#i'm just figuring out where i want to start now-

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 AND WHEN I'M BACK IN YOKOHAMA

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with the team sent to escort you back to the port mafia headquarters obliterated, you're on your own in a war-torn yokohama. or, well, you are until mori sends out the infamous double black to retrieve you... you almost wish he would've let you suffer out there alone.

wordcount: 10k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, mentions of mafia business

AUTHOR'S NOTES: at last, we get the first meeting between pm!reader & double black. keep your eye out for two other cameos in this fic ;) i can't remember if dazai and chuuya got their moniker before or during the dragon's head conflict and i dont feel like going to go figure it out so for the sake of my sanity, their little duo started rising in infamy just before the conflict broke out.

“Oh, this is the worst,” you complain quietly, arms wrapped around your waist as you look up and down the abandoned street.

The city looks nothing short of apocalyptic with dead bodies littering the ground and buildings caved in. You can’t help but want to blow up at Mori for calling you back to Yokohama with all of this happening. The “elite squad” he had sent to ensure you arrived at the Port Mafia base safely had been all but decimated by an ability user with a penchant for arson—you only survived by the skin of your teeth, running as fast as you could down vaguely familiar alleys until you finally lost him. 

You pull out your phone, trying to see if you can call Mori but only fall further into despair when you find that you have no cell service and your phone is nearly dead.

Tucking your phone back in your pocket, you let out a shaky breath as you begin to make your way down the street again, trying to figure out where exactly you are so you can get to the base as soon as possible. It’s only a matter of time before that pyromaniac finds you and your ability isn’t exactly built for self-defense or combat—you’re not sure if you can get yours activated before you’re roasted to death by the man.

You swallow thickly, anxiety beginning to spread through you as you make your way through rubble down the street. What happened? It’s all too reminiscent of that day eight years ago when Mori found you, the death and destruction as far as the eye could see—it drags up emotions you’ve long since repressed and now is not the time for it.

You’d been unable to get answers out of Mori’s men before the ability user attacked your convoy, but it seems as if the city has become a warzone—but over what? How hasn’t it reached the news outlets yet? And who are the combatants? Obviously, the Port Mafia is one of them, and you can guess that Mori called you back to Yokohama because the war isn’t falling in their favor, but who the hell is strong enough to compete with the Port Mafia, and why? 

You sigh, kicking absently at a small rock as you continue down the street. 

You should have been briefed. You don’t know why you weren’t briefed before being called back to the city. Frustrated, you turn down a somewhat familiar alley and lean against the wall, resting your head back against the bricks. You need to figure out what’s going on, but more importantly, you need to figure out where the hell you are so you can get back into safe territory.

You peek your head out to peer around the road—not a soul in sight in the streets, but… your gaze flickers up to the buildings, sliding from window to window until you catch sight of a figure peeking from between the blinds down to where you’re standing in the alleyway. Instantly, they let the blinds fall shut and throw themselves back indoors, but it’s too late—you’ve already spotted them.

You let out a breath of relief, looking both ways to make sure the fire manipulator hasn’t caught up to you yet before darting across the street to the building. It’s an apartment complex—the door leading into it has been half knocked off its hinges, so it’s easy to push it open and step inside.

The whole hallway has been ravaged, doors on the lower floors kicked in to reveal trashed rooms. You have to be careful not to step on glass as you make your way to the stairwell, Third floor, fifth window from the right. Most of the doors on the third floor aren’t quite as done in as the ones on the first, but only one has light peeking out from the crack.

You exhale, letting your eyes slide shut briefly before you raise your fist to knock on the door. “Excuse me! Would you mind answering a few questions? … I just arrived in the area, got caught in the crossfire of some battle, I would really appreciate the help, if you can spare any.” You’re careful to keep your voice light, gentle, and you’re even more careful to make sure your expression is smooth and unassuming when you hear the lock click open.

“You picked a god-awful time to come to Yokohama, child.” You hear an older woman speaking on the other side of the door; she doesn’t open it yet, but now that it’s cracked, you think your ability will work quickly to make her at ease. “Not one of ‘em Strain decoys, are you?” 

The fact that you have no idea what she means by that is infuriating, a reminder that Mori didn’t even bother to warn you about anything before dragging you back here, but you don’t let your frustration seep onto your face.

Strain… Strain… That Australian organization? What the hell are they doing in Yokohama? Why have you been kept so in the dark?

“No ma’am, unfortunately, I don’t even know what you mean by that,” you admit, and when you hear the woman let out a heavy sigh, you know that you’ve won, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as she opens the door to let you in. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

The woman only grumbles, but her eyes are gentle and her wrinkled face is soft as she ushers you into the room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. She’s not alone in the apartment, you notice—there’s a teen boy around your age lingering in the hallway, blonde hair cut short and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose as he studies you with a frown. 

“What are you doing out here on your own, girl?” the elderly woman asks as she wobbles after you into the main room of the apartment, ushering you to sit down. “Doppo, go get the poor girl some water. Stop acting like a lump, boy.”

The boy looks disgruntled but nods, scampering off into the kitchen as the woman turns her attention back toward you. “Well? Don’t you know? Yokohama’s no place for tourists lately. Where are your parents?”

Your smile falters, mind racing as you try to pick your words carefully. “My father is the one who told me to come back to the city. I was… not made aware of the circumstances I would be arriving in.”

“Men,” the elderly woman spits out, looking up as the boy, Doppo, returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you and one to the woman. “Take notes, boy, you better not end up like one of those useless wastes of air or I’ll put you down myself, understand?” 

“Yes, granny,” the boy replies, and though he still looks distinctly aggrieved, you can’t help but feel amused by the fact that he immediately pulls out a notebook to take notes.

“Would you mind telling me what exactly… happened to the city?” you ask after a moment, taking a sip of the cool water and trying to make yourself a bit more comfortable on the sofa. “I haven’t seen anything on the news about this.”

The woman scoffs, waving her hand. “Of course not, big whigs think that they can keep it all on the low and get it under control before the incident makes it across seas,” she says roughly. “Gang wars broke out after some bastard with a lot of money died. Came in from all over to try to get their hands on the money. Whole city’s being torn apart.”

Interesting, you think to yourself, mind racing as you put together the few puzzle pieces you’ve been given. How many factions are already here? Who are they? Why did Mori call you back here if it’s already escalated this much? Your ability might be key in intel gathering and negotiations, but you’d be useless in combat.

“Our ward is under the control of some organization called the Strain,” the boy tells you. “They’ve been targeting civilians. They-”

Doppo grimaces and looks away, an angry expression crossing his face and you watch as the elderly woman reaches out to squeeze his forearm before looking back over to you. “Boy’s mother was killed by them the night the conflict broke out. I’ve been looking after him since.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say quietly, but he only averts his gaze from you, looking down at the ground. 

Strain. You were right. You’ve heard a lot of them. They originated in the Australian underground, but they spread rapidly throughout the world—footholds in every major country, stakes in every major world event. Brutal and ambitious, you suppose you’re not surprised they came here if there’s as much money up for grabs as the woman assumes. 

“What ward are you trying to get to, girl?” the woman asks you. “It’s not safe out there on your own. There are no rules or laws anymore, whole city is anarchic. You go out there on your own and you’ll be picked off by Strain.”

“I need to get to my father,” you tell her as you shake your head. The Port Mafia must be in an especially precarious position if Mori is bringing you back after the conflict has escalated this much—your heart rate spikes as worst-case scenarios start to fly through your head, wondering if they’ve been backed into a corner, forced into a position where their only option is negotiations for surrender. Logically, you know Mori would never let that happen, but it doesn’t quell the rising fear. “He’s in Naka-ku.”

You just need to know what ward you’re in and-

“You’re in Kanagawa-ku right now, you’ll never make it through it and Nishi-ku—and Naka-ku is the heart of the conflict,” the woman says as she clicks her tongue. “Stay here. You’ll be safer.”

“I need to get to my father,” you repeat again, “but thank you, really, for the offer and concern… and for helping me figure out what’s going on. I appreciate it.”

You rise to your feet to leave, and instantly, the boy is on his feet, nearly knocking over the woman’s cup of water and promptly getting whacked with a rag in response. The boy winces but takes a few steps toward you, undeterred. 

“You can’t go out there,” he says, green eyes pleading for you to listen. “Just stay. Once everything’s calmed down, we can help you find your father.”

“I can’t stay,” you say quietly, wondering if Doppo’s desperation for you to stay is a result of your ability messing with his head or if he really does just have that big of a heart. You think as a thank you for their help, that you’ll ensure that Yokohama will become Strain’s grave.

The old woman makes another disparaging comment about ungrateful fathers before nodding at you. “Good luck, girl, be careful out there.”

You make it approximately seven blocks before the ability user that you thought you lost catches up to you. You think that if you die here, you’re going to spend the entire rest of Mori’s life terrorizing him as a ghost. You grimace as a wave of flames sweeps above you, you can feel the heat against the top of your head from where you’re using an abandoned car to shield you from the man, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he gets to you.

Shit, you sigh, eyes flitting around the street trying to figure out if there’s anywhere you can dart to, but the only other rubble you could hide behind is a tipped-over dumpster in an alley twenty yards away—you’ll never make it that far without something to shield you from the flames. 

You blame Mori. Again. He should’ve warned you about what you’re walking into, and he should’ve sent more than just a group of second-rate losers to pick you up from the station knowing how bad the city is. Now, you’re going to get roasted alive by some psychotic pyromaniac when you should be back in Kyoto dealing with the more pleasant parts of business—wining and dining elites to strike deals and expand the Mafia’s influence throughout all of the societal spheres of Japan.

You grimace as you steady your gun in front of you, using the broken side-view mirror of the car you’re hiding behind to try to figure out where the ability user is because if you can get one good shot off you’d at least have enough time to make a break for it. You just need to focus—the Colonel didn’t put you through all of that firearms training just for you to choke up when you actually need to use it.

Your gaze tracks the man as soon as he comes within view of the mirror. You breathe in and out steadily—once, twice, three times. He’s fumbling with a walkie-talkie, distracted, and you don’t hesitate before taking the given chance. You twist into a kneeling position to face where he’s standing, raising both arms as you aim the gun in his direction; he catches your movement from the corner of his eye, expression shifting into one of anger, but you fire off three bullets before he can retaliate.

Or so you thought.

Your lips part in shock as the man whips a fireball in your direction before he hits the ground—even if you do evade it in time, it’s stronger than the rest he’s been throwing at you, it’ll blow right through the car you’re using as a barrier.

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to take a step back but your ankle catches on a stray piece of rubble. You hit the ground hard, pain shooting up your leg and as you brace yourself for the flames, you squeeze your eyes shut.

But the agony of burning to death never comes.

Your eyes fly back open when you see someone standing between you and the fireball, the flames fizzling out and dying before they can touch him. They disappear, unable to get past him to you, and your eyes widen in shock. Who on earth… He looks over his shoulder at you, dark-hair flopping in his visible eye—he’s pretty, you think absently, even if a quarter of his face is covered in bandages. You blame your thoughts on the fact that you’re still a bit stunned and confused. 

Then he opens his mouth.

“You must be the precious cargo,” he grins. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“Cargo?” You gape, offended. “Did you just call me cargo?”

“Precious cargo,” he corrects, eye turning up in amusement before he focuses his attention back to the ability user who had attacked you. “Go handle that, pipsqueak. Make yourself useful for once.”

“Shut your damn mouth, bastard,” another male voice spits from behind you, voice riddled with irritation and anger. 

You look behind you to see another boy around your age with orange hair and mismatched eyes. He’s dressed more casually than the dark-haired boy, who’s wearing a black suit and tie beneath his long coat. He barely spares you a look as he steps forward, and you watch as his entire body glows red before he flies forward so fast that your eyes can’t even keep up with him. 

The gravity manipulator. You’ve heard of him through Kouyou—not much, but enough to know he’s probably the strongest ability users to exist in the eastern hemisphere. Does that mean…

The dark-haired boy turns his attention to you, smile widening as he leans over you. He looks unbearably amused at your predicament, and you find yourself growing more and more incensed by the second. 

“Dazai Osamu,” he greets. “You got a name, precious cargo?” 

Oh.

You recognize the name instantly, eyes narrowing, and as if he can sense your sudden change in demeanor, his smile starts to fall. Dazai Osamu. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. Mori brought him in two years ago, if the rumors you’ve heard hold any truth to them—after he sent you away to Kyoto with Kitada Usurai, one of the previous boss’s executives. 

You always wondered if the reason Mori never brought you back had something to do with his new protege—whether it was because he didn’t need you in Yokohama anymore now that he had “the Demon Prodigy” to be his heir or it was because he just didn’t want the two of you interacting. You never really minded; you like being in Kyoto and you like not having to be at the heart of every gang conflict that takes place in Yokohama but you can’t help the bitterness that rises now that your eyes have settled on the boy that took your place.

Before you can answer him, Dazai abruptly goes careening over to the left, hitting the ground hard. The orange-haired boy is standing where he once was, leg extended, and you realize that he must’ve kicked him away. 

“Stay there and die, won’t you?” he snaps, and you glance behind him, trying to figure out if he had already taken care of the ability user that had been hunting you down. Your lips part when you see him crumpled in a pile of rubble, unmoving. “Nakahara Chuuya. You can call me Chuuya. You hurt?” 

He extends his hand to you, and you take it gratefully, giving him your name and letting him help you to your feet. You stumble a bit, your left ankle buckling under your weight, and Chuuya wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. 

How embarrassing, you think, thanking him quietly before easing his arm away, standing on your own even with the pain in your ankle, not wanting to come across as weak. You make your way over to where the ability user is crumpled on the ground, kneeling in the rubble next to him. You lift your fingers to his neck to see if he’s still hanging on, but there’s no pulse.

You click your tongue, having been hoping you’d be able to take him back to the base for questioning, but instead, you let your fingers drift to the symbol embroidered on his jacket and then to the two bars embroidered onto his bicep.

Strain. 

The old lady and her grandson hadn’t been lying.

“You recognize the symbol?” Chuuya asks, wandering over to stand next to where you’re kneeling on the ground.

You frown instantly. “You don’t?” you ask dubiously, eyes narrowing again as Chuuya bristles at your comment.

“The conflict only just started a few days ago,” he says defensively. “We don’t have intel on all of the organizations that have showed up in the city. There are dozens of them. We’ve been more focused on trying to keep the civilians out of the crossfires at this point.”

A mighty fine job they’ve been doing at that, you think sarcastically, mind drawing back to the boy and old woman that helped you earlier and all of the destroyed buildings. You keep the thought to yourself, not too keen on antagonizing one of the people sent to get you out of this hellhole. 

“That’s why he brought me back here then,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else, rolling your eyes as you grab the ability user’s walkie-talkie and rise to your feet. “He’s a member of Strain—one of their lower-ranked ability users, if the lines on his coat are accurate. From what I’ve gathered, they control Kanagawa-ku and Nishi-ku. We should get out of the open before their stronger ability users show up.”

“I can take them,” Chuuya says confidently, looking unperturbed by your comment.

“I’m sure you can,” you say dryly, “but how skilled are you at using nonlethal force against strong opponents?”

Chuuya only squints at you, which is as much of an answer as you need.

“If we want actual, useful intel, we’ll have to capture one of their higher-ranked ability users alive. I can get the information out of them, I just need the opportunity to use my ability.” You rise back to your feet, gaze shifting around the street to try to figure out where you should hide out for the night. “Plus, night is falling, and rumor has it, Strain has an ability user that’s particularly adept with umbrakinetic abilities and I would rather not run into him. I am already tired and wounded, and I don’t know how your gravity would interact with an element unaffected by gravitational forces so we can’t rely on your brute force.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have attitude?” Chuuya scowls, disgruntled by your blunt commentary, and you roll your eyes.

“No, actually,” you say, giving him a thin smile. “In fact, I’ve been told I’m quite pleasant. I’m just in a bad mood because I didn’t realize Mori would be having me return to a warzone when he called me back to Yokohama. I would’ve appreciated a bit of a head’s up.”

Your gaze drifts back to Dazai as you speak, curious, but the boy is already looking at you, a frown on his lips and visible eye sharp. As soon as he notices that you caught him staring, his face smoothes out and he cocks his head to the side, questioning, eye too black and too empty.

Your gaze slides away from him onto what seems like another residential building behind him.

“We’ll stay there for the night.”

You wake up with a pain in your back and a headache. The fact that your ankle doesn’t hurt as badly is only a minimal consolation as you push yourself into a sitting position and rub your forehead, disoriented and confused, trying to remember where you are and why you’re sleeping on a rickety bed.

Your gaze catches sight of a head of orange hair lying in the opposite direction of you, pillow at the foot of the bed and curled close to the edge of the mattress as if trying to stay as far away as possible from you.

That’s right. You’re back in Yokohama. Mori called you back to help with this conflict. Sent the gravity manipulator and the Demon Prodigy after you to make sure you got back to the base. Your eyes linger on Nakahara Chuuya for a moment, watching the way his chest rises and falls, soft puffs of air escaping his lips—he’s fast asleep, dead to the world. So, you let your gaze drift across the room; it’s dark, no lights on in fear of drawing unwanted attention from Strain scouts if they see any sign of life in one of the abandoned buildings. You can only hardly catch sight of Dazai Osamu sitting near a cracked open window, one knee tucked to his chest while the other hangs loosely at his side as he looks outside and smokes a cigarette.

There’s an indecipherable expression on his face—a heavy look in his eyes and a downturn curve to his lips. You watch him curiously for a moment. 

You’ve heard a lot about Dazai Osamu’s feats while stationed in Kyoto: ruthless, terrifyingly intelligent, willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. It took only a year of him being a member of the Mafia for him to be given control of Mori’s personal covert ops unit, and he’s been producing staggering results since. He’s the one who takes charge of eliminating organizations that you deem unworthy of associating with the Mafia but too problematic to keep around, the one who’s been opening up new distribution and trade channels for you to make use of in negotiations and acquisitions.

You suppose you’ve been working closely with him for a while now, even if the two of you have never interacted until now.

Still, the rumors that have spread about the boy are nothing to scoff at. The head of the Mafia’s interrogation unit—they say no one lasts more than five minutes in the same room with him before cracking. You’ve heard through the grapevine that the lower-ranked mafiosos are more terrified of him than any of the executives—see him as heartless and calculating, willing to sacrifice any one of them if it means furthering the Mafia’s interests. He only views people as tools, there’s no room in his black heart for meaningful relationships. No one trusts him and the longer he works for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he becomes, even in the eyes of others entrenched in the dark—people keep far out of reach of him unless they have a death wish.

You study him carefully from where you’re sitting; he still hangs his jacket over his shoulders, like some sort of barrier from the rest of the world. His expression now is a far cry from the smile that had been on his face when you first saw him; his eye black and eerily still as he stares out the window, void of the gleam that had been in it before he noticed your reaction to his name.

You slide out of bed as quietly as you can, making your way over to where he’s sitting—he doesn’t even notice your approach until he catches sight of your reflection in the window, but even then, he doesn’t turn to look at you, only tracking you through the glass until you come to sit on the windowsill across from him. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“You shouldn’t sit at the window,” you finally say. “Someone could spot you.”

His eye is so black right now; you almost feel uncomfortable beneath his stare but you only raise your eyebrows. His gaze pointedly trails down to where you’d joined him and the corner of your lip quirks up.

“Fair enough,” you say and then hold your hand out, silently requesting for him to pass the cigarette over to you. Dazai stares at your hand for a moment and just when you’re about to draw your hand back, he finally reaches out to let you take it from him. Your fingers brush his as you take it between your index and middle fingers, the contact causing a spark to run up your forearm. You lift the cigarette to your lips and take a long drag, tilting your head back against the wall before you tell him, “You should go get some rest. I’ll take watch the next few hours.”

“Not tired,” he replies after a few seconds of silence. His voice is just as cold as the expression on his face, no hint of the playfulness from earlier in the day.

You hum, trying to decide what to say because he’s clearly unhappy and you have a feeling it has to do with how you reacted to hearing his name earlier, so you decide to be upfront, not in the mood for word games. 

“I think you’re unhappy with me because of how I reacted to hearing your name,” you say, laying out the issue. His gaze snaps up to you, sharp and narrowed, lips parting to deny the allegation but you don’t let him. “I was only surprised. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I have a bad opinion of you.”

“No?” Dazai asks, a sardonic lilt to his voice, goading more than anything else but you don’t fall for the trap. 

With your legs brushing, you can’t feel the familiar warmth of your ability circling through you and emanating around you, everything feels cold and empty instead, as if a part of you was sucked into a vacuum in space—the rumors must be true about him being a nullifier. You’ve never had to interact with people without your ability as a fail safe, it’s constantly active despite trying to learn how to turn it off. It’s useful though, it ensures that even if you mess up, the people around you are comfortable enough and amiable enough to not notice. They trust you without you even needing to do anything, adore you just because of the pleasant feelings your ability induces in them.

This is… different. 

And you don’t think in a bad way. You’ve always wondered what it would be like to interact with people without your ability interfering, it’s why you tried so hard to figure out if you could turn it off. And… it's nice talking to someone who’s not automatically endeared to you by your ability, who you can have normal conversation with without having to wonder if they’re only talking to you because you’re messing with their minds. Even nicer than you used to imagine.

“No,” you confirm. “I’m curious about you.”

The corners of Dazai’s lips turn down even more, brows furrowing at the comment. “Why?”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“A monster,” you say the word absently, watching as Dazai goes rigid at it, staring you down. “A demon. It’s what everyone calls you, at least.” 

“... and what makes you think I’m not one?” he finally asks, jaw tight.

Your lips curl into an easy smile again. “If you were a monster, you wouldn’t have been so bothered by the idea of me not liking you. The desire to be liked is an exceedingly human trait.”

Even under the dim moonlight, you can see the way Dazai’s cheeks burn a rosy color at your words. He suddenly looks years younger as he fumbles for words, gaze averting from you back to the window, but his reflection betrays him. 

“I was not bothered by the idea of you not liking me,” he protests, defensiveness creeping into his tone as he snatches his cigarette right back from your hand as if to make a point, giving you a glare from the corner of his eye. “I was not.”

“You were also very clearly put off by the fact that I had no issue with Chuuya,” you note, biting back a laugh at the squeak-like protest that slips from his lips and the mortified expression that follows. “Jealousy, another exceedingly human trait.”

“I was not jealous,” he cries out, a bit too loud because from where he’s sleeping on the bed, Chuuya grumbles out a ‘shut the fuck up’ in his sleep. “I was not jealous.”

“It’s okay if you were,” you say, instead of indulging in his denial. “I’m not judging you.”

“I wasn’t,” Dazai hisses, more insistent now. “I don’t care if you like me or not.”

“Well, I do like you,” you tell him—honest, you’re having fun teasing him.

“You don’t even know me,” Dazai scoffs, cheeks still pink as he pointedly turns his face away from you. “You can’t like me.”

“I want to know you,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you observe him. You like observing things—it’s the easiest way of gathering information. You keep quiet, you don’t draw more attention to yourself than necessary. It’s how you’ve been able to thrive alone in Kyoto even with so many vultures circling you. “I don’t know many other people my age… none, really.”

Something strange crosses Dazai’s expression. Longing but hesitant. Wistful but reluctant, like he should know better but just can’t help himself from wanting. You’re good at reading people, you pride yourself on it; it’s another reason why you’ve been able to succeed in Kyoto alone. Dazai is difficult—he covers half of his face and he’s quick to school the other half when he slips up, but you’re observant. It’s what you’re best at. 

You wonder, maybe, if Dazai has his own vultures. You think he must, he’s young—like you—and it’s probably why he uses his reputation as a shield and wears his long black coat like armor in the same way you use honeyed words and wear a saccharine smile. So, the thought must be scary to him as much as it must be appealing—the desire to have someone see him put against the fear of actually being seen as he is. 

