed you deeply and softly without any of the urgency he had in the junkyard. You relished in the roughness of his hands and stubble on you as he took his time exploring your lips and neck. Dean pulled away to take a breath, leaning back on his knees.

           “Wait,” he whispered.

           “What’s wrong?” you spit out, scared he might’ve heard something in the hallway.

           Dean looked down at you and the shadows caught all the angles in his face. He looked into your eyes and then out the window, biting his lip.

“I’m not just messing around,” he finally said. There must’ve been enough moonlight for him to see your face because Dean pursed his lips in frustration. “I mean what Bobby said is not true. Or maybe it was before, but not now, not with you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

“Dean, I know what this is, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about ‘sparing my feelings’ or whatever,” you replied, touching his chest. He grabbed your wrist.

“Sparing your feelings? No, that’s what I mean. I want it to be more than…this,” he said, gesturing to the blankets surrounding you on the floor. “I just, I want to be, like, with you,” he mumbled.

“Are you serious?” you replied, sitting up.

“I, uh, I mean yeah,” he said, leaning back onto his heels. “If you want to.” Seeing Dean shy and nervous like a teenager this way was unusual, and it caught you off guard.

“Uh, wow,” you breathed, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t know you like, dated, or whatever.”

He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I guess I don’t really, huh?”

“So this is you asking me out?”

“Yeah. But only if you’re going to say yes.” The half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth looked more like the Dean you knew.

“And if I did, would that make this our first date?” you asked, pulling at a loose thread from your sweatpants’ hem.

“I was thinking dinner or something, but I mean, sure, why not?”

“Hmmm, bummer,” you thought aloud with a smile. “Thought you’re not supposed to have sex until the third date.”

Without Dean’s hand behind your head it would’ve cracked against the floorboards with the force of him suddenly slamming into you, but instead you were enveloped in his kiss and the scent of leather and pine that always floated around him. You giggled into his lips when you felt Dean grin against you, and he pulled away a few centimeters. Your breath mixed as he asked, “That’s a yes, right?” It was all you could do to nod as you melted into each other, turning into a tangle of muffled little laughs, discarded clothes, and heavy, warm breaths.

~

ETA: Did you know there’s a Junkyard, Part 2? Might be worth checking out 😉

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​, @akshi8278​, @dream-believe-and-love​

[buggiesbuzzing]

TITLE :: The Promise

PAIRING :: Barry Berkman x Reader

GENRE :: Fluff, hurt / comfort

WARNINGS :: alcohol use

[ ✗ ] REQUESTED

PROMPT :: ❝You're bleeding on my carpet.❞

SUMMARY :: After a late night call for help, Barry reveals his biggest secret to one of his most trusted acting buddies.

Riiing! Riiing!

The shrill rings woke you from your pleasant dreams and had you rubbing your eyes grumpily. You grabbed your phone before it could viciously vibrate off of your nightstand.

‘2:01 AM’, read the screen while the name of the caller popped up underneath it. Sighing, you answered the phone.

“Barry?” You questioned, “What — ”

Before you could complete your question, he butted in frantically. “Y/n, I'm hurt. I can't go to the hospital, I can't do this myself. Help me, please.”

Without thinking you agreed to help him. You cared deeply for the man, maybe more than a friend should, especially given the fact that you hadn't met him too long ago.

You could hear the relief in the sigh you received from him. He mumbled out a thanks and told you that he'd be at your place in a couple minutes.

Since he'd be coming over, you decided to get out of bed and get a caffeinated drink to coax yourself out of the sleep that threatened to take you back to your dream world. A few minutes passed before there were a few weak knocks on the door.

Barry had been over quite a few times since you had a habit of hosting small parties, and of course you'd have to invite your friends from your acting class.

You opened the door and almost collapsed under the sudden weight of Barry unintentionally using you to support himself. Slowly, you usher him into your living room, leaving him to close the door.

When you turned back to look at him, he was standing awkwardly, obviously looking for permission to sit on the couch. “You're getting blood on the carpet, just sit down — it's black leather, it's not like it's going to do much.” He stumbled back onto the couch, relaxing himself. “Now show me the source of all this.” You gestured vaguely at his exhausted and injured form.

Barry peeled up his shirt with a hiss, revealing a large gash on his lower abdomen. You stared at his exposed skin for a moment before mentally slapping yourself. ‘Not the time, dumb-dumb’; you could feel the heat rise to your face in embarrassment.

“Don't move.” You demanded, shuffling away to gather some things.

“It's not really like I have a choice.” Barry thought aloud.

Ping ponging from room to room, you grabbed the appropriate items to help the badly injured man on your couch; alcohol wipes, dental floss, a sharp needle, a belt, and a bottle of scotch.

Returning to the living room, you handed off the scotch and belt to Barry. “You can either drink off the pain while I help you, or you can bite down and bear through it.”

Barry began to uncap the scotch as you sat up your needle and makeshift thread. Once that had been taken care of you unwrapped the alcohol wipe and started to clean the area around the wound. He groaned in pain and took advantage of the amber liquor that you lent him.

You got on your knees and took a deep breath to prepare yourself, then started to work on stitching up his injury. Barry winced and sipped on the numbing drink. You had wished you'd taken a swig yourself — your hands seemed unsteady under pressure, but you continued to pull together the sides of the gash.

You tied off the end of the floss and stood back up, stretching before falling onto the couch beside him and snatched the bottle for yourself. One swig of the burning liquid had you sinking into your spot on the couch and letting go to all of the once pent up stress.

“So, Barry, are you going to tell me what made you come to my house at two in the morning covered in blood?” You asked without looking over.

Barry shifted uncomfortably, leaving a solid minute of silence before he gave a verbal response. “Can you promise you won't look at me differently?”

The question slightly confused you, “I don't kn —”.

He had cut you of again. “Please?” he asked in a begging tone.

You thought for a second, before agreeing. “I promise, Bare.”

You could've swore you seen a slight pink tint to his cheeks as he gave a small smile. He turned to you slowly, careful not to split his new stitches, and in return you turned towards him.

“I may or may not get paid to. . . fatally injure certain people.” He spoke lowly, watching your non-verbal response to his confession.

You blinked in shock. “You're a fucking hitman?” You hissed quietly.

Barry nodded, expecting something way more explosive. Although you were pretty collected on the outside, you were kind of scared inside. Not necessarily of him, but rather for him. He could possibly die, or get put in prison, and the thought of losing him terrified you.

You let out a shaky sigh. “You should take a shower - I have some clothes from when my ex used to live with me that should fit you.”

He nodded and slowly stood up. You led him to the bathroom and got him a towel. “You might as well stay the night too,” You mumbled, not wanting to send him out when it was getting close to three AM. “You can take the bed.”

“I'm fine with being on the couch, it's your bed anyway.” Barry countered.

You shook your head stubbornly. “Nope, you're not sleeping on the couch with your injury.”

“We can just both sleep on different sides of the bed,” Barry stated, adding a soft, “if you're comfortable with that, of course.”

You pondered it and ultimately agreed. While he showered, you cleaned up what looked like a crime scene.

You put the things you'd used back and wiped down the couch. You sprinkled baking soda on the carpet to absorb any blood in the fibers, then you made a mental note to scrub it with vinegar in the morning.

After the living room looked semi-presentable, you shut off the light and headed to your room. You dug out a pair of pajama pants, boxers, and a muscle tank, sitting it on the end of the bed for Barry whenever he'd gotten out of the shower.

Now that you had taken care of your tasks, you quite literally hopped into bed and snuggled in under the duvet. Within minutes, you gave into the heaviness of your eyelids, dozing off into a light sleep.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but it only felt like seconds had gone by when you hear Barry come into the room. You kept your sleeping position with your eyes closed, listening to him rustle into the clothes you were lending him.

He called your name quietly, to which you gave no response, making him think that you'd been sleeping; that was only half true. You could hear everything, but your body had turned itself over to sleep. He huffed and turned off any remaining lights. The bed dipped in beside you, the warmth radiating from his skin made you unconsciously gravitate towards him.

Barry froze and flushed, seeing as you'd pretty much cuddled up to his side. It'd be a lie if he said he wasn't enjoying this moment, though.

However, once you'd woken up, you were both an entanglement of limbs. It was oddly comfortable. There was no way you were moving.

Little did you know, he'd already woken up and he wasn't planning on moving either.

tags :: @wordvomit-foryourmind

[whump-town]

Minimal Loss AU

This is for @hotchley because I've been saying I was going to do this since just about forever and now I finally did it. Is it really that different? No but I like this version more than the original

Warnings: death.

Pairings: no but like if you want it to be Mortch it can be and you don't really have to squint to see it either way

Summary: Minimal Loss (S4, E3) but I made it so much worse because I like misery

In less than five years Derek Morgan has watched the BAU rebuild from nearly the start twice. Watched it dwindle down to just a few creeping agents but this time… Derek’s not sure the resiliency is there. After Boston, the shift had been fairly clear. Gideon lost it. Hotch stepped up. Now Derek can feel the weight of the BAU settling on his shoulders, wonders if this is the panic that Hotch felt. The pressure of the future looming over him, weighing him down. His chest is trapped between hefty boulders waiting for the impending doom of when his bones can no longer sustain the pressure. Is this how it was for Hotch? Holding his breath and waiting for the snap of release? For the weight to settle and find out if this time it would be too much?

The bull pen’s door swings open and Derek looks up, he’s expecting the gloomy presence of Hotch. His slow, anxious movements drawn out in each of his steps. Before he’d just been gloomy but now he seems to drag the weight of the dead behind him. The groaning of chains shackled to his feet-- he’s got the key to unlock the burden but there’s something too familiar in suffering for him to let go. But these steps are too light. Too unburdened to be Hotch.

With a snapping halt, Dave stops at Derek’s desk. They give one another a look they’ve been sharing a little too much as of late. One of them always carrying the next bought of bad news. This time it’s Dave, next it will be Derek. “He failed his gun qualification.” It may not carry the same weight as the other things they’ve had to speak of but it’s no good, it’s still bad.

Derek supposes he should have known this was coming. He’s a profiler but even emotional intelligence doesn’t negate childish hope. Blind faith in one another has gotten them a long way, it’s the foundation of what makes them a unit. Derek assumed it would get them through this too. “Dave,” Derek calls to the other man’s receding back. “How bad is it?” he asks the floor. Unable to look Dave in the eyes and let the older man see just how crushed he is.

Dave pauses, stands with his back to Derek and his feet still attempting to move him forward. He wishes he knew what he could say to make this better. The tension between the team and, even worse so, that which remains Derek and Hotch is thick enough to choke on, makes the air unbearable to breathe and be in. But he doesn’t know what to do. He’s run out of things to say. All he can do is shrug, offer Derek a simple shake of his head.

There’s no going back. For any of them.

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

Hotch loses his ability to speak clearly, punctually when Benjamin Cyrus targets Emily. His hands start to shake and take a constant flight of motion when he speaks. He’s conscious of their jitters, of the way his own nerves are comprising the mission, but he can’t walk away. A power shift this late into the operation will be disastrous and he won’t put Prentiss and Reid’s lives on the line.

He feels it in his chest before he sees it. His hoarse, powerless scream is swallowed by the crack that shakes the world. By the bomb that upsets his entire life.

He surges forward, guided by cloudy adrenaline. Years of field training have taught him plenty about these scenarios, logically he knows it’s a lost cause. Instinct screams for him to back away from the smoke thrown up in dark, rolling plumes. To get away from where the fire licks out of the building. Yet he moves forward regardless because Reid has overcome too much for all of it to end here. For this to be his final stand.

Arms snag his waist, an instant sharp jerk as he’s pulled backward with more might than which he pushes forward. “No!” he doesn’t recognize the desperate sounds coming out of his mouth. The way he screams Reid’s name into the flames and cries out for Prentiss. “No, let go!” He pushes down against the arms around his belt. “Get the fuck off me, Derek! Get off me!” He manages to throw them both into the dirt and he lands with a breathless thud to the ground, pausing only to his own desperation like a mirror in Derek’s eyes.

This time Derek isn’t fast enough and he’s left panting on the ground, his voice cracking as he yells at his boss’ receding back. All he can do is follow after him.

Dave yells for both of them to stop, italian curses tangled into his frustrated orders.

Derek Morgan hadn’t been there when Adrian Bale bested Gideon and killed their team. Hotch had been preparing the next wave of officers and agents just outside the building. When the bomb went off Gideon thought he was dead. Phoned Derek at the hospital and told him he hadn’t seen Aaron, didn’t know what to expect officers would find. A body, he supposed. But Hotch was alive by some slim miracle. Spent two weeks in the hospital recovering from the shrapnel wounds embedded in his upper torso, from the beating his heart took keeping him alive. Smoke inhalation from laying under burning bits of the building and too many broken bones to be worth remembering. The fact that he had only nearly died set him apart from the others. Nearly wasn’t the same as dead. It could have been worse.

So much worse.

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

Derek never learned or even worked his way up to forgiving Gideon for what happened that day. He’d lost friends within a blink of an eye and then his best friend slowly over the course of the next year. Ripped to shreds by shrapnel and stitched back together only for Jason Gideon to let the job take and take from Hotch until there was nothing left. Until he could no longer smile. Incapable of joy. Carrying on like a robot.

“Hey,” Derek is stepping into the hall when Hotch gets off the elevator. “You okay, man?” He steps forward to place his hand on Hotch’s elbow but the other man moves too quickly, too fixated on his goal. The material of his suit just passes right by Morgan’s fingers. Hotch just keeps ghosting alone. Not so much as blinking in response.

He wants to be pissed. Derek wants nothing more than to feel something so irrational and so consuming that he can lash out and scream and curse and make a scene like a child so much as these feelings are burned through. But those stones keep adding upon his chest. His body just keeps taking the weight and no release comes.

Hotch is a sharp-shooter.

He’s had tactical training and awards all over his office that demonstrate just how good of a shot he is. Give him a gun and he won’t miss his target. So how does a man like that fail his gun qualifications?

Them. Because of them.

Derek moves his eyes down to the floor the second he sees the outlines of the frames. He’d known where they were headed, Hotch always ends up right back here in this one spot. Staring at their pictures like he can will them back to life. Maybe Derek really is no better than Hotch. Unable to bring himself to look at his best friend’s faces memorialized behind glass picture frames. Smiling for the rest of eternity.

Emily had been in the hall. She’d gone back, from what they could tell, and dragged an injured woman with her down the hall. The other woman was already dead before the explosion took place but Emily never knew when to give up. From the diagram drawn up after the explosion, she was three feet from the door that would have lead her to freedom when Cyrus blew up the compound. Three fucking feet.

Spencer had died immediately. Blood dribbling down his chin and a proud smirk on his lips. Gideon had assured him over the years they worked together that he was just enough like Hotch to be a little too resilient. Said they both had that same sort of strange curiosity mixed with unyielding oddness that made them so unapproachable to other people. Reid’s death had looked like defiance, what he thought was at least one more second of distraction to save his friend. As the hammer of the gun struck Reid knew Hotch would be proud, that Gideon was right. It took balls to argue with Cyrus. To back the leader into a biblical corner but his words had struck a new rebellion: doubt.

Cyrus had leveled his Glock to Ried’s temples and torn his genius brain to shreds.

But Reid had never known strength as he did in that moment.

The bomb didn’t even leave them a body to bury.

Derek looks up at Hotch, keeps his eyes trained on the man’s tear-stained eyes. Lethargically swollen with the tears he never sheds. “Cyrus killed them,” he whispers. “They wouldn’t want this Hotch.”

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

Emily had never seemed so small. She was several inches shorter than both Hotch and Derek but he’d never noticed just how small she really was. Not until she was still, limply laid in Hotch’s arms as he gently moved her from fallen debris. His tears splashing the soot off of her pale face. A broken doll he holds so carefully.

Derek steps around debris, working around the largest pieces slowly. Lowering his head in defeat at the way the emergency personal look at him, their sympathy burning the lining of his stomach. He’s standing in the middle of it all, a sea of black body bags measuring out each individual failure committed today. Hotch is crouched on the edge of it, uselessly cleaning soot off Emily’s face.

“Hotch..,” Derek sinks down to his knees. Opens his mouth but no words come out, he just looks at his boss. His oldest friend. “She’s gone,” he manages, thickly. “Emily’s dead, Hotch. You have to let her go.”

“We have to go,” Morgan says and he’s not sure he can do much more than repeating the words that other people have been repeating to him. He’s incapable of thinking past just how broken Emily is. He’d just spoken to her. The flashing light and her boot in the window.

Hotch tears his eyes away and up to Morgan. There are tear streaks on his dirty face, “I can’t.” He looks back down at Emily and holds her closer. Daring Morgan to take her away. “She--” the words get caught in his throat. “She didn’t think I trusted her.”

Morgan shakes his head but… he can’t find the words to form condolence. They’d grown to trust one another. Become friends. Surely Hotch knows that. She loved them all, even him.

“I do,” Hotch says. His chest heaves as he pulls in a broken sob. “I trust her.”

Morgan nods his understanding and places a hand on Hotch’s shoulder. “She knows,” he promises. “She knows, man.”

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

“Dave told me you failed your gun qualification this morning.” Derek isn’t even sure why he leaves the pause in their conversations anymore. Hotch hardly ever speaks. Never reacts to things anymore. Just sort of floats by. He’s not the only ghost in the BAU but he’s the only living one. “It’s not a big deal,” Derek mumbles. Not much is anymore. “You don’t need to go out in the field.” Hotch shouldn’t be anywhere near the field. Not for a long time. Morgan can’t take another Gideon. He can’t watch another friend unravel. He’s tired of losing people.

But that is exactly what’s happening.

Derek looks up and locks eyes with Reid and Prentiss, their unseeing, unmoving eyes. Both funerals had their share of drama. The Ambassador hadn’t come to Emily’s. She’d sent back a letter about being in Moscow, couldn’t get a flight, and informed them not to bother making arrangements for another date. Reid’s mother had slapped Hotch, cursed, and screamed until she was taken away. He’d found this fair punishment, he deserved worse. He couldn’t even act as a pallbearer. He wasn’t even hurt. His hands just haven’t stopped shaking, like the adrenaline never faded out of his system.

“Come on,” Derek mumbles. He turns on his heel and makes for the bullpen, knows from the rustle of fabric Hotch is following closely. His hands tucked deep in his pockets to hide their tremble, his head bowed so no one sees the tears he hasn’t let go. “We’ll be okay,” Morgan tells him, as he holds the bullpens door open. Morgan just needs to work on convincing himself that as much as Hotch.

They’re not but some lies are worth the attempt at making them truths.

[heart-strong]

Are you Miserable?

Summary: Spencers out of jail, Scratch has been caught and Aaron and Jack are back. Spencer's boys are back, so when Penelope offers to take Jack for the night they cannot resist, but the night does not go as anticipated.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x enby Spencer Reid , hurt/ comfort

CW/TW: Sexual Assult, Childhood Sexual Assult (mentioned) prison arc (mentioned), Aaron in witsec (mentioned), intrusive thoughts flashbacks

WC: 2.3k

———

Spencer Reid was in love desperately and since they got out of prison their next goal to get their boys back. Aaron and Jack were now seconds away from them.

“They haven't arrived yet genius?" Penelope scurries through the double doors with JJ and Dave in tow.

"Em went down without me, she said they wouldn't get up here if I went down there." they bounced on the balls of their feet.

"I agree with Emily," Dave added.

With that, the elevator dings, and the three people are reviled to the team. Aaron and Jack Hotchner’s smiles matching inch for inch. Suddenly Jack is throwing his full weight into Spencer’s arms. Aaron's then squishing the boy to their chest and is kissing Spencer’s mouth in front of everyone on the level six FBI floor.

"How have you gotten hotter?" Aaron whispered.

"Prison roughed me up, babe. "Spencer answers, squatting down to talk to Jack. "What do you think, have I changed too much Jackie?"

"I think you look tough like daddy, Spencie. I'm glad we're back though daddy’s been miserable."

"Jack you weren't supposed to tell them that.” Emily giggles at the young boy.

"Sorry, dad. "Jack blushes.

"Okay, I need hugs." Penelope runs up. "I missed you boys." she scoops Jack up." Now, Jackie, you and I are going to have a sleepover. We can’t have daddy and Spence miserable for any longer."

"That sounds so fun!" Jack hugs Penelope tight as Aaron hugs Dave hello. Falling quickly back to the rhythm of the BAU and rejoining the team before he and Spencer head to dinner for the first time in a year.

