#they told me and two guys to dress in gray sweat pants and shirts and sit curled up on the floor 👍👍👍👍

[rapidhighway]

whats the shittiest role you got in a school play? i got to play a rock once

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

what is hybrid marking

8.2 million results. 

While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-

“How do I look?” 

The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.

“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”

You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots. 

When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder. 

Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to. 

You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.  

“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.” 

You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars. 

“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?” 

“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.” 

The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it. 

“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”

He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod. 

You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”

He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it. 

The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.”  They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away. 

The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”

“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you. 

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” 

You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?” 

“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”

“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”

“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”

Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.

Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off. 

You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises. 

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements. 

“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”

“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better. 

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. 

“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?” 

Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”

That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation. 

“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech.  “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.” 

You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.

“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.” 

The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem. 

“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him. 

“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”

You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself. 

“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”

Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.

“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”

All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”

“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.” 

The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival. 

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”

You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.” 

The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile. 

“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”

You frown. “Jimin-”

“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips. 

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger. 

“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips. 

“I’ll do my best!” You say,  a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go. 

“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”

“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.” 

It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”

True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.

The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”

“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.

“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”

He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong? 

Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.

Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”

Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.

Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation. 

Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.

You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.

The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.

Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.

Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.

You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.

“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’

You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound. 

“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”

“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?” 

“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”

“But you were his attorney.” 

For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.

The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.

“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.” 

The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater. 

Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.

You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.

Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.

“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”

You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.” 

“Can’t you just have him apologize?”

Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.” 

You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”

The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach. 

“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”

“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door  just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you. 

The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.

Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears. 

“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”

“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.” 

A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.” 

The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor. 

“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”

You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you. 

This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director. 

“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.” 

Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth. 

“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”

That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-

“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.” 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”

“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut. 

You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back. 

If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white. 

One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding. 

The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue. 

There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster. 

“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”

A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.

“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster. 

“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.” 

You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.

“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”

“And his mother?” You ask, quietly. 

“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following. 

You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car. 

You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad. 

You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks. 

You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart. 

She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard. 

You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys. 

“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.” 

You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.

The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. 

The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you. 

“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”

“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you. 

“Ms. Y/N-”

“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you. 

You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope. 

Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind. 

Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip. 

His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now. 

You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.

The room is a veritable Eden. 

There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful. 

“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too. 

A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-

A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.” 

You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”

He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines. 

He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian. 

“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”

“I’m not here to deliver your food.”

He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”

You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”

He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years. 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”

“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar. 

Your stomach turns. 

You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him. 

His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”

You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you. 

When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day. 

You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again. 

“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.

You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.

“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down. 

“Do you need time to pack, or-?”

He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be. 

How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden. 

He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside. 

You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest. 

“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant. 

You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”

His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.” 

Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”

“Fourteen.” He bites out. 

“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth. 

The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.” 

A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion. 

However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 

A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him. 

“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”

Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“

A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.

“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!” 

The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints. 

It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?”  It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him. 

A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”

He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly. 

She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?” 

It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he  doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.

“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs. 

“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.” 

You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.

“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine. 

“Joonie-” he pleads. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim. 

To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore. 

The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow. 

You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.

The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”

He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”

“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.

“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.

He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled. 

“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”

“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot. 

“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked. 

The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence. 

You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.

Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you

You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.

Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi

Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply

You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!

Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi 

Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call

You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.

“...Hello?”

“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly. 

“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”

“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy.  “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver. 

“...Yeah.” 

You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through. 

Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you

“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”

The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”

Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head. 

“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions. 

“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.

“What do you-?”

“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon. 

“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.

“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”

You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.

It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that. 

The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.

“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”

Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.

He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city. 

“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”

“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”

His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king. 

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”

“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier. 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come. 

You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby. 

It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout. 

Yoongi. 

“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back. 

“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low. 

You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical. 

“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls. 

“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.” 

Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”

“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger. 

This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”

It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?” 

You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.” 

The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify. 

“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”

“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up” 

You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.

The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat. 

Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him. 

“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?

“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now. 

“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling. 

By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period. 

Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow. 

By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.

[cherrycocaineee]

17. Min Yoongi - Aftercare

*Warning - mentions of sex, making out* *Slanted, bold words mean that it’s being spoken in Korean.*

*Min Yoongi’s p.o.v*

      The sweet smell of sex filtered out of the room once I cracked the window open, letting the cool air drift through the hot, sweaty room, emptying it out. Hadley’s tired form was covered by the thin sheet, her sweet, bright brown eyes drooping tiredly. Even though she was tired, she still made an effort to smile at me happily. Chuckling, I crawled back on top of the bed and moved over to her. She turned over to her back and watched as I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

 “Let’s get you taken care of,” I whispered against her fleshy, soft, pink lips.

 “You don’t have to, Yoongi,” she replied, “I’ll do it. You should rest.”

 But I ignored her, gently grabbing her shoulders and pulling her upright. The sheet she was using slipped a little, almost revealing her breast. I looked down at them, spotting the reddish, purple marks I had caused to form after assaulting her flesh with my mouth. Her cheeks started to turn a bit red as she caught me staring.

 “Yoongi,” she whined.

 I took the sheet off of her and pulled her into my arms; her naked form brushing against the cloth of my gray sweatpants. Her head pressed against my shoulder; the feeling of her brown, soft hair touching my skin caused me to shiver. I took her into the bathroom and placed her in the tub. The heat from the hot water mixed with the aroma of the bath bomb and bubbles I had added to it. Vanilla and coffee, the two smells that reminded me of Hadley the most, especially when I was away on tour. Kneeling beside the tub, I grabbed the wash cloth I had pulled out and dipped it in the water. Hadley sunk a little lower into the water, a relaxed breath puffing out as she closed her eyes. I could only smile, feeling absolute love and admiration for the girl sitting in front of me.

  I started dragging the cloth over her body and wiping away the sweat that was still clinging to her skin. My eyes watched her breast move up and down as she continued to breathe; her breath was getting heavier and I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or aroused from all of my touching. Not wanting to take the chance of her being asleep in the water, I reached over and shook her. Her eyes fluttered open.

 “Don’t fall asleep,” I hummed, “it’s dangerous.”

 “Yes sir,” she whispered, tiredly.

 I smiled again and continued to clean her up. Once all of her body was cleaned, I moved to washing her hair, pouring a cup of already soapy water over her head. A soft giggle left her lips as the water showered over her.

 “Yoongi,” she said, “come on, you don’t have to wash my hair too.”

 “Let me spoil you, doll,” I hummed in her ear, “I hardly get to do this being away for so long. And aftercare is important.”

 “Oh fine. But tomorrow, I’m taking care of you.”

 I only hummed in response, letting her go back to relaxing instead of talking. I wanted her to enjoy herself. After washing her hair and rinsing her off, I wrapped a towel around her frame and picked her back up, not caring if I got wet. Placing her on the bed, I went over to the dress and grabbed her brush and hair dryer. It wasn’t good for her to have wet hair.

While I blow dried and brushed her hair, I listened to her read from the book she grabbed off her nightstand. The book was called

“The Great Gatsby”

and it was one of her favorite books. Just hearing her voice when she read from the page made me happy. I stopped the hair dryer and leaned over her shoulder, staring at the book’s pages, unable to read them just yet. However, Hadley was teaching me every day how to read and pretty soon I would be able to read the book to her while she was falling asleep.

   Hadley’s brown eyes turned to look at me, her soft, puppy dog stare watching me curiously.

“Everything okay?” She inquired.

 “Yeah,” I whispered, “I’m just admiring the most beautiful girl in the room.”

 “You’re too kind.”

 I nestled my head into the crook of her neck, she turned back and continued to read a little longer while I rested. After a while, I finished drying and brushing her hair then started her skin care routine. Once again, she tried to tell me to let her do it but I ignored her. My baby deserved much more after sex so this was the least I could do for her. Hadley started laughing when I wiped her makeup off.

 “That tickles,” she laughed.

 All I could do was laugh with her. Hadley told me each step to her normal skin care routine while I did it. I was putting a clay mask on her when she climbed into my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist. When I first arrived, she had asked me if I had worked out because I was starting to get thicker and harder around my torso area. I cleaned my fingers off with a baby wipe just as Hadley reached over and grabbed the clay mask.

 “You do one too,” she said, taking a small amount in her hand and starting to put it on my face.

 I let her put the mask on and couldn’t stop myself from smiling. She was amazing. After putting the clay mask all over my face, she wiped her hands clean and set a timer, telling me that we had to leave it on for 10 minutes before taking it off. In the meantime, I watched Hadley go through her photos on Instagram; recently having posted some photos from her recent trip to the beach with a group of her friends. I enjoyed looking at the photos of her. Soon, she asked me to see the photos from my trip back home. So I showed her the ones I took, and some of the ones Jungkook and Hoseok took of me when I had my hands full.

  We were so content with what we were doing that the sound of Hadley’s alarm going off made us jump. She reached over and grabbed her phone, pressing the off button on her alarm. The two of us headed into the bathroom again and started rinsing off the clay mask that now felt like a sticky paste, ready to be taken off.

 Hadley used warm water to rub the clay off her face, her fingers moving in swift circles. I followed in her footsteps and did the same, watching her as she made sure to get every spot and carefully moving around her eyes and mouth so the clay didn’t touch there. Once all  the clay was gone, she dabbed her face gently with a soft towel, her name printed on it, then handed it to me so I could do the same. I started rubbing my face when she stopped me.

 “No silly,” she smiled, “dab, don’t rub.”

 Nodding my head, I started dabbing the water off my skin; her fingers still lingering against my skin as I did so. Our eyes locked. Setting the towel on the counter, I grabbed her hands and moved closer to her, my lips becoming incredibly close to hers.

 “I love you,” I said to her.

 “I love you too,” she said.

 My lips collided with hers, moving softly at first but then getting rougher with each passing second. Hadley’s arms wrapped around my neck as mine wrapped around her waist. I lifted her up, placing her bare ass on the counter top, our lips never disconnecting. Her small fingers tangled themselves into my hair as she moaned into my mouth. I slid my hands down to her thighs and squeezed, causing her to gasp leaving an opening for me to slip my tongue in. She moaned a bit louder when she felt my tongue exploring the inside of her wet cavern.

  Because of the lack of air, I had to pull away, panting and watching the small drip of drool pull from between us. My lustful eyes staring into her submissive eyes. Not a single word left our lips, but we were interrupted by the sound of my phone going off. Groaning, I removed my hands from her thighs and headed out of the bathroom to see who was interrupting my time with Hadley. Hadley followed soon after, grabbing one of her t-shirts from her drawer and throwing it on, not bothering to put on any panties, and climbed into bed.

I pressed the answer call, seeing that Jungkook was calling, and pushed the screen to my ear.

“Jungkook, why are you calling?”

I asked, stealing a quick glance at Hadley, hoping she wouldn’t fall asleep yet.

 “I was told to see when you’re coming home,”

he replied,

“we have a big photoshoot tomorrow, so no one wants you to be late.”

 “I’m not coming back home tonight. I’m spending the evening with Hadley.”

 It was almost silent on the other end as Jungkook was relaying my message to whoever wanted to know my whereabouts. A few moments passed and Jungkook came back to the phone.

 “Okay, just make sure that you’re here before noon. That’s when the photoshoot is.”

 “Alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Goodnight, tell the others goodnight too.”

 “Goodnight, hyung. Tell Hadley I said goodnight! Bring her to the photoshoot tomorrow if she can come.”

 I wasn’t able to get another word out because Jungkook hung up quickly. Sighing, I placed my phone on the dresser and turned to see Hadley laying in bed, her eyes closed. Smiling, I climbed under the covers with her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She looked up at me.  “Goodnight, Yoongi. Thank you for taking care of me.”  “Goodnight, my love. I’ll always take care of you.”  With that, the two of us fell asleep in each other's arms. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of us breathing and the wind drafting through the room, still ridding the air of our previous sexual encounter. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was able to sleep peacefully. Not worrying about the manager walking in and telling me to get up, or the others walking in to wake me up so I can fix something. I could just sleep with the girl I loved. And I couldn’t picture anything better.

[jtsfavslut]

Desperado [GD]

Description: Grayson participates in the famous November challenge, but Y/N has made it her mission to make him fail. 

Warnings: Ahh yes...smut, cinge, idk what else 

Word Count: 2.5K+

Touch starved.

The term was an understatement for your current situation. Why? Because your boyfriend decided to participate in the famous no nut fucking November. To say you hated it was another understatement.

