#i would have more checked off this list except i have been BUSY watching HOURS of LAUREN LOPEZ CONTENT

[spacedykez]

starkid/tcb watchlist [green = watched 100%, yellow = watched partway through, red = not seen]

tgwdlm black friday nightmare time nightmare time vol2 spies are forever solve it squad returns solve it squad back in biz - 2/4 solve it squad the holiday thingy wayward guide for the untrained eye avpm avps & avpsy trail to oregon firebringer holy musical batman mamd* twisted ani starship little white lie

*i am not watching this. ever. no thank you.

[split-spectrum]

Concessions

Chapter 2

Pairing: Obi Wan/FemReader

Chapter Length: 3.4K

Warnings/Tags: edging, orgasm denial, sexting, masturbation, dubious consent

Description: Obi Wan chooses to undertake a trial that prevents him from sex for one year, and asks you to serve as his witness. As his close friend, you don't mind helping him. The rules of the trial are very clear. You make it your personal mission to find every exception.

☆☆☆

Sweeping a towel around your body, you smirk as your personal commlink chirps again. 

Hm, eager this time, you think, tucking the towel around your chest and watching the holoscreen illuminate with a text reply. 

It's not entirely a bad thing, his eagerness. Penchar is on world very infrequently, and your last meeting a year ago was rather to-the-point, which works well for both of you. His career as a merchant brings him to every corner of the galaxy, while the same goes for you as a Jedi. When your paths cross, you can usually find some no-strings enjoyment.

[if i make it into port next week, will you be around?]

You tap the side of your commlink with your finger, thinking over your schedule. You send back a non-commital response. It would be nice to make the time for it, but you can't be certain. 

[can i have a little preview, just in case?] his message reads in reply.

You press your lips together, staring down at the message, dripping wet and naked beneath your towel. His timing is impeccable. Taking only a short moment to think it over, you decide to indulge. 

You set the cam to auto, placing it across from your bed, on your nightstand. Then you peel away the towel and lie back, easing yourself into the soft blankets covering your bed. You fold an arm across your chest, pressing your breasts in close and giving a sultry smile. When you're satisfied with the handful of clicks the commlink emits, you pick it back up to look over your work.

You find the one you like - smile soft and eyes half-lidded as you brush the soft, dewy skin of your forearm arm against your nipples. You can't see much; only the tops of your breasts, but the angle is perfect and the light catches the curve of your cleavage nicely. 

You select the file, scroll down to his name in your contacts list, and press send. 

When you finish dressing a few minutes later, you check your commlink - no new messages - and blink in surprise. It's a little odd since he normally responds quite quickly, but you shrug it off and pick up your datapad, settling in for a night catching up on your work. There's an excursion Master Plo has planned for a group of Jedi knights to some of the planets along the Shaltin Tunnels and you've been tasked with charting the fuel stops. As usual, you've left it until the last minute and you finally have some spare time to get it done. You cross the room and lie back on your couch, flipping through some of your files and messages, determined to keep your concentration where it belongs. 

When an hour has passed, you raise an eyebrow and finally allow yourself to stand back up and check your commlink. He might have gotten busy, of course, but this is a bit excessive. 

No messages.

With a slightly furrowed brow, you pull up the file. 

Sent

Mentally shrugging, you set the commlink back down and you're just about to return to your work when a message chimes. 

[i guess youd rather make me wait ey?]

There must be a bad connection where he is at the moment. Hovering your finger over the file briefly, you press down on resend.

Many long minutes later, you pass the device again, eyeing it as you pace around your kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea. The screen remains blank and silent. 

By the time you have a hot drink in your hand and ease back into the cushions of your couch, you decide to let it rest. This has happened before; he'll either call when his reception is better, or he won't. If not, you'll catch one another next time he's in the quadrant. 

Stretching your legs, you take a sip of your tea and settle in for more charts and maps.

The next thing you know, the beeping of your commlink wakes you, and you take in a heavy breath through your nose. It's morning. 

Peeling yourself from the couch, you drop the datapad, still in your hand, on a side table. So much for getting caught up on your work. Standing up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you yawn as you bend over to look at the commlink. You squint at the glowing screen. It's just one word; your name. And it's from Obi Wan. 

You blink to focus your eyes, scrolling up in your messages from him. 

The soft edges of your sleep-soaked mind are sharpened into stark, bright reality all at once when you see the previous message you'd sent him.

Stars above, no - please, no, you think desperately.

Then another message comes through.

[If this is a joke, I am not laughing]

--

The minutes of every activity have seemed to crawl punishingly slowly from sunrise to sunset. You've been checking your commlink so often it's become irritating, and yet... you pick it up again. 

Still nothing. 

You'd decided not to respond back, after attempting to type several explanations through text that had been woefully inadequate. Calling him seemed impossible at the time, and eventually you'd come to the conclusion that speaking in person would be the best way forward. 

When the time finally comes and you're knocking at the door to his quarters, you realize that having all day to rehearse what you'd wanted to say has done absolutely nothing to help you. 

"Hello."

Seeing his face at last, you fail completely to come up with anything. 

You decide to try your best at an honest apology anyway. The words come out jumbled, and too quick. 

"Look, I just need to say, I am so, so sorry."

He gives the faintest of smiles, and he steps to the side, allowing you in. 

"That was... incredibly inappropriate. A stupid, clumsy mistake on my part. Alright? And I'm really sorry," you finish, not able to meet his eyes until you're done talking. 

The light in his quarters is warm and the glow of Coruscant's sun paints his sparse furniture. Obi Wan is still wearing his tunic, belt and boots. He must have just finished his duties, as you have. He waves a hand toward one of his chairs, inviting you to sit as you enter, but you give him a look that says you prefer to remain standing.

"There is no need for apologies, I assure you."

With that, your shoulders finally lose some of their tension. "Thank you. But for what it's worth, I'd still like to offer one."

His faint smile turns deeper, spreading over his face. "You needn't worry. We have all been a shot of spotchka past our better judgement from time to time."

Your words stop short of your mouth, brain reconfiguring. "It wasn't... that isn't what happened."

He doesn't miss a beat. "Right. Well, in any case, apology accepted."

Then he turns from you, casually removing his belt and lightsaber and placing them on the table nearby. Something about his easy demeanor makes you feel the need to clarify. 

"Obi Wan. It was an accident. I hope I'm making that clear."

His smile drifts into a smirk, and then he makes a show of dropping into a serious expression. "No, of course."

"You don't believe me," you say softly.

"I never said that."

His words stun you, and you need to gather yourself before trying again. "It was an accident."

He raises his brows, making it clear he thinks you're the one being obtuse. "Oh, certainly. Those commlinks can be so tricky; I can't tell you how many times I've tried to send a simple message, only to find that my clothes have come off."

Your face heats. You wouldn't have minded him being entertained by a stupid mistake. But his implication that you would try to cover it up is getting unexpectedly under your skin.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," he says, still not fully dropping the amusement from behind his eyes. "I know; I'm sorry. But, come now. We are friends, are we not? We can be honest with one another."

The nerve. You release a slow breath. "So you do think I'm lying."

"There is no need for such harsh words."

"Listen, I'm sorry you got that picture, but I really didn't send it to you on purpose."

"Ah. Surely you meant to send the schematic for my new ship. Instead, you must have tripped, taken this photo, and sent it. Twice."

That's it. You've tried to be generous. 

"No. Taking the picture wasn't an accident. And sending it wasn't, either. I just didn't mean to send it... to you."

The easy smile is gone. "Oh." 

He holds your gaze, never faltering before he turns his attention back to the table. "I see. My apologies."

He begins unclipping his lightsaber from his belt with quick, deliberate movements. 

"I really didn't mean to make things more difficult for you."

"You haven't." 

His answer is much too quick. There's a pause where you wait for him to soften the blow, but he just looks up at you, holding his belt and saying nothing. Then he crosses the room to hang it up. 

"You haven't," he reiterates. "You needn't worry about that."

If there's one thing Obi Wan does not like, it's appearing foolish. He pretends not to have an ego, and while he's proven his humility time and time again, you also know the younger, sharper, harsher man he used to be. And you see glimpses of him now and then. 

"Good," you affirm. "Because I hope we are friends, after all, and I didn't mean to... rub it in your face. You know, having someone to-" You let the statement hang. "...when you don't."

He blinks at you. "What makes you say that?"

That stings. Not the idea that he could have someone else, but the idea that he would keep it from you. Or, worse yet, that he would let his wounded pride lead you to believe he does. 

"Just because I have chosen not to partake at the moment doesn't mean-"

"You're right. I shouldn't have assumed." You cut him off, shaking your head, and start to back toward the door. "I'm just happy to hear you haven't been affected by my... lack of better judgment."

He walks after you. "Wait; there's no need for you to go. You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your eyes widen. "Oh, I'm not embarrassed. Believe me, I'm not the one who should be."

He follows you to the door, and as you exit, you promptly close it in his face.

--

Embarrassed?

Jedi should not allow petty, small feelings of annoyance to grow into the frustration you're currently feeling. And knowing that he's likely suffering from months of depriving himself a certain outlet should really allow you to give him more grace. 

But, embarrassed? 

You finish your meditation for the evening more irritated than when you began. It's almost impressive. 

Getting into bed, you scroll back in your messages to find the picture you'd sent. No, you absolutely have nothing to be embarrassed about. 

You chew your lower lip, and in spite of your attempts to think of anything besides Obi Wan, you can't help but imagine his face when he'd opened it. 

In fact... 

[Since that picture didn't seem to bother you, you probably wouldn't mind another?]

Still rubbing your bottom lip between your teeth, you hesitate before slipping off your outer robe and committing to your decision. 

You're still wearing your undergarments, and you pull down the bodice you usually wear beneath your tunic, just until your breasts are lifted and squeezed deliciously tightly. Your nipples are barely visible, starting to spill over the top of the dark fabric, and you take a few pictures in the dim light, popping your mouth open slightly for good measure. You review the pictures, then lick your lips and take another. 

There - the one with your cheeks flushed and saliva shining, almost as if your mouth is watering for something to be pressed inside. 

You press send, and you get no response. But you go to sleep with a satisfied smirk. 

-- 

"And during the latter half of the temple visiting hours, please be mindful that the docking bay area is restricted to 40 percent landing capacity due to..."

The Coruscant municipal enforcement officer drones on, entering the third hour of the mandatory annual community guidelines seminar. Your eyelids would normally be struggling to stay apart by this point in the day, if it were not for the golden-haired Jedi currently pretending to absently scratch at his short beard as he glances downward. 

You check your commlink again, making sure your settings are silenced. 

[if you got my last message, it's rather rude of you not to reply] you'd sent him shortly after he'd walked through the door.

He'd looked around until he'd spotted you. Then he'd pretended not to. 

[i can only guess you didn't get it, then. don't worry. i took a few more]

He still didn't answer, but you watched as he slowly seemed to look down into his lap more often. After a few more moments without reply, you'd carefully covered your screen with your sleeve and sent him another angle of the shot from last night - this one leaning forward more, with the soft curve between your breasts on prominent display. 

You'd been stealing glances ever since. And so had he. 

[i think you're right, by the way. don't think i have anything to be embarrassed about. do you?]

You watch as he looks down again, then looks back up as if giving his rapt attention to the presentation on imported fruit. The lights lower, and you see his screen glow as he receives another message from you. 

[if you want me to stop, just say so]

His hand swipes over the message, closing it. The screen goes dark. 

You look over your shoulder casually, shifting in your seat, and you take a very long time before sending one last message. 

This one is closer - much closer. It's an image of your nipple, peeking from between your two fingers. Your hand is cupping the bottom of your breast and your index and middle finger gently fix themselves on either side of your stiff bud, coaxing the sensitive tip to harden for him. You swallow and quickly press send, closing your screen again and casting a sideways glance to ensure only your eyes had seen. Thankfully the eyes surrounding you are half-closed in boredom. 

When you chance a look in Obi Wan's direction, you see his screen illuminating the inside of his sleeve, and no reaction as he turns it off again. He remains completely motionless, looking back up at the presenter. 

But you catch it when the muscle of his jaw clenches, hard. You also catch the way his adam's apple bobs in his throat with a swallow. And you absolutely catch the way he turns his head to look at you, then suddenly flicks his eyes forward again, unblinking, and doesn't look back for the remainder of the day. 

 

--

You're starting to soften a bit by the time you're back in your quarters that evening, finally beginning to feel that the punishment has outweighed Obi Wan's offenses, as you look back through your very one-sided conversation. Despite yourself, you smile, taking a bite of your jogan fruit snack before bed, and decide to relent. 

[just checking if i've made another error in sending... you are getting these, yes?]

You aren't really expecting an answer, just trying to lighten the mood. But you get one. 

[yes]

[i see. i'm glad i haven't embarrassed myself further. what do you say we call it even?]

You get no response. Perhaps he's more irritated than you'd realized. You smirk. The thought really shouldn't be so pleasing. 

Then your commlink chimes. [it would take a greater fool than i to refuse a fine gift, freely given]

The fruit juice drips down your chin. You scramble to wipe it, as caught off-guard as you are. Is he... asking for more?

[who says these are gifts? i considered them more as punishment]

You stand up to wash the fruit from your mouth and face, then cross the room to stare at the screen again. This was the last response you'd expected. 

He doesn't reply back. You could leave it here. You could have mercy and respect the trial; make it easier on him. But then, he always seems to want to make things harder for himself. You might as well help him. 

Leaning back and spreading out on your bed, you send another picture. Then another. Minutes pass without any response, so you send another. You get creative. 

You're talking to a wall - he doesn't answer. But you're starting to get wet, thinking about why he might not be. 

You dip your fingers into your own slick, and then a thought occurs to you. You send him an image of your glistening fingers. Then you set down the cam, closing your eyes and circling your clit, sucking in a breath through your teeth as you play with yourself, imagining searing blue eyes and the weight of his body on top of yours. 

You're close. It's now been several long minutes since your last message and still nothing from him. So you decide to send one final message. A sign-off for the evening. 

You tip the cam down between your legs and take a dimly-lit shot, touching yourself for him to see. 

It feels like you've been holding your breath, right at the edge, for hours. But it can't have been more than a minute before your commlink chimes. 

It's an image. You open the file.

Thick fingers grip like death around the base of a hard, leaking cock.

You choke, pussy twitching wildly as you stop yourself from tipping into an orgasm at the sight of it. He's dripping; a mess. You can see every vein in his hand bulging with the effort of strangling his swollen, drooling dick. 

Dialing. Now. 

The hand you aren't using to call him is still wet, but you manage to pull it from between your legs, covering yourself with your bedsheets. 

The chimes come to an end. He didn't pick up. 

You realize you're incredibly stupid for dialing again, but your brain took its leave the moment you opened that file. 

His holoimage glows bright and blue before you, and it strikes you all at once that he's actually answered. You sit up straighter, covering your chest with your bedding, and stare at him. 

He's staring right back, shoulders bare, muscles tight. You can see a hint of dampness at his temple. 

"Wh- why did you send that?" you ask, blurting the first words that come to mind. "We can't..." You try again. "What was that for?"

His eyes seem to cut through the hologram and straight into you, burning down to the pit of your stomach. "Presumably, to show you've achieved your goal."

He doesn't sound pleased. In fact, he almost sounds... frustrated. Defiant. You notice his right shoulder clenching. Your eyes are roving hungrily over every bit of his body, bathed in the dim blue glow of the hologram. You lick your lips, panting out, "My goal? What would that be?"

The muscles of his neck tense as he swallows, but he stays silent. Then, slowly, he clicks a button which expands the screen and shows where his other hand is. 

It's dark between his legs, but you can definitely see the outline of his pulsing, dripping cock. And you can see how hard the muscles of his hand are working to choke himself off. No movement. Just the shadows trailing over his clenched stomach as he breathes in and out. 

"I imagine," he grinds out, "this is what you wanted, is it not?"

You drag your gaze back up from his center, trying to force a cool, detached tone in your shaky voice. "And... what are we going to do about that?"

He looks almost furious at the question, and his answer seethes out between his teeth. 

"You tell me."

--

Taglist: @slinkygail @millercontracting @cacti5539 @wheres-mylove @holdingonforheaven

Please feel free to comment or message me to be added to the taglist :)

<< Previous Chapter // Masterlist

[ourvanishingghosts]

HELLO!!

I hope everythings well right now! Take your time on this request no pressure no pressure! ✨

May i request raihan. piers and leon seperate (leon is optional if it crosses the rules!) following reader (who's account is kind of private) on tiktok or whatever social media and they're met with like pretty pictures or videos of them?

Yeah. Sure. Everything is going good now. I kind of been busy with my 6 hour classes. I also want to thank my friend for making the edit for the Piers section. The edit is linked in that section and it is on YouTube. I didn’t do Leon because I feel like he wouldn’t use social media that much.

Pretty Pictures

Raihan

Raihan was scrolling through his Instagram when he found a picture of a masked Pokémon gym leader

So, he got curious and went to the page that was tagged and only saw pictures of the gym leader wearing their mask

Then he saw that they had their private Instagram link in their Linktree

He requested to follow the account and went back to scrolling through Instagram while he waited

He checked his notifications the next day and saw that the account had followed him and accepted his follow request

As soon as he was ready, he checked out the profile

When he saw your face he was blushing immediately

He thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen

While he was looking through the pictures he accidentally liked an older photo of you and he panicked and unliked it because he didn’t want to come off as a weirdo

That’s when he received a DM from you joking about how what happened

He felt embarrassed until you told him that you were flattered and thought it was a little funny how quick it happened

He confessed that he was just scrolling through your page and thought that you were beautiful and accidentally hit like on that older photo

You sent 🤣 and said that you had done the same thing on one of his older posts because you thought he was stunning

After a while of DMing back and forth you two exchanged phone numbers promising not to leak them and to delete the messages after adding the phone number to your contacts list just in case either of your accounts got hacked

After about a month of texting you two finally meet up since you flew to Galar for a Gym Leader conference that was happening

You were wearing your mask throughout the conference except for when you were hanging out with the other Gym Leaders from your area and Raihan

Raihan promised that he would never post any pictures of you without your mask on

It was at that moment that a beautiful friendship was born

Piers

Piers was scrolling through TikTok, but he was on the app back when it was called Musical.ly

He was going through the the hashtag called PiersEdit and saw an edit that you had made

The edit was to the song The Feels by TWICE

After watching it he click on your profile picture and started watching your videos

The newest ones were edits of the Galar Gym Leaders

Once he finished watching those he sees a video with your face in it and watches it

It a video of you sewing a plush of his Obstagoon and the caption said “If I ever get to meet Piers I might give him this if he wants it.”

He knows you probably got notifications of him liking your video and he commented “I am more than willing to have that adorable plush from such a beautiful person.”

Then the likes exploded and some people were questioning if if you and Piers were in a secret relationship

He just continues to watch your TikToks and sees you’ve made the other Galar Gym Leaders Pokemon and all the videos included your beautiful face

A month later he was meeting fans after one of his concerts and he spots a familiar plush

He walks up to you and taps you on your shoulder “Hey beautiful.”

You turn around and quickly give him the plush and ran off

He hopes to see you again since you put your phone number on the tag

[pandorasprongs]

CHAPTER TWO | you'll always know me.

'it's nice to have a friend' masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

SUMMARY: a few weeks after their run-in, jamie suddenly craves some pizza and someone to share it with.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: here is chapter two! there's a little more jamie pov in this one just to see his side of things and we watch them catch up more in this one and see what liv (reader's friend) thinks about this whole thing ;)

After Jamie dropped you off, you didn't hear from him for weeks. Things just went back to normal for you after that night, and maybe you should've been glad. That was the closest to closure with Jamie that you could stomach, but there was still a part of you that hoped that every time your phone rang, it was him.

On the brighter side, Liv had started to make plans for the wedding and her first order of business was to ask you to be the Maid of Honor, a role you happily accepted. In between grading papers and office hours, you'd look through catalogs and websites that your best friend had sent you. Both activities were exactly what you needed to take your mind off Jamie.

But for the footballer, he couldn't stop thinking about you. He wanted to believe that you really had forgiven him, in some capacity. But each time he had the urge to reach out, the fear of you backtracking on your word overcame him. 

This wasn't normal. He was Jamie fucking Tartt, for Christ's sake! He's been with tons of girls. More often than not, one text was enough for the guy and all was forgiven. But he hadn't been with anyone in months, and it was different now. It was different with you. It always had been. 

Even back when you were kids, it was your opinion of him that he valued over most people, with the exception of his mum. You were the one he went to if he needed advice about girls or comments on his football form. You were the one he went to when he wanted to screw around, setting up traps for your parents as kids or sneaking beers to your rooms as teenagers.

Hell, you were the one he went to when he fucked up and needed help to fix his mess. Maybe that's why he doesn't know what to do now, cause he can't very well ask you for advice on yourself.

So instead of powering through his fears and calling you, he settled for searching you up. Just to see what you've been doing these past few years. His mum would sometimes mention a thing or two about you that she heard from your parents when he visited her, but he rarely actually listened, something that filled him with guilt in the present.

The first thing he found was research papers and articles with you listed as an author. They were all about varying topics, but it was always in the realm of genetics. You'd always loved biology and writing from what Jamie remembered, and he was just glad to see you doing what you always wanted. He tried to scan through one of the research papers for fun, but when he didn't understand a lick of it, he decided to cut his losses and check what else he could find. 

He ended up on the page of an organization from your uni and found a video with you on stage as the thumbnail. It was almost 5 years old, around the time when...

Jamie hesitantly presses play and the clip starts with you walking up the stage. You seemed so confident and unafraid of the crowd in front of you. Maybe it was the liquid courage in your hand, but the footballer had never seen you so at ease before performing.

"Hello everyone! It's me again," You started, your energy easily transferring to the crowd who erupted in applause. "This will actually be my last song for a while because fuck finals!" There's laughter off-camera as you stabilize yourself.

"Before I start the song, I just want to give some background on why I picked it, if you’ll let me. This is dedicated to an old friend of mine. He was one of my favorite people in the world, but unfortunately, he's become an absolute fucking prick! Woo! So, what better way than to end the night with this song?" When he hears that, Jamie's heart drops and he closes the video as you sing the opening note.

He doesn't know why; this was years ago and you were obviously not as angry as back then. But the mere thought that there was a point in time where you felt enough hatred for him to go in front of a crowd and yell "Fuck you, fuck you very, very much!" only worsened his fears.

If Jamie from a year ago had seen the video, he wouldn’t have done anything. He'd scoff, call you bitter, and that would be the end of it because pretending it didn't hurt was, for him, a better option than apologizing for what he's done. But this was a new and improved Jamie, one that was trying to atone for his mistakes that Ted, Dr. Sharon, and the entire team so kindly pointed out when he came back to Richmond. Empathy, he had to have that. This was probably the best version of himself, but that didn't mean that just because all was forgiven by Richmond, everything else in his life was okay.

There was still you. Looking at how much you've done with your life, how confident you've become, and how happy you seemed to be with your new friends, he really must've been a dead weight on you. You almost even gave up the chance to study in Cardiff because of him, but thank God you snapped out of it and saw how ridiculous that was. Maybe you were better off without him, even at his best.

But Jamie was still having a hard time giving up his selfish habits.

Now, he was on a date with a French model. He had no real interest to get back into the dating scene, but he just had to get Richard off his back about setting him up. He had to keep holding himself back from pointing out that just because he was French, Richard was not fucking Cupid. It was even clearer to him when he was bored out of his mind barely 15 minutes into the date. 

She was beautiful, of course, but neither of them could say an actual word to each other the whole time. Well, aside from her snide remark after he paired red wine with a type of fish, which honestly sealed the deal for Jamie.

He stayed the whole duration of the thing just to be polite; he even paid for the whole meal himself. But seeing how both of them spent almost the whole thing on their phones, there wasn't going to be a second date.

The food wasn't even filling, so now not only did Jamie just waste one of his best suits, he was still starving. While waiting for the valet to bring his car to the front, he spotted a group of fans hovering outside of the shop and decided to go greet him. It was a regular occurrence as a footballer, so he did the usual: signed some footballs and pictures, took selfies with some fans, and doing small talk with some of the younger fans. Maybe it was because they sometimes reminded him of a younger version of himself, but he always put extra effort to make those little kid's interaction with him enjoyable, even if their parents could be pushy as hell.

Jamie never hated interacting with fans, except occasionally when it was 1 am in a crowded pub and some of them acted like they were best friends. It was an absolute ego boost because he could act as cocky as he wanted and they’d love it anyway. Especially back in Man City when they would cheer his name as he left the clubhouse. God, no wonder he became a prick so quickly. He still had fans now, but he’d learned how to act more humble with them. Just a little bit more humble.

Once his car pulled up, he felt a notification from his phone and opened it to find a message from Simon. Hi Jamie! Your mum and I hope you're doing well. Congrats on the promotion!

It wasn't odd for Jamie to get texts from his step-dad which always opened with a check-in, then usually followed by a recipe of biscuits he could try and make at home or asking on his mum's behalf if he'd be visiting soon.

Before he could open the chat to reply, another text popped up. 

Was looking through some old boxes (trying to find one of the homemade cookie cutters you made before), and found this picture! 

Attached was a photo of their kitchen from years ago, which is obvious by the multiple school football team photos hanging on the fridge. It was you and Jamie, around 16 years old, eating some homemade pizza that Simon had made. The photo captured you staring at the slice as if it was Jesus reincarnated and caught Jamie staring at you. Jamie admits, he almost thought he liked you then, but that was probably because he saw you so often and puberty's a weird fucking time.

All Jamie could reply was, That's a nice picture, just so it wouldn't seem like he wasn’t replying on purpose.

His stepdad sent another one: Real fun that I managed to capture this! Wonder how (Y/N)'s doing now. Heard she went to the final Richmond game. Did you see her?

Yeah, after the game. Jamie answered honestly, as the valet handed him his keys and he got into the car.

That's nice you got to catch up with her. You guys were inseparable, back then. Well, stay safe, Jamie!

That was the end of the conversation, but a part of Jamie wanted to believe it was a sign. He didn't really believe in all that universal power and destiny type of thing, but if it gave him an excuse to reach out, he was going to take it.

That same night, you were at your flat, supposedly resting. Sundays were the only days you never had a class scheduled, but you were behind on grading your students' drafts because you had to allot a new chunk of your time to helping Liv with your maid-of-honor duties. Now, you were sitting on the floor of your living room in the same tank top and pajama pants you woke up in, racing through your students' papers that you promised to return the next day. Say what you will about procrastination, but it has never failed you once.

As you finish writing the grade on one of the papers, you get a call from an unknown number. You're too focused on the task at hand to fully comprehend it, and so you just press accept and put it on speaker.

"Hello, who's this?" You say mindlessly, your eyes scanning through the next essay.

"Uh, it's Jamie," Your underline extends just a little bit past the line due to your surprise. When you don’t say anything in reply to that, he takes the chance to explain, "I'm in the area and I was starving. I got a pizza, but I don't think I can finish it by myself, so if you're hungry, maybe I can pass by?"

Once you got past the initial shock, you were now contemplating whether or not to take him up on his offer. You honestly thought the car ride was going to be the end of it. But you were starving too and it was getting too late to order any food without seriously inconveniencing some workers at the end of their shift, so against your better judgment, you say yes.

You move to start fixing up your place to look more put together, but the doorbell rings before you get the chance to. Oh, fuck it, he's seen worse. You walk over to the door and find Jamie already here carrying a box of pizza. His hair was neatly slicked back and while it's weird to see him properly groomed late at night, you know that he's always been particular about his hair.

"How'd you get here so fast?" You questioned.

"I may have already been waiting outside when I called." Jamie shrugs and you give him a playful look. He seems to instantly relax at your reaction and you let him inside. He goes to place the box on your kitchen counter but takes a look around what you considered to be a messy apartment.

The university set you up with a good flat with two bedrooms, much to your parents' delight. It was mostly furnished when you moved in, so it was just up to you to decorate it. You liked the look of plants in a house but were always shit at taking care of them, so succulents and LEGO flowers were the compromises. You sprinkled photos around the place from different points in your life. In one of your more forgiving moments, you even hung some childhood pictures with Jamie, but moved them to the top of your bookshelf so you wouldn't have to see them everyday.

"Stevie Nicks, nice." He pointed to one of the albums you had hanging above your TV. It was next to your copy of Folklore and Punisher. Maybe a slight outlier, but you grew up with her music thanks to Jamie. 

"Yeah," You turned back to the footballer to see him fully decked out in a dark grey suit with a blue collared shirt under that was a little oversized for him, but somehow, he made it work. You join him at the counter and lean on it, before pointing out, "A little dressed up for a late-night pizza run, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah," He looked down at his outfit before opening the box and turning to you. "Was on a date before this. A teammate of mine set it up."

You stop yourself from showing your surprise at this revelation. You don't even know why you're surprised; he was obviously going on dates all the time like most footballers did. Maybe you were just surprised that he wasn’t currently in a relationship.

"How'd it go?" You ask nonchalantly, reaching over to grab two plates from the drying rack and a slice of pizza for yourself.

Jamie doesn't even try and hide his reaction to you asking, but he answers anyway. "As well as a date where neither of you spoke a word to each other could go. So, pretty shit." When his team would ask him about it on Monday, he was going to lie and say that things were fine, but they probably weren't going on another date. But he needed to be honest with one person.

You cover your mouth as you chew to stop the laughter. "Damn, that sucks."

The two of you go to the living room area and you move around the papers to make space for your plates.

"What's all this?" After unbuttoning his coat, Jamie took it off and hung it neatly on the arm of your coach before helping you stack up the papers in a neat pile. "You're a teacher?"

"Yup, I'm a professor." You clarified and settled down on the couch to put on a sitcom on your TV. "They offered me the job when I was completing my Master’s degree, but I decided to stay on cause I liked teaching."

Jamie raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. You furrow yours and ask, "Why? You surprised?"

"Well yeah, you hated tutoring back then." He points out and all you can do is scoff.

"Correction, I hated tutoring you." Jamie almost looks offended, but you continue. "Almost every one of our tutoring sessions ended early cause you kept finding ways to distract me or convince me to take a 'break.' All my other tutees were manageable."

"And yet, you kept up with it." He gives you a triumphant look and you playfully roll your eyes.

"Yeah, because I loved Aunt Georgie and knew how bad she felt every time you failed an exam." You remind him. "It was worth putting up with your nonsense because your marks got better every time I helped you out."

Jamie laughs and you feel a pang in your chest. The last time the two of you had been in a situation like this, — hanging out and just talking on a couch, — was seven years ago. You weren't sure which of your emotions were stronger: the warmth from being able to do this with him again or the pain from knowing why you stopped. But right now, you just wanted to enjoy it.

And turns out, Jamie was thinking about something similar, too. Only he verbalized it after a quiet moment. "I missed this. I missed you."

You couldn't stop the smile from creeping up on your face, but couldn't bring yourself to say it back, so instead you simply say, "Same."

Before it gets too awkward, Jamie decides to ask, "So aside from deciding to be a nerd for life," you punch him lightly in the arm, "what else have you been doing these past few years?"

You're not really sure where to start. You couldn't ask him to start because the media made sure to tell you every detail of his life, so you just start from where you left off. 

"I guess, I started joining clubs in uni. Not ones for applications anymore, but things I liked. So I did some performing in an on-campus club which was nice." Jamie was always the first to compliment you on your voice because he was the only person you were willing to sing in front of. It did suck looking back that he couldn’t be there the first time you performed in front of the crowd, but that was his fault, wasn’t it?

"After graduation, I moved here to be a lab technician but didn't really like that, hence why I became a professor. What else? Dated a bit, here and there, but nothing ever serious." You don't know why you admitted that to him, but you continue on. "I'd go traveling with Mom and Dad during summer and with Liv, my best friend, too. Do some performing on faculty nights and... I think that's it."

Jamie nods his head, absorbing the information, and you add, "Not that remarkable, I know. At least, compared to your footballer lifestyle."

"Nah. I mean, it's been fun, but less exciting than you think." Jamie was definitely downplaying it, both of you knew that.

"Oh please, didn't you date Keeley Jones, and become teammates with Roy fucking Kent? Sixteen-year-old you would be reeling!" 

You still remember the time that he put up their posters, both of them. And truthfully, you were more unsettled by Roy's poster than Keeley's. It felt like he was staring into your soul every time you slept over. "Kinda surprised though that you guys became rivals. I thought you'd be worshipping the ground he walked on if you got to work with him."

He hesitates and for a second, you think you've said something wrong. But he explains, "Yeah, I was a prick when I got loaned to Richmond and he didn't really like that as captain, y'know? But I think we're good now. Well, better. Pretty sure he still doesn't like me, but at least we're not fighting during matches anymore."

His tone was playful, but Jamie definitely felt bad about how his relationship with his idol turned out. He really did admire Roy Kent and that was very clear to everyone around you back then. There was a time that Chelsea had a match in Manchester, but it was during class hours, so you begged your dad on his vacation day to go to the hotel where they were staying and get his Roy Kent poster signed. You've never seen him happier. So knowing that for a point in time, they hated each other's guts, the Jamie you knew would be absolutely crushed.

