#it still makes me wildly uncomfortable that this even happened

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ━━ Swimming in Sin

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.6K

☆ ━ warnings: homophobia, religious themes, mentions of conversation therapy, emotional & physical abuse (it’s not much but if you’re uncomfortable reading it, don’t)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: imma just leave this here

IT’S MONDAY now, and Dani sits in the passenger seat of Paige’s car, the engine off but the faint hum of life around them in the parking lot loud enough to feel present. Students mill about the edges of the lot, but the two of them are hidden away in Paige’s old car. The smell of Paige’s half-eaten sandwich lingers between them, mingling with the faint scent of Dani’s lavender hand lotion.

Paige slouches dramatically in the driver’s seat, her legs stretched out so far her sneakered feet almost hit the pedals. Her sandwich sits abandoned in her lap, crumbs dotting the fabric of her sweatpants, and her face is twisted into a scowl.

“I mean, two and a half weeks,” Paige groans, leaning her head back against the seat. “It’s so dumb. No leaving the house, no seeing any of my friends, no hanging out with you. What am I, bro, twelve?”

Dani picks at the edges of the granola bar in her hand, peeling back the wrapper bit by bit. She keeps her voice light as she says, “What’d you think was gonna happen? He just lets you off the hook? You threw a party, Paige—and never even tried to get permission. And you were completely wasted.”

Paige rolls her eyes so hard Dani thinks she might actually sprain something. “It’s not like I killed someone,” she mutters. “And it’s not like I wasn’t gonna clean up after. Besides, you were there to take care of me. He should’ve been thanking you, not grounding me.”

Dani shakes her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite herself. “I don’t think that’s how he sees it.”

“Well, he’s being dramatic,” Paige insists, sitting up now, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks. “Two and a half weeks of this? How am I supposed to not hang out with you for that long? I get separation anxiety!”

Dani shrugs, fighting a smile at the last sentence, though the thought tugs at her too. She’s upset about it, of course she is, but she’d seen this coming. In fact, she’d half-expected Bob to ban her from their house altogether after Saturday. Two weeks of grounding, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t seem so bad.

“You’ll survive,” Dani says, trying to sound casual even though she knows Paige won’t let it drop that easily. “Besides, it’s only two weeks. And we can still hang out at lunch and in Lit every day. And we can FaceTime whenever you want.”

Paige groans dramatically, as if the suggestion alone is an insult. “But it’s not the same,” she whines, slumping back against the seat again. “I can’t cuddle you over FaceTime, Dani. Or kiss you.” She leans over suddenly, draping herself across the center console so that her head lands against Dani’s shoulder. Dani stiffens for a moment, glancing out the window to make sure no one’s looking, before relaxing.

“It’s not the same,” Paige repeats, her voice muffled against Dani’s jacket.

Dani sighs, tilting her head down to rest her cheek against the top of Paige’s head. She feels the familiar weight of her girlfriend pressing against her, grounding her, even as Paige continues to pout. “I know it’s not the same,” Dani says softly.

She shifts, her free hand moving to tilt Paige’s face up toward hers. Paige’s blue eyes, always so clear and striking, look impossibly—and dramatically—sad now, and it tugs at something deep in Dani’s chest. She leans in, pressing a light kiss to Paige’s lips. It’s quick, barely more than a brush, but it’s enough to feel the way Paige melts against her.

When Dani pulls back, Paige lets out a little whine, her lips still parted as though she’s waiting for more. Dani grins despite herself, resting her forehead against Paige’s for a moment. “Only two weeks,” she murmurs.

“Two weeks too long,” Paige mutters, her eyes closing as she leans into Dani’s touch.

Dani chuckles softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Paige’s face. “You’ll survive,” she repeats, though this time it feels more like a promise than a statement.

THE DRIVEWAY is quiet as Dani parks, the hum of the engine cutting off abruptly and leaving her in stillness. She exhales, her breath visible in the icy Minnesota night air, and slouches forward for a moment, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. The gymnastics meet had been a long one—nearly three hours of standing, crouching, and angling for the perfect shots. Her back aches, her legs are sore, and all she wants is to crawl into bed and disappear under her blankets.

But there’s homework waiting, a mountain of it she’s been putting off. AP Calculus, a Lit essay, and some editing work for the yearbook photos she’d taken tonight. Dani groans quietly to herself, leaning back in her seat before finally mustering the energy to grab her photography bag from the passenger seat.

The cold hits her immediately as she steps out of the car, sharp and unforgiving, slicing through her sweatshirt and sinking into her skin. She hurries up the walkway, her sneakers crunching against the thin layer of frost on the ground. Her fingers fumble with the keys, and she’s relieved when the door finally swings open, the familiar warmth of home enveloping her.

Dani kicks off her shoes, letting them fall in a heap by the door, and shrugs off her coat, tossing it onto the rack. Her keys find their place on the hook by the wall, and she drops her photography bag by the entryway, too tired to care about putting it away properly. Her stomach grumbles softly as she pads toward the kitchen, craving something quick and easy before she tackles the rest of her night.

But the second she steps into the kitchen, she freezes.

Her dad is sitting at the table, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes already locked on hers.

The look he gives her is unyielding, sharp enough to cut through the fog of her exhaustion. His mouth is set in a firm line, his jaw tight, and there’s a weight to his gaze that makes Dani’s stomach twist.

She knows.

She immediately knows.

She doesn’t need him to say anything. She doesn’t need an explanation. She can feel it in the air between them, heavy and suffocating.

He knows about her and Paige.

Dani’s body goes cold. It’s not just the March air still clinging to her from outside, nor the exhaustion weighing her limbs from the long day. This is something else entirely—something that feels like dread pooling in the pit of her stomach, clawing its way up her throat.

She forces herself to meet her dad’s eyes, but it’s like staring into a storm—chaos barely contained behind the sharp lines of his face, his clenched jaw, his rigid posture. He’s keeping his tone measured, his voice low, but somehow that makes it worse. Scarier, almost, than if he were yelling at her.

When he gestures to the chair across from him and says, “I think we should have a talk,” her legs nearly buckle.

Her hands are trembling as she pulls out the chair and sinks into it. She sits on the edge of the seat, stiff and awkward, her fingers finding their way to the edge of the table to anchor herself. It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real. This isn’t happening—not here, not now. But the look on his face tells her otherwise.

It feels like an out-of-body experience, that the thing she’s feared the worst over the past few months is finally coming true.

“I was talking to Beau’s father earlier today,” Dani’s father begins, his voice cool and detached. “You know—your apparent boyfriend.”

The way he spits the word out makes Dani flinch, her nails digging into the underside of the table. Her heart pounds so loudly she’s sure he can hear it. She doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing.

“I hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him since the fall,” he continues. “You know, since he switched companies and we no longer worked together. But today, he told me some very… interesting things.”

His eyes are sharp as they pin her in place, his words deliberate. “Do you want to know what they are?”

Dani can’t respond. Her throat is dry, her chest tight, and the room feels like it’s closing in on her. She can only stare at the table, her fingers now nervously picking at her nails beneath it.

When she doesn’t answer, he presses, his voice dropping to something sharper. “Except, I think you already know what they are, Danielle. So, do you want to tell me yourself?”

Dani’s breath catches. Every instinct tells her to run, to get up and leave before this gets worse, but her body is frozen, glued to the chair. Her father is watching her so intently, waiting for her to break, and she doesn’t know how much longer she can hold it together.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she swallows the lump in her throat and forces herself to speak. Her voice is small, barely audible. “Beau and I broke up.”

The admission feels like a death sentence, but she can’t take it back now.

Her dad’s laugh is cold, devoid of any humor, and it makes her stomach churn. “Yeah, you did,” he says, his tone dripping with disdain. “In November, apparently. Over four fucking months ago, Danielle!”

He slams his fist against the table, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. Dani jumps, her pulse skyrocketing, and the first sting of tears pricks at her eyes.

“I just…” she begins, her voice breaking, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” he repeats, his laughter sharper this time, almost unhinged. “Oh, we haven’t even scratched the surface on that.”

Dani can’t bring herself to look at him anymore. She stares at her lap, blinking back tears, wishing she could disappear.

“You want to know the most interesting thing Mr. Hudson told me today?” he says, his voice cutting through the silence.

Dani doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“He told me that Beau said you broke up with him for a girl.”

The words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. He lets them settle, lets them twist like a knife in her chest before he repeats himself, his voice dripping with disgust.

“A girl.”

Paige.

Dani’s lungs constrict as her dad’s words pile onto her like stones, each one heavier than the last. Her heart pounds so loudly in her ears she can barely hear him, but the venom in his voice is unmistakable.

“I didn’t want to believe him. Not even a little bit,” he says, his voice trembling now, teetering on the edge of something raw. He shakes his head, as if trying to erase the very idea from his mind. “I couldn’t help but think to myself that no, my little girl wouldn’t do this—not again. I thought you’d learned your lesson, gotten past these types of things.”

Her stomach twists violently at the phrase these types of things, a wave of shame and dread crashing over her. She can’t meet his eyes anymore. She focuses on a crack in the table, blinking furiously to keep her vision clear. But it doesn’t work. A tear slips down her cheek, then another. She wipes at them quickly, desperate to hide any sign of weakness.

“I thought that maybe the Hudson boy made this up,” he continues, his tone brittle, almost pleading. “To save face, you know? To make himself feel better about the breakup. I refused to believe it because I’ve been so proud of you, Danielle. So proud of all the progress you’ve made.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and it’s like a knife twisting in her gut. She feels the weight of his disappointment like an iron shackle around her neck, dragging her down.

And then he drops the pretense of restraint entirely. “But I came home,” he says, his voice growing sharper, harder. “I needed to figure it out for myself. So I went up to your bedroom and looked around. And sure enough, Beau Hudson was telling the truth. You did leave him for a girl. The same girl you nearly ruined your life for last summer!”

Dani’s breath hitches, panic clawing at her chest as he pulls items off the chair beside him, tossing them onto the table like damning evidence in a courtroom.

A Hopkins basketball sweatshirt. Paige’s sweatshirt. He must’ve found it in her closet.

The printed photo from last week’s state championship, where Paige’s mom had insisted on taking a picture of the two of them. In it, Dani and Paige are standing close, too close, their smiles wide and happy, the kind that only come from people who are comfortable in each other’s orbit. Their shoulders are pressed together, and Paige’s hand is wrapped around Dani’s waist.

A folded note with the initials PB scribbled on the front, the one Paige had slipped into her photography bag last week after practice.

More things follow: a pressed flower Paige had given her after a walk in the park, a ticket stub from the movie they’d gone to see together last month, a journal entry about Paige that Dani had foolishly written—her father must’ve ripped the page from the notebook. It’s all so mundane, these little artifacts of their relationship, but to her dad, they’re something else entirely.

All the air seems to leave Dani’s body as she stares at the pile. There’s no way out of this. None. He’s found everything.

Her dad begins pacing, his hand dragging down his face as his breathing grows heavier. His movements are frantic now, like he’s trying to physically outrun his own fury. He seems to be losing himself, his voice starting to rise, too.

“I thought we were past all of this!” he shouts, octaves echoing off the walls. “I thought you’d learned! I thought you’d grown! But here we are, right back at square one, and you’re still the same little sinner, getting caught up in all this gay bullshit again. It’s disgusting, Danielle.”

The words hit her like a slap to the face. She feels her cheeks burn, but it’s not from anger. It’s from humiliation, from the sheer weight of hearing him say the words out loud, like her existence is something filthy, something shameful.

Her breathing quickens, shallow and erratic, as he barrels on.

“I sent you to camp!” he yells, gesturing wildly as if the memory of it alone should be enough to set her straight. Truthfully, it might. “They told me they fixed you. They told me you got better, that you understood the weight of your actions, the power of God.” He pauses, running both hands through his hair, his eyes wide and wild. “I mean, Jesus Christ, Dani, I’m really gonna have to send you back there. Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is for you? That you’re gonna have to be sent back for a round two because you couldn’t get it through your thick fucking skull the first time?”

“No,” Dani whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pulse roaring in her ears.

Her dad doesn’t hear her—or doesn’t care.

“I sacrificed so much to send you there!” he continues, his voice rising again. “And for what? For you to come back and make a mockery of this family all over again?”

“Please, no,” Dani says again, louder this time, but her voice wavers and cracks.

She can feel herself spiraling. Her hands shake uncontrollably as she grips the edge of the chair, her knuckles white. She can’t go back to camp. She can’t.

The memory of it flashes in her mind—cold, sterile rooms; endless hours of lectures about sin and shame; the suffocating, unrelenting pressure to repent for something she doesn’t even think is wrong. The thought of being trapped there again, of losing herself completely this time, is unbearable.

Dani feels herself sinking, her father’s tirade muffling into a dull roar as the panic grips her fully. Her breaths are shallow, too quick, and the edges of her vision start to darken. She clutches at the back of the chair, trying to steady herself, but the weight of his words is unbearable.

Not again. I can’t go back.

But his voice cuts through her spiraling thoughts like a blade. “Do you hear me, Danielle?” he shouts, slamming a hand onto the counter. “You’re going back. I don’t care what it takes. You need to fucking learn the severity of the sins you’ve been swimming in! I’ll send you on the next flight if I have to!”

The words snap something in her, a thread pulled too tight finally breaking. Her mind drags her back, unwillingly, to that first day at camp.

JUNE 2019

The air inside Mrs. Keating’s office is thick and stifling, a mix of lavender and cleaning solution that seems calculated to force calm. Dani sits in the chair across from her assigned counselor, her shoulders curled inward and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She doesn’t meet Mrs. Keating’s eyes, instead keeping her gaze fixed on the wall behind her.

Mrs. Keating looks calm, unnervingly so. She’s an older woman, her hair pinned back into a severe bun, her glasses perched neatly on her nose. There’s nothing about her that invites warmth or softness.

She’s quiet for a moment, studying Dani like she’s some kind of puzzle to be solved. “Do you know why you’re here, Danielle?” she asks finally, her voice calm and deliberate.

Dani shrugs, her movements small and tense. “Not sure,” she says, her tone clipped.

Mrs. Keating tilts her head slightly, like she’s trying to peer inside Dani’s mind. “You’re here because your actions have led you down a path of sin. A path that separates you from your family, from your faith, and from God.”

The words sit heavily in the room, and Dani shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Her pulse is steady but loud in her ears, and she can feel the way her body tightens at the mention of God. It’s always God with them. Like He’s some weapon to wield against her, not some presence she’s ever known to feel safe or loved by.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Dani says after a long pause. Her voice is soft, almost apologetic, but there’s a firmness beneath it.

Mrs. Keating nods slowly, as though she expected the answer. “You believe that because the enemy—the Devil—has planted lies in your heart, Danielle. Lies that make what you’ve done feel natural, even good. But deep down, you know that it’s not. That’s why you feel guilt, isn’t it?”

Dani swallows hard. She doesn’t feel guilt—not about Paige, anyway. There’s guilt about other things, sure. About being sent here. About what it’s doing to her dad, about how she’s made everything so messy and complicated. But not about Paige.

Still, the way Mrs. Keating speaks gets under her skin. It’s calm, calculated. Like she’s dissecting Dani piece by piece and cataloging her flaws for some case study. Dani hates it. It makes her feel small. Exposed.

“I don’t feel guilty,” Dani says, but the words come out quieter than she intended. She’s not sure she even believes them.

“Of course you do,” Mrs. Keating counters smoothly, leaning forward slightly. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. Your father wouldn’t have sent you.”

That makes Dani flinch. Her father. The sharp sting of his disappointment still weighs heavily on her chest, pressing down in a way she can’t escape. His face when he’d told her she was going to camp had been full of anger, yes, but there had been something worse beneath it—something that looked like shame.

He hadn’t even looked at her when he dropped her off.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Dani mutters, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We’re going to talk about it, Danielle,” Mrs. Keating says, her tone firm but still devoid of emotion. “Because this is the first step. You have to face the reality of your actions if you’re ever going to heal.”

Dani’s hands tighten in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. “There’s nothing to heal from,” she says, more forcefully this time before repeating, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mrs. Keating doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she sits back in her chair, her sharp eyes fixed on Dani like she’s waiting for something. Dani shifts under the weight of her gaze, but she doesn’t break the silence.

Finally, Mrs. Keating speaks. “Tell me about the girl.”

Dani’s chest tightens. She doesn’t look up.

“The one your father mentioned,” Mrs. Keating presses. “The one who led you astray.”

“She didn’t lead me astray,” Dani protests quickly, the words tumbling out before she can stop them.

Mrs. Keating doesn’t react to the outburst. “So you do feel something for her, then.”

Dani freezes, her stomach twisting into knots. She doesn’t know how to navigate this, doesn’t know what answer won’t be used against her later.

After a moment, she settles for, “There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing. Paige isn’t wrong. What we had isn’t wrong.” Her tone is slightly more argumentative, more confrontational than usual. But she’s been sent to this unfamiliar, scary fucking place so she supposes she has a right to.

“What you had,” Mrs. Keating repeats, leaning forward slightly. “You speak as though it’s in the past. Is that because you already know it cannot last? That it is not sustainable?”

Dani’s jaw tightens, her teeth grinding together. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust herself to speak without snapping. She can feel her nails biting into her skin, but the sharp pain is grounding. It keeps her from falling apart completely.

Mrs. Keating takes the silence as an opening. “This is a safe space, Danielle. You can be honest here. Talk to me.”

Dani doesn’t talk to her. She doesn’t talk at all. She looks away, her gaze zeroing in on a jagged pattern on the wood flooring, eyes wide and unblinking. Her eyes burn, but she won’t let Keating see her cry. She won’t give her that satisfaction. She refuses.

Eventually, Mrs. Keating stands, the movement slow and deliberate. She walks around the desk and stops in front of Dani, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Dani stiffens at the contact, trying to shrug the hand off, but Mrs. Keating’s grip is firm. It doesn’t hurt, not quite, but it feels invasive.

“You have a lot to learn here, Danielle Callan,” Mrs. Keating says quietly, her voice unshakable. “But that’s why you’re here. To learn. And you will.”

THE MEMORY lingers in Dani’s mind like a weight she can’t shake, thick and suffocating. Mrs. Keating’s calm voice echoes in her head, the grip on her shoulder a phantom pressure she swears she can still feel. She shakes her head slightly, trying to dislodge the thought, but it refuses to leave.

She can’t do it.

She can’t do it again.

Her dad’s voice cuts through her thoughts, sharp and furious. He’s been yelling for what feels like forever, pacing the length of the living room with heavy, deliberate steps. Every word he spits out feels like a lash against her skin, each syllable steeped in anger, in disbelief, in the kind of disappointment that makes Dani feel impossibly small.

“How could you do this to us again?” he barks, throwing his arms up. “After everything we went through, after everything you went through—this is how you repay us? By… by flaunting it like this? You didn’t even try to hide it this time, Danielle!”

Dani winces at his words, each one sinking into her chest like a stone. She stays seated on the hard chair, her hands balling into fists on her thighs. Her fingernails bite into her palms, the sharp sting grounding her, keeping her from unraveling completely.

He stops pacing suddenly, turning to face her with his hands on his hips. His eyes burn with conviction, his expression a mixture of frustration and bewilderment. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he demands.

Dani’s breath catches in her throat. She can’t hold his gaze for long, can’t stand the way he’s looking at her, like she’s some broken thing he can’t figure out how to fix. Her eyes drop to her lap, and she shifts uncomfortably in the chair.

Her throat feels tight, her eyes burning with the threat of tears she refuses to let fall. She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t—I…” she starts, trying to force the words out. “I can’t be fixed, Dad. This isn’t something that’s fixable.”

The silence that follows is heavy, almost unbearable. She risks a glance at him, but his face is unreadable now, his mouth a firm line, his eyes locked on her.

So she keeps going, her voice trembling but steady enough to push through. “I didn’t choose to like other girls—like Paige—like that. It just… happened. I was born like this. I’ve had these thoughts since I was little. I can’t be fixed, can’t be changed. The—the ‘gay’ stuff you’re talking about can’t just be prayed away.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, Dani thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s heard her. But then he straightens, his expression hardening, and he shakes his head. “You didn’t try hard enough,” he says firmly, his voice like steel. “You weren’t at camp long enough.”

