#pretend I'm not late for their day hush

[putuponpercy]

Tonight's sketches 9 & 10

[inkskinned]

it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.

i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.

when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.

on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.

we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.

i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?

how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.

last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.

i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.

[ceilidho]

Hello~ new lurker here. I've been daydreaming about Price wanting a family, but not having the time to court someone, and two other possible scenarios came to kind.

Reader, not part of his team but works at the same base, who was just served divorce papers. She wanted kids, the soon to be ex-husband didn't and he found someone else. She doesn't *know* how to be a girlfriend anymore. She only knows how to be a wife.

Or

It's family day on base. Price is wistfully watching families show up for their soldiers. And overhears someone who is in the same boat as him.

"don't be getting babyfever."

"Too late. Want a baby. I want something worth retiring for."

you're hitting all my buttons with this :\\ I'm realllyyyyyy going heart eyes at the first idea though.

Poor reader who maybe got married knowing that her husband wasn't interested in having kids but hoping that she could change his mind. Then maybe accepting a childless marriage after years of being together, but always felt like she was giving up something immeasurably valuable to her, like giving away the future she'd always envisioned for herself.

Only to get hit with divorce papers after giving up so much of herself for her husband. She signs them in a daze because he's already moved in with his new girlfriend and she couldn't bear the humiliation of trying to beg for him to come back when he's already so clearly moved on.

Maybe Price has always been interested in her, but respected the ring on her finger and figured that he was just too late. A damn shame, but over the years that they've worked together, he's come to treasure her companionship. He treats himself to daydreams, to quick wanks in the shower before work so that he doesn't spend the day looking for her or hovering over her shoulder when he finds her. So he can pretend at being normal.

And his brain short circuits when she stops by his office one day and he glances down to her hands out of habit only to find them bare. No ring. Glances up again and really looks at her this time, the troughs under her eyes, dark circles from poor sleep, from crying, cheeks losing a bit of their plumpness from not eating right. Price doesn't even listen to the words coming out of her mouth, some request from her superior that she'd been tasked with bringing to him. It all falls to the wayside because her ring is gone.

He lets her confide in him, gives her his shoulder to cry on. Locks the door to his office and pulls her into his lap even though it's not appropriate, he's not her direct superior but he is a superior. He shouldn't be brushing his thumb under her eyes to wipe away her tears and speaking to her in a low, hushed voice, exhorting her to tell him everything weighing on her. He shouldn't be pitting her against her ex, telling her that he'll help her sell the house (she can't afford to buy her husband's half since it's in both of their names) and she can stay with him in the meantime.

He shouldn't feed into her anguish by telling her that he understands her pain. How much he's longer for a baby as well, just never found the right person, the right partner. The big, empty hole in his life that he's never been able to fill with work or friends or extended family. He shouldn't indulge himself in the way crying makes her pretty lips swell and her eyes go big and watery. He shouldn't nudge her into agreeing to move in with him when she's this vulnerable, still beaten up and hurt from signing the papers not even a few days ago.

He does anyway though :\\

[jsprnt]

it’s difficult to communicate with a cute boy when you don’t speak each other’s language fluently

arda güler x jude’s younger sister

A/N: missed writing so much! based on this request, thank you babes! ❤️ (physical features are not specified!)

W/C: 1.574

"I'm outside, hurry up.."

you scream at your incredibly slow older brother through the phone. squinting as the july sun beams through your windshield, into your eyes.

"you're so impatient, you guys-" your brother huffs, his voice low and hushed.

"I'm not the impatient one! mister jobe over here, just ate an entire bag of sweet-and-salty popcorn in one sitting!"

you turn you head, giving jobe a nasty look, in turn, receiving a jab from your irish twin.

"stop! we got it to share!" you shout, rubbing your arm.

"now he's hitting me, come on, or I'll kick him out of the car!"

You scream, fighting back the urge to open the passenger door and kick your brother out to the curb.

"I'll be there in five, behave.."

"It's never just five minutes with you, and I'm not a dog, so I won't 'behave'-"

before you can end your sentence, your older brother hangs up on you. leaving you speechless as jobe snorts at you.

"fuckin' rude ass.."

you mumble, leaning back into your car seat.

"here, sis.." he suddenly says, nice enough, tipping the bag of popcorn just enough for you to see the contents.

it's not much, but it is something..

"thanks.." you reply, sticking your hand into the bag, and retrieving the sweet-and-salty goodness, popping the crunchy snack into your mouth.

five minutes turn into ten, and before you know it, it's been over half an hour.

"look! finally.."

you look up from your phone when jobe suddenly speaks. sighing in relief when you spot jude walking out of the real madrid training center.

"Is he alone?" you squint, moving your head to see.

"he's with brahim, and arda.."

you perk up at the names, immediately following his gaze to the three guys, all carrying their toiletry bags. indicating they'd just finished training.

the second name uttered by your brother, had your heart stuttering instantly. you try to hide the smile creeping up to your face, and pretend like you're still pissed at your older brother for being- extra late.

though, seeing the boy you've been crushing on for a couple months, next to him- maybe, just maybe you'll forgive jude for being so late.

you clear your throat, trying to act like seeing arda hadn't thrown you off a bit, and roll your window down as jude walks over to you.

"you're late.." you mutter, trying to scold your older brother, very discreetly.

you squeal when his hand comes up your face, his palm stretched over your face to shut you up.

"and I'm paying dinner, again, so shush.." he mutters, pulling his hand back when you slap his arm.

"paying for food is your duty as an older brother. it's not like you earn money to buy things for yourself.." you bite, smiling when jobe chimes in.

"yeah, big bro- she has a point.."

you grin at your big brother's expression, though your face falls when he starts talking to his teammates.

your eyes flicker to arda, noticing he'd gotten his hair cut since the last time you saw him.

you had been crushing on him since the day you two met, when you picked up jude after one of his spanish classes, and drove arda home too. out of the kindness of your licenseless-older-brother's heart.

arda didn't even speak that much english, nor did you speak any turkish.

spanish wasn't totally out of the question for the both of you, since you both were learning the language after moving there.

safe to say, you knew the guys communicated in a strange mix of spanish and mostly english. whatever was understood, went.

"can the guys join us?" jude suddenly says, breaking you out of your trance.

"you're paying, so I won't object.." jobe says, leaning back into his seat, and pulling his seatbelt on.

"sure, why not?"

not even twenty minutes pass, and your already parking your little volkswagen polo into the parking lot of the restaurant.

'a perfect first car for my daughter, especially in a new country..' your dad had beamed at the spanish dealership. shaking the dealer’s hand like he'd just bought a brand-new mercedes.

the ride to the unfamiliar restaurant is less awkward than you'd imagined, with two of your older brother's friends in the backseat. mainly lively due to your, suddenly very talkative brothers.

"we're here.." you speak, killing the engine and collecting your handbag.

your eyes dart to the building, and back to your outfit.

you'd never been before, and could only arrive correctly due to jude screaming a couple of directions in between his gossip session.

you sigh to yourself, your pretty summer dress was definitely better than the basic tee and sweatpants worn by the guys.

turning, you reach over to open your door, gasping when the door is opened by someone else.

you look up, making eye contact with a certain age mate of yours. you smile up at him, like it's on instinct, getting out of the car as he holds the door open for you.

"thank you, arda.." you speak, trying to hide the nervous tremble in your voice.

there was something about that smile that made you want to cheese over him all the time. and his brown hair, which looked golden in the sunlight, or the language barrier that made it extra difficult to get closer to him.

but, if your older brother could do it, you could too..

"have you been here before? to this restaurant?" you ask, eyes expressive as you watch him close your car door once you've stepped out.

"yes, two times.." he answers in his thick turkish accent, making eye contact with you.

"was it good?" you continue, eyes flickering to your brothers and brahim already walking into the restaurant.

noticing, you both speed up your pace, your handbag dangling from your hand, and in between you both.

"very good, delicious.."

you chuckle at the movements he makes to express himself, finding it absolutely adorable to his already sweet personality.

"that's good. I trust your taste.."

your words earn an awkward grin back, and you clear your throat. holding yourself back from completely crossing the line.

"you're insanely slow today.."

you hold back a surprised gasp when jobe grabs onto your hand, unaware of your moment with arda. your brother drags you towards a reserved table, and you sigh in reluctance before plastering a smile on your face and greeting the hostess.

the next couple minutes are filled with laughter and chatter, you glance across the table often. conveniently sitting across from arda. you notice the quick glances he takes, and grin to yourself.

taking a second bite of pasta, you look at your bothers. sneaking a bite of jobe's food when he's not looking.

you freeze when you hear a lone chuckle, looking up with red sauced lips to make eye contact with a smiley arda.

he quirks up a brow, looking down at his pizza, before sliding the plate closer to you.

"share?" he suggests with a smile, making you nod eagerly.

"deal.." you say, sliding your plate closer to him. before snatching a slice of the pizza.

"delicious..." you mutter, covering your mouth when you chew down on the cheesy goodness.

arda nods back excitedly, glancing at you with the most tender look in his eyes.

you gulp your food down with an ice-cold lemonade, watching as arda tries your pasta.

"very good.." he finally says, looking at you with a thumb pointing up. giving you the universal sign for 'good/okay'.

though, your cute food tasting moment is interrupted by jobe pricking his fork into your pasta, ruining the mood.

"can I have a breadstick?" he mutters, mouth full.

"I thought you said that you had a new diet for next season?"

"it's a breadstick. come on, sis.."

"okay- you're making it sound like I'm restricting you. eat all you want, damn.." you mutter, chuckling when you make eye contact with arda.

"you want one?" you ask, holding the breadbasket out.

"no, thank you.." you hear him say, before you're distracted by the rest of your food.

later, when dessert is ordered, and you're staring at your empty plate of food when it's being taken away, your phone pings.

you look up, unlocking your phone quickly before reading a pop up message.

'receive a note from 'arda's iphone'?'

you look up at him, quirking up a brow at the smiling boy.

you accept quickly, eyes scanning the message.

'you me, dinner again? I will study english for you.'

you almost lose your composure at the phone number underneath the sweet message, your face and body heating up.

your eyes lock, and you try to nod as discreetly as possible.

you save the number quickly, sending him a message, and watch his phone screen light up.

you grin to yourself, both of you sneaking glances at each other.

flustered enough, to not notice the look both your brothers and brahim are sending you two.

your older brother is protective as ever, though confused about what he should worry about.

arda was a good kid, and there was no way in hell he could give him the 'older brother talk' in your stead. 

"your dessert, miss..”

you tune out the waiter, mind drifting to the message arda sent. 

cute, you think.

what should you wear on your first date with him?

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #49

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.3k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Taehyung's ability to persuade you to do things you normally don't feel like doing still amazes you. You've no idea how the man does it but he surely has his ways. In your defense, you didn't let yourself be persuaded quickly.

"I'm not going to a bar on Sunday, Taehyung."

That's what you told him when he suddenly came up with an idea to go out in the evening. He had decided not to go home after breakfast, not that you minded his company. Not at all. Jungkook was busy finishing your bed after breakfast while you and Taehyung watched movies the entire day. It was a calm day – until Taehyung's extrovertness and need to go out came up to the surface.

"Relax, you're not getting drunk."

So the next ten minutes were spent with his attempts of getting you to agree to his plan, involving Jungkook as soon as he came up from the office room – which is going to be your room as well from now.

"We are just going to hang out."

"Come on. Jimin bailed on me and I'm lonely."

Just a glimpse of what he said to make you finally agree.

In the end, Jungkook agreed as well and offered to be the driver.

"I can't believe he made us go out on Sunday." you comment with a mutter under your breath, glancing down at your already finished drink.

Going to a local bar is what you mean.

Jungkook glances at you, arm outstretched behind your seat as he grins. "You're acting as if it's the first time that has happened."

Well, he has a point. 

Taehyung scoffs, reminding you that he has heard you perfectly as he sits on the opposite side of you and Jungkook, adjusting the button-up Jungkook has borrowed him since he barged in wearing pajamas last night. He actually borrowed a whole outfit from Jungkook which seems kind of weird, because he looks like Jungkook. Minus the face and tattoos of course, but still. Their fashion style is kind of different, not totally but seeing Jungkook in that button-up before and now Taehyung wearing it is... interesting and odd.

Not that it doesn't suit him. Taehyung usually wears similar clothes when going out at night. It's the fact those clothes are Jungkook's but well, he looks good in them. The looks Taehyung gets from the women in this bar just proves that.

"Oh please, what were you two about to do on a Sunday anyway?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you lazily, "Fuck behind everyone's back?" he laughs, your entire face heating up as his name leaves your mouth in a hushed exclamation.

"Probably." Jungkook shrugs, not letting Taehyung get to him as you give him a look but he looks relaxed and not very bothered by your friend's jab.

The little twitch in the corner of his lips tells you last night has crossed his mind.

"Relax, I'm just joking," Taehyung rolls his eyes at you, "Is it really that bad to hang out with me?" Taehyung asks with a glare and edge to his voice, but looking at him you realize how the undertone of his question is plainly just sad and you immediately feel bad.

"No, Tae, that's not what I meant," you assure him, shaking your head as you prop your elbows on the table and lean closer to him. "It's just, it's Sunday and I have work tomorrow. All of us do actually. I don't want to go to sleep too late and then having to deal with Junho's annoying ass the whole next day. Plus, I can't get drunk."

It's not like you haven't done it before. It's not that big of a problem to be honest.

Everyone knows you want to get a good amount of sleep before having to wake up early in the morning. It's just how you prefer to do things and thanks to your friends, you get a good amount of clubbing and hanging out in public places a lot.

"Nobody is getting drunk. We are just having a few good drinks and that's it."

But you should've known to never trust him when it comes to drinking and having fun.

With more drinks on your and Taehyung's part, Jungkook gladly sticking to coke, the evening started to get more relaxed in terms of you relaxing and sharing a good laugh with your friends. Suddenly, getting more drinks didn't sound so bad and once Taehyung suddenly came up with another plan of visiting a nearby club, surprisingly you already stood up ready to go.

You're nowhere near dressed appropriately for a club. Just a pair of dark jeans, a nice top and heels – not your average good outfit but you don't care.

Not even when Jungkook reminds you of your work tomorrow, not very sold on the idea of going clubbing on Sunday night as you and Taehyung both wave him off. Sighing, he still joins you – not that he has a choice since he is both your driver.

It doesn't even make sense. You only go to the club to get more drinks which you could've happily got in the bar. Club is loud, full of people and stinky but in your drunken state, it seems like the most logical and greatest idea. You blame it on Taehyung.

You and Taehyung dance through a few songs though, something you wouldn't be able to do in a bar. Jungkook watches you two the entire night like a parent, and if you weren't so drunk you would feel bad for him having to stick to his non-alcoholic drinks while he babysits not only you but Taehyung as well.

He happily reminds you he's okay and doesn't want to get drunk, every time you drunkenly sit back down into the booth and pout at him.

"You're drunk," Jungkook comments, chuckling as his thumb brushes against the corner of your lips as you give him a lazy grin. "You should take it slow." he reminds you softly, snorting when you take a sip of your drink, ignoring his words.

You sheepishly grin at him, sitting back which happens to be on Jungkook's side as you cuddle up to him. Taehyung currently flirts with one of the women, which is also the reason you joined Jungkook because he shooed you away as soon as she approached you and him. Idiot.

However, he doesn't bail on you and joins you shortly after.

Jungkook reminds you two to stop drinking so much every few minutes but just like always, you both wave him off.

"Sober people are always annoying when others are drinking." Taehyung comments and you start giggling like it's the funniest thing he could've said right after Jungkook has scolded him for ordering another round of drinks.

"This sober annoying person is driving you home." Jungkook reminds him with a grumble, your giggling continuing.

To Jungkook's luck, you decide to end the night when you start getting tipsy, almost falling asleep on Jungkook's chest while Taehyung looks like he has had enough – equally getting tired and too drunk to barely stand on his feet.

How he manages to get you two in his car is beyond him, but he's glad when you're both seated in the back as he drives through the night to his apartment. Taehyung's car is in a parking lot in front of Jungkook's building, so there's no way he's driving him home. Also, he is drunk and doesn't want to waste time driving him home, having to actually get him to up his floor and apartment.

It's not like it's a bother to him for Taehyung to spend a night over. At least he is not left with blue balls this time.

"Well--this is new," Taehyung slurs drunkenly in the back, your head that's been leaned against the window lazily turns to him as you questionably look at him. "I haven't even kissed anyone tonight."

You snort, giggling. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's just weird." he giggles to himself as you join him.

"You know what's weird?" you ask, pointing at your outfit as Taehyung cocks his head at you. "This outfit."

You both cackle right after, causing Jungkook to roll his eyes at the two of you and what a hangover you two are about to have. The last time you were even similarly drunk to your current state was at the New Year's Eve trip – something that's hard to forget.

"Nah, you look good." Taehyung murmurs, his words coming out as snort as he starts drifting away but your voice shakes him out of it.

"You really think so?"

You sound so hopeful and light, causing Jungkook to stifle back a laugh as Taehyung encouragingly nods like the supporting friend he is.

"No, you're just saying that because you're my friend." you grumble sadly as Taehyung drunkenly tries to reach towards you but ends up almost slapping you in the face which causes you to click your tongue at him in annoyance.

"No, I'm not!" he argues childishly as you cross your arms over your chest, not even caring your top makes your breasts almost spill out of it with how low it is tugged by your arms.

"You are!"

"No, you idiot!"

"I'm not an idiot!"

Taehyung sighs, fighting back the need to just close his eyes and sleep. "You are hot."

"You mean it?" you pout again, staring hopefully at drunk Taehyung but you're not the one to talk, looking just as hammered.

"Yeah!" Taehyung exclaims enthusiastically, "I would totally go for you if you were a stranger."

"You would?"

Jungkook listens to the absurd conversation, silently counting down the minutes to his apartment building. Why the fuck you sound so happy? 

"Yeah!" he exclaims again, burping right after as you giggle. "I would totally kiss you tonight if you weren't my friend."

"Kiss me?"

Oh fuck, you're so drunk. You even sound interested knowing the thought of kissing one of your friends – excluding Jungkook of course – is like kissing your brother. But this doesn't even cross your mind.

"Mhm, you wanna kiss?" Taehyung proposes, drunkenly sending you a crooked grin as he leans towards you while you sit behind Jungkook's seat, grinning at him just as much.

Why not? What could go wrong?

"Yeah!"

You both start to lean closer to each other, pursing your lips like little kids do but before you can even get any closer, the car comes to an abrupt stop which almost makes you both fly through windshield if it weren't for the seatbelt Jungkook has so kindly put on both of you.

Before Taehyung can even open his mouth, taking him too long to realize what has just happened, Jungkook is out of his seat as the door on Taehyung's side is pushed open.

"Yah, what the fuck man?" Taehyung complains, slurring his words as Jungkook takes off his seatbelt and pulls him out of his seat.

Taehyung complains the whole time, your drunk mind having a hard time comprehending what is happening until Taehyung sits in a passenger seat, Jungkook clicking on his seatbelt with a frown before the door is shut.

You blink confusingly at the back, your stomach feeling funny from the harsh stop you just made as you're trying not to throw up.

"You're both so fucking wasted." Jungkook mutters under his breath, putting the car into drive fastly.

You both fall asleep for the rest of the ride, Taehyung waking up just as Jungkook parks in an underground garage where he only recently bought a parking spot. He already looks as if he can't remember a thing, blinking as he watches his surroundings with sleepy and bloodshot eyes – Jungkook chuckles once he notices Taehyung's dumbfounded expression.

Getting him out of the car is just as hard as he expected, Taehyung barely able to stand on his feet while Jungkook scolds him to at least try and stand for a solid minute while he tries to get you out of the car.

Taehyung leans against his car, palms messily outstretched on its windows as he leaves handprints all over it and Jungkook has to take a deep breath. Opening the door on your side, you're already sleeping with your head and neck in an uncomfortable position.

You're so out of it, he thinks as he tries to wake you up. Brushing a few strands of your hair off your face, he gently calls out your name while he shakes your shoulder but you murmur something under your breath, trying to swat his hand off.

Sighing, he grunts once he sneaks his arms around your frame and tries to take you into his arms. With your lack of response and difficult position it's not easy but eventually he successfully manages to pull you out, holding you bridal style as he shuts the car door with his hip.

"Why don't I get such a privilege?" Taehyung pouts, slurring once he notices you in Jungkook's arms while he's scared to let go of the car, guessing he won't be able to hold himself on his feet for long.

"Because you're heavy and my size," Jungkook answers nonchalantly, telling him to at least try holding his forearm, so he doesn't fall.

Carrying you in his arms with Taehyung attached to his side is even more difficult but by the time you make it into the elevator, he promises himself not to ever listen to you or Taehyung's drunk ideas.

Fortunately for Jungkook and his sake, Taehyung finds his way to the couch and even though Jungkook had to scold him to take off his shoes before he enters his home any further, he slouches himself on the couch and falls asleep right away.

Jungkook manages to put you into your newly assembled bed and fresh sheets. The bed fits into his office room but with the lack of space, one side has to be pressed against the wall and it looks a little bit awkward but it's not like it's important.

While Jungkook is taking your shoes off, you start to shift on your spot as your eyes open with a few lazy blinks as you look around. It's funny watching you trying to figure out where you are, until you spot Jungkook's desk and computer before Jungkook himself stares at you with a tiny amused grin.

You suddenly pat your face, gasping. "My make-up."

For fuck sake, Jungkook thinks as he sighs and is ready to try to convince you to take it off tomorrow because he doesn't have the energy to get you to the bathroom and take it off for you while you will keep dozing off. He doesn't really need you falling and hitting your head or something. Why can't you just lay down and sleep like Taehyung does? 

You're already standing up before Jungkook can somehow convince you to go to sleep either way, and he quickly pushes you back to bed. "Alright, alright, I'll be right here. Just wait."

A tiny part of him, okay actually a big one, hopes by the time he comes back you'll be already asleep but of course, it wouldn't be you if you listened to his never spoken pleas. He finds you staring at the ceiling with a lazy look, your eyes fighting for some sleep but you remain awake, looking at Jungkook who sits on the edge of bed.

He takes off your make-up, careful not to be too harsh with his movements. He brought way more make-up wipes than it's needed and if you were observant enough, you would definitely scold him for wasting your wipes like that.

Luck is on his side and you remain oblivious to the unnecessary waste but in his defense, he wants to make sure all of your make-up is gone and you won't curse him the first thing in the morning if you had panda eyes or new break-outs. Honestly, he thinks you would curse him out even if you hadn't any of those, just the thought of going to sleep with your make-up on would be a good reason for you to scold him.

He can't help but chuckle at his thoughts – at the sight of you who has a lazy smile spreaded on your lips.

"Did I really kiss Taehyung?" you suddenly ponder quietly, eyes slowly opening as you try to locate Jungkook ones.

"You almost did." Jungkook answers, gently rubbing the make-up wipe on your chin.

"Oh," you let out, surprised that it wasn't a figment of your drunken imagination. "Wow."

Jungkook glances at you for a second, eyes flickering to your astonished expression before he goes back to his task. "Yeah," he mumbles, "Didn't know you had a thing for Taehyung."

He knows you don't – that's why his tone comes out more light as he lightly jokes.

"I don't," you reply,  "I mean... What's wrong about kissing another friend of mine?" you joke back, snorting at your joke while he frowns.

But he remains silent, not even sure what to say to that because you're clearly drunk. Sober you would be freaked out at the thought of kissing him.

"Jimin has a girlfriend now, so I can't kiss him too."

An audible but slight snort leaves Jungkook's mouth as you continue with your joking.

"Well, too bad it's only us guys." Jungkook jokes, your grin falling off your face immediately as he puts the last make-up wipe onto the floor before he informs you he's done, but that goes unnoticed by you as you sit up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, frowning as he catches you by your forearm when you totter and almost fall back. "You would kiss other girls?"

Jungkook tries to stifle back a laugh as your hardened and serious face is not too hard to miss.

"Weren't you about to kiss Taehyung?" he points out, still joking of course but in your current state you can't seem to notice the slightest twitch of his lips or the way he bites into the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing.

This is actually interesting, he thinks, obviously he is just joking and it's not because he can't imagine having another woman or women in your small friends group of four. It's because he's already risking too much by being this close to you – but he purposely pushes any doubts and fears away – he surely wouldn't risk any other friendship by just kissing his friends.

Lifting your hand up, you sloppily trace his lips while he stares at you amusingly as you seem too deep in your thoughts. "Your lips are mine to kiss." you tell him, grinning drunkenly at him and he bites back a laugh, rubbing his nose to hide his grin instead.

"Yeah?" he chuckles and you give him one stiff nod.

"Yeah," you confirm, "I'm not allowing any other girls in our group."

"Alright," Jungkook finally laughs, nodding as he stands up and ushers you to lay back down. "You're the boss here."

Again, you miss his amused tone and expression, thinking he's completely serious as you nod.

"Of course I am," you purse your lips, "I don't want to sleep in my jeans," you mutter sleepily, trying to unbutton them but it's hard to do in your state. "Help me?"

Jungkook sighs, but helps you to get out of your clothes. He was hoping you would just go to sleep. It's not like he minds changing your clothes. He's not exactly a typical best friend and he has seen it all, like you would gladly remind him if he refused, but still – he doesn't find it comfortable changing your clothes when you're in this state. Purely out of respect for you.

Once you're out of your clothes, bra gone with your panties only shielding you, Jungkook tries not to look at your exposed form until he hands you one of your larger size t-shirts you sleep in. You ask for pants which he puts on you as well, the first one he has managed to find which happens to be with a Christmas motive.

"Okay, you're all set boss," Jungkook says, clapping his hands together as he's about to stand up but you grab him by his wrists, slowly sitting up as you tug him closer to you. "What is it?"

You just stare at him, fighting off the sleepiness as you inch closer and deliver a soft peck on his lips. Jungkook is stunned for a moment, staring at you confusingly as you give him a sheepish grin.

"I'm just staking my claim."

Jungkook snorts in amusement, shaking his head at you. "Because of who? I'm not kissing anyone else." he laughs and you frown, suddenly pouting as if you just remember what he is talking about. In your drunk and hazy mind, you have trouble trying to remember what happened in the car in the first place.

"As you shouldn't," you tell him smartly and he laughs quietly.

He knows you're drunk but if it happened while sober, he would actually think you're quite selfish for saying that considering you were about to drunkenly kiss Taehyung. But 'drunkenly' is the key point and he understands that. He doesn't even care, knowing you both got wasted that you barely knew what you were doing. He was just teasing you earlier, he wasn't expecting you to start talking about it.

"I'm getting cold, can you cuddle me?"

"Drink some water first," he says, handing you the glass of water he brought earlier along with the make-up wipes.

You do, gulping it in one go before you hand him the glass back, making yourself comfortable in your bed as Jungkook covers your body. Urging him to join you in bed, he tries to explain he needs to take a shower as you whine childishly. But he doesn't ask you, simply walking out of the room to take a quick shower.

He goes back to check on you, not expecting you to still be awake as you pat a free space next to you.

There's no escape from this, that much is clear to him and without arguing, he joins you in bed.

You start caressing the side of his face and he stares at you with a confused yet amused expression but that's until you give him a kiss. Is that a mint he tastes? 

He frowns in confusion, wondering where the hell have you found it but then he sees a pack of mint dragees on the side table.

However, the kiss doesn't last too long because he pulls away and you pout immediately.

"You don't want to kiss?"

He doesn't know whether you're annoying right now or just cute.

"You're drunk." he informs you as if he just told you news, or at least that's how you currently look as you open your mouth and almost offendly stare up at him.

Your mind seems to be clouded and in your current state you don't understand there are a few reasons why Jungkook wouldn't want to kiss at this moment – but right now all you can feel is offended that he pulled away.

"No, I'm not."

Jungkook chuckles, looking down for a moment while he stays propped on his elbow. "Yes, you are."

You give him a glare, trying to look intimidating but Jungkook wants to laugh rather than feeling intimidated.

"Okay, maybe a little bit," you roll your eyes, "But we can still kiss?"

"That's not what a gentleman would do." Jungkook hums, lips twitching when you whine and slap sheets frustratedly instead.

"Then don't be a gentleman."

"You're so bratty when you're drunk." he comments, shaking his head at you with a grin as he leans over you.