You despised how committed he was to it. And to make matters worse, he didn't shave either.

And you being you, you were a whore for Grayson's beard. It was mid-November so it was right where you liked it, a bit past the scruff period.

Every Time you looked at him, your core did nothing but ache. Your legs clenched at the memory of how good he felt between them, his big arms wrapped around them; Holding you close to him as he made you cum for the 4th time that night with just his fingers and mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts?" His voice ranged in your head making you shake your filthy thoughts and memories away.

"Hmm?" you hummed turning to look at him, a smirk on his face disappearing when he licked his lips, coming back short after.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing," you shrugged it off, but he knew. Grayson was fluent when it came to your body language, knowing what everything meant, even the slightest movement.

"Nothing? You've been staring at me and cleaning your legs, you're biting your lip and you're flushed. I know that look from a mile away, Angel," he taunted, making you turn your head and look away, scoffing in response.

"It's just hot in here. You have the heat all the way up," you murmured before getting up and walking away. 

"Are you serious?"

"It's just really hot in here that's all" an idea comes to mind and you strip your hoodie.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, already knowing where you're going with this "really"

"Yeah just really hot" you take your shirt off as well, leaving you in a bra and jeans, you were about to take off your pants before he verbally stopped you.

"Angel, don't you dare," his voice was stern and rough, letting you know you were working him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything bad, I'm gonna go swim," you replied before walking away, a smirk on your face, "To each their own Bailey, to each their own,"

"Keep it up, y/l/n," he whispered but you were long gone to even hear it, your feet dipped inside the cool pool water as you looked up at the clear sky.

Your attempt was a slight fail, it was good, just not good enough to crack Grayson.

Grayson Dolan was stubborn. Maybe as stubborn as they came, you blamed that on three things; his cockiness, his ego, and the fact that his top three had an influence on his personality.

But you couldn't give it. You had made it your mission throughout the entire month of November.

It was now the last day of the month, and you needed Grayson to crack. You needed him to crack hours before the month ended. You wanted to be as close as he could, yet as far as he could. Your plan was evil, perhaps it was, but it wasn't fair that you were forced to compete in a ridiculous, immature, high-school like bet.

You were sure this plan was going to work. You felt it in your bones. You were clever enough to use one of Grayson's qualities, and a few of his traits against himself.

If there's anything that Grayson was, other than stubborn, was dominant and jealous. One wrong look from a guy and he was railing you, fucking the pretty out of you, not that it worked since in his eyes, your prettiest state was when you were fucked out. Hair frazzled into all sorts of directions, a few beads of sweat dripping down your hairline onto your forehead, mouth slightly opened as deep, tired breaths fell past your lips, sore shaking legs, chest rising up as your eyes closed. A sight only he got to see, a sight he caused.

Your skimpy blood-red dress clutched onto your body in the most perfect way, a pair of matching heels covered your perfectly pedicured feet, a pair of silver snake earrings held onto your ears, and a simple matching snake necklace adorned your neck. A silver purse completed your outfit as you applied the last bit of gloss and highlighter you needed before slipping out of your vanity, grabbing your phone before leaving your room, walking towards the couch where Grayson laid on, a pair of gray sweats, with air forces, were present on his body.

"I'll be back around 2 am, don't wait up for me," you spoke, your nails suddenly becoming more interesting than a shirtless Grayson, "Peace you," you turned to walk away before his voice suddenly stopped you, a smirk making its way on and off of your face before you turned back around to face him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, placing his phone down before sitting up straight, his once hazel eyes scanning your body up and down.

"Out, where else?" you carelessly replied as he chuckled.

"Out where? With who?" he questioned, a dry chuckle falling past your lips as you shook your head, clutching on to your purse.

"The club, with Vinnie, invited me out for some drinks," you replied, only receiving a glare and a scoff.

"Since when do you go clubbing?" he asked and you shrugged.

"Since when do you care?" you scoffed, "Anyways, he's here, I need to go, have fun," and with that, you were gone.

You were out the door, as Grayson's anger increased. Sure, he did trust you. But he also knew about your history with Vincent.

He knew everything, from how you went from best friends to fuck-buddies, to best friends again, so he felt a bit uncomfortable with you going out for drinks with someone you spent countless nights with.

Vinnie however, was aware of everything. He was your last resort. You knew how jealous Grayson got whenever he was around. Of course, he agreed, knowing how sexually active you were. He knew you couldn't last a month. He was in fact surprised you had gotten this far without touching yourself, which he knew because you told, just like you did with everything else.

"Do you think this will work?" He asked, taking a shot of the tequila he had ordered, "Like was he mad?"

"He was furious, you should've seen his face," you replied after swallowing the aged liquid, the slight burn giving you nothing but satisfaction, "He should be checking my location right about now," you giggled when the tiny typing bubble popped up in your texts with Grayson. It had been a few hours since you left, meaning Grayson was probably getting ready to bring you home and punish you for being bad and bratty.

"Hey, if he doesn't give you what you want, just know, I'm always up for you," Vinnie smirked, flashing his hand on your face, rings adore his fingers, as black nail polish perfectly laid on his nails.

"In your dreams Vincent," you playfully smacked his hand, knowing he was only playing around.

"You're right, you know? I liked you more when I had you to myself," he scoffed, shaking his head, taking another shot letting out a groan at the taste.

"Oh please V, I'm sure you have plenty of entertainment around," you rolled your eyes as you stared at his hands.

Oh, how you wished Grayson would accomplish your wishes of painting his nails black, but he claimed it was simply not his style. Of course, you understood, but you still wanted him to do it, it was, after all, something you found incredibly attractive.

"Not really, no one offers what I need, you know? They all like that vanilla shit, with the aftercare and soft shit,"

"But you did that with me?" you asked confused but he just shook his head.

"Because it's you. You gave me what I needed. But anyways, your boy toy is here," he spoke as he noticed Grayson walk in. An angry look on his face as he caught a glimpse of your back and Vinnie’s face.

"Ughh, finally," you scoffed as your core throbbed, your mind suddenly imaging certain scenarios on how Grayson would take you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you felt his presence next to you, his cologne slapping you on the face.

"I came to pick you up and take you home," he said, no emotion laced with his voice, you mentally rolled your eyes.

Your hand reached up to Vincent's, intertwining your fingers with his before letting out a whine, "But we just started to have fun,"

"I don't care. We're leaving," he spoke before leaning down close to your ear, "You're gonna get it as soon as we get in the car,"

"Ughh fine. You're so boring. You should take a shot or two sometime," you dramatically sighed before letting go of Vinnie's hands and grabbing your phone and purse, "I'll see you another time V, love you, take care," you said, sending him a smirk in an angle that Grayson couldn't see.

"Love you too, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he waved you off as Grayson carefully dragged you out of the establishment. He had parked his car in an empty and abandoned parking lot, having a plan thought out for when he arrived at where you were at.

He opened the back door of his Tesla, before throwing you inside, making sure you wouldn't get hurt, but wanting the message that he was upset to get across, "You think you're funny? Acting like a whore, wearing a slutty outfit to go out with Vinnie? Teasing me all fucking month long, acting like a fucking bitch," he spoke as his fingers came in contact with your jaw, squeezing it in the most perfect way.

Never in his life did Grayson think he would call a woman a whore. But when you came along, you brought a Pandora's box with you. He wasn't sure degrading a female would get him laid, but you introduced it to him, at first it was weird, but he took a liking to it, only with you.

"I didn't do anything," you pouted against his hand, making his other hand squeeze your hip.

"Did I tell you to speak?"

"You asked," you scoffed, eyes widening as a burning sensation spread over your thigh, followed by a moan.

"Open," he muttered, tightening his grip on your jaw, making you open your mouth before he leaned down, doing something you thought Grayson Dolan would never do, "Swallow," he muttered after spitting in your mouth. You did what he said, no questions asked, and no ounce of hesitation in your body, "good girl," he whispered before moving down to between your legs.

His hands explored your legs before you felt a couple of cold things making you look down to find a couple of rings on his fingers, yet no nail polish.

"You wanna behave like a whore, I'll treat you like one," he smirked at your facial expression, he was loving every single second of what was happening, "Mouth of fingers? Never mind, you don't get to choose, don't you dare make a sound," he muttered before pulling down your underwear.

Your body slightly jumped and the long-awaited feeling of his fingers. You bit your lip, feeling so touched that just the slightest feeling of his two fingers spreading your arousal around, "Look at you, so desperate, and wet. It's pathetic," he chuckled making you shake your head before throwing it back as he slowly slipped a finger in, just one, feeling satisfied as you spread your legs and threw your head back, he added another one, and you felt out a whine, earning a thigh smack from him, "I said no sounds,"

He dipped his head down, just feeling the presence of his mouth near you pussy was enough to make you bite your lip, and hold back a moan as he pressed soft kissed on the inside of your legs, fingers wholly moving in and out of you, until he finally placed a soft kiss on your clit, and started moving his fingers faster.

You quickly moved your hand up to your lips, muffling any sound and moan that slipped out. The feeling of euphoria and ecstasy spread quickly over your body, and a knot started forming on your lower stomach at how good Grayson was eating you out and finger fucking you.

"Gray, Grays please," you started chanting his name, not being able to hold it back any longer, the amount of pressure building up was much more than what you could handle.

"You wanna cum for me Angel, Wanna be a good girl for daddy?" He teasingly asked, his fingers moving at a pace that you thought was impossible.

"Mhm, I do please. I'll be a good girl I promise,"

"Let it go, cum for me," as soon as the words slipped out, there was no holding back, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you let a pornographic like moan, squirting all over his face and making a mess in the back seat of his car, your vision had truly gone white, never feeling something as strong before, not that you minded, you loved every single second.

"Oh my God," was the only thing you managed to breathe out, finally opening your eyes after a few seconds, Grayson was above you, his white shirt having some wet patches, showing how good he truly made you feel.

"I don't think you should be saying his name right now," he smirked as you shook your head, "Not after this mess you made in my car, at least,"

"I know a perfect way to make up, but you know, it's still November so," you smirked, looking at your watch, the time being 11:51, he had nine more minutes.

"Really? How so?" He teased, picking you up as he sat down, placing you bare half on his black dress pants.

"To make you feel really fucking good, right here. In this car, and you can do anything you want to me," you smirked, palming him through his pants, his bulge was apparent, but you were running out of time. 11:55

"But it's only valid for today," you added, unblocking his belt before lifting yourself up to pull his pants down, You spit on your hand before moving it, just to make him harder and work him up a bit more.

"But you have to say yes,"

11:59

"Fuck just do it," he groaned before placing his hands on your hips, making sure to align himself before slamming you down on his dick.

12:00

"Look at you, couldn't even wait one more minute," you struggle to say as he bounced you up and down on his dick, loud groaning falling past his lips at how good you felt around him.

"Shut up,"

Please I am so sorry!!! This is so bad and gross, and I got carried away...I also wrote this in like an hour!! But I said I would do it so here we are!! Anyways yeah, if you made it here because you read it I love you!! And big thanks to @blazedgraysons for helping me and motivating me to write it, I love you bitch!!! 

[jeonandjoonie]

Just One Day

posted on wattpad and this tumblr only.

You have a crush on your boxing T.A. college au. Jungkook X Reader.

word count: ~10,900k

W: NONE

================================================

Kids.

You couldn’t believe that for your last semester in college you would have to take a physical education class. You still curse your advisor when you remember the day.

You were walking happily to your appointment prepared to turn in your graduation application only to be told that you were not set to graduate. Your previous advisor didn’t notice the unfulfilled requirement. You almost cried and immediately went to your apartment to search up any physical Ed classes that would satisfy the requirement.

Of course being so late in registering, all the basic classes such as Yoga, Gym, and Dance were filled. You looked over the list, even weight training had a waitlist of 5. You were beginning to feel hopeless as you saw Judo and Tennis having a waitlist as well. There must be an open one!!

And how much your heart delighted when you noticed a class that was full but had no waitlist! Your eyes immediately crossed over to the left to see what class it was.

Boxing.

Taken back, you pushed back the stress from clouding your mind. Thinking of having to not only work out but be punched down Sighing, you quickly clicked on the class to register accepting your doom. Another couple hundred dollars invested into your degree, taking a class you were not interested in.

With the start of the semesters you passed through all your classes easily already feeling like a master in your discipline. You walked happily from class to class. You were especially happy that your internship and student work study all fit perfectly within your schedule.