The words ignite something in Dani, something sharp and bitter and raw. Her head snaps up, and for the first time, she meets his gaze head-on, her eyes flashing. Her voice is louder now, trembling with emotion she can’t contain.

“I did try!” she says, standing up as the chair scrapes against the wooden floor. “I tried so hard! I didn’t talk to Paige for months; I completely pushed her away. I dated Beau like you wanted me to. I did everything that was supposed to be right! And I was miserable for every second of it!”

Her voice cracks, and she feels the tears spill over now, hot and relentless. She swipes at them angrily but keeps going, because she has to. Because if she doesn’t, she might never say it again.

“I wasn’t happy that way!” she cries, her voice breaking with the weight of it all. “Can’t you just let me be happy, Dad?”

The tears come harder now, blurring her vision as she stares at him, her chest heaving with every breath. She’s willing him to understand, willing him to hear her, because all she wants—all she wants—is to be happy.

But the silence stretches on, suffocating, and Dani’s heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

Dani’s dad stares at her, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as if he’s physically restraining himself from exploding again. His gaze feels like it’s drilling into her, searching for something, as if the right words might pull her back into the version of herself he’s convinced she’s lost.

Dani meets his eyes, even though everything in her screams to look away. They’re both standing now, face to face, close enough that she can see the tight lines of his jaw, the furrow between his brows that only deepens the longer he looks at her.

For a moment, she thinks maybe he’s going to soften, maybe he’ll finally hear her. But then his face hardens all over again, and his voice comes out sharp, slicing through the fragile silence.

“This is a sin,” he snaps, the words like venom on his tongue. “You think you know better than God? You think this is how He made you?” He throws up his hands, his voice rising with every word. “No, Danielle, you were not born this way. You were fine until… until her.”

Dani’s stomach drops. She doesn’t have to ask who he means.

He doesn’t stop. “It’s that Bueckers girl! She did this to you—she’s the one who ruined you!”

“No, she wasn’t!” Dani yells, her voice breaking halfway through. Her hands shake at her sides as she takes a step closer, her eyes wide and pleading. “Dad, no! Everything she did, I did too! There was no… no influence, no manipulation! I’m telling you, this isn’t something you or anyone else can fix!”

But he’s already shaking his head furiously, his expression twisting into something cruel. “It can be fixed!” he shouts back, his voice booming in the small space. “I refuse to watch you go to hell over this! I refuse, do you hear me? You’re gonna go back to that camp, and they’re gonna help you, and you’re gonna stay long enough this time to be saved, I swear it!”

Dani feels like the floor is falling out from under her. “I’m not going back there!” she protests, her voice cracking with desperation. She thinks her nails might be digging so harsh into her that it’ll draw blood. She doesn’t care.

“Oh, yes, you will!” he yells back, his eyes flashing with a fire she’s never seen before.

“You can’t make me!” she throws back, her voice raw.

For all his negative words directed at her, all the screaming and yelling, all the accusations—there’s always been something that’s held him back from ever going past using his words. He’s never dared lay a hand on his daughter. But whatever that something was that stopped him has clearly been thrown out the window.

It’s so fast she almost doesn’t process it. His hand comes down, hard, across her face. The sound of the slap reverberates in the room, sharp and deafening, cutting through the air like a whip.

Her head jerks to the side from the force of it, her cheek immediately stinging, a fiery burn spreading across her skin. For a second, she can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but stand there, frozen.

Her hand comes up slowly, almost instinctively, to press against the spot where he struck her. Her palm is shaking as it touches her face, as if to confirm the reality of what just happened.

She stares at him, wide-eyed, her vision blurring with tears she refuses to let fall. There’s something unfamiliar in his eyes now, a look she’s never seen before, and it chills her to her core.

Disbelief crashes over her like a wave, drowning out everything else. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stands there, her heart pounding in her ears, the sting on her cheek the only thing grounding her in the moment.

For a moment, Dani stands frozen, her mind struggling to catch up with her body. Her breath is shallow and ragged, her chest heaving like she’s run a marathon. Some people freeze in fear, others run. Fight or flight—it’s instinctual. And Dani has always been the kind to freeze up.

But the fear in her now is different, deeper, and it sinks into her chest like a weight she can’t dislodge. It’s not the kind of fear that paralyzes—it’s the kind that propels. She can’t stay here. Not with him like this. Not when she doesn’t know what he’ll do next.

Her gaze darts to the table, where her phone lies just within reach, and she finally forces her limbs into action. Her hand trembles as she lunges for it, but before her fingers can graze the sleek surface, her dad’s hand intercepts her.

“Dad—wait—”

Her words barely leave her mouth before he wrenches the phone away. She watches, helpless, as he hurls it across the kitchen with a furious motion. The phone hits the tile floor with a sickening crack, the sound cutting through her like a blade. Bits of glass scatter, catching the light, and the air feels heavier, oppressive, as if the walls themselves are closing in.

Dani lets out a strangled sob, the sound escaping her throat without permission. She takes a step back, and then another, her hands coming up instinctively to shield herself. Her back bumps against the edge of the counter, and she feels trapped, like an animal cornered by its predator.

Her father’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and commanding. “Do you hear me, Danielle?”

His tone isn’t loud anymore, but it’s worse that way. The quiet intensity of it crawls under her skin and wraps around her chest like a vice. She can’t look at him. She’s too scared of what she might see. Instead, her eyes dart toward the shattered remnants of her phone, then back to the floor, her body trembling.

“Dad, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her throat feels raw, her words choked by the tears she’s holding back. “You’re scaring me. Please, just—just stop.”

But he doesn’t stop. He moves closer, his footsteps deliberate, until he’s towering over her. Dani flinches as his hands reach out, but he doesn’t hit her again. Instead, his fingers clamp down on her shoulders, firm and unyielding.

“You’re going back tomorrow,” he says, his face mere inches from hers. His voice is calm now, too calm, but every syllable lands like a blow. “You’re going back. And you’re staying there until they fix you.”

Dani tries to shake her head, tries to move away from his grip, but he holds her in place. Her tears spill freely now, hot trails streaking down her cheeks.

“I can’t,” she chokes out, her voice cracking. “I can’t go back there. You don’t understand. I can’t do it again.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he snaps, his grip tightening. “Go upstairs. Pack your things.”

His words slam into her like a physical force, and she feels herself crumbling beneath the weight of them. She’s trembling, her knees weak, but she doesn’t move.

“Dad, I—”

“No.” His voice is steel. “Do you hear me, Danielle? Do what I said. Now.”

The intensity in his eyes pierces through her, and for a moment, all she can do is stare back at him, tears blurring her vision. She feels so small, so powerless, her body shrinking under the weight of his anger. The room is suffocating, the air thick and unrelenting.

When she finally finds her voice again, it comes out soft and broken. “I don’t want to go back.”

Her father doesn’t answer. He just stares at her, his expression set, his hands still gripping her shoulders as if holding her in place. The silence stretches between them, heavy and unyielding, and Dani feels herself breaking under it.

Dani doesn’t think; she just moves. Her father’s grip isn’t as strong as his words, and she twists out of it with a force she didn’t know she had. Her pulse pounds in her ears as she spots the keys hanging on the small hook by the door. They’re so close—just a couple of feet away.

She can make it. She has to make it.

Her body acts before her mind can catch up, surging forward. Her dad’s hands grab at her, but she slips free, adrenaline pushing her faster than his reaction time. Her fingers curl around the cool metal of her car keys, and she yanks the front door open in one motion. The air outside is cold and sharp, but she barely notices as she sprints out onto the porch and down the driveway, her socks sliding slightly on the concrete.

“Dani!” her father’s voice bellows behind her, furious and disbelieving.

She doesn’t stop. She can’t. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, and the ache in her chest is overwhelming, but her body doesn’t let her pause. The car is right there.

She reaches it just as he does, her hands fumbling to open the door. Her father’s voice is louder now, closer, almost on top of her. “Danielle! Stop this right now!”

But she doesn’t stop. She slides into the driver’s seat, slams the door shut, and locks it in one fluid motion. Her hands are shaking so violently she can barely grip the steering wheel, but she manages to press the ignition button.

Her dad is at the window now, his face red and furious, his voice muffled but still terrifyingly clear through the glass. “This is my car!” he yells, banging on the window. “I pay for it! Get out right now!”

Dani can’t look at him. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, her vision blurred with tears. Her whole body is trembling, her hands slipping on the wheel as she shifts into reverse.

“Danielle!” His fist slams against the glass again, making her jump, but she doesn’t let it stop her.

The car jerks as she pulls out of the driveway too fast, the tires screeching slightly against the pavement. She doesn’t care. Her dad’s voice fades into the background as she speeds down the street, her hands gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles turn white.

She doesn’t look back. Not at him, not at the house, not at the neighborhood she’s known her entire life.

Her chest feels like it’s caving in, her breath coming in shallow bursts. She’s crying so hard she can barely see, her tears mixing with the streaks of rain on the windshield. Everything feels blurry, distorted, like she’s underwater and the world is pressing in on all sides.

Her mind races as fast as the car. The words he said replay over and over, looping endlessly until they feel burned into her brain. You’re going back. You need to be fixed. I refuse to watch you go to hell.

Her dad’s voice has always been loud, always sharp, but this… this was different. Because for the first time in her life, Dani was scared of him. Truly, bone-deep scared. Not just of what he might have said to her, but what he might have done to her.

The thought of going back to camp makes her stomach churn violently. She can still hear the echo of Mrs. Keating’s voice in her head, those sickly sweet tones that masked something far darker. She can feel the weight of the prayers, the way they crushed her under their expectations, as if forcing her into a mold she could never fit.

I can’t go back there, she thinks, the words looping through her head like a desperate mantra. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

Her fingers tighten on the wheel, and she forces herself to focus on the road in front of her, though she has no idea where she’s going. The streets blur together, familiar landmarks passing by unnoticed. In the back of her mind, she knows she should have a plan, but right now, all she can do is drive.

In an ideal world, she’d go to Paige’s. Paige would know what to do. Paige always knows what to do. But Dani can’t. Paige’s house is too close, just one door down. Her dad would’ve followed her there in a heartbeat, and Paige is already in trouble enough as it is.

She lets out a shaky sob, her shoulders heaving as she turns onto a random street. The car feels too big and too small all at once, the silence inside it deafening. She’s not even sure how far she’s gone, but it doesn’t matter. The tears don’t stop.

Her hands are shaking so badly that she has to pull over, the car screeching to a halt on the side of a dimly lit road. She sits there, gripping the wheel as though it’s the only thing tethering her to reality, her body trembling with the force of her sobs.

Dani feels lost—nowhere to go, nothing in front of her.

[zmbienoir]

lowkey nervous to post rn cause someone i have blocked FOR SURE has access to this account and has relayed information to my ex.

[amiableness]

Little Lies

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy

A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.

Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.

His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.

Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.

It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.

You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.

Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”

His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.

“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.

“James.” You mimic.

He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”

You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”

"She thought we were a couple." He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. "Can you believe that? You and me?”

You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.

You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”

“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”

“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.

“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.

“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”

James protests, panicking, "But Lily doesn't know that! If you two could just pretend-"

"No, absolutely not! That is going too far." You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.

"Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!" James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.

"Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?" You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.

James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, "Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth."

James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.

While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.

Your frustration grows, "It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There's no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James's casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There's evidence to believe it."

"Are you joking?" You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.

Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.

But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.

James interjects, "Lily believed it. She even said she wasn't surprised."

"But she thought you and I were together?" You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.

"She might've just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him." Remus says casually, and James' eyes light up in excitement.

James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”

"Does Sirius even know?" You interrupt, catching James's eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.

James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”

You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.

Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.

If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.

Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.

"Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me." Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.

Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, "You okay?"

Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.

“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.

"What'd you do?"

Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.

"Lily and I were talking today," James sighs, "and she wouldn't stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it's not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her."

"She thinks I'm in love with you?" You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius' face at James' words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.

James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.

"You told Lily that Y/n's my girl?" Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.

"I panicked, and that's what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you're madly in love, that would be great!" James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You're prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.

But then Sirius shrugs, "Sure, shouldn't be too hard, right, sweet girl?" He says, and your legs feel like jelly.

You're floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.

You’re delusional. You truly are.

"Sure, that shouldn't be too bad." You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today." James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.

"We've switched spots, is that not enough for you?" You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you're panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.

You're usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.

"I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him." Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.

Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

"I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act." You insist.

"Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?" James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.

"The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.

You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn't pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.

"I'm still waiting on the PDA." Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.

You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius' side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, "Oi, back off, mate." Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.

James watches as Sirius's cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can't help but grin at the two of you.

"We're not going to be all over each other." You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.

"Why not?" James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”

“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He's entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.

"Listen, we can do whatever you're comfortable with. If you don't want to kiss, then we don't have to," Sirius tells you gently, "but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate."

The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there's a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?

Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.

"You're right," You nod. “Let's just start off slow. It will be weird if we're all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?" James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.

Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?

You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James's words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.

“Y/n, get your man in check.’ James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.

"Good morning." Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she's debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.

James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.

"Y'ready for this?" Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily's conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.

You're so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.

You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.

It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. "I think so. We're newly dating, so don't go overboard with it." You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.

You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”

His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”

“Good morning, Lily.” Peter's gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.

Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that's your spot. But when you notice James's pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn't even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he's so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.

You and Sirius aren't acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.

“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”

"Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?" Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.

Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew."

You're at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.

"Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her." Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.

You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius' words, their eyes darting between you and him.

“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.

"Sirius, I can't believe you thought that she—" Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.

"Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don't y' think?" James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.

Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius' direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily's interrupted comment.

Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, "Don't even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He's sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.

"Who is she?" You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.

"I'm going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know.." He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.

A laugh escapes you, "I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret."

"Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?" James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.

"All my deepest darkest secrets." You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.

“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he's genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.

James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn't confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.

“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James's expression breaks into a satisfied grin.

The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.

After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it's probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.

You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He's momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It's a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." You tell him softly, "But I promise we'll talk more tomorrow."

“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.

“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you've left the room.

Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.

"Why the hell did you get a hug?" Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.

“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he's put on the spot.

Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, "What were you guys talking about over there?"

Remus interjects with a teasing tone, "Careful, Pads. You sound jealous." A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius' furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.

“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”

James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.

"You're jealous because you have feelings for her." James states matter-of-factly.

Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, "’Haven't gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.

James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.

“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.

“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.

“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.

Sirius sighs heavily.

The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius' affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.

Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.

You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven't made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn't a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.

Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.

“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he's played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you've found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.

For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.

Sirius' laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”

It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius' girl, you wanted it more than before.

Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, "Yeah, I really do."

Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You've never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you're doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?

The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, "What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?"

Lily's expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”

It feels like you've been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily's words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.

“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.

“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.

You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”

Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn't truly mind it.

As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily's words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn't he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?

Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he's shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.

“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.

The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you all day.

He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What, sweet girl?”

"Get off!" You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.

“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he's sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you're settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.

Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn't hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.

Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.

You're gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.

Despite Remus' attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.

He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.

“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it's due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus' direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.

The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.

You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It's been a while since you've felt so at ease.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James' persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he'd be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn't help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.

“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn't thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.

You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily's proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius' girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.

After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius' arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.

“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.

"It's not that, and you know it." You respond, frustration evident in your tone.

Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, "You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other."

You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.

But Remus persists, his gaze steady, "You should consider telling him how you feel."

You scoff. "Absolutely not."

"Why not? What have you got to lose?"

You meet his gaze, incredulous, "Our friendship, for starters."

Remus shakes his head, "Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried."

You meet Remus's gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, "Okay, maybe he wouldn't end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead."

Remus offers a small smile, "Or it could go well. You could end up together."

You remain silent, the weight of Remus's words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.

But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn't entirely out of reach.

Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. "Do you want a drink?" He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, "Yes, please." You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you're left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.

“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.

"Hey, Max." You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.

"I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you." Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.

You're surprised by his remark, "You have?" You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.

"Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you." Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.

"I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help." You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.

He regains some confidence and continues, "Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?"

Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily‘s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.

You can't bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don't really want to, anyway.

"That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius." You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.

Max looks taken aback, "Sirius Black?"

"Yes." You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.

Max shakes his head, looking confused, "I didn’t know Sirius-"

"You didn’t know what, Townsend?" Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. "Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink."

You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn't looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she's mine.

Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”

“And why were you talking about that?”

“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”

Sirius' entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”

He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.

A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.

But then the reality hits him: you're not off limits. You're perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.

“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”

"Max, it's okay. Really." You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.

“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable

“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He's never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.

You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn't, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You're flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.

You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”

“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”

“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn't wait to taste.

“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”

You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter's inquiry about your destination and James' response that you won't be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.

You're so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don't even notice the sound at first.

The muffled noise filtering through the boys' dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don't quite fit the pattern of someone who's just sick.

You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.

You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”

Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.

Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.

“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.

“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.

"Sirius," You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you've caught on. "I just heard you." You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.

“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius's unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”

“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.

He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.

As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius's intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.

“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”

You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”

Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.

As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.

He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He's murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.

“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius's gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.

He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.

Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.

His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment's hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.

Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.

Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.

He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.

“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.

He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you're gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.

He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.

A gasp escapes your lips as you're overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”

Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can't help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn't be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.

“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don't bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.

“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you'll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.

Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.

Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.

"Please don't stop." You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.

You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn't compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it's not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.

Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.

“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.

As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.

“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You're convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.

With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.

His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.

His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”

You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.

“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.

He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you're immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.

“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.

He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It's as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he's been holding back.

“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”

“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.

“Pictured, tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would've been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you're in, embarrassment takes a backseat.

“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.

“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”

You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.

His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”

A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.

But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.

Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.

“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.

“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It's the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.

“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.

You both remain entwined, lost in each other's embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you're so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.

Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.

“Y’okay, sweet girl?”

“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.

“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajama pants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.

Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.

“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.

“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.

In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other's embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.

"That wasn't just a one-time thing, was it?" You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.

"No," Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. "I want you to be mine, for real this time."

The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I'm all yours."

You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I'm sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?" You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.

James grins, casting you a smug look. "I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”

“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.

James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”

You sigh softly, "That's true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?"

James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.

"You're certifiably insane." You tease, exhaling a laugh.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.

"Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you're napping with Sirius," He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he's fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. "My shoe got tangled in your bra."

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD

"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

Simon goes to bed early that night.

He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.

Learn how to do this. It may save your life.

The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.

It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.

The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"

"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"

"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"

"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.

The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.

You have to be here. He just talked to you.

But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?

He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."

You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.

His heart breaks when he opens the door.

You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.

There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."

You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."

"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.

He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.

Simon shuts the door.

"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."

Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"

"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."

"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."

"Okay."

"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.

He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.

He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.

He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.

"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.

Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.

Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.

He holds you. You hold his baby.

How it was always meant to be.

He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.

"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.

"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.

"What is it?"

"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"

"Of course."

He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.

"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."

You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.

But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.

"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.

"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.

"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.

"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.

"I will. I promise."

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[coffin-bird]

..

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  sharing a bed with them 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

content: pre-relationship bed sharing, flirty/mildly sexual implications

It's truly unfortunate that, while on a mission for the Agency, you have to share a bed with DAZAI — or so you think, at least. He doesn't share the sentiment in the slightest, instead smiling as innocently as possible the moment his gaze falls onto the single bed in the hotel room booked for the night. While he pretends to offer you the bed, he'll guilt-trip you about the couch being way too short for his long legs and about his back already aching until, eventually, you give in and share it with him.

Naturally, he gets into your space more than necessary at night, pretending he's asleep while cuddling close to you, given how, then, you can't cuss him out for wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your neck, breath warm against your throat. It's worse that he knows if you won't get any amount of sleep whatsoever, much too busy with fighting off arousal while he's pressed flush against your back.

“Hm? No, it's alright. I don't mind taking the couch. What kind of man would I be if I let you sleep on there? Still, it's just — it's way too short and hard. Couches this uncomfortable shouldn't exist, really. I doubt I'll be able to get even a wink of sleep tonight, what a shame.”