You know it better than anyone.

“Well, you can’t have Chuuya. Chuuya is my dog,” Dazai says firmly, raising his chin. “He follows my orders.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Your dog?” you ask dryly.

“My dog,” Dazai confirms, seemingly quite proud of himself. “I won a bet, and now Chuuya is my dog for life.”

“Must have been quite the bet,” you drawl, watching as Dazai brightens a bit at the topic.

“We had a contest to see who could figure out the culprit of one of our missions faster. I won, of course, because Chuuya is slow and dumb like a slug. A slug. Chuuya is a slug,” Dazai cackles, dark eye shining as his lips curl up into a wide smile, clapping his hands together. “I’m much better than Chuuya, you see. He’s a brute. He’s never had to learn to be smart or cunning because of his ability, so he just punches things around until he gets what he wants. Plus, he’s small—and if that’s not bad enough, he is more arrogant than his tiny body can hold. That’s why he’s my dog. He can’t do anything without his master’s orders.”

Dazai is not subtle in dragging Chuuya down to boast about himself, puffing out his chest like some prideful bird and lifting his chin as he speaks. You think that if Chuuya was awake to hear this, Dazai would find himself tossed right out of the window to fall two stories to the ground, but the other boy is asleep, blissfully unaware of Dazai’s rampage of insults. 

“What happened during the mission?” you ask curiously, a bit interested to know what’s all been happening in Yokohama while you’ve been gone.

Dazai looks surprised as if he didn’t expect you to encourage his yapping. Then, he lights up again. “I’ll tell you all about it…”

You wonder, maybe, if the rumors of his solidarity and inability to form meaningful relationships might not have stemmed from his own volition. Rather, you think they’ve been enforced by the people around him who refuse to give him the time of day in fear of his reputation, because right now in front of you isn’t some twisted and unfathomable wraith of the Mafia.

All you see is a boy the same age as you eager to have someone new to talk to. 

He talks all night. 

From the moment you sat there with him at two or three in the morning until dawn, you don’t think he shut his mouth once. You hardly spoke more than a handful of times, content to just lean your head against the window and listen to him go on about all of the missions he’s had since joining the Mafia a year ago—most of them involved Chuuya, and he certainly made a show of explaining in each one why the mission would have failed without Dazai there to guide it along.

“See. This is why he’s my dog.”

It’s not until Chuuya finally starts stirring as the sun crosses the horizon does he finally quiet down, seemingly not keen on getting himself launched out a window if the other boy happens to hear one of the unsavory stories Dazai’s telling you.

Then again, his first words are pretty much asking for it.

“About time you woke up, slug,” Dazai says cheerfully when Chuuya groans and rolls over, clearly starting to wake up. His dark eye gleams as he waits for Chuuya’s explosive reaction to the new nickname.

“Hah?! What did you just call me, bastard?” Chuuya snaps, although he’s quite slow in pushing himself out of bed, sleepy and disoriented, gaze swiveling around to try to land on Dazai.

“Huh,” you say, more to yourself than them. “He is quite sluggish in waking up.”

“What?!” Chuuya demands, head snapping toward you. 

On the other side of the window bench, Dazai snickers, looking mighty pleased with himself. He looks a lot more his age now, the tenseness in his shoulders has dissipated in the hours he spent talking to you, the tightness in his face has smoothed out. His eye is a lot wider and a lot brighter, the corner of his lip twitching as he waits to see what Chuuya’s going to do next. He sits closer to you now too—or, not closer, really, but he’s extended his legs out a bit as the night drew on until they were all but entangled with yours.

“You’re a slug, Chuuya,” Dazai jeers. “A slug. Because you’re small and slow. Aren’t I so brilliant?”

“I’m going to toss your shitty ass out the window,” Chuuya booms, throwing himself out of bed and darting over to Dazai, who evades Chuuya’s punch by diving off of the window bench, nearly taking you right with him considering his legs were stuffed between yours. “Get back here, you asshole.”

Dazai’s out of the room in an instant and Chuuya is chasing after him, spitting out curses and threats. You sit there for a moment, blinking, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened before just deciding to shake your head and rise to your feet. You stretch, body a bit sore from sitting in the same place for hours and tired from the little amount of sleep you got last night. 

You’re ready to get back to headquarters. You want to sleep in an actual bed and you want to drag Mori for his incompetence and nearly getting you killed. You miss Elise too, even if you don’t really like what she’s become. You’re just happy to not be alone anymore—being in Kyoto was… stressful, at best, and downright agonizing, at worst. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even your ability was enough to protect you there, you had no friends, you were lonely and constantly looking over your shoulder because you had no one to watch your back—even the other members of the Mafia in Kyoto with you would’ve turned against you at any given chance if it meant they could drag themselves higher up the hierarchy. 

You yawn as you leave the room, hearing the distant sounds of Chuuya kicking Dazai’s shit in. You make your way to the front of the building you guys had camped the night out, intent on getting a breath of fresh air before waiting for them to stop fucking around but you hardly get more than half a step out of the door before you’re pushed back hard against a nearby wall.

Your eyes widen when a figure manifests in front of you, particles of shadows knitting together to form a young man who seems to be a few years older than you. You barely withhold a sigh, realizing that despite all attempts to avoid him, you still managed to stumble right into the hands of Strain’s shadow manipulator—literally.

“I didn’t expect the cargo we got intel on to be a girl,” he says coolly.  “I almost didn’t believe it when Anderson reported it to me. Though I haven’t heard from him in hours, I assume that’s your doing.”

“You know,” you say lightly, “this is the second time in less than twelve hours that I’ve been called cargo. I think I like it even less coming from you.”

Though you’ve heard a lot about the shadow manipulator, you didn’t know what he looked like before now—he’s quick and elusive, and those who do manage to catch sight of him are killed by him soon after.. He’s not much older than you, though—two years max—handsome enough, pale blonde hair and green eyes with tan, freckled skin. 

Your lips curve up into a small smile. “Are you going to kill me or are you going to stand here with your hand around my neck? … Just so you know, I’m not into that.”

You watch as—just as you expect—he frowns deeply and takes a step back. He watches you carefully, brows knit together, and you let your ability work. Invisible threads wind around his limbs, curling up his neck twisting into his ears and nose and mouth, they curl up to his brain and take root, leaving him vulnerable to however you plan to use your ability.

You still have to be careful. You have to be subtle. Your ability is useful but it has its drawbacks—the biggest being that if you’re too sudden with it, the person you’re targeting can realize that you’re messing with their head and pull themselves out of it. That would be the worst case scenario because 1) they’d realize you have an ability and 2) you’d be in trouble. 

So you resign to just tilting your head to the side as you smile—some emotions are fickle, positive ones like love and happiness, especially among people like you who don’t often feel those emotions. Negative emotions are easier in that once you send someone into a spiral of fear, paranoia or rage, it’s almost impossible for them to draw themselves out, but they’ll inevitably realize that you had done something to their head, which is not an option because your ability needs to remain a secret.

So you decide to just rely on the passive form of your ability, watching as he falls victim to it, shoulders slumping and muscles relaxing as he eyes you curiously. Your ability is non-combatant, yes, but as soon as combat is over, it comes out to play.

He’d made a fatal mistake when he chose not to snap your neck.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you say conversationally, hands behind your back as you tilt your head to the side. “They say you’re one of the strongest ability users in the world right now.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be a kid,” he says with a frown. “You’re what? Fourteen?”

You blanche. “I’m sixteen,” you protest, forgetting to keep up appearances as you stare at him, aghast. “I do not look fourteen.”

He makes a face as if he disagrees and then shrugs. 

Your eyes bulge. “I do not,” you repeat angrily. “I’m sixteen.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, amused. “I’m not in the business of killing kids though, so I guess I have to take you in. What a bother.”

Your eye twitches. You’d rather die than be taken hostage by Strain and you don’t know where your shitty escorts are so you settle for antagonizing him as a means to stall.

“You’re a high-ranking member of Strain, how are you going to sit here and tell me you’re not in the business of killing kids?” you sneer. “Your organization has been the cause of more child deaths than any other in the world.”

His eyes turn to slits as he stares at you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says coldly. “I put a stop to all of the rings in Australia myself.”

“And what? You think Strain is willing to just take those losses?” you say, an amused laugh bubbling in the back of your throat when anger flashes through his eyes. Your gaze flits down to the five lines embroidered on his jacket. “For an executive, you must not be kept in the loop by the rest of your comrades. The moment you dismantled the rings in Australia, they turned to strike a deal with Bunin—what do you think your branch in Russia does there? They’re helping Bunin expand his trafficking rings through the East and Strain cuts twenty percent of the profit.”

His hand snaps forward to grab your collar, yanking you toward him. “How would you even know that?” he spits, but from the conflict thinly veiled behind his eyes, you know that your words have taken root. 

You raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, a bit too close for comfort.

“How did you know I was coming back to Yokohama?” you counter instead. He lets you go immediately, withdrawing with a closed-off expression. “Come on, we’ve both been betrayed in some manner—you by your organization, me by someone within mine. I almost burned to death because of them and you… you’ve been working for an organization that’s been lying to you for years. Let’s help each other.”

“I don’t even know if what you’re saying is the truth,” he replies tightly. “I don’t-”

“Then go find out,” you say with an idle smile, “and when you realize I’m telling the truth, well… your ability is quite handy, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me again.”

He stares at you for a moment, expression indecipherable, but after a few long seconds, he disappears in the same swirl of darkness that he appeared in and you can finally relax. You let out a heavy sigh as your shoulders slump, lifting your hand to your neck, wincing at the tenderness.

You doubt that will be enough. You’ve heard rumors that he’s Yakuza-born—only ended up with Strain after Mishima’s Sun and Steel went to war with their syndicate—loyalty is always core to those types, runs through their blood—but at least you’ve planted the seeds, and when he inevitably finds out you’re telling the truth, he’ll come crawling back for more information.

And hopefully some information for you in return. 

Your gaze flits to the side when you hear a crash from your left, seeing Nakahara Chuuya fly out of the building, hands glowing red and eyes wide and wild, trying to seek out a man who’s already long gone.

You roll your eyes. “He’s already gone. Thanks for the help, O’Great Protectors,” you say sarcastically. “Really, you guys are amazing at your job.”

Chuuya has the decency to look ashamed, face flushing as red as his hair as he deactivates his ability and looks away from you. “Who the hell was that?”

“Itou Asahi,” you say absently. “Strain’s shadow manipulator—one of the strongest ability users in the eastern hemisphere right now. Mori brought him up a few times wanting me to recruit him. I didn't think I’d get the chance considering we’re aligned with the Sun and Steel and he hates them, but I might have an opening.”

Your look over to Dazai, who only frowns at your words, gaze trained on you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“You’re hurt,” he says, brows furrowed, and you realize he’s looking at your neck.

You drop your hand from where you’d been brushing your fingers against the sensitive skin, feeling distinctly too seen under Dazai’s heavy gaze. You don’t know why you feel a bit flustered, but you do and you definitely don’t like it.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we head back to headquarters now?”

Dazai frowns like he’s about to protest, but Chuuya nods before he can. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Headquarters is less than a mile away now. The streets that three of you are walking down are safe—none of the organizations have made it this far into the heart of Port Mafia territory—and yet for some reason, Dazai still feels incredibly troubled. 

He hasn’t even been able to join in on you and Chuuya’s conversation. He’s had ample opportunity to considering how much Chuuya is embarrassing himself by trying to act smart, but instead he finds himself trailing behind the two of you, an outsider, too lost in his own thoughts to even think of trying to make a snide comment.

Why is he so troubled?

Dazai isn’t sure and that troubles him too.

He’s always been very in tune with himself. His emotions, his motives, his wants and needs—they’re few and far between, yes, but Dazai has never struggled to pinpoint them at any point in his life. 

He was sad when his ability manifested and his siblings no longer wanted anything to do with him. His ability made them uncomfortable, made them feel empty because it deprived them of their own abilities. They said it was unnatural, and they said he must be unnatural too because why else would he develop such a terrible ability? Dazai couldn’t really blame them, his ability made him feel empty too—he theorizes that when it doesn’t have an ability to suck up into the black hole, it starts devouring anything else it can get its hands on, like his emotions, because he stopped feeling much at all after it manifested. 

When he was twelve, he wanted to learn how to play the piano to impress his mother, though he never got the chance to show her because she was killed soon after. He hasn’t wanted much of anything since then. 

When he was fourteen, his grandfather started pitting him, his siblings and his cousins against each other. His older brother drew the first blood against one of his cousins, and it was a bloodbath from there on out. With both of his parents dead and his siblings and cousins trying to kill one another to be named his grandfather’s heir, Dazai didn’t have much reason to live himself, and he definitely didn’t want to be killed by one of his siblings or cousins. 

So, he thought the next logical step was to die, so he tried to kill himself.

He failed, obviously, and ended up with none other than Mori. He still hasn’t found much of a reason to keep living. Chuuya is around, he supposes, and he’s entertaining enough to mess with—it’s enough to keep Dazai going for now—and you claim to want to know him, so Dazai is interested in seeing how that plays out, but that’s beyond the point. 

The point is that Dazai knows what Dazai wants. Dazai knows what Dazai needs. Dazai knows what Dazai feels. And Dazai currently cannot figure out why Dazai is troubled, so something is certainly wrong and he needs to figure out what it is. 

He hears you laugh at something that Chuuya said and barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. Nothing Chuuya says is ever that funny, so you must just be being polite, but it’s still annoying. Mostly due to the fact that Dazai can’t call it out because he doesn’t even know what was said because he wasn’t paying attention courtesy of his current dilemma.

He withholds a sigh as his gaze drops to your neck, eyes focusing in on the dark bruises lining your neck—the fingerprints of that ability user form Strain that attacked you when he and Chuuya weren’t around—and his irritation spikes yet again.

At once, a lightbulb goes off in his head.

That’s what’s troubling him. He’s found himself looking back at the marks on your neck on more than one occasion, and each time, it’s triggered his displeasure. He’s not sure why it took him so long to put it together, but now lies a new issue: why is it triggering his displeasure?

He squints as he stares at you hard, willing the answer to come to him. There must be a logical reason for it, he just needs to figure out what it is. He can see you looking at him from the corner of your eye, probably wondering why he’s staring at you so intensely, but Dazai just can’t rip his gaze away, fully intent on figuring out what his problem is right now.

Casualties are expected in this line of work. Dazai has never been one to think twice when people are hurt or killed in the line of action—he’s lost many subordinates to ensure the success of a mission and has even put his own life on the line if it meant that it bettered his chances of succeeding. So he should by no means be bothered by the prospect of you being wounded, especially considering he barely knows you.

“I want to know you.”

Dazai blinks as your words suddenly ring through his head again, startled by his own thoughts. His brows furrow even deeper because no, that can’t possibly be the reason why. He supposes it might be influencing it a bit because people who want to know him are few and far between, so the thought of meeting someone who actually gives him the time of day and almost losing them right away is unfortunate. It makes sense that it’s making him more irritable, especially when it’s something he’s curious to see play out and it’s something that could’ve been easily prevented.

Oh, he realizes, suddenly satisfied as he comes to an answer that he can quickly accept, disregarding everything else. 

That’s the issue—it was preventable. 

Dazai should’ve seen it coming and he should’ve been quick to take the necessary steps to avoid it. What he was feeling was irritability at himself, not at the fact that you got hurt. It wouldn’t make sense because Dazai doesn’t know you and even if he did know you, casualties are expected in this line of work. But you’re his assignment—his and Chuuya’s—Dazai has never failed an assignment before, much less with Chuuya, and he’d come this close because he’d recklessly let down his guard in enemy territory. 

It makes sense.

Much more than any of the other absurd explanations he’d been considering do at least.

This time when Chuuya makes a stupid comment, Dazai chimes in with some very necessary commentary, giving you a simpering smile and a wink before dancing out of the way of Chuuya’s much anticipated roundhouse.

Still, Dazai finds the troubled feeling returning again when his gaze drifts back down to the marks on your neck as he passes by the two of you with flourished spin, antagonizing Chuuya just to entertain himself with how red his face gets in embarrassment. 

But his gaze darts back up to your face quickly and he shakes off the unwelcome feeling, another quip on the tip of his tongue that abruptly dies when he sees your hand pressed to your mouth as you try to hide your amusement from Chuuya. Your eyes are turned up and your smothered giggles are just barely audible, the mid-morning sun casts an ethereal glow over your face and for a moment, Dazai is entirely stunned by the sight. He nearly trips over his own foot, and since he’s unsteady on his feet, he can’t avoid the way Chuuya predictably transitions from a roundhouse into a back kick.

He goes flying backward, all breath pushed from his lungs as takes the kick to the gut and hits the concrete hard a few feet away. He should be disgruntled, or he should at the very least retaliate with another mocking jibe, but instead, he finds his gaze fixed on you, watching as you finally burst into laughter, unable to contain it with the sight of Dazai sprawled out on the ground looking like a clown.

His heart rate spikes and Dazai’s hand flies to his chest, alarmed—becomes even more so when it doesn’t settle down. He rips his gaze from you to stare down at the ground, forcibly calming his heart and only when he’s sure that he’s got it under control, he looks back up.

Immediately, he loses control over it again, and this time it feels even more erratic, each thump resonating through his ears as you approach him, giggles quieting as you hold out your hand to help him up. 

For a horrifying second, Dazai thinks he might have a heart attack and that would be a lame way to go. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he does not have a heart attack, although that means he’s probably going to have to go to Mori when he gets back to the base—death may have been more preferable to that. 

Great, he thinks bitterly, not only has he had to deal with Chuuya for over twenty-four now, but now he’s going to have to go see Mori and figure out what the hell is wrong with him. Or you. He wonders if maybe you have an ability that’s somehow affecting him, that would be a serious issue for future missions that the two of you might be paired for. 

But it must be that—it’s the most logical explanation. 

What a mess the past day has been, but…

Dazai thinks it might’ve been worth the trouble, eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he takes your hand, taking note of the odd jolt that runs up his arm as soon as your fingers wrap around his hand to help him up. 

He doesn’t notice that even with your fingers locked with his, his heart still beats out of his chest. 

“Don’t tell me you’re over here reminiscing.”

You roll your eyes before looking over your shoulder to focus your gaze on an achingly familiar face. Chuuya drops lightly to the ground behind you, using gravity to soften his fall as he approaches you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, folding your arms over your chest as a smile curves to your lips. “I was waiting for you.”

“D’aw, did ya miss me?” he asks with a sharp smile.

You have a retort ready to fly from your lips, but instead of speaking it, you sigh and let your gaze drift across the street in Kanagawa-ku that you’re standing in. Even after all of these years, the ground and buildings are still charred where that ability user had attacked you—faded now, of course, but you can still make out the faint remnants of the attacks.

Maybe you are reminiscing, you think to yourself, a heavy feeling settling over you. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture the rubble you were hiding behind, the jolt of fear you’d felt when you realized you wouldn’t be able to dodge the next attack, and then him.

And then Dazai.

“I did,” you admit, dragging your eyes from the ground to look back at Chuuya, whose smile falters a bit before softening.

“I can’t believe Mori had you abroad for three years,” he sighs, reaching out to squeeze your wrist. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Let’s head back to headquarters and have a drink. We can put on a movie.”

“Not one of your shitty horror movies,” you laugh, knocking your shoulder into his. You lean into him a bit as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, keeping it draped around you as the two of you start to make your way back to the base.

You hesitate—and Chuuya can feel your hesitation from the way he glances down at you, concerned. He frowns and asks, “What’s up?”

You let out a puff of air and then speak up reluctantly, “Have you… heard from him? Of him?”

You hate the twinge of hope that’s audible in your voice, despite how hard you tried to rid yourself of it. You hate even more the sympathetic look that Chuuya casts you; he knows who you’re talking about instantly—of course, he does, there’s only one person it could be—his lashes lower and his arm drops back to his side. 

“I saw him,” Chuuya says after a few moments. Your eyes widen as your head snaps toward him, waiting for him to continue. “... Met him. He’s part of the Armed Detective Agency now. Got himself captured by us to try to get information to help his new protege.”

“Oh.”

Your throat feels tight. Too tight. Swollen. Your eyes sting painfully and you have to force yourself to take a deep breath. The Armed Detective Agency. New protege. You don’t know if you feel bitter or relieved. Bitter because he’s found a place somewhere without you, relieved because he’s alive and okay. 

His defection still doesn’t even feel real after four years, it’s not like you’ve been in Yokohama long enough to fully process it, but god… you could still imagine him coming up behind the two of you with a snide comment to antagonize Chuuya, eyes trained on you to watch the way you laugh at Chuuya’s reaction. The wistfulness hits you so hard that it almost knocks the air from your lungs—not for the first time since he left, you yearn, you miss him, you want him, and now that you’re finally back in Yokohama after so many years abroad, it’s all the more intense.

How unfair, you think, nails biting into your palms as you stare ahead.

“Do you think he’s replaced us?” You try to keep your voice light, but you think you fail.

Chuuya lets out a bark of laughter. “He can certainly try.”

Your lips curl up at Chuuya’s words, gaze flickering down to the ground. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree quietly before asking, “Did he seem… okay?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about that shithead anymore,” he tells you. “I’m sure he’ll come looking for you now that you’re back. Let’s go home now, yeah?” 

The thought of Dazai coming to look for you makes your stomach twist with anxiety; after so many years apart, you just don’t know what to expect… but you suppose you’ve never really known what to expect from him, so you’ll just handle him the same way you always have. Except maybe not as kindly.

But you don’t have to worry about that yet.  Instead, you smile and bump shoulders with Chuuya again.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

[surielstea]

Your Needs, My Needs

Request made by @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the return of Cassian’s ex, Reader makes the decision to distance herself from him— but hasn’t expected him to notice.

Warnings: A teensy bit of angst, mostly fluff!

A. Note: Sorry this is so short, I just began writing for Kinktober and started pouring all my focus into that and totally forgot about my reqs, hope this is enjoyable nonetheless :)

1.3k words

The past week has been hell.

Cassian and I haven't touched or had a meaningful conversation in seven days. All due to the return of his ex.

Alora was back from her three-year-long expedition of traveling courts and making connections. Cassian and her called it off before she left, it seemed mutual, and neither of them was too broken up about it so when me and Cassian got much closer over those three years it hadn't felt wrong.

But now she was back, and I was determined to save myself from the heartbreak of being the other woman.

So I distanced myself, backed away, stopped my lingering stares and cuddling on the couches, and stopped the flirty teasing and banter altogether.

We sat in the training ring, panting and out of breath, drinking from our waters silently. We used to sit shoulder to shoulder— despite the heat emanating from our bodies, we preferred to be close, but now there was a noticeable gap between us and it cleaved my heart in two.

I glance over at the winged male to see him already gazing at me. I give him a polite smile, trying not to fumble with my water as I avert my stare and place the bottle down beside my feet.

"What are you doing?" He suddenly asks and my brows crease, glancing back over to him, the hurt expression on his rough yet handsome features.

"Trying to catch my breath?" I say through a slightly dramatized pant.

"That's not what I'm talking about. You've been avoiding me, what have I done?" He narrows his eyes on me and I huff, looking away, afraid he might be able to see right through me if I held eye contact.

"I haven't been avoiding you Cass, just, giving you space." I shrug, keeping my voice from wavering.

"One and the same, what did I do?" His blunt words struck me like a slap, a frown pulling at my lips.

"You didn't do anything." I shake my head, finally meeting his hazel eyes.

"Then why give me space?" It hurt more than I expected it to, to look into those eyes after so long, torture to be away from him for only just a week. I doubt I could even stomach being around him once he got back with Alora.

"Alora returned, Cass, I figured you'd want to pick up where you left off," I explain, remaining strong on my point.

"And what if I don't want that?" He stands, now looking down on me. I mirror his position, rising onto my feet yet he still remained looking down at his nose and I cursed his tall height.