"Well, he's your coach now, so maybe you'll get a chance to bond with him like the younger you always dreamed about." You offer, and Jamie just chuckles.

The rest of the night was spent catching up on each other's lives until it was almost 11 and Jamie had to head off. For a moment there, you forgot you were ever mad at him. That it was time and busy schedules that kept you apart all these years. But after passing by your bookshelf and spotting an old picture of the two of you at seventeen, it gives you a reality check.

No, stop dwelling on the past. You didn't need to, anymore. Things were fine now. You didn't have to harbor any anger for Jamie anymore. You shook any thoughts about it away and got ready for bed.

—

"Fuck, why did you ever quit doing research?" Liv points out and you just chuckle at her reaction. The two of you met up after your last class of the day for early dinner and while waiting for your dishes, she asked you for some help with the dosages of the most recent drug she was working on.

"Teaching was my calling." You also had more flexible hours, a summer break, and free housing, but you didn't feel the need to point that out. Once she finalizes the notes on the formulas, she stuffs them back into her bag and starts telling you about all the new office drama.

You and Liv had gotten the same degree from Cardiff and were coincidentally in the same hall as well, so many nights of yours were spent studying on the same exams and quizzing one another into the early hours of the morning. You had become practically inseparable, and even after graduation, you applied to the same companies and were roommates for a bit.

Then she and Frankie started to get serious and since it was around the time you changed jobs, she moved in with him and you started living on your own. Even after the changes and not sharing a single bathroom anymore, the two of you still spent as much time together as possible. You probably wouldn't have made it through uni and early adult life without her.

"Also, do you remember Marta? From sales?" You groan at the reminder of your former co-worker. "She got fired! She was forging budget reports!”

"Oh fuck," you exclaim and Liv just laughs at your reaction. "It's about time, though! She made the interns' lives a living hell, especially the women. Then when you get promoted above her, she'd act like you were best friends."

Soon, your food arrives and you take a break from chatting until you're on your way back to your flat. It was the nearer one of the two and Frankie had night shift at the hospital, so you just planned on watching a movie there.

While walking, Liv brings up the wedding and you enthusiastically join in. "I found some flower arrangements and centerpieces that might work for each of your possible themes. I'll show you the magazines when we get back to my place."

"God, I love you," Liv brings you in for a side hug as you go up the stairs of your building and you happily reciprocate it, despite the awkward position. When you finally get back, you dart to your dining room table to collect the magazines.

Your phone pings and you open it to find a picture from Jamie. His background looked like a salon, also seeing as his hair was dyed and blow-dried.

Blond? Bold choice. You send in reply, before adding, Looks good though.

Walnut mist, actually. He adds and you roll your eyes at the message before pocketing your phone again.

As you go back to opening the magazine to the pages you want to show to Liv, she suddenly asks, "You thinking about bringing a date to the wedding?"

You scoff in reply. "No, why?"

"I don't know, maybe you'd want to bring whoever the owner of this jacket is." You tilt your head in confusion before turning around to see her holding up Jamie's jacket. How had he forgotten that here? And there was no way to convince her it was yours because she knew your wardrobe better than you probably did. "Better start talking now."

You stuff the magazines under your arm before going back over to here and grabbing it. "Okay look, I did have a guy over, but it's not what you think." Liv's eyes instantly light up, but you try and calm her as you blurt out, "It's Jamie's! He came over last night to share a pizza and we just talked."

"Jamie? As in Jamie Tartt? Formerly Man City, now AFC Richmond Jamie Tartt?" Liv repeats and you nod, causing her expression to contort. "I thought you hated the guy!"

"I do!" You defend yourself. "I used to, but he gave me a ride home after the Richmond final and we patched things up."

"So he apologized?"

"Not necessarily," Liv looks like she's about to yell at you by how wide her eyes got, but you hold out your hands again. "I told him not to! I just... I don't want to deal with all of that right now."

Liv gives you sympathetic eyes before she brings you down to sit on the couch. There are a few quiet moments before she finally says something. "Look, I know that he meant a lot to you and that you guys used to be close, so yeah, maybe you don't need an apology to fix things. I don’t know how your friendship was, but honestly (Y/N), from experience, denying it won't fix it. You've harbored such strong feelings for him for so long and I saw how it broke you that night. Talking through it with him might be a good thing, even if it's hard. Cause at some point, you might just explode because of it."

"I know," you admit. "You're obviously right! But, I don't want to talk about it just yet. It's nice being able to spend time with him again." She gives you a disappointed look, so you simply add. "I promise. Triple swear, I will talk about it with him and you'll be the first to know what happens."

"Okay, good." She seems satisfied with the promise, especially since you used your ultimatum with her that you made back in college. Back then, you used it to promise that you'd load each other's clothes into the machine. But now, it was used for bigger things. "Now, let's look through these stylings you picked, yeah?"

A/N: yay! another chapter done and i hope you like this one! reader should definitely start listening to liv (tee hee). i apologize if it’s a little fast paced but there’s only a few chapters in this fic so bear with me and i hope you all still enjoy it. i'm definitely thinking of doing insert chapters and outtakes like illiterateaffairs’ distraction series once it’s over if you guys would be interested in that! that’s all, see you next time!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamirtarttdodo @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

[holylulusworld]

The ring

Summary: A ring. A broken heart.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, breakup, no happy end, Andy being a douche

Hatred. 

Hatred is not the absence of love. It’s the contrary. 

There is so much love in a loving heart that it turns into hatred when you get robbed of your love.

But the love remains deep within you. That’s what’s hurting the most. That your heart still remembers how it felt to be in love. 

The person leaving you doesn’t know what they have done. It’s not their fault your heart is bleeding love after they cut you open.

At least that’s what they like to tell themselves when they lie awake and think about the decisions they made.

If they think about you at all.

You will ask yourself what you did wrong. Or if there was a way to stop them from leaving you. 

Did you talk too much about yourself? Did you not care enough about him? Did you not turn him on any longer?

In the end, you’ll never know. 

Most of the time your questions won’t be answered.

Except. In your case. You know what you did wrong.

You asked him to finally take off his wedding band.

He refused. He didn’t even give you a reason why he won’t take it off. 

It ended in a fight. An awful fight. The kind of fight in which you tear each other apart until nothing is left but bruised egos and broken hearts.

He just left you there, in the middle of the living room you wanted to share soon. 

The door slammed shut. Your heart shattered. The tears started to finally fall.

It took you almost half an hour to remember that you are standing in a house that isn’t yours.

“Fuck,” you buried your face in your hands. “How can he just leave me here? We wanted to have a look at the fucking house!”

“Miss…uh-I’m sorry to disturb your breakdown or whatever you are experiencing,” the broker nervously poked his head inside the room. “Your boyfriend left and…you know…I got other interested parties. They want to have a look around the house too.”

You blinked the tears away. This was the house you have been dreaming of for so long. You decided to buy it with Andy and suddenly, everything was in ruins.

“I guess they’ll get happy here,” you gave the poor guy an apologetic smile. He had to listen to your fight with Andy. “Sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for your time. You’ll sell the house in no time. I’m sure of it. It’s very nice.”

You were more than embarrassed when you turned to leave the house you had hoped to buy. “He’s a fool if he hangs onto the past.”

“Maybe I’m just not the right person for him,” you wanted to roll your eyes at the broker. You never were a fan of unwanted advice. Especially when it comes from a stranger. “Have a good day…”

You left the house and moved on. Never looking back.

It was six months later that you ran into him again. Per accident. Literally.

You ended up hitting his ass and lower back with your shopping cart as you were busy checking your shopping list.

“Sorry, I—” you stammered to his back. Unbeknownst that it was the man breaking your heart you just hit with your shopping cart. “I wasn’t looking where I’m going.”

“Miss you should always watch where you are going. People can get hurt if you don’t,” he turned around to give you an angry look. “Oh…it’s you.” Andy nervously looked around the supermarket. As if he was afraid you’ll cause a scene.

Of course, he still looked good. How you wished he wouldn’t.

“I’ll keep it in mind for my next grocery run.”

Anything in you was screaming to just run out of the supermarket, but you didn’t want to let him win again. Just like you wouldn’t cry in front of him.

“Y/N…”

At least he remembered your name. That was a pro. You would have chuckled at the thought if your heart wasn’t still battered and bruised.

“Mr. Barber,” you coolly replied. “If you would excuse me now. I got more things on my list.”

“You’re still making lists, huh?” Andy tried to keep you from walking off right away. “Listen, what happened back then…we never talked about it.”

“I need to go now.”

You turned your shopping cart and just went away. It was too late for poor excuses now. 

After what happened at the house, you tried to call him. Andy never answered. He just went on with his life and forgot about you and your relationship.

Typical.

Another month later you ran into Andy again. At your favorite café. 

This time, he pulled a chair for a pretty blonde. Again, he was stabbing your heart as it seemed he moved on to the next girl.

Maybe this one wouldn’t ask him to take off his wedding band.

“One tea, chamomile,” you ignored the aching in your chest. “A red velvet cupcake and…” you pushed the tears away as the clerk asked if you want to stay. “No…not today. I got a lot of things to do.”

It was a blatant lie. Usually, you loved spending your Saturdays at the café. Andy managed to ruin this for you too. “Next time then.”

“Next time,” you gave the clerk a cracked smile. “Have a great weekend.”

You passed Andy’s table, acting like you didn’t see him on a date with another woman. 

He moved on. It was time for you to do the same.

Three weeks later you finally made a decision. You had to move on and forget about the life you wanted to have with Andy. 

If he couldn’t even give up his wedding band for you, he was not worth your time.

“I like this one,” you looked around the house. It was smaller than the one you wanted to buy with Andy, but it would be yours. “It’s cute…and I like the garden. Do you think the owner will go down with the price?”

“I’ll talk to them,” the broker pointed at the broken window in the kitchen. “The house needs a lot of fixing. I’m sure they’ll agree.”

“I hope so,” you looked around the kitchen again. “Damn, I’ll paint the kitchen neon and dance all night.”

The broker chuckled. “After you bought the house, you can do whatever you want with it. I’m sure the kitchen will look pretty in pink.”

“They don’t want to sell it to me?” you sighed deeply when your broker called you two days later. “Why? I got the money and all…”

He explained that someone else offered more money and that he couldn’t do more for you. Of course, they would always go for the person paying more money. That’s just how this works. 

A new house for someone else. Another broken dream to you.

You already imagined moving into this new place, now you were back to square one.

“I understand. Maybe next time then,” you tried not to sound too sad. “Thank you for your help.”

You hung up the phone. Disappointed. Disheartened.

“Nothing ever works out for me,” you wiped your wet eyes. “I can’t even buy a fucking house…”

“Tea, peppermint please.”

Once again you found your way to the café. “A red velvet cupcake and some chocolate chip cookies too. I need something to...,” you sighed deeply and shook your head,” doesn’t matter.”

“Y/N,” your body went stiff hearing Andy call out your name. Out of all the days, he could come here, it had to be this one. “Hey, good to see you.”

“Can we not do this post-breakup shit right now, Andy?” you snapped at him. “I lost something very great today to someone else.”

“I thought we could have a coffee together and talk,” he offered as you whipped your head toward him to glare at Andy.

“I’m not in the mood to have an awkward conversation about our past relationship and to hear half-hearted apologies. Your silence and the way you left me told me everything I needed to know. So please, just leave me alone.”

You walked out of the café, not wanting to see his face any longer. It still pained you too much to be close to the man breaking your heart.

Andy followed you outside, to walk next to you.

“What did you lose?” Andy asked, not giving in so easily. “Y/N?”

“I wanted to buy a house,” you exhaled sharply. “They sold it to someone else, though. I didn’t have enough money. Are you happy now?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Where was the house?”

“Andy, can we not do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t talk to you. You just left me there at the house and refused to acknowledge my existence. You weren’t man enough to break up with me. No.You just upped and left.”

“You asked me to take off my wedding band,” he argued. “I told you about my past and everything I lost. Still, you wanted me to give up the last piece reminding me of what I have lost.”

“It’s been five years, Andy,” you stopped walking away to look at him. “Do you know how it feels when someone calls you Mrs. Barber and I have to explain that I’m not your wife? Every single time they looked at your wedding band, believing I’m your sidepiece. I only wanted to not feel like I’m your dirty little secret.”

You huffed. “But you are living in the past. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. It doesn’t matter. You will never be able to take it off. And I’ll never be able to forget how you made me feel when you left me there, at the house we wanted to fill with love and life.”

Andy could only watch you walk away. Once again, he was the one left behind.

Only this time, it was his fault alone…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Happy New Year everyone!! Enjoy this chapter and new chapters every Monday! 💜💜

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 2: Taboo

Yoongi wakes up the next morning to an empty bed once again. He woke up to see Hyeri off when she left for her early shoot. He made her a quick snack to take with her, then fell right back to sleep the moment she left. Now he’s up again just a mere 3 hours later with an hour to spare before he heads off to his own scheduled shoot.

He rolls out of bed and makes himself a breakfast smoothie. With their world tour coming up he’s been on his pre-comeback diet which he mostly follows except when he’s with Hyeri. The way things have been lately, any time with her is worth breaking his diet.

When the time comes, he gathers everything he’ll need for the day and heads out once a manager arrives to take him to his first stop. Today’s schedule starts with a commercial shoot followed by a short promo shoot for the upcoming New Years Con being streamed on Weverse. After that, it’s dance practice until they all master the choreo or start fighting with each other too much from exhaustion. Then he’ll be in his studio finalizing some songs, making new ones, and working on a few projects he took on when he couldn’t get himself to say no to anyone.

With this schedule he has very little time to look at his phone. It’s nothing new to him and Hyeri though. They’re used to being so busy that they don’t even have a second to send a text to each other, and that’s exactly how Yoongi’s day is going. He gets all the way to practice having only checked his phone once during lunch where he sent Hyeri a quick message telling her to have a good day and that he loves her.

At practice the guys are all still working on perfecting their set list for their tour. They work one song at a time with the choreographer to make sure they have the moves down and then evaluate whether the song order is doable. It’s physically and mentally testing, but again it’s nothing new for these 7 veterans of the business.

During a short break Yoongi takes a seat against the wall next to Jin who hands him a bottle of water. “How do they have so much energy?” Jin asks pointing to Taehyung and Jungkook who are playing around in the middle of the floor.

“Their generation is a different breed,” Yoongi laughs watching along as Jimin and Hoseok record the two youngest’s impromptu breakdance battle on their phones.

When Namjoon enters the room from the bathroom, everyone begins moving into position to get back to practice. However, Namjoon pulls Yoongi to the side first.

“Hey hyung,” Namjoon says in a hushed tone. “I just want to give you a heads up.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shows Yoongi an article.

BTS SUGA HOLDING HANDS WITH IDOL ACTRESS RAINBOW

Right under the headline is a photo of Yoongi and Hyeri after they ate together the day before. Usually Yoongi, and the rest of the guys, would roll their eyes at such articles. It’s not the first time any of them have been photographed within 10 feet of someone else and had it turn into dating rumors. It’s easy to ignore because it’s typically not long before the chatter dies down and the public has moved on to something else. Usually. But the photo is too damning to be ignored.

For the very brief moment that Yoongi and Hyeri held each other’s hand outside of the restaurant yesterday, someone managed to take a picture of them. Now the image of them with their hands linked while they gaze into each other’s eyes is all over the internet.

Denying the rumors is what they normally would do. It’s easy. But not this time. Namjoon doesn’t have to say anything else to Yoongi because he already knows what this means. He’ll have to make a statement, and denying the relationship may not be so easy this time.

“Have you heard from Rainbow?” Namjoon asks.

“No,” Yoongi says. “I haven’t been on my phone all day.” He reaches for his pocket then realizes he left his phone in his bag in his studio upstairs. He looks at Namjoon wondering if it would upset the others if he ran upstairs for his phone.

“Come on, guys!” Hobi shouts getting in formation.

“You think she’s ok?” Namjoon asks.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi sighs. “Maybe she hasn’t seen anything yet, she’s supposed to be on set all day.”

“Then I’m sure she’s fine,” Namjoon resolves moving to join the rest of the group. “Let’s get this over with.”

The remainder of practice is hardly memorable to Yoongi. His body is there on autopilot, but his mind is far gone. He knew from the start that he and Hyeri’s relationship would be risky. An idol dating is always a hot topic, but two idols dating each other is a much larger issue. He hates the taboo, and while he’s certain there will be many people happy for them, he knows the nasty other side all too well. He can handle it, he has been since before their debut, but he worries about Hyeri.

When Hyeri debuted she was part of a four member girl group called Two Piece under Starlight Entertainment. Although they were under a much smaller company, they still managed to gain a decent following after their debut. Rainbow quickly became known as the adorably shy maknae with the voice to make anyone melt.

Behind the scenes, she found herself afraid to say much for fear that she would be kicked from the group. She got along well with her members, but management kept incredible amounts of pressure on them that had all four of them afraid to say or do anything. They thought the threats of being released would end once they debuted, but it didn’t. Not only that, but everything they did came with punishment. Even when they thought they did well, they were sent home to nothing more than a bowl of rice they had to share.

The company had no money and only one artist. Two Piece. The pressure was heavy because the company was so deep in debt, but no one realized just how much until an exposé was published revealing more than anyone knew was going on.

The CEO of Starlight was found to be in debt to a few powerful figures of the underworld. A gambling addiction, shady financial dealings, and a smuggling operation spanning three countries sent Starlight to its very quick and public demise. The company was shut down and police launched a lengthy investigation.

On top of everything else, Two Piece learned that the rights to all of their music and content was sold off by the CEO to cover some of his debt. It took a long time for authorities to track down who the CEO sold the rights to, but once they did there was nothing they could do. The person was unwilling to cooperate and refused to give ownership back to Two Piece without a large payment. Of course they never saw a dime from anything they had done so they were unable to offer anything.

The cruelty and unfairness of the business resulted in the end of Two Piece. They had hoped to sign elsewhere, but after losing hope in getting their songs back, and losing hope in music altogether, rapper and vocalist EJ quit music for good. She left Seoul and went to stay on her aunt and uncle’s farm in the countryside north of Busan. She comes around once or twice a year to reunite with the rest of the group to catch up a bit, but she maintains a very low key and internet free hermit lifestyle.

Not wanting to carry on as Two Piece without all four members, the remaining three decided to disband and go their separate ways. Leader and main dancer Haeun went on a few dance competition shows before earning recognition as one of the generations best dancers. She remains in Seoul as a dance mentor on idol survivor shows and occasionally hosts dance workshops. Minji, vocalist and second youngest, released two solo albums with a different label before leaving the entertainment business and teaching musical theater at a performing arts school near Seoul.

Lastly, the shy and soft spoken Hyeri aka Rainbow remained in the music business until she recently began her acting career. She’s received lots of positive feedback for her acting from both fans and peers. Colleagues and production staff on every set she’s worked on praise her for being one of the sweetest and easiest people to work with.

It’s been 5 years since the scandal that ended their group, and now Hyeri finds herself sitting at home staring at the photo of her and Yoongi that’s been spreading across the internet all day. She was sent home after finishing only half of her shoot for her “safety” and they promised to reschedule in a few days. She was unsure why until she went back to her dressing room to change and she saw the many messages on her phone.

Minji and Haeun were just checking in on her knowing how hard things can be for her whenever she’s the subject of rumors or anything deemed controversial. Her mom let her know that if she and Yoongi need to disappear for a bit they can always come stay with them in Gwangju. Her manager tells her to get some rest and they’ll talk in the morning. There are a few other messages but none from Yoongi aside from the one he sent her earlier in the day. She figures he must not know yet so instead of messaging him she decides to wait for him to find out on his own. The last thing she wants to do is cause a distraction if he just so happens to look at his phone during practice and sees the news from her.

What she doesn’t realize is Yoongi already knows and after another hour of practice, the guys show mercy and end it early. He’s now running to get his bag out of his studio and he sees it. Messages from everyone. His brother, his mom, some friends. Everyone except Hyeri.

He quickly heads out to his car and rushes home. If she hasn’t seen the news then he wants to be home for her when she does. Just like everyone else close to her, he knows she tends to have a hard time with tabloids. He’s surprised to see the lights on when he gets home and more surprised when he sees Hyeri sitting on the couch in a daze.

“What are you doing home so early?” He asks sitting next to her. “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she says softly. “Why are you home so early?”

He looks her over noticing the redness of her eyes. He can definitely smell the red wine on her breath and see the wad of tissue on the table. She knows.

“I’m here for the same reason you are,” he responds. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

She nods. Sniffs. Her lips tremble. Then she shakes her head.

“Do you think they’ll replace me?” She worries. “What if the company drops me?”

“No,” he says pulling her into an embrace. “They’re not going to replace you or drop you from anything. This shit happens all the time.”

“I know, but what do we say when it’s true? That picture is hard to deny.”

“Well…” he thinks a moment. He had been thinking about this since the moment Namjoon showed him the article. He knows they have to say something, but with that photo he feels denying it would just make them seem like liars. He’d rather break the taboo than be a liar. “Maybe we just tell them the truth.”

“What?” She asks surprised that he would suggest such a thing.

“It’s true, so let’s just admit it. Why should we hide our love because of some stupid societal rule that idols can’t date? I don’t care what anyone has to say about it, I love you and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you too baby, I just,” she pauses and takes a breath. “I need to talk to my manager tomorrow first.”

“What?” He raises a brow.

“Earlier today I got the lead role in that big drama I auditioned for.”

“Really?” He perks up with excitement knowing just how bad she wanted that role and how hard she practiced for it. It’s not only a lead role, but her first lead role. The big opportunity she’d been dreaming about.

“Yeah,” she says shyly. “They offered the part to me this morning. Nothing has been announced yet though, so…I’m scared I may lose it before I even get started.” She sniffles trying to hide her worried tears.

“Babe,” he says squeezing her tighter. “First I’m so proud of you! And second, this isn’t a reason for you to lose your role.” He cups her cheeks in his hands and gives her a quick peck. “It’ll be ok. Talk to your manager in the morning, but you shouldn’t worry. If we go public then we won’t have to hide anymore. We won’t have to sneak around in the middle of the night anymore.”

He’s hopeful. More than hopeful. He’s never been one to shy away from opposing societal norms, this would be his chance to break down another wall. Not that he’s looking for that praise, he simply just wants to go out with his love without the world trying to make it seem like he’s a bad guy.

Hyeri loves Yoongi’s bold defiance. It’s part of the reason why she fell in love with him. She admires how easy it is for him to throw caution to the wind and do as he pleases regardless of what others think. She feels confident and secure with him, but she’s still scared. The thought of losing her lead role or being embroiled in anything controversial makes her heart race. She’s worked so hard, she can’t lose this now.

When Hyeri talks to her manager the next morning, she feels even more scared. Big Hit gave Yoongi the choice to put out whatever statement he wants either to confirm or deny the relationship. JJS told Hyeri that they would deny the rumors. Yoongi was ready to shout from the rooftops that he and Hyeri are together. Then she told him what her company told her.

She’s a fresh budding actress about to star in her first lead role. Dating rumors would not only cause a negative distraction to the show that’s meant to be highly anticipated, but also would look bad for her image. Aside from the fact that she’s an idol, she’s also a new actress and the best roles are given to those who are young and available. The pure and innocent. The perfect star for a drama that calls for a lovable but oblivious female lead. Being in a romantic relationship with a member of the biggest group on the planet would send her image in a direction that her company doesn’t want.

“Did you even try to stand up for yourself?!” Yoongi shouts jumping up from the couch after she tells him the result of the conversation with her manager.

“What was I supposed to say?” Hyeri shouts back not quite bold enough to stand along with him. He’s 3 inches taller than her so it wouldn’t do her any good. “I could lose everything!”

“But you don’t mind losing me?” He huffs.

“Yoongi, you know that’s not it! You know this is my dream! You know how scared I am of having it taken away from me! What could I do?!”

“Stand your ground, Na Hyeri!!” He understands that she’s not typically the one who’s able to speak up when it comes to defying anything a superior says, but he thought she at least loved him enough to try.

“I don’t have a ground to stand on!” She cries in frustration. “I’m not a member of the biggest fucking group in the world! I can’t just say something and have the world cater to my every need! I can’t rebel knowing I have millions of fans around the world to carry me no matter what!”

“The number of fans you have has nothing to do with you speaking up for yourself!”

“Says the one who doesn’t have to worry about that shit!” She finally stands looking up at him. She doesn’t care that he’s taller, she’s pissed and he needs to know it. “You’re so far up in your cloud that you forget how it is for those of us that can’t just walk into a building and have everyone obey our every command!”

“That’s not-“

“I can’t just go against the company!” She stomps her foot about to completely explode. “I worked too hard to lose this, Yoongi! I love you but I can’t sacrifice my dream just to be a rebel or some shit! I’m not you!”

“Hye-“

“No!” She interrupts. “No matter what you say it won’t change the fact that we’re on much different levels. No one gives a shit about me. There’s a line of people waiting to take my place and I haven’t even started. I have a ways to go to build even half the following and support you have. I can’t do anything outside of the company’s wishes. I just need you to understand that.”

“I do, Hyeri, but I need you to understand that you’re not going to instantly lose everything because we tell the world we’re dating. Even if you do I can take care of you and anything you need. I can put you in contact with anyone you want and you’ll be fine.”

“Yoongi,” she sighs stepping back. “They’re already getting ready to put the statement out. It’s out of my hands.”

She walks off and goes into the bedroom leaving Yoongi standing in the middle of the living room. He knows she has a hard time with these things and he knows it’s not entirely wrong of her to fear for her job because of it. But he also feels like she should trust him more.

Either way, he’s not happy right now. He packs his work bag and decides to leave for his studio. He’s got a small bit of time before he has to jump right into the day’s schedule, so he’ll take this time to work on the things he didn’t work on yesterday and simply cool off a bit. Because as if he wasn’t already upset, Hyeri giving him the silent treatment before he left didn’t make things any better.

The statement from JJS denying the dating rumors only said they’re just friends who went out for a meal. Nothing more to it. Yoongi decided he didn’t want Big Hit to put out a statement at all. If that’s the statement her company is going with then he’d rather just stay silent. Either way, it hurts him.

He never thought he’d hurt over something like this. Maybe he’s being too emotional and not very logical. Maybe he’s letting his heart get the best of him.

He works all day but he’s not mentally present. He knows everyone else saw the statement. He knows they’re trying hard to not mention it. They’re trying hard to make things seem normal, but it’s not working well.

Hobi’s face can never tell a lie, and the way his mouth twists into a concerned frown when he sees Yoongi miss a step in practice is all too noticeable. Instead of scolding Yoongi as he normally would, he stays silent when Yoongi forgets a move. Hobi lets it slide when he does it again. After the fourth time Yoongi knows it’s intentional. There’s never a practice where Hobi isn’t catching and calling out every dance mistake. Yoongi thought him letting it go the first time was generous, but now its too much. Yoongi can tell Hobi doesn’t want to say or do anything that may make him more upset in any way.

Yoongi hates it. He hates the big ass elephant in the room. He hates that something so trivial is effecting him this bad. He hates that by the time he’s done with practice and back in his studio he hasn’t heard a word from Hyeri. That hurts.

Hyeri had her shoot rescheduled for the following day which left her with the entire day to herself. She spent most of the time reading comments online after the dating rumors were denied. Lots of people don’t believe it, but others are taking the statement at face value and not questioning it any further. It’s a mixed bag which doesn’t make her feel much better about the decision, but she knows there’s nothing she could have done.

She hates fighting with Yoongi. She knew he’d be upset but she wishes he’d be more understanding of her side of things. To her, all she can do is ride on whatever the company says. She’s gone through the worst, but JJS managed to earn her trust. They never treated her badly and even apologized to her when she left her badge at home and had to go through management to get a temporary one so she could get in the building. This company treats her like a valued family member, not a bad dog, and she can’t possibly get herself to do anything against whatever they suggest to her.

She can’t lose this.

[cielcius]

CHAPTER NINE routinely break

SYNOPSIS the repairman receives an advance from his lover.

FROM THE WRITER i didn’t even realize how long it’s been since an update but i luv this au too much to let it sit undone

NOTES & WARNINGS cafeworker!reader, mentions of eating and drinking

SERIES the shoe repairman & his lover

Katsuki feels that he’s fallen fast—too fast—and he has.

It’s 4:30 in the late afternoon. The spring sun is just starting to set for the day in a glory of bright rays and cotton candy skies, and Katsuki thinks it can’t go any slower than it has been the whole day.

It’s not hard to remember the last time he felt this exhausted. He knows the feeling all too well: the yearn for the sigh of relief to a done day, the click of the lock to his shop, and the climb of the stairs at the back of the shop so he could find solace in the chair set by the bay window of his home.

His home is right above his shop. There was absolutely no need for him to venture outside. Yesterday was Sunday, and Sunday was his Everything Day.

Clean his home, check everything off of his grocery list for the week, wash and fold the laundry, and occasionally deep clean his kitchen and bathroom.

There is nothing that needs to be done outside, is what he tells himself as he locks up his shop for the day—from the outside. Go home and rest, is what he tells himself to do as he pockets his keys in his coat and pivots on his heels. Have a nice, quiet evening, is what he tells himself as his feet find a familiar path to a place he has no business being unless he wanted to spend another hefty six dollars on coffee he doesn’t even drink that often.

I want a sweet drink. Katsuki really wishes he had ordered a sweeter drink the first time around as he looks at you and nods when you smile and ask, “The usual?” But he finds that he genuinely can’t say no, especially to a smile like that.

He doesn’t miss the way you linger when you hand him his dark, batman brooding coffee, hand warm on the nearly scalding beverage. And that smile again. He’s lucky to have turned away in time as his own smile pushes through, breaking the barrier before he reseals the cracks, already going through the subconscious motions of tearing through at least three sugar packets.

And like last week (and the week before that, and before that, and before that…), he’ll take a seat in his usual spot, sipping his still-too-bitter coffee as he waits for 6:30 to roll around. He pulls out more work in the meantime, sifting through the countless invoices and bills that keeps his business afloat, all while you finish your shift.

He knows it’s time to leave when you comedically waft a crisp chocolate croissant under his nose, bringing his eyes to you and your other hand where you hold a matching pastry. The added sweetness is not minded alongside the reward of your presence.

The two of you don’t stay long, only until you’ve both finished your pastries before he walks you to your apartment, ears tinged red which he’ll blame on the cold that does the same to his nose. He looks forward to the walk back to your apartment as much as he loathes it. He doesn’t like having to say goodbye to you.

Though despite his distaste for farewells, he uniformly turns to you once outside the lobby doors of your apartment building, waving off the fact that he waits an hour for you to get off work and walk you home as a safety concern. But it really does feel worth it when he watches your eyes crinkle cutely at the corners with happiness, voice warm and inviting as you thank him.

He nods, lets out a hum of acknowledgement, and waits to watch you walk through your lobby safely before turning to make his own way home. Except you don’t walk away, not for another minute.

Katsuki always has his eyes on you, whether he’s aware of it himself or not, but he can tell there’s disturbance in yours, as if you were contemplating something. And oh, is he in for a surprise.

“Would you like to come up for a bit? Maybe for a drink.. or… dinner?”

Ho-ly. Shit. is what Katsuki tells himself as he turns to follow you inside.

[valeriianz]

are you still doing yearning prompts? can you please do "every time you smile i memorize it...." from the list?

what you're about to read doesn't go with this prompt... yet! have a snippet of what's going to be a long Photographer!Hob and Model!Dream au. it's completely outlined so hopefully i'll have it out within a week, but for now, have a little backstory on how they met:

Morpheus had tumbled into his life almost literally. He appeared at the bar Hob worked at, collapsing into a stool and ordering a gin and tonic without so much as a “how are you?” and Hob hadn’t paid much attention to him, at first. They certainly didn’t speak, except for the mundane, “can I get you another?” and a heavy nod from the shadow at the end of the bar.

Morpheus was like a shadow, back then. A wallflower clad in midnight black, all the way to his ruffled head of hair. His skin was milk white with a jawline that could cut. Hob found himself sneaking constant glances at him, finding something new every time. The way he sat, stiff and proper, like he didn’t know how to slouch. The way his fingers wrapped around the short glass, skeletal, but also soft, careful, like what he held in his hand was a precious thing. His face, however, contrasted his demeanor. It gave everything away, his eyes puffy and red, like he’d been crying. Maybe he had been, people who came to a bar alone usually shared in some sob story, though it was interesting that Morpheus hadn’t spoken yet, choosing instead to silently numb himself with gin. 

He was pretty, Hob had thought, in the way a knife was pretty. Cold hard steel, sharp, heavy, lethal. But something that could also get dull and worn down with time. Hob had been curious, had wondered what could dull this man’s edge– a man who affected this tone of grace and confidence, when surely he must’ve known how his eyes betrayed him.