When there turns out to only be one bed in the hotel room you're supposed to stay in for the night, CHŪYA doesn't even hesitate before offering you the bed, immediately going for the couch instead. He won't accept any protests either; no matter whether you're worried about his comfort or just think it's polite to refuse his offer, he won't allow you to spend the night on a sofa. He's not making a huge deal out of it and, if you keep being annoying about it, he gets more and more exhausted by the minute.

Eventually, he might give in to the idea of sharing the bed. He has no trouble keeping to himself — or so he believes, because, once he's actually asleep, softly snoring into your ear, he's moving wildly, one leg eventually thrown over your body, arms stretched out. If you mention it to him in the morning, his cheeks flush soft pink.

“Hm? The fuck you mean, you'll be taking the sofa? Definitely not. I'm already here — and I don't mind. Go lie down and get some sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”

RANPO, the very moment he steps foot into the room, decides he wants the bed to himself. The idea of taking the couch doesn't even cross his mind; instead, he makes his way over to the bed all too quickly, though, when you end up either glaring at him or asking him to share, he just shrugs.

Really, he doesn't make too big of a deal out of sharing a bed, not even seeming a little nervous at the idea of lying down beside you for hours on end. Meanwhile, at night, he cuddles up close to you — actually asleep, unlike a certain someone —, arms wrapped around you, for once completely unaware of you being all flustered because of him. In the morning, it'll be like nothing happened, even though you can't quite stop thinking about

“What are you looking at me like that for? I said we can share. If you're hoping to have it for yourself, tough luck. I was here first, just saying. Just get in or move to the couch already, I'm tired.”

All of FYODOR'S decisions are based on logic; this one is no exception. If the bed is large enough to fit two people, it's large enough for the two of you to share — though, if you feel like taking the couch instead, he won't protest. That's your decision to make, after all.

While actually sharing the bed with him, it's basically like you're alone in there, anyway. He doesn't move when asleep, doesn't make a sound; it's all too easy to imagine he's not even there, even though, occasionally, a dark strand of hair might brush against your face. What you don't know, however, is that he, at night, while you're fast asleep, he takes the time to watch you up close, lilac eyes tracing over every plane of your face.

“I do not mind sharing the bed with you. I hope you feel similarly. We both are adults, are we not? I doubt this will be an issue. Just lie down.”

NIKOLAI is undoubtedly amused by the idea of sharing a bed with you. He doesn't waste a single thought towards either of you taking the sofa instead; nonsense, just why would you do that? There's a perfectly fine bed right there, and surely both of you are mature enough to share one without any issues, right? Wrong.

He makes a point of being as obnoxious as possible, cuddling close to you the very second you lie down. It doesn't help that he's both tall and strong, his arms closed around your waist so you can't even try to get away or up, and he makes a point of whining whenever you attempt to squirm away. It's going to be a long night.

“What's the matter? Why are you moving so much? Stop it, I won't be able to fall asleep this way. Or — ah, are you trying to rile me up on purpose? That's naughty of you, sweetheart.”

SIGMA immediately makes a beeline for the couch the second he notices the dilemma of having a double bed rather than two separate ones booked. He won't even discuss the topic with you; he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable or forced to sleep on a sofa, so he'll do it instead. There's no whining or guilt tripping from his end; he simply accepts his fate for the night. There's worse things to endure.

If you're incredibly serious about convincing him, however, he might just give in, even though his cheeks feel a little warmer than usual when he lies down next to you, making sure there's an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you. If there's anything he doesn't want, it's you thinking he's trying to be creepy after you've decided to trust him — he probably ends up barely getting any sleep, just because he's worried about accidentally getting too close to you.

“Are you sure you're alright with this? I really don't mind spending the night on the sofa instead. ... Well, if you're sure — thank you.”

NEW POST AGAIN FINALLY AA my commissions are open, by the way!! dm me if interested! 💜

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[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Gentle Touch

Installment 1 of The Catlike Tendencies of Matthew Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt doesn't know how to ask for physical affection.

warnings: none that I can think of!

a/n: long story short this is inspired by my wife’s orange cat. He loves her but only tolerates me most of the time, unless I’m the only one home when he wants attention. However, he doesn’t really know how to cuddle with me since we don’t do it often so he just awkwardly lurks wherever I am until I invite him closer. It happened earlier and I thought it was hilariously Matt-coded so I wrote this. (It’s set in the Of Oak and Ivy verse because I love them, but you don’t need to read that story for this)

w/c: 2.3k

You were absolutely enthralled in the story Foggy was telling when the noise caught you off guard. A small puff of air, sounding almost like a voiceless sigh. Glancing toward Matt who was the closest to you, one look at his stony expression told you it had come from him. He was clearly irritated, despite his face being blank. You’d known him for long enough that you could tell when something was on his mind. 

Maybe he’d heard this story too many times? You leaned more heavily into his arm, which was parallel to yours. 

Turning your attention back to Foggy, you flinched with a laugh as he gestured wildly when concluding his story, spraying beer at you from his mostly full bottle. 

“Geez, Fog. Reaching your limit already?” Matt smirked, his icy exterior fading away as you giggled beside him. 

“He is, he’s all flushed. This is just like that party at the Beta house sophomore year.” You shook your head, looking at Karen with an exasperated expression. “Have they told you the possum story?” 

Smiling gleefully, Karen shook her head. “The possum story?” 

Both Matt and Foggy groaned, protesting and blushing furiously, but Karen was adamant. And who were you to not indulge her?

“In the fall of our second year at Columbia, Matt and Foggy got absolutely plastered on some disgusting concoction of cheap alcohol and Hawaiian Punch,” You began, rolling your eyes as Foggy gagged across from you. 

“God, even the thought of it—“ The blond mime-retched. 

“Yah the smell of Hawaiian Punch still makes me nauseous.” Matt shuddered next to you. 

Karen stifled a giggle as you continued to illustrate just how inebriated you’d found them when you’d come to pick them up. “I was studying and had sat the party out, but offered to drive them home when Fog called me screaming at someone to chug alcohol. I figured they’d both be in no shape to get home.”

“You were correct.” Foggy nodded. 

“I don’t remember anything from that night, but I assume I was the one chugging.” Matt grimaced, laughing sheepishly. 

“So I drove over to the house, somehow got ahold of Matt and managed to convince him to herd Foggy and himself into my car. When they get there, they’re holding this bundle, right? I figured it was dirty clothes or something. But as we were driving home the clothes start hissing.”

“Oh, NO!” Karen cackled, propping herself up on her elbows as she listened to the story. 

“Oh yes. Naturally, I ask Fog what he’s holding and he says ‘my dog’.” 

“We didn’t have a dog,” Matt clarified, looking incredibly guilty. 

“No you did not.” You squeezed his arm, hoping he could hear in your voice that you had no resentment over the incident. “Foggy unwraps the thing a bit and introduces it as ‘Spot’. But instead of a dog,”

“It’s a possum.” Karen finishes for you, nearly in stitches over her coworkers’ mortified faces. 

“An angry one at that. I have no idea where it came from or how they managed to catch it, but there it was.” You shook your head, still amazed at their ability to wrangle the creature while piss-drunk. 

“What happened to it?” Karen asked, and the men erupted. 

“That’s classified.” Foggy stated firmly, lips pressed together. 

“A story for another time,” Matt rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Don’t tell me you killed it!” Karen gasped, whirling to look at the out of them sternly. 

“Of course not! No possums were harmed in the making of this story, just mildly inconvenienced.” You assured her. “They’re just clamming up because they can’t remember whose fault it was that it got loose in the science hall.”

Trailing off into a fit of laughter, Karen was quick to follow you as the two men started arguing, pointing fingers. Sitting back and enjoying the show, you shot Karen knowing glances as Matt and Foggy fought, no real heat behind their words. 

You’d had so much fun that night, reliving one of the funniest moments of your college years, that you’d completely forgotten about the aggravated sound. Until about one month after, when you were sitting next to Matt on a bench in the courthouse. 

The case he and Foggy had been working on was tedious and full of metaphorical landmines that threatened to ruin any shot your client had at escaping her abusive husband. The entire firm had been on edge, struggling to keep everything in order. Given your lack of steady employment at the moment, you’d been helping out wherever you could, and had been working this case from day one, right alongside Matt. Which is how you’d ended up beside him rather than Foggy. 

The blond had flown out of town a few days before to attend an extended family reunion, leaving the rest of you to man the fort, so to speak. Usually, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Matt had been increasingly temperamental leading up to the ex parte hearing. His normal reserved demeanor had rapidly been replaced by a moody, antagonistic version of him–driving poor Karen to her wit’s end. 

After Matt had incited a screaming match over a spilled cup of coffee, you’d told her to take her lunch early, giving her a couple hours where she didn’t need to walk on eggshells. The plan seemed to be working so far, Matt responding with less hostility to your persistent support rather than Karen’s eager suggestions for an aggressive approach. Something about this case had rubbed Matt the wrong way. His invisible hackles were standing on end, posture almost bristling as he sat beside you, twisting a white-knuckled fist around his cane. And, though you understood why Karen was pushing for another solution, you agreed with Matt that this needed to be handled quickly and quietly. 

Scowling at the floor, Matt’s joints rolled beneath the delicate skin of his hands. His jaw was clenched, shoulders curled inward, as if he expected the judge to request a fist fight to grant the protection order. Christ, that could not be comfortable.

Carefully, slow enough to not spook him when he was in this state, you slid the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand. Prying his firm grip off the handle of his cane, you cradled his massive, calloused hand in your lap. He visibly relaxed at the touch, twisting to face you as you traced gentle patterns over his skin, careful to avoid the line of freshly healed cuts on his knuckles. Your curiosity would have to wait for now. There was no way he was in the mood to explain those.

A breathy rumble sounded in his throat, akin to a sigh but less obvious. The same noise he’d made all those days ago at Josie’s–the quiet indication that something wasn’t right. 

Bottom lip jutting out in sympathy, you squeezed his fingers with your own. “It’ll be ok, Matty.” 

He swallowed roughly, hazel eyes darting around behind his red lenses. You could practically see the thoughts forming in his mind before he buried them, the stress forcing him back into bad habits. Sweeping your fingers over his wrist, you studied him, satisfaction thrumming in your chest when his breath hitched. “Hey, talk to me, trouble. What are you thinking?”

“It’s not going to go well.” His voice was pitched low, angry, but there was a brief undercurrent of fear within it. 

“We don’t know that.” You chastised lightly, knowing this pessimistic streak was a coping mechanism and not confirmation he’d become a nihilist. 

“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it? It’s like every officer is laughing at us. We’ve already lost.” Watching Matt, the perpetual optimist, crumble at the thought of things not going the way you’d planned nearly broke your heart. 

“Oh trouble, don’t say that.” Threading your fingers with his, you knocked your knees together. “It’ll be ok. Even if the judge doesn’t grant the order today, we won’t stop trying, right?”

“No but she needs legal protection now. Truthfully, she needs an armed guard.” Matt spoke bitterly.

“We can get her temporary protection.” You suggested.

“They’d never grant that for a simple DV case. Besides, those are his coworkers. Do you really trust them to keep her safe from him?” Matt scoffed, raising a brow at you. 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you jabbed your pinky into the flesh of his palm. “I wasn’t suggesting we go to the police, Matthew. You and I both know how little good that would do.”

Deflating as he realized you weren’t being as naive as he suspected, Matt frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not everyone knows the flaws in the system.” You reassured him. “But I do. To some extent, at least.”

He hummed in agreement, but said nothing. 

“What’s really bothering you?” At your insistent question, Matt’s face flashed with rage, his spine straightening as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but you held fast. “Don’t you dare, trouble. Please, talk to me. It’s eating you away, I can’t sit here and let that happen.” 

Sighing harshly, Matt ran a hand over his face. “I just..this case feels different. I don’t know why. But if we can’t help her…”

“All we can do is try our best.” You reminded him. 

He let out a single humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” 

When you let his hand drop, he made that pitiful, choked noise again. 

“What?” You asked, slightly worried. 

“Nothing. Just tired.” He lied, wrapping his hand back around the handle of his cane.

It was only once you were truly together that you realized what that specific sound was meant to signify. 

Since you’d officially started dating, or rather labeling whatever you two had as a relationship instead of dancing around each other, that stupid noise had cemented itself in your life. It seemed like Matt was making it every damn day and it was driving you up a wall. 

Not because Matt wasn’t entitled to his feelings or to expressing said feelings. But because your brain registered that the sound had a specific meaning, and you could not for the life of you translate it from a mere Matt-ism into a language you actually understood. Every little quirk and charm about Matt inherently made sense to you, they always had. Yet this little growling exhale seemed out of your reach. Not to mention, anytime you tried to ask him what was up, he shut down faster than a computer chip dunked in pool water.

Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, he snarled out that sound, eyes darting towards you and away before you could blink. Brows furrowing, you peered at him over the top edge of your book. A muscle in his cheek twitched, a blaring omen that he was holding himself back from saying something. 

“You ok?” You asked, nose scrunching as Matt brushed off your concern. 

“Yep. Hungry.” He grumbled. 

One word answers. Great start. Really breaking down his walls there, champ. 

“Oh, gotcha. I’ll order something. Have a taste for anything in particular?” Setting your book across your thighs, you opened up a delivery app on your phone. 

“No.” 

“Okay...” You drawled, stifling an eye roll at his grouchiness. “How about that Lebanese place we liked?” 

Receiving nothing but a thumbs up in response, you submit an order before Matt reached another stage of hangriness. 

Once Matt had eaten half of his shawarma, he was more agreeable. Smiling and chuckling sweetly as you read him cheesy snippets of your romance novel. Crawling across the couch until you were seated beside him, you stretched over his lap to snatch a piece of pita bread for your plate of hummus. Matt blew out a breath, tickling your ear as he grunted. Now that you were close, you could hear the shrill, whimpering undertone. Hidden, nearly silent, as if the growl was to compensate for the whine, to conceal it. 

Craning your neck towards him, you planted your free hand on your hip. 

“Alright. Out with it.” 

“Out with what?” Matt gave his best ‘befuddled’ impression, but you saw past his feigned innocence. 

Snorting, you prodded his firm chest. As your finger connected with his solid pec, he whimpered again, this time almost moaning. Something clicked. 

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” You gasped. “You are not making that sound instead of asking to cuddle.” 

Blushing furiously, Matt dipped his head, ashamed–though he made no attempt to deny the allegation.

Laughing incredulously, you tossed your plate aside and settled into Matt’s lap, threading a hand into his hair. “You are a ridiculous man.”

Matt rumbled happily, leaning into the touch until his head landed against your chest. Clutching his face between your palms, you trailed soft touches over his cheeks, around his ears–scratching tenderly down his neck when he practically melted beneath your fingertips.

“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted, all this time…” Shaking your head, you planted a kiss atop his thick hair. “Why suffer in silence?”

“Didn’t want to force you. It’s been different. Since..everything.” 

Snuggling in close, you maneuvered his chin with two fingers, kissing him deeply. His stubble brushed over your skin roughly, making you smile. “You can always always ask, trouble. No need to be a martyr with me.”

“Sorry,” Matt murmured against your lips, chasing your mouth with a mournful noise as you pulled away. 

“Don’t be sorry. Now come here.” Tugging him on top of you, you laughed brightly as he squirmed over you, finally relaxed when his face was tucked against your neck. “That’s it. Better?” 

“Much better.” He whispered, going limp under your touch as your fingers stroked up his back.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @shouldbestudying41

[fioredeciliego]

Hell of a Ride (Wish there was a Car) - Karina x Fem!Reader

Be warned, there is smut 15k words

The jungle was thick with the midday sun, beads of sweat trailing down your neck as you trudged after Jimin. She seemed oddly serene, picking her way through dense vegetation with a kind of breezy confidence that only made you feel more uneasy. Each step away from any familiar landmark left you feeling more lost, yet Jimin seemed entirely unbothered. As she led the way, her hand brushed against a massive fern, sending droplets of morning dew sprinkling through the air.

“Are you really sure this is the right path?” you asked, trying to sound calm but unable to mask the tension in your voice. You’d lost track of how many times you’d already asked, but this time, you hoped she’d finally admit they might be heading in the wrong direction.

Jimin turned and flashed you her signature grin. “Totally sure. It’s just… a scenic route,” she said, her tone a little too carefree.

“A scenic route,” you repeated flatly, your eyes scanning the endless sea of green surrounding you. The air was thick and still, with only the occasional call of a distant bird breaking the silence. “You mean the path where we haven’t seen another soul in hours?”

“Exactly!” She laughed, nudging you with her elbow as if the whole thing was a harmless joke. “You’ll thank me later when we’re out of here with the best story to tell. How many people can say they’ve been ‘lost’ in the jungle? This is the kind of story people want to hear!”

An uncomfortable laugh escaped you, though it was more a reflex than actual amusement. “Lost isn’t exactly the word I’d use. We’re… stranded, Jimin.”

Jimin chuckled, apparently amused by your escalating nerves. “Stranded? That’s such a strong word! We’re just… wandering with a purpose. Besides, we’ve got food, water, even a little signal now and then. We’re fine.”

Frustration bubbled up in your chest, the tension reaching a breaking point. “Jimin, wandering with a purpose only works if you actually have a direction. We’re just walking aimlessly!”

She stopped, finally looking you in the eyes, her smile faltering as she registered the worry in your face. Her voice softened. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Worst case, we’ll just retrace our steps.”

“Retrace our steps? Do you even remember the way we came?” you pressed, crossing your arms as you took in the pathless jungle surrounding you both. “I don’t think ‘back’ is even a possibility anymore.”

Jimin hesitated, glancing over her shoulder with a thoughtful expression, and you could tell she was trying to play it off. But it was painfully clear she hadn’t been paying attention to the way they’d come. She shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, it’s not like we’re out here without resources. We’ve got plenty of daylight, food, and I’ll get us back to where we started.”

You sighed, exasperation lacing your words. “Jimin, this isn’t a movie. We don’t have some magical compass that’s going to lead us to safety. This is real. And it’s dangerous.”

Jimin’s face softened, and for a second, she almost looked apologetic. She took a tentative step closer, reaching out as if she wanted to comfort you. “Hey, I get it. I do. But… maybe this could be a fun experience. Something we’ll laugh about later?” Her eyes sparkled, an optimistic light that seemed wildly out of place in the suffocating jungle.

“A fun experience?” you asked, unable to hide the mix of irritation and worry. “This isn’t a weekend trip to the beach. We’re in the jungle, miles from any kind of help.”

Jimin looked down at her feet, a sheepish expression crossing her face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I wasn’t… thinking it through. But look, we’re here now, and I’ll make sure we get back. Worst case, we’ll head in one direction and keep going until we find a trail.”

“Assuming that actually works,” you muttered, scanning the tangled undergrowth with skepticism. The sheer volume of plants and trees was overwhelming, every corner of the jungle looking like an endless mirror of the last.

Jimin reached out, gently brushing a leaf off your shoulder with a smile. “Hey, at least we’ve got a good view, right?” she joked, gesturing to the towering trees and vibrant green around you. “This isn’t just any regular adventure. It’s, like… a private jungle getaway. Just the two of us.”

“A private jungle getaway?” you repeated, the disbelief clear in your voice. “Are you seriously calling this a romantic outing? We’re lost, Jimin.”

She tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Come on, just go with it! Imagine it’s like… a spontaneous date, complete with the best ambiance nature has to offer. You and me, lost in paradise… don’t you think it’s kind of nice?”

You let out an exasperated huff, though you couldn’t deny the flicker of warmth her words stirred. “I don’t think you get it. This isn’t some fun little escapade, Jimin. We’re actually stuck, and there’s a good chance we won’t get out of here by nightfall.”

She held up her hands defensively, a guilty smile creeping onto her face. “Okay, fair point. Maybe I’m downplaying things a little. But hey, I’ve been camping before. I’ve got some survival skills,” she said, attempting a confident grin.

“Oh, great. So you know how to toast marshmallows? That’ll really save us,” you replied dryly, though her attempt at humor brought a reluctant smile to your face.

Jimin laughed, a genuine sound that cut through the tension for a moment. She reached out and ruffled your hair affectionately, a teasing smile on her lips. “I know, I know. I’ll be serious. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any sign of a trail. Just don’t worry too much. I’ve got you.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked away, the worry still a tight knot in your stomach, but her sincerity softened your anger a little. Jimin’s confidence might be misplaced, but it was hard to stay completely mad at her when she looked so earnest. Maybe she didn’t understand the full weight of the situation, but there was no denying she genuinely cared.