"It's what you should want," I argue with narrowed brows.

"No, what I should want is what makes me happy." His voice brooked no room for argument as he took a step forward, and for a moment he looked like he was going to reach out towards me, then thought better of it. "And that's you." He confesses.

My heart stutters at his words, fingers twitching with the need to touch him. "Cass." I sigh, shaking my head.

"Don't 'Cass' me, sweetheart." He tilted his head down at me.

"She's better for you," I murmur, shrugging and fighting my need to wring my hands.

"You think I can't decide what's best for me?" He steps closer, a dangerous distance now between us.

"No,” I blurt, my brows bunching.” I'm just trying to make all of this easier." I huff, my bottom lip now protruding. I didn’t want to argue, I didn’t want to even be bothered to discuss it, I thought this was what he would want?

"Easier for who?"

His question was met with silence as I debated the question. I thought it’d be easier for him, I hadn’t realized he would notice my distance. I was only trying to save him from having that awkward conversation with me.

"I don't want her, I want you." He reaches out, his hands cupping my cheeks. I blink in surprise, a blush staining my cheeks. He wanted me?

"But, I thought—" I begin to say but he cuts me off.

"You thought wrong princess," He smiled arrogantly, but the line between his brows told me he was still distressed. "I didn't want to tell you, I thought you might realize on your own.” He said, then let out a soft chuckle as he added, "Figured the nicknames and cuddling was enough to give you a hint."

I avert my gaze, the burning on my cheeks starting to grow overwhelming. "Sorry," I utter, wrapping my arms around myself.

His hands slip from my cheeks to the nape of my neck, his thumbs tilting my jaw up, making me look at him. "Don't apologize just, please, no more distancing yourself from me,” He reasons and I frown.

"I was only trying to protect you, protect myself," I explain my stance on our argument still not satiated.

"I don't need protection, I need you." His hands tightened around the back of my neck but it didn’t hurt, it was a reassuring squeeze, a reminder. "I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

"Okay." I nod slowly, a soft smile spreading across my lips, one I haven’t given him in the past week.

He leaned closer and my breath hitched, eyes flicking down to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?” He asks and I nod fervently. A wicked smile spreads over his lips at my reaction but doesn’t leave me waiting for long before his lips crash down onto mine.

The kiss was soft, yet passionate. He conveyed every neglected emotion in that kiss, how much he desperately needed me in the seven days I didn’t look or touch him, how depraved he was. His lips were skilled, and his tongue even more so as it slipped into my mouth. I sighed softly, allowing him to explore every crook and crevice, studying and memorizing it as if for later reminiscence.

“I missed you,” He whispers into my mouth and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my chest pressed into his.

"You're so clingy." I rolled my eyes, feigning annoyance. He smiled wildly at that, because despite the kiss, this was normal, the hugging and teasing, he hadn’t realized how much he cherished it until it disappeared.

"Gods, I missed you so much." He repeats, a cadence in his voice that sounded so genuine, making my frown return, my hand rubbing circles on the back of his shoulder slowing.

"I thought you'd go back to her, I was only trying to help," I say softly, his eyes soften as he quickly shakes his head and says,

"I was never hers, just didn't know it until you." He leans closer and pecks my lips softly. "I'm yours, I always have been." He reassured and my smile returned, I pushed up onto my toes, connecting our lips over and over again, kissing him until we were both sick of the taste of each other.

“And I’m yours,” I confess. “I’ve always known that, though,” I say bashfully and his grin widens, feral, genuine. My hand slithered to his jaw, my thumb now tracing over the outline of his sensuous lips. “I missed you too,” I confess, even if I was the one pulling away.

“I know, sweetheart, your sorrow-filled stares were proof.” He teased and I shuddered, looking away with a bright red blush. He chuckled and brought my face back to his with a nudge of his nose. “It was cute,” He reassured me, and even if I didn’t believe him, I allowed his lips to press against mine, again, and again, and again.

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[leahrintarou]

Hey this might sound weird but I’ll do my best to explain could you do a suna fix where he works for you dad working on cars together at you family owned garage that is on you property and you two secretly like talk and other stuff ;)

✩₊˚.⋆ DENIAL - suna rintarou

CW: swearing, make out sesh (suggestive maybe), petname "angel" used, y/n is in denial, suna is in love. he's a tease, reader uses she/her, i love this man oml Word Count: 2.3k Author's Note: DOESNT SOUND WEIRD AT ALL, ANON! i hope you enjoy :). ty for reading. make sure to send in a request if you ever have any ideas that you want me to write <3

y/n wiped sweat from her brow, leaving behind a stripe of grease residue. she was currently working at the family owned car shop that he dad has been around ever since she was a child. the second she was able to gold things on her own, she's been by her dad's side helping him every chance she got. she loved it and couldn't imagine a better lifestyle.

however, there was a catch that came in the form of suna rintarou. he stood a few feet away from her, finishing up the final touches on one of the cars that was recently dropped off at the shop for a maintenance check. a lazy smirk was on his lips when y/n's eyes caught his figure.

"its rude to stare, y/n."

y/n was tempted to throw the tool in her hand directly at him but thought twice, opposing from the idea. "i rather stare at a wall. don't flatter yourself." she rolled her eyes. that might've been a lie and might've been the truth. suna was attractive, that she could confidently say about him. however, she would often catch herself admiring him way too often.

how his bottom lip always tucked between his teeth as he was focused, his lazy and low-lidded gaze that would intimidate any customer that showed up, hence the reason why he called y/n over anytime assistance was needed.

"all you have to do is give them a little smile, dude."

"why would i smile at a stranger who expects me to charge them a penny for a week's worth of work?"

suna chuckled at y/n's words. he was dressed in loose fitting jeans that were stained with oil. his hoodie matched that oil stained design and somehow, he was still able to make it appear to look like something out of a fashion magazine.

"right, sure." he shook his head, leaning against the car after shutting it's hood. "you know the more you deny it, the more i know that you like me, right?"

"me liking you? your cockiness makes me sick." she shook her head. "if i had to choose between you and oil spill, id pick the oil."

suna didn't miss a beat. "you say that now, but it sounds like you'd enjoy getting dirty here with me."

her pulse quickened, and she cursed herself for reacting. he always did this-teased her just enough to make her flustered, but not enough to cross a line. he'd been working here for months now, and ever since he'd started, it had been a constant back-and-forth between them.

she liked to pretend he annoyed her, but he had this frustrating ability to crawl under her skin and make her feel things she didn't want to admit. her dad was in the back, probably fixing some engine part, leaving her alone with suna in the main garage. she grabbed a rag and wiped her hands, desperate for a distraction.

"you got something to say, or are you just going to stand there grinning like an idiot all day?" she muttered, turning her attention to the car in front of her. "hey, i'm actually working here," suna said with mock innocence as he bent under the hood of a car. "just trying to keep this place running smoothly. you should thank me, y'know? without me, your dad would be way more stressed."

she rolled her eyes. "you're delusional. dad could run this place fine without you. suna's eyes flicked up to meet hers from under the hood, a mischievous glint in them. "maybe, but it's more fun having me around, isn't it?"

her face heated up again, and she cursed under her breath. how did he always manage to get under her skin like this? "you're lucky you're good with cars," she muttered, pretending to focus on the engine. "otherwise, you'd be out of here."

"i’ll take that as a compliment," he said, standing up and stretching, his hoodie riding up just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. he smirked when he noticed her staring. "like what you see?"

she scowled and threw the rag at him, which he caught effortlessly. "you wish, suna."

"yeah, i do," he shot back, leaning closer. his voice dropped, teasing, but softer. "come on, y/n. you can’t pretend you don’t like me forever."

she swallowed, not trusting herself to speak. she hated how easily he could fluster her, how he always knew exactly what to say to make her heart race. but he was also frustratingly right. as much as she tried to ignore it, there was something about him that drew her in. the teasing, the flirting, the way he always seemed so calm and collected, like nothing ever rattled him—it was annoyingly attractive.

"i can try," she muttered, turning her back to him.

he chuckled again, but it was softer this time, more genuine. "you’re fun to mess with, you know that?"

"glad i could be your entertainment," she deadpanned.

"you make it too easy," he said, leaning against the car again, watching her. his gaze was heavy, and it made her skin tingle. "but seriously, y/n. you’re not fooling anyone. i know you like me."

she huffed in frustration, finally turning to face him. "what makes you so sure?"

suna’s grin widened. "because if you really hated me, you wouldn’t let me get away with half the stuff i say to you. and you wouldn’t get all flustered every time i do this—"

his thumb met with the area just above her eyebrow, wiping away the smudge of grease. her breath hitched, and she cursed herself for reacting. his eyes locked onto hers, and for a second, the playful teasing was gone, replaced by something deeper, something that made her stomach flip.

she slapped his hand away, even though her heart was beating out of her chest. "you’re so full of yourself."

"maybe," he said, his voice low. "but that doesn’t mean i’m wrong."

she hated how right he was. she hated how he made her heart race, how he always seemed to know exactly what buttons to press. but more than anything, she hated that she kind of liked it. before she could respond, her dad’s voice called out from the back of the garage. "y/n! suna! i need a hand back here."

she jumped at the sound, grateful for the interruption. quickly wiping her hands in a rag, she turned toward the back. "coming!"

suna followed her, his presence a little too close for comfort. as they approached the back where her dad was working on a stubborn engine, she tried to shake off the lingering tension. but suna, of course, wasn’t about to let it go.

"hey, y/n," he whispered as they walked, his breath warm against her ear. "you never answered my question."

"what question?" she muttered, refusing to look at him.

he leaned even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "do you like what you see?"

instead of answering, she clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, and settled on throwing her elbow back to meet with his abdomen. he caught it just in time and pulled her back to him.

"that's not nice, angel."

"oh, fuck off."

---

hours later, after her dad had gone home and the sun was setting outside, the garage was quiet. she and suna were the only ones left, finishing up the last of the work for the day. the silence between them was heavier now, the teasing from earlier still hanging in the air.

"you’re quiet," suna commented as he wiped down his tools. "something on your mind?"

"nope," she lied, trying to focus on organizing the wrenches on the wall.

suna smirked, walking over to her. he stood behind her, his presence looming, and she could feel the heat of him even though he wasn’t touching her. "still mad at me for making you flustered earlier?"

"i wasn’t flustered," she scoffed.

he chuckled, and she felt his breath on her neck. "sure you weren’t." she spun around, glaring at him. "what do you want, suna? why do you always have to mess with me?"

his smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, his expression softened. he stepped closer, and suddenly, she felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

"maybe i just like being around you," he said, his voice quieter now. "ever think of that?"

'well you make it hard for me to like being around you' she thought to herself.

y/n stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. this wasn’t the usual teasing suna; this was different. she opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat.

suna reached out, his fingers brushing her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "you're killing me, y/n."

her heart pounded in her chest, and she hated that he was right. she hated that, despite all the teasing and banter, she actually liked him. more than she wanted to admit. "you’re insufferable," she muttered, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

suna’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them. "maybe. but you still like me."

she rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "unfortunately."

suna grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "knew it."

y/n barely had time to react before suna closed the space between them, his lips crashing against hers in a way that was both surprising and inevitable. there was nothing slow or gentle about it—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long. her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. instead, she found herself pushing into the kiss, gripping the front of his hoodie as if she needed to anchor herself to something real.

suna’s hands found her waist, fingers digging into her sides as he pulled her closer, pressing her back against the workbench. she sighed against his lips, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire, every touch of his lips against hers sending sparks down her spine.

he broke the kiss first, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them. his voice, usually full of teasing, was low and rough. “this is what you were in denial of for so long?”

y/n blinked up at him, her mind still spinning from the kiss, trying to find her words. “shut up—” but her voice came out breathless, and she hated how easily he unraveled her.

suna’s lips curved into a slight smirk, though there was something softer in his eyes now, something that made her chest tighten. “you’ve been pushing me away for so long,” he murmured, hands warm against her skin. “but i think you wanted this just as much as i did.”

“you’re wrong,” she tried to snap back, but the way her voice shook betrayed her. she hated that he was right, hated how much she wanted him, how much she had been pretending not to feel anything.

“yeah?” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “then tell me to stop.”

y/n opened her mouth, but no words came out. her mind was screaming at her to push him away, to tell him he was wrong, but her body wasn’t listening. instead, her fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. “i hate you,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

suna chuckled softly, leaning down to brush his lips against hers again. “you don’t hate me.”

this kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. y/n’s breath hitched as his hand slid up her back, pulling her flush against him. she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

when they finally pulled apart, suna’s eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, his smirk replaced by something more serious. “you can’t keep pretending you don’t feel anything,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent.

y/n bit her lip, her heart still racing, her mind a mess of emotions. “and what if i don’t want to feel this?” she asked, her voice shaky.

suna’s gaze softened, and he reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “then stop lying to yourself,” he said quietly. “because i’m not going anywhere.”

her chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in them catching her off guard. she didn’t want to admit how much she cared, how much she had been holding back. but in this moment, with his lips inches from hers and his hand still resting on her cheek, it felt impossible to keep pretending.

without saying another word, she leaned in again, capturing his lips in a kiss that was softer this time, less rushed, but just as intense. she didn’t know what this meant, didn’t know what would happen after tonight. but right now, with suna’s arms around her and his lips against hers, none of that seemed to matter.

suna wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it aside, the sun casting an orange glow through the garage windows. the day had slowed down, leaving only the two of them, the steady hum of the shop’s quiet settling around them. he stretched lazily, catching y/n’s eyes on him for a split second.

“alright, i’m heading out,” he said, his voice smooth as always. his eyes lingered on her, softer than usual. “you need anything before i go?”

y/n shook her head, busying herself by wiping down a tool. “nah, i’m good.”

suna took a step toward the door, hesitating for a moment. the smirk on his face softened into something gentler. he gave her one last look before heading out.

“see you tomorrow, angel,” he called over his shoulder, his tone light, almost teasing.

y/n glanced up, catching his eyes just as he disappeared through the door, the sound of his voice leaving a warmth in the air even after he was gone.

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[kingkat12]

hickeys (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, softcore-y smut, tw!bullying, Roman using his powers for no good, he's being so weird about virgin!reader, angsty fluff lol

summary: after having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...

word count: 7,406 (you know me, not sorry anymore)

a/n: this is part 4 of my series seven minutes in heaven! click here to read; part 1, part 2, part 3! enjoy!!!<33

Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.

It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.

We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.

Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.

Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"

"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"

Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with. 

However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."

With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"

Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind," 

"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.

To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"

I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."

"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."

It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."

Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..."  Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."

Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."

Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"

There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."

It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute." 

To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck. 

I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work. 

The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.

And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.

I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.

I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least. 

So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.

I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak. 

Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."

My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?" 

Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck. 

My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.

I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"

There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps. 

I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.

Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?

Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"

I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.

Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.

Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't." 

Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.

I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.

It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.

In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by. 

I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again. 

No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.

I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.

"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."

My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it. 

All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"

I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"

Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"

"... No,"

"Would you want to be?"

What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"

Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"

"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."

"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"

He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap." 

It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"

"What?"

"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"

That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"

Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."

"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."

"Say what?"

"That you like me,"

I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel," 

It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."

That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips. 

"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."

I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"

"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."

Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked. 

Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"

I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."

"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."

I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction. 

Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."

His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha. 

The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often. 

It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.

Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.

Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."

"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"

His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."

Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt. 

My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."

Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"

I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to. 

Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.

I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey. 

Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings. 

I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?

However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.

My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind. 

Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed. 

It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.

I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.

Oh no.

Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sititng by her like docile animals.

Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"

"Which is...?"

Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck this morning. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"

There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"

Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"

Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.

"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"

Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.

As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy. 

With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."

Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.

Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?

I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.

I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked. 

Or... so I hoped. 

I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.

It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?

Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.

I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.

"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."

I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"

"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"

I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine. 

Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?" 

Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"

My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."

"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"

I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.

Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.

I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"

"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face. 

It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"

"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"

I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"

"Tell me,"

"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"

Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.

And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"

"Who?"

I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right? 

I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine," 

"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.

"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."

Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"

"Yeah,"

"And she did it because you're with me?"

"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?

Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"

I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."

As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.

My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"

Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.

I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.

Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.

These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"

It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!" 

I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car. 

"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands. 

I was screwed. I was so screwed. 

(a/n: check out part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you haven't!! thank you for reading, more to come!!<33)

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Hello!

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth

Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.

They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.

I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.

Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk

When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.

It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.

Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.

Posts here and here

Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?

Yeah...

Actively calling out anon

Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.

Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.

Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.

Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.

Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.

Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.

Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?

Good. Moving on.

After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.

This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.

A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.

Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-

I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.

1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?

2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.

3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves

4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.

5) it felt just fucking dull

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.

I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.

I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.

I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.

Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.

If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.

So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget. You can. If you want. I don't care if you do. But I ask you not to forget. Please.

I am tagging Jack's taglist

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Favorite Season 6 fics

So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)

Season 6

🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)

🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone

🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for

🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

AUs

🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]

🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):

collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?

that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.

something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Tera and Kiara. "Birthday Emergency"

Today was Tera Doorman's sixteenth birthday. And Kiara had already gotten her best friend the best gift she could possibly think of. A red flannel shirt!

it might seem lame, and to anyone else it probably was. But Tera had been asking her parents for any new clothes they could find after she had officially transferred over to her teenager body, and now a lot of her clothes didn't fit quite right because she'd shot up like a weed! She was just as tall as Mrs. V now! Way taller then any other worker drones and especially taller then Kiara herself, a good foot taller. And she'd seen Tera eyeing it when they walked passed the shop window, like all things when it came to her best friend, she never outright said she wanted it, luckily for her she didn't need to! Kiara knew by now when Tera liked something, even when she was trying to hide it.

So she was making her way to Tera's house, gift lovingly wrapped and tucked into her backpack as they'd just got out of school. Her grey converse flattening the blue grass underneath her feet as her vents took in the fresh air. the walled little village of Sanctuary was beautiful in the spring, nestled under the thick shade of jungle canopy with flowers of every color sprouting from the tangled vine covering the circle of metallic houses that made up the colony. A Pump-Jack in the middle that thrummed each time it made it's cycle. The beating heart of town, it's lifeblood running through all of the drones that lived there.

Tera lived closer to the town gate, so that's where she was off to, the houses were stacked on top of each other. a sturdy walkway the only thing connecting the upper houses to the lower ones, she'd have to climb it. Tera's family lived right at the top, the home being slightly larger then all the others. Witch made sense, Tera's mom was the leader of the colony after all.

When she got there she rapped on the wooden door, the entire thing vibrating on it's hinges for a moment before opening wide to reveal the smiling face of Tera's father. N. Missing his signature cap at the moment, and wearing a coat that covered most of his body.

"Kiara! I was wondering when you would stop by!" He wrapped her in a crushing hug, tail wagging behind him. Kiara couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. She wished her own dad was as happy to see her!

"Hi Mr.Doorman! I'm here to give Tera her birthday gift!" She greeted after he put her down. Shaking her backpack (in the visage of a mouse) gently up at him, smiling from visor seam to visor seam. N looks down at her, a slightly confused expression taking over his face.

"She's not with you? We figured you two would've come in together when she didn't show up here right after school." The same look of confusion passed over Kiara's face. Tera had told her she was headed straight home since it was the weekend, and she wanted to practice on her guitar before her parents threw her "Gotcha Day." party. It usually lasted two days or so, starting Friday evening and going on into the day Saturday. Which meant: Sleepover! (She'd already packed her pajamas!)

But if Tera wasn't here where was she?

"No. She's not with me, she said she was going straight home." She explained, confusion turned to worry on both father and best friend. N hummed, putting a finger underneath his chin. "That's odd, Tera would call us if she went somewhere..."

He was right. Tera absolutely would not lie about where she was going, if she wasn't here, something must have held her up. Maybe Rad had seen her? or more accurately, would he be the one talking her ear off about some new skateboarding trick he learned?

So she called him, not even having to scroll through her system contacts to find him, he was listed right under Tera.

It took only a single ring for him to pick up.

"Hey K. Was just on the way over to T's house for the party. Am I late or something?" His raspy, yet somehow soft voice hit her audio receptors. Well, that answered that question, she wasn't with Rad.

"Sorry, I was just calling to see if Ter-Bear was with you. But it doesn't sound like it." She sighed, forcing down the butterflies in her stomach at the sound of his voice. No time for that! Best Friend was missing!

"Nah. Not with me. Thought  I saw her heading into the gym when I left, maybe she's still there?"

The gym? There wasn't any reason for her to go into the gym when school was letting out.

"Thank yooou. I'm gonna look for her, she's gonna miss her own party!" She replied, and Rad responded with a chuckle. "Maybe she went to fight someone. wouldn't be the first time." He hung up, the double beep signifying the calls end.

That was true... Tera could be described as explosive from time to time. But it was usually only in defense of her friends, not for no reason.

Well... she had been acting strange today, being a bit quieter then usual, taking more sips from her flask and being a little... moody. But Tera had assured her everything was fine! She just felt a little warm was all. But now Kiara was concerned She hoped Tera hadn't just said that to keep her from worrying.

"I'm going to check back at the school Mr. Doorman , Rad said she might still be there." She told N before beginning her decent off the walkway again. N gave her a nod and a wave. "Alright... I'll look around town, maybe she got distracted by something."

Everything Hurt.

Tera was curled up under the bleachers in the gym, holding her sides tightly, panting as she tried to cool herself off, she'd drunk every last drop of oil in her flask that was supposed to last her all week, she'd finished it in less then a day, and it still wasn't enough... nothing was enough.

Her internals were searing, sweat building on her visor as she let out a pathetic whimper. It felt like something was moving underneath her silicone, squirming like some caught prey, she felt like she was going to throw up as she felt it shift in her back.

Another wave of pain overtook her and she sunk her fangs into her own hand to stop from screaming. She was dying, she had to be, no way anything else hurt this bad.

"Tera? Are you here?" Oh no... oh no. That was Kiara's voice, she must have come looking after she didn't show up at home. This was bad, she didn't need to see her like this!

She continued to bite into her own hand to stifle her noises, praying that she could keep herself quiet and unseen long enough for Kiara to move on.

Unfortunatly, that was not happening, as Kiara moved farther into the gym, Tera could feel an unbearable pressure in her backside before-

"AHHHHHH!" She screamed, something breaking through the silicone near her legs with a sickening squelch, boiling oil hitting the floor and running down her legs as she felt something slightly squishy hit her back with a slap. "Oh fuck..."

Tera glanced behind her, a tail with a dozen purple glowing eyes looked back, covered in her own oil now dripping onto the floor.

"Tera!" the commotion led Kiara right to her, tears pricked in Tera's eyelights, from fear or pain or just being overwhelmed, she wasn't sure.

"G-Get out of here!" She begged, her mom had warned her of this of course. Of the day her wings and tail would come in. She knew what came after, the blood-lust, the hunger. "I don't wanna h-hurt you!" Her voice was strained with pain as her tail thrashed. she could feel the fleshy wings just under her casing, pushing and pushing, there wasn't anywhere else for them to go.

"Oh my god! T-Tail..." Kiara kneeled next to her, completely ignoring Tera's plea for her to go, a hand placed on her back that was oh so heavenly cold. It almost made the heat bearable... almost.

"Please... Kiara, leave me here..." She was actually crying now, tears falling unabated on the inside of her visor as she felt a growl escape her mouth, the casing covering her back suddenly fractured, causing Tera to lurch forward in pain.

"Like this? You're burning up!" Kiara exclaimed back, taken aback by Tera's new tail by only a second before she was in front of her, grabbing both sides of Tera's face and lifting it up to face her  pretty white eyelights. "I'm with you Ter-Bear, tell me what you need."

The agonized drone whimpered, words failing as the sensation of cold hands touched her face. Oil she needed Oil.

There was no way in hell she was asking that of her though.

"You need oil, don't you?"

Dammit.