You plopped yourself onto your tiny single bed. In a few hours you’ll have to get ready for your first day of Boxing. 3-hour class, two times a week, it made you want to cry. Your classes started at 6 and it was past 4 when you got to your apartment, so you quickly went to your kitchen to eat. You wanted your food to be digested before class to prevent yourself from vomiting.

You settled for some leftover mango rice and smoked salmon that accumulated from days before. Neither were yours, but you and your three other roommates agreed that when food has been in the fridge for more than two days it’s a free for all.

"Hey, __" your roommate, literally roommate which you share your room with, patted your head as she passed you. "Do you want to do our nails and talk about our 5-year plans and then eat ice cream?" She shouted from your shared bedroom.

" Sorry, can’t!" You shouted back to her, "I got that boxing class tonight!" You continued to shout even though she was now in front of you. You wanted the whole world to hear your misery.

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" She responded leaning onto the counter

" Ugh. Please, it’s going to be such a waste of time. Punching people is one thing but having to let someone punch me sounds so annoying" you complained putting your dishes in the sink.

"Stop crying, I’m sure they won’t have you fight anyone. I bet it’ll just be like learning posture or something. It’ll probably just be the basics".

"True... Anyways do you have any clothes I can borrow real quick? I didn’t have time to buy any"

"Sure, What’s the dress code"

“I dunno, the guy just said casual and comfortable for the first day", you thought it over " just sweats, I have a t-shirt. Please!"

When you asked for sweats you didn’t think it was going to be an issue. Sweats are pretty much one size fits all. You should have known better as you looked at yourself in your floor length mirror. Minah's gray sweats were clinging to your butt and legs.

"Oh my god Minah, what is your size? a size negative zero, I feel like I’ll explode. Did you get this at the kids’ section".

"Shut up, those are the only ones I have…they kind of shrunk when I washed them" she mumbled the last part. You knew Minah was skinnier than you, but you didn’t expect it to be this much maybe just a size or two. "they don’t even look that bad, they fit really snug on me after the wash".

Seeing your disappointing stare, she quickly fusses over you. "Fine. Bend down, run, jump or do whatever boxers do. Let’s see how they look".

You jumped, kicked, and ran in place. You dropped it low a couple times to feel the strain on your thighs and butt.

"I mean…I guess they’re okay" you studied yourself again "you know what, it’s no big deal it’s like I’m wearing yoga pants"

Minah laughed "You’re so right! why are we even discussing this?"

You looked at her putting on a pout "they look like yoga pants, but they feel like they’re about to rip. Look, my pockets are sticking out!"

Finally getting annoyed with you, Minah sighed loudly throwing her hands up in a dramatic flair "Wear them, don’t wear them. Hurry up cause it.." she looks at her rose gold wrist watch with faux diamonds around the frame, the one you gifted her for Christmas. Yes, you are proud of your gift. "Oh my gosh, __ you need to go it's 5:50! Isn’t your class at 6?" Minah looked at you with wide eyes.

"What?!" you squeaked. You didn’t want to be late, you couldn’t given the fact that you were on the waitlist. You can’t give off a bad impression now. "Oh my…oh my gosh" you muttered to yourself quickly, slipping on a black t-shirt. You grabbed your bag and ran towards the front door to slip on your black shoes. Which was a struggle and you later realized it would have been easier and maybe faster to untie them and then put them on.

You reached out for the door handle only to have it hit you against your forehead.

"Oh my gosh" three voices chorused at the same time.

Sohee your other roommate gasped as she grabbed your arm to inspect your injury. However, you simply brushed her away as you were already late. "__, wait are you okay, I’m so sorry"

"It's fine, I’m good!” you yelled back as you ran the two blocks to your campus. only to getting slightly lost as you turned a right and not a left. You didn’t even have time to blame it on your possible concussion. Can you get a concussion? you don’t know. But you almost threw up with nerves when you realized you made the wrong turn.

You need to get into this class. Your graduation depended on it. Although you’re sure they will squeeze you in when they realize you’re a senior, you still want to be in good standing with the instructor if you planned on slacking off in class.

Reaching the gymnasium doors, you tried to control your breathing. You haven’t run this fast since you had to run miles in middle school. You felt dizzy and tried hard not to think about your burning calves.

Inside looked nothing like you thought it would. You imagined dark lights, punching bags, and maybe some weights. However, there were only large mats laid out on the floor. A small group of students seated in front of what you figured is the instructor. You quickly ducked your head trying to hide yourself as you sat down in the back. There were two other people standing next to him wearing head gear and strapping on boxing gloves.

"And who is the new intruder?" the instructor, Mr. Kang or Mino, questioned out loud.

You shyly smiled (or what you thought was a cute shy smile) when in reality you looked like a nervous wreck, trying to hide the fact that your legs were burning and you were breathing too hard. Hmm? was that sweat running down your neck.

"I’m ___, I should be on the waitlist"

Mino made a huge show of flipping the pages of his clipboard. "Ah yes __, I see you here. Well if you still want this class you’re in luck because three people dropped out this morning"

Even though you were practically hyper venting in your seat and you're pretty sure the sweatpants were cutting your circulation. You felt such a relief wash over you.

“Just don’t make a habit out of being late, 25 minutes is unacceptable, 5 more and I would have kicked you out. Next time make sure to email me beforehand"

If you didn’t look like a nervous wreck before, you sure did now. You nodded your head too afraid to speak from the embarrassment.

"Come get your syllabus after class, we’ve already gone over it”, he looked around “Everyone this is why I stress that you should attend every class and be here on time, every moment is important" he clapped his hands, “now for the fun part: the demonstration”. He turned towards the two people standing at his side, “like I said these are two of my excellent students who are in boxing III, they volunteered their time to be here and help me teach this course. so please give them the same respect you will give me" he turned towards them once more giving them a nod as a sign to begin. The two guys started to face each other and sway around.

"These are more advanced moves, we won’t be learning these in this course but I want you to see..."

The instructor's voice drifted off as you watched the two guys start to move and jab at each other. They were fast and moving so quick on their feet. Your eyes lingered on to their legs. Interesting…very interesting. With these types of demonstrations maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad.

The two guys continued to "punch" each other bouncing in their spot. "Whoos" can be heard from the students around you who knew what was happening. It did look like the one in all black was beating the one in a blue shirt. The guy in blue was larger than the other which says a lot since they both look fit.

You were startled out of analyzing as Mino clapped his hands, "Okay. Okay, guys that’s enough thank you".

He applauded and everyone followed along. As did you, poking your head in between the seated bodies in front of you trying to get a better look of the guys. The guy in all black had tattoos on his hand and arm. The one in blue had a tattoo running up his neck. You were curious to see how it would spread out on his body. When he fully took off his head gear, wow….

Oh….

Wow…

You were amazed. These guys are so handsome. They are the straight definition of charming. You almost wanted to reprimand him for risking his stunning features. He gave a boxy smile "Hi, everyone my name is Taehyung".

“Hi Taehyung” a couple of aspiring class clowns responded back.

"Hi, I’m Jungkook" the voice next to him said.

Your eyes turned to him. The one in all black. To say your heart stopped would be an understatement because you are sure your brain cells did to. You froze in your spot, zoning in on his pretty face. Noticing the way his eyes crinkle despite his attempt to look serious. The charm and absolute power that oozed out of him was no intimidation to you, for your newfound adoration for his aura and beauty captivated you more. So much that you are willing to freeze in the spot if it resulted in you taking him in.

You continued to stare at Jungkook. This time zoning in on his lips, not yet picking up on his squinted eyes trying to meet yours for he felt you blunt stare and felt slightly amused. Jungkook, what a guy, what a man, what a-

“Okay class, let’s begin some basic moves everybody! Get to the mats".

Upon hearing more chatter and the squeaks of shoes, like on autopilot your body stood up. You were out of your trance once you realized you were staring at the back of Jungkook's neck. You quickly got into a spot in the back corner wanting a place where no one will see if you happened to rip your sweats or see your lame attempt at following along. You tried to make sure you have a view on that Jungkook guy, but blocking your view was a couple other people. You didn’t even have the privilege of seeing his calf. You decided to just admit defeat and listen to Mino. The class began with basic exercises that seemed even more difficult than the jumping jacks and squats you did in your room earlier.

"Hey are you alright?". You jumped back upon hearing a voice at your side, "Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, are you good?"

It was Taehyung.

"Huh, wha- why?.. no, no I’m good"

"Okay it just seemed like you were struggling a bit”

"No I’m fine. Everything is fine…haha" you said as you lunged your leg forward like everyone else did to show him you were right on track. Can he notice the agony on your face that was caused by the ridiculous sweats?

“How about your forehead?” he asked, pointing to his own, upon seeing the confusion in your eyes.

“OH” you exclaimed a little too loudly, placing a hand on your forehead.

Taehyung gave you a short smile and a short nod as he jogged up to his spot in front of your section.

How considerate. As the exercises began you were now aware of Taehyung eyes. He tried to act like he was casually glancing at you and not keeping an eye on you. You would love to say it was due to that fact that he thought you were cute, but you knew it was because of the sweat that now adorned your face and the puffs that escaped your mouth. You haven’t exercised properly in ages.

As you continued your moves you were beginning to feel itchiness from the band around your ankles. You lifted the band as much as you can, only to be horrified with the deep red marks imprinted around your ankles. You looked up in shock meeting Taehyung's eyes. He immediately rushed to your side .

“Are you crazy?” He asks you with wide eyes “You need to go change”

“I’m okay” you tried keeping your voice hushed as to contour Taehyung's loud exclamation that had people around you turning their heads.

“No, this is bad,” Taehyung said, trying to find Mino to gain his attention.

“No, No, I’m fine” you hiss at Taehyung “Go away”.

Taehyung ignores you as he stands at high alert waiting for Mino to come to your side. You noticed Jungkook trailing behind him.

As the two men approached, Taehyung simply pointed at your ankles which were lamely covered by your hands.

Jungkook rushes to your side and tries to lift your sweats to see the damage done. If you weren’t so mortified by the attention given by everyone in the class, you would have swooned at his proximity.

“I’m fine” you mumble.

“No,” Mino says, meeting Jungkook’s eye “you should go home. Class is almost finished anyways”.

Feeling defeated your get up to your feet keeping your eyes on the ground. Being this close to them you realized how small you are. You hid behind Jungkook’s body to hide from your class's attention.

“I’m okay” you try to reason with Mino, “just a little tight” you tried to laugh.

“Miss?”

“__”

“___” Mino repeated, “I’m responsible for you in this class and I won’t allow for any injury no matter how small or big. Please, you're excused to go home”.

Slumping your shoulders and keeping your head to the ground you sighed, “Okay”.

In any other situation you would have taken this as a fortunate luxury, a blessing in disguise, but since Jungkook was witness to this (and Taehyung) you felt embarrassed. You didn’t want them to think of you as dumb. I mean you are leaving a boxing class early due to an injury caused by your tight sweats.

“and ___,” he called out to you as you made your way to the door ,”please come to class on time and be properly dressed”.

Yeah, this had to be one of the dumbest moments in your life.

You grumbled your way to your second class of boxing. After the first class, you went home and cried to your roommates about how embarrassing it was. Although you didn’t have time to wallow in your embarrassment due to the difficulty of peeling off the sweats. The girls helped you lather ointment on your red marks. The stinging and itchiness can now be felt with the cool air hitting your skin. You and Minah were scolded by Tara, your other roommate, for putting yourself in danger in “cutting off your damn ankles!”. You tried to protest only to be hushed by Sohee. With the way things were that night it would seem like you and Minah were the kids to your mothers Tara and Sohee. So, to fit into your new role you stuck out your tongue at both of their backs as they left your room and Minah tried to suppress her giggles.

You really didn’t want to go to the next class, but that degree was on the line. What would be your excuse? That you were publicly embarrassed in front of your class?

This time around you made sure to buy some sweats and cute shiny shorts. You will be prepared. Well not that prepared, as you slipped on the shorts you noticed how you didn’t even shave. So, you had to go back to the black sweats you brought.

To your massive egos surprise, no one seemed to care or remember about you. You made sure to arrive 10 minutes early and found yourself with three other early birds. Not even Mino or his helpers were here. You felt a little ridiculous but it’s better than being late. So, you sat against the wall scrolling through your phone waiting for the time to pass. It was 4 minutes before class when the chatter in the gym began to get louder. You looked up to see that everyone was here including your instructor. You remembered that you had to get the syllabus but now he was surrounded by eager students talking about God knows what. You are aimlessly glancing around trying to find a chance where your instructor could be alone. You slowly made your way closer to the group of seated students. You spotted Jungkook talking to Taehyung. They were also getting crowded by students. You watched how Jungkook walked over to the mats with one of the students and began to demonstrate something with his feet. Your guessing it’s his feet with how everyone is staring at his feet and he keeps looking down as he talks. You are admiring the way he moves his pretty lips as he talks when your vision of him is once again blocked by somebody. A boxy smile. A handsome smile. Taehyung.