Hob spoke to him as he set down his third drink. He doesn’t remember the details of that first conversation, but Hob does recall easing into it, like walking up to a stray cat. It was clear Morpheus wasn’t interested in discussing why he was alone and upset that night. So Hob instead broke the ice to ramble about the latest book he read, what classes he was taking, the weather, allowing each topic to prompt Morpheus to respond, slowly opening him up until that ramrod straight back finally began to loosen, bending forward. Soon enough the man had his elbows on the bar top, giving Hob his full, undivided attention.

Hob supposes he should remember more, given the crater Morpheus left in his life. But it had been a busy night, the bar was dark and loud, and if what had happened an hour later hadn’t come to pass, Hob most likely would have brushed off the interesting man in the corner as just another customer. 

As it happened, Morpheus had gotten drunk, was giving out his smile a little more freely, and was glaring daggers at another drunken fellow a few seats down who had been incessantly flirting with Hob.

Hob had a plan with the drunken lech, he always did with unwanted attention from patrons. He played along with the nicer compliments, bit his tongue at the lewder ones, and finally set the man’s check down once he’d said something vulgar about where Hob’s “pretty lips” could be used for. He’d of course said he wasn’t done and after Hob insisted yes, he was, the man had the gall to grab Hob’s arm and pull.

Now, Hob could defend himself, was no amateur in a brawl, and was about to use his free hand to grab the back of the guy's head and smack his face into the bar, when suddenly it had been done for him.

His stranger at the end of the bar was there in a flash, pulling the man’s head back up by the hair and shoving him hard enough to make him tumble backwards and off the stool. Hob took a baffled moment to simply gawk, watching with wide eyes as the man landed on the floor in a crumpled heap before Morpheus grabbed him by the collar to hoist him up again with a strength that probably surprised everyone who was now watching.

In the time it took to give the guy a right hook, causing everyone to emit a chorus of “ooh!” after the sickening sound of bone connecting with bone, Hob remembered he should break this up. He met his manager on the floor and grabbed Morpheus around the shoulders, turning him violently away at the same time his boss had the other man in a choke-hold. Morpheus had his hands up in surrender as Hob forcibly pulled him through the dining room and out the door.

Normally Hob took a great deal of pleasure kicking rowdy customers out, tossing them onto the sidewalk like a bag of trash, but as he pitched the man in his arms out into the cool night air, he knew he’d been smiling for a whole different reason. He shouldn’t find the drunken fight to be amusing, but rationality wasn’t Hob’s strong suit, back then.

Morpheus had stumbled, nearly getting tangled in his long legs, before swinging his head to regard Hob.

Hob had expected some kind of tantrum, a biting remark about how unfair this was, or an explanation, but instead what Morpheus had said was,

“I haven’t paid my bill.”

Hob snorted, watching him sway on the spot and breathing heavily, the adrenaline of the fight still obviously pulsing through his veins.

“Come back tomorrow.”

[idabbleincrazy]

Some more Clark pov from Never a Wish Better Than This:

Through the wonders of the internet, I discovered that, yeah, maybe I did have some attraction to guys. None of the porn I stumbled across made me feel quite as aroused as my Lex-based daydreams, but I couldn't deny that there had been some definite tightening of my jeans as I watched. I also discovered that my attraction to girls may have lessened, but not entirely disappeared. Lana still entered my dreams from time to time; and there was that one really haunting visit where she showed up while Lex and I were tangled together, and instead of the freak-out dream-me had expected, she eagerly joined in. That had led me down a whole other rabbit hole.

But, still, life continued on, with just another secret about myself to hide beneath my naive, bumbling exterior. I think I've managed to keep my growing attraction to Lex a secret from nearly everyone. Except maybe from Chloe. She's altogether too good at ferreting out the truth, and I've seen some of the looks she's given me when the conversation turns to Lex, or when he shows up with yet another extravagant gift I can't keep. If anyone knows, it would be her. Has she seen it there, on my face? The longing? The need? Are they the same looks I never managed to recognize her casting my way…the same looks I sometimes still see her give me when she thinks I'm not looking?

Things only got harder after tenth grade. After I ran away in a haze of red Kryptonite, guilt-ridden over the aftermath of my decision to destroy the ship and bitter over Lex's latest marriage. Metropolis opened my eyes to a world of new experiences. While Clark was busy hiding from the pain he'd caused and the struggle of figuring out whether he still loved Lana the same way he always had or if Lex had slowly but surely replaced her atop that lonely pedestal, Kal was having the time of his life.

No rules, no chores, no curfew, and just legal enough. Oh yeah, Kal had no qualms about living it up in the big city. And now I've got a brain full of memories, memories of experiences I'd rather have explored with people I'd known for more than an hour. I mean, I'm still a…virgin…in all the ways that count the most, but there were plenty of firsts that got checked off the list during those months of self-imposed exile. But, I confirmed without a doubt that I am definitely, undeniably, bisexual.

I knew Lex had supplanted himself ahead of Lana in my romantic leanings when the sight of her with Jason didn't hurt the way seeing her with Whitney had. The love I felt for her had shifted. Lex is who I see now, when I close my eyes and let my hand wander beneath my boxers, smooth, pale skin and stormy eyes fill my head as I bite back my cries of pleasure.

@leatafandom

[cmutty]

37 days!

37 days from the time my wife’s water broke, on the Fourth of July, until our 5+ pound baby was finally able to come home. He wasn’t due until 8/30 and we had no reason to believe this third baby would come any earlier than his older brothers (36 and 38 weeks). But early he was and the past month was one of the hardest we’ve ever experienced as a family.

We were visiting family in VT when my wife (Peg) suddenly gave me a look of panic that stopped me in my tracks. I thought I had done or said something wrong but it turned out it was her water breaking at just under 32 weeks. We didn’t panic. She got herself situated in the bathroom while I got the kids situated, called the in-laws to get them home, and hurried to pack stuff so we’d be prepared at the hospital. We kissed the kids goodbye not knowing what awaited us at the hospital.

The UVM medical center emergency room is out of this world. On the way we envisioned a number of burn victims from fire works (it was 7/4) but didn’t have time to inspect the clientele as we were busy getting through security. Thankfully a staff member realized my wife was in labor so she could skip the metal detector…I was less lucky. We were quickly screened and brought to Labor and Delivery where we had a beautiful view of the lake but more importantly confirmed Peg was in labor. We weighed our options with the Drs who thought we could safely drive ourselves to Boston but our receiving hospital (MGH) couldn’t recommend we attempt it. She received the antibiotics to delay labor, the steroids to expedite lung development, and we received a list of hospitals between Burlington and Boston in the event labor progressed and we needed to make an emergency stop. All I could think about was delivering our baby somewhere along 89 in VT or NH which would have been a disaster. Back to the in-laws house to say good bye to everyone (including the older boys) and off we sped back to Boston.

The drive was mostly smooth sailing with the exception of a batch of white out rain near Barre, VT. We couldn’t see the car in front of us for a stretch and I was white knuckled enough driving with a wife in labor. There was no sweeter feeling as checking off each hospital on our list as we got closer to Boston. Our biggest concern was road closures in the city given it was the Fourth of July and the fireworks were 3 hours away. Google delivered us and I dropped Peg off at the front door before parking the car and racing up to Labor and Delivery on the 14th floor.

Turns out this happens often and women end up in an antepartum unit where they’re closely monitored and not able to leave the hospital. Peg’s water broke just before 32 weeks and the goal was to keep her pregnant until 34 weeks. The thinking is, at that gestational age the risks of an infection outweigh the growth benefits of any more time in the womb. So I packed her clothes, bought her a book of NY Times crossword puzzles, and picked up some favorite foods from TJs to last what we hoped would be two weeks.

The best part (for me) was the roommates! Each had their own stories to unpack from the single mom with a boyfriend who got told not to come to the birth, to the mother who claimed to know enough about medicine that she didn’t need to be there, or to the mother of twins who was in and out before visiting hours even came. A tv show, movie, or documentary could be compelling as people try to live with what little privacy a curtain provides. We would cuddle in the hospital bed and try our best to pretend we were the only ones in the room but there were constant reminders of the roommates. We did manage to watch most of Ted Lasso together which was enjoyable and helped pass the time.

Had this been our first pregnancy a two week stay at MGH would have been more “manageable.” But having two kids and a dog at home meant very few opportunities to visit Peg. Thankfully all three were still in VT for the first few days. When Grandma brought them to Brookline she stayed for a couple days. The next week was a struggle! I’ve been a stay at home parent for four years but that doesn’t prepare you for being a single parent with a dog for over a week. Luckily Morgan was scheduled for day camp that week so we had scheduled walks and some structure to the days. The hardest part was we couldn’t find a single baby sitter which meant I was unable to visit Peg during that stretch. But my mom arrived the following week and the boys went off to Maine for a few days and I was able to visit Peg again and be there for the birth.

On 7/19 we hit the 34 week mark and it was on to the induction. I got to the hospital on the early side and the day dragged on as we waited for a room. We kept getting told they were having a busy day on Labor & Delivery and that we were next on the list for an open room. We finally got the call around 5 and were moved to coincidentally the same room our first son was born in. The view of Cambridge and the Charles is remarkable from that side of the building. We were sure to snap a pic of the sunset that evening and settled in for what looked likely to be a long night.

They had used Pitocin for our first two pregnancies and this one would be no different. Pitocin starts and progresses contractions to speed up labor. It was necessary for our first baby as he was 36 weeks when Peg’s water broke and they wanted him out quickly. My wife experienced pre-eclampsia with the second pregnancy so Pitocin was once again necessary. It wasn’t my wife’s plan for this little guy as labor can progress quicker than is comfortable and the side effects post labor can be disorienting while you’re trying to bond with your new baby. It was unfortunately necessary this time too given she was 34 weeks. She looked at me when they connected the IV and said, “I’m in control.” Our mantra for the evening was born and every time she was having a bad contraction or things were feeling difficult we would say together “I am in control.” It seemed to help and like a champ Peg used Nitrous Oxide as her only pain management for the third time. She was in control. The other major difference was a desire to be able to stand which she didn’t get for her second delivery. The flexibility exercises and standing really helped to the point she was dilating and the nurse said, “I don’t want you giving birth to this baby on the floor,” and she was as quick as she could moved back into the bed.

The nurse’s “friends” appeared from nowhere which was good because around 6am the whole thing came to a head. She was fully dilated, ready to push, and he was out and with us in no time. According to the doctor, Morrison practically flew into their arms weighing a monstrous 5lbs and 1oz which we all agreed wasn’t that small for a 34 week old baby. I chose not to cut the cord as I was crying from the pure joy of our ordeal finally being over.

The preemie team and Pediatrician descended upon him to inspect and assess what he needed for care. The Pedi assured me he looked very healthy for his age and even pointed out his testicles had descended which was unusual for that age. They conferred and finally told me he’d be brought to Special Care which is the step down from the NICU but still the appropriate level of care for him given his age. The following hour would be one of the most tumultuous of my life as his health appeared to steadily decline and my wife was wheeled away for an operation.

My wife had a history of a sticky placenta and this one was no different. Removing it requires anesthesia, which Peg hadn’t needed while delivering Morrison but was unavoidable now. I remembered this feeling of fear as I said goodbye to Peg but this time I didn’t want to stay in the delivery room as our son was being wheeled down to Special Care. I followed the bassinet and found it amusing they wheeled the kid whose initials are MM to the O side of the room. Hospitals can’t charge as much for Special Care as they can the NICU which means the former tends to have cozier conditions. This room had 4 babies at varying stages from bassinet only to full on isolette which we would eventually come to accept as our son’s temporary home. Everything seemed normal when we got there and I was feeling optimistic that maybe a few days would be enough for Morrison. I went to check on Peg’s status but the nurse was with her in surgery. I debated waiting but opted to return to our baby. When I got there they had made the decision to deliver low flow oxygen through a tube in his nose. He was not a fan of the tube just like his grandfather and they were constantly replacing and taping it. I returned to Peg’s room but she was still not back from surgery and it was getting to be the point where it seemed like someone would have found me by now had something gone wrong. Within 10 minutes they were rolling her back into the room and a massive sense of relief overcame me to see her again. We caught up on Morrison’s status and I went back down to check on him. This time the NP was delivering CPAP as his lungs weren’t expanding enough to deliver oxygen and I nearly hit the floor at the sight. They suggested I take a seat which I did to try and comprehend what was happening to our baby. I returned to get Peg and bring her down to Morrison, hoping this time there wouldn’t be something new for the nurses to explain. Once she was settled we made the decision that I would drive with Gammie to Maine to pickup the older two boys from Grandma. We decided Gammie should drive since I had not slept as Peg had just be in labor overnight. We got back to Brookline and settled the boys in for the night so I could spend it in the hospital with Peg and Morrison. She was discharged the next day she was finally able to go home to our family except one.

Leaving the hospital without your newborn child has got to be one of the worst feelings of our lives. Having brought two home already there was this sense of abandonment or loss as we got in the car and consoled each other. Getting home was easy, being home must have felt strange for Peg after so much time away. We made a plan to go visit Morrison after the older kids were in bed and packed some things for the car ride. As we got in the car I noticed a missed call from a 617 number and immediately called it back. The caller ID said MGH and we would spend the next few minutes frantically getting different nurses until we finally got some answers. Morrison needed surgery and we needed to get there ASAP if we wanted to see him before he went to the OR.

The drive to MGH would be straight forward for a Saturday night had we not been frantic with fear, guilt, and all the emotions of a parent having just received the call. I dropped Peg off at the door and called grand mothers to let them know what limited info we had at the moment. His nurse had discovered his belly was hard and distended. He likely had a perforation of his intestines and they needed to operate to discover and repair the hole. We were informed that the chief of pediatric surgery was being called in to perform the operation. It should only be a few hours. The anesthesiologist had an accent and it wasn’t long before he noticed my rugby shirt which of course became the topic of conversation. I would have preferred to focus on our son but so it goes. Off he went and we were escorted to what would become his room in the NICU. There Peg could get some sleep and I sat up waiting for news on our son.

The wait was grueling. The Drs had made his operation sound routine but for us it was a life or death situation for our two day old. I remember my brain thinking how was this my fault and why did we think we should have another kid. That said I was reassured he was in the best place for a baby with these conditions and that he was in “good hands.” Around 2am the anesthesiologist was the first to appear with the good news that everything was ok. I woke Peg and he was shortly after wheeled in with what felt like 40 Drs and nurses. The chief found us among the chaos to let us know the operation was successful, the hole was significantly bigger than they had anticipated, and they had removed a section of his intestines to make the repair more secure. They didn’t think it would have a long term impact on his health and there would just be some regular followup to ensure everything is healing. Relief! Once things had calmed down I said goodbye to Peg so someone could be home when the older kids woke up to let them know what had happened while they slept.

The next week in the NICU was a blur. He wouldn’t be allowed to eat for a few days to a week. The intubation tube could come out within a day but he would still need oxygen. We could hold him from time to time and had 24/7 access but it still felt like the nurses were raising our baby. Which was for the best. We came up with a visiting schedule that coincided with Peg’s pumping schedule and the kid’s schedules. My mother left that following Wednesday and Peg’s mother arrived seamlessly that afternoon. That was around the time we started to feed him very small amounts of milk which seemed like a huge milestone for us. The NICU proved to be a rather uneventful experience and we even got a few family visits in.

At the end of that week we had a family meeting where it was clear that Morrison was progressing and could move back to Special Care. One step closer to home! We left as they were just waiting on a bed. That night he was moved to bed M :) While we were excited for the move it meant we would have less accommodations. We still had 24/7 access but what we wanted was for him to come home. Visiting the hospital was beginning to wear on us, more so for Peg, as the weeks were beginning to turn into a month. He would need to be out of the isolette, regulate his body temperature, and able to drink 90% of his milk from a bottle. Anything not finished from a bottle would be fed through a tube in his nose. The next few days would be critical to getting him home based on advice we had received.

A friend who had a 28 week baby a few years ago was advising us through the process from the 4th. His biggest piece of advice was being there and managing the feedings. If we didn’t take the initiative to ensure he drank his entire bottle in the allotted 30 minutes. We (I) took this advice to heart and felt like I needed to do whatever it took to get our son home. Any feeding that only went 20-30% in his mouth felt like a loss as I watched the rest go through a tube. One feeding was not going well as he started to fall asleep with the bottle in his mouth. I did my best to stir him and get him to take the bottle until a nurse noticed and thought he was rejecting and I was forcing the bottle on him. Her reaction to the situation felt blown out of proportion as she started to throw words around like “aversion” and I handed him over to tube feed. I didn’t realize the extent to which I had triggered the nurse until a social worker came in to scold me about our son developing an aversion. They really tried to reinforce that he would develop at his own pace and a switch would flip. I wasn’t impressed and we started to feel like maybe he would be better at another hospital and called our Pediatrician for her advice. She reassured us he was in good hands and broke the news that there would be no transfer. We took a day off from visiting and regrouped to trust and be patient with the process.

The next few days he showed steady progress and we were beginning to feel optimistic! He was getting to 80% and soon the feeding tube would come out to test if he could reach 100%. He passed the test and before we knew it we received the call that he was ready to come home. We dropped Morgan off at robot camp, Malcolm with some close friends, and we were on our way to pickup Morrison who was finally getting discharged…37 days later.

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 40K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️).

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @shewillreadyou @txemrn @twinkleallnight @peonierose

This goes without saying but MAJOR SHOUTOUT AND THANK YOU TO @shewillreadyou! I swear! She always helps me untangle the tangled mess that is known as my brain when it comes to writing and story ideas. I love you girl! 😘

Listen this chapter has 8 different ideas and story plots that I had all dumped into one chapter. Hence why it is so damn long. I just kept writing until I knew it was done. This will be a four-part chapter. This is part one.

Chapter 7.) One Last Goodbye. Part 1.

Shanelle was sitting at her desk going over her business model for Rys International with a fine tooth comb, when her phone started to vibrate. When she looked at who was calling her on FaceTime she rolled her eyes. It was her best friend's twin brother Cassian, who just happened to be her childhood ex-boyfriend.

“Hello?” 

“What the hell is wrong with you Shanelle?” he asked. 

“Excuse me?”

“When were you going to tell me Nina was in rehab?!”

Shanelle looked around like she was hearing things. 

“First of all, who the fuck are you talking to like that? Second, I didn't tell you because it wasn't my story to tell.”

“I had a right to know!” he snapped at her. 

“Cass. You got one more time to raise your voice at me before I make you a distant memory.”

Cassian backed down.

“When did this all happen?” he asked. 

“The night she came home,” Shanelle replied.

Cass shook his head. 

“Well, that explains why you walked right past me and didn't say anything that night at the hospital.”

“Your memory must be slipping. Because I stopped talking to you long before she came home. Why the hell would I have talked to you that night?” Shanelle asked. 

“Because I'm her brother Princess,” he replied.

“That's Queen you dick!” she hissed. 

“You should've told me, Shanelle.”

“Okay, I'm gonna say this again. No, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm her brother. I should've been kept in the loop.”

“Exactly. You’re her brother. Not your father. Although you constantly like to act like your dad.”

Shanelle watched him roll his eyes.

“How did she even get to rehab?” he asked.

“Not that I owe you an explanation but, remember when she moved in with me when I worked in D.C. for a few months?” 

“Yeah, what about it?” he asked.

“That was the cover story we came up with to put your parents at ease. The truth is she wasn't staying with me, at least not the whole time. She was an hour away at an inpatient rehab facility in Virginia. And before you go flying off the rails, I called and checked on her every day. And she was allowed to come to my place on weekend passes. I made sure to keep up with the staff treating her. And when she got clean and felt strong enough, she went back to New York, and moved in with Chut and continued at an outpatient rehab facility.” 

“And you didn't think I needed to know any of this?” he asked Shanelle.

“Nope. Not in the least. My priority was her and her well-being not you and your need to know. Besides, the last thing she needed at that time was you and your constant condescendence.” she replied.

“That is not fair and you know it Shanelle.”

“Yeah well, neither is life, Cass. But hey! We all gotta deal with it somehow.” 

“Whatever.”

“Yeah. So are we done here?” she asked. 

“No. I'm not letting you off the hook that easily,” he replied.

Shanelle groaned. 

“Last time I checked, I don't answer to you. Hell, I don't answer anyone for that matter.”

“You could've told my parents. Hell, you could've told Chut or my brother. But you decided to keep your mouth shut. You decided to keep her family in the dark.”

“Yeah, I did. Because I had to, she begged me to keep quiet. It was the only way she would ever agree to go to rehab. So I swore to her that night that I would take it to my grave. Only she and I would know. She needed help, Cass. And I did what I had to do to get her that help. And if it bothers you that I didn't tell you or anyone else, then it's just gonna have to bother you. Because I will never apologize for helping her and not telling you about it.” 

“You have a really misconstrued view of what loyalty means Shanelle.”

“First of all, go fuck yourself. Second, hello pot. My name is kettle. You wouldn't happen to be calling me black, would you?”

“I would've told you if the roles were reversed, Shanelle.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes. 

“A.) you’re lying through your teeth. Which means  B.) you wouldn't have said a damn thing to me.” 

“I'm not lying.”

Shanelle pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I know I've said this to you before Cass, but I'll go ahead and say it again for old time's sake: you are a terrible fucking liar. You have a Tell, you idiot. And it's quite literally the easiest thing in the world to spot.” 

She watched him cut his eyes at her.

“How did you even find this rehab place in Virginia?” he asked.

“The Cordonian Consulate hosted an event for a D.C. charity that provided rehab services to veterans. So I called the director of the charity and he put me in touch with the rehab facility and the rest is ancient history. Or it should be.” she replied.

“So you got her in for free?” he asked.

“Nope. I had to pay for it.”

“How were you able to do that?” he asked.

“I did what I always did. I signed my father’s signature on a check,” she replied.

“You committed check fraud?! What is wrong with you?!” he asked.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you complaining? You? Mr. ‘Hey Nelle. Listen um I don't mean to ask this but I'm a little short this month, do you think you can help me out a little bit?’ Are we really having THAT conversation?” 

Cassian kept his mouth shut.

“Oh, well would you look at that? Sweet silence!”

Cass let out a frustrated sigh.

“How much was the check?” he asked. 

Shanelle shrugged.

“$9,800.00 for six months inpatient,” she replied. 

“Does your father know you forged his name on a check that big?” 

“No, he doesn't. At least he doesn't know about it to my knowledge. But my husband knows about it.” 

“Oh so you can tell him but you couldn't tell me?!” he asked.

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“No, I didn't tell him. There was a 7-day hold put on the check because it was way over the international limit of $5,000.00.” she replied.

“Meaning what?” he asked. 

“Meaning that since it was written from my dad’s Cordonian Account, it had to be cleared by The Royal Treasury. And at that time, Marquise was the head of the Treasury so he was the one who had to clear it.” she replied.

Cass scoffed.

“So he busted you?” he asked. 

“Yeah. He figured out that my dad didn't write the check, so he called and asked why I wrote a check that big. All I told him was it was an emergency and that I needed the check cleared immediately. He cleared it and warned me never to write a check that big without telling him first. Otherwise, I would've had to get approval from either his father or my uncle at the time. And he knew that I would rather have a root canal from Edward Scissorhands without any Novocaine than face either one of them.” she replied. 

Cass shook his head.

“You're lucky I don't have my badge anymore.”

“Oh bitch, please! Even if you had that stupid ass badge you still wouldn't have been able to do shit about it.”

“I could've busted you for check fraud Shanelle.”

“First off, you God awful twat, you were a low-level marshal! You couldn't bust anybody. Second, Diplomatic Immunity exists for a reason. Third, even if you were somehow able to bust me for it, you'd then have to turn around and explain every single check that I ever wrote for you, because of course there is a record of each check.”

She watched a muscle in his jaw tick.

“So in conclusion, I'm gonna need you to get off your self-righteous high horse. Because you are no hero. You love to act like one because you have a severely fucked up hero complex that isn't satisfied unless you’re riding in on your white horse to save the day, but you sir are no hero. Far fucking from it.”

“You always did know how to cover your tracks.” he sneered. 

“I know you mean that to be an insult Cass, but I'm choosing to take it as a compliment. Because you’re right, I do know how to cover my tracks. That's why I'm a lot better at playing the game called life than you are.” 

She watched as Cass rolled his eyes.

“Now, are we done?” she asked.

“I should be even more pissed at you than I actually am.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“My dear Cassian. Allow me to say this so that it is crystal clear: I don't give a flying fuck about you being pissed at me. I did what I had to do and I would do it again.”

“That's the problem. But I am thankful that you were there for Nina. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“Classic Cassian Keane ladies and gentlemen. You are STILL the same pigheaded, impulsive, arrogant idiot that you have always been. You never change.”

Cass shook his head.

“Could be worse. You could've called me a son of a bitch.”

“Nope. Calling you a son of a bitch is an insult to your mother. I'd rather just call you a piece of shit.”

Cass sighed.

“Thank you, Shanelle. I don’t understand why she didn't lean on family. But at least she had you to turn to. And whether you believe me or not, that means a lot to me.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“You're right. I don't believe you. Not for a second. Because knowing you, you don't mean it. But you’re welcome all the same. She would've done the same thing for me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Now get ya sorry ass off my phone.” 

“Bye Princess.”

With that Shanelle hung up the phone with a groan, just as her husband walked into her office.

“Uh oh. I know that look on your face. What happened?” he asked her.

“You will not believe who just called me,” she replied.

Marquise started to guess.

“Your father?” 

“Nope.”

“Your cousin?”

“I would never be that lucky.”

“Okay then who called?” he asked.

“Good old Cassian Keane,” she replied.

Marquise rolled his eyes. 

“Why did he call you? Also, why does he still have your number?” he asked.

“A.) It was a FaceTime call. B.) it was about Nina,” she replied.

“What about her? Is she okay?” he asked as he sat on the edge of her desk.

“She's fine. Do you remember the check I wrote from my dad’s account a few years ago for almost $10,000.00?” she asked.

“Yeah. What about it?” He replied.

“I wrote that check so she could get into rehab without anyone knowing.”

Marquise nodded.

“That's what you meant by it was an emergency.”

“Yeah.”

“So how did he find out about it?” he asked.

“Nina’s personal page on Instagram went dark a few days ago. And nobody could find her. So Cass and Lo hopped on a plane to New York and when they got to Nina’s they found Fentanyl in her bathroom.” she replied.

Marquise exhaled slowly.

“Damn.”

“It wasn't hers.”

“Then who's was it?” he asked.

“It was Sam’s.”

Marquise choked on a laugh.

“Wait! Are you telling me that Sam Dalton is using?” he asked.

“No. At least I hope not. It apparently belonged to his dead wife. And he carries it as a reminder to not be neglectful and be present in someone's life.” she replies.

“So, what does any of that have to do with you?” he asked.

“The boys got the girls and me together to talk about it and I let it slip that she had gone to rehab.” she replied with a sigh, “I can't believe I didn't trust her enough to know she would never go back. She probably hates me right now.”

That's when Marquise stood up and then pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

“Stop that. She doesn't hate you.”

“You don't understand, I promised her that no one would ever find out. Not even you. And I panicked and blurted it out to our entire family.”

“My love, that just proves why you’re her best friend. You kept this a secret from even me, your husband, for a reason. Just so you could protect Nina. You shouldn't feel guilty about that.” 

“You sure?” she asked.

“Positive,” he replied before softly kissing her forehead. 

“Then why do I feel so horrible?” she asked.

“Because I know you. I know how your emotions work. You feel like you betrayed her but I promise you that you didn't. She's not gonna love you any less because you told everyone. My love, you helped save her life. She can never hate you for that.” he replied. 

Shanelle smiled softly.

“I don’t know why I'm so in my head about this.”

“Because that idiot called, riled you up, and it upset you that's why. You swore to your best friend who needed help at one of the most difficult times of her life that you wouldn't say anything. And no matter how upset your ex is, even he can't hold that against you.” 

“How much do you wanna bet that he will?” she asked. 

“If he does then I will deal with him,” he replied. 

“Ever the Knight, my King.”

He chuckled low.

“For you? Always my Queen.” 

Just then there was a knock on her office door from an attendant carrying a large box. 

“Pardon me, Your Majesties. But this came for the Queen, and I was instructed by Mrs. Geaneaux to deliver it to you.” the attendant said as he set the box down. 

“Thank you very much,” Shanelle replied with a smile.

“You're very Welcome, my Queen.” the attendant replied before he walked out. 

Marquise looked at the box with an eyebrow raised. 

“Now what could this be?” he asked as he reached for the box.

“Quit being nosy! It's addressed to me. Not you, Your Majesty.” Shanelle replied as she swatted his hand away.

“First of all, ow! That was uncalled for! Secondly, it's in my palace.”

“Our palace sir.” Shanelle corrected him.

Marquise shook his head with a smirk.

“Okay fine. It's our palace. Now, what's in the box?”

“What do you care?” she asked. 

“Call it curiosity killing my cat,” he replied. 

Shanelle rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she read the shipping label on the box.

“Ahh. This must be one of the boxes I had when I moved back to Boston. The shipping label is covering what it says is inside it.”

“What's in it?” he asks.

“Nosy ass!” she replied.

“Very. Now let's open this box.”

Shanelle took a letter opener out of her desk and opened the box. In it were several old photos, old birthday cards, her old diary, her high school yearbooks, and one item she had completely forgotten she had packed. 

“Why do you have a jacket in this box?” Marquise asks as he peered inside.

“It's not mine,” she replied as she glanced at it.

“Okay, then whose jacket is it?” 

“This is Cass’s letter jacket that he got our senior year.” 

“Why do you still have his old letter jacket and why does it smell like mothballs?” he asks. 

“Because he left it at my parent's house and never came to get it before I moved. I must've packed it out of habit.”

Shanelle saw the look on her husband's face and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You're not jealous are you, Your Majesty?” she asked teasingly.

“Hardly,” he replied. 

“Liar.”

Marquise gave her a side-eye.

“I'm not lying.” 

“Marquise, the same way I know when Cass is lying is the same way I know when you’re lying. You two dumbasses wear your jealousy, annoyance, and anger on your sleeves.”

Marquise had a disgusted look on his face. 

“Did you just compare me to your ex?” he asked. 

Shanelle shrugged with a smirk.

“I can not believe that you just compared me to him.”

“Not my fault you and him are two sides of the same idiot coin.”

“I don't have to stand here and take this slander from you! I'm a King dammit!”

“You forget how easily I can read people. Especially the two of you.”

“You dare insult your King?!” he asked in mocking disgust.

Shanelle winked at her husband.

“Yes, I dare to insult my King,” she replied with a smirk that matched his.

“That's it! I'm leaving! I will not just stand around and be insulted like this!”

Shanelle shook her head with a smile.

“See you later babe.”

“I'll see you later, my love.”

With a quick yet sweet kiss, Marquise was out the door. Leaving Shanelle to reminisce about her past life. Before she had kids, King, and a kingdom to call home.

As a kid growing up in Brooklyn, life was as simple as it gets for Shanelle. Her dad worked at the United Nations as Ambassador of Cordonia and her mother was a 5th-grade teacher at the time. She had her best friends Nina and Chutney. The three amigos. They were always together. Always running every classroom they were in together. Especially her mother’s 5th-grade class. Try as Shantel might, she couldn't separate the girls. 

And then there was Cassian. He was her childhood sweetheart and she was his. They had been together for as long as she had known him and his twin sister. When her grandfather died, Cass was there. When she needed him, he was always there. Whether or not he liked getting bossed around by her was another story. Like the one time, they went to the movies.

“How much farther?” he asked her over his shoulder.

“Just a few more steps. Stop complaining,” she replied.

“My arms are getting tired, Princess.”

“Well, that's what you get for having pseudo-chivalry.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means you don't want me to carry anything because according to you, the guy in the relationship never lets the girl in the relationship carry anything, just for you to turn around and constantly complain about having to always carry everything,” she replied

“Okay, if I drop all this stuff because my arms fell off.”

“Cass, if you drop damn near 28 dollars worth of popcorn, candy, chili cheese dogs, drinks, and those nasty ass Coney corn dogs that you love so much, that I paid for, I will kick your ass from here to kingdom come.” 

Cass grumbled under his breath but kept walking down the steps to their seats. 

“Stop and turn to the right,” she said to him.

He stopped and turned to the right. 

“Keep walking…and stop,” she instructed.

He walked 5 steps and then stopped.

“Now you can sit down.”

“Finally,” he said as he sat down slowly.

“Exactly. Now if you'd be so kind as to hand me my food.”

She took her chili cheese dogs, a box of M&M's, her drink, and a small popcorn and sat down. Cass looked over.

“Greedy ass.” 

Shanelle set her drink down.

“You get three loaded corn dogs, two boxes of Peanut M&M's, one box of plain M&M's, a large Coke, and two boxes of Reese's Pieces on top of the large popcorn with extra butter and salt. But I'm the greedy one?” she asked.

“Yes. That’s way too many calories.” He replied.

“Hotshot, you’re literally eating your way to clogged arteries and type 2 diabetes. Also, you forget I have track practice after we leave here. So unlike you, I will burn these calories off.” 