Tera shook her head despite her mouth watering at the thought of it, another wave of pain and she felt the wings started to break through, oil staining her tank top as parts of her casing broke off, she attempted to bite her hand again to stop the scream.

But, Kiara stopped her, grabbing her hand before it could make it to her mouth. "No no no, don't do that..." She hummed softly. "Don't hurt yourself."

"No... Hurt you. Leave..." The words were broken and under static, growling under every note. Kiara shook her head. "I'm not leaving, you won't hurt me. I know you better then that."

Kiara! This was not the time to be stubborn!

"You need oil right? I'm right here, you can take it from me." She offered, Tera's eyelights went hollow, and her mouth watered uncontrollably... the heat was so bad, she felt like she was about to pass out...

"No No No, B-Bad Idea- Bad Idea." More broken words, now more desperate.

"Your mouth is watering, it's okay. I promise..." Kiara drew closer, Tera wanted to pull away, she was trembling as the much smaller girl pulled her up to rest Tera's head into her shoulder, she could hear the oil pumping through the tubing, hell, she could smell it. "You won't hurt me." Kiara repeated again, hugging her gently.

Something snapped.

In a moment, Tera was sinking her fangs into her best friends exposed neck, causing the girl to yelp and stiffen as a brief flash of pain was registered through her system, a warning about a hull breach popped up on her visor but she quickly cleared it, stroking Tera's head.

Two things happened at once. A pair of fleshy wings erupted out of Tera's back, and she could feel Tera bite down on her neck harder in response, and... yeah it hurt. But Tera was probably in way more pain, so she did her best to not wince. Then Tera suddenly gripped her harder, she could feel oil pouring into her best friends mouth and out of her at a frightening rate. Her breath stuttered as more warnings began to arrive, she shut them out too, and stroked through a head of thick black hair instead.

"Mmmhuh... You... almost done?" She began to feel woozy, She was loosing... a lot of oil. But she still wasn't scared. Tera would stop, they would both be fine, she knew that.

Then, at her words, she heard a blessedly familiar sound erupt from Tera.

She was purring, her tail wrapping around Kiara's frame as the amount of oil she was loosing slowed to a trickle, a series of whimpers then followed, as she felt a long tongue lick up the wound until it stopped leaking, and Kiara felt herself sigh in relief, there she was...

It took a moment for Tera to register where she was and what she was doing, she pulled back, frightened by the massive bite mark she'd left on Kiara's neck, But Kiara just smiled, much more relieved that Tera was back to herself and collapsed into the taller girls chest.

“W-what just happened?” Tera asked, stammering as she blinked around in confusion, there was the taste of the sweetest oil she'd ever tasted in her mouth.

“Mmm. Aha… I'm kinda dizzy.” Kiara's voice came muffled from being buried in Tera's tank top. Followed by a tired giggle.

“Kia! I'm so sorry! I was just so hot and- Kia?” It didn't matter what she said, Kiara had fallen asleep the moment she knew Tera was okay. Curling up into Tera's lap as the purple eyed drone tried not to panic.

For the moment though… she let Kiara sleep, tail still wrapped around her frame as Tera flexed her new wings behind her with a sigh.

“You stubborn…. Ugh. I could've killed you.” She mumbled, moving some blonde hair out of Kiara's face. [Recovery Mode] reading out on her visor. But she couldn't stop the purring that came from her core. “You trust me too much.”

And yet, there they stayed, Tera stroking down Kiara's back, until Kiara recovered enough to wake back up…

[spaceorphan18]

In defense of Season 2 Polin

@somedayillbepeterpan I hope you don't mind, I'm responding to your post, but also making one of my own, because I'm diatribing a bit.

I think -- season 3 makes way more sense after watching season 2. I mean - I enjoyed season 3 without remembering anything from Season 2, but I think Colin's story, in particular, works a lot better with the foundation that Season 2 gives it. Because it's there. (Did I want more of it in season 3 -- yes, yes I always want more, but they had limitations.)

But I mean, Pen and Colin's friendship is solidified in Season 2, in a way that it wasn't in Season 1. Season 1 they had a connection, yes, but it was a lot more like the book(s). There's a distant familiarity there. There's a kindness and respect there. But Season 2 really dug into the friendship, and thus a friends to lovers story. The fact that Pen wrote Colin while he traveled? Huge thing (that wasn't in the books). The fact that they discussed their life ambitions? The fact that they showed character growth in both their individual story arcs? All of this is the foundation for Season 3. Season 3 doesn't work without Season 2.

And it's one reason I really, really love their story because it's not - bam, struck by lightning, now we're in love. It's an evolution. The characters have spent time developing together and on their own. They've grown and matured and had experiences and have learned from those experiences. They've developed a relationship that's built around more than sexual arousal but eventually managed to figure out those romantic feelings on top of the friendship ones.

There's a complexity and multi-faceted story there that is working on a lot of different levels. And Season 2 just does so well to portray that. And honestly, I'm looking forward to Season 4, because we'll get to see a different side to these characters in a post-center piece world. Their romance didn't start in season 3, and it doesn't stop in season 3 either. Something that is unique to just them is that they'll (most likely) get the opportunity to have their story shared over a multitude of seasons. Because (and I mean no disrespect when I say this - the other romances are unique to those stories) their story is not just one story, but does what TV shows do best, and is an arc where the characters have been growing and developing since day one, and will continue to do so until the show ends or Nicola Coughlan pronounces she's done (and hopefully the two will coincide.)

[petew21-blog]

Great Shift stories, Henry and Joey

Paparazzi:"Gentlemen, smile. Look to the right. Yeah. Good"

Henry and Joey were at the front of the hall, where the press conference was about to be held, before the release of the new Witcher season. They were all instructed to suit up and arrive. Henry felt like he was betraying Joey. They were about to announce soon, that he was leaving the Witcher TV series and passing the role to Liam Hemsworth. Henry didn't want to continue playing Geralt if the story wouldn't be more faithful to the books. Unfortunately, Joey already signed his contract and therefore had to play Jaskier for another year without Henry.

They stood next to each other. Joey couldn't pretend that he was happy. He was angry, because Henry didn't tell him soon enough how he felt and that he was leaving, trapping Joey in a job he started to hate. He felt betrayed

Back then nobody knew what happened in the following moments. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was intentional. But all they knew was that suddenly all around them was pure chaos. The whole city confused and screaming. Most of the planet swapped bodies with someone standing close to them. Some were very unlucky, in some cases the swap was lethal or caused many people to die. But some people got really lucky. Just like Joey and Henry here

They were obviously both shocked when they found themselves in each other's bodies. But they were interrupted by the people around them screaming and shouting at each other.

Joey in Henry's body:"Henry? Is that you? I'm you!"

Henry in Joey's body:"Is this real? Is it really happening?"

Joey:"I think it is. And I don't think we're the only ones. Maybe we should go somewhere more quiet."

Joey starts walking away, but as soon as Henry moves his body a sharp pain shoots from the back of his body.

Henry:"Ah fuck. Wait. There's something wrong. It feels like..."

Joey started smiling, realising.

Henry didn't find the pain that bad anymore and was slowly figuring out, what it was.

Henry:"Joey? Is that what I think it is?"

Joey:"I don't know what you're talking about"

Henry started laughing at his old face

Henry:"Hahahaha. No you didn't. Holy shit you're naughty, Joey. You really went to a press con with a dildo up your ass? Wow. I never thought that you'd be able to do this."

Joey:"Maybe we should go?"

Henry:"Oh fuck, we are. I really need to take a proper look at that thing stuck inside of me now "

Joey went first and couldn't stop smiling, as he heard Henry struggling to walk properly

But Henry was getting more and more into it. He never had a dildo up his ass. And this one was BIG.

They got into an empty hotel room nearby.

Joey went to the bathroom first to piss and left Henry outside. Henry started throwing his clothes off to the ground. But stopped, once he felt the thing in him move. He got on his knees and felt his own ass trying to push it in and out. An overwhelming feeling caused him to moan out loud and hold ok tightly to the bed sheets.

He heard the bathroom door open

Joey:"You wanna use the bathroom?"

Henry got up and without saying a word went to the bathroom while grabbing his old body's cheeks playfully on the way.

He wanted to look at himself in the mirror, but he needed the dildo to move. He needed to find a better position. But another unwanted movement caused him to collapse into the bath still in his clothes.

He just sat there leaning on the edges of the bath, moving his ass up and down in the air. Causing the dildo to move up and down. He was now covered in sweat. His body was begging to be fucked

Joey:"You need some help with that?" He pointed at his ass

Henry needed to be fucked. And there was a thing much better than the dildo in his ass

He leaned to the front and grabbed his old semi-hard bulge looking seductively into his old eyes

Henry:"Whip it out big boy. You got a hole to patch. And I need it"

Joey:"Are you sure you..."

Henry:"Fuck me right now!!!"

Joey threw off his pants and boxers. Leaving himself in Henry's Grey shirt only

Henry:"I want you to show me how you can be better than that dildo"

Joey:"I'm not really sure about this"

Henry:"Please just fuck me already. I can't take this anymore"

Joey helped Henry to take off his clothes. He turned him around to let him hold the edge of the bath. He then grabbed the base off the dildo and started moving it up and down rythmically. Henry was moaning in pleasure. No, he was screaming

As soon as Joey got hard, he pulled out the dildo and showed his new huge dick into his old ass. Henry couldn't even tell the difference. But now it was warmer, pulsating. And Joey was pounding him.

They were now one. Combined. Sweaty. Joey was deep inside of Henry moving his intestines.

Henry:"Ah ah ah ah. Fuck me... I need you"

Joey couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out his new dick and shoot the load at his old back.

He was breathing rapidly from the fast tempo. Henry was still holding on. But Joey moved his head to the side and noticed his old dick leaking cum

Joey smiled. Yeah, fuck the betrayal. He's gonna be punishing him for that very often from now own.

Anonymous inbox request:

What about the great shift strikes. And everyone is swapped with the closest person at the moment. A story where henry cavill gets swapped with joey batey before some press con. And henry finds that joey's body has a dildo up his ass and he's so turned up that he begs joey to fuck him.

[skele-bunny]

YOU!!!!!

GIVE ME WATER DEW BONDING WITH AETHER PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE I AM BEGGING ON MY HANDS N KNEES RNNN 🫶🫶🫶

MMEEEEE???!?? hehehe say less... Some aren't bonding but just them bc I'm NOT normal about those 2

Once they got past the hiding stage, or at least better than it used to be, they honestly spent a lot of time reading together! Aether would find one about some niche interest they both shared and he'd read to Dew, and then it'd be Dew's turn. Aether would always stare at Dewy as he spoke, how his tied back hair still managed to have loose strands fall next to his cheek. Just humming and suddenly forgetting what's actually being read to him as he's so entranced with the little fish right in front of him.

How they'd sit in the practice room, just them, always doing some type of parallel play. Aether strumming his acoustic hagstrom while looking over his own music while Dew is cleaning his basses, catching little glimpses at Aether and face getting SO warm. He just didn't know there'd be times Aether just watched him with admiration before looking away so he didn't get caught.

Now when they got SUPER comfortable with each other and Dew's honest personality started coming out; they had a little game with each other. Who could hypnotize who first. Dew, with his siren songs or Aether, with his quintessence. So many times Dew won, just softly singing to Aether who's on his knees and just admiring with this drunken look — but a few times Dew would be a puddle in Aether's hold with eyes full of stars, leaning against him.

When they first bonded together, they didn't mate which was super unnatural. Dew simply wasn't ready, and Aether respected that. How they ignored their own instincts and just held each other tightly through the night. It wasn't for a while until Dew felt comfortable enough to finally mate with him, and man :( it was so gentle and slow. Aether has always been the kinda guy to have candles lit in the bedroom, and Dew will ALWAYS associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla for their first time together.

After they were forcefully retired, Dew finally started the conversation of moving in together. Aether absolutely wanted it, and they had begun filling out the form (which was needed at the time) for a room change. Eventually, though, that form was approved but only after Copia arrived. Dew no longer had a sense of what he wanted. Although approved, Dew still has a separate room with all of his old stuff that he only goes to when he needs alone time. Otherwise, he and Aether share his.

"Firefly" came from Aether watching as Dew's bioluminescence kept going in and out while passing through tunnels on the tour bus. He knew it was just because of the lighting but he still found it beyond adorable. "Teddy" came from Dew half asleep and kept whimpering needing his teddy bear he had at the time, stumbling into what he thought was his bunk but instead Aether's and clinging to him.

Dew was a Fergie lover back then, and so many times would just be singing and dancing with Aether in his room. Glamorous and Clumsy was his favorites, and Aether finally gifted him the CD one day and ever since then for like three whole months, you could hear Fergie in the den. Aether got SOOO much shit for it by the others bc to be honest, after hearing Fergalicious after so many times can drive someone mad, but Aether didn't mind. He'd eventually start singing Fergie without realizing and Dew would get SO fucking excited.

There was a brief period where Dew would suddenly bite Aether, and Aether would never figure it out as to why or what would trigger it. They'd just be cuddling and then BAM, his arm is bit. They're making dinner, Dew reaches over on his tiptoes and bites his shoulder. Every time Aether would ask "What was that for?" Dew would just purr soooo much and stay silent. To this day, he still doesn't know that it was Dew laying claim on him. Water ghouls and biting man....

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

As per the poll results, we are giving Damas stress via Just Plain Silliness. It builds character. Not that I needed an excuse to Inconvenience Characters in the first place 😆 it's become my favorite way of writing anything. Not Angst or Adventure, but Aggravation of Character in ridiculous ways 😂

This falls into the Trespasser au (last "episode" of that found HERE) a bit before the second Arena fight in the game.

The king of Spargus, Jak decided, was a killjoy.

For a city where strength and survival were supposed to be the most important traits, he sure didn't like any of Jak's demonstrations of strength or survival.

"You can't race Leapers in the middle of the market."

"Don't swim over the reef."

"Stop antagonizing the monks."

"You can't race Leapers on neighborhood roofs, either."

"If I told you not to swim over the reef, why would you assume I'd be okay with you feeding the sea monster?!'

It was like he was vehemently opposed to the mere concept of fun.

Jak folded his arms and tried not to roll his eyes while Kleiver complained about the scuffed up suspension and undercarriage on the Dune Hopper. Sure, he'd cut it a little close on the broken bridge, but he'd gotten away with the artifacts and left the Marauders in a two car pile up, so who was the winner, here?

Not Jak, apparently.

Damas listened to Kleiver yell about how he'd have to redo the entire suspension -- a gross exaggeration -- and how there was half a metalhead stuck in the undercarriage. Now that, Jak hadn't known about. When had he run over a metalhead?

"Hey! We didn't do that!" Daxter protested, "How do we know you didn't put that there last time you drove?!"

"Because I don't take the Hopper if I plan to do a run down Turquoise Canyon!" Kleiver snapped.

Damas steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and examined the damaged vehicle.

"One of these days, kid, I swear to Volcan-"

"What?! I got the job done, didn't I?" Jak protested indignantly. "Did you want the Marauders to get their hands on a functioning power cell?"

Damas’s jaw tightened so much that his mouth appeared to be folding inward. He inhaled slowly, and let it out again, ears twitching while he was very obviously counting to ten.

"There are no jumps in the canyon," he said slowly, "So how did you manage this?"

Jak shrugged nonchalantly. "The 'rauders chased us out to the ruins," he explained, "Ran out of turbo, so I had to get creative with the jump."

Kleiver started swearing very creatively under his breath. Damas turned an interesting shade of red.

"That does it."

The king grabbed Jak by the channeling ring and near dragged him out of the garage before Kleiver could clobber someone with a wrench.

"One more stunt like that out of you," Damas threatened, "and I'm entering you into an apprenticeship. Let's see you foment chaos with an actual structure in your day."

"You're not gonna do that," Jak scoffed.

Damas’s eyes narrowed. "Try me."

Jak did not take this nearly as seriously as he ought to have. In fact, he seemed to regard the threat as more instances of Damas "worrying too much". Damas did not worry too much! If anything, he wasn't worried enough about the insanity this young unknown relative had brought into his city! More than one advisor or guildmaster had been privy to the king muttering darkly, "I'm either going to kill him, or start training him myself. I'll let you know when I've figured out which."

And of course, Jak kept being Jak. Climbing the Arena walls because he saw a Precursor orb someone had dropped. Messing around with some kind of evil alien satellite on the beach. Inciting other inhabitants of the youth barracks to join foot races in the barrack halls in the dead hours of night. And he seemed to regard all of this as perfectly normal behavior. It was like all the impulses he'd had to shove down in Haven, all the ways he'd had to be perfect to fit under the yoke of that terrible word, hero, everything came crashing down in Spargus. He had almost no limits here, and that kind of freedom seemed to awaken a wildness that was above the paygrade of the dorm supervisor.

It came to the point where Damas was actually allowing the kid to go out into a sandstorm, just to get some of that boundless energy out! It wouldn't have been his first choice. Or even his tenth. But the storm rolling in was much larger than anything else they'd seen that summer. And for all his recklessness, Jak was their fastest driver.

"Four scouts have not reported in," the king told Jak and Daxter. His face was grim. "Two just set off their emergency beacons. At the rate this storm is going-"

He shook his head, cutting off his sentence.

Daxter had worried that Spargus would be another Krew situation at first. But here was the king of the cranky lizard-riders, flipping out because a handful of scouts -- one of the lowest ranks in the city -- weren't accounted for before a deadly storm.

In Haven, their absence wouldn't have even been noticed until roll call.

The old timers in the market were right, weren't they? "King's eyes see all." This guy watched everyone like a hawk, didn't he? Daxter wasn't sure if that bothered him, or if it just reminded him of Jak.

He supposed that was fitting, considering the two were probably related, no matter how in denial Jak seemed to be about being an Heir of Mar.

"Where's the Crawler right now?" Jak asked.

The mobile sandstorm shelter wasn't invincible, but it could take a lot. That would be the scouts' best bet.

Damas looked out the windows, glaring at the dark clouds as though he could hold the storm back by sheer force of will. It took a moment to hear his voice over the water.

"The Crawler is in the steppes at the moment. She's not a fast vehicle, Jak. I need you to get those scouts to either the Crawler or the city."

"I will."

Damas turned a stern look on them both.

"No stunts. These are people's lives we're talking about."

"I know!" Jak sputtered, a little offended. "And I won't bust the car up this time, so Kleiver can give it a rest."

"No. I'm serious, boy," Damas warned, "If it comes down to abandoning the car for shelter or trying to drive in the storm, you leave the car. Do you understand?"

Jak huffed. Damas had seen him outrun sandstorms before! What was so bad about a slightly bigger one?

"I got it, I got it," he grumbled.

Damas glared.

"No. Stunts. You get back here in one piece."

"Okay, I got it already!" Jak groaned.

"Jak-!"

"I know, Dad!" Jak complained.

An instant later his eyes widened.

The water suddenly seemed much louder than usual.

Daxter wasn't even sure any of them were breathing.

Three pairs of dramatically widened eyes darted back and forth between them as silence built up like steam under pressure. It was going to erupt sooner or later, the question was how.

Damas made a very small, strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Jak snapped out of his moment of horrified realization.

"Uh. I'll let you know when everyone is accounted for!"

He pivoted and bolted for the elevator before Damas could see his entire face burn crimson.

A guard at the back of the chamber opened his mouth to comment and in one rushed tangle of syllables Jak hissed,

"Youdidn'thearanything!"

Damas didn't blink for a good two minutes after Jak had left.

He didn't move for a good two minutes.

He stood exactly where he'd been, staring blankly at the empty elevator shaft.

The captain of the tower guard, an older man named Cephus, left his place by the windows to lean into Damas’s peripheral vision. He waved slightly, and the king finally blinked.

"Are you alright, sire?" Cephus asked.

Damas made a curious wheeze before speaking through a groaning inhalation.

"Oh no."

"Hm!" Cephus stroked his long beard. "Guess the wild one imprinted on you! Do I offer congratulations or condolences?"

Damas nodded slowly and stiffly.

"....help."

There could not possibly have been a worse time for the monks to finally send him the results of the blood test.

[jezabelle9299]

Intimidating S.R x FEM! reader

Overture-While you're cataloging a new collection in the archives, a young Spencer Reid wanders down in search of an art print stored in a different archive.

Inspired by the opening of season 2 episode 14 'The Big Game', when Gideon visits the Smithsonian to look at Havell's Audubon paintings. (We're going to pretend this isn't the episode Reid gets kidnapped in) Later piece is inspired by any of the many times prostitutes flirt with Reid throughout the early seasons. I looked at a few maps and online catalogs of the museums current collections to kinda figure out how long it would take to walk there, and what pieces are stored where, but it might not be 100% accurate so don't hold me to it.

Cws- Brief mentions of robbery and prostitution (separate occasions)

A/N- This has been bouncing around my brain like a DVD menu screen, I'm so excited about it. I'm a museum studies major so I'm making this girl live all of my dreams.

Your favorite part of the job by far, was cataloging the new pieces. Whether they were from other museums or private collections, unpacking those boxes let you indulge in a bit of nosiness everytime. This particular collection was from a recently closed exhibit, so you were doing the overnight shift. No one else was in this part of the museum, and your boss was doing a showing of some prints to a collections enthusiast so you had the place to yourself. 

You threw on some headphones and got to work, once you finished this you could go home. You’d just cataloged and packed the first half of the pieces, but as you were about to start on the rest, you saw something move out of the corner of your eye. Archives were a slightly creepy place to be at night anyway, the shelves looming over you, and the underground structure providing little light outside of your small workspace, but that was definitely unusual. When you finally turned around, there was a full-on stranger walking towards you. He was about your age, but he definitely didn’t work here, you would’ve remembered 

“Jesus! Walk louder! I didn’t hear you come down here.” 

“I called out twice to try and see if there was anyone down here.”

“Point taken.” You shrugged it off, you’d never seen him before. He definitely didn’t work here, he was cute and about your age. You’d remember him. You both stood there just kind of looking at each other, not fully sure what would happen next.

“Are you going to like— rob me now? Or maybe introduce yourself?”

“Oh! Sorry, my name's Spencer Reid, I was here with a colleague. He was looking at some ornithology prints upstairs, and he told me to come down to find—well you I assume, and get the last print in the set, and ask for directions to the coffee machine?”

“Sure! Just come over here and I’ll look it up for you.” You set down your clipboard to head back to your little desk, the only one with the lamp still on. 

“So, what exactly are you looking for?”

“It’s a Robert Havell, Frigate Pelican.” You typed in the name into your system to make sure, but you knew now why your boss didn’t come to get it himself. It wasn’t in this museum, it was in the archive under the Renwick gallery, almost a mile away. 

“Alright, I can be back with it in like an hour, it’s at the gallery on 17th street. This was a split collection and it’s still in that archive. There’s a coffee machine down the hall on your left, and I can meet you back in my boss’s office.”

“An hour? Are you walking this late at night?” 

“Yep. But I’ll go as quickly as possible.”

“I can’t in good conscience let you walk that far by yourself this late at night, would it be alright if I came with you?” 

“Alright! Only if you want to though, I promise you don’t have to.”

“I want to, if that’s ok.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” You smiled at him, and while you were grabbing your keys and ID, he went from relieved you said it was ok, to completely red at the idea of being around you alone for the next hour. He was stuck in place as you passed him and got halfway down the hall, before he started running to catch up. 

“Where exactly are we going?”

“We need to go up the elevator, through the garden, and then it’s pretty much a straight shot down 15th and through Lafayette park.”

“I thought we could get through the archives?”

“We could, but it would take longer. I get distracted easily, and it’s a nice night out anyway.”

*****

About halfway through your walk, you’d already felt like you knew him. When you were passing through a particularly busy part of the street, someone called out to you. Well not you, they called out to Spencer. 

