#please be kind i haven’t drawn anything in literal years :’)

[cospritenya]

barbie meme with hakseong bc they occupy 99% of my brain space

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 06 | myg

part five: all is fair in love and war

Summary: Not everything turned the way you wanted, but you were used to it.

<part five

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff, flashbacks, *takes a deep breath* multiple smut scenes, protected sex and not so protected sex(?), fingering, explicit language, dom!yoongi if you squint, lots of teasing, lots of kissing, also DON’T open condoms with your teeth pls !! btw english is not my first language.

—words: 14k

—a/note: literally screaming as I write this bc I haven’t been so excited to post anything everrrr. omg this was so complicated to write it has my blood, sweat and tears on it!! hope you like it and as always I’m open to discuss this part in the asks (please do) (it’s an order)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

It wasn’t a surprise for you to know that Yoongi was a patient man. He never rushed things;  he knew how to wait, he knew the precise moments to act and when to hold back. Tonight was no exception. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time as if the world had all the hours to spare just for you and him, he knew that the night itself was in his pocket.

He wasn’t wrong—the night was just beginning, and there was no reason to escape, rush, or leave early. But at this moment, you were anything but patient—not because you didn’t know how to wait, but because you had already waited long enough. From the way his fingers grazed your thighs during the car ride home to the kisses in the elevator, your impatience was growing rapidly. Every second felt drawn out, and you kept wondering how he could ignore the tension in the air, how you were sick with anticipation, on edge, waiting for his hands to touch you the way you truly wanted.

“It unzips from the back.” You whispered, breaking the silence of the quiet room. 

He saw your bright wide eyes shining in the dark, your swollen red lips and a strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, almost feeling guilty for all the things he was thinking of doing to you. 

“I know.” He breathed out, as if he hadn’t studied every part of your dress just hours before; where the zipper was, how long it was, how long it would take him to take it off.

You looked like you’d stepped out of one of his summer dreams, the kind that pulled him from his sleep, breathless and soaked in sweat in the middle of the night. Only this time he didn’t have to close his eyes and try to enter the same illusion again, he didn’t have to imagine the ending, he had you right there.

His lips moved slowly against yours, taking his time as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch as though he wanted the moment to last forever. He ventured one hand up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress and finding it with ease. With a smooth tug, he pulled it down in one motion, leaving it loose. A tingling excitement swept through you as his hands slid beneath your dress, dragging the shiny fabric upwards against your skin, pulling it over your head to leave you almost naked, wearing only your underwear. 

A chill traced its way down your spine, and a cold breeze swept over your body. If you weren’t so turned on by the way he was looking at you—his dark eyes roaming over you, absorbing the sight of you—you’d be embarrassed about the fact that the only piece of clothing under that dress were your black lace panties, but the man on top of you didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, he seemed more than satisfied.

His hands were soft against your skin, he ran his fingers down your waist, your hips and over the lace waistband of your panties, making your pulse accelerate. “You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, out of breath.

"You think?" You whispered. He bit his bottom lip, nodding as his palms slowly made their way up your torso, pressing your breasts, squeezing on the flesh and brushing his thumbs over your hardening tips. You let out a quiet whimper, arching your back to meet his touch. Yoongi immediately felt tight in his pants like he was a teenager. 

You quickly became addicted to his touch—the way his lips kissed yours with a fervor that ignited every nerve in your body, how he nipped playfully at your skin, leaving a trail of electric anticipation in their wake. The way he held you tightly, as if to ensure you wouldn’t move, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hm, and hot." He said, trailing open mouth kisses down your neck, nibbling your skin as if he was determined to mark it. His lips traveled from your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, you felt his breath against your skin and then his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue back and forth as his other hand brushed your other breast with his thumb just for the sake of driving you crazy. Yoongi was gentle, his moves were painfully slow, you couldn’t help but choke back a moan, arching your back forward already feeling dizzy. “I dreamt of having you like this” He breathed out, his lips going to your other breast, kissing your skin and leaving you undone. “So pretty and soft, all mine.”

You were sure he could see how his words affected you, that and the feeling of the fabric of his pants grazing over your core tortuously, his heavy breath and his hands over your body made you want to shut your legs off, clenching around nothing. “Yoongi…” You sighed, trying to sound firm but inevitably failing.  He hummed, pulling away before leaving a wet kiss on your skin. “This is not fair.” You huffed, making him gaze up, finding your hooded eyes observing him with furrowed eyebrows.  “How come you’re still dressed?”

For a moment, he wanted to laugh, but from the way you grabbed his shirt as if you wanted to rip it off, you seemed dead serious. The fact that you were practically naked in his bed wasn’t going to change your attitude towards him, and Yoongi knew that more than anyone; if there was one thing he had learned over the years was not to make you angry and even if you were far from being discontent, he was not trying to tempt the devil.

The confused look on Yoongi’s face melted away, placing a cheeky smirk on his lips right after. “I almost forgot how bossy you are.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.  

“Am I bossy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He did not miss the warning tone that lingered on your voice. 

“You are… really cute.” He answered, dodging your question as he watched your frown disappear from your face, you smiled, accepting the compliment. He quickly unfastened all the buttons of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it away somewhere in the room, he was pleased to grant your wishes.

You bit your bottom lip, satisfied. It was a rare sight; you could count the amount of times that you saw Yoongi shirtless, including that one time last summer—but it was different this time, his frame was broader and his shoulders were wider, you could notice the subtle definition of his arms, of his chest, you swore it could drive you insane. Fuck that damn gym.

“This too?” He asked, his fingers tightening around the belt of his pants. You looked at him through your lashes, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. 

“That too.” You nodded eagerly, and he had no choice but to comply with your instructions; you were observing every move he made as you laid on his bed, with your hair scattered across the pillow looking at him like you could ask anything from him and he would give it to you. He wasted no time, straightened up and unbuckled his pants, managing to get rid of them easily. 

He bent close to you, his face inches away from yours as he locked your gaze with you, his hands reaching for the only piece of clothing that prevented you from being fully naked “What about this?” He asked, playfully curling his fingers on the waistband of your panties, his hot breath hitting your mouth. 

A tingling sensation filled you, and goosebumps spread across your skin as his fingers moved down your center, slipping between your tights and pushing your panties aside, gently gliding through your wet folds. He was careful, rubbing slow circles on your clit, teasing your entrance as if he were mocking you, playing with you. “Should I take this off?” His deep voice resonated in your ears. 

In a matter of seconds you felt yourself becoming completely vulnerable. You tilted your head, trying not to close your eyes. “Please…” You let out in a weak whisper, feeling your skin getting warmer. 

“Please?” He chuckled. “Please what?” 

You had been instantly pushed into a trance, you were too lost in the sensation to be embarrassed by how wet you already were. “Please, take it off…” You said, being washed by a wave of pleasure every time his finger taunted your entrance, only to come back to your clit, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

You were sure that with a few quick movements you could do that by yourself, but there was something about Yoongi being in control that made your stomach turn, and there was something about you, uncomfortably squirming under him, slowly moving your hips to meet his fingers and patiently waiting for his next move that made Yoongi feel like a caveman. 

“And then?” He continued to ask, “What should I do next?”

Then, like he knew exactly what buttons to push, he sank two of his fingers into you, curling inside you without further notice. You gasped softly, but the answer got stuck in your throat, lost in a sea of thoughts. One of his hands firmly gripped your thigh, spreading you out so he could have a better access to your pussy, sinking his fingers and pulling away so he could toy with your sensitive clit. 

You gripped his shoulders to find some balance while his fingers pulled out, gathering your wetness to fuck you again without hurry, taking his time so he could watch every expression you made, the soft frown in your face, your slightly parted lips, the way you bit your lip everytime you were about to make a loud sound, you were crumbling apart for him slowly, almost without noticing.

You shut your eyes, “Yoongi…” You moaned out.

“Yes?” 

You bit your lips, struggling to find the words. His voice sounded so gentle but his actions were so evil, you never imagined that Yoongi was going to be this bad, mocking and teasing you for his own satisfaction, and somehow, it felt like he fell from the sky just for you. 

“You’re being mean…” You whimpered, rolling your head back against the pillow. He slithered his hands over your chest, playing with your breast as you rolled your center against his hand, trying to chase the feeling. “Don’t play with me.”

Your voice and your words were laced with sin, he had never heard you talk in such a soft and tender manner, even if you were practically threatening him. 

Yoongi was aware he could only push the teasing so far, not only because you were too eager, but he also had to consider how tight he was feeling in his boxers, he knew he was in no position to keep playing with you. Still, he smirked, satisfied as he observed the way you melted in his hand. 

He brushed his nose over yours “What, do you want me to stop?” He said, a mocking tone in his voice. You would’ve been furious with him in any other scenario, but in this particular one you couldn’t help but feel completely flustered. 

You let out the most pathetic mewl sound you ever heard, shaking your head. 

“Mmm, thought so.” He chuckled, closing the distance between the two of you to catch your lips between his teeth and wrapped you in a fervent kiss. With an urgency, he grabbed a handful of your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tilted your head to the side and opening his mouth wide open, deepening the kiss. It seemed like the only right way to be kissed; hard, sloppy and messy, he eagerly licked your tongue in your mouth and managed to erase every coherent thought in your mind as he kept fucking you with his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

It felt too good, his body against yours, his lips kissing you as if he was about to devour you, his fingers grazing over your clit every time he pulled them out of your pussy just to push them deep down inside you again. You wished you could prolong the moment for a few more seconds, but the familiar tight feeling on your stomach warned you that you were dangerously close to your climax.

Yoongi, incapable of keeping it together any longer, pulled his fingers out at the same time he broke the kiss apart, making you finch. You whined in protest, but he left a small kiss in the corner of your lips in hopes to keep you content. 

“Stop torturing me…” You said, already feeling frustrated. 

“Is this what you call torture?” Yoongi scoffed, his voice hoarse. He reached for the nightstand next to his bed, pulling open the drawer. You heard his hand quickly going over some clutter, removing things until he finally found what he was searching for. “What about me? Watching you about to cum while I’m fucking hard.” 

Your eyes inevitably traveled south, observing the outline of his cock under his tight boxers. You gulped, that view was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Even if he was struggling a bit with the whole situation, Yoongi knew he could die happily right there, he could not complain at all. 

When Yoongi noticed the way you were ogling him, your thoughts drifting elsewhere, he tried to catch your attention by holding up the small condom package in front of your face, its glossy surface glinting under the light. “Open it.” He just said. 

You paused for a brief second, then decisively bit the foil, opening it with your teeth.

Fuck. 

If Yoongi wasn’t completely hard before, now he felt he could explode right in this moment. 

“Fuck, you might kill me tonight," He breathed, surrender evident in his voice as his gaze lingered on you, trying maintaining his composure, though impatience was beginning to creep into his demeanor. You couldn’t help but smile. “Now let me take these off” He said, hooking one of his fingers on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and taking them off. You bit your lips in anticipation, watching the piece of clothing disappear from your eyesight. 

“It wasn’t that difficult after all.” You murmured, making him laugh. You would never miss an opportunity to pick a fight with him. 

“God, Pinky. Do you ever shut up?” He said, gripping the back of your thighs and bringing you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but your attitude didn’t last very long; the next thing you saw were his hands, pushing down his underwear to let his cock spring free, almost making you choke with your own saliva. 

You suddenly shifted yourself up onto your elbows, ever so dramatic. “Yoongi…” You cried, giving him more than one reason to feel cocky right now. “I don’t know if I can take that.” A smirk tugged from the corners of his lips, one of his hands traveling down his length to jerk himself off, determined to drive you insane. You should’ve imagined that the fact that Yoongi was so confident and cocky was directly connected to how big he was; you wanted to punch him just for that alone. This wasn’t fair at all. 

Yoongi laughed, rolling the condom onto himself and shaking his head, not paying real attention to your concern. He settled himself between your legs, dragging his crown between your wet folds, you barely managed to bite back a moan, throwing your head against the pillows. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You can take it.” His voice sounded so deep it vibrated in your ears, the weight of his words filled with lust and the gentle feeling of the tip of his cock resting on your entrance were so overwhelming it almost made you miss the new endearment, but you heard it just right, even if you felt like were in the brink of madness, aching to feel him inside you.

“Then, hurry up.” You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. He chucked at that, never in a million years he thought he would have you like that, trapped under him, with a frown on your face, urging him to hurry up. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. 

“No need to rush, we have all night.” He simply said, as if he was purposefully trying to annoy you, but the truth was that, as patient as he could be, having you naked under him and not being inside you was beginning to do a number on him, too.

You let out a cry when he sank into you, slowly guiding himself deep inside your pussy, groaning. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good. “Take everything for me, be a good girl.” He said, his gaze meeting the way you sucked him whole, you were too far gone to make sense of anything else. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good, you gasped when he pushed a leg against your torso, burying himself inside you and reaching your deepest point, you’ve never felt that full. “Look at that— fuck, you fit me just right.”

“Fuck. Yoongi, I-” You attempted to form a coherent sentence, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt his cock stretching you open, leaving you breathless. 

“How’s that, hmh?” 

Lacking a better response, you nodded, letting a small whimper leave your lips. “Please, move…” You mumbled, immediately feeling how he began to set a pace, moving languidly and enjoying how your body adjusted to him as he moved inside you. He slid his cock almost completely out of you, slamming back to meet your body once again, you felt yourself dripping down his length, certain that you were becoming a complete mess. “It’s so good.” You whimpered, not even thinking straight, you were completely focused on the way he was slipping in and out of your wet heat. 

Yoongi could only think how good you felt, just the view of you, overwhelmed with your eyes barely open, biting your lips so you made the least amount of noise possible, made his cock throb inside you, making him feel like he was on the verge of breaking. “You’re so tight, baby.” He moaned out, obsessed with the way you wrapped around him perfectly, the way your cunt pulled him back in every time he pulled away, the way your breast bounced in front of him as he drilled in and out of you. He was sure he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he knew that, considering that you were just about to cum a few moments ago, you weren’t going to last long either. “You look so pretty taking me, wish I could take a picture.”

“God- Yoongi…” You whimpered, his name slipping out, the only word you could grasp, filling every corner of your mind.. You felt your pleasure building in your belly and your thighs trembling as he kept thrusting inside you, “I’m not, oh-” Your voice got caught in your throat when you felt a particularly hard thrust hit your sweet spot, leaving you breathless. 

“You like it, baby?” He grunted against your neck leaving wet kisses on your skin as his thrusts deepened . You nodded several times, the only thing you could do was moan in response. “Tell me you like it.” 

“I- Yes, I love it, feels so good.” You slurred, feeling his lips kissing your jaw, your check and then catching your lips, kissing you softly, a gesture so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you open. 

He bit your lips tenderly “You feel so nice.” He murmured against your mouth, “Want to have you like this all night, would you let me?” Your voice was cut by a moan, as if you could find an answer for that anyway. “Would you let me fuck you all night?”

You were certain that his words were going to be engraved in your mind for a long time, you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he pronounced each syllable, compelling you into saying whatever he wanted to hear, how he looked at you without any kind of inhibition, how he touched you like your body was his only; you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Y-yes, please.” You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around him at the thought. 

“Such a good girl.” He said between huffs. “So perfect, like you were made just for me.”

Completely drunk on his compliments, you sobbed, digging your nails on his biceps once he began to sped his thrusts, he could see the desire spreading all over your face, moaning into his mouth “Fuck, right there.” You said in the prettiest of whimpers “I’m- so close.” 

“You gonna cum for me?” You didn’t need to tell him, he could feel the way you were throbbing around his cock, bouncing up and down and getting tighter with each thrust, it was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, I’m-“ You struggled to finish the sentence, your thoughts were all tangled, your words stumbled upon each other, “It’s too much…” you could only feel the burning sensation between your legs, your wet thighs, his hips hitting against yours filling the room with filthy sounds. Somewhere in your mind there was a version of you that was worried about the sound of Yoongi’s headboard hitting the wall, or how loud both of you sounded, or the fact that Yoongi’s building was full of elder people who will have more than a reason to complain the next day, but if you were being honest, right now you couldn’t find the will to even care about it one bit. 

One of his hands reached to grab your jaw, making you look him straight into his eyes, but you were struggling to focus your crystallized gaze. “Want to see you cum for me.” He hissed, hypnotized by how pretty you looked, whimpering and sobbing around him. Without notice, one of his hands slithered between your bodies, running down your belly and meeting his fingers on your sensitive nub, tracing small circles on it to finish you.  “Be good for me, baby, cream my cock.”

“Fuck, d-don’t stop…” Your eyes fluttered shut, arching your back off the mattress as you felt yourself coming undone. You had never felt that way, so high on your own pleasure, a few more thrusts were enough to push yourself over the edge, tightly squeezing around him and moaning his name like a broken record. You dug your nails into his back, clinging to him as though you might collapse if you let go, but he helped you ride your high, even if the sight of you was about to push him to his breaking point. “That’s it, baby, I got you.” He said, his voice barely hanging by a thread.  His thrusts began to feel uncoordinated, a sign that he was not far from his release. “God, you’re so pretty, you’re gonna make me cum, too.” 

He crashed his lips onto yours, making you swallow all his moans as he fucked himself into you, reaching his climax. The room was filled with your heavy breath, muffled moans, the sound of his skin hitting against your as you finished milking him dry, with your forehead against his, murmuring his name in the dark as you both came down from your high.

You were tired, your whole body felt heavy and sore, but you still felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips kissed you, making you feel like you were in an alternate universe. 

“You’re not real.” He said, mesmerized as he met your teary eyes. You didn’t know where this Yoongi came from, but you didn’t want him to leave. 

You groaned, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re too much…” You said, hiding your face in his neck. 

You heard him chuckle as his body softened on top of you. “Get used to it.” 

Maybe it was time to admit that you were a bit messed up in the head, realizing you never quite knew when to let your guard down. You could excuse it by saying you'd spent so long building walls around yourself that you’d forgotten what it felt like to live without them, or you could just tell the truth and say that you were afraid.

As you rested in Yoongi’s bed, refusing to fall asleep, you observed him, wishing to be as clueless and unafraid of the future as him. 

You heard his muffled voice, Yoongi’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, as he refused to go to sleep just yet. “You never told me if you like me too.” He said as he hugged your waist.

You traced your fingers along the back of his neck, gently threading through his long hair at the nape.

“I don’t, what gave you the impression?” You joked, making him bite the skin of your neck for teasing him.

“C’mon…” He said, glancing up “Tell me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, his eyes barely open and the pout on his mouth while he asked you to confirm something obvious. 

“I like you, Yoongi. I really do.” You confirmed, as if it was ever necessary to do so.

“But since when?” He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense.

“I can't tell you that.”

He frowned, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “Why?”

You shrugged, trying to avoid his eyes. “Mmm... because it's embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t care,” He insisted, shifting to lie down beside you, settling onto the pillow with a gentle sigh. You turned towards him, mirroring his position from before and resting your head on his chest, your fingers tracing random patterns along his chest.

“I know,” You murmured, your voice softer now. “But I would.” You hesitated, the words tasting heavier than you'd expected. “It’s just... it’s a long time.”

He propped himself up slightly, looking down at you, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “How long?” He pressed. “Since college?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Longer than that.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Mmm... since high school?” His voice held a teasing edge. “I wasn’t that cute back then.”

“You were really cute in high school,” you found yourself admitting, a smile tugging at your lips as your mind wandered back. You could still picture him, awkward in his oversized clothes and square glasses, but somehow, to you, he’d been the only boy who existed.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So... since high school.”

“Mmm…” You hesitated to answer. Hiding your face on his chest. You felt his fingers on your waist, squeezing the flesh so he could make you look at him. “A bit longer than that.”

Yoongi sighed, trying to think of a memory where he remembered you having a crush on him, but nothing came to mind. For someone you claimed to be the smartest person in the room, he seemed to be completely clueless. Perhaps because Yoongi always saw you as your brother's little sister, as this teenager that wanted nothing to do with her brother, as his friend. The idea of you having a crush on him since that long was crazy, but more crazy was the fact that he didn't notice at all. 

“God, don’t make that face,” you complained, rolling your eyes as you shifted uncomfortably.

“What face?” he asked, his voice distant, a slight frown tugging at his features as he seemed momentarily distracted.

“I told you, it’s embarrassing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad to have a crush on me?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks flush. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” He shook his head with a playful grin, inching closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “I still want to know.”

You huffed, debating whether to tell him the truth or not.

“What exactly do you want to know?” You asked, a mix of hesitation and willingness in your voice, ready to answer his question.

“Mmm... I don’t know, when did you know?” He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held a deeper curiosity.

“I was a kid, Yoongi,” You replied, your voice softening, as if the memory itself were a weight.

“What about it? I’m curious.”

Maybe you were the only one in the room who found it embarrassing, because Yoongi wasn’t judging you—he was simply asking, genuinely interested. But the answer… it came from somewhere deep inside, a place you couldn’t quite reach, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t something that could be spoken so easily, yet here you were, on the verge of telling him.

You smiled, closing your eyes. “The thing is… that I don’t think is something that I can remember, Yoongi.” You confessed “It’s embarrassing because maybe I always felt that way. I was never the kind of kid who could be easily understood, but you did, and in those moments where you didn't, you sided with me anyway. And I don't know, I felt like you saw right through me and I liked that. I guess that messed with my head, because I knew that what I felt was somewhat irrational but I couldn't make it go away, I tried but I still can't. I have always been kind of a loser.”

Yoongi’s chest tightened, as though a quiet ache settled in, deep and raw. It was as if he could sense the weight behind your words—the hesitation, the vulnerability—but he knew they were nothing but the truth. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for him began, because, in a way, he had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface of your thoughts.