You watch him walk over to you with a smile on his face as he waves a sheet of paper in his right hand.

“You need this” he states handing you the class syllabus.

“Yes. Thank you” you reach out for the paper. Your eyes skimmed through the paper making mental notes of the exam dates and random quizzes.

To your surprise you felt Taehyung still standing next to you. Feeling shy all of a sudden you focused more on the text.

“So… why boxing?” he suddenly asks with a gleam in his eye. He stared at you waiting for an answer.

“Why not?” you challenge him, “am I not boxing material?”

“I never said that” Taehyung defends himself, “just trying to make conversation to avoid having to…” he nudges back to where all the students are surrounding Jungkook.

You stop yourself from snorting, “I need it to graduate”

“Oh, you’re a senior?” he asks with interest.

“Yup, with a physical requirement I didn’t know I needed till the last minute”.

“So, this was the only option” Taehyung looks at you with pity understanding the lack of enthusiasm in your voice as you tell him your sad tale.

“It’ll be fun” he says with a smile” just look like you're trying and you’ll pass”.

You shrug and give him a smile. He was nice.

“Listen you don’t have to try hard and with everyone else you’ll be average. Trust me, this is my second year helping the beginner’s course. I’ve seen worse. A lot of freshmen who are over their heads”.

You laughed at that “It’s cute though, right?” you joked with him.

“Yeah, it’s cute, until they hurt themselves. All fired up kids,” Taehyung thought for a moment,

“actually it's embarrassed freshmen and then fired up second years that think they matured overnight or something”

You laughed at his analogy, remembering the cockiness that came from some of your classmates of sophomore year.

“You’re so right” you said, clapping your hands laughing.

Taehyung laughed along with you, “honestly though I wouldn’t mind going back. To be a bit naïve. Thinking of graduating makes me nervous”

“aww” you cooed at him reaching over to pat his arm.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, this time at you.

“What are your plans?” you ask him.

“Art Courier”

“Art” you ask surprise.

“Yea” he smiles, “I love it. I’m also volunteering at an art gallery downtown. Its local art, it’s nice”

“So why are you nervous?”

He looks at you, “Aren’t you?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I got an internship out of town. I’m hoping to stay there for a short while. Then I want to come back to Kim Corp.”

He smiles at you, “Those are big plans”.

“Yeah… but yeah, I guess I’m nervous but like an exciting kind” you tilt your head, “like butterflies or dragonflies in my stomach”

“Dragon flies? that’s new” he chuckles, “mine are like crashing waves so sometimes it gets nauseating”, he pouts slightly thinking hard, “it’s exciting”. He sighs, “the truth is I’m applying for a master's and I just turned in my last application, so it’s this waiting period”.

“Ahhh, I see” you pat his shoulder once more giving him a smile, “good luck!”

Taehyung smiles back at you turning his full body to face you “thanks, you too”.

“Taehyung!”

Taehyung's name being called interrupted your mutual understanding of senior nervousness and friendship that was forming between the two of you. You lifted your head to the voice that interrupted such a sweet moment. Your eyes were ready to squint at the rude person, but they only softened upon finding the irritated face of Jungkook.

“Oops, got to go, seems like those fired up sophomores are getting to him” Taehyung whispers to you before he jogs up to a furrowed brow Jungkook who is still surrounded by eagerly waiting students. You wait for him to possibly shift his glance towards you. Readying a reassuring and “haha, yikes'' face to show him. However, he kept his gaze locked on Taehyung till he arrived at his side. You pout as you give up and stuff your syllabus into your bag.

Later that evening while the class was practicing a two step footwork you notice Jungkook teaching a student a few rows ahead of you. You watch carefully as he slowly makes his way down to your back corner. Is this your time? The moment in which you have him all alo-on-ne, to have a “private conversation" with him. You hoped. Jungkook was examining the student in front of you. You were next. You lowered your head focusing on your feet. You tried to remain calm even though the anticipation of talking to him was weighing down on you. You stole a quick glance at his feet, they were headed towards you. Here it goes.

“Hey Jungkook!”

Oh my gosh.

“Jungkook, Am I doing it right?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

You lifted your head to see Jungkook making his way to the kid next to you. There Jungkook goes helping those eager hogging students that take any second with Jungkook away from you. Should you also feign ignorance to the movements in class? Even though you’re sure you probably really do need the extra attention. However, those kids just want to be praised by the “cool" Jungkook. You just want to talk to him.

The following weeks had no progress both with your boxing and with Jungkook. Thankfully your friendship with Taehyung grew as you both would be catching up with each other before classes. And you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Jungkook try to make his way over to you guys only to be stopped by some over achievers. You once asked Taehyung why he doesn’t teach the kids only for him to say he doesn’t need the experience unlike Jungkook who is majoring in Exercise Science (and a minor in art, which is where they meet and become friends). You only huffed in response and told him to give him a break. Taehyung just shrugged and went back on his phone. The talks with him were fine. Taehyung had good humor and amazing story telling skills, once in a while he would reveal subtle information about Jungkook. You would try to slyly ask him questions about Jungkook. You found yourself knowing a little about him every day.

One of the most amazing days though was when you were coming out of the bathroom after class and you overheard Taehyung’s unforgettable laugh and Jungkook’s -surprising- high pitched laughter. You walked slowly towards the divine laughter. You had to hide yourself behind a pillar when you saw them stop before an elevator.

“Those sophomores are so competitive! Hmmm… It reminds me of someone” Taehyung says jokingly, tapping his finger on his chin.

Jungkook shoves him playfully.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding” Taehyung raises his hands in defeat before Jungkook could put him into a headlock. Their rough playing is stopped with the "ding" sound of the elevator doors.

The "ding" also reminds you of what you were doing: hiding behind a pillar like a loser and overheating these guys. At this point it was odd since you were actually friends with one of them. I mean you did have Taehyung’s number and he would occasionally text you to tell you when he (or Jungkook) would not be in class.

You slowly inched your foot, not trying to make noise. You were ready to leave but halted when you heard Jungkook’s voice as they headed inside the elevator.

“So, what did you and __ talk about this time?”

HUH

Did he?

“Oh, I told her about your obsession with banana milk”

“Taehyung!”

Is all you heard before the doors closed.

Okay… what was that about?

Did they talk about you?

Was this an ongoing thing? Taehyung never told you about Jungkook’s supposed obsession with banana milk (cute by the way). Does this mean anything?

You groan as you make your way back to your apartment. Your head was spinning Did he…or did he not? Or did Taehyung just tell him once about all your “interesting” conversations that

Jungkook just routinely started asking him about it?

Your heart thumped at all the possibilities.

Whatever the reason it seemed he had an okay opinion about you. Right? I mean the best outcome you can hope is to be his friend because from what you see in class, and what you’ve heard from Taehyung, Jungkook does seem like a cool and genuine guy. And you’re not doing him (or Taehyung) any justice by eavesdropping on their conversations and following them. At that moment you decided to stop your shy approach and borderline creepy behavior towards him. You were an adult for goodness sake not a love-struck teen. You were going to be more direct!

Your heart raced miles at your final decision.

The next couple of days you began your new resolution by approaching Jungkook first. Your conversations weren’t as complex nor were they as comfortable as with Taehyung. A light tension always seemed to linger as if you both had your own elephants roaming around the room. You ignored it as much as you could. You were grateful for when Taehyung was around to break the tension. This would lead to the three of you to develop a more easy-going conversation. You were just happy that you were able to learn things about Jungkook directly and not through a second source.

All this progress seemed to have gone down the drain one night when you were practicing a new defensive pose. Jungkook came up to you to slightly adjust your arms into the proper distance from your face and body. He smiles afterwards, urging you to feel the difference. You proudly do your complete pose and suppress a giggle when his smile widens. He’s so mesmerizing. Mino was out of the gymnasium, quickly running off saying he need to go to his office. So, you took this opportunity to have Jungkook all to yourself. You were less reserved around him now and were ready to break some more of the barriers between you two. It starts with you two laughing over Taehyung's obvious lie of pretending to be busy. He’s looking over some papers on the clipboard at the front of the matts. You wanted to see Jungkook laugh again as he jokingly comments on the students in front of Taehyung who are trying to get his attention.

“It’s all these fired up Sophomores” you began, hushing your voice as if telling him a secret.

“they’re so competitive and eager to please as if they are being paid to be here. All these little kids will soon face the real world and realize that no one cares”.

Jungkook nervously places his hand behind his neck, “Some of them have potential...”, he hesitantly mutters.

You snort, “potential or not. All little kids, sorry, sophomores are the same. They are all so overly passionate. I feel bad for them once they realize that there will always be someone better, prettier, and bigger than them out there. Haven’t we learned that by now?”.

You turn to Jungkook upon seeing his straight face. You must admit it wasn’t one of your best attempts of comadeire, but the way he was acting seemed like you offended his mother. You were about to apologize and voice your concern when Jungkook nervously laughs.

“Yeah, well…” He chuckles again defeatedly. “…there’s always someone better…”.

“Jungko-“

“I see you have all been working diligently as I was gone! Thank you! As a reward I think we should run a few laps around the gym”.

Jungkook skedaddles away at the voice of Mino. You’re left confused, pondering over your conversation. Can he not stand unfunny people? Were you really that bad? Did he find you to be some bitter old bully?

Once the class is over you jog up to Taehyung and Jungkook before they could get onto the elevators.

You wanted to make sure you were good with Jungkook. You knew you would be up all weekend trying to figure out what went wrong. You know it was something you said. Did he not like your joke? were you being a bit too mean? You didn’t mean it too much. It was just something Taehyung always joked about, so you thought it would be okay to do so as well. Making your way up to them you say the first thing that comes to your mind

“Hey, are you guys going to the Senior Party?” This senior party was for seniors only (unless you were a plus one) hosted by all the frats of school. They all come together to make a huge block party that is honestly favored upon by many and has everyone going.

“hmm not sure” Taehyung says, “Maybe, I’m kind of over frat parties”.

“Yeah…, but this IS the last Ho-rah”. Taehyung shrugs at your response.

“How about you?” you turn to face Jungkook making sure to make eye contact, afraid he’ll look away and avoid you as he has done for the rest of the class period.

Jungkook looks you straight on furrowing his eyebrows, “Why should I go?” he asks almost coldly.

“Oh” okay he hates me, you thought to yourself. “Well, I mean everyone usually goes”, you respond to him with a much more quitter voice now that all your confidence has disappeared.

“It’s only for seniors. I’m a Sophomore”.

Sophomore.

WHAT!?

Your mouth fell agape. And you only half registered Taehyung laughter as he smacks your back,

“____, didn’t you know Jungkook is a baby”.

You knew he was baby. You didn’t realize he was a baby.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Taehyung's comment.

“I didn’t...I-I’ You stuttered “ Aren’t you in the advanced class and have all these achievements and- and”.

“Yeah” Jungkook sourly smirks “I guess I’m just like all those overly passionate kids”.

Taehyung laughs as if not catching the tone in Jungkook’s voice or the nervous energy you are sure that can be detected from miles away.

“He’s the king of the sophomores! Why do you think they are always crowding him like he’s their hero”.

“Right…” you look down on the floor. You didn’t offend his mother, you offended him. You’ve insulted him.

“Okay, well I’ll see you guys in the next class, Bye” you turn fast around and start speed walking home. You only faintly catch Taehyung’s boisterous “Bye!”.

This all makes sense, the students crowing him like he’s a king, him being insulted by your unfunny comment, Taehyung always picking on him. But the thing is that Taehyung CAN pick on him because they are friends, he’s teasing him. You are not friends with him. You have no right to talk to him or joke with him like that. Your stress levels rise because you never want to hurt someone, much less intentionally. He probably thinks you’re some big bully and know it all. Imagine what he has told Taehyung by now. What if you get shunned by both of them? This is so embarrassing, and you feel awful. You shouldn’t have run away. You should have confronted Jungkook and apologized to him. You should have cleared the air. But at that moment you were so confused and surprised your head was everywhere. Forget dating Jungkook he probably wouldn’t even want to be friends with you anymore.

All of your woes were heard by your three roommates on your living room floor. Picking at your blue fuzzy carpet you retold them everything. They first got mad at you for not telling them about these two good looking guys in your class and then they got even more mad at you for making a

lame joke that insulted Jungkook and then running away.