“Hey cutie, you’re back. I told you I’d remember you.” A woman in high heels, a fur coat, and shorts entirely too short for the chilly weather, called out for him. You didn’t place any judgment on her, but the look you gave Spencer. Shock, and trying your best to stifle laughter at his panic.

“Oh–um. Have a good night.” He rushed off, in his haste grabbing your elbow to pull you along with him. Once he’d gotten far enough away for his embarrassment to pare down, he let go of you, realizing with a whole new sense of self-consciousness that he touched you without even thinking about it. 

“That was not what it looked like. I swear– I was talking to her with my boss last week, we were doing interviews for a case; and she well– she called me cute, which is what that was about.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I would tend to agree with her anyway– you are pretty memorable.”

“I– thank you. You’re memorable too.”

You walked the rest of the way with Spencer almost trailing a half step behind you. You were so mesmerizing, he just couldn’t help it. 

By the time you finished the walk, arriving at the security booth to get back inside the archives, you already felt like you knew Spencer. 

“ID please.” The security guard spared a singular glance towards yours, and you realized you forgot to ask Spencer if he had his on him. 

“Oh I forgot they check IDs of any guests coming into the archives, you have your driver's license on you, right? Or any ID is probably fine. I didn’t even think about it.”

While you were rambling about it, Spencer pulled out his credentials, showed it to the guard as if it were nothing. Because he’s a federal agent -apparently- he didn’t need a visitor badge. 

“You’re in the FBI?”

“Yes?”

“How on Earth did that never come up on the twenty minute walk here.” You finally got moving again towards the art storage, now trailing alongside Spencer, more focused on him than looking where you were going. 

“It did.” 

“When?”

“Why did you think I was interviewing a prostitute?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were like– a lawyer or something. You’re so fancy! And nice! And you know– Young!” 

“I–you think I’m fancy?”

“You’re wearing a suit with a sweater vest at 9pm on a Saturday night.” 

“Fair enough. But no, I'm not a lawyer. I’m glad you think I’m nice though.” It was your turn for your face to heat, and for you to hide your head. 

“Of course I think you're nice.”

When you finally found what you were looking for, you started heading back. He told you about some of his interests, but mostly he wanted to know about you. All you wanted to hear about was him though, he was so interesting. 

“What do you do for the FBI?” 

“Behavioral Analysis”

“Oh my god. Oh if I’d known that I would’ve changed everything I’ve done so far. That’s– I mean that’s so intimidating” And now he was laughing at you. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever described me as intimidating. Off-putting and annoying sure, but intimidating is new.” 

“You’re very intimidating. I’ve never met a guy who knew that much about historical art without even being in the field before, and now I know you could read my behavior? I must’ve come off like a total idiot like–15 times by now.”

“I don’t think so, quite the opposite actually.”

“Well thank you, but I was making a conscious effort not to make it clear I have a huge crush on you, and then you tell me you could tell anyway?” 

“You have a crush on me?”

“Well–yeah. I thought you could tell.”

“Not really.”

“Oh.” It felt like an eternity before he responded.

“I have a crush on you too, for the record.” 

“Yeah?”

“Most definitely.”

An older man came out of the building before you could walk back in.

“Reid! Where’d you go? JJ called, we need to leave for the office.” 

“Oh–um, I’ll call you? What’s your number?” You checked your lanyard and your pockets as best as you could while holding the flat-packed print. 

“I don’t have a pen or anything on me.”

“You can just tell me, I’ll remember it.”  After you said your goodbyes he disappeared again, and you went to put away the rest of the collection. Spencer called you the next morning to set up your first date, and though he never stopped amazing you, you wouldn’t describe him as intimidating anymore.

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#7. GOOD FUCKING BYE!

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

Park Jimin × Reader

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

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Grinding/ Dry Humping/Cuming in Pants/ Oral (M.Receiving)/ Fingering/ Public sex (kind of)/ Word 'slut' and 'whore'/ Angst toward the end/ INFIDELITY

Word count- 16k (I'm not sorry anymore.)

a/n- So, this on took so long. But I hope it's worth the wait. I worked so hard on this one genuinely hope you'll enjoy. Thakyou so much for reading.

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

Cold beams of sunlight are seeping through the beige curtains of the cottage room. Creating dappled patterns on the wooden floor. Your cheek is pressed against Jimin’s chest. Eyes wearily staring at his laptop screen. This is a very stupid idea. Agreeing to stay awake another day. Especially, when you’re drunk. At this moment, you want nothing but to sleep the exhaustion away. You’ve drunk enough water to sober up. Since neither of you were hungry, decided you’ll wait till the morning. A good shower refreshed you. Yet you and Jimin are still slightly drunk.

When he asked you to stay. Asked you to pretend that this is normal and keep being insane. You’ve thought he was going to continue. Continue from where he stopped. Make you cum again and again. But the moment he just dragged you inside your room, he had insisted you to take a shower. Then he did the same. From that very moment this is what you’ve been doing. Watching some interesting and intriguing drama. But no matter how intriguing the drama is, you’re a little bit disappointed. No, you’re deeply disappointed.

Why? Why isn’t he doing anything?

True, he is holding you close. You’re entangled with each other. His hand is curled around your figure. Drawing mindless patterns in your forearm occasionally. Still, that is it. It’s quite weird to be honest. Everything is weird anyway. You should feel guilty. And you do. But the sensation of his warm body and the beating of his heart make that guilt wash away. There’s an elephant in the room. Too large to be ignored. Funny how you both keep ignoring it. You convince yourself that it’s okay. You agreed to pretend this is normal for a day anyway. The thing is, however, that you thought that normal would be fucking each other’s mind out. You hoped you two would be satiated and no longer will be drooling at each other. As much as how wrong it still is, you thought it would at least put an end to the mess.

Then, here you are. Oddly wrapped in one another’s embrace. How strange.

You jump when Jimin takes away his hand from your forearm and places it in your cheek. Even after being this way for few hours, his hands are still a little bit cold. He rubs your cheek affectionately.

“You’re not sleepy, are you?” Mumbles into your hair. You shake your head without raising it. “Are you too tired? Do you wanna sleep? We can sleep if you want to. You don’t have to stay awake if it’s too hard.” Asks again. Worry etched in his voice. Makes you snort. Your heart is swelling, nonetheless. Throughout your time watching this, you really didn’t watch the drama. You more of talked and talked about many things. So, you were not sleepy. That and the uncontrollable beating of your heart. Your body and mind were restless. Now, though, your heart is calming down. Your body is starting to relax.

“I’m fine Park.” You mutter into his cozy hoodie. Lazily. Stifling a yawn. Making Jimin’s chest rumble as he chuckles at that. He pauses the drama playing on the screen. You let out a noise of protest. Not that you really want to watch it, but the protagonist is about to uncover the truth. Jimin doesn’t give a fuck about it, however. Closes the device and puts it aside. Fumbles around, making you sit up straight. He follows, leaning against the headrest. You whine. There’s no ounce of strength left in you. You don’t even want to lift a finger. But then, he slips his hand under your thigh, pulls it over his lap. Manhandling you to straddle his lap. Suddenly, you’re not tired anymore. Your droopy eyes are all wide now. Heart is back to thumping madly, making your breath hitch. You gasp.

“Jimin.” Mumble as he settles you comfortably on his lap. Knees pressing onto the mattress from either side of him. You didn’t really bring any clothes. Everything you packed was Liya’s. Hence, you’re wearing Jimin’s clothes. Yet again. Sweats and a T-shirt. Cozy. Smells like him. Drive you insane. You’re a fucking pervert after all.

Jimin hums in answer as he nuzzles his nose against yours. Wraps his arms around your waist and brings you impossibly closer. Flushed against him. Places his chin on your shoulder.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Asks the same thing for the millionth time now. This time in your ear. Voice low. Doesn’t wait for your answer when he starts to press his lips onto your neck. It’s okay to let him know it feels good now. So, you moan. A breathless one. Pathetic. A single touch is enough to get your head spinning. You’re certain he knows that. Of course, he does. Knows exactly what he is doing when his kisses turn into little sucks and nibbles on your skin. Focusing on the spot that gets your toes curling.

Finally!

“Are you sure baby?” He starts rubbing your back, all the while keeping his lips on you. You whimper. Your own hands clinging on to him for your dear life. One on his shoulders and the other on the back of his neck.

“I’m okay Jimin…” You want to say more but he is making you rock your hips now. His hands slipping inside your T-shirt. Touching your bare back. His touches feel so good. Better when he drags his hands to your front. Starting to fondle with your breasts. Nipples are already hard and aching. He massages them softly, with both of his hands, occasionally circling the nipples with his thumbs. You pull away from his body a little bit. Only enough to face him and find his lips on yours. Feel a little bold now. Are eagerly rocking your hips, dragging your clothed cunt over his hardening length. Can feel it hardening against you. How good that feeling is. Jimin kisses you back eagerly. Instantly sneaking his tongue inside and lapping against yours. Turning the kiss into messy and sloppy. Heated. Working against you seamlessly.

You hate the layers of clothing you have. Want to feel everything. To think about it, you’ve came every time; he never has. He has seen everything of you. You haven’t. You think that’s beyond being unfair. You pull away, tugging at his hoodie.

“Take it off, please. Wanna see you.” Plead against his mouth. Jimin let’s out a dark chuckle.

“Gosh, I love how you’re so whiny when you’re turned on baby.” His voice is so dark and teasing. Gives you goosebumps all over your skin. It’s fine if he loves it since you love how he gets you so pliant with a single touch. Jimin complies with your plead. Pulls his hoodie over his head in one swift motion. You’ve seen him shirtless before. Yet, the moment his bare chest and abs are revealed, your breath catches in your throat again. Forcing you to press your already soaked pussy hard on his shaft. You both moan at that. Jimin chuckles through his moan. Throws the piece of clothing away, eyes watching you. Amused. Glinting. Your eyes roam over his honey skin. Have no idea what you should do first. He makes the decision for you. Grabs your wrist.

“Touch me baby.” Presses your hand, palm flat against his chest. You’re thrilled to see his breath hitches and muscles tighten under your touch. He drags your palm down, through the expanses of his chest, making you feel every inch of his skin. Toward his defined abs. Makes you touch him properly. Drags your palm down and down, forcing you to adjust your hips to make room. And then he is pressing your palm on his hardened member. Through his sweats but still you can clearly feel the way he twitched, when your hand grazed over. A strangled grunt escapes his throat as he bucks his hips into your hands. And you lose your mind. Literally. Lose it again when he makes your hand rubs over his pulsing dick.

“Feel it baby?” Jimin mutters, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. You nod, taking matters into your hand and start palming his length. Squeezing. Tracing your fingers over. Trying to figure out how big he is by just touching. Taking in the outline of his bulge. Jimin lets you do whatever you want. Just leans against the headrest and watches the way you massage his cock. Play with his cock. Biting back moans and grunts. Until his patience snaps. Making you disappointed when he swats your hand away. You grumble, which turns into a moan as he drags your clothed pussy to replace your hands on his member.

“That’s so mean. You slapped my hand.” You manage to say, pouting. He kisses that pout away.

“Sorry, but I would’ve cum if you kept doing that.” He chuckles breathlessly. Softly pecking your lips in between and making you roll your hips again. You suck in a breath at his words. Stifling a moan.

“Should’ve done that then.”

“Yeah? That would be so fucking embarrassing.” He pulls you in for another kiss. Your hips continue rolling over his.

“No…. That would be so fucking hot. B... besides... it’s n-not fair, you made me cum in my pants.” You’re losing your patience as well. Are getting needy. You want more now. The friction your sodden panties are creating against your folds are not enough. That’s why you try to press even harder each time you drag your hips back and forth.

“Fuck, Lil!” Jimin is helping you the best way he can. Controlling your movements and pressing you down hard. “So, w-what? You want me to cum in pants a-as a revenge?” Asks. Oh, you love how he is stuttering a little bit. Breathless. That’s not what you want, however. Still, when he says that with dark eyes and heavy lids, it looks like a good idea. Makes you aroused even more, if it’s possible.

“N-no, I want it b-because it’s hot.” You don’t realize you’ve picked up your speed. Both of you are breathless messes now. Humping each other like horny rabbits. Jimin laughs and then nods. Agreeing with you.

“Go on then baby. Make me cum.” Starts kissing you again like his lifeline is you. His plump lips land everywhere he can reach. Your lips. Neck. Jaw. Throat. Ears. And you reward him by keep grinding. Until you can’t take it anymore. Until your desire is uncontrollable. You start whining in his ear. Begging him to take your clothes off. Jimin instantly relents. Your top goes first, then your pants. But when you try to do the same thing with your panties, he stops you.

“Keep it.” He drags you back onto his lap. You hum in confusion when he guides you back into your rhythm. He hasn’t taken off his sweats either. Humiliating since you’re the only one who got bared into your ruined panties. He doesn’t answer you. Gives you a menace look instead. You like it. Like it a little too much since you’re into whining and pleading within no time.

“Take your sweats off Jimin.” You pull your best puppy eyes. His self-control is maddening, you hate it. He doesn’t relent this time. Asks something about you wanting him to cum in his pants. You regret saying it ever. “Oh, c’mon… please. Keep your boxers. It’s the same thing.” So, you bargain.

“Yeah? You’re that desperate?” He mocks. You nod. Pathetic.

“Ask for it nicely baby. Beg.” Says again while slightly touching your clit. It’s terrifying how he makes you do whatever he wants. Freaking terrifying how you do as he says without a single thought. Where’s your pride? See, these are the consequences of refraining from satisfying your primal needs. You’re now thinking with your cunt. Only focused on chasing that breathtaking high. So, you beg again and again when he ask you to do so. Like a good little slut. That little voice inside you, which reminds you that what you’re doing is wrong is no longer there. You’ve surrendered to sin completely.

“That’s a good girl. Let me baby.” He finally listens to you. You raise your hip, allowing him to push his sweats down his thighs. Not completely, just enough to reveal his boxers because you’re so impatient. You don’t let him take it off completely as you place your cunt over his boxers in light speed. He gasps at that. “Woah... fuck. Fuck, you’re so greedy.” Says in a shaky voice. Whimpers when you start grinding again. This feels better. Better when you can finally feel his dick part your folds. Even with your panties and his boxers it feels heavenly. You can feel him twitching beneath you. Can feel the warmth against your soaked cunt. But then like he said you’re so greedy. You always want more. That’s how you are back to begging. Asking for more.

“Jesus Lil. Thought you want to make me cum in my pants.” Jimin grunts, pushing his hips upward. Aiding you with your relentless humping. He is impressive. Really impressive to have such a self-control. Get you bit worried about your abilities when he hasn’t already fucked you in hundred different positions. Make you insecure. That’s not the case though. You know he is affected. Very much so. His face is flushed, pupils dilated, eyes still very hooded. Breathing is ragged. Panting heavily and can’t stop entangling his lips with yours for a second. His fingers are digging into your thighs so harshly that they’ll definitely leave marks. On top of everything, he is rock hard beneath you. Dick throbbing but still he has his control.

“Please hm? Jimin please…” You try again. He swears. Accidentally bite your lip harsh, the steady rhythm stumbling. See, he is a goner. Yet doesn’t play it in your way. For much of your dismay.  You are about to complain and call him a mean gremlin when he suddenly hooks a finger inside your panties. Steals your breath away that you’re certain you’re dead when he harshly pushes it aside. Your wet folds directly contact with the cotton material of his boxers. You both moan in content. The friction is harsh on your sensitive clit, but you can’t complain. Being so close to the edge. Every pleasurable drag over his throbbing bulge taking you toward your edge.

You watch in awe, as Jimin’s lower abdomen tenses. At the dark wet spot you’re forming on his underwear, together with him. He is watching too. Taking in how you madly rub your pussy on his hardness. The way you’re moaning and whimpering. The way your breasts bounce. Keeps his finger hooked inside your panties to hold it away from your way.

“I’m ruining your boxers. It’s so messy.” You mumble against his lips in a quiet whimper. He groans.

“Fuck baby… It’s better when it’s messy. I love seeing you lose control, Lil. Keep making a mess baby hm? God, I need you to keep making a fucking mess for me.” He replies breathlessly. Kisses you one time more before dipping down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Sucks harsh and that is the last stroke for you. His name leaves your mouth over and over again as your grip on him tightens. Your thighs shaking. Closing your eyes tight as the intense pleasure explodes over you. Your orgasm hits hard. Jimin moans with you, popping your nipple from his mouth to peer at your pleasure wrecked, fucked up face. Kisses you madly.

“Lil… baby, don’t stop, keep going. I’m so fucking close. Keep going for me, don’t slow down.”

Oh, he is finally losing control. Not the way you are but you’ll take it. His words make you aroused all over again despite the hard orgasm that washed over you just now. The pleasure still lingers but it’s becoming overwhelming. Yet you’re not going to stop. Of course, you’re not. How could you when Park Jimin looks like he is floating on cloud nine. When he’s letting out breathless moans. All because of you. You’re unable to stop. So, you keep going and it doesn’t take much either. He follows you quite closely, hips jerking upward and faltering. Steady you on his lap. Presses his dick hard on your sensitive cunt. Grits his teeth.

“Fuck. Fuck Lil. Goddamn it, just like that. Shit, yes.” Curses as he lets go of your panties, making you slowly rock your hips again. Using you to ride through his high. The wet spot on his boxers expanding with his cum. Oh, how hot that is. Makes you moan again. He chuckles at that, finally stops rocking you on him. Your cunt is still on fire, and you love the wet feeling. His breathless chuckle, however, makes you embarrassed. So, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Turning his chuckle into a quite laughter. Jimin wraps his hands around your half naked figure, bringing you impossibly close to him again. Rubbing your back gently.

“Was it hot?” Asks softly, voice still breathless and trying to calm down. You nod into his neck. “So fucking hot, Park.” Assure him through your shaky breath. He laughs again. Making you both shake.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen but…”

“But...?”

“It would’ve been better to see you, you know. Like see you, see you.” You hide your face in his neck even more. You’re still high from your orgasm that you’re rambling. Embarrassing, nonetheless. To say something like that aloud. You think he might mock you. For being extremely needy. He doesn’t. Instead, squeezes you in his hold, peppering kisses on your naked shoulder.

“Fucking hell, Spring Roll. You’re so damn hot. Did I say that before? Christ, you drive me wild.” He pulls you from your shoulders, demanding you to look at him. Not quite away from him, still keeps your mouth grazing over his. It’s your time to laugh. Roll your eyes, dismissing his compliment despite the butterflies on your stomach. Dangerous. “I’m serious. Love it when you’re needy. And I really, really want to do as you say now, but knowing Taehyung…. I’ll give you five more minutes before he barge in here.” He smirks. Molds the flesh in your ass cheeks. Slaps them slightly. Your breath is hitching again.

 “So, unless you want him to see you like this- I mean if you do, we can con─” You interrupt him by hitting his chest. Causing him to grin again. Already moving away from his lap. “No thanks please.” You mutter as you reach for your discarded T-shirt. Jimin watches you for a minute before suddenly grabbing from your ankle. You stop fumbling with the piece of clothing, turning around. Surprised. The position is awkward as he yanks you to him by your leg. Bends down slightly and his hand is reaching between your thighs. For a moment, you expect him to touch your pussy again when he grazes his fingers inside your inner thigh.

“What?” You question, confused.

“You never told me how you got this.” He shifts his gaze from your thigh to your face. That’s when you notice he is touching your scar. The scar that proved to him you’re not Liya that fated day. The sudden memory of it and Liya makes you awfully uncomfortable. Your excitingly beating heart sinks. And you don’t want to act like it’s okay to get to know each other. This, the thing you’re doing. It’s just for a day. After this day, you need to stop this and do the right thing. That’s the plan and it doesn't include anything about getting close in this kind of way. Jimin curiously inspects your face for a moment. Then probably sensing that you’re not comfortable retrieves his hand fast. A pang hits your chest. Before your brain can process what’s happening, you grab from his hand. Not letting him pull away. Smile softy at him when you answer.

“I got it while riding a seesaw. Uh… it was already broken but I rode it anyway and it cut my thigh. Stupid me.” You watch the way he watches you. That warmth in his eyes are no longer there. Smile wiped off.

Oh, fuck.

See, now, no matter how heavy it feels to remember that what you’re doing is wrong. No matter how messed up this is. You still don’t want to ruin the day. The day hasn’t even started yet. You agreed to have a day. Agreed to pretend it’s normal. And you want that, want this day to be perfect without any heavy feelings. You sigh heavily. Pulls his hand to place it where it was, on your thigh. Leans forward and catch his lips with yours. Catching him off guard. Kisses him tenderly. You’ll have day. Everything’s going to be fine after.

“Any more questions Park?” Grin into his lips. He leaves a sigh as well. You don’t know what’s going on in his head but, are glad when he grins back. Is about to ask something certainly, when a loud thud on your door makes you both wince.

“Rise and shine babies… Stop fucking and get the fuck Out...” Taehyung’s voice echoes through the wooden barrier. Followed by another knock and low curses. “Fuck my head hurts.”

You and Jimin snort at the same time.

……………………………………

Jimin glances at you from the corner of his eyes while adding radish to the simmering broth. A grin spreads across his face to see your focus on what he is doing. Legs dangling over the counter. You sway them back and forth, toes curled inside your socks. Mouth agape as you peer over at the pot. Oh, how adorable you are. And are very distracting that he can’t help but to reach you and smooch your lips now and then. Squeeze your cheeks and laugh when you click your tongue in annoyance.

“Stay focus Park.” You mutter irritably. Yet throw your hands around his neck when he stands between your legs. He knows this is not normal. Knows it’s very wrong. Knows why you suddenly looked uneasy earlier. Still, he can’t help it. He deserves a day, doesn’t he? It’s all for a day. So, he nuzzles your nose with his. “You’re too fucking distractive, Spring Roll.” Passes the blame to you. You gasp, pushing him away. Ignore his protests when you slide out of the counter.

“No. No. Don’t leave.” Jimin catches you in his grasp before you can move away though. Your contagious laughter fills the room. He never knew that just fooling around with someone can be this rewarding. How relaxed he feels right now. How content he feels to see you giggle. Especially, when he starts to tickle your sides. You thrash in hold for moment before saying you won’t leave. Admitting defeat. He slowly loosens his grip, ready to catch you if you try to run. You don’t. Snort at his skepticism but still sit back on a stool. Trying to regain your composure. He likes it better if you can sit back where you were before. But he’ll have to be happy with this. Now it’s less distracting since you’re sitting behind him. 

It's your idea to make hangover soup. It’s a given that all his friends or enemies in that case, are going to feel killer hangovers, after last night’s heavy drinking. Jimin himself is having a headache but it’s bearable. Bearable after you really made him cum in his pants. Bearable when he can hear those pretty giggles of yours. Still, you and he’ll need ways to sober up other than sleeping. There’s a day to pass after all. He could have easily made the soup for just you two, but he is feeling a little bit generous. Hence, this commotion in the kitchen. You and he are the only people who are awake despite Taehyung. Who currently is in a bathroom, throwing his guts out. Serves right for interrupting you earlier.

It takes him no more than another fifteen minutes to get the soup done. Takes the hot stockpot into the kitchen island. Feeling giddy at the sight of you excited. It’s still you two. Jimin has a strong suspicion that Taehyung went back to sleep. Maybe, he decided to spend the rest of his life inside a bathroom. Whatever that is, Jimin is happy it’s just you and him.

You hum in delight at the first taste, head whipping toward him. Eyes adorably wide. Beautifully glinting. The starry fucking night. With secrets. He doesn’t know why he wants to unravel them. Just like he wanted to know how you got that scar.

“Is it good?” Asks instead. You nod furiously. “You’re a God damn good cook Park. Jesus, marry me please.” You say noncommittally as you go back to enjoy your soup. Jimin is gaping at you, however. Knows it’s a joke but here comes those unsettling feelings. Has to shake his head visibly to shake them off, glad you don’t notice. Too immerse in your food.  You hum again and then moan. Look back at him with appreciation, when he forces himself to smile.