He reached out, his hand gently threading through your hair before sliding down your back, pulling you closer to him.

“You're not a loser, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice low and steady as his fingers found the back of your neck, keeping you anchored to him. “And you’re not difficult to understand. You’re not irrational, or crazy, or losing your mind.” A soft laugh escaped you as you listened to him list off your most frequent self-deprecating phrases.

“Isn’t it a bit embarrassing, though?” You whispered, the words barely escaping your lips

“What, having a crush?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

You nodded, but a part of you wanted to shake your head, to clarify that it wasn’t just about the crush. It was the way you had fallen in love with him—because, somehow, he was the only one who could ever truly understand you.

“For this long?” You whispered. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” He replied, his fingers gently tracing through your hair, the touch soothing.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you pressed a kiss to his chest, settling closer against him. You felt a wave of warmth washing all over your body. 

“You're too good to me.”

He let out a soft laugh, sitting up straighter on the bed. “Come here,” He murmured, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer with ease. “I want to kiss you until you give me a toothache.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch as his hands cupped your face. “I’m too sour to give you a toothache.”

“No, you're sweet,” He insisted, his grip tightening around your waist. With a playful move, he slid one of your legs around his, drawing you onto his lap. “You're nauseatingly sweet. Now shut up, sit here.” You settled on his lap, still shaking your head in defiance, even as your body remained pressed against his. “I want you to ride me.”

You snorted, surprised. “I have to shower...” You murmured, trying to pull back, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders to create some distance.

“Ride me first,” he breathed, his voice low and insistent. “Then we’ll shower.”

He leaned in for a kiss, grabbing your waist to keep you pressed to his body. “We?” You asked against his lips, chuckling.

You didn’t forget the fact that you were still naked, he kept kissing you, aligning your hips so he could rub your slit with his cock, making you wince. “Don’t you want to shower with me?” He innocently asked, pressing down your body against him so there was no space between the two of you.

You bit his lip, making him let out a small moan against your mouth. “Maybe…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Why would I want to?”

“‘Cause I’ll make you cum.” He said without any trace of hesitation in his voice.

You groaned, rolling your hips against his body. “Really?” You kept teasing. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard, his hands sliding to your ass to pull you closer. “How?”

He raised his hips to meet your entrance, teasing your clit with every movement. From a second to another, you were trapped in a trance again. “First, I’m fucking you with my fingers.” He slowly said, his voice deep as he left a kiss on your neck, his palms gripping your ass to press you closer to him. You nodded, enjoying the way he handled you as he pleased. “And when you’re close I’m gonna start eating out that lovely pussy of yours. But when you think you’re just about to cum I’ll stop.” You whimpered, your head already spinning at the thought. The only logical thought in your mind was that Yoongi should be thrown in jail for the way he spoke, and the way he was moving. “I will only fuck you with my cock when you’re begging me to fill you with my cum, would you like that?” You let out a shaky breath, nodding, not thinking much about what you were agreeing to. “Would you like me to cum inside you, baby?” 

You nodded pathetically, your eyes fluttering shut as he ease the ache between your legs every time he rolled his hips against your body. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, feeling completely ridiculous at the thought of cumming like this. Suddenly, he stopped his movements, making you open your eyes to look at him. 

Yoongi was looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his face, ready to tease you. “Or I can let you go, I don’t mind.” He murmured, leaving an innocent kiss on your lips. 

You punched his arm, annoyed at him. “Fuck you.”

It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because you haven’t left since you arrived. 

You knew you should probably leave, give your mother a New Year’s kiss in person rather than sending a quick text, change into fresh clothes, and get some proper sleep. But inside these four walls, it was as if time had not passed. You’d woken up this morning beside him, determined to be the kind of girl who slipped away early, left no trace and didn't linger. But instead of the cold chill of the morning, you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, his breath soft against your neck. So, you let yourself stay just a few seconds longer, waiting for him to wake up first.

You stayed in bed until he offered one of his t-shirts to wear and kissed your nose, he only left the bed to make breakfast.

Now you were kneeling on the floor, lowering your head to search under Yoongi’s bed for your dress. You wondered what would be worse: showing up at home in Yoongi’s clothes or wearing last night’s dress.

“What are you looking for?” You heard his voice behind you. You sat up, turning your attention to him. He was still wrapped in his morning look—gray sweatpants, a black tee, and ruffled hair, probably thanks to you. Damn, he looked good.

“My dress.” You explained “Where did you throw it?” 

“Oh, I put it in my wardrobe,” He answered casually, extending his hand to help you up from the floor. You took it, trying to keep the shirt you were wearing from hiking up—though it was a losing battle. “Why?”

“I’d better get going,” You said shyly, nodding towards the door. 

“Why?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well, um…” You stammered, searching for an answer, but you didn’t have one.

“You can stay,” he interrupted, his tone firm.

“I don’t know… I have no clothes.” The words felt foolish as soon as they left your mouth.

He scoffed. “You have clothes.” He scanned your body from head to toe, but all you were wearing was an old shirt that still smelled like his perfume and a pair of boxers he’d kindly offered you after tossing your black panties in the wash. You didn’t actually have clothes. “You’re dressed right now.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your waist over the fabric of his shirt. You unconsciously stepped towards him, letting him cup your face with one of his hands.“I wish you weren’t, though.” 

“Yoongi…” You whined, hypnotized by the way he bit his bottom lip.

“What?” He murmured.

“My mom?…” You mumbled, making him laugh once again. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, his knee slowly pushing between your legs—was he trying to make you trip into his bed?

You gripped his shoulders tightly, determined to stay on your feet.

“I bet your mom’s just fine,” He said, his voice laced with mockery. “Unless you want to leave.”

His knee pressed deeper into your thigh, but you fought back, unwilling to let gravity win so easily.

You tried to come up with a clever, sassy response, something that would shut down his attempts to make you blush, but you were too focused on not falling into his bed. You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, lowering his voice and pulling your face closer with his grip.

You pursed your lips, finally losing the battle with gravity as you tumbled into the bed, pulling him down with you. Your eyes locked for a brief moment, the room so still you could hear the pounding of your own heartbeat and the soft sound of his hands running up your thighs, squeezing the skin beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Or do you want to stay?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear, though the words seemed to echo in your mind.

You were too proud to say anything, he should’ve known you didn’t like to ask for things, but he was proud as well, he needed you to say it, and maybe this time you wanted to do it.

“I’ll stay...” You whispered, making him smirk. 

“Mmm… I won’t argue with that.” He murmured, pressing your nose against yours and kissing you with his mouth open, melting you under his body as his hands did the rest of the work.

And when you finished, tangled with each other, with his nose buried in your neck and his body on top of yours, he breathed out. You sighed, observing the watch on his wrist next to your head, it was only eleven in the morning. And that should be the perfect moment to run away before he kicked you out, but when you tried to move under his body, you found his gaze. 

“What?” He smiled, gripping your waist so you stayed there. 

“Nothing…” You said “Am not allowed to look at you now?” 

“No, you are.” He said “You’re just not allowed to look at me like you’re about to tell me you have to run away- I mean, that you have to leave.” 

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ll get tired of me.”

He braced himself on his arms, lowering his hands into the mattress as he hovered above you, just like he had five minutes ago before you came undone under him. The memory sent a flutter through your stomach, but now, he looked cute—confused by your words.

“You know, if you leave, I’m just going to follow you home, right?” He said, catching you off guard.

“Are you serious?” You scoffed. 

“I mean, what are you going to say? You have no clothes, you have to shower, you have to see your mom?” 

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What if I want to see my mom?” You teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Leave your mom alone, Pinky,” He shot back, grinning. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Stay with me today.”

You tilted your head, eyes searching his lips. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Stay with me tomorrow too,” He insisted, his voice soft but firm. “And the day after, as well.”

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into...” You warned, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” He said, his gaze steady. “Trust me, I do.”

You wondered how long you could stay before you snapped out of the trance, how many kisses you could give, how many secrets you could share, how many times he could lift your shirt up your chest, kiss your stomach, kiss your neck. It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because after that you couldn’t escape his hands for the whole day.

Yoongi’s apartment suddenly became a universe of its own. He played music while you danced through the kitchen. He put on a movie as the snow fell outside, and you snuck onto his bed, napped wrapped in his arms, and woke up just in time for dinner.

For a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Yoongi showed you pictures of the hotel he was planning to book for your getaway to the beach, mentioning that he’d considered booking two rooms but now didn’t think it was necessary. You received a call from Simon, but you simply wished him a happy New Year without telling him anything. You texted your mom, letting her know you were with Yoongi, and she didn’t ask any questions. You texted Minnie, but her response was quite different—she bombarded you with almost twenty texts, begging you to tell her everything. 

Yoongi was serious, he wouldn’t let you go that easily. After dinner he trapped you in bed and kissed you till you were out of breath, making you promise that you’ll stay the night again. 

“What if I have other plans?” You murmured as you brushed the hair away from his face.

“What other plans would you have?” He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know, what if I have to see a boy?” You shot back, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Mmm, what boy?” He asked.

You bit your lip, sensing the opportunity waiting for you to seize it.

“I think you know him, actually,” You said, shifting slightly under him. You seemed to find yourself in that position more often than you realized. “His name’s Namjoon. Does that ring any bells?”

Yoongi blinked, clearly caught off guard, before letting out a soft chuckle. He grinned mischievously, then quickly reached for your sides, tickling you until you squirmed. “You’re asking for it now,” He teased, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in to nip playfully at the skin there.

You burst out laughing, trying to wiggle away. “Stop! Stop, I’m serious!” you gasped between laughs, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you tried to push him off.

Present

By the time Friday came, you had already decided you were on vacation. After a few calls with Sally and another few calls with your publicist, you had cleared your schedule completely and you were free to do whatever you wanted for the next three months. You supposed you deserved it, or that was what you were trying to convince yourself about as you had breakfast and planned what you were going to do today —which was nothing. 

As the days passed, the news, reporters, and everyone else trying to reach you for a statement began to forget about you, it turned out to be that you weren’t the most important person in the world, and saying no to a marriage proposal wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done. The world kept spinning and everyone moved on to the next scandal, but the ache in your chest didn’t go away that quick.

You tried contacting Ian countless times. At first, all you wanted was to confront him and to ask him to tell you the truth, but by the tenth attempt, you were ready to curse him and his entire family. The fact that he had blocked your number only confirmed what you suspected—he was the one who leaked the pictures. 

Making peace with it felt impossible; it was as though you’d been lying beside a stranger, an enemy, for nearly four years. You wondered if he felt the same about you right now—if that was why he did what he did. But you weren’t the most forgiving person to exist, nor was forgetting in your nature. So even if some part of you knew it might be healthier to let go, you clung to the bitterness, feeling it settle deep inside you, a grudge you were ready to carry for as long as it took. Letting go simply wasn’t an option.

Still, you didn’t let the whole scandal ruin your main plan—an early vacation in October. But it seemed your friend Minnie, sitting across from you with a glare that could kill, was more than ready to.

Minnie didn’t keep insisting you on helping her with The Alley, but you knew that she was counting on you. You promised to go with her today, but the fact that you didn’t say a word about it the whole week was beginning to make her think that you changed your mind. 

“I’m going with you today.” You said without taking your eyes off your phone. “You don’t need to look at me like that.” 

You heard her sigh in relief. “God, I was afraid you would say no.”

“I said I would the other day, didn’t I?” You reminded her, making her roll her eyes. 

“Yes, like you are a person who doesn’t change her mind at all.” 

You laughed, letting her comment slide. 

By the afternoon, you were standing at the door of The Alley, waiting behind Minnie as she tried each one of the fifty keys of the keyring in locks of the large wooden doors. “I never know which key is.” She murmured under her breath, annoyed. 

You weren’t of much help, all you could do was observe her as she cursed Sid for not labeling the keys, hiding in your scarf just in case she took it on you as well. Minnie peered through the keyhole, as if she could glimpse the shape of the lock and somehow figure out which key would fit. You took a look around at the park, which was completely desolated, except for the view of two people approaching down the street. 

It took you exactly two seconds to figure out who that was, after all, you had memorized every tiny bit of Yoongi’s personality, including the way he walked. There he was, this time dressed casually, with a black hoodie on and a black cap over his head, laughing and chatting with a blonde girl who you didn’t recognize at all.

You turned immediately, pretending you hadn’t just seen him and that girl heading in your direction. Your first instinct was to curse Minnie for not warning you that Yoongi would be here, but, in fairness, she had mentioned he’d be around—and you had assured her it didn’t bother you. Still, you hadn’t expected him to appear the moment you arrived. For the sake of keeping your word, you played dumb, pretending not to have seen him.

“This is pissing me off.” Said your friend, straightening up and wiping the sweat off her forehead. She looked around, catching the glimpse of Yoongi almost as quickly as you did. “Oh, don’t turn around.” She warned you as she waved at him, faking a smile. “You don’t want to know who’s coming.”

“I already know.” You gritted through your teeth.

“How did you know?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you feel him coming? How? Do you have some kind of spidey sense I don’t know about? Like… an ex-boyfriend radar or something?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. No. I saw him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, but you just shrugged, already hearing steps behind you, slowing down as they approached you.

“Hey, guys,” Minnie said with a polite smile, holding up the jangling keyring. “Am I late? I’ve been wrestling with these keys.”

Yoongi’s eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of unease flashing across his face before he shifted his gaze to the blonde girl beside him. Her expression froze for just a moment, her gaze landing on you with a slight look of recognition, but you barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on the uncomfortable pause that followed.  “Uh… no, you’re fine,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we’re just a bit early.”

You murmured a quiet “hi,” watching as Yoongi stepped towards Minnie. “Let me see,” he said in that low voice of his, reaching for the keyring. Minnie handed it over eagerly, clearly too flustered to remember introductions, but you didn’t mind. You had no interest in learning who Yoongi had shown up with—not in the slightest. “I already told you which one it is.”

In what universe Yoongi knew which key opened the doors of The Alley? Apparently, in this one. In a matter of seconds he had found the key and opened without any problem, leaving Minnie thanking him. 

“I need to label it before I lose it again.” She said.

The blonde watched them both, her gaze flickering to you for just a moment before returning to Yoongi. She shifted her weight, as if she was waiting for something else to happen while Yoongi and Minnie exchanged words, but you kept quiet. You were quite used to people recognizing you on the street, especially in your hometown where every single person knew your name, that didn’t mean that you enjoyed it. 

“Look, it has different slots from the other ones.” He showed her, and Minnie looked carefully as he pointed the key. 

“Fine, I’ll try to remember.” She nodded, grabbing the keyring from his hands. “Now enter, time to work.”

Minnie clapped her hands as she stepped inside, disappearing ahead and leaving you, Yoongi, and the blonde girl—someone you'd never seen before—standing there, exchanging glances as if there were something unspoken between you all. The blonde shifted her gaze to you briefly, her expression unreadable yet somehow expectant. You felt a knot tightening in your chest and quickly slipped past them without acknowledging it, catching up to Minnie and putting the awkwardness of the moment behind you.

“You can play some music if you want.” Said Minnie, disappearing through a hall that led to the office.

You hurried towards her, leaving Yoongi and his friend behind without a backward glance.

“Why does Yoongi know how to open the doors, and you don’t?” You whispered, quickening your steps to keep up with Minnie.

“I told you, he’s here all the time,” She replied, barely slowing down as she moved ahead. “He has to fix some lights from the theater today.” 

“And... who was that?” You asked, slipping into the office and closing the door behind you a little faster than necessary.

Minnie dropped her bag on the desk with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t know—some girl he’s seeing now,” She replied, shrugging. “She’s just here to keep him company. I doubt she cares much about The Alley, but hey, not my business.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the faintest stir of something you couldn’t quite name. You pushed it aside—no need to dwell on it.

“How do you know?” You asked, trying to sound casual. “Is he your personal friend now?”

She chuckled, sitting back in her chair. “We’re friendly,” the redhead replied, her tone light as if that wasn’t the biggest betrayal of all.

You let yourself fall into the chair across from her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” She said with a shrug. “I don’t really have a choice.” Then, her gaze met yours. “We don’t talk about you, though. He doesn’t dare say your name.”

“He doesn’t mention me but he talks about the girls he’s seeing?” You asked, crossing your arms above your chest. 

“Yes, it’s like he’s seen a ghost everytime someone says your name, it’s funny.” She said “And why are you asking, anyway? Are you jealous?” She teased. 

You couldn’t deny that the fact that Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear your name gave you a little bit of satisfaction, but knowing that he also shared the details of his most recent date with who was supposed to be your best friend pissed you off. 

“You’re a traitor, Minnie,” You muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Didn’t you say you had no problem with him being around?” She shot back, using your own words against you. “He’s helping out with everything. I can’t exactly avoid being friendly.”

You huffed, already knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the sting of betrayal. “Still…” you grumbled, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. “You’re supposed to be on my side, one hundred percent.”

“I have to choose my battles, honey.” She sighed, paying little attention to your tantrum. “For the sake of this place, at least.” 

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair, arms still crossed. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” You muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, but it still seeped through.

Minnie slipped through some papers on the desk, glancing up to you. “Besides… I can be on your side, which I am, and still be friendly to him. I’m not trying to brainwash you, but he’s a great guy, you know? Overall…”

“I know that.” You said, defeated, “I know that more than anyone.”

Your friend didn’t need to convince you; you knew better than anyone how impossible it was to dislike Yoongi. You knew that he was a great man, a great son, a great neighbor. That he loved his mother, was the best friend of everyone and girls loved him. And yet, it was for all those reasons that you resented him. If only he were just a little less of all those things, a little more selfish, maybe—just maybe—he might have chosen you.

Four years ago

You have never been the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but the next morning, tangled in sheets under Yoongi’s body, you were. 

That afternoon you inevitably had to say goodbye to him, but not without him putting on a good fight first. His mom was coming back from vacation that night and you refused to be there when she arrived just to find you wearing her son’s clothes as pajamas for the second day in a row, even if Yoongi argued that there was nothing wrong with it since she’d known you all your life. At the end he ended up agreeing with you, deciding that maybe you were right and driving you home.

You walked backwards towards the porch, blowing kisses to Yoongi, who sat in his car, trying to catch each one of them. He waited until you opened the door and winked at you, waving a goodbye before starting the car and disappearing. Closing the door behind you, you felt your heart beating against your ribcage, threatening to escape from your body. You leaned against the door for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the space around you. Your breath was shallow, your chest tight, as if the air itself was heavier now that he was gone. 

You had always been in love with Yoongi; it was a weight you had carried for most of your life. You had grown tired of trying to get rid of it, learning to live with it as if it were a curse. But this time, it felt different, it was like love was supposed to feel like. 

You wanted things to sink in and be as far from him as you possibly could, but as soon as you heard the car driving away, a sudden urge to run and look for him took over you. 

Still, you lay in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like you were sixteen again, wondering if it was okay to text him first. What should you say? That you had a great time? That you wanted to see him again? You wished he could have just appeared at your doorstep without you having to ask. You wished to hear the sound of a rock against your window, only to find out it was him, calling for you.

Later that night, you did receive a text from Yoongi, though not in the way you had imagined.

Almost all of Yoongi’s memories were of just him and his mom together. The concept of family had always been different for him than it was for everyone else, but he had learned to embrace it. Even so, he often wished things could have been different—that his mother didn’t have to work two jobs, that he didn’t have to spend so much time in other people’s homes, that the concept of a family of two didn’t come with so many complications. 

Yoongi had spent most of his childhood with nannies and Simon’s mom, observing how Lila took her of her children and hoping that image could be his instead. 

He grew up trying not to cause much trouble, working to help his mom, studying hard, and striving to earn a full scholarship. Between long hours at part-time jobs and nights spent pouring over textbooks, he found himself attending to her when her health took a turn—making meals, running errands, or simply sitting by her side to ensure she was comfortable. The weight of responsibility shaped him early, leaving little room for his own dreams, doing everything he could to lighten her burden while quietly dreaming of a future where neither of them had to struggle.

His mother had become a priority and he never complained, he loved her, but in the meantime he was slowly forgetting about himself without noticing. 

That night, Yoongi had created a group chat to inform all his family that his mother had suffered an accident on her way home from vacation. She had fallen, breaking her hip in the process, and now required surgery as soon as possible. The tone of his message was calm, almost detached, as if he were trying to keep the weight of the situation from overwhelming anyone. Still, you could feel the urgency behind his words, the unspoken worry pressing between the lines. 

His message said that she was going into surgery in a few hours and that his aunt was with him, but didn’t answer any other message for the rest of the night until the next morning, when he announced that the surgery had gone okay and that Nari was fine, though she didn’t wake up yet.  

You felt a whole carving in your chest just by thinking of him, handling the situation alone. You knew that Yoongi always tried to convince everyone he was fine on his own, that he didn’t need anyone’s help, but you couldn’t shake the image of him sitting in a hospital chair, exhausted and worn, holding it together for everyone else while no one held it together for him. 

Even if you wanted to visit Nari, to be there for both of them, Yoongi explicitly said that people could only visit her once she was at home, three days later.

That very same morning you began your ten block walk to Yoongi’s home, starting to feel your feet getting frozen inside of your monochrome black Converse, your fingers numbing inside your half finger gloves and a strange feeling in your gut that was slowly creeping up on you.

You tried to tell yourself that it was the bad taste that left you the news of the accident, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of worry, hence the anxious feeling in your stomach. Even if Yoongi had said that everything went alright, you still were worried.

You turned around and looked at the end of the street where your home was, wondering if you should go back and take your car, but you ultimately buried your hands in the pockets of your jacket and decided to carry on your way; ten blocks in the snow never killed anyone. 