---

"Ahhh Aaron," Spencer moans in complete pleasure and basking in the presence of Aaron on top of them.

"God, fuck Spence-," Aaron moans into Spencer’s neck while the pair’s legs are intertwined and Aaron works on his partner’s shirt, kissing lower to make a new hickey on Spencer’s pale collar bones. "My Pretty Spencer.” he punctuates with a bite.

While feeling Aaron once again in such a needy way after him being gone for so long, Spencer can't help being overwhelmed. 'I'm just out of practice’ Spencer thinks as they card their hands through Aaron’s hair.

"Mmm Ar, your hairs so long with a year of me not pulling on it." they laugh opening their eyes and looks to the ceiling.

"I hate it, love." Aaron breaths.

Spencer smiles at the comment but knows it won't happen tonight. They hold to the man on top of them because maybe finally having him back in Spencer’s arms it will make the inmate’s words they yelled at them lessen. From the nightmares and intrusive thoughts that Spencer has dealt with since the early days in the prison. But now they’re thinking about it and Aaron's hands are not Aaron’s hands. Aaron’s body is not Aaron’s body. And more of the air leaves Spencer’s lungs. The hips lips legs begin to envelop their body as they gasp for anything. 'But Aarons home, he needs this'.

"God fuck," Aaron wines rolling his body above them. "You are so lovely. I missed you, Spence." His hands force Spencers shirt to move up their chest.

‘This is Aaron, this is my boyfriend.’ they repeat in their mind. ‘The men are still in prison, I am here with Aaron.’ But as Aaron’s other hand is going for his belt. The jumpsuit buttons and they can feel of the stiff mattress as it floods back to them when Milo, no Aaron, unbuckles their belt.

"No," Spencer stiffens and Aaron is off their body, at the other end of the couch in the blink of the eye.

"Baby?" Aaron asks.

Spencer gasps as their chest feels the calloused fingers of Milos on their body. And as they look up to Aaron’s face, 'he'll still love you, you've watched him for years supporting victims.' they think.

"Spencer, Spence can you breath a bit better?" Aaron asks. “Darling in through your nose, out through your mouth baby."

Spencer listens to Aaron and scratches the tears off their faces. When did they start crying? After they start breathing better Aaron goes to the kitchen and gets glasses of water. Spencer accepts it and drinks the entire glass before they look back at their boyfriend.

"Spencer do you want to talk about this now?"

"I was sexually assaulted again, in prison."

"Okay first I love you and this doesn't change that, second may I hug you, you can say no if you don't want me to." Aaron is standing hesitant.

"No, I mean, yes you can. Please Aaron, can you hold me?"Aaron sits down next to Spencer placing his glass next to the empty one and envelope Spencer’s shoulders for a few seconds and then leans back continuing. "Just like before, when you told me about your father, I do not care darling. Now I do care because you should not have had to experience that, I wish I could get your father in jail Spencer."

"Aaron don't you don't,"

"No Spencer Reid, your father touched you when you were five. You knew Jack at five imagine someone touching Jack then, that anger you feel is the same I would feel and do feel. I think about killing him."

"Aaron, you can't say that," Spencer says.

"Why not? I do, if I had known at the time and met your father, I would have killed him during the Riley Jenkins case, I would have stayed."

"Aaron, it not that I don't appreciate the thought, because I do. I really do, you cannot imagine 5-year-old me realizing that what William was doing to me was abusive and not what fathers did to their children how used and unloveable I thought I was,"

"Spencer Diana Reid, you are so very loved." They both smiled at the name. Six months after the two got together Aaron and Jack accompanied Spencer to the courthouse to change their middle name. Spencer had told the team and their boyfriend about their father, then all the hospital visits happened. And every time Spencer had to say 'Spencer William Reid’ they had to hold down bile. Aaron caught onto their discomfort and brought up the idea of changing their name.

"I know that now, but I have you and Jack and the team and Henry and Michael. Aaron, I do not feel loveless now. But, god, okay I have my boys back, and I could not let you not know that it happened again."

"And I assume the guards did nothing."

"The guards did shit, believe it or not, Calvin Shaw found me and brought me to the infirmary."

"Spencer, baby I'm so fucking sorry.” Aaron grabbed their hand and Spencer could feel his shaking. “I do have to ask, have you gotten checked?"

"Aaron,” Spencer scoffed. “Do you think I would have been rolling around with you for the last hour if I hadn't or it came out positive!? No, I would have told you immediately."

"Spencer I had to fucking ask." This is not what Aaron wanted. He honestly wanted, when the elevators opened and he laid eyes on 'roughed up' Spencer, to take the love of his life to the bathroom and ravish them. But then Spencer seemed to be a melancholy aura. And then less than 30 minutes ago they stiffened like the dead bodies they see with the job. "Baby, can we step back please."

"Yes sorry I just, Aaron I wouldn't risk your health babe, sorry I got angry there, I just want your body." Spencer blushes. "I thought, it’s you, and I've been abused and scared almost every year since joining the bureau. Like I should be fine, but that's not how this," they point to their brain, "Works."

"Spencer you do not have to justify yourself to me. How about I make some popcorn, get some tea, you get some jammies on. I will too and we just watch a movie."

"That would be very nice." Spencer grabs Aarons’s thighs and kisses their boyfriend. "I missed you and your use of 'jammies' is beyond adorable.”

"Spencer, have I introduced you to my son Jack Hotchner he's 13?” They both laugh and Aaron kisses Spencer back, carding his hand through their unruly curls.

"Mmm hum, "Spencer hums from the feeling "Touche handsome. I'll be back."

After Spencer leaves Aaron goes to the kitchen preparing the hot water and snacks, knowing how to navigate Spencer’s apartment after years of movie nights with his partner. Some time passes, he has dumped the popcorn in a bowl and two cups of tea are steeping when he hears bare feet padding into the kitchen.

"You still like peppermint and apple mixed? I saw you had them and made it without asking."

"Do you know who you're talking to, yes, may I hug you?"

"Please." before he has the chance Spencer presses their body to his back and nuzzles their nose to Aaron’s hairline. After years after real-life jump scars, the pair did not hug from behind without permission. Spencer’s slender arms wrap around Aaron’s middle.

"Did you pick out something to watch baby?"

"There's a documentary about Polar Bears that looks nice," Spencer says.

"Sounds good, "Aaron rubs Spencer’s arm as they tighten their grip." Do you want to bring these to the coffee table and I'll go change?"

"Sure babe, I missed you so much," Spencer says as he started kissing Aaron’s back.

Aaron turns in Spencer’s arms and finds them in an FBI Acadamy t-shirt too big and too worn out for it to be Spencer's. His FBI shirt.

"Did you miss me or my clothes baby?" Aaron laughs as his partner.

"Your clothes that smell like you.” Spencer blushes. “You see, I have some of your clothes but,"

"They don’t smell like me anymore?" Aaron nods as Spencer’s fluffy hair robs his neck. "If I just hold you you don't have to wear my clothes and I never plan on letting you go."

"Aaron Hotchner you are going to spoil me to death."

"No I will spoil you till the day you die, that's different." Aaron brushed Spencer’s curls out of their eyes. "I'm going to go change baby."

While Aaron is changing Spencer turns on Netflix and pulls up the documentary and bundling up in a blanket. Aaron joins them letting Spencer curl to his body as if the two were magnets to the other. This is what Aaron needed when he saw Spencer, his partner at his side and warm on his body. Over the years after the two got together Spencer would fold to Aaron’s body and sometimes Jack would sit in between them. While the loss of Hailey was painful for everyone on the team, Aaron was happy with Spencer and it made it easier to love them when Jack was also with the two, having fun and calling Spencer ‘Spencie’. Jack would explain to his teachers that ‘My Spencie is picking me up today’ and while it was confusing at first they quickly came to realize that Jack’s father’s partner was nonbinary. And Aaron of course did not care, just about having Spencer at his side and being able to love them.

Spencer ends up falling asleep, their fist clutching Aaron’s shirt and it has been years since Aaron could carry Spencer to bed. So he runs his hand through the beautiful curls atop their head and stops once Spencer's eyes flutter open.

"Hey," Spencer rubs their eyes." Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes, baby. You are so pretty you know, my pretty Spencer." Aaron smiles down at the crinkles in Spencer's cheeks.

"And you, my darling boyfriend, are comfortable."

"Okay my pretty one, brush teeth and bed."

"Aaron you know I am your partner, not your son?"

"Give me a break, the past year I have mostly only hung out with my son."

- - -

Aaron exits the restroom and finds Spencer with a book and their glasses on. "Hey Spencer before we go to bed can we chat?"

"Yes of course, but also I am quite sleepy you know."

"yes, I'll be quick," Aaron laughs and sits at Spencer’s feet. "I know we started that conversation and I feel like we dropped it quickly."

"Babe, you don't need to," Spencer sits up grabbing Aaron’s hands.

"Spence, for my brain I do need to, so can I?"

"Of course Aaron go ahead.” Spencer closes his book. "Can I snug while?"

"Come here baby," Aaron reaches out for them, and Spencer crawls into his lap and wraps their legs around Aaron’s hips. "Okay seriously though, you are my everything and your father did not deserve having you. And I hate thinking about if he had stayed. I love you so much and the shit that happened to you in there doesn't change a thing."

"Thank you for saying that babe." Spencer blushed. "I can't imagine not having my boys back."

"I'm very glad having you back too, I really was fucking miserable."

"Are you miserable now?"

"No."

"Then can we snuggle for the rest of our lives?"

"That sounds fantastic baby.”

Spencer kisses Aaron with a nod." I will say Ar, I want Jack back and I want us to move in together, we've been together for years and I love Jack. Jack loves me. Not to toot my own horn, but like I get to love and receive love from the Hotchner boys."

"Spencer Reid, you fucking beat me to the question.” Aaron fakes disappointed hitting his forehead on Spencer’s shoulder. “Jack asked if we could move in when we came back. But I think it’s a bit too late to go get him tonight though. So for now, snuggles?"

"I like snuggles!"

Spencer pulls Aaron on top of them and catches his mouth. Aaron Hotchner was the person or man for them. Aaron thought the same for Spencer, Spencer loved his kid and his kid was the person Aaron loved them most in his life. The pair fell asleep intertwined in the sheets. And when the sun rose the first thing out of Aaron’s mouth was, "Hey my pretty Spencer, do you want to go get our boy?"

"Our boy? God, I love the sound of that, yes."

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {2}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 19.6k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

.

.

Next morning, on Christmas eve, you try to be as nonchalant as you can. Thankfully your walls are thick enough so no one took notice of your late-night shenanigans and what happened between you before Hoseok’s interruption was barely anything out of the ordinary.

Thankfully you get yourself distracted with the preparations for this evening. Every year the five of you plan a traditional Christmas dinner, idea courtesy of Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s minds, where every single one of you was assigned to different tasks.

Seokjin is in charge of the roasted turkey, as he is every year, Hoseok will cook his famous vanilla-roasted sweet potatoes, Jimin will prepare a cauliflower soup and Ana is always in charge of the desert. This year choosing the recipe of a Buche de Noel.

You’re left with the simple task of making smooth mashed potatoes and bringing the booze.

Even though simpler than what others have to do, it gives you time to be alone and focus on something else other than Jimin. Whether you’re cooking or going to the store to pick up the alcohol, your time is productively filled with anything other than thoughts of him.

You take a nap around midday, leaving the kitchen free for the guys to use. Taking a hold of this opportunity to stay clear of Jimin’s gaze. You make sure your interactions are limited between the lines of what is only necessary, even when the preparations are done and you sit around the table.

Ana and Seokjin arrive together, the turkey the size of a small TV, which Seokjin himself puts on the table. Not letting anyone else help him or carve it, flashbacks of last year when Jimin tried to carve it and nearly dropped it still etched to everyone’s memory.

You help Ana move the desert to the fridge for later, and as all of you take your places at the dinner table, you feel a particular set of eyes on you.

Thankfully you don’t sit next to him so you don’t have any one-on-one conversation like you do with Seokjin sitting to your right. You only talk to him when the conversation involves the whole group and that’s only to not alert anyone that something is off.

Your mind is swarmed with memories of Jimin’s look. With the way he’s looking at you now.

You ignore it in favour of talking to Ana at the end of the table as she rumbles excitedly about the party next week. You immerse yourself in that conversation, going lightly over some details and pouring another glass of wine as Seokjin passionately joins you.

Although, even if you’re engrossed to something else you can’t help but notice one thing. 

He never mentions Dinah.

And that gives you magnificent, dreadful hope.

.

.

It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re in an awfully good mood.

The party is in full bloom, the essence of joy and excitement wafting through the air, people dancing their worries away and laughing under the neon-lights (Ana really went all-in in the decoration department), having fun in what can only be a fitting welcome for a bright New Year.

The mulled wine has gotten slightly into you, landing you in that perfect spot between sober and tipsy, just enough to elevate your already high spirits. Besides you’re also celebrating finally finishing your book. It’s been a bitch of a struggle but finally, you’ve gone and did it. Finally booking an appointment with a publishing company that took an interest in you after reading one of your drafts you’ve previously sent them.

And well. Dinah isn’t here.

“I cannot believe I’m talking to the next Stephen King!” Hoseok yaps excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder, voice raised higher than normal due to the several “old-fashioned” he managed to throw back.

You grunt from the sudden weight as he leans a bit too much on your side to stand up. “Okay, step it down a notch, buddy,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder.

He thinks it over before-. “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

Your eyes widen, an involuntary laugh escaping you. “I said step it down a notch, not climb the whole mcfreakin ladder?” Hoseok giggles happily, before his eyes rest on the hostess, who’s currently talking to a coworker, gleeful smile in full bloom.

He waves at you to lean closer to him and you oblige. “See that girl over there?” he whispers to you conspiratory, pointing at Ana who seems oblivious to your conversation. You chuckle at his drunk antics but decide to appease him and nod.

A blissful smile takes over his lips. “Imma marry her someday.”

You barely keep your smile at bay. Honestly, Hoseok is whipped for Ana and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind, so it doesn’t sound weird coming from him. You’re willing to bet his wish is gonna come true someday. It’s just a matter of time.

Though you’re happy for your friends, you can’t let this teasing opportunity pass you by.

“Hey, champ, I got some bad news for you…” you press your lips together in mock-sadness and Hoseok’s face falls.

“She has a boyfriend,” you deliver the final blow and his eyes widen. Before he bursts into tears.

At least a couple of people stare at you, as Hoseok bawls his eyes out and you can’t stop cackling. Oh, god, you didn’t know he was this drunk, he was perfectly fine moments ago! Although to be perfectly candid, he has a low alcohol tolerance, so really this one is on you.

Ana shows up after a few seconds, worry etched into her features after seeing her boyfriend cry like a baby. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asks him, obviously more sober than him, but once she sees you laughing, her eyes narrow. “What did you do to him?”

You shrug, your expression being the poster-child for innocence. “Nothing! I just told him you have a boyfriend.”

This sends another wave of tears down Hoseok’s cheeks and Ana laughs incredulously. 

“Is it true? Do you have a boyfriend” Hoseok struggles to ask through his hiccups and Ana can’t repress the lovesick smile on her lips.

“Yes and he’s a giant baby.”

“Does that mean I still have a chance?”

Ana chuckles before pressing a kiss on Hoseok’s pouty lips. “It’s you, you dufus! Now, come on, let’s get you to lay down…”

“Really?” he says with the most childlike smile you’ve ever seen on him. And only seconds later it turns into a smirk. "Oh, I will lay down, I will lay down so hard that you-” he struggles to complete his sentence, “that you’ll want to lay down with me…”

You groan out loud, not ready for the scene to turn into an NSFW one. “Are you horny all the time?” you complain out loud and the couple raises their brows at you.

“...Already know the answer to that one. Thank you very much five years of living together!” you admit regrettably and Ana tsks you.

“Serves you right for having the nerve to terrorize the sun himself!”

“That’s me!” Hoseok points to himself with a proud smile and you press your lips together to stop the giggles from escaping as Ana rolls her eyes fondly at her boyfriend.

“I’ll get him to my room-” Hoseok finger guns her, winks and blows her a kiss, “could you please make him some coffee?” Ana pleads you as she struggles to push a drunk Hoseok down the hall.

“You got it, babe! I’m gonna roast this coffee so bad, it’s gonna go running to its momma!” you announce in the spur of the moment, but Ana just looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Doesn’t work for me, does it?” Ana just shakes her head and you huff. “I’ll go get the coffee…”

You drive through the crowd, barely avoiding the drinks spilling left and right and finally reach the kitchen. Thankfully there’s only like a couple of people around, so you reach for the french press easily, adding the coffee grounds and warming some water in the microwave.

“Why on earth are you having coffee with so much alcohol around and why does that weirdly make sense for you?” Jimin enters your vision, resting his hip on the counter in a mirror of your stance and you have to take a breath.

His dark blue hair is slicked back, revealing the magnificence of his eyebrows (yeap, that’s another spot of Jimin you’re weak about). He’s dressed in all black; black jeans, black T-shirt with an open neckline, a leather belt hugging closely at his hips, a dangly earring gracing his earlobe and a silver chain resting against his glistening collarbones. He has been dancing and all you wanna do is dive in and bite at the skin of his neck, glinting welcoming under the dimmed lights.

Focus.

“Give me a break, it’s not even for me…” you joke back, just in time to cover up your little zone-out. Jimin stares back confused.

“Who then-?” he makes a sound of realization before he chuckles. “Hoseok,” he responds and you nod, a giggle already on your lips.

After Christmas eve, when you refused to even speak to him, things became less weird. It seems like the two days you spent actively avoiding each other helped in restoring the dynamics back to normality. You’re not even sure who made the first move but after a few days, you were back to normal, as if that thing on the couch never happened.

Maybe it is for the best to pretend it never happened. No feelings are going to get hurt this way.

“Yeap, Ana took him back to her bedroom,” you reply, moving to pour the water into the french press.

Jimin raises an unconvinced eyebrow as he hands you a mug. “And are you sure they’re not gonna fuck back there?”

You take the mug with an appreciative nod. “Honestly, they’re probably fucking right now on their way there. Maybe they are, maybe they’re not. Maybe I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life walking into that and maybe I won’t.”

“And you’ll take those chances?” Jimin chuckles incredulously and you almost swoon at the way his smile lights up the room.

“This coffee won’t deliver itself!” you joke and Jimin’s smile turns bigger.

“Your service is greatly appreciated!” he says with an awful British accent and proceeds to laugh.

“Well, thank you good sir!” you play into it with a curtsy and both of you burst into happy, slightly intoxicated giggles.

Your eyes rest on the french press as the coffee grounds seep into the water and it’s like your lips have a mind of their own when they ask the following question.

“So, alone tonight?” you ask with fake nonchalance and you swear Jimin tenses.

You can’t help yourself. From the moment you realized Dinah was absent you wanted to know why. They’ve been dating for almost a month, so that means they’d still be all over each other, you figured they’d want to spend New Year's together.

So how come Dinah isn’t here?

Jimin nods, eyes absentmindedly following your fingers as they trace the marble counter.

“What happened to Dinah? Didn’t want to spend New Years with our ugly asses?” you joke, hoping to lift the tension off his shoulders and rejoice when Jimin cracks a smile.

“No, no. Actually, her friends are throwing a party too…” he simply says, not giving you another explanation even though something else clearly bothers him. You don’t ask further, figuring he’ll tell you if he wants to, so you move to press the plunger down and pour the brown liquid into the cup Jimin handed you earlier.

“And I actually didn’t …” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip.

God, this is straight-up torture.

“Didn’t…?” you urge him on, sensing his desire to say whatever’s bothering him.

He takes a breath.

“Didn’t have the need to invite her…?” he admits, eyes on the steaming cup of coffee, struggling to put his thoughts into words as you stare at him utterly confused. He didn’t have the need to invite her? Like, he didn’t care if she was here?

No, Y/N, don’t get your hopes up.

Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean.. I didn’t want to.”

And you find him staring at you again, with those intense, magnetic eyes and your breath is sucked out of your lungs.

He didn’t want to invite her. Why? What does it mean? Why did he do it?

And why is he looking at you like that?

Did he-?

“Surprise!” a familiar female voice echoes through the kitchen as Dinah throws herself literally against Jimin, hugging his waist with an excited smile. No concern in her eyes over your panicked faces.

You don’t know if she heard your conversation but if she did, she doesn’t show it.

Jimin’s wide, panicked eyes travel between you and Dinah. “Dinah, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending New Year’s at Minoh’s?” he turns around to bring her forward and the intimacy hiding in the domestic action drives a knife through your chest.