“Fine,” you said, giving in with a reluctant smile. “But no more detours, okay? We’re sticking to whatever you think is the straightest path out of here.”

She gave a little salute, her expression brightening. “Yes, ma’am. No more detours.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide a small smile as you followed her through the undergrowth, her confident strides taking her forward with a purpose you weren’t sure she actually had. Her energy was reassuring, even if misplaced.

--

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the jungle, transforming the trees into towering green pillars and the undergrowth into a vibrant tapestry. You and Jimin finally emerged into a small clearing, a brief break in the dense foliage that gave you both a moment to breathe. Though neither of you would admit it, you were both hoping it meant you were finally headed in the right direction.

Jimin, of course, was still trying to appear as confident as ever, even though you’d caught her glancing over her shoulder more than a few times as if she were second-guessing herself. She wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead, hands on her hips as she surveyed the area. “Alright,” she declared, as if she’d just led you on a great expedition, “I think we’re back on track.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. “You think we’re back on track?”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure,” Jimin replied, shrugging. She flashed you a lopsided grin, her confidence radiating even though it seemed clear she was mostly guessing. “Besides, you don’t see anyone else here with a map, right?”

“Yeah, because we don’t have a map,” you pointed out, unable to keep a small laugh from slipping out. Jimin’s misplaced confidence was somehow endearing, even though you still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

Ignoring your tone, Jimin gestured forward with a flourish, as if presenting a path only she could see. “Look, I know it seems like we’re lost, but trust me. We’re not,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

You glanced around the clearing, squinting into the dense underbrush, trying to find any indication of where you’d come from. “Okay, well, if you’re so sure, let’s try heading back the way we came, alright?”

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “Easy! Just follow me.”

But as she took a confident step forward, her boot caught on an exposed root hidden beneath a layer of leaves. With a startled yelp, Jimin stumbled forward, reaching out instinctively for balance. Unfortunately, you happened to be right in her path, and before you could even react, she grabbed onto your arm, pulling you down with her.

You both hit the ground with a soft thud, leaves crunching beneath you. Jimin landed partially on top of you, her weight pinning you down for a moment. A shocked silence hung between you both as you registered the tangle of limbs, your faces just inches apart. She blinked, eyes wide with embarrassment, her cheeks flushing as she quickly scrambled off of you.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry!” she sputtered, cheeks flushed as she tried to brush the dirt off herself. “Are you okay?”

You groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you brushed a few stray leaves from your hair. “I think I’m fine. But maybe let’s leave the dramatic falls to the action movies, yeah?”

Jimin let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “Guess I got a little overzealous there. Sorry for, you know, tackling you.”

Despite the dirt and the sting of impact, you found yourself laughing, the sound surprising both of you. Jimin looked at you, wide-eyed and slightly taken aback.

“Wait, are you… laughing at me?” she asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

You shook your head, but the laughter only bubbled up more. “No, no, I’m just laughing at… the situation. Here we are, ‘retracing our steps,’ only to end up face-first in the dirt. It’s… fitting, somehow.”

Jimin’s lips curled into a reluctant smile, and soon she was laughing too, her soft giggles filling the clearing. “Alright, alright. So maybe I’m not the best at leading us through the jungle. But look, I’m keeping things interesting, aren’t I?”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, still smiling as you pushed yourself up and brushed the dirt from your clothes. “I mean, there’s never a dull moment with you around.”

She grinned, giving you a mock salute. “Glad to be of service. Now, let’s try this again… maybe without the acrobatics this time.”

Standing side by side in the clearing, you both took a moment to reassess your situation. Jimin straightened her shoulders, attempting to take on a serious, determined expression as she glanced around, as if searching for any sign of the way forward.

“So,” she began, looking around with a touch of genuine uncertainty, “since we’re clearly both experts in navigation, why don’t we try to divide up what we’re carrying? If we’re going to find our way back, we should at least make sure we’re both prepared for anything.”

You nodded, grateful for the small bit of planning. “Good idea. Let’s take stock of what we’ve got.” Together, you emptied out the few supplies you had between the two of you: a half-full water bottle, a granola bar, a small flashlight with a barely-charged battery, and a few other random items neither of you had expected to need in the middle of a jungle.

Jimin eyed the meager supplies, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “So, you carry the flashlight and water, and I’ll hold onto the snacks. That way, if we get tired, I can give you a pep talk with food,” she joked, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes but handed her the granola bar, trying not to let your growing worry show too much. “Just don’t eat it all yourself. We might need it if we’re still out here for a while.”

Her smile softened as she looked over at you, her expression unexpectedly gentle. “Hey, don’t worry too much. I promise I’ll get us out of here, okay? I might be a little clumsy, but I don’t give up easily.”

Something in her tone reassured you, a quiet conviction that made you feel a bit more grounded. You gave her a nod, tucking the flashlight into your bag. “Alright. Then lead the way, oh fearless one. Just… watch out for those roots this time.”

She chuckled, giving you a playful nudge as she started forward again, her gaze more focused as she scanned the ground in front of her. And as you followed her deeper into the jungle, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to lead you both out of there—without too many more bruises along the way.

--

The sky shifted from bright blue to soft hues of pink and orange, signaling the day’s end as you and Jimin continued trudging through the dense jungle. Despite her determination, both of you knew that walking aimlessly in the dark wouldn’t get you anywhere. Finally, you spotted a small, open area nestled between a few large trees.

“I think we should stop here,” you suggested, setting down your bag and glancing up at the streaks of fading sunlight poking through the canopy. “It’s going to be pitch-black soon, and we’ll just end up tripping over ourselves in the dark.”

Jimin glanced around, hands on her hips, then nodded. “Good call. I mean, it’s only one night, right?” She shot you a quick, slightly nervous grin as she looked around, already beginning to gather sticks and leaves in a valiant attempt to make a shelter.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her struggle with the basics of shelter-building, her clumsiness getting in the way. She tried stacking some larger sticks against a low-hanging tree branch, but they slid down almost immediately, leaving her standing in a defeated, tangled mess of branches and vines.

“Need a hand?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Jimin’s face turned slightly red, though she managed a lopsided grin. “What, you don’t think I know how to set up camp?”

You chuckled softly, reaching out to steady one of the sticks she was holding. “I’m just saying, if we leave it up to you, we might end up sleeping under a pile of leaves.”

Jimin laughed, scratching the back of her head as she stepped back, letting you take the lead. “Fine, fine. I’ll let the expert take over… for now.”

You started rearranging the sticks, weaving them together to make a sturdier frame. As you worked, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you, watching intently, as if she were genuinely impressed by your makeshift construction skills. When you looked up, you found her staring at you with a small smile, her expression softer than usual. Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the structure.

Jimin cleared her throat, taking a step closer as she bent down to help. “So… any camping trips in your past that I should know about?”

You shrugged, placing a handful of palm leaves on the frame to create a sort of roof. “My family used to go camping a lot when I was younger. I guess I picked up a few things along the way.”

“Ah, see, you’re full of surprises,” she said with a grin, carefully placing leaves beside yours. Her fingers brushed yours for a split second as she worked, sending a strange but pleasant jolt through you.

The sun dipped lower, and you continued working side by side, occasionally bumping elbows or reaching for the same spot, only to pull back with shy smiles. Eventually, you’d pieced together a small but sturdy shelter, just big enough to fit you both and keep the wind out.

Jimin stepped back to admire your work, her eyes shining with genuine pride. “Not bad! I guess we make a pretty good team.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you looked at her, noting the way her face lit up despite the dimming light around you. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

She settled down inside the shelter, patting the spot next to her with a playful grin. “Come on, don’t be shy! Your construction, your prime seat.”

Rolling your eyes, you crawled in beside her, grateful for the shelter you’d built together. With the last bit of daylight slipping away, an unfamiliar yet comfortable quiet fell over the two of you. The jungle sounds became more pronounced as night fell—crickets chirped, and the occasional rustle of leaves hinted at the hidden creatures nearby. You hugged your knees to your chest, glancing over at Jimin, who sat with her legs stretched out, leaning against the shelter frame with a relaxed smile on her face.

For a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world, the isolation of the jungle bringing a rare kind of intimacy. You turned to her, breaking the silence. “Do you think anyone’s noticed we’re gone?”

Jimin shrugged, glancing up at the now star-speckled sky. “Probably… though I doubt they’re panicking yet. They’ll figure out we’re missing by morning, I bet.”

“Guess that means we’re stuck here for the night, then,” you murmured, a touch of worry in your voice.

Jimin must have sensed your unease because she gave you a reassuring smile, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s kind of like an adventure, right? Just think of it as… our own little jungle getaway.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Right. The ideal vacation spot: stranded in the jungle with no food or water.”

She laughed softly, nudging you. “Well, maybe not ideal, but… hey, at least we’ve got each other.” Her eyes met yours, the soft light in them making your breath hitch for a moment.

You managed a small smile, leaning back against the frame of the shelter. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

A comfortable silence settled over you once more, broken only by the symphony of nighttime sounds. You felt Jimin’s shoulder brush against yours as she shifted slightly, leaning in closer as if to share warmth in the cool night air. Her presence, though often clumsy and exasperating, was undeniably comforting in this strange, lonely place.

After a while, she spoke up, her voice softer than usual. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever spent a night like this before. It’s… kind of nice.”

You glanced over at her, surprised by the sincerity in her tone. “Yeah? Even though we’re, you know, lost?”

She laughed quietly. “Yeah. Maybe it’s the whole survival thing, but I feel… I don’t know, alive. Like, really alive.”

You found yourself smiling at her words, understanding what she meant. There was something oddly exhilarating about the danger, the rawness of the situation you were in. And though you wouldn’t admit it, you were grateful for her company.

As you both settled into silence once more, your eyelids grew heavy, the sounds of the jungle lulling you into a surprisingly peaceful state. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, you heard Jimin mumble softly, almost to herself, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep us safe.”

--

The night air in the jungle quickly grew colder as the sky darkened, the warmth of the day fading into the cool embrace of the evening. You huddled closer to the shelter, pulling your jacket tighter around you, but the chill still seeped into your bones. You could feel the air turning brisker, the jungle’s nocturnal hum growing louder in contrast to the stillness that had settled between you and Jimin.

Jimin shifted next to you, clearly uncomfortable, her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced over at you, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she attempted to break the tension.

“So, uh, is this… how you imagined our first night alone together?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with a nervous undertone. She gave a slight shrug as she shuffled closer, her eyes catching the moonlight, making her look almost ethereal. “I mean, I gotta say, this isn’t quite the cozy, romantic campfire I was picturing, but… maybe I’m just doing it wrong.”

You shot her a look, suppressing a grin at her antics. "Definitely not the romantic getaway I had in mind," you said dryly, though the teasing tone in your voice didn’t quite mask the warmth you were beginning to feel. It wasn’t just from the campfire; it was from being in such close quarters with her.

Jimin shifted again, now sitting much closer to you, though you hadn’t moved at all. She glanced over at you, her eyes softening for a moment before she broke the silence with another joke. “You cold?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because if you’re cold, I mean, you could always snuggle up to me. I’m pretty good at staying warm… you know, since I’m basically a walking heater.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her flirtatious remark, but something inside you stirred at her words. It was so casual, so effortless, yet you could feel the shift in the air around you. The closeness, the playful teasing—it made your heart race in a way you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though the words felt hollow as the chill gnawed at you once more. You pulled your legs up to your chest, trying to stay warm, but you couldn’t deny the sudden longing for her proximity, for her warmth.

Jimin noticed the small shiver that ran through you, and her teasing smile softened. “You sure? I can’t let my teammate freeze, you know. You’re kind of important.” She gently nudged your shoulder with hers, a little more sincerely now.

You let out a quiet, half-laugh. “I’m not going to freeze. I’ve been through worse.”

Jimin’s smile remained, but there was an underlying concern in her eyes. “Still, it’s not just about surviving, it’s about being comfortable, too.” Her voice dropped slightly, and you could hear the sincerity in it, which made your heart flutter a little.

She hesitated for a moment before sliding closer, her body warmth becoming more apparent as she sat beside you, a little closer than before. She tugged her jacket tighter around herself, but it was clear it wasn’t enough to keep her warm either. Her eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something unspoken in them.

“Come on, don’t make me beg for it,” she teased, her voice light again as she nudged you more insistently. “I’m just offering my body heat, not a lifetime commitment. Though, if you’re into that…” She waggled her eyebrows dramatically, and you couldn’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“Jimin, you’re impossible,” you muttered, though you didn’t push her away. Instead, you found yourself unconsciously leaning into her, the warmth she offered starting to feel too tempting to resist.

“See? I knew you were secretly into it,” she teased softly, though her voice was warmer now, less cocky. She wrapped her arm around you, pulling you close in a comfortable embrace, the kind of closeness that felt both natural and slightly awkward at the same time.

You froze at first, a little startled by how easy it felt to just… fall into her. But then the warmth from her body enveloped you, and you sighed in relief, your tense shoulders loosening. The cold from before seemed to melt away, replaced by the undeniable warmth of her embrace.

Jimin leaned her head lightly against yours, her breath warm against your ear. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”

You couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips, even as you tried to act nonchalant about the entire thing. “I guess not,” you muttered. You didn’t want to admit how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to her, especially with everything that had happened earlier. You weren’t sure why the touch of her skin against yours sent a flutter through your chest, but you weren’t ready to acknowledge it just yet.

There was another beat of silence between you two as you both just sat there, the only sound coming from the distant jungle creatures and your shared breaths. You felt Jimin’s hand slip just a little lower down your back, her fingers brushing against your waist, and your heart skipped.

She pulled away slightly, her voice soft but playful, a teasing edge still lingering. “Are you comfortable now? Or do I need to get even closer?” Her grin was mischievous, but you could tell she was still testing the waters, gauging how much you were willing to let her in.

Your face warmed at the suggestiveness in her voice, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you found yourself leaning in closer, your head resting against her shoulder. “This is fine,” you said softly, though you could feel your heartbeat quicken.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to break the tension, even though part of you didn’t want to. “You really like to joke around, don’t you?”

Jimin grinned, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I have to make the best out of our romantic jungle getaway, right? Just trying to keep the mood light.” She tilted her head, her voice taking on a more sincere note. “But seriously, I’ll keep you warm. I don’t mind.”

Something in her words—soft, but unspoken—made your heart race. You looked up at her then, her expression unreadable for a second before she nudged you with her shoulder, her grin returning. You couldn’t help but smile back, your feelings all tangled up in this strange, overwhelming mixture of warmth, laughter, and unexpected connection.

--

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the thick canopy above, you stirred awake, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The morning was calm, with the soft hum of the jungle waking up around you. Jimin was already up, fiddling with the last of your shared provisions to make some semblance of breakfast. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, her hands fumbling slightly as she tried to tear open a package of granola bars.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she greeted with a smirk as you sat up, blinking in the dawn light. “Just in time to join me for this… Michelin-star breakfast I’ve whipped up.” She raised an eyebrow, brandishing a half-crushed granola bar with mock grandeur.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Ah, yes. The classic ‘lost in the jungle with no real food’ breakfast. How gourmet of you.”

She grinned, delighted to have coaxed a laugh out of you. “Hey, I’ll have you know that in some cultures, this counts as a romantic adventure date,” she quipped, her voice light but with a mischievous edge.

You froze mid-reach for a water bottle, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry—adventure date?” You couldn’t help but scoff, though the corners of your mouth threatened to lift. “Are you seriously calling this a date?”

Jimin shrugged, her eyes sparkling as she looked at you. “Well, I mean, think about it: secluded location, scenic views, lots of quality alone time…” She raised her hands, gesturing at the sprawling jungle around you. “Besides, you don’t seem to be hating it as much as you let on.” She shot you a grin, clearly enjoying every second of teasing you.

You bit back a smile, trying to look as exasperated as possible. “Jimin, I think I’d prefer a less ‘lost and starving in the wilderness’ kind of date,” you said, though your tone was soft.

Jimin leaned in, nudging you with her shoulder. “Aw, come on. Think of the memories we’re making! Just imagine the stories we’ll have to tell… if we make it out, of course,” she added with a laugh.

You gave her a sidelong glance, but her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself. “Fine, but next time I get to choose the date spot. Preferably somewhere with less… potential for starving,” you replied, only half-joking.

Jimin put her hand to her chest in mock offense. “Noted! Though, I don’t know, you’ve been a pretty good sport about it all. You’re even smiling at my jokes now.” She leaned in a little closer, her tone dropping as she added, “See? I knew you’d come around to liking me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the warmth that crept up your cheeks. “I wouldn’t get too cocky just yet,” you muttered, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

She looked at you, something playful but genuine in her gaze. “Admit it—you’re having a little bit of fun,” she teased, tilting her head to try and catch your eye. “I know you can’t resist my charms forever.”

You shook your head, trying to hold back your grin. “Jimin, I’m just doing my best to survive out here with you. Let’s not read too much into it.”

But as you both started packing up to continue your trek, Jimin kept up her playful banter, her flirtation escalating in small, unexpected ways. Every so often, as you made your way through the thick jungle underbrush, she’d lean over, whispering dramatic “observations” about your surroundings as though narrating a romantic survival film.

“Oh, look over there,” she whispered in a hushed, faux-dramatic tone as she pointed to a patch of sunlight filtering through the leaves. “Nature has provided us with mood lighting for our romantic hike. It’s practically begging us to lean into the ‘lost lovers’ vibe.”

You gave her a disbelieving look, stifling a laugh. “You really know how to spin a narrative, don’t you?”

She flashed you a grin, proud of herself. “Hey, one of us has to lighten the mood. And, by the way, you’re welcome.” She glanced over, her eyes warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but feel your defenses soften around her.

The path became a little trickier, with tangled roots and slick patches of mud, and Jimin offered you her hand to steady yourself more times than you’d care to admit. Each time, her hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, and each time, you felt your resolve weaken just a little bit more.

“Jimin, I can handle myself, you know,” you protested lightly the fifth or sixth time she reached out to you, though you took her hand anyway. Her grip was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the damp chill that surrounded you.

“Sure, sure,” she said breezily, giving you a wink. “But where’s the fun in that? Besides,” she added, her voice dropping a little, “I like helping you. It’s nice to feel… needed.”

Her words caught you off guard, and you glanced over at her, but her expression was soft and sincere. For a moment, the playful mask had dropped, and you saw something else there—something that made your heart skip.

“Well,” you said softly, unsure of how to respond but unable to look away, “thanks, I guess.”

She shrugged, her smile returning as she released your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze. “Anytime. It’s what co-workers… and adventure dates… are for.”

You gave her an exasperated look, but this time, you didn’t bother hiding your smile. “I’m sure this is the most unconventional adventure date of all time.”

Jimin just laughed, her voice ringing out through the quiet jungle, her happiness infectious. As you both continued onward, her flirtations and teasing became a little bolder, a little more natural, as if she were testing the waters between you with each lighthearted quip.

--

The two of you had been walking for what felt like hours, cutting through thick vines and maneuvering over gnarled roots, Jimin’s lighthearted banter punctuating the stillness of the jungle. Despite the challenging terrain, the growing camaraderie between you made the journey less daunting, even fun. But then, as you stepped around a massive tree trunk, everything changed in an instant.

Jimin froze beside you, her arm instinctively reaching out to block your path. You followed her gaze, feeling your heart drop as you spotted a snake in the clearing ahead, coiled and motionless at first. Its thick, scaled body gleamed in the filtered sunlight, but its head was raised, alert—and pointed directly at you.

“Don’t move,” Jimin whispered, her voice low and tense, as if any sound could set it off.

“Jimin…” you breathed, feeling a chill run down your spine. The snake’s body tensed, its gaze fixed on both of you, and you instinctively took a small step back. The movement seemed to trigger it. In a flash, it uncoiled, darting forward with terrifying speed.

“Y/N, stay back!” Jimin yelled, reacting on instinct. Without a second thought, she grabbed you and spun you behind her, shielding you with her own body as she faced the snake, her stance defensive.