“I’m good at everything.” says with a shrug. Is trying to lift the heaviness in his own heart. You scoff.

“I really want to disagree─” You gulp down a spoonful of stock before continuing. In a clueless and happy mood. “But...” Smiles at him. “Maybe you are. I mean you own a fucking business. A CEO. Can cook.” Put down your fingers as to state. Gasp. “Even sing. Can you dance too? Don’t tell me you can. That make me feel so useless and talentless.” Mutter that when Jimin snorts. That unsettling feeling leaves his chest. He is about to say that he is very sorry to tell you that he loves dancing when you don’t let him.

“But seriously Park, how did you do that? I mean the business. I need motivation to finish my degree. Tell me how you did that, the inspirational TED talk.” You shift in your stool, adjusting yourself to face him properly. Jimin hates this. Not that he doesn’t want to tell you. Of course, not. The thing is he can’t tell his story without mentioning one person. He doesn’t want to think about his girlfriend right now. Not when he is cheating on her. Not when he is so fucking selfish not to care what might be happening to her at this moment. On top of all, he doesn’t want you two to be in a sour mood. He likes this. All these moments with you. Loves it and doesn’t want to ruin it. What a selfish prick he is.

Just one day. Just one.

He smiles, trying to act normally. “Ah that’s nothing. I’m not doing it alone, you know? I have those three with me. And what’s TED talk?” Shrugs your request off. You’re not to let it go that easily though. Stubborn. Annoying. Cute. Pretty. Steals his breath when you lean toward his face.

“Oh, c’mon Park. Don’t be like that. We both know you’re not someone to be humble. You’ve a very arrogant ass. This is your chance to brag. So, take it Mister.” You blow breath to his face. Fucking tease. He wants to kiss you again, but you pull away fast. Attention back on your food. “Besides, you have a fancy ass apartment, a freaking expensive car and you guys come to places like this for your vacations. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.” Add that.

Yes, everything you say is true. Only he doesn’t want to say that his apartment is not just his. Liya’s name is on the contract. No, he won’t say her name aloud. He needs to distract you. Needs a distraction for himself as well. Good thing he knows exactly how to do that. You let out a surprised gasp when Jimin reaches for your cheeks. Cups them and squeezes. Making your lips pucker. He ignores your whines of complaint as he places a kiss on your lip. “I don’t have an arrogant ass lady.” Mumbles. Keeps pecking your lips yet stops squeezing your cheeks. Just like he knew, you’re getting distracted. Start kissing him without any reluctance. Well, now Jimin is no longer trying to distract you. Instead, he is the one who is getting distracted. There’s something about you that drives him freaking nuts. Can’t control himself at all. Just a goner. No use in attempting to resist you. He gives in to you willingly, grabbing your forearm to pull you to him. Making you sit on his lap while never letting you stop kissing him. Tongues dancing in sync. Lips wet and getting messy.

Fuck, he can’t get enough either. His dick goes hard instantly, head spinning. Your mouth just slots against him perfectly. That makes him wonder what else would fit that flawlessly with you. Even the thought is making his dick twitch. He intended to do just that this morning. To bury himself to the hilt inside you. Only if his best friend isn’t a pain in the ass. He didn’t take you right on this same countertop yesterday, only because he thought it would be too tiring for you. All the drinks, preparations, dancing, singing might be taking a toll on you. Didn’t want to tire you more even before the day started. Now though, when he knows you’ll be more than willing to take him, he is slowly starting to forget his surroundings.

You are addictive simply. Even though he hasn’t taken you completely yet. The way you kiss him. The desperation in it. Your sweet moans. Your scent. The way you gasp when he kisses your neck and throat. The way you say his name when his hand cups your breast over your T-shirt. He hates that you’re wearing a bra. Not that it’ll stop him. He has a mission, which is to keep eliciting those sweet sounds from you. Pleasuring you is his biggest turn-on. How odd. This is a first. So, he latches his lips over your nipple. Through your lacy bra and your T-shirt. Wets the spot with his saliva, watching your face. You’re becoming a mess quickly. Oh, he is absolutely going to fuck you right here. How beautiful you look.

“Goddammit Lil.” He only pulls away to let you know he is equally affected. Wants you to feel sexy. To know how hard you make him. Then he is back at sucking on your nipple. Biting. Kissing. And is at the verge of bending you over the counter when─

“Yah! For fucking seriously? Are you two on some kind of pill or something? Why are you ravishing on each other like there’s no tomorrow all the time?” Jimin withdraws from you in light speed at Seokjin’s voice.

For fucks sake!

Annoyance bubbles inside Jimin as he sees his older friend standing in the doorway. It pops out instantly, however, when your mortified squeak reaches his ears. You hide your face on his neck and the wet spot on your breasts in his chest. This is embarrassing really. Yet, the best thing to do when caught is to act like it’s nothing. Less embarrassing that way. Jimin clears his throat, holding you close.

“What? It’s not my fault that you don’t get your dick wet.” Answers as casually as he can. Seokjin is obviously about to counter back when his chance is stolen.

“Oh, he definitely got his dick wet yesterday.” The thief who stole Seokjin’s chance reveals themselves to be J, as she enters the kitchen. Shoulders tilting. Jimin’s jaw drops to the floor at the same time Seokjin goes red. Even you pull away from his neck to look at Jin with your mouth agape.

“What?” You and Jimin question at the same time. Get ignored.

“For the sake of fuck J, don’t you know anything about the damn privacy and secrecy.” Jin walks to J, who is now peering at the soup.

“Well, what? It’s not like I told them what we did exactly. Don’t tell me you’re the type to be wanting to fuck a young ripe bad bitch and then keeping it a secret because you’re fucking ashamed.” J says that so quickly that Jimin almost misses it. His Hyung looks taken aback.

“Who said anything about being ashamed. It’s just that─” Jin searches for the right word. Jimin pities him. Poor man. “It’s just that, it’s embarrassing to let Jimin know about my sexual escapades.” Points at Jimin. Jimin gapes at Jin with disbelief.

“Why the fuck not?” Asks. J and you agree with him by chanting ‘exactly’. Jin looks bewildered.

“What do you think Jimin. It’s like sharing it with my mother.” Jin states. Takes a seat across from Jimin.

“That’s not so bad, I share them with my mother all the time.”  J replies. Sits beside Jimin. Now everyone is gaping at her with wide eyes. Jimin thinks it’s cute how you’ve forgotten to cover the wet spot on your chest.

“That’s super weird, J. I mean, it is, right? You don’t do that right?” You mutter in disbelief. Looking back and forth between Jimin and Jin. “Of course not.” Jimin cringes at the prospect. J is weird. Everybody is weird. Especially, his friend. Never in a million years Jimin would’ve thought Kim fucking Seokjin will be interested at someone like J. Not that there’s anything wrong with her. Simply she is the polar opposite of Seokjin. But then things happens. Just like how he is keeping you on his lap. Close to him. He and you are the weirdest.

…………………………………………………….

“You want to know how to become a potato?” Jungkook asks you as all of you are slowly walking through the snow-covered pavements of a seemingly abandoned city. There isn’t even a stray cat on the roads. Apparently, this is the plan for the day. Eating at a famous yet rural restaurant, which is supposed to be somewhere around. After parking your vehicles, Hoseok suggested walking to the restaurant but without any success yet. You’ve been strolling through these streets for over an hour now. There are suspicions arousing from the group. Suspicions of being lost. But it’s still fun. Doesn’t feel like you’ve walked for such a long time when you’ve been laughing so hard. And enjoying this to the fullest.

You nod in answer for Jungkook’s question, enthusiastically, before Jimin rudely butts in. “Why the fuck would you want to become a potato?” Walking behind you, with Taehyung who is currently trying to walk with his eyes closed. Jimin isn’t the happiest of your walking arrangements but wasn’t given another option. Taehyung is clinging to him.

“Why not? That’s fun. I’d become a rock if I could. Easy life.” Yoongi joins from the other side of you. You’re walking between him and Jungkook.

“Rock is acceptable, but a potato? Potatoes get eaten by, kids. Unacceptable.” Seokjin gives his opinion. Is walking with, now not so surprisingly with J. In front of you. Yoona and Namjoon being the people in front of them. Hoseok and Seoyeon on the lead. You blinks at Seokjin’s face when he partially turns his head to look at you. Good point. You turn to Jungkook. Gape at his face, waiting for a counterpoint. He doesn’t give that.

“I didn’t think about that actually.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. Then zones out. Probably thinking about being a potato and not getting eaten by.

“That’s a shame.” You mumble. Jimin snorts. Says how he still can’t comprehend why you want to become a potato. Yoongi starts listing million reasons as to why it’s a good idea when you abruptly bumps into Jin’s hard back. Jungkook bumping into J. Jimin into you. Taehyung into Jungkook. Apparently, the same thing has happened to Jin and J as well. They are balancing on their feet after the hard collision with Namjoon and Yoona. Cursing.

“What the fuck?” Jimin bellows, as his hands grab you. Saving you from falling down. Taehyung whines next to him. Accepting his fate and just leaning against Jungkook. Jin yells at a very innocent Namjoon making him point at Hoseok with an open mouth.

“It’s him. He stopped out of nowhere.” Namjoon looks like an overgrown bunny when he does that. Reasonable why Yoona is always giving him heart eyes.

“Would you mind giving us a warning next time Hobi? I really can’t handle having my head shaken so many times.” Taehyung finally leans away from Jungkook’s hard body. Hoseok, however, is not paying any attention. Is having a heated conversation with Seoyeon.

“We are not lost. I know where we’re going.” He mutters while turning a full circle around. Eyes glued to his phone screen.

“We passed this stupid shop for three times already Jung Hoseok.” Seoyeon seethes, pointing at the floral shop to your right. All of you look at it. You squint your eyes. Now when you think about it, you’re pretty sure that you did just that. Passed it a couple of times before. And it’s confirmed when Yoona says the same.

“Oh, yeah. I remember this one too. Are you serious Hobi? You promised me the best Samgyetang and dragged us here. I didn’t even taste the hangover soup because I wanted to save space for this one.” She whines. Gives up and falls into her boyfriend’s arms. Namjoon holds her. Pets her hair. Dramatic but sweet. “Your loss.” Jimin says, hands still holding you. Sounds a bit offended. He works hard for that soup after all. Yet, Yoona is the only idiot who didn’t try it. Her loss, indeed.

“We’re not lost at all guys. We. Are. Not. I completely trust technology.” Hoseok points at his phone before starting to turn left and right. Looks extremely comical.

“You shouldn’t sometimes though.” J voices. Very subtly but obviously letting Jin wraps his hands around her. You have to bite back the amused grin that threatens to break on your face. After all, it’s just you and Jimin who know that they are hooking up. That’s what they told you at least. You wonder how and why nobody questions them being so close. Hoseok interrupts your observations. A triumphant noise leaving his mouth. Gestures to his left.

“It’s this way everyone. I think I missed it before.” Looks elated. As if he just solves the mystery of dark matter. Already started towards the side street. Is very empty, similar to the one you’ve been rounding for all these times. Strikes as a danger to you.

“Uh… are you sure Hobi? Looks shady to me.” You express your concerns, but Hoseok doesn’t even look at you. If you haven’t mistaken, Hoseok acts like he has a problem with you. Like you’ve done something unforgivable to him. For the day, you spent with these people, Hoseok hasn’t shared more than ten words with you. Even the shared ten words are concerning the important matters. Nothing personal. Nothing friendly. Everyone starts to follow him with several protests.

“Oh good. This is how we’ll die. Should’ve made this a vlog. My last ever vlog.” Yoongi exasperates. Jungkook says something about being able to drop out of college if he dies. Is thinking very positively. You turn your head slightly to Jimin before he lets you go.

“Is Hoseok mad at me?” That’s a very genuine concern. Maybe, he has a problem with Liya. Who knows. You just want to know so you’ll not make a fool out of yourself by trying to make small friendly talk with him. Just to get rudely ignored. Just like now. Jimin’s eyes soften as you look at him curiously. Shakes his head. “Don’t mind him.” Says before letting you go. You want to disagree. Say that you need to know if there’s an issue, but Jungkook has yanked you to his side the moment you’re out of Jimin’s grasp.

…………………………………………….

You ended up in a forest. A freaking forest. Seoyeon nearly ripped Hoseok’s head off. Taehyung had to physically restrain his girlfriend from murdering one of his best friends. That made his headache worse. In the end, Jimin and Jungkook had to drag Taehyung back. It was an endless trail of complaints. Jimin swore in his life that he’ll never let Taehyung drink again. You all know that’s a lie. By the time you finally arrived at Hoseok’s very famous Samgyetang restaurant. After wandering over for another hour or so. Jimin and Jungkook are practically panting and sweating like two pigs.

“Gosh, why am I friends with you again.” Jimin breathes out, slumping against the wall. Stretching out his feet under the table where you all are sitting on the heated floor. Jungkook is pressing his flushed face on the cold table. Taehyung who has happened to sit between Jimin and you, chose to budge you by leaning against your figure. You decide to put up with that. No longer in a position to judge him. If anything, you and he are on the same boat. So is Jimin. All three of you are shameless cheaters. Sinners. So much for thinking, you’ll never be able to carry the weight of guilt. Now look at where you are. Enjoying someone else’s life to the fullest. Having the best of best orgasms in your life with that person’s five years of boyfriend. There’s a guilty consciousness, yes. But not enough to prevent you from seeking more. Absolutely shameless. Even now, you want to sit next to Jimin.

You take a long look at him. He catches that. Smiles softly at you before Hoseok interrupts you by reaching the table. Despite him vowing this place to be quite popular, only people here are your party. No other patrons. Empty. And funnily enough, Hoseok acts like he knows this place. When you inquire from Yoongi, if Hoseok has been here before, he assures you that he hasn’t. Just his cousin been a weirdo. Hoseok sits right across from you. His smile is so wide that it could light up the entire neighborhood.

“Food will be here in a minute.” He lets all of you know.

“And are you sure we’ll live after eating that?” Yoongi questions next to him. Hoseok gives him a look. “What? You said this place is popular. I can’t see anyone here. And the entire neighborhood looks shady man. What if these people are serial killers? What if they are feeding us their previous victims?” Yoongi keeps questioning with wide eyes. Several people let out whines of complaints at the last part.

“Shut the fuck up Yoongi.” Namjoon throws his beanie at him. Yoona practically cries. Says she is starving to death, and she’ll eat whatever they give her. Another series of whines rise up. Very fair. Yoongi is running your lunch. It’s not just Yoona now. You’re starving to death as well. And the last thing you want is to think that you’ve entered a horror movie and are about to become cannibals. The whines quickly turns out into an argument. Requests to keep their mouths shut and the possibilities of all of you dying throwing here and there. And the ways you would die becomes the main topic. For one thing, Hoseok looks bit uncertain after Yoongi’s suspicions. Practically smacks Yoongi across his head when he yet again explains the way they would keep their victims alive to kill at the right moment. Funny how you and him in unison ask Yoongi to keep it close. He doesn’t.

And you think it’s ridiculous how all of you ended up staring at your Samgyetang bowls with furrowed brows, after the food arrived.

“C’mon this is ridiculous guys.” J exclaims aloud. Pokes the chicken with her chopsticks. “It’s obviously a chicken.” Adds that part. Takes a look around all of your faces.

“What if they make the─” Yoongi opens his mouth.

“Oh my god! Will you stop you little piece of shit.” Hoseok bangs his fist on the table. The dishes clatter.

“Fuck you, Yoonigi!.” You agree. Hoseok meets your eye for a minute but looks away immediately.

“Guess what? I don’t give a fuck. I’m eating.” Yoona disrupts Hoseok’s tantrum. Waits for another moment and staying true to her word digs right in. The rest of you watch her eating. In pure disbelief. Jimin is the next to follow her.

“Fuck this.” Says before stuffing his face. And then one by one you all follow. It tastes like chicken gladly.

…………………………………………………….

The people- who were nice and obviously not serial killers- at the Samgyetang place let you know that the place is popular through the entire year but near the New Year’s Eve it’s not. That’s how it works apparently, without any specific reason. And the abandoned and shady city turned out to be pretty inhabited. It’s just that they prefer to stay inside. Unlike you guys who are now raiding a convenience store, where there is not much available to buy.

“Fuck I need Almonds.” Taehyung exclaims. Searching through the three shelves in this store for the fifth time now. You and Jimin following him.

“You’re not going to find Almond just because you keep searching Tae. There’s no Almond here.” Jimin picks up a pack of snacks. Hands it to you. You take it.

“Why would you need Almond?” You ask from Taehyung. “It helps me with my headaches.” He answers. Appear to be better than how he was an hour ago. “Oh! Maybe you should take some pain killers.” You suggest, watching Taehyung shakes his head. “Already did that. Not going to work.” Pouts hard. Jimin sighs next to you.

“Why did you drink that much you idiot?” Grabs by the back of Taehyung’s neck. In an affectionate way.

“Aahh... tell me about it Jimin-ah, tell me about it.” Taehyung looks heavenward. Something common for two best friends. You almost chuckle at that when Jin’s voice echoes through the small store.

“Taehyung!” You all snap your heads to where his voice booms. Taeyhung perking up instantly, leaving you and Jimin in light speed. Mumbles ‘Almond’ as he goes. And you finally chuckle, shaking your head. Turn back to Jimin. A soft smile ghost on your lips which he reciprocates.

“Are you tired?” Questions. To be completely honest, you are. But nothing unbearable yet. It’s not just you after all, Jimin hasn’t slept a wink last night either. You just know it’ll be harder with every hour passing by. For now, though, you can manage. So, you shake your head to let him know you’re not tired.

“Are you?” Ask the same thing from him. He says he’s fine. But then you change your mind. Just as an afterthought. Decide it’s better if you can rest your legs. No need to waste your energy wandering around a convenience store. Have no idea what your friends are doing. They don’t buy anything, nor do they want to leave. When you voice your need aloud, Jimin grabs your hand. “Want to go outside? Saw benches there.” Suggests to which you agree with a beat of your heart. He pays for your snack and in a minute, you’re munching on it. Sitting on a said bench beside the store.

It's peacefully silent for a moment before Jimin breaks it. “You ever been in a relationship?” Inquires suddenly. You slowly turn your head to him. Stop swaying your legs. He is asking you for another one. Just like this morning. You still don’t like it. One by one curious question, you are becoming closer and closer. It would’ve been just fine if you and he could keep your hands away from each other. Something normal a pair of friends would do. Now, though, when you had come on his tongue, made him come on his god damn pants, this is not fine. He is looking at you expectantly, however. You try to find a rough answer. Or a way to take his mind away from it.

“Couple of times, yeah.” You vaguely reply. Hoping he would let it go.

“What do you mean couple of times.” He chuckles. Awful. This is. That he wants to know you. Why would he want that. Then didn’t you want the same.

“Well, I had a boyfriend when I was in high school and then during my freshman year.”

“That’s just two times. Was any of that serious or just casual?” There’s an irritation in his voice. As if he is jealous. Ridiculous of you to think that. You want to change the subject. Want to talk about something that doesn’t involve becoming two people who are nothing more than a causal fuck.

“Does that matter Park?” You try to laugh. Just to add some lightness to your question. He shrugs. A scowl on his face. “What? I’m just curious.” States. You think you can change the course.

“Yeah? About what?” Gasp. “Do you want to know if my ex was able to make me cum on my pants? Like you did?” Well, that’s a stupid way to do that. Yet, he scoffs and turns to you with pure disbelief. “No… not at all but, c’mon you know he wasn’t.” Answers very smugly. It’s true though. But you’ll not let him know. Just prefer to have a conversation about coming in twelve different ways than him prying into your life. You scoff as well.

“Don’t be so sure Park. Maybe… he didn’t do that buut... maybe he did make me cum so hard I forgot my name.” You smirk. Followed by a raise of your brow. Jimin looks utterly offended. Gasps loudly.

“Are you underestimating my abilities? Are you saying I didn’t make you forget your own name?” Points an accusatory finger at you.

“Yes.” You say without a beat. Again, a lie.

“Wanna bet?”

“About what?”

He doesn’t answer that. Instead, snatches the packet of snacks away from you. You’re about to call him all the insulting names when he shut you up with a kiss. Open mouthed. Tongue very much involved. Leaves you heaving for breath when he pulls away. Only to make a demand against your lips.

“On my lap Lil. C’mon.” Straightens up to make space for you. You blink at his face. What is he about to do? Don’t move a finger until he grabs your wrist and yanks you to him. “C’mon baby.” Says again. So, you comply. Still very confused but intrigued the same. Excited. First, you think he wants you to straddle him and is about make you grind on him again. Are mortified considering you’re in public. In broad daylight. He doesn’t, however. Makes you just sit on his lap, back pressed against his chest. Gets you comfortable, his cheek is pressing onto yours. Places a couple kisses on your neck before sucking on your pulse point.

“Wh-what are you d…doing Jimin?” You’re very pathetically already breathless. All it takes is a kiss. He just hums, which doesn’t make any sense to you. Then his hands are travelling south on your body. Annoyingly, both of you are wearing layers of clothing. Hence, the lack of sensation when his hands moves over your breasts. Still, it’s enough to make a low moan escape from your chest. Which quickly turns into a panicked gasping, when Jimin’s hands doesn’t stop but start undoing your pant buttons. Your hands reach to grab from his wrists. Preventing him.

“Jimin, Jimin... Wha- what are you... Jimin?” You nearly yank his hands away when he places another kiss. This time on your temple. “Relax baby. I’ll stop if someone walks in, okay? I promise.” His voice is back to being low and husky. Is murmuring in your ear. Gets your cunt clenching. Arousal seeping through. The thought that he is about to do this here, on the outside, with the possible risks gets you turned on to no end. This is a first time for you, have never done something like this before. Are very excited, nonetheless. Slowly becoming impatient.

“Okay Lil?” Jimin asks again. Despite the fact that you’ve loosened your grip on his wrists, without even realizing, he hasn’t moved an inch forward. Gives you a reassuring squeeze. You’re already aroused. “Baby?” Mumbles again. Oh, you trust him, don’t you? Well, you do very much. Your head is bobbing up and down fast. Giving your consent.

“Say it.” Jimin teasingly pushes his hand past your waist band.

“O- okay. I mean… do it.” You succumb. Which is all what it takes. Jimin’s hand slips past your pants and inside your panties in a record time. Finds your clit first. Just rubs soothing circles before goes down to your clenching hole. Gathers your wetness and spreads it all across your folds. Slowly. Teasingly. Sensually. Hums approvingly.

“Already fucking wet baby. So eager, aren’t you? Dripping─” Presses his fingers over your clit. Bit harshly that you mewl. “─wet. Say it’s for me.” Demands yet again. And you’re doing exactly what he wants. “For you. It’s for you Jimin.” Moan your words out. Bend your knees, placing the soles of your shoes on his knees. He is happy with your compliance.

“Spread.” Encourages you further. So, you do as you are asked. How demeaning and mortifying this could be if someone walks in. Your legs spread. Just for Jimin. His hand very obviously buried inside your cunt. Not that you can think things rationally. Impossible when he is rubbing his fingers over your slit relentlessly. The world fades away when one of those fingers’ prods at your entrance. Teases for a bit and then he is entering. Through your spasming walls. Adds a second one. Stretches you wide, palm pressing against the throbbing bud of nerves.

Starts thrusting slowly. Then picks up speed, curling his fingers up. Stroking your walls till he finds that spongy spot. With that you’re just a mess. A shameless, pathetic mess. You have to bite your bottom lips so harshly that you’re sure the blood is drawing, to keep the noises muffled. Jimin makes it super hard for you. Each drag on your walls, each rub on your clit, gets you crashing down in his hold.

“Fuck Lil. Like that. You like it?”