“That party was boring as hell. And I missed you,” she says with a blinding smile and leans in to press a soft kiss on Jimin’s lips, ripping your heart in two.

You can’t stand this. You can’t stand to watch as she kisses him right in front of you and you feel like an outsider, glimpsing at something you long for but can’t have. Is it always gonna be this hard?

You swallow the lump in your throat, gripping the cup tighter and force a smile on your lips just in time for the couple to miss your crestfallen expression.

It’s time to get out of here.

“That’s great! You’re just in time to spend New Year’s together!” you exclaim with forceful enthusiasm and Dinah nods excitedly as Jimin looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have to deliver this bad boy!” you smile, pointing at the mug and you start walking away, already waiting for the moment you don’t have to keep that smile on your face any longer.

That seems to wake Jimin up as his eyes widen. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Have fun at the party!” you interrupt him, keeping the smile on for a little longer, before you turn your back at them, smile disappearing, steps fast as you miss Jimin’s face filled with despair.

.

.

Your steps bring you back to the living room, already having delivered the coffee to Ana’s room. Although Jimin’s suspicions were correct and you walked into a scene you’d rather forget, closing your eyes to avoid any more damage on your retina, resulting in you leaving the couple with a half-spilt coffee.

Not that they’ll be needing it now anyway.

Stepping into the main area of the party you can’t help the sour mood that takes over you, watching everyone have a good time. You were also having a good time until Dinah arrived.

Which reminds you. What did Jimin mean back then? Was it just stupid you with your tendency to read way too much into things or did he actually mean what you wanted him to?

And if he did, why is he still dancing with her?

Your eyes are stuck to the couple in question, dancing in the middle of the living room as a mid-tempo dance track plays through the speakers, Dinah’s hands wrapped around Jimin’s waist as he sways her softly to the beat.

The night started out so well. You were having fun, for once all worries put aside as you didn’t have to think about the book or Dinah, or Jimin. You were happy.

But then someone decided to shit all over that happiness and you were back to the beginning. Having your heart broken by your best friend and he doesn’t even know.

You take a breath to calm the erratic beating of your cracking heart when you see a too familiar face emerging from the kitchen.

Oh no, what is Jaehyun doing here?

You move quickly, dreading to talk to him, hoping he won’t see you but, alas, luck was never on your side.

His eyes spot you all the way across the room, with numerous people in between like he has laser vision or something. A smile takes over his lips as he waves at you and begins walking towards you.

God, no. No, you can’t deal with him right now. He’ll probably want another date and you know he deserves to know the truth but you just can’t do it right now.

You’re quick to move to the balcony, trying to lose him through the crown but his voice keeps calling you even outside. You slip through the people and into the living room, stopping to see him briefly lose you as his eyes scan the balcony.

You escape into the kitchen, hoping he won’t look for you here and in your hastiness to hide, you fall face-first into Seokjin’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry, you need to move!” you say urgently, trying to hide behind the massive wall he calls his shoulders.

Seokjin regards you with a suspicious glare. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hide from Jaehyun!” you bite through gritted teeth as your eyes scan the open area behind you. With relief you realise Jaehyun isn’t anywhere near, just a bunch of other people and Jimin talking with Dinah and Hoseok.

Your heart still clenches uncomfortably when Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.

“Why are you hiding from Jaehyun? Didn’t the date go well?” he asks you purely confused and with guilt, you realize you never told him nor Ana that you bailed.

You bite your lip. “I didn’t go…”

Seokjin’s eyes widen comically. “What?! Why?! I thought you wanted to!”

You groan rubbing your palm on your face. “I just… didn’t feel like it anymore! And now he’s here, looking for me and I don’t know what to do! Who invited him anyway?”

At that Seokjin has the decency to look guilty. “I may have seen him at the coffee shop and invited him… But in my defence I didn’t even know you bailed on him!” he looks at you with a scolding glare and another groan leaves your lips.

“Oh, shit here he comes…” Seokjin looks carefully behind you and you steal a glance to indeed see Jaehyun stepping into the living room and walking straight towards you.

“Okay, fuck, let me think…” you mumble in thought when you see something on the ceiling, hanging just a few centimetres behind Seokjin.

“Got it!” you exclaim, and when Seokjin doesn’t follow, you push him back so both of you stand right beneath the thing hanging from the ceiling and then you point at it, knowing he’ll catch the drift.

Seokjin’s eyes follow your fingers, only to widen in horror when they rest at what you're pointing at.

Mistletoe.

“No! No, no, no, I’m not kissing you so you can get rid of him!” he hisses, eyes swimming in denial and disbelief. But you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s your fault he’s here! So step the fuck up Kyle!” you hiss back and Seokjin looks less than thrilled.

“Don’t quote vines to me, you heathen, I won’t hesitate bitch!” he responds and you know you’re halfway winning him over.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this…” you reply, mastering the perfect puppy eyes.

The sound of his favourite vine has him yielding in a matter of seconds, choking back a laugh before he rolls his eyes. “Fine. But we gotta hurry up, he’s almost here,” Seokjin relents, eyes falling behind you.

“Buckle up,” is the only thing you say before grasping Seokjin’s panicked face and press your mouths together.

You stay like that for a few seconds, simply pressing your lips together like an awful K-drama kiss though there’s no romantic music playing in the background. The kiss is at its best… underwhelming. That’s what you were lusting after all those years? It certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations.

You lean back, staring at Seokjin who barely manages to conceal his weirded out face. “Is he gone?” you whisper and Seokjin nods in relief.

“Yes, he’s gone…” he mumbles, letting out a breath as you let his face free and take a step back, finally breathing freely.

“Don’t ever do that again!” he exclaims, his words followed by a loud gagging noise.

“Anything for you Beyonce!” you say, sharing the sentiment and you grab a random shot glass on the counter, to wash out the feeling of Seokjin’s clumsy mouth on yours.

“We don’t tell anyone. We take this to the grave and live the rest of our lives feeling slightly awkward with each other. Sounds good?” Seokjin states with wide eyes and you laugh at his seriousness.

“Ay, ay, captain! Now take a shot with me to erase the memory for good!” you say, filling two glasses with tequila and you hand him one.

“To forgetting this ever happened!” he raises his shot and you follow his movements before downing the contents of the glass.

“Amen to that.”

.

.

Half an hour later, its time for the countdown so the New Year can officially begin.

The automatic clock on Ana’s TV screen reads 23:59:03 and you rush to gather your friends together in one place, so the New Year can find all five of you together as it has for the last four years.

The rest of the attendees also gather in groups; friends, couples, coworkers, newly made acquaintances but all shimmering with the vibrating delight to welcome the New Year and the opportunities that are bound to come.

Ana and Hoseok are already counting down the numbers - admittedly a bit too early -, and Seokjin passes you four tequila shots to celebrate once the clock strikes midnight. But then he’s left with an extra one and realization strucks you.

“Hey, where’s Jimin? He’s supposed to be here!” you yell to be heard amidst the loud chattering of the crowd, but your question remains unanswered when Seokjin shrugs his shoulders in loss.

Ana looks around to find said-man but it’s Hoseok that finally puts an end to the mystery. “Uh, actually he went home!”

Your eyebrows furrow, confusion apparent in your eyes. He’s never missed out on this! How could he leave? You always spent New Year’s together, the five of you, it was your unique tradition, one you’ve expected him to keep up with.

Maybe he was feeling a bit under the weather, you try to reason with yourself. Let’s not get mad at him before knowing the whole story.

“Wait, so he left without telling anyone? Is he okay? Did he even tell Dinah he’d leave?” you question back, aware of Ana & Seokjin’s wary gazes but you don’t bother to acknowledge them.

Thankfully, Hoseok still isn’t entirely sober to notice them either and start asking questions.

He just shakes his head at you. “Oh, no, they both left. Oh, the countdown’s started!”

As people begin shouting along with the voice on the TV you can’t help but stare aimlessly into space.

They both left. Jimin ditched you, all four of you to spend New Year’s with Dinah. Alone.

And it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It shouldn’t feel as much as a personal attack but it does. He left all four of you but it still feels like he specifically left you behind. As if he doesn’t care anymore. Before all that the chance of the two of you ever happening was abysmal. But it was still there, however small. You were fine with that cause at least you knew he valued you as a friend.

Now, you’re not even sure of that anymore.

You should be fine with him leaving. You’re just his friend.

And yet the heartbreak is overbearing.

Seokjin looks at you carefully as Hoseok keeps counting down to one, entirely unaware of what just happened as Ana counts with him but her eyes are on you.

You give her and Seokjin a weak smile, before averting your eyes quickly to count as well, not bearing to see the looks of pity in their eyes.

You hate this.

The clock strikes midnight.

You’ve never felt more alone.

.

.

The next morning finds you exhausted when you wake up on Seokjin’s couch. You’re not sure you could handle going back to the apartment and having Dinah and Jimin across the hall from you. Hoseok was going to spend the night at Ana’s, meaning firstly he kinda gave Jimin the pass to run wild and secondly you couldn’t crash at Ana’s. Of course, she insisted it was okay but you didn’t want to cockblock her on New Year’s. So Seokjin offered his home as an alternative which you happily accepted.

You’re dreading to go back to your flat, though already knowing it’s an inevitable curse, you leave a note for Seokjin to find when he wakes up and then you leave his apartment.

On the way home, you wonder if you should trek over to the donut shop around the corner for some heavenly delicacies but then you’d have to buy Jimin and Dinah some. And that is simply something you’re not willing to do.

Hopefully, they’ll be both asleep when you arrive, too tired to be up at 10 am on New Year’s, so you’ll get your chance to quietly slip into your room and avoid everyone for the rest of the week.

Maybe even a month until those stupid feelings finally decide to disappear.

You try your best to be as soundless as possible when you unlock the front door. You enter the living room on your tiptoes, closing the door quietly behind you before moving to throw your coat on the hanger.

The moment you think you’re alone passes by quickly when you hear the door of the fridge being shut and immediately turn around to see Jimin staring at you with bleary eyes. His hair is a mess as he’s clad in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants as his pjs, a cup of what must be steaming coffee on one hand as the other runs through his locks. You find yourself salivating.

“Where did you go this early in the morning?” his gruff voice comes out, purely confused and before you get to correct him, his eyes fall on your figure. And he realizes you’re still dressed the same as last night.

“Did you just get here?” he asks, his voice a tad too sharp and accusing to be considered friendly and your arms wrap around your middle protectively.

“Uh, yeah… I crashed at Seokjin’s… Too tired to come back after helping Ana clean up…” you joke, forcing a laugh to hopefully ease the sudden tension hanging in the air.

Though your airy laugh doesn’t reach Jimin. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall to his right, jaw tense in what seems almost as anger before he takes a quick sip of his coffee and slum the cup on the counter.

“Ugh… are you okay-?” your confusion is apparent in your voice as Jimin walks off the kitchen, down the hallway.

“I’m going back to sleep…” he mumbles through clenched teeth before he disappears inside his bedroom and closes the door with a loud bang.

You stare weirdly at his door, bewildered by his entire behaviour but you’re still too sleepy to let it get to you. So instead you opt for crawling over to your room and hide beneath the covers.

.

.

The days after New Year’s turn out weirder and weirder to the point of questioning your mental state.

Seokjin still feels somewhat awkward around you after the kiss but instead of avoiding you, as any normal human being would do, he actively seeks you out, clinging to you and following you around like a shadow, as if the over-exposure will help him get rid of the awkwardness faster.

True to your words, none of you have said anything about it to the others, so you were half waiting for everyone to be immediately weirded out by Seokjin’s sudden display of affection. But apart from Ana that gave you some scarce confused looks, the other two haven’t made a single comment, as if this is a completely normal situation. They barely blink when even yourself gets creeped out from Seokjin’s insistent coddling.

Which brings you to the other weird thing happening in the flat.

Jimin barely talks to you anymore.

You don’t have the slightest idea why. If you said something, or done something that offended him, you’re none the wiser. And how are you supposed to know when he barely greets you in the morning?

Every time you attempt conversation, there’s always something he has to do, which sounds completely ironic, given you were the one that kinda did the same before.

Not to cover your own ass but you did that for the sake of your friendship! If Jimin ever finds out you’re into him, you can’t bear to think the effect this might have on your friendship.

Whereas Jimin might as well be angry over such a small thing as you using his earbuds.

It wouldn’t have bothered you that much if it wasn’t for Dinah.

Well, she barely does anything, it's just that Jimin always goes to her when he has the chance. Nights spent with all five of you together munching on popcorn in front of the TV, turn into awkward gatherings as Ana and Hoseok pair up against you and Seokjin, leaving the two of you cringing whenever the couple does something too coupley.

At New Year’s Eve, he practically admitted he wasn’t that much into her anymore and now he’s always with her. Did he lie back then? And if so why?

Everything is wrong and you don’t know how to fix it.

If only Jimin hadn’t begun dating Dinah, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have realised you liked him, he wouldn’t have spent so much time with her, he wouldn’t abandon the four of you for her.

Although, a small part of you screams you would’ve realised you liked Jimin either way. It wasn’t about Dinah.

And yet you can’t help the loathing that emerges like bile in your throat when you hear her name.

Or when Jimin, after two weeks of avoiding the rest of you, announces you are to throw a dinner so you can get to know her better.

You feel the headache splitting your skull open.

.

.

It’s nearly impossible to hide your sour mood once Dinah steps into the apartment.

A switch has flipped and where there was a smile from joking around with Ana, now there’s a permanent scowl on your face as you refuse to even acknowledge the newcomer, as she greets the rest of your friends.

Once she says hello to you too, you mumble something that resembles a greeting, not even bothering to look at her direction, as Ana regards you with a warning glare.

Deep down you know most of your attitude comes from Jimin’s behaviour these last couple of days, and Dinah’s direct contribution is only at roughly 10%. But you’re stubborn, immature and putting the blame on her seems like an easy way to cope with the situation and the hurricane of feelings swirling in your mind.

No one said it’s the right one. But for now, it’s what keeps you from hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in self-pity. Not that you won’t do that later.

You result in setting the table with Hoseok in silence, not really in the mood to talk, as everyone else sits in the living room and you catch glimpses of their conversation.

Seokjin and Ana talk about a new addition Seokjin wants to put on the menu of his restaurant, while Jimin and Dinah dally on the other side of the room.

You think you’re gonna barf.

“Ugh… Y/N are you okay?”

You turn around at the voice, surprised to see Hoseok stare at you with confused and worried eyes. Shit, did he sniff out something?

“Ah, yes! Why?” you put forward your most cheery voice in the hopes it will throw him off.

“‘Cause you keep stabbing the meat with the forks…” he comments carefully, leaning a bit backwards as his worry grows, once your confused eyes meet his.

And then you look back to the meat and, surely, all the forks you were supposed to pass around the table are stabbed into the steaks on the centre of the table.

Your eyes widen as you press your lips together in horror. God, why can’t you just behave for once?

You rush to remove all the utensils, dumping them into the sink and you pick out new ones, as Hoseok keeps staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine!” you respond with a clipped voice and you’re not sure what Hoseok hears in your voice but he drops it, in favour of placing the napkins around the table. Though you can still feel his weirded-out stare from time to time.

Once the table is set, Hoseok calls for everyone to gather around and one by one flock to their seats.

And as you put the finishing touches, you can’t help but hear Jimin’s conversation with Dinah.

“We have ice cream for dessert, you’re gonna love this one, it’s heavenly!” he says with excitement.

“Oh, only if it’s vegan, me and regular milk don’t go along…” she jokes and as Jimin says he’ll have someone check, an idea pops into your head. A petty, childish idea but it gives you some purpose for now.

So, she’s lactose intolerant? It would surely be a shame if she were to eat normal ice cream.

And by “shame” you mean hilarious.

The little voice in the back of your head berates you for acting so immature but at this moment you desperately need this. You can be salty for one evening.

What’s the harm?

.

.

Once everyone’s plates are empty, the lot of you migrate to the living room, as you stay in the kitchen to get the ice cream out of the freezer.

Jimin told Ana to ask you to check for the ice cream some time ago, -can you believe it, he didn’t even ask you! He had to talk to Ana for god’s sake-, and you did. But just as you’d suspected it wasn’t vegan.

So your plan is good to go.

You have Seokjin help you carry the bowls of ice cream to the living room and you pass each one around as they’re expected with excited noises.

Ana almost moans at the delicious flavour and Hoseok chuckles at his girlfriend’s antics as you sit next to Seokjin and dive straight into your own bowl.

During dinner it seemed everyone got along just fine with Dinah, talking and joking together as if she’s been a part of this group for a long time. And it bothers you even more.

You also recognize her attempts to get close to you as well but really you can’t be bothered. It comes to the point where she talked to you and all you did is give her a one-word answer before turning your attention somewhere else.

Though right at this moment your attention is solely on her as she takes a scoop out of her ice cream.

“Mmm, it’s really good!” she says excitedly to a smiling Jimin, as she swoops in for another spoon.

But after a few seconds, her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, as she keeps the ice cream in her mouth, looking as if she’s trying to figure out something. You can barely contain your gloating.

“Uhm, this ice cream is vegan right?” she rushes to say, eyes growing just a bit wider with what seems like panic.

Ana turns to look at you and you answer with the most innocent look you can manage, acting like you just realised you didn’t.

“Oh, oops! I guess I forgot to check, sorry! Why, are you lactose intolerant?” you respond in the first complete sentence you’ve given her tonight, internally gloating at her misfortune.

She swallows, her eyes widen even more, traces of fear growing in them. “Ugh, no-”

What does she mean no?

“I’m allergic.”

At once every conversation ceases, all eyes resting on her, wide in shock.

Fuck.

Jimin is the first to react.

“What?! Shit. Are you okay, should we take you to a hospital?” he asks in panic, placing the ice cream as further away from her as he can while you’re left staring at her in horror.

“Well, since I can feel my tongue thwelling, I thay we thould,” she comments shaking, losing the ability to pronounce the letter “s” as more time passes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you struggle to say, full of remorse, but no one seems to hear you as the situation goes haywire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Seokjin is immediately on his feet. “I’ll drive you there, you guys clean up here okay?” he commands urgently and as you feel the guilt overwhelming you, you stand up form your spot in an instant.

“I’ll come with!” your voice trembles as you reach for your bag while Jimin and Seokjin help Dinah out of the apartment hurriedly.

But as soon as you speak Jimin’s furious eyes are on you.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

And then he slams the door behind them.

You’re left staring at the piece of wood with trembling eyes, as Ana and Hoseok simply stare at you, Hoseok’s eyes wide in shock as yours while Ana’s are filled with disappointment.

You. Fucking. Idiot.

.

.

It’s almost four hours later when Jimin and Seokjin return, finding only Hoseok in the living room waiting for them as he asks them how it went.

But Jimin doesn’t bother answering him as he instead marches with loud, angry steps towards your room.

On the other side of the door, your nails are nearly non-existent from all the nervous thinking that has plagued your mind for the last few hours. Your texts to both of them asking how Dinah was, were left unanswered and you were left brewing in your own nerves.

Until the door opens and Jimin walks in.

You freeze in your spot once your eyes meet his and see the undecipherable expression on his face.

You only manage to mumble a guilt-ridden “hi” and he closes the door behind him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath.

Although it seems to not do much.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

Your answer is immediate, full of regret. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Is she okay?” you ask, out of your wits with panic as you wait for him to answer.

He seems too tired, too exhausted as he responds. “They gave her an antihistamine, she’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh but then his eyes are full of rage as they rest on you again. “But do you realize what might have happened if we were a bit late?! She could have died!” he yells at you, voice full of unbridled outrage as his eyes grow even more with the passing of time and you feel smaller and smaller.

“I’m sorry!-” you repeat again, feeling incredibly awful with what you’ve done, “-I thought she was just lactose intolerant, not allergic!” you say in hopes of redeeming yourself even just a bit but maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say as it seems Jimin’s anger only grows.

“This isn’t the fucking point, Y/N!”, you flinch at the volume of his voice, “The point is you've been trying to sabotage this for weeks! You think I haven't seen the side-glances and the mocking giggles?! I fucking know you don’t like her but couldn’t you just pretend for my sake? Do you have to go to such lengths to let us all know you hate her?!” he spits at you with wild eyes and you fight the urge to wrap your arms around your frame.

“I didn’t poison her on purpose…” you mumble in explanation and your eyes stare at your feet, not daring to look at him, drowning in shame.