“Still too many calories, Princess.”

Just as Shanelle started to speak up the previews started. 

“Saved by the previews,” Cass said triumphantly.

Shanelle rolled her eyes and went back to eating her food. Only to feel his arm around her shoulders. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Wanna bite?” she asked him, holding up the chili cheese dog in her hand. 

“Nah. I'm good. Thank you. By the way, what time is your track meet next Saturday?” he replied.

“1:00 PM. But I have to be there at 10:00 AM. Coach Howard’s orders.”

Cass scoffed.

“I still don't like her.”

Shanelle snickered.

“That's only because she said you have chicken legs. And she wasn't wrong.”

“Who's side are you on?” he asked. 

“Mine,” she replied. 

Cass rolled his eyes with a smile.

They were together all through middle and high school. Made plans to be together forever. Even though he had objections to always being bossed around by her. After graduating, each went off to different colleges. It was a long-distance relationship but they vowed to make it work. And it did work until it didn't. 

They went from texting and checking in with each other every day. To once a day, to once a week, to sparingly, to complete radio silence throughout her freshman and sophomore years. And Shanelle couldn't figure out why. No matter how many times she texted or called, he never answered. So she decided to drive to see him at school. She had to know why he wouldn't talk to her. 

After texting his then-classmate Robin, she hopped into her Jeep and drove 5 hours from Boston to Philadelphia to see him. When she pulled into the dorm parking lot, she met Robin outside.

“Hey, babe. Are you sure you’re okay?” Robin asked Shanelle.

“I will be once I talk to him. Have you seen him?” Shanelle replied.

Robin scoffed. 

“Not lately. The knucklehead has been avoiding me.”

Shanelle shook her head. 

“Probably because of me.”

“If that's true, I am gonna beat him within an inch of his life.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“You get whatever part of him that I don't beat, break, batter, or bruise.” 

Robin nodded.

“He always said that you have a scary right hook.”

“And if he doesn't answer the door, you'll get a front-row seat to what happens.”

They walked into the coed dorm. When they got outside his dorm, Shanelle started to wonder if this was the right thing to do.

“Rob, can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied.

“Am I tripping? Should I even be here?” she asked.

“No, you’re not tripping and yes you should be here. You have tried to contact him every which way. And he's just been silent. At the very least he could explain why he's been silent. He owes you that.”

Shanelle closed her eyes and nodded.

“You're right. Thank you. That's why I like you. Well, that and the fact that since I'm not here to get on his ass, someone has to.”

“Thank you. And to think your man was scared for us to meet. And now he hates it that we met.”

Shanelle snickered.

“That's because we became friends and his worst nightmare.”

Just as Shanelle went to knock on the door, it swung open revealing a shocked and shirtless Cassian. 

“What are you doing here Shanelle?” He asks. 

“I came here looking for you. You haven't been answering the phone and apparently, you've been avoiding Robin. What is going on?” she replied.

“You shouldn't be here, Shanelle,” he said to her. 

She turned to Robin. 

“Give us a minute?” she asked.

“Sure. I gotta get ready for my next class anyway.” Robin replied. 

“Okay. I'll text you later.” 

Robin smiled at Shanelle before walking down the hall to her dorm. Shanelle watched her disappear around a corner before turning back to Cass.

“Go home, Princess. Now.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“I can't.”

“The hell you mean you can't?!” she asks him.

“Look, you just gotta go,” he replied.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“This is not the time for you to be stubborn!”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“Pot meet kettle.”

“Shanelle please, just go. It's over. There's nothing left.”

“Cass, what are you talking about?” she asked.

“Us, Shanelle. There is no more us,” he replied.

“No. You're not serious.”

“Yeah. I'm serious. It's over between us. Go home.”

Shanelle was stunned. 

“What is happening?” she asked.

“I have to do this. I have to let you go. So go. It's over. There is no more us.” he replies.

“Cass, why are you doing this?” she asks.

“I can't tell you,” he replied.

“What the hell do you mean?” she asks.

“I can't tell you and I'm not going to tell you. So go home!” he growled. 

Shanelle took a step back from him. She couldn't believe what was happening. It was over.

“Wow. Okay then. I guess that's it. I got the answer to the question I had.” 

“I'm sorry, Shanelle. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that.”

“No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that all I wanted was to get some kind of an answer. I'm sorry that the only place I was ever going to get that answer was from you. I'm sorry that I drove 5 fucking hours for those very answers. I'm sorry that I came all the way here with the hope that if I could've just talked to you and gotten to the bottom of the problem then maybe we could've fixed whatever the issue was between us. I'm sorry that I came all the way here for nothing.”

Shanelle closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling.

“Look Princess, I'm sorry.”

“You know. I always knew you were a lot of things, Cass. But never in my life did I think that you, of all the people in this world, would be a coward.”

“That's not fair Shanelle.”

“Oh! So you wanna talk about what's fair and what isn't?! Okay fine. Let's talk about it, shall we? So it's fair for you to break up with me without at least giving me the common courtesy and decency of telling me why, right? But it's not fair for me to call you a coward? Did I get that right?”

Cass just shook his head. 

“Alright then. I guess I got what I came here for and now I can go.” Shanelle said to him with tears in her eyes.

“Shanelle, you can't drive back to Boston like this.”

She scoffed.

“Why the hell do you care, Cass? It's over between us, remember?” she said to him before walking out of the dorm. 

Shanelle got in her Jeep and peeled out of the dorm parking lot without a second glance back. She got to a stoplight before tears blurred her vision and she couldn't see clearly enough to drive. So she pulled over into a grocery store parking lot, killed the engine, and broke down into tears. It was over. And there was no going back. There was no more pleading for answers. The only thing she could do was pick up the pieces of her broken heart, move on, and move forward. 

Two weeks later after her abrupt breakup, Shanelle started taking classes at a local MMA gym. It was a way for her to channel her anger, learn self-defense, and ease her heartbreak. She spent the next two years, which was also the remainder of her college years going to that gym. She would be in the gym 3 times a week. But little did she know, she was being watched. 

Every day she was at the gym, she would notice three guys always watching her. But she put it out of her mind. What she didn’t know was those three random guys were actually guards the Prince had assigned to follow her and keep tabs on her whereabouts. Within a few days, the guards had her routine down to a science. They knew when she was on campus, where she went for coffee and for lunch, how she trained at the gym, and things like that. Whatever the Prince wanted to know about her, his guards found out. 

He had the guards set up a secret feed at the gym through its shoddy security system so he could watch her train in the gym. He was impressed with how good she was. He knew he would one day want to spar with her, so he began to study her fighting style with his lead guard Alex. 

“She's good Marquise,” Alex said to him. 

“Indeed. That's why we're practicing. I want her to be great. Not just good.”

“From what I've noticed, she's become a master at the chokehold and the armbar. Are you sure you'd want to spar with her?” Alex asked. 

“Yes. By practicing I can learn how to counter her.” Marquise replied.

“Won't that just piss her off even more?” Alex asked.

“That's the point, Alex. The angrier she is, the more adrenaline. She's a fighter who's highly competitive and hates to lose. Now shall we get started?” Marquise asks. 

“Sure. Although she and I are in different weight classes.” Alex replied.

“You'll be alright. This isn't the first time that I've tossed your sorry ass around like a rag doll and it won't be the last time that I've tossed your sorry ass around like a rag doll.”

The two smirked at each other before they began to train. Within 3 weeks, Marquise had her fighting style down and knew how to counter every move in her move set. All while she was none the wiser. 

Meanwhile, Shanelle had another problem that had nothing to do with the Prince but everything to do with her best friend Nina, who had been kidnapped by her abusive ex. It had been 3 months since anyone had heard from Nina, but it didn't take long for her family and friends to realize why. Nina’s ex Slater had kidnapped her and had no plans of ever letting her see the light of day until Nina escaped and was able to make it home. 

Shanelle had come home for Memorial Day weekend and was asleep when her phone started going off. It was Chutney.

“Helluh?” Shanelle answered half asleep.

“Wake up Nelle!” Chutney shouted. Causing Shanelle to bolt straight up in bed.

“What the hell Chut?” Shanelle asked, trying to get her bearings before turning on the bedside light in her room. “Why are you calling at…2 in the morning?”

“It's Nina,” Chutney replied. 

Hearing Nina’s name sent a chill down Shanelle’s spine and she began to fear the worst.

“What about her Chut?” Shanelle asked.

“She's alive! I'm with her now.” Chutney replied. 

“What?! What do you mean she's alive?!” Shanelle asked.

“She showed up at the hospital and they called me,” Chutney answered.

“What hospital?” Shanelle asks.

“Mercy Hospital.” 

Shanelle looked at the time on her phone and made a decision.

“Chut I'm on my way. Do NOT let her leave! Do you hear me?!”

“Yes, I hear you. Just hurry.” 

Shanelle threw on some clothes, grabbed her keys, and nearly broke the sound barrier trying to get to the hospital. She had just gotten into the hospital lobby when she saw Chutney. 

“Where is she, Chut?” Shanelle asks.

“Down the hall. ER room 7. I was able to get her to get some sleep.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Go call your uncle. Tell him she's here and that she's alive.”

“Okay.”

Shanelle hugged Chutney who was shaking.

“It's okay babe. She's home. That's all that matters.”

“I know. I just…she's so scared Nelle.”

“I believe it. As I said, go call your uncle. I'm gonna go talk to her.”

Chutney nodded before going to call Nina’s dad. Shanelle walked down the hall as fast as she could until she got to Nina’s room. When she got there, her heart seized. Nina was alive and asleep at the moment. Shanelle was relieved, terrified, and angry. All at the same time. 

“Nina?” Shanelle asked gently, rousing her from her sleep. Nina slowly woke up and looked sleepily at Shanelle.

“Nelle?” she asked.

“I'm here baby. I'm right here.” Shanelle replied while gently squeezing her hand.

Nina bursts into tears before she threw her arms around Shanelle. 

“I am so happy to see you, baby.”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Shanelle hugged her tighter.

“Don't you dare apologize. This wasn't your fault. This is that monster’s fault.”

Nina buried her face into Shanelle’s shoulder and cried. 

“I messed up.”

“No one is mad at you Nina. Certainly not me. I just wanted you home and safe.”

Shanelle rocked her best friend as she cried. 

“I trusted him. And he…”

“Shhh! Baby. You don't have to tell me.”

Nina looked at Shanelle before rolling up her sleeve. Revealing needle marks much to Shanelle’s horror.

“Oh my God.”

“The hospital gave me Narcan.”

Shanelle nodded slowly.

“Do you think you can answer a question for me?” she asked Nina.

Nina nodded.

“Are you going through withdrawals?” she asked her.

Rather than answer Nina just clung to Shanelle.

“My God. I'm so sorry.”

“I said no. I tried to stop him. But he forced me. I tried–”

“Shhh! It's okay babe. You do not need to tell me anything more if you're not ready. Okay?”

Nina nodded. 

“But you need help. You need to get into rehab.”

“No. Shanelle no.”

“Listen to me. The Narcan the hospital gave you will only last for so long. I don't want to see you like this.”

“I can't afford rehab, Nelle. I can't.”

“You won't have to. I'll pay for it.”

“What?! No. I won't let you.”

Shanelle smiled at Nina with tears in her eyes.

“Try and stop me. I will do whatever I have to in order to get you the help you need.”

“You would?” Nina asks.

“Absofuckinglutely!” Shanelle replies.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes. Whatever the costs are, I will pay for them. I don’t care.” Shanelle replied. 

“Okay. I'll go. But you can't tell anyone. Please.”

“I swear to you. I won't tell a soul. It'll be our secret.”

Nina nodded tearily.

“Thank you.”

“It's what best friends are for. We stick together through thick and thin. I got your back. You got mine. Remember?”

Nina nodded just as Chutney returned.

“Nina, your parents and your brothers are here.” Chutney said to the girls. 

“And that's my cue,” Shanelle said.

“You're leaving?” Nina asks.

“Yeah. I don't want to be around your brother right now.” Shanelle replied. 

“Okay.”

Shanelle hugged Nina tightly.

“But I promise. I will come to check on you later. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Shanelle stood up and dried her eyes.

“You call me whenever you need me, alright?”

Nina smiled at her. 

“I love you, Princess.”

“I love you too baby. I'll see you soon.”

Shanelle hugged Chutney just as Nina's family showed up. 

“Thank you for calling me,” she whispered to Chutney.

“Of course. We're the three amigos, remember? We always look out for each other.” 

Shanelle walked down the hall walking past Cassian without so much as a second glance. Within a few days, Shanelle had Nina with her in D.C. and they were getting her settled into the rehab facility.

“Now you have my number, right?” Shanelle asked Nina.

“Yes, mom. I have your number.”

Shanelle snickered. 

“If I want to deal with your sarcasm, I'll call your brother.”

The two laughed. 

“I'll call you if I need anything.”

“Okay. I'm an hour away. Well, 30-45 minutes if I don't do the speed limit.”

Nina snorted before shaking her head.

“Get some rest, love.”

“Will do.”

A week after getting Nina settled, Shanelle was sitting on her couch flipping channels, when she got a surprise late-night FaceTime call from the Prince himself. 

“Hello?”

“Well hello, Princess.”

“Good Evening Your Majesty.”

“It's Your Highness, love,” he replied, correcting her. 

“Your Highness, what can I do for you?” she asks.

“I'll get right to it. Have you spoken to your father?” he asked.

“No. Not today anyway. Why?” she replied.

“Well because of a curious thing. Did you know he wrote a check for nearly $10,000.00?” he asks.

“No. I had no clue,” she replied.

“Are you sure, Princess?” he asks.

“Your Highness, why would I know anything about the checks he writes?” she replied.

“Because you see the thing is, he didn't write a check for nearly $10,000.00. And neither did your mother.”

Shanelle went quiet. She was busted. 

“Princess, why are you writing checks in your father's name?” he asks. 

She cursed under her breath.

“I had to. It was an emergency,” she replied. 

“A $10,000.00 emergency?” he asks.

“Yes. How did you figure out he didn't write the check?” she replied.

“I'm glad you asked. It was quite easy actually, had he written it, he would've never gone over the international limit of $5,000.00. It's not his style. Not without alerting the Royal Treasury. But you on the other hand.”

Shanelle groaned.

“Also there's a hold on the check until it gets cleared by the Treasury.”

“What do you mean there's a hold on the check?” she asked.

“Every time a check is written over the allotted amount, a 7-day hold is placed on said check. It's standard procedure,” he replies.

“Would it be too much to ask for you to go ahead and clear the check?” she asked.

“It must be important to you,” he replied.

“It is. I need it cleared immediately. Please.”

The look on his face was unreadable and when he switched his camera off, Shanelle started to panic.

“Done.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, Princess. It's been cleared,” he replies.

She let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Marquise.”

“You're welcome. Now I want you to listen to me and listen closely. Don't you ever write a check for that big of an amount without telling me first.”

“Why? What's the big deal?” she asked.

“The big deal is if I hadn't caught it and cleared the check you wrote in time, bad case it would've had to go to my father or worse case it would've gone to your uncle for clearance,” he replied. 

The thought of having to deal with either one of them made Shanelle shudder.

“Exactly. So next time, if there is one, you are to let me know the minute you write the check. Do you understand?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied quietly.

“Listen, I'm not trying to scare you or reprimand you. I just know that my father and your uncle would've instantly rejected the check.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Again, thank you.”

“Of course. It is a curious thing though. What's so important that you had to write a check that big?” he asks.

“I can't tell you,” she replied.

“Must be serious.”

“The check didn't say?” she asked.

“No. It just shows me the check number, the amount written, and the routing numbers of the Treasury and the bank requesting that the hold be lifted.” 

Shanelle internally sighed in relief.

“In other news, you look beautiful.”

“I look homeless.” 

Marquise groaned. 

“Just take the damn compliment, Princess.”

She broke out in a small smile.

“There's that pretty smile. Much better. That's what I like to see.”

“I've never seen you be all business-like. It's kinda hot.”

“Of course, you like it. You like it when someone else takes control. That way you can be as reckless as you want to be.”

Shanelle tried and failed to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Long and arduous. How was yours?” she replied.

“Boring. Budgets, Cordonian tax laws and guidelines, and more budgets.” 

“Oh, you poor thing. Are you at your Duchy?” she asked.

“No. I'm in my office at the palace,” he replied.

She grimaced.

“You sound thrilled.”

“Oh yeah. Positively enthralled.”

Shanelle snorted.

“Are you off the clock?” she asked.

“I've been off the clock for three hours now. I just had a few loose ends to tie up,” he replied.

“I didn't mean to keep you up so late.”

He waved her off. 

“You weren't.”

“So you say.”

He smirked at her.

“I'm actually on my way to bed now that business is done. It's a shame you won't be there when I get there.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“Oh my God! You're not even subtle.”

“I don't have the time or luxury to be.”

Shanelle shook her head.

“I know I'm going to regret this but hypothetically speaking, what would you do if I was there?” she asked.

Marquise cocked his head to the side with a smirk.

“Curious are you?” he replies.

“Morbidly.”

Marquise put a finger to his lips with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Let's see. Well for starters you wouldn't be wearing any clothes.”

“You pig!” she hissed.

“I'll be Wilbur if you be Charlotte.”

“Ugh! You are so fucking irritating.”

The smirk on his face made her thankful she was sitting down.

“Okay fine. So you wouldn't be completely naked. Is that better?” he asked.

“Much. Now continue. Correctly.” she replied.

“To be honest, you'd either already be asleep, laying across the bed flipping channels like you are now, or you'd be out on the balcony with a glass of wine watching the stars.”

“Not bad. And nowhere near as disrespectful as I thought you'd be. Also, I didn't know your room had a balcony.”

“Every room in my wing has a balcony.”

“You have an entire wing?!” she asked.

“Mmmhmm. 12 bedrooms all to myself. At least for now,” he replied.

“And here I am thinking that I'm a spoiled brat.”

“You are a spoiled brat Princess.” he quipped. 

Shanelle shook her head. 

“So let's say I was out on your balcony, what would you be doing?” she asks. 

“Your curiosity must be killing you,” he replied.

“Humor me.”

“Very well. As you may know, I am a servant of the people. But none more than you, my future wife. I would always want you to be comfortable. No matter what. And nothing is more comfortable than a couples’ bubble bath.”

“Oh really?” she asks. 

“Mmmhmm. It would help me forget my day and would give me a reason to put my hands all over you. If you know what I mean.”

Shanelle couldn't help but blush. And he noticed. 

“It's okay to say you like the idea, Princess.”

“Okay fine. So I like the idea. I love bubble baths and as much as I hate to admit it, you are good with your hands.”

“There you go. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?” he asks.

“Get off my phone!” she replied with a smirk.

He smirked.

“Goodnight Shanelle. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Goodnight Marquise.”

When she hung up the phone she couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach. She turned off the TV and went to bed. When her head hit the pillow, she dozed off dreaming she was falling asleep in the Prince’s arms. 

As the months went on, Shanelle watched her best friend flourish and become herself again in rehab then eventually move back home to New York while she stayed in D.C. Shanelle also found herself more and more enamored with the Prince. He would text and call her every day. He would have a dozen roses sent to her office every Friday. He was starting to wear her down. Not that she minded. 

And it showed in one of their nightly FaceTime calls.

“So how did your parents meet?” he asks.

“My mom got a summer internship at the United Nations and would ride the elevator with my dad every day. She worked on the floor below him. And one day he finally mustered up the courage to ask Shantel Fletcher out on a date.” she replies.

“Your father has courage?” he asked.

Shanelle snickered.

“Yes, every here and again he does,” she replies.

“How long did this go on?” he asks.

“Maybe 3 weeks? They would go out for lunch every day until her internship ended and she had to go back to D.C.” she replied.

“And he chased her?” he asks.

“Yup. He transferred his assignment to the Consulate,” she replied.

“Talk about dedication.”

“He was in love. When mom found out she called him and told him to go home but he stayed. And they started dating again and then got married.” 

“He got married and didn't tell his parents?” he asked.

“Yup. They got married at the D.C. magistrate with her parents as witnesses,” she replies.

“When was this?” he asked.

“June 1st, 1986,” she replied. 

“That's a long time to be married to your dad.”

“She loves him. Someone has to.”

“Did you ever meet his parents?” he asks.

“Yes. The first time I ever went to Cordonia was because of them. It's how I was granted my title.” she replies.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yup. I actually met them by accident,” she replies.

“How'd that happen?” he asks.

“My parents had barely been married a year and a half when my mom got pregnant. She was excited while my dad was apprehensive,” she replies.

“Why?” he asked. 

“Because he was sent to America to work for Cordonia, not get married and have a kid,” she replied.

Marquise nodded.

“I met them after the betrothal agreement was signed.”

“How old were you?” he asked.

“I was 10 months old. As I said before, I met them by accident,” she replies.

“How?” he asks.

“My dad had gone to the store for milk and eggs and more baby food. While my mom stayed and worked on her thesis paper,” she replies.

“Where were you?” 

“I was in my room sleeping. It was naptime for me.”

“Where did you all live? Embassy Row?” 

“Nope. We lived here at the apartment where I am now at the Consulate.”

“So what happened?”

“As I said, my dad was gone and it was just me and my mom. It was a pretty typical Saturday. Until there was a knock at the front door. My mom went to open the door and when she did there stood my grandparents.”

“Awkward…” 

“Very. According to my mom, they stared at her and she stared back at them until my grandfather asked her who she was. That's when it clicked that mommy was staring at her in-laws.”

“Yikes!”

“Oh, it gets better. So when my mom realized who they were, she said ‘you must be Damien’s parents’.”

“Wait! She addressed the former Iron King of South Cordonia like a common parent?” Marquise asked with a cackle.

“Yup. And that's when my grandfather said,  ‘young lady my name is King Dominic Miller. And this is my wife Queen Angelique. And we're here to see our son Prince Damien. Thank you’, according to her.”

“Well did she let them in or make them stand there?”

“I'm getting to that! Of course, she let them in. She had to move some of her papers and books out of the way first before they could sit down. And about 10 minutes after my grandparents arrived, my dad showed up carrying grocery bags. Much to his mother’s horror.”

“Oh. My. God!”

“You see, the former King and Queen didn't inform their youngest son they were coming. Based on a suggestion made by their eldest son.”

“Your uncle didn't tell them about you and your mom?” he asks.

“Nope. He thought it best they find out about us on their own,” she replies.

“So he set your father up?” he asked.

“Yup. They wanted to surprise him and boy did he get a surprise. And so did they,” she replies.

“Wow!”

“Just wait. I'm just getting to the good part. When my dad walked in, my mom looked at him and was like ‘when were you gonna tell me your parents were coming?’ to which my poor dumb daddy goes ‘I couldn't tell you because I had no idea they were coming.’”

Marquise cackled. 

“So after my dad set the groceries down, my grandfather asked him who this common woman was, meaning my mom, and why was she there. And just as my mom got ready to respond, guess who woke up from their nap and was very fussy.”

“Uh oh!”

“Yeah. So my mom disappeared into my room and when she reemerged, she had me on her hip. My grandparents were stunned.”

Marquise stared at her.

“That's when my dad took me from my mom and turned to his parents and said ‘Father, mother, this is Shantel. My wife of two years. And this beautiful little girl is Shanelle. Our daughter. Your granddaughter.’ and as I said, his parents were stunned.” 

“You know your grandfather had a reputation for being everything but quiet right?” he asks.

“That's what I've heard about him,” she replied.

“So what else happened?”

“After several minutes of my dad’s parents being in shock, his mother finally spoke up and asked if she could hold me. And he placed me in her arms. Which was a miracle, because when I was a baby, I didn't like being held by anyone except my parents and my grandma Venita. Apparently, my grandmother had this diamond brooch on her jacket lapel that I kept reaching for, and she took it off and gave it to me to hold. And that was the first time I had ever smiled at her.” 

“Wow.”

“Apparently, I looked over at my grandfather and crawled into his lap and was giggling and waving my grandmother's brooch around. And according to my dad, that was the moment I melted my grandfather's heart.”

“Wow!”

Shanelle shrugged.

“I am their oldest grandchild after all. Anyways, after watching me play in my grandfather's arms, my grandmother asked my dad why he didn't tell them about me and my mom sooner.”

“What did he say?” 

“He was honest. He said he just knew that if he showed up with my mom and me, they would reject his new family and disown him. And he couldn't take the risk of losing his family. Besides, he didn't want me to grow up in the palace. He wanted me to have as normal of a life as possible.” 

Marquise nodded.

“So your dad does have a backbone?”

Shanelle snickered.

“I mean it's flimsy but yes, he has one.”

“What did your grandfather say to all that?” he asks.

“He was furious with my dad. According to my mom, he said he still should have been told that he had a granddaughter. And he was hurt and disappointed that my dad would think that they'd disown him. Because at that time, I was the oldest living child in the family, that meant that I would be the new heir to the throne.” 

“You?” he asked.

“Yup. Me. Because you have to remember, Edward was not married and had no children. Which meant that if he died after taking the throne, South Cordonia would be without a Monarch. But because my dad had me…” she trailed off.

Marquise nodded.

“South Cordonia would have their Monarch.”

“Bingo! But that's not why he didn't tell them.”

“Why didn't he say anything?” he asked.

“He was afraid that something called a Coventus Nobilis would be called?”

Marquise whistled low.

“Yikes! No wonder he was afraid.”

“But why? What is a Coventus Nobilis?” she asks.

Marquise sighed.

“It's an old and antiquated law that dates back to when the 7 Great Houses Of Cordonia were the ruling body of all Cordonia,” he replied.

“What does that mean?” 

“A Coventus Nobilis is a vote of no confidence.”

“No confidence in what?”

“If the safety and upbringing of a Royal heir is ever called into question by a Head Of House, a Coventus Nobilis can be convened to address the matter. And a vote of no confidence must be unanimously approved.”

“You're not making any sense.”

“Had a vote of no confidence been reached, your parents would've been stripped of custody of you.”

“WHAT?!”

“As I said, it's an old and antiquated law. It hasn't been called upon since at least the 1600s.”

“Can it be changed?” she asked.

“Nope. All Monarchs are forbidden from ever touching the law. That's what your father was really afraid of. And that's probably why he agreed to the betrothal agreement. It protected you in case your grandfather had the law called upon as King and tried to have you taken away from your parents.” he replied. 

“He wouldn't have done that.”

“Shanelle, your grandfather was notoriously known as the Iron King. I'll let you figure out the rest.”

Shanelle exhaled slowly.

“Well, that explains why my grandfather extended his retirement by at least a year.”

“I remember that. Kinda.”

“Yeah, he extended it so I could have my coronation when I was 18 months old. That was the first time I had ever traveled to Cordonia. And it was on Easter Sunday so I had on my Easter Sunday dress with bows, barrettes, and those white shoes with frilly white socks. And because I was granted a title, my mom was too.”

“I'm sure. Your grandfather had to grant her a title. She was the Mother Of The Heir at the time.”

“But all I cared about that day was eating my first ever sugarcake. It was my grandmother's favorite too. That's why I love it so much. It came from her favorite bakery in Gianko.”

“I know that bakery. They make amazing Paninis.”

“Of course, you know it. You live there.”

Marquise smirked.

“I don’t remember much about it but, one of the last things my grandparents did with me before they died was they commissioned two portraits. An official Royal portrait of me with my parents and a portrait of me with the two of them.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yup. Daddy is actually in Cordonia now. He always goes back for a month to lay flowers at his parent's graves. That and to bring me back a box of sugarcakes. Anyway, according to my dad, he hasn't seen those portraits in years. He thinks Edward may have gotten rid of them after their parents died.” she replies.

“Nah. He didn't. I can assure you of that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because it's illegal to do so. Instead, he would've had to turn them over to the Cordonian Hall Of Archives.”

“Oh.”

Marquise noticed she was biting her lower lip.

“Shanelle?” 

She let her bottom lip slip from in between her teeth.

“Huh?”

“You're biting your lip.”

“So?”

Marquise shook his head with a smirk.

“You only do that when you're scared to ask a question.”

She went quiet.

“Is there something that you want?” he asks.

She nodded her head yes.

“What is it, Princess? What do you want?” 

“Will you look in the Archives for the portraits?” she asked.

“I mean of course I can. But why would I do that when it serves me no purpose?” he replies.

“You're gonna make me explain why I want you to look aren't you?” she asked.

“Naturally,” he replies. 

Shanelle whined.

“My dad’s birthday is coming up and I want to be able to give him something special when he comes home. Also, I would love to have something to remember my grandparents by.”

“Very good. So you can be taught, I see.”

“Don't make me regret asking.”

“You won't. I'll put the call in to have them retrieved and sent to you before he leaves here. Shall I have them gift-wrapped as well?”

Shanelle snickered.

“I know you’re being funny but yes, I would like it if you could have them wrapped.”

“Consider it done.”

She smiled before hiding a yawn.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don't be. You should go get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Goodnight Your Highness.”

“Goodnight my future wife,” he replied with a smirk.

Shanelle rolled her eyes before ending the call. 

Sure enough, the portraits arrived a few weeks later gift-wrapped and in pristine condition. They arrived two days before she moved back home to New York just in time for her father's birthday. When she moved back in with her parents she had the portraits stored in the attic. 

Being home felt good and weird at the same time. She had her job working for her dad's office at the United Nations. She had her friends who were happy to have her home for more girls' nights and gossip. She even had endless other suitors that were interested in her. Each suitor was wealthy, connected, and powerful. But none of them were as wealthy, connected, or powerful as the Prince. 

Also, most of them were boring, stuck up, narcissistic, stuffy, and stiff. They were perfect for someone that didn't want anything out of life. Not her. She wasn't trying to be some diplomat’s smiling trophy. And at the end of the day, that's what she would be with those other men. So she skipped them and stuck with the one man that wouldn't turn her into the black version of a Stepford Wife. The Prince. 

You have reached the end of part 1! Stay tuned for the next part!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

journey, m | ot7

full title: journey to the dick

pairing(s): ot7 x reader

summary: A Cinderella story but it's a dick pic. Yup, that's right. You find a dick pic on your phone and make it your mission to find the owner of said dick. Time to fuck the seven hottest guys you know! Onwards!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of alcohol consumption / partying; horny crack, everyone radiates chaotic energy and wants to fuck; reader is comparing their dicks to above-mentioned dick pic so there's a lot of talk about dick, did I mention there's a lot of dick? dick; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics in some scenes, m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking, handjob, thigh fucking, dance studio sex, overstimulation, fingering, dry humping, 69, face-sitting, photography during sex, m-masturbation, being cummed on (neck / chest [a cum necklace LMAO] + hand), film studio sex, wall-fucking, being overheard / walked in on during sex (and not giving a shit, oops), implied car sex, implied threesome); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader; each member has their own scene

appearances based on the 'Butter' jacket photoshoots yes, the opening line is #50 of my prompt list LMAO title comes from Journey to the West, except it's dick because that's way more important. also, yeah, this is basically a harem hentai, but it's you and BTS, woohoo! :D

--

"Whose dick pic is this and why it is so inspirational?"

Park Jimin craned his head over to look at your phone, black hair brushing against your forehead. "Damn! That is an incredible dick."

"What are you guys talking about?" Kim Taehyung muttered, yanking your phone out of your hand and peering at the screen. His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up into his dark brown hair. "Oh, ho! What a high-quality specimen of a dick."

"Why is it on my phone though?" you frowned, taking your phone back from Taehyung. You were sitting next to Jimin on their sofa, contemplating the great mysteries of the world. The black phone case had a cute mouse holding a large sewing needle and sitting next to a spool of sky-blue thread. "I didn't take this one, sadly."

"Maybe you were real drunk," Jimin offered.

"I haven't been real drunk since I projectile vomited in your guys' parking lot."

"That was last week," Taehyung reminded you, smiling amusedly.

You narrowed your eyes. "Look, it was a bad breakup."

"You went on, like, two dates," Jimin laughed, smacking you in the arm.

"It had potential!"

"Yeah, a potential dumpster fire," Taehyung added, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the other side of you. "I know you go for the quiet, nerdy ones, but you're just–"

"Brash? Forward? Ready to sit on dick at any second?"

Jimin was being very helpful.

Taehyung shoved Jimin's grinning face away. "It's a conflict of personality and yours is quite intense, so maybe you should try and be more open-minded about other options."

You frowned, not enjoying this pep talk that you probably needed. In fact, you avoided said pep talk at all costs. You reached back and yanked on Taehyung's ponytail. He prodded you in the left breast in response, glaring. You smacked his hand. He smacked your hand back.

Hey, when you don't have a good reply, resort to violence, right?

You looked back down at your phone. Swollen, red-purple, a good thickness. Nice length too, so hard it was sticking up without the assistance of a hand. You could spy the white pre-cum beading at the engorged tip. It was a strangely clear and well-composed photo. Black boxer briefs. Blue jeans, white shirt.

Fuck.

Could literally be any guy in the history of existence.