“You need to talk to him ___”

“You said: ‘Overly passionate sophomores, little kids’. Who even talks like that?”.

Taehyung does you want to point out but instead remain quiet as they continue their criticism and advice.

“Yeah, talk to him! Don’t even think about how you insulted the poor guy!”

“or how you said an odd and unfunny joke”

You never thought about dating young guys. You were always into the older type. You ask your friends about what you should do. They give you the advice you already knew inside your heart. Talk to him, apologize, and go for it.

You remembered that Jungkook is sporty and artsy. The Art building was your first stop. You don’t know his schedule and frankly you don’t want to know it. It would make you feel like a total creep if you knew it and purposely went looking for him. You didn’t want to repeat the ugly feeling you felt after the eavesdropping incident at the elevators. Instead you conceded with a coincidence. This was less guilty.

You entered the Student museum and browsed the artwork. You were so excited to see one of Taehyung’s art pieces hanging in display that you quickly took a photo of it and texted it to him. You momentarily forgot about what had happened. You hesitated to look at your phone after feeling its vibrations indicating Taehyung had replied. You quickly found the nearest restroom which wasn’t easy given you’ve never been inside this building. You entered a stall and opened the text. You were greeted with a “You should have told me you were going to be there I just left Campus” accompanied with two crying emojis. You felt a sigh of relief, as if you can breathe again. Taehyung is not mad at you. You replied with compliments and several hearts that Taehyung gleefully returned.

Your mornings were spent waiting in between classes in the student lounge, in the Art building, and walking laps around the Sport’s building and Gymnasium. You even peeked at the pool only to be flashed with multiple water polo swimmers climbing out of the pool. You blushed running away after making eye contact with the swimming coach. During the night when you had boxing, everything seemed like the beginning of the semester. You would talk with Taehyung as you always would but Jungkook…he was different. He would acknowledge you and would occasionally join you and Taehyung, but he wouldn’t be alone with you anymore. If he ever was he would just stay with you in silence. It would be such a peaceful quietness if you weren’t so confused and nervous on what his opinion of you was. You wanted to apologize to him, but he became much more competitive and almost aggressive during demonstrations. You felt this new form of intimidation towards him. Was he trying to send you a message? No, of course not. It was probably just finals. Most people were on edge during this time.

In the last month of the semester you coincidently found out (thanks to the students in class) that Jungkook has a drawing class 30 minutes after your last class on Friday. With this new information you made plans to sprint over to the Art building to meet Jungkook.

You were just walking down the hall of your building when you spotted… Jungkook?

Interesting.

Is this fate?

This is the time.

He stops next to a class door and leans against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone. You notice then his huge army backpack. For boxing class, he brings a big black duffle bag. This backpack caught you for surprise. You stopped in your tracks staring at the backpack because you’ve seen it before. Plenty of times. In the library, the parking lot, the convenience store in front of the east campus. You’ve sometimes seen it by just passing by. The bag was so big and almost ridiculous that you’re sure most of the student body knows of it. To think that the bag belonged to Jungkook. You’ve never bothered to look at the owner and when you did, they were either far away, at an angle in which you can’t see them, or they had a bucket hat or hoodie over their face. All this time it was Jungkook. To think if you’ve looked or spoken to the person you would have known Jungkook way sooner. All this wasted time.

Is this the coincidence you were dreaming of? Does any of it mean anything? At this point you don’t care. You’re going to talk to Jungkook! Whatever opportunity that is presented to you, you are going to take. You’re almost close to Jungkook, who doesn’t notice you as he’s immersed on his phone, when the classroom door opens with pouring students. You're slightly worried he’s going to leave as the students start obscuring your clear view of him. However, what you don’t miss is the way a pretty girl stops in front of him. He looks up to her and smiles shyly. You can’t really see her face at this angle. You only notice the way Jungkook takes her books from her and follows behind her as she walks to the opposite direction from you.

You felt like you were in a movie. You know the type when the main character is standing in one place and all around her there’s blurs of people moving about. The screen is colored gray and there's sad music playing as you're left there in a daze.

O-kay.

So.

Jungkook has a …he has a… (you can’t’ say it).

Jungkook is-what?

Dating? Has a girl? Not available? Hmmm, maybe he’s not interested in you.

Walking back to your apartment so many questions and conclusions flow around in your head.

Did you ever stop and think he maybe just wasn’t into you? Like what if he just didn’t like you? And not in a bad way. He just doesn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with you. And here you were thinking he was lucky you were even considering a younger guy like him. Please. Who do you think you are? You’ve acted so arrogant and bitter around him you’re surprised someone as sweet as Taehyung and Jungkook even talks to you.

Reaching your apartment and heading straight to the shower, because the shower is where you make all your final resolutions and get all your ideas, you’ve come to the resolution that you need to stop moping around in class. Second, you like Jungkook, like-like. Third, you are heart broken. And lastly, maybe it’s just not meant to be.

Sometimes things can be blessings in disguises.

You cried in the shower.

Your beautiful roommates were once again there to support you! They even surprised you that weekend by having a little party amongst you and your closest friends. Irene, Maria, Seokjin, Yoongi, and even Mr. Busy Chef Seokjin came along. It was fun and you got drunk. You are going to be okay. You are going to forget Jungkook. It’s the end of the semester anyway and you are leaving town after graduation. It’s for the best.

Right?

Wrong.

Wrong on all parts. You very much like Jungkook. It was confirmed the next time you went to boxing class when your heart didn’t stop thumping. And wrong because you aren’t going to let it go. You felt ridiculous and pretty whore-ish when you still found yourself smiling at him (and did you coyly laugh at his joke just now?) even after knowing he has a girlfriend/ partner/dating/something. (A voice in your head was whispering into your heart that nothing is confirmed yet).

“Jungkook”, you called out his name after the announcements in class. You ran to him and staked your claim on him before anyone else can take him away from you, “Jungkook, can you help me with the exercise from last class, please?”.

He agreed. You walked behind him as he was already heading to your claimed corner. You noticed the disappointed faces of some of your classmates. Taehyung also had a confused face on as he was heading your way for you two to possibly gossip at your corner.

Jungkook helped you with your placements and speed. It was honestly helpful even if you did laugh a bit too loudly or moved in a way you hoped was sensual. At one point you ran out of things to hold him back with, so you must admit defeat and let him go. You smiled at him wildly as he moved to the next student. It was the last month, it wasn’t going to lead anywhere anyways. Which is why you’re trying your best. You were going to see him, talk to him, simply be by him because you’re probably never going to see him again after this.

You connect eyes with Taehyung as he’s walking directly to you. You both held a staring contest till he reached your side. He squints at you. You made a face of a “what”.

He coughed, “So…uhh…you like Jungkook or...?”

You choked on your spit. Were you that obvious?

“Huh? No. What? N-why?”

Taehyung looks at you, “ No reason, just asking.”

He slowly inches away clearly trying to make you less nervous. So, you force your body to relax and just laugh at his antics.

The rest of the class period Taehyung kept sending you looks or raising his eyebrows. You were nervous but soon started to become defensive. You would occasionally mouth “What” at him. Until at the end of class, he finally walked up behind you and whispered “Jungkook”. You jumped back in surprise at his deep voice and most importantly at the name of the owner of your heart.

“Taehyung!” you yelled at him. He laughed, only to stop when Jungkook joins you two. You blushed again and started rubbing your arm afraid Taehyung would tease you again. You all went to gather your things and headed towards the exit to leave class. Taehyung taps your arm to grab your attention. He made the motion of sealing and locking his lips, making it even more noticeable! Your eyes averted to Jungkook only to feel a wave of relief at seeing him typing away at his phone. Thank God.

You give him a face. He chuckles at you.

“Bye__” he said walking away. You rolled your eyes.

“Bye __” Jungkook said with his sweet melodic voice. You smiled at him.

It was the night of the Senior Party and you were ready to forget all about the cute guy in your boxing class. No, not Taehyung but Jungkook. Since you found out about his girlfriend you’ve tried hard to rewire your brain to think of him only as a friend. It was easy because he was such a gentle person. He was kind and funny and so very ambitious. You’ve grown to admire him in many ways. You were happy at where your relationship was (even though you would still like to be involved with him…*cough*romantically….). You weren’t going to be no homewrecker even if it pains your heart to see him smile or see him ruffle his bouncy hair.

Who are you kidding? You are in love with him.

However tonight you are going to forget about him. Tonight was about finally graduating and having a fun night with your friends. You, your roommates and other friends all meet up at a local restaurant before the party. It was fun there stuffing your faces and emptying your glasses, you almost forgot about the party. So, before the buzz faded away you all slipped into an uber off to the streets of the Frats and Sororities that are hosting the party. You were sad that Taehyung wasn’t going to be there. You wanted to introduce him to your friends. A few months ago, he told you he wasn’t going to go and instead booked a trip up North to go camping with his friends Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok. Friends who were equally as handsome you thought to yourself last night as you scrolled through his Instagram feed and viewed his story. You should’ve accepted his invite when he jokingly asked you to tag along. Maybe then you would move on from…him.

With your short skirts, dresses and skinny jeans you all swayed into the blockparty-eque event. The music was loud and there were so many people dancing and running around.

“This is practically a carnival, we're only missing the rides” Sohee shouts over the music.

“Lets just go to the main house” you yell back at them.

You all walk the short distance to the largest house in the block, the main source of the party where the DJ, drinks and food is located. Inside the house was empty of furniture leaving every room as a makeshift dance platform.

“This looks complicated!” Sohee complains furrowing her eyebrows “Where do we even begin”

“Lets just look around!” Taeyeon excitedly states turning her head around. You were prepared to see her make a 360 turn. She was Minah's friend who you were surprised to see come to the party. She was a Junior and it wasn’t until the girls told you that night that plus ones were allowed regardless of their year so long as they are students at the University. If you would’ve known you would have “jokingly” invited Jungkook.

After scoping out the house, your group ended up stealing a bag of chips and red cups of lemon soda and vodka. You decided to go to the house next door which belonged to a sorority. (“Maybe they’ll have better drinks” Minah complained).

Entering the house was like a new world, the lights were off and the music was not blaring. It seemed more chill. You walked deeper into the house that had a great atmosphere. Upon entering the kitchen you see the island decked out in different snacks and even mini cupcakes. There is flavored beers and a variety of vodkas, tequilas, juices, and soda. You’ve all shared glances with smiles in your faces. This is your place. You've all grabbed your drinks and you managed to fit two mini cupcakes in your hands before you made your way into the main living room, which like the frat house, was bare of any furnishing. Leaning against the wall with Minah who grabbed cotton candy you sipped on your drinks as you watched the others invade the dance floor.

“You think this was supposed to be a private party?” She asks cutting off a chunk of her cotton candy to feed you.

You thought for a second letting the candy melt in your mouth.

“No,” you told her, meeting her eye. You both laughed. “It would be really stupid if it was, I mean it is the Senior Party thing”.

“Yeah but what if it is and they kick us out”.

You shrugged “Whatever were gone in two weeks anyways. Besides it's on them for hosting it on the same night”.

“I don’t know” Minah continued out with her cotton candy slipping her drink in between each bite. You weren’t sure if she was drunk and just saying something or was actually concerned. You peered your eyes on her face as if to see her better. She was zoned out.

Rolling your eyes you start to look around trying to see your dancing group of friends to join them. You were done with your cupcakes and were ready to drag yourself to them. You thought you saw the Blue sparkle of Tara’s dress. You focused more on the spot only to see these blue sparkles wearing Tara seeming to be dancing or should I say “hugging” someone.

"Oh my gosh, ! LOOK LOOK!” you said slapping Minahs arm.

“What?", she said, trying to catch what you're looking at.

“Tara! She's got herself-“ Your words died in your mouth. For as your eyes traced along this person dress they were meant with a head that did not belong to Tara. First, poor Tara who has the same dress as someone in this room. Second, this person is none other then that girl that Jungkook was with. Your mouth was stood agape for even if your heart broken at the reminder of that girl and the fact that Jungkook was not yours. Your heartbreak and slight jealousy was soon replaced with confusion and then anger. Isn’t this Jungkook's girlfriend? What is she doing grinding on someone who is not Jungkook? No, this guy was not him because you know this guy! He's the famous school pianist whose faces are plastered all over the music building and concert highlights. Min Yoongi. What is she doing? So because Yoongi is a school celeb she's just going to do Jungkook wrong like that. Pretty Jungkook, who smiled at her with a hopeful look in his eyes and carried her books around like some servant. Is your poor baby being played? How dare she? Does she not realize how blessed she is?