When you started to approach the old building, flashbacks immediately assaulted your memory in the least subtle of ways, it was like every kiss lingered in your skin, you couldn’t wash them off.

You rang the bell, announced yourself and in less than five minutes you were in front of Yoongi’s door like you were a few days ago. 

“Pinky, I-... I didn’t know you were coming.” Was the first thing he said. 

Yoongi’s face was a map of exhaustion, his eyelids hung heavy and the skin beneath his eyes shadowed by the weight of sleepless nights. 

“Hi to you too,” you mumbled.

“Sorry... Hi. You surprised me,” Yoongi replied, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. “I wanted to see Nari. I tried to text you, but-”

“I haven’t been paying attention to my phone,” He interrupted, his gaze dropping for a brief moment, a tired sigh escaping him.

You frowned slightly, unsure if it was the weariness or something else. “Yeah, I’m sure. But I was hoping she’d be here already.”

“We arrived a few hours ago,” He explained, his voice low, as if the weight of the past few hours still clung to him.

Silence stretched between you, the kind that felt heavy, as if neither of you knew quite how to fill it.

“How are you?” You said, taking a step closer to him.

“I’m okay now that she’s home,” Yoongi admitted, his voice low and strained. “But… I was so stressed I thought I was going to pass out.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a pang of helplessness surging through you. You fought the urge to pull him into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t erase the exhaustion carved into him.

“What exactly happened?” You pressed gently, your tone careful.

Yoongi exhaled, leaning briefly against the doorframe, his gaze distant. “She slipped and landed in the worst possible way. Her hip… it didn’t just crack. It broke clean through, but not in the middle, more on the edge, closer to where it connects to the rest of her leg. They said the pieces weren’t in the right place anymore, and they had to go in and put it back together” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “I wasn’t even with her. It was my aunt who called me, and by the time I got to the hospital, they were already preparing her for surgery.”

“How is she?” You asked softly, glancing at him.

“She’s... recovering,” Yoongi said, running a hand through his hair. “The doctors said the bone broke just outside the joint. They had to put this metal nail inside her thigh bone and screw it into place to hold everything steady so it can heal.”

“A nail?” You repeated, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “It’s supposed to keep the bone stable. They said it’s the best way to fix this kind of break. She’s in a lot of pain, though.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for her... or for you.” You took a step closer, watching the weariness in his expression.

Yoongi let out a shaky breath. “She’s tough, though. Tougher than me, that’s for sure.”

You kept silent for a second. “Can I see her?” You almost whispered, unsure, but he quickly moved away from the door.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, suddenly remembering you were still outside of his home. “Come in, she’ll be happy to see you. I’ll let her know first.”

You stood in the living room as you watched him disappear through the hall where both of their rooms were, trying to avoid any kind of memory you had from a few nights ago. Why did you have to think of that in moments like these?

After a few seconds, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s face from the hall, telling you to follow him. You followed his voice, entering Nari’s room without making much noise. 

She was laying in bed with a blanket draped over her legs. She looked up as you entered, her eyes lighting up with a welcoming smile that made her seem so much like Yoongi, and yet, not entirely. She was clearly in pain, but her cheerfulness masked it, her eyes twinkling with the same kindness you remembered. 

“Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Nari said warmly, her voice a little strained but genuine. “I didn’t expect you to drop by.”

“How come? I wanted to come check on you.” You smiled, taking a cautious step closer “Simon and my mom, too. They all want to see you.”

“Oh, they don’t have to!” She waved off “I’ll be on my feet in no time, this was nothing.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before shifting to Yoongi, who was quietly standing behind you. 

You glanced over at him, catching the flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he quickly masked it. You wanted to ask him what was going on, but you didn’t dare in front of his mother. Instead, you focused on her, trying to offer a comforting smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Nari,” You said, your voice soft but sincere. “It must’ve been scary.”

“Oh, I’ve had worse.” She shifted her weight slightly, and you could see a flash of discomfort cross her face, but she quickly masked it with another smile. “It’s just a little fracture. Nothing to worry about, really.”

Yoongi shifted, his hands gripping the keys in his pocket, eyes flicking towards his mom before looking back at you. “The doctors said she needs to use a wheelchair for a while.” He interrupted, as if he was trying to remind his mom rather than telling you about it. 

Nari gave him a sharp look, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a softer, more forced smile. “I’m okay. Really, I’m tougher than I look.” She looked up at you.

You nodded, but something in the way she looked at Yoongi made you pause. There was an underlying tension there, something unspoken. You weren’t sure if it was because of the accident or something else, but it felt like you had stepped into a moment that wasn’t meant for you.

“I’ll be fine,” Nari repeated, as if to reassure both you and Yoongi. “I’m just happy to see you two together. It’s been so long since you visited.”

You smiled, trying to match her enthusiasm. “We should all get together sometime soon, once you’re feeling better.”

You could tell she was trying to downplay everything, to act like it was just another ordinary day. But the quiet discomfort in the room, the way Yoongi stood slightly apart from her, told a different story.

You watched Yoongi shift again, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cleared his throat. “We should let you rest, Mom.”

Nari smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Yes, yes. I’ll be fine. You two go on.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in the room like a heavy cloud, but not wanting to draw it out any longer. As you followed Yoongi out, you could still feel in your stomach the feeling you had when you left your house earlier.

Yoongi held the door open for you as you stepped out of the living room, your footsteps soft against the wooden floor. Neither of you said anything as you walked to the elevator at the end of the hall, the silence stretching between you like an invisible thread. Yoongi pressed the call button, and the sound of Yoongi opening the door of the elevator was the only sound that broke the stillness.

Inside, the faint hum of the elevator motor filled the space as you both stood side by side. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers on the wall.

“You okay?” You asked, looking at his soft face. He glanced up, his eyes sidetracking towards your lips before looking away. 

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He simply said. 

Yoongi stepped out first, waiting for you to follow before leading the way through the lobby and towards the glass doors at the exit. The cold morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, sharp and bracing after the warmth of the building. Yoongi stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, his breath visible in the frosty air as he exhaled. You tightened your own coat around you, walking alongside him as the wind tugged at your hair.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” You wondered out loud, watching him closing the door behind him, clutching the keys in his hand as he leaned against the stair railing beside you. 

“Nothing, she just…keeps picking fights with me. She’s been unbearable since the surgery.” He sighed, frustration heavy in his voice. “She tries to tell everyone it’s nothing but it’s not like that. She didn’t like it when the doctor told her she had to use a wheelchair, she refused.” 

You looked up at him. Yoongi had always been taller than you, making you tilt your chin just slightly to meet his gaze. “She needs time to process it. You know how she is—she’s never liked being helped. Just give her space, and she’ll come around. Don’t be too hard on her, okay?”

He let out a sharp breath. “It’s her who’s being hard on me,” He muttered. He shook his head, the frustration evident in his eyes. “Did you see the way she looked at me? The only reason she was being nice was because you were there.”

“I know it’s tough,” You said softly, “but she’s not used to this. Just a few days ago, everything was normal, and now she’s facing this huge change—she has to use a wheelchair for who knows how long. The meds might be messing with her mood too.”

“The meds are driving her crazy,” He affirmed.

“Well, see? It’s not your fault.” You said, reaching your hand to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing everything you can, she will come around.” 

Yoongi closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips close to his face, there was something about your touch that burned him through his skin, pulling him into a trance. 

A silence settled between the two of you, you shared a glance with him, your eyes meeting each other like a secret. It was like you could see everything that happened in his room a few nights ago just by looking him in the eye, like every kiss and every word were still palpable in the air. 

On the surface, Yoongi knew he should be worried about other things, that his mother was the most important thing right now, but in the back of his mind there was you, laying on his bed as you begged him for one more kiss, one more touch. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time to be trapped inside his room with you alone again, like you were the only people in the world. 

“Pinky, I-”

“Yoongi-” 

The words crashed into each other, a quiet storm of unspoken things hanging in the air between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid that night pressing down on the space between your breaths.

“We…” He tried to say, but he cut himself.  “I’m sorry for not calling.”

You shook your head, waving it off “It’s okay, I understand. I just wanted to check on both of you.”

“I wanted to call you,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. “And I wanted to see you… but I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, Yoongi…” You murmured, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, his eyes avoiding yours like they were afraid of something.

“Pinky, about the trip to the beach-”

You cut him off gently, your voice firm despite the softness. “I’m not thinking about the trip to the beach.” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “I was worried about your mom, I was worried about you.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, his voice tight as he looked away. 

“Yoongi, the trip can wait.” You insisted, but something told you that this wasn’t about the trip 

He inhaled sharply, his breath shaky, as if the words were caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. His gaze darted to the side, then back to you.

“That’s the thing, Pinky, I don’t think it can.” His voice cracked slightly, a crack in the armor he'd been holding up. Suddenly, you felt your chest tighten, the words weighing heavily in the air. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this. I’ve been doing some thinking in the hospital, and I-” He paused, his breath hitching like he was trying to swallow something painful. “I don’t know how to say this, but maybe… we should leave this right here.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, the sudden shift in his words making it feel like the ground had disappeared beneath you. “I- What do you mean?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice barely audible now, thick with regret. His eyes flicked away, unable to meet yours. “For everything. I wanted to call you and explain… but I couldn’t. I was afraid you thought I used you and-”

“I never thought that.” You rushed to say, confused. “Why would I?”

Yoongi looked at you, at a loss for words, but he couldn’t stand holding your gaze for more than one second, even if you desperately tried to meet his eyes, as if that could make him make some sense. 

“I don’t know, I-” He struggled to say. “I just wanted you to know that I said the truth the other night, you know that? I wasn’t lying but-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, your heart racing as a wave of nausea hit you.

He exhaled sharply, eyes dropping to the floor, still refusing to meet your eyes.. “Pinky… whatever happened these past few weeks… it shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was low, almost regretful. You felt a cold chill creep into your bones. The air between you had shifted, heavy and suffocating.

“Yoongi, why are you saying this?” 

You took a step closer to him, but you felt his breath hitching, attempting to run away from you. 

“Because I can’t leave to follow you, I can’t run away with you.” He firmly said, breaking your heart into a million pieces. “For the sake of everyone.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “For the sake of everyone, or for your sake only?” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to shield yourself from the cold that wasn’t just coming from the air. It was coming from him, too.

He threw his head back in frustration, closing his eyes, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. He wasn’t willing to turn this into a fight, but he clearly underestimated you if he thought you would just stay silent.

“Pinky, don’t make things more difficult.” He begged, but that only made it worse. 

You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped you. “Yeah, but I can’t, can I? That’s always been my job, right?” You said, your voice trembling just enough to betray your anger. “I always have to make things difficult.”

He shook his head, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “C’mon, I didn’t say that. You’re making things up.”

You tried to maintain your composure, but the effort was slipping away. The knot in your throat grew tight, and it felt like your chest was about to crack open. Maybe it was in your nature to make this more difficult, to create a fight, to be resentful, but you couldn’t just stand there, pretending this wasn’t nonsense, that what he said wasn’t completely different from what he said nights ago. You couldn’t pretend this wasn’t hurting. 

“Then, what is it?” You asked “It’s not me? It’s you?” 

The silence that followed was overwhelming, the weight of his words settling in the space between you like a wall.

“It’s us.” He pronounced, his words hitting the air like thunder, reverberating down the empty street, carving themselves deep into your chest.  “We are different, we- I can’t.”

For a moment it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just his voice. You swallowed hard, the burn of tears creeping into the corners of your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “Wasn’t it always like that?” You managed to choke out, your voice trembling, raw with hurt. “Because this isn’t what you told me the other night. What was it? That you wanted me? That you couldn’t stop dreaming of me? That I was the solution to all your problems?” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “Am I just supposed to walk away and accept it was all bullshit?”

You felt your cheeks burning red and your hands trembling as you closed them into fists. Your heart pounded so loudly in your ears you could barely hear your own words anymore.  Handling your emotions the correct way wasn’t one of your qualities, because you hadn’t even realized you were raising your voice until Yoongi took a step forward, the heat of his presence forcing your breath to catch in your throat. You faltered, trying to steady yourself, but it was impossible.

“I told you I wasn’t lying to you.” He reminded you, his voice filled with emotions. “It wasn’t bullshit, I meant what I said, you are a dream of a girl, Pinky. But you… you drive me crazy.” He sighed, as if the words were tearing him apart. “Even when everything that was happening with my mom, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you, do you know how fucked up that sounds? I can’t let you do that to me.”

“What?” You spat. “Would that be so bad?”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shutting briefly, as if to block out the entire world. “Please, you know this.” His voice was strained now, almost pleading. “We can’t ignore it forever, I have to stop it now. You could never stay in one place, and even if I wanted to run away with you, I can’t. I have to stay here.”

“I was not going to run away. Not with you here.”

“And next year?” he asked, his tone sharp with frustration. “What happens next year? Or in five years? When you realize this isn’t what you wanted and you pack your bags again?—because I know you, do you think I don’t? You can’t stay, you never do. And I can’t leave.”

It was as if every cruel word the world had ever aimed at you, every harsh truth or bitter lie, was now coming from the lips of the one person who had always been on your side. You could understand that Yoongi was sad, tired and angry, but this was crossing the line. 

You tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway, unable to defend yourself. What could you say? That it wasn’t true? Betraying your dignity and trying to convince him that staying with you was worth the shot? That it wasn’t as crazy as he made it sound? No. You had spent your life waiting for people to like you, but today you were stopping it. You stood there, not willing to wipe your tears and pointed to his chest, angry.

“God, you’re a fucking coward.” Your breath trembled, uneven, trying to hold it together.

“Pinky, please,” He breathed out, his voice low and desperate as he reached for your face.

“Don’t call me that.” You took a step back, shaking your head, your chest tightening. “I know you, too, you know? And I know this isn’t about me this time, this time it’s about you being afraid like you’ve always been.”

“Stop, please,” he begged again, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. But you couldn’t stop; anger burned through you, mixing with the ache in your chest, with the tears threatening to spill. You were angry, you were upset, you were fucking sad.

“Why?” you snapped, your voice sharp and trembling. “Is this not what you expected me to say? Or did you want me to admit that you’re right, like you always are—that I’m unpredictable, and a mess, and that I just don’t fit into your life like a normal girl would?”

“Y/n, I didn’t say any of that.” He replied softly, his eyes wide and pained, his shoulders sinking under the weight of your words.

The sound of your name ringed in your ears, but you ignored it. He didn’t say that but that was exactly what he meant, he couldn’t deny that.  

“You know, I don’t even care about the road trip,” You said, your voice trembling with restrained frustration as you stepped down one step, still facing him. “There would have been plenty of chances for that, fine. Whatever.” You paused, gripping the railing, your breath unsteady. “And your mom? Of course she needs your help now, I wasn’t gonna complain, how could I? And next year? Sure, she’ll probably still need you. But in five years?” You looked straight at him, your eyes sharp, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “In five years, your mom’s going to hate that the only thing you ever did with your life was take care of her.”

Your voice cracked then, but you didn’t stop. “And me? Even if I’d love to do it, I won’t be here to tell you I told you so.”

Yoongi’s face was a mix of disbelief and hurt, the corners of his mouth tightening as if trying to hold back a response that wasn’t coming. You turned around, not sparing him another glance as you almost ran towards your home, ignoring your name being called over and over again from the voice of the man who just broke your heart. 

Yoongi was painfully always there in your life. He was always the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have. When you turned the corner at the end of the street, determined not to look back, you decided that maybe now was time for you to accept it and finally move on. 

taglist: taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie @jalexad

[angelst4re]

Hi angel 💕 Could you write a counterfeit jamie smut where the reader used to be friends with benefits with him and he comes back to her town on tour and she ends up in his hotel room if you know what I mean 🤭I love you’re writing <3

hi lovely!! thank you so much!! im sooo sorry for making you wait so long THIS REQUEST IS LITERALLY FROM FEBRUARY??? i hope it's worth the wait :)

Addiction- Counterfeit!Jamie x Reader

warnings: NSFW!!! this contains smut so if that makes you feel uncomfortable then please don't read!! <3

notes: it's been a while... for the last month i've been so busy and when i haven't been busy i've been thinking about noah sebastian and/or cillian murphy (jamie i am sorry i'm in a hoe phase rn!!) but i also have a henry creel drabble to post tomorrow as well so keep an eye out for that :) ALSO I WANNA SAY A BIG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!! (p.s. this isn't proof read and i wrote this over the span of three weeks so i apologise for any mistakes!!)

When you received the message from Jamie telling you he’s playing a show in your city, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were out for lunch with two of your friends, who were questioning the wide grin on your face. 

“Oh, I just know she’s texting Matt again,” one of your friends smirked, eyeing you up, “are you ever going to meet up with him? You’ve been talking for almost 3 months?!”

“Oh, no, it’s Jamie. He’s playing here with his band next month, he wants me to come and see them. He’s sent two tickets, I could ask for an extra one if you wanted to come with me-”

“That’s perfect! You can ask Matt to come with you!” Your other friend suggested, although it came off as more of a demand. 

“But what if he asks about how I know Jamie? I couldn’t really explain that on a first date.” 

“Well, just tell him he’s a friend, maybe leave out the ‘with benefits’ part.”

“We stopped that a while ago, actually. I haven’t seen him for almost a year, we’re kinda just friends now.” 

“Then that’s your story sorted then,” your friend grinned, picking your phone up from the table and placing it in your hand, “now tell Matt he’s got a concert to go to.” 

You were surprised when Matt texted back, telling you he’s never heard of counterfeit before, but he’ll happily listen to them and come with you. You felt a little bad for lying to him, telling him you had no one else to come with you as your friends were working that weekend. 

On the evening of the show, Matt came to pick you up. You would’ve usually dressed quite casual for a concert, specifically one of Jamie’s, but this was also a date. You stepped out of your house wearing a black dress, comfortable shoes and a cute handbag to match the outfit. 

“You look amazing,” Matt said, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “let’s get going!” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“That guy right there,” Matt shouted through the noise, pointing at Jamie, “is your friend?” His mouth was open in disbelief as you nodded your head. He had already had four beers, and you had only been here just over an hour. 

“Yeah, I met him at one of the restaurants I used to work at. It’s a funny story actually, some crazy fangirls were waiting outside for him to leave so I kinda helped him ‘escape’ through the back…” You trailed off as you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying, his attention was elsewhere. 

“Cool, I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?” 

You shook your head and watched as he disappeared off into the crowd. 

Your eyes were drawn to Jamie, reminiscing on the times you had spent together. The times your bodies were intertwined beneath the covers and the times you spent laughing together in the car. You missed him, it was truly like it was a ‘right person, wring time’ kind of situation. 

Time passed and passed and you realised Matt hadn’t come back yet. Surely the line wasn’t that long? You just assumed he had gone to the bathroom, especially after drinking that much. But another 15 minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, so you went to search for him. You assumed he wouldn’t have wandered far from the bar, so you were heading in that direction. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were pushed up against the hotel door, slamming it shut as his lips met yours. One of your hands found his hair whilst the other was grasping at his shirt, as if you were hanging on to him for your life. The familiar smell of his aftershave, mixed with cigarettes gave you a feeling of nostalgia, and it was as if you were experiencing deja vu. 

His hands were on your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher, until his cold hands met your bare hips. 

“Jamie,” you gasped, pulling back for air. As if he couldn’t take his mouth off you, his lips were now on your neck, kissing and nibbling the spot he knew would make your knees buckle. 

The last thing you expected tonight was to leave the show with the singer. With Jamie. But after you went to look for Matt, you caught him with his tongue down another girl's throat. A part of you felt sick, betrayed, but another part of you felt relieved. However, you would never admit that’s how you felt, especially not to your friends. 

Jamie had given you a backstage pass, and cleared it with security before the show. You knew how the night was going to end as soon as you received the text from him. 

“Why does this always happen,” Jamie asked rhetorically, against the skin of your shoulder as he continued to pepper kisses, “always end up coming back to you.” 

You smile at his words, it was true. The two of you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other when you were together. 

Before you could process what had happened, you were pushed against the table, and Jamie took your thighs, lifting you to sit on the edge of it as he got down to his knees. 

His kisses began at your ankle, and he looked up at you as they got closer and closer. Your calves, your knees and eventually your upper thigh. 

“I’ve missed you.” He confessed as he held your thighs open, one finger pushing your underwear to the side. 

He dragged a finger through your slick folds, earning a sigh from you as he grazed your clit. You looked down to see a smirk plastered on his face. His eyes briefly met yours before he placed a kiss over your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it as you dug your nails into the underneath of the wooden table you were sitting on. Jamie quickly noticed this, and the hand that was holding your legs open for him guided your hands back to his hair. 

“Shit.” You gasped as you felt a finger gently press into your entrance, his lips now wrapped around your clit, sucking and nipping at it. “M-more…” You managed to whisper. 

“That’s not how we ask for something, is it, darling?” Jamie teased, a devilish glint in his eyes as two of his fingers pressed into you, agonisingly slow. 

“Please,” you whimpered, “I need… I want more, please, Jamie.” 

Jamie chuckled, his thumb now replacing his mouth on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He stood back up, towering over you before leaning down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself as he did so. 

“I’ve missed hearing you beg,” he whispered, “come on, sweetheart, let go for me. I know you're close.” 

He was right. You swore he knew your body better than you did. 

You could feel the knot in your belly tightening, getting ready to snap at any moment. 

“You’re making such a mess, y’know that? My messy girl, can feel you dripping down my hand,” you could tell what he was doing, he was trying to push you to the edge, he knew what effect his words had on you, and he was taking advantage of that, “that’s it, angel. You can do it, cum for me.” 