You turned the photo to Jimin. "Someone must have taken it last night when I couldn't find my phone for those two hours."

Jimin nodded. "Yeah, seems like it."

"You remember anyone in this outfit?"

Jimin snorted, wrinkling his cute nose. "Everyone was in jeans and a white t-shirt. 'Cause there was that wet t-shirt contest later that night, remember?"

You scratched your head. Ah, yes. Taehyung won. Man looked fucking amazing thanks to working out his arms and chest the past month. Was it solely for the purpose of a silly party gimmick? Maybe. You weren’t complaining though. You did what any good friend would do.

"Oh, right. Who won?"

Taehyung grabbed your shoulders and violently shook you. "I did! Obviously – ah, fuck you!" His tone quickly changed when he realized you were laughing like a maniac, doubling over in a pile of giggles with Jimin. "You're the worst," Taehyung pouted, holding his arms protectively.

"I'm just kidding, don't be mad," you chuckled, reaching over to hug him. He accepted it, but not without continuing to pout. You nuzzled his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin. "I bought you your favorite breakfast when you were hung over this morning, come on now."

His dark brown eyes shifted back and forth before letting out a long, deep sigh and hugging you back. Damn. He had a nice hug now thanks to these arms and his broad chest. He smelled like warm chamomile.

"I worked hard for these," he mumbled.

You patted him on the back before releasing him and holding up your phone. Back to the first order of business.

"Is this your dick?"

Taehyung scrunched up his face. "No? But I don't look at my dick at that angle either."

You puffed your cheeks and turned to Jimin.

"Is this your dick?"

Jimin plucked your phone from your hand. He tilted his head to one side. Then the other.

"Lemme check."

Then he stood up and started walking to the direction of the bathroom. Still holding your device.

"Uh..."

You trailed off.

Taehyung blinked.

The bathroom door closed.

Pants unzipped.

"PARK JIMIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

-

"You have to be kidding me, Jimin."

"Be reasonable. I can't get hard from this dick pic. Don't you want to know the owner of said dick?"

You pursed your lips and squinted at your phone, standing in Park Jimin's and Kim Taehyung's shared bathroom, because they were roommates and your friends. The mysterious discovery of said dick pic from last night's party sparked this Journey to the Dick, because it was a very impressive, intriguing, and, most importantly, inspirational specimen of the male genitalia. Clearly you had to investigate.

For science.

Which was why you were standing in the bathroom with Jimin's sweatpants off and begrudgingly getting to your knees. Begrudgingly, because...

"I thought we were supposed to be ordering pizza and watching Running Man."

"We are," Jimin answered cheerfully. "After you suck my dick."

You glanced at the photo once more.

It remained, indeed, very rousing of certain interests.

You gripped the waistband of Jimin's black boxer briefs.

Hmm...

Hold on.

You stood up suddenly and took your phone from him, sudden determination overtaking you.

"I have to do this correctly."

Jimin blinked rapidly, jumping with a yelp as you flung open the bathroom door to reveal Taehyung throwing himself into the wall, coughing awkwardly and hiding his face with his hands as you marched out purposefully. Jimin was still pants-less.

"In the proper order!"

Jimin and Taehyung shared a confused look.

"The hell does she mean, proper order?'

-

kim namjoon.

“Namjoon, may I look at your dick?”

Kim Namjoon looked up from his book and blinked at you over his round glasses.

“Pardon?” he replied in English.

“Your dick,” you responded in kind, in English and with succinct pronunciation. “Your penis. Your willy. Your ding-dong. Your–”

Namjoon removed a hand from his book and held it up. “My what?” he interrupted you, laughing.

Oh good, back to Korean so you didn’t have to flex all the different ways you knew how to say cock in English. “Take off your pants.”

He blinked rapidly, innocently sitting there in his flowy white button-up and brown pants. He even had suspenders. Fancy man. He had dyed his hair recently, a steel midnight blue. That’s how Namjoon was, attractive and book-smart. Absolutely won the lottery when it came to genes and brains. You couldn’t see the title of the book he was reading, but it was probably a self-help or philosophy book. He was into those nowadays, exploring the human mind, while you were more into exploring the physical aspects of humanity.

Fucking.

Luckily, fucking didn’t usually require reading.

(Usually, heh.)

“I have no objections to your proposition. I’m just confused on why so suddenly.”

You dropped your canvas tote bag on the ground. Your red, short summer dress covered in yellow lemons flared out as you shifted your weight to one hip. Your phone was in one of your hands and you waved it around like a baton as you talked.

“Aren’t I usually sudden when I want to fuck?”

Namjoon chuckled, rich and deep, shutting his book and putting it aside. Probably memorized his page number. Big sexy brain and all that jazz. A fantastic characteristic of his.

He also had a big sexy dick you were asking to see right now.

“You are, but sometimes you offer to buy me a meal or a snack first.”

“I mean, sure, if you want–”

He lifted a hand and cocked a finger towards himself, smiling. When he smiled, his dimples appeared. That was your favorite feature on Namjoon. You bounced over excitedly and sat on the couch, skirt flipping up and exposing your thighs, still holding your phone.

“I’m on a mission.”

He quirked an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses detective-style. “What kind of mission?”

You pointed to your phone. “Do you remember that party we went to, the one with the wet t-shirt contest?” You lifted your arm and flexed your rather defined bicep that made Namjoon raise his eyebrows and mouth a wow under his breath. Consistent handys really did the trick when it came to bicep muscle definition. “You remember, right? You showed off your guns.”

He burst out laughing, waving a hand. “They are not guns.”

“Sure, they are. I could do a lot of social justice with your biceps, Namjoon.”

He shook his head, grinning, dimples on full display. “And what’s with the dress? You don’t usually wear such a cute style.”

You ticked your phone to the apartment front door. “I’m meeting Seokjin later, but he said he’s going to play another round of bowling because Jungkook kicked his ass again. But anyway, back to what I was saying…”

“Ah, yes. I think I remember Jimin mentioning something to me now.”

You brightened, unlocking your phone and holding up the screen. “Right! I’m looking for the owner of this dick.”

His eyes widened and Namjoon leaned forward, readjusting his glasses again. “Wow. That’s quite a clear picture.” Then he coughed and averted his eyes.

You nodded quickly. “Well? Did you take this picture?”

He frowned and sat back against the sofa, sucking in a breath and ticking his head. “Mmm, maybe? I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember what I did…”

“Hah… Does this look like your dick, then?”

“How would I know?” he chuckled. “I don’t see my dick from that angle and I don’t have sober photoshoots with my dick.”

You pursed your lips. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to fuck then. Drop the pants.”

The thing about Namjoon was that he was a very reasonable man. You had a problem and proposed a solution and he, an avid learner who liked searching for answers to the great mysteries of this world, had the means to help you out on your quest, so he did. In addition, he thought you were hot, you thought he was hot, and you’d already fucked a couple times before Journey to the Dick, so the mutual agreement was already there.

Splendid!

The other thing about Namjoon was that he really liked to make you work for it.

Slightly less splendid.

“Are you choking?”

You squinted at him and flipped him the bird. He was well-versed with popular Western hand gestures.

Namjoon nodded sagely. “That’s good.”

And he put his hand back onto the back of your head and shoved your mouth down onto his cock once more.

You had half a second to breathe again before air was forcefully taken from you, Namjoon now holding you there, nose-first into his crotch, sighing contentedly as he expanded in your mouth. You planted your hands onto his strong thighs and pushed, but his hand didn’t budge. The safe signal was three taps and you weren’t tapping out yet. You glared and Namjoon closed his eyes, smirking slowly.

He left his round glasses on.

‘Course he did.

Damn you, Namjoon!

You reached up and pawed at the buttons of his white shirt, making Namjoon open his eyes to see what you were doing as you unbuttoned them rather deftly for someone who had his dick filling up their throat. He looked down at you, cocking an eyebrow. You cheekily cocked one back, poking his pecs with your pinky.

He grinned. “Hm? What’s that?”

You clenched your throat around the head of his cock and he gasped, losing grip for a split second.

In that split second, you threw his shirt open, glorious his tan skin and large muscular pecs now in view, and slapped your hands down onto his thighs, instantly starting a fast, rough pace, curving your neck with every swallow, sandwiching his cock between tongue and top of your mouth, pulsing your wet muscles all over his length, staring at that well-built chest, watching the muscles ripple with his sudden, abrupt inhale.

“Oh, fuck!”

Sometimes you let Namjoon have the reigns, but this time you were on a mission, although it was a little distracting now because presently you had an unobstructed view of Kim Namjoon with his shirt open, head thrown back, midnight blue hair fanning over the sofa, his full lips open and panting, tendons in his neck tensing, broad shoulders flexed, leading down his defined chest and abs, core tight from your intense pace, thighs hard under your hands, cock swollen and thick, pulsating in your mouth. His large hands planted on top of yours, squeezing them with his.

The three taps applied to him too.

Instead, Namjoon moaned your name and gripped your hands.

“T-The picture… f-fuuuuuuuck…”

Shit, that’s right.

You reluctantly slowed, tongue swiping all over the underside of his dick, tracing the veins, moaning hotly around his cock. He lowered his chin, panting hard, dark brown eyes half-open and framed by his lovely silver glasses. It was him who reached for your phone and unlocked it. He remembered your pattern lock and you had only told him once. All your consistent fucks knew how to unlock your phone.

That’s how you had so many pictures of, ahem, good times.

He placed the phone on his hip and his head fell back against the sofa, inhaling deeply as you continued lapping at the base of the head, slowly sucking on it at the same time to keep him hard.

“Mmm, fuck, that’s nice…”

You mashed the tip of your tongue against the slit and coated it with pre-cum.

“Ah, come on, look already and compare,” Namjoon chuckled in his deep voice, raising a hand to pet your head. “Then you can finish me.”

You popped your mouth off reluctantly. “Hmm.” You placed a few fingers on his cock and looked at it, positioning it to the correct angle that matched the photo. “Huh, it’s pretty close. But you have this noticeable vein here, and I think the head of your cock is slightly different…” You squinted and brought your face rather close to his stiff length. “The skin tone seems right, but it’s not exact, and I think you’re bigger…”

Namjoon wrapped his hand around his dick and smacked your cheek with the head.

“Oi!”

You puffed your cheeks, strings of saliva and pre-cum covering your face.

He grinned, dimples on full display. “Oops.”

You jabbed your finger at your phone. “I’m doing an investigation here!”

He shrugged cheekily. “You said it wasn’t exact. Get up.”

You put your phone on top of his book on the side table and glared at him. “Well, yeah, but no need to bop me,” you grumbled, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, standing up, and removing your panties as Namjoon reached over to his pants and pulled out a condom from the pocket.

You did say you were coming. Namjoon liked to be prepared for you.

“You said you liked it,” he mused as you straddled his lap.

“I do when I’m notin the middle of an important mission,” you huffed, picking up the hem of your dress and revealing your wet pussy, chin cocked in defiance.

“You don’t have to sit on my dick then,” he said, pausing with the condom right over his cock.

You frowned. “Hurry up.”

He cocked an eyebrow, dark brown eyes trapping you in his allure. “Doesn’t seem like you want it.”

You narrowed your eyes.

Growled.

Then you smacked his hands away and rolled down the condom yourself before sliding onto him with one swift motion, clenching your jaw at the sensation of being quickly and solidly filled up, not giving him or you time to adjust. Namjoon tensed his neck, grinning, large hands coming up to firmly grip your hips. Your own came up to grab his biceps and squeeze them, mustering up your most indignant scowl. He chuckled, smirking as you pulsed your walls around him.

“Hold your dress so I can fuck you.”

“Maybe I want to do the moving.”

He clicked his tongue and rammed his hips up into you, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being driven into your tightness. Your nails dug into his arms, breaths shallowing into rapid gasps as he continued, firmly and roughly fucking you from below, hard thighs flexing and smacking into your inner thighs and ass.

“Hold your dress,” he repeated, voice low and commanding.

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered, reaching down with one hand to yank up your dress, pulling it up high so both you and Namjoon could watch as he very deliberately and very forcefully thrust upwards into your tight hole, smirking wider as he witnessed your expression and the strain of keeping the pleasure off your face.

“Don’t have to give orders if…” He jerked up particularly hard, hitting your sweet spot, causing you to gasp breathlessly. “You…” Smack! You bit you lip, moan trapped in your chest. “Just…” Smack!

“F-Fuck…”

“Listen.”

And then Namjoon seized your hips and fucked you hard and fast with you barely holding on his shoulder with one hand and the other clutching your dress, moaning his name shamelessly to his own face. Namjoon wasn’t a gloater. His face was serious and concentrated, brows furrowed and intent on giving maximum pleasure, maintaining clear control as you rapidly lost it, allowing and trusting him to lead you into carnal desires.

You leaned forward, hot exhale on his neck, changing the angle and letting him hit you deeper, tightening around him. You heard his breath hitch, hissing out your name. Your whispered against his jaw, close to his ear.

“You like it better when I don’t listen, Namjoon.”

So close, so close, so close.

He snickered, dark, devious, sensual.

“I dolove punishing you with my cock.”

You slid your hand into his midnight blue hair and shuddered, pleasure blooming from your core in heated throbs, savoring the intensity of the orgasm he gave you as Namjoon groaned in your ear, slamming you down onto his hard, twitching cock and moaning, spilling his own into the condom, thoroughly enjoying the vicious massage of your spasming pussy. You pressed your lips to his temple, flinching with the shivers that came after, riding out the peak by rocking your hips lightly, enjoying the fullness he gave you.

“Doesn’t seem like a punishment. I’m having a lot of fun,” you taunted, panting and mirthful.

He gave your ass a playful smack and you squeezed his length from top to bottom.

“We have time for round two,” he murmured, nibbling on your ear.

Kim Namjoon was a very reasonable man.

-

kim seokjin.

"Gah, fuck!"

"As a matter of fact, yes, let's."

Kim Seokjin nearly tripped and fell against the doorframe, gawking at you. His expressive brown eyes went wide, mouth open enough for a nice ice lolly to be placed between those plump lips.

"Why are you in my bed? Where are your clothes? Why are you holding Pink Bean like that?!"

You sighed exaggeratedly. Here we go. "I had a nice dress but Namjoon took it and said I can't have it back until after." You squeezed Seokjin's large Pink Bean plush that he usually kept on his bed, a fluffy representation of a boss from his favorite PC game, MapleStory. It had a bubblegum pink head, light purple horns, and a cute :3 face. You squashed it with your breasts and looked up at him, on your knees with your feet tucked under your ass, missing all your articles of clothing thanks to Kim Namjoon.

Such cute clothes only for him? I don’t think so.

Seokjin turned bright red, sputtering.

"D-D-Don't do that to Pink Bean!"

"Why not? You've fucked me from behind and I used Pink Bean as my chest support."

He strode across the room with two steps, his long legs making it easy, looking handsome and summery in his pastel yellow shirt and shorts two-piece set, flapping his hands helplessly.

"That was a special case!"

You started bouncing on Pink Bean, you and your tits. Seokjin's brown eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he actually tripped at the end of his bed, falling face-first with a high-pitched yelp.

"Seokjin, I need to see your dick."

He yanked his head up, chestnut brown hair flying everywhere, shooting you a confused glare.

"Yah! You can't just show up naked and start demanding dick while abusing Pink Bean!"

You reached up and scooped your breasts forward, squashing them between the purple horns, nipples poking out above Pink Bean's head. Seokjin looked like he was about to pass out. Probably from loss of blood to his head.

You balanced your phone in your cleavage, inspirational dick pic between your tits.

"Is this your dick, Seokjinnie?" you asked sweetly.

He started, squinting at the screen between your tits. "The heck? What is that?"

"A dick. Is it yours?"

Seokjin made a disgusted face.

"Are they really that ugly? Mine sure as hell isn't."

"Oh, so it's not? You know for sure?"

Seokjin scoffed. "Come on, there's no way that could be mine, look–"

And he sat up and yanked his shorts and underwear off, slapping them down on the floor and spreading his legs, presenting his very hard and quite pretty dick and balls. He huffed triumphantly, planting his hands in his hips.

"How could that thing compare to–gah!"

You crawled over Pink Bean, shoving the plush against your stomach and placing yourself between Seokjin's long legs, oblivious to his shriek of surprise, holding up his shirt as you compared his cock to the one on your phone.

"What the–where did you g-get that picture?!"

Your hot breath wafted over his twitching length as you held it delicately with your fingertips, ass up in the air, tilting his dick to adjust the angle so he mirrored the photo. "Remember that party with the wet t-shirt contest?” you explained nonchalantly. “The one where I said you'd totally win because of your broad shoulders, but Taehyung got more votes because he had been working out and looking all buff recently?"

Seokjin was gasping as you held up your phone. Hmm, not the same thickness. Plus, he seemed harder, sticking out straighter than this photo dick. But there was a small mole in his dick that seemed to match the picture. The length is pretty spot-on too. You scooted closer, cradling his cock with your palm and coaxing it with your fingertips, ass bouncing on Pink Bean's head.

"Oh, fuck..."

"Anyway, someone snapped this photo and I've been trying to figure out who, but everyone was drunk and, if I recall correctly, you were on a table dancing with a pool noodle and belting Kim Yonja's 'Amor Fati', so I don't think you remember much from that night."

Seokjin's voice was pitched, strained from holding back.

"I remember those... oh, fuck... those shorts you were wearing... ah, with your ass hanging out on the bottom... fuck, wanted to bend you over... but yeah, after that..."

Then you yelped when you felt his hands on your head dragging you forward and pressing your open lips to his cock.

"Ah, yeees..."

"Seokjin, wait–mphf!"

He shoved the head of his cock into your lips and looked down. You narrowed your eyes as he began to gently hump your face, filling your mouth with the hardness. You sucked in your cheeks a little, molding your mouth to him, still giving him your best annoyed face.

"Is it my dick?" he gasped, pushing deeper.

You made a confused noise and Seokjin frowned at you.

"Yes or no?"

Seriously? You held up your hand and hovered it in the air, wiggling your fingers up and down, the universal sign of–

"What do you mean, maybe?! Oh, it's because a phone camera isn't good enough to catch the majesty of my cock, is that it?"

You could had been annoyed, but then you thought about it. He brought up a good point. You hadn't considered that. Still, the shape wasn't exact though. A phone camera couldn't alter dick angle, right?

No time to think about it because Seokjin rammed his entire length into your mouth and down your throat in your moment of contemplation.

"Mmmphf!"

"Just, ah, don't move, let me fuck your face real quick–"

You didn't really expect anything less, so you pushed him down, sliding his shirt up his torso, changing the angle so you weren't straining your neck. Seokjin fell onto his elbows, hands letting go but hips still moving, groaning as you enclosed your mouth around him and rubbed your tongue all over.

"Ah, your ass is so sexy, damn, bounce it for me..."

He seemed to forget that in order to do that, you had to hump Pink Bean like a dog in heat but, hey, when the man who called himself World Wide Handsome (drunk and sober, that was the kind of man Kim Seokjin was) asks you to twerk for him, you do as you are told and give Pink Bean the best hump that plush is ever going to have.

"Fuuuuuuuck, yes, your ass is so perky and juicy, fuck, like a sweet peach..."

You tried not to choke with laughter in his dick, but the action made your throat muscles squeeze and spasm around the head, immediately making it jerk and swell at the added simulation, causing Seokjin to gasp your name and fiercely clutch his sheets.

"Fuck, yes...!"

You looked up, cocking an eyebrow, seeing his brown hair messy and fallen over his forehead, eyelids fluttering, panting as you took over the pace, firmly enveloping him all the way to the base, sandwiching him between your tongue and roof of your mouth, dragging the head over the slick wetness, pulsing expertly around his hardness. His dainty pink tongue flitted over his lips and made them glisten, full, plump, sexy as hell.

"I'm so glad Namjoon took your clothes," he wheezed.

This guy really said whatever thought that popped into his handsome head.

You smirked around his cock and wiggled your eyebrows.

Then you grabbed his hips and really gave it to him, fast and tight, angling your head so he slid into your throat deeply and easily, sending Seokjin into a sputter of curses, prayers, and blessings to who-knew-what, gripping fistfuls of his sheets and throwing his head back, beautiful neck on display and broad shoulders flexed, moaning loudly.

You almost stopped, awed by his perfectly sensual posture.

Then Seokjin thrust his crotch into your lips and gasped your name, shooting down your throat in swift, tense jolts, forcing you to stop staring at him and hurriedly gulp it all down, squeezing your eyes shut so you could concentrate, sucking in a short breath, and making him yelp, flinching to cram more of the head into your constricting throat.

You prodded his stomach sharply and drew an ‘X’, telling him to stop so you could swallow.

“B-But…”

You gave him a bunch of other hand gestures and none of them were nice. It contrasted the way you were lapping at his cock, coaxing him back to full hardness with soft tongue and delicate pushes against the roof of your mouth. He lifted one of his hands and started messing with yours, the one on his stomach making obscene hand signals. You felt him try and grab your fingers, poke at your palm, and, finally, grab your hand and tug it up, shoving your fingers into his mouth.

You popped your mouth off his cock in surprise. “Hey!”

Seokjin looked at you with giant brown eyes like a dog caught with a treat in his mouth. “Mmphf?”

You made a confused face at him.

His tongue started sliding between them, licking your joints and pads of your fingers, wiggling all around, covering you with his saliva and sending shivers over your skin at the strange sensation. You could feel the power in that squirming muscle, his brown eyes watching your reaction, your own eyes fixated on the way it looked, three of your fingers surrounded and crammed into those lush, soft, pillow-like lips, squirming, sensual tongue slipping between them, dripping saliva down your palm and back of your hand.

“H-Hey…”

It was bizarre, feeling an odd juxtaposition of the submissive nature of the act, and yet he was deliberate and forceful about it, staring pointedly as the tip of his tongue snaked out from the side of his lips, licking the side of your pinky.

“S… Seokjin…?”

He reached up and pulled your hand out of his mouth, the pads of your fingers dragging on his lower lip, wet streaks of saliva painted down his chin.

The ghost of a smirk on his open mouth, eyebrow ticking arrogantly.

You blinked at him, unaware that you were clutching Pink Bean with your other hand so hard that your knuckles were white.

Then Seokjin grinned and wrapped your wet hand around his dick and started jacking himself off with it.

“Hey! I want that in me!”

“What? Gah!”

Somehow, you convinced him to fuck you – read: threw Seokjin down on his own bed, put a condom on him, rolled him back on top of you and guided his cock to your pussy before grabbing his ass and yanking down, making you both gasp as he entered you with one smooth stroke, your back on top of Pink Bean.

Pink Bean was really seeing a lot of your naked body today, just like Kim Seokjin.

“F-Fuck– yah!”

That was his noise of protest as you yanked his yellow shirt over his head, throwing it as far as you could, out his still open bedroom door.

“Sorry, needed to get rid of useless things.”

“I like that shirt!”

You grabbed onto his wide shoulders and rolled your hips up into his crotch, wrapping your thighs around his waist and squeezing. He sputtered at the intense feeling of your pussy wrapping around him, arms shaking to hold himself up, brown hair messy and wild over his forehead, brown eyes wide in indignation.

“Sorry, my bad, I’ll pick it up after I get another out of this magnificent dick,” you quipped.

Seokjin turned red, unaccustomed to someone other than himself complimenting him.

“Why are you hanging onto me like a monkey – oh my God…!”

You used his mattress and Pink Bean to bounce up and down on his dick from below, fingers tangled in his hair, wetly smacking your hips into his crotch, panting his name into his ear, your cock feels so fucking good, love the way you fill me, fuck me up, Seokjin, giving him the praise that he wanted and that breathless moan he liked, the one where you added a bit of underlying mischievous depth, pulling back one of your hands and tracing his plush lips, his mouth opening and pink tongue lolling out, puling you into that wetness, locking his gaze with yours.

Soft and tight around two of your fingers as you slapped your hips into his, losing a bit of your power now that a hand was occupied, intense sparks shooting from your fingertips to your core, his tongue sliding sensually between them, your juices leaking out, getting wetter and wetter, head emptying and replaced with sinful pleasure as you stared into those dark brown orbs with blown-out pupils, sparkling eyes smiling at you.

Seokjin took over and started fucking you into his mattress (and Pink Bean).

Both of you completely forgot about the dick pic.

-

min yoongi.

"Ah, fuck, I forgot, I need to see your dick, f-fuck!"

"It's," Smack! "A," Smack! "Little," Smack! "Busy at the moment."

"Yoongi!"

The bed shifted and hit the wall.

"Oh no," came the most unbothered oh no behind you.

"Your damn neighbors are going to complain again," you hissed, planting your hands on the mattress and lifting your upper body up a little to scowl at him. "They're so annoying."

"Yeah, that's why I like fucking you," Min Yoongi snickered, looking back with his curly black mullet in complete disarray, smirking lips dark and swollen from making out. He raised an eyebrow at your displeased expression, dark brown eyes flashing. "Something wrong? Not rough enough for you?"

You narrowed your eyes. "I need to see your dick when it's fully hard."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. After this one."

"Yoongi–"

He cut you off. "Hand," he ordered.

You extended your left hand out back to him and he grabbed your forearm, long fingers gripping tightly, before proceeding his railing of your pussy from behind, your ass smacking into his crotch repeatedly.

"Yoongi – ah, oof!"

You slipped and fell face first into his pillows, gasping at the altered depth of each thrust, hard and deliberate, filling you up as you clenched around him, following his rhythm by pushing back with your hips and moaning as Yoongi slowly built up the pace, bottoming out each time.

"Why do you need to see my dick?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't pounding you with it right this very second.

"Because, oh fuck, someone left a, fuck, Yoongi, yes, dick pic on my phone, aaah, right there, fuck, you're so fucking good, that night of the party, the one with the wet t-shirt c-contest, fuck, Yoongi, I love your dick so much, fuck!"

"Why would I do that?" he grunted, spanking your ass with his free hand and making you claw at his sheets, pain seeping into the pleasure and amplifying it, skin prickling hot, causing the excessive dripping between your joined legs. The headboard was now repeatedly smacking the wall.

"I dunno, you were drunk too, do you remember, mmm, yes, harder, yeah, like that, telling Taehyung you loved him and that he was your favorite little alien child?"

Behind you, you heard Yoongi choke slightly in embarrassment.

"No, I do not..."

"See, maybe you jacked off and snapped a memoir on my phone."

Yoongi let go of your arm and firmly gripped your ass with two hands.

"Memoirs are written."

"Maybe if they wrote their name, I wouldn't be on this journey – ah, Yoongi!"

You grabbed fistful of sheets and snapped yourself back up, your hair messy and cascading down your shoulders, meeting every vicious slap of Yoongi's hips to yours, his balls hitting your soaked clit and sending stings of satisfaction from your core to your limbs, so good, moaning his name, his growl of yours punctuated by his nails digging into your ass, give it to me, come on, and you fucked him back, pressing your palms into his sheets and feeling the shuddering ecstasy again and again, deep pulses tightening around his hardness, making him groan with want.

"One more, one more, I'm so fucking close, fuck..."

"You've been close, you're holding back, you're a dick, ow!"

Yoongi smacked your ass particularly hard and you clenched your core so tight that he gasped and probably delayed his orgasm even further.

"You're the one asking to see it," he panted, adjusting the angle to shove you further into his bed even though it wasn't possible, and continued his relentless assault in your pussy.

"If anyone has a nice dick, it's you, you bas... fuuuuuuuck, Yoongi, yes, I'm gonna c-cum, fuck!"

The pleasure shot through you like lightning, waves of tortuous triumph as you clutched his pillow and screamed his name into it, your juices leaking out from around his pumping cock and splattering onto his crotch and inner thighs, drenching his balls, saturating his skin with your sweet scent, Yoongi moaning your name and squeezing your ass as he fully sheathed himself in your shaking walls and exploded into the condom, his whole length twitching and shivering inside your spasming pussy, your ass prickling on pain, both of you gasping for air.

Someone on the other side of the wall was banging it and told you two to shut the fuck up, or at least you assumed that's what that muffled yelling was.

You and Yoongi ignored it.

"Are you... hah... okay?" Yoongi panted, rubbing your ass and kneading it.

"Of course, I am, what do you take me for, an amateur?" you chuckled, lifting your head, your breathing erratic and uneven. "Now let me see your dick, Yoongi."

The other side of the wall kept swearing. Very colorful, very loud, very upsetti in the spaghetti.

Poor thing must not be getting laid regularly.

"Fuck, fine, you know I like staying in there at least for a little while..." he grumbled, holding the condom down as you untangled yourself from his body, sighing exaggeratedly as you turned around and yanked it off. You tossed it into the trashcan that was already beside the bed.

Yoongi had the foresight to be prepared for a night with you.

"I don't have to leave soon. We have plenty of time."

The shouting through the wall seemed to have given up, kicking it once and swearing very heatedly before stomping off.

"You better not. I'm not finished with you."

You picked up your phone and unlocked it, opening your photo gallery, pushing Yoongi down so you could wrap your fingers around his slick, semi-hard cock. It throbbed contentedly in your hand as you began to move it up and down in smooth, tight strokes, flexing your fingers to add variation in the stimulation.

"Mmm, fuck, yeah, faster..."

You pulled the photo up and put your phone on the bed beside his hip and calmly continued your movements, looking down at him, him and fair-skinned cheeks with a slight fluffiness to them, him and his lightly upturned upper lip that gave him a cat-like appearance, him and his lowered lashes over black-brown orbs that held quiet, sensual intelligence. His hair was messy from fucking you so hard, but he was effortlessly sexy regardless, leaning back on his elbows, torso lifted to watch your hand. Yoongi noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow, wispy black strands grazing his dark brow.

“What?”

You smiled.

“Just thinking you’re really hot, Yoongi.”

He cringed slightly, ears turning pink and shifted his eyes away, closing them. Your own roamed down, down his defined shoulders and toned arms and chest, sucking in a breath at the sight, that slim waist and pretty hips, his cock filling up your hand, getting harder and harder, the head getting darker from sensitivity, the slickness of the lube and his own cum making it easier for you and better for him. Your other hand traced his side, running your nails over it and you heard his low moan, raising your head and your eyes found his. He was observing you again, glancing from the photo to you, the corner of his lips tugging upwards, ticking his head to the screen.

“That it?”

You ran your nails over his skin, just the way he liked it, light, pressing in a little when it came to the upper side of his hip, seeing his pupils expand and his breathing shallow, pink tongue licking his lips slowly.

“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly.

You increased the pace, pumping him from base to head, entranced by Yoongi’s expression, desire and cockiness despite becoming unraveled in your hands, his lower body trembling under you, your thighs pressed to his tense ones, tempting you to sit on and rub yourself all over them.

“Pretty dick.”

Slap, slap, slap. Hand on wet cock, sending shivers through you and through him.

“That’s why it could be yours.”

You saw his cheeks flush light pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he made piercing eye contact.

“Stop.”

You gasped sharply and ceased all movement, feeling his rigid stiffness pulse against your palm.

“Look,” Yoongi commanded in that low, raspy voice of his.

You bit your lip and removed your hand, strings of fluids snapping between your fingers and his hot, taut skin. His cock was so hard that it was sticking straight up, dark and imposing, twitching slightly. Long pale fingers picked up your phone and held it next to his erection.

“Well?” he chuckled.

You chewed on your lip, squinting at the screen. Reached over and ran your wet fingers over his twitching length, hearing Yoongi hiss and gasp at your touch as you angled his dick to match up with the photo. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult – the position seemed to match up perfectly. He was a little taller and thicker though. The shape of the head was similar, but also a bit off. The skin tone wasn’t quite correct either, the red-purple with subtly differing undertones. Still, lighting might affect that kind of detail. It wasn’t like you knew where this picture was taken.

“Hm… It’s really close, but not an exact match.”

“Well, damn.”

Yoongi tossed your phone aside carelessly, hand reaching out and you bent down, already knowing what he wanted, lips to lips, sliding against his body. You loved the way he kissed. Intense but soft, hand on your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek, nail grazing your earlobe, whispering into your lips, put me between your thighs, and you shifting up, closing your thighs around his wet cock, his lustful sigh and smirk on your lips, slowly thrusting in between your legs.

“Tighter.”

You hooked your ankles, one over the another and squeezed.

“Mmm, fuck yes, you’re so good…”

His words reminded you of the first time, crammed into the backseat of a small car, snuck out of a party to have Min Yoongi pull you into his grasp, tongue and lips all over you, your arms over his shoulders, wondering what you were doing because this kind of guy wasn’t your type, quiet, yes, a music nerd, yes, however he knew what he was doing, light bites on you skin making you gasp and slide down his jean-covered thigh, delicious friction to your soaked panties, tipping your head back to give that decadent mouth more access to your throat.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. A certain someone was probably wondering where you were.

“Yoongi, how… fuck, yes, how are you so good… you’re so good…”

His deep voice over your vocal cords, vibrating them with his seductive tone.

“DND your phone,” he purred, drawing a line down your throat with his tongue, coating you with his saliva, his musky, woody cologne transferring to your shivering skin.