“Minah”, you hand her your drink, “wait here”.

You don’t bother for her response and only hear a “what?”

You don’t have time to fill her in about this snake because your adrenaline is pumping in. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's your devotion towards Jungkook. All in the name of love. And if you're not going to be kicked out because it's a private party, you'll probably be kicked out for fighting. You didn’t take boxing for nothing.

Okay…

Maybe not. You're not sure what you're doing and even though you're angry and feel like you need to regain Jungkook's honor, you do have the same part of your brain working and yelling at you to turn back. What the hell do you think you are doing? And who the hell do you even think you are?

You could be on your way to making a complete fool of yourself. But no, you will do anything for Jungkook. Even if it turns out this person is Jungkook's girlfriend's twin and you reveal yourself to be a complete stalker and weirdo.

Your steps seem to move slowly and your skin burning hot from your anger now turns to anxiety. But it was like you couldn’t stop as you neared yourself to her. If you couldn’t confess to Jungkook this was an alternative outlet. By protecting his dignity.

Gosh, is it hot or are you just sweating?

And like a miracle sent from heaven you felt a cold hand wrap itself around your arm halting you in your steps. You tuned your head to see… JUNGKOOK?

“___” he says almost relieved.

You're confused and agaped. You're so caught off guard that you don’t manage to hide your opening mouth.

“Hey” he says softly, almost whispering. He quickly removes his hand around your arm.

His voice brings you back to reality. He always grounds you and neutralizes the nerves in your body. All by being near Jungkook's smiling face.

His smiling face that will soon turn bad. Your stress increases. Your eyes jump from his face to his girlfriend who is still dancing on Yoongi. Jungkook follows your eyes as he notices the stress evident on your face. What's wrong? Jungkook slightly steps in front of you as if to shield you from whatever your eyes keep returning to.

You reach out your hand trying to stop Jungkook from seeing the scene of his girlfriend dancing with another guy, but it's too late. Jungkook is staring ahead for a couple seconds.

Jungkook looks around trying to see what is catching your attention. He catches the sight of his cousin dancing on some guy. Putting a childish face on when she turns her head over to make out with him. Jungkook turns back to you with concern on his face at your still evident distress.

You watch as Jungkook quickly turns around. You see his concerned eyes and frowned lips. No, not to Jungkook. This won't happen to him, you wont allow it. Regaining your energy to confront this snake you move closer to him

“I’m sorry”

“So you want a drink?”

Is he trying to change the subject? Maybe they just broke up and you just reopened his wound.

You give him a smile of sympathy and pull him in for a hug. Yes, you were being forward but you are proud to admit that you didn’t hug him with any malicious or secretive motive. You just care for him so much that you want him to always be happy. You don’t know what happened between him and his girlfriend but you want him to know that he has you. That it is okay.

Jungkook stills in your embrace. You hug him tighter and are happy to finally feel him relax into your hug wrapping his arms around your lower body.

Jungkook is surprised and perhaps dreaming. When you jumped into his embrace he almost didn't know what he did to earn this. Your perfume was swaying in his brain until he saw the teasing expression on his cousin's face.

She winked at him, which caused his cheeks to heat up. So he quickly pulls away from you and coughs.

“So uhh, no drink?” he asks once more unsure of what to say.

You saw his blushing face, maybe you did too much but you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing when you heard a loud laugh at your side. You turn and sure enough see her laughing with the guy.

You step closer to Jungkook so you could whisper slowly to him, "Did you guys break up?”

Jungkook tilts his head in confusion but before he can continue you stop him.

“Its okay you don’t have to tell me, I’m sorry”

“__what are you sorry for?”

You nod your head towards her who continues to dance with the “other man”.

Jungkook squints his eyes at you after having looked in the direction that you head nodded towards. You see the confusion settle onto his face, waiting for you to continue whatever observation you are trying to make.

You decided to end his misery, 'He's obviously too embarrassed to admit it' you thought to yourself.

"I saw you guys together...", you say, trying your best to say the rest with your eyes. You watch as the realization hits his face. His lips formed a tiny 'oh', only to let out an "ah" followed by a short chuckle.

Following his amused response you felt embarrassed. Maybe you stepped out of line and he's going to thank you for rubbing salt into his wounds.

"Sorry" you blurt out trying to save what's left of the respect Jungkook has for you. " I should've stayed quiet..".

At this Jungkook laughs loudly only ending it with a...a coo? He leans closer to your ear so you can hear him clearly.

"Follow me"

You don't got to be told twice.

You follow him through the throngs of people, pass the kitchen, through the back door. You almost tumbled out the door but was captured by the cold air hitting your skin. You rub your arms weary of letting Jungkook see because you didn't want him to reconsider the whole idea and go back inside. You wanted to be alone with him out here. it was nice. You followed him to the bench that rocked back and forth. It was gray with a top cover. He sat on it waiting for you to join him as he tried his best to stabilize the bench by planting his feet to the ground. You gave him a small 'thanks' as you settled yourself next to him. You made sure to keep enough space between the two as to not make him uncomfortable.

Jungkook felt his heart beat in his chest a contrast to the cool night that was at a standstill compared to the house and loud music not only a few feet away. He was grateful for the noise and lights that came from the house and fencing of the backyard, as it gave his shaky breath a cover from being heard by you. He sneaked a glance at you and saw as you sat seated next to him. You followed him out here into the cold. He noticed as you rubbed your hands on your arms. At this point Jungkook knows what comes next. He should offer you his jacket, but he wasn't wearing anything. He opted for a button down, he had no reason for any other fabric. He thought he would spend most of the night in a packed house or street with so much body heat. He felt like a kid scared to look at their crush. He didn't know what to do from this point on. Having a surge of confidence at the probability that you cared for him. If you being concerned about his alleged heartbreak was anything to go by. Jungkook wants to hold onto the care you had for him no matter how small it was. He knew you were a senior who was set to go out of town. His dreams of being with you seemed like a lost hope by now. At this point he just wanted to stay by your side, just to talk, even if just for a day.

One thing Jungkook became sure of as you both stared silently at the moon was that this right here was more than he could have ever wished for.

You were the one to break the silence.

You figured you should clear the air after your assumptions.

"So how are you holding out?"

Jungkook was about to give you a generic answer until he remembered what happened inside.

"I feel perfect" he answered honestly

You give him a confused look.

Man, you thought for sure Jungkook would be heartbroken, now you're thinking of the possibility that he left her.

Jungkook suppressed his giggles and decided to come clean to you. To tell you the truth. That's all he wants for the both of you.

"You know you can come to the senior bash if you're invited by a senior"

You nod not sure where this is going.

"I asked my cousin to let me go with her" Your eyes widened

Cousin?

"I was going to go with Taehyung but he had other plans. My cousin said yes...with the condition that I become her "assistant", Jungkook makes air quotations at the word. You smiled at the playful annoyance. "So I helped her with her courses, and followed her around everywhere. Honestly". He leans in closer pointing at the colorful lights that adorned the roof of the house. "You see those lights? I hung them up all yesterday and when you go inside that dessert table was recently bought from Ikea, I had to set it up". He slumps his shoulders.

"So was it worth it?" you ask not helping the giggles that escape your mouth at his behavior.

Jungkook turns to face you. The first time you both make eye contact since reaching the bench.

"Yeah" he says softly, "I'll say it was worth it".

You avert your eyes and turn your face. A struggle but your fear of letting him see the absolute shyness you knew ozed out won over. You needed to protect yourself and most importantly him. You didn't want to scare him or offend him anymore then you already have.

Not wanting to lose the momentum of the conversation, Jungkook spurts out the first thing in his mind.

"So where are you going after you graduate?"

For some reason you didn't want to answer. It would make it way more real. The fact that you wouldn't see him anymore and that hurt. At that moment with the distant music that pouned throughout the earth, with the laughter you hear from inside the house, the light of the moon and lights from the house, the coldness that you feel around your arms and neck become fuel for you. If this was going to be your last moment with him then you should make the best out of it. Maybe even let yourself become vulnerable in every sense of the word. If just for one day, you wanted to be completely honest and open with Jungkook.

"I got an internship two hours away" you say looking at the ground, "I'll be kind of far, but maybe not so much" you don't know what you're saying, mostly just trying to convince yourself. You looked at him and are willing to say he looked almost sad. You don't know why he looks down now. You just know it made you feel worse. You want your time with him to be happy and fun. Even if it hurts later. You don't know why hes sad and you may make yourslef look completely stupid but in this moment you wieghed your options. If he answers positively you can leave with hope. If it's negative...well...at least you won't have to see him again. That thought makes you frown and scares you. It scares you so much that you couldn't even stop yourself from asking the next question if you tired.

"Do you want to wait for me?"

You both look surprised at your question.

Jungkook remains silent, so you repeat the question already feeling the adrenaline rush from your confession.

"Jungkook, do you want to wait for me?" You ask him again with hopeful eyes.

"Ar-are you pr-proposing?" He was so in shock he didn't have time to register his childhood stutter to make an appearance.

Normally you would have been frozen out of embarrassment and shock. Truthfully, you were bewildered at your actions. But it must be the power of the moon that shines above you both. Or maybe it's the alarm in your heart telling you this may be your only chance. You take a breath and give jungkook a soft smile. One that said 'yes I like you and it's okay if you don't'. You watch as he takes a moment to gather himself.

Hmm.. maybe you should have been more clear on your love confession. You were about to open your mouth to explain when he turned his body to face you. He reaches out for your hand to hold it in between his two large ones. You watch as your hands disappear inside of his.

Okay, maybe you were freaking out a little bit.

The warmth from his hands begins to travel from your arm to all of your body. Your heart beating fast against your chest as you decided to finally look him in the eye.

"Why wait?" Jungkook says.

FIN

[imma-potatoo]

Quest For A Smile

A Christmas Oneshot for my Blond Janus AU!

Summery: Janus has never gotton a chance to celebrate Christmas before. The others fully intend to change this fact as well as making the side smile.

Huge special thanks to @superwholockandpfl and @mother-snake for making my year amazing and pushing me to improve my writing! You two are absolutely amazing and I can't express enough gratitude 💛💙💚

Words: 5,196

Janus sighed heavily as he walked in the front door. Blond curls a complete and total mess, coated with sweat and a slight tinge of blood. As the door shut behind him he leaned against it with a groan and an unpleasant look on his face. Wrath was angry again, he managed to escape before any real harm could be inflicted but Janus still breathed in deep and held it for multiple seconds to calm his nerves. Soon his lungs cleared and he could breathe easy once more. Something smelled off this time though, the lightsides home typically smelled of fresh chocolate and golden brown cookies, of the forest and the thick mist of lakes, of crofters and handbound books. But this time it was different…

 The air was filled with the smell of gingerbread, a hint of fresh pine and peppermint. Glitter seemed to be permanently soaked into the carpet. The air was warm and filled with the scent of sugar with sweetened honey and nutmeg. Soft sounds of cheerful music filled the house as laughs filed in from the living room.

Janus pushed himself away from the door, locking it securely, before walking into the living room. He was swaying back and forth a bit, but that was nothing compared to the pure dose of pure confusion when he saw the other sides. 

Absolutely hideous sweaters, fur-trimmed red hats with a cotton ball on the end, an ear-to-ear smile, and slightly thicker pants, it was on every side. Janus wasn’t used to this. He was used to the normal wear of the others, even the twins dressed down. But Janus had definitely seen weirder things that day and just collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Attempting to avoid staining the couch with blood, but it was a fruitless effort as the wound hit the cushion directly.

The others stopped their laughter and exchanged a look of confusion with one another. Janus was very rarely happy when he came in the door, often sporting multitudes of injuries and grumbling swears under his breath as he raided the medical cabinet for the fifth time that week. The sides felt horrible after seeing every bandage and cut. Virgil walked up to the smaller side.

“Jannie?” muffled grumbles and obscurities came from the side on the couch, “come on baby snake. I gotta see your injuries” more mild swears escaped the younger's lips as he sat up with a scowl.

His scales were patchy, a few torn-out leaving empty, gaping, bloody holes in their stead. The blood was dried on his cheek; smelling so much like iron the others had to hold in their retching. A huge black eye was already forming on his right and his cheeks were soaked in painful tears. His outfit was a mess, his black dress shirt was torn in multiple places, revealing more oozing blood from underneath. Yellow suspenders hanging limply from his shoulders. On his left temple was a large gash, heavily and steadily leaking more of the bright crimson liquid. Janus looked sad and broken, his eyes were dull as he stared into Virgil's warm gray ones.