For a moment you think he's about to kiss you but he turns off the lamp instead, causing you to frustratedly huff.

"I won't ever kiss you." you murmur, huffing again as Jungkook lets out another snort.

"We'll see about that." Jungkook mutters and you scoff.

"No, I won't. You can kiss my ass next time."

"Oh, I will," Jungkook grins, "Gladly,"

You turn around with your back to him, mind getting too hazy and tired to continue this argument – or whatever it is.

"Now go to bed, brat. You'll have a nice awakening tomorrow."

You barely register his words, murmuring something you can't even realize you're saying because you're completely out of it. You drift off to sleep with Jungkook scooting closer, enveloping you with his arm and warmth.

"Fucking hell,"

Jungkook isn't even surprised when those are your first words as you join him in the kitchen, holding your head with a pained expression scrunching your puffy morning features.

He has heard voices before you came here, you and Taehyung both complaining about yesterday's night and how much you've overdone it. Not that he disagrees.

Sitting on the stool, Jungkook slides you some painkillers with a glass of water – the same thing he did to Taehyung before he went back to sleep.

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver."

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes, preparing cereals for himself as he sends you a look across his shoulder. "Have you thrown up already?"

"Yeah." you embarrassingly admit, just right after you woke up and made it to the bathroom.

"That's good, you will feel better now. If it makes you better, Taehyung already threw up two times. Luckily I expected it, so I prepared a bucket next to him."

You give him a crooked smile, despite the pain your stomach and head is already experiencing.

"What about work?" Jungkook asks, glancing at the digital clock on his stove, seeing you should've been gone a long time ago.

He didn't want to wake you up, knowing you won't be able to wake up at six in the morning when you went to sleep around midnight completely wasted.

"I called Junho, told him I woke up feeling sick."

Yeah, some time in your still half drunk state with a raspy and gruffy voice.

"What did he say?"

"He wasn't happy," you wince, "I'm sure he added to my headache."

"He's a fucking idiot then." Jungkook shrugs, showing you his bowl of cereal in a silent offer but you almost gag, shaking your head with a hand on your mouth.

"Please, I'm the idiot here. Who gets drunk on Sunday when they have work the next day?" you deadpan, Jungkook snorting.

"True,"

He gives you a grin across his shoulder and you reciprocate it, rolling your eyes at him.

"Maybe you'll learn from your mistakes."

"You're annoying." you comment, Jungkook holding his breakfast as he starts eating while standing.

You notice he's fully closed. Jeans, oversized emerald colored hoodie looking fresh which can't be said about you or Taehyung who's trying to sleep his hangover off.

"So were the two of you," Jungkook reacts right away, "Do you remember something from last night?"

"Just fragments," you cringe at yourself, "Did I do something embarrassing?"

Jungkook smirks, swallowing his bite as he leans back against the counter. "Well, let's see...you guys kept drinking despite me warning you. You just waved me off every time and oh, you and Taehyung were about to kiss,"

You wince, but not saying anything about it as he continues.

"I had to take off your make-up, as usual. Then you wanted to kiss me but you were drunk, so I tried to politely refuse but you got all bratty,"

He's enjoying it, it's not that hard to tell considering he's amusingly grinning. "You told me my lips are only yours to kiss."

"Oh my god!" you exclaim, hiding your face away from him as he finally breaks and starts laughing.

"Do you remember any of it?"

"Yes to Taehyung, even though it's pretty hazy and I don't remember much from there. But I do remember uh," you gulp, "saying something about your lips."

"Yeah, you got very serious about it."

"Shut up," you glare at him right away. "I was drunk! You can't take me seriously!"

"Didn't know you wanted to kiss me so badly." he continues to tease you as you groan, searching for something around you to hit him with and Jungkook erupts into another fit of laughter.

"I don't," you grit through clenched teeth, "My drunk self gets cuddly and loves affection." you mutter, pouting as Jungkook scrunches his nose as he grins.

"I figured."

"Please just shut up," you beg him, "Where are you going?"

Jungkook smirks, your attempt of changing topic doesn't go unnoticed by him but he decides no longer to make you suffer.

"I'm working till four and then I'm gonna hang out with Ester."

"Oh," you let out surprisingly, "Okay."

"She's joining me on my last shoot, I want her to see how I work so we can, you know, do a better job when we work on that project,"

Ah, yes. The project Junho wanted Jungkook on. You're supposed to work on it in a month or so, the date going back and forth but not too much that it would cause any problems to Jungkook, due to his busy schedule. It's pretty unusual for him to be still home at this time – but not completely rare.

"What are you gonna do today?"

"There's not much I can do with a hangover," you snort, "I think I'm gonna spend the day with Taehyung until he decides to go home." you shrug as Jungkook nods while he continues eating.

In that moment Jungkook's phone starts to ring, interrupting your conversation even though there wasn't much to be said as his eyebrows furrow in curiosity while he pulls the phone out of the pocket of his jeans.

"It's Jimin," he says, looking at the screen before he accepts it and taps the screen, putting the phone on the counter between you two. "Hey, you're on speaker."

"Finally!" Jimin exclaims, "Who's there?"

"Hey, Jimin." you call out, letting your presence known as Jimin greets you back.

"Where the hell is Taehyung? I tried to reach out to him but his phone seems to be turned off." Jimin asks, while Jungkook leans forward against the counter with his elbows, brows raising up as he glances at you and grins.

You shake your head playfully, "Don't worry, he's here at Jungkook's. His battery probably died."

"Ah, typical of him. I should've known it's nothing serious but what is he even doing there, Kook?"

As Jungkook opens his mouth, awake Taehyung joins you in the kitchen as he recognizes Jimin's voice immediately, not that it matters because he glances at the screen either way to make sure it's really him.

"What's up, traitor." Taehyung greets Jimin, a beat of silence on the other side as you and Jungkook snort.

"Where the hell have you been, man? I was trying to reach you but apparently your battery is dead. Were you partying again?"

Taehyung purses his lips as he stares at the phone with raised brows, which you have to admit is kind of funny especially with his puffy and totally hangover face. At least this time he doesn't stink of alcohol and you can smell mouthwash whenever he opens his mouth – not that you were any different though.

"I was, indeed. We were actually, you know, us single people, although..." he trails off and gives you and Jungkook a look.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and you glare at Taehyung, silently telling him to shut up. Thankfully, he just grins back playfully at you, enjoying teasing the hell out of you and Jungkook. Jimin doesn't catch Taehyung's implication and just continues to burble that he just wanted to talk to him, but as if he knew Taehyung will open his big mouth and most likely call him out on his new relationship, he just casually says Taehyung to call him.

It looks like Jimin is not sure whether you and Jungkook know about his relationship – which you do thanks to the mentioned Taehyung's big mouth – and it is kind of amusing to see him playing it safe when all of you know the truth.

However, you would appreciate Jimin coming up to you and telling you when he wants to. Even though, in your opinion, it's not a big deal at all.

Their call ends shortly after, Jungkook has to go to work and you and Taehyung are left to deal with your hangover alone. Left to just simply wait until it passes away because there's nothing else you can do.

That's until Taehyung realizes he has never called into his work to tell them he's not coming today.

You have a great moment of laughing at the way he tries to fake sickness while he keeps flicking you off, glaring at you as he warns you to keep your mouth shut.

"Oh, you're awake,"

Surprised by Jungkook being wide awake, still lying in his bed while you tried to sneak-in into his bedroom to take some of your clothes, you expected him to be still asleep considering he starts working around lunch today.

The past two weeks have been pretty hectic for both of you, especially for Jungkook since he has barely been home and if he has, he spent it in his office anyway. There were a few times when you were falling asleep with him still editing photos in the room – something he always apologized for and tried to do his work quickly, so you could sleep peacefully. It doesn't matter how many times you assure it's okay and you don't really mind.

Yes, you prefer to sleep in complete silence and darkness, but there was something peaceful about the occasional clicks that lullabied you to sleep.

So the last thing you expected to see is him being awake at seven in the morning. Though his face is puffy and looking as if he has just woken up, he looks pretty awake for someone that can sleep a few more hours – you know you would.

Jungkook waves at you lazily, hoisting himself up so his back is leaned against the headboard.

"Sorry, I spilled my make-up on my pants and it doesn't match with my blouse, so I need to grab new clothes." you apologize, fully realizing you're just in a pair of underwear, completely exposed to Jungkook but you don't pay that much attention to it.

It's not like he has never seen you like this before. Yes, you don't usually walk around half-naked, that's his speciality, but you don't feel uncomfortable.

The office barely has space for your bed, so all of your clothes are actually in Jungkook's closet and drawers – that's why you often take your next day outfits to your room, so you don't have to barge into his bedroom every morning.

"No worries," Jungkook rasps out, voice tilted to more light and amused side. "I'm enjoying the view."

You straighten, suddenly realizing you've been a little bit bent over right in front of him, trying to search for one of your skirts you wear to work.

Giving him a look across your shoulder, you purse your lips and raise your brows at him, seeing him grinning at you widely with his eyes almost disappearing.

"Why are you awake anyway?" you ask, turning back around to search for your clothes. Luckily, you woke up a little bit earlier for some reason, so you've got some time to kill.

Where is the damn skirt? 

Met with silence, you turn your head around, enough to see Jungkook eyeing your ass with tongue slowly licking his bottom lip as you exclaim his name in disbelief.

"Couldn't sleep," Jungkook shrugs, eyes still attached to your backside. "Are those new panties?"

Sighing, you ignore him as you finally pull out the right skirt, tossing it at the end of his bed while you search for a top that matches.

"Since when do you wear a thong to work?"

Clenching your jaw, you turn around to him with a hand on your hip, raising your brows. "Sometimes, I do."

"Mhm," he hums, eyes momentarily on yours before they drop down your body. "Come join me in the bed." he says casually as you let out a surprised laugh.

"I'm going to work, Jeon. I don't have time for this."

"I can be quick."

"I know you can," you hum, "I don't want to be late."

You're not one to refuse sex, not when the last time you had it was a little over two weeks ago and you're too ashamed to admit that your friend was in the next room. Ashamed, but still kind of excited when you think about it. Like you said, those two weeks have been hectic and when you had the time, Jungkook was busy and even when there was a little time to chat, times where he would join you on the couch, you would rather spend that time catching up and just spending time together rather than having sex.

"Okay, so just stay bended for five minutes then,"

He says it so casually that if you weren't listening to him, you would have thought he's talking about the most casual and random thing.

Eyes almost falling out of their sockets, you stare at him in utter disbelief as you notice the sudden movements under the sheets. "Wait–are you touching yourself?!" you exclaim in disbelief, Jungkook rolling his eyes at your reaction as he shrugs.

"I woke up with a hard cock," he answers nonchalantly, "I'm serious, just bend over. I'm gonna have to at least settle with a good view."

He's serious, you realize as you see him touching himself right in front of you, eyes locked onto yours while you stare with your mouth open, too shocked to speak. But you shake yourself out of it, shaking your head at his bluntness while you ignore the starting tingle between your thighs. There's just something about him being so worked up, wanting to use you for the visual that makes your skin hot.

It's also a huge boost of confidence and maybe that's one of the reason sex with Jungkook is so good. No one has ever made you feel so confident and good in your own skin, especially when it comes to sex. Sure, you felt more confident with Haneul compared to Haechan, only because Haneul hasn't been that much experienced and everything you knew, learned from Jungkook and having sex with him, you used with him.

Jungkook hands slowly pumping his length under the covers, you gape at him as you snort a little, turning back to the closet as you pull out a white turtleneck, coming to a conclusion it matches well with your soft pink powder skirt.

Tossing it along with a hanger next to your skirt, Jungkook whines when you're turned back to him, robbing him from the previous side of your ass and the thong that barely covers you.

But you join him in the bed, your knees on the soft mattress as you start crawling to him which makes his eyes sparkle with hope.

"You're really shameless, you know that?" you ask, sending him a grin once you slowly pull the cover off his lower body, revealing his hand wrapped around his hard length.

Trying not to salivate at the sight, you nudge his hand away and quickly replace it with your own as Jungkook sighs in delight.

"So are you," he sighs pleasantly, closing his eyes with head leaning against the headboard. "Come on, get on my lap."

As tempting as that sounds, you refrain yourself from doing as Jungkook pleases, only because you know there's not much time you've got left. You can't afford to take a quick shower, knowing you most likely would be running late to work and Junho is already annoyed at you for not coming to work two weeks ago, when you were hungover – which he hopefully doesn't know but still, it would be just adding fuel to the fire.

"I can't," you tell him, wrapping your lips around his red tip as you gently suck on it, causing his breath to hitch. You look up at him, hand pumping him up and down as you lick your lips. "I've got work, we can't have sex."

Well, at least he's getting something out of it and he doesn't push it. You go back to work, working your lips and mouth on him again, trying to take him deeper into the warmth of your awaiting mouth.

"You, uh, you still haven't told me about what you wanna–"

"Do you seriously want to talk or get your dick sucked?" You cut him off, simply because you already know what he was about to say. You knew he wouldn't just let go of your previous conversation.

"Actually–"

But you don't get him a chance to finish his sentence, going straight for his balls as you know he loves, your mouth sucking on them while your wrist twists as you pump his hard cock. He curses under his breath, hand already wrapped around your hair as he puts it into a ponytail, tightening his hold on it.

"Fuck, you really are minx."

You smile against him, licking a long stripe up his length which glistens with your saliva .

"Are you sure you've got time for this?" he questions with a breathy chuckle, noticing you're not playing around and going right in with giving him a mindblowing blowjob.

Letting him out of your mouth with an audible pop, you glance up with a little smirk.

"I can be quick." you tease, seeing his lips curve into a familiar smirk before you continue.

"That's not fair–mhm, yeah fuck just like that."

You would snort if your mouth wouldn't be full of his cock. You just hope your make-up won't be ruined after this because even though you're not wasting any time, you're still careful enough not to gag around him or take him too deep which could make your eyes water. Jungkook seems pleased with what you're doing though, not really minding that he's not hitting the back of your throat because whatever you're doing right now, he's enjoying it.

And just when you think things can get any worse for you, considering the wetness between your thighs that's understandable and hard to ignore, Jungkook lets go of your hair and sneaks his hand under your bralette, palming your breast. You let out a sound, both of you not sure if it's to scold him or moan, Jungkook pinches your breasts which makes you whine around him.

Too ashamed to admit it, your heat is pulsing with need and desperation, and for a moment you wonder if you will risk it and let Jungkook have his way with you. Your responsible self is against it though, knowing you barely have the time to get to work just in time.

With your jaw already aching and your spit drooling down Jungkook length, you sneak your hand to his balls as you squeeze, knowing it will just fasten his orgasm. Jungkook breathing gets quicker, his own hips trying their best not to thrust into your mouth as you quicken your pace. A round of curses resound from Jungkook's mouth, a few words of him praising you how good you're taking his cock, he informs you he's close.

"Where do I cum?" he asks breathlessly, orgasm approaching every second. "You want it in your mouth?"

You hum in confirmation. Well obviously, you don't want to get your make-up ruined, you would tell him if your mouth wasn't full of him. And you definitely can't afford to feel his cum on your skin, knowing you would have to take a shower because there is no way you'll go to work with a sticky chest and dried cum on it.

"My little slut," Jungkook grits his teeth and if you weren't busy sucking him off, you would gasp at those explicit words you haven't heard in a while. Again, you feel your walls clenching around nothing and it takes a lot of restriction not to sit on his lap and ride him.

"Fuck."

And then your mouth is being filled with Jungkook's warm and salty cum, your mouth eagerly swallowing it as you slow down your pace, letting him sloppily thrust into your mouth while he fucks himself through the orgasm. Once he's done, he lets out another but loud pleased sigh, head thumping against the headboard.

Pulling his softening cock out of your mouth, your thumb catches some of his cum in the corner of your lips as you suck on your digit, swallowing it just in the right time as Jungkook glances at you.

"You're amazing."

"Of course I am," you cock a brow at him knowingly, grinning as you get off the bed. "Is my make-up ruined?" you ask, quickly gathering your clothes as you start putting them on.

Your lipstick has to be gone, considering most of it is painting Jungkook's cock. At least you chose a nude shade this time.

"No." Jungkook answers, grinning at you as you sigh while you start adjusting your turtleneck.

Quickly making your way to the bathroom to check your appearance, you gasp. He lied. Not only is your lipstick no longer on your lips, it's smeared on the right part of your cheek and your mascara is a little bit smudged. Well, you used to look worse and considering the intense morning blowjob you just gave him, you do look pretty decent. Just not decent to go to work like this.

"Jungkook!"

A sound of cackling is what you hear in return.

There's no time for scolding him, the time on your phone you quickly check shows you're already running a little bit late. You just hope you will manage to still come in time, not wanting to explain to Junho why you're running late. Not that you would tell him the truth of course.

Quickly yelling a bye to Jungkook after you get rid of the smudges and reapply your lipstick, you rush to work and luckily, the road hasn't been that busy which didn't make it even more difficult for you. You manage to arrive just in time which makes you relax.

It's only five minutes later when you sit behind your desk that you realize you never brushed your teeth or used a mouthwash after the blowjob, Jungkook's taste remaining on your tongue. When Benjamin offers you a coffee, you accept it with hot cheeks and a crooked smile.

Jungkook returns back home in the afternoon before you, tidying up the place even if there's not much to begin with. He takes care of the laundry, feeling bad that you've been taking care of it for the past few weeks since he's been too busy to do most mundane things. He's glad he could've gone to the gym for a good work-out at least twice in a week, which is way less frequent from what he's used to.

That's why he purposely scheduled today to be more free, and had only one photoshoot to do before he came back home.

Ironically, he feels more exhausted than he usually does when he's totally busy and constantly doing something productive. But just as he plops down on the couch, eyes searching for the remote to turn on the television, his phone starts to ring.

Jungwon. Well, that's unexpected.

"Hey, bro." His brother's voice resounds from the phone even before Jungkook can open his mouth, noticing he's video calling him.

"What's up, hyung?" Jungkook grins, noticing the background of their living room as his brother sits down.

"You never call, I have to be the one who reaches out to you," Jungwon teasingly scolds him, earning a playful roll of his eyes. "Mom whined about it too. You barely call them."

Jungkook winces at the mention of their parents. "I'm so busy with work, hyung. But I try to call her as much as I can."

"She misses you," Jungwon grins, not saying anything new because she misses him all the time and she tells him every time they call each other. "Me like a good son, told her that."

"Well, you, a good son, live in the same city. At least she has you close." Jungkook remarks, a guilt spreading on his face at the thought of his parents, and mostly mom, knowing she probably just misses talking to her son.

Jungwon notices it though, dropping his teasing as he gives Jungkook a warm smile. "You're her youngest son. Always been her baby." he teases again, causing Jungkook to groan and throw his head back, though there's a smile spreading on his lips.

"I will call her tomorrow."

"I know, I was just teasing you. She is dramatic sometimes."

They both share a laugh, knowing their mom gets super sentimental whenever it comes to her two sons, no matter how old they are. It's true it's been a few weeks since he called his parents, which is longer than usual, though the latest call he had with his mom was anything but pleasing. When Jungkook's mom kept asking about Kiko, inviting them to visit them soon he just had to tell her the truth. Well, a part of it and that is revealing they're no longer together, and this time it's final.

To say she was surprised is an understatement. She was happy when Jungkook told her they're back together, simply wanting what's best for her son and she thought it's her. Surely, he kept a lot of private things away from her which he's not sure if she knew how she would react. Like it was mentioned, she is sentimental and he didn't want to hurt her any further by knowing the raw and cruel truth. At least not through a phone call and to be completely honest, he's not sure if he wants to tell her. It's not something he has thought about a lot.

He prefers not to think about it too much, simply just distracting himself from the unnecessary thoughts.

But he told her and so did he tell Jungwon as well the last time they spoke. He was just as surprised, but ultimately they've all been very supportive and to Jungkook's luck, they weren't talking or asking about it too much which he appreciated.

"How are you guys though? How's Haru?" Jungkook asks, cutting himself from the thoughts as he notices his brother's soft smile at the mention of his precious daughter.

"We're good, that's why I'm actually calling you." Jungwon grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head as Jungkook raises his brow at him in question, knowing he probably has an ulterior motive for calling him.

"What is it?"

"We're planning a trip to Seoul next weekend, we've never taken Haru there so now that she's older it's more fun because she experiences more things and it's fun for her too. I'm actually planning on surprising Sona and I made a reservation at this very nice restaurant, but you know, I wanted it to be romantic and just us. I know you work during weekends sometimes, but I was wondering if you couldn't babysit Haru for us?"

"Hyung!" Jungkook exclaims, Jungwon giving him another sheepish grin.

Obviously, Jungkook loves his niece and always buys her gifts whenever he sees her, something he gets scolded for by her parents. He loves spending time with her and he misses her, though the thought of actually babysitting her makes him feel a little unsettled. The only people who have ever babysat her were his parents or Sona's.

What if she cries the whole time? He hasn't seen her for months now, the only visual has been through video calling.

"Please, tell me you're free." Jungwon pleads.

"I am but--"

"Please help us. We have barely had time for just ourselves, I really want to take her out on a romantic dinner. I already made a reservation."

"What if she cries? What if she--"

"Jungkook-ah," Jungwon sighs, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Haru absolutely loves you and talks about you almost all the time. She's gonna be fine. So will you."

"I don't know hyung," Jungkook scratches the back of his head, scrunching his nose a little. "Where are you guys staying?"

"I found a good hotel. But the dinner reservation is around seven, I don't know how long we will be there but it's gonna be around Haru's past bedtime, so I would be very very very," Oh, no. "happy if she could stay a night over there. We will pick her up the first thing in the morning, I promise."

"It's not about that and you know it," Jungkook sighs, "What if she really misses you and starts crying or something?"

"Then you will call us and we will pick her up." Jungwon says casually as if it's the easiest thing.

And it is. He doesn't know why he's suddenly so nervous about babysitting his own niece whom he loves very much.

"Fine." Jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes playfully as Jungwon exclaims a loud "yes", thanking his younger brother as if he just saved his life.

He supposes that's what happens when you get married and have a child. There is barely any time for romance, Jungwon's face of happiness clearly says it all.

"No."

"Y/N, please!"

"Jungkook, I'm not a babysitter." you murmur, feet tiredly tapping against the floor as you make your way to the kitchen to get rid of your dry throat.

You've come home later than usual, you had to stay overtime with some of the co-workers, along with Yoongi who kept annoyingly showing his irritation every five minutes. Spending your day in heels for more than a half day, the last thing you expected was for Jungkook to jump at you as soon as you took off the annoying heels, trying to include you into something he promised to his brother apparently.

"But you love kids!" he exclaims, right at your heels as he follows you.

"I do," you nod, pulling out a bottle of water out of the fridge as you open the cap and take a short sip because of its coldness. "What if something happens? I don't want to be responsible for that."

"Nothing will happen," he assures you, "Come on, I thought you loved Haru."

"I do, she's cute," you argue, "But she doesn't even remember me. We were there last summer and ever since then I haven't seen her. How do you know if I don't have any plans for the weekend?"

You take a few gulps before you close the bottle and place it on the counter, met with Jungkook's stare.

"Well, do you?" He arches his brow at you as you purse your lips.

"I don't."

Jungkook scoffs, letting out a sigh as he slowly looks up at you. "Didn't you use to babysit? You've got to have some experiences."

His perseverance wants to make you laugh because this man never gives up.

"I did, back at home and it was a few years ago." you deadpan, causing him to sigh again as he slowly walks to you while you watch him warily.

"I could really use your help," he mutters, thumb wiping your undereyes where the mascara is a little bit smudged but you haven't got the time to see your reflection yet. It's been a long day. "Haru is sweet. She's not a spoiled kid, she's actually very calm and we'll have to babysit her just for a few hours because then it's her bedtime."

You stare into his dark orbs, finding them looking at you with those big eyes and a cute expression that makes you groan. It's not like you're against helping him or babysitting his niece. She really was cute the last time you've seen her.

"Fine." you roll your eyes, Jungkook clapping excitedly before you're wrapped by his arms, face pressed tightly against his chest.Who are you kidding? Of course you would agree one way or another.

[love-marimo]

Dancing in the Rain (Neuvillette x Reader)

Lolita's Note: ー in which you saw neuvillette standing by the porch in the midst of a downpour of rain ー you asked him to dance, and little did you know it soothed his aching heart.

This, again, is taken from the actual lore of the hydro dragon crying whenever it rains!

There is a common superstition passed down through the hushed whispers in Fontaine…

…that when it rains, it is said that the Hydro dragon weeps.

It is something that you have always wondered about. You always thought about the things that made the hydro dragon cry, because it happens quite often too.

With that said, you have come to a realization that the Hydro Dragon must have a tender heart.

One that is as gentle as a morning drizzle.

Yet one that is as powerful as a thunderstorm blaring through the darkest of nights.

When the latter happens, you seek the arms of the one you love, Neuvillette. And somehow, when your bodies find each other, you swear to the archons that the storm has calmed down.

Even just a little.

The thing about Neuvillette is he does not like to display his emotions.

But he is very polite and courteous. He does not like to make anyone feel excluded, despite working in an occupation where a cutthroat attitude is necessary.

One can say that his personality becomes two sides of the same coin.

There is a middle ground, though ー a blurred space that combines these said facets of his personality. One that he fails to hide every single time.

One that comes out when it rains.

"Darling? Neuvillette?" You shift on your shared bed in a half-asleep state, looking for him.

When you sense that he's not inside your bedroom, you lit up a lamp and searched for him in your shared home.

It's been raining pretty hard these days. Coincidentally in your point of view, Neuvillette has been acting odd. It's as if he's more uptight and aloof. You noticed that he also stays up pretty late ー sometimes you think he doesn't sleep at all.

Another strange thing he frequently does, is he stands by the front porch watching the downpour of rain.

So now you definitely knew where he is.

Slowly, you hesitated to reach for his hair, but you did anyway. Caressing it gently, he was taken by surprise for a moment before he turned to you and gave you a small smile.

"Oh, my dear. You should go back to bed. We still have two hours before it is morning." He curtly tells you before he holds you closer to him.

"It seems that you want me to stay, though." You chuckle, placing your hand on top of his.

He lets out a small laugh ー one that comes out as a content sigh.

The loud downpour of the rain calmed down into a somber drizzle.

"Do you still find storms scary?" He asked you, while he looked out to the distance. You nod in reply. He sighs once again, as if he's apologizing that it cannot be helped.

"As long as you're here, I'm going to be fine." You held his hand and took him with you outside, a sudden idea of dancing in the rain popped in your head.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, a bit alarmed.

"Let's dance in the rain!" You exclaim.

"You're going to catch a cold." Neuvillette tries to take you back inside.

"Then take care of me when that happens!" You retort.

Neuvillette laughs. It sounded more genuine now.

It continued raining, but unlike the violent storm before, it poured gently on your skin. The man brushes a wet strand of your hair that covered your face and smiles at you again.

"Very well. Lead the way, monsieur/mademoiselle." Neuvillette put his hand over his chest, while you held the hem of your dress shirt on both sides.

After you bowed, you took Neuvillette's hands and guided them ー one finds its way on your waist and the other holds your hand.

"We don't have music, so let's just pretend that we are dancing to the melody of the rain." You laugh, as you begin dancing to the rhythm of waltz.

You both shared tender laughs and danced in the rain like children, even if the only light that illuminated you were the lamps of your home.

"I am sorry. I should've stayed in bed. I don't want you to be the one seeking my presence every time you feel afraid, upset, or terrible in general." He sighs.

Just as you wonder if the hydro dragon has a human form, Neuvillette wonders if you already cracked the code.

"Hydro dragon, don't cry. Hydro dragon, don't cry." You started to chant softly, as if lulling a weeping child.

He softened at your expression. As he spun you around he asked,

"Where did you learn that?"

"Oh, nothing. I thought it would be nice if the Hydro dragon hears it. I mean, not that it would be of much help." You chuckle.

Neuvillette then finds himself repeating the same words.

"Yeah that's it, let's chant it together!"

Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Neuvillette admires your gentle nature. One touch, one word, and one look ー all of his worries dissipate.

All of his woes disappear.

And of course, the heavy rainfall that he brings forth once he has a heavy heart stops.

Just like now.

"Oh? The rain stopped!" You squealed in excitement.