“What…?” you panted, unable to think straight.

He plucked it out of your back pocket, tapping it against your arm.

“Put it on do not disturb and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll be coming back to me all the time.”

You fumbled with your phone, strong hands scooping out your breasts from your top, those lips sinking into your cleavage and tongue ghosting over your nipples, moaning as you dropped it, ignoring Park Jimin’s text, lost in those skillful hands and that expert mouth that eventually kissed down to your pussy and drove you crazy, but not before setting your skin on fire and making you beg for it.

“Yoongi…”

His lips on yours, his eyes and your eyes both half-open, marveling at the way his lashes adorned those black brown orbs and the way he looked at you, drunk on lust and your body.

“You want me?”

Hands on your hips, grinding you down on his thigh, teasing you. He wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type… so why, why did that sly, knowing gaze do things to you? Why did it make your heartbeat stutter and your juices seep into the denim of his jeans, so turned on that you didn’t want anything else right now but Min Yoongi?

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Y… Yeah…”

That smirk.

“I know you do.”

You did end up coming back all the time.

He was very good and it wasn’t just his mouth.

Yoongi backed up and smirked, open-mouthed, mischievous, so fucking hot that you felt your pussy throb at the mere sight, his warm, pulsing length still jammed between your soft, closed thighs.

“You wanna ride my dick?”

You grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You completely forgot about the photo and spent the rest of the night on Yoongi’s cock and ignoring the yelling from his neighbors.

-

jung hoseok.

“Hoseokie…”

Teeth on your ear, a dexterous, teasing tongue flicking your earrings, your name coming out of that heart-shaped smile in a low, sultry whisper that contrasted it.

“You can’t come here looking like this and not expect me to want to ruin you,” Jung Hoseok purred into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your lips curved into a smile.

You were on your knees, spread out a little, short black minidress hiked up your thighs, facing the mirrors of the dance studio. Hoseok knelt behind you, hands travelling all over your body. Deft fingers, neatly manicured nails, his sharp jaw grazing your shoulder, pulling down the thin straps. Your large hoodie was tossed to the side, scattered onto the hardwood floor in haste. The frosted door of Smile Hoya’s rented dance studio space was locked, hip-hop music blaring loudly, and in the center was you and Hoseok.

You knew he could hear your shuddering exhale well, already attuned to the sounds of your pleasure.

He smirked and kissed the top of your ear, yanking down the top of your dress.

It wasn’t like this the first time.

“Ah, well, I was hoping… wondering, ah… I don’t know how to say…?”

You were in his bedroom at the time, confused. “Yoongi said you wanted to talk to me about something? What is it, Hoseok?”

He had been very nervous, somewhat shaky, staring into your eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand, tilting your head. He took a moment to speak, hiding his brown eyes under his blond hair.

“Uh, well, I was talking to hyung and I mentioned I… I feel like I have to put up a front sometimes. Because I’m so happy and stuff. Women expect me to be like that… in bed… And he suggested that maybe you could help me… chill out, but, uh, that’s really rude to say, ah, I shouldn’t have–”

He tried to yank his hand out of yours in panic but you held on, tugged forward by his movement. Hoseok squeaked, ears turning red, freezing in place.

“Hey.”

You held his hand and patted it with your free one, smiling gently.

“I absolutely can help you chill out when it comes to sex. What do you want to know? What do you want to do? I’ll teach you.”

You noticed his expression change from panic to worry, chewing on his lip.

“N… No, you misunderstand… It’s not having sex, I…”

He trailed off, suddenly silent. You frowned slightly, nudging him. Hoseok cleared his throat and looked you dead in the eye.

“I’m not nice.”

Now he squeezed your hand tightly, breathing in your scent.

“Or rather, I don’t want to be nice when I fuck. Sometimes I want to let go and just…” He frowned, not seeming to know the word.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear.

“Fuck?”

“Yeah, I just… don’t want to think about an image I have to uphold.”

You grinned. “Yoongi did direct you to the right woman.”

His blond hair was even lighter now, the tips dyed with navy, a soft, sexy contrast to his rich tan skin. This was now many, many fucks later, hooking up at parties, at random times at his apartment, and now at the space he rented to practice dance on his own. Hoseok liked to freestyle and feel the music. When he fucked, he liked to feel the moment.

His hands gripped your breasts and squeezed, sandwiching your nipples between his index and middle finger, tugging hard.

You gasped in his hands, just what he wanted, open-mouthed smirk and all.

“Hoseok… I have to… ah, ask you something…”

He shoved his hips into your back and you gasped at the thinness of his shorts, rubbing his hardening cock against the top of your ass. A brown orb watched you through the mirror and he was smiling that brilliant, heart-shaped smile, contrasting his forceful touch.

“What do you want to ask?” he chirped cheerfully, pinching your nipples and twisting them.

You moaned, savoring the swift, firm pain followed by the pads of his fingers rubbing the tips of your nipples, grinding your ass onto his stiff length. Your phone was in your right hand. You bit your lip, seeing him watch you carefully in the mirror. You raised the phone and unlocked it.

“Is this your dick?”

You noticed Hoseok pause and squint. You turned your phone and held at up so he could get a good look. His hands were still on your tits, although he had paused the moment to view the image, blinking rapidly at it.

“When was this taken?” He tilted his head, looking confused.

“The party with the wet t-shirt contest? The–”

“One where Yoongi grabbed Taehyung and told him he was his favorite alien child?”

“Oh? You do remember?”

Hoseok winced, as if the events of the night haunted him. “I remember… not much after that…”

“Oh…” You faltered. “So you wouldn’t remember if you took this picture on my phone, huh?”

“No, sorry.”

“Then… can I see it?”

He grinned. “You have to earn it.”

Earning it could mean anything.

Today, earning it meant cumming at least three times with Hoseok’s fingers before he even let you take off his shorts.

“H-Hoseok…!”

He always smelled so good, so fucking good, orange and musk complemented with the barely-there vanilla sweetness, a scent that always seemed to linger on your skin afterward. His lips were on your neck, leaving small bites, chuckling darkly. One hand on your nipple, the other between your legs, your dress bunched at the waist and your panties at your knees, not letting you take any of it off, forcing you to watch yourself as he wrecked you, teasing your oversensitive clit with his fingertips, slick and slippery, thighs shaking from the second orgasm and coaxing you to the third, sharp throbs of lust causing your eyes to roll back, head falling against his shoulder.

“Hoseok, p-please…”

He had no trouble holding onto you, flexible and strong, and you were grinding your hips down, lost in the feeling, leaking everywhere because he hadn’t actually put his fingers inside you yet, teasing you and teasing you and teasing you, driving you crazy, please put your fingers inside me, please Hoseok, your name murmured gently in your ear, no, not until the third time, and then I’m going to put my cock in you once you’ve shown me how good of a girl you are, and you were going to lose your mind, shivering in continued ecstasy, squirming in his hands, your own reaching back and fisting his hair and white shirt, moans masked by the loud music, so close, so close, your perfume mixing with his, sex and cologne, shivers and heat, teeth on your ear and circles rubbed onto your aching nerves.

Shallow gasps.

Peaking pleasure.

Seeing nothing but black, eyelids fluttering, wanton moans torn from your throat.

The song ended.

Hoseok removed his hand from your nipple and covered your mouth, muffling your scream as you came, taking your air and your sanity, pleasure rocketing up your core, crying out with need for something, anything, inside you, pushing your hips back into his crotch, feeling his cock swell at your bouncing ass, desperate for him.

The music began again.

Now you were on your hands and knees, suddenly released, gasping for breath, legs shaking from the aftershocks.

“Look.”

Turning around, your shaking hands pulling down his shorts hurriedly, still wearing your black dress and panties around your knees, hardly registering the inconvenience, not caring, completely focused on the semi-hard length in front of your face. No time. Hoseok gave you no time, grabbing your face and dragging your open mouth to him, sliding into your lips, his oversized shirt touching your nose, you whimpering at the hotness and tautness of his velvet skin. The fullness invaded your throat, taking your breath away. He buried himself all the way in before yanking his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside with his vest that was shed earlier, far too hot now, looking down at you through his lashes.

“Don’t choke.”

Hand in your hair, pushing you down, not letting you move as he rolled his hips into your face, the head rubbing against the rood of your mouth and your tongue pushing it up to make it tighter for him, taking him deeper, hazy and intoxicated on orange, musk and vanilla. His other hand held your phone up, unlocking it with ease.

Smirk on those lips, heart-shaped and teasing. “So? Is it mine?”

You whined, not wanting him out of your mouth.

“Your choice,” Hoseok chuckled, tone light and unassuming, the edge of danger only visible in those sparkling brown eyes. “Find out or I’ll cum in your mouth and not in that pretty pussy of yours I’m looking at right now.”

Right, because you were bent over, ass facing the mirror, wetness dripping down your inner thighs.

Fuck.

You backed up, growling, glaring at the picture you knew all too well now.

“Well?”

Fine, fine, fine, you were on this fucking Journey to the Dick, and it was starting to feel more like an annoying side mission than the actual main storyline, but, whatever, you reached up and angled Hoseok’s cock slightly, sucking in a breath with him as you looked from phone screen to the delicious real-life specimen. Hm, okay. Similar in length and color. Not in angle though. Shit. And not in width either, barely a hair slimmer and the vein placement was more prominent on Hoseok’s length than this dick.

“Fuck, it’s really fucking close but I don’t think it’s yours.”

“Shit,” Hoseok sighed, turning your phone off and tossing it onto his discarded shirt. “Oh well.”

You narrowed your eyes, pouting. “What kind of react–gah!”

Hoseok pushed you down onto the ground, pushing his shorts down to his knees and pulling out a condom from the pocket, cocking a brow. You sputtered, trying to untangle yourself from the labyrinth of your own clothes, but only managed to kick off your panties before he got the condom rolled down and pushed your legs up, lifting your ass completely off the floor.

“Can’t have this pretty ass on this dirty floor,” he snickered, lifting himself higher, bending you in half, almost on your upper back, nearly uncomfortable, but Hoseok was stronger than he looked, and when he gave you what you needed, you instantly forgot about the discomfort.

“Oooh, fuck, Hoseok!”

He plunged into you, into hot wet tightness, stretching you out easily from the previous wetness, clit throbbing as he smacked his hips down, his balls slapping against your ass, drawing out another moan as his fingers brushed your clit, making you spasm and clench around his cock as he teased the overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, yes, so tight, so wet, so desperate for a cock to fill this hole, aren’t you?” he purred, still so sweet but with such dirty words, so handsome with his blond hair and navy tips, heart-shaped smirk and glittering eyes, and the way he said your name, dainty and serene, slowly thrusting into you, but so hard, he was so hard from being inside you, completely consumed by the physicality of the act and no longer the same man who had been worrying about how you would perceive him.

That seemed ages ago now.

Your hands reached up between your legs, running your fingers through his hair, completely forgetting about the photo of the mysterious dick and focused on the one thrusting between your legs, smiling up at him, those brown eyes and lovely jaw.

“You’re so good, Hoseok, so fucking good to me, fuck, harder, yes, ah…”

Both of you forgot about the music, fucking through the pause between them, hoping that everyone else was too busy with their own choreography to think about the hot gasps and moans exchanged between you and him in the middle of the room, the act reflected in the wall of mirrors, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls, your name and his name in breathless whispers, tight and full and hot and wet and soaring on sky-high pleasure, climbing altitude and running out of oxygen.

“Fuck, gonna cum, fuck–”

“Ah, Hoseok, yes…”

Tip, free-fall, you clamping a hand over Hoseok’s mouth and his hand over yours, screaming into each other’s palms at the intensity and the force of orgasm, smacking your hips together and holding them there, feeling his cock twitch inside you and your shivering walls clamp around him in rough, intense pulses.

It took a moment to disembark from the euphoric high.

“Hah… we should… probably not fuck here…” he gasped, falling a little, cradling your ass so it didn’t directly touch the floor.

“I’d fuck you anywhere, so that’s your fault. You need to be the voice of reason.”

He laughed, rich and infectious, and you grinned, holding his head against your breasts and hugging him tightly.

-

park jimin.

“I hate you.”

“Come on, Jimin.”

"I was supposed to be first!"

"Oh my God, are we going on about this again?!"

"You were supposed to suck MY dick first!"

"Stop being a fucking brat, Park Jimin!"

"No!"

You tackled him and you both fell to the floor, rolling into a mess of giant t-shirts, fierce kisses and your hands in his now red hair, fiery and hot-headed like he was being right now.

"You little–"

"Don't you dare call me little!"

"I was gonna call you a little shithead but if you wanna be a big shithead, that's fine with me!"

He pinned you down and you grabbed his waist with your legs and rammed your crotch into his black shorts, making him gasp in horny pain and crumple into his laundry that you were supposed to help him fold, but instead you were wrestling and he was complaining about not getting his dick sucked.

It was your turn to pin him down with your arms and your thighs, Jimin seeing stars as he struggled to breathe from your lower belly smacking his erection the wrong way.

"Why, ack, why did you run off saying there's a proper order?" he choked out, choking harder as your panty-covered mound sat down on his length and started rubbing up and down, smirking down at him, his red hair flaring out on his cream rug.

"'Cause there is," you replied, calm and cool.

"Order of what? Order of how you fucked us?"

"Nah, I fucked Yoongi first, remember? At that party, ages ago..." you hummed, extending the expanse of your movement, sliding up and down his thighs, his plush lips open and moaning softly, his grip on your large t-shirt tightening. It was actually his, because neither you nor Jimin knew the meaning of keeping your clothes on.

"Yeah, in my car!"

"Eh, you were drunk and playing pool with Taehyung, which, by the way, he mad cheated and you didn't even notice."

"Fuck!"

You weren't sure if that exclamation was related to your teasing or Taehyung cheating, but Jimin removed one of his hands from your shirt and flipped off the wall, in the direction of Taehyung's room.

Ah, so not you.

"Is it age order? But Namjoon isn't the oldest..." Jimin refuted himself, frowning.

"He’s first because he's kind of like the leader of you guys, isn't he? You all end up listening to his reasoning anyway."

Jimin squinted, pouting. "That's just because his tall and smart and has a fatty IQ."

You grinned. "148."

Jimin looked very annoyed that you remembered the exact number.

“I never thought about it, but other than that, it is age order, huh?” you mused, bouncing on his dick.

He shuddered with satisfaction, rolling his hips into you. “Then why would you…?”

You shrugged. “Your names sound good together like that. Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook…”

Jimin added your name last with an amused smirk. You bit your lower lip, cocking an eyebrow and sporting a devious smile, leaning down. Lips to lips, a soft sigh, remembering that night, stumbling out of Jimin’s car and tangled in Yoongi’s touch, still kissing Yoongi with your ass on the hood of the car. Jimin had been annoyed at you then too, how could you fuck him first and not me, Yoongi laughing in that raspy, sexy way of his, because I asked, dumbass, Jimin grabbing your face and kissing you right in front of Yoongi, the older man clicking his tongue and squeezing your ass tighter, unimpressed.

In some ways, that night started off the chain reaction of hey, why not me?

Okay, maybe you did have some frustrations about your dating life and ended up tumbling into their beds for, ahem, emotional support, but in your defense, they were all great when it came to emotional support.

“Sit on my face.”

“That’s not the angle of the dick pic though.”

“Then just take the pic from that position. That’s how it was taken, right?”

Sometimes, Park Jimin was a damn genius.

He was great at eating pussy too.

“Ah, fuuuck, Jimin…”

A little messy at first, humming approvingly at your taste, thrusting his tongue into you and moaning as your muscles closed in on it, your slick nectar painting those beautiful, soft lips, him pressing them to your heat, lewd kisses, tongue swiping up and down.

“Gotta clean you up so you can dirty me up,” he breathed, tracing sensual patterns in between your thighs with his tongue, small nips to make you whine, his hands on your ass, moaning into your pussy as your kiss came into contact with his rigid cock, dripping saliva and licking it back up, gyrating your tongue at the tip and licking off the pre-cum, savoring the taste, strong and almost sweet.

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was frustrated with you.

“Fuck, give it to me.”

His hands on your ass, pushing you down, setting your pussy flush onto his lips, blocking off his airway and moaning hotly, desperate, needy, wanting your noises as you swallowed him, his length swelling in your mouth at the wet encasement, swirling your tongue all around.

You’re so mean. I can’t believe you wouldn’t ask me first, get on your knees, come on, aren’t you sorry?

You weren’t, not even in the slightest bit sorry for fucking Yoongi in his car, but you had enjoyed his little pout and twinge of jealousy, kisses up his muscular thighs, the same thighs you were clutching right now, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear, remembering his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock, the same cock you buried all the way into the back of your throat, blocking your own ability to breathe, suffocating on it as Jimin groaned, coming back up for air, rushing exhale washing over your skin before returning to his work on your clit, rapid, intense licks that shimmered pleasure through your veins.

Jimin made you choke on his dick after the Yoongi incident, but you were the one in control of it now, rutting the head against your throat muscles, feeling it get harder and harder. He always felt so good in your mouth, recalling him saying once, I just really like getting my dick sucked, shut up and stop shaming me, tongue and lips and saliva, remembering how much he liked it when you held the base and focused on the tip, his muffled whines getting more intense and vibrating your core, making sure to pop your lips over the bottom of the head every time you came up and then pressing them tightly as you went back down, doing it all at that fast, suffocating pace that made him stop licking you to throw his head back and moan, loud lust radiating off the walls, not caring about disturbing anyone, too absorbed into your pace to be considerate.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, fuck, you’re so good…”

Jimin was part of the reason you were good.

He really liked getting his dick sucked. Your mouth was one of his favorites and usually readily available.

Win-win.

“Faster, fuck, oh, shit, I’m gonna cum, mmmphf!”

He grabbed your ass and smothering himself with your pussy, body trembling under you as his cock jerked and shot into your throat, your lips closing in, sucking hard to drink his cum, his moans filling your wet hole and tongue all over your clit, furiously licking as you rubbed the twitching head into the roof of your mouth, his hips squirming at the overstimulation, but his violent grip and nails digging into your ass was telling you to do it, telling you he loved it, telling you he needed it, begging you to do what you did best, gulping around the head and then jamming it into your throat, cutting off your air.

He sucked on your clit, hard, whining so loud that you could feel it in his chest and racing heartbeat pressed against your lower belly, almost lifting your lower half with his upper body alone, showing off his strength from dancing. You angled your head, taking as much as you could, nose in his balls, whimpering around his cock and the snap of orgasm making your entire body flinch, leaking all over his face and into his mouth, his nose buried into your pussy, tongue soothing your throbbing clit, wave after intense wave, barely breathing, lightheaded with pleasure, clutching his thighs tightly, naked bodies suddenly dirty, surrounded by clean laundry.

Jimin yanked his head out from between your legs, panting in satisfaction, diving back in to shove his tongue on your quivering hole and scoop out your orgasm, sucking it out to drink it, murmuring your name into your slick juices.

“You taste so fucking good, fuck…”

You came up for air, gasping, tongue lolling out, holding his cock and rubbing the slit against your wet muscle. His stiff length twitched, still hard because of your mouth.

“Take the picture, mmm, yes, did you forget?” Jimin gasped into your pussy.

You fumbled with your phone beside his leg, still reeling from orgasm and Jimin’s continued ministrations, putting it in selfie mode and seeing the lower half of your face, chin shiny with saliva, his cum dripping off your lower lip, his cock in front of your face and naked chest, your breasts pressed into his abs.

You thought about licking off the visible cum, but then you decided against it, snapping the photo with your tongue hovering close to his rock-hard erection.

You knew the composition of the inspirational dick pic now, so you brought it up in a photo editing app, putting the two side by side while wrapping your lips around the head of Jimin’s cock, sucking it leisurely like a lollipop. He didn’t ask you to get off.

Instead, he planted your pussy into his face and suffocated himself with it again.

You studied the two photos. Hm. Firstly, yours was much sexier. No offense to white t-shirt, blue jeans, and black boxer briefs guy, but your glistening cum-covered lips and squashed tits in the background of the cock made the photo eons better than his. Jimin would definitely be asking for yours later. Anyway, back to the picture. Hmm. Jimin’s dick was slightly shorter and straighter, with a warmer skin tone to his purple-red tip, although the head shape was spot on. Was that possible to have a different length but almost identical head shapes? Did dicks work that way? Did Jimin have an equally sexy twin brother or doppelganger somewhere?

Hm, a threesome with basically two Jimins would be hot as hell.

He patted your leg and you climbed off him, sighing as you rolled over and pursed your lips, concluding that his wasn’t the mystery dick. Once again, close, but no dick. Wait. That wasn’t the saying. Eh, whatever.

“Fuck, send me that photo later, I’m gonna jack off to it.”

You laughed, feeling him crawl beside you and roll you onto your stomach, pinning you down with his naked body. “You wanna jack it to your own dick?”

He was rubbing said dick into the crevice of your ass cheeks now, using your saliva was lube. “Fuck yeah I wanna jack it to my own dick with your lips covered with my cum and your titties on my stomach, sounds fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re such a pervert, Jimin.”

“And you aren’t?”

The front door slammed shut. There was a loud yell of your name in deep baritone.

“Aw, hell no, I’m getting it in this pussy first, I got time before he comes to collect,” Jimin growled, reaching into his discarded shorts and ripping open a condom, scrambling off you and rolling it down his still-hard length, grabbing one of your legs.

You shifted to your side, glaring at him. “What am I, taxes?”

The deep voice called your name again, asking where you were.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer though, because Jimin thrust into you and you ended up moaning Kim Taeyang’s name to inform him of your whereabouts, causing Jimin to bend over and fuck you hard and rough.

“I can’t believe you would moan his name like that with my dick inside you,” Jimin growled, looking far too cute to actually be pissed at you. “Gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be sore for him.”

Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was firmly fucking you into his floor and making you yelp as Taehyung burst the door open, sighing at the scene.

“Who would have fucking guessed what you two are doing…”

-

kim taehyung.

"You're so fucking stubborn."

"Wow, that's really rude, I don't make comments about your–"

"Shut up, I'm deleting his number."

You narrowed your eyes and frowned, sitting with one leg bent on Kim Taehyung's bed. He was currently in possession of your phone, clicking his tongue and pressing buttons on the screen.

"When someone tells you to leave them alone, you leave them alone," he scolded.

You cowered slightly, eyes shifting. "I was only asking if he was doing anything this weekend... I didn't have any ulterior motives..."

Taehyung squinted. You deliberately avoided his gaze. He sighed, crossing his arms. You were still wearing Jimin's shirt with nothing underneath so, uh, maybe he had good reason to be suspicious.

"You have a virgin kink."

You choked on nothing. "What, no, I don't–"

Taehyung reached over to his desk and put on the thin, gold-framed glasses he kept there. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. You abruptly stopped talking and gawked at him, breathless at the way his dark brown orbs were bordered by gold and his long, black-brown hair, the rest tied back in a small ponytail.

"And a glasses kink."

He took them off and you sucked in a tight breath, grimacing.

"That's why you keep going after these kinds of guys," Taehyung tutted, neatly folding the specs and placing them back on his desk. "And why you bonked Namjoon-hyung so fast, only to realize that he is not, in fact, a virgin."

"W-Well, he's still good..."

"Same reason why you got so excited when–"

"Look," you cut in, chopping the air with your hand, not letting Taehyung finish. His eyebrow seemed permanently raised. "I'm off my bullshit for now, no? I've got a mission–" You pointed to your phone and he held it out of your reach. You scowled and bounced back down into the bed. His eyes weren't following your face, but you ignored it. "–and I'll stop okay?"

Taehyung cocked his other eyebrow.

"Serious. You just deleted all the numbers except you and your friends, right?"

He turned the screen, thumb hovering over a certain number. Him and his friends were listed from one to seven, in order.

His thumb was over number seven.

"Don't," you whined. "Please, Tae."

His brows lowered, serious expression on his handsome face.

Then he smirked, dumping your phone on the bed.

"Silly girl," he drawled, crawling onto the bed, advancing towards you, sultry gaze and enchanting eyes making you forget about your device. "Why would I do that? He likes you so much."

You growled slightly, letting him push you down but not relenting. "That's really fucked up."

"That I wanna hear you say please?"

His hand lifted and cupped your chin, mischievous smile, unable to contain his pride for his little trick, sliding his leg between your thighs, tilting his head.

"Not just any please," he murmured, deep voice silky smooth, dark curled stands brushing against your cheeks he leaned in, hot exhale on your lips. "Your needy please when I threaten to take your precious Jungkookie from you."

You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his knee, tilting his head, highly amused at your narrowed eyes.

"You don't like it?" He was leaning down, feathery kisses on your lips and cheeks. "I know you like it when I tease you." His honey voice was dripping into the fire, turning into fuel that fed the sparks of arousal, your hands coming up to clutch his black shirt, pulling down the center zipper, his deep chuckle in your skin, hand from your chin sliding up to your hair, the other tapping down your front, grazing the thin t-shirt material.

"Don't..." you gasped, his deft touch toying with the hem. “Don't use the others against me. That's not fair...”

“Mmm, yeah?”

Drawing circles on your inner thigh with his nail, nicking the skin.

"You only want to think about me?"

Your phone hummed with a notification. Taehyung chuckled, fingers creeping closer and closer.

"Aw, I wonder who that is? But that's too bad, because you're all mine right now."

You gasped, clutching his open shirt as his fingers slid in, two because you were already wet, shallow breathing and lidded eyes telling him enough, taking your lips with his, pace slow and steady and maddening, spreading your legs with his knees, forcing you to tip your hips up to him in an embarrassing position.

Then again, embarrassment during sex wasn't part of your vocabulary.

You pushed his black shirt down one shoulder and reached in, your fingers snaking to the hem of the white undershirt and stroking his skin, his satisfied exhale hot against your neck, you remembering the way the water drenched the fabric and stuck it to his golden tan skin, playfully flexing his defined chest and biceps, adorable and arousing because Kim Taehyung was both. He separated his digits inside your pussy to create a loud, sharp, wet squelch. You heard him grin, smug at the dirty sound, then begin plunging his fingers in and out, in and out of the tightness, trying to be as noisy as possible. You clenched your core to make him work for it, force him to be rougher with you, his fingers curling in your hair, yanking firmly, lips on your ear.

"See, how can those boys you pick keep up with you, hm? They won't know what to do with your pretty, sexy self," he purred, faster, harder, pushing you to the edge with your heated moan and your hands all over his chest, lifting your hips to meet his touch. "You need us to take care of you, don't you?"

Fuck, the way Taehyung said your name.

Like it was a decadent sweet he was craving, a taste compared to no other.

Your head fell back into the pillows, breathing in his warm scent in shallow puffs, his name pouring out of your lips, yearning and desire.

"Mmmm, Taehyung...."

Melting you into it, sweet bliss and sharp jerks of your hips into his hand, gasping at the flood of euphoria, trying to squeeze your thighs around his hand and stopped by his open legs. Your throbbing pussy gripped his fingers and made him hiss, his devious smirk growing as you lowered your chin again to look into those dark eyes, shivering under his intense gaze.

“Let’s play a little game.”

His tongue slid out, lickings your lips lightly.

“It’s called, how many fingers can I stuff in you before you’re begging for my dick?”

“What kind of – oh, f-fuck!”

One more.

Aching tightness, clenching your jaw, trembling at the ease of it, Taehyung cocking an eyebrow.

“Ah, yeah, three’s too easy, huh? You already warmed up.”

One more.

“Fuck, Tae, fuck!”

His dark eyes glittering, pleased at your reaction.

“That’s better. That’s what I wanna hear.”

Whines in your throat as he picked up the pace, fast and hard, clutching his shirt and his side, your nails digging in, stretched out and stuffed with four, your eyes rolling back and one leg sliding up to hook around his waist, meeting each thrust, so deep, so full, so wet, loud and obvious and uncaring of who was listening – probably Jimin with a huge smirk on his face – panting Taehyung’s name over and over, feeling the strength in his hold and his grip in your hair, pulling lightly, shooting pricks of pain down your head to meet the oppressive pleasure brimming in your core, closer, closer.

“What do you want?” Taehyung growled, that deep voice dangerously low.

“Y-Your c-cock, p-please…” you managed to gasp out, chasing it, chasing the fullness and the depth.

“Can you take it? Can you take it like the good girl you are?”

“A-Ah, yes, please Tae, want it,” you moaned, your fingernails digging into his back, scratching down as your orgasm shattered through you, making your whole body shake and shiver from the intensity, him pulling out. Your moan turned into a hoarse whimper, squirming as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, spanking it and teasing it, rocketing you into peaks and valleys of cut-off ecstasy that drove you insane, clawing at his clothes, desperate for his body on yours.

“What’s your magic word?”

“Please.”

He grinned at you despaired tone.

“That’s it.”

It took no time at all, your shirt flung aside, Taehyung losing his clothes that were already half-off, hot body to hot body, heated kisses and rummaging in his nightstand drawer, groaning into his mouth as his cock slapped your thigh, hard and thick and ready, dripping pre-cum on you before he yanked you up on top of him, ripping open the condom.

“Work for it.”

Lacing your fingers in his, sliding down onto that impressive girth and gasping as it twitched inside you, rolling your hips down onto it, better than his fingers, bouncing on it with your tits following your rhythm, squeezing his hands. Taehyung liked this kind of intimacy, the kind where he was grinning like the devil under you but still holding your hands as you railed yourself with his dick, rough and hard with your own smug smile, a little erratic but somehow good that way.

He made you work for it and you were good at working for it.

You found a good rhythm and – ba dum tss – rode it, leaning forward to deepen the angle and make it last longer, pulsing around his length with your tight walls, control and power and endorphins, each smack adding to the lewd melody that mixed with heavy moans and shuddering gasps, bringing Taehyung on your rollercoaster, his hips rising, your name rumbling in his chest, blood thudding in your ears at the baritone depth.

“Yes, such a good girl, gonna make me cum, don’t you want me to cum for you?” he panted, fishing for the magic word, bouncing one of his dark brows, his long hair flared out on his pillows, high cheekbones and strong features no longer hidden by wayward strands.

Your tongue between your teeth, grinning wide.

“Yes, please.”

The right inflection of winded want, maybe a little mischievous, but Taehyung liked that, for there was no fun in someone who was too easy.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.”

He squeezed your hands and thrust his hips up fiercely, shock bolting from your core to your spine to your head, your head snapping back, gasp torn from your throat, flooding his crotch with your juices, overstimulated clit rubbing on the base of his cock and Taehyung was gone too, husky groan falling from his lips, slamming his hips up and locking his legs, shooting jerks of cum into the condom, aftershocks causing you to lose hold on your knees, moan pitching higher as you slipped down on his throbbing length, trapped on it because Taehyung wasn’t going to lower you until he was done, the head pulsing inside you, squeezed out by your shivering walls.

“T… Tae… the picture…”

“Ah… yeah… hold on… lay down for me…”

He wasn’t going to let you leave without his mark anyway.

“Serious?”

“Deadly.”

You laid back against the pillows, spent, holding your phone, Taehyung straddling your chest and stroking his slick cock, plops of cum and lube falling onto your chest, messy dark hair curling around his handsome face. You could see the purple-red head peek out from between his fingers, hear the steady slapping as he pumped it back to full hardness.

“Alright, let’s see.”

Your chest was rattling but you raised your phone, bringing up the picture as Taehyung gripped the base of his cock, lifting it up slightly to put it in position. You squinted at the screen, looking from the photo dick to the real one. Of course. He was definitely bigger, a little thicker, but strangely, the color was almost the same. Was that lightning or similar skin tone? Or perhaps men with really nice dicks just happened to have Taehyung’s tan complexion?

You wouldn’t question it if it was true.

“You’re bigger,” you sighed, tossing your phone aside.

Taehyung smirked proudly. “What a surprise.”

“We all knew that, even before I saw it.”

He chuckled, going back to fisting his cock. “That’s because Jimin has a big mouth and likes to spread rumors.”

“You like that he spends rumors.”

Taehyung shrugged, but his sly expression wouldn’t be hidden even as he shook his head to cover part of his face with his long brown hair, curtaining half of it with darkness, teasing and effortlessly sexy.

“Ready?”

“Mhm, do it.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, smiling wide, watching his breathing shallow and his eyes close, losing himself in it, faster and tighter, the wetness audible, strong thighs shuddering at your sides. Then he sucked in a breath, hissing your name and tipping forward, painting viscous white strings onto your collarbones and tits, pushing his shuddering cock up and down to spread it out, your clavicle now sticky and covered in his strong scent.

Taehyung ticked his head, lips in a devil’s smile, chest heaving with exertion.

“Your cum necklace is extra pretty today. Take a selfie for me so I can jack off to your cute face later.”

-

jeon jungkook.

“Jungkook?”

Jeon Jungkook shrieked your name like you were Michael Myers and he was Jamie Lee Curtis, flinging himself onto his computer monitor and mashing the power button to turn it off, his long purple hair flying everywhere, brown orbs like saucers, entire body shaking so bad that even his eyebrow piercing was vibrating.