And that did it. 

Your head was thrown back, your thighs trying to close around him as he continued to work you through your orgasm. The moans falling from your lips were muffled by his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

His fingers slipped out of you and he reached for your thighs, his slick coated fingers leaving your skin sticky as he pressed his body against yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bed. 

As your back hit the mattress, he began to undress. You took off your ruined underwear before you reached for your dress, to slip it off, but he called out to stop you. 

“Hey, leave it on. It looks so fucking sexy.” He growled, unbuckling his belt to let his trousers fall to the ground. 

He kneeled on the bed and shuffled his way between your legs, holding them open for him as he leaned down to kiss you once again. 

“Jamie, please.” You whined, lifting your hips to try and get him to do something. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back, darling. It’s been a while since I’ve…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as you reach your hand between your bodies, palming his hard cock through his boxers. 

He grabs your wrists, his fingers digging into the skin sure to leave bruises for you to look back on in the days to come. 

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch, now, did I?” His eyes had darkened with need and lust, and the way his face twisted into a devilish smile made a whimper slip from your lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you baby. I knew all those years ago I had ruined you for any other man, this just proves it, hm?” 

With one hand pinning your arms above your head, the other one comes down to drag his thumb over your bottom lip, before you welcome him into your mouth, gently sucking on the tip of his thumb. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “keep your hands here, okay? I know you will, you’re my good girl, right?” 

You nod your head and manage to say a muffled ‘yes’ as his thumb presses down on your tongue as he uses his now spare hand to push his boxers down, letting his cock free from its restraints. 

He wastes no time, swiping his fingers over your slick, spreading it over his dick before pumping himself a couple times. His breathing is heavy as he lines himself up with you, your hips squirming as you wait for him to finally push in, but he takes his time teasing you beforehand. When the tip finally slips into you, you both let out a moan and his head falls forwards, buried where your neck meets your shoulder. 

It’s clear that neither of you have had any action lately, as you both need to take a moment before Jamie begins to move. You dig your nails into the pillow as he begins to slowly move his hips. 

His hand that was once over your mouth trails down and rests on your neck, applying a little pressure as your eyes fall shut. You feel how his cock slides into you, nudging spots inside you that made you shiver. He would pull back out until only the tip was left inside, before fucking back into you, getting progressively rougher. 

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” He said before leaning down to capture your lips with his. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping your hands planted above your head as you melted into the kiss. You took advantage of the use of your legs, if you couldn’t touch him with your hands. 

One of Jamie’s hands slid between your bodies to find your clit again, using his thumb to try and bring you the edge, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. In the past, you and Jamie went maybe 2 or 3 rounds sometimes in one night. However, it was different tonight. You hadn't seen each other in a long time, let alone had sex. 

His pace began to quicken, his thrusts getting rougher and rougher. He buried his face in your neck once more and you couldn’t help but tangle your fingers into his hair, gently tugging on the blonde locks. 

“Shit,” he gasped, masked by a dark chuckle as he kissed your neck. 

“J-Jamie…” Your mind was too clouded by everything to even think about forming a proper sentence, but Jamie knew you and your body better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. 

You knew he was getting close by the way his cock twitched inside you. Your grasp on his hair tightened as you felt your high getting closer and closer. 

“Inside.” Was the final word you managed to mutter into his ear before you came undone, your legs locking around him, making sure he wouldn’t pull out before you came down from your high. 

As you were beginning to catch your breath, your muscles relaxing as you lay there blissed out, felt him twitch in you once more, cumming inside you with a moan, followed by your name. You rocked your hips as he stilled inside of you, milking his cock of every last drop. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, follow by a chuckle as he smiled lazily down at you, “you don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”

[allthefujoshiunite]

Sorry I hit the ask button before finishing. My fav trope are age gap ( > 5 years and even more), height difference and teacher-student relationship. Do you have any BL that fits either or mix of the above? I don't mind smut (explicit) but not a fan of pwp (just smut story).

Again, sorry if I'm too demanding, hope you have a good day @allthefujoshiunite 🍀🌼

Aaand we’re back. You literally listed some of my fave tropes there so BOY do I have recommendations! Not a fan of PWP either, so rest assured.

Let’s get this party started ~

Age gap + height difference + teacher/student

Young Bad Education (Dayoo): I fell in love with Mizusawa’s eyes on the cover and bought the volume in Japanese years ago without an ounce of idea what the story was about. No regrets. Young Bad Education and its continuation Young Good Boyfriend will feed your soul. You can read it on Manga Planet (Futekiya).

Hitorijime My Hero (Memeco Arii): This title is a classic so you might have already seen it but just in case. Hitorijime My Hero has an anime adaptation as well (I’m anime-only) and the manga has a spin-off with the side couple as far as I know. The height difference is less pronounced here but if you’re like me and you love delinquents as well, this will be your jam.

The Trees in Spring (Nakaoka Naka): I’m kind of cheating but I’ll do anything to recommend this title! MCs here are a teacher and student, but the teacher isn’t teaching the student, they meet each other in a different way. I have reviewed this title before and take any chance I can get to recommend it, so there you go!

Age gap + teacher/student

Warbler, Sing of Spring (Nago Nayuta): I felt like they don’t have height difference (and checked the first chapter again) but the MCs are always drawn in weird angles so I’m not sure. Another title with the delinquent sprinkled on top. Really enjoyed reading this, Nago Nayuta’s works have a cuteness I like and the uke in Warbler is kind of unhinged xD Love him!

The Neighbor I Desire (Makoto): This one started off a bit weird for me but I can assure you it’s super cute! I have written a review before so if you want more details, here you go.

The Good Teacher (Eeej): Another title I reviewed before. It’s pretty, fun but short and while the plot is not this series’ strongest point, I think it’s worth giving a shot.

Age gap + height difference

Love for Sale (Dal Hyeon-ji): It’s official, you guys. I will literally disintegrate if I don’t recommend Love for Sale, the doctor said it not me. But honestly, do yourself a solid one and read it if you still haven’t. The pinnacle of ultimate goodness. I wrote on LfS before but since the post contaşns spoilers and is more about sugar dating than a review, I’ll spare you the link. On Lezhin.

Love Me Doctor (ANA): Another series I constantly recommended on Twitter and got a couple of unassuming, kind-hesrted people to read it with me as well. Focuses on a university student and a urology doctor he had tovisit for his ED. If you’re comfortable reading a title where a doctor kind of uses his position to get to know a patient and stepping over boundaries, please give it a chance! TOTALLY worth the time. On Lezhin.

On or Off (A1): Can’t say I understood the drama with the artist and the series being wrapped up rather quickly, but I read this popular webtoon with joy! Not as big of a fan as the rest of the BL fans but if youdig these two tropes I think it’s worth checking out. On Tappytoon, but I think TOKYOPOP has released it in print.

Metro (Chika Hongo): This is more of a dramatic title, where a high school student is being touched regularly by the same man on the train and he likes it, until one day he follows him home upon being invited. If you prefer a story that’s laced with trauma and flawed characters, this is for you! On Manga Planet.

Pound Cake on a Sunday (Amida Shizuku): Man this series is SUPER funny that I had to reread today! A father and son lives alone after the mother’s passing and one day, out of the blue, the father starts complimenting the new transfer to the company about how he’s so beautiful or saying how shiny his hair is. Is his father gay? Did he finally lose it? Read and find out! Very different from your usual BL, worth your time!

Bonus - I’m a Dom and I Want You To Stroke My Head (KINACO): Has dom/sub universe (a big fan) height difference as well, but it’s a teacher x teacher pairing.

Whew! Sorry it took a lot of time to write because it’s not so easy to format these posts on the app, it seems. I hope you like my selection and as always, let me know if you liked anything from the list! I’m always eager to know what people think after reading something I’ve recommended. See you around!

[yeehawbvby]

Dropping in out of nowhere here to ask YOU! yes you dear blogger, about your ocs. Please tell me about em :3

OH BOY I have so many uhhh. I'll just give a quick rundown + lore posts for the OCs who have one, since you didn’t ask anything specific :D May or may not put this in my pinned as a general OC masterlist too while I'm at it

Pokemon -> Max - Lore post + Visual reference - 25-30 years old, lives in Galar. She works as a gym trainer, first at the Dark gym and then in Circhester's Ice gym. She prefers Ghost types above all else but she's pretty well-rounded! She’s sweet and timid but also a little gremlin and I love her dearly

TLoZ -> Ethie - Lore post - Something about soulmates through time or whatever with Link (platonic or romantic, depending on the timeline). Descendent of Malon, although I might change her canon so that she just was Malon lol. She's also Beedle's sister! Most of the lore I've established is of BotW/TotK times, where she's a traveling blacksmith with a home-base in Hateno.

Spiderverse -> Apple Spider - Lore post + Visual Reference - A little shit who accidentally ruined her canon and destroyed her earth. Now she lives permanently in Nueva York/in the Spider Society building. She's a master in the art of being annoying but lovable, and takes on kinda the wine aunt/bestie cousin role for a bunch of the younger Spiders.

Sun Haven -> Autumn - Visual reference - Half-moth amari (amari are anthros, basically), and half-elf! She's gentle and kind. Loves just hanging out with her animals and helping people around each city, rather than actually doing much farming. Winds up making permanent residence in Nel'Vari, a hidden elven village west of Sun Haven.

Sun Haven -> Marlowe

- An aquatic amari of the shark variety! Kind of a piece of shit unless you’re important to them. They’re messy and loud and blunt but they’d literally do anything for those they care about (in the end, though, the person they care for most is themself). Moved to Sun Haven to be closer to water and become a monster hunter and adventurer. They were previously a tattoo artist in The Big City

Baldur's Gate 3 -> Lilith - Visual reference - A resistance Durge! Was besties with Orin and on the verge of marriage with Gortash before being lobotomized and tadpoled. Now she just wants to right her wrongs, or whatever -- she's absolutely horrified by her Urge.

Baldur's Gate 3 -> Aether - Another Durge! Same past as Lilith, except during the events of the game, she begins sorta morally grey and evolves into a frickin monster. She's one of those "I'll hurt everyone except the people I love types," and genuinely wanted to rule Baldur's Gate alongside Gortash. After The Brain(tm) offed him though she kinda just went apeshit and embraced Bhaal.

Pikmin 4 -> Ed - Visual reference - I don't have much lore for her lol.. she mostly does night expeditions because she prefers to be nocturnal and likes hanging out with the glow pikmin. She's super sweet but bad at expressing her feelings, so nobody really knows it unless they give her a chance to open up! Her affection can come off as aggression but she just doesn’t really know how to portray herself

FFXV -> Mari Vitrum

- “One of the guys,” but not in an annoying pick-me kind of way and more so the constantly-being-a-little-shit kind of way. She was a close friend of Gladio’s from childhood, which is how she met Noctis and eventually became part of his crew. She’s not a fan of Ignis (except for his cooking) so they kinda just tolerate each other lol, she and Noct bicker like siblings, and she’s besties with Gladio and Prompto. She prefers to fight with daggers, taking more of an assassin approach and fights SUPER recklessly. Will easily have to use several phoenix downs during tougher battles, partially bc she gets dagger-happy and partially because if anyone’s gonna die, she’d rather it be her than her friends.

Stardew Valley -> Elise

- Partial visual, since I haven’t drawn her fully yet

- A lot like Sebastian in that she’s spent most of her life staying indoors nerding out, looks almost sickly pale, and wears black hoodies a lot. She only moved to Pelican Town to escape Joja and Zuzu’s high rent, really. She’s more focused on having a ton of animals (mostly to hang out with) and only keeps a few small patches of crops. Has her nose pierced and 3 ear piercings on her right side, but only 1 ear piercing on her left, in short because she got lazy. She has a vampire bite tattoo on the left side of her neck and constantly gets roasted for it (she goes along with it like a champ), as well as a sloppy self-made stick and poke tattoo over some self harm scars that says “I lived, bitch.” Still unsure of where I’m gonna plop that down on her

Fields of Mistria -> Kimi and December

-> a link to their intro post <-

[lovimagines]

Assumptions

[Alpha!Tomura x Fem!Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dabi]

[Part 1 of ?]

Summary: You find yourself having fun at an arcade when a stranger approaches you, offering you a position within his team. Things go south, quickly.

Warnings: A/B/O, possible canon divergence, swearing. (Please politely let me know if I missed something/need to tag anything else!!)

Word Count: ~1,900

A/N: The ‘____’ is your name! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A/B/O!! I’m very new to it, and have done research, but I’m still learning! Also quick note, reader is close to Dabi’s age in this! At the very least, reader is meant to be 18+! I also haven’t written for BNHA in literally 4ish years? So... please go easy on me! One last thing, reader is written as neurodivergent! This is a kind of a self indulgent fic, but i wanted to leave it sort of vague so a lot of people could read it! -Beth

The universe seemed to be out to get you. For the longest time you assumed you were quirkless, you assumed you would be an alpha, and you assumed you’d have your best friend forever.

Within a long, drawn out several years, those things were proven to be very wrong. You lost your best friend. You had a horribly powerful Quirk. And once you hit puberty, it was revealed you were an Omega.

Life couldn’t get more rough. So you thought.

U.A. High School seemed to be a good thing that could be going for you, when you were younger. But, once you failed the hero exam and were told you too… ‘Unstable’, you were sent packing. Your Quirk was ruthless, and very much so unstable, but you thought someone would be able to help you with that.

Years passed and when you did not show any interest in any of the alphas that would present themselves to you, your parents were growing tired. Eventually you ended up moving out and living with Quirk (curse) on your own.

It proved difficult but you did it, all by yourself for a while there. And then your life is completely flipped again when a villain presents himself to you, asking for you to join him and his cause.

You hum to yourself as you walk around an almost empty arcade. You don’t allow yourself out often, due to the hell that is your Quirk, so when you do let yourself enjoy the world around you, you soak it all up.

“Hey lady!” A kid screams from the other side of the arcade. There aren’t many ladies in the arcade, causing you to turn around. You look and some boy is rushing you. You reel back and cock your head at the kid. He gets to you, bends over and catches his breath, then begins to talk once more. “Is that your initials on the race car game?”

You snort, “Yeah, how did you know?”

“I saw you use that thing the other day. I wanna race you. I wanna beat you!” The kid sounds determined. You only nod and let him lead you to the game. You take a seat on the metal, barely padded chair and grab the steering wheel of the game. The little boy gets on the game connected to yours, right beside you, and readies himself.

You start the ‘race’ and are quick to get in the lead. Within the time limit you destroy that little kid. You notice once the game is finished he is the third on the leaderboard. Someone’s under him.

“Hey kid.” A voice comes from behind the both of you and you turn around, “Get up, it’s my turn.”

The kid doesn’t question it and he quickly excuses himself. The tall man sits down, and looks over at you. His face is obscured by his hood and his long, blue hair, but you can definitely feel his eyes on you. Your grip on the gaming wheel tenses and you avert your gaze.

You begin to get up, but you’re stopped. “No. I wanna beat you. You are the first one, right?”

He was second place. You groan. “What do I get if I win?”

“I don’t know, what do you want, _____?”

You freeze. You hadn't told him your name. With knuckles turning white, you stare at him for a moment. You look back at the screen in front of you and your jaw clenches tight. You inhale sharply through your nose and wonder how someone’s found you. You then have to rack your brain to remember if you took your suppressants that morning.

You're sure you have, so you calm down slightly, but you’re still terrified. You ignore his earlier comment and mumble a ‘let’s get started’ and both of you start the race. You're tense but you don’t let that throw you. You’re still able to win, and with ease.

“Ok. I won.” Your throat is dry, it’s hard to swallow, and your hands are aching. “Now what?”

“Well, it’s only polite if you let me talk to you after beating me that badly.”

You can’t tell if the niceness in his voice is forced or if he’s just… awkward. You want to believe it’s the ladder. You agree to talk to him and stand from the game. You look at him with big, worried eyes, and take a shaky breath.

“I’m not going to murder you or something,” His voice is low, gruff, and almost confused sounding.

“Oh.” That made you feel worse honestly. You’re back is to one of the walls and you inhale sharply. “Um, can I ask how you know me?” You are sure he hears you gulping down your spit. “I mean, I don’t even know you…”

The man gives you a wide smile and backs you into the wall. Your back hits the cool brick and you’re cornered. ‘Oh, and he isn’t going to kill me,’ you think to yourself. You watch his Adam's apple bob and feel yourself drawn to him momentarily. Something about him was enticing, but you couldn’t tell if it was your heat coming soon or if you just thought he was mysteriously sexy.

His hands grab either side of his hood and it drops, revealing blue hair and blood red eyes. You go to gasp, and a dry hand is covering your mouth, one of his fingers lifted above your skin. He shushes you and you’re struggling to breathe out of fear. You wanna just crumble, fold even, but you don’t. You stand frozen, watching the League of Villains leader staring at you. His eyes bore into yours.

“Sh, we don’t need to alert anyone, though I’m sure your Quirk could help us…” You only nod a little. “I have a proposition for you, ____,” his face drops, looking more serious now. You let him speak, without interrupting, you aren’t sure you want to say no anyway. “I know how the heroes treated you. You were thrown out like some animal.” Tears prick your eyes as he continues to speak, bringing memories up that you did not want to think about. “I know that must eat away at you.”

You shut your eyes, a couple tears falling from them.

“I think we can help you. Just as much as you could help us. We’d benefit each other greatly.”

It takes a moment. But you open your eyes once more and nod. You nod in agreement, in agreement of everything he just said. You were hurt by U.A, quite tremendously. And maybe, the league could help you with your so-called curse.

His hand falls from your mouth and he’s quick to pull his hood back up. You inhale sharply, your breath catching as you catch Tomura’s scent. You hoped and prayed that he could not catch your scent. You exhale slowly and look at Tomura with a curious gaze.

“Can we stay here a little longer though? I don’t get out often… And I wanted to get a prize before leaving.”

Tomura groans but gives you a reluctant nod. You smile at him and begin your walk towards the claw machines. Tomura is hot on your trail, watching you closely as you reach the machine. Without him even asking, you begin to tell him what you’re doing. “I like to get prizes every time I go out! They’re souvenirs, I guess.”

“Your Quirk makes it easier.”

You expect it to sound like a question, but he ends it as a fact. He knows. You are almost uneasy. He knows more about you than you’d like, and you’re far too scared to ask how.

“How does your Quirk work exactly?”

You wanted to hit him with a ‘how do you not know that?’ but you did not. “I’m unsure, really. I think about the outcomes, the probability and… it changes. I’m not very good at it, even now. Little things are easier, though. Like this-” You put a quarter in the claw machine, “Which one do you like?” Tomura gives you a confused look and points to a random plushie and you nod. “It’s easy to fix this outcome. It's easy to luck out here.”

The claw goes down on the plushie and you easily bring it to the opening. You drop it and bend over, pulling the plushie out. You stand up straight, Tomura’s eyes not leaving you. You extend your arm and give him a goofy grin. When he doesn’t immediately take it, you frown. You pull the plush back to you and Tomura cocks his head. You avert your gaze once again and Tomura is trying to process what just happened.

“You wanted to give me-” You interrupt Tomura with a nod. He sighs, “I thought you kept them.”

“No, not always. I mean, I love to collect things, but sometimes other people need them more than I do. I like to think that it gives them a bit of my luck.”

Tomura is unmoving for a moment. Wheels turning. You can tell he’s thinking really hard about something, but you’re unsure as to what.

“Give me that damned stuffed animal.” Tomura takes it from your grasp, fucking it under his arm as not harm it, and you smile widely at him. “Can we go now?”

You nod. Tomura leads you out and you two set out for wherever the hell he was taking you.

When you reach the hideout, you feel your nerves acting up. ‘Fuck, my suppressants,’ you can’t help but freeze in your spot. Tomura’s hand grips your waist and he begins to pull you forward. You start walking again, trying to push your worries and fears away.

The door of the hideout opens and you stand beside Tomura like some terrified animal. Everyone in the general vicinity looks at the both of you. Your wide fearful eyes, and Tomura pulling you closer, as if he didn’t want them to jump you.

“Who is she~” The blonde girl speaks up first.

“This is-”

Another person enters the room. A person covered with staples and scars. Another Alpha. Your eyes lock with his and for a moment, you feel nostalgia. And not the good kind. The kind that makes your stomach turn and tears well up in your eyes.

“Who the fu-” He stops himself. Tomura is glaring at him, and his eyes are just stuck on you. You want to run, but the grip Tomura has on your side is debilitating.

“_____.”

He knows you. More than Tomura does. He knows you.

Those eyes are unforgettable and you're suddenly very aware of why you felt so sick.

“Touya?”

“You two know each other?”

You’re stuck in your spot still. You watch as he begins to make his way towards you and you cower into Tomura’s side. You thought you would never fear your best friend. But you also thought you’d never, ever see him again.

“How the fuck did you find her?” He’s pissed. ”Get her the fuck out of here. Right now.”

You blink at him, tears forming. Tomura’s grip somehow tightens, and you’re left standing beside two alphas who look like they’re ready to rip each other’s throats out.

“No.” That’s all Tomura says at first. He isn’t backing down. There is a short pause, “This is _____, our newest team member.”

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze. 

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to. 

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away. 

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best. 

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head. 

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.” 

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.  

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer. 

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak. 

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap. 

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding. 

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying. 

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him. 

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job. 

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck. 

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you’re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again. 

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones. 

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly. 

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?” 

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.” 