Why does he expect you to answer? When he is just doing what he wanted to do. Makes you forget your own name.

“Just wait till we’re back at the cottage baby. Fuck, I’m gonna fuck you until you fucking can’t walk. Gonna make you forget everything except my name hm? Do you like it Lil? You want me to ruin this cute hole?”

You manage a nod. A barely there one. He chuckles. More of a snicker. Picks his speed up from a notch. Keeps hitting that spot. Your walls uncontrollably clenching around his fingers. Throbbing. Bringing you closer.

“C’mon baby cum for me. Cum hard hm? Be a good slut now.”

You love the filth he spills in your ear. Makes you even closer to your high.

“Look at you. Going dumb just over my fingers, imagine it’s my cock baby. Imagine it’s my cock making you drip down out in this open. Where anyone can walk in. Aren’t you a stupid slut to like this. A whore to let me─” The rest of his words are swallowed by a groan he himself makes at the way you suddenly shriek. Your thighs shaking and back arching. Walls clamping down on his fingers. His words make you fall over the edge. A loud moan in shape of his name finally escapes your mouth despite your best efforts.

“Jimin… oh god fuck.” You whimper in pure pleasure. He says something about you being the best little girl which is drowned by the ringing of your ears. You take your time to calm down. Jimin keeps his hands still inside your pants until you do. Only then he slowly retrieves it out, making a mess on his way. Not that you truly care. You turn your head around to watch him sucks his fingers clean. What a sight. Park Jimin is. Makes a new wave of arousal wash over you. He is going to be the death of you.

You’re certain he will when he pulls you into another kiss.

“You okay?” Asks with such a gentle caring tone that your heart squeezes. You nod. Say that you’ve never been better. Got him laughing. A sight for sore eyes. Got him kissing you again. A worthy reason to die today. You reluctantly pull away from him when he stops you. Turns your face to him with your chin. Keeping you on his lap.

“Lil?”

“Yeah?”

“Was that, okay? I mean… I uh... called you...” He stutters. You know what he means. Is funny he think you’ll not ask him to stop if you weren’t okay with that. You’re pretty sure he called you a slut yesterday as well. So, you interrupt him.

“What a slut? And a whore?” Give him what he is trying to ask. He just stares at you. Nervously so. You find it endearing. Can’t help the urge to kiss him again. So, you give into that urge. Kiss him hard. “It’s fine Jimin. I would’ve asked you not to call me so if I wasn’t.” Answer. Then you want to kiss him again when he smiles. It’s getting out of control.

“Yeah? You will?”

“I will.” You assure. Jimin nods. This time it’s him who takes you into another kiss. Makes you shudder by mumbling something about wanting badly to fuck your brains out. Fix your pants while saying so, nonetheless. He is caring in a scary way.

This is fine. It’s just a day.

…………………………………………..

Ever since Jimin made you cum on his fingers. Out on a bench with all your friends nearby, you weren’t okay at all. The good thing is, he wasn’t okay either. He has his fiery gaze fixed upon you all the damn time. Undressing you with his eyes. Hell, the man even texted you and asked if you were still soaking wet, so ready to be taken, while you walked back to your cars. With Seoyeon. And you had to recite stupid lies when she asked why you were turning deep red. There was a thick tension. Swirling around you two. Even an unintentional brush against your hand made you rub your thighs. Isn’t that crazy? It is. Yet, it’s what happening.

It's mind-blowing how your head spins as he presses you against your bedroom door. Kissing you madly. Devouring your mouth with his. Neither of you is caring about how hard it is to breathe. Ignoring the way your lungs protest. It’s ridiculous how you can’t think about anything else but him. Park Jimin. You can’t get enough. It’s that simple. You want more and more. One leg is hooking around his waist. Desperately, grinding your hips for some friction. Jimin does the same. Presses his hardness against you. Not a single piece of clothing has been shredded yet. The moment you were inside this private space, Jimin had you pressed against him and the door. Attacking your lips like a starved animal. It’s good but see, you want more.

“Jimin… Ji…min. Wanna taste you. Wa- wanna suck you off.” You break the kiss to mumble that. Noting how he visibly loses his mind at that. Shuddering. Sucks in a shaky breath. Leaving out an animalistic groan.

“Ye- yeah? You want that? Want my dick on your mouth─” Asks while nearly ripping your sweater off your body. “Tell how much you want that baby.” Gets you half bare. You fumble with his belt. So, ready to drop to your knees right at the spot. He just allow you. But still knowing him, based on these few times you and he were intimate, you know he expects you to do as he asked.

“Want it so bad Jimin. Give it to me hm? I need you. Want to taste you so bad.” You’re not messing around here. Each word you utter, you mean it. Because that’s how desperate you are for him. That’s how you’re burning up with the fire. How will you ever be able to go back to normal? He has you completely ruined with bare minimum. How pathetic? You’re working on autopilot mode as you push your hand inside his pants. Palming him through his boxers. Absolutely, loving the way he bucks into your touch. For a minute before he lost it completely. As if something snap. Pushes your hand away so he can get rid of the remaining barriers between you two. His hoodie, pants. Your pants follow. Still, however, he keeps his boxers and makes you keep your panties and bra as well. He can be infuriating.

You’re completely frustrated by the time he sits back on the edge of the bed. Frustrated but enjoying it all the same. Just exciting to expect his next moves. Being curious adds more fuel to your fire. Loving it when he takes his time. Toying and playing. Especially, now as he leans back slightly, placing his weight on one arm. Using the other to palm himself through his boxers, eyes burning into you. You who are standing before him, just in your underwear. Like a vulnerable, exposed, and defenseless prey. Just to please him. For his pleasure and that’s it. And you love it. Are getting restless. He smirks, watching the way you are rubbing your thighs uncontrollably. He looks like a god. Pure sin. Gestures to the floor with his eyes. You take the hint right away. Find yourself kneeling in front of him at light speed. Gulping harshly to sooth your dry throat. He comes even closer to the edge. Stops palming himself to caress your cheek. You lean into that touch, heart pounding in your ears.

“You want this baby?” Asks in a husky voice. All you can manage is a weak yes. “Go on then Lil. Do whatever you want.” Gives you the green light. And you jump into action. Pulling from the waistband of his boxer, dragging it through his thick thighs. He helps by raising his hips up. Freeing his cock from its tight confines, making Jimin moan when the cold air hits him. Making you moan when his bare cock finally comes into your view. Hard and throbbing, straining against his skin. Flushed. Precum already leaking. You’re really embarrassed at the way you whimpered. At the way your breath visibly hitched. Most of all, you want the floor to swallow you up at the words that leaves your mouth.

“You’re pretty.” You’re mortified when you mutter that. In a very breathy and hoarse voice. Jimin actually laughs. Even throws his head back. “Yeah? Thought you said my dick is ugly.” Is petting your hair. You look at him with a pout. “Never said that. Said I assume that maybe you’re ugly, and I take that back. Happy?” You think counter back is a good way to preserve your dignity. But that doesn’t make the smug look wiped off Jimin’s face. He just snakes his hand around the back of your neck. Slowly brings your face closer to his hard member. Slowly. Until your face is just millimeters away from his throbbing cock. You keep your eyes on his face. Watch the way his amused expression turns into something feral when your breath hits the sensitive skin. So, you blow on to it. Think there’ll be no other music to compare with his shaky moan. You do it again and again. Poke your tongue out just to kitten lick his shaft, keeping your head just where he holds it.

“Holy fuck! Fucking hell Lil… God.” He groans and lets go off your head. Grits his teeth to keep his composure. But you want him to lose it. Snap. Become a mess. You’re determined to make him when you start to drag the tip of your tongue, across his shaft. Pleased at the way his dick twitched. He can be infuriating but so can you. Keep licking and kissing through, never completely giving in. Not wrapping your lips around but just dragging your tongue over the flushed tip. Tasting the pre cum. Licking and playing with his balls. You feel really proud when it doesn’t take that long. Jimin bucks into your lips.

“Oh, you fucking tease…” Grabs from your head again. “Don- don’t tease. Lil…” Holds your head in place but you don’t do what he wants. Wait patiently till he snaps. “Fuck. Do something baby. Take me in, want to feel you wrap around me.” Starts to crumble. It’s a shame you’re too impatient to wait for him to beg. But you’re fully satisfied with what you got. Hence, waste no time wrapping your lips around his leaking tip. Humming and moaning. Jimin’s moans entangling with yours. You swirls your tongue around his tip before slowly starting to take him further in. Not that you’ve the best experiences in blowjobs. Still, you know what you’re doing. Knows how to pleasure. So, you do your best. Taking him the best way, you can. Bobbing your head up and down. Dragging your tongue. Licking at his balls. Mouthing at his tip. Are on a mission. Slobbering. Sucking.

See now, you don’t think you ever wanted to make someone feel good, than now you want to make Park Jimin. His growls and grunts pared with his taste makes you blissed even without a single touch on your body. You keep your eyes at his disheveled look. Mouth opens and panting. Skin glistening. Trying so bad not to ruin your rhythm and push into you. You want him to do that. So, you pull away, spit drooling into your chin. Rub your thighs as you speak.

“Fuck my mouth.”

Jimin makes a strangling noise at that.

“Fuck, are you sure?”

“Yes, Jimin…” You whisper, breathless. “Please.”

“Lil… fuck you can’t… shit. Fuck, okay. Tap my thigh if it’s too much, okay?”

You just nod. And luckily, he is too impatient now to ask you to say it. You open your mouth, relaxing your jaw. Letting him take control and use your mouth. Feeling his cock heavy on your tongue, forcing your head down and down till you feel the tip of him hitting your throat. Jimin gives you a minute. Again, this is a first time for you. But you’re pretty confident that you can handle it.

“Breathe baby. Don’t hold your breath.” He mumbles. You nod around him. Take couple few seconds before humming, asking him to continue. So, he does. Starting slow. Bucking his hips into your mouth. Gripping the back of your head. Losing control, by every minute his dick is engulfed in the warmth of your mouth. Second by second picking up the speed. Fucking your face. And you’re drooling, sputtering. Trying bad to control your gag reflex. Eyes stinging with tears. Choking on his dick. Each time a gag erupts, Jimin becomes more feral. Fingers gripping your hair harsh, gritting his teeth to hold back. Not to hurt you. Not to push so much on you. The thing is, you’re actually loving every minute of this. Are turned on so badly that you can’t help but keep squeezing your thighs together. Desperate for some kind of friction. There’s an urge to just touch yourself while Jimin uses your mouth to get off. Think it’s embarrassing. But not to Jimin. No. Even with his blissed-out state, he has his eyes on you. Just knows what you’re thinking. You’re not surprised anymore. Not at all when he stutters through his moans and grunts.

“Go ahead, d- do it.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

You want to ask what but are unable to do so. Only capable of drooling more and looking at him with tear filled eyes.

“Touch yourself Lil. You want to, don’t you? Go ahead, rub your pretty clit while I fuck your mouth. Ah─ fucking slut.”

You nearly sob at that. Complying with his demand instantly. One hand still digging into his thigh, you take the other to slip inside your wet panties. Moaning so loud at the friction on your clit, which is muffled by his cock. Then it’s all a sobering mess. Spit. Tears. Moans. Grunts. Curses. Jimin is relentless. You hold onto him with all your strength while your free hand keep circling your sensitive nub. Willing yourself to keep going till he falls over the edge. And it doesn’t take that long.

“Fuck baby I’m close. Hold on. Shit, your mouth feel so good. You look so pretty choking on my cock baby. God─ Dumb fucking slut.” His words make your fingers work at double speed. Your throat clenching when he hits the back.

“Lil, fuck... do- do y- you want me to... inside your mouth huh? Want me to cume in your throat baby?” Jimin forces you a little bit more on his cock. Yet again, it’s a weak nod and a moan is all you can manage. Jimin loves it apparently. No matter how weak your nod is. Because he curses loudly at that. Lose the precision in his movements for second before forces your head completely down. Your nose meets his pelvis. Hips stuttering and stilling as ropes and ropes of white hits your throat. Making your sob partially due to the discomfort but mainly due to the pleasure. Pure, hot pleasure. Jimin holds you there for just a second longer before releasing you. You pull away, greedily sucking in breath to sooth your burning lungs. Saliva covering your entire chin and tears covering your cheeks. You must look like a filthy mess, but the way Jimin looks at you tell you that you’re a hot mess.

“God baby. You’re just… Fuck!” Jimin is heaving for breath as well. His chest rising up and down. Yet bends down immediately to cup your face with both of his hands. “You’re okay right? Lil?” Wipes away your tears. Rubs your face soothingly. You whimper.

“I’m fine. Just aching for─” You don’t get to complete the sentence when Jimin suddenly grabs from your forearms. Yanking you to your feet.

“Up baby c’mon.” A squeal escapes your lips. Jimin isn’t satiated it seems, the demon inside him is still there. The way he rips your bra away is humanly impossible. Your panties follows next. Got you straddling him. Instead of placing you over his crotch, however, he hurriedly lay down. Legs still dangling over the edge. Slaps your ass slightly.

“On my face Lil. Ride my face. Want to eat you out until your legs can’t hold you anymore.”

You look at him surprisingly for a moment. Then nod. If he wants that you’re not going to argue. Move forward with your knees fast as you can. Nearly hovers down your aching cunt on his face when a knock erupts on the door, freezing you. You almost panicked and run away at light speed before you remember that the door is securely fastened. Jimin annoyingly groans under you, frustrated. Your face flushes with embarrassment as you scramble off him. Sitting down beside when the interrupter speaks through. Funny it’s Jin’s voice since you expected it to be Kim freaking Taehyung.

“I’m extremely sorry to ruin your fuck session brother, but the stupid Ji Hun wants to talk to you right now. Can’t be delayed because I already tried.”

“Are you fucking serious Hyung?” Jimin sits back. It’s a comical situation. You can’t laugh though. Not when your clit is still throbbing.

“Yes. And I’m sorry. Just five minutes max. Say whatever he needs to hear.” Jin shouts. You can imagine him pressing his ear to your door. Jimin looks at you. Despite your frustration you can understand that he needs to work. You give him a soft and reassuring smile.

“That’s okay.” Mumble. Peck his lips. Jimin takes a moment to make sure you’re really fine. When he does, kisses you deeply.

“Just five minutes okay. Ten max. Take a shower if you want. I’ll be back by the time you finish.” Suggests. And you agree. Seems like a good idea.

“Be quick.” Gift him another kiss. “I’m dripping.” Purr against his mouth, smirking when he whimpered.

………………………………………………

You’ve never showered this fast before. Only twelve minutes. Precisely. A record. And sticking to his word Jimin was there when you left the bathroom. The only problem? He was fast asleep. Breathing deeply and peaceful. So, you’re just standing near the edge of the bed for God knows how long. Like a creep. If anything, you should feel irritated, annoyed. He left you hanging. Now is sleeping like nothing matters. The thing is you don’t feel anything remotely close to irritation. Or annoyance. Instead, you feel your heart swooning. Swelling. Adoration fills you up. You feel affection. A deep urge to kiss his puffy cheeks and pouty lips. He looks angelic. The amber hue of the ceiling lights creates a golden hue on his face. He looks beautiful. In most humanly way. Neck tilts to one side and has one of his hands curled into a tight fist. As though he’s holding onto a dream.

God! Why?

Why does he have to do this to you? Why does your heart skips beating when there’s nothing illicit happening? Why do you want to kiss him madly when you don’t feel aroused at all?

Fuck this is not good.

You want to kiss him for no reason. Because you feel like it. To feel closer.

Nope. No.

That wasn’t the deal. You turn around your heel fast. Then turn back again on a second thought. Cover him with the comforter and flee the room like a hurricane.

…………………………………..

It’s not that late. Just near midnight but all your friends have decided to call it an early night that day. Must be damn exhausted by all the drinking, partying, and walking. You envy them. They’ll be here tomorrow as well. You won’t. Simply can’t handle 72 hours straight. There’s a painful disappointment inside you. This day is slipping away. No scratch that, it’s already over. A day. That was your deal. You and Jimin wanted a day to pretend normal and satiate your burning desires. And you did to a certain extent but not completely. You’re still very much drooling at his sight. Heart beating madly and arousals seeping through you. Maybe if you have actually fucked, this day could’ve been a huge success. Finally satisfied.

Well, you can obviously wake him up instead of watching him sleep. But you know you can’t. Even though you shouldn’t, you care too much. How could you just wake that peaceful angel up. Too cruel. It doesn’t matter that your time in paradise is over. That you have to face reality, and you haven’t gained anything during your journey. You’ll still make sure Park Jimin is sleeping tight. Resting. Will stay awake till the sun rise, till he wake up. And to assist you to do that you need huge load of caffeine. 

That was your intention when you take the sharp corner to the kitchen. Only to collide with a hard chest as a loud mewl escapes your mouth.

“Fuck, sorry.” The person whispers. Trying to keep the quiet of the cottage. People are sleeping after all. You raise your head to look at the owner of the chest. Who turned out to be Jungkook with a glass of water in his hand. You’ve caused it to spill a little bit. He appears just as surprised as you.

“Oh, I’m sorry Kookie. Didn’t see you there.” You apologize fast since it’s your fault.

“Noona?” He whispers again.

“Yes.” You whisper back.

“What are you doing.”

“Ah, I couldn’t sleep so I just came down. Late night snack thing.” You think it’s stupid to say you need a coffee just after you said you couldn’t sleep. Jungkook hums in understanding. And just when you think he’ll leave you up to mind your own business, he speak again.

“Can’t sleep either.” He is inadvertently covering your way to the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

He hums again. You nearly round him to go past to the kitchen.

“Do you smoke?” This time he raise his voice a little bit, so he is mumbling now. You shouldn’t be surprised that he is asking random questions from you at random moments. You decide to stay honest and say yes. Ask him why he asks.

“Well, since both of us can’t sleep, how about a smoke?” Is back to whispering. Gestures to the window clearly indicating outside. “Wanna go out?” Adds that question as well. You take a minute to consider his invitation. Decide that it’s better to have some company than being alone. Mumble a simple but eager yes.

…………………………………

You and Jungkook stand under a dormant maple tree. Wrapped up in winter coats. You’re definitely not wearing yours and Jungkook’s oversized one swallows you whole. Freshly fallen snowflakes scrunch under your heavy boots. Stars glitter above you in the clear sky after the snowfall. Air is crisp and biting. Kisses your face like thousands of needles. Even with the large winter jacket, you’re shivering slightly.

“Are you too cold Noona? Want to head back inside.” Jungkook asks you as he exhales a puff of smoke. Holds the cigarette to you. You were quite surprised when he didn’t give you your own. But it’s so expected of Jungkook to wanting to share a one. In the end, you didn’t protest. You take the cigarette from him while shaking your head.

“No. I like this actually. Relaxing, isn’t it? And the sky is beautiful.” You hollow your cheeks to take a deep drag, liking the feeling of how Nicotine addictively warms you up. You’re not a habitual smoker by any means. It’s just sometimes you smoke. And you really mean it when you say it’s relaxing. Your heart is beating fast but this time it’s not due to Park Jimin. It’s just the effect of Nicotine. So, you think it’s good. To find out Park Jimin isn’t the sole reason of your body going crazy. It goes crazy over Nicotine too. That’s good. You like the way crips air battle against your exhaustion and chase away the sleepiness. Like how Jungkook’s endless talking make you forget the man who’s sleeping upstairs like a baby. Stops you from just give in and go back. Kiss every inch of his face and curl into his warm body. This, in fact, is outstanding.

“Yeah? Are you good at spotting constellations?” He glances up at the sky. You follow his line of vision.

“No. Are you?”

“Absolutely not. Can’t understand how people do that─” He points at the sky. You snort at his claim. “It all looks the same. Like fairy dust.” Muses before averting his gaze to you and taking the cigarette away.

“Oh, I actually believed they are magical lights as a kid. Fairies and their fairy lights.” You look at him too. Waiting patiently for him to share the smoke back with you. Raise your hands to take it when Jungkook casually just holds it to your mouth. You glance at his face quickly. He urges you to go on. So, you do, wrapping your lips around the abusive cylinder.

“You don’t anymore?” He questions while you take another deep drag. You answer after blowing that smoke out. Click your tongue.

“I’ll believe they are fairy lights again when I get to see a shooting star.” You dreamily look above at the sky again. Jungkook interrupts you with a gasp. That leads him to ask you series of question about how come you’ve not seen one. Which takes a turn into asking about your life. You answer him vaguely as possible. Not wanting to blow your cover. Your answers consist mainly of rough yes and nos. And it goes on until you’ve got to light up a third cigarette. Jungkook lets you take the first drag from that.

“Are you happy with him?” Jungkook’s question cuts through the conversation suddenly. A complete turnover from what you’ve been talking about. He was asking you about your (Liya’s) family. You were telling him that you don’t get along with them well. Which you don’t know to be the ruth or not. You let the cigarette slips out of your mouth as you take him.

“With whom?”

“Jimin?” Says casually before his eyes goes wide with sudden realization. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask such kind of question from people now, should I? You don’t have to answer.” Jungkook shakes his head fast. Stammers. You’re not sure if he should or not. Simply you don’t know the answer. You shake your head to say it’s okay anyway. Say that you’re very happy. He nods in understanding.

“That’s good. I mean I’m sorry for asking that. Was just curious. You know that day... uh... the day we met, Tae said something about you two not being able to stand each other but it seems like you can’t get enough from each other. That’s why I asked. Sorry.” He apologizes again with an explanation. You can remember Taehyung saying such thing. It makes sense why Jungkook is curious.

“Well, maybe we can’t stand each other some days. But you know it’s just... relationships?” You feel odd to say that. Honestly, all these times, despite all these people believing you’re Liya, you’ve not played your part. You were just you. Even with Jimin. You were and are you. Not Kim Liya. Odd to speak on her behalf. An adorable bunny grin appears on Jungkook’s face.

“Maybe yeah…” Nods. “But you’re really weird you know? Jimin must be really fascinated by you all the time.” That grin never leaves his face as he says that.

“Yah! It’s rude to call someone weird.” You gasp.

“I mean in a good way though.”

“It’s still very rude and how come? How am I weird?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Well, first, you don’t know Midnight Symphony─” He starts to put his fingers down. “Second, you know songs that we’ve never heard about. Third, today you were so engrossed with a soda can back at the convenience store. I’ve never seen someone being so interested at a soda can. I mean what’s there to look so much? Fourth─”

“Geez, alright you have a long fuckin list. But listen. First─” You start putting down fingers as well. “It’s really possible I haven’t heard a song─”

“Yes, but not the fucking Midnight Symphony. Even newborns know that.”

“Shut up, it’s very possible and I wasn’t so engrossed with a soda can.” You absolutely were. That soda can was in stupid shape. And so was it had a label saying it’s in garlic flavor. That’s the weirdest shit you’ve found so far in this world. Can’t blame you for staring at it.

“You were Noona. You were looking at it like this,” Jungkook bends down slightly. “-and your eyes were like this,” Squints his eyes into narrow slits. “- your mouth was like this.” Opens his mouth. Looks like a freaking cartoon. You shriek in embarrassment.

“I. Was. Not. Jeon Jungkook.” Say sternly through your grin. Kick the snow underneath your foot so it hit Jungkook’s shoes. It’s his time to shriek. Jumping to his side to avoid it but failing. Comes up with a counterattack, nonetheless. You two are kicking snow at each other like it’s a real time war in a minute. Trying to compress your laughter and keep balance. You’re certain it would’ve escalated into a very serious snowball fight. But at the right moment you almost bend down to grab some handful of snow Jungkook gasps so loudly. In fear. Startle and nearly lost his balance making you hold from his jacket. When Jungkook’s sudden gasp jolts you, you spin around in alarm, only to stumble backward in shock, mirroring his startled reaction. Jungkook returning the favor by holding you steady. A yelp leaving your mouth.