The snake reared up, striking out, and Jimin quickly grabbed a nearby branch to hold it back. You watched, wide-eyed and breathless, as she waved the branch, creating enough space to maneuver backward with you. Her gaze stayed fixed on the snake as it hissed and snapped, still pressing toward you both, its anger evident.

“Just… keep moving, slow and steady,” she whispered, her voice tight as she pushed you back. “We don’t want to make it angrier.”

You obeyed, retreating step by step, but your heart raced wildly. Despite the danger, the way Jimin stayed protectively between you and the snake left you speechless, your nerves twisting into a strange blend of fear and… something else. Her hand never left your arm, holding you close even as she guided you both away.

Just as you thought you were out of reach, Jimin stumbled over a stray root, her grip on the branch slipping. The snake lunged forward, its body a flash of movement, and you instinctively grabbed her, steadying her before it could strike. Heart pounding, she managed to pull you both further back, the distance finally enough to make the snake give up its chase. It hissed once more before slithering off into the underbrush.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands still clutching Jimin’s arm as your eyes met hers. For a few seconds, neither of you said a word, the intensity of the moment leaving you both frozen in place.

“Are… are you okay?” she asked softly, her own breathing heavy as she took you in, concern etched on her face.

“Am I okay?” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping as you felt a strange warmth flood your cheeks. “You’re the one who just took on a snake!”

Jimin chuckled, her shoulders relaxing as she slowly lowered the branch and dropped it to the ground. “Guess I just couldn’t let anything happen to my favorite jungle explorer,” she quipped, her tone trying to lighten the mood, though her gaze stayed focused, her eyes scanning your face as if to make sure you were truly unharmed.

You exhaled, still holding onto her arm as the reality of what had just happened settled in. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, squeezing your hand. “But I wanted to. Besides,” she added, trying to play it cool, “I couldn’t let you go running off without me, right?”

Her words sparked something inside you, and the reality of her protectiveness, her quick instinct to shield you, left you speechless. “Jimin…” you whispered, not quite sure how to express what you were feeling. Your gratitude, your surprise, the slight flutter in your chest—it was all tangled up.

Jimin’s expression softened as she took a small step closer, her hand lifting to brush a stray leaf from your shoulder. “You look really flustered,” she said with a teasing smirk, trying to ease the tension with humor, but her voice held an unmistakable warmth. “Was it the snake, or was it me?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh slipping out. “Just... I wasn’t expecting my trip partner to go full survival mode on me,” you muttered, your gaze dropping to the ground as you tried to process the overwhelming moment.

She tilted her head, a soft chuckle escaping. “Guess I surprised you, huh?” she whispered, her fingers tracing an absentminded pattern along your arm, her touch grounding you.

“You did,” you admitted, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “Thank you, though. Seriously.”

Her gaze softened further, her thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for a moment, it was as if the two of you were in your own little world, the jungle fading into the background. “Anytime,” she murmured, giving you a playful smile. “Now, come on. Let’s try not to make any more angry friends out here, yeah?”

And with that, she took your hand in hers, leading you onward, her grip steady and reassuring as you walked deeper into the jungle.

--

You and Jimin finally find a small stream after hours of trudging through dense foliage. The soft trickle of water over rocks is a relief, and you both settle down on a smooth boulder near the bank, grateful for the brief reprieve.

You take off your shoes and dip your feet into the cool water, sighing as the chill soothes the soreness from walking. Jimin follows suit, gingerly lowering her feet beside yours. The two of you sit in companionable silence for a moment, just listening to the sounds of the forest and the gentle stream.

“Honestly… I didn’t expect the jungle to be this intense,” Jimin says with a small laugh, breaking the quiet. “Or for us to end up lost like this.”

You smile, the tension of the day beginning to ease. “Maybe next time, we leave the navigating to someone who doesn’t have a talent for getting us into trouble.”

She grins, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair point. Though, I don’t know, it makes things interesting, don’t you think?”

“Interesting, maybe,” you reply, glancing at her with a small smile. “But it’s not exactly the ideal place to get lost.”

Jimin chuckles softly, but there’s a momentary flicker in her gaze as she looks away, her fingers lightly trailing over the water’s surface. The joking air between you both fades a little, and she seems to fall quiet, a pensive look crossing her face. She dips her head, absently tracing small circles in the water.

You give her a sidelong glance, sensing something she isn’t saying. “Hey, you okay?”

She hesitates, then smiles, but it’s a quieter smile than usual, lacking its usual spark. “I’m fine, yeah. Just thinking, I guess. You know… I joke around a lot, but it’s probably annoying sometimes, huh?”

The comment catches you off guard. You shake your head. “No, it’s not annoying. You’ve actually been keeping things… less terrible. Besides, that’s just who you are, right?”

“I guess.” She pauses, her fingers trailing over the rock beside her. “It’s funny, though. It’s like… if I didn’t make people laugh, they wouldn’t even notice I was there. And sometimes… I wonder if that’s all people see.”

Her voice drops, a vulnerability in her words that you’d never heard before. She’s looking down, her fingers absently playing with the edge of her shirt, and for once, the usual spark in her eyes has dimmed.

You hesitate, wanting to say the right thing. “Jimin, I know you’re funny and lighthearted, but I think that’s only one part of you. You’re… a lot more than that.”

She looks up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. You can be… thoughtful, too,” you say, glancing at her with a small smile. “You’re protective, like with that snake earlier. And you’re just… real. You’re not just hiding behind some persona.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and she smiles, a shy, almost relieved look crossing her face. “I guess I’ve just never thought of it like that,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping again.

There’s a quiet moment between you as she lets those words linger in the air. Something in your chest aches for her, for this hidden vulnerability she usually covers up so well. You reach over, your hand brushing hers, a comforting squeeze to let her know she’s not alone.

“I… care about both sides of you, Jimin. The funny, playful side, and the thoughtful side, too,” you say softly. “You don’t have to hide anything.”

Jimin turns to you, her expression unreadable for a moment, but then her eyes soften, a teasing glint appearing once again. “So, you do care about me after all, huh?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but a smile sneaks onto your face as you do. “Well, maybe a little bit,” you admit, your tone light, though there’s a warmth in your words that’s unmistakable.

Jimin grins, her confidence returning in that familiar, infectious way. “I knew it. Knew you’d come around eventually.”

You shake your head, amused but undeniably touched by the way she’s trusting you enough to let her guard down. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

She laughs, the sound echoing over the stream, but there’s a softness in her gaze as she looks at you, a gratitude that needs no words.

--

The steady flow of the stream had guided you both along as the day stretched on, the warm sun hanging in the sky. After hours of trekking through the dense jungle, you and Jimin stumbled upon a small, secluded cave hidden behind a waterfall. The perfect spot to rest for a while.

Jimin, ever the optimist, was quick to suggest a little fun, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What do you say we jump into the waterfall, clothes and all?" she asked, grinning at you. You raised an eyebrow, skeptical at first, but the heat of the jungle and the lure of the cool water soon won you over.

You both stripped off your outer layers and leapt into the waterfall, laughing as the cold water hit your skin, splashing around in the flow of the rushing water. It was a strange freedom, something raw and invigorating, and for a few moments, you forgot about being lost in the jungle. But all too soon, the playful atmosphere shifted when you noticed the darkening sky.

"Uh-oh," Jimin said, squinting upwards. "That doesn't look good."

The rain began as a light drizzle, but it quickly turned into a downpour. Cold water, mixed with the chill of the air, hit your skin like little needles, and you both scrambled out of the waterfall, soaked to the bone. You rushed to the cave you’d spotted earlier, dripping wet as you sought refuge from the increasingly heavy rain.

Inside the cave, Jimin let out a loud, exaggerated groan as she shook her hair, spraying droplets everywhere. “Well, this is fun. I don’t think we planned for a jungle rainstorm.”

You glanced back at her, your teeth chattering. The temperature had dropped significantly, and it was clear you both needed to find a way to warm up. You quickly scanned the cave. “At least we’re out of the rain now,” you said. “Let’s get a fire going.”

Jimin nodded eagerly, and while you went about gathering some leaves and kindling for a makeshift bed and warmth, she started fiddling with a pile of sticks, trying to get a fire started. You both worked together in silence, each of you grateful for the brief respite. The rain continued to pound against the cave’s entrance, but you were safe for the moment.

As Jimin finally managed to start a fire, the warmth from the crackling flames began to feel like a blessing against the chill of the rain. You huddled near the fire, your clothes drenched and your body still shivering.

Jimin, clearly cold but still determined to keep up her playful attitude, shot you a mischievous grin. "So, what now? Should we just sit here and freeze, or...?"

You gave her a dry look. "I don’t know, Jimin. What do you suggest?"

Her grin widened, and she quickly looked around the cave. "Well, you mentioned getting warm earlier, right?" She raised an eyebrow at you, a glint of humor in her eyes. "How about we take off these wet clothes, let them dry by the fire, and maybe... cuddle to keep each other warm?"

Your breath hitched at her words, a mixture of surprise and something else fluttering in your chest. She was joking, right?

But Jimin, ever confident, started tugging at the hem of her shirt as if it was the most casual thing in the world. You blinked, flustered, unsure of what to do. "Wait—what are you doing?" you asked, voice coming out a little higher than you intended.

Jimin paused and glanced at you, confusion crossing her features. "What? You said we should get warm." She shrugged, unfazed, and continued to pull her wet shirt over her head. "Might as well make it efficient, right?"

Your eyes widened. "But... I—" You quickly averted your gaze, suddenly embarrassed. You hadn't expected her to take your suggestion so seriously. Still, as you glanced back, you couldn't help but notice how her well-defined back muscles flexed as she stripped off her shirt, leaving her in just her soaked pants.

Your heart was racing. You felt your cheeks flush as you awkwardly looked around the cave, trying to avoid looking directly at her. "Are you—uh—sure about this?" you asked, unsure of what was happening.

Jimin, now only in her underwear, was looking at you with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Come on, you’re acting like this is something weird," she teased, her voice light and flirtatious. "We’re stranded in the jungle, remember? Might as well make the most of it."

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous this situation was, but then again, you had to admit that you were both soaked and freezing. And... well... the idea of getting warm didn't seem all that terrible.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for the hem of your own wet shirt, deciding to go along with it. As you pulled it over your head and joined her in your underwear, you could feel your face burning hotter.

When you were both down to your underwear, Jimin laid down next to the makeshift bed you had put together with the leaves. The warmth of the fire cast a soft glow over the cave, making everything feel more intimate.

"Come on," Jimin said softly, patting the space next to her. "It's more comfortable here. Let’s just rest for a bit, yeah?"

You stared at her for a moment, trying to keep your composure, but there was something in her gaze that made your heart flutter. The silence between you felt charged, the space around you suddenly too small.

You slowly lowered yourself next to her, lying on your side, your eyes never leaving hers. The tension in the air was thick, the distance between you both a mere inch or two.

Jimin’s hand reached over to gently touch your waist, her fingertips grazing your skin. You inhaled sharply at the contact, a shiver running through you, though not from the cold. Her touch was warm, and it sent a jolt of heat through your body.

Without thinking, your hand moved to her cheek, brushing a loose strand of wet hair behind her ear. Her breath caught slightly at the soft gesture, and the closeness between you grew undeniable.

"Hi," she whispered softly, her voice barely more than a breath. You couldn't help but smile, your heart racing.

"Hi," you whispered back, your voice trembling just a little.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other, neither of you daring to move. But then, Jimin’s hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you even closer. Your hand instinctively found its way to the side of her face, your fingers lightly tracing her jaw.

And then, without a word, your lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss. The feeling of her lips against yours, warm and tender, made everything else disappear. The fire crackled behind you, but in this small, cozy cave, with the rain still pouring outside, all that mattered was the shared breath and the connection between you.

It was slow at first, a testing kiss, but the warmth between you grew with each passing second. You could feel her hand gently pressing at your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and the tension that had been building for so long finally began to unravel.

She pushed you into your back, getting on top of you, her hands gripped your waist tighter, while yours moved from her cheeks to grip her hair, tugging it as you moaned into her mouth. She took the opportunity and slipped her tongue, rubbing it against yours.

Jimin pulled away, breathing heavily as she looked into your eyes. “Is this ok?” She panted. You nodded, pulling her back into a bruising kiss. Her hands moved down to your thighs, making your legs wrap around her waist, and moved her head down, leaving open, wet kisses on your neck and collarbones. She reached up, making you arch your back so that she could unfasten your bra, and you did the same as well. With one hand, she played with one of your breasts, while she took the other into her mouth, sucking and biting your nipple.

You whined, arching your back again and pulling her even closer to you. Jimin’s other hand moved downwards once more, playing with the strap of your panties. She looked up at you with hooded eyes, asking for permission. You whimpered and nodded, making her move your panties down. She kissed down the valley of your breasts and stomach, stopping at your chore.

Jimin breathed in and moaned. “You smell so good.” She whispered, and gave your clit a quick swipe with her tongue, making you let out a loud moan, with one hand you gripped her hair, while the other grabbed at whatever you could find in the ground.

Without wasting more time, Jimin dived in, eating you out as if you were her last meal. Her tongue moved in and out of your pussy while simultaneously sucking on your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Jimin!” You screamed out, feeling in cloud nine. She hummed into your core, making you shudder with pleasure. Your moans sounded louder and louder each time, but when Jimin shoved in two fingers, you let out a gasp turned moan. She was good. Too good.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Jimin.” You whimpered out, feeling your orgasm building up. She pulled away for a second, still having two fingers inside you while her thumb circled the 8 figure on your clit.

“Come for me, baby. Show me how good you feel.” She encouraged. Your back arched once more, letting out a pornographic moan as you felt the tightening on your stomach snap, and you came.

You only saw white for a minute, trying to calm down your breathing, twitching from time to time as Jimin cleaned you up with her tongue.

Jimin sat up on her legs for a second, looking at you. She thought you looked beautiful like that. Your eyes that were half closed in euphoria, your chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath, your body in a thin sheet of sweat, that glistened with the light of the fire. You looked stunning in her eyes.

After seeing that you had managed to catch your breath, Jimin grabbed one of your legs, putting it up on her shoulder, she slotted the other between hers, both your clits touching. Both of you moaned at the feeling, and she started to grind against you. The feeling of your cores together made you let out the loudest moan again.

“Hmm, does that feel good?” Jimin teased, a smirk on her face as she looked you in the eyes. You nodded, blushing as you put a hand over your eyes. She had an intense look in her eyes making you shy. “Come on now, darling. Don’t hide that beautiful face from me.” She cooed, her hand that wasn’t gripping your ankle moved to grab your wrist. “Be a good girl for me and keep those eyes open, ok?”

You were sure that the moan you let out shook all the animals outside from how loud it was. You looked at her, the way her well defined abdomen flexed everytime she thrusted forwards, how her eyebrows furrowed with concentration, how hot the small grunts that left her lips were. God.

“I’m-I’m coming again, Jimin.” You managed to whine out, but she shook her head in disagreement.

“Wait for me, my love. Let’s come together.” She panted out, grinding against you even faster. You nodded and your eyes closed in concentration, trying not to come just by the nickname. “I’m so close, baby, so so close.”

You sobbed in pleasure, not knowing how much longer you could hold on to. “Please, Jimin. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Come baby, come for me.” She moaned, and grinded even harder. With a last moan, you let go, Jimin close behind you. Your mind was in a haze, you couldn’t even think. Jimin rode both of you out of your orgasms. Once you whined from sensitivity, she let go of you leg gently and looked down at the mess.

With her two middle fingers, she reached down and cooped up some of your mixed juices, putting them in her mouth while looking you in the eyes. She let out a moan at the taste. “Stick your tongue out.” She demanded.

Once you did, she leaned down and took it into her mouth, sucking it. You moaned at the lingering taste of both your cums combined. Once she pulled away she kissed your forehead. 

“Tired?” She asked you, her hand running through your messy hair. You nodded, feeling your eyelids get heavier at the feeling. “Ok, let’s sleep.”

The sound of rain falling and thunder lulled both of you to sleep, with your head on her chest and her arms around your waist in a protective manner.

--

The morning after the storm was damp and heavy, the jungle floor slick with mud and puddles, making every step feel like a chore. You and Jimin trudged along the barely-there path, both of you weary from the days spent navigating this unyielding wilderness, definitely not from last night. For a while, the only sounds were the soft squelch of mud beneath your shoes and the distant calls of unseen birds echoing through the trees.

Jimin, as always, was beside you, humming to herself, seemingly unfazed by the worsening situation. It was beginning to wear on you—the endless walking, the uncertainty of your location, the dampness of your clothes clinging to you—and the fact that despite your efforts, you still had no idea how to get out of the jungle. The sun was sinking lower, casting an orange glow across the trees, and there was no sign of civilization in sight.

"Ugh," you muttered under your breath, pushing your hair out of your face in frustration. "This is ridiculous."

Jimin shot you a playful glance. "What’s up? Did the jungle get to you?" she teased, stepping over a fallen branch as though it were nothing.

"It's not funny, Jimin," you snapped, your temper fraying at the edges. "We’ve been walking for hours and have no clue where we are. You keep getting distracted and we’re still nowhere closer to finding a way out!"

Her smile faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered, trying to lighten the mood. "Come on, it’s like Jumanji. If we make it to the top and scream ‘Jumanji,’ I’m sure we’ll be out of here in no time!" she joked, her voice light.

You stared at her, exasperated. "This isn’t a joke, Jimin. This is real. We’re lost. We don’t have food. It’s starting to get dark. And you—" You paused, your frustration taking over. "You keep acting like everything’s fine when it’s not."

The air between you thickened. Jimin didn’t respond immediately, her eyes flicking away from yours. You knew she was trying to deflect the tension, but it wasn’t working. She had always been like this—clumsy, absent-minded, carefree, but in moments like these, it just seemed like she wasn’t taking things seriously enough. The pressure of being stuck here, in this place that felt so endless and uncertain, was wearing you thin.

For a moment, Jimin remained quiet, and the teasing, playful energy around her slowly faded. You didn’t know why it felt like such a weight, but it did. Then, Jimin’s voice broke the silence, softer than usual.

"I’m sorry," she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "I know you’re frustrated. I’ve just been trying to make it fun, y’know? But... I guess I’ve been making it worse."

You looked at her, surprised by the shift in her attitude. There was no usual wink, no teasing smile, just a genuine sadness in her eyes.

She met your gaze, her expression unreadable. "I didn’t mean to make it harder for you. I know you’re trying to stay calm and figure things out. I’m... I’m sorry."

Your chest tightened, the anger you’d felt slipping away as quickly as it had come. You took a deep breath, realizing that, maybe, you were just as much to blame for the tension between you two. You hadn’t meant to snap at her like that. She was trying, in her own way, and it had been a long, exhausting day for both of you.

You sighed, your gaze softening. "No, Jimin, it’s not just you," you admitted. "I’m just... really frustrated. And scared, honestly. I don’t want to be lost here forever. I’m just... worried, okay?"

Jimin stayed quiet for a long time, her eyes searching your face. The tension in the air seemed to melt, replaced by something softer, something vulnerable. She gently nudged your arm with her shoulder, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"You know, if I had to be stuck with anyone in the jungle, I’m glad it’s you," you said, your voice quieter, more sincere. "I might be mad at the situation, but... I’m glad it’s you here with me."

Her eyes widened slightly, then softened with warmth. "I’m glad it’s you too," she murmured, her voice small but genuine.

You hesitated, then spoke again, a little more quietly this time. "I was... worried last night didn’t mean anything to you," she confessed, her voice a little shaky. "I was just so scared of—well, you know, how things could change after that."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your cheeks heated up. You hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not like this. You had your own fears, your own doubts. You thought she might have been joking, but hearing her voice crack like that made everything feel too real, too vulnerable.

"I don’t think you’re stupid for thinking that," you said softly, glancing down at your feet. "It did mean something to me. A lot, actually."

Jimin’s eyes searched your face, as if looking for any hint of truth. When she didn’t find any signs of you lying, she relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted. You could see her visibly exhale, the tension that had been in her body fading.

"I just—" You felt a lump form in your throat. "I’m just scared of not being found, you know? Not knowing if we’ll ever get out of here... It’s overwhelming."