"Yes, it seems that the hydro dragon heard us." He replied.

The skies cleared to reveal the slight glimmer of light at the crack of dawn.

Looking up, you can still see the full moon.

"Come, let us go back inside and dry ourselves. We still have a few hours of sleep to catch." Neuvillette tells you, guiding you back to your shared home.

"I wonder if the Hydro dragon really heard us. I hope whatever troubles them is resolved soon." You say as he tucks you to bed.

To him, if it's you, then he can get used to your lullaby ー a hushed chanting of his name, one that seeks to comfort his sonder heart.

ー Lolita

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship content. married with named children. fluff.

Izuku has been pacing around the kitchen for the past five minutes, and you, devilish as you are, are pretending not to notice, content with your late night snack of hot chocolate and lightly buttered bread.

The kids are all asleep, or at the very least turned in for the night, and things have been overall peaceful in the Midoriya household for the past few days, so whatever has your husband in distress is unlikely to be that bad. Additionally, he has an expression he makes when the situation is more embarrassing than dire, and that's written all over his face at the moment.

You bite into a particularly crunchy part of the bread and the sound appears to echo - Izuku looks at you and you return his gaze with your mouth full, blinking innocently, then burst out laughing when he frowns.

"Fine, I'll bite. What's wrong, baby?" you ask.

Izuku stops pacing then stands still facing you, one arm crossed over his chest and his other hand balled into a fist under his chin.

"Did you know Izumi had a crush on..." his voice was already hushed, but now it falls into a barely audible whisper, "... Ami?"

You blink. That's all? you wonder.

"Well, yeah..." you reply. "He's uh... been like that since he was 8?"

"What?!"

Izuku looks betrayed for a moment, then moves over to you quickly, pulling out a chair to plop down on.

"Okay, but his sketchbook is literally filled with portraits of just her!"

You drink the last of your hot cocoa, then smile at him, resting your hand on his wrist posed on the table.

"Sounds like his dad."

Izuku turns pink at the ears, but then he shakes his head, trying to focus.

"It's not the same!"

You sigh. "Are they tasteful at least? They seemed fine when I saw them."

Izuku's mouth opens and closes quickly. "W-What do you mean tasteful?"

"I mean he is 15."

"___! They're okay, he's not a pervert!"

You tilt your head to the side. "Exactly, so what's the problem?"

Izuku looks at you with incredulity, shocked by your unbothered manner. "You know, perhaps the 10 year age difference??" Izuku starts. "What if he gets his heart broken? It's not like it can happen!"

You take another long look at him, then laugh again.

"Don't burst a blood vessel, it's just puppy love. He'll get over it."

"I didn't get over my first crush!"

"... Honey, how old do you think I am?" you ask. He sighs then sidesteps your statement, knowing he sounds ridiculous, then presses his head against the table. You push your plate and mug aside now, then take his fingers in yours, and he turns his head to the side to look up at you.

"You know, it's not weird for your teenage son to have a crush on a pretty girl, especially when she was his babysitter most of his life. It's harmless."

Izuku frowns.

"It's not weird I promise. Plus, it won't last." With that last part you lean just a bit closer to whisper, "I heard him on the phone with someone else, he has a crush on another person in his class right now, which I also know because he actually starts caring if I iron his shirts for school."

Izuku seems briefly relieved, then again bothered by this additional info.

"Why doesn't he tell me anything?" he asks.

"Teenagers don't tell anyone anything, don't worry about it." You say, squeezing his fingers. He gives you a half-smile, then you decide to change the subject.

"By the way, Atsuna needs to get stuff for cheerleading, so you can you take her tomorrow? I have some errands I need to run."

"Cheerleading? When did she start cheerleading?"

Izuku looks genuinely dumbfounded, following you as you get up to put your dish away.

"Two weeks ago." You snap your fingers. "I need you to keep up."

He pouts, and you actually feel a little bad.

"I'm kidding," you insist, but the damage is already done. You lead him back to a seat in the kitchen, and he frowns again, tapping his foot anxiously as he sits.

"I'm a shit father," he mumbles, and your heart aches for just a moment. You shake your head then cup his face in your hands. Izuku looks at you and you soften then kiss him.

"No way. You're just doing a ton at once right now. Let me take care of things for now, and then we'll catch up this weekend, okay?"

His hands circle around your wrists, and he's not completely convinced but he nods.

"You do such a great job, I wanna pull my weight," he murmurs and kisses you again. You let his kisses warm you more than the cocoa and press your forehead against his.

"You pull yours too, baby. We can't give 100% to everything all the time so I'll cover you and you cover me, okay?"

He nods.

"Thank you," he adds. You move out of your seat into his lap, and caress the side of his chin, feeling the roughness of his unshaven face, tired but still handsome.

"I'm taking more days off," he promises.

"You don't have to," you insist.

"I don't have to, but I want to."

You laugh but it's just a breath through your nose, and press yourself closer to him so that your face buries into his chest.

"#1 Pro Hero wants more days off so he can give his son the Talk? That will go over well with the Hero Commission."

Your sarcasm hits a little too close to home but he gently grips your fingers again and pulls them to his mouth, kissing the finger tips.

"Izuku, your husband and the father of your kids, wants to spend more time with the beautiful woman he married and the children he helped create," he states. You look into his eyes and he looks determined to make a change and you smile, accepting his resolve.

"Thank you."

---

Your phone rings in the late evening on Sunday, and you can't help but be amused as you pick up. The second you say hello, you can already hear screaming on the other end of the line.

"Is there a reason Deku is suddenly off the patrol schedule for an entire month?!"

You stifle a laugh.

"Why don't you ask him, Kacchan?" Calling his name like your husband does only serves to aggravate him more.

"Very funny. Tell him to pick up the fucking phone."

You glance over at your husband who is busy helping your youngest daughter, Ai, braid her hair down for bed in the living room. Ai holds a mirror and tells him where to part her curls, and Izuku's tongue sticks out as he tries the style on the video on the TV screen. Despite his slight confusion, he looks happy as Ai observes his work and gives him plentiful encouragement.

"When he's no longer busy. Bye! Hug the wife and kids for me!" you say cheerfully as you hang up.

[vivid-ink]

'The Love Shack'

Part IV - Haunted by You

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Part IV Summary:

It seemed like such a simple plan to execute: Stay away from Neteyam, distract yourself with other males and move on… But your body seems determined to fight you every step of the way, longing for the touch of a man you are desperate to forget… Your mind is haunted with memories of him, and the only place you seem able to find your pleasure is when you’re alone, drowning in your fantasies and pretending your touch is his…

Read Part I, II and III in my Masterlist HERE

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Word count: 15k

Content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome smut, sex toy play, squirting, double penetration, anal sex

Author's Note:

This chapter really ran away with me. It was a struggle to write, at points, so I'm not sure how I've managed to churn out 15k words. 🥲 Now that I've written this part, I can confirm there will also be a final Part 5 to this series after this.

Without further ago, enjoy Part IV, my lovelies!

***~~~***

The sound was muted, hushed. It was a soft keen, so quiet he barely heard it.

Perhaps if Neteyam hadn’t recognised it, hadn’t replayed the sound so many times in his head, he would’ve thought nothing of it and kept walking. But his ears pricked upright in keen attention, swivelling instinctively in the direction of the noise. The turn of his head followed and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lo’ak slow in his steps and do the same, both of them, two brothers standing still with their heads turned in a perfect parallel of each other.

They were on their way home from a late-night run through the bush to calm their nerves as they’d both ended their work day tense after a disastrous day of hunting.

A miscommunication between the two hunting parties had lost them a valuable opportunity to bring down a small herd of yerik (hexapedes). Yerik were a prime resource for the clan; their meat was a staple food source and their hides and innards were useful for many things like clothing, weapons and other instruments. The lost opportunity had culminated in a series of heated arguments between the hunters and harsh words of blame had been exchanged.

Distracted now from their homebound journey, the two brothers stole through the brush like predators locked onto the sound of prey. The forest of the Great Mother was luminous around them and alive with the vibrancy of night. Years of warrior training and countless hunts meant that stealth was an ingrained habit of theirs. Even outside of their work hours they crept intuitively through the thick undergrowth of the woodlands on nimble feet and with soundless breaths.

Locating the source of the noise, Neteyam felt his mood curdle at the sight that greeted him through the loreyu (helicoradians) and eyaye ferns.

Lying sprawled on your back in the glade, thighs parted and beneath another eagerly rutting male, was you.

Your moans and whimpers had been unmistakeable, sounds that both he and Lo’ak would recognise anywhere after their many nights with you at the shack. Whatever tension Neteyam thought he’d rid himself off during his run returned to him in an instant, hot ire bubbling in his veins and seizing his muscles.

Everything had changed after his one night alone with you at the hot spring… You’d begun putting walls up after that night…

The memory of your reaction to his affection, of how you’d used your safeword during the tender intimacy you’d shared post-sex, stung bitterly in his chest. It was a painful reminder to Neteyam that whatever pleasure you chose to share with him was purely that; physical and nothing more.

An unimpressed groan left Lo’ak and he turned bothered eyes at his brother, his tail swishing low behind him, “At least now we know why she’s not coming to the shack anymore. She’s playing elsewhere.”

Lo’ak’s voice had been a low murmur, but Neteyam’s gaze flicked anxiously toward the coupling pair in the glade. Neither you nor your playmate appeared to have heard though. He rolled exasperated eyes at Lo’ak and shook his head slowly, scowling in upset. Begrudgingly, he glanced at you once more before he looked away, his eyes finding his feet.

A grumbling curse left Neteyam under his breath and he grouched sourly, “Well, let’s hope she’s satisfied.”

Lo’ak could see the thunderstorm of agitation brewing in his brother and he tugged on Neteyam’s elbow, urging him to move onward. Neteyam acquiesced, but not before he saw your back arch beneath your playmate and he heard you let out a higher-pitched moan. He frowned, cocking his head curiously.

The sound was all wrong… He knew what you sounded like when you came, when your passion finally consumed you. This moan was too controlled… It lacked the breathless quality and note of wild abandon that usually accompanied your cries of bliss.

Neteyam felt Lo’ak tug on his elbow again and he set his feet moving, following along behind his brother.

It appeared Lo’ak shared the same previous thought, however, and he scoffed a little louder as they shifted out of earshot, “She doesn’t sound very satisfied; rather contrived if you ask me.”

Neteyam gave a snort, “If it’s Kai she wants, then so be it.” He recognised the male you were with; tall, broad shoulders, with a head of long and thick dreadlocks.

Kai was the commander of the clan’s fisherfolk. The young man was the same age as Neteyam and had completed his rites of passage alongside him growing up. Kai had done well in archery and hand-to-hand combat, but he had excelled particularly with a fishing spear. He’d chosen to join the river platoon, hunting and gathering in the rivers, but he could easily have joined the warriors if he wanted to. Neteyam wasn’t close with Kai, but they were friendly enough.

Although that had changed in recent weeks…

Neteyam gritted his teeth until his jaw muscles ached. His breath whistled from his flaring nostrils as he walked and his steps weren’t so much stealthy now as they were stompy. He’d suspected for a while now that Kai was trying to woo you. The river huntsman had been lingering in your vicinity at mealtimes and he’d even started wishing you well in the mornings, seeing you off on your work days.

As Neteyam’s suspicions had grown, his greetings in passing with Kai had grown brisk. The easy smile he usually graced his fellow clan members with no longer made an appearance when he regarded the other man. And the more Kai loitered around and flirted with you, the more intense Neteyam’s glowers became whenever he was in Kai’s presence.

The tangle he and Lo’ak had found you and Kai in tonight was simple confirmation of what Neteyam already knew, and suddenly, Kai was a rival.

“You know, I don’t think that’s it.” Lo’ak’s voice came out of the blue after a while.

“What?”

Lo’ak looked back at his perturbed brother, “I don’t think Neyomi wants Kai.”

Neteyam’s expression was one of impatient displeasure. Did Lo’ak not just witness the same thing he did?...

His ears flattened in annoyance and his response was a bitter hiss, “She hasn’t come to the shack for three weeks straight and now we walk in on her fucking Kai. It’s pretty clear cut, bro.”

“She might be fucking him, but it’s you she really wants.”

Tetchily swatting a low-hanging shrub out of his eyeline, Neteyam’s laugh was incredulous, “Have you had your head in the clouds these last couple of moons, Lo’ak? She’s been distancing herself for weeks now. Her reaction after the one night I had with her made it quite clear that she doesn’t want anything deeper than body play.”

Neteyam felt his face contort into a crabby pout as he recalled the events that had followed. You’d barely been able to look at him the next day. It didn’t help that every time you spoke to him or answered him during your work days, you used your formal address of him as ‘sir’. What had been a playful and titillating game of rank that night had now become an awkward aide-memoire of your dismissal of his affection. And things had only worsened from there.

Your next visit to the shack had seen you impose a new boundary: No kissing. It wasn’t something you’d discussed with him and Lo’ak out loud, but it became clear after the first few rebuffs. It’d been obvious in the way you’d subtly twist your head so their seeking lips would meet your cheek instead, or how you’d deliberately keep your face tilted downward, buried in their necks or against their chests.

It hadn’t stopped Neteyam trying at first, but each unspoken denial hurt him more than the last, and when his attempts appeared to aggravate you, he gave up altogether. He’d already spooked you with his behaviour that one night and his fear of driving you away entirely made him play along with your new rules.

As if that wasn’t bad enough though, your weekly visits to the shack then began to dwindle. It had started with excuses: Your parents needed you for something; you weren’t feeling up to it; or something had cropped up. Eventually the excuses stopped, but so did your visits. You gave no reason to him or Lo’ak, but there was a tense and tacit understanding that lingered between the three of you whenever your work put you near each other, that your arrangement with them had reached a conclusion.

Lo’ak chewed on his bottom lip. Unlike Neteyam, he wasn’t convinced that you didn’t have feelings for his brother, “You need to talk to her, bro.”

“She’s avoiding me. She keeps things professional during work times and she’s near impossible to get hold of in the evenings. It’s a clear message. There’s nothing to discuss.”

Lo’ak frowned, his eyebrows pulling into a deep knit as he pondered his thoughts. He’d teased you about your crush on Neteyam many times. Tula had even confirmed to him that you had a soft spot for Neteyam, that you liked him. Great Mother, Lo’ak had seen the evidence of your growing emotional attachment to Neteyam for himself during the nights you’d spent with them at the shack.

He’d seen it in the way you responded to Neteyam: The way your hands had always reached instinctively for his brother; the way you’d kissed Neteyam so deeply and so keenly; the way in which you came so utterly undone in your pleasure only when it was his brother who fucked you; and the way it had always been Neteyam you curled up against if you fell asleep after their playtimes. Ordinarily, Lo’ak would’ve been incredibly envious, but he knew of the tender feelings Neteyam harboured quietly for you and he was happy for his brother that you appeared to reciprocate them.

But then something changed after the night you’d spent alone with Neteyam. Your behaviour flipped, almost becoming a direct contrast to what Lo’ak had initially seen. Something had spooked you that night, but Lo’ak didn’t believe for one moment that it was because your feelings for Neteyam had changed.

“You’re the olo’eyktan in waiting, successor to the clan.” Lo’ak reminded his brother matter-of-factly, swivelling around to face Neteyam, “If you need to speak to her, you have ways of ensuring a meeting.”

Tail lashing behind him, the affront was clear in Neteyam’s stance and in his outraged expression, “I won’t use a formal summons to get her to talk to me! What kind of man would I be, cornering her like that?”

“A man who fights for what he wants!”

Neteyam snarled heatedly, shouldering past Lo’ak to walk onward, “Enough! This conversation ends here, bro.”

Growing up as the annoying little brother had its perks. Lo’ak was used to weathering Neteyam’s admonishments and he wasn’t letting this argument go. It seemed so simple in his mind. Neteyam had feelings for you and Lo’ak was quite sure you felt the same. All that stood in the way appeared to be mixed signals that stemmed from a lack of communication and badly wounded pride on his brother’s part.

Deciding to change tact, Lo’ak broached a related subject, “Didn’t Grandmother agree to what you and Dad proposed to her?”

“Yes.” Neteyam’s patience was wearing thin.

“So what’s stopping you opening up to Neyomi? There’s literally nothing standing in your way now. Didn’t you initiate the arrangement because of her?”

“Actually, the arrangement was Mum and Dad’s idea because of Kiri and her talents.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air, “Whatever! But you backed the proposed arrangement because of Neyomi. It gave you the opportunity you wanted and now that you’ve got the tsahìk’s approval, and Kiri’s acceptance, you’re just going to throw it all away and let things slide?”

Neteyam whirled around to face Lo’ak and though his volume was a careful hiss, his words dripped with acrimony and his fists were clenched tight, “She doesn’t want me, Lo’ak! You weren’t there that night! We were done playing, just winding down. I had her in my arms and she used her safeword! She was uncomfortable!”

“That’s such bullshit, bro. She used to let you clean her up, let you take care of her and coddle her. She was happy for me to join in, but it certainly wasn’t my arms she used to fall asleep in.” Lo’ak countered, shooting his brother a shrewd stare, “Look, I don’t know what’s happening with her. All I know is that something spooked her that night, but it sure as hell isn’t because she suddenly decided to go off you.”

“It is what it is.”

Lo’ak looked on silently at Neteyam’s retreating back as his brother strode away from him. With a long-suffering sigh, Lo’ak dragged a hand down his face. Neteyam was level-headed and wise when it came to matters of leadership and strategy. He was adept in his navigation of clan politics and his interpersonal skills were strong, but if there was an area of life that wasn’t Neteyam’s strong suit, it was women.

Women fawned over him and he enjoyed them easily enough, but Neteyam didn’t know women like Lo’ak did. And Lo’ak knew that when it came to a woman’s behaviour, things were never as straightforward as they seemed.

***~~~***

“Thanks for walking me home.” You pushed onto the balls of your feet to brush a kiss of gratitude against Kai’s cheek.

“Don’t mention it. Goodnight Neyomi, sleep well.” Dissatisfied though with your chaste farewell, one of Kai’s hands caught your elbow and he pulled you towards him to claim a proper kiss against your lips.

They were smooth and warm, comforting, but also entirely wrong…

Kai’s kisses didn’t spark passion within you, they didn’t make your heart skip a beat or make your stomach flutter with need. His kisses were too soft, almost tentative at times as if he didn’t want to scare you. It wasn’t what you craved. You craved confidence, sure hands and sure lips that consumed you entirely as they set your body ablaze with desire.

You forced as genuine a smile as you could at Kai as you pulled away to disappear into your family’s shelter, “Goodnight, same to you.”

Your parents would be asleep by now, but you still skulked through your home on silent feet towards the little alcove that was your own private space in the shelter. You were the youngest of three siblings and your two older brothers had left home several years ago after getting mated. It made home seem less lively than you remembered as a child, but you were thankful for the lack of people about now.

Less people at home meant less chance of someone overhearing what you were about to do. You hadn’t found satisfaction with Kai tonight and your body still burned with the need to be satiated.

You liked Kai, you really did. He was warm-hearted, thoughtful and incredibly sweet. He was strongly built and also good-looking. In fact, his build was very similar to Neteyam’s, tall and brawny in all the places a woman appreciated. Guiltily, you acknowledged within yourself that it had been the similarities in his physique that had drawn you to him in the first place. However, apart from his height and muscular build, that was where the similarities ended.

Hidden now in the privacy of your alcove, you double-checked that the thick cloths that hung from its entryway were tied and fastened to keep them closed and you lit the small oil lamp that hung in the corner. Little needles of shame pricked in your gut as you unfastened the ties at your hips and behind your back, letting your loincloth fall while you shimmied out of your chest piece.

You weren’t ashamed of touching yourself, that part was natural. It was the shame of the entire conundrum you found yourself in that made your face flame. You’d been seeing Kai casually for just over a moon now and while your encounters with him were pleasant, and his touch felt good, your traitorous mind refused to forget the other man who your heart yearned for. Your body refused to submit to Kai’s touch and it denied you the height of pleasure with him as a result.

Kai tried, truly. It wasn’t lack of enthusiasm or skill on his part. It just didn’t feel the same. He simply wasn’t Neteyam. So, to avoid the certainty of awkward conversations and to save Kai’s pride, you’d faked your pleasure with him from the beginning. How low you had sunk…

It had been Tula’s suggestion to distance yourself and try to connect with other males. Near distraught at the doom you felt after the night you’d shared with Neteyam, you’d spilled the entire truth to your best friend the next evening. Tula had looked on with a myriad of emotions and reactions as you relayed your story from start to finish; of your secret arrangement with the brothers, of the unadulterated bliss you found with them, and the subsequent crash and burn of your emotions for Neteyam at the end. You’d thought you could keep things simple, keep the lines clearly drawn between pleasure and emotion, but you’d failed ultimately.

Beautiful soul that she was, Tula hadn’t judged you, only comforted and consoled you before advising you of what you already knew you had to do. Put space between you and Neteyam, end the arrangement with him and Lo’ak, and try to move on. But alas it wasn’t working…

Sinking down to sit on your heels with your knees splayed, one of your hands snaked downward to its destination between your parted thighs. Licking your lips, you let your head loll backwards, eyelids sliding shut as your fingers smoothed through your still soaked folds. Your pussy throbbed, appreciating the repeated stroke of your fingers delving into its slick depths, alternating with a sensual massage over the swollen nub of your clit. You were helpless to stop the torrent of images and memories of Neteyam that swamped your mind; the feel of him suckling at your nipples; the feel of his longer, thicker fingers stroking in and out of your pussy; the ravenous look in his amber eyes as he looked at you while his tongue and lips wrought pleasurable havoc at your core.

Rolling a nipple between the fingers of your free hand, the dual stimulation made your pussy squeeze and pulse desperately for something to fill it. The three fingers you had buried to your last knuckle inside you weren’t cutting it and you needed something bigger. Your eyes travelled to the neatly piled heap of your belongings on your right where a cloth-covered satchel sat.

Pausing in your pleasure, you reached for the satchel and undid the fastening at its front to flip it open. Rummaging through it, it didn’t take long for your hand to grasp hold of what you were looking for.

Long, girthy and weighty in your palm, the blue toy was a striking replica of a Na’vi cock. It was called a dildo apparently and its use was obvious to you from the first time you’d laid eyes on it. You’d filched the toy from the toy box at the shack many weeks ago when the brothers hadn’t been looking. If they had noticed its absence since, they hadn’t remarked on it.

Heat pooled between your legs and you could feel your slick dripping from you in anticipation as you turned the dildo over in your hands. It wasn’t as smooth or as seamlessly designed as the other toys you’d been introduced to, and it didn’t hum, but by Eywa did it feel fucking good with its bulbous head and its ridged shaft. The dildo had a flanged base where it could suction to a flat surface and you reached towards your pile of belongings again for its accompanying aid.

Gingerly, so you didn’t make a sound, you extracted a long and shallow wooden serving platter from the pile. You turned it upside down so the smooth wood of its polished base was turned upwards towards you and placed it between your thighs. A wave of embarrassment washed over you again as you positioned the dildo on the platter so you could mount it.

Great Mother, your mother would kill you if she knew what you were doing with her serveware…

Lifting your hips and shuffling forward on your knees, you let the head of the dildo smooth past your folds, lubricating it. You were so wet that you knew the impressive size of the toy would be no issue upon entry. Aligning it with one hand, you let your weight bear down on it and your other hand flew to your mouth to stifle a muted cry as it breached you.

The stretch of it entering you was rapturous and your aching pussy eagerly swallowed its length whole, your inner walls squeezing appreciatively around its fulfilling girth until you bottomed out. It wasn’t warm with body heat and it wasn’t attached to your man of choice, but it was a close second. You undulated your hips, testing the feel of things, and when unfettered ripples of pleasure shot through your core at the movement you instinctively began a rhythm of gyrating hip thrusts.

Your fingers circled at your clit while you moved, your body rippling back and forth in time with the slight up and down of your hips. Your thighs burned with the exertion, but your pussy burned even more torturously as your climax came hurtling towards you. An unbidden fantasy of Neteyam groaning beneath you plastered itself to the back of your closed eyelids. You rode him wildly, imagined the feel of his fingers digging into your hips while you worked his hard cock in and out of you. You could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the shine of it over his flexing abdominals as he panted and strained with you. And then you felt the familiar burn of urgent pressure low in your pelvis.

It was like an old friend that had come by to visit. The urgent pressure mingled with the pulsating of your pussy and it thrilled you because you knew what it signalled, what was coming. You hadn’t felt this sensation in weeks, not since your last session at the shack when Neteyam had pinned you beneath him and drilled into you from behind with your face pushed into the plush bedding. Your encounters with Kai hadn’t even come close to the mounting bliss you were feeling now.

Caressing one of your breasts and stroking over the nipple one last time, you flew over the edge of ecstasy into freefall. Your face scrunched tight and you fought to remain quiet while your core clenched and pulsed with orgasm. Your inner walls had a crushing hold on the dildo, gripping it within you and your pussy gave a cathartic little squirt of pleasure. Chest heaving with panting breaths, your vision cleared as you opened your eyes, the last image your mind supplied was one of Neteyam smiling sleepily up at you.

The furnishings of the alcove swirled around you, the flickering flame in the oil lamp casting warm shadows about the place. You were alone in your alcove and you’d once again touched yourself to imaginings of a man you were supposed to be trying to forget. A juddery sigh of defeat left you and you flopped over onto your side, rolling onto your back so you could press your fingers firmly against your eye sockets.

The futility of the situation began to overwhelm you and you felt hot tears sting behind your closed eyes. Try as hard as you might, your little plan of ‘move on and forget’ wasn’t working. Kai was a wonderful man, skilled, respected and honourable. You enjoyed his company and everything about him showed real promise that he could be a good mate for you. But the heart wanted what it wanted, and it was Neteyam that your heart soared and longed for.

You hiccupped as sobs began to wrack your frame then. Your hands were pressed tight over your face and your palms grew wet from the streams of your tears. A smothered snuffle snuck its way out from behind the cage of your fingers and you fought to keep any more from escaping. The lump in your throat hurt and you swallowed it down stickily.

It said a lot that you found your sobs harder to stifle than your moans of bliss.

If only you’d kept your distance from the beginning. In hindsight, it would’ve been easier for you to have never known Neteyam like you now did, and to just have watched, daydreaming from afar. But too late now. You’d made your bed and now you had to lie in it.

***~~~***

Your emotions had gotten the better of you last night and you’d awoken far later than you were supposed to this morning. You’d hauled yourself from the floor onto your bed at some point and proceeded to cry yourself to sleep. Your mother’s concerned voice had roused you in the morning as she’d jostled the hanging cloths at your alcove entrance with a query about why you weren’t up yet. You’d shot a panicked glance at the floor then, before relief washed over you when you found that you’d at least had the sense to remove the evidence of your late-night activities before bedding down.

Your pa’li whickered softly and you treated her to a sweet tuber while you continued to secure your hunting gear to her leathery back. Blinking scratchy eyes, your stomach rumbled with hunger. You’d woken so late this morning that you’d missed communal breakfast, so a lone yovo fruit from your family’s fruit bowl had been your only breakfast sustenance so far. Today would be a gruelling day again. The hunting platoons were going to make a second attempt at felling the small herd of yerik that was passing through the clan’s territory.

Neteyam was in a particularly disagreeable mood this morning.

He’d been very terse during his briefing of the hunters, making sure to reiterate and clarify the plan several times before sending them all to their departure positions. It was fair to say that he was likely still upset about yesterday’s failure, but the botch-up had been as much his fault as it was yours. The miscommunication between his platoon and yours had occurred because his orders hadn’t been clear, but you’d also been too proud to clarify, so you’d assumed and assumed wrongly. All because you were avoiding as much interaction with him as much as possible.

Stupid.

“Good morning, sevin (pretty).”

You heard Kai before you saw him and you couldn’t help but smile at his smooth voice. He really was very sweet. Turning to face him, you greeted him with a kiss to his cheek and he extended his greeting by placing a warm kiss against your temple as well.  

“Look at you in your warrior garb. So fierce and ready to take on whatever danger the day brings.” Kai teased with a toothy grin.