There’s someone standing in front of you. In the middle of the front yard. Possible since there’s not a wall or a gate to protect the property after all. Still, isn’t any less scary or startling to see someone strange suddenly appearing behind you.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he drags you behind him immediately. Shielding your figure. It’s obvious that this person is not someone from your friend group. It’s a woman. A mop of grey hair on her head. Isn’t wearing a hat nor a scarf. Wearing a puffy jacket, however. Is standing very still like statue. The faint light coming from the cottage shows you that her face is covered with hundreds of wrinkles. You feel a strange shiver run through your spine. Mouth going dry and the hair on the nape of your neck is standing up. What a creepy sensation!

“Fuck I nearly had a heart attack. Who are you?” Jungkook mumbles the first part before asking the latter loudly. Still keeping you behind him. The woman doesn’t answer. See, fucking creepy. She looks too old to be a serial killer or a thief, but you’ll never know. You grab Jungkook’s jacket. Whoever this woman might be, you don’t think it’s wise to talk to her. You need to go inside. So, you tug from Jungkook’s jacket.

“Let’s go inside.” You whisper to him. Trying to walk away and drag him with you. He is a boulder though. Doesn’t even budge. Is looking at the intruder with his brows furrowed. “Jungkook.” You hiss. He takes a brief glance at you. Looks like is about to relent when the woman speaks. Halting both of your movements. Her voice calmed.

“You need to go.” She says. “Promptly.” Adds. You and Jungkook, halted in your movements, gape at her. Not understanding anything.

“What?” Jungkook is the one who questions. You wish he didn’t.

“The young lady,” Woman points at you. You stupidly point at yourself. “You need to return to where you belong, promptly. Or else, the people you know, the loved ones of you will forget about your memories. The same thing happens to Kim Liya. You shouldn’t break the order of things child.” She keeps going.

And you freeze.

You think you understand what she says. Blood drains out of your face. You might’ve turned into porcelain pale.

She knows. Whoever she is, she knows!

You almost step away from Jungkook. But halt again when she softly speaks your name. Your real name. She says it fondly.

“This is a huge mistake my child. You shouldn’t be here. Make haste and go back to where you belong.” She calmly states. Nearly turns around like she is about to leave. Your brain goes into high alert. Panick mode. She knows and she just can’t leave like that. Even though you understand her words, they don’t make sense. What does she mean by losing memories? How does she know in the first place? Who is she?

You practically run to her. “Wait!” You shout. She stops and turns around. Face still very calm. Stand still like a statue. “Yes?” Asks.

“Who are you?” You question. There’s million things you want to know but that’s the one that leaves your mouth. 

“No one very important, young child. Make haste and go back.” Turns around again.

“No wait, you obviously know who I am. You know I’m from a different world. You know I’m not Liya. And… and... that must mean something.” You blurt out. She just sighs but says nothing. So, you continue. “You are saying that I shouldn’t be here and should go back but you know I’ll be here the moment I sleep right?”

“Yes, I do know that.” Finally answers.

“Then what’s the point of asking me to go back. This is not under my control anyway. Tell me what’s happening here. I... We’ve been looking for answers for such a long time. A way to stop this. You do know how to stop this don’t you?” Your voice is shaky from excitement and something that you can’t quite explain.

“Listen dear human, this is not my place to meddle with human affairs. I shouldn’t be here either, just like you. I’m just here to warn you that spending more time in one world results in your permanent disappearance from the other.”

“Wha─”

“Each and every person in these countless universes have their own place. Only one place. When you are not there to fill that space, it vanishes. You can’t return back to your space. It’s already gone. You’ll no longer be a part of your own universe, but a part of this. Filling up the vacant space of Kim Liya. And as long as you are here, she can’t return… and her loved ones will forget of her memories as well. You’ll be the only one they remember. Thus, my dear child you need to go back before things get complicated.” She smiles at you fondly. You’re on the hand, are feeling like losing your balance. Legs buckling.

“Where is she? Liya?” You force yourself to keep interrogate. Funny, how you trust this woman.

“Nowhere.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why she isn’t here when I am?”

“You are not paying attention now, are you? There’s only one space. You can’t share that space. This is her space…. And you are occupying it. That’s why she isn’t here. Now, I have already said so many things I shouldn’t and especially, in front of a witness. What should we do? Wipe this young gentleman’s memory off.” The woman turns to Jungkook. God, you really forgot he is here. He looks bewildered. Eyes still wide and mouth open. Confused. Takes an uncertain step back when the attention falls on him.

“Wh- what’s really happening here?” Looks between you and the old woman. Gulps harshly. Him witnessing what’s happening here isn’t good. It doesn't mean you want his memory erased, however. Hell, you don’t even know what that even means.

“No. What? You can’t do that.” You ignore Jungkook completely to answer the woman. She gives you an amused look. “Are you sure?” Asks. “Of course, you can’t wipe someone’s memory off like that and─” You don’t get to finish what you want to say when she shrugs and turns around again. No. She still hasn’t told you half of the stuff you want to know.

“Wait, wait please.” You almost grab from her hand.

“You already know enough children. Do the right thing.” Takes another step.

“At least tell me how to stop this.” You won’t let this opportunity slip like that. She sighs heavily again. Doesn’t turn around to look at you. A beat of silence passes before she speaks again.

“Just do the exact opposite of what you did that day.” Takes another step away. You don’t stop her this time. Are too confused to do so. What day? The day you came here. She stops again. “Since I already told you so many things, here’s another one- you only have one week. And it’s quite okay to believe in miracles sometimes.” With that, in front of your very bare eyes, and with Jungkook to witness, she vanishes. Just like that. In a snap. Not a single sign of her existence is left there. Only you and Jungkook with your mouth hanging open. You suck in a sharp breath. Not believing what you just saw.

How? How did she?

“Fucking hell, what the hell is happening? Noona?” Jungkook breaks the stupor you two are in. Making your head whip toward him. He is still wearing a same kind of bewildered expression. “Noona? Do you know her? Did she ─ did she fucking disappeared? What’s about, fuck- did she tell something about another world? Wait? Are you a fucking alien?” He takes a step toward you. His quite voice raising an octave with every question.

Shit! This is a mess. You don’t know how to explain this. You want to, however. But not now. Not if what she said was true. The more you spend your time here you’re keep fucking things up. You need to find Jimin, tell him what just happened. You need to leave.

“Later. I’ll explain later. I need to go.” You mutter as you start toward the door. You’ll definitely explain. She said you have a week.

Fuck you only have a week!

…………………………………

It was a quick departure. In the middle of the night. Nobody except Jungkook knew you’d left. You gave him a quick hug and a promise of an explanation. And a request to let others know that something came up. He said yes. You and Jimin drove off at the very moment.

When you first woke him up, Jimin was confused. Almost kissed you, purring. Asked why you haven’t woken him up, before you stopped him. He looked taken aback. When you hurriedly but clearly explained to him what happened, he became difficult like always. So many questions and doubts. Yet eventually he had to believe you. Especially, when you pointed out that Jungkook witnessed them all. Jimin wasn’t happy. He was irate in fact. Was like that when you left the cottage and is still like that. You haven’t talked much since then. You don’t like the uncomfortable silence though. Make you feel even more awful. About everything that happened. Your brain is swirling around the guilt and confusion. That paired up with the realization that everything indeed came to an end, makes your heart ache. Except for your illicit affair of couple days, Jimin and you were close. More than close. It’s just like you knew how it would be. You knew this would become a memory to cry over one day. Only that it came a little faster than you expected. You don’t want to wallow in this feeling.

Jimin is completely focusing on the road. The roads are not in the best condition to drive fast. No matter how much in a hurry you are. He is restless. Looks remorseful. You understand him completely. He was having the time of his life with you while his girlfriend’s entire existence almost disappeared.

Still, it’s strange to be like this around him after all. You need to talk to him. It’s out of control. Need some kind of comfort. His comfort to be precise.

“She said we have a week.” You blurt that out before you can think. Jimin snaps his head at you. He knew it already but looks at you like he just hears it. Opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t. Blows a breath out. Licks his lips and nods. And is looking away again. It makes you irritated. You want him to say that he is equally sad as you.

“Is that it? You have nothing to say?” You ask again.

“What do you want me to say?” He doesn’t even look at you as he asks. Knuckles turning white at how hard he is gripping the steering wheel.

You’re disappointed that he is fine with you leaving. Not that you can question it though. So, you change the subject. But apparently into the wrong path.

“I want to come clean before I leave.” You mumble. Eyes expectantly watching him when he looks at you with knitted brows.

“What?”

“You know, I want your friends to know who I am before I leave.”

He actually laughs at that. Humorless. Gets you annoyed.

“You’re fucking joking, right?” Looks at you like you’re the funniest thing in every universe.

“No, I am not Park. I’m freaking serio─”

“Are you fucking crazy Lil?” His tone and the way he nearly yells makes you snap. Ache in your heart turning into sadness. So, you yell back. Ask him what’s his problem is.

“Why the hell do you want to tell them?” He replies. Or yells again.

“And why the hell not? Because I kind of know them.”

“Stop fucking bullshitting Lil. They don’t know you at all. They think you’re fucking Liya.”

“That’s exactly why I need to tell them that I am not.”

You and he are really shouting through the top of your lungs now. This isn’t what you wanted when you wanted to talk. Things has taken a complete turn. You don’t even know why you’re fighting. Jimin hits the brake furiously. Makes you jolt forward. He has stopped the car in the middle of the road. Good thing that there’s no other vehicles on the road.

“And then what Lil? What happens after that? You want them to see me as a fucking cheater? Is that what you want? You’ll fucking leave and I’ll be the one left to pick up the pieces of my shattered life and relationship.”  He is burning you down with his glare. You shut your mouth instantly. Oh, you haven’t thought about it that way at all. You don’t know why you want to come clean. What’s the purpose? It’s just you want to say something and that’s what came to your mind. And then his dismissive answers made you irritated. Does he not care at all? You’ll be leaving in a week.

“Right? That’s what I thought.” Jimin says again when you don’t reply. Sighs. “So, is this like you want some kind of revenge?” Questions again. Your eyes go wide instantly, jaw dropping to the floor at the same time your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. What is he talking about?

“Why the fuck would I want a revenge?”

“No right? Then what the hell is this? Why are you being difficult? Why can’t you just stick to the plan and leave like you came? Everything resolved, you get your life back and I get mine. Just a normal life huh? Isn’t that what you wanted?” He points it out. What he is saying is the absolute truth. That was your plan. Then why do you feel your heart shatter. He just asked you to leave quietly. Like you don’t matter. And that’s the case after all. You don’t matter. Are here by mistake. You were just a body, a temporary stand-in. A warm presence in the absence of his real love. You’re nothing. You feel your throat constricts. This is not good that you’re on the verge of crying.  You don’t want to cry at all, but his next words hit like final wave to break your dam.

“Just don’t ruin my life before you leave Lil. I did nothing wrong to you. You agreed and it was for a day. One day. You’ve no reason to do so. Just don’t make this difficult.” Says before accelerating the car again. You say nothing, too afraid to speak. Know you’ll definitely cry. Instead, look away through the window, allowing your thoughts to consume you completely. Biting on your lower lip to swallow back the sob rising in your throat.

Ruin his life?

You’ve no right to feel so hurt. Like he said you knew it was for a day. You shouldn’t expect anything from Park Jimin. This is his and Liya’s life. Their world and universe. You’re just a stranger. It’s so unfair to expect that Jimin would care about you. To say the least, you’re embarrassed to realize that you indeed expect him to grieve your departure. Ridiculous. Shameless. It was indeed a day in paradise. A dream. And the thing about dream? They always come to an end when you wake up. This is the end of your dream. Well, you’ll find a way to deal with reality somehow. You know how to manage through heartbreaks. If Jimin wants you to leave like that, you will. He can go fuck himself. If he doesn’t care, neither will you. You will show him your middle finger when you say goodbye.

Yes, just Goodbye. No, ‘I’ll miss you’. No. Nothing else. Just Goodbye.  

GOOD FUCKING BYE!

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

a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I'm very shy asking this, BUT, if anyone would know it's probably you? So. I'm a vagina owner. Kind of new to the sex thing. grew up scared of it, now I'm not and I want to experience things since I've realized it's okay to be horny. but like nothing fits in there. my boyfriend managed to get some fingers in, and that felt nice, but too much and it hurts. It's a really fine line. I think it's kind of been stretching every time we try, but it's been so slow going and I'm worried it'll take forever if it isn't some kind of condition or just how I was born. is there a way to kind of speed up that process? anything I can do solo to try and figure out what I can physically handle and can't? I'm aware this is kind of a broad question, I'm just not sure where to even start looking for answers on it. I don't want to just.... shove shit up there when I don't really know how to do it safely. If you have any resources or something I could read I'd really appreciate it.

hi anon,

yes, the thing you can do is practice. you're learning to work a new series of muscles exactly the same as you would if you were getting into running or karate or ballroom dancing. you would, hopefully, not try to go straight to running a marathon without taking time to train your body and build up your resilience, so don't do that with your pussy either!

the more you practice, either solo or with your boyfriend, the easier it gets! and for the love of god, don't forget to use lube to help ease the process!

[chimindity]

Playing video games with brother!jj. Warning | reader is a toddler; horror video games. A/N | I might have a lack of sibling bond, who knows? ; divider made by my sweetie @marvelfanfics1 ♡

You can't stop skipping around in your brother's bedroom, feeling bored and wanting his attention, while he is playing video games at his desk. That's when he suddenly has an idea in his mind. He turns around to look at you, sprawled on the floor playing with your stuffed bunny. A sly smirk appears on his face as he speaks -"Sweetcheeks, wanna play video games with your bro?" He lifts up his headphone from his head as he watches you glance up at him.

A wide smile lights up your face as you sit up to pick up your stuffed animal and stumble your way to his desk. -"Can we play dress to impress, please?" You struggle to climb onto his lap after he leans back in his chair. He then brings his hands under your armpits to lift you up and sit you on his lap against his chest.

You hear him sigh behind you as he places his hand back on the computer mouse, -"Nah, I've got something more fun; you'll see," he says. He slides his fingers through his hair as he waits for the game to download. You notice the scary icon on the screen and lean back against your brother to hide yourself. -"Jayj, it seems scary," you mumble, bringing your stuffed bunny in front of your face.

He tsks and takes your stuffed bunny out of your hands as you are getting distracted by the game. -"No, it is not; trust me, it'll become your favorite game," he murmurs and presses his mouth against your head, leaving a kiss to reassure you. The screen finally loads, and your brother clicks on 'start'.

You jolt in his lap as you watch the screen become sinister. JJ encircles you in his arms to reach the keyboard with his hands. -"You are such a coward, hey, keep your eyes on the screen," he pauses, gently turning your face back to the computer while still trying to stay focused on the game. -"No! Jayj," you whine, wanting to get off his lap already, but he tightens his grip to steady you.

-"Give me your hand" he places your hand on the computer mouse as his hand goes on top of yours to still be able to control the gameplay. -"Relax, those monsters are not even that scary, sweetcheeks," he chuckles, feeling your small figure shaking in his lap.

You jolt and squeal every now and then at the slight jumpscare, but it only makes your brother chuckle even more. You manage to pick up your stuffed bunny and hide yourself behind it while trembling with fear. -"I don't like that game," you mumble, sniffing dramatically while rubbing the tag of your stuffie with your fingers.

-"Uh, keep looking, there will be a cat in a few seconds," he rubs the back of his neck. You suddenly focus on the screen, eager to see the cat. "-Jayj where—" you whine, and quickly get cut off as you look at the jumpscare showing up on the screen, causing you to cry immediately and drop your comfort object on the floor. -"Shit, hey— I'm sorry, it was a joke, dude, I mean sis," he tries to comfort you while holding himself from bursting into laughter. -"You are mean, I hate you," you sob harder, hiding yourself behind your hands.

He leans forward to pick up your stuffed bunny from the floor and gives it back to you. -"I'm sorry, I just wanted to play with you," he gently bounces his lap to soothe you as you curl into his chest, sniffles slipping out of your mouth while he gently runs his fingers through your hair. -"How about we play that game you love so much?" He looks down at you, snuggling in the crook of his neck as you shake your head 'no.'

He sighs and holds you tight in his arms, -"guess you're too little to play video games" he murmurs to himself as he watches you fidget with your stuffed bunny's ears.

Taglist

@marvelfanfics1 @mrvlxgrl @wearemadeofstardust0 @ziggyfaremen @jjsfavgirl @nemesyaaa @

[charliesangel67]

Against all odds

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Word count- 1567

Warnings: Smutttt, a little bit of fluff, acedemic rivals (kind of, idk how to write it)

Authors note: I'm actually so sorry this took so long, idek why but it was a bit hard to write. Anyway, it's here and I hope you enjoy.

This was based of off @weirdowithnobeardo 's idea which is the first comment on this post

“Ok, can somebody tell me the answer to question b?” Quickly, hands flew up in the air. “Mr Cameron, what is the answer?” “4x+7n=33y” Rafe said confidently. “”That’s wrong.” I announced. “Go on, what’s your theory Miss y/n?” My teacher said, “It’s 4x+7n=36y because x is equal to 2.” I stated. “That is correct y/n, well done.” My teacher smiled at me. I smiled in Rafe’s direction but he just glared at me. Next period science, we got our tests back, “So Cameron, what did you get?” I asked Rafe curiously. “94%, you?” “99%” I replied with a smile. Again, he seemed so angry at me for getting a higher score. This went on for the next couple of weeks, He acted like we were academic rivals.

3 weeks later

There it was, the test sitting on my desk, a bright red ‘A+’ written in the top right corner. I was proud of myself for scoring so high on such a hard test. It was 40% of my final GPA result so I had to score high. I turned around to see Rafe staring daggers at me. “Bad result Cameron?” I asked him teasingly. “Shut up y/l/n” He growled as he clenched his jaw. I giggled to myself and turned my attention back to the teacher. 

The bell rang for the end of the day and I hurriedly grabbed my backpack and ran to my locker. My friend Maddy always meets me at my locker because we’re in different year levels, Maddy’s in 10th and I’m in 11th grade. “So, how was your day Mads?” I asked unlocking my locker. “Shit. So fucking shit you have no idea.” “I’m sure it couldn't have been that bad.” I laughed. “No, y/n it was bad. So bad in fact that I got broken up with by Jason the son of a bitch in front of half the cafeteria.” She announced. “Oh shit, sorry babe, he was no good for you anyway.” I said walking away with her. 

As we were walking to my car, Maddy realised she had forgotten something in her locker so she ran back towards the buildings. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab hold of my upper arm and pin me against a wall. A hand covered my mouth to stop me from screaming. “Oh you son of a bitch. You’re so fucking done little girl.” I knew the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and situation, I realised it was Jason and his group of friends. 

“So, did you and Maddy talk shit about me to the school after what I did to her?” He asked again, still keeping me against the wall. “What the fuck. No we didn’t, why would you think that?” I was astonished at the accusation. “Because, now the whole school thinks that I have an STD and all the girls I’ve slept with have smashed my locker and put slime in the gas tank of my car.” He complained. “Wow, creative girls for real.” I said with a little laugh. “Ok, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” 

“It was me, you son of a bitch!” Yelled Rafe, walking towards us. “Why?! Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asked, close to tears. Rafe pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts reading some texts - 

“‘C’mon Maddy, It won’t be that bad. Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

“Because I’m not ready for that Jason, I’ve told you a million times. We have only been together a month and I’m not ready to have sex yet. Just stop asking me already.”

“Fine. Go fuck some other dude, you fucking slut. You’ll regret not being with me.” “What do you mean Jason? Are you breaking up with me??”” 

“Hey! Where did you get my phone from you bitch?!” Jason asked launching himself at Rafe, who dodged the blow perfectly. “You left her on delivered for 9 hours just so you could slut shame her and break up with her in the cafeteria in front of everyone, all because she didn’t want to sleep with you?!  Not to mention you cheated on her the entire relationship. You’re a real ass man.” Rafe said. “I suggest you leave Maddy, Y/n and all the other girls you’ve messed with, alone and get on with your life.” Rafe yelled as Jason and his friends ran away.

They knew how powerful Rafe could be and they didn’t want to get on his bad side. “Thanks Rafe. Why did you do that anyway?” I asked, “Don’t think I did it for you, I hate Jason.” “Oh, okay.” I replied sheepishly before walking away, back to my car and to meet with Maddy. The drive home was silent after I told Maddy all about what happened. Her being in disbelief about what Rafe had done to Jason. 

A couple weeks later, it was Midsummers, I had bought a nice dress and had a plan laid out on how we were going to spend the evening with Maddy and her sister, Kiara. Kiara picked us up and we drove to the Cameron’s mansion as that was where the party was. Kiara was friends with Sarah, Rafes younger sister.

A couple hours into the party,  Rafe approached me, taking my hand and dragging me upstairs. “Rafe, what are you doing?” I whispered, “Taking you to my room.” “Why?” I asked, a little scared. “Because you look way too beautiful in that dress and I noticed JJ basically eye fucking you.” He turned to face me, looking very sexy in his button down shirt and his hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking I put my hand out to brush his hair away from his face, he grabbed my neck and leaned down to kiss me. 

“No, Rafe, we can’t do this.” I said as I pulled away. “Why not y/n?” “Because, I’m a pogue, you're a kook and you should hate me. In fact, you did act like you hated me after you stood up for me in front of Jason, and now suddenly you’re acting all jealous when JJ looks at me?” I asked in a confronting manner. “Look, y/n, I like you.” “No, we can’t Rafe. Your dad is gonna kill you and my parents are gonna fucking disown me or something if they found out I was dating a kook, especially Mr Rafe Cameron with his bad reputation.” 

Rafe didn’t say another word, he just leaned down again to kiss me, This time it was more passionate. At that moment, I didn’t even care that we shouldn’t be doing this, I just kissed him back. Rafe picked me up and carried me to his room. He threw me on the bed and locked the door. He crawled on top of me and placed feather light kisses along my neck to my cleavage. “Can I?” he asked as his fingers were tangled in the strap off my dress. “Mmmh,” I responded softly as he carefully took off my dress. 

I tugged at his belt, hinting for him to take off his pants as I unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, we were both butt naked, he took my boobs in his hands, massaging them and kissing along them. I moaned at the pleasure. I palmed his cock through his boxers and I felt him getting hard underneath my hand. Quickly, Rafe ripped off his boxers and rubbed his cock against my entrance. Already slick and wet, he pushed inside. I moaned as he did so, Rafe thrusted slowly and sensually.

“Mmh, You like that baby?” He asked, staring into my eyes. “So much Rafe.” I replied. Rolling my eyes back as Rafe thrusted harder into my soaking cunt and he kissed along my breasts. Soon, I was nearing my release, my cunt tightening around him. And a couple thrusts later I had come undone onto his thick cock. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna come.” “Come in me Rafe.” I begged him and seconds later he squirted his hot cum into my pussy. Out of breath and panting, I crawled on top of him, lying on his chest, my hands tangled in his hair as he kissed my neck. “Promise we can keep this a secret for a little while longer until I tell my parents?” I asked him. Rafe nodded and uttered a soft ‘yes’. I kissed him one more time before getting up and getting dressed. 

“I’m gonna head back down stairs okay? The girls are gonna be worried about where I was.” I told him, opening the door. “One more kiss babe.” Rafe said and when I turned around, seeing his abs again stirred something deep within me. Want. I wanted this man. His hair, his face, his body, his personality towards me. I wanted everything about him. I didn’t think, I just jumped back onto the bed into his arms. Rafe kissed me hard and passionate and I melted into his touch. Soon we were back at it again, he was thrusting slowly and sensually into my soaked cunt as I buried my face in his shoulder quieting my moans.

That night was the best sex I ever had. 

I also got a super protective boyfriend.

I hope you guys liked this 😁