He froze like that.

You blinked at him from the doorframe of his rented studio room, one hand on the knob and the other holding up your phone like a kitchen knife.

His leather bomber jacket was hung over the back of his rolling chair. The chair was currently slowly sliding across the floor, away from him and his panic. Jungkook was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and loose black jeans.

For a guy scared shitless, his pants were pitching a very impressive tent.

Had he been watching porn?

“Er… I knocked…?” you said slowly, pointing to the door. “Do you not hear me?”

“Um, uh, n-no,” Jungkook sputtered, looking you up and down. “No, I d-didn’t.”

“I said I was coming by today. Via text?”

“Was that today?” he echoed hollowly like a ghost in a shell, the end of his question pitching to a higher octave. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Ah. Sorry. I think I f… forgot…” He was not looking at your face, instead staring at your thighs and your shorts, tight and tiny, shredded black denim paired with a loose, long-sleeved black top that read in bold, white, graphic, letters...

REALITY SUCKS.

You pointed to the turned-off monitor.

"Were you watching porn?" you asked cheerfully.

Jungkook's ears turned red.

"Yes," he blurted.

Silence.

A bird cawed outside.

You nodded, closing the door. You tilted your head and locked it, just in case, before waltzing into Jungkook's film studio space, bouncing on the heels of your large black sneakers. "If you're gonna watch porn, you should lock the door. What were you watching? Is it lesbian porn again? Can I–?"

You reached over to turn the screen back on and Jungkook's tattooed hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from it and to him. You blinked rapidly, confused at his tight grip.

"N-No, you can't see. You can't," he sputtered, pinning you against his hard body.

You frowned, annoyed. "Why not? I like porn." You squirmed against him, but he sandwiched you between his forearms, forcing you to look up and face him, thinning your mouth into a line. He gulped, eyes shifting, holding your body against his. His lower lip trembled, mole underneath bouncing with his uncertainty.

"I... It wasn't porn..."

You stopped struggling, confused. "Huh?"

Those dark chocolate eyes found yours, looking guilty.

"I was looking at your pictures."

You blinked rapidly. "What?"

"You know... the ones I take of you sometimes... You said it was okay..."

Ah, yes. Jungkook liked to take pictures of you. He had mumbled that it was because he needed practice and, later in bed, he admitted it was because he considered you his muse, an inspiration of sorts, so would it be okay if, maybe, you just turned a little and laid in his covers just like... like that, yeah, could he take maybe one photo?

"Sure, knock yourself out, dude."

A bit later, far too late, you had realized that had been maybe too chill of a response, but Jungkook seemed to prefer that and he acted less awkward about it every other time he asked to take a picture. They weren't usually dirty pictures. Although you were naked in some of them, they weren't quite inappropriate, every single one framed with delicate, well-thought-out composition. You always sighed and told him he made you look better than you actually were.

Jungkook always insisted you were consistently beautiful.

You pointed between your bodies.

"Were you gonna get off to them or something?" you cheerily inquired, bumping against his pitched denim tent.

"N-No!"

His ears turned scarlet and he jerked sideways, but you held onto him, hands firmly on his hips, not letting him twist away. He quickly covered his ears and pouted at you.

"I was... I just missed you."

You smiled, squeezing his ass. "I missed you too, Jungkook."

Your tone was soft, gentle. He stilled and lowered his hands, lips parting at your words, slightly surprised, incredibly adorable.

His dick twitched in his pants and jabbed your crotch.

A pause.

Jungkook's eyes shifted to the side, mumbling under his breath. "And, yeah, okay, I got horny, but that's only because it's you..."

"That's great, since I definitely wanted to look at your dick as soon as possible!"

His eyes went wide.

You smiled widely.

Then he said something unexpected.

"Ow."

You looked down and backed up as Jungkook frowned and reached down to shift his rock-hard length in his pants, sighing in relief.

"Zipper was killing me..." he grumbled, running a hand through his purple hair.

"We should just take it off then."

"Pardon, we should wha–ah!"

You grabbed fistfuls of his black top and yanked it up and over his head, causing Jungkook to sputter in confusion, throwing his hands up as you unsheathed his muscular torso, leaning in, breathing on his skin, leaving him to untangle himself as your lips closed onto his dark nipple, tongue teasing the small nub.

"Ah, fuck!"

You lifted your lips, tongue still extended, looking up to see him flinging the shirt aside, his long purple hair messy and wild, tattooed arm and un-inked arm lifting, pushing his hair away from his face, his chest rising to your wet muscle, gasping. You had a clear view of that cute little mole under his lower lip, trembling with pleasure before Jungkook looked down at you, hazy chocolate orbs fanned by black lashes, breathing hard.

You ticked an eyebrow, licking slow circles, lips closing in again, sucking daintily.

He bit his lip and let it slowly tease out while you simultaneously teased him, your name leaving his lips in a low moan. You danced your fingertips up his thigh, nail tracing the seams of his jeans, kissing across his chest, his eyes following you, hips rocking into your touch, following your pace, letting you command it. His head tipped back as you kissed down his abs, whimpering with want, curling his fingers into fists.

Jungkook always made you feel like you were touching him for the first time.

"You're not a virgin?"

"No?" Jungkook had repeated after the first time you had fucked him, sounding confused. "I'm just like this? Is that bad?"

"W... well... no, and now that I think about it, you were suspiciously good..."

"You didn't like it?"

You had turned to look at him and, fuck, the way he looked at you, so cute and innocent, uh oh, and then the slightest hint of an open-mouthed smirk dancing on those shapely pink lips, reminding you of someone else.

"Namjoon-hyung said that's what you were into. Is he wrong?"

Voice so deep and so smooth, gliding over you like butter.

You almost hastily defended yourself but one look into those roguish, yet genuine, chocolate eyes and you couldn't lie.

"But... you should enjoy yourself too..."

Jungkook had grinned, endearing and heart-thuddingly handsome. "I do. I told you, this is how I am. You're just my type."

"And what's that?'"

He had pinned you back onto the bed, leaning in.

"Hot and horny."

Turns out.

Seemed to be a running theme with all eight of you.

Right now, his pants were falling and you were sliding up as your hand was sliding down, shushing him quietly, your other hand dancing up his neck and pulling his head down.

"Someone's gonna hear you," you whispered to his open lips, tone and touch implying you didn't give a shit who was listening, wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock the second he pushed his black boxer briefs down, his shivering moan tickling your cheek. His right hand came up to cradle your head and lean it against his, begging whines for you to move, pairing it with an irresistible, husky hiss of your name.

"Please..."

He liked it tight and he liked it rough, liked the way you could lock your fingers and keep that nearly suffocating pace, closing his eyes with a flutter and moaning into your skin, curtaining you with purple, his grip in your hair tightening as you built that speed, filling the rented studio with his silvery, erotic cries.

"Someone out there is going to think you're watching porn," you teased, nudging him with your nose, looping a finger back to smear the pre-cum over the swollen head. He bucked his hips into your hold, lips pressed to your cheek, intoxicated groan warming your skin.

"Kiss me and breathe into my mouth..."

You couldn't say no, not with his voice so soft and pleading like that, not with that edge of nervousness. Fuck, the way Jungkook succumbed to your kiss, uncontrollable tremors taking over his shoulders, hot taut skin twitching in your palm indicating he was close, and you almost broke away to say that he shouldn't cum like this, it'll be messy and get on the floor, but he grabbed your face and didn't let you go, whimpering in his throat, wordlessly telling you to do it, exhale into his throat and he groaned in his chest, long, drawn-out, consumed by lust, and maybe it was bad, but you loved it, loved the way he wanted it so bad, wanted you to push the air out of his lungs and suffocate his pulsating cock with your grip, pre-cum leaking between your fingers, finally pulling back and gasping, his lashes fluttering helplessly.

"G-Gonna cum, f-fuck!"

You had to think fast, looking down for a moment and feeling his cock jerk in your hand, swiftly switching to cupping the dark red head, thick white cum suddenly spurting your palm, Jungkook burying his face into your hair to muffle his wail, your scalp hot with his released exhale and your hand covered in his heated release.

You breathed in, smirking at the scent of dirty gratification.

"Jungkook..."

He whined softly, hips quivering as you covered his jerking length with your cum-covered hand, spreading it all over and getting him hard again.

"There's this picture..."

"Mmm, yeah, the h-hyungs told me... don't stop..."

You swung your hips from side to side, free hand running down his chest, your eyes roaming his toned body, his tattooed arm still hovering over your head, long fingers tangled in your hair still, squatting down and opening your mouth, tongue dancing out and licking your hand and the side of his purple-red length, wet sloppy kisses, slurping up his cum and moaning on the throbbing head, making sure that he could feel the sinful heat.

"Give me... oooh, fuck, give me your phone..."

Your hand left his abs reluctantly, tugging your phone out of your ass pocket and holding it up for him as your mouth closed around his cock, swallowing it all, eyes closing, cramming all of him until the head hit your inner throat and your lips pressed against his crotch, knees on the tile floor, thighs spread, hands poised in the air, unable to breathe.

Click.

You cracked open one eye to see Jungkook holding your phone above your head, teasing smirk on his shapely lips, mole winking at you.

“For me?” he asked, not quite innocent.

It was the first time Jungkook had taken an actual dirty picture.

You shrugged as if to say, sure, pulling back as he turned the phone around, the dick in question on the screen. You eased off his length, licking it clean, bringing up your wet hand covered in his cum, popping your lips off the engorged tip and sliding your fingers in your wet lips, tongue wriggling between your fingers, inspecting the two dicks. Jungkook was still hard – so hard that his cock was sticking straight out, almost mimicking the photo. You had to crouch a little more, tilting your head and placing your fingertips on his balls, raising his dick a little on the back of your hand, smearing saliva and pre-cum on your skin.

Yon continued to lick, grazing the underside of his length with your tongue and then pulling back, eyes going from the photo to the real thing.

Jungkook moaned above you, clutching your phone tightly, knuckles white under black tattoos.

Hm.

You tilted your head.

One way.

Then the other.

Hmmm?

Hmmmmmmm.

“W… What?” Jungkook stuttered above you.

You pursed your lips at the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over it and sucking off the pre-cum. He gasped, hips shaking, threatening to shove it into your lips.

“It doesn’t look like your dick at all.”

“What?” He sounded startled.

You pointed with your dry hand. “The shape is a little off, you’re longer and slightly bigger, and the color is different.” You sighed, whooshing hot air over his soaked, taut skin, Jungkook whimpering. You squinted slightly.

“Still…”

You tapped your lips with his cock, thinking.

“I think he wears the same underwear brand as you.”

“He does?” Jungkook squeaked, spinning the phone around and blinking at it.

You shrugged. “And for some reason, the position of his hips reminds me of you. I don’t know why…”

He chewed his lower lip, staring at the phone.

“Oh well.”

You stood up abruptly at your words and plucked the phone out of his hand, putting it on his desk.

“If it’s not you, it’s not you. Let’s fuck.”

Jungkook yelped as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began stripping off your clothes.

That was his reaction that one time you lost strip poker to Kim Seokjin and him at that one party, not that your cared because you didn’t bother learning the rules. You had other priorities and they involved getting mostly naked and then pinning Seokjin down to make out with him as Jungkook gawked at the other side of the table, half-clothed, clutching his cards.

“I can… go…?” he had sputtered.

You surfaced from Seokjin’s plush lips, his hands around your bare waist, the taller man gasping for air, reeling from your kiss.

“I still have one more piece of clothing to go, Jungkook.”

Side of your lower lip between your teeth, cocking an eyebrow, swaying your panty-covered ass at those huge brown eyes.

“You can help, you know.”

Fun night.

His eyes were huge now too, your back against the wall and him rolling the condom down, lifting your leg and sliding into you, gasping at your tightness, leaning down to kiss you again, greedy and ravenous, his hips jerking upwards, forcing you on tiptoe. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into that soft skin and strong muscle.

“F-Fuck me, Jungkook, mmm, fuck, yes…”

You didn’t really get to talk during that strip poker night because your mouth was full of Seokjin’s dick as Jungkook’s pounded you from behind, but it would be a crime to complain about such things.

You met your hips to his to deepen his thrust, enjoying his strength, powerful and steady, fucking you against the wall, wet slaps and soft moans filling the room between harsh kisses, lips swelling from the fervor, your ass even rhythmically smacking into the wall, but neither of you cared, your leg around his slim waist and his right arm wrapped around it, his fingers digging into your thigh, black tattoos and tan skin gleaming from sweat, his other hand clutching a fistful of your ass and ramming your drenched pussy down on his stiff cock, grinning at your soft cry of his name, staring into his eyes and not looking away, spellbound by chocolate orbs framed by wispy strands of purple.

“You always feel so fucking good…”

You pulsed around him, feeding the fire, wanton exhales mixing, dick pic forgotten.

-

“Hah…”

You rolled over, sighing loudly.

“Haaaaaaah…”

“You still fixated on that dick?” a deep, unimpressed voice said next to you.

You frowned and planted your phone with the inspirational dick on your face, praying for it to come to life and choke you.

“I never found out who it was…” you mumbled.

“Well, it is Saturday night. We can go crash a party and maybe you can find that dick!” exclaimed a joyful voice, poking your side. Your phone slid off your face and clattered to the floor. A cheerful hand covered in colorful clay rings waved at you and your gaze shifted to Jung Hoseok and his blond and pink hair. He was too cute and you were unable to help yourself as you looked at him, matching his heart-shaped smile.

“Nah,” you tutted. “If it’s not one of you guys… the dick isn’t worth it.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, long and with longing.

“If it makes you feel better, we don’t know who it is either.”

You laughed hearing Kim Namjoon’s deep, serious voice. “How would you guys find out?”

“I know a lot of things,” Park Jimin’s angelic, light voice chirped.

“Too many things,” Kim Taehyung’s baritone voice remarked coolly.

“Are you gonna eat that slice of pizza, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hyung, I am, no, stop–”

“Give Seokjinnie-hyung a bite!”

“Over my dead body!”

“Then you’re dead to me, boy! Respect your elders!”

You heard some slapping and flailing about, but didn’t open your eyes.

“He’s probably not a virgin anyway. Virgins don’t snap pics like that on strangers’ phones.”

You cracked an eye open and narrowed it at the form laying on the ground beside you. Min Yoongi was messing with his phone. His head was on a huge pillow that he wasn’t sharing. He seemed to notice your glare and turned his head to raise a lazy eyebrow at you, cat-like eyes shrouded by black hair.

“Isn’t that what you’re into?” he taunted.

Your eye twitched.

You growled, sitting up. “I’m not into virgins, damnnit! I just like listening to people who are knowledgeable about their interests, like how Namjoon goes on about human philosophy, and how Seokjin never shuts up about MapleStory, and like how you talk about music theory. Just because I don’t understand right away doesn’t mean I don’t try,” you snapped, prodding Yoongi’s firm pecs through his t-shirt. He didn’t move, completely unbothered as you continued your tirade. “I don’t know anything about TikTok, but I like listening to Hoseok talk about the latest dance and fashion trends. Jimin’s the only reason I don’t make an ass of myself at parties because he knows everything about everyone so I don’t accidentally sit in a taken person’s lap and cause trouble. Taehyung’s always following that animal rescue Instagram and giving me cool facts about all these different creatures. Jungkook can go on for hours about cameras. I still don’t think I even know how to work the aperture function on DSLRs, but as long as he will continue to explain, I’ll listen.”

You sucked in a deep breath and seethed.

“So what’s the difference?”

“What?” you scowled.

Yoongi shrugged casually.

“Why do you keep chasing dorks with glasses struggling to get stupid graduate degrees when the people you spend the most time with are here with you right now, ready to fuck you at any time?”

“That’s–”

Your words died in your throat, Yoongi’s words finally sinking in.

Silence.

“Hyung, I’m struggling to get a grad degree…” Namjoon cut in, but the black-haired man on the floor lifted a finger and sliced the air, quieting him instantly. Yoongi was watching you carefully, head tilting at your frozen state. Your brain seemed to have ceased function. His lips curved into a slow, open-mouthed smirk.

Yoongi dropped the bomb on you.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit suspicious that the dick had elements from all of ours, but never quite matched up?”

W… What?

Your head whipped to your fallen phone and you scrambled with it, bringing up the dick pic again. The photo showed up at the party with the wet t-shirt contest. Your phone has disappeared for two hours during said party. Everyone was drunk. No. Everyone had gotten drunk after your phone had mysteriously been found and returned to you. You spent the night in various laps doing various naughty things, not bothering to check your phone after retrieving it, leaving it as a later you problem. You filed through your memories, recalling their faces as you showed each and every one of them the photo.

Hold on.

“Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, almost as if…”

They weren’t as weirded out as one might be, seeing some random dick on your phone.

As if…

“As if one of us is good at photo manipulation, perhaps,” Yoongi purred.

As if they had expected to see such a photo.

Click.

You whipped your head to the left and a whirlwind of dark purple hair went flying under the coffee table, hiding behind broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and full lips forming an ‘o’. At the same time, the realization hit you like a falling piano from the sky.

“Did you all…” you choked, mechanically jerking from face to face, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and lastly, back at Seokjin because Jungkook was cowering behind him, large brown doe eyes behind a massive shoulder. “D-Did you all…?”

No way.

“Did you all take a dick pic and Photoshop them together into one superdick photo and PLANT IT ON MY PHONE?!”

One look at those seven faces and…

YUP.

Taehyung laughed, loud and rich, nudging Namjoon with his elbow. “Told you she wouldn’t check the details of the photo and realize it was from an outside source.”

You started and swiped around. The file name was close enough to your camera photos’ file names, but upon closer inspection…

“Oh my God…”

“She’s very easily distracted by dick,” Hoseok chuckled, infectious grin on his face.

“I am not!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Jimin, do not whip out your dick.”

You heard your name being called softly and looked up, clutching your phone, still stunned and flabbergasted that you had been lusting after a fake dick that was a fuckin’ Megazord of the seven dicks currently surrounding you and those seven were the very dicks that tricked you!

On purpose!

For what?

FOR FUN!

(GG, no re)

They got you good.

Your irritation immediately dissipated when your eyes found those anxious chocolate ones, long purple strands curling around his cheek, curious open mouth with the small mole underneath barely visible.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked quietly, pink lips curving into an irresistible pout.

Oh.

Shit.

Before you could quickly say, no, of course not, Jungkook, it was funny, I’m not mad at all, you felt a dark presence by your shoulder, raspy chuckle by your ear, sending shivers down your spine, whispering your name, devious and smokey.

“Whose idea do you think it was?” Yoongi murmured.

You stared into chocolate eyes.

Innocent.

Or…?

Jungkook’s pout disappeared.

His dark eyebrow cocked, mischievous smirk gracing those irresistible lips. No, not just him. Lowered lids and midnight blue hair, smug expression with a dimple. Kim Namjoon. Lifted chin, looking down at you with a sheepish yet wicked smile on full lips. Kim Seokjin. The black head of hair leaning his chin on your shoulder, laugh like a seductive purr. Min Yoongi. Tilted head balanced on long fingers decorated with colorful rings and bracelets, sly heart-shaped smile. Jung Hoseok. Shit-eating grin fanned by red hair, bouncing a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Park Jimin. Long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, spare strands framing a moody, handsome face with a glint of playful cunning. Kim Taehyung.

And then, Jeon Jungkook.

“The hyungs thought it was a great idea,” he drawled, silvery and sweet, looking extremely pleased with himself, running his tattooed hand through his purple hair, unquestionably guilty, but despairingly angelic in appearance.

These fucking…. Seven Kings of Duality!

You were positively fuming.

Silence.

An owl hooted outside the window.

“YOU PUNKS!”

You threw yourself over the coffee table and horny chaos ensued.

-

2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble 2021.10.02 - Namjoon birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 14 - Haunt [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: It’s always difficult to keep secrets.

Series Masterlist

Well then.

Apparently this was how civilians dated.

You couldn’t exactly say you were very familiar with it. Your line of work didn’t exactly allow you to date and do normal couple stuff, let alone with a civilian. Spies were easier, you didn’t trust them and you knew they didn’t trust you.

Except for missions, you didn’t have any date nights unless they included going after targets.

That was why posing as a civilian was almost a relief. It was simpler, more fun, more peaceful-

Even happier.

“What do you mean you can’t give me a clue?” you asked, “It’s date night, you’re supposed to give me a clue. Those are the rules.”

“I don’t remember any rule like that.”

You slurped on the milkshake, dangling your legs back and forth on the high seat you were perched on.

“Well, how am I supposed to know what to wear then?”

Bucky tilted his head, eyeing your uniform with a grin on his face and you slapped at his arm playfully.

“Are you serious?”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender. “I said nothing.”

“I refuse to believe you find this uniform hot.”

“Why?”

“Bucky, just look at this!”

“Believe it or not I’ve been looking at it for some time now.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re so full of it.”

“Oh trust me darling, I’m completely sincere.”

You raised your brows, “How?”

He heaved a sigh and looked like he was considering whether he should tell you or not while you waited patiently.

“When we were—“ he licked his lips, “When—uh, back in the 40s, one of my buddies, he had this poster on the wall of the barrack we were staying in.”

You gawked at him, “A poster of…?”

“A pin up.”

“In this uniform?”

“Almost the same, yeah.”

You let out a clear laugh, “Oh my God, that’s why you reacted like that when you first saw me in this?”

The tips of his ears went pink before he dragged his gaze from yours and you awwed.

“Then it’s only fair if I ask you to return the favor and dress up from 40s.”

“As if you know any—“

“Clark Gable.” You cut him off and scrunched up your face, “Was that too quick?”

“A little, yeah,” he said, “Do you want to try again?”

“….Yes please.”

“As if you know anyone from those times.”

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, “I’m just pulling this idea out of thin air, but Clark Gable.”

“I don’t think I can pull off that mustache, Y/N.”

“I mean have you tried?” you asked, narrowing your eyes and he shook his head.

“Stop imagining me with that mustache.”

“You would look good!” you insisted, grinning mischievously and he heaved a sigh.

“Clark Gable? Seriously?”

“Bucky, I’m the one who’s dressed up like a pin up your buddies used to fantasize about, so I feel like you should give me some credit here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Why thank you,” you pointed out, “So? Where are we going?”

“You can ask as much as you want,” Bucky grinned, “It’s not going to work.”

You threw your head back, letting out a whine. “But I want to know!” you said, “Okay, is it inside or outside?”

“Outside.”

“A concert!”

“Not a concert.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “…Flea market. You’re taking me to the flea market.”

He pulled his brows together, confusion written all over his face, “You think we used to go to flea markets on a date?”

“Picnic!”

“In the evening?” he asked and you pouted.

“It would be a romantic evening picnic.”

“Do you want to have a romantic evening picnic?”

You shook your head fervently, “I want whatever you have planned!”

“Nah, I’m putting romantic evening picnic on the list.”

“You have a list?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yep.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.”

You huffed out, making him laugh, “Aw, you’re adorable when you’re frustrated.”

“Bucky!” you whined again, making his smile bigger.

“Yes darling?”

“It’s not fair,” you insisted but before you could say anything else, you heard Tara’s voice.

“Hey lovebirds,” she said, “I hate to interrupt because you two make a beautiful couple, but your break is almost over and I’m going to need some help at the freezer.”

Bucky’s body tensed up beside yours but only for a second, and you pressed your lips together.

Right. Freezer probably didn’t bring up good memories.

“I can help if you want?” Bucky said slowly and you shook your head.

“Nope. Company policy, only staff can go in.” You leaned in to peck him on the lips, “What time will you pick me up?”

“Around 8:30.” He stole another kiss from you and stood up, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight!”

“Have a nice day Tara.”

“You too Romeo,” Tara said as he left the shop and you followed her to the freezer.

“He is so whipped,” she commented, making you grin, “And so are you.”

Your jaw dropped, “Hey!” you said as you helped her with the chocolate milkshake container, “Not nice!”

“I can already picture how cute your children will be.”

You almost dropped the container at the mention but managed to catch it and pull yourself together.

“Oh I don’t think…” you trailed off, trying to ignore the pang at the pit of your stomach, “I don’t think he wants—um, I don’t think we—“

“Aw you really are cute,” Tara said, “Come on now. Are you telling me you never thought about a future with him?”

The image that flashed in front of your eyes was almost taunting you but you bit inside your cheek, then shook your head.

“My last relationship ended really badly,” you explained, “And Bucky has had a rough couple of….”

Decades.

“Years,” you said, “And everything is pretty complicated, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Well, do you want it to be possible?”

You pushed your hair back and grabbed the nearest set of jars to put them on the shelf one by one, just so you could keep yourself busy.

“It doesn’t really matter what I want,” you heard yourself say, “It won’t make any difference in the future either.”

                                         ***

“A funfair,” Chloe looked up with a bright smile on her face as soon as you jumped up to sit on her desk. “He’s taking you to a funfair.”

“Wait, really?” you let out a laugh, “Oh that’s cute.”

“Who knew The Winter Soldier could be romantic?” she said, “I’d probably swoon if someone took me to a funfair.”

You could swear Keith appeared out of thin air behind you, “What?”

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed and pressed a hand over your chest, “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Who’s swooning?”

“Barnes is taking Y/N to a funfair,” Chloe said, “Isn’t that romantic?”

“You find funfairs romantic?”

“Yeah!”

“Keith,” you raised your brows, “Aren’t you busy?”

“Nope, General is talking to Julian so I’m not busy at all.”

You heaved a sigh, “My meeting with him lasted like an hour, how did he let you go so fast?”

“Easy. I’m not the team leader.”

You sipped your coffee, crossing your legs and Keith grinned.

“So, did you tell her yet?”

Chloe frowned, “Did she tell me what yet?”

“Why Barnes stayed over at your place until midnight last night?”

“Y/N!” Chloe gasped, “You promised we would go lingerie shopping before you slept with him!”

“First of all, I didn’t sleep with him, and second of all, Keith nosey neighbor much?”

“It’s literally my job Y/N.”

“What happened?” Chloe asked, barely able to sit straight as Julian walked past you three to check his laptop on an empty desk near Chloe’s. You gritted your teeth, and turned to Chloe.

“Hm?”

“You have to tell us!” she said and Keith laughed.

“At least give us a base.”

“Second base?” Chloe offered and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Julian clenching his jaw.

“Nah no way,” Keith said, “The guy hasn’t been getting laid since what? 40s? Third base.”

No bases. None at all, Bucky was a gentleman and seeing that you were quite shaken up last night, he had just held you while you two watched that ridiculous action movie until you could calm down a little.

He hadn’t even asked any questions.

“Do you think he—“

“Y/N,” Julian’s voice cut through Chloe’s, “Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”

You pulled your brows together, “About what?”

“The mission.”

You eyed him up and down, then shrugged your shoulders and made your way to the nearest empty room, which happened to be a meeting room. He followed you inside and closed the door behind him as you turned around to look at him, already dreading this conversation.

“So?”

“So General agrees with me.”

Your head shot up, “I beg your pardon?”

“He agrees that it was quick thinking on my part when Barnes walked in on us arguing,” he said, making you grit your teeth, “Granted it wasn’t idea, but we can turn it around to work on our advantage—“

“Bullshit,” you cut him off, “Are you serious?”

“To repeat, an ex-boyfriend creates an environment of competition,” he said, making you scrunch up your nose in distaste.

“Unbelievable,” you said, “You know, just because General doesn’t see through this whole façade doesn’t mean you fool everyone else in here.”

“What façade?”

“Oh give me a break!” you let out a humorless laugh, “This whole teammate trying to be helpful bullshit. You don’t think anyone but yourself, you’ve proven you can’t be trusted and you want to take over this mission.”

“I couldn’t take over this mission if I tried,” he pointed out “I’m not Barnes’ type.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh look at you, you got jokes now.”

“Just saying, I wouldn’t look as cute in that uniform.”

“Fuck you.”

“Y/N—“

“You’re not taking over my mission.”

“I’m not trying to take over your mission,” he explained patiently, “I’m trying to help you, is that so hard to believe?”

“I think we both know you couldn’t care less about me,” you said, “As that last mission proved.”

The amused, taunting light in his eyes was dimmed in a second as he gawked at you, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What?” he asked after a beat, “You think I don’t care about you?”

You let out a laugh, “I’m sorry, is that a trick question?” you asked, “You sure as hell didn’t care back then.”

He ran a hand over his face, “I think you and I remember that last mission quite differently,” he said, “I did what I had to do—“

“Uh huh.”

“I thought you would do the same,” he insisted, “Y/N, I was trying to get us out of there, just because I beat you to it—“

“I would never!” you snapped at him and he shook his head.

“Have you ever thought maybe that’s a problem?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Why do you think the General put me into this mission?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Are we going to pretend you’re here to do something else other than spying on me and reporting it back?”

“No, that’s not my mission,” he said, “I’m here to make sure you don’t do what you always do.”

“What, nailing the mission?”

“Running headfirst into danger,” he said, “You ran into world’s most dangerous assassin whom you’re playing the honeypot for, and any other spy would get the fuck out of there but what did you do? You taunted him. Twice.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but I know Bucky better than you or the General—“

“You mean the Winter Soldier?”

“…Yeah,” you corrected yourself, “Yeah I know the Winter Soldier better than you two do. Better than anyone here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “I don’t know who told you otherwise, but not your every decision is right on missions. You keep taking unnecessary risks because you think it’s fun.”

“Maybe. But hey, at least I don’t leave people to die.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked and he closed his eyes for a moment as if it was way too difficult for him to hear and opened them again.

“I didn’t leave you to die, Y/N.”

You scoffed, “Alright,” you said, walking to the door, “We’re done here—“

“Are you sleeping with him?”

Your hand on the doorknob froze and you looked over your shoulder, “I’m sorry?”

“Are you sleeping with Barnes?”

“Who wants to know?” you asked, “You or the General?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah. If it’s you, I can ask why it’s any of your business.”

He shifted his weight, suddenly dragging his gaze from yours.

“I just…” he murmured, “I don’t like it.”

You paused for a moment, trying to wrap your head around the idea before you clicked your tongue.

“Well that’s a relief,” you stated, “I don’t give a fuck what you like.”

With that, you swung open the door and left the meeting room, not even looking back once.

                                    ***

In your defense, when you went to bed for a nap you didn’t think that 15 minute nap would turn into a whole two hours. You were still groggy by the time you woke up and your hair was a mess and you still had no idea what to wear and—

You were starving and way too thirsty.

You stretched out as you walked to the kitchen, still trying to pull yourself together but it was already dark outside so it was making things even worse. You flipped the switch and opened the fridge to grab the water bottle, uncapping it and taking big gulps. After you were done, you took out two slices of bread and peanut butter and jam, then quickly made a sandwich to take a bite. Leaning back, you let out a sigh and eyed the gun on the table.

You had a feeling the General would send you on another night mission soon.

You took another bite of your sandwich but your head shot up when you heard the doorbell ring and you almost dropped the water bottle but caught it mid-air.

“Shit…” you whispered and grabbed the gun to put it in the kitchen cabinet, and placed the sandwich on the plate, then made your way to the door to open it.

A fond smile pulled at Bucky’s lips as soon as he took in your disheveled appearance, “Hello there Dracula.”

“I’m so sorry,” you tried to fix your hair, “I…I was taking a nap and then I didn’t hear my alarm and—“

“Don’t worry about it darling,” he said, “You look beautiful.”

“I look like a mess,” you corrected him, scrunching up your nose and stepped aside so that he could walk in. He pulled you closer to peck you on the lips.

“Hi.”

“Hi back,” you smiled up at him and made your way to the kitchen with him following you suit.

“I’m just going to finish this and then I’ll get ready in like ten minutes, promise!”

“Not a problem,” he said as you jumped up to sit on the counter, dangling your legs, “If you want to stay in tonight—“

“No no!” you interrupted him, “I want to go to…um, wherever it is we’re going. Do you want some?” you held up the sandwich, “I could make you one too.”

Bucky stepped closer to you to take a bite of your sandwich, making you giggle.

“I mean do you want your own?”

“You’re not good with sharing?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, still smiling as he put his palms on the counter either side of your legs, caging you in.

“No?”

“Nuh uh.” You said, then leaned in to peck him on the lips again before you pulled back to take a bite out of your sandwich.

“How was your day?” you asked, and he heaved a sigh.

“Mm, uneventful.”

“Uneventful can be a nice change.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah I mean…at least your ex doesn’t show up out of nowhere,” you paused for a moment, “Or in your case, doesn’t escape from nursing home.”

He chuckled, his thumbs caressing the soft skin of your legs, making you distracted for a moment as the warmth filled you again.

“Did he visit you again?”

You tried to focus and looked up at him, “Hm?”

“Julian.”

“Oh,” you made a face and shook your head, “No. No but something tells me that wasn’t the last time I saw him.”

“Really?” he said, “I still feel like the next time he shows up you should let me know so that I can—“

“I already know what you’re going to say, and no.”

“What was I going to say?”