Jimin’s gaze softened, her lips curling into a small smile. "I get it. I’m scared too. But hey," she said, nudging your shoulder with hers again, "we’re together. And I’m not leaving you."

You met her eyes, the sincerity in them reaching deep into your chest. "Thanks, Jimin," you murmured, feeling your heart swell with something more than just gratitude.

She smiled again, a little more teasing now, but the warmth in her eyes was unmistakable. "Of course," she said, "I’m your jungle guide, remember?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and you grabbed her hand, interlocking fingers. Both of you walked onward, a little closer, a little more at peace with the chaos around you.

--

As dusk fell, the jungle’s colors softened, bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. Jimin crouched beside a small, flickering fire, carefully arranging a modest “feast” she’d put together from whatever she’d managed to gather that day. She’d scoured nearby bushes for a handful of berries, found a few edible roots, and portioned out the last bits of snacks left from their supply. Despite the meager offerings, she presented them with a proud little smile.

You sat nearby, watching her in silence, and noticed the nervous flicker in her gaze when she glanced your way. She was clearly trying her best, and for a moment, the effort she’d gone to melted away some of your lingering frustrations from the day.

“Alright,” she announced, brushing her hands off and setting her makeshift ‘spread’ in front of you, “it’s not exactly a gourmet meal, but I’d say it’s a fitting peace offering. What do you think?”

You couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at your lips. The gesture was sweet, in the end. “I think it’s… perfect,” you said with a chuckle, letting a bit of warmth slip into your tone. “As far as jungle dining goes, you really went all out.”

Jimin sat down across from you, her expression softening. “I know I’m not the easiest to be around sometimes,” she admitted, scratching the back of her head, “and I definitely didn’t make things easier by getting us lost out here. So… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for real.”

You met her gaze, and something about the sincerity in her eyes stirred something in you—a tug of warmth, a release of the tension that had been building between you both.

“Jimin… thank you,” you murmured, looking down at the ‘feast’ she’d prepared. “Honestly, even though you can drive me up a wall… I’m glad you’re here. I’m not sure I’d be handling all this as well on my own.”

Her face lit up at your words, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I knew it,” she said with a playful glint in her eye. “You like having me around, admit it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Fine,” you said, pretending to be reluctant. “Maybe you’re not completely unbearable.”

She chuckled, reaching over to brush a stray piece of hair from your face, her fingers lingering against your cheek just a second longer than necessary. Her smile softened.

The silence stretched, comfortable yet charged. You could feel her gaze locked onto you, tracing the gentle lines of your face, and your breath hitched slightly as her hand slowly dropped from your cheek. She leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours, and you found yourself drawn closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the warmth of her breath.

Under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the trees, her lips met yours, gentle at first. You leaned in, your hands coming up to rest on her shoulders, pulling her just a bit closer. She responded, her lips pressing more firmly against yours as the kiss deepened, the world around you melting into the quiet hum of the night.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still inches apart, you found yourself smiling, cheeks flushed. Jimin’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her playful expression gone, replaced by something tender.

“Well…” she whispered, breathless and smiling. “Guess it’s official—you’re stuck with me.”

--

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the makeshift camp as night settled in. You and Jimin sat close to the flames, the night air cool but comfortable. The silence between you was soft, contemplative, as if both of you sensed there was more to say but weren’t sure where to begin.

Jimin leaned back, stretching her legs toward the fire, her shoulder brushing against yours. She let out a deep sigh and glanced over at you, her expression thoughtful. “You know… there aren’t many people I’d want to be stuck with out here,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But I think… I’m pretty lucky it’s you.”

You felt your cheeks warm as she looked at you, her gaze steady and sincere. “Really?” you murmured, tilting your head as you studied her face. “I thought I was the one lucky to be stuck with you.”

Jimin chuckled, shaking her head. “I know I joke around a lot, and I know I’m kind of… well, clumsy and all over the place. It’s hard to be serious about stuff. But with you… I feel like I don’t have to pretend to be anything else. I can just be… me.”

Her words settled around you, stirring something warm in your chest. “I get that,” you admitted softly, surprised at how natural it felt to open up to her. “I think I’ve always been so focused on keeping it together, on being the responsible one… I sometimes forget to let my guard down.” You looked down, feeling a little exposed but relieved to finally voice what you’d held back.

Jimin nodded, a sympathetic look crossing her face. She reached out, brushing her fingers gently over the back of your hand. Her touch was light, but it sent a soft shiver down your spine, a reminder of how much closer you both had become over the past few days. “Then maybe we’re both learning how to be ourselves a little better,” she murmured. “Together.”

Without thinking, you slid your hand over hers, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. Jimin looked down at your hand covering hers, a small smile spreading across her face. “Guess we make a pretty good team, huh?” she said, leaning into you a little.

You nodded, your voice quiet but sure. “Yeah… we do.”

The conversation drifted on, each of you sharing small pieces of yourselves, moments and memories that you hadn’t told anyone else. The firelight flickered, illuminating the soft expressions on both your faces, the shared laughter, and the subtle way Jimin’s hand remained in yours, never breaking contact.

As the night grew late and the fire burned low, Jimin let out a small yawn, stretching her arms overhead before lying back on the ground beside you. She looked up at you, patting the spot next to her, and you lay down as well, feeling her warmth radiate beside you as the cool night air settled in.

Without a word, Jimin draped her arm over you, pulling you close as you shifted into her embrace. Her fingers brushed softly over your back, a soothing rhythm that matched the steady beat of her heart against yours. “This okay?” she whispered, her voice soft.

You nodded, leaning your forehead against her shoulder. “Yeah,” you murmured, your own arm slipping around her waist. “This is perfect.”

Jimin’s fingers traced lazy circles along your back as you lay together, her touch warm and comforting. The night sounds of the jungle surrounded you both, but for the first time since you’d arrived, you felt completely safe, anchored by her presence. The quiet grew deeper, words fading away as you settled into the warmth of her embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

For a moment, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and you felt her arms tighten around you, as if she were trying to keep you close even in sleep. A small smile tugged at your lips as you relaxed into her touch, letting the sense of comfort and understanding wash over you.

And in that moment, there was no fear, no frustration—only the steady warmth of her arms around you as sleep gently pulled you both into its embrace.

--

The sun was barely filtering through the dense canopy as you and Jimin carefully trekked deeper into the jungle, pushing past vines and thick vegetation that seemed to cling to every step. After the peaceful closeness of last night, the silence between you was comfortable, each of you sharing the occasional smile as you moved along. But as the hours stretched on, an uneasy feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach. It was quieter than usual, the normal jungle sounds muffled, and every shadow seemed to stretch just a little longer than before.

You slowed down, glancing nervously over at Jimin, who seemed oblivious as she hummed a tune under her breath, her usual upbeat self. “Do you hear that?” you whispered, stopping in your tracks. Jimin halted beside you, looking around as she tilted her head. “Hear what?”

But before you could answer, a low, growling sound rumbled from somewhere close by. You both froze, every muscle tensing as the growl echoed through the dense trees. Slowly, you turned toward the direction of the sound, and there, partially hidden in the shadows, was a large, sleek figure—a wild cat, its intense eyes fixed right on the two of you.

“Jimin,” you whispered, barely able to breathe. She instinctively moved in front of you, her arm stretched protectively, her body suddenly rigid with tension. “Stay behind me,” she murmured, never taking her eyes off the wildcat.

Without warning, the animal lunged. Your stomach dropped as you both scrambled to dodge it, stumbling backward. “Run!” Jimin yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling you along the jungle path as you both broke into a desperate sprint. You could hear the wildcat’s low growls and snapping branches behind you, its chase relentless as it closed in, and a surge of pure terror shot through you.

Jimin kept a tight hold on your hand, leading you down a narrow path through the trees. But in her haste, she tripped over a root, sending you both sprawling forward. You hit the ground hard, leaves and dirt scraping against your skin as you fought to stand, the wildcat’s growls now terrifyingly close. Just as you struggled up, you felt its claws brush past your leg, inches from grabbing hold. Heart pounding, you staggered back, feeling yourself shake from the close call.

In a surge of determination, Jimin grabbed a large branch off the ground and turned to face the animal, her eyes fierce despite the fear evident in them. “Come on, you overgrown housecat!” she shouted, her voice wavering slightly. She swung the branch as the wildcat lunged again, managing to hit it hard across the side. The animal yelped in pain and backed off, momentarily stunned but still watching you both with menacing eyes.

With a quick glance back at you, Jimin picked up a fist-sized rock and threw it with all her strength, catching the wildcat square on the nose. The animal growled and hissed, finally retreating into the shadows, its eyes glinting as it slinked back into the dense jungle.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, both breathing hard as you processed what just happened. Your body was shaking, your hands scraped and sore, but the sight of Jimin, fiercely protective and standing between you and the wildcat, grounded you.

“Are you okay?” she asked, turning to you, her eyes softening in concern as she took in your frightened expression and the small cuts on your arms and legs.

You managed a shaky nod, trying to keep the trembling in your voice under control. “I—I think so,” you said, exhaling deeply. “But that was too close.”

Jimin’s shoulders dropped in relief, her face breaking into a small, reassuring smile as she reached over, gently brushing a stray leaf out of your hair. “Good… I thought I was going to lose you back there,” she admitted softly, her tone far more serious than usual.

“I thought I was a goner,” you replied, half-laughing as the tension finally started to ease. “And here I was thinking you’d be the one I’d need to protect.”

Jimin chuckled, her gaze warm as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Guess I just couldn’t let anything happen to my favorite jungle companion,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Annoying as I am, I like having you around.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I don’t know how to say this,” you began, your tone half-teasing, “but I’m actually… impressed.”

“Is that so?” she smirked, her playful demeanor returning as she leaned in close, her eyes searching yours. “Then let’s call it even—today, you get to be the damsel in distress, and I’ll be your knight in shining armor.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You were clumsy the entire way, and yet here we are. So maybe I do need you around after all.”

Jimin’s expression softened, and she brushed her fingers across your cheek. “Well, good, because I’m not planning on going anywhere without you.”

--

The jungle was surprisingly quiet that night, the hum of insects and occasional rustle of leaves blending into a gentle symphony that seemed to wrap you and Jimin in its embrace. The fire crackled low between you, casting soft shadows over her face as you both settled into a rare moment of calm after the chaos of the past few days. You glanced at Jimin, who was lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the flames. She looked different in this quiet moment, more grounded, and something in your chest tightened at the sight.

The words lingered on the edge of your mind, hesitant to be spoken, but you found yourself breaking the silence. "Jimin," you began, voice soft but steady. She looked up, her eyes meeting yours, and the warmth in her gaze somehow made you bolder. "I didn’t think I’d be saying this, but... I’ve actually grown to like being around you."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, a slow smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Really now?" she said, her voice soft but playful. She shifted a bit closer, her fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent a small thrill up your spine. “Are you saying I’ve somehow charmed you with all my clumsiness and terrible sense of direction?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming under her amused stare. “I guess that’s one way to put it,” you mumbled, struggling to maintain your composure. “It’s… been nice to have you around, I guess. Even if you almost got us killed a few times.”

She laughed, the sound rich and comforting. “I like having you around too,” she said, her voice softening. Her fingers lingered over yours, almost testing the waters, and then she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And for the record, if I got us lost just so we’d end up on this little adventure together, I think it was worth it.”

You snorted, unable to hide your smile. “Oh, so this was all part of your elaborate plan, was it?”

“Absolutely.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a glint of sincerity in her eyes that caught you off guard. She shifted even closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “So… does that mean I’ve earned a second date after all?”

You felt a jolt run through you at her words, warmth pooling in your stomach as you tried to hold back a smile. “A second date?” you echoed, the words a bit flustered as you met her gaze. “This isn’t exactly what I’d call a first date, Jimin.”

She tilted her head, grinning mischievously. “Well, if it was, then I’d say it was pretty memorable.” Her gaze grew a bit more intense, and she leaned in, her face mere inches from yours. “But if you don’t see it that way, maybe I should’ve taken it slower with you. Didn’t know you were the type to jump right to…” She trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

You felt your cheeks heat up, caught completely off guard by her boldness. “That was… different,” you stammered, struggling to keep your cool under her teasing gaze. “I don’t usually… it’s not…”

Jimin chuckled softly, her hand tightening around yours. “Relax,” she whispered, her tone gentler now. “I’m just messing with you.” She brushed her thumb over your knuckles, her eyes soft as she studied your face. “But, for what it’s worth… I’m glad we ended up here together.”

The vulnerability in her voice made you pause, your heart skipping a beat as you took in the expression on her face—open, genuine, and maybe even a little bit nervous. The same feeling settled in your own chest, the realization that you didn’t just enjoy Jimin’s company; you genuinely liked her, maybe more than you’d admitted to yourself.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in silence, your hands still intertwined. The air felt heavy with unsaid words, the jungle around you somehow amplifying the weight of the moment. Slowly, you leaned forward, your face so close to hers that you could see the faint rise and fall of her breathing.

And then, with a soft, nervous laugh, you whispered, “So… maybe a second date wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Jimin’s eyes sparkled, her smile widening as she brought your hand to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured, her voice filled with warmth

--

The morning light cut through the dense canopy, its warmth a reminder that you had somehow survived yet another night in the wild. Every muscle in your body ached, and a strange, bittersweet quiet hung between you and Jimin as you packed up the small camp. Last night had been a whirlwind of relief, confessions, and laughter—and though you hadn’t said it out loud, part of you dreaded leaving the small, strange world the two of you had created here.

As you pushed forward, both of you moving slower than the past days, Jimin kept glancing back at you. You caught her eye more than once, and each time she’d flash you a small, encouraging smile, the kind that made your heart race no matter how many times you saw it. The silence between you was comfortable, weighted only by the feeling that you were nearing the end of something beautiful and rare.

Just as you were beginning to think the forest would stretch on forever, you heard it. A distant, rhythmic thump. Jimin stopped mid-step, her eyes widening as she turned to you, her face a mixture of disbelief and hope.

"Do you hear that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You strained to listen, feeling the pulse of the sound reverberate through the trees. And then it hit you—a helicopter. A real, tangible reminder that the world beyond the jungle hadn’t forgotten you. Relief flooded your chest, and Jimin let out a breathless laugh, her eyes shining as she grabbed your hand.

“Come on!” she exclaimed, pulling you toward an open clearing she’d spotted nearby.

You stumbled together, tripping over roots and branches in your haste until you both broke free from the tree cover. Together, you waved your arms, shouting and hoping with all your heart that the search team would see you. The helicopter seemed to pause, and then it began circling lower. Jimin’s face broke into a grin, and she tightened her grip on your hand, shaking it slightly as if you were sharing a private celebration.

"We’re going home," she whispered, her voice full of awe and gratitude. But as the sound of the helicopter grew louder, the realization hit you both that this—this strange, shared adventure—was about to become a memory.

Jimin’s smile softened, and her eyes met yours with an intensity that sent a shiver through you. She looked at you like she was memorizing every detail, every freckle, and every line. “Guess this is it,” she murmured, a note of wistfulness in her voice. “Our little jungle getaway is officially over.”

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Yeah… guess we’re going back to reality.” It sounded strange to say it out loud, as if speaking it made the end more real.

She lifted her hand to your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin with a gentleness that made your heart twist. “Reality isn’t so bad, though, is it?” she murmured, a teasing glint breaking through her serious expression. “Besides… I think we still owe each other a real first date. You know, with less mud and maybe a shower?”

You laughed, a small, shaky sound that was half relief, half longing. “Deal,” you said, voice soft but sure. “But no jungle hikes, please.”

Jimin let out a small laugh, her gaze never leaving yours. “No jungle hikes,” she promised, though her smirk suggested that she’d find another way to keep you on your toes. She held onto your hand a moment longer, thumb brushing over your knuckles as if she, too, was reluctant to let go. So she didn’t, she pulled you closer and kissed you hard and deep, full of emotions. She beamed at you once you both pulled away, making you break out in a grin of your own, happy evident in both your eyes.

The helicopter hovered just overhead, its blades kicking up a fierce wind that whipped through the trees and pulled you both back to the present. The rescue crew lowered a ladder, and one of them gestured for you to climb. Jimin gave your hand a final squeeze, releasing you with a soft smile.

“After you,” she said, a hint of playfulness slipping back into her voice, but her eyes were full of something deeper—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Climbing the ladder, you stole a glance down to see her watching you with a wistful smile, her gaze filled with promises. And as she climbed up behind you, the roar of the helicopter above you and the rush of wind around you, you felt a pang of something bittersweet. It was over. No more snakes, no more wildcats, no more berries; for a while at least.

By the time you settled into the helicopter, you were both quiet, letting the weight of everything that had happened sink in. Jimin’s hand found yours again as the helicopter lifted, squeezing it with a gentle reassurance. As the jungle began to shrink below you, you realized that even though you were leaving it behind, the closeness you’d found here wouldn’t fade.

Jimin turned to you as you neared the edge of the jungle, her voice barely audible over the helicopter's hum. "Maybe reality can be our next adventure," she said, her eyes bright with that familiar spark.

--

The fluorescent lights hummed softly above you, the steady buzz filling the otherwise quiet lab as you wrapped up your final tasks of the day. The sterile, clinical atmosphere seemed like a lifetime away from the jungle you’d left behind only a week ago. Your heart still carried the echoes of that wild, exhausting adventure—the adrenaline of survival, the closeness you’d shared with Jimin, and the overwhelming emotions that came with it. It was all so vivid in your mind, impossible to erase, and sometimes, it felt like you could still hear the rustling leaves, feel the humidity on your skin, and even catch a glimpse of Jimin’s teasing smile.

“Hey, got a minute?” Jimin’s voice broke through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. You looked up to find her leaning casually against the doorframe, her usual confidence on display, but with an unmistakable softness in her eyes. She was wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt, but somehow she seemed different—less like the clumsy, adventurous woman you had gotten to know in the jungle, and more like the person who had somehow wormed her way under your skin.

You smiled at the sight of her, your pulse picking up despite your best efforts to remain composed. “Yeah, what’s up?” You didn’t need to ask—it was obvious that she was here for something, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was on her mind. After everything that had happened, things felt... different between the two of you.

Jimin stepped further into the lab, her hands slipping into her pockets as she walked toward you. “I was just thinking…” She trailed off, her gaze flicking to the floor for a moment as she scratched the back of her neck. “You know, we never actually got around to that second date.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Second date?” The idea felt almost surreal, considering everything that had happened. But here she was, standing before you, asking for something as normal as dinner. You tried not to think too much about how quickly your heart began to race.

She nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah. I mean, I know we were kind of busy—what with all the, you know, being stuck in the jungle and running from wildcats—but I figured since we’re back to regular life now, we should give this whole ‘date’ thing another shot. A real one this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her suggestion. “You’re sure you’re not just trying to make up for all the times you almost got us both killed in the jungle?”

Jimin made an exaggerated offended face, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “Hey, that’s unfair. I was—” She paused, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “—a brave and fearless leader. You were the one who didn’t trust me with the map.”

“Trust you? You were reading the map upside down!” you shot back, unable to keep the grin off your face. There was something about her that made it impossible to stay annoyed for long. Even now, when things were back to normal, the memory of her teasing and her warmth still lingered in the air.

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point,” Jimin said, shaking her head with a grin. “But seriously. What do you think? How about that second date? No wild animals, no getting lost—just you and me, a nice dinner, and the chance to actually talk without worrying about survival.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You’d spent so many days feeling frustrated and confused about how close you’d gotten to Jimin, how you felt drawn to her despite the clashing parts of your personalities. But here she was, asking for something real. You couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your stomach as you thought about it.

You leaned back against the desk, trying to appear nonchalant despite the growing warmth in your chest. “You really think dinner’s going to make up for the chaos of the past week?” you teased, but there was a softness to your tone that betrayed how much you appreciated her persistence. Despite all the joking, despite how annoyed you’d gotten at times, there was a part of you that had found solace in her presence. And the more you thought about it, the more you realized how much you wanted to explore this, whatever it was between you.