He was dressed for his work day too in a simple loincloth, fishing spear in hand and his long dreads bundled atop his head in a messy topknot. The fisherfolk spent much of their day in the rivers wading and swimming, so the lack of any other accessories, like arm bands, limb guards or necklaces, all served to reduce friction while they swam. Even without all the embellishment, you had to admit Kai looked good.

Tutting your tongue you cocked your head at him and shrugged, “Well, you could’ve been a warrior too, Kai. I remember you did well in training.”

“Nah, the rivers have always called to me.” Kai answered assuredly. He held up a small parcel in his free hand, “Here, I noticed you missed breakfast so I brought you a niktsyey (food wrap) to take with you. You’ll need your energy.”

“Thank you.” You accepted the parcel gratefully, its delicious scent drawing another audible rumble from your stomach and you both laughed. Grinning at Kai, you placed a hand on his muscular chest and wished him well, “Eywa be with you, have a good day.”

Kai nodded, one of his large hands covering yours where it rested against him, “You too. I’ll see you tonight-”

“Neyomi!” A booming call of your name sounded in the near distance before you could utter your response. Neteyam.

Kai’s eyeline flicked over your shoulder and his ears pinned flat, his jaw clenching tightly. He squeezed your hand before taking a few steps back from you, letting it drop to your side again as Neteyam came striding up to the pair of you.

“Neteyam,” Kai greeted coolly, acknowledging the other male.

“Kai,” Neteyam’s acknowledgement was equally frigid.

Neteyam turned to regard you and you were momentarily struck by his arresting presence. Neteyam always looked striking, especially so when he was in full regalia with his arm bands, leather limb guards, cummerbund hugging his waist and dagger strapped across his chest. The glower on his face today was new, but the addition only seemed to add to the appeal.

“We’re already running behind time.” Neteyam’s gaze then shifted back to Kai, “I’m sure as commander of the fisherfolk you can appreciate the importance of timeliness where orders have been given to move out.” His words were a deliberate jab at Kai and the implication that he was holding you up was clear.

“I was just giving Neyomi some food to take with her.” Kai’s icy response was delivered with a scowl that rivalled Neteyam’s.

“The warriors have packed plenty of food for our journey. We’re more than prepared.” Neteyam hissed.

“Yes, but she missed breakfast this morning.” Kai countered, his posture and his glare throwing Neteyam an unspoken challenge, “Now, as future olo’eyktan, I’m sure you can appreciate the importance of looking after those in your command and ensuring they have what they need, the most basic of which is keeping them fed.”

The challenge was not well-received by Neteyam and the ferocious snarl that left him shocked you. Kai took a step back but returned a snarl of his own, both males baring their teeth with pinned ears and whipping tails.

“Enough! What the fuck is wrong with both of you?” You growled, maddened by their ridiculous behaviour, “If you’re done comparing cocks, then let’s all get to work, shall we? Since we’re so late.” Your last sentence was thrown at Neteyam with a glare, and you shoved past him to mount your pa’li.

Kai shot you an apologetic glance as you cantered past him towards your waiting platoon.

Flustered by the testosterone-fuelled interaction you’d just witnessed, you hastily unwrapped the niktsyey and took a big bite out of the savoury wrap. You paused. You couldn’t smell your food.

Kai’s and Neteyam’s scents had spiked during their spat, their bodies emitting a pungent surge of pheromones that now clogged your nostrils, both alluring and both very male. But only one of those scents lingered heavier and for longer than the other, tantalising you, causing your nipples to stiffen and sending liquid heat pooling between your thighs.

You sighed.

No prizes were being awarded for guessing whose scent was responsible for your body’s reaction…

***~~~***

You jolted awake with a start, the peaceful serenity of the surrounding woodland glade quickly coming back to you as Kai’s shoulder shifted a little beneath your cheek. Instantly, you felt remorse as you realised you’d done it yet again, fallen asleep on one of your date nights with Kai. The patch of young grass you were both lying on was soft beneath your elbow as you moved to prop yourself up into a sitting position. You turned contrite eyes at Kai who gave you a weak smile.

“Sorry, I fell asleep again.” You apologised shamefacedly, “You’re not boring, I swear. I think I’m just really tired tonight.”

“It’s alright,” Kai answered, his strong abdominals contracting as he pulled himself upright into a sitting position without using his arms. He reached out to pat at your hair on the side of your head that you’d fallen asleep on, smoothing down the fly-aways that had freed themselves from your braided locks. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, so it gave me some time to think.”

His kind face was vexed and a furrow creased his forehead. His thick mane of dreads was loose and they framed his head and shoulders quite impressively. It made him look very imposing, but you knew Kai was gentle-natured. It was one of the reasons he chose not to pursue a warrior’s path despite excelling in all his physical training tests. He preferred more temperate work as opposed to the potentially dangerous and adrenalin-filled rush of hunting and patrolling.

Feeling a renewed rush of penance as you took in his troubled mien, you took one of his hands in yours, “I feel bad. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. It’s a day of rest tomorrow so we can head out during the day, maybe take our ikran out for a flight and stop somewhere? Then you can tell me what’s bothering you, if you want to share.”

Kai was also easy-going and he usually leapt at any opportunity to spend time with you, but he seemed unsure today. He began worrying his lower lip between his teeth, appearing to be seriously deliberating your suggestion.

Growing apprehensive at the uncharacteristic and uncomfortable silence, you filled it, “Or not. We don’t have to if you’ve got other plans. I really am sorry for falling asleep. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

He chuckled and scratched uneasily at his jaw, “I’m not upset that you fell asleep, it’s OK really.”

“But?” You could sense there was something else weighing on him, something that was on the tip of his tongue that he was wavering over.

“I don’t think we should see each other like this anymore.”

Kai’s words were unexpected and they hit you like an unwelcome splash of cold water. Confusion flushed through you and you felt your own brows pull into a frown as you spluttered, “What? Why?”

“There are things going on in the background that need to be resolved and they’re outside my circle of control.”

There was something in the inflection of his voice, an unspoken implication that pointed at these unresolved issues being your responsibility to settle. He wasn’t being direct about his meaning though and your annoyance flared, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Look, I may have respectable standing in the hierarchy of this clan as commander of the fisherfolk, but even I have enough self-preservation to know better than to challenge the future olo’eyktan.” 

An incredulous scoff left you and you blinked in disbelief, “Wait, is this about what happened with Neteyam last week? Before we left on that yerik hunt?”

Kai’s silence was all the confirmation you required.

“No, Kai, come on. He was in a really bad mood that day. He’s not normally like that.”

Kai’s answering laugh was bitter and he shook his head, “Neteyam has been glaring daggers at me for weeks now. He’s territorial over you and he’s made his claim clear to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. It was ridiculous what you were hearing and indignance swelled within you, “That’s bullshit! He has no such claim on me whatsoever and if he’s told you so then he’s lying!”

“He’s not said anything, but it’s been clear in his behaviour.” Kai clarified.

“So what?” You exclaimed, your exasperation clear in the way you threw your hands into the air, “Don’t I get a say in this? You’re just going to tuck tail and run?”

“It’s not just that-”

But you weren’t listening. Your skin prickled with anger, outraged that Neteyam appeared to be consciously sabotaging your budding relationship with Kai. As if he hadn’t caused enough emotional turmoil in your life already… You were trying so hard to move on and for some reason unknown to you, Neteyam had decided to act up. The man had barely spoken three sentences to you in the last moon!

“I’ll talk to him.” You declared to Kai firmly, “I’ll set him straight!”

“Neyomi, stop. Listen.” Kai implored, clasping your hands in his to stop your heated gesticulations. The points of his ears lay flat, not angry, more defeated and unhappy. He held your gaze and his eyes were cheerless as he continued, “I know that you have history with Neteyam. I don’t know the exact details, nor do I want to. But whatever it is going on between you, I can’t continue seeing you like this until it’s resolved.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Neteyam.” You spat. Ain’t that the truth…

Kai let go of your hands, letting his own slide gently from yours before returning them to his lap. His voice when he spoke was a murmur, but his words were incriminating, “You talk in your sleep.”

You froze and dread seized hold of your heart at what you might have muttered unknowingly.

Consciously making every effort to appear unaffected by his words, you queried, “What did I say?”

“Just his name.”

You attempted to brush it off with a scoff, “What? Just now? I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, but I might’ve been having a work argument with him for goodness sake.”

Kai exhaled and he asserted more firmly. “No, you sighed his name. And it’s happened on more than once occasion.”

The gravity of the situation was plain and you were scrambling to formulate an answer, anything at all that would refute the impression that Kai had formed. You decided to stick to the facts.

“There isn’t anything and will never be anything between Neteyam and me. He’ll choose a woman fit to be our next tsahìk. That won’t be me.”

“So you don’t deny your feelings then?”

“W-What?” You stammered, taken aback by the directness of the question, “Neteyam can’t claim me, Kai! It’s not possible!”

With an exasperated growl that surprised even you, Kai slammed his palm down onto the lush grass beside him, “I’m not talking about him right now, I’m talking about you!”

It was surreal what was happening and an odd, foggy feeling was consuming you. Part of you was reeling in disbelief and another other part of you was simmering with ire.

Your answered in a quiet voice, “I want this to work.”

Kai’s sigh was heavy and when his gaze met yours again, you perceived firm resolution in them. He replied, “So do I, but it won’t work if your heart’s not in it.” He rested one hand on your knee, “Look, when all this has blown over, and if and when you’re ready to open up fully, you know where to find me. But I don’t want to be second-best and I don’t want to be settled for. I’ll see you round, sevin.”

With a sad smile, Kai squeezed your knee before rising to his feet. He threw you one last parting glance and departed, leaving you flummoxed in the glade. Your brain made a frantic attempt to sort through the whirlpool of your emotions; shock, woe, confusion… But the dominant emotion was anger. Beneath the surprise on the surface, you were frothing with rage, not at Kai, but at Neteyam.

There’d been inklings of something good with Kai, something you could grow into and learn to cherish. Sure, your body seemed slow on the uptake, but perhaps that would change as time passed and as the memories of your mistakes began to dull. However, Kai had snuffed that little flame of possibility out tonight.

You pressed your lips together in mounting irritation as your breaths began to heave louder and louder. You counted the days of the week and realised it was the fifth night, which was when you’d normally have gone to meet the brothers. Shack night. Perfect.

Hopefully the object of your ire would be where you expected him to be, because you had a mighty big bone to pick with him.

***~~~***

Neteyam swilled the pulpy residue of his rumautpxir (fermented cannonball fruit beer) that was left in the wooden vessel he held. The alcoholic odour of it burned his nose a little and it certainly burned going down his throat too, but the drink was a welcome indulgence on nights like these. He was reclined in a hammock strung inside the old shack and it swayed gently with his movements. The oil lamps about the place flickered, bathing the shack in a lambent glow. 

He expected your no-show tonight, to be fair. You hadn’t come to the shack for the last three weeks and tonight was the fourth in a row. Neteyam’s heart twisted sorely in his chest and his mind gave a mental eye-roll at the expected result. Licking his lips, he downed the bitter remnants of beer and swung his legs out of the hammock to get a refill.

The quiet chafing of a blade against wood filled the background while Lo’ak busied himself with carving a new wooden charm that he intended to affix to a choker necklace. Ordinarily he’d be yammering away to Neteyam whilst he worked, but his brother wasn’t in a talking mood tonight. Lo’ak had all but given up trying to convince him to speak to you. Sulky wasn’t a description Lo’ak would ever have used to describe Neteyam in the past, but the last four weeks had changed that.

Neteyam had always been quick to learn, quick to bounce back from setbacks, but you’d clearly wounded him acutely with your dismissal of his affections and his pride hadn’t recovered. This only served to exemplify to Lo’ak the depth of what his older brother felt for you, but Neteyam was convinced you didn’t feel the same and that talking to you would only wound him further.

“Want a refill, bro?” Neteyam asked, holding his hand out to receive Lo’ak’s empty vessel.

“Nah, thanks. I’m good. I’ve already had four tonight, which is plenty.” Lo’ak eyed the refilled vessel that Neteyam was nursing. This was easily his fifth or sixth of the night and his inebriation was clear in the slightly glazed look of his eyes. Thank Eywa that tomorrow was a day of rest for the clan…

The familiar swish and rustle of foliage outside the shack made Lo’ak’s ears twitch in keen attention. He set down his craftwork, eyeline instantly trained on the shack’s entrance. He saw Neteyam had turned to do the same. Someone was approaching and judging by the rapidly thumping crunch of leaves under their feet, they were approaching quickly.

In a flash, the heavy draping cloths at the shack’s entrance flew aside to admit you as you stormed through the entryway. Your breaths were audible and you were sporting a deep scowl. If he wasn’t a warrior, Lo’ak would’ve jumped at the ferocity of your entrance. However, the only thought that crossed his mind as he took in your outraged state was that you reminded him very much of their mother Neytiri in that instant, all fearsome grace and incredible beauty.

“You!” You snarled, catching sight of Neteyam and closing the distance between you in several big strides. You aimed a forceful shove against his chest with both arms, causing him to take a step back.

The sight of your figure storming into the shack was a shock to Neteyam, but he only had seconds to ponder if it was a drunken hallucination before your violent shove knocked him backward. He hissed a curse as his drink slopped messily over his hand and wrist from the force.

Neteyam hissed caustically, fixing you with narrowed eyes, “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that shoving someone while they’re holding a drink is rude?”

“Well, let me solve that problem for you then.” You snatched the vessel from his hand and brought it to your lips. Tipping your head back, you downed the contents in three large gulps. The alcohol scorched its way down your throat and you grimaced, its bitter fumes stinging your nose and making your eyes water.

“Whoa, easy sweet thing. You’re supposed to drink that stuff slowly.” Lo’ak remarked, carefully setting aside his work and dusting his hands off to get to his feet. He moved closer to Neteyam, but stopped short of standing beside him, opting to stand a few feet away instead. He sensed that things were going to turn heated between you and his brother.

Recovering quickly from the alcohol’s physical assault on your senses, you slammed your hands against Neteyam’s shoulders again in another shunt, “You need to leave Kai alone! Mind your own business and stay out of my shit!”

Neteyam was quick to catch you by your elbows though and his firm grip encircled your upper arms. He emitted a hoarse chortle and he smirked at you, “Kai sending you to fight his battles for him, is he?”

You could tell Neteyam was drunk, the sweet odour of the beer lingering on his breath and seeping from his pores to mingle with his scent. You squirmed, fighting his hold but failed to break free. You carried on your tirade nonetheless, “How dare you intimidate him! You’ve got no right. You’ve got no claim over me whatsoever and you never will!”

Your last words were a shriek and even Lo’ak felt their impact. He snuck a cautious glance at Neteyam and saw the effect they had on him. His brother’s jaw was clenched, his upper lip curled in a slight snarl. Lo’ak sighed internally. Eywa, your words were just another blow to his brother’s pride…

Neteyam fought to hide the injury your words caused him. It was yet another painful reminder that you didn’t return his affections. He still had a hold of you and your chin was tilted up defiantly as you stared up at him in challenge.

He growled, “If Kai has a problem with me then perhaps he needs to grow a pair and bring it up with me himself.”

Your mouth snapped shut then and you couldn’t find any appropriate response to Neteyam’s retort without having to admit that Kai had ended things with you tonight. All you could do was glare at him. You realised in that moment that while Kai’s decision to break up with you was upsetting, you weren’t hurt by it. You were disappointed, maybe? But the root cause of your current bitterness was really Neteyam’s audacious interference.

Neteyam watched you, his amber orbs piercing your own gaze as he waited for your answer. Your response never came and that in itself was telling. He understood then what had happened and he snorted, “He didn’t fight for you, did he? Typical.”

Lo’ak pursed his lips at the hypocrisy of Neteyam’s remark and he couldn’t help the smartass comment that left him in a mutter, “Bit rich coming from you, bro.” His brother’s reaction was instant and a snarl of warning was thrown his way.

Much to Lo’ak’s disappointment, you didn’t catch on to his meaning and you continued to twist in Neteyam’s hold. You shrieked, “Only because you’re throwing your weight around where you have no business doing so! Let me go, kurkung (asshole)!”

Your struggling only seemed to spur Neteyam on further and he looped a muscled arm around your waist, clutching you to him. Trapped against his torso now, you cursed your traitorous body as it took note of how hot his body was, and how the heady musk of his scent filled your nose. You’d missed this, missed him… You were angry still, but the heat of your ire was quickly waning. Being in his arms felt so disastrously right…

Neteyam crushed your slighter frame to his, scenting the skin of your neck in small puffing sniffs. He could smell you so clearly at this proximity and he hated that he could smell Kai on you. It’d been weeks since he’d held you against him and the addition of his alcohol-induced confidence made him daring with his words, “You stink of him, paskalin.”

“Don’t call me that. Let me go and you won’t have to smell it anymore.” You hissed, but it sounded half-hearted even to your own ears as the words left you.

“No.” Neteyam’s voice was a rumbling purr and he rubbed his cheeks against yours while his hands roamed the expanse of your slender back.

You knew what he was doing. He was marking you with his scent. Your body warred with the logic in your mind. Your conscience told you to finish saying your piece and leave, but your body wanted to indulge in this gorgeous male it had been denied the pleasure of for weeks. Your neck prickled when the heat of another warm body closed in on you from behind. Lo’ak.

“Forget about Kai. He doesn’t deserve you if he won’t fight for you.” Lo’ak murmured matter-of-factly, settling his hands on your hips and caressing your skin. His eyes locked with Neteyam’s behind your back then and he gave his older brother a sharp and pointed look, “The right man will.”

“I’m not staying. I didn’t come here for this.” Your tone was more breathless than you’d anticipated and you could feel the alcohol you’d foolishly guzzled earlier settling in a haze over you, clouding your inhibitions. Your head was craned to the side, your jaw cradled in one of Neteyam’s hands while his lips worshipped the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You don’t sound very convinced, sweet thing.” Lo’ak chuckled hoarsely. His hands stroked in a bold path from your hips to your bottom, squeezing the pert flesh of your derriere, “We’ve missed you since you’ve been away spending time with that skxawng.”

“Leave Kai alone. What’s your problem with him?”

Never one to pass on an opportunity to crack a joke, Lo’ak snickered and crowed, “Nothing. There’s just something fishy about him.”

It was a corny attempt at a joke, but it elicited an amused chortle from Neteyam nonetheless and even you had to fight a grin.

However, the moment of light-heartedness was short-lived and you reminded yourself of why you’d even come to the shack in the first place. You fortified your defences, squirming away from Neteyam only to find your back wedged against Lo’ak’s front. You were thoroughly sandwiched between them.

You pressed your point insistently again, “Stop it, both of you. I came here to make a point, now let me go.”

“Aww come on, sweet thing. You might as well stay and play now that you’re here.” Lo’ak cooed, tracing the fingers of one hand up the seam of your buttocks to grasp the base of your tail. He twisted it in his palm and the feeling sent a sensual shudder through you. “You didn’t even say goodbye the last time.”

Lo’ak’s lips began their own assault on the free side of your neck that Neteyam wasn’t attending to, and you fought the urge to whimper. Their hot hands were everywhere; gripping your hips, tickling your ribs and caressing your tail. There was so much of them against you, hot and masculine and Great Mother did they smell good. Their scents were familiar, strangely comforting yet also tantalising in the promise of the pleasure you knew the brothers could bring you.

And by Eywa, you had missed the pleasure… Your body ached for it… The urge to just give in was so strong. In your mind, it was as if you stood on the edge of an abyss within which raged a churning whirlpool that would swallow you whole if you stepped off the ledge.

Neteyam’s lips wandered from your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw and up to the corner of your lips. You stiffened. You wanted his kiss, craved the sweet, searing heat of it… But no, you’d be taking five steps backward if you were stupid tonight…You turned your face from his.

Neteyam’s jaw tightened at your refusal. Fine, still no kissing… But he was desperate and he would take what he could get from you. He uttered his request, “Alright, you’ve made your point. I’ll back off Kai, but only if you stay tonight. One last time, paskalin.”

Lo’ak chimed in with a filthy promise by your other ear, “You know you won’t regret it. You never do.”

Your knees almost buckled and you knew your mind had lost the fight against your body when you felt your inner walls clench and flutter involuntarily.

Fuck it. Fuck logic, fuck your conscience.

You’d spent the better part of the last several weeks trying to pick up the pieces of your dignity, only to find yourself right back where you started every time you’d faked an orgasm with Kai and then touched yourself to thoughts of Neteyam after. You just wanted to feel good now, wanted to feel your body detonate with mindless ecstasy. Fuck it all. You’d deal with your regression later. That was a tomorrow problem.

Their breaths were hot around you and you could smell the alcohol they’d both imbibed. Their loincloths didn’t do much to disguise their erections. Their hard arousals dug into your flesh, one poking insistently into one round of your bottom while another was nestled against your lower belly.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you hissed an impertinent taunt, “You’re both steaming drunk. How long can you keep those cocks hard for?”

Their dark chuckles resonated in the shack as the brothers smirked triumphantly at each other. Lo’ak’s fingers were already flying to untie your loincloth while Neteyam dropped to his knees and pushed your breasts free of their covering, opting to indulge himself with a taste of your nipples while his fingers dealt with discarding the covering there.

“You let us worry about our cocks and just focus on yourself. Rest assured we’ll stay hard long enough to do more than satisfy you.” Lo’ak guaranteed, and without any verbal warning, he hauled your now nude form into his arms and carried you to the main play area at the back of the shack.

He settled you on your feet before the large mirror in the space to divest himself of his own clothing. When he straightened to full height again, just as bare now as you were, you reached out to give his proud cock a stroke. Lo’ak sucked a breath in through his teeth and his hips jolted forward into your grasp, “Oh, he’s missed you alright. Tonight’s not about us boys though. It’s all you, sweet thing.”

Neteyam wasn’t far behind and he returned to join you and Lo’ak. He’d clearly paid a visit to the toy box and he deposited a few of your favourite toys onto the bed behind you. He strode up to you, but before you could greet his naked body in the same manner you’d greeted Lo’ak’s, he clasped your chin in a firm but not ungentle hold. Tilting your face up to his, he eyed the outline of your plush lips.

For a moment, you thought Neteyam was going to infringe on the boundary you’d set as his face neared yours. His lips grazed yours, but it was the lightest of touches and not quite a kiss. You both felt and heard him as he murmured against your lips, “Since you won’t let me kiss these, I’ll have to content myself with kissing you everywhere else. Any other boundaries tonight?”

Freeing both of your hands, you ran your palms down his front, enjoying the ridges and planes of his muscled chest and defined abdominals beneath your fingers. Finally reaching him where he strained the hardest, you gripped his cock and pumped your fist several times, spreading the already beading pre-cum over the rigid length of him. Neteyam flinched at the contact and his eyes slid shut in pleasure.

“No, no other boundaries. Just the usual. Same safeword.”

A low purr of approval sounded from Lo’ak behind you and he reached around you to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking repeatedly over the peaked buds of your lilac-coloured nipples. You moaned wantonly and pushed your bosom out towards his touch, the pleasure pulses zinging in a direct line from your nipples to your pussy. Neteyam swiped two fingers between the apex of your thighs and, even without looking, you could tell you were embarrassingly wet already just by how easily his fingers moved through your folds.

Neteyam brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off in a slow, smacking suck. He groaned quietly and nodded his head at his brother.

It was a signal that Lo’ak understood without words. Standing behind you, he crouched to slide his hands down your thighs, before gripping you behind both knees and suddenly lifting you, folding you in half with your thighs splayed wide. He sat down on the edge of the bed then and hooked each of your knees over his, leaving your bottom dangling down between his shins.

You gave a startled cry at the change in position. It was a new position to you too. You were facing your reflection in the mirror and the wanton young woman who stared back at you tonight was a far cry from the sobbing mess you’d been most nights in the last while. Your folded body was hanging in what could only be described as a deep squat, your arms and knees hooked over Lo’ak’s splayed thighs to keep you suspended just above the floor. You were nimble though and the position was oddly comfortable despite how it looked.

The position left you helpless and completely exposed, but judging by the hungry expression that both brothers were sporting, it was exactly what they wanted.

Neteyam situated himself in front of you, stretching out on his front and balancing the weight of his upper body on his elbows. His face was parallel with where he wanted to ravish you, but before he indulged, his gaze flicked up to meet yours and he checked in with you gently, “You comfortable there?”

You nodded and your answer was quiet, “Yeah, I’m good.”

This was the sweet side of him, you mused. It was the side of him that you loved most, and it was the side that you hadn’t seen in a while. Your interactions since the night at the hot spring had been awkward and then they’d dwindled to become few and far between as you both avoided each other. Your work day conversations were kept to a minimum and whenever you had spoken, he’d been clipped and guarded. You’d missed seeing this sweet side of Neteyam…

Although, it was also this tender side of him that had made you run in the first place…

The corner of Neteyam’s lips quirked upward in a small smile and he scooted forward to cup your bottom, helping to support your weight as he lowered his lips to your waiting core. He kissed your folds then, languidly, his lips and tongue stroking and sweeping over your flesh as if he was kissing you on your mouth instead. Your breath stuttered and the muscles in your thighs tightened at the delicious sensation.

Your reflection was a sensually gratuitous picture. Your eyes were hooded and your cheeks and chest were flushed a deeper hue of violet. Neteyam’s head bobbed and shifted between your thighs where he pleasured you, and you could see that Lo’ak was enjoying the show. He had his cock in hand and the slippery length of it was disappearing in and out of his tight grasp whilst he stroked himself.

You were entirely at Neteyam’s mercy in this position. You couldn’t move or grind your hips against him. He had complete control of the situation and all you could do was squirm and whine his name while he worked. He was suckling intently at your clit now, your pussy throbbing with the rhythm of your pleasure.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like that.” Lo’ak groaned, watching you through the mirror, “You want to cum so bad, don’t you?”

Neteyam’s fingers were digging into your hips where he held you and you canted your hips as much as you could against his face, “Y-Yes, but I need more-”

With a small pop, Neteyam released his hold on you and you gasped at the sudden lack of stimulation. His grin was a dirty one and he clucked at you as he shifted to sit upright, “So impatient. We’re going to take our time with you tonight.”

Lo’ak chortled in agreement and he reached over to pass two toys over to his brother, “One last hurrah, right? Gotta savour it.”

“You taste like nectar, paskalin. So sweet and so soft.” Neteyam crooned, toying with something in his right hand.

You glanced downward and you recognised the glass butt plug he was holding. They’d used it on you in the past. It was good size, neither too big nor too small. It was just big enough to give you a feeling of fullness in a place you’d never explored in this way before the brothers, and you certainly never expected it to feel as good as it had.

Neteyam ran the cool surface of the plug against your pussy, lubricating it with your copious moisture. He teased you deliberately, letting the glass bulb of it slip into your pussy a few times, causing a mix of curses to tumble from your lips. He smoothed his thumb over your butthole with his other hand, slowly letting the digit work its way past the tightness of the outer ring of muscle at its entrance. You were chanting his name under your breath like a prayer now, eager for him to insert the plug.

Lo’ak’s own breathing was laboured and he stifled a few curses of his own, slowing down his palming of his cock, “Shit Neteyam, just give it to her already.”

“Losing your control?” Neteyam goaded with a sneer, “It’s alright. You can blow your load. You don’t need to fuck her tonight. I’m happy to do all the honours.”

“Not a chance, bro. I’m not missing out.”

Your pussy squeezed hard at Neteyam’s display of possessiveness. It was so fucked up, especially given the circumstances, how your body thrilled to know that he wanted you for himself. It was so fucked up also on another count that you were excited by the idea of his sexual possession, but his emotional possession had sent you running for the hills. But you knew it was only because you’d end up hurt, you both would… If there was a way that you could have him as more than a playmate, perhaps as a potential mate for life, you’d have drowned happily in his tender affections.

The sore turn of your thoughts was halted when you felt Neteyam press the glass bulb of the plug against your butthole. The feeling of the pressing stretch as he worked it into you cleared your mind and you were forced to breathe through the slightly uncomfortable sensation.

“Relax for me, good girl.” Neteyam murmured, his free hand rubbing gentle circles over your clit.

With a quick slip and clench, your body accepted the plug, seating it into its intended position inside your rear. The discomfort of its initial entry faded and was replaced by a gratifying sense of fullness. The plug was weighted and the slight heaviness of it was a wonderful addition. You closed your eyes, relishing the feeling and you heard the familiar click and whirr of another toy coming to life in Neteyam’s hands.