“Some macho showdown nonsense,” you said with a laugh, “Seriously. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” he said with a sigh, “But the guy said and I quote, he would take you away from me, so forgive me if I want to have a talk with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “No one is taking anyone from anyone,” you said, “Number one, we don’t live in Stone Age. Number two, I’m quite happy with who I am dating now.”

A small smile curled his lips, “Are you?”

“I mean,” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “I would be happier if my date told me where we’re going but can’t win ‘em all.”

You pressed a kiss on his cheek and jumped down.

“Okay, I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes, knock yourself out,” you said, “There’s beer in the fridge if you want.”

“Thanks,” he said and you walked to your bedroom to open your closet, then grabbed a dress and put it on. After quickly doing your make up, you found the lipstick you were looking for and started applying it.

“Darling do you have a bottle opener?”

“Yes, it’s in the kitchen cabinet!” you called out and checked your reflection in the mirror before your mind caught up to what you had just said. Panic crashed into you, knocking the breath out of you and you dropped the lipstick to rush to the kitchen.

“Bucky wait—“ you started but as soon as you saw the open cabinet, your stomach dropped. He looked at you over his shoulder with a frown on his face, then turned around and held up your gun, making you swallow thickly.

“So,” he said, his gaze pinning you to your spot. “Anything you would like to tell me?”

Chapter 15

[subwaysurf45]

Back Into the Swing of Things

summary: Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war)

words:  3355

warning: legit none just fluff!

pairing: bucky x reader

Masterlist

You were sat at the little desk in your room, your music was blasting through your headphones as you nodded your head to the beat. It was paperwork day, the worst day. For some reason it was a busy time or missions which meant mission reports, you liked to just bang them out all at once for one day every couple of weeks. Some people did them right after but the little notes you take in your journal allow you to wait a bit and then do five at once. The plate that used to have a sandwich was now empty, Bucky brought it by because he knew it was your day and if he stayed around you it would most likely lead to Bucky trying to pull you into bed for snuggles. He’d claim you’d look too cozy to be doing work, you'd wear one of his shirts and maybe some pants.

With a sigh you lean back in your chair, a couple pops coming for your back. “Four outta five…” you muttered to yourself as you took the papers and stacked them on the other reports. As you reached for the final one there was a knock on the door, “come in, Bucky.” You called over your shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Bucky slipped through the doorway, he walked over and spun your chair around.

“Your knock is very polite,” was all you said. It was true, he’d knock loud enough to be heard but not too loud to seem demanding.

“Thanks…?” Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, “I wanted to ask you something,” Bucky looked to the floor.

“Talk to me,” You cheered and gave your full attention.

“I have a list of things in my notebook, just stuff I don't get- like understand. Would you mind helping and explaining some stuff?” His face was red and his eyes looked down, it was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

“Sure,” You shrugged and Bucky smiled. He got up and went to get the book.

Debit Card Machine 

Bucky was sitting across from you at a small diner, you went after rush hour to give yourself space and also Bucky doesn’t like crowded and loud spaces. Bucky had gotten a B.L.T. and you got something similar but you’d never been here before so you weren’t exactly sure what was in it- but it was good.

The waitress came by, the uniform was very retro like the rest of the place. It wasn’t way back to the 40’s more late 80’s early 90’s, Bucky had said he liked coming here because of the jukebox even though that was way past his time. He found it easier than an iphone, which was on his list of things to learn.

“Coffee or tea?” the lady asked.

“No, just the bill please,” You smiled at her, she nodded and walked away. Bucky got up and moved to sit beside you because he didn’t want to learn by looking at the thing upside down, the debit card itself was slightly conquered territory but he had the idea.

“And you said this was on your phone as well?” Bucky picked up the card and looked at it, his fingers running over the numbers that were lifted.

“You have to connect your card and all that to your phone so you just hover over the machine and it’ll pay.” You mimed the action of paying with your phone over nothing for Bucky to get the gist.

The machine showed up and you explained all the buttons, the waitress seemed confused because Bucky looked your age, she would have expected a guy to know how this works but she also kept her distance like most waitresses do.

“So you put your card in, the chip end goes in,” you showed. “Then you make sure the price matches the one on the receipt, if it does then you hit ‘ok’,” you did hit ‘ok’. “Then you have to tip, I personally go the percentage route so I’d click the far left button,” It made a sound when you did. “Now, depending on the service you can tip a different amount, I go fifteen percent as a baseline but she was really nice so I’ll tip twenty.” you typed it in, Bucky had a shocked face.

“Twenty dollars, that’s another meal!” He whispered, trying not to let the lady hear; she did.

“Twenty percent, our total goes from eighteen-tirty to twenty-forty five,” You showed the number again, then you clicked okay and proceeded to type in your four digit number. Bucky watched over your shoulder and tried to remember it all, when you were showing things at home he’d take notes and have a couple diagrams to remember it all but his notebook was no longer in sight. You glanced down after giving the machine back to see him rolling the book onto itself under the table, Bucky shoved it into his back pocket when you both got up to leave.

“Do you mind going over it again when we get home?” Bucky asked as he held your hand, the Avenger tower in sight.

“Of course,” you left a little kiss on his cheek.

Cooking Bacon

You didn’t remember reading this when you first went over the list. Granted, there was tons of stuff on Bucky’s list. It seemed he added it on later, like he watched Wanda cook and had a little idea to add. Either way, you both were in the kitchen in front of the stove. You both had aprons on, yours was a nice navy blue while Bucky’s read: ‘kiss the cook’. He wanted the navy one but then lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.

The pan was heating up on the stove, you had the lid ready beside it on the counter. Bucky seemed nervous because of the idea of the grease spitting out at him, he was starting to stand slightly behind you or away from the stove in an area he thought he wouldn’t get hit. “Alright,” you clapped your hands together after feeling over the pan to check the temperature. “We are gonna cook four pieces, so I’m gonna take them out of the package,” You were careful around the stove because Bucky seemed extremely nervous for you. He kept making little ‘peep’ing noises like he was about to say ‘watch out’ or something but decided against it, it was cute.

You put in two and then Bucky came over to put the others in, he was so leaned back he could barely get the bacon strips into the pan. On the last strip he haphazardly dropped it in, this caused the grease to spray back. A couple bits landed on your arm but a few more hit Bucky.

“Fuck!” He jumped back as you went to cover it quickly. The lid steamed up in seconds. Bucky was at the sink, washing his arm off. “Does it, like, burn through stuff?”  His tone was so concerned but you couldn't help but laugh at the question.

“No, you’re safe,” you nodded. Bucky came back over and stood right behind you, his chin nestled on your shoulder as you waited a bit. His arms circled around your torso and he also watched the pan, he didn’t know what to look for per se, but he did it anyways. “This should be good,” you stepped forward which caused Bucky to let go. “We’re gonna lift the lid and start to flip them, alright?” You grabbed the tongs and clicked them a few times, it was a thing you always did.

“Let’s go,” Bucky’s voice wanted to sound excited but he was slightly scared.

You lifted the lid and stood off to the side, quickly but calmly you flipped the pieces over and then covered the lid. “So, we give that time, then we'll take the lid off and just move them around and flip them more, you can do that,” You smiled over your shoulder to see Bucky writing something down. It was cute how much he cared about the little things, you’d never been taught how to cook bacon or cooking in general, it was something you just found yourself doing.

Bucky took the tongs and went for it, he lifted the lid and went straight into flipping them. After he found they weren’t spitting back he seemed to loosen up, his shoulders rolled back and he seemed to find a comfortable position. He was looking over to you for any tips but you stood there with a smile on your face, he was actually doing a good job.

You got out a plate and paper towel, Bucky transferred the strips over. He watched you pat them down with a paper towel, this was something you adopted into your life because you weren’t the biggest fan of all the grease.

“This is a big part, so listen up,” Bucky looked over from eating one of his two pieces. “Write this down, never and I mean never pour this grease down the sink- ever.” Bucky had the piece of meat sticking out of his mouth as he scribbled it down, he hummed and nodded to let you know he got it. “There is a can under the sink, grab it for me, please?” You picked up the pan but stayed over the stove, Bucky came back with an open can. There was nothing in it except congealed grease, he seemed grossed out but you were used to it. “Dump it in here after it’s cool but not solidified, just don’t pour it down the sink.” You poured the stuff in and left it on the counter to cool off, Bucky finally bit down on the piece of bacon before handing over your two pieces.

“I think that went well,” Bucky nodded, he leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. You didn’t have to heart to make fun of him for being scared of the grease, he seemed proud of himself. So you just stood beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, “good job, Buck.”

Skin Care

Bucky was the type of boyfriend to sit in the bathroom and just watch you put on or take off your makeup, he was truly put under a trance when he would watch you. In the beginning he’d ask questions or ask what you were doing and why, but now he had watched you so much he’d pass you the tube of mascara as you finished on your brows.

Your skin had adapted to a long and specific routine, this was your time for about ten minutes before bed to fully unwind and have some quiet. You would rotate products and skip over some of the serums each night but there were the basics you were going to teach Bucky: Wash, tone, moisturize.

Before you went to the drug store you asked Bucky about his skin, he really had no idea what you were talking about and half the time he’d shrug it off. “I don’t pay attention to my skin,” was a common phrase. You lightly touched his face and felt his T-zone, he joked that sometimes if he opened his mouth really wide his skin would feel super tight and dry.

“So then you have dry skin,” you said. Thinking of the products to get him, Bucky didn’t have acne, it was more for cleaning the skin and keeping it healthy.

“I think,” Bucky really felt like a pain. He was trying to help you out so you could find good products but all he was giving was half answers, ‘ya, I guess’ or ‘I think so’.

But currently you both were standing in the bathroom, it was right before bed and Bucky adjusted his headband for about the hundredth time. He said it was too tight but you knew he was being a baby about it, his hair was also pulled back into a bun.

“We are gonna wash our face,” You showed how warm the water should be before splashing your face. Bucky copied right after, and awkwardly leaned forward to make sure water didn’t drip on the floor after while he waited for you to move on. “Now we are gonna wash our face, so take that bottle with the blue cap and put a bit in your hand. A little goes a long way,” You added and did the same, both faces in the bathroom were sudsy and ready. Bucky went in first to wash it off, his hands cupping under the tap and collecting as much water as he could before leaning right in to wash off his face. He did it twice.

“Pat dry?” He remembered you saying that before. His hands held the fresh towel, you hummed in response because your face was in water. Bucky patted and gently rubbed around, when you stood up you dried off as well. Both faces were damp, Bucky looked at the little water droplets running down your neck before turning back to the task at hand. “Toner- don't tell me, I know this one!” He grabbed your arm, “red cap?” His face lit up with joy as you nodded, “I got this!” He cockily laughed, he knew what he was doing.

Bucky took the little cotton round and drizzled some of the toner around on it, he passed one over to you before making one for himself. Bucky leaned in and got super close to the mirror, he watched intently as you rubbed your face. He copied, it was like the cotton pad was barely touching his face. The last thing he cleaned was his nose before pulling the cotton away, he scanned over the pad and saw the gross residue.

“Ew, that was on my face?” Bucky was enchanted by the pad, holding it super close to see the leftover dirt. You had already thrown away the pad, it made you giggle to see Bucky so hypnotized by literal oil and dirt.

“Moisturizer, final step for you,” You sang. “I like to pick it up with my knuckle, like this,” You unscrewed the lid and tapped your pointer finger knuckle to the opaque, soft cream. Bucky took his new one and did the same. He wiped it into the palm of the opposite hand, “rub it around, heat it up before putting it on,” He did just that. “You’re a pro, Buck!” You giggled as Bucky meticulously put it on. He was applying it upwards and spreading it evenly around, his fingers gently dancing across his face as the cream worked its way in.

“How do I look?” He turned to you.

“Like you’re glowing.”

“I feel like it,” Bucky laughed and looked back at the mirror. He tilted his head around to see how his skin would look under the light in the bathroom, he seemed to forget you were there and was completely in awe of what he did. Bucky brought his fingers to his face to feel around, the moisturizer had set and now his skin looked full and plump. The pads of his fingers gently tapped his cheeks and made the shimmer on his cheekbones move and twinkle.

“Alright, that’s enough admiring yourself,” you laughed and pushed him out of the way. Bucky stayed to watch you finish up your routine.

Record Player

As a way to say thanks for helping Bucky with over fifty niche things, Bucky decided to teach you how to properly use a record player.

This wasn’t any old player, this was Bucky’s player. No one was allowed to touch it without permission and even though you have never gotten the green light, you asked almost every week. This was one of the only things Bucky could really hold onto, when he touched the dark, stained wood he could almost see himself back in the 40’s; almost.

He once got really mad at the beginning of your friendship, you really didn’t know it was his, you just thought it was a talking piece. Bucky ended up yelling at you, he had just changed the needle and you were running your finger on it to see how small it was. Steve had ran in because Bucky was yelling- it was a whole ordeal that ended with Bucky not talking to you for three months.

But now there was trust and Bucky liked that after that little fiasco you didn’t even think to touch it, he could really trust you and now was a great time to show off his favourite thing. Bucky was all giddy to show his record player off to you, you were grabbing some water before he started and you noticed Bucky was using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe off a smudge before going back to inspect it.

“Alright, let’s start!” Bucky smiled. This man didn’t start with the parts and what they do, he started with the history of it all. Bucky pulled all the facts he knew about record players in general and the vintage one that was sitting in front of the both of you, his eyes seemed to light up with each new fact that popped into his mind. Part of you wanted to check your watch but you also had never seen this man get passionate over an object before, he could get passionate over people- you, Steve, Sam, etc. -but never over this. “Are you ready to play music?” He reached over into his bin and pulled a record you’ve never seen.

“Which one’s that?” You asked as Bucky pulled it out of it’s sleeve.

“It’s just a random one I picked up a week ago for this,” Bucky held the record the proper way. “Thumb on the center and index on the edge, don’t touch the actual grooves because the oils in your hands can clog them up,” Bucky moved his hand around to show you.

“Sorry, what do you mean you bought that record for this? And why does the needle look different?” you noticed the needle looked extremely worn, it looked great and new a couple days ago.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky dismissed it. “So now we are gonna place the record softly,” Bucky placed it down and turned back to you. He talked about the arm and the needle before showing you how to put it on manually and then with the little leaver, after showing them each way twice he stepped back and offered you a turn.

“Seems easy,” you mumbled and took the arm, you were doing it manually first. The movements were extremely soft and slow, when the needle made contact it took half a second before a really grainy sound came through the speakers. It sounded wrong but Bucky nodded, he applauded you for taking the needle off as well. Then you did it with the leaver, right when it was about to touch you thought it looked off so you nudged it a bit- bad idea. The needle didn’t even hit the record and part of the arm scratched the recessed vinyl. “Shit!” You yelled and ripped it off. Causing the record to scratch, the sound and the record itself, there was a shine to the edge. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mess it all up- I really didn’t mean to break it- god, you must so ma- I’m sorry-” as you fumbled over yourself Bucky just started to laugh. “What?” you were about to cry because of the guilt.

“That was a sixties record and a needle that is five years old, you didn't do anything. I bought it because I knew this was bound to happen.” Bucky only laughed at your exasperated sigh, you fell into his hug like a child. “Poor baby,” he mockingly cooed, he found it so funny how you were screaming apologies at him even though it was painfully obvious it was a shit record and needle.

“That was scary, I think I need a nap after that…” you sighed.

Bucky threw you over his shoulder, “thinking the same thing, doll.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 24}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the late post! My baby shower was today, so Tara and I have been extremely busy! Look for Chapter 25 on her blog on Monday!

Warning: 18+ content.

Cassian got to the restaurant and took a look around. There were people everywhere, bustling about, getting ready for the night’s grand opening.

It had become the talk of the town - and the local groups on the internet - so they were expecting a good turnout.

At least, that’s what Cassian’s guess was.

He hadn’t talked to Nesta since he stormed out two days before, with the exception of one text exchange.

Cassian had texted, Tell Nyx I love him and I will see him tomorrow.

Nesta had replied, Ok.

Now, he was searching for that tiny little man with a mop of dark, black hair.

When he finally found Nyx, he was in his stroller eating cheeto puffs off the tray. When he saw Cassian his eyes lit up and he was instantly reaching for him.

Cassian laughed as he unbuckled him from his stroller and picked him up, giving him the biggest hugs. “Hey, buddy. I missed you, too.”

“This is his third helping of cheetos,” Helion said, from where he leaned against the wall. “Sorry about the next diaper.”

Cassian chuckled. “All this going on and Nesta stuck you on baby duty?”

Even saying her name out loud hurt, but he didn’t let it show.

He gestured toward the kitchen and said, “She’s been here since six and she’s in one of her moods. I decided I’d rather be on baby duty than caught in the crossfire.”

He winced, figuring that didn’t bode well for the two of them today. “I’ll stay in the bar, then.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Helion replied, looking him up and down, before pushing the stroller behind the counter. Cassian had the distinct feeling he was looking for a crack in his armor. He didn’t bother telling him that he’d been broken for two days, and the only person who could fix him was currently yelling at some poor employee in the kitchen.

Cass crossed the threshold into the bar area and let out a low whistle. He’d had a hand in the design, but most of this was all Nesta. It accented the restaurant perfectly and he immediately loved the place.

“Nice, right?”

He turned to find Kallias carrying a tray of fresh glasses from the dish area and the smile on his friend’s face was infectious.

Cassian nodded as Kallias said hello to Nyx. “Yeah, it looks amazing.”

Kallias nodded. “You and Nesta did good.”

“Thanks,” Cassian muttered, not wanting the conversation to go any further. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here,” Kallias said, as Nyx started playing with the strings on Cassian’s hoodie. “Viv will be here soon to help out. She said she can watch Nyx while we work.”

Cassian nodded. “That would be great.”

It would be helpful, of course, to have Viviane help out watching Nyx. Cassian had a ton to get done in the next six hours before the opening began. He didn’t want to let Nyx go, though. Two days. It was the longest he had been away from Nyx since...everything happened.

“Well, little man, until then, you get to help me unpack liquor bottles,” Cassian said, trying his best to sound excited.

Nyx giggled. “Ba ba ba ba ba ba.”

“Yeah, different kind of bottles,” Cassian chuckled, and carried Nyx with him into the back room.

Kallias had been at the bar for the past two days, getting most of the stock ready to go. A few texts to explain the situation was all he’d needed and Cassian was thankful he had such a loyal friend and coworker.

Elain hadn’t been as understanding the first night he’d been there, but after talking to Nesta, even she backed off. He had no clue what Nesta had said to her, but her frustration turned to sympathy and she was back to treating Cassian like the brother-in-law she loved and not like a man who’d hurt her sister.

After pulling the carrier out of Nyx’s stroller, he strapped the baby to his chest and set to work, carrying case after case of liquor up to the bar. Kallias was busy stocking the assorted glasses they’d need, so the two worked in silence for the most part.

He had just walked back into the store room, short one case of whiskey, when he heard Nesta talking from the dry pantry separating the store room and kitchen. Cassian’s heart lurched and he was about to make his way back into the bar, but Nyx squealed as he heard her voice.

The swinging door flew open as Nesta hurried into the store room, wondering how Nyx had gotten in there in the first place. She froze when she found Cassian there. Their eyes locked and she blinked.

“Hey, Nes,” he said, quietly.

“I…didn’t know you were here,” she breathed.

He shrugged, turning back to the boxes of bottles. “Got here about an hour ago. Didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Nyx was reaching for her, so he unclipped the carrier and gave him to her. He giggled happily as soon as he was in Nesta’s arms, but she froze, unsure of what to say. “You should have let me know you were here.”

Another shrug. “You were busy, and I knew what I needed to do. Kal said Viv would be here later to watch him.”

She nodded, silence filling the space again.

Nyx pointed at Cassian, reaching for him. “Dada.”

Cassian stilled.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth.

A second passed.

Then, at last, he said, “What did he just say?”

“Dada,” Nyx repeated, and clapped his hands together. He reached for Cassian. “Dada!”

Cassian took Nyx, although he was moving slowly, stunned into silence. Nesta watched as a thousand different emotions crossed his face.

“Dada?” Cassian breathed, looking from Nyx to Nesta. “He just called me-.”

“He’s been saying it for the past two days,” Nesta said, staring at a spot on the wall behind Cassian.

For a moment, Cassian didn’t say anything, but then he asked, “You didn’t bother to tell me that?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed and she slowly met his gaze. “You left.”

“A simple text letting me know that Nyx said his first word wouldn’t’ve killed you,” Cassian snapped. “Especially since his first word was…” Cassian shook his head, that fury fading as quickly as it had come. He looked at Nyx and chuckled, softly. “Dada, hmm?”

“Dada,” Nyx said, taking Cassian’s face into his hands before patting his stubbled cheeks with his chubby little palms.

Cassian watched Nyx for a moment, chuckling softly, before asking Nesta, “Has he said anything else?”

Nesta shook her head, even though Cassian wasn’t looking at her. “Just that. Probably wondering where you were. He’s been saying it nonstop, after all.”

“I’m sorry, bud,” he said, softly. He kissed the top of his head. “I’m still right here though.”

He was about to buckle him back into the carrier when Nesta reached for him. “I can take him. You’ve got a lot to do.”

“No more than you,” he said, settling him back into the carrier. “And I’ve missed him. Viv will come see Kallias when she gets here. Let me keep him.”

Her hands fell to her sides. “Fine.”

The tiny room felt like it was closing in on him, looking at her. They were so close together, whether they wanted to be or not. Without another word, Cassian grabbed the closest box and shouldered his way back through the swinging door.

Kallias caught the look on his face as soon as he came back. “That must have been the first conversation you two have had.”

Cassian grunted in response, letting Nyx continue to pat at his face.

“And how’d it go?” He asked, leaning against the bar.

“About as well as you think.”

Kallias watched his old friend for a moment before nodding, deciding to let the conversation drop. Cassian was grateful for it.

He was thankful for Nyx, too, for an endless amount of reasons, but right now, he was a distraction. With Nyx here, he was only thinking about Nyx, not about Nesta.

Cassian spent the next couple of hours lining up liquor bottles, and when Viv got there, she happily took Nyx and let Cassian work.

Once Nyx began playing with Viviane, Cassian’s thoughts were once again on the last person he wanted to be thinking about.

He continued to work, trying his best to keep his mind on that. It was kind of hard, though, when the owner of the restaurant was Nesta. He guessed he was part owner now, too - owner of the bar, anyway.

The hours flew by and by the time Cassian decided to check his watch, he realized he only had thirty minutes until the doors were opening for the main event.

He needed to get out of his old hoodie and into something nicer.

After making his way into the stockroom, he pulled off his hoodie before digging into his backpack for the black henley he’d brought. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but it was sure better than his ripped hoodie.

The door swung open as he was pulling his shirt over his head, and when he turned around, he saw Nesta, once again.

She stilled just in front of the door. “Are you planning on being in here every time I come in?”

It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood, Cassian knew, but the light didn’t exactly reach her eyes.

He looked down at his shirt. “Just had to change. Didn’t think a hoodie was appropriate for an opening celebration.”

Nesta nodded, giving him a forced smile. “Couldn’t have gone all out with a button down?”

“This is Azriel’s,” he said. “All of my nicer things are at…home.”

He said the last word hesitantly.

Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut. He knew she was dying to say something, but what it was he couldn’t tell. He thought he knew her well enough to read her face. It seemed he was wrong though.

“I’ll come by and get my things on my day off this week,” he said, saving her the request. He pulled the Henley over his head, leaving his backpack against the store room wall. “You won’t even know I was there.”

“Cassian…”

He pushed back through the door without waiting to hear what she was going to say.

This was agony. Every moment of being around her hurt, because every time he saw her, he knew that he’d wasted the past three months of his life. He’d wasted his time falling in love with her, because she still hadn’t said it back.

“Dada!”

Nyx and Viv sat at one of the new tables, Nyx munching on some crackers, and even Kallias’ eyes dragged to him. Nyx’s blue eyes were the only ones he cared about though.

“That’s new,” Kallias said, from where he leaned across the bar.

Nyx’s new favorite word was one of the few things that had made him smile all day. Even if it tore him apart at the same time.

He didn’t mind Nyx calling him that. He was still too young to understand what had happened to Rhys. So one day, he’d explain to him who he really was, and who Rhys was. But until then, he was content to be Dada.

Cassian lifted him out of the high chair he was in and smiled, wistfully. “Hey, buddy.”

On the other side of the room, Nesta pushed through the double doors and into the restaurant, making sure everything was in order as the clock ticked down.

Cassian couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

He wondered if she knew.

*

This was the biggest night that Nesta had in quite some time. A new bar would be amazing for business, and she was expecting a hell of a crowd.

And she wasn’t disappointed.

At exactly six, people began to pour in. They sat, and they ate, and by the Mother, they drank. She was amazed at how well Nyx was doing. She kept expecting to see him sleeping in a corner with Viviane, but he was being passed around to Viv, Kallias, Helion, and Cassian, having the time of his little life.

Nesta was glad someone was enjoying their night.

She should be enjoying her night, should be pumped at the booming business, but she could hardly focus.

All she could think about was him.

Cassian.

Every time she even got a glimpse of him, she wanted to run into his arms and tell him that she loved him. But she couldn’t do that. She had no clue what the repercussions of their relationship would do to Nyx, especially if something were to happen. If they were to break up, would this be their future? Barely speaking, passing the kid back and forth, both of them in misery?

Even when Elain and Azriel got there, both giving her hugs and warm smiles, the one on her face wasn’t real. She knew Elain could tell, knew she wanted to pull her aside, get the whole story, and quite possibly talk some sense into her, but she wouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

Not tonight.

As much as she tried to spend most of her time in the dining room, greeting guests and asking how they liked the drinks and new menu items, she kept ending up in the kitchen.

She got word that there had been a small grease fire on the line and she was about to rush into the kitchen when Helion stepped in front of her.

“Take a breath.”

“I can’t,” she replied, pulling her hair back off of her face. “There was a fire and-.”

“And it’s under control,” he said, gripping her by the shoulders. “It’s been put out, and I can go deal with Emrys and Luca and any potential fallout. Go have a drink, relax with your sister. You deserve a glass of wine and a moment to sit down.”

Nesta hesitated, but Helion wasn’t having it.

“Go,” he said. “Kallias is currently manning the bar. Go order a drink before the next wave of people come along.”

With a huff, Nesta nodded and exited the kitchen. True to Helion’s word, it was Kallias that was behind the bar. The second he saw Nesta coming, he was pouring a glass of wine.

She took a sip as soon as she reached the counter. “Vodka.”

Kallias blinked, then obliged her. He poured her a shot, Nesta downed it and thanked him, then took her glass of wine around the room to greet people. She eventually found Elain and Azriel, and was getting ready to take a seat by them, until she noticed Cassian already sitting with them, Nyx in his lap.

Bypassing their table, she gave them both an apologetic smile, before redirecting herself towards the bar. She breezed past it and Kallias, draining her wine and leaving it by the sink, before she entered the store room.

Cassian must have handed the baby off to Elain or Viviane, because not even a few seconds later, he was right behind her.

“Is this how it’s gonna be, Nes?” He asked, not stopping until he was right in front of her. “Are we just going to avoid each other, unless Nyx is concerned?”

The door hadn’t even finished swinging shut, but she noticed Kallias stacking a few boxes in front of the door.

For all intents and purposes, do not enter.

Their first night working together and already a fight. She couldn’t blame his frustration, this was all her fault.

“It hurts to see you,” she breathed. “It hurts to see you because I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“You don’t know what the hell is going on?” He asked, incredulously. “I don’t know what the hell is going on! You’re so-.” His words fell away and his eyes shut as he rubbed his temples.

Nesta arched a brow. “I’m so what?”

“Infuriating,” he said, and met her eyes with a pained expression that knocked the breath out of Nesta. “It hurts for you to see me? It kills me to see you, but you know what? That’s on you. I wasn’t the one that started questioning everything. And you want to know what’s ironic? You’re pushing me away because you’re afraid it won’t work out. But, it’s not working now, Nesta. In pushing me away, you made what you’re worried about a reality.” He shook his head, slowly. “What the hell is the point of that?”

Nesta didn’t say anything. Her jaw locked and she refused to break his gaze, no matter how much it tortured her.

“It’s better for it to happen now rather than later,” she said, and hated herself for it the second the words left her. “It’s better for it to end before it really begins.”

Cassian chuckled, humorlessly, and shook his head. “That's bullshit and you know it. It already began, Nesta.”

He took a step toward her, and in such a small room, it left very little space between them.

Nestas breath hitched, and judging by the way Cassian’s eyes flared, he definitely noticed.

“Tell me you don’t care about me, and it’s done. We’ll pretend these past few weeks never happened, and we can move on,” he whispered, and she could feel his breath fan over her face. “Tell me this all meant nothing to you, and it’s over.”

Her eyes flashed down to his lips before meeting his own. “I can’t do that.”

Cassian wasn’t sure who moved first. If he grabbed her face or if she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, but before he knew what was happening, he had her back pressed against the store room wall. Gods, it had only been a few days, but kissing her again, the feel of her lips on his, it felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe.

Her hands were clawing at his back and he found her thighs, lifting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He hadn’t even noticed she’d changed into a loose, sundress but thanks to her own wardrobe change, there was very little fabric between them as she let go of him to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans.

There were no words necessary, not when they both needed the other as badly as they did.

Their lips never broke, that contact remained, hungrily, needily, as Nesta pulled Cassian’s cock out and, moving the thin scrap of fabric beneath her dress aside, he pushed himself up into her.

Nesta moaned into his mouth at the feeling of him filling her. He bit her lip, and that moan deepened as he began to thrust deep inside of her, over and over again.

There was no foreplay.

Foreplay wasn’t necessary, not this time.

Two days, two nights, had been far too long when they had become so accustomed to this same ritual every night, time and time again.

Cassian’s head fell back as he fucked her, relentlessly, then he met her lustful gaze. His forehead fell against hers as he slowed his pace. With a soft, reverent curse, Cassian breathed her name.

She clung to him, the smell and taste and feel of him making her feel far more drunk than the wine or liquor had. Nesta buried her face in his neck, trying to cover the sounds tumbling from her.

He captured her lips again, knowing her body better than his own at this point, and thrust into her as hard as he could.

The bottles on the shelves rattled gently, but he didn’t care if anyone could hear them in the bar. He didn’t care if anyone caught them. All he cared about was that he was deep inside of her, listening to the quiet whimpers and moans that she couldn’t stop.

There was no way she could walk away from this.

Not just from the sex. Which, yeah, was incredible, but there was more to it than that.

Their souls were connected, which is what made the sex so mindblowingly phenomonal.

It was more than just sex.

It was something that Cassian swore no one else had ever witnessed before. Or, maybe they had. Maybe this is what it felt like when you found the person you were meant to spend forever with.

No, Nesta couldn’t walk away from this.

He swore, hoped, prayed she couldn’t.

He wanted to say those little words. Wanted to tell her, so desperately, that he loved her, but he didn’t.

He just kept saying her name over and over and over again with every thrust of his hips.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“Nesta,” he breathed, and she cried out as her legs began to shake around him. He cursed, his fingers digging into her thighs as his body flooded with the need to explode.

As soon as her release slammed into her, he met his own, her name a groan as he spilled into her. They stayed like that for a moment, him still buried inside her, even as his seed started to drip down her legs. Thankfully, the sound of the party out front had covered any and all noises they’d made. Her breathing was still uneven as he pulled out, and he pulled that ripped hoodie from his backpack and silently used it to clean her up.

Tossing it back towards his bag, not caring if it made it inside or not, he paused in front of her, and tried to tilt her face up to his.

She refused.

He breathed, “Look at me, Nes…”

She shook her head, and damn him if those weren’t tears starting to spill down her cheeks.

He gripped her chin, forcing her eyes up to meet his. “Damn it, Nesta, talk to me. Just talk to me and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think you need to go,” she breathed.

He hesitated. “What?”

“You need to go,” she repeated, but there was no bite in her voice.

Cassian took her face in his hands and brought her eyes to his. “I’m not leaving. Not after that.”

“Go,” she repeated, and another tear slid free. “Go, Cass, please.”

He shook his head, fury, frustration, utter misery filling his core. He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Damn it, Nesta! What do you want?!”

“For you to leave,” she hissed.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Cassian snapped. “You say you can’t tell me that you never cared, you fuck me in a damned store room, then you ask me to leave?”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

“I’m making this harder?” he asked, breathlessly, unable to stop his darkened laughter. He looked away from her and sucked in his bottom lip.

A moment passed, and Cassian refused to meet her gaze. “I don’t get it,” he said, at last. “I don’t get it. I don’t know what you want. I don’t know what you want from me.” His words were coming out rushed, frazzled. “Know what? Fine. If this is the way you want it, this is the way it is. I’ll be at Elain’s and Azriel’s tonight, and I’m taking Nyx with me. I’ll bring him by tomorrow, when Viviane is there.”

With that, he was gone.

And Nesta was left alone, her hands flying over her mouth as she sobbed, still able to feel the soft, tender, alluring feeling of his lips on hers.

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)