Jimin’s eyes sparkled. “Well, we don’t have to call it a ‘makeup’ dinner, but yeah… I’d really like to see you outside of that jungle madness. Just us. No distractions. No dangerous animals.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering. “Maybe… just a quiet evening with a little less chaos?”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and despite the playful tone, you could sense the sincerity behind them. Jimin had a way of making everything seem lighthearted, even when it mattered most. It wasn’t that she was just carefree; she had this way of carrying the weight of the world lightly, as though nothing could truly bring her down. And you admired that. But there was also something else there, something deeper, hidden behind that playful façade.

“Okay,” you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended, the simple word feeling like it carried so much more weight than it should. “A second date. I think that sounds… nice.”

Jimin’s eyes lit up in delight, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She seemed genuinely happy, her face breaking into a grin that made your heart skip a beat. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, as if savoring the moment, before her expression softened and she took a step closer.

“So, dinner tomorrow?” she asked, her voice laced with that same playful tone. But this time, there was something more vulnerable about it. Something quieter, more uncertain, as if she wasn’t quite sure what you’d say next.

You nodded, your heart thumping in your chest. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. “Dinner tomorrow. Sounds perfect.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. It felt like there was a new energy between you, an unspoken understanding that things were changing. The jungle was behind you, but the feelings you’d shared in those wild days hadn’t gone away. If anything, they were growing stronger.

Then, without warning, Jimin took a small step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against yours. Her touch was light but steady, her fingers grazing yours in a way that felt so familiar and yet so new. You felt your breath catch in your throat as she looked at you with those soft, dark eyes of hers.

“I didn’t think I’d miss getting lost in the jungle,” she said softly, her gaze never leaving yours. “But I kind of do.”

You felt a laugh bubble up from your chest, but it was soft, a little breathless. “Yeah, it wasn’t so bad after all,” you replied, the words feeling lighter now that the tension had broken. You felt more at ease, more certain about what you wanted.

You didn’t give yourself a chance to second-guess. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, closing the space between you. Her lips were soft, warm against yours, and the kiss was everything you hadn’t known you needed. It was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, unsure of how to move forward. But as you kissed her again, deeper this time, there was a sweetness to it that made everything feel right. The world outside the lab, outside of everything that had happened, faded into the background.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, smiles lingering on your lips.

“So… tomorrow, yeah?” Jimin asked again, her voice soft, almost shy now, as if the kiss had made her feel just as vulnerable as you.

You smiled, a little unsure of yourself but more than ready for whatever this new chapter was going to be. “It’s a date,” you whispered.

a/n: tried a new writing style!

[bubbles-laughs-imagines]

“I never noticed your freckles before, theyre cute.”

With the both of you having lost a bet, you are now stuck together in a tight closet for 10 minutes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader - fluff, really just fluff, getting together, mutual pining, forced proximity, first kiss, for the sake of the prompt you have freckles

『••✎••』

You hated your friends, you hated stupid bets and you hated how close you were to the guy you had a crush on. To say that the supply closet on the third floor of the school building was tiny, was an understatement. Or maybe he was just big, but for god's sake, you did not need to think about this anymore than you already were.

Kuroo and you were awkwardly standing chest to chest, though he really tried to press himself into the wall so that you would have more space. He also kept his hands to himself, clasped together at his front. It wasn't dark in the closet, but the lighting was yellowed and old and you might just feel a migraine forming because of it as well as the smell of cleaning products.

This is not what your friends have been giggling about to you. They were imagining dim and moody lighting and Kuroo making daring advances. You immediately tried to crush their hopes, saying that Kuroo isn't like how they wanted to imagine. He isn't some boundary breaking macho man, which was one of the many things you liked about him. He was soft spoken and nice to you, he did tease you sometimes,yeah, but he never stepped over any line you had drawn. At the same time you did also love how stupidly handsome he was and-

You were ripped from your thoughts when he said “Is this okay for you?”

“Hm? Well… there's not much more space you can offer.” You chuckled lightly. “I also don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

He hummed in response and took it as an invitation to back out of the wall just a little bit and shuffle closer towards you again. You locked gazes.

“And hey, I'm sure the ten minutes are almost over. ”You spoke with a slightly nervous tone, which he noticed. He smirked just a bit at you.

“Nervous?” His voice was deep, and you felt like you might combust. You didn't,say anything, only shook your head in a no as you hoped your cheeks were not heating up. He kept observing you and you just let it happen. He was warm against you, breathing calm and collected. Oh, you didn't know if you would make it out of the closet without your heart stopping. Goodbye world, it's been good, may this-

“I never noticed your freckles before, they're cute.”

Yep. You were dead, dying and leaving this plane. Sputtering wildly, you did your best to thank him for the compliment, your cheeks were adorned by a blush. He grinned and leaned forward a bit. “Even cuter with a blush.”

“O-Okay, thank you, yep! Cool! Haha…” He was really close to your face now, still grinning. You tried to breathe and calm down, it's just the school's volleyball team captain that you've had a long time crush on.

He chuckled at your reactions again and his large hand tried to fan air your way. “Earth to Y/N? You good there?”

“Trying to be…”

Kuroo hummed in response, a gentle glint flashed over his face.

“When you're back on this planet, can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened and a giddy feeling arose in you. Fiddling with your hands, eyes meeting his again, you spoke. “I think I'm back right now.”

Chuckles filled the closet as he gently pressed his lips against yours. You immediately wrapped your hands around his shoulders and he took that as an invitation to pull you closer as well.

Suddenly the closet didnt feel that cramped anymore.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

HELLO HELLO FIRST EVER HAIKYUU IMAGINE POSTED, LETS GO

I hope this isnt trash lmao

This writing belongs to me, but the character and the franchise doesnt!!!

[bubbles2024]

[heestruck]

Come with me, little birdie. ; Sim Jaeyun [TEASER]

synopsis ; God was the only thing that mattered to you. I mean, that and pleasing your parents that have sheltered you from everything the outside world has to offer. So what happens when one day; you’re walking home and you run into one of the most notorious criminals in your small town.

And what happens when he takes a special interest in you?

pairing ; pastors daughter!reader x criminal jake

genre ; smut

warnings ; smut, mdni. manipulation. jake is actually a very bad guy. perhaps some yandere. corruption kink. religious themes. religious symbols mentioned. virgin reader. strangers that fuck. mentions of violence. mentions of crimes both minor and severe. kidnapping kinda? pet names. dominant jake. submissive reader. more warnings to come.

do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact.

wc ; to be determined

release date ; october 14th, 2024

teaser under the cut !

The cool evening air brushed against my skin as I carefully closed my Bible, tucking it into my bag with care. The last few women were filtering out of the church basement, their soft goodbyes and gentle smiles fading into the stillness of the night. I lingered for a moment, my fingers grazing over the worn leather cover, feeling that familiar sense of peace I always got after Bible study. My faith was my constant, my compass, the one thing that never wavered.

With a quiet sigh, I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped onto the street. Normally, my walk home was routine—comforting in its familiarity—but tonight, the usual path was blocked off due to road construction. I stood at the corner for a second, looking at the alternate route, a walkway that lead to an alleyway that was dimly lit and stretching into the shadows. It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…” I whispered to myself, the verse steadying me as I stepped forward. God had brought me this far, and I trusted Him to keep me safe.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag and walked into the alley, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the brick walls. The shadows seemed to cling to the corners, shifting with every step I took, but I wasn’t afraid. I reached for the cross necklace around my neck, the cool metal grounding me, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

Still, a strange unease crept up my spine. The alley seemed longer than it should’ve been, the streetlights at the far end distant, almost unreachable. I quickened my pace, trying to shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching.

I walked faster, my footsteps now the only sound in the narrowing alley, bouncing off the walls in uneven echoes. The dim lights overhead flickered, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to twist and stretch with every step I took. I tightened my grip on my cross necklace, my thumb tracing the engraved lines as I whispered another prayer under my breath. The uneasy feeling in my chest grew, like a knot tightening slowly.

It’s fine, I told myself, repeating it like a mantra. God is with me. I’ll be home in just a few minutes. But no matter how hard I tried to calm myself, the darkness felt too heavy, too still. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shake the creeping sensation that I wasn’t alone.

I glanced behind me. The alley stretched into the shadows, empty as far as I could see. But the feeling wouldn’t go away. My heartbeat quickened, thumping loudly in my ears as I turned back toward the distant streetlights and picked up the pace.

Suddenly, I heard it. Soft at first, almost imperceptible—a faint scuff of shoes against concrete, just behind me. My breath hitched in my throat as I froze mid-step, my heart pounding wildly now. I slowly turned around, scanning the alleyway.

Nothing.

But the silence felt different now. It was too quiet, suffocating. Every instinct in me screamed to run, but my legs refused to move, rooted to the spot by a fear I couldn’t quite explain.

And then, I heard a voice, smooth and dripping with a casual charm that sent a chill through me.

“Well, well, what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

authors note ; eeee another one coming out. I hope you guys like it. don’t forget to comment for the tag list!

[aniimoni]

So why would your lamb have a keloid scar? Genuinely curious :0

OHHHHHH MY GOODNESSS!!!! OK OK 1) THANK YOU FOR ASKINGG and 2) Sorry this is such a late reply, been busy.

Anywho, my lamb has a keloid scar because I think it would just make sense healing wise- but let me elaborate.

CW talk about scarring + some imagery (just drawings)

Keloids are a bunch of extra skin tissue that has formed to close a scar. Don’t ask me the science behind it, I am only speaking from my own experience (wildly enough, I also have a keloid on my neck lol). An axe to the neck wouldn’t be just one quick swipe, so it wouldn’t be a clean cut. To me, it would only make sense that it would take a lot of extra skin tissue to heal a wound like the lamb’s, considering the manner in which it happened.

In my au (named Hearts to Keep btw), the only way that TOWW was able to put the lamb back together was by making their body form that extra tissue on their neck.

When they were first resurrected, it looked a lot more red because still kind of in that “healing process”. They didn’t cover it at first because 1) a lot of fabrics just feel uncomfortable near/on it, and 2) they just didn’t feel like it 🤷‍♂️ This led to a lot of their cult members being taken aback VERY frequently:

More rambling + drawings ⬇️ so i don’t take up ppl’s screens

And more often than not, they would constantly forget the basic courtesy of not touching strangers (again, taken from my experience).

Which, of course, annoyed them very much. This makes them look for solutions, leading them to the conclusion that it would be better to cover it; mainly due to the fact that cultists don’t know what personal space is when it comes to them, yes, but it’s also because it bothers them that it’s so exposed in battle and to fabrics/their wool. Sensory issues basically.

Much to their avail, they can’t find anything that feels even the slightest bit comfortable around that area. And so, they decide to bring up this problem to none other but the one who started it.

He doesn’t really know what they would like for him to do. They both go back and forth, half arguing, half trying to understand eachother. Eventually, it is brought to their attention that ICHOR is very useful and versatile! And what is ichor? The blood of a god. And who is in the room with us right now? A god.

TADAAA!!! Lamb gets their very own little neck cover + their bell! Surprisingly, ichor makes for very good fabric.

Of course, this doesn’t erase all the experiences that come with having a keloid, but it takes unwanted attention/touching away from them.

HOWEVER!!! The keloid also ties to their emotions- in more ways than one- but, maybe that will be for another post 😋

Let me know if there are any more questions, cotl au related or just keloid related. Goodnight, and thank you for coming to my TedTalk 🫶🏼

[whumblr]

A bone to pick

"Just can't help yourself, huh?! Always getting in our way!"

Another punch blew them to the floor of the grimy cell. With their hands cuffed behind their back, Whumpee couldn’t do much more than literally roll with the punches, soften the blows, trying to dodge best they could as Henchman went off, releasing his anger on them.

A kick to the stomach made them curl up. Followed up by a stomp on their ribs.

"Not so tough now, hm?" Henchman hissed, grinding his boot against their ribcage as if he were stomping out a cigarette. "What, nothing to say this time?!"

"What is going on here?"

Pressure on their ribs immediate fell away when the Henchman literally jumped a little and stepped back.

Whumper stood in the cell door opening, casually leaning against the metal frame, arms crossed, taking in the scene.

"Teaching them a lesson, sir." Henchman puffed his chest out, boasting his confidence that he was doing nothing wrong. But his voice sounded awfully fragile, the plea for approval ringing clear.

Whumpee glared up at the man in the doorway. They weren't sure why they were looking for mercy there but at this point he was the only one who could stop this. Even just for some stupid reason like, 'Only I am allowed to touch them'. But of course, there was no reprieve.

"I see," Whumper merely said, cold indifference in his eyes as he looked at the figure writhing on the floor. "Nothing wrong with that."

Henchman deflated. As did Whumpee's small hope.

"Did you break anything?" Whumper asked.

"No, sir!" Henchman quickly defended himself. No, no, wouldn't want your boss to think you'd just broken his new toy...

A disappointed hum. "Do it now."

Whumpee stopped breathing and went completely still, as if they were superglued to the floor. Fear started prickling in their stomach. Their heart pounded against the concrete and spread the uncomfortable, heavy sensation all over their body.

"Sir?" Henchman didn't seem as sure about what was about to happen.

"Pick a bone," Whumper said, slowly, eerily calm and he looked straight in Whumpee's eyes as he continued, "And break it."

Whumpee forced themself to maintain eyecontact, to keep breathing calmly through their nose. But they lost to the panic rising in them as Henchman disappeared behind them. They turned to their side to keep an eye on him, eyes wildly flitting about to Whumper and back.

Henchman stalked around Whumpee and they could practically feel his eyes roaming over their limbs, their body, as he was trying to make his choice. A barely noticeable sly smile crept over his lips and his eyes settled on their upper arm.

No... They kept the word firmly behind clenched teeth. Nothing they'd say would make them stop and they'd be damned if they allowed them to hear them beg! Their jaw set, panicked eyes blazed as they shot Whumper a challenging glare.

"I know what you're thinking," Whumper rumbled, unimpressed by the scene in front of him. "You're not going to scream for me." He gave a light shrug. "You re wrong there."

As Henchman shoved them onto their front and pulled their arms into an uncomfortable angle, they did put up a light struggle, pulling fruitlessly at the cuffs, scooting inches away, but a boot landedly heavily in-between their shoulder blades and kept them pinned.

"Don't move," Whumper growled, "Or I'll pick something to break as well."

A broken whimper did slip free this time and only increased in volume despite their wishes when they saw Henchman raise a leg.

An enormous force came down on their arm. A disgusting snap vibrated through their entire body like a tiny explosion, but the explosion of pain was much bigger.

And Whumper had been right; they couldn't hold their scream back. A broken, stuttering shriek that fizzled to sharp, short outbursts as the pain faded, but kept throbbing.

The handcuffs held their arms back mercilessly, and pulled at the broken bone with every twitch and twist. They squeezed their eyes shut. Felt, to the their horror, a cold prick of wetness in the corner of their eyes and they turned face-down to the floor, hiding it, resting their forehead against the cold floor.

"Good," Whumper gave a nod. "Now leave us," he growled at Henchman, and poked a foot under Whumpee, nudging them over, drawing out another scream. "We still have much more to discuss."

-

General whump taglist O7: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink

@painsandconfusion @auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales

author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!

characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

“SHRIMPY!”

Oh no.

Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.

“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—

“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.

“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”

Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…

“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.

“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”

Uh oh.

“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.

“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”

“Floyd, don’t—”

It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.

“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”

Ah, of course he saw that.

With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.

“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.

“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.

“Floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.

“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.

“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.

“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”

A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.

“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.

“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.

“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”

“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.

“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.

“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.

“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.

Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.

You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…

… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…

You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.

“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”

Hook, line and sinker.

You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.

“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.

“Did something happen, prefect?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”

“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.

“But what, Shrimpy?”

“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”

Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.

“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.

“The truth, prefect?”

“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”

“… I’m allergic to octopus…”

The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter

“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.

“What is going on here?!”

A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.

Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.

“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”

You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.

“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.

You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.

Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.

“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”

Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.

[mangoshorthand]

oh, and it was a guy who decided to tell me that as soon as all my clothes were off

Original request:

I have a really personal request of thats ok w u. my first time having sex i was called ugly and obese, and it still sticks with me nowadays so i shy away from being fully exposed/on top/having the lights on bc im scared they were right and its gonna happen again - so how would 5 deal w this in a partner? if this is too weird 4 u then just ignore

Thanks to @kaybreezy3000 for reading through this before I posted and making me sound less like a wildly-masturbating 19th century nobleman. Note for you at the end, anon.

Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 4k words, Rated E

Five was an observant man: he had to be. If he hadn’t learned to pick up on the details then it's doubtful he could have even made it to adulthood.  

So he noticed that you had quite specific tendencies very early on, back when you were first seeing one another. The first time you had sex, he thought you leaving your clothes on was pretty hot - it seemed as if you were so desperate to have him inside you that you couldn’t delay it even the short time it would take to get undressed - but it quickly became apparent to him that this was something more.

You always seemed to leave as many clothes on as humanly possible, or else turn off the lights before undressing shyly, almost reluctantly, always keeping something clutched around you. 

His first reaction was to feel frustrated, (okay, frustrated and insecure, if you insisted on wheedling that out of him). Were you even into it? 

He loved the sex you had, and you certainly seemed to get something out of it, but all the while you were covering yourself from his lustful gaze like he was a lecherous drunk eyeing you from down an alley. 

He just didn’t understand it. Things were great outside the bedroom: you laughed together, you had intelligent, lively conversations…you even romanced him in a way nothing had taught him to expect. You anticipated his wants, you surprised him with dates and the occasional gift. You made him feel special and wanted in every way except this one way.

And he needed it that way too.

Maybe there was something about sex that brought home to you that he was old enough to be your father. Maybe you saw his hungry gaze as the leer of a dirty, predatory old man...and that thought hurt because it held too much truth.

He finally asked you about it after a session of sex in which you looked distinctly uncomfortable riding him, avoiding his gaze and keeping the bed sheets wrapped around you. 

He brought it up in a way typical to him: blunt antagonism as defense, masking his real insecurities. “Question: why are you with me?”

“Because I like you,” you replied, confused by his tone.

“Sure,” he said, the smallest trace of sarcasm in his voice, “but there’s a problem here, isn’t there?”

You turned to him on the pillow, and you were greeted by his expectant, irritated smile. He raised a brow, clearly prompting you to state this so-called ‘problem’. When you seemed none the wiser, he continued. 

“The problem seems to be that you hate having sex with me.” 

You looked at him, nonplussed.

“No I don’t. Why would you say that?”

He shook his head with the trace of a bitter laugh. 

“So you just hate me looking at you, is that it? You know, nobody’s forcing you to sleep with me. We could just end it if you can’t stand me ogling you.”

You turned away from him, folding your arms across your chest protectively, hugging yourself. You tried not to cry, but tears were already welling in your eyes, threatening to overspill and roll down your face. You could feel him slipping away; sense the rejection coming on the breeze.

At the sound of a sniffle, Five softened slightly 

“Why do you always cover yourself?” he said, finally.

You choked back the tears.

“B-because I’m self-conscious about my body, okay?”

Five sounded incredulous.

“You’re self-conscious about your body?”

You nodded, still not looking at him.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, suddenly irritated again, “You expect me to believe someone who looks like you is self conscious about her body? You’re beautiful, what the hell do you got to be self conscious about?”

His words, though spoken in a tone of irritated disbelief, gave you a warm feeling in your chest. In fact, it was his irritation that assured you of his honesty. That feeling of affirmation brought more tears at first, and it took a few moments to recover.

Five waited for you to begin patiently, able to tell by now that you’d been holding something back, and realizing for the first time that perhaps this wasn’t all about him.

You told him everything.

Your first sexual experience was with somebody who called you ‘ugly’ and ‘obese’ as soon as your clothes were removed. The first man to touch you in that way had used that privilege, not to lift you up and make you feel beautiful, but to tear you down, destroying your confidence in the process. Now, being in full view when having sex was almost unbearable to you, so you avoided Five seeing you completely naked and you avoided being on top as far as you could, lest it break the illusion and he see you for what you really were. 

You stopped occasionally to cry, unable to meet Five’s eyes. It was partially the memories, and partly the fact that you were bearing your soul to him in this way: totally vulnerable. You were giving power to him now; knowledge of how to hurt you worse than almost anything if he chose. 