[kthstrawberryshortcake]

BTS Reactions: Their S/O is Inexperienced Yet in Their Mid 20s

A/N: Here it is, my first post after my long-ass hiatus :) I hope you guys enjoy it! Requests are OPEN, please send some over! <3

PREMISE: OT7 reacting to finding out that their s/o is physically inexperienced relationship-wise / that this is their s/o’s first relationship despite them being in their mid 20s

A/N: I think a lot of people won't understand why this is a reaction in the first place (lol) but it can be super uncomfortable / awkward to have not dated / had any experience at that age, and a lot of people react badly to finding that out about someone. It's definitely an insecurity for a lot of people (myself included).

warning: mostly unedited due to my status as a trash gremlin

Jin:

Jin was completely shocked when he found out that you had never dated before him. Without thinking, he let this incredulity show on his face, total surprise evident and eyebrows raised. He was briefly silent in disbelief. You took that to mean that he thought you were weird now. You certainly felt that way.

Involuntarily, tears welled up in your eyes and Jin finally registered your distress. “What’s wrong?” he asked in concern, gently brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. You stared down at your feet, murmuring “You probably think I’m super strange now.” in explanation. Jin shook his head insistently, imploring that he didn’t find it weird at all.

“Honestly I was just shocked because I don’t know how you didn’t have people practically lining down the block to date you.” He explained, bringing a small smile back to your face. He pulled you into a hug, assuring you that he was in no hurry as long as he got to spend time with you.

Yoongi:

You and Yoongi were having a cozy night in and catching up on dramas. In the show you were presently watching, there was a character who was in her mid 20s that had never dated or even kissed anyone. Yoongi scoffed, rolling his eyes at this. “This is so unrealistic. Like come on, seriously? How do you get to be that age having never dated, having never even kissed somebody? It’s a completely absurd concept.”

You started to curl in on yourself, looking down with a tortured expression on your face. You were scared to explain the truth, fearful that if he knew he wouldn’t want you anymore. After a few minutes like that, Yoongi finally noticed your body language. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He inquired gently. How were you going to explain this to him?

“I, um… I guess I kind of freaked out when you were talking about the plot being unrealistic… You were so sure it couldn’t happen that you were annoyed by it. And then I really didn’t know how to tell you that the plot line we were discussing is literally the same as me. I’ve never dated before, you’re the first… And when you kissed me for the first time, that was my first kiss.” You took a deep breath, having exerted a lot of energy to force out your words.

Yoongi’s eyes lit up in recognition, then guilt crept onto his features. “Baby no, I’m so sorry, I completely overreacted about the show. I shouldn’t have said all that. I never wanted to hurt your feelings.” Yoongi admitted sincerely. He could tell that you felt a little bit better after that reassurance.

"It’s not a bad thing to do things on a different timeline. Plus, I got the honor of being your first boyfriend because of it. Maybe I’ll be your last.” He said the last part quietly, smirking softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Hoseok:

One of your favorite things about Hobi was his open and energetic attitude. He was truly one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and it had felt easy to become close with him. You hadn’t been dating long at all, but the ease of conversation made it feel like you’d known each other for years.

On one particular day, the two of you were chatting over a dinner of your favorite delivery food. Hoseok was in the middle of a funny story about one of his exes, never one for unnecessary social boundaries or conventions, which was fine because you were laughing like crazy at the ridiculous tale he told. Then he continued, though, to tell (admittedly hilarious and absurd) stories about some of his other exes. You were entertained, certainly, though the number of people he seemed to have dated was a bit intimidating to you.

When he finally finished, he asked about *your* exes, and that was where the issue really started. You deflected, not wanting to directly bring attention to the fact that you had never dated before him. He became oddly persistent, seeming frustrated that you didn’t want to share. Not wanting him to misunderstand why you weren’t telling him what he wanted to know, you sucked it up and told him that he was your first boyfriend.

He was extremely surprised, but seemed to understand now why you had been reluctant to answer his questioning. He apologized for going on about exes for so long, and for inadvertently making you nervous. You assured him that it wasn’t a big deal, especially since the only important thing was your relationship moving forward, not either of your pasts.

Namjoon:

When you and Namjoon had only been together a few weeks (after a much longer friendship prior to your romantic relationship beginning), you were spending a nice chill evening at home, eating takeout and chatting. The two of you seemingly never ran out of things to talk about, one of the things you loved about being with him.

You don’t even remember what had led to it, but partway through the evening, he made some dumb joke about virgins and you visibly froze. You had yet to tell him about your lack of experience, and now you were terrified to. Was that really something he’d be bothered by? You hadn’t thought so, but his joking around about it made you doubt that. You did your best not to show your panic, paying unusually close attention to the glass of water you were drinking.

Unfortunately for you, your discomfort was completely apparent, and Namjoon asked you if you were okay. You nodded with a forced smile, making him frown, easily able to tell that you weren’t. You were afraid to tell him now because if it really bothered him that much, maybe it would disappoint him. Maybe it’d be a dealbreaker and he would lose interest in you. Unsure what to do, you stared at your hands, tense and worried. Namjoon lightly rested his hand on your shoulder, staring at you in concern. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” He implored gently.

At that moment you could no longer hold in your emotion, your fear, and tears began to leak from your eyes as you sniffled, starting to shake a bit as you cried. You let him pull you into his arms, holding you close as you tried to stop crying. After a few minutes of you trying to calm down, aided by Joon’s sweet behavior,  he asked again what was wrong, insisting that you could tell him anything. Your chest felt tight, but you didn’t see a way out of sharing what had upset you.

When you explained what had happened, Namjoon felt horrible, cursing himself for having said something so dumb. He told you that it was just a stupid joke, not something he actually cared about, apologizing for upsetting you with his thoughtlessness. He made sure to assure you that it wasn’t a problem for him in the least, and that he was in no rush. Afterwards the whole situation seemed a little silly, though you remembered how genuinely panicked you had been only minutes before and shuddered. But things were immediately made better, the two of you snuggling up on the couch to watch a movie.

Jimin:

Your blossoming relationship with Jimin made you feel like you were walking on a cloud. He was incredibly sweet and so much fun to spend time with, you felt very lucky to be dating him now. Just to be sweet, you had picked up food from his favorite lunch place and were bringing it to him at the BigHit building, where he was currently busy at work in a practice room.

When you arrived, the door to the room was open, but you heard voices coming from inside. You only paused when you heard Jimin say your name. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, and you were about to announce your presence until you realized what he was saying. “You know I really like her, man, I just feel so unsure right now. There has been like, zero physical affection up to this point, nothing beyond hugs and holding hands.” Jimin grumbled, sounding irritated.

Tae hummed in acknowledgement, pausing before inquiring “So obviously you’re frustrated, but what are you thinking about it?” Jimin sighed. “Maybe she just doesn’t like me as much as I like her. I don’t want to think anything bad about her, but what if she’s playing me? Like, she doesn’t have actual feelings for me.” He sounded very down, clearly hurt by the mere possibility. At that moment you were so shocked by what you were hearing, you accidentally dropped the bag of takeout, hurrying to pick it up, but you’d already drawn attention to yourself.

Jimin and Taehyung looked beyond shocked to see you, and you realized you were crying. Taehyung excused himself to let the two of you talk. You walked farther into the room, approaching the boys. “I thought we could have lunch… I know you don’t take enough breaks, and I really wanted to see you…” You admitted quietly, unable to actually make eye contact.

“I just feel so horrible, it’s all my fault that you don’t even know how crazy I am about you. I can’t believe…. I let you be unsure of how much I care about you. It’s my fault, I’m so sorry Jimin.” By the end of what you were saying, you were holding back full sobs. Seeing how distressed you were, Jimin wasted no time in rushing to you and pulling you into his arms, hugging you close.

When you’d finally calmed down and stopped crying, you thought you owed him an explanation. “The lack of physical affection isn’t because I don’t like you. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anybody. I’ve just… never done anything. I haven’t even been in a relationship before now, it’s all new to me.” You admitted, feeling Jimin stiffen in your hug.

When you pulled back to look at him, tears were welling up in his eyes. “Oh, I’m the worst…” He muttered, feeling so guilty. “I was just frustrated, I was feeling insecure. Now that I know, I don’t mind one bit waiting for anything until you’re ready.” He assured you, planting a quick kiss on your forehead as you nodded understanding.

Tae:

It had only been a few weeks since Tae had confessed his feelings to you and the pair of you had started dating. Long before that, you’d been close friends, so you had spent a lot of time together over time. During one of your first few movie nights as a couple, things slowly began to escalate between you. You were sitting close together, seemingly focused on the film, when Tae moved to put an arm around you, pulling you closer so you were snuggled up beside him.

His eyes never left the screen, but there was a telltale little smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes a little, but you certainly didn’t mind. Despite it being such a small thing, at this stage in your relationship, this was a little bit thrilling. Soon you could feel him staring at you, and you turned your head to look back at him. His face had gotten much closer to yours than you’d expected. “…Tae?” you whispered, seeing both affection and mischief in his eyes. “Yes love?” He replied quietly in his gorgeous low voice, making you shiver just slightly.

You shook your head almost imperceptibly, and before you knew it his lips were on yours. You froze, all of this being completely new and foreign for you. Feeling you stiffen and fail to reciprocate the kiss, Tae pulled back to look at your face, wearing an expression of concern. “Um, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have just… assumed you felt the same way…” He muttered nervously, not making eye contact. “No!” You exclaimed a little louder than you meant to, quieting your voice to a near-whisper before speaking again.

“No, Tae, I do feel the same way! I really, really do. I love you. I have since we were just friends. I… I want you too. Just, um, I don’t know what to do…. That was my first kiss just now and I kind of just panicked and froze.” You confessed, watching the surprise and then recognition cover his face. That was all it took to take his unsure expression back to a smug smirk. Knowing the power his voice held over you, he leaned in close to you to speak in your ear when he said “in that case, I think we need some practice, don’t you?” Oh boy.

Jungkook:

You had been seeing Jungkook for a couple of months now and it was more than apparent that he was smitten with you (and vice versa). He complimented you frequently, his heart eyes for you always clearly on display. The only problem was the way you practically jumped away from him any time he got close to you. He had definitely noticed your weird behavior, and though you didn’t know what to do about it, you knew it was only a matter of time until he brought it up in conversation.

When that moment came, you had just clammed up and pulled back from him when he tried to put his arm around you while watching a movie. When you saw his expression in reaction, you felt immensely guilty, seeing the hurt on his face. After a moment it shifted to extreme irritation, him clenching his jaw in annoyance. “What’s your problem? I can’t get anywhere near you without you freaking out and moving away in a hurry.” You couldn’t make eye contact anymore at that point, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you were filled with the fear that you had ruined things with him.

“I… I don’t really know why I keep doing that, it’s just all new to me. I’ve never dated anyone before you so I kind of don’t know what to do with myself most of the time.” You confessed, trying to mask the sniffle that you gave as the first tear rolled down your cheek. Now it was Jungkook’s turn to feel guilty. He approached you slowly, asking you to look at him in a gentle voice. When you did, you saw that the irritation was completely gone, replaced with remorse and fondness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I could have just asked like an actual adult rather than how I behaved. I guess I was just insecure, afraid that you don’t like me in the same way I like you.” He explained, and you nodded slightly in understanding.

“That’s not it at all! I really *really* like you. A relationship is just totally uncharted territory for me and I handled it wrong. I should’ve just told you.” You sighed, the heaviness leaving your heart as an adorable bunny smile grew on his face. “Uncharted territory, huh? Well let me be your travel guide. We can be explorers together.” You rolled your eyes at his dumb joke, but smiled in spite of how silly his words were. You felt like now, with it all out in the open, things could be good with the two of you.

a/n: Feedback please! <3 I love to hear from y'all!

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”  

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”  

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”  

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

 There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

 “I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

 Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

 “Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

 That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

 Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

 "She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

 "She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

 You had a very bad feeling about this.

 Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

 Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

 Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

 Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

 "But I was! I still am!"

 Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

 Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

 “I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

 "No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

 Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.  

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

 Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

 Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

 You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

 "She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

 Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

 You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

 A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

 He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

 Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

 As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

 The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

 One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

 Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

 In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

 "-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

 The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

 "We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

 He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

 "Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

 You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

 "What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

 Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

 Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

 While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

 Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

 You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

 You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

 Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

 Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

 Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

 Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

 "Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

 "Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

 Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

 "I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

 "Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

 "There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

 "One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

 Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

 "And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

 Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

 "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you  hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

 John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

 "I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

 "I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

 John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

 They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

 You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

 "I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming  on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

 You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

 Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

 You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

 He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

 "He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

 You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

 "I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

 You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

 He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

 You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

 His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

 What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

 "But you don't."

 You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

 He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

 You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

 Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

 The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

 Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

 "You're thinking too loud again."

 You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

 You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

 But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

 Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

 "Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

 This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

 You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

 Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

 "What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

 "What do you want this to be?"

 Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

 Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

 On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

 Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

 The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

 "Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

 Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

 "He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

 The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

 "I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

 Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

 "No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

 Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

 On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

 "It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

 The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

 You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

 "It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

 You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

 You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

 The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

 Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

 Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

 "Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

 "It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

 "What do you want?"

 "Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

 You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before  a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

 Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

 Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

 He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

 Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

 Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

 Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

 Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

 Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

 John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

 Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

 You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

 There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

 You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

[weelittleweasley]

Merry Christmas | Fred x Reader

Prompt requested by @n3ssm0nique: Best friends were all that you and Fred were. Right? Or at least that’s what you thought. But will Christmas at the Burrow change things?

Warnings: literally absolute adorable fluff JFC, Fred being adorable, George being George

Word Count: 5.6k words

A/N: I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE My first Fred fic, babeyyy!! Weasley Nation Rise! Just an FYI, we are wholeheartedly pretending that the Burrow didn’t get destroyed for this fic hehe. 

Flashbacks told in italics.

“Thank you for letting me stay with your family for the holiday, Mrs. Weasley,” you graciously tell the woman in the kitchen who hovers over a kettle, brewing you a cup of tea. You sit on a chair in the dining room, keeping quietly to yourself, hands folded in your lap. The sunlight streams in from the window, warming you up, the tip of your nose still chilly from your travels here. The Burrow was still quiet; it was early in the morning when you arrived, expecting everyone to be up, but you should have known better that only Molly Weasley would be up at this hour. Everyone wanted to catch up on their sleep while on holiday from school. 

Mrs. Weasley turned around to offer you the warmest smile, “No need to thank me, dear. You are always welcome in our home. And please, call me Molly.” She pours you a cup of tea in a delicate piece of china that you knew she saved for when guests came in fear that if she used it in her regular rotation of dining wear her children were bound to break it. “Drink up, dear. You must be freezing. The wind is unforgiving this time of year,” she adds, wrapping a blanket around you making you smile at her motherly gesture. 

This year you were spending the Christmas holiday with the Weasleys due to your parents work schedule. They were traveling abroad for work which made you upset that this would be the one year you haven’t spent the holidays together. But when you mentioned in passing that you would be spending the holidays alone this year in passing to George Weasley, he insisted that you would spend it with the Weasleys. You told him that the offer was kind, but you didn’t mind going to your aunt and uncle’s house to spend it with them and your cousins, but George said you would have more fun spending it with his family. Which you knew he was right, so you eventually gave in.

Spending Christmas with the Weasleys also meant more time with Fred which made your heart flutter. You had been best friends with the twins since year three, but you and Fred became especially close in your fourth year. Since then, you two were inseparable. But the more time you spent with Fred, you eventually grew romantic feelings for him. You feared that these new feelings towards Fred would ruin your friendship, so you had kept it all bottled up, knowing that it was best to just stay friends and nothing more. 

As you sipped on your tea, still wrapped up in the blanket Moly gave you, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Molly hovered over the stove again, this time cooking up a large amount of breakfast foods for the many people who would be dining this morning. “Oh, (Y/N)!” Ginny says when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t know you were coming this early,” she skips over to you, giving you a large hug. You had always taken a liking to Ginny and how outspoken she was. You had to be if you were the only girl amongst the Weasley boys. “Fred! George! (Y/N) is here!” Ginny yells up the stairs. “Wait until they see you. They couldn’t shut up about how excited they were for you to get here. Especially Fred,” she tells you with a wink. Ginny knew about your little crush on Fred after she coerced you to tell her after she told you about her crush on Harry. 

After the words fall out of Ginny’s mouth, you hear bumbling and crashing from up the stairs before wild running down the stairs. “Easy, boys!” Molly yells at them while flipping bacon over in the pan. “(Y/N) is not going anywhere! No need to rush,” she laughs at them before looking at you with a smile. Molly knew how much her boys loved you. She shook her head while laughing, continuing to cook up enough sunny side eggs to choke a horse. 

George saw you first and a beaming smile came on his face. “There she is!” he yells as you laughed, scooping you up in the biggest hug, spinning you around. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he exclaims as you wildly giggle. He places you down gently before looking over at his mother, “Merlin’s beard, Mum, the poor girl is in a straitjacket the way you bundled her up.” George helps you get out of the blanket, wrapping it over your shoulders lightly. “Much better, right? Now you can give people a proper hug,” he teases, hugging you once more. 

“Hey, save some for the rest of us,” a voice calls from behind George. You pull away from George and see Fred patiently waiting to give you a warm welcome. When your eyes meet, your heart instantly starts beating faster and a pink hue makes its way up to your cheeks, warming your face instantly. A small smile dances on your lips as Fred gives you a cheeky grin. “Hey, you,” he winks, making his way over to you.

Fred engulfs you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around similar to George, holding onto you tightly. He puts you down as you beam, hands resting on his shoulders. “Hi, Fred,” you smile up at him, eyes locked on his, allowing yourself to relax under his touch. The joy on his face was evident, his eyes twinkling with happiness and his mouth drawn into a toothy smile.

The two of you just stood there for a moment before George clears his throat, making his presence still known. “Alright, enough of that you two,” he speaks, knowing very well that the two of you had unspoken feelings for the other. George liked using that as leverage against the two of you when he wanted something to go his way. And this holiday, he was going to make sure that the two of you were going to confess those feelings to each other. “We’re glad that you came for the holiday, (Y/N). It’s gonna be wicked time.”

You pull your gaze away from Fred, peeling your hands away from his shoulders, but Fred keeps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as you smile. This was fine for best friends, right? “I was just telling your mum thank you for having me. I’m excited that I can spend it with my best friends and their family,” you beam as Fred squeezes your shoulders.

“Breakfast!” Molly calls to the rest of the house. With that, you immediately hear footsteps run down the stairs that are unmistakably Ron’s. 

Behind Ron follows Harry, the both of them with major bedhead, still in their pajamas. “When did (Y/N) get here?” Ron asks, raspy with morning voice, rubbing his eyes as he tries to get used to the sunlight.

You shake your head, “Good to see you too, Ronald.” He chuckles as you pull him into a big hug, Ron squeezing you tight. Ron was like your younger brother. He was always pushing your buttons, but in the most playful way possible. “Hey, Potter,” you rustle the other boy’s hair as he laughs, giving you a small hey. 

Everyone gathered around the table, taking a seat and a plate, piling mixed breakfast foods onto it. The sounds of happy munching and forks hitting plates filled the air. Light chatter between siblings and friends ensued as you sat and took in the atmosphere. The Weasleys were always so happy and that’s why you loved the family so much. They always managed to make the best out of whatever situation was thrown at them. No matter how dark times got, they were able to find lightness and laughter. When you first became friends with the twins, you were in a really sad place, always very homesick. But when the twins came into your life, they brought so much joy and hope into your life. Now you can’t help but feel out of place when you are not with them. 

Fred interrupts everyone’s conversations and speaks, “Since (Y/N) is the guest of the house, sorry Harry, you don’t count anymore,” Harry shrugs, “(Y/N) gets to pick what’s on the agenda for today.” Fred sends you a smile and a wink making you lightly chuckle. 

“That seems like a big responsibility,” you say as everyone looks at you. 

But before you can say anything else, Ginny grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair. “I need (Y/N) first to help me with something,” she tells the group. The twins look at her suspiciously, knowing that the youngest sibling was up to something. “It’s girl things. You wouldn’t understand. Right, Mum?” Ginny looks at her mother for support as Molly gives her a thumbs up and wink. “Right then, come on (Y/N),” she drags you to the stairs.

“Ginny, I didn’t even finish breakfast,” you laugh at the girl who has an iron grip on your hand as she pulls up the winding stairs of the Burrow. 

Ginny just looks at you quickly before saying, “Ron can finish your plate. Besides, if you think breakfast was a lot of food, just wait until lunch.” With that, you make it to Ginny’s bedroom as she slams the door behind her. The fourteen year old sits on her bed as you slowly take a seat next to her. “So, are you and Fred gonna get together now that you’re here?” she excitedly ask.

You sigh. You wish it were that simple. “I don’t know, Gin,” you softly smile at her. “Anything can happen, honestly.” Ginny rolls her eyes as you laugh. “Give me your brush. I’ll braid your hair,” you tell her. A bright smile finds it way to her face as she grabs her hairbrush from her desk, handing it to you, turning so her back is facing you. Carefully, you brush out her long ginger hair, pushing it away from her face as Ginny happily sighs. “I’ve always wanted a younger sister,” you tell Ginny honestly. You did feel like Ginny was your sister in an odd, yet comforting way. When you first started hanging out with the twins and Ginny arrived to Hogwarts, she kind of latched herself onto you. At first, you were a little shocked, knowing that Ginny wasn’t like this around most people. But for some reason, she trusted you and you with her. Ginny became your little sister very quickly, always coming to you for advice and guidance when it came to school, boys, and everything in between.

“I always wanted a sister,” Ginny retorts, making you chuckle. “Seriously. It can be so much sometimes with all these boys in the house and it’s just me and mum. It’s always nice when you or Hermione visits. It gives me someone to talk to rather than having to constantly hang out with those bloody idiots,” she rolls her eyes, making you laugh.