“No, but all the other things were!” he refutes with impatience, but then he sighs. His shoulders fall down but his jaw’s still clenched. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? I know what she did better than anyone, believe me, but people are allowed a second chance, and frankly, it’s not your place to decide if she deserves it or not. All I was asking of you was to be decent towards her because I was stupid enough to think you’re my friend above everything and you’d respect my wishes!” he confesses, face crest-fallen and what you once feared, -him looking like this because of you-, has finally come true. You can feel your eyes watering but you can do nothing to stop them.

“I am your friend!” you respond desperately with pleading eyes, trying to stop him from questioning how much he means to you. If only he knew exactly how much.

“Are you really?”, he questions back, “Because the rest of the guys are my friends too and they don’t have a problem with her. It’s just you! And if you can’t accept her and be happy for me then…” he stops, eyes falling on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze and you have an awful feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“...Then we’re better off as just roommates,” he delivers the final blow.

You can’t believe your ears. There’s no way, no way.

You feel your throat closing up. “...You don’t mean that…” you mumble in denial, eyes blurry and voice almost breaking at the possibility of losing your best friend.

Jimin still refuses to look at you, his lips pursed as he shakes his head. “Yeah? And you said you’ll support me no matter what so I guess we both said things we don’t mean.”

“Or I guess that was just you,” he says in a final tone, eyes serious this time on you before he turns towards your door to leave your bedroom. To leave your life.

You can’t breathe.

“Jimin-” you manage to stutter out although you feel like choking. You can’t lose him, you simply can’t.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he snaps back but stops himself before saying anything else, pressing his lips together.

Then he takes another breath. He collects himself and before you manage to stop him, he closes the door on his way out with a loud bang.

And you can’t move. Your eyes simply stare at the door, refusing to let any tear drop and you purse your lips, feeling a mixture of stubbornness and sorrow.

He left. How could he? How could he push you aside for her?! You’ve been friends for a little more than five years now and he ruins your friendship because of her?! Her?!

You rush to lock the door behind him with blurry eyes, putting the blame on him as for now you need this to stay sane.

Tomorrow you’ll know that everything was your fault.

But for now, you choose to believe otherwise.

You step back from your door, crossing your arms on your chest in defiance.

“If he doesn’t want to be friends then we won’t be!” you exclaim in an attempt to salvage your broken ego but once those words are out of your mouth, once they finally feel real, you can’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

You have to cover your mouth to drown the sound of your sobs.

You can’t let him hear.

At that moment there’s a knock on your door, before “Y/N? It’s Seokjin, can I come in?”

His voice is quiet, calm, reminding you that he and Hoseok probably heard everything. You can’t deal with it. You can’t deal with any of it.

“Go away, Seokjin…” you mumble with a low voice in order to hide the fact you’re crying.

You hear him sighing. “Come one, at least talk to me-”

“Go away!” your voice is coarse as you yell back, for a second not realising it was you. You know you're gonna regret yelling at him later, but you just want to be alone.

There’s silence on the other side. Then the echoing steps of someone leaving.

And then you break down in the middle of your room.

Alone.

The only sound coming from your quiet sobs.

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

Keep it together. Don’t lose focus now just because she looks like she’s about to cry.

It’s easier said than done, but Jimin manages to remain focused on what he came here to do. Even if it’s just barely.

He can’t go on like this. Maybe if you were happy for him and actually supported him, things would be different. But when you act like a spoiled baby that didn’t get her wish with no excuse whatsoever when you were supposed to be okay with Dinah… there’s not much he can do.

Not when your behaviour acts as a false beacon of hope. One he can’t afford to see. Otherwise, he might do something he can’t take back.

He’s got to be firm and decisive.

So he turns around to leave before he takes it all back.

“Jimin-” he hears the breaking in your voice, knowing how much this may weigh you down but all he can feel right now is unfairness. It’s unfair how he wants to move on but with one single word he finds his resolve crumbling.

You shouldn’t affect him this much.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he begins but stops himself. What was he about to say? Something he shouldn’t, probably.

Still, you stop talking. And you just stare at him, with disbelief written in your eyes. He avoids those in favour of staying true to his words.

There’s no saying what he’ll do if he meets them.

So, he simply leaves your bedroom.

Marching through the small distance between your door and his, he can see Hoseok and Seokjin, from the corner of his eyes, staring.

They probably heard everything.

He steps into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, needing some space. To calm down, to take a breath, to finally think about what he just did.

You looked like you were ready to break down at any moment.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been that harsh with you. Maybe he was a bit too hasty, too vengeful in making that decision.

Someone knocks on his door.

What if it’s you?

His steps can’t take him to his door any faster.

But it’s just Hoseok.

“... what?” he hears himself get defensive once he sees your door still closed shut behind the other man.

Hoseok stares at him with understanding. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Jimin…” he comments with a soft voice, always knowing how to approach Jimin when he’s angry, better than anyone.

Jimin sighs, still feeling stubborn but he knows by the end of what Hoseok has to say, he’ll almost certainly listen.

“... Let’s talk about it okay? I’m sure Y/N wants that too…” at those words Jimin swears he feels a small pinch of pain on his chest. He wishes they’re true.

“Seokjin is also gonna talk to her…”

But those words manage to bring his stubbornness back full force.

There’s a chuckle coming out of Jimin but none of it sounds happy.

“Of course he will…” he snaps at Hoseok, who bites his lip once he realises his mistake. “Yeah, Hoseok, I think I’ll pass,” the bitterness is evident in his words, not bothering to hide it from the one person that knows the cause of it.

Hoseok’s eyes widen once he realises Jimin is about to close the door on him. “Wait, Jimin, don’t-”

“Goodnight,” is what Jimin simply says before closing the door on his best friend.

.

.

He can’t be sure when everything began to change. He can’t place a finger on the exact moment his feelings had changed.

On the exact moment, he fell in love with you.

Was it the moment you walked through the door as a roommate applicant? He can’t be sure. But somewhere along the way, the feelings bloomed, outgrew everything he ever felt for anyone.

He just was a bit late at realizing it.

When he woke up after you slept together and his eyes rested on you as you slept, he felt a pain in the middle of his chest. But it didn’t feel like a regular pain, it felt like his heart was expanding like he was experiencing growing pains. Because while he stared at you, he realised there was nothing else he’d rather do. You looked so serene, so at peace sleeping next to him, he never wanted the moment to end.

And that’s how he realised.

Of course, he had to push his newly-found knowledge aside when he saw you nearly going into panic mode. Just because he felt like this, didn’t mean you did too.

So he hid those feelings, playing it cool for the sake of being your friend.

But this shit was difficult when he was surrounded by you twenty-four-seven.

Right before Seokjin’s birthday he had sworn he’d finally tell you. He thought that maybe, just maybe you’d like him back, or at least he’d get to have a weight lifted off his chest.

But then he saw you hugging Seokjin…

He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything. He was just trying to reach the bathroom when he saw you wrapping your arms around Seokjin. Around the guy you had a crush on for the past few years. It was like a stab to his stomach, even more so when he knew you weren’t really into hugs and when you did hug someone, it usually meant a lot to you.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. He also couldn’t believe how much it hurt and how much he needed something to distract himself.

Or, rather, someone.

That’s how Dina came along.

He never intended to string her along this far though. At that night she was just a distraction, someone familiar who knew how to take care of him, despite everything that had transpired between them in the past.

But Dinah kept trying, kept fighting vigorously for that second chance and he couldn’t help but acknowledge how much she’d changed over the past year. So he let her back into his life, hoping that at least she’d help him forget about you.

And it worked for some time. Until that night.

Until the night you were supposed to go on a date with Seokjin and cancelled it because of him - he’s sure of it even if you vehemently denied it back then-. The night you were dressed on that tight, little, black dress, the one that reminded him of that night eight months ago and suddenly his mind was going haywire with thoughts, or rather, memories of you.

He swears he saw hunger in your eyes when his palm was on your thigh, scorching both of you at the connected spot and if it wasn’t for Hoseok’s interruption, he was sure he’d’ve lost control.

Jimin hates to admit it but that night he kept thinking of you, of your eyes, of your lips, of the way your thighs had fit around his waist back then, of the sound of his name falling from your lips as he touched himself, trying to drown his moans onto his pillow.

He couldn’t talk to you after that for a couple of days. Too ashamed, too embarrassed, too enamoured with you, he thought you’d be able to see right through him.

But once things got back to normal, they were ruined once more.

Dinah appeared at the worst of times at New Year’s. He was so close to letting you know how he feels, encouraged by your reaction when you ditched your date for him, which was another green light for him at the moment. But Dinah showed up and you were out of there before he even got a chance to explain.

Hoseok had found him then, drinking away his sorrows.

“And the worst of all is, she’s dating Seokjin, which I now realise makes me a big jerk and an awful friend as I keep trying to steal away his girlfriend,” Jimin mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

Hoseok seemed perplexed but that might have been from the near-alcohol-poisoning he just had before Dr. Ana “nursed” him back to health. “And remind me, how are you sure she’s dating Seokjin? They haven’t told us anything yet…”

Jimin stared into his drink, already sort of tipsy on alcohol and self-pity. “Saw ‘em huggin’...” he mumbled behind the glass. Hoseok had to do a double-take at that.

“What?” Hoseok responded in disbelief. “That’s it? Dude, I do that with Seokjin all the time, that doesn’t mean I’m dating him!”

Jimin sighed in annoyance. “It was more than that okay? There was this feeling to it! I could tell it wasn’t just a simple hug!” Jimin groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand.

Hoseok rolled his eyes at his friend. “Still you can never be sure by just a hug! Have you talked to her?”

“No, I tried to but Dinah came in and she left as soon as she saw her…” Jimin admitted and Hoseok almost laughed out loud at his friend’s idiocy.

“Bro, if that isn’t a sign to talk to her, then I’m not dating the most bomb person in the whole ass world.”

Jimin wasn’t impressed as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Hoseok wasn’t deterred. “I can see you have an objection here and it’s a complete disgrace to Ana’s name, so Imma pound you to logic city later, you limp dick, but right now you need to talk to Y/N!” he concluded as he shoved Jimin out of his stool.

Jimin groaned as he stood up, but as his eyes fell to the bottom of his drink, he realised Hoseok was right. He should’ve talked to you first. Maybe he had misunderstood and there was nothing going on with Seokjin.

And right then as he saw you bumping into Seokjin, he figured it was a great opportunity to find out what was happening between the two of you from both parties involved.

But as his steps got him closer and closer, he saw you kiss him.

He froze. He couldn’t look, couldn’t bear, but still, his eyes stayed glued to the both of you as your arms circled around his neck to press him closer.

Jimin felt like vomiting.

He turned around right then and there and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He gave Dinah a half-assed apology as he also sent her on her merry way and he left for his apartment. He couldn’t even tell Hoseok why he was leaving the party, only announcing his departure and disappearing.

It was the first time in years he spent New Year’s alone.

He hated it.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’ve done the worst sleep in ages.

You rub your eyes, immediately regretting it when the slightest touch has them stinging from how swollen they are from all the crying.

Right. It wasn’t just a dream.

You drag your feet begrudgingly across the floor to the bathroom to splurge some water on your face, in a futile attempt to calm down your puffy eyes. Before you’re off to the kitchen where Hoseok is currently eating his breakfast cereal.

Once he hears the sound of footsteps, he raises his head, only to see you awkwardly walk in the kitchen, eyes downcast as you go for the fridge.

“Hey,” you hear him say.

With your face facing the inside of the fridge you take a breath, letting the low temperature calm you down.

You knew it was coming. Hoseok definitely listened to everything along with Seokjin. And yet you don’t feel like replying.

Nonetheless, you turn around and acknowledge him with a tilt of your head as you move to have the coffee machine working.

“So… How you feeling?”

The question prompts a humourless chuckle out of you and Hoseok sighs in response.

“I know, that’s a lousy question. I just…” he takes a breath, eyes gentle on you, not at all judgemental as you’d expect them, after what you’ve done yesterday, “I mean I know Jimin’s side of the story, but I never heard yours…” he concludes, letting a soft smile take over his features.

Huh. Your side of the story.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you resolve to looking down at the floor as your hands grab tightly at your empty cup.

Hoseok, sensing your hesitation, sighs resigned but he doesn’t push you on it.

A moment passes when both of you remain silent until your coffee is ready. You pour the liquid into your cup, almost moaning in relief you don’t have to stay here another second.

But before you get to leave Hoseok speaks up again.

“I know things may look like a mess right now but I’m sure this won’t be the case forever. Jimin… yeah, he’s mad but you're his best friend. He’s gonna change his mind soon…” Hoseok’s gentle words reach you and, oh god, how do you want to believe them.

You turn to look at him and see the hope written in his eyes.

You give him what might have resembled a smile if you weren’t feeling so beat-down.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me Hobi…” you whisper and Hoseok’s face falls just a bit at how broken you sound.

“Things will change, I’m certain of it,” still he replies, eyes full of determination that make the slightest sliver of hope go through the cracks of your sorrow.

Right then another pair of footsteps echoes as Jimin walks into the kitchen.

His sudden arrival has you both freeze, eyes resting on the newcomer and while Hoseok keeps on looking at Jimin, you’re quick to avert your gaze, the lump in your throat growing.

A second passes where Jimin doesn’t move forward or backwards. Like he isn’t sure if you could be in the same room anymore after yesterday's events. Your heart pangs at the thought.

He coughs awkwardly.

“I didn’t know you were awake, I can come back later-” he begins softly, eyes avoiding yours as well, making the pain grow a little sharper.

“No, it’s okay, I was done anyway…” you interrupt him, hands gripping tightly at your steaming cup as if it is a life board.

And without another word, you’re out of the kitchen.

.

.

{Hoseok’s POV}

A week passes by and it seems there’s no hope for reconciliation on the horizon.

Both of you went the extra miles and rearranged your schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. Jimin spends nearly every night at Dinah’s, barely seeing the others and you spend days locked into your room under the pretence of writing, but really you’re just avoiding everyone.

The rest of the guys don’t know what to do anymore.

It’s a Friday afternoon when Hoseok is over at Ana’s place, the mood in his apartment too heavy to bear and he can’t bear this anymore.

“Babe, I’m back, they didn’t have any vinegar chips so I bought oregano instead. Can you imagine the disgrace?” he shouts as soon as he steps back into the apartment, after a small walk to the seven eleven down the street.

But instead of hearing his girlfriend’s welcoming back, he hears her sigh. Then he sees her walk around the corner from the kitchen with her phone pressed to her ear like she’s in a conference call.

“I still don’t understand why won’t you just tell him!” Ana speaks on the phone, sending a tired wave to her boyfriend who looks at her entirely confused.

Hoseok just takes his shoes off and plops himself on the couch, sensing Ana won’t be done with that phone call anytime soon.

There’s a silence from her side as she listens intently to what the other person is saying. Hoseok decides to open the bag of chips just to keep his hands occupied.

After a while, Ana talks again.

“But what if she doesn’t tell him?” she? First, she mentioned a “him” and now a “she”? Hoseok’s getting more confused by the second.

“And what about Jimin then? Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?” her voice is stern, like a mother berating her child and a sound of understanding leaves Hoseok’s lips, as he concludes Ana is talking to you.

There’s a small silence from your side, indicating no response to Ana’s question and so she keeps talking.

“And I’m talking about the whole truth Y/N.”

Hoseok’s intrigued. What whole truth?

“I know I was the first person to be against telling him about your feelings but with how poorly you handled the situation, I don’t think you can possibly make anything worse!”

At that, Hoseok’s eyes blow wide open. Feelings?! What feelings?! 

He’s immediately up, approaching Ana with quick steps as she listens to your response. Your voice, even though muffled through the phone, sounds weaker, sadder. Disheartened.

Ana’s words are softer now. “But you’ll never be able to do this. You’ll never be ready but, the truth is, no one ever is. That’s kinda how it goes and that’s okay. But you gotta do it at some point, sooner or later,” she talks to you calmly, Hoseok sensing her sorrow at hearing you like this.

But he can’t shake the feeling that he can somehow help if he finds out what those feelings are.

Ana sighs tiredly as if what she just said didn’t have much of an impact. “Y/N-” but before she gets to respond you hang up.

Ana gasps while staring at her phone. “She just hung up on me, I can’t believe it, how dare?” she says to no one in particular as she rubs her hands on her face tiredly.

“Tough luck?” Hoseok comments wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana welcomes the embrace, her hands winding around his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“She just won’t listen! She’s so infuriatingly stubborn and it’s driving me nuts!” she blows a stray hair out of her face, accidentally tickling Hoseok’s skin in the process and he chuckles.

“Kinda like you then?” he teases as he finally pushes that stray lock behind her ear and she pokes out her tongue at him in retaliation before falling into peaceful tranquillity.

Hoseok hates to disrupt this but he has to ask her what all of those things meant. For the sake of Jimin.

“Hey, babe…” he begins and Ana hums in acknowledgement.

“When you talked about Y/N’s feelings…” he feels her stiffen in his embrace but nonetheless he carries on, “... what did you mean?”

Ana takes a breath. “I guess there’s no point in not telling you now…” she speaks softly before taking another breath, one Hoseok holds until he hears her answer.

“Y/N… she likes Jimin. Well I mean that’s what she says anyway. I think it’s way more than that…” Ana admits sadly but Hoseok’s mind goes into overdrive.

“Are you serious…?” he asks in what can be perceived as a calm demeanour but in reality, his head is about to explode.

Ana chuckles calmly, still in Hoseok’s embrace. “I know right?”

Oh my god, they’re both idiots, he thinks. But he has to do something now.

“Oh god, those giant baboons!” he almost yells, making Ana flinch and take a step back to look at him perplexed.

“Hoseok…?”

He laughs incredulously as he takes a step back, trying to process the situation.

“For how long?” he asks and Ana looks more weirded out by the second.

“Two months, give or take?” Ana responds with narrowed eyes.

Hoseok chuckles. “That’s…” when Jimin started going out with Dinah, of course, it all makes sense!

“Seriously our friends are the worst idiots ever!” he complains once more.

“Okay, now do you mind telling me what’s going on?” she retaliates, getting irritated with her boyfriend and his tendency of not explaining anything for the dramatics.

“Jimin likes her back!” he shouts out loud, the magnificence of what he found out too overwhelming to bear.

Ana’s eyes widen. “What? How can that be? What about Dinah?”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at her. “He began dating her again after that one night stand that only happened because he saw Y/N hugging Seokj- Wait! What about Seokjin?”

Ana seems confused. “What about Seokjin?”

“Isn’t Y/N dating him?”

Ana almost bursts out in giggles. “What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Cause of the hug!”

“So what, a simple hug means automatically they’re dating each other?”

“Well, we all know Y/N hates hugs, plus she had a crush on him so it would be believable- Wait, that’s not the point. So Y/N isn’t dating Seokjin?”

“Nope. Never did,” Ana concludes as both of them fall into the same realization.

“So Jimin did all that stuff…” Ana begins, not quite believing the absurdity of the situation.

“...Because he thought Seokjin was dating Y/N,” Hoseok admits tiredly.

“We gotta tell Jimin,” Ana grabs her phone to punch in his number before Hoseok stops her.

“Wait…” he stares at the phone, the cogs in his mind whirling before his eyes light up.

“I got a better idea.”

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

Sweat still drips down his forehead as Jimin bids goodbye to his students, after the end of his contemporary class. He reaches for his water bottle and heads for the teachers’ lounge where his stuff is before he gets to his last class.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before pressing the now lukewarm bottle on the nape of his neck, to get some sort of relief.

Once again, his focus wasn’t entirely on the class. It has been like that ever since your fight, but at least it started getting better as time passed. Still not at its best though.

He finds himself feeling guilty more than he thought he would. Guilty towards you, towards Dinah. It’s a mess.

Admittedly, he was really mad at you but as he got to think it over, he realised he acted too rashly in cutting you off. And he misses you already.

But the thing is… you haven't made a move to reconcile either. That could be because you’re afraid of him pushing you away again. But shouldn't you make the first step? If you did, Jimin is sure he would forgive you on the spot.

He shakes his head tiredly as he enters the teachers’ lounge and reaches for his backpack. Everything’s a mess.

And then there’s Dinah. Dinah who’s changed, who’s kind and understanding. Dinah who he strings along and who’s possibly already aware of Jimin’s use of her as a distraction. They both know that, even though Dinah’s changed and everything’s seemingly fine, the relationship is doomed this time around as well.

Although this time it’s Jimin’s fault.