As he listened, Five’s heavy brows lowered further and further, his lips becoming thinner and thinner, occasionally shaking his head as you unfolded the tale.

“Shit.” he said, after you finished your story, and then fell into silence. After almost a full minute, he spoke in a low, serious tone.

“What was his name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, wiping your eyes.

“What was his name?”

You told him.

“Well he’s a fucking idiot, you know that right? A nasty little…you know where he lives?”

“No.”

“No problem, I can find him.”

“Five-”

“First I’ll pull out his fucking fingernails.”

“Five, no.”

“I’ll kill that cunt slow. Ignorant-”

“Five!” 

Your raised voice finally made him turn his head.

“What good would killing him do?”

He blinked. 

“It would make me feel better,” he said, though the murderous fantasies seemed to be fading from behind his eyes. 

Then, he shook his head, casting the thoughts away like a dog shaking off water. 

“....I  admit that making me feel better is low on our priority list right now.”

He held out his arms to you. When you didn’t immediately enter his embrace, he spoke in a voice so soft, and so caring that you couldn’t deny him. 

“Please, my love.” 

My love?

That was new. 

You leaned up against him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your shoulders, the other around your waist. 

“You don’t have to feel self-conscious or…ashamed around me. You know I would never - you know that I…I worship you, for Chist’s sake. I’m desperate to see all of you. That guy was an ignorant, tasteless bastard. You don’t - surely you know that?”

You nodded uncertainly, another tear running down the side of your nose. 

“I guess,” you said, mouth against his firm pectoral, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, “but I always get scared. Like you might…like one day you might see me and...get grossed out. Because…I know, I know I’m not sexy. I know I’m -”

“You think you aren’t sexy?” he said, speaking as if you’d just claimed that you were an organic cucumber, “are you crazy?” 

He pulled away from you, a hand on each shoulder so he could look you dead in the eye.

“Jesus, you think I’d be ‘grossed out’ if I saw you? I’m not blind, y'know; a bedsheet or a light switch can’t really hide your body from me. You’re so sexy, I can barely think straight sometimes - how in the hell can you not see that? I’d choose you for looks over any girl, every damn time. The other day when you were wearing that tight black dress- god, I pitched a tent big enough to sleep eight.”

And the way he looked down at your silhouette had you almost believing him.

You smiled, nevertheless self conscious of the idea of your black dress being more form-hugging than you’d thought. Five continued, sweeping his hair carelessly out of his eyes. 

“And it’s not just your face or your body, it’s the way you carry yourself. The way your hair falls, your smile, the color of your skin. It’s just attractive. It’s hot. End of story.”

The vehemence in his face made you smile a little more. He looked the way he did when he’d just completed a complex mathematical proof: buzzing with the knowledge of pure, objective truth. From his perspective, he had just conclusively proved an undeniable fact. 

“I know I’m biased because I love you, but anyone would say that you’re beautiful. When you met Klaus, he took me aside and told me I was punching way over my weight. I didn’t even argue-”

But you interrupted him.

“You love me?”

He fell silent abruptly, playing back his last words in his mind.

Yup, he’d definitely said it. 

He swallowed. He was an idiot.

“Well yes. Actually, I do.” 

Before you had time to do anything except gape, he rushed to fill the silence:

“I know it’s not been too long, and I don’t expect you to feel the same-”

“But I do.”

He fell silent again, his eyes on yours. 

They were strange eyes. Their shape and color, although beautiful, were normal enough, but there was a little something in their expression that always took you firmly by the throat. One might fall into those eyes and drown, yet his hand, coming to take yours, tethered you to the water’s edge. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything,” you breathed.

His lips gave a spasm and, for a moment, you both thought he was going to cry too, but instead, he just smiled. He smiled for you a lot, but the clear, open love in this one was like being bathed in warm sunlight, and you luxuriated in it.

Then, he laughed. He giggled, in fact. It bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth before he could temper it into anything that sounded more sophisticated.

“We love each other,” he said, grinning in a dopey, infectious way.

When you smiled back, he cupped your chin gently, those eyes keeping your face upturned to his just as firmly as his hand did. He leaned into you.

At first, his kiss was tender, and your lips slid past and around one another like an embrace. But when he leaned forward, forcing you back onto your pillows, his tongue entered your mouth, and the kiss took on a more amorous character. He made a low noise as he deepened his tongue’s quest into your mouth, and you reciprocated with a soft bite to his lower lip. 

He growled, and heat spread through you as his kiss became rough and firm, pressing you into the pillows now with the weight of his body. All the tenderness had transferred from his lips to his hands, one stroking reassuringly through your hair, and the other at your waist, giving you feather-light, electric touches through the bedsheets.

Your hands came to his subtly muscled back, and cinched him closer to you. The heat was concentrating now, pooling in your lower stomach and swirling there as his unyielding lips let you know that resistance was futile. Your skin was alight with every gentle, loving touch from his fingers, now starting to work their way beneath the bedsheets.

He broke the kiss just long enough to speak. His voice matched the kiss: deep, rough and feral.

“Let me see you.”

Though it was a command, it had the sound of a request, so you took it as such.

Despite the desire now aching in your guts, your fears were still there: perhaps irrational in this situation, but no less real. Beneath the sheets, Five’s hand squeezed and massaged the flesh just above your hip. The touch spoke of his renewed need, but it spoke also of his restraint: his hand had stopped just shy of the area you’d usually hide.

“Please.”

And the word, in that husky voice, broke you. 

“Okay,” you said, arousal threatening to be overcome by nerves, “just…take it slowly.”

He nodded distractedly. His eyes were roaming your skin as he came to kneel between your legs. Both of his hands were now inching the bedsheets down, from your waist to the swell of your hips.

He made a low noise in his throat, and his soft hair fell onto the newly-exposed torso as he bent to kiss it, hot presses of his lips against sensitive skin. His hands skimmed you, feeling out your flesh.

“So beautiful,” he growled, looking up at you, fingers worming their way beneath the sheets again, “is this okay?”

You nodded as he pulled the sheets down another few inches, exposing your stomach to just below the navel. As the air met the newly-exposed skin, you felt gooseflesh prickle across your arms, your stomach tightening with the feeling of exposure. “Pretty girl.” Five cooed, running his hands across your tummy, his pressure gentle, but proprietary. 

With another slow shift of the sheets, and you were exposed to your pubic bone. He let out a breath and squeezed the skin of your hips, smiling at you broadly. It was the dangerous, toothy smile.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to get you over this. I’m going to have to make you realize how fucking hot you are, because I’m going to need to hold onto you just like this while you bounce on my cock. I need to watch these tits bounce while you ride me.”

He squeezed your flank harshly, making you gasp, and you arched your back into him as he leaned forward to take each nipple into his mouth. There was a low rumble in his throat as he first nibbled, and then soothed each tortured bud with his tongue. Your whines tailed off into moans, as arousal and the intensity of his desire once again overcame your fears. 

You felt his satisfied smile around your nipples, and then his hands left your hips to paw and knead your breasts, weighing and bouncing them in each hand. 

He gave you another kiss on the lips before straightening up, so that he was kneeling over you again, head tilted as he looked down on you, almost speculatively. The position made it obvious that he was hard again, his bulge stretching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs, leaning up against his stomach and beginning to put pressure on the elastic of his waistband. His pretty, curved cock was perfectly outlined by the material: 

“I’m going to make you feel so confident that you’ll push me onto the bed, trap me between your thighs and ride me so hard I get a concussion against the headboard.”

Though the idea made you feel another squirm of discomfort, the humor combined with the lust behind his eyes made you give a small smile.

“Not today,” you said, in a small voice.

The memories were still too close…the hurt from recalling them was only just over the horizon. 

“Not today.” he confirmed, eyes roving down to where the bedsheets still covered your sex, “but can I see your pussy, beautiful?”

“Yes.” you said, barely more than a whisper.

“Mm. Good girl,” he groaned, and pulled the bedsheets down to your knees. 

There you were, fully exposed to him…totally bared. Internally, you were fighting between the urge to cover up, and the urge to please him. You still felt exposed, like a turtle without its shell, vulnerable laid out in front of him. 

He was still taking it all in, eyes lingering on where your thighs were as close together as they could be with his body between your calves.

Part of you was still terrified it was coming. Perhaps he wouldn’t be cruel -  he’d probably try to be polite about it - but he was still about to reject you now that he’d finally got a real look. Perhaps it was okay when his imagination could fill in the blanks, but now he’d actually seen you - 

“Oh,” he said.

And in that syllable, all your fears were proved baseless. The sound was a moan of pure, wanton appreciation.

His tongue slid out to wet his lips, still pink and swollen from his hard kisses. His dominant left hand slid immediately into his underwear, and he began to pump himself vigorously. Apparently, he was more than ready for this evening’s second round. 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, speeding his strokes as his eyes roamed your exposed flesh, “you’re so hot.”

As his eyes came to your thighs and pussy again, he increased the frequency of his strokes, fist still out of sight down his underwear. 

“Five,” you said, anxiously, still feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

“Just a few minutes, baby.” he said, desperately, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

Beneath the material, he retracted his foreskin and pressed the head of his cock against the small, wet patch that had appeared there. The pink of his deeply-flushed cock tip was just visible through the fabric, rendered semi-transparent by his precome.

“I’m already leaking.” he said, agony creeping into his rough voice, “Just a few more minutes. Just until I finish.”

His eyes looked hazy, far away somehow, transported to a place where his body’s need ruled him with an iron fist. It was enchanting to behold, impossibly arousing: Five Hargreeves (the man of impeccably starched, pressed and tightly-buttoned dress shirts), was keening in front of you, totally undone with his hips gyrating into his own fist as he visually devoured your body.

“Let me eat you,” he said, begging now, “I want to jack myself off with my head between those thighs.”

And he groaned at the idea, throwing his head back and speeding his pumps.

Your body didn’t give you the opportunity to turn him down. Your pussy throbbed and slick wetness drooled onto your thighs as you looked up at him, all pale skin, latent strength and desperation.

You gave a small nod, and he bent, first to kiss your lips and then to press small pecks onto each thigh.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, “open your legs for me. Show me that pretty pussy.”

And that way, with small kisses progressively further up your thighs, he coaxed your legs wide.

“Good girl,” he crooned, his hand leaving his leaking cock only for the minute it would take to run his index finger up and down your slit. 

You shivered at the contact, too sensitive. He’d already fingered and fucked you to two orgasms tonight, and the feeling of his mouth replacing his finger made you buck immediately. 

“Nngh - Five.”

In response to your moan, he tasted you with a flat tongue. 

Your flavor, a potent honey, made his cock twitch in his hand, and he wrapped his free arm around your leg, drawing you even closer to him. Your soft folds soaked his lips, serving to excite him more.

“Fuck,” he whispered, still in that low growl. His exhale sent warm air dancing across your swollen clit, “you’re so perfect. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You had no time to glow with his praise, because he was sucking your clit too hard for you to do anything but gasp. As his mouth worked you, his tongue moved rapidly inside his mouth, flicking deliberately across your aching, needy nub. His tongue pulsed to the same beat as his hand inside his underwear, unconsciously matching the rhythm of your pleasure to his.

“God, Five!”

All the shame and discomfort was gone, washed away by the tide of swirling heat. The pleasure curled inside you, winding tighter and tighter. All that mattered now was Five’s clever mouth, pushing you inexorably towards another orgasm. 

Your conscious brain let go, and your hand gripped his hair tightly, not aware that you were pulling him even closer to you, forcing his nose into your mound. 

He grunted like a wounded bear, surprise causing his hand to falter around his cock. It was hard to concentrate, so preoccupied was he by the fact that you were taking control, pressing his face deeper into your folds. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever experienced.

Recovering, he gripped himself even tighter, veins and tendons standing out in his left forearm as he worked himself almost violently. 

He was too close now, and it made him clumsy, completely losing the rhythm of his suckles and tonguing. 

“Nooo!” you whined, thighs tightening around his head, “Like before!”

Though lightheaded with the knowledge that your thighs were crushing his ears, (he was wrong earlier, this was definitely the hottest thing he had ever experienced), Five reluctantly let up on his protesting manhood and concentrated his efforts on your pussy. 

Soon, you were gasping and moaning, writhing, and taking him with you with the power of your thighs. 

“F-Five. Fuuuck. Oh fuck, that’s it!” 

Your cunt gushed onto his face as he brought you to orgasm. He groaned again as his chin and cheeks were soaked with sweet slickness. He strained to hear you scream his name, your thighs rendering him deaf as they clutched around his ears. While he couldn’t hear the individual words, he certainly heard enough to flatter his ego. 

Wave after wave of ecstasy was crashing through you, and you babbled meaninglessly: unconnected, incomprehensible syllables. Behind closed eyes, you were seeing stars, completely unaware of everything but the explosion going on in your lower body.

He withdrew, finally, when your thighs relaxed and your climax abated to spasms down your limbs. As you were still catching your breath, he rose to his knees, wiped his sodden mouth, and took himself in hand again, looking at you splayed, completely on display and too drunk on his sex to care.

It took him fewer than ten pumps to bring himself to orgasm. 

“Fucking gorgeous - cunt tastes so good. Mm - fucking perfect, so fucking hot. Oh shit!”

Eyebrows raised, mouth wide in a perfect ‘o’, he exploded into his underwear.

You could see his first shots of come soaking through the material before he was even finished painting their insides with spurts of his thick seed: an impressive load given the fact it was his second in under an hour. 

His throat ground out a low whine as he slowed his hand. 

He took four or five seconds to catch his breath, and in that time your conscious mind took a firmer hold. Though you pulled the bedsheets up and over you, it was more for physical comfort rather than mental. 

Five crawled beneath the sheets beside you, still breathing hard. When he collapsed on the pillow, he turned to you.

“Believe me now?” he asked, “you think I’d wank myself raw over someone I thought was ugly?”

You smiled and let out a small puff of air; a shy little laugh.

He propped himself up on one elbow while his other hand caressed your body beneath the sheets.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, firmly, “To me, you’re a renaissance painting, and I was there when Titian finished Venus and Cupid, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, eyes already heavy, “I’m sorry that I squeezed your head with my legs.”

“You kidding me?” he said, amused, “You could break my neck with your thighs and I’d die happy…what a way to go.”

“Well,” you said, a little discomfort returning, “I still feel bad.”

“Baby steps,” he said, voice as soft as his hand now stroking hair away from your eyes, “soon I’ll have you riding me fast and rough.”

You smiled and let his caresses close your tired eyes. After a few minutes, in which he looked lovingly down at your gentle doze, his voice sounded again.

“Can I at least beat the living shit out of that guy?”

You considered.

“...Maybe.”

NOTE: Dear sweet, anonymous girl, I see you. You did not deserve this, and this was never your problem. These formative experiences really do hurt us, and yours was such an extreme version that I'm not surprised it's given you these insecurities. I can promise you, it does get better. Feminism and loving yourself is at least half the battle, but nothing quite cements the truth like this: One day, you will be naked in front of a guy you trust completely. He'll look at you with that lustful, testosterone-fuelled glower and you'll know without a shadow of a doubt that, to him, you are venus.

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[angelpuns]

Donnie practically pushed Mikey out of the way to get through the door, squeezing past him just in time to see the fading blue of one of Leo's portals. 

He’d barely had time to grab his bo, head still fuzzy from sleep and pajama pants uncomfortably askew from Being woken suddenly. 

Mikey was in a similar state of disarray, his shirt riding up his shell and his eyes wide and glancing around the room wildly. 

They'd both been woken by Leo's shouting, rushing out of bed to help their brother only to find Raph in a Leo-free train car. 

“Raph? What happened? Why was he yelling?” 

As his brain woke up, he was reminded of their mission for the day: reverse Leo's ‘family-forgetting’ curse or whatever it was. 

So it probably had something to do with that. 

“I dunno! I came ta wake him up like he asked me to yesterday and he just- he started shoutin' at me!” Raph turned, holding his hand to a small cut on his arm. It bled sluggishly, and Donnie quickly opened a drawer in Leo's desk that he knew had band-aids. 

“ He musta had a nightmare or somethin’, I tried to help but I think I only made it worse “ Raph worried, letting Donnie slap the band-aid over the cut, “ he didn't seem ta recognize me or know where he was or anythin' “ 

They were silent for a moment, before Mikey piped up. 

“ But he’s never made a portal during a panic attack before….are you sure it was that, I mean-”

“ oh my banana pancakes,” Donnie slapped a hand to his head. His mind had been running through every possible Leo could have ‘woken up and chosen violence’. 

It could have been a nightmare. But the answer was so obviously related to their current curse-relted predicament. 

“ The curse! It’s not- He didn’t just forget us the one time, “ He explained, starting to pace. An uncomfortably hot feeling pooled in his stomach, anxiety bubbling up from there. He shook his hands out in an attempt to dispel the feeling, the lingering worry about Leo now being somewhere totally random making him nauseous. 

“ It's- its like he resets! He must have forgotten again when he went to sleep- like- like he just got reset overnight!” He rambled, grimacing, “ This complicates everything, how’re we gonna get him to cooperate if he wakes up with a different reaction to three strangers every single day!? How are we gonna fix this is if he forgets the curse even exists!?”

Raph stopped him, hands on shoulders. 

“ Donnie, take a breath,” he sighed, and Donnie reluctantly stopped and shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. 

“We can get him back, no problem,” Raph smiled, “ ya still got that tracker in ‘im, right?” 

Donnie blinked. Right, how could he forget? 

“ of course! TO THE LAB!” he whipped around and hurried for the door, trusting they'd follow him. 

“ I'm sure ‘Nardo can fend for himself, he does have his swords,” He noted, if only to make himself feel a little less anxious, “ but I would rather him not be wandering the streets of NYC without half of his memories.” 

He continues to ramble, even as he stepped into his lab and  whipped out his keyboard, quickly pulling up the tracking device coordinates and corresponding map. 

“What if he doesn't come home before night? Will he just forget us again?” Mikey asked, swiping some stuff off of Donnie's desk and taking a seat on the surface.

Mikey suddenly gasped, grinning, " this is just like that one movie! With Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore!"

Donnie grimaced, but he had bigger concerns right now. Even if those were parts to a pretty important project. He opted to ignore that and just think harder about the actual matter at hand. And the plot of 50 First Dates. Just in case it could actually help them somehow.

“ I assume so, yes. And that amnesia-riddled plot is more medically related, so sort of but not really."

"What's more concerning is that he probably won't remember why he's out there, and that will probably introduce more anxiety to the mix,” Donnie murmured, watching as Leo's indicator moved slowly through the streets of New York. He was on then other side of the river, and seemed to be hopping rooftops for now, “ like I said, he can take care of himself, but we should at least try and convince him to come back to the lair before nightfall. I don't know if his amnesia is progressing or not yet, which is also concerning.” 

Silence again. There was also the obvious concern about Leo being gone. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be one of the more difficult things they'd been collectively working through. 

The first six months or so, Leo was never left alone. Not for lack of trusting him or thinking he wasn't capable of taking care of himself ( although he was fairly injured for most of that time ) but for the fact that none of them seemed to want to let him out of their sight. It was partially why Donnie had upgraded the trackers to track their vital signs down to their blood pressure. He didn't like not knowing. He didn't like remembering the feeling of Leo being gone after- 

Donnie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It was gonna be okay. Leo wasn't gone, he just wasn't in the lair. And he couldn't possibly know how anxiety inducing that was due to the aforementioned amnesia-curse. 

But they knew where he was, and they knew he was okay for now. 

The computer suddenly let out a beep. then another. Donnie looked up, watching as Leo's dot stopped moving. His heart rate increased, and the beeping increased with it. 

There was one thing that they hadn't really accounted for, after all. 

The chance of Leo ending up in a fight.

-----

Part 3 to the unnamed fic/au/whatever this is

I don't like this part as much, but I really am just trying to get the idea out of my head and into writing, haha! So I hope the OOC-ness of everybody isn't too bad :)

I think this would def work better as a fic, but I am kinda wanting to explore it as a comic too. Comics just take a lot of time and I can't do all the fun thought-stuff I like to do on fics so :/

Ah well I will simply keep doing whatever I want, so enjoy.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4