“You take that plug so well, sweet thing.” Lo’ak praised, leaning down to pepper the side of your face with a few kisses, “I love watching it pulse as you enjoy your pleasure. You going to put on a show for us tonight?”

Your response was a skreich of pleasure when Neteyam parted your folds to settle the clit sucker over your little nub. Your clit was already so sensitive and swollen from his earlier suckling. The toy’s intense and pulsing suction formed a seal around it immediately, throwing you straight onto the racetrack towards a powerful orgasm. Your pelvic muscles quickly settled into a thumping tempo, your inner walls contracting and releasing with bliss, making the glass plug physically jump where it was seated in your ass.

Cracking open your eyes you spied yourself in the mirror, splayed open as you were before with a clit sucker held against you while your pussy and ass visibly pulsated. Your slick was trickling out of you and down your rear with each squeeze of your core. It was a horribly obscene yet incredibly arousing image that you were sure would make any heterosexual man salivate. Your mouth was slack as you mewled and cried out, and sure enough, you discovered both brothers were furiously working their cocks while they watched; Lo’ak seated on the bed above you and Neteyam sitting on his heels beside you.

With another audible click, you felt it when Neteyam turned the intensity of the clit sucker up a couple of levels and within moments your first orgasm crashed into you. A hoarse cry left you as your torso and thigh muscles went rigid, your entire core bursting with bliss. There were mutual groans coming from both Neteyam and Lo’ak too, but in the height of your pleasure, the noise sounded muffled and far away.

“Fuck, Neyomi. I need you right now.” Lo’ak ground out through gritted teeth, “I want to feel your pussy squeeze around me like that when you cum.”

There was commotion as Lo’ak pulled you upward from where you dangled between his legs. He settled you on your side on the plush bedding. Your legs tingled numbly and they felt like they were no longer solid.

“Do you think you can get onto your hands and knees for me, sweet thing?” Lo’ak urged, steadying you as you made an attempt to roll onto your knees. He caught sight of the thunder on his older brother’s face then and he rolled his eyes, peeved, “Sharing is caring, bro. I can’t fucking wait anymore.”

“Don’t be too long. And don’t-”

“Yes, yes I know! Don’t cum inside her.” Lo’ak waved Neteyam off irascibly, “I know the drill.”

Manoeuvring onto all fours, you found, to your relief, that your limbs were fairly stable. Your legs were still tingling, but the numbness had disappeared now and you could hold yourself up just fine. You felt Lo’ak mount you from behind and he gave the butt plug a teasing tug while he lined his cock up with your entrance. Eager to be penetrated, you lowered yourself onto your elbows with your rump high in the air.

Lo’ak didn’t waste a moment more. He ran the head of his cock over your folds once and then plunged into your wet heat with a brutal thrust of his hips. His cock easily slid to its hilt with how slick you were and a harsh groan was his reaction to the feel of your walls enveloping his length. Gripping your hips, he drew his hips back and thrust in again, earning him a guttural cry from you.

Neteyam leaned against the wall on the adjacent side, facing you so he could watch your face dance with your many expressions of pleasure. Lo’ak was less patient than he was and Neteyam wanted to be the last to have you so he could take his time. He tried his best to focus on you instead of the fact that his brother was fucking you. It was an exercise he was used to by now, given that this was always the order of things when you’d visited the shack. Not that sharing you had become any easier the more you’d visited the shack…

Neteyam was impatient tonight though. He hadn’t had you in weeks and things had been strained. Though he hoped otherwise, tonight was quite possibly the last time he’d ever have you. Especially if you were going to try and work things out with Kai… He had promised you earlier that he would back off. If Kai was truly who you wanted, then Neteyam wouldn’t stand in the way. His heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought.

If tonight was to be the last time he could have you like this, then he was going to make the most of it. He was going to try to steal a kiss from you tonight by hook or by crook.

Through the jarring smack of Lo’ak’s hips against yours, you saw Neteyam watching moodily from against the wall. He had his arms crossed over his chest, but his cock was still hard and standing at attention, jutting out from his narrow hips. A thin string of pre-cum was dangling from its thick head and your mouth watered, wanting to lick it away and taste it. Lo’ak had set a steady pace and one of his hands was skilfully working at your clit while he thrusted. You could feel your second orgasm building gradually, but you were still distracted by the sight of Neteyam’s cock.

Unable to speak because your breath was being forcefully pushed from you with each of Lo’ak’s thrusts, you caught Neteyam’s eye and extended a hand out towards him. You curled your fingers, wordlessly beckoning him to come towards you where you were positioned on your hands and knees at the edge of the bed. He seemed to catch your drift and he pushed off the wall to stalk towards you.

Once he was within reach, your encircled his erection with one hand and tugged him closer until his knees were flush against the bed. A particularly hard thrust caused you to lose your balance and you let go of him, palm slamming flat against to the bedding again to steady yourself. Your mouth had been open though and your intention had been clear enough to Neteyam. He grinned and guided his cock to your lips, which parted again to receive him.

“Oh paskalin,” Neteyam’s breath rushed from him as your mouth engulfed him with moist, tight suction.

You couldn’t take him all the way in your position without the risk of choking and hurting yourself due to Lo’ak’s thrusting, but you could take him half way. You sucked in your cheeks and swirled your tongue over the tip of him, enjoying the salty-sweet taste of his pre-cum. You didn’t even need to bob your head, courtesy of Lo’aks jolting thrusts.

The sight of you spit-roasted on two cocks between him and his brother was enough to almost make Neteyam lose his control. He closed his eyes, willing his throbbing cock to just teeter on the edge of bliss without spilling. He burned the image of you into his memories; the way your lips stretched over his thick girth; the way you whimpered as your body jerked while you were being railed; the way your eyes watered a little every time a hard thrust made his cock head hit the back of your throat.

Lo’ak’s intermittent groans were becoming more frequent now and his pants were getting harsher. You knew you were close too with how your pussy seemed to be trying to swallow more of him with each pulsating throb. The consistent rub of his fingers over your swollen nub made your core burn with impending ecstasy, your climax so close yet not quite within reach. But you knew what would send you over the edge, you knew whose eyes you wanted to lose yourself in as you came.

Neteyam’s thumbs stroked at your cheeks encouragingly and you pulled your head back as far as you could so you could catch his eyes. A pleasure-filled frown was twisting his handsome face and the moment his piercing golden orbs locked with your green irises, your second climax shattered you. Your pussy clenched down hard and you heard Lo’ak emit a gravelly shout.

Lo’ak had never felt anything as intense. He was supposed to withdraw and spill outside you, but your orgasm triggered his own like a sudden and hot strike of lightning at the base of his spine. Your inner muscles had clamped down on his cock, his own climax merciless as he felt himself ejaculate. He hadn’t had time and he couldn’t help it. Instead of pulling out, his primal instincts overwhelmed him and forced his hips to stay pressed against your rump while he spilled.

An unrestrained string of curse words left Lo’ak as he withdrew afterward, collapsing onto his side in a heap of heaving breaths. Neteyam’s displeasure was immediate and a harsh growl filled the air. He pulled his cock free of your mouth and he would’ve rounded on his younger brother if not for your hand, which had caught him around one wrist.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t stop it!” Lo’ak exclaimed, dragging a hand down his face and pawing at his eyes, “I lost control, alright? I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“It’s OK.” You placated, tugging on Neteyam’s wrist. His expression was still marred by a snarl and you gingerly rose onto your knees to smooth a soothing palm over his chest, “Calm down. It’s my body and I’m OK with it.”

Neteyam wanted to tell you that he didn’t care that you were alright with it. He wasn’t alright with it. He wanted to be the only brother in that space to have you that way, and Lo’ak knew that. His brother was more than aware of what it meant to him to be the sole bearer of that privilege.

“I swear it was an accident, bro.” Lo’ak mumbled tamely.

You saw Neteyam shoot an unimpressed glower at his brother and you caressed his cheek, drawing his attention back to you, “Come on, put your hands on me. How do you want me? Facing you or from behind?” You took his hands and placed them over your breasts, loving the feel of his rough palms against your nipples.

A peculiar sense of déjà vu washed over Neteyam at your question and he realised it was the same question he’d asked you on your very first visit to the shack: Do you want me to take you from behind or do you want me to face you?...

It was a poignant moment for him and he echoed your original answer from that first night back to you, never feeling the truth of them more than he did in that instant, “I want to kiss you.”

Your eyes softened and he saw sadness cloud your irises. You remembered too.

Your soft fingers stroked Neteyam’s jaw and you murmured despondently, “You can kiss me everywhere. Anywhere but here.” The fingers of your free hand touched your own lips and you kissed them, before pressing those fingers to his lips.

Neteyam’s eyes were aggrieved, but he toppled you onto the bed anyway and covered your body with his. It seemed he’d taken your answer seriously as he began to leave a trail of hot open-mouthed kisses down your body: from your cheeks, down your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your navel and lower. Your skin prickled in heated anticipation; your arousal still high despite your first two climaxes. Neteyam seemed to have that effect on you. Your body would always respond to his and it could keep going.

Neteyam reached for the last toy that they hadn’t yet used tonight. The wand vibrator.

Parting your azure thighs, he found the butt plug still nestled neatly in your rear and your core glistened with your slick and the pearlescent remains of his brother’s cum. The reminder of Lo’ak’s mistake annoyed him, but he had to admit that the vision of the sticky mess smeared over your pussy was very arousing.

The wand came to life with a low whirr and he ran it gently over your luscious folds. You jumped with a moan, the intense and rumbling vibrations of the toy stimulating every last nerve ending between your thighs. Your pussy pulsed and the butt plug jumped with the flex and lax of your pelvic muscles. Lo’ak had recovered from his earlier orgasm and had quietly rejoined to play. He busied himself with your breasts, letting his tongue rasp over their sensitive peaks while his fingers fondled and squeezed.

“Come on, paskalin, you know what the aim of the game is.” Neteyam purred, focusing the head of the wand on your clit while two of his fingers curled inside your pussy to find your g-spot.

“Ohhh Eywa!” You squealed, thighs quaking and tail curling under as Neteyam’s fingers found their target swiftly and efficiently.

All it took was for him to apply pressure with his curling strokes and your body skyrocketed to the precipice again. The pleasure was so intense with the wand that chills raced their way across the expanse of your skin. The burning pressure built and built in your lower belly. Your clit throbbed under the wand’s unforgiving assault, and combined with the full feeling of the plug still in your bottom, you hurtled over the precipice for a third time with a scream. Your entire frame seized and you pushed through the euphoric blow of your orgasm, releasing the pressure with a wet squirt that you knew was inevitable the moment Neteyam had laid his hands on you.

You began to writhe in discomfort, your body oversensitive now and uncomfortable. Neteyam’s fingers left you, but the wand remained over your swollen and stinging clit. You tried to squirm away from it, reaching down with your hands, only for Lo’ak to stop you, “Nuh uh, we’re not done, sweet thing. Use your safeword if you need it. Otherwise, you’re going to have to ride the overstimulation out.”

“W-Wait, no!” You wriggled and twisted, the stimulation almost too much and yet it was still so incredibly good.

“Use your safeword, Neyomi.” Lo’ak reminded.

When your safeword didn’t leave your lips, Neteyam positioned his hips at your parted thighs, still holding the wand in place with one hand. He added, “One last hurrah, and we’re going to make it worth your while.” Aligning himself with your pussy, he pushed his thick cock inside you.

The speed of his penetration had been slow and steady, but you felt every single bit of him; from the swollen head of his cock to each raised ridge on his shaft. You felt as if you were melting around him, as if your body was moulding itself perfectly to his. It was absolute paradise.

The triple stimulation you were experiencing was devastatingly good. You could feel the girth of his cock grinding against the butt plug through your inner walls as he thrusted with each roll of his hips. Your mind was blissfully clear as your pleasure heightened again another notch, every single cell of your being focused on the never-ending rapture that appeared to have consumed you whole. You didn’t even know if you were climaxing or not because it just seemed to carry on.

When another pulsing squirt gushed from you, Neteyam abandoned the wand and pinned you beneath him in full missionary position. There was only a moment’s reprieve from the assault of pleasure while Neteyam repositioned himself before he hips began their relentless onslaught again. You clung on for dear life, your ankles crossed behind his back, your arms looped about his ribs, nails raking his skin.

Burying his face against the side of yours, Neteyam ground out his assertions, “This might be your last night here, paskalin, but you’ll never forget this. You’ll never forget us and how we made you feel.”

“Y-Yes…” Your answer was a shaky whisper.

“We’re going to have all of you tonight, you hear me?” Neteyam continued, and it was testament to his athletic strength and stamina that he could keep up whisper to you while maintaining the speedy canting of his hips, “I’m going to cum so deep inside you and when I’m done, my brother and I are both going to take you at the same time.”

Beads of wetness seeped from the corners of your eyes to run into your braided hair and you realised you were crying. Whether from overstimulation, from the filthy promise of Neteyam’s words, or from the looming reminder that you were going to be an emotional wreck tomorrow, you weren’t sure.

You hiccupped softly and Neteyam pressed a kiss to your wet cheek. He couldn’t hide the tinge of concern in his tone, “Those better be tears of joy. You know what to do if it gets too much.”

You shook your head, clutching on even tighter to him as what felt like another tidal wave of pleasure began cresting towards you. Your body tightened around his, your core squeezing around his cock in preparation to milk him dry. The tidal wave curled and crashed in the next moment and you screamed his name, your pussy squeezing and squirting so hard that the butt plug was ejected from your bottom by your pelvic muscles.

Neteyam roared his climax into the plush bedding by your head. Your pussy contracted and pulsed in time with the spurting of his cock, and he could feel the warm heat of his cum filling you. Great Mother, he never wanted to be without you like this… Everything about you was good and right… Instinctively, not wanting to suffocate you with his dead weight, he rolled off you to rest on his side.

Your hitching breaths were a staccato harmony to his ragged breathing. Everything on your body was buzzing with oversensitivity. Your nipples tingled uncomfortably and you felt feverishly hot between your legs. Your skin felt too tight all over you and your nose was a little stuffy from mucus. However, if you thought you were going to be able to lie there for a bit, you were wrong.

Neteyam called out to Lo’ak, who was reclined on your other side, “Roll her over onto you, bro, gently.”

You blinked teary eyes at Lo’ak as he scooted closer to you. He stroked your forehead and your cheeks, wiping away the sticky tears that rolled down your face, “Shh, one last thing ok, sweet thing? One last thing and then we’ll take care of you and you can sleep.”

Taking your upper arm, Lo’ak pulled your upper body over his, before hooking his palm behind your knee to haul the rest of you over him. You were lying front to front with him and he settled your cheek against his shoulder and collarbone. You instinctively curled against him, tucking your arms against his ribs and tucking your knees up under you by his hips. Unbeknownst to you, it was exactly the position they wanted you in.

You’d heard other women speak of the term ‘fucked dumb’ before, and you’d merely thought they were joking or exaggerating. But you understood it now. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess and coherent words were far from your lips.

“No one will ever make you feel this way again,” Lo’ak murmured to you, and you felt him shift your bottom over his pelvis. It didn’t surprise you anymore that his cock was erect again. Both brothers appeared to be at the height of their virility currently. Two rounds was no issue, some nights even three.

You felt like putty and allowed Lo’ak to guide himself into your silky heat once more. In your position, your body sank onto his cock easily and you whimpered again at the girthy stretch of him. Lo’ak chuckled, “Now for the good part.”

The bedding dipped a little on either side of you and Lo’ak when Neteyam came to position himself behind you. He was straddling your hips in a crouch and you felt him bring your tail over one of his shoulders. His earlier words rang in your ears and you understood what he was about to do… My brother and I are both going to take you at the same time…

Neteyam ran his thumb over your puckered butthole. Between your slick and his cum, there was plenty of lubrication available for what he intended. He caressed one round of your pert bottom and pulled the flesh aside a little, “I said I wanted to have all of you, Neyomi.”

An audible gasp left you as the blunt head of Neteyam’s cock pressed at your rear entrance. He said nothing to reassure you, but his touch was gentle and cautious. He pushed further and you felt your body resist the girth of him. You breathed deeply, fighting to relax the muscles like they’d taught you when you’d first been introduced to the butt plugs. Slowly but surely, your body accepted him and he slid into your bottom with a tight groan that was echoed by both yourself as well as Lo’ak.

The fullness was exquisite. The three of you remained still, just getting used to the sensation and enjoying the initial wonder of something new.

Balancing on the balls of his feet while he straddled you, Neteyam’s voice was an indulgent purr, “You feel fucking amazing.”

Lo’ak began to move first, just a slow and shallow rock of his hips and it amazed you that Neteyam synced in with him almost immediately in the opposite direction. When one brother pulled outward, the other pushed inward, their cocks slipping in and out of you in coordinated tandem.

The dual stimulation was definitely overwhelming. You were quite literally stuffed full of them both and it was an incredibly intimate position. Neither of them were thrusting particularly deeply, both just rocking their hips with you sandwiched between their bodies. It was slow and sweet, and it felt strangely like making tender love with two people at once.

It was the most tender that either of them had been with you all night. There was just one thing missing that would make things perfect; one crucial thing that would see you violate the very boundary that you had set for yourself if you did it. A kiss.

Tonight was your last night with Neteyam and Lo’ak, it had to be. From tomorrow, you’d have to put all of this behind you, keep it locked away in the deepest recesses of your mind. Forget about Lo’ak. Forget about Neteyam. Try to work things out with Kai and move on with your life.

The reckless part of you offered up the idea of crossing your boundary again. It was your last night here and look at all you’d done with them tonight already. Surely crossing that line couldn’t hurt that much more, right? What was one last kiss in light of everything you’d done tonight?

Your heart trilled with contentment at the thought. You would remember their bodies and remember the touch of their hands; remember their scents and remember their voices as they teased you and praised you. You resolved to share one last kiss with each of them, so you would also remember the feel of their lips against yours too.

You raised your chin to look at the brother closest to you. Lo’ak raised a brow at you and a corner of his lips quirked upward in a small smile. With shaky breaths you eyed the cupid’s bow of his upper lip. One last kiss from each of them Neyomi, and then tomorrow it’s back to reality… Carefully, you leaned downward and gently slanted your lips over his.

Abruptly, the tender and serene mood was splintered by an ireful hiss from Neteyam. You jumped, pulling back from Lo’ak to see him regarding you with a confused expression, the furrow between his brows knitting deeper with every passing moment. The gentle rocking of your bodies ceased and you cried out as Neteyam swiftly withdrew himself from your body in a jarring tug.

Everything happened so quickly and the last thing you perceived, as you craned your head backward, was Neteyam’s frame storming angrily from the shack.

Lo’ak moved beneath you, taking you by your hips to roll you gently onto your side again. You could see your own confusion mirrored back at you through his amber irises. Your body buzzed still from the aftermath of your pleasure and your brain was a foggy muddle.

“What just happened?” You asked meekly.

Lo’ak scoffed and shook his head at you, appearing equally bewildered and upset, “I could ask you the same thing. What the fuck are you playing at?”

***~~~*** Part V - The Fault Is Ours now HERE

Author's Note:

Gaaaah another cliffhanger!! 🫣 Spill your thoughts and all your messy emotions to me, my bebes! Neteyam is such a stubborn ass, right? And oh that unwitting mistake that Neyomi made at the end... 🥲

I hope this made your heart squeeze as well as other places... Thanks for reading. I love each and everyone of you that supports me. Comments, reblogs and likes are all very much appreciated! 😘

Taglist note: There are so many of you who've asked to be tagged that I've exceed the tag limit. So if you haven't been tagged in the body of this post, I haven't forgotten you! I've probably tagged you in another post that links you back to this one. 💖

Taglist:

@teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair  @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Joy ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ Johnnie mentions *ending himself* thoughts tho it’s not explicit at all, insecurity, crying, not accurate to johnnies real insecurities

summary: ʚ Johnnie gets insecure and reader comforts him ɞ

Words: 1153

An: heyy babes this is inspired just by the fact Johnnie has said he hasn’t been doing too good lately and i just wanted to comfort him and even tho i know he will never see this he deserves some peace.

SUPPORT ME

It has been a slow day so far, you had just done some housework on your day off. Johnnie had been asleep for a while but he usually is. You had finally stopped cleaning and were letting some chicken nuggets cook in the air fryer.

You were just checking your timeline when you heard your bedroom door open. You saw a sleepy Johnnie move from your shared room to the bathroom. You smiled watching his Pajama pants fade into the distant glow of the room.

The air fryer went off letting you know you needed to flip the nuggets and put them in for more time. You set your phone down on the counter, turn around, take the basket out, and flip the food slightly.

As you continued to cook Johnnie quietly patterned into the kitchen, fear wrapping around his heart. By the time you had turned around, he had seriously debated wiping his tears away and pretending the past few hours hadn't happened.

But luckily you did turn around and saw Johnnie standing awkwardly by the kitchen counter. Holding his left arm with his right hand looking away. “Oh good morning!” you teased at the fact he woke up late. You were smiling until Johnnie remained silent and looked up to meet your eyes.

His day-old makeup clung to his skin, eyes raw and red evident with his tear-stained cheeks. You let out a quiet involuntary gasp. He looked away again, head hanging low. You wasted no time quickly walking up to him.

“What happened?” you asked in a hushed voice. You hadn't meant for it to come out so shy-sounding. It felt if you raised your voice too high it would break him even more, something you wanted desperately to avoid.

He doesn't answer you just instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in. He rested his head in the crook of your neck. “Hey hey it's ok,” you whispered to him not knowing what kind of comfort he needed.

Your hands rested on his back and you felt a sob rack through his body. You just held him tighter as he cried into your shoulder. Hot tears slowly slipped down into your shirt. “It's ok I promise,” you whispered again rubbing his back.

You stood there for a few more seconds before slowly moving away from him, breaking the hug. You looked up at his eyes, they were all red and full of tears. “I'm gonna get you some water ok?” you spoke while nodding with him.

You brought your hand up to wipe some of his tears away. “And you're going to go sit in the bed and I will be right there ok?” you say continuing to nod your head. He gave a few sniffles slowly nodding. “Ok,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“Ok, I love you,” you whispered, not expecting to hear it back right now. He slowly patterned back to the room as you quickly got a cup of water. You headed for the room, using your fingertips to slowly open the door.

Johnnie was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. You quickly shut the door and set the water down on the desk rushing to your upset boyfriend. A loud sob emits from him.

Your hands fly to hold his shoulders as you join him in the bed. He wastes no time clinging to you. Your heart is filled with anxiety with all the possibilities that could be troubling him. “I'm sorry… I'm sorry.” he whimpered out against your collarbone. “Hey, hey what's going on? Why are you sorry?” you asked him. Urgent to find out what the issue was.

“Please baby tell me what's wrong. I want to help the baby.” you pleaded trying to rub his back. He slowly pulled away from you. He wiped the tears away from his face. You waited for his response with bated breath.

“I just can't do this anymore,” he said slowly. He didn't look at you, unable to meet your eyes with his confession. “What? Do what anymore?” you asked fearful of his answer.

“I just can't keep being here anymore doing this,” he whispered to you. Your face fell at his words. He just stared at you, words failing him. You're only able to shake your head no. “I've been awake for hours by now, you were cleaning so I didn't say anything I just can't do this. I'm not good enough,” he told you, tears threatening to fall again.

However, it was your chance to cry now. “You are more than enough for everyone,” you Said moving your hands up to his face. “I know it can be hard for you to see that right now, but you are such an incredible person. Can I ask what's been going on?” you ask through sobs.

You try to keep calm for him but it isn't working. The sight of your teary eyes nearly broke Johnnie again. “I've been um, awake for a few hours now. I just looked at the mirror and I'm- I can't-” he stuttered, wiping his face with his hands.

“Im all lanky and my hair is all fucked. I don't see how you're with me. You're just so beautiful, I know when people see me they are disappointed with how I look.” he said, shaking his head and gesturing to his body.

“No Johnnie, please don't say that. I know you are fucking beautiful. I know other people feel that way and who gives a fuck what other people think of me. I only care what you think about me, and you love me and that's enough for me ok?” you said holding his face harder and keeping him close.

He gives a small laugh through his tears, “You don't think I'm too dangly?” he said with a laugh. You knew it was supposed to be a joke but you could feel the true hurt behind his words with it. “No Johnnie, your body is not only perfect but it's beautiful. Just look at all your sick tattoos, who else has them? Nobody. They are yours.” you Said pressing a small kiss to his forehead.

“I think I need to see someone about this,” he said, wiping his eyes again. “Yeah for sure whatever you need ok? I'm always right here. I'm not leaving no matter how far I feel.” you said moving your hands to hold his. “Thank you I'm not sure where I would be without you,” he said again with a small giggle.

You smiled, pulling him back into a hug. The hug quickly formed into cuddling, letting Johnnie be a little spoon. Your arms wrapped around him, feeling his rapid heartbeat slow to a normal pace.

Eventually, you feel the love of your life get pulled under by sleep hoping his sleeping moments were nicer than his waking hours.

[ctrlmay]

“Pages of Passion”

Warnings: smut

Word count: 1.2k

Your face has been buried in a book you've been reading lately. Since you got it, you haven't put it down, spending the past few days in various spots around your home, reading from sunup to sundown. As the plot thickens, your reading intensifies, and you escape from reality, traveling to wherever the book takes place leaving your boyfriend behind.

Today, you were in your usual spot. Your boyfriend watched you from the entrance of your shared bedroom, leaning on the frame and observing you as you sat with your legs propped up and your book resting on them, on the side of the bed closest to the window; You were reading, bathing in the sunlight that peered down on you as if you were a character in a film.

He missed his lover and hoped that today he could get you to put your book down. He let out a fake cough, expecting a reaction from you but you remained glued to your book, blocking out your surroundings.

He had no choice but to approach the bed and climb on top of your reclined position, hovering over you until you looked up from your book. Even then, he waited and you still showed no reaction to his presence. He frowned, saddened by how intently you were ignoring him, knowing that you were capable of hearing and seeing him. Taking matters into his own hands, he pointed your book down with his finger, giving you no choice but to look at him.

With your attention finally on him, it only took him a second to get into character.

"Y/nnn~" he whined, turning on his side to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. "Why are you ignoring me?" You looked at your boyfriend with a bored expression, finding him far less entertaining than your book. Glancing at him for a second, you then returned to your book, responding plainly, "I'm reading."

"You've been reading all day. I miss you," he complained, attempting to steal your attention by kissing up and down your neck. You allowed him to but still didn't pay him any mind and continued reading.

After a few moments of keeping himself busy by nibbling at your earlobe and lightly biting your neck, he realized he was only punishing himself. He didn't know how or why. Maybe it was because you were ignoring him and making him beg for your attention. But he has grown horny and his aching cock has grown in size.

“Fuck, Look what you do to me.” You peek from under your book to a grand view of your boyfriend's hard-on bulging out of his sweats. Your eyes widening slightly.

"Will you help me, doll?" he pleads, taking your hand and palming his throbbing bulge through his pants, his gaze glossy as he looks into your eyes, seeking aid from you. With this, he has finally captured your attention. You've never seen him act this way before, so you're curious to see how it will all unfold. Playing the long game, you pretend to lose interest and turn back to your book, ignoring your needy boyfriend.

"You're just going to keep ignoring me?" He questions in a hushed whisper, his breath hitting your ear, enough to feel the heat in his voice. You can tell he's on the verge of breaking, but you're unsure how long you can keep up this act before he breaks you.

Although a bit nervous, you stick to your plan and nudge your boyfriend with your shoulder, shrugging him off with a cold, "Get off of me."

With another push, you successfully push him away, leaving him astonished. He stares at you in disbelief, never having seen you act so harshly toward him before. All he wants is a little attention, and you're pushing him away. It's so... Sexy.

You're being harsh, but your words only add fuel to the fire. The fire in his pants, in his heart. He doesn't know exactly why you're acting this way, but he knows that he's loving it.

"Please, baby, I need you," his voice comes out soft, in a hushed tone as a plea for your help, serenading you to finally look up at him. Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze.

"If I help you, will you let me read in peace?" you question, earning an eager nod from him in response. “Ok, pull your dick out.”

He tries to hide the grin spreading across his face but fails, as his eagerness is clearly displayed as he takes his place next to you; lying down on his back, quickly undoing the knot in the strings of his sweatpants and pulling them down enough for his dick to spring free.