He needs to come clean to her. He has to end this.

Right then his phone begins ringing.

Once he sees the contact name, he’s a little less willing to answer it.

“What do you want?” is his response once he picks up and there’s an awkward chuckle at the other end before the caller finally replies.

“Whoa, okay, forward, can’t you buy me a drink first, champ?” Seokjin tries to make the tension disappear unsuccessfully, resulting in Jimin not even answering that particular quip.

He hears Seokjin sigh on the other side, before “Anyway, can’t I just call my friend to see how he’s doing? It’s been a while since the last time we talked…” the other man admits cautiously and Jimin’s defensiveness slowly ebbs away to give place to additional guilt. He’s the one blowing off all his friends because he wants space. Or more precisely, he thinks, because he’s a coward, too afraid to really deal with the situation, so instead picking the easy way out, at the expense of his friends.

He rubs his face with his hands, before letting out a breath. “Yeah, I know, things have been kind of…” Jimin trails off but Seokjin hums, as if he understands what Jimin means without him having to say it out loud.

“Yeah…” Seokjin agrees quietly and Jimin feels more horrible as time goes by. When did he begin to feel such animosity towards his friend? They used to be really close ever since they worked together at the same shift, and now Jimin can barely be in the same room as him. It’s not Seokjin’s fault in any way and the truth is Jimin’s animosity arises not towards Seokjin but more towards himself.

He has stuff he needs to work on.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” comes Seokjin’s response that has Jimin sitting up straight in his seat, terrified of what his friend wants to talk to him about.

And it seems his fears were not unjustified.

“How long have you liked Y/N?”

There it is.

Jimin takes a breath, panic trying to take over him but he wills it to go away and answer his friend. Even if he’s terrified to do so.

“I…” he begins, audible shakiness colouring his voice, “... how do you know?”

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Hoseok told me…”

Jimin takes another breath, one full of guilt.

“Look, I… I’m sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did! And I know it’s awful of me to have done this but, yeah, for some time I had thought of acting on it. But now that I know for certain you’re together, I wouldn’t even dream of-”

“First of all, Y/N and I are not together.” Seokjin interrupts the babbling idiot and Jimin stops mid-sentence.

He blinks, uncertain. “I… what?”

Seokjin sighs with a chuckle. “Y/N and I aren’t dating,” he repeats.

Jimin opens his mouth like a fish, in complete and utter shock. “But… but I saw you…” he states full of doubt, almost like a question.

He can almost hear Seokjin raising his eyebrow. “You saw us doing what?”

The lump in his throat doesn’t make this any easier. “I saw you kissing a-a-aand-and hugging!” he retaliates, trying to support his reasoning.

Seokjin sighs once more, the gesture coming off him naturally by now. “Okay, she kissed me because she wanted to avoid a dude she ghosted, I had little to no say in this!” Seokjin responds in a typical Seokjin fashion.

But Jimin has more questions. “A dude she ghosted?”

“Yeah, she was supposed to go on a date with this guy in my restaurant but blew him off for some reason…”

Wait.

“When was this?” Jimin asks, eager but nervous to find out the answer.

“A couple of days before Christmas.”

So that wasn’t a date with Seokjin but just a rando?

God, Jimin has fucked up big time.

“And what about the hug?” he asks for the last time, to make sure he resolves any misunderstanding.

“What hug? Oh, you mean on my birthday? Dude, that was just her coming clean about her past crush on me and us moving past this like a couple of adults.”

Jimin’s throat constricts uncomfortably but in unbelievable hope. “Past crush?”

Seokjin’s smile is nearly audible. “Yeah, “past”. Know why? Because she has feelings for someone else.”

And just as easily as Seokjin has given him hope, he just as easily rips it away.

“Oh…?” Jimin barely manages to utter, voice almost breaking alongside his heart. “Who?”

Seokjin groans on the other side, taking Jimin wholly by surprise by the irritated tone in the older man’s voice. “Oh my god, you really are both idiots,” he says almost to himself, “You, you soggy tit! Do you really think she did all that to Dinah simply because she didn’t like her? No, she was fucking jealous!” Seokjin concludes, voice rushed and angry to berate his friend and finally put an end to this huge mess.

But Jimin hears only one word.

You.

She has feelings for you.

The girl he’s been in love with for nearly a year now, if not more, has feelings for him. Reciprocated feelings.

Is this real? Is this a fucking dream from which he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling shittier than ever?

But Seokjin said she was jealous. Jealous.

“She- She was? Seokjin, just…” he stops himself to take a calming breath, refusing to believe this just yet, “Please, don’t joke about this, I’m not gonna laugh,” he warns his friend. He can’t bear to have his heart messed with any more than it already has been.

“Does it sound like I’m joking? Believe me, I wouldn’t, we’re all too invested in your shit, it’s not healthy.”

Jimin can’t believe this. He wants to, desperately, but what if it’s not real? What then?

“I…” he swallows his nerves, “She really has feelings for me?” he asks, not unlike a hopeful child. God, his heart is about to burst.

“Yeah, buddy, I know it’s hard to believe when I exist!” Seokjin tries to lighten up the mood with a joke.

Jimin doesn’t laugh.

“...Too soon? Sorry, anyway, I thought you should also know Y/N really feels awful for everything and if there’s one thing that can confirm that, is the fact she apologized to Dinah,” Seokjin concludes carefully.

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond.

“But if you don’t believe me… Ask Y/N herself.”

But he knows what to do.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’re washing the dishes, alone at home for another hour at the very least as Jimin’s classes end in one hour.

Should you go to Ana’s? Ugh, but Hoseok is there.

Maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room for the scarce time Jimin will be here before he’s off to Dinah’s.

Which reminds you of earlier today.

In Dinah’s defence, she handled your apology quite gracefully, in contrast with you. You were a babbling mess, trying to put your thoughts into place and at first, she was suspicious of you, but once your visit made sense, she seemed to understand. Something even you couldn’t at times.

She accepted your apology with a calm smile, confusing you even more as she said she appreciated your effort to put all of this behind you.

You were glad she seemed to not hold it against you although, honestly… you don’t think you deserve it.

You have no idea if she’s planning on telling Jimin or not and quite frankly you’re terrified of what he’ll say if he finds out.

Once you’re done with the dishes and close the tap, you hear the front door open and close, assuming it’s Hoseok back from Ana’s.

“Hobi, is that you?” you ask before turning around, only to almost choke on your own breath when you see Jimin instead.

He’s standing just in front of the door, not going forwards or backwards, as his eyes stare at you. Serious, careful but calm. No anger residing in them. Just awkwardness as he seems to not know what to do with himself, as he simply rests in place and somehow a tiny drop of hope begins to bloom.

“I… Don’t you have classes?” is the first thing you manage to get out of your mouth and he takes a breath.

“I had to get out early…” he responds and you can’t help but focus on the “had to”. Did Dinah talk to him after all?

“...Why?” is your careful question, when in reality your mind is in a state of disarray. Is this a good sign? A bad one? Is he here to restore your friendship to what it used to be or finally cut ties with you and move out?

Your mind is gonna short-circuit.

“I…” he begins, eyes falling to the floor. Then he takes another breath. “I had to talk to you,” he says.

Oh god. This is it. You’re done.

Your throat closes up as you blink quickly trying to stop your eyes from welling up. Damnit, you already cried so much about this, you shouldn’t have any more tears left!

He takes a tentative step forward, eyes finding yours once again. But they look… soft, tender. Apologetic.

“I… I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he breathes out and your eyes widen, having to do a double-take to make sure you heard right. “I was too harsh on you, basically taking out my nerves on you and even though what you did was awful, I shouldn’t have taken such drastic measures. I took it too far by saying we shouldn’t be friends and I’d like to take it back if you want to…” he concludes, observing you cautiously.

You’re left staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Is he serious? Did he just apologize to you like he was the one at fault?

“Jimin, oh my god, you shouldn’t have to apologize, I should!” you rush to say, instinctively grabbing his hands to soothe him, completely missing the taken aback turned loving look in his eyes.

“I acted way out of line and truth be told I think I needed that as a wake-up call. You were right, what kind of friend am I if I don’t try to get along with the girl you’re dating?” you continue, too self-conscious to be able to look Jimin in the eye, instead staring at your joined hands with a new kind joy.

You got your best friend back. And if keeping him means you have to bury your feelings for him, then you’ll do it. For real this time. Whatever it takes to not lose him again.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Used to date,” he corrects you.

This time though you can’t help it when your eyes snap back at him. “What? What do you mean?”

Where you expected to be a sorrowful expression, there is none. Instead, Jimin is looking at you with a soft smile, a serene one, one that matches the peace in his eyes. “We broke up,” he says and you can’t find the proper words to react to this.

“Oh… H-how so?” you say instead, unwillingly holding your breath.

Jimin’s eyes rest on your face for a moment, that damned smile still gracing his lips, before his eyes fall to your hands. “I guess you helped me realise some things with what you did,” is his cryptic response.

But before you get to question his answer his eyes turn stern, with a note of mischief hiding in their corners. “That does not mean what you did was okay, though,” he says, pointing his finger at you like a teacher disciplining a child and you chuckle at his attempt of lightening up the mood.

“Believe me, I know. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself…” you respond, rubbing a hand awkwardly at the base of your neck, still awfully aware of your other hand still connected to Jimin’s.

“Well…” he says quietly, his eyes on your joined hands, “Good thing I did then…” he mutters, his thumb running over the back of your palm soothingly and once your eyes meet his, you know you’ll be okay.

.

.

After that talk with Jimin, -that ended with the both of you watching Space Jam and cuddling to sleep-, everything is once again back to normal. The past week has been amazing compared to the one before it. You find yourself smiling all the time as your friendship with Jimin is back to its prime, laughter and joy returning to your shared apartment.

Your group returns back to its routine, hanging out together in front of the TV, roasting Hoseok for his abundant sexual energy, you know, the usual.

And yet you feel like something’s changed. More particularly, with Jimin.

You catch his eyes on you more than once, more than what could be considered normal but ever since you made up the two of you haven’t been left alone once. The guys are always around and, really, it’s not like you don’t want them to be but there’s always something hanging from Jimin’s mouth, something he wants to say but never does due to their presence. It’s slightly unnerving, reminding you of that night outside your bedrooms when he wanted to say something but didn't.

You can’t tell if it’s good or bad. All you know is suddenly your knees shake when he looks at you for too long and you have goosebumps whenever his skin touches yours.

So that’s why tonight you chose to sit on the lone armchair as he sits next to Hoseok on the big couch and Ana is placed next to Seokjin on the small one.

Somehow the conversation managed to go on that New Year’s party and Seokjin ended up spilling about your kiss.

“You said “we take this to the grave”!” you respond with a low voice, trying to mimic him unsuccessfully as Ana and Hoseok stare at you with eyes wide as saucers. Jimin, for some reason, looks unresponsive to the news yet he laughs at your bad impression of Seokjin.

Seokjin at least has the decency to look guilty as Ana’s scandalized eyes turn to you. “You kissed?!”

You raise your hands in defence, for some reason avoiding to look over at Jimin. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Well… I kinda did but not with the motive you’d assume,” you rush to explain, though Ana is less than satisfied.

“Oh then with what motive? Please amuse me, hoe,” she responds, crossing her hands on her chest and you huff out in annoyance.

Seokjin answers her. “Well, obviously, she wanted a piece of all that. I’m pretty irresistible to all humankind,” he jokes lightly and you suppress a snort.

“Yeah, no, this ain’t it, chief,” you rush to say, suddenly nervous, not wanting anyone to think you’re still into Seokjin.

Actually, replace “anyone” with just “Jimin”.

Seokjin gasps in offence. “What in the world do you even mean?! You’re lucky I kissed you and not just because you got rid of that dude! I’m a pretty good kisser, no scratch that, I’m an excellent kisser, a connoisseur of kissing if you will!”

“I think I won’t be able to kiss anyone after that…” Hoseok responds which makes Seokjin gasp once more before he looks over at you.

“Y/N, tell them the truth. How my kissing is so utterly magnificent, it could end world hunger!” he says before actually hearing what he just said then deciding against it, “Nope, can’t do that, sorry, that’s on me.”

You chuckle at his antics, although a bit reluctant to actually reveal the truth.

“Actually…” you start.

Another gasp resonates. “Don’t “actually” me! Just tell them!”

You turn to the other guys with a roll of your eyes.

“Look, it’s not like you were a bad kisser per se. It’s just that it was a bit… lackluster?” you finish, almost afraid to see Seokjin’s reaction to the reveal.

Jimin suppresses a chuckle, Hoseok oohs from the side and Ana’s eyes widen in surprise.

Seokjin looks at you with disbelief.

“Lackluster?”

You rush to make amends. “I mean it’s okay given I took you by surprise, but due to that crush I used to have on you, I had this notion of a kiss full of passion. And that one just… didn’t have it.” 

Seokjin pouts angrily at you before crossing his arms on his chest as Ana pats his shoulder soothingly. “I can’t believe you just said my kiss didn’t have any passion.”

You shrug. “Well, it didn’t,” you say as a matter of a fact before Ana jumps into the conversation.

“It’s probably a good thing your kiss didn’t have any passion, it just means your friends. No chemistry there so don’t beat yourself up too much, champ,” she says with an affectionate pinch on Seokjin’s cheek, who ponders on her input.

“Yeah, Ana is right!” you rush to agree. “It’s because we’re just friends! When you find someone you really like, believe me, it’ll be nothing like that,” you go off track a bit as certain memories reappear. “It’ll be full of passion and yearning and not getting enough of each other, you’re not sure if you can go on without kissing them!”

And somehow by the end of that, your eyes fall on Jimin’s and stay there.

Because he stares back.

“Okay, I think we heard enough about Seokjin’s kissing techniques,” Ana comments, breaking the spell and your eyes fall to your lap, fire residing in your cheeks.

“I just have one last comment on what I think Seokjin could’ve used but didn’t cause he’s a wuss,” Hoseok jumps in.

“Tongue.”

A round of gagging noises is heard around the apartment.

.

.

The hours pass by smoothly and soon everyone’s getting sleepy. Seokjin leaves early, having to go to the restaurant first thing in the morning, leaving the rest of you to clean up.

Once again Jimin picks up the trash with Ana as Hoseok helps you do the dishes. The apartment falls into a comfortable silence with the occasional chatter between the four of you while you clean up. Hoseok is to sleepover at Ana’s so when you’re all done the couple bids you goodbye, heading to Ana’s apartment.

Leaving you and Jimin totally alone.

Which is something that shouldn’t scare you but for some reason your nerves are going through the roof.

“Are you done with the kitchen?” Jimin asks from the living room, where he’s rearranging the pillows on the couch.

“Yeap! Just finished!” you call back, your voice a bit higher than usual and you cringe internally before clearing your throat.

“Good, I’m going to bed then,” he responds as you walk out of the kitchen.

“I’ll walk with you,” you respond with a smile, following him into the corridor.

You walk in comfortable silence, but still, you find yourself getting nervous as you walk side by side. It doesn’t make any sense.

Once you reach your bedrooms, both of you turn around to face each other, seemingly unwilling to depart just yet. Jimin looks at you with a soft smile as you grab at the opportunity to talk to him.

“Jimin, I just… I’m really happy we got past that and again I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” you say in what seems like the hundredth apology this week.

Jimin’s smile grows fonder as he shakes his head gently. “I told you, you should stop apologizing, I’m no longer mad at you,” is his quiet reply as he tilts his head, his eyes staring at you in a way it makes your heart race.

“I know I just… That week we spent not talking to each other was the worst week of my life and I…” you pause searching for the right words, but no words could ever describe the magnificence of what you’re feeling right now, the desperation of wanting to have him in your life. So you simply stare at him, out of breath, hoping he gets it.

His smile is one of the best things you’ve ever seen and you know he does.

You smile back. “Anyway, I’ve gotten too sentimental…” you chuckle, clearing your voice to sound more collected.

Jimin giggles softly. “Happens to the best of us…” he responds gently and you have to remind yourself to not stare. Even if he does and it makes you feel out of breath.

You nod with a smile. “Well…” you respond nervously, yearning for the moment you’re alone in your room, free of all this tension. “Goodnight,” you say simply, turning around to get to your door.

But a hand wraps itself around your wrist, turning you around suddenly. Your hands naturally fall to Jimin’s chest as his palms wrap around your waist and hair as his lips fall fervently on yours.

Your mind goes into overdrive and you can only kiss him back.

His plump lips wrap around your own softly but with an intense sense of urgency, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your hands are quick into grabbing his shirt to pull him unbelievably closer. You respond with just as much hunger, letting your mouth move fervently against his own, pushing more and more against him, aiding his hand that’s tangled in your hair, gripping the locks as if he can’t get enough. Then both of his palms are on the small of your back, holding you close as if fearing you’ll leave. But you never do and that makes him press more against you until your back hits the wall next to your door.

The impact makes Jimin lean back just enough to stop the kiss, but his eyes still remain glued to the image of your swollen lips, as you almost lean after his own.

Your heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise quiet corridor, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his open shirt as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“Did you mean something like that?” comes out his gruff, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

His question brings you back to the earlier conversation about a perfect kiss and you can’t control your breathing any more than your beating heart.

You nod quickly, eyes still on his lips. “Yes,” is your breathless answer.

Jimin’s still breathing heavily as his eyes land once again on your lips.

“Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

And, fuck, you can’t get enough.

Your palms land on his neck as you stand on your toes to reach him better and his hands wrap around your waist to keep you in place.

Fuck, you’re kissing him. You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back. As if he’s a man starved of your kiss and he needs anything you can give him.

But then he stops again and you almost groan out loud.

“You need to stop doing that…” you exhale with an affected chuckle and he chuckles as well.

“I just… I need to talk to you before anything else happens….” he whispers and even though you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear in your chest.

“I…” he says, eyes dazedly looking at your face before he takes an encouraging breath.

“I want you to know that this isn’t like last time. It’s more, it means more, I-” he stops once more, voice trembling as he refuses to look anywhere else but you.

His words give you hope but for the first time in weeks, you welcome that hope. You welcome that glorious feeling to settle deep in your chest because you recognize that warm glint deep in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” he reveals and you swear your heart will burst. There’s moisture in your eyes but you will it to go away.

“You are…?” you ask with a small voice and Jimin smiles at you, all happiness and comfort. There’s a fuzzy feeling in the middle of your chest and at this moment nothing makes any more sense than you two.

“Yes. And I spent the past year trying to run from it…” he admits carefully as he slightly crouches down to meet your eyes.

“I’m not running anymore…” he concludes, a spark in his eyes and you’ve never seen him more sure for anything in his life.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions in you. Relief, hope, undeniable joy. It makes your throat close and for a few seconds, you can’t answer him. You only stare back and hope he understands like so many times before.

“I-” you manage to choke out with a weak voice but he’s quick to shush you, before kissing the inside of your palm.

“I know…” he responds softly, still holding onto your palm as his eyes find yours. You can’t look away, couldn’t if you wanted to.

And then you can’t stop smiling, and he’s smiling back and before you know it you’re kissing again.

Happiness rolls like a current between, from all the places your bodies touch, you can’t contain it so you keep on kissing fervidly, hands touching whenever they can, mouths moving in tandem like it’s natural. Like it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“God, I have so much I want to tell you…” he whispers against your lips before he’s diving back in, tongue reaching out to meet yours.

“Me too…” you reply after a few seconds, pushing him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair. “But not now…” you whisper sternly, pushing your chest against him, needing to feel more of him.

He curses under his breath, the sound sinful, licking his lips before he’s kissing you again and his hands fall lower down your back to rest over the swell of your ass.

You moan in appreciation when his hands grab at the tender flesh, making you arch out so he has better leverage. There’s a throbbing between your legs and you resist grinding on him just yet, to drag it out as long as you can.

Jimin’s lips move down the column of your throat as his body cages you against the wall, hands keeping your hips still as he wedges one leg between yours, so his thigh can press upright against your mound.

You moan again when he leaves a particularly deep hickey on your skin and your hips instinctively roll against his thigh, your hands holding on to his back afraid you might fall.

He chuckles darkly against your skin. “Still into thighs I see…” he mumbles before biting softly at your earlobe, a shiver running down your spine.

You bite your lip before, “Correction, still into your thighs…” you admit as you roll your hips slowly on top of his thigh, starting to feel that delicious warmth building up in your stomach, making you feel dizzy.

Jimin almost bucks into you with a low moan, as his hands are certain to leave marks on your hips as he struggles to remain sane.