Virgil stared at his child in horror, every time that Janus had returned to the light side, he had this spark. This look in his eyes that compelled him to fight. That forced him to stand back up after every hit and strike. It was almost like a pull that required him to keep fighting. But even the strongest fighters can’t get back up occasionally. And Virgil could tell that Janus was falling, because of that spark that powered Janus’ every move.

It was gone.

The one thing that Virgil refused to do was let his baby fall. He had broken too many promises to break his entire purpose of being a father.

Virgil smiled, it was fake and too hard to pull off, but he gazed into Janus’ blue and yellow eyes anyway. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up,” Virgil held out his hand for Janus to take, watching as the smaller side extended his hand slowly and rested it in his palm. Virgil helped the yellow side stand shakily as he led him to the kitchen, extending the sides a look as he walked away.

When the duo got to the kitchen, Virgil picked up Janus like he weighed nothing -it wasn’t far off- and plopped him on the counter. “Stay right here, I’m going to go grab the medkit from the bathroom. Ok?” Virgil watched as Janus held himself tightly; watching as the side nodded slightly as his eyes were trained to the floor. Virgil felt his stomach churn as he walked away from the side and back to the group, the plastic smile melting away faster with every step only to be replaced with a heart of lead and eyes doused in concern.

Logan stopped Virgil on his mission for the medkit, “Is Janus adequate?” his lips twisting into a frown while Virgil shook his head as Patton interrupted, “what's wrong with our kiddo?” you could hear the heaviness in his voice. It was shaking as if it was afraid to know the answer. 

Virgil drew a deep breath as he looked at the sides, their eyes crawling with concern and nervousness. “The last time that he acted like this… it- it wasn’t good.” Virgil looked down at the ground, “When he was fifteen, Wrath and Depression did a number on him. And…. and he was bleeding out. Completely collapsed in the main hallway, and when-” Virgil’s voice had gone rough, closing up to prevent any noise from escaping. But he pushed through and continued speaking anyway, “When I found him I took him back to my room and started to patch him up. But- but he just stopped me and told me to let him go.” Virgil could feel the tears leaking down his cheeks as he continued the story, “I patched him up regardless but the week after-” he drew another breath slow and steady, calming down his nerves. “The week after, I found him lying in a pool of his own blood next to a note.” his own voice sounded choked, “I don’t know what's happening with Jan… but I’m not going to lose him because of a mistake I made years ago.” Virgil wiped away his tears as he started to walk away to get the medical kit.

“Virgil?”

Virgil turned to face Logan, “Do the darks celebrate Christmas?”

 Virgil shook his head, “no, holidays were seen as weakness. Especially Christmas…. I always tried to get him a gift though”

Logan nodded with a sour look on his face, expression bitter as he played with the trim of his Christmas sweater. Brows furrowed in thought as Virgil walked away. Logan's mind was whirring. Twisting and turning like the gears on a machine. Granted, Logan was always thinking. That was his sole function. To think and to problem solve. Logan has never been one to admit that he had emotions, he actively denied having any such thing, but he wouldn’t lie and say that he was unhappy. He had a loving family, a table with food that wasn’t green with mold, a safe warm bed where he could fall asleep without having to risk making it to morning. His life was far from perfect, but it was nowhere near Janus’. And ever since Virgil had told them where Janus was meant to be, a huge pit of guilt was starting to gnaw at his stomach. And that wouldn’t stand, it didn’t matter if Logan had to personally dispose of the dark sides himself. He was going to make Janus smile.

By the time that Virgil returned with the medkit and started to patch up Janus, Logan had discussed his plan with the rest of the family. The twins got to work crafting an early gift for the yellow side. Janus was way smaller than the rest of them, maybe 5’3” while Patton -who was the second shortest of the bunch- was 5’8”. The sides tried to make it fit the best as possible; without showing Janus of course. And eventually, the gift was all wrapped up in a neat bow and ribbon, waiting for the recipient.

When Virgil finished fixing up the smaller side, he took Janus’ hand and led him back to the living room where all the sides were waiting, all excitedly bouncing up and down. Virgil could feel Janus tense up as they sat on the couch, the younger side attempting to keep his thoughts in line and his breathing calm, repeating over and over that he was safe and that they wouldn’t hurt him.

 They would never hurt him, this is the light sides, they’re good people, hitting someone makes you a bad person; right? But, there are always exceptions to the rules, if someone is hurting a bad person to protect a good person does that mean that the abuser is good? Janus’ leg was bouncing repeatedly, his eyes growing hazy. Breathing grew faster and faster as the thoughts turned even more toxic, repeating a horrible mantra of hate and disgust for the side’s own skin. After all, if everything’s supposed to happen for a reason, why did he hurt every day? Good people get rewarded, bad people are punished. So if he’s getting punished every day, wouldn’t that make him bad? What did he ever, ever do to get this kind of treatment? This isn’t fair, why couldn’t it be fair? What did he do? How many bruises could make up for whatever heinous crime he’d committed? He’s tired, he’s just so tired, is it so much for him to ask for him to just sleep fore-

“-Seven, eight. Come on buddy! You here?” Janus was broken from the toxic mantra with the lights grabbing his hand. Bringing him back to reality. He nodded, sucking in a large breath. He didn’t even notice that he was spacing out, blocking out all of his surroundings. Drawing one more breath he looked back up at the light sides. Finding faces full of concern and worry. Doubtful glances at one another when Janus said that he was fine.

Janus looked up at the others, “what did you guys need?” his voice was slightly shaky as he touched his bandaged temple, flinching back his hand after it stung horribly.

“Um, hi kiddo!” Patton could barely meet his eyes, “how ya feeling?” Janus shrugged, his eyes training back to the ground, “We um, got you a present!”

Janus’ eyes snapped back up, “What?”

The others exchanged a look, “Yeah, Jannie, it's a Christmas Gift.” Janus looked confused as he blinked repeatedly in complete wonderment “you….. have gotten a gift before right?”

Janus nodded, “well, I have. But the others always got rid of them.” and that was the exact second that the mood died.

Roman  was confused, “What do you mean they ‘got rid of them’ snakes n ladders?”

Janus looked a little puzzled, “Well, Vee would get me a gift, I would get to play with it for a while and then they would find out and burn it.” Janus hesitantly turned his gaze to the others, finding looks of horror, anger, and tears leaking down their faces, “I take it that it's not supposed to be like that?”

Patton has his hand clasped over his mouth as thick globs of tears leaked down his cheeks. Shaking his head repeatedly, “No- no, kiddo! The presents you get are supposed to stay with you! And you’re supposed to keep them! And love them! And they’re supposed to be precious memories, not ashes in the fireplace!”

Janus looked back to the floor, his eyebrows furrowed in thought and confusion, “oh”  

Roman patted the father figment on the back as he wiped his tears. He grabbed a large yellow package from the coffee table and placed it lightly in the younger sides lap.

Janus reached out his hand tentatively, lightly stroking the black glittery ribbon that wrapped the yellow paper. The paper was covered in small snakes winding up various Christmassy items like trees and ornaments. Janus felt a stinging sensation come to his eyes as his voice felt stuck in his throat. “F-for me?” questioning eyes met the others. He looked back down to the gift once he got confirmation through various modes of agreement.

With the security of the smiles and encouragement of the lightsides, Janus grabbed the ribbon and pulled. It fell away as Janus ripped the yellow paper carefully. His fingers shook slightly as he opened the box, his eyes widened as he completely lost his ability to speak.

Inside of the box was a sweater. It was plush and a vibrant yellow. The wool was as soft as a cloud with ornaments, candy canes, and swirls and dots filled in the gaps as the pattern. It was a standard Christmas sweater,  but it was clear by the hiccuping tears streaming down the side’s face, that it meant a lot to him.

Bringing his hand to his mouth to muffle the sobs, he pulled the sweater out of the box and pulled it close to his chest. A small note falling to his lap.

The others watched as Janus shakily picked up the note and as the tears leaked down faster as he read on.

‘Janus, we know that this gift cannot make up for all the missed Christmases. But, you deserve to have a happy day. Will you spend the day with us? ~Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, and Remus’

Janus looked up at the others with a shocked face, his mouth gaped open in shock, eyes wide as hope filled his irises once more. The sweater was pulled close to his chest, doubtful -but hopeful- eyes flicked back and forth between the five of them, “y-you mean it?”

Virgil rushed to his child, sitting quickly but not too roughly as to startle him. “Janus, look at me.” The yellow side raised his eyes to meet his, the grip tightening on the sweater, “I’m not going to take your gift, my hatchling.” Virgil breathed deep as the side lightened his grip ever so slightly, “you shouldn’t have to worry about anything that you currently do. And, my adorable hatchling, we would never do anything that could make your life even harder.” Virgil slowly reached for Janus’ hands, “now, do you want to have a real Christmas?”

The others held their breath as seemingly millions of different emotions flashed on the smaller side’s face, their eyes flickering nervously before Janus pulled his hands away from Virgil and they felt their hearts sink like a ball of lead.

The others watched with tear-filled eyes while Janus pulled the sweater over his head. The side looked up at them with wide hopeful eyes, “please?”

--------

Sooner than Janus could blink, he was bundled like he was going to Antarctica, and they were trudging outside towards an evergreen forest.

Janus walked beside Virgil, a beanie covering his blond locks while Virgil let his jet black hair blow freely in the crisp winter wind. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they followed the twins. Virgil humming a small tune that Janus thought was a Christmas carol. Oversized mittens covered the half-snakes hands, keeping them very warm and content; as well as a matching yellow scarf. but truth be told, Janus had absolutely no clue about Christmas.

The sides stopped at the forest; Janus, Logan, and Virgil watched the other three run wild in the evergreens. Janus stood there puzzled as Remus climbed one of the trees to get a better view of the land, Janus turned to Virgil, “Hey dad?” Virgil looked down at the side, Janus’ eyes were wide like a doe’s, his face was questioning.

“Yeah, Jan?”

Janus played with the ends of his mittens, “Why are we here?” his eyes stayed calm for a second before dissolving into pure panic, “not that I’m not happy to be here! I just don’t get why we went to an evergreen forest to celebrate Christmas……”

Virgil blanked out for a second, then it clicked. Janus didn’t understand Christmas… and Virgil was determined to change that fact.

Virgil let out a small smile, “Come sit down, I’ll tell you,” Virgil led the smaller side to a fallen log, sitting down and waiting for Janus to do the same. Virgil went to open his mouth when Janus sat next to him with curious eyes, only to pause and take a deep breath, “LOGAN!!!”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, before sighing and walking to the pair -shoving a bookmark in his book while he was at it. He stopped before the purple side, “Yes Virgil?”

Virgil rubbed his eyes with his hand, “L, can you tell Jan why we put a pine tree inside for Christmas? I don’t know how to explain this…”

Logan perked up slightly, “Of course! I’ll be happy to explain!” he sat down on the other side of Janus. “Christmas trees were originally from Germany. Specifically, it was developed in medieval Livonia -present-day Estonia and Latvia- and early modern Germany where German protestant christens brought decorated evergreens into their homes. However, in ancient Egypt, during the winter solace, the Egyptians would fill their homes with palm leaves. And, the early Romans celebrated Saturnalia, in honor of Saturn; god of agriculture and they decorated their homes and temples with evergreen boughs. But that's not even mentioning the celts!” Logan beamed as Janus listening intently, the yellow side seemed to be absorbing every once of information that Logan provided. Logan relaxed comfortably on the fallen tree, telling Janus the reason they put ornaments on the tree as the side stared at him with sparkling eyes.

The two left-brain sides talked all the way back to the house, the tree in hand, Janus occasionally prompting more questions from the blue side and the said side happily answering them. Virgil let loose a small grin as he saw Janus happily talking and asking questions about evergreens

The sides got back to the house and the twins started to trim and set up the tree.

Janus and Logan sat on the couch to continue their discussion on why all of Santa’s Reindeer were actually female when Patton called for Janus from the kitchen. Janus looked at Logan with a fond expression, but no smile…

Janus stood up and walked past Virgil and Remus arguing over a gingerbread cookie, apparently, it was different from the other cookies…. Janus didn’t get it, he walked carefully into the kitchen where Patton was leaning over the counter with a small hum under his breath.

“You called Patton?” Janus played with the end of his Christmas sweater, he kept the black beanie too. Patton turned around with a bright grin

“Hiya kiddo!” Patton was wearing a blue apron reading ‘give the cook a puppy!’ with a spatula and a smear of frosting on his cheek. “Wanna help me decorate a gingerbread house?!” Patton watched as different emotions flickered over the younger's face, he looked at the father figment with a look of pure confusion.