As his member comes into view, fully erect and already leaking in excitement, you become aware of how needy and obedient your boyfriend can become when pushed to his limit. You would have to do this more often.

Holding your book in one hand, you use your other hand to gently wrap around his length, hearing his breath hitch and his body tremble. You continue to stroke him, taking your time traveling up and down his shaft, savoring how he moans your name while you gently stroke him and graze his tip, using his pre-cum as lube.

"Fuck, just like that.” Delighted, you watch him squirm under your touch. Leaning in, you place a soft kiss on his cheek. He then tries to meet your lips but is only met with the cold air as you move your face away, redirecting your attention back to your book while lazily stroking him.

"Shit," he mutters in frustration, his whimpers filling the air. He's lost your attention, but somehow you've kept him captivated, still maintaining your same pace. He feels his climax approaching and desperately bucks his hips into your hand, matching your pace. Inhaling sharply, he gets ready to release all over your hand. But just as the tension builds, your pace starts to waver. Your concentration has shifted to the thrilling climax unfolding before you, held in the other hand that occupies your book. Your stroking becomes painfully slow for him, delaying his climax. His breath became ragged and His body tenses beneath your touch as you maintain the slow and steady pace denying him the release he desired.

He reaches his hand toward yours, desperate to make you move your hand. For the first time, your eyes flicker from your book to him as you swat his hand away, delivering a stern warning, "No touching." You then return your attention to your book, maintaining the same slow pace, and denying him the release he desires.

"Please, I- shit, wanna cum."

"Then cum." You spat. Your boyfriend's whines and moans become mere white noise as you read the last bit of your book. The protagonist and the antagonist are engaged in their final battle. The anticipation from the book causes you to tighten your grip on his cock, pumping faster just as the story intensifies. He moans and writhes beneath you, the sudden stimulation driving him towards another release.

As the protagonist swings his sword, your boyfriend throws his head back in pleasure. The sword strikes at its intended target, and he arches his back, a symphony of pleasure echoing from deep within him.

In perfect harmony, his release aligns with the moment of the antagonist's defeat.

[skeletonapricationday]

SPICY DAVID HEADCANNONS

I have not found any smut related thing to this man, and to me that is a crime. I carnaly desire him, I long, I pin for him. Gimme David smut. This is mainly for a female reader but feel free to ignore any gender related comments and enjoy regardless of your sex. Anyways I'm lazy so here's some Headcannons.

No titties, Itty bitties, or big ol' honkers he doesn't care. David has never been one to have a specific fetish or type for his partners body. Hell he's just happy someone like you wants to have sex with him. As long as he can bury his face into your chest while you fuck, regardless of wether he's pressing against a flat board or being muffled by your mounds, he's a happy camper.

David isn't one to shave often. He's always sporting some kind of bush down there, he loves nature afterall. His pubes don't worry or bother him since he doesn't grow alot of body hair in the first place. For hygienic reasons he does trim, working in the sun all day does make him sweat.

Once again David is all about nature! He doesn't care if you're all smooth like a baby's bottom or if you're Becky with the good hair, a meals a meal. He nearly cums when you cum, even without contact, so he does enjoy a good session of oral. Picking pubes out of his teeth later isn't a concern.

David surprisingly isn't much of a moaner. All those years of working as a camp consular has trained him to be quiet. He's used to thrusting into his hand while biting his bottom lip, keeping himself silent for the campers sake. This has turned him into a whimperer. He's all whines and hushed begging. Whenever he shoves his head into the crook of your neck during the heat of the moment, it's like being given a private concert.

Davy loves a good pet name. Call him sugar, sweetness, darling, or even pretty boy. He doesn't care. As long as it's a term of endearment it sends a pang to his heart and heat to his dick in the bedroom. Expect alot of silent pleads, he just wants to be called a good boy.

David is easy to have his feelings hurt. Pretty please be nice to him! Degradation just isn't his thing. He would always try for his partners sake, if that's your thing, but he doesn't enjoy it. Being called a hurtful thing just makes him wanna cry. It's even worse if you request he do it. You remember what happened when he last pretended to be tough. This doesn't mean he's utterly vanilla though.

Overstimulate him. Oh does he adore becoming a whiny mess. As long as you warn him before hand that you're going to do it, he's down. He especially loves when you claw the amount of times he's cum into his back (be careful with your marks though, yall don't need any nosy campers asking questions. Always keep it under the shirt.) David has been extremely sexually repressed throughout his life, he's got plenty in the tank to spare.

David's libido isn't insanely high. He'd much more enjoy a sweet picnic, or a romantic hike in the woods compared to sex. He'd never reject it though. This does mean most of your sexual ednevours will have to be initiated by you. You learn pretty quickly as long as the area is clear he's down to bone, so it isn't much of a problem. Just crawl in his lap late at night while all the campers lay asleep, and it is on like Donkey Kong!

David surprisingly doesn't do porn. He's always had an overactive imagination. Who needs adult entertainment when you have the perfect titties in your mind? Better yet, who needs porn when he has you? You learned this by asking about his porn taste, only to find out he doesn't have one. He does do strippers on the other hand, you learned this before you were in a relationship. Having to drag his drunk ass home from Muffin Tops.

Thighs, utterly delectable. Wiggle your thighs at him and his mind goes south. He just can't help it, they're tempting him. Especially in those little shorts (as long as he ignores the sexist implications of the women's camp consular uniform) he can't help but stare. Expect alot of thigh grabs, thigh hugs, and small little hickies hidden on the inside of your thighs. Delcious~

His favorite sex positions are the ones where you have to be close, which means any positon. He'll find a way to make it work. Riding him while pressing your forehead to his, a mating press with his face hidden in your shoulder, doggy as he pants against your back, spooning while he's inside you. As long as he can work his way near you, and I mean really near you, it's his favorite. He especially enjoys a nice romantic night of missionary since he can see your face, kiss you whenever he pleases, and when you lock your ankles behind his back it feels like heaven.

He's such a sweet boy. He may be on top of you, fucking into you in a dominant position but he's a bottom. No matter how you have sex, you're the one in control. Feel free to swap the position or flip him over and rock his world. He doesn't mind it, whatever you say goes. He loves when you're really dominant, those nights where you're beyond frustrated from bratty campers are his favorite.

David preens when you mark him. It does sadden him that due to the nature of his job you can't mark him more, but it's understandable. He'll take whatever he can get. Scratch marks down his back, check. Hickies hidden on his chest, check. Bitemarks on his thighs, for sure check. Mane him however you please, just keep it under his clothes.

I adore this man. Obviously love him. Keep your eyes out for an actual smut shot, or even normal one shots. I just want my little work husband.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.9

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

age 27 // 3rd year - assistant physician

17th July

Barcelona, Spain

The buzzing of the phone in the middle of the night startled Cassandra. Not that she was sleeping. It was way too warm, despite the open window, but an ominous feeling took over her nevertheless as a late-night call rarely meant something good.

Sitting up straight in the dark bedroom, she rubbed her eyes and reached for it. Her heart picking up in pace only more when reading 'cool guy' on the display, though, worry getting replaced by excitement instead.

She swiped to answer, hushed but eager. "Tae?"

There was a beat of silence, then she heard his breath. "Hey, angel."

With just one simple, soft word she felt all the tension she'd been holding inside her body the past days dispel. She'd missed his smooth voice and closed her eyes, letting it soak through her.

Sometimes he'd still use the old nickname and call her 'Doc', but his new one surely was her favourite.

"Thought you might be out."

He heard something of a laugh leave his girlfriend. It was quiet, but it was still there. He was joking, of course and she knew that. It was easy with him after all, always had been. Even if they hadn't seen each other in a month.

"What, at 2 in the morning? No way."

Taehyung chuckled along and her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his deep chuckles, the room suddenly feeling lighter. She'd missed the sound of his laugh.

"Then, sorry for calling so late."

"It's fine, I couldn't sleep anyway," she told him honestly, feeling almost coy and suddenly very aware of her breathing. Her chest falling and raising steadily.

"Me neither."

Silence followed, and she felt a small twinge of panic. Did anything happen? Did he realise he had nothing to say? Please don't hang up, she thought desperately, holding as still as she could underneath the thin sheets.

"I bet I have you beat," he finally said, sounding somewhat amused. And she relaxed. "We were back by eleven. Yoongi was in a terrible mood."

"Oh, how so?" she smiled quietly, adding, "Sorry I'm whispering. I recently discovered I can sometimes hear the neighbours' talking from my bed so I assume they can hear mine as well."

"It's okay. I like it," he whispered back with a smirk, only to still when another question crossed his mind. "Wait, does that mean they heard us when.."

Her lips folded, stifling a giggle as she'd wondered the same thing when discovering that fact. "They might have."

"Oh." His embarrassed chuckle made her smile widen. Taehyung hummed on the other line then, musing for a moment. "Guess we have to be careful next time."

"Mhm. But anyway, why was Yoongi in a terrible mood?"

"He was trying to play it cool, you know?" Taehyung said then, groaning slightly. "Almost blew his cover."

Cassandra snorted softly. Yoongi wasn't exactly discreet when it came to hating their disguises, according to Taehyung. Him and Jimin arguing about it sometimes. It was quite funny to her, two grown men bickering like school kids.  

However, she held herself back from asking what disguise it was and why, knowing it'd be pointless to do so. 

"Hope he and Jimin didn't argue."

"They did, but already made up. They can never stay mad at each other for too long," Taehyung reassured.

She hummed. Realising him reaching out so soon again after their last call had to be a good sign as well.

"Mhm, I assume the job was successful despite that then?"

He huffed in mock-offence only for a boisterous smirk to settle on his lips. "Of course!"

Cassandra smiled to herself, pressing one side of her face further into the pillow.

It always felt nice to talk to him like this. It felt normal, as if they were never apart. As if he lived just across the city. After years of knowing him it was normal to her anyway. The only thing that had changed was the fact it was even more annoying now that they were in an actual relationship. When they were only friends it'd been a pity not hanging out as much, surely, but now it was simply insufferable.

"So.. it's safe to say you didn't really have fun tonight," she concluded then as a joke. Earning an agreeing hum from him.

"No," he simply stated then, "I was forced out and promised a good time, but instead I was surrounded by bickering and debauchery."

A dry laugh left her lips – loudly, unable to help it really. Forgetting about her neighbours possibly hearing her in the middle of the quiet night.

"I guess the latter is referring to Jimin."

"Of course. He made flirting with two hostesses at the same time look easy." Both burst out laughing before Taehyung's tone softened again."Should have been with you instead.."

She had to ignore that, she just had to, otherwise she'd end up doing something foolish like asking him to drop everything and fly over to her. She'd never do that, her pride never allowing that anyway. But she couldn't trust herself a lot after 1am so who knew, she might become weak if she cave into it.

"Pity," she replied instead with a much calmer voice, more appropriate to the late hour, "Did you force him to stop?"

"Had to, otherwise we couldn't have proceeded with the plan," Taehyung huffed out a laugh, "He probably would've had the time of his life right now if it wasn't for me."

A lie, they both knew. Taehyung had told Cassandra everything about his friend being head over heels in love with some other thief who crossed their paths sometimes. Cassandra always found the stories involving Arabella exciting and entertaining, much to her boyfriend's despise really. Of course, she understood his reasons hence why she'd try keeping her amusement over them at bay.

"He didn't think to share with you?" she teased as she stared up to the pitch-black ceiling.

"Me?" he asked, surprised, and for a second she worried she'd gone too far when he continued, "No, he knows I'm not interested in anyone but you."

There was the beat of a silence before both attempted to say the other's name.

"Tae -"

"Cas -" He rushed forward as she held back. "I've missed you." He breathed. "Saying that out loud just makes me miss you more."

Cassandra's heart felt like expanding, drumming against her ribcage. He kept his promise of being vocal about his feelings from now on and it meant everything to her.

She heard him laugh at himself then. Feeling silly. "Do I sound pathetic?"

"No," she insisted, eager for him to know. "No, Tae. I miss you, too." She wanted to tell him everything that had been on her mind, but over the phone like this felt insufficient.

"I called you because I wanted to hear your voice. I thought of you tonight and just wanted to -" He cut himself off with a sigh. "I wanted to pretend everything was normal."

"Everything is normal, what do you mean?"

"I mean actual normal. Like.. like we're a normal couple and I can just see and call you whenever I like."

Without realising, tears had welled up in the corners of her eyes when allowing his words to sink in.

Yeah, that would be nice but it is what it is, she thought. After all, she knew what she got herself into when allowing him into her life. And it wasn't like her own job would've allowed anything 'normal' anyway, with its irregular schedules or being on standby.

One single hot tear slipped away from her eyes then, getting absorbed into her pillow. She blamed the late hour for his voice and words making her so easily over-emotional.

And without realising it, a quiet sob croaked its way past her throat.

"Cas?" His voice laced with concern. "Are you crying?"

She sniffed and wiped her face. "Sorry. It's the late hour."

"No, don't be. I'm the sorry one. I wasn't trying to make you cry."

She took a moment to compose herself, annoyed at herself. Taehyung waited patiently, and when he heard her laugh weakly down the line, he added another, although seemingly unrelated, sorry.

"What for?" He had nothing to be sorry for.

However, Taehyung let out a low whistle. "A lot." A deep exhale followed. "It's hard."

"You mean us?"

"No," he was quick to response. Needing to dissolve any insecurities before they even arose in her mind, "It sucks that we can't see each other as much.. but no, Cas, being with you isn't hard."

Her cheeks were burning by now and it wasn't due to the 23°C and the stuffy air in her bedroom. She couldn't help but grin like an idiot, feeling all jittery for a moment before recalling his sullen tone before.

"What is it then? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really.. I mean, I do. Just not right now." She hummed, relating to that statement. Hearing his mattress move on the other line.

"Is that okay?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Of course."

"Right now I just want to feel close to you," he admitted bashfully, "And hear your voice."

"I want that, too," she said and the corners of her lips tugged into a gentle smile, pretending the warmth of her bed was him. They didn't even need to talk, hearing his breathing was enough. Just like when he was lying next to her.

"I've really missed you, like, a lot." He chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry. It's late, I'm all over the place."

"No, it's cute! Don't worry," her tired smile grew at the thought of his flustered expression, "We'll see each other soon. We'll be okay."

"We will."

His confirmation meant the world to her. For the first time in a while, she felt excited. She opened her mouth, her heart ready to combast, when she stopped herself instead. Something told her he already knew what she so desperately wanted to tell him; why else would he be on the phone with her right after a coup?

Instead, she fell into a comforting silence again with her eyes starting to grow heavy. Sleep began washing over her, until a noise and Taehyung's cursing made her jolt awake. And he laughed faintly.

"Crap. I just hit my head."

The bed moved again, and she imagined that she was there with him.

"Were you falling asleep?"

"Yeah, I think I was."

"Should we hang up?" She felt bad for keeping him up, not even knowing in what timezone he was, but she also didn't want the call to be over yet.

"Let's talk tomorrow."

His assuring tone caught her off guard as she knew how risky it was for them to talk too often or too long.

"You sure?" she grinned lazily.

"Yeah. We need to talk more. I can't take this any longer."

She was suddenly wide awake now. "Okay. I'm free tomorrow. Call whenever you want."

"I'll make sure it's early in the morning then."

She could hear the teasing grin on his face. Picture it, too. "Meanie. As if you'd be up early."

"Just joking."

She giggled faintly, feeling both, excited and relaxed. "I can't wait."

"Me neither."

She could almost feel his breath, wanting him close. Tomorrow, she reminded herself.

"I should go now. You need to sleep."

"So do you," she added with a light scoff.

"So, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

She knew he was smiling, she could hear it all the miles apart.

"Yeah," she smiled back. "You will."

The phone call ended and she was about to put it away when a text appeared on her display.

cool guy (2.46am): btw goodnight :)

angel (2.46am): goodnight ♡

»»»

3rd October

Cassandra wasn't sure what time it was, nor was she sure if her mind hadn't imagined things in her sleep. Still in a half-daze, she tossed her blankets away, hearing the persistent ringing again which had torn her away from a deep slumber.

The doorbell, she concluded so far. Brown eyes frowning when she took off her sleeping mask and trotted to the door in the dark.

Had she forgotten about an upcoming delivery?

It didn't even cross her mind that it wasn't daytime yet despite the darkness of her apartment. That was how she preferred to sleep after all, blinds all the way down. Besides, the days became shorter and it was raining endlessly, so naturally it was rather dark outside even in the morning.

Only when she unlocked the door and swung it open, she realised how off her assumptions were when in front of her was standing none other than Taehyung. 

Clothes entirely drenched, soaking wet from the pouring rain with pools forming around his feet.

Any sleep that had remained in her system was abruptly blown away, replaced by pure excitement followed by confusion and irritation at his slumped posture. Her lips eventually parted, causing him to flinch.

He was ready to hear her expelling him for showing up there in the middle of the night, when instead she grabbed him by his arm, pulling him firmly inside and closing the door behind him.

"Tae, what happened?"

Her words faded when she noticed his sulked expression underneath the hood. Almost hidden away by long streaks of dark hair sticking onto his forehead. 

It wasn't so much the question itself that completely unarmed him. He had expected it considering the randomness and time of this encounter and his abject state.

No, it was rather the concern in her eyes and the whisper of her voice that made him completely lose any remaining energy to deny it and instead made him tear up. And he almost knocked her off when wrapping his arms around her.

She smelled of almonds and flowers. Just like he remembered.

Startled, the young woman tensed for a moment when her hands instinctively engulfed her boyfriend's torso in a tight hug. Putting her all into squeezing him as much as she could. It was her way of showing him that she was there, whatever it was that he was struggling with. Not even caring the slightest how his soaked clothes were wetting her pyjamas.

She understood not to ask further. He'd tell her eventually, she knew. He always did.

Stepping back, she clasped his arms to take a better look on him. He swallowed, avoiding her worried glance. By now he somewhat regretted coming there in an impulsive moment, acting out the only clear thought in his chaotic mind.

He'd felt so miserably and pathetic, he couldn't even bare himself, let alone fleeing to Panama with Jimin and Yoongi - the next place where an object of interest was located at - after what had happened. Even if they had tried persuading him and ensuring him it hadn't been as bad as he had made it out to be. He was so upset with his own self, however, that he couldn't simply stand being alone either.  

And out of pure selfishness and immaturity he'd spent six hours driving from Marseille to Barcelona, to the only person he wanted to see.

Perhaps it was because Cassandra wasn't one of them but an outsider. Perhaps it was her sweet and campassionate nature. Or how she tried to see all sides and wasn't set on black & white views - and he needed someone like this in that moment. Someone else who'd essentially verify what his friends had been trying to convince him of.

But when he had rung the doorbell, two sudden realisations had hit him.

It was 3am. And she was a physician.

Now it was too late though. She was already standing in front of him with big questioning bambi eyes. The fact she hadn't flipped him off or cussed at him already would've been a miracle, if she was such a person. She wasn't, however, he knew that. And yet, he felt terrible.

Was he using her to make his pity self feel better? To calm his guilty conscious?

When she felt his arms growing tired and loosening around her, she placed a hand on his cold cheek. Carefully inspecting his face with a serious glare.

"Are you hurt?"

He only responded with a small shake of his head to assure he wasn't. It was enough for her. Her hands dropped and she helped him slip off his jacket while he stepped out of his shoes.

She grabbed his hand then and he silently waddled behim her to the bedroom.  

Only when she switched on the small cloud-shaped lamp on the nightstand did she see what time it was.

She had barely slept three hours and had planned to wake up in another six - enough time to properly rest and get prepared for her shift at 2pm - but now it seemed like she had to abandon that plan.

It was alright though, first she had to take care of her favourite patient after all.

"Wait here," she quietly instructed him and Taehyung willingly did as he was told. That was the least he could do in that moment anyway, and he watched her disappear into the hallway. Eyes wandering around her room. It was the same as he remembered it, only with a few more of his postcards on the wall. And he smiled, realising she had kept them all. Along with photos of him between her friends and family.

His heart clenched. The tiny voice in the depths of his conscience telling him yet again he didn't deserve Cassandra. And it only got louder after tonight.

He heard steps then, seeing her reappearing with two mugs and a towel. She rested the mugs onto the nightstand first, the hot steam prominent while rising from the tea she'd made them. He smiled.

She pointed at him then with a scowl. "You should take off your wet clothes."

He couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the suddenly demanding tone. "Is that a doctor's order?"

It was the first time he spoke tonight. Evident in his hoarse voice. And yet, Cassandra only huffed out a laugh at the fact it was a teasing remark out of all things. Of course.

"Not this time. This time it's your girlfriend's order."

His thick eyebrow arched at this. Liking the sound of the word whenever she was referred to as his girlfriend. "Is that so?"

"Yep. I don't want you to wet my bedsheets," she grinned, "If you wet my bedsheets I'll kick you out."

"You didn't mind your clothes though," he retorted, to which she shrugged unimpressed.

"I can always change those. But I don't feel like changing bedsheets in the middle of the night. And besides, it feels disgusting being in wet clothes. Doesn't it?"

He hummed, unable to counter something to her logic like so often. She was definitely not wrong about the disgusting feeling, although it wasn't only physically.

Quietly, he began pulling his hoodie over his head, remaining with a plain shirt and she stepped closer, placing the towel over his head. She held the edges together, framing his face with it. The adorable sight making her lips curl into a smile. She almost cooed but knew to suppress it, so instead her fingers began rubbing his hair dry. Her arms were completely stretched out to properly reach him, although he was already stooping to assist her.

Soon his brown irises disappeared behind his eyelids, the stern expression on his features softening. He hummed at the soothing sensation, lulling him more and more until he couldn't feel the motion anymore.

When she deemed it dry enough, she let the towel slide from his head. Revealing his tousled waves.

"How do you still look so cute even with messy hair?" she jokingly pouted. Earning a lazy smile from him. It was so easy for her to make him smile and he tucked at one of the curls falling from her loose bun then.

"You look cuter."

She puffed her blushing cheeks, dismissing his words as always. And he still found it both, endearing and annoying, how she didn't know how to properly react to his compliments.

"Drink the tea, it should've steeped by now," she mumbled then. Quickly making her way under the covers and choosing one of the mugs to try the tea herself. By the look of her face, however, he could tell that it was still too hot and he stifled a laugh at her grimace when putting it back down. "Okay, maybe wait for a little long."

He only hummed and attempted taking off the equally damp trousers when he unintentionally shuddered at the cold metal of his magnum brushing against his skin. Shoving the gun underneath his clothes as if he tried hiding it and Cassandra noticed, but chose not to comment on it. Already holding the sheets up beside her for him. 

"What about your pj's?" he asked worried.

"It's fine they didn't get wet. Just a tiny bit dampish. It'll dry off quickly."

"Oh, so I'm the only one doing a striptease here, huh?" he smirked before sliding under the warm bedsheets. Only earning an innocent pout from Cassandra as she rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm finding its way around his waist when his draped around hers.

"Aw, poor baby," her tone teasing as she lightly poked his flushed cheek, "But you were the one running around in the rain, not me."

Sitting now next to each other in her cramped bed, they grew quiet. Partially due to their tiredness, partially due to the elephant in the room.

Taehyung didn't mind her twin-sized bed, it made it easier for him to cling onto her like a koala, even if she always complained not being able to sleep that way. Secretely she liked it, it gave her some kind of security. Unless it was the middle of summer, then she indeed hated it.

Cassandra propped her chin onto his shoulder then, glancing at him expectedly. She noticed him licking his dry lips, eyes focusing on something invisible as he held her close. His fingers curling around her hip more as he was seemingly lost in thoughts, staring into space absentmindedly.

It didn't seem like he was ready to talk yet.

With a sigh, she lifted her head and turned to grab her tea and retry. This time the sip was in a much more drinkable temperature and she took another sip. Taking the other mug and handing it over to him.

"Be careful not to spill," she quietly said and he gladly accepted it. Despite feeling warm on the outside by now, there was still an internal coldness that made him shiver.

The tea managed warming him up, but the heaviness in his chest remained. And Taehyung sunk further into the sheets after drinking the last bit of it.

His throbbing head burying itself into the crook of her neck ans she stilled for a moment when he inhaled deeply. His warm breath tingling her skin. He sensed Cassandra's lips on his temple then when a delicate hand of hers reached to his still damp hair. Her fingers beginning combing the soft dark waves.

He smelled of falling rain.

It was a soothing sensation that clouded his mind and his eyes fluttered closed. Getting lost in the anew relaxing movement of her hand. It was steady, despite sleepiness slowly taking over her as well. And his body began feeling numb, falling asleep before his mind could. Taehyung was sinking more and more into his seat. His head slipping from Cassandra's neck and sliding to her chest and to her stomach. Settling there just between.

Cassandra was his save heaven.

With her he was in a bubble. She shielded him from his chaotic and dangerous life, providing him with something he had never believed he'd receive or even deserved. Something that also terrified him though.

She was his weak spot after all, his Achilles' heel. And his profession a threat to her normal life.

It was silent in the small bedroom except for the clock on the nightstand and the pit-a-pat of the falling rain against the window glass. Occasionally, a lonely car would pass by and the sound of splashing water was heard. Their breaths and her heartbeat underneath his ear soothing him even more.

"What if I injured someone innocent?"

The sudden whisper of his voice made her perk up and she began to understand.

"Is that what happened?" she quietly asked. Her fingers not stopping from gliding through his hair. "Did you injure an innocent passerby?"

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, turning his face towards the soft fabric of her pyjamas for a moment.

"Yes."

Cassandra hummed only, peeking down at him. She knew he'd open up on his own and she knew there had been a reason, but only now she grasped why he had been in such an awful state.

She had always been curious about his 'job'. Always wanting to hear heist stories and how they pulled them off. It was an odd fascination, the whole technical part. Whether it was illegal or not what they did, it was still a form of art to her - if done correctly.

However, as he always refused to give too much into her interest and instead kept stories as superficial as possible, for him now to tell her about a job on his own felt like an apology. A depreciation.

And perhaps it was just that. Perhaps that was the reason he had driven all the way there, because she was the only person who could grant him some kind of absolution.

Her knuckles brushed over the side of his agitated face then.

"How did it happen?"

Taking a deep breath, he collected his thoughts before continuing. He didn't want to speak it out, but he had to. He couldn't bare it anymore. "It happened so fast, but.. I should've foreseen it. It was my fault."

Cassandra remained silent. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign but she hadn't pulled away her hands yet.

"Why's it your fault?"

"It just is."

"Why do you th-"

"Because I'm the best shooter in the damn world!" His voice rose with frustration when recalling the incident and he abruptly heaved his head from her warmth. Cassandra tensing at this, startled. "I can aim and hit a target in my sleep, I should've - I should've -" He began stuttering, screwing his eyes shut. A deep crease forming between his prominent brows. Cassandra's face mirroring his pained expression, the corners of her lips pulling downwards. "I should've noticed that goon creeping up behind me and pushing me. I-I shouldn't have missed my target -" He choked up at this point, cutting himself off.

Her hand glided from his hair to his cheek, cupping it as she stared into his afflicted eyes and he swallowed.

"Cassandra, I.. I swear it was an accident - it was the first time - I'd never - Please, believe me."

He needed this. Needed to hear it from her. Needed to hear that she believed him, that she knew he wasn't a common criminal shooting at innocent people without a care. Needed her to confirm he wasn't a monster. Needed her to ensure him she wouldn't despise him, despite her own profession of saving lives. Needed her to forgive him.

Cassandra gave him a look of commiseration and trapped his flushed cheeks between her palms.

His guilty conscious had been visible from the moment she'd opened the door. She knew he felt terrible, she could feel how sincere he was. How much he regretted it. And she knew she was in no way entitled to judge people in situations she'd never gone through herself and went beyond her experience. Hence why it was flattering that Taehyung not only felt the need to tell her but was also concerned for her opinion on the matter. After all those years of knowing each other, she was truly his confidant. And the realisation warmed her heart.

"I've told you time over time you're not a bad guy. This was an accident, you didn't want it to happen," she softly spoke. Her thumb caressing his cheek in an attempt to calm him down. And it seemed to work, his guilt-ridden expression mitigating. His jaw unclenching.

"You truly believe that?" he asked quietly.

She nodded confidently. "I know it."