From outside the door, you hear a hey! The two of you look at the door as Ginny springs to her feet and opens the door to reveal a Harry and Ron eavesdropping on your conversation. “Get out of here, you stupid gits!” Ginny chases them down the hall as the boys laugh wildly. You laugh at the young girl’s antics before she returns into the bedroom. “Do you see what I have to deal with everyday? Drives me mad.”

Ginny returns to the bed, sitting back down as you start to braid her hair. “Poor you,” you tease. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you braid her long hair, the ginger hair now perfectly styled and swept back from her face. You pat her shoulders, letting her know she’s done as she takes a look in the mirror, smiling at the results. “Like it?”

“Love it,” she looks at you before coming back to sit next to you. “But anyway, I really do hope that you and Fred get together. You’re perfect for each other. And Merlin, he never shuts up about you. It would just make so much sense if you two were together.”

You knew Ginny was right. Fred and you were a match made. The two of you knew how to have a good laugh, but you balanced each other out. He was always there for you when you needed him most. Fred was everything you wanted. But you feared that he didn’t feel the same in contrast to what everyone told you. The fear of rejection from your best friend was a terrifying thought, so keeping things to yourself seemed like the best option. “We’ll see, Ginny. I’m hopeful,” you brush her cheek.

As you and Ginny sat in her bedroom, what you didn’t know was Fred and George were outside, leaned against the wall, eavesdropping on your conversation much more slyly than Harry and Ron. George bumps Fred in the shoulder with a smile as Fred blushes. This just made holiday much more interesting for everyone.

------

The week has gone nothing, but smoothly. Matches of quidditch in the backyard, playing chess, late night bonfires, and long chats all ensued throughout the week and it just made you sad that the holiday would be coming to a close in the upcoming days. You were having so much fun being around the Weasleys and staying in their home. It felt like home to you in a comforting, yet odd way. It felt like you belonged here. Molly treated you like a daughter and Arthur even forgot that you were going to leave at one point, thinking that you had moved in. 

But in all of the fun, you and Fred hadn’t got a moment alone. You knew that George and Ginny both were anticipating when you two would finally make a move. Hell, everyone in the house was anticipating when you two would do something. But within the week the most intimate thing that happened was you waiting to use the bathroom and Fred getting startled that you were outside waiting, him still wet from the shower, towel tied around his waist. The two of you just stared at the both, bright red blushed on your cheeks. “I didn’t know you were waiting for the bathroom,” Fred had said. “You could have just come in. You know you’re always welcome too,” he said with a wink making you gulp. And with a wink he was gone, leaving you shocked and unable to speak.

Tonight was another bonfire, everyone in the backyard circled around the roaring crackling fire. The flames were the only things illuminating everyone’s faces. You looked around with a smile, enjoying the night. Ginny sat disgruntled and mad at Ron who sat in between her and Harry, Harry also a little pissed that Ron couldn’t take a hit that he would rather be snuggled up to Ginny rather than his best mate. You giggled at the sight, sipping on your hot chocolate as Ginny just glared at you. With her eyes, she gestured for you to git next to Fred would was just a seat over from you. George was too busy telling Ron a story about one of he and Fred’s many adventures when they first got to Hogwarts, Ron completely enthralled. Sit next to him, Ginny mouths to you.

Absolutely not, you mouth back, eyes darting to see if Fred was watching you. He just stared at the fire, legs kicked up resting on a log, his hands behind his head. I’m not gonna make the first move.

Ginny rolls her eyes. Just do it, she mouths before returning her attention to George and his story. You sigh, looking at your almost empty mug of cocoa. You look at Fred longingly, wanted to be cuddled up next to him under the blanket that rests on his lap. You imagined being able to rest your head on his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around you, protecting you as you felt safer that ever. He’d kiss the top of your head before resting his head on yours, enjoying the way your body melted into his. As you get lost in your imagination, you realize that Fred has caught you staring at him. Your breath hitches in your throat and you blush, unable to look away from him.

Fred chuckles and smiles at you softly watching you as you are curled up in a ball on the chair just a few feet away from him. Your lips were perfectly pink and the tip of your nose a little red from the windchill in the air. The jumper you wore was pulled over your hands as you cradled the mug in your hands. You looked absolutely adorable as a small smile was on your lips. Fred sighed as you giggled a little at him. He just shook his head at you jokingly before dropping his left eye in a wink. 

“I’m gonna go get more cocoa,” you announce to the group, but your eyes don’t leave Fred’s as if you were just directing the statement to him, as if you were telling him to follow you. You rise from your chair and make your way inside. There are small whispers being exchanged behind you that sound like words of encouragement as you smile to yourself before going inside. Shortly after, you hear footsteps follow you inside. As you go into the kitchen and pour yourself more cocoa, you turn your head to see Fred beside you. “Hey, tiger,” you tease him.

He laughs at your nickname for him, “Hey, gorgeous.” Your heart flutters, knowing that he’s been calling you that for years, but now when he says it, it has new meaning to you. “You alright?” he asks.

You nod, happily, turning to face him, ignoring the task you originally came in here for. “More than alright. The week has been lovely,” you tell him as the two of you walk aimlessly around the lower level of the Burrow. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you and your family for Christmas. It means the world to me,” you genuinely tell him.

Fred smiles, “Of course. There was no way George and I were gonna let you spend it alone or with some weird family members.” You play with the cuffs of your jumper nervously, a thousand thoughts dancing around in your head about where this conversation was going to go. The two of you come to a halt as Fred speaks, “You mean a lot to me, (Y/N).”

His confession makes your heart speed up. “You mean a lot to me, too, Fred,” you confess to him, looking deep into his eyes. “Truly.”

“I don’t think you quite understand how much you mean to me. You make me feel really happy, (Y/N),” Fred tells you, taking a step closer to him. The two of you were so close that you could hold a magazine between the two of you. You can feel his breath on your cheek as you look up at him, biting your lip gently. “I really don’t know what I would do if we had never met that day at Hogwarts,” he recalls making the two of you chuckle. You remember when you met in the common room, them mid prank on a poor first year student as you had joined in on the prank. From that moment on, Fred was infatuated with you, much to your surprise. “And now we’re on our last year at Hogwarts and I’m just scared that I won’t be able to see you as much as I’d like to.”

Impulsively, you take his hand in yours. “Don’t say that,” you shake your head. “I’ll see you all the time. I’ll make sure of it. I can’t imagine living life without you, Fred, honestly,” you tell him, speaking so raw and genuine from your heart. You wanted to kiss him so badly, comfort him that there was no way he was going to get rid of you. He had you and there was no way that either of you were letting go of the other. You were so deeply connected to other that the notion of losing each other was nauseating. 

Fred smiles gently before looking upward, you following his line of sight. Above you dangles a small bunch of mistletoe. Your heart stops and then starts beating impossibly faster. The both of you look back at each other, a little smile dancing on both of your lips. This was a good excuse as ever to share a kiss, you could just blame it on the mistletoe. “Mistletoe,” Fred breathes out with a light laugh, you joining. “I hate breaking traditions,” he teases you as you laugh. 

“I hate nothing more than breaking a tradition,” you tease back.

Fred looks at your lips and then back at your eyes, waiting for you to do something. Gently you nod as Fred leans in closer and closer. It was like this whole scene was in slow motion as you both lean in, waiting for your lips to collide gently. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after years of waiting and longing. You were going to kiss Fred Weasley.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice interrupts you both as you jerk away from each other. “I didn’t know I was interrupting something,” you look over to see Ron awkwardly standing in the doorway before darting away back to the group outside as the group yells at him, Ron yelling back he didn’t know in defense.

Fred huffs, “What a bloody moron.” 

The moment was gone. It was over. Your chances of getting that kiss from Fred was gone. You both knew it. The two of you looked at each other sadly as you sighed. You gave him a look that said I wanted you to kiss me. He gives you a sorry look as you just stand there for another moment. “Stupid Ron,” you break the silence, making Fred laugh. 

He pulls you into his side, wrapping an arm around you. “Come on, the fire is still burning,” he tells you, walking outside. “I’m not letting you get away so easily, no matter how much of an idiot Ron is,” he whispers in your ear, making you blush. What a flirt.

As you return to the group, everyone stares at you two as you walk back together. “Nothing to see here,” Fred dismisses them all as Ginny groans loudly. Fred pulls you next to him on the loveseat that was outside, not wanting you away from him now that Ron disturbed your moment. “You really are a moron though, Ron.”

Ron furrows his brows and raises his arm in defense. “What’s going on?!” he says, completely confused. Was the boy really this clueless? 

“Oh, you’re bloody joking,” George says, throwing a pillow at Ron, everyone joining in, hitting Ron with a pillow, everyone erupting with laughter as Ron tries to defend himself. 

Although the moment was ruined between you and Fred, this moment was heartwarming as you all picked on Ron before returning to watching the fire burn out.

-----

Two days later, Christmas morning rolled around and Ginny jumped on top of you waking you up, excitedly. “Merry Christmas, you animal!” Ginny hugs you as you groan, slowly waking up. “Mum made pancakes and there’s presents downstairs! Come on, (Y/N)!” she pulls your hands up and out of bed. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you laugh.

Suddenly, every Weasley is up and down the stairs in seconds as everyone takes their usual seats around the table. Arthur proudly shows off his muggle radio and explains that muggles listen to Christmas music this time of year, him tuning it until pleasant music emits from the small box. Molly plates everyone a large stack of pancakes dosed in maple syrup. You watch as Ginny squeals in excitement, sitting herself down next to Harry as you watch with a smile. 

“Merry Christmas,” George gives you a hug.

You smile at your best friend and squeeze his torso. “Merry Christmas, Georgie.” He rolls his eyes at the nickname you coined for him as you laugh. You see Fred at the bottom of the stairs as he makes his way to you. “Merry Christmas, Fred,” you smile.

Fred pulls you into his chest for a bear hug as you sigh in him. “Merry Christmas, darling,” he whispers into your hair, placing a gentle kiss on the top. You can’t help, but blush at the gesture before the three of you take your seats at the table. “Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast? Merlin, mum, you really pulled out all the stops this year,” Fred teases his mother. 

Molly smiles, “This Christmas is special this year so that warrants a special breakfast.” Molly sends a wink your way as she hands you a plate. “Merry Christmas, darling. Eat up.”

Everyone munches on the delicious plate of breakfast food, complimenting Molly on how extraordinary the meal was. And that’s when the presents start to come out. Molly and Arthur hand out presents to each of their children as the impatiently unwrap them. Each Weasley gets a hand knit sweater with their respective initial on them as you giggle as Ron pulls his over his head. It was absolutely adorable that they all had matching sweaters. “And don’t think we forgot about you two,” Molly speaks as she hands you and Harry boxes.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, Molly,” you tell her as she insists to open it. When you open it, you see a navy sweater with your initial on the front. “Oh, I love it!” you cheer. “Thank you so much,” you beam. You really did love it, immediately pulling it over your head to wear it over your pajama top.

Molly claps as you do so. “Now, you’re officially a Weasley. No need to marry Fred anymore,” she teases as Fred nearly spits out his pumpkin juice. “What?” she asks. “Did I say something wrong?” You just blush a wild shade of crimson that matches Ron’s sweater as Fred excuses himself, making George let out a wild laugh.

As if the timing couldn’t be anymore perfect, an owl flies through the window with a letter in its mouth. Arthur gets up and retrieves the letter from the owl before it flies away. “It’s for you, (Y/N),” he smiles, handing you the envelope.

You furrow your brows, not knowing who it could be from. You rip open the seal of the envelope and peel the letter open which reads:

Dearest (Y/N),

Merry Christmas, darling. We miss you so much. We are so upset that we cannot be with you on your favorite holiday. But rest assured that we will see you soon after our trip comes to a close. We have beautiful gifts for you from the places we visited and we cannot wait to give them to you. Paris is truly the most beautiful place on Earth.

We hope that you are having a grand time with the Weasleys. Give them our love and gratitude for hosting you. 

We are so proud of you and everything you have done at Hogwarts, love. You are truly remarkable. We love you so much and are so excited to be reunited with you soon.

All the love in the world,

Mum and Dad 

XXOO

“It’s from my parents,” you tell the group with a smile as everyone softly smiles. You look at the Polaroid pictures that they attached in the letter. Your parents are smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Louvre. “They’re in Paris. They send their love and gratitude to everyone. They said that they love me and miss me and they’re proud of me...” you trail off as tears start to form in your eyes. A lump starts in your throat and you become very sad and embarrassed at how you are reacting. You just miss your parents so much. “I’m sorry could you excuse me for a moment?” you ask as everyone nods, completely understanding how you feel. 

You rise from the table and move into another room of the house, letting the tears slowly fall from your eyes. You are sure not to make any sounds, too embarrassed that you’re even crying in the first place. Sucking in a shaky breath, you try to collect yourself, squatting low, burying your head in your hands.

As you breathe in and out shakily, you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. “Hey, shhhhh, come here,” Fred’s voice says as he pulls you into him, as you cry into his jumper that his mum made. “It’s alright, darling, it’s alright.” He sits on the floor as you rest next to him, holding onto him tight as if he would leave you. But Fred wasn’t going anywhere. “I know you miss them, but they are right. They’ll be back so soon. You know that they love you and they’re proud of you. What’s not to be proud of? You’re brilliant,” he tells you, rubbing your back in circling, gently comforting you.

Moment pass and you slowly pull away from Fred, looking at his now tear stained sweater. “Oh, man, I’m a mess,” you wipe your tears away as Fred shakes his head, brushing your hair away from your face. “Sorry about your sweater, I can clean it up.”

“I like it better like this,” he says with a smile. You just laugh at him as you sniffle. “I have something for you,” he tells you as you furrow your brows.

He pulls a small box out of his pocket. You sigh, “Fred, I thought we weren’t buying gifts for each other this year. We said we were saving money to go on a trip after graduation.”

Fred shakes his head, “I couldn’t resist.” You slap his arm teasingly. “Open it.”

You slowly open the small box and your eyes widen. Inside is a small golden locket engraved with beautiful detailing. You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Fred from last year in the common room, laughing on the couch together. The memory brings an instant smile to your face. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift anyone has ever bought for you. “Fred, I don’t have any words. This is beautiful,” you tell him.

“You like it?” he asks, nervously.

“Do I like it?” you laugh. “I love it. Thank you so much,” you tell him. “Could you do the clasp?” you ask, turning around and handing him the necklace. Carefully, Fred places it around your neck and clasps the necklace. You hold the locket in your fingers as you smile at him. “Why did you do this?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

Fred nervously gulps. “Because...” he starts. “You know, (Y/N)...like I said the other night...we’re close and I really cannot see myself without you.”

Your heart flutters as you look around only to recognize that you and Fred are in the same spot as you were the other night from the bonfire. Mistletoe dangles above you again and Fred follows the sightline. He stops talking and looks at you. This time no one was going to stop from you from doing this.

In this instant, you lean in and press your lips to Fred’s, connecting you two in a sweet kiss. At first, Fred is a little shocked, but takes no time in kissing you back, his hand cupping your cheek, pulling you closer to him. You hands cup his face as your lips move in sync with each other. His lips taste of syrup and you smile into the kiss. It just felt so right like this was how your first kiss was supposed to go. 

Slowly, you pull away from the kiss, searching his eyes for what he was going to say. But for the first time in forever, Fred is speechless. “I hate breaking traditions,” you tease him, making him chuckle. 

Fred shakes his head and kisses you again, this time more excited and passionate. His arms wrap around you, letting you know that you aren’t going anywhere. You were his now and there was no way he was letting you go. Not like you wanted to. This was home. The kiss is gentle, but loving and passionate. Your heart is beating so fast and your mind is reeling. This felt like a dream. 

You pull away again from the kiss, pressing your forehead against each other. “Just so you know,” Fred speaks, “I was going to kiss you whether there was or wasn’t mistletoe.” You giggle at his antics, knowing that he was telling the truth. “This does mean you’re my girlfriend now, right?” he asks, genuinely asking, making you laugh.

“I hope so, Weasley,” you tell him. “That’s my present to you.”

He jokingly pumps his fist in the air. He places a quick kiss to your lips again. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” he whispers to you.

Smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt, you whisper back, “Merry Christmas, tiger.”

Fred pulls you up from the floor, giving your hands a squeeze. “And now to face the taunting,” he warns you. “Be prepared. But on a brave face. This is just the beginning. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into dating a Weasley.”

The two of you emerge back into the dining room, hand in hand making Ginny cheer and George stand up, clapping. “It’s a bloody Christmas miracle!” he yells, making you laugh as Ron just sits there, absolutely lost at what is going on, mouth full on pancakes. You blush wildly as Fred pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “Welcome to the family!” George mockingly yells, embracing you and Fred in a dramatic hug.

In this moment, you have never felt more at home. It was the most wonderful Christmas you had ever had and you couldn’t wait for more.

[ratcatcher0325]

Nobody’s Fool (Final Chapter)

Chapter #50. Wow. This is where our story comes to an end. I think Penn’s gonna be okay, after all! Don’t you?

Quick Note: If you haven’t had a chance to listen to any of the music up until this point I HIGHLY recommend giving the last song a listen. It’s awesome and obviously inspired this whole story!

Previous: Chapter #49

Chapter #1 (In case you wanna start all over again)

And if you still wanna read more, I have 3 Bonus Chapters. They are rewrites of the first few chapters from Penn’s POV. Start reading the first one HERE.

CW: Adult language ________________________________________

NOBODY'S FOOL

Chapter #50: Nobody’s Fool

Word Count: 3,087 Read Time: Approx. 25 mins

[Penn's POV]

For the first time in a long time, I was nervous to perform. Like, really, nervous to perform. Eveline had explained to me that millions…. Literally millions of people would be watching me live tonight. I swallowed back the lump in my throat. This was bigger than anything that had ever come before, by a long shot. The whole world was going to see me, little me, right before their eyes doing what no pet had ever done before.

When I really started to get fidgety I stopped and thought that alongside the millions of humans staring at their phones or laptops or T.V.’s on this night… there might be millions of pets, just like me, who caught a glimpse of the screen from their cage in the corner, or heard me speak from across the room. People like me, would get to see themselves reflected in my image. I tried to imagine my teenage self, tortured, terrified, nursing his fresh bruises from the day… I tried to imagine that kid getting to see someone like himself, happy, strong, and, most importantly, free up on the screen. What a difference that would have made for me back then. Maybe I could do the same for some kid out there right now.

Suddenly, I wasn’t so nervous anymore… I was honored to be here. As if on cue, a PA popped her head in to tell me it was time. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help pressing my hand to the glass. Before I had a chance to think, I was in Eveline’s cupped palm. She stared down at me, mouthing, “I love you…” as a crew member cued us to go on. I squeezed her thumb as she took her first step forward.

I could hear, through the muffling thickness of the backstage curtains, the affable and melodic voice of the host as he introduced me, “And tonight, we have a very, very special guest. So special, in fact, that he’s the first of his kind to be on our show. If you haven’t seen or heard of him yet, we’re sure you won’t forget him after tonight, after all, good things come in small packages, don’t they?” There was audience laughter and applause, “Over the last year, he’s become somewhat of an unlikely indie rock phenomenon, playing and writing his own music, and here to promote his first album release, please join me in welcoming….. Penn, ladies and gentlemen!”

Here. We. Go.

The studio lights blazed in all their blinding glory directly into my eyes, I stood, holding on to Eveline’s thumb for balance as I waved. The audience was ecstatic. Cameras were all around. I found myself sliding off of Eveline’s hand onto the hard, flat surface of Jackie Cohen’s desk. The studio crew had arranged for a proportional replica of the chair guests normally sat in to be made for me, placed just shy of Jackie’s right elbow. The man staring down at me seemed friendly enough. He had a drawn, thin face, with blue eyes and a shock of dark hair that was cut neatly and parted. He wore a simple grey suit. I offered my hand and he warmly accepted with just his finger. Everyone adored that. When the crowd’s noise finally died down, he cleared his throat and began.

“Wow! What a warm welcome! I’m amazed, for such a little guy you seem to already have a big following!! I mean, look at this face! Can, can we zoom in here?” Suddenly two fingers were pressing into either side of my face, squeezed between thumb and index, “You’re just the cutest little thing in show business, aren’t you?” He released me and I sort of stumbled back into my chair. My face burned hot. This isn’t how we’d rehearsed this. Before I could protest, he carried right along, “So, Penn, you were recently touring with the band Sticks and Stones…” cheering from the audience, “Oh I see we have some fans here today. But, you recently decided to go solo, is that right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. I felt I could make a stronger impact if it was just my voice—“

“Oh! Look at you using such sophisticated language! Did you rehearse in front of the mirror a whole bunch for this interview? He’s doing a great job, isn’t he, ladies and gents? Let’s give it up for Penn! Alright, it’s time for a quick break but when we come back we’ll get to hear a performance from the world’s tiniest musician, live, here in our studio! So stick around!”

Some crew member in the distance shouted that we had stopped airing for commercials. The second that we went off air, I stood up from my seat, “Uh, excuse me, Mr. Cohen? This isn’t going how we discussed… I thought I was getting a full three minute segment to talk about my advocacy and where the proceeds of my album are going—“ not only was he not listening to me, he couldn’t even bother to glance in my direction. Instead, as though he couldn’t hear me at all, he played some mindless mobile game on his phone. As I continued, he reached absentmindedly over my head for his mug, which he brought back towards himself, almost clocking me in the back of my head, if I hadn’t ducked.