“Fuck… Although I’m really tempted to just fuck you here, we should probably move…” he murmurs between kisses to your collarbone and you have half a sane mind to agree. The other half is already picturing him doing it either way.

But before you get to move, his arms are quicker, lunging under your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist with a surprised yelp. His palms are resting right on top of your ass, subconsciously pushing you closer, making your insides burn in anticipation.

There’s a smirk on his lips as he licks them, eyes roaming your face to make sure you don’t have second doubts. Although your eyes are glued to the movement of his wet tongue.

When he realises this, he’s quick to move towards his room as you choose now as the perfect moment to lick and suck bruises on his neck, not able to deny yourself any longer.

“Shit… Y/N, if you keep this up I’m gonna drop you…” he mumbles with a stern but clearly-affected voice and you smile in victory before softly biting at his skin, savouring his taste on your tongue.

He kicks his door open before he carefully lays you on his bed, lips immediately after your own as you reach for his neck to desperately press more of him against you.

Your palms move down his chest, grabbing the edges of his flannel to push it off his shoulders, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes…?” you ask breathlessly, immediately reconnecting your lips like a woman starved and Jimin chuckles, grabbing the hem of your T-shirt instead and pushing it upwards. You sigh in relief as soon as your heated skin is free, yearning to feel more of his skin against yours.

“Just trying to keep myself warm,” he comments rushedly as he discards the piece of clothing somewhere behind him and his eyes fall to your covered breasts. He curses, lowering his face to kiss down your collarbones until his lips reach the bare top of your tits. His mouth leaves a wet trail behind that’s making you gasp as your thighs rub together to gain some relief.

Jimin notices and chuckles darkly before biting your bottom lip. “You want any help there?” he teases and you groan out loud with a pout.

“Yes, but please take your clothes off a little bit faster. It’s making my dick soft,” you whine, bucking your hips towards him.

He pins them down between his own legs, forcing them to stay still. His fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings as your breaths turn heavier while only looking at his eyes.

“Aw, so I won’t have my ass rawed by your dick? Such a shame baby…” he teases once more with a sinful smirk and the last word has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck, say that again…” you murmur, arching your chest upwards as you feel moisture gather between your legs, just by the single mention of a nickname.

Jimin laughs out loud as he moves to get your leggings off and you’re quick to aid him. “Is this really what turns you on?” he comments playfully as he leans in, lips kissing the underside of your jaw.

“No, I meant…” you stop, suddenly self-conscious, “... the other part…” you mumble quietly, turning your face to the side, knowing a deep red has taken over your cheeks. It’s not simply about the nickname or the tenderness in his voice as he said it. It’s about what it represents, what you already heard from his lips but you simply can’t have enough of. It makes everything real.

Jimin regards you for a second before, “What? Baby?” he asks, rather innocently and yet you still can’t look at him, too embarrassed as you nod.

Jimin’s eyes turn softer as he bites his lip to contain his smile. Fuck, he’s so in love.

He moves to press a tender kiss to your jaw. “Baby,” he repeats slowly, before resting his lips on your collarbones and you sigh in content. “Baby…” he says again, leaving a kiss in the valley between your breasts, making your breath hitch. “Baby…” he moves lower, dragging his plump lips down your torso as your breaths quicken, the sound of the nickname having your heart making somersaults.

“Baby…” he whispers lowly one last time, the tone completely different, darker, more promising. His eyes rest on you as his face now lays above your panties. Then his hands are hooking behind the waistband, dragging the material down your legs and he bites his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad…” he says almost to himself and before you get to react, he hooks your legs on top of his shoulders and his tongue lands with kittenish licks on your clit.

An involuntary groan escapes you, bucking your hips into his mouth for more. And yet he maintains his pace, sending waves of pleasure up your body but never enough to get you where you want to. You can’t help the movement of your hips as you crave for more friction, his movements delicious but never enough. Jimin pins your hips down, tsking you before he presses a kiss at the junction between your thigh and cunt.

“You’ll get what you want, baby, all in due time…” he says sternly, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth returns to your clit, and you bite your lip to drown your moan.

Though now, he leaves aside the kittenish lick to wrap his mouth around the swollen nub and suck it between his lips.

A loud moan breaks free from your lips, heavy pants resonating as his plush lips envelop your clit, finally giving you more, moving expertly against your folds and your hands find purchase on Jimin’s locks to press him more against you.

He lets you do as you please while one of his hands travels up your torso, pushing your bra’s cups down to toy with one of your nipples.

The added pleasure has you cry his name in ecstasy, losing all control of your hips as they move against Jimin’s face, as if they have a mind of their own, chasing after your high like a madwoman.

And as one hand tugs at your erect nipples, the other finds this chance to move down your body and trace around your entrance, making your pussy clench in anticipation. Before finally pushing two digits inside your velvety walls.

“Jimin!” you almost sob, your hips furiously chasing after your high as you feel the warmth building up more and more inside your stomach. 

His fingers keep thrusting inside you, slowly at first to let you get used to the intrusion, before he picks up the pace, moving them quickly, roughly inside you. Knuckles deep as his fingertips find that little soft spot inside your walls that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

And when you open your eyes and see Jimin staring you back with darkness and lust in his own from between your legs, the band snaps.

You come with a loud moan, riding your orgasm against Jimin’s tongue, as the pleasure seems too much, too intense. But then the feeling starts to fade away and Jimin lets you relax as he leaves butterfly kisses against your thighs.

You try to catch your breath as Jimin’s kisses move upwards, up your stomach, to your breasts until he’s kissing you again. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, never having quite enough of him.

“This is not fair, you know…” you chastise him playfully, kissing his underjaw when a quiet moan rolls from his tongue.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, trying to keep up with the conversation but judging by the way his hip rut against you, you know he’s struggling.

“The fact I’m completely naked while you still have your clothes on…” you observe with a cock of your eyebrow and a smirk grazes his lips as his finger tugs at the elastic of your bra and lets it snap against your skin.

“Ah but you’re not completely naked…” he teases against your lips as his fingers move down your body in a sensual caress.

But being you, you take that as a challenge. So you push him slightly away just so you can move your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra with one movement.

Jimin’s eyes go wide as you flick the undergarment across the room, swallowing heavily before his eyes return to your bare chest.

“Now I am…” is your witty retort as you subtly arch your back just so he can have a better view. He stands there staring at you for a few seconds before he curses and moves quickly to get rid of his clothes.

You giggle at his impatience when he ends up stuck in his T-shirt, sporting an adorable pout. “Easy, baby, I’m not going anywhere…” you joke, sitting up to help him take off his t-shirt with a soft smile, one he reciprocates as he moves to unbuckle his pants.

“Well, it wasn’t me getting too impatient to- Wait…” he stops mid-sentence after taking his pants off. A spark of realization has entered his eyes before he turns to you to meet you with a teasing smile.

“Did you just call me baby?”

Your eyes widen in shock as a blush creeps into your cheeks and with a scoff you lightly shove him for daring to make fun of you.

“Y-you said it first, genius!” you try to justify yourself with a frown, but Jimin’s smirk only grows as he pushes aside his pants and crawls towards you.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that spent more than half her life refusing to call her partners that because it’s cheesy…” he comments playfully as he traps you beneath his body once more.

“Even if the rule never applied to her…” he smiles teasingly at you, brushing his lips softly against your pout, reminding you that even if you never called your partners “baby”, you never stopped them from calling you that.

You purse your lips together as you look at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Well…” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “...you’re different…” you mumble quietly, not really ready to look at him even if you know he feels the same.

That has him halting, and as he sees you too uncomfortable to go on, he doesn’t say anything else. He presses a soft kiss to your knee instead, wishing to convey everything he feels as well through that small kiss.

The movement of his lips on your skin is so tender that has your heart flutter and, while he looks back at you, his smile puts your embarrassment to rest. Because he’s here for you because he feels the same.

“I know it comes a little late but… Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, eyes stuck on your face, tracing your features as if he hasn’t really seen you before, not until now.

The question has your heartbeat quicken even though it’s completely unnecessary. Though your lips stretch out in a smile as you nod.

Jimin leans closer, eyes on your lips as if he’s under some spell. You suppose it’s the same you’re under.

You let his lips envelop yours gently, hands tangling in his hair as you both find yourselves moving back until you’re lying down with Jimin on top of you.

Your hands are greedy to explore his body, even though you’ve done so before. Though that time you’re main motive was to get off, so now gives you the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with his body, to map out every little detail to memory, until he’s the only thing you see.

His lips move lower to kiss and bite at the column of your throat, eliciting the sweetest moan from your lips that sound like music to Jimin’s ears.

Your breaths get quicker, hands moving recklessly to get rid of the remaining piece of fabric that separates you. Jimin rushes to help you, throwing away his boxers, now standing in his complete naked glory.

There’s nothing else to say, not really when a single look can convey everything you feel without unnecessary words. And the way Jimin looks at you right now makes you feel like you’re in heaven. Like you’re cared for, safe and content right here in his arms.

His hand brushes a lock behind your ear and the motion is so tender, loving, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” he whispers softly, eyes gentle, ready to back off if you say so, reminding you of yet another reason you’re so helplessly in love with him.

You simply nod, too afraid to talk but your smile is all it takes for Jimin to go forward.

He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes glued at that spot between your legs with anticipation. He moves forward, guiding his tip through your folds, going slowly in case it’s painful but the look of pure bliss on your face and the way your walls welcome his cock has him losing control and going the rest of the way in with a deep thrust.

Your nails claw into the skin of his back with a loud cry while Jimin breathes deeply against the skin of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Fuck, I-...” he exhales, lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a grip. “... You okay?” he says breathless, eyes searching yours for anything that’s not okay.

A breathless chuckle escapes you as you press your lips on his jawline. “More than okay. But please move.”

“Oh, thank god….” he mumbles before pulling out and thrusting in again. His movements are slow, yet the perfect pace to help you build up slowly but surely towards a second high.

Jimin rolls his hips with the expertise only a dancer could possess, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each roll, hitting that spot again and you can’t help but close your eyes to savour this feeling.

Shallow breaths leave you as his pubic bone brushes against your clit with each motion, driving you crazy.

“Ugh, you feel… mm’ so good…” he mumbles between thrusts, letting his lips land on your breasts, to suck lovebites on your skin.

“Jimin, fuck…!” you cry out, high-pitched moans escaping you as your hands go to his ass, coaxing him to drive his cock even deeper.

He growls from above your chest before you feel his palm cupping your cheek. “Open your eyes for me, love…” he mumbles quietly and you have no choice but to comply.

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Jimin’s piercing ones, staring at you intensely, burning with unspoken feelings that are too easy to recognize. After all, you feel them too.

You move to the side to kiss the inside of his palm before you smile at him.

He smiles back fondly at you before his hands move to lace his fingers with yours at each side.

“Keep your eyes on me, love…” he whispers before moving again.

This time around, his pace is slightly quicker, his cock hitting your sweet spot with renewed vigour and yet you can only concentrate on his eyes. His eyes that stare at you with such fondness and love it makes your eyes water.

You see the frown on his face before he stops moving in concern, yet you push your heels on his ass to keep him going.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay, keep going…” you say, almost choking with the emotions overwhelming you. “It’s just that… I can’t believe I’m so lucky…” you admit softly, an unbelievable chuckle escaping you as you stare at him with what you hope he sees as undeniable adoration.

He smiles at you again, -you think you’ll never get tired of that smile-, before he leans in to kiss away the stray tear that flowed free from your eyes.

He picks up the pace once more, resting his forehead on top of yours, as shallow moans roll off your tongue. Your high keeps approaching, you can feel it and still you’re only focused on his eyes. Soft grunts escape him as he drives his hips into you, getting closer to his high as well, his hands grasping yours as if they’re a lifeboat.

He brushes his lips gently against yours before “I love you…” he mutters against you and you think your heart is gonna burst.

You press another kiss on his lips before, “I love you too.”

And then you don’t say anything else as your high approaches and after a few more thrusts you both come entangled in one another, each other’s names on your lips.

You lay like this for a few moments, with Jimin’s body on top of yours as both of you struggle to catch your breaths. Then your eyes find each other again and everything seems so clear, so right.

You can’t stop smiling at each other like lovesick fools as you fall asleep next to each other, at last content.

.

.

When Jimin wakes up the next morning he thinks it was all a dream.

But as his eyes rest on your peaceful sleeping form he knows he could never dream something as perfect as this.

He can’t help the lovesick smile taking over his lips as he looks at you through sleep-ridden eyes. He shuffles closer, resting his face on his hands to get a better look while you sleep soundly next to him. He feels like he can never get enough of you. Not now, not ever.

Suddenly your body begins moving though your eyes remain closed and Jimin figures you’re still asleep.

“Stop being creepy…” you mumble with a sleepy smile and Jimin grins too, realising he was wrong.

“I’m not being creepy…” he argues softly, still smiling. You pop open one eye to look at him unimpressed before you yawn and open both your eyelids.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause it’s super romantic staring at me while I’m asleep, where can I find another man like that…” you tease him with a drowsy smile as your eyes find his.

He groans dramatically though his smile still remains. “You’re unbelievable…” he mumbles, his voice still gruff from sleep and you have to suppress a shiver before shuffling closer.

“I know but you love me…” you mumble against him before kissing his lips slowly. He lets himself get lost on the kiss before you lean back and he licks his lips to savour your taste.

“And now you can’t take it back!” you exclaim out loud before smiling mischievously at him.

Another groan breaks free from his lips. “Already regretting it…” he comments, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

You gasp as if offended by his quip. “Well, maybe then I’ll just leave so you won’t regret it anymore!” you respond, gathering his sheet on your chest as you make a move to leave his bed.

But Jimin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you back on the bed, crawling on top of you with a predatory smile.

“Now, now, let’s not result in desperate measures…” he dives in for another kiss.

You can’t help but smile again as you kiss him, hands circling around his neck as he softly bites your bottom lip.

“Careful sir. You might trigger something dangerous here…” you whisper seductively, moving one leg so your thigh can rub against his already half-hard member.

Jimin’s smirk only grows. “Mmm, maybe I like danger…” he responds before his lips envelop yours once more. His hands travel beneath the sheet, tracing your skin before they move lower and-.

A loud bang echoes through the apartment, surprising both of you before a booming voice is heard through the walls, one that belongs to none other than Hoseok himself.

“Have you fucked yet or nah?!”

Your eyes widen, face immediately growing red. Jimin looks at you with an apologetic smile and before you get to ask why Hoseok is asking that, said man bursts into the room.

There’s a sudden explosion of sounds, you screaming as you hide beneath Jimin, Jimin cursing at Hoseok as he pulls the sheet to cover you both and Hoseok whistling at the image before him.

“Woah! You finally did it buds, I’m so happy for you!” he cheers you on as he steps inside to fist bump a very angry looking Jimin and a very visibly confused you.

“Hoseok, excuse my french, but what the fuck are you doing here?” Jimin is positively seething with his friends' interruption but as you see Hoseok basically beaming at the both of you, you can’t help but giggle at the absurd situation.

“I came to see if my buddies finally worked it out! And you did, finally! Can you imagine if you hadn’t and I’d burst through the door screaming that? That’d be awkwaaaaaaard!” he comments, too cheerful to notice Jimin’s deadly stare and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“Right. That would’ve been awkward…” Jimin comments sarcastically though Hoseok still seems oblivious as he sits on top of the bed with a happy smile hanging from his lips.

You’re about to burst into giggles as you watch Jimin’s eyes growing wider in disbelief and you’re certain he’s gonna kill Hoseok any minute now.

“I’m so happy for you guys! My besties are finally dating!” he comments full of joy and Jimin is about to have smoke pouring out of his ears.

“Hobi, we’re happy too but I think it’d be better for you if you left…” you comment with a smile, pointing with your head at Jimin who’s about to lose it any second.

Hoseok’s eyes widen finally in realization. “Oh, whoops! Right, right, I’m leaving, keep going, stallion, show her how it’s done!” Hoseok throws finger guns at Jimin as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Hoseok is out of earshot and you turn to look at Jimin you can’t help but burst into giggles by how absolutely mad he looks.

Though when you start laughing, Jimin’s incredulous stare turns to you. “Why are you even laughing?!”

Even though his ominous stare is directed at you, you can’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just too funny!” you say breathlessly through your giggles.

“Too funny?!” he asks incredulously before his gaze turns dark. His eyes have your laughter dying in your throat and instead another feeling rising up at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ll show you funny…” he whispers sinfully before he lunges forward and you forget what you were laughing at for the rest of the day.

There are more important matters to tend to.

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Store Owner Amajiki Tamaki x (O) Mail-Order Bride Reader Salt Water Taffy (Part One)

Word count: 2395

Warnings: None

Title:  ABO (A) Store Owner Amajiki Tamaki x (O) Mail-Order Bride Reader Salt Water Taffy (Part One)

Summary: You go to a new town in hopes of meeting your future Alpha but things don’t go as planned. 

(Gif not mine) 

🐙-You thought it was the start of your new life. You traveled all the way from the north to the south but it was all in vain. You had been cosponsoring with an Alpha for three months now. 

🐙-He had come off as sweet and charming in the letters he had written to you. 

🐙-You were giddy every time you went to pick up the mail. Your parents didn’t know you were talking to an Alpha. They had all but forbidden you from coming into contact with one.

🐙-They thought you to be too delicate to mate with one. 

🐙-They had set up courting dates with Beta’s. They were nice in their own way but each and every one of them failed to make your heart flutter. So you came up with the idea of finding your own mate. 

🐙-You didn’t have to look far. Once you had seen the ad at the general store you heart was set. 

🐙-His name was Sora, he was a kind Alpha. He had written that he was a carpenter in the town he lived in. He had sweetened you up with kind words and tall tales. 

🐙-He wrote that his house was two stories with enough room to raise a whole lot of pups. That he was a worthy man wise enough to be on the town council and that his carpeting was flourishing. 

🐙-The only thing that was a little odd of him was that he didn’t want to send you something he had scented. You had done so after the first month of talking but he said he wasn’t comfortable enough to send something back. 

🐙-You could understand that it was still a little scandalous about scenting something for a person you haven’t even met so you didn’t dwell on it. You wished you did now. 

🐙-As soon as you walked off the train you knew something was off. A handful of people stood on the platform waiting to pick up family or other future brides. You had scented three Alpha’s as soon as you stepped off but before you could question which one was Sora they all had family or future mates walking up to them. 

🐙-You thought he just might be a little late so you waited with your suitcase in hand by the platform. After ten minutes of him not showing up and receiving odd stares from the townspeople you walked you way down the street and into the general store. 

🐙-The thought of something might have been wrong made your skin prickle. What if you bought the wrong train ticket? Did he regret asking for you? You didn’t allow yourself to think that way for long. 

🐙-He was just running late. 

🐙-Barely making it over the threshold your nose picked up a delightful scent. It reminded you of going outside after it just rained. The scent instantly comforted you a little. 

🐙-Your Omega lifting her head in interest.

🐙-You quietly told her you had an Alpha and the one standing behind the counter wasn’t him. Even though his indigo hair and oddly pointy ears made your heart race. 

🐙-You straightened your shoulders and walked up to the counter. 

🐙-You didn’t notice but the Alpha was just as enthralled by your scent. This might have been the worst job for him to have but now seeing your pretty frame walk through the door made him change his mind. 

🐙-“Hello.” You smiled at the Alpha.

🐙-“H-hello.” He quietly responded, in awe at your presence. 

🐙-“I was wondering where I could find an Alpha named, Sora Tanaka?” You asked, putting down your suitcase because your arms were starting to hurt. 

🐙- “Sora Tanaka? Are you sure you have the right name, Ma’am?” He was puzzled, why would you be asking for him. 

🐙-“Yes?” You tilted your head, not liking his tone of voice. Was there something wrong with Sora? 

🐙-“The only Sora that lives here is a Beta. I don’t mean to sound rude but he is kinda known as the town drunk.” He nervously replied, hoping he wasn’t someone important you and he hadn’t offended you.

🐙-“What?” Your face went white. 

🐙-“Um, I am sure you can find him at the saloon right now. Would you like me to give you directions?” He shuffled on his feet, his Alpha not liking the distressed scent coming from you. 

🐙-“At the saloon? At this hour?” You were breathless, the future you had in your mind was slowly crumbling. 

🐙-“H-he pretty much lives there,” Tamaki stated, his eyes worriedly looking at your trembling frame. 

🐙-“Are you sure?” You asked, still trying to delay the inevitable. 