"It won't happen again," he confirmed. He planned to learn from his mistakes. Perhaps he should try mediating like Yoongi who sensed any threat from miles away.

"I know," she smiled. Her gaze falling then. "What happened to the person you accidentally shot though?"

He frowned. "We fled instantly, so I'm not sure. But I heard sirens of an ambulance in the distance, so I hope.." His index finger went to his hip. "I got him here, it's not a vital part, right?"

Cassandra knew that a hip injury by a gunshot was likely to cause complex peritrochanteric fracture. But orthopaedic procedures had an overall union rate for primary fixation of over sixty percent - which was pretty good. There was, of course as it was the case with all medical procedures, always a remaining chance for complications, however, she chose not to disclose the last part. Not wanting to make him feel worse. Instead she kept it positively vague, just like with patients and their families.

"He should be fine," she nodded, her smile widening, "It's not a life-threatening injury."

With the heavy burden being lifted from his chest, he slowly sank back down to her chest. Closing his eyes as soon as he heard her heartbeat and felt her fingers returning to his chocolate waves.

Cassandra had managed to calm him down like no one else ever could.

He wasn't used to this. To feeling so at ease. There in her warm embrace, with her fingers running through his hair, her chest rising and falling underneath him, her scent in his nose and her steady pulse in his ear, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Realising the reason she was the only person he wanted to see that night, the only person he wanted to ever talk about his heavy heart with and the only person whose words mattered the most to him, was as simpel as the answer to why he always kept coming back to her, despite the risk of getting caught by interpol.

Because he loved her.

»»»

next chapter: 1.0 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

- btw any detco fans here who caught the shinran reference? 👀 hehe

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[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

Written in the Stars: Chapter IV - Heavy Hearts

Chapter Summary: You haven't heard from Anakin ever since he has confessed his feelings to you. You miss your best friend and it shows. Everyone can tell something is wrong, but one person figures out what's bothering you and make you realize the truth as well. One day, you're forced to make a terrible decision for the good of your people. The only person who can help you find a third way is… Anakin. But will he help you after what happened between you two? And can your relationship still be fixed?

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker/Reader

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Reader, C-3PO, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano

Word Count: 6382

A/N: Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090695361/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090754675/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090754673/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090718023/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090766142/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090919861/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090746529/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090718020/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389090721236/ This chapter also contains a dialogue from "Attack of the Clones". The gif is not mine. I hope you'll enjoy!

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@drinix

@astro-kitty-launch

@nikiloveshayden

Ever since your argument, if you can call it that, with Anakin you haven't seen or heard from him. You tried calling him a few times. But he never answered. Sad, angry and disappointed, you stopped trying. However, it hit you hard.

Everyone around you has noticed that something has changed. You're no longer doing anything with a spring in your step. A certain spark you've always seemed to carry in you that has always brightened up the room seems to have died out. You rarely smile and it never reaches your eyes. They ask what happened. You insist you're fine. But you're not. Because you miss a certain Jedi Knight.

Lanash Kijalah is the first to understand what's going on. She lets you subtly know it when you're working on some documents late into night again. She brings you another cup of tea and stares at you with worry.

'They won't run away tomorrow, my lady,' she says softly. 'And you need to rest.'

'I'm fine,' you insist and sip the tea without looking at the cup. 'I have a lot of work to do.'

'It's not the first time,' your maid carefully says. 'You've barely slept recently.'

'Busy time,' you respond. 'I knew that it would be like that after the coronation.'

She stares at you for a moment. Finally, she grabs the previous cup and turns to leave. She suddenly stops and looks over her shoulder at you.

'People get drunk,' she says, confusing you so much you look up at her. 'They kiss the wrong person. Get lost in work. And pretend to be okay. People will do anything to distract their hearts. They will do anything to distract it from missing someone.'

Your eyes go wide. You drop your quill. She gives you a knowing look and leaves the room. You exhale shakily after a moment and run a hand through your hair.

'Damn you, Lanash,' you murmur, blinking away the tears. 'Damn you and your observant eyes.'

A few days later your father calls you to his chambers. When you reach them, you're about to knock, but your mother's raised voice causes you to freeze:

'You're breaking your promise to her!'

'What other choice do I have?' your father asks, annoyed… but also tired. 'If we don't agree, our people-'

'Shh!' your mother hushes him. They continue to speak in lowered volumes. You wait a moment then knock.

'Come in,' the King calls after a pause. You walk in. Andrrei is standing behind his desk. Lyra is sitting on a couch. They don't look happy. Not a good sign.

'You wanted to see me, father,' you say and walk to them. Your father smiles weakly at you.

'Yes, darling,' he says and motions at the couch. 'Please, sit.'

You sit down carefully next to your mother. The King paces nervously.

'We have a problem,' he starts after a moment. 'You're aware, of course, that most of resources we use to shield our people from magnetic storms come from the planet Jantoth.'

You nod when he stops and looks at you. He resumes his walk, more nervous with every step.

'The time has come to renew our deal with its king,' he continues. 'We've talked today. He… he claims it was harder to gain the materials this year. He demands a larger sum for it. Much… much larger.'

'We've already been paying them too much as it is,' you comment, frowning. 'If we pay them even more… we'll be ruined. Or in debt if we borrow the credits from someone.'

'He's aware of it,' Andrrei says and winces. 'He… offered an alternative.'

He stops. A heavy silence fills the room. Lyra purses her lips, clearly displeased. You raise your eyebrows.

'And?' you urge them. 'What is this offer?'

'That you marry his son,' the Queen answers when it's clear the King has troubles with saying this to you. You look at them, aghast.

'I do what?' you ask, your eyes wide, and shake your head. 'Absolutely not.'

'[Y/N]…' your father sighs. 'I don't like it either. But… the lives of our people depend on it. We must at least consider it.'

'Consider being blackmailed?' you ask, bewildered. 'Because that's what it is. I agree for negotiation about price, but not treating me like I'm one. Especially since you made me and Astrariel a promise.'

Andrrei winces. You stare at him, your gaze like a pure steel.

'I know,' he says quietly and runs a hand down his face. 'I know, [Y/N]. And I wish I could spare you this. Fulfil my promise to you and your sister. But sometimes… we must make sacrifices for the good of our people.'

'I've been doing them ever since I was old enough to understand my responsibilities,' you say after a moment. 'I asked for this one thing. I won't agree to marry someone I don't love.'

'[Y/N]-' your mother starts, reaching for you. But you stand up abruptly and march out of the room, barely restraining yourself from slamming the door behind you. But you do slam the door to your chambers when you enter them. You make Lanash jump, startled.

'My lady?' she asks, her eyes wide. 'Has something happened?'

You walk past her and sit down on your bed with a sigh. You hide your head in your hands. When you lift it up, she's standing in front of you, looking at you with worry. You tell her about the conversation with your parents. She's shocked by this revelation.

'Is there nothing that can be done?' she asks when you're done.

'We rely too heavily on those resources,' you answer. 'We've been researching into alternatives… but to no avail for now. But this… this price is too heavy. Both options.'

You gulp, desperate to stop the tears. Kijalah stares at you with sympathy.

'I know my duties to the planet and its people,' you say after a beat. 'But this… this is a lot. What do you think I should do?'

Your maid is quiet for a moment. She walks to the window and looks out of it.

'The sad truth is so many people are in love and not together,' she says finally, 'and so many people are together and not in love.'

'Exactly!' you say, standing up abruptly. 'Why should I have such relationship as well? Then again… There's always a chance we will fall in love. I mean, I met the prince and he was… so not my type, both in looks and personality. But maybe… he has changed. Or will. And we can… fall in love.'

You sit down, deflated. You really don't believe it. Lanash looks at you.

'Even if you won't love him,' she says, surprising you. 'Because you already gave your heart to someone else.'

Your eyes snap to her. Her gaze is serious.

'What do you mean?' you ask coldly. But she doesn't shy away. She comes back to you.

'I know you, my lady,' she says. 'A few years ago, you would sacrifice your own happiness for the good of your people. But not now. Because you already know with whom you'd like to spend your life.'

'I don't know what you mean,' you deny, turning your eyes from her.

'I don't know what happened between you and General Skywalker,' she says after a beat. 'But ever since the day we last saw him, you've been terribly unhappy.'

You gulp. Your heart is beating very fast now.

'It's because we're friends and I hate to be at odds with him,' you insist. You risk a look at your friend and see she's giving you a dubious look.

'What's the first thing you see when you think of him… imagine him in your mind?' she asks suddenly. You don't even have to think.

'Those sparkly eyes when he laughs,' you answer with a soft smile. It quickly falls when you realize what you said. You sigh and hide your face in your hands again.

'This is bad,' you whisper. 'So bad. I mean… it can never happen. I told him this when he-'

'He what?' Lanash asks when you trail off. You don't answer. Her eyes go wide.

'He confessed, didn't he?' she guesses. 'And you told him you can't. That's why he left so angry.'

'I had to,' you whisper, pulling your hands away. 'He… he's a Jedi. They can't be in relationships. Besides… I now have to marry for the good of the planet.'

'My lady…' your maid says quietly. You stand up and give her a sad smile.

'Would you mind preparing me a bath?' you ask, wanting this conversation to be over. Her shoulders slump.

'Of course, my lady,' she says, bowing her head. She turns and leaves to the bathroom. You walk to the window and gaze at the setting sun. You're not even aware of the tears streaming down your face.

*

You burst into your room and march toward the bathroom. Lanash stares after you, bewildered. She looks at C-3PO when he enters the room.

'I guess the meeting didn't go well?' she asks.

'Well… the Prince was very rude,' the droid answers, troubled. 'I was honestly expecting Princess [Y/N] to start hitting him with her datapad. The look she was giving him was murderous.'

'Oh, dear…' your maid sighs. You return, droplets of water on your face. You've attempted to cool down with splashing it on your face.

'Something is not adding up,' you declare and start pacing. 'With the numbers of the resources. When you first look at it, everything seems correct. But the longer I stared at it, something seemed off to me. Every time I tried to find out what, the Prince or the King were distracting me. Something is up.'

'What can we do?' C-3PO asks. You stop and sigh heavily.

'Nothing, Threepio,' you say grimly. 'If I demand an investigation or make one secretly, it will seem as if I just want to escape this marriage. True, I want that, but I also don't want my planet and its people to be deceived.'

'Well… you could ask someone to conduct an investigation for you,' Lanash suggests slowly, a plan forming in her head. 'And make it seem the request didn't come from you nor the King.'

'And who would do that?' you scoff. Your maid and droid exchange a look. She looks at you pointedly.

'A certain Jedi Knight,' she answers. You tense. You shake your head.

'Absolutely not,' you disagree. 'Besides, he won't agree.'

'Master Anakin will do anything for you, Princess [Y/N],' C-3PO argues. You smile sadly at him.

'Not after our argument,' you deny.

'He will if you ask him,' your maid says softly. 'And tell him what's at stake.'

'I can't promise him what he wants,' you say after a moment.

'He'll still do it if he finds out the alternative is you living unhappily,' she argues. 'Of course, we first have to get the information of his current whereabouts. There's no way of telling where he is with the Clone Wars raging across the galaxy. And this conversation should be face to face.'

'He's on Naboo,' you say reluctantly. Your friends look at you with surprise. You sigh.

'I've talked to Padmé this morning,' you explain, tense. 'She told me they're going to be there for the next few days.'

'Is she…?' Lanash asks hesitantly.

'It appears so,' you say flatly.

'But Master Anakin loves you,' the droid quickly says. You look at him with raised eyebrows. Your maid gives you an innocent smile. You roll your eyes.

'Well, who knows what has happened between them during the last months,' you say and smile sadly. 'Why would he wait for an unwilling princess, when he can have a very willing senator?'

'Because his heart is yours,' C-3PO answers and you look away. 'At least talk to him. Ask him for help. He could never refuse to you. Not only because of your feelings, but because you saved his mother.'

You're silent. You consider the pros and cons. And your options. You stare out of the window, begging the gods to give you the answer to your problem.

Some time later on Naboo Anakin is woken up by knocking on his door. Puzzled and wary of who may need him at this hour, he walks to the door with the lightsaber in his hand and opens the door. He's met with a hooded figure. Before he can demand from this person to reveal themselves, they lift their head up and he sees your face.

'[Y/N]?' he asks, stunned. 'What are you…? How…?'

'Can I come in?' you ask quietly. 'Please. No one can know I'm here.'

Skywalker nods, stunned, and moves aside. You quickly slip into the room. He closes the door behind you and follows you further into the room. After making sure all the windows are covered, you turn to him and put down your hood. He sucks in a breath.

'[Y/N], no offence, but you look awful,' he says, his brows knitting in worry.

'Well, you stopped saying goodnight and I stopped sleeping,' you say, smiling weakly. He doesn't respond in kind. Your face falls. You look away.

'Padmé showed me a secret way on Naboo and to the palace, in case I needed to talk to her and not wanting anyone to know about it,' you explain. 'I hate using it behind her back, but even she cannot know I was here tonight.'

'Why not?' the Jedi asks, frowning. You bite your lip. His eyes are immediately captivated by it and he wishes he was the one doing it.

'To protect our cities from magnetic storms, we build shields,' you start, confusing him. 'But the materials from it are nowhere to be found on our planet. So, for years we've been striking deals with the planet Jantoth. Soon, the present one will expire. We're in the middle of negotiations of a new one. They demand more money, claiming they've been gaining less resources in the last years. But something isn't right. They've only showed us the data on the meeting we had with them and refuse to send it to us. And while I was looking at them, I could tell something is wrong. But I can't tell what.'

'That sounds bad,' Anakin says slowly. 'But why have you come to me with this?'

'We can't allow ourselves to pay them as much as they demand,' you say after a long pause. 'And I don't want them to deceive my people if they're really doing it. I can't conduct my own investigation, it would be… not perceived right. So, I've come to ask for your help. I know I hurt you-'

'It doesn't matter,' he interrupts you. 'I'll do it.'

Your eyes open wide. He stares at you calmly.

'You… will?' you ask, stunned. You were prepared to beg and he says he'll do it? Just like that?

'We… had our differences,' he says slowly. 'My fault. I shouldn't have assumed- I'm sorry. I was hurt, yes. But you need me. I can't turn you down. I'll finish my mission on Naboo, then ask Obi-Wan for help. Together we'll find out what's really going on here.'

'Thank you,' you say, truly grateful. He smiles at you. Hesitantly, you walk to him. You look into each other's eyes. You smile.

'I missed you, you know?' you ask. 'I hated that we were at odds. It made me really unhappy. But it also made me realize…'

'Yes?' he asks eagerly, taking a step toward you. You hesitate.

'That I've been smiling more often ever since I met you and much less after we stopped talking to each other,' you finally say and tilt your head. 'Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone and smile for no reason.'

'[Y/N]…' he says quietly, leaning toward you. This wakes you up and you take a step back.

'I should go,' you say and touch his arm hesitantly. 'Thank you, Anakin. Truly.'

'Anything for you,' he says softly. You share a small smile, then you quickly sneak out of the room. Long after you're gone, he still ponders on your situation.

A few days later, Skywalker returns to Coruscant. It's late after he finishes giving his report, so he goes to his room to rest and decides to talk to Kenobi about your problem the next day. But once again he's woken up by a knock on his door.

'Please, not another mission,' he murmurs and opens the door. He's met again with hooded figure. He recognizes your cloak, but before he can relax, you look up and he sees your tear-stricken face. He's stunned.

'[Y/N]?' he asks, shocked and worried. 'What-?'

'I'm sorry,' you choke out. 'I… I'm so sorry.'

He's terrified now. He quickly ushers you in. He grabs you by your arms tightly.

'Tell me what's wrong,' he begs. 'Please, tell me, how can I help?'

'I can't do it,' you whisper, confusing him. 'I can't do what they expect of me.'

'And… what do they expect from you?' he asks slowly. Your eyes fill with tears again.

'To marry the prince of Jantoth,' you answer, shocking him. 'And I can't do it. I can't marry him, because I can't have a loveless marriage and I will never love him. I know I won't. Because I know you exist, no other man will do. The heart wants what it wants and mine wants you.'

He stiffens. He stares at you with disbelief. It slowly turns into hope.

'What are you saying?' he asks. You look him in the eyes with pain in your eyes.

'It is you,' you say and jab him angrily in the chest. 'It is… kriff… you. I cannot describe it anymore, it is you. You are the only one that I will ever want. I belong with you. You are my home. I look at you and somehow, I can see fifty years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we're together. I need you. You are the only thing that matters. You are my good. I… I love you, Anakin.'

In a second, his hands are on your cheeks and he presses his lips to yours. You should pull away. But it feels so good, so right, and you've dreamt about this moment so much that you find yourself kissing him back.

'Forgive me,' he says after pulling away, panting. 'I just… After hearing you say that, I couldn't help myself.'

'It's okay,' you whisper. He looks at you closely.

'Why would they want you to marry that prince?' he asks. You sigh and turn your head.

'It's an alternative offer for the resources,' you explain. 'I know I should just bear with it but… I can't. Because of you.'

You look at him sadly. He reaches out to you but drops his hand.

'How much time do we have?' he asks after a beat.

'A week,' you answer. 'Then it's going to be announced to the courts. The Prince will formally ask for my hand.'

'Let's go get Obi-Wan,' he decides. You look at him with gratitude. You put back your hood on and follow him quietly through the corridors.

'Anakin?' Kenobi asks, rubbing his eyes, when he opens the door. His eyes drift to you. He frowns. You lift your head to let him see your face and put a finger on your lips. He looks at you with surprise, but lets you in.

'What are you doing here, [Y/N]?' he asks. 'And in such secret?'

You explain your situation to him. You only leave out the part of you loving Skywalker. You just say you can't marry someone you don't love.

'That is serious,' the older Jedi says when you're done. 'And you're sure something is not adding up?'

'Definitely,' you confirm. He hums, finger on his chin.

'We must find an excuse for going there,' he says and looks at you. 'I'm sure you must come back now. Go and rest. Leave it to us. We won't fail you.'

'You never do,' you say, smiling at him. You look at Anakin. He nods.

'We'll see you soon,' he promises.

'Thank you,' you say and sneak out, leaving the Jedi in a deep discussion. On your way home you're a wreck of nerves. Can they save you in time?

*

The week has passed. You had no word from Anakin and Obi-Wan. You're standing in the throne room, watching with dread as your court and guests from Jantoth gather. You still hope the Jedi will show up. But if not… should you just accept the proposal in belief they will get you out of it with their discovery? But what if they don't find anything?

'My lady…' Lanash speaks softly from behind you. You glace at her with sadness.

'Follow your heart,' she whispers. You stare at each other for a moment. But then your father calls for attention. He's trying to be calm, but you see he's grim.

'I'm very glad you've been able to join us today,' he says. He starts talking about the co-operation between your two planets. You stop listening. You focus on him again when he starts speaking that you're going to join a tighter union today. Both courts look at him with interest. Your heart speeds up.

'What is he talking about?' Astrariel whispers to you. You clench your fists. Father forbade to tell her anything. He knew she'd throw a riot in your name.

'And there is no stronger union than marriage,' your father finishes. People start whispering, astonished. Your father takes a step back and the prince of Jantoth, Jordari, takes his place.

'What, for the love of the gods?' your sister asks, stunned. You can't answer, because the Prince turns to you and you must to the same.

'Princess [Y/N] of Luth,' Jordari begins and falls on his knee, which gets him gasps from the courts, 'will you join me in building the strong union between our planets and marry me?'

'Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!' the younger princess hisses. Bless her heart. You'll hug her later. For now, you have to decide what to answer. But all it takes is a look at the Prince's smug smile to get your answer. You open your mouth to strongly refuse, when the door suddenly burst open and three familiar people and one unfamiliar man rush in.

'Hold on, Your Highness!' Obi-Wan calls. People start murmuring, shocked. You want to cry with relief. Your father stands beside you with a frown.

'Master Kenobi, what is the meaning of this?' he asks. Obi-Wan, Skywalker and Tano quickly cross the room to you.

'We have evidence the royal family of Jantoth is trying to deceive you, Your Majesty,' Anakin declares. You want to kiss him. Thank the gods, they have it. You don't even hear gasps nor offended gasps.

'How dare you?!' the Prince asks, furious. He takes a step toward the Jedi and the man. You raise your hand, stopping him.

'That is a serious accusation, Your Highness,' you say and look at him sternly. 'I'd watch your words. They can be used against you. Father, Jedi are our friends. We should hear what they have to say.'

The King nods and looks at Kenobi for explanation. But it's Ahsoka who hands him a datapad.

'Here are the numbers of how much of the resources they've actually collected in the last year,' she says. You look over your father's arm and your eyebrows raise high. That is much bigger number. However, you look at your friends calmly.

'How can you be certain they're real?' you ask. The Jedi look at the mysterious man. He's in his forties and looks as if he's been starving. He plays with a hat in his hands nervously.

'Your Highness… Your Majesty… they got those numbers straight from the storage the resources are stored,' he explains. 'My name is Evan. I helped them get there. I used to work there.'

'I thought the workers are paid nicely,' you say. Andrrei looks at you with pride. He's satisfied you've done your studies.

'They are, Your Highness,' Evan confirms. 'But… like I said, I don't work there anymore. No one from the people I used to work with does. They… they're all dead.'

Stunned silence fills the room. You walk to the man and gently take his hands in yours. You squeeze them gently, looking at him with sympathy. He gives you a look of gratitude.

'Why?' your mother asks, horrified. 'Was there some kind of an accident?'

'They were assassinated,' the Evan answers after a moment and points at Jordari. 'By the order of the Prince!'

People gasp. The royal family of Jantoth is outraged and demands the man to be arrested. Anakin and Ahsoka stand protectively in front of the man.

'Here is the proof, Your Majesty,' Obi-Wan says, switching files on the datapad. 'A confession of the bounty hunter who was tasked with it.'

The King reads the confession carefully. He returns the device to Ahsoka.

'I assume the reason for this is that he wanted to deceive us and force us to give them more money… or for this marriage to happen,' he says. 'And that you were the only people who could declare he's lying.'

'Yes, Your Majesty,' Evan confirms, nodding.

'Your Majesty, you can't honestly believe this-' Jordari starts but your father silences him with his hand. He glares at him.

'The evidence is clear,' he says. 'And it was delivered to us by the Jedi. I have no reason to doubt it.'

'I'd like to know why were they on the case anyway,' the king of Jantoth, Ralcon, says, narrowing his eyes. Your heart skips a beat.

'My wife,' the man says quickly. 'She… she turned out one day at the Jedi Temple. Beg them for their help to find me. You see, I was ill that day they… murdered my friends. I was warned by someone who saw this. I escaped. My wife was worried. Didn't know if I was alive. So, she asked for help.'

Your father is satisfied with that explanation. He turns to the unhappy king of Jantoth.

'I believe we have something to discuss,' he says. They, their wives, you and the Prince leave the room. Astrariel goes with the Jedi in her room and waits nervously. Finally, you enter the room. Everyone looks at you at once.

'So, we are to pay much less and I don't have to marry that douchebag,' you say and fall on a free chair. 'That's a very beautiful day. I think we should drink something.'

'I still can't believe you didn't tell me about this,' your sister says as Lanash hurries for drinks. 'I know I'm the younger princess, but come on!'

'Dad knew you'd flip,' you explain. 'I told him you should know, but he made me swear I'll keep silent.'

'Of course, I'd have flipped!' Astrariel says, outraged. 'He promised us that no matter what we can choose who to marry… and he almost made you marry that… that… I don't even have a word for him!'

'Your father was doing what he believed was best for your planet,' Obi-Wan gently says. 'He did it to protect his people… and you two as well.'

'We know our duties,' your sister argues. 'But this one thing he promised to us…'

'And he intended to keep it,' Lyra says, walking in. 'He was never going to let that wedding happen. He was looking for a third way, I assure you. Luckily, our Jedi friends were even faster.'

She smiles at your friends. They answer in kind. Your mother turns to you.

'They're leaving,' she informs you. 'We have to be there to bid them goodbye.'

'Can I say I hope to never see them again?' the younger princess asks with hope. The Queen sends her a look.

A moment later you watch as the people of Jantoth get on the ship. The Prince turns to you on his way. His gaze is deadly.

'You will regret this,' he hisses. 'This isn't over.'

'Have a nice trip home, Your Highness,' you say. He huffs and turns dramatically. You stick out your tongue at him. Astrariel snorts. You wink at her and hurry back inside. You find the Jedi watching the departure from the window.

'I don't know how I can thank you for that,' you say. Obi-Wan smiles at you.

'We're sorry it took so long,' he apologizes. 'I'm afraid we made it at the last moment.'

'Well, maybe you had a few more minutes,' you respond, shrugging. 'I was going to decline, meaning it would probably cause an uproar and an argument. But I'm glad you walked in when you did.'

'We couldn't let you marry someone you don't love,' Ahsoka says, grinning. You smile at her and pull her in for a hug. You then hug the other two, although with Anakin it is a bit awkward.

'I'm guessing you must leave,' you say.

'I'm afraid so,' Kenobi confirms. 'Take care, [Y/N]. And if you need our help again, let us know.'

'Thank you,' you say. 'And if you need my help, feel free to do the same.'

'Will do,' Tano says with a smile. You nod at them and leave to your room. Skywalker looks after you, hesitating.

'I'll be right back,' he finally says after a minute and hurries after you. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan exchange a look.

'Do you think they will make up?' she asks.

'I hope so,' Kenobi sighs. 'For all of our sakes.'

*

Anakin knocks on the door and enters after hearing a quiet invitation. He finds you by the window, looking outside.

'I thought you have to go,' you say.

'They can wait a bit,' he responds and walks to you. 'I… We have to talk.'

'Nothing changed,' you say quietly.

'You said you feel the same,' he argues and stops behind you. 'That changes everything.'

You turn to face him. He sees pain in your eyes. And a plea to stop this conversation.

'You're still a Jedi,' you remind him. 'Relationships are forbidden for you.'

'I don't care,' he whispers and grabs your chin gently. 'My mind keeps wandering back to you and I don't know how to stop myself from constantly thinking about you and us and everything.'

'You must try,' you say. 'Anakin… I… truly… deeply… love you.'

With each word you lean toward his lips. You both let your eyelids drop a little.

'But if we allow this love to become something more, we would be forced to live a lie,' you whisper with tears in your eyes. 'And it would destroy our lives.'

'Don't you think our lives are going to be destroyed anyway if we're forced to kill the love between us?' he asks. 'I know I can't live without you. And you said you can't marry anyone else. Please. There must be a way we can have this.'

'You'd have to leave the Jedi Order,' you say and shake your head. 'And I can't let you do that. You… you love being a Jedi, helping people. I can't take that away from you.'

'I don't want you to be taken away from me neither,' he whispers and takes your hands in his. 'It would be even worse. Loosing you. I can't tell you how many times I've fallen asleep with you on my mind and woke up the same.'

You look at him with surprise. And you realize it was the same with you. Even before he told you his feelings, after you ended your goodnight's conversation, he was on your mind when you were falling asleep and he was the first person you thought about when you woke up.

'It physically hurt to be away from you,' he whispers, putting a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

'I know what you mean,' you say quietly. 'I… but we… All lies eventually blow up in the faces of liars. You'd be thrown away from the Order. I'd brough a scandal to my family's name. It's too risky.'

'My love, you are worth every risk,' he murmurs and touches your forehead with yours. Your heart skips a beat at those words.

'How would that work?' you ask after a long moment. Anakin's heart fills with hope.

'Everyone will just think we made up,' he starts. 'We've already been calling each other. And… I can come here sometimes. I'll tell Obi-Wan I want to see my mom. He won't be happy but he'll understand. We'll sneak out and… be a couple of young people in love. We can tell my mom. I'm sure she's going to help us.'

'No one else can know,' you say after a beat. 'Not Ahsoka nor your battalion. Nor my family. I hate that.'

'We'll tell them one day,' he promises. 'Maybe… after I become a master in the Jedi Council, I can convince the others to change some of our way.'

'It can take years,' you sigh and smile at him. 'But it can work. And I… I don't think I can live without you anymore.'

He beams at you. You can't look away from his sparkling eyes. You cup his cheek.

'I love you,' you whisper. He mirrors your action.

'And I love you,' he murmurs and nuzzles your nose with his, 'my star.'