Then, in the middle of my sentence he started speaking without looking up, “Sally? Can I get last looks? I’m feeling a bit of sweat in my hairline…” seemingly out of nowhere, a makeup artist appeared, touching him up. “Perfect, you’re a doll, Sally. It’s why we love you!” Dumbfounded I just stopped speaking. Suddenly, the woman’s eyes were on me as she squinted, taking in all my details.

Without asking, she shoved a brush, as large as my head directly in my face, poking me in the eyes, mouth and nose. I immediately sneezed from the sudden invasion into my nostrils. She looked disgusted as though she would need to go burn that brush now. “S-sorry…” I mumbled as she disappeared. We were nearing the final few minutes and as I tried to catch my breath and gather my thoughts, that massive mug came swinging back again, this time threatening to land directly on top of me. This host, whom I was coming to respect less and less, still refused to remove his eyeline from his phone, so he’d nearly placed his steaming hot mug of coffee on top of me. I yelped in surprise and narrowly sidestepped the incident.

No sooner had I landed on my feet from that ordeal, than I felt a tug on my collar as I began to be lifted off the ground. I whipped around, over my shoulder, to see what was happening to me, and realized the PA from earlier, again without asking, was plucking me up off the desk and into the air. She could tell I was a little frightened by her sudden movements and at least bothered to look in my general direction as she addressed me, “We’re sorry, but the rest of the interview has been cut for time. We are going to go straight in to the performance and that will conclude your time with us.” She said this as nonnegotiable fact. My heart sank, all while my brain raced at the speed of a bullet train. I had only about 45 seconds left to change, get my equipment and get settled on the stage. My heart was pounding.

I had decided that for the performance, I wanted to dress down from the suit I wore for the interview. I wanted to wear something similar to how I’d been dressed most days under Claire’s ‘care’. I wanted to look like the pets who would hopefully be watching this too. That was it, then. If all they were going to give me was this one song, then I had to bring my absolute best and hope this could still make an impact… however… small.

I tore off my clothes in a little alcove between the table that my set was placed on and the set itself. Hurriedly, I threw on gray pants, a white undershirt and black dress shoes. My heart thundering in my chest, I clamored on to the set, a sort of box that had been erected specifically for me. Instead of something silly and patronizing, they had actually managed to painstakingly construct a proportional studio space for me to perform in. The room was decked to the nines with details: wooden flooring, an ornamental rug, an entire grand piano behind me! This way, when they filmed me, the audience would see someone no different than any other human musician. They would focus on my sound. They could see me up close in all my minor details. They could recognize me as a person, an artist. This was Naomi’s stroke of genius.

I stood before my microphone, that familiar chrome gleaming in the lights. I’d wanted to wear my hat but was told it would cast too many shadows, so I laid it nearby on a perfectly sized three-legged stool to my right. Instead, I put on a pair of headphones, which, unlike the recording studio, were purely cosmetic and actually were just a tiny bit too large for my head, so I had to keep pushing them up to keep them in place. I rested my heels on the now familiar pedals of my drum and tambourine as I stared above me, waiting for the signal that we were live. If this was all I had been given, it was time to make it count…. The red lights of the cameras flicked on, someone signaled me with their hand and…. I began to play.

[LINK to Video] (Author Note: A chance to see Penn in action!)

My heart was practically in my throat when I began, but I just kept returning my thoughts back to some pet who might be watching, who felt worthless and alone just like I had. I thought about looking that kid in the eye and showing him what we were capable of, with just a little love and compassion in our lives. I thought about all of the humans who owned pets, who maybe were watching me perform right now and found themselves enjoying the music, idolizing the lyrics and arrangement of a mere little nothing like me. Maybe, just maybe they’d stop thinking of me, of us, as little nothings after all. Maybe Jackie Cohen would do the same.

I bobbed and bounced and picked and sang. I was on fire and I knew, the moment I finished the song, I’d done an excellent job. The studio erupted in applause. The second we broke for commercials again, that same PA returned, this time with a whole different demeanor. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she leaned down to me. “Wow! You’re pretty amazing… what’s your name again?” Even as Eveline offered her hand to me to take me backstage and leave, the host himself, stopped us and shook my hand.

“You’re pretty talented, there, squirt. Keep it up!” Well, that was something.

Obviously, the Jackie Cohen show had not turned out to be the advocacy launch we had hoped for. Although, the video of my performance soon went viral. Insanely viral. Upwards of one hundred million views viral. I continued to work a press circuit, I performed at live events, private concerts, answered internet Q & A’s, auctioned off autographed memorabilia… I did it all. But the thing I was most proud of, was the beginning of my foundation. With Eveline and Naomi’s help, I managed to found my own charity tasked with finding safe and loving homes for sick, injured or abused pets as well as bringing awareness to all of humankind about us as something more than just living dolls.

It was thanks to this organization that a true once in a lifetime opportunity came along. I was asked to interview with the BBC in conjunction with the European Union to discuss the legality of personhood for petkind. This, of course, was a legal long shot, and not even something on the books within the American government, but still, I felt strongly that I could be a face and name to this vital discussion.

The interview was to be held in Chicago. The night before, Eveline helped me to pack. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good! Great, actually. I know every single one of my talking points by heart. I feel ready.”

“That’s good. I know you’ll do amazing. I just wish Late Night could have been that for you…”

“I know. Me too. But we can’t look at it as a total loss. I’m more popular on the internet now than ever before because of that one video. That’s something. That has to count for something.”

I was suddenly wrapped all around by her warm, enveloping touch. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I love you, I’m proud of you and I’m gonna do everything in my power to help you change the world. Even if it’s one painstaking step at a time.”

The morning of the interview I felt good, relaxed even. I had written a song specifically to broadcast as part of the interview that I couldn’t wait to play. When we arrived on set, I sat where they told me to, let them adjust my microphone, my hair, my tie. The person interviewing me was a sharp, yet warm woman probably in her early sixties. She had a blonde bob cut sharply and precisely, her glasses balancing ever so precariously on the bridge of her thin nose. “How are you, Penn? My name is Charlotte. Is my team keeping you quite comfortable? Can we get you anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?” She was British. I politely declined.

“I want you to know before we begin that I’m just delighted to have you here. I think I can say with certainty you are the most unique interview I’ve ever had, in all my years in this business.”

Lights were flicked on, focal lengths set, cameras and sound rolled and suddenly it was go time.

“Penn, welcome to the BBC, on behalf of the United Kingdom and the European Union, we are delighted to have you. Now, for those who are unfamiliar, and there are less and less nowadays, please tell us a little bit about yourself, other than the obvious.”

“Thank you, Charlotte, for having me. It’s truly a great honor to get to speak about something so near and dear to my heart with you today. As you can see, and for those at home who can’t, I am actually a pet, so I’ve never exactly expected to ever do something like this, to put it lightly. My name is Penn and I am a musician, and songwriter. I love music with my whole heart but once I had the opportunity to pursue this dream, I realized I had to use it as a force for change and and a chance to make a difference. So I’m very happy to be speaking to you today, about that.”

“One of your videos, a live performance on Late Night Tonight has gone massively viral hitting over one hundred million views. Now what do you say to your detractors who are outraged by this performance? There are many who say the way the set is arranged and the video is shot, there was intentional deception involved in order to make you quote, ‘appear to be an actual person and not just a pet playing pretend’”

“But… I am a person. Just because I’m smaller in stature than the human race doesn’t mean I’m not otherwise in every other way wired just like them. Just like you all, watching this right now, I have dreams, just like you do. Fears. Wants. Needs. And, I think, most importantly, love. Just like you, I have the capacity for love, compassion and understanding. As do all pets. If you could stop for a moment and see us for who we really are, you’d begin to realize how twisted, sick and cruel it is to essentially enslave us  for your own entertainment.” There was a palpable shift in the room. I knew I was butting right up against the line of acceptable levels of outrage. I thought back to something Travis had said to me a lifetime ago, when I had first decided to play in the band. “You can’t come flying out of the gate screaming about injustice. People won’t listen…”

He was right, of course. Travis was always right. I had to win humans over through adoration and empathy. “And that is why, I’m honored to be engaging with you today to discuss legislation that could radically change the way that humanity coexists with pets across much of the western hemisphere.”

“And I understand you’ve written a new, never before heard, song for this occasion?”

“Yes. I’d love to share it with you and the world. I hope that after today, if I can shift just one heart and mind, it will have been worth it….”

I shuffled from my interview chair to a new set, all white (I was told they were filming this performance in black and white) and sat down upon my drum kit. This was probably my greatest creation yet. This was the first song that I felt I was speaking not to humans, but pets, directly. I steadied my heart as my fingers approached the strings… and I played.

[LINK to Song] (Author Note: This is the final song I suggest listening to!)

I loved the soft, dreamy melody I had crafted. It gave an air of loneliness, loss and truth that I desperately wanted to get across. I sang about what it was like to be so powerless in a world designed to keep me restrained. I sang about my lack of agency. My fear of my own legacy. And finally, the most important lesson I had learned since that night in the snow in Seattle… that I was who I chose to be, never to be restricted by anyone else ever again. I sang the final stanza directly to the camera. I hoped the pets who were lucky enough to hear and see this would feel, for a moment, like a fellow pet was looking them in the eyes and acknowledging their existence.

As I relished in the drafty silence of the seconds after the final strum died out, I couldn’t help smiling. I, Penn, was here, and, against all odds, I was going to change the world.

The End.

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

Author’s Note: I can’t thank you all enough for coming on this 50 chapter journey with me and continuing to read, reblog, comment and like. It has meant the world to me that this little story has entertained you! And if you read all of it, congrats! You just read the equivalent of an entire novel about this dumb little cowboy and his friends! Thanks SO much for your dedication!

And don’t worry, I think Penn and Eveline and the gang are going to have more adventures in the future. I have a whole plot line for a sequel in my head. But for now, I’m going to take a break... because, phew! That was a lot of work! 

By all means, please continue to submit art, asks and the like, if you feel so inclined! 

[youngbeezer]

hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea- Matthew Tkachuk (8)

all parts in the master list

--

There was no fucking way you were hopping into the elevator and making your way up to Matthew’s place. 

No, not a fucking chance, despite what you told him the night before.

Onyx was laying at the foot of the couch and rubbing his face against your feet as you started the next episode of ‘Vanderpump Rules’.

 The bus ride home was confusing for you because Matthew was kind and, for the first time, he revealed a personal part of himself to you. He was reading the books that ‘Game of Thrones’ was based on and you were more than surprised by that. 

His big smile when you started comparing the book to the show was blinding and you hated how you giddy you felt when he followed up in conversation. 

“I mean I haven’t read a ton of books but I’ve heard that they’re always better than the screen remake,” he had said. 

“Most of the time, yeah that’s accurate.” 

That easy conversation turned into Matthew driving you home and you learning that the two of you shared a building.

Of course he lived in the top floor penthouse, of course his views were beautiful. Of fucking course Matthew Tkachuk had everything and more. 

++

Onyx was laying between your legs as you sprawled out on the couch watching reality tv. The knock on your door was hard and scared the shit out of you. 

“Oh my god,” you stood up and headed toward the door, “what?”

You didn’t expect to open the door to the unruly, red curls and blue eyes of Matthew Tkachuk, but there he stood.

“Hey,” he hesitated slightly, “I missed my boy.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Onyx.”

“Oh, your boy?”

“Yeah, we met and the connection was instant, we’re fucking besties.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you rolled your eyes but stepped aside anyway, “he’s just going to run away as soon as he sees you. Onyx hates people.” 

You expected Onyx to bolt for the bedroom but he sat on the arm of the couch watching Matthew with big, curious eyes as he entered your apartment.

“Hey bud, you remember me?” 

Onyx looked like he was about to take off, and he did, but rather than hide in the bedroom, he was nuzzling his face into Matthew’s shins. He began purring furiously when Matthew leaned down to rub behind his ears and scratch just above his tail.

“I am amazed,” you shook your head in disbelief at the interaction between Matthew and your cat, “he doesn’t ever do this. Literally, he never does this ever.”

“He trusts me and wants to claim me. I looked it up.” 

“Really? You did research on cat behavior?”

“Yeah,” he blushed slightly and dropped his eyes to the floor, “I was curious. I’ve never had a cat.” 

Silence fell between the two of you as you continued standing in the doorway watching Matthew love on Onyx. 

“You know, Onyx might be interested seeing Calgary from above.” 

Matthew perked up right away, smiling at you in a way that was so annoying you couldn’t do anything besides return it. 

“If he comes up, he might like the views and he might not want to come back.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll want to come back. He does want the views though.”

*

The number of women that Matthew had seen in his apartment, taking in the views and trying their best to charm him, was foreign at that point. This was brand new, though. 

He never expected to see this woman, much less a cat he didn’t know she had until recently, in his second home, surveying the view from above and maybe, maybe, not hating him as much as she used to. 

“This is incredible, it’s crazy how we live in the same building but our views of the city are so insanely different.”

“Yeah,” he tried to be cool, “give me the boy, please.”

“Ugh, whatever.”

She gently set Onyx on the floor and watched as he practically begged to be picked up by Matthew before turning her eyes back to the views of Calgary below her.

This woman wasn’t the same one he’d known, and disliked, for two years. She was someone entirely different and he hated how drawn he was to her because, actually, she was the same woman and he wasn’t ready to face that just yet.

*

“You can’t have my cat, Tkachuk.”

“But he likes me so much,” Matthew pouted and you resisted the urge to find it adorable.

“He likes me more, I promise.” 

“Fine!” 

It wasn’t a serious response, Matthew set Onyx on the floor just inside your apartment and backed a few feet away.

“See you in the morning, I guess?” 

“Yeah, obviously,” he playfully punched your shoulder, “we work together.”

“You gonna be nice to me from now on? Now that your best friend lives at my place?”

“Yep,” he responded as he popped the p, “g’night. Goodnight Onyx!” 

++

You knew you weren’t into Matthew Tkachuk. He was largely a trash human and you had plenty of experience with him to back up that accusation. 

Still, it didn’t stop you from thinking about him as you lay in bed with your wand pressed against your most intimate parts. It was purely physical, you told yourself, Matthew was hot but that was it. That was absolutely it. 

Sleep overtook your body and when your alarm went off in the morning, you were groggy and irritable and absolutely not in the mood to go to work. 

“Good morning, sunshine!”

“Hey,” you weakly greeted another staffer as you made your way into the arena. 

“No sleep for the wicked?”

“None at all,” you smiled at her as she offered you a hot coffee and everything bagel.

“Today’s going to be rough on the guys.”

“Why?”

“They’ve been breaking rules, Chuky especially.”

That piqued your interest.

“What did he do?” 

“He was treating one of the assistants like shit and it got back to Sutter.”

“Who was he treating like shit?”

You knew, obviously.

“No idea, but Sutter’s pretty upset and Matt is going to have to deal with that.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

*

Holy fucking shit. He was sure he was going to fucking die. 

As soon as practice ended, Matthew hurried off the ice and toward the toilets. It was a hard practice and he knew he was just barely going to make it to the toilets before he started throwing up. 

His eyes watered as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl and when his stomach finally felt secure, he still found himself sweating. 

“Hey, Chuk, you ok?” 

“No,” he probably should’ve lied but fuck it, “no I’m not.”

“You know why this happened, right?” 

“No, I’ve got no fucking idea.” 

“The whole floor thing. You know?” 

Jesus Christ. He knew he fucked up for doing that to her, but when was he going to finally stop paying for doing it?

“Yeah,” another wave of nausea washed over him, “yeah I know.” 

*

You stood just outside the toilets in the locker room listening to him wretch into the bowl. It was hard to hear. 

“Matthew?”

“Oh, shit!” 

He jumped back in surprise and clutched his chest when he realized who had called his name, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. He wasn’t in a good state and it was very obvious. Matthew pushed past you in a rush and all you could do was watch as he headed back to the ice. 

++

“Tkachuk is on fire tonight! Three goals and we’re only halfway through the second,” the announcer’s voice boomed across the arena and you couldn’t hide your grin.

Matthew was being bitchy to you at the moment but there was something there. The Flames won and you felt electric. 

You were sure this was what he wanted. He’d been dropping hints for a week and you were tired of playing dumb. You were pretty fucking sure Matthew wanted you, almost as much as you decided you wanted him.

Now was the time to go for it. You knew he was home, the game ended hours ago, and you knew it was time to just fucking go for it.

So you knocked on his door and when it opened, you were met with the sight of a beautiful blonde with big eyes and a sheet wrapped around her body asking ‘who are you’ and all you could do was fucking run to the elevator and frantically press the button to your floor.

Who the fuck were you kidding? You didn’t have the body and face of a supermodel. Matthew didn’t want you. He never would.

[kindahoping4forever]

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies​ and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below! 

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Series Masterlist

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them. 

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug. 

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm. 

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile. 

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke. 

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her. 

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.” 

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it.  “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.” 

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds. 

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you. 

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling. 

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence. 

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum. 

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit. 

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you. 

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly. 

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug. 

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress. 

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy. 

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now. 

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions. 

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.” 

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up. 

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton. 

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses. 

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.” 

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing. 

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.” 

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave. 

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return. 

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. 

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles. 

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up. 

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while. 

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home. 

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him. 

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains. 

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?” 

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes. 

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles. 

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him. 

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal. 

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

@mymindwide​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​​ @pxrxmoore​​ @loveroflrh​​ @ghostofmashton​​ @sexgodashton​​ @feliznavidaddycal​​  

@castaway-cashton​​ @ashtonlftv​​ @cashtonasfuck​​ @megz1985​​  @angelicfluffs​​ @findingliam-o​​ @youngbloodchild​​  @irwinsbetch​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands  @realisticnotes  @makeamovehemmings @golden166​ @burstintocolor

​@youngblood199456​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​ @seanna313​​​  @zhangyixingxing1​​​ @stardust-galaxies​​​  @zackoid​​​

@lovelybonesetc​​​ @xsongxbirdx​​​ @justhereforcalum​​​   @ashtonangst​​

@laura66sos​​​ @calumrose​​​ @karajaynetoday​​​ ​​​ @jazzyangel242​​​ @babylon-corgis​​​  @heyheyhaleyd​​​ @calmsweetcreature​​​

@spicycal​​​ @talkfastromance4​​​  @holystxne​​​

@meetmedowntown​​​ @myloverboyash​​​

@irwindoll​​​​​​ @carrielfisher​​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​​ @creampiecashton​​​ @lovelywordsblog​​​

@trix-arent-for-kids​ @uh-huhh-honey​ @tobefalling​ @aladyofalbion​ @likehuhdude​

@curlycalums​​​  @cxddlyash​​​  

@fedorable-killjoys​​​  @iamcalumswhore​​​   @i-like-5sos​​​  

@aquarius-hood1996​  @babylonashton​  

@begluketostay​   @mateisit-balsamic​​

@crazyforcal​​   @neso-k​​   @deliciouslydisturbed365​​  @blxndeprincess

[thecarrieonokay]

Fluff and Angst Prompt #2

Happy Monday! Shall we start the week with some fluff and/or angst?

@hellishrose this one’s for you, dude! From THIS list.

Warnings for a bit of colourful language and (pretty much goes without saying) they’re pissed as farts. (Drink responsibly, guys. Or don’t. But don’t blame me!)

Riley smelled them before she saw them. The unmistakable scent of tequila was wafting towards her in waves.

She turned to see Bozer and Mac stumbling through the war room door, Desi behind them with a firm grip on both of their collars. 

“Found them,” she said just before releasing them.

Bozer stumbled forwards but managed to style it out with a little swagger before landing hard on one of the stools. Mac just hit the edge of the table with an ‘umf’, rested both of his palms on the surface and bowed his head. He shook it like there was a gnat in his ear. 

Desi rolled her eyes in Riley’s direction before spinning on her heel. “I��ll make a vat of coffee,” she called back over her shoulder as she marched in the direction of the break room.

The boys stank. Seriously. The sickly sweet smell hit the back of Riley’s throat and triggered a string of unwelcome memories. Ever since that unfortunate event in July, tequila had pretty much become Riley’s least favourite thing. She shuddered. The consequences had lasted a solid week. 

“Boze?” She clicked her fingers to get his attention. “Hey! Bro!” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” 

“M’ not dat drunk!” he slurred. “Immonna go get some coffee though. ‘Scuse me.” He launched to his feet and stumbled past her. 

Riley chuckled and shook her head as he swaggered in the same direction as Desi. “Matty is going to murder you!” she called after him. 

All she heard was a dismissive “yeah, yeah,” as he zigzagged down the hall. Riley chuckled to herself. There was no way they could sober him up in time for the briefing. There wasn’t enough coffee in the world if he was drunk enough to not take the threat of Matty seriously. 

When she turned to Mac, he was staring at her, a grim look on his face. Riley raised her eyebrows at him. “Mac? You okay?”

“We went for drinks.” 

“I can see that,” she smirked. 

“Bozer was sad.”

Riley’s smile faltered. “Bozer was sad?”

“Yeah,” Mac nodded. “I’m sad too. Not as sad as Boze, of course. But,” he sighed, “I’m sad too.”

Riley closed her eyes as Leanna’s smile flashed across her vision. A wave of pain followed in its wake. Leanna’s death was weighing on them all. But since that day, Riley could actually see Bozer physically carrying the burden of it with him. His feet seemed heavier and his shoulders inched towards his chest, as if there was a literal hole where his heart had been. 

In all the chaos of the last few months, there hadn’t been a beat to process the enormity of the loss. Matty was definitely keeping them on a hectic schedule on purpose. But Riley knew that distraction would only work for so long. Feelings that stayed buried tended to either fester until they were rotten or boil over at the worst possible moment. 