🐙-“I’m pretty sure. How do you know him, if I may ask?” His eyes shifting around not quite ready to meet your eyes. He knew once he did he would be a goner. 

🐙-“I’m his mail-order bride.” You informed, the light in your eyes finally dying. 

🐙-Tamaki’s Alpha whimpered, they wanted this beautiful Omega. 

🐙-“At least I was.” You continued, your hands shaking. 

🐙-His Alpha instantly quieted. Tamaki finally met your eyes. He was heartbroken to find them glistening with tears. He was also panicking. How did he calm down an Omega? 

🐙-He hadn’t been around them much. Their mere presence would send him running to a corner to calm down. He wasn’t at all ready to court one. The only thing he knew about them was they liked sweets. 

🐙-“Would you like a saltwater taffy?” He asked, pointing to the display behind you. 

🐙-You sniffed before glancing back at the colorful treats behind you. 

🐙-“I only have twenty cents to my name.” Your voice broke, the weight of the situation finally hits you. 

🐙-“That’s fine. It’s on the house. Think of it as a welcome to town gift.” He sputtered, eager for your tears to dry up. 

🐙-His Alpha was pacing around. 

🐙-“Okay. Thank you.” Even if you wanted too you couldn’t turn down his kindness. 

🐙-You Omega needed something to calm her down or else she would start chirping in distress. You sent him a wobbly smile before turning around plucking a navy colored one wrapped in wax paper. With unsteady hands, you unwrapped it and lifted it to your mouth. 

🐙-Your dark thoughts were soothed by the sweet taste. 

🐙-“Mmh! Is this currant flavor?” You looked up, chewing on the sweet candy. 

🐙-“Yes. It was made by my friend Tai. He owns the local bakery in town. He made the currant flavor with me in mind.” He flushed, thinking of his cheery friend. 

🐙-“Mhm. The color does remind me of you.” You peered at the indigo-colored treats stacked in a basket. 

🐙-You wonder if you could make something like this at home. Home. What home did you have? You doubted the town drunk had a two-story house as he wrote in is his letters. Tear instantly flooded your eyes again. 

🐙-You were homeless. 

🐙-You sudden felt your knees weaken. 

🐙-“Is there somewhere I can sit down?” You sniffled, looking into the Alpha’s worried eyes. 

🐙-“Yes, of course. You can rest in my office.” He was quick to come from behind the counter and lead you to his office. 

🐙-While leading you away he grabbed a handful of taffy. 

🐙-He leads you to a plush chair behind his desk. He was quick to drop the taffy on the desk in front of you. He knew Omegas needed blankets and soft things for comfort. 

🐙-“My apartment is upstairs. I can get you a blanket if you would like?” He offered, his heart pounding at the thought of this Omega wrapped in one of his blankets. 

🐙-“Yes, please.” Your watery eyes looking up at him. He really was a godsend. Your Omega felt safe when he was around. 

🐙-He was quick to nod and make his way upstairs. He grabbed one from his hall closet. He didn’t know how you would feel about one that had his scent on it. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

🐙-He dashed back downstairs. 

🐙-“Here you go.” He handed it to you. You wrapped it around you in an instant. He thought he needed to sit down as well when he heard gentle purrs coming your way. 

🐙-“I think I am gonna go talk to Sheriff Aizawa. He will know how to handle this.” He stated, his voice was strong this time. 

🐙-He wanted to make sure this Omega would be okay. His Alpha had already taken her under his protection. Even the thought of bringing Sheriff Aizawa around put him on edge. 

🐙-He just realized his Alpha didn’t like competition. 

🐙-He pushed the taffy in your direction before giving you a timid smile and walking out of his office. Maybe if he gave her enough candy she would like him better? She seemed to enjoy the blanket so he clearly wasn’t repulsive to her. 

🐙-His Alpha was set on winning over her heart, but first, he had to find out just what that Beta was thinking. Why did he pretend to be an Alpha just so he could bring an Omega here? 

🐙-His brain was thinking up the possibilities while he made his way to the sheriff’s office. 

***

🐙-“Sora, what’s this I hear about you pretending to be an Alpha?” Sheriff Aizawa glared at the drunken Beta. 

🐙-Aizawa put his hands on his hips, ready to pull his gun if needed. Sora wasn’t known to be an aggressive drunk but luring an Omega here made his Alpha stand on guard. 

🐙-What was Sora’s angle? 

🐙-Sora was quick to belt out laughter slapping the bar in his delight. 

🐙-“That dumb Omega actually came! I can’t believe it! I was sweet-talking her for three whole months.” He chortled, tickled by the news. 

🐙-“Why did you send out a fake ad?” Aizawa growled, not pleased with the Beta’s behavior.

🐙-“It was just a joke. I didn’t think she would really come.” He laughed some more, taking a sip of his beer. “I didn’t even offer to pay for her ticket so I don’t know how she even got here.” 

🐙-The sheriff growled, angered at the way he treated this Omega. He paused when he realized he wasn’t the only one growling. Tamaki was standing to his right glaring daggers at the Beta. 

🐙-Aizawa was shocked at the Alphas booming growl. He known Tamaki all his life and never once heard him growl before. He was known to be a timid Alpha, one that wasn’t easily riled.

🐙-This Omega must have been something to get under his skin so quickly.  

🐙-“That’s it. I am taking you to jail. Maybe a little sobriety will help you with your rethink your scheming ways.” He went to cuff Sora up. 

🐙-“You tell me if you need help with that Omega. I’m gonna take this one down to the station and then go over to the post office so they can ban his ad and his letter privileges.” Aizawa tipped his black sheriff’s hat before walking out with the drunk.  

🐙-Tamaki sent Sora one last glare before walking out of the saloon and making his way back to his store. He hoped the Omega took the news well. 

***

🐙-“So it was just a prank?” You sniffed, chewing on a piece of taffy.

🐙-“Yes.” He hesitantly answered, hoping you wouldn’t start sobbing. 

🐙-“What am I gonna do? I don’t have a home or a job.” You cried, taking the handkerchief Tamaki offered. 

🐙-You dabbed your tears before blowing your nose. 

🐙-“I was thinking, would you like to work here?” He asked, nervously twiddling his thumbs. 

🐙-“Work here?” You echoed, looking up at him. 

🐙-“Yes. I am not the best person to work the front desk. In all honesty, I hate it. The only reason I have been working in the front is that my parents moved away and left me with their store. They wanted to retire closer to our relatives.” He explained, trying to blush under your curious eyes. 

🐙-“Are you sure? I wouldn’t be causing any trouble?” You asked, brightening at the idea of working with the kind Alpha. 

🐙-“Not at all. I would be happy to work behind the scenes again. I am much too shy to be working the counter. Though I am sure the townspeople wouldn’t mind walking in and seeing you instead of me.” He muttered, surprised at his own words. 

🐙-He hoped he didn’t come off as too bold. 

🐙-Clearly, it was the right thing to say because he heard a bubbly laugh escape your lips. His Alpha wanted to purr at the sound. He was pleased he lifted your mood. 

🐙-“What about where I am gonna live?” You questioned, tilting your head. 

🐙-“Well the boarding house is under construction so they aren’t having an guests anytime soon. I would invite you to stay with me in my apartment but that would be improper.” He coughed, his Alpha getting riled up at the thought of living with the sweet Omega. 

🐙-“Oh.” You slumped, deflated. 

🐙-“B-but my parents left me their house so you can stay there.” He quickly offered, kicking himself for not saying that first. 

🐙-“Your parents house? Are you sure they wouldn’t mind?” You wondered, your heart lightening at the thought of having somewhere to live. 

🐙-“It is in my name so you don’t have to worry about them. They left it for me when I have a mate and pups.” He flushed, clearly embarrassed by the topic. 

🐙-“Oh.” The thought of him with another Omega made your heart burn in envy. 

🐙-“B-but since I don’t plan on courting anyone anytime soon you are free to stay there.” He corrected his heart racing. 

🐙-“Are you sure?” You asked, still stunned by his generosity. 

🐙-“I am sure.” He stated with certainty, a small bit of his Alpha peaking through. 

🐙-“Then I look forward to working with you, Alpha.” You beamed up at him, clutching the handkerchief tighter in your hands. Your smile lit up the entire office. He could have sworn his heart stopped beating in his chest for a second. 

🐙-Lord help him. 

Man I love this so much! My little Tama is too cute in this one. What did y’all thinking about Sheriff Aizawa? Lol How do you guys like this AU so far? Thank you guys for the support! 💕💕

[walker-journal]

At Hell’s Gates (Bea, Adam, Luce- POTW)

Participants: Beatrice Vural (Spellcaster- Fiona), Lucinda Vural (Spellcaster-Cal), Adam Walker (Hunter- Tapir)

Summary: Adam brings Nell’s skin talisman to the Vural house to plan a rescue operation into a Hell Dimension with Luce and Bea as time runs out. 

Content Warning: Allusion to sibling death in the Bea resurrection plot

In a way Adam appreciated the breakneck speed of preparations, the staggering level of planning needed to even attempt this almost impossible task. Every second fussing over environment resist gear, talking to Naomi about atmospheric poisons, and running over possible dimensional scenarios with mom was one where he wasn’t thinking about Nell being tortured in hell. Eventually he just had to drug himself to sleep, as he’d be no use on the mission already exhausted. 

Adam caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the windows of the Vural home. He looked like someone about to venture into a radiative wasteland or wade through mustard gas, heavy boots, sealed armor, and a gas mask hanging from his belt. In truth, even with all this equipment he was pathetically underprepared for what was coming. 

But as always, Adam put on a face of stony resolution. He’d mastered the unphased action hero act a long time ago, even if his reflection had a numb thousand-yard stare that didn’t quite fit. 

“So what’s the magic plan?” 

The bracelet around Luce’s wrist had pinged the second Adam had crossed the boundary line, the magic a reminder of the sister she had lost. Nell had been the one who’d insisted upon the bracelets, something simple and small that they could always keep on them. She’d been so different back then. Younger. Unburdened by the weight that this town placed on its inhabitants. Luce let out a sigh and made her way to the front door, letting Adam inside. He looked like he was going to be rolling up into Chernobyl and, for all any of them knew, he would be. They didn’t know what was on the other side of those portals. And as much as Luce wanted to rush into the first rift she saw, she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave Bea here, alone, to worry and to curse her name. 

Cupping a glass of water in her hands, Luce looked over at her older sister, uncertain. “I don’t know. I’m not the one with the master plan, not this time.” Not ever really. She was just here to get things done, to bring Nell home. She might have lines now, boundaries she wouldn’t cross. But she needed to bring her sister home. “Bea, you find anything in the books on how we can get her back?”

In her early twenties Bea had been worried about her breakups and losing touch with her friends, how different that was from her sisters’ lives. How different that was from Adam’s life. He was walking into war for her baby sister and the eldest Vural could not help but see the flash of the blade cutting down when she looked at him. How many people would risk their lives for Nell? Would Adam be added to the list that had lost theirs for her? Nell, of course, was worth it, but Bea couldn’t help wishing that Adam and Nell could simply lead a life that was similar to Bea’s at their age. 

Her shadows swirled at her feet, agitated by the whirling emotions suffocating their mother, they clung to her ankles as she moved to grab a tome she had taken from Nell’s things. “We’ll be using her magic for this. Or at least we will be using an adjusted version of her magic,” Her voice flowed confidently through the space, coating every surface with honeyed hope that she did not feel. Is this how Luce and Nell felt when they lost her? Luce, now, had witnessed both of her sisters gone, taken unfairly from this world. In an impulsive move, Bea found her little sister’s hand, squeezing as she thought of the terror that must be drowning the middle Vural. “Adam, we will get her back.” Bea would destroy this world for her sister, if it meant she was safe. She would tear the fabric that kept this plane stable. She wondered if the universe knew, if it was prepared to go to war for Penelope Vural. Bea was ready. 

Adam had always been cautioned against hope. It was a purely therapeutic emotion, meant to comfort the dread of uncertainty. Esther Walker had instructed her children that facts should be assessed only for what they were rather than what we want them to be. We are not gods. This is not Hollywood. The cold universe wouldn’t fudge the numbers just because some monkeys on a random rock in the Milky Way had feelings in their skull. 

But Adam knew that not everyone grew up with their mom bluntly stating that they’d eventually lose everyone they care about in the long war. While Adam knew this grimness was Esther’s way of loving him authentically, it’d probably be cruel to give Nell’s sisters the same treatment right now. 

“Hey if we got a plan anything’s possible” he assured Beatrice with a confident lie of smile. Trying not to look at the darkness bubbling at the deathless woman’s feed, Adam turned his attention to Luce briefly. “Hey uh, resident fire scientist. Any way I could get something that might give me a chance if like...there is like an inferno or something? Just a few seconds to get the fuck out?” 

Adam shifted his weight, leather and alloyed kevlar creaking with the moment. “How do we get access Nell’s magic then?”

Bea’s hand slipped into her own and, for the first time, Luce realized just how changed her sister was. The familiar warmth, the heat that had always matched her own-- a source of both frustration and comfort that had followed their whole lives… It was gone now. Bea’s fire was gone. She didn’t have it anymore. She never would. But she was still here, still standing, still trying. And Luce was going to try too. She’d reclaimed her fire, she’d manage to fan the spark back into a blaze, and now that she had the power back? The least she could do was help Adam. To keep him safe. Fuck. She nodded slowly, mulling over how she’d manage something like that. Their mother, she’d made charms to protect Nell from their fire as children, back before they had total control. “I think we have something that we could use-- a necklace Nellie used to wear when she was little. Kept her safe from us, before we could control our fire.” She said, dreading the idea of going into Nell’s room to look for the charm. She didn’t want to step foot in there. Just because she could expect the same anguish that had overtaken her when she’d went into Bea’s room last year-- that didn’t make it any easier. This town, this fucking town. She’d thought that the nightmare had ended, that Bea was safe, that Nell was safe. But nothing changed here.

Looking at the book in Bea’s hand, Luce swallowed. “That’s one of Nells. I don’t know how to do what she does, Bea. Neither one of us do. Summoning, blood magic-- I… What are you planning?”

The charm. Bea had forgotten about the charm that used to keep Nellie safe from them. A physical reminder that she was different from her sister. Bea didn’t blame her for not keeping it on her as an adult. “Do you know where that is?” Nell could have thrown it out years ago, but the youngest Vural tended to know when to hold onto things that could be useful. Bea hoped that she had classified this as something useful enough to hold onto, even with it’s baggage. “I don’t know how to either, but Leah is going to help me research too,” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “We have some luck on our side, we’re already somewhat connected. Her magic is, obviously, connected to ours, but by bringing me back we’re even further intertwined. Your magic combined brought me back, so we can use that as a way to channel her too.” It wouldn’t be that simple though, there were more steps that she wasn’t quite too sure on yet. “We need something else, something to track her too, but I’m not completely sure how to do that yet, if you have any suggestions.”

Adam nodded and mouthed thanks to Luce as Beatrice spoke. He hated to part the sisters with something that reminded them of Nell but when you are about to try a longshot, anything that could ease the odds even slightly was needed. Beatrice's question brought a stab of pain as Adam stirred from where he’d sat, reached into a pocket, and withdrew a battered compass. 

“Nell gave this to me, it was uh a present,” Adam’s stomach clenched at the cruel irony of being given a six months dating present by a sad fire cat. It’d been the morning after he’d taken Nell out to ask their relationship to end for safety’s sake, only for that to be the mistake that caused the disaster he’d hoped to avoid. 

“It points uh,” the answer was that it pointed towards home, though Nell had cautioned that it was more metaphorical than literal. “It can take me to her,” he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Shifting uncomfortably, Luce swallowed. “It’s in her room. I can…” I don’t want to go in there, not alone. But you could never understand, Bea. You weren’t left behind the way we were. “Get it. Yeah, I’ll grab it.” She said before pushing back from the kitchen table, her hand slipping from Bea’s. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as Adam pulled out a worn looking compass. As Adam explained what it was, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how Nell had gotten her hands on something like that. And just how lucky they were that she had. Luce nodded. “Good. That should… definitely help.” She was dragging her feet, she knew that. Just bite the bullet. With a slightly forced smile, Luce patted the door frame. “I’ll get the necklace.”

The walk up the stairs and down the hall to Nells was a short one, but every step filled Luce with that same anxiety she’d felt every time she had walked past Bea’s door last summer. It was a dread, a fear. That no matter what they did, it wouldn’t be enough. And that all that would be left of her sister would be tucked away in a room. That everything inside would stop being a part of Bea, of Nell, and start being a memorial. A memory. She didn’t want to step foot inside that room. But she had to. If they wanted to find Nell, this was their best shot. Luce pushed open the door and forced herself not to pay attention to the potted plants on their shelves, their leaves wilting a little from lack of care. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the desk with books still open, the bed unmade with rumpled sheets, as though Nell had just left for the day. These were all reminders of her sister that she couldn’t handle. Instead, Luce began to look for the necklace. 

It wasn’t until this past year that Bea truly understood love. In a sense, she had looked at love the same way her mother did, based on what the other person could do for her. Bea had collected people for their skills, pocketed the ones who were the most useful and claimed she understood love through them. It wasn’t until she had been lost that she got just how powerful love was and even then, though she had seen so much work put into her resurrection, she hadn’t witnessed it all. She hadn’t seen the planning or the original mourning, she had not been involved in the panic and grief. She was unable to escape it here, where love twisted into melancholy suffocating them as aptly as summer heat did in the afternoon. 

Bea reached out to Adam, “Can I hold it? I’ll give it back to you after.” She couldn’t take the physical piece of Nell he had left, but looking at it would help her form a plan. They were all relying on her to make a plan that would bring Nell back. With Luce gone searching, she looked at him for a long moment, considering him. “Adam, I know how much a person would do for Nell.” I know sacrifice and I feel like I’m looking at one. “Please do your best to come back to us too.” Some of that honey sweet hope had dissipated now that Luce was gone, Adam didn’t need that, not in the way Luce did. “Is there anyone who can go with you as back up?” Please, don’t do this alone. 

Adam pressed the compass in Beatrice’s hand. It took Adam a bit to answer Beatrice's request. His wide distant eyes and the lost way they drifted around the Vural’s home, looking anywhere but Bea’s face, revealed the lie behind the firm set of his jaw.

It’d been a long time since Adam had felt his age. Uncertainty and finding yourself were unnecessary when you’d grown up already knowing you’d be a soldier and what war you’d be fighting in. His civilian peers had gone through heartbreaks, angst, anger, cycles of rebellion, maturation, acceptance, and reinvention. But Adam had already grown up at sixteen, when he signed away his life to fight and die in service to humanity. He’d learned how to make bombs, lethal holds, blades, marksmanship, and how to keep his head in a warzone when everyone else had been fretting about what school clique to fall in. 

But now Adam suddenly felt like a child in this tactical armor. It was as if he’d finally woken up from a dream to realize the weight was too heavy for him, but it was already way too late to learn all that stuff the other kids took for granted. Adam marveled at how narrow his own knowledge of the world was. 

Honestly? He knew way more about how to kill monsters than how to be human. 

With bittersweetness, Adam realized that made him exactly what Nell hadn't needed, and only now that she was trapped in Hell was he an ideal partner. 

“I promised Luce I’d come with her back to Earth,” was the only assurance Adam could offer Beatrice. He shook his head at the matter of back up. “I’ve got family and Hunter friends who volunteered but I can’t ask them to take this risk. Besides we need all hands on deck to deal with all the shit coming out of the Portals.”

There were times people should be selfish and this felt like a time, but Bea knew that Adam wouldn’t agree. She could spend all night trying to convince him otherwise and it wouldn't work. He was more stubborn than Nellie sometimes, which was saying something. They were the only people that could get through to each other sometimes. It reminded her a bit of how she and Felix could be with each other. 

“Is it going to be that bad?” She had no idea what these portals could mean for everyone else after all this. Honestly, she didn’t really care what happened as long as the people she loved were going to be okay. “You aren’t asking them if they offered, Adam.”

“In situations like these the portals often get worse, opening wider till they let bigger and bigger things through, stuff that our weapons won't work on,” Adam claimed, suggesting perhaps that the already deadly things coming through the dimensional breaches right now were just small fry compared to what really waited in the beyond. 

“Eventually we get what’s sometimes called a Hellmouth,” the Hunter said, numbly staring at a wall as the present mixed with another time where doomsday had loomed near. “Unless its stopped reality itself could be permanently fucked around here...well...fucked even harder I mean, in a way that can’t be covered up from the outside world any more. They’ll probably notice the tentacle godzillas after a bit.”  