You blush at the nickname. You try to think of one for him. But you decide in the end it will come with time.

'So, we're doing this?' he asks. 'Can… can I really call you mine?'

'I'm yours,' you say and look him in the eyes. 'My mind, body and soul belong to you, Anakin Skywalker. My heart beats for you.'

'And I belong to you,' he says, pressing your free hand to his chest. 'This is yours. You are the most important person in my life. I swear to always love, cherish and protect you. I'm yours to do as you please.'

You smile at him. You can't believe you're actually doing this. But you want it. You need it. Need him. Like the air you breath. Or maybe even more.

'Does it mean I can kiss you now?' he whispers, dropping his eyelids a bit.

'Please…' you whisper, doing the same. In a second his lips are on yours. You sigh and kiss him back, feeling complete.

'My love…' you murmur, putting your hand around his neck. 'Anakin…'

'My star…' he gasps. '[Y/N]…'

You pull away after a long moment, panting for breath. You smile at each other and freeze when you notice something in the corners of your eyes. You turn, your faces white.

Lanash stares at you calmly, barely restraining her smirk. She puts away the basket of laundry and clasps her hands together.

'Your secret is safe with me,' she promises and grins. 'I'm always rooting for true love.'

You and Skywalker chuckle and let go of each other. He clears his throat.

'I should go,' he says. 'We must leave and I'd like to see my mother.'

'Of course,' you say and smile. 'Call me tonight?'

'Oh, definitely,' he promises, beaming, and kisses your hand. 'My lady.'

You snort and shake your head. He turns and hurries away. But suddenly he stops, hurries back to you, cups your face and kisses you passionately. He pulls away and runs off, leaving you blushing and dazed.

'I want someone to kiss me like that,' your maid sighs. 'I'm more than happy to help you keep your relationship a secret. But we must tell C-3PO. He can help as well and I can't keep a secret from him.'

You smile, happy how close she's become with your protocolar droid. You sigh.

'But no one else,' you say. She salutes.

'Yes, my lady,' she says and grins. 'Now, tell me what exactly he said to convince you.'

Outside, Anakin hurries to Obi-Wan. They talk quietly for a moment, then Skywalker heads to at least talk for a bit with his mother. The King joins Kenobi.

'He was smiling,' he notices. 'Does that mean they made up?'

'I believe so,' the Jedi says and sighs. 'Thank the Force. He was hard to live with during their argument.'

'The bond between them is really strong,' Andrrei says and glances at his companion. 'Does it worry the Jedi Council?'

'They believe they're simply allies and nothing more,' Obi-Wan answers. 'And it will stay that way.'

Your father nods, satisfied. He looks at the window to your room. He thinks he sees your silhouette.

'I'm very glad she came to you for help,' he says. Kenobi opens his mouth to protest. The King raises his hand.

'Please, Obi-Wan,' he says and looks at him with amusement. 'What kind of father would I be, if I didn't know where my children are? But since I'm also a king… I could only watch from afar. And hope you'll complete the task. Thank you for this.'

'We're always ready to help,' the Jedi says with a smile and offers his hand. Andrrei shakes it.

'Remember, you can count on ours as well,' he says. The men continue to chat politely until Anakin returns. Then the Jedi go on their ship.

'Are you and [Y/N] good, then?' Ahsoka asks Skywalker.

'Yes,' he answers, barely stopping himself from grinning.

'We're happy to hear that,' Kenobi says and looks with worry at his former padawan. 'Just remember to be careful.'

'I know,' his friend says, nodding. He hates he's lying to them, but it's for everyone's best interest.

The ship starts. Anakin walks to a window. He sees you on your balcony. You smile, noticing him as well. You're sad to see him go. But you know you'll see him again. So, you raise your hand in goodbye and he responds in kind, wishing he could just jump and have you in his arms once more. But until then, he'll settle for calling you in the evening.

Thank you for reading! I'm sorry for ending like that, but I promise everything will work itself out. Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60214684/chapters/154262800

[galaxysupreme17]

First Break UP

Hotchniss

Y/n Hotchner sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wall. Her room, once a sanctuary filled with memories of laughter and shared secrets, now felt hollow and cold. The past few days' events replayed in her mind like a cruel loop she couldn't escape.

Jake, her boyfriend of two years, had cheated on her. Not just with anyone but with her best friend, Sarah. The betrayal cut deep, shattering her trust in the two people she thought she could rely on the most.

Her phone buzzed beside her, but Y/n ignored it. She had been avoiding everyone lately—her friends, her dad, even Emily Prentiss, her dad's fiancée, whom she had grown close to over the past year. The pain of betrayal was too raw, too consuming.

Emily and Aaron were standing down the hallway, talking in hushed voices. They discussed what to do when Aaron suggested that Emily try talking to Y/n.

Footsteps approached her door, and a gentle knock echoed through the room. Y/n didn't respond, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and leave her alone. The door creaked open anyway, and Emily stepped inside, expressing concern and empathy.

"Y/n," Emily began softly, her voice filled with compassion. "Can we talk?"

Y/n looked up, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face spoke volumes.

Emily approached slowly, sitting down beside Y/n on the bed. "I know you're hurting, sweetheart. And I can't pretend to understand what you're going through, but I want to be here for you."

Y/n's resolve crumbled at Emily's words. She had been pushing everyone away, but Emily's sincerity touched her heart. "He cheated on me, Em," Y/n finally whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "With Sarah."

Emily's heart broke for Y/n. She reached out and pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting Y/n bury her face in her shoulder as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. You deserve so much better."

For a long time, they sat there in silence, the only sound the quiet sobs of a broken heart slowly trying to mend.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/n slowly began to heal. Emily was there every step of the way, offering a listening ear, words of wisdom, and sometimes just silent companionship. They spent evenings curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading books.

One evening, after Emily had returned home from a horrific case and exhaustion finally caught up with Y/n, she nestled closer to Emily on the couch, her eyes drooping with weariness. Emily gently stroked her hair, the gesture soothing and maternal.

"You should get some rest, sweetheart," Emily murmured as Aaron walked in and smiled at them.

Y/n nodded faintly, feeling safe and cared for in Emily's presence. "Mom," she whispered sleepily, the word slipping out almost unconsciously.

Emily's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected endearment. She looked down at Y/n, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. "Yes, honey?"

Y/n stirred slightly, her voice barely audible as sleep claimed her. "Love you, Mom," she murmured before drifting into a peaceful slumber.

Emily held Y/n close, tears of happiness trailing down her cheeks. It was a moment she had dreamed of but never dared to expect. As Y/n slept peacefully, Emily whispered back, "I love you too, sweetheart," knowing that their bond had deepened beautifully and healingly.

In the quiet of the evening, Emily Prentiss and Y/n Hotchner found solace in each other's presence, their hearts entwined in a journey of healing, forgiveness, and the unbreakable bond of family.

[desognthinking]

WIP... Wednesday

Tagged by @willowedhepatica  (thanks!) I'm so sorry that this comes so late 😭 life got in the way. Not sure who i can tag who has things in the works they can share, but please Please know if anyone has any snippets or sneak peaks I would love to see them and yell about them with you pleaseee

Not strictly a WIP but here’s just under 3.5k of an oldish experimental AU inspired by this post :’) in this one they’re… *checks notes*, ah, hmm. Chimerical tomb guardians carved from stone.   

-----

It’s a wickedly stormy day when a procession scores up the hill through beating rain and blowing dust, but there’s no time to waste. The wedding will not wait, and on its occasion, as a symbol of the new ties between the families of the bride and the groom, there is a terrible, beautiful new guardian grotesque to be received by the Silva tombhouse from the Salviuses. 

It is surely mounted on the property sometime during the silver-black onslaught of sky upon earth, but Beatrice cannot clearly see it through the rain and the  maze of trees that still separates the Silvas from their neighbors. The families on this hill are not quite rich enough to expand at the pace of the wealthiest among them, who slice and raze to add to their already broad campuses of tombs. Instead, in this part of town, modest, often unmatching clusters dwell amongst the wildflowers and long-lived trees sprayed across the land. 

Beatrice likes the nature. Her perch is kept cool by the damp and dewy mornings, birdsong flickering from above and around. In the filtered haze of heat and light there is some measure of peace too – here, there is less to fight over, and fewer lines of tension between the families. Hidden by farther slopes, there are fewer threats from beyond. And, overshadowed by the lower circuit of large gated tombhouses, there are far milder spoils for aspiring robbers. 

It’s from one of these large inner-city tombhouses that the new stone protector is said to arrive. The Salviuses have money spilling out their hands and down their wrists. It’s said, it’s said, it’s said – it’s whispered in the wind that carries the falling leaves from vine to vane, so easy for Beatrice to stretch up and put an ear to. The pollen clouds dispersed over grass in shapes spelling disruption  and newcomer. It’s gossiped over pages in the library, first with smug nods and just you wait and see, dear, we’re never wrong from the grandfathers and grandmothers as Beatrice pores through the volumes in the upper shelves, precious books pressed so high and so far back that they’re backed into both wall and ceiling. 

Then, inevitably, it carries through the air in the giggles and hushed gasps of the living members of this family, hands curling over yarn and needle as the youngest children breathlessly run and hide behind the walls and in the shadowy pockets of the tombhouse. The Great-great-great Grandmother who had been the first to break the news is mollified by the confirmation, and generously refuses to gloat.

A Silva girl is marrying a Salvius boy, and the Salviuses are pledging a guardian – the spirits know they have too many anyway, but still, a Salvius guardian – to this hill. 

“You’ve got to go over and see what’s going on,” Beatrice is instructed one morning, in no uncertain terms. They’re going over integration by partial fractions on the little platform at the back that looks down over the mills: her, Great-Grandfather, and Lilith, who’s slunk over yet again from the Villaumbrosias’ for some ‘peace and quiet’, and also because Beatrice’s family likes her for some mysterious reason. They pretend it’s because they need the extra pair – or, well, pairs, in Lilith’s case – of eyes. The massive, foreboding, Villaumbrosia affair the next hill over already boasts so many fearsome hands on deck, and they only have one Beatrice. 

Great-grandfather is gentle and teasing about it; Beatrice (and Lilith, although she will never admit it) is his favorite captive audience. 

Of course, it’s easy to treat her as one of their own on mornings like this — quiet summer days when she’s stripped of silica and scale, descended from her weatherworn perch. Devoid of the coarse matter of rock and metal twisted into hungry, flame-spitting fangs, and instead merely a soft-spoken spirit in a youthful skin. When the great grandfathers and mothers and their grandfathers and grandmothers look at her and see dark, almost-human eyes and loosely-bound hair in a bun above her shoulders.  

And when Beatrice walks Lilith out and across the rocky way that leads home, it’s easy for them to wave the two of them off. After all, Lilith is just a young woman with black waves she tucks carefully behind her ears and a handsome, slanting jaw that could almost pass as being real; as being pressed and molded with muscle and mandible and a fragile, mycelial network of vasculature and nerves. Not another delicate illusion that would slip and shatter at the first sign of danger, revealing in a flash the grotesque ugliness within.

There hasn’t been an attack in a while. When there hasn’t been an attack in a while Beatrice thinks the family tends to forget where exactly they hold court.

(Here, cradled close enough within these hills to walk back to where home once was. Children’s handprints on the threshold, coal scribbles on the floor. Walls still perfused with the fragrance and vapor of hot homemade stew.)

This is a graveyard. This is a necropolis, a city of the dead. It slithers amongst the roots of the living but does not make a home of it. In its palm lies the fragile in-between, the sickly sweet intersection where the living and the after-dead mingle like the meeting of two clouds. Within its grounds the family is wont to forget the ruthlessness that’s sometimes needed to keep it in balance.

Once they depart, Beatrice and Lilith’s guises fall away. Invisible to a still-beating heart, two terrible chimeras gouge skid-marks through the dirt to get to the Villaumbrosia citadel before its guests arrive at ten-thirty. Miraculously, only twice during the entire trip does Lilith half-heartedly threaten to snap Beatrice’s tail off. 

They make it there just in time. Beatrice watches as Lilith sweeps her way up the manicured moss columns and melds, in a quick thrash, with the magnificent dark-gray creature of stone that lunges out from the south turret. Frozen like this: mouth curled in a snarl and sharp wings flung out – in mockery, in bombast, in warning; Lilith at her most vindictive and most frightening, the elaborate Villaumbrosia insignia branded hot and painful down her side.

Beatrice knows it hurts, of course. Perhaps less so like this but certainly in the flesh, where it is always red and raw like the day it was carved down Lilith’s ribs in the workshop. Preserved unchanging in the meat as it is preserved forever in the rock. Lilith winces, when she thinks the others aren’t looking, but Beatrice knows. Camila might say something – probably does say something, but Beatrice doesn’t. She understands too well, and after all, what can they do?

After all, this is their work. This is life: whatever is asked of them. For Lilith today, it is to be a showpiece for guests at a bloated, overwrought tea ceremony. Broadly, it is watchman, and protector, and advocate. And at times like these, when there is a stir in the tangled ecosystem of bloodlines and their guardian-creatures, Beatrice is called upon to be an ambassador. 

So, the day after the storm, Beatrice leaves her perch to seek out the Silvas. She glides down from the still-slippery stone, and lands softly on the wet earth, scale meeting fur meeting soil and humid air. 

In her hands – her metaphorical hands – she clasps fistfuls of string that stretch, infinitely thin, to every corner of her tombhouse. She flexes each one and puts it between her teeth as she steps over the threshold and into the trees, testing their elasticity and tensile strength. If there is to be a twang, however minute, she must feel it. There is only one of her at home.

As she approaches the Silva tombhouse the air around her shifts and seems to solidify into a medium both probing and warning. Beatrice stills, allowing the woods to see her and course through her calmness. They know her, of course, and she waits for them to pass on the message to the newest guardian, still incredibly sensitive to the prickle of unfamiliar movement and sound. 

Presently, physically, the world exhales. 

Beatrice cautiously continues forward, until the treeline peels away to reveal the Silva tombhouse.

Tombhouse, as it goes, is a misnomer – a tombhouse is a complex rather than a single shell. It is no single cell for a coffin, but a collection of connected mausoleums and courtyards and passageways and corners and gates, lifted high and tunneled low. And as befitting a clan of esteemed craftsmen, the Silva tombhouse is a harmonious set spiraling outwards in organic whorls. Its walls are scraped clean and brushed beige, curled and leafed and folded in at the edges. Delicate and pretty in its strength in a way Beatrice’s own plain, stoic little set of residences could never be.

At the top of the central mausoleum, bounded by a parapet, rests a flat platform. On that ledge sits the new grotesque. 

Ink-black stone peeks curiously down at Beatrice. 

Immediately it is clear that she is like nothing Beatrice has ever seen before. Yes, as is tradition she is joined and jawed together piecemeal from various symbolic beasts, but this composition and style is unique. 

She’s simultaneously entirely unlike both the typical statues produced by-the-dozen in the workshops, and the specially commissioned sculptures like Beatrice herself. This guardian is a patchwork of shapes and textures Beatrice has only ever seen in the watercolor sketches of her tombhouse’s own library as belonging to exotic creatures from faraway places. Still other elements escape her recognition and description, and everything meshes deftly at smooth, near-invisible seams. 

Perhaps this isn’t surprising in a Salvius guardian – Jillian’s own commission too, it’s rumored. No less should be expected from someone the alchemists and scientists alike shy away from. Jillian Salvius considers herself a traveler, and a collector, and a dabbler, and Beatrice hears that the spokes of her gates are gnarled and carved in strange patterns from foreign lands.

The guardian shifts and cocks her head curiously, and Beatrice pulls herself together sharply.

“Hi,” the creature says. “You must be the neighbor from the east.”

Beatrice snaps back into polite, exceedingly proper posture. She nods, dipping forward in a movement resembling a bow. It makes the high-perched creature giggle, gauzy like air.

“Good morning,” she replies. “My name is Beatrice, and you’re right. How did you know?”

The guardian doesn’t answer. She separates from her stone in a miasma of color, swoops down noisily, and lands, a little clumsily, on a lower ledge. “Two heads, huh?” she says, thoughtfully. “Kinda perfect for the scholars.”

It’s not said judgmentally; more so with a further curious slant of her head, observational and light. Beatrice feels strange and semisolid all over.

She doesn’t correct the new guardian; tell her that no, she hadn’t actually been crafted or blessed for this bloodline, only gifted to them just one generation ago. And gifted rather carelessly, at that; an obligatory token presented upon the death of the benefactor’s tutor.

Before that her two heads were designed not as a tribute to wisdom or a paean to collaboration, but in order to stare proudly over an excessive estate, stretching out in opposite directions over land too vast for merely one head to behold. An arrogant symbol of not just physical, but political reach. She was a status symbol for powerful people – two-faced might be a better descriptor. 

Beatrice has always considered this with some bitterness, but today, she oddly feels no urge to self-flagellate. She feels, suspiciously, nothing at all; a fuzzy blank.

Instead, in response to the guardian, Beatrice blinks. Both of her heads do. They crane and incline together, like long-necked birds bending to convene. She feels sharp ears on each one twitch and flutter.

The creature laughs again. She descends further to the porch, then approaches Beatrice slowly. “I’m Ava,” she introduces herself, finally. Shyly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ava,” Beatrice repeats, careful and hushed. She parses it over and traces it as though threading a needle – how the strange, simple symmetry of the word, the hypnotic up-down-up of A-V-A,  doesn't begin to encompass the entity approaching her. On cue, Ava does a funny, shuddery motion that cascades down her whole form. 

Beatrice, leaning her heads over old tomes like water jugs tipped over a parched tongue, dreams of fantastical things, from places that often sound even more surreal. And yet before her now stands the most peculiar thing alive yet, that defies everything she’s known and seen. 

Yes, clearer now before her eyes, Ava is a patchwork of impossible parts. 

Up close Beatrice can see she’s also a riverbed of illusory things. Small divots seem to scoop themselves out, sink deep, and then ripple back up into the surface of her body. Bubbling, and collapsing, and reforming, like springs of molten mother-of-pearl. Each little cavity shimmers like roughened gemstones: a gasping, dark blue, like well water under the sun; or a moody green like the light-starved undershade in a storm; or a thawing amber that Beatrice cannot even describe except that it looks like the smell of hot bread with a sweet cream core, tempting and steaming.

“Beatrice,” Ava echoes, her eyes gleaming and dark. They bubble expressively and endlessly deep. Gazing at Beatrice, straight, still and pondering. Searching. 

Silence stretches until it doesn’t. 

Something snaps – a bird on a twig above –  and Ava shakes herself awake. “Where’s my manners!” she exclaims suddenly. “Come on,” she swishes around gamely. Beatrice, bewildered, sneezes. 

She’s learning quickly that when Ava laughs, the dense tassel-like feathers on the back rise in delighted reflex and splay apart. 

The two of them slip between trees into a little glade, buoyed by her relentless charm and a thrumming current of something else, in the undertow.

Once upon a time, this was a courtyard, although now that the Silva tombhouse has unfurled in the opposite direction it’s been allowed to tastefully overgrow into its former self, mossy and scruffy. Old pieces of wall and pillars still cordon off one side; Beatrice resists the temptation to bound about and explore, and instead parks herself primly at a corner, not fidgeting.

Ava has no such compunctions. She wriggles herself into a comfortable position on a large boulder. Her weapon of a tail dangles down and bats at the ground idly, uprooting chunks of grass. 

“How are you finding it here?” Beatrice asks, trying very hard to be normal. 

“Honestly? I don’t know yet,” Ava grins, “and you’re the first one of us I’ve met here.” 

She pauses, cocks her head to one side so strikingly. The gesture almost looks human. “You know, my new folks think very highly of you,” She looks appraisingly over Beatrice with an indecipherable expression.

Beatrice feels quite hot. “Mine are curious about you.”

There is a shift in the air as Ava straightens abruptly. Her tail stills. “What will you tell them?”

Beatrice bites her tongues, undecided. She’d meant to think of it later, to phrase and rephrase and turn the words over and over in her mouth on the way back to get them right. It takes a while, usually, to distill her thoughts precisely into words that balance both insinuation and tone, and half the time it ends up all too stilted and formal anyway. How people seem to be able to do that, off the cuff – it’s confusing. Far easier, Beatrice thinks, to sit quietly beside and let such people do the talking.

Especially now that this seems, somehow, to be important to Ava. And especially now that she finds she doesn’t quite have any of the words.

If Beatrice had hands she would wring them. She thinks, distantly, of what someone else wiser than her might say. “They’ll agree with me that you’re certainly unique,” she starts, and it’s like Shannon’s talking through her, stately and gentle. Bold, like Mary. 

She adds, in an abrupt impulse that’s, alarmingly, all Beatrice, “I do think you’ll fit in well here.”

“Oh,” Ava seems surprised. Her tail, heretofore curled tightly on the boulder, relaxes and turns a loose arc in the air, hacking at the grass. “Thanks,” she looks at Beatrice, and inhales sharply, although not unkindly. 

Pauses. Sheepishly, she adds, “I’ve heard some people, uh, calling me devilish and other things, you see. But you know, it’s fine. Whatever.”

Beatrice grimaces involuntarily, then schools her expression back into an empathetic nod. It’s not unexpected. There’s bound to be a procession of curious gawkers and onlookers filing through to try and catch a glimpse of something hailing from the elusive Salviuses. Beartice knows the type: traditional, gossipy and busybodies.

They’ll take one look up the roof and gasp in disbelief or disgust, probably. Sneer up at the twisted, unnatural proportions, if they’re brave. Ava runs too close to the precipice of their diluted tolerance.

“The Silvas are good people. They’ll stand by you.” Beatrice isn’t sure if it helps, but it’s true. The households here are the little silver lining of this part of town, otherwise ragged and out of the way and a little discordant in its hues.

Ava exhales gently. Beatrice thinks there’s a small smile there. “I know.”

“It doesn’t make it easier.”

“Yeah. I know,” repeats Ava, her eyes shining, and it’s almost like she really does. 

Beatrice understands. They did it to her, too, after all.

The people who commissioned her had made a puppet of her. They had demanded a departure from classical references and therefore affixed to her frame things like startling, swiveling joints and odd angles.  Two heads, of course, among other modifications – all in an arrogant, ambitious drive to defy tradition and create a visionary symbol of fear and envy.  Instead, the lay beholder glanced upon the warped anatomy and thought it blasphemy. And so, Beatrice rapidly became that to her own family too: acrid to the eyes, rotted in the soul, a disembowelment. Failure. An embarrassment. 

The whispers billowed large like cotton sheets drying in the fields, caught and blown out in the wind.

It was a matter of time. Beatrice imagines the tiny family offspring being taught their true oral history in a sugary sick little chant, clapping their chubby hands cheerfully and squealing every grim word, 

Then the old teacher died / and it was a great relief / The family rushed to ready / a token of public grief

Her, of course. Her, and not any of the cruder, more sedate, stone guardians that studded the estate. The small ones who, on a good day, sat patiently and circulated air and respired noisily, and who were not capable of thought or pain. The family had a lot of them lining their walls, not much more than large decorative lumps of dough programmed to trap, waylay, or bite at intruders. 

Instead, they parted ways with the looming, ghastly and elaborate figure that guarded one of their main wings, and painted it as a great outpouring of sadness. Beatrice knew better.

The whole event was swift; almost planned in advance. She’d barely had time to send an urgent warning to Lilith before she was gone – a failed experiment in pomposity that took an unforeseen and regrettable turn into the profane. 

In a matter of days she was transplanted from lush green gardens into dry hills bathed in reedy, half-obscured sunsets. The kind of neighborhood her old family would call avant-garde or ‘forward-thinking’, although with a scoff that betrayed what they really thought.

And at night, looking down to sleeping homes, Beatrice would hear in the nothingness the same whispers splashing down the stone like rain, all over again.

Mindlessly, now, she has the sudden urge to reach out and feel. Fluttering cells or hardened stone, it doesn’t matter. She wants to transmute a hand of tender human pulp and skin, and run fragile fingers softly over the strangest braided foldery and flattening of membrane, bumps and spindles until they catch, pierce and bleed. 

And she so badly wants to tell Ava: I think you’re nightmarish and very beautiful. You would hold an army off this humble hill. like holding out a pathetic little bundle of flowers– but she doesn’t. It’s too long and too much; I’m here. is too short, and both are too naked. She’s not that kind of creature. She’s carved from solid rock and even when she sheds it it still feels like its weight chains her to the earth.

Her voices remain even and steady, somehow. 

“I –This isn’t the customary welcome and introductory visit,” Beatrice confesses, in lieu of it all.

“Oh. It’s not?”

Beatrice shakes her heads. “There’ll need to be a more official one.” 

The overlapping layers of spines along Ava’s limbs rise and then flatten, quickly.  “So I’ll get to see you again soon?” 

Feeling warm, or moist, or something like a pillar of pressurized foam, Beatrice clears her throats. “I suppose so. Yes.”

[husbandhoshi]

2:17am + coups? author’s choice ~~~~

[2:17]

the night presses into your eyes, two indigo thumbs deep in the sockets.

february is an unkind month. the air is cold and wet and lives in your bones, even under the weight of the blanket you have wrapped around you.

i should really go to bed, you tell yourself, but sleep is a capricious lover, and it feels like the kind of 2 AM you spend rearranging your fridge magnets and staring out the fog-damp window, searching for the swallowed up moon.

it's a bad habit, which is what you like calling all the broken things in your apartment. the whine of the central heating, the dishwasher you have to ram your hip into to close, the missing handle of your pantry cabinet. you like to joke that your rent also pays for whatever sleep anomaly befalls you.

seungcheol has tried to fix every single one of those things. he rolls his white tee to the shoulders, americana smile almost the perfect kind of flex tape.

you tell him you prefer it this way. there's a groove in the pantry door the shape of your hand. you think better at night.

now, you're reminded of what could possibly be the worst sin of your apartment—the front door squeaks like a bastard, and this time it's loud enough to startle.

it's one more thing that you refuse to fix. this, too, you want written into the dna of your home because it means seungcheol's back from another late night at work.

when he first moved in, he had really tried to live quietly as to not wake you. hushed step, held breath, a ghost as he wordlessly slipped into bed. but you both know seungcheol's all big voice, big laugh, big hands searching for your warmth—asking for anything else was like living with all the lights off.

(one night, seungcheol attempted getting ready for bed in the complete darkness. he was doing remarkably well until he stubbed his toe on the nightstand and unleashed the loudest string of whisper-curses you had ever heard.

welcome home, loser, you had said, full blast into the pitch black, and you both laughed, heady and full bellied and in love.)

i want to know when you come home, you had told him, and only after he hemmed and hawed about a sleep schedule did he fully sink into the warmth of being so loved by you.

as certain as just about anything in your apartment, you can predict exactly what happens next.

the thud of his bag as it hits the floor—the keychain on the zipper rattles. the dull click of the deadbolt. the terrifying surety of his strong arms wrapped tight around your middle.

he doesn't ask if you had a hard day at work. he doesn't ask about your february bones or why the magnets are out of order.

much like he knows about all of the ailments these four walls hold, he knows you.

"i missed you," he says, smushed against your cheek.

"you always miss me," you reply. you thread your hand through his own, eager, never tired of the mondays or tuesdays or any day after that because he gets to do this at the end of it.

"and?" he laughs. his lips are soft on your neck. he's cold from outside but he is never without warmth and you think that's your favorite thing about him. "permission to defrost under the blanket?"

"hm," you say, pretending to think. the truth is that the answer is always the same, but no one keeps him on his toes quite like you.

" 'cause i can think of a whole lot of other ways to warm up."

"hopefully one of those involves a long shower."

"are you propositioning me?"

your back is to his chest, but the honey-drip smile he's got pressed to the crown of your head is all but secret.

he smells like sweat and car freshener but the second truth of today is that it's like home and 2 AMs and you and that's the terrible thing about being in love. you never were the type to share, and now there are two pairs of slippers by the front door.

"i'm propositioning that you have a hot date with a bottle of shampoo," you tease.

"and my beautiful wife?"

"your beautiful wife has work tomorrow."

as per usual, he's not listening—his smile has turned to kisses, and it's all over for you.

a hand up your hoodie, his laughter on your tongue, the gauzy, too-dim kitchen light. the days are long and home is made of many creaking, tired things, but it's this moment that you'll always want to return to, again and again and again.