At this point, Riley was somewhat of an expert on the subject.

The object of her suppressed desire was frowning when she opened her eyes. “I don’t wanna have any regrets, Riles,” he said.

Riley puckered her brow. Mac’s drunk talk usually involved props or a slide-show of some kind. Typically, his Macspaining went into overdrive until his brain appeared to short-circuit and he passed out somewhere really uncomfortable (like the coffee table or a flight of stairs). This sombre tone was new. “What do you mean?” she asked, concerned. 

Mac sighed and stood mostly upright. He skirted around the table, using it for support as he worked his way towards her. “Bozer could have had more time with her,” he murmured and shook his head. “He regrets so much. I don’t wanna feel that way.”

He stumbled over his own feet and Riley leapt forward to grab his forearms before he hit his face on the edge of the table. His usual pine and petrol scent was so obscured by booze that she scrunched her nose. She ignored the rolling in her stomach and focused on trying to get Mac to plant his ass on the nearest stool.

“Tequila, Mac?” she asked as she guided him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the seat. He gripped both of her arms as he lowered himself onto it. He didn’t let go. “Why tequila? Have you forgotten what happened in July?”

He raised his head and narrowed his eyes. “Actually, it’s a bit of a blur to be honest.” His eyes brightened as he said, “Y’know what happens to the brain when alcohol triggers memory loss?” He gave her arms a little squeeze. 

That was more like it. Riley rolled her eyes. “I bet you’re gonna tell me.” 

He smirked. “Only if you want me to.” Then he leaned in and whispered a little too loudly, “I could tell you a lot of things.”

His breath may have smelled like booze, but it was also warm as it tickled Riley’s face. 

“You do tell me a lot of things, Mac. You never stop telling me things. It’s kind of your thing.” And she loved him for it. Not that he knew that, of course. 

He smirked. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “I could tell you other things. Things I know I’ve never told you before.”

Mac’s husky tone sent a shiver surging down Riley’s spine. Her heart involuntarily stuttered. He was drunk. He was… impaired. He was definitely not suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. 

For one thing, he and Desi had only just split. And it hadn’t been pretty.

Against her better judgement, Riley asked, “Oh yeah, like what?” as casually as she could manage. She ignored the alarm bells ringing in her head.

He trailed his long fingers down her arms and tickled her palms as he narrowed his eyes at the rings adorning her hands. “Like how you have the most beautiful skin.” He sighed. “I just want to touch your skin all the time, Riles.”

A heavy stone settled in the pit of Riley’s stomach as his nimble fingers wrapped around hers and held on tight. 

“Like how much I care about you,” his brow lifted and his eyes shone as they pierced her. “I’ve never told you how much you mean to me before. I’d die if anything ever happened to-” 

“Mac, stop.” Riley reacted on pure instinct when she ripped a hand from his grip and placed it firmly over his mouth. She couldn’t let him go on. Each word was like a dagger to her chest. “Please stop,” she whispered.

He was drunk. He was impaired.

She stood looking down at him with his knees brushing her thighs and her hand over his mouth. Mac’s eyes grew darker and darker. Inebriated though he was, his gaze was steady. She felt herself being drawn closer, unable to break her stare as he looked into her. The stone in her stomach turned to water. She felt unsteady on her feet as waves crashed against her insides. 

At least ten beats pounded in her chest as she stood caught in the steady beam of his gaze. It felt like an eternity. 

Still unblinking, Mac reached up, peeled her hand away from his face and placed it carefully over his heart.

Riley held her breath. What he said next shattered her, just not in the way she expected. 

“Riles. I don’t want to be sad,” he said.

Riley didn’t want him to be sad, either. His sadness was like a mirror. She could see her own pain reflected in his open and earnest expression. And it scared the shit out of her. 

Because if there was one thing Riley’s life experiences had taught her, it was that people always said things they didn’t mean when they were desperate or scared. Or sad. 

Emotion could be just as intoxicating as tequila. And just as destructive.

She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath through her mouth. The warmth of his skin was seeping through his shirt into the pads of her fingers. Though the urge to cradle his head to her chest was overwhelming, Riley fought against the crushing grief. She allowed herself to feel the thrum of only three more of his heartbeats before slipping her hand out from under his and taking a full step back. 

Riley opened her eyes. 

“Mac,” she sighed. “Your tolerance for alcohol sucks about as much as your skeeball game.” 

He stuttered something incoherent, like he was about to argue, when Bozer burst into the room shouting. “Ah HA!” 

Then Bozer froze, apparently distracted by his shoe. 

“Boze?” Riley asked. 

“Yeah?” He looked up at her and squinted. “I mean, yeah!” he shouted. “I caught you!” 

Riley lifted her eyebrows and waited for him to explain himself.

“I mean…” he looked between Mac and Riley like they were opponents in a tennis match. Riley was still confused. So was Mac, if his foggy expression was any indication. “Goddamn it!” Bozer exclaimed. He settled a furious gaze on his oldest friend. “Didn’t you kiss her yet?!”

Riley choked on air. She looked sideways at Mac to gauge his reaction to Bozer’s alcohol-induced hallucinations. His jaw was locked, his eyes were like saucers and his cheeks were as red as the fire extinguisher he kept on his desk. (After the last ‘incident’, Russ had insisted it stay there permanently.)

What in the holy hell was happening?! 

Bozer just waddled forwards and deposited himself onto the nearest stool with a dramatic sigh. “I knew you would chicken out. I just knew it,” he mumbled. “All that big talk about how you were finally gonna-”

Riley didn’t get a chance to hear exactly what ‘he was finally gonna’ because Mac launched himself off of his seat in Bozer’s direction and knocked him to the ground. They both landed in a heap in front of the door and began smacking each other like five year olds.

And that was the moment Matty chose to enter the room. 

“What part of ‘I might need you guys for an op tonight’ did you not understand?!” she boomed. Mac and Bozer both groaned as they craned around to look up into her furious face. 

Oh, this was going to be SO much worse than July.

Desi appeared in the hallway and froze like a rabbit in a snare when she saw who was standing in the doorway. There were two mugs dangling from one of her hands and a huge steaming coffee pot in the other. She mouthed “fuck” at Riley through the window. 

“Wait,” Matty’s expression turned murderous as she hollered, “IS THAT TEQUILA I SMELL?!”

Bozer frantically untangled his legs from Mac’s and stumbled to his feet. “Matty, I swear,” he pleaded. “This time we totally did NOT tipi your house.”

“No,” Mac chuckled from the floor. He proudly lifted his chin and declared: “We egged Taylor’s car instead.”

[hermannsthumb]

I've read fics where Hermann disapproves of PDAs but what about the reverse? As in he's so stunned at winning the most amazing man in the Shatterdome (6 phds, literal rockstar, gorgeous Newt) that he deliberately provokes contact and shows of affection. Just to show off to people and send a clear back off signal. And Newt just dotes on him obliviously.

ok this one is another super old prompt and when I was writing it this week it KINDA got away from me. but I hope everyone enjoyyyys. partially inspired from conversations with @k-sci-janitor 👀 totally sfw, except for one brief reference

anyway, a fic about hermann being all affectionate with newt and also discovering what relaxation is 

——————————————-------------------------------------------

The day after the world doesn’t end, Hermann brings Newt breakfast in bed.

Honestly, it surprises Newt more than the whole world not ending thing. Up until the previous evening, after all, Newt was pretty damn sure the guy absolutely hated him, and that if Hermann was gonna do something as out of character as bringing him breakfast, it surely meant he’d spat in it first. Or maybe poisoned it. If hated isn’t the right word, Newt would say Hermann at the very least barely tolerated. And then the whole sharing the neural load thing happened. And, after that, hugging, not once, but twice, and then falling asleep in bed together. And now Hermann’s perched on the edge of his bed (which they shared while they slept) and handing him a plate.

“You had quite the busy day yesterday,” Hermann says kindly. Hermann has never spoken to Newt kindly before. Atop the plate are two pieces of toast, a soft-boiled egg, and a mug of coffee. The coffee and toast (Newt notices) are exactly the shade he prefers. He wonders if Hermann picked up on it before or after the whole mind-melding thing. Before wouldn’t surprise him—Hermann has always been weird about noticing details like that. The egg, however, is something purely Hermann in taste. “I imagine you could use a nice spot of breakfast,” he adds.

Newt shoves his glasses on and blinks at Hermann groggily. He struggles to sit up, partially tangled in his sheets, and then takes the plate. A little bit of coffee sloshes down onto one of the slices of toast. “Are you wearing my sweatshirt?” he says.

Hermann smiles and looks down at the ragged old MIT sweatshirt he’s tossed on. He may have a few inches on Newt, but he’s still one skinny motherfucker, and it hangs almost comically off his frame. “I am,” he says. “I poked around in your closet, I hope you don’t mind. My clothing was in a rather sorry state.”

Sorry state is an understatement for both of them. Newt’s surprised they haven’t been formally ordered to burn the shit they wore to the bone slums yet. Blood, dirt, and kaiju guts aside, Newt’s, at least, reeks to high heaven with sweat. “No worries,” Newt says. He picks up the coffee and blows on it. He wonders where Hermann got coffee that smells this good. It’s been hard to find anything decent and non-instant on the base these days, and (thanks to limited rations) chain shops like Starbucks cost an arm and a leg for even a small. He also wonders what people thought when they saw Hermann strutting around the base with bedhead in a sweatshirt that obviously wasn’t his. Newt almost wants to blush on his behalf. Scandalous.

Before Newt can so much as take a sip of the coffee, Hermann is suddenly unbuckling and shucking off his grey slacks. “Dude!” Newt yelps, flushing bright red to the tips of his ears. Hermann blinks at him innocently. “What are you doing?”

It’s not so much that Newt is upset as it is that it’s so wildly out of character for Hermann that he feels he owes it to Hermann to act at least moderately scandalized. In all his years of knowing and working alongside Hermann, he’s never so much as seen Hermann’s bare wrist before. Now he’s in Newt’s goddamn bed flashing calves, and thighs, and neatly-pressed little white briefs… Hermann rolls his eyes and tosses the slacks (unfolded!) onto Newt’s desk chair. “Making myself comfortable,” he says. “Would you like me to stop?”

Does Hermann iron his underwear? It would be at odds with the rest of his clothing if he did, which is usually in various stages of frumpy to outright wrinkled, but Newt can’t think of how else it would look like that. He wonders if Hermann’s stitched his name on the inner waistband. It seems like the kind of thing Hermann would do. Newt suddenly realizes he’s been staring at Hermann’s briefs (and, worse still, considering how cute Hermann looks in just them and Newt’s sweatshirt) for an uncomfortably long time, so he quickly shakes his head and drags his eyes to Hermann’s face. One of Hermann’s eyebrows is quirked up. Newt hasn’t been subtle. “No,” he says. He clears his throat. “No, dude, you’re—all good.”

He chokes down a too-hot sip of coffee to have something to do with his mouth.

Hermann smirks.

The bedcovers are drawn back. Hermann slips under them and drapes an arm across Newt’s chest, his hand curling protectively over Newt’s hip. With his other hand he snags Newt’s coffee from his grasp and takes a sip. Newt watches his jaw and throat work as he swallows it, a funny feeling blooming in the pit of his stomach. The mug is handed back over, Hermann’s fingers brushing against Newt’s, which make Newt feel even funnier. “Newton,” Hermann declares. “I think we ought to have sex.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Can I finish my breakfast first?”

“Certainly,” Hermann says.

Newt’s heart pounds as he spreads a little packet of margarine across one of the pieces of toast; he can feel Hermann’s eyes on him, never straying once. Hermann’s hand draws little circles on his hip. Newt drops his toast twice to the plate before he can successfully take a bite, and even when he does, he doesn’t taste it. Hermann’s fingers dip under the hem of his t-shirt. Newt swallows his toast. “Why?” he says.

Apparently it’s the right question. Hermann nods, like he’s pleased Newt has asked. Like they’re talking theories or something. “I came to the conclusion while I fetching your coffee,” Hermann says. “It occurred to me that I wouldn’t have gotten up at seven in the morning to get coffee for just anyone. Then, of course, there is the whole drifting business—”

“You realized you wouldn’t have done that for just anyone too, huh?” Newt says with a smile. Hermann’s hand on his hip stills, and his cheeks go pink. Newt’s relieved to have gotten some ground back here. “Hermann, that’s sooo romantic.”

“The world was at stake,” Hermann sniffs.

“It’s okay,” Newt says. “I won’t tell anyone the great Dr. Gottlieb has feelings. So, what, you realized you have a big ole crush on me?”

Hermann takes the unfinished piece of toast from him and sets it down on his plate. He pulls Newt’s glasses off, kisses him soundly, and then puts Newt’s glasses back on. His mouth tastes like toothpaste. “On the contrary, I’ve always suspected it,” he says. “It’s just that now I have the time to confirm it.” He reaches up and strokes at Newt’s hair. “We have the time for lots of things, now, Newton. Whatever we’d like.”

Newt finishes off his coffee quickly, not even caring when he burns his tongue, and then tosses the remainder of his breakfast to the floor. His egg spills onto the massacred skinny corduroys he wore yesterday. Whatever, Newt’s burning them anyway. “God, get overhere already, man,” he says, tugging at Hermann’s borrowed sweatshirt. He needs to help Hermann confirm his crush or whatever, pronto.

--

It’s a few days before Newt and Hermann finally drag themselves out of bed and to the lab to tackle what little work remains for them to do—cataloguing what are apparently the last kaiju samples known to man (Newt), recording and backing up their drift data (Newt’s solo drift, and then their joint data), drawing some random scribbles on the board and pretending they’re important calculations about the possibility of the Breach reopening (Hermann. Okay, whatever, maybe they are important). Unfortunately, the delay isn’t for any sexy reasons, as much as Newt would’ve liked it to have been. The events of the last day of the war caught up with them pretty quickly after that morning in Newt’s bed, and they mostly just slept, ordered out dinner, popped ibuprofen for their various aches, and avoided medical at all costs. (Rumor had it the medical staff on base were looking for him and Hermann so they could do some brain scans. Apparently drifting with a kaiju brain is potentially dangerous, who knew.)

A rancid smell washes over them the second they push the heavy lab doors open, and Newt spots several hunks of kaiju organs rotting away on his workbench. Hermann clamps a hand to his mouth. “Oops,” Newt says, turning to Hermann sheepishly. He can’t help but cower as he does. He and Hermann got along swimmingly the past couple days—it’ll be sad to see all that hard work go down the drain over this. “Guess I forgot to clean up the other day. In my defense—we were kind of busy.”

But Hermann doesn’t snap at Newt, or thump his cane on the ground, or call Newt an idiot, or even look annoyed; he lowers his hand from his mouth and laughs. Albeit a terse laugh, but still. Newt gapes at him. “We were rather busy,” Hermann concedes. “So long as you clean it up in the next ten minutes, I—what, Newton?”

“Nothing,” Newt says, quickly. “I’m gonna—um—deal with it now.”

Hermann disappears from the lab while Newt is digging around in the storage closet for extra heavy-duty trash bags. When he comes back an hour later, he’s holding a cardboard tray of small plastic cups, and Newt has just hefted his last spoiled sample into the lab’s airtight biohazard bin (a bit mournfully, if he’s being honest, since he’s sure there’s still more to learn about the kaiju from them). Newt squints at the cups in the tray while he rips his messy disposable work gloves off. “What’s that?” he says.

“Iced coffee,” Hermann declares.

The gloves slap, wetly, into the biohazard bin, and Newt lets out a low whistle. “Dude. No way. From where?” He’s not sure when he gave off the impression that the way to his heart was good coffee, but maybe it’s true. Then again, Hermann could probably win him over with a cup of lukewarm tap water. Not because Newt is desperate or anything. He just really likes Hermann.

“A little shop a bit away from the base,” Hermann says. “I took the bus.” He draws back his chair and sits down with a soft sigh, setting his cane against his desk. Then he draws out a small brown paper bag from his parka pocket. He tosses it to Newt; Newt catches it with one hand. “They had these funny little cakes on sticks. I thought you might like one.”

“Cake pops?” Newt says.

“I presume,” Hermann says. While Newt inhales the little chocolate-dipped cake pop (which is so good, oh my God, Newt hasn’t had dessert that didn’t come from a vending machine in plastic shrink wrap in years), Hermann adds, “I wasn’t sure what sort of iced coffee you liked, so I made sure to get a variety.”

“Sick,” Newt says, spewing crumbs on his shirt. “Um. But, like, why though?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hermann says. “I suppose I wanted to do something kind for you.” He carefully slides a straw out of its paper wrappings and pokes it into the lid of one of the coffees. Once he crumples up the wrapper and tosses It into his train bin, he grips his cane, and uses the handle to nudge Newt’s desk chair towards him. “You worked awfully hard cleaning the laboratory.”

Newt preens a little, even as he privately wonders why Hermann’s acting so weird. Well, nice. But nice is weird for Hermann, so they’re basically the same thing. Is this part of his whole deciding whether or not he digs Newt thing? Newt just assumed the awesome morning they spent together would be proof enough of that. Then again, Hermann’s pretty thorough. “I guess,” Newt says. “It was kind of my mess, though.”

Hermann pats at the empty chair with a smile. Hermann’s smiles are so rare—crooked, and stupid cute—that Newt’s heart gives a painful little twist at the sight of it, and he realizes he doesn’t actually give a shit about why Hermann’s being all weird, actually. “You’ve earned a break,” Hermann says. “Besides, I’d like to spend time with you.”

Newt’s too stunned to argue with that one. When he sits down, Hermann inches their chairs together until their knees are touching.

--

They don’t necessarily fall back into their usual habits by the next week, but the better ones they’ve picked up (being a little kinder to each other, a little more patient, a little more respectful, and also the fact that Hermann can’t seem to stop touching Newt) all but fall into the background as Newt throws himself into his work with renewed determination. Unfortunately, his desire to get it all done as soon as fucking possible speaks less to his awesome work ethic, and more to the fact that he’s just not sure what else to do with himself now, and he likes that work gives him the excuse to not think about it. Hermann said they have all the time to do whatever they like now. Well, Newt likes working. He knows working. Relaxation is a foreign concept to him, and it was a foreign concept to Hermann up until recently. While Newt is toiling away over his decaying kaiju samples in the lab, Hermann is out—

“Where?” Newt says.

Hermann gives Newt the most serene smile Newt’s ever seen cross his face. “I took a bath,” he says. “It was very nice. I bought some nice soaps, and lit some candles, and looked online to see how to do one of those mud masks. It was very relaxing. You ought to try it.”

“Try bathing?” Newt says.

“Yes. Well, no. I mean taking a bath. Is there something you’re not understanding?”

Newt tries to imagine Hermann with a mud mask on his face and cucumbers over his eyes and fails miserably. Hermann hates messes. He would never stand for mud, let alone on his skin. Where’d he even find a bathtub? Did he break into the rangers’ locker room again? Aren't candles banned on base for being a fire hazard, anyway? “Yeah,” Newt says. “Pretty much all of it.”

Hermann shakes his head with a snort, and Newt catches a whiff of something floral and fragrant—his fancy new soap or oil, he guesses. “I’m not surprised. You know, Newton, you are awfully tense.”

Hearing that from Hermann of all people, the king of having-a-massive-stick-up-your-ass, is probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened to Newt. He laughs out loud and plunges a bare hand into his kaiju sample with a gross squelching noise. “Sure, dude.”

He’s almost too engrossed in his sample to feel Hermann sidling up behind him and setting a hand at his waist. He definitely feels Hermann nose a kiss behind his ear, though, and the hot flush that spreads down across his neck from it. Newt’s hand goes sweaty around his scalpel. One thing he definitely wasn’t expecting from a post-no-apocalypse Hermann is how free he is with affection in any and all forms. “Give it a rest, love,” Hermann murmurs. He nudges at the heel of Newt’s boot with the end of his cane. Love? “Why don’t we head back to my quarters and watch a film? You can pick.”

“But.” Newt fidgets. “I have—my sample—”

Another little kiss. The soapy-oil smell is stronger now. Newt thinks it might be lavender. He wonders if the mud mask left Hermann’s skin all soft. “It won’t be going anywhere, Newton.”

Newt sets down his scalpel.

When they they pass by a group of LOCCENT staff in the hallway, Newt makes to drop Hermann’s hand (which Hermann had laced together with his own before they left the lab), but Hermann holds fast, maybe even faster than before, and looks at him with his stupidly sweet set of big eyes. Newt waits until they round the corner to say anything. “Sorry,” he says, lamely. “Um. I thought—you wouldn’t want—” Hermann continues to stare at him. His iris is still ringed red like Newt’s. “I just mean I know you’re weird about stuff like that. Public stuff.” Hermann has been a closed and tightly-bound book for as long as Newt’s known him; he can’t imagine that would suddenly change and he would start broadcasting his emotions far and wide in the course of a week just because he’s a little less stressed.

Or, you know. Maybe Newt’s totally wrong on this. “Ah,” Hermann says. He nods, very seriously. “Yes. I have been considering that as well. I see no reason to hide recent developments in our relationship.” He squeezes Newt’s hand. "In fact, I see no reason to not be quite, er, proud of them. You’re quite the catch.”

Newt remembers the stolen sweatshirt. Maybe Hermann wearing it out to get them breakfast was more calculated than he realized. “So if I made out with you against the wall right now you wouldn’t be mad?” Newt says.

“Well,” Hermann says, inclining his head to his door, "seeing as my quarters are right there, it seems a rather unnecessary inconvenience.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Newt smiles as Hermann leads him in. “Can I really pick the movie?”

“Within reason.”