Everyone had called Dad a hero. Had he felt like this, just another expendable piece of kindling thrown on the fire to keep ‘normal’ going for just a little while longer? 

“Hey uh,” Adam prevaricated with a shrug knowing Beatrice was correct. “I’ve ask people for supplies and stuff. They’ve been very generous, but actually going in is something I don’t think I have the right to ask.” Of someone that wasn’t raised to die that way, was rest that was left unsaid. 

It was always the end of the world, it seemed. No matter what everyone did to fix it, something else would come and take the mantle. Bea couldn’t help but feel as though sometimes these things were inevitable. It didn’t stop her from understanding the need to fight, if anything she got that this made people fight harder, because at least they had done something then. Still to fight for a world that didn’t know you were doing it must be exhausting. “So, it needs to close or else we’re all going to die via horrible ways.” The countdown they had already started to tick faster. “I guess it's good that we have people who are going to help then.”

Her throat tightened with unsaid words of caution and unnecessary attempts to dissuade him. Bea knew the look in his eyes, knew that no matter what she did or said, he wouldn’t turn from this course of action. She was sure she would have seen the same look in her own if someone had dared to stop her before she found Nell. “I suppose giving you supplies is enough.” It wasn’t. 

Bea went back to Nell’s book, hoping that skimming again would reveal something else. And it did. She looked between the compass in her hand and the word bone. “Adam, do you know if Nell’s been keeping anything she’s killed? Like the bones of a monster?” The words came out quickly, excited by the potential that laid between them now. 

Adam nodded. “On our first mission together, there was an Alchemist dude who was using a Dolophage to harvest intense emotions and memories from trauma patients,” the Hunter explained, swallowing down the bittersweet feeling of that recollection. It was hard to imagine that’d hadn’t even been a year ago. “Nell forged the Reversal Talisman so the Dologphage’s powers reflected back on it when it tried to tentacle my brain,” Adam explained, poking his ears to illustrate that he’d volunteered to get fed on by the demon as bait. “After we killed it she kept its bones.” 

Digging around in Nell’s room wasn’t easy. Luce had known it wasn’t going to be easy. Not when there was so much uncertainty and that sense of doubt loomed over her every move. The moment she’d heard that Nell was gone, the second she’d heard from Adam, a pit had formed in her stomach. Or maybe it reopened-- maybe it wasn’t a pit so much as it was a gaping wound, created by Bea’s death, that she’d barely been able to tend to. She hadn’t stopped to process the loss, the grief, the anger. The anger. She’d only managed to get a hold of that until it was too late. And just as she was finally coming to grips with the events of the past year, White Crest found a fucking way to open up the wounds. Shutting the dresser drawer she’d been pawing through, Luce settled down on the edge of Nell’s unmade bed. 

Luce clenched her jaw as she tried to sort through her thoughts, trying to figure out where Nell might keep the necklace. But all she could think of was how much it would hurt if she had to do this for real. If she had to pack up boxes of Nell’s things. She hadn’t had to do it with Bea, they’d known how to bring her back, known exactly what they needed to do, even if they weren’t sure if it would work. But Nell was lost. Gone. And Luce had no fucking clue how she could help. Swallowing, Luce wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before her gaze fell on a simple box on Nell’s bookshelf. Luce moved towards it, apprehensive. Her fingers lifted the lid and inside were little trinkets-- magical in nature. Some of them familiar to her, others she didn’t know where Nell had even found them. But there it was. The necklace Nisa had enchanted all those years. Luce took the necklace from the box and closed the box before hurrying out the door. She didn’t want to stay in that room, didn’t want to see that place again. Not until Nell was back. Not until they were all safe.

“Hey. Found it.” Luce said as she held up the little silver charm necklace. “We might need to re-up the magic, but it should help. And hey. Might help with the tracking situation. She wore this all the time.”

Plans were beginning to race rapidly through Bea’s mind, wheels spinning so quickly that she was almost scared they’d burn out. “With that bone we could connect with her,” She mused, before grinning at Luce. “And with the necklace we’ll also be able to tell how close Adam is to her. He’ll be able to use the compass, hopefully, in the dimension to find her quickly.” With eyes brighter than they had been since Nell was gone, Bea looked between the two younger adults,“We have a plan now, a really good one, with three ways to track her. We’re going to get her back.” And the moment she got back, she was going to get the lecture of her fucking life. 

Adam nodded. “Hey...thanks both of you, like I know you’d do this for Nell anyway, but I still appreciate you folks having my back on this.” 

Luce leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. Bea, determined, her old fire lit inside her with this new mission to get her sister back. Adam, weary in a way that no one should be at his age, but filled with the same resolve. And then there was her. She fell somewhere between the two of them-- somewhere between grim determination and optimism. They were going to bring Nell home, come hell or high water. Which, in this town? Either could happen. “Sounds like we’ve got a game plan then.” Luce said with a nod. “Of course, Adam. And… thanks for leading the charge here. We’re gonna bring her home.”

[brexrif]

The Thief and the Witcher: Part 1

Anon Request!

Geralt and reader sitting in a pub with Jaskier. Geralt and Reader are seated while Jaskier is off doing whatever (we all know he is singing though) What about Geralt fingering the reader in public and expecting—quietly DEMANDING—reader to be quiet or it will only get worse. Maybe Jaskier comes over to have a conversation and Geralt is calm as ever, and the reader is struggling to keep conversation?

(Not my pic but a good one)

Warnings: smut smutty smut smut

Did my best to follow the request while working off of an idea I already had in mind! Please comment below and let me know what you think! Follow me for other Geralt smutty goodness.

You can find The Thief and the Witcher Part 2 here!

You can find all my work here: MASTER LIST

Xxxxxxxx

You slinked through a narrow, candle lit hallway grinning, pleased with yourself and your bounty. The leather sack slung on your back shifted as you gauged the weight of your spoils, deciding that you could stand to raid one more room. You approached a thick wooden door at the end of the hall that you knew the inn-keep usually saved for less desirable occupants. You whipped out your favorite dagger collected years ago from some pathetic noble lord; you remember the half-lidded look on his face when you had seduced him into a kiss while carefully taking the dagger off his belt- men are foolish. You drove the pointed end into the heart of the padlock, wiggling it slightly in a familiar pattern before hearing the lock click and give way to the heavy door. It creaked on worn hinges as you let it swing open, hiding from the doorway before checking to see if anyone was inside.

“Housekeeping!” you sang into the room while scanning quickly- no one was there.

Within your quick and practiced surveillance, you were able to take stock of what this poor soul had to offer you. You found two swords resting against the wall beside a set of very weathered armor, made for a very large man. With the fire blazing and the battleware of this particular customer, you ventured you must act quickly. Light-footed and practiced as usual, you glided over to the swords, grabbing a sack of coin from the table nearby. You noticed a pile of underclothes strewn carelessly beside the bed. Examining the swords, you quickly recognized one superior to the other. One of the stranger’s swords was made of pure silver, a weapon that could stand up to the flesh of monsters. Your eyes widened and you had to have it. You sheathed the sword in your belt, rotated it to the back of your right hip and covered it with your long woolen cloak. Pleased with your treasure, you made your way out of the room. You pulled the hood of your black woolen cloak far over your head before coming through the doorway and pulling the door shut behind you, quickly and quietly. You lowered your head, only your small chin and plump lips, now curled into a self satisfied smile, could be seen.

Making your way back down the hallway you heard heavy footsteps coming up the staircase. You kept your head bowed low and saw two very large, seemingly wet, naked feet making their way towards you. Surprised by the bareness of these feet you let your eyes wonder upward and damn, what a mistake that was. In their travel, your eyes found their way up two gigantically muscular calves, a pair of large, manly knees and the start of tree trunk thighs, covered in a generous layer of thick, dark hair. A dingy towel wrapped around his waist betrayed him, revealing a bulge you could scarcely tear your eyes from- you nearly tripped upon this discovery. This man was very clearly well endowed. Feeling some sweat start on the back of your neck, your eyes traveled further to the tightly defined ab muscles of this Adonis, which peaked prominently on either hip and dipped steeply downward in a V shape towards his other gift. A sweet, thick trail of wet hair swirled around his tight navel and dragged downward underneath the towel along with the crevasses of his rippling muscles.

“uhmmm..miss?” his deep gravely voice coated the thick air between you.

You realized your lips had parted slightly and your mouth was quite literally agape. “Excuse me” You quickly responded in a voice at least 3 times a higher pitch than your own, the kind you had used to announce yourself as housekeeping. You made yourself small against the wall without looking up and he walked past you slowly, confused and shaking his head a bit. His big body limbered and you could feel his heavy steps even in the stone beneath your leather boots. Once he cleared you, you practically flew down the three flights of stairs to the inn’s pub.

You spotted your friend, who was supposed to be keeping watch at the foot of the staircase for you, but was clearly distracted. She was poised precariously on a bench with a large mug of ale leaning almost halfway over the wooden table towards a very vibrantly dressed bard, who was holding a lute and playing softly to her. Her breasts were heaving out of her dress, her smile loose with alcohol and his eyes were resting on her chest as he played. What a sight.

“Lucja! We need to get out of here.” You came up behind her swiftly, your black cloak flowing and catching up with you as you commanded, detectable notes of annoyance in your voice.

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. I’m just getting to know my new friend here, Jaskier. He’s an artist” she cooed, returning her eyes back to the man across the table from her.

“Come, come! Have a seat!” Jaskier invited you to sit beside Lucja. You sat hastily, swinging only one leg over the bench and facing her harshly.

“We need to go” you looked at her severely, impatiently waiting for her head to fall out from the clouds and realize you were serious.

Just then you felt a few familiar steps come up from behind you.

“Ahh, Geralt! Finally! I thought you might have drowned in that bath-you were gone for-EVER. This is Lucja and uhhh-” Jaskier looked at you questioningly, obviously having forgotten your name as every functioning brain cell he had was devoted to courting Lucja. He spoke so quickly you hardly realized he had arrived at you by the end of his thought.

“Y/N” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You suspected the man behind you was the same man you encountered more than half naked in the hallway and hopefully not the same man who owned the silver sword you had swung on your hip currently.

“Right, right. Y/N. I was just singing about you to Lucja, Geralt.”

“Mmmmmfh” Geralt grumbled behind you, the distaste palpable.

He took a seat beside you gesturing to the barmaid for two more ales. You reluctantly swung your other leg over the bench, feeling the silver rub against the wood of the shared seat.

“Y/N?” he asked, drawing his amber eyes from the table to you. You reluctantly pulled back the black woolen hood to your cloak, revealing your face and your flushing cheeks. You nodded your head apprehensively, trying not to look at him too hard. You worried once you started looking at him, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Geralt” he offered. He was clothed now, wearing a black tunic with a series of small buttons running up his chiseled body. It opened at the chest to reveal a luscious forest of dark and thick chest hair that covered his built pectorals and prominent collarbones. You realized you were staring too long and turned your focus quickly to the drink that he set in front of you.

“What’s wrong Geralt? Why so grumpy? Bath water too cold?” Jaskier teased him from across the table.

“Someone in this shit inn has stolen one of my swords” he growled into his mug.

“Oh uh- that’s not good Geralt. That’s not good at. all.” Jaskier looked worried and started getting visibly anxious. Lucja’s eyes slowly and casually made their way to meet yours and she finally understood.

“Maybe we should leave you two to your search then” Lucja offered, starting to grab your wrist.

“Oh no. I wouldn’t so easily give up the opportunity for someone else to take some of Jaskier’s blathering for an evening” Jaskier started to protest but Geralt continued “besides, I only feel bad for someone foolish enough to steal from me… Maybe they could use a head start before I get to them.”

Lucja laughed nervously and continued her attention to Jaskier, keeping a weary eye on you and Geralt.

A few moments passed that felt like years. You pretended to be interested in what Jaskier was saying and gulped down your ale. Lucja had another drink for herself and one for you waiting. Within no time, she was falling forward on the table again.

“So, should I consider myself lucky that you left my clothes behind?” Geralt broke the silence between you two whispering the best he could, which honestly just came out more like a low growl. You turned to him abruptly, fully now, and you were blown back: his gorgeous honey eyes, surprisingly light given his accusation, his chiseled jaw peppered with the most delicious stubble- not a single patchy spot in sight, his long white hair and full, bowed lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“You seemed to prefer me in a towel” Geralt chided, smiling into his mug.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” you spat at him, quietly not looking to draw attention from Lucja or Jaskier.

“Come on, as if I could forget those lips, and how they fell apart for me so easily. It’s not the first time I’ve stopped a woman in her tracks with the sight of my cock” he offered arrogantly. You were shocked and embarrassed, you didn’t know how to answer and you wished you could pull yourself away from looking at him so intently. He faced you fully now, leaving his mug on the table and closing the space between you suddenly-

“and what exactly did a little thing like you plan on doing with my silver sword, hm?” he paused realizing you wouldn’t answer so easily, “I am talking about my sword now, not my cock” he added, the heat between you two smoldering and intensifying. You felt a large hand creeping up onto your thigh, the sweat on the back of your neck returning. Without thinking, you parted your legs for him, his touch so commanding. You remembered the bulge under his towel that stole your attention.

“I was going to use it” you retorted curtly. His large fingers made their way up your thigh crawling in towards your heat. You sighed deeply, surrendering yourself to him by widening your legs even further.

“Is that so?” he was teasing you now, he smiled at you and inched closer. He lightly placed his fingers outside your opening, testing the heat beneath the fabric of your trousers. He leaned in and put his lips gently on your neck, just below your ear. He whispered quietly, “would you like to find out what happens to little whores that take things that are not their own?”

“I am not a whore” you whispered back to him.

“Just a thief then,” he bit at the fleshy skin of your earlobe and reached his hand around your hip to grab the hilt of his sword. He wiggled it a bit and pulled back from your neck to read your face. Your eyes were hard on him, your lips starting to pout, trying to deny your defeat.

“You know nothing of me, Witcher”

“I know that you’re wet for me” he returned his hand between your thighs and pushed two fingers to the crest of your folds. He rubbed slightly, expertly over the thin fabric of your pants. You sighed deeply at the feeling of his rough fingers coaxing pleasure from you so easily, even with a barrier separating the two of you.

“I also know that if I hear anything other than a sigh out of you, I’m going to have to get my sword back in a much uglier way” his lips curled into a mischievous smile and his eyes laid harsh on you. As he spoke, he rubbed his fingers in towards you harsher and quicker. You nodded knowingly, falling helplessly to the sweet delirium he was eliciting from between your legs.

“So tell me Y/N, how long have you been surviving on thieved goods and gold?” he asked, pushing a fresh mug of ale towards you with one hand and crawling his fingers to the laces of your trousers with the other. The inn was loud now. With the late hour, there were many more patrons greedily eating and drinking, singing catchy pub songs arm in arm, and yelling to one another across tables. Jaskier and Lucja carried on beside you, leaning over the table and now joining hands, their eyes drunkenly fixed on each other.

“hmmm?” he rumbled to you sliding his giant hand down the slope of your mound. You readjusted on the bench, moving back to accommodate his swift work. You surveyed the boisterous atmosphere and pulled your cloak around protectively, embarrassed and desperate for some privacy. You could stop him if you wanted, you had stopped plenty of men from touching you in the past, but this was different. You wanted him, Geralt was different. His command was teasing, but you truly thought your heart might stop without his fingers on you, his gaze and attention on you.

“I have always fended for myself, did what I had to”

“Hmmm” he sighed, moving his large and powerful finger between your wet folds. Your front teeth sunk deep into the plump of your bottom lip, trying to contain the pleasure he elicited from you. “And somehow, that involved stealing my sword” He allowed for some time to pass, slowly dragging his fingers up and down the folds of your sex, feeling you. Your hand clenched around the mug in front of you and you tried to cast your gaze downward towards the table.

“You also took a small sack of coin, did you not?” He broke the silence. You turned your gaze to him suddenly, embarrassed now that he also noticed that. Geralt looked at you amused, “I can hear your heart almost falling out of your chest” he brought one of his large fingers, slicked in your wetness to your opening and quickly pushed it into you. You jumped in your seat, adjusting to the size of him and sharply inhaling. He chuckled deeply at you, enjoying the apparent struggle it was for you to keep yourself together under his touch and his interrogation. You looked at him breathless and overwhelmed.

“That’s okay, Y/N, you go ahead and keep that coin. I have a feeling I’ll get my money’s worth from you by the end of tonight” He clenched his jaw and moved in closer to you, now pumping that finger in and out of your opening quickly. You squirmed and sighed, trying not to pant under his touch.

“Mmmmm” he leaned in under your ear again growling, kissing up your neck into the tender start of your hairline. You could feel the rough stubble of his jaw tickle your soft skin. “Remember what I said, not a sound.” He paused his thrusting rhythm and brought his finger back to your clit, which soaked in your moisture, he wiggled freely and easily in circular motions. Each arc of his swirling unraveling you further and further under his touch. He was driving you crazy, he had you completely at his whim. He continued kissing up your neck gently and working your clit under the table with his thick arm.

“Ahhh. Yes. So, Geralt.” Jaskier slid down the bench to be across from you and Geralt. “Sorry to interrupt your uh-well. I seem to have run out of coin and the lady and I need more ale yet and well” he lowered his voice, embarrassed. Geralt moved his face from your neck to look at Jaskier, his fingers continued below the table and without Jaskier’s knowledge you were coming undone right before him.

“I wish I could say I was surprised Jaskier…but I think a good bit of my coin was taken by the foolish thief as well.” He moved his fingers back down to your opening and stuck two fingers deep inside you, punctuating the word foolish. “Perhaps Y/N can oblige you for now” He looked to you casually, raising an eyebrow while you squirmed. You could hear his fingers thrusting in and out of you, lewd wet sounds coming from just below the table.

“Ummm. Yeah...mmmmhm” you were practically moaning, not doing the best job at concealing the pleasure writhing through you. Geralt’s thick fingers stopped their thrusting and started exploring slowly inside you, journeying, rubbing along your quivering walls.

“Y/N, is everything okay…?” Lucja turned to you, swaying with drink, her eyes struggling to focus on you completely.

“Yeah yeah mmhm” you responded, sweat beading on your forehead and your lips parted, trying to not obviously and openly pant. You reached for your coin purse and basically threw it at Jaskier, the aggression of your sexual frustration fueling the toss. He paused for a moment, noticing a strange tension, but took the sack and slid back down the bench. Lucja became distracted again when Jaskier went about acquiring more drinks for the two of them.

“Hmmm.” Geralt hummed, closing in to you again and seeking better leverage for his busy hand. “That was a little too close Y/N. You’re going to have to do better than that” he commanded raising his impressive and clenching jaw. He looked down at you, his amber eyes burning and harsh, determined. The pad of his middle finger found it’s way to the flat, hard surface of your g-spot. You gasped loudly, then coughed to try and maintain the façade.

“Focus for me sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum, but I need you to keep quiet for me. Do you understand?” You nodded, your eyes trying to roll in the back of your head. You looked at Geralt, he was stern and commanding. You remembered the glimpse you drank in of his almost nakedness, how every inch of his towering body was covered in rippling, hard muscle. You looked now to the dark hair swirling on his chest and remembered how it trails down pleasantly to what has to be a magnificent cock below. You put your hand on his knee, bracing yourself for the orgasm, but it started creeping up his thigh until you could feel his impressive, rock hard cock throbbing beneath his leather pants. He took his other hand to your wrist and moved it back to his knee. He shook his head at you.

You dug your fingernails in as he started rubbing your g-spot. Your teeth sunk hard into your bottom lip and you closed your eyes tight. To hide your face, you threw your forehead into the palm of your other hand, which was being propped up by your elbow on the table. You shielded your face and breathed quickly through your teeth as Geralt brought you closer and closer to ecstacy.

“Mmmhm. Good girl.” You heard him growl and lick his lips as he watched you struggle, your heels digging into the floor as his finger began rubbing hard on your g-spot. A woman down the table from you shook her head disappointedly, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything other than chasing this feeling. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, you felt his large thumb press on your clit and wiggle slightly. You came undone and let out a whimper. Geralt was relentless all through your orgasm, waves of pleasure radiating through your bones and sneaking out your mouth in pathetic little sounds.

“Mmmmmm, quiet now” he assured, bringing your lips to his. You put your hand over his, desperate for him to stop. He finally ceased, kissing you sensually, biting on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Now…lets see how you can handle a sword”

Xxxxx

Need more? You’re in luck:

PART TWO!!