“But, can’t you just eat the candies how they are? I thought that no one ate the gingerbread anyway, so isn’t that kinda a waste?” Janus’ looked at the candy by the undecorated house, the house was already assembled to prevent any anger and frustration, Janus turned back to Patton when he heard the side giggle.

Patton rocked back and forth on his heels, hands covered in flour and sugar which were tied up in the strings of his apron, a small grin on his lips as he made eye contact with Janus. “I mean… I guess you could just eat the candy…. But decorating it is half the fun! Besides! Remus and Logan love gingerbread! Plus I made it from scratch, so it’ll taste good!” Patton turned back to the counter and started rustling in the baking ingredients before grabbing something with a squeal and turning back to Janus. He held out his hand to the smaller side, offering the cookie.

Janus looked at the cyan side and hesitantly raised his own hand shakily to take the sweet. Patton was patient as his brain screamed danger and he has to fight to keep himself calm, keeping the cookie exactly where it was with a calm smile and relaxed eyes. Though Janus could tell that there was some underlying nervousness, maybe it was because his grip on the cookie was a little too tight, or because he could sense how afraid the others were of upsetting him, or maybe it was because the tension in the air was never gone when he was around. They didn’t want to make him upset. Janus didn’t know how to feel about that information.

Janus grabbed the cookie and brought it to his lips, trying to ignore the urge to not eat anything that another person gave him, and he took a bite. Nutmeg and ginger filled his senses, the cookie was sweet but slightly dry as it crumbled in his mouth as he continued to chew. The next bite, he bit into some chocolate which brought his senses over the moon. It was soft as his teeth repeatedly sank into the brown shape. He looked up at the father figment with wide sparkling eyes, “what kind of cookie was that?!”

Patton chuckled as Janus continuously went back for more bites of the cookie, “That was a gingerbread man kiddio! Homemade too!” Janus seemed to be zoned out as Patton laughed slightly under his breath. “I’ll take it that you’re helping me decorate?” the same happy grin only grew as Janus nodded his head vigorously.

Janus and Patton decorated the gingerbread house with every single candy they could fit on to the tiny baked good. Frosting smothered every inch and candy was thrown around like snow in a storm. Patton giggled as he saw Janus occasionally sneak  a few candies, “come on kiddo! Don’t eat all the candy! We gotta use some on the house!” Patton could pinpoint the exact second that Janus’ expression fell, he was so close to getting him to smile only for him to ruin it with a silly comment. “Oh! No! No no no no! Kiddo, it's ok! Here, I can get you your own bowl of candy!” Patton walked away from the counter with a heavy heart.

He had been so close to getting Janus to smile! It was right there! He could see Janus’ lips start to turn into a weavering smile and he just had to make that comment, Patton walked over to Virgil under the guise of grabbing some candy from the bowl in the living room.

He started filling the small bowl with candy, “hey, Kiddo?” Virgil hummed in response, scrolling through his phone, “has Janus ever had any sweets before?” that stopped Virgil in his tracks, he turned off his phone and looked Patton directly in the eyes.

“Patton, you do know what you’re asking me right?” Virgil kept his eyes trained on the cyan side as he nodded. Virgil rubbed his temple and sighed, “the others… are big on control. Wrath will force you to do something you regret and hold it over your head for years…. Anyway, one of the ways that Wrath,” Virgil felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine, “controls you, is by having complete power over the food supply. And sweets were not something that was handed out. Oftentimes we got stuck with some rotten excuse for food while the other three ate like kings” Virgil leaned to the back of the couch, his phone by his side, “Janus only got sweets when I managed to sneak them in.” Patton saw Virgil take large slow calming breaths, even and slow. “Now, popstar, what did you say to my kid?”

Patton took a deep breath, his chest was shaking, Virgil was known to be quite protective of the smaller side, “I didn’t mean to kiddo! He kept sneaking little pieces of candy and I told him to save some for the gingerbread house. I didn’t mean to make him upset!” Virgil sighed audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Take some of the charamals, I think he’ll like them.” Virgil’s voice was low, clearly quite tired. He analyzed the light blue side carefully. “Patton, I’m not angry. Just try to be a little more careful with how you phrase things.” Patton nodded, pulling the candy bowl close to his chest. His glum expression disappears in the matter of seconds. The brilliant grin back on his lips with full force.

“Thanks kiddo! Your dear old dad-” “Patton, I’m older than you.” “your dear old dad needed some pointers!” Patton walked away with a pit of lead in his stomach, his dark kiddos had suffered for so long and they could barely do anything for Janus due to the rules of the mind.

In order for a side to switch their part of the mind, they need “permission” from a side from their current place of residence and everyone in their future residence. Janus had everyone’s acceptance from the lightside, but the darks refusing to let him go. Janus was the side to give Remus and Virgil permission and now the poor side is stuck because there is no way the darks are going to give up their leverage. Everyone on the lightside feels absolutely horrible.

It feels like a vicious cycle. Janus goes to the darkside, he gets hurt, he goes to the lightside to heal up and get some food, he stays for maybe a day (if he’s luckily) before he has to return to his room in the dark, only for the cycle to repeat over and over and over. Everyone knew Janus was falling, they just didn’t have the guts to say it.

Patton walked back into the kitchen with the bowl of candy. He hid the bowl behind his back, walking slowly to not startle the smaller side. Janus was barely up to his ear, wild blond curls stuck out every way they could manage, Janus turned and Patton got a better look at the shiny eyes that belonged to the younger side. His right eye was a light baby blue with speckles of green and gold. It reminded Patton of the glimmering galaxies that Logan often showed him, or of the rising and falling tides that were deadly but so serene. The other eye was a bright contrasting gold, it was rich in colour and metallic like a coin in a sunken chest. The pupil of the golden eye was slim like a snake, it was constantly flickering around the room -although Patton didn’t know if that was his snake instincts or a habit formed from years of planning desperate escapes.

“Hey kiddo! I got you something!” Janus looked a little confused, he normally didn’t get a single gift, more than one was almost unheard of, but he raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner nonetheless. “Hold your hands!” Janus followed his instructions slowly. Validity Deceit isn’t one to trust people blindly. Janus watched Patton closely as he pulled something from behind his back and set it in his hands. Janus felt his eyes widen

In his hands sat a bowl overflowing with sweets. Janus couldn’t form words as he kept staring at the bowl, chocolates to charamals to hard candy. Janus couldn’t get any words to form as he just kept staring at the bowl. He felt small pinpricks of tears spring to his eyes but managed to hold them in. Janus looked back up at Patton with joyful eyes.

“Thank you” his voice breathless

----

The freshly decorated gingerbread house sat on the coffee table, hot chocolate was pressed into the hands of the sides as they prepared to watch a christmas movie. The air was warm with the fireplace glowing burning flames. Janus stared into the dancing embers, entranced by the red blaze. It was so warm and comforting, it felt almost like a warm hug. But the flames also reminded him of Apathy and his lighter. That thought alone sent a shiver down his spine as the others argued over the movie

“The Muppets Christmas Carol!”

“The Grinch!”

“Noelle is an empowering movie for women.”

“Home Alone!”

“The Nightmare before Christmas!”

Janus hummed along to the radio that was playing in the meantime, the warm chocolatey drink was sweet. He didn’t know the words for the songs but he still enjoyed the songs regardless.

“Remus, we are not making Janus’ first christmas movie a horror film!” Roman was starting to get a little irritated with his twin. His quips were starting to get a little more bite than bark, the tension was starting to raise like it always did on their movie nights

“Well why not?! Come on Abel! Tell dear old Cain why we can’t watch a perfectly fine movie! Or is that stick up your butt shoved too far!?” Remus was just as mocking as the others stood on the sidelines. This was typical of the twins, they would settle down eventually and they could pick a movie.

Janus sitting in between Virgil and Logan, his head lolled to the side; resting on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil in turn, had his arm resting over his shoulder in a comforting manner.

Logan leaned against the back cushions, coffee in one hand, “actually, Cain was the older sibling so Remus comparing himself to Cain would be incorrect because he’s youn-”

“SHUT UP NERD!!!!” the twins both screamed at the same time, the house shaking at the pure volume for the yell. The very second the yell sounded, Janus flinched and Virgil pulled the yellow side onto his lap, wrapping both arms around him in a protective grip. 

The purple side growled lowly, “you two are going to calm down NOW. I’m not going to tolerate this today.” The red and green sides squeaked slightly at Virgil’s tempest tone, it wasn’t brought out often but when it was, it definitely got the others to listen. Virgil took a breath, calming his voice. “We’re watching Logan’s pick.” Janus had accepted his fate as a snuggle buddy, besides, he felt safe anyway.

The group was quiet, each side having their own questions in their mind. “Why Logans? Noelle isn’t normally on the watch list?” Roman huffed as he threw himself on the newly constructed pillow throne, he was just as dramatic as Juliet when she stabbed her own heart.

Virgil shrugged as he slightly loosened his grip on Janus, “Happy ending, good message, it's funny, and it has a great message of female empowerment.” The sides all snuggled into their chairs as Remus brought up the movie.

The fire was warm. Snow was falling gracefully out the window. The hot chocolate was steaming as marshmallows floated like little islands. The sides were calm, no injuries to tend or having to hide, only the calm steady breathing of the six as Santa walked on screen.

And Janus let out a small smile.

-------

Taglist:

@writerstrashbin , @psychedelicships , @cryptidwriterdotcom (ask to be removed or added)

@girl-with-many-fandoms @fortunatelyimperfect @idkanameatall

Merry Christmas my friends. I hope you enjoy this late Christmas present. ❤️💛💚💙💜💖

Blond Janus AU masterpost

[girlwithshipsshitshow]

Part 21

Takahiro: We need to talk. (His speech was still slightly slurred). 

Usagi: Ar- are you drunk?

Takahiro: Only a little bit. Is my family there?

Usagi: (Sighs, leans against the wall, crossing his arms), That depends, what family are you talking about?

Takahiro: My wife and Kid.

Usagi: So not the baby brother you claim to care so much about, only to get drunk because you hate the fact that he’s gay?  

Takahiro: You don’t Understand. 

Usagi: What I understand is, that the you’re going to lose the brother you say you care about so much if you  don’t come to terms with who he is and his happiness. I think you should probably figure your shit out before his graduation, or you might lose him  forever.

Takahiro: B-

Usagi: I have to go, I think it’s  better if you give everyone space. (Hangs up, Misaki Runs into his arms, tears are in his eyes). Did you hear all that?

Misaki: Yeah.

Usagi: I’m sorry.

Misaki:  It’s not you’re fault. Um, can we just go to bed.

Usagi: Sure, yeah. It’s been a long day. (He picked the younger boy up cradling him in his arms, heading up the stairs to their room).

Misaki: (Wraps his arms around his neck), I didn’t ask you to do this.

Usagi: (Laughs softly), Yeah, but you aren’t really complaining. 

(Usagi walked into  their room, closing the door behind him, sitting Misaki on the bed, he grinned staring down at him causing Misaki to blush.)

Misaki: What?

Usagi: (Leans down, pushing hair behind Misaki's ear. He smiles warmly kissing him on the lips.) You’re so fucking sexy. I- miss you. 

Misaki: (He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down Usagi’s arms), I miss you too. 

Usagi: Can’t we, (He gave a naughty smile, sliding his hands under Misaki’s shirt, playing with his nipples). 

Misaki: (Moans slightly), No baby, you know we can’t.

Usagi: You aren’t making any effort to move my hands.

Misaki: It feels good, I miss it, but no. (He took Usagi’s hands out of his shirt), stop babe. 

Usagi: (Sits on the bed beside  him), Look, I just think we can have sex, what's the worst that can happen? 

Misaki: Your stiches that are barely healed could come undone, then you have to get them fixed, and we’ll have to wait longer. You just got home from the hospital a few  days ago and for some reason I just let you lift me. 

Usagi: We’ll the Doc said, no heavy lifting so...

Misaki: Hey... (He knocked against Usagi), I just want you to be carful. 

Usagi: We’ll can we sleep with our shirts off?

Misaki: You have to promises no nipple play.

Usagi: Okay. (He grinned, ripping Misaki’s shirt off pushing him on the bed hungrily kissing him). 

Misaki: (He looks up at the older man, running his fingers through his hair, moving his arms down to the bottom of his shirt, slowly taking it off. Misaki ran his hands over the older mans back.)

Usagi: I thought we weren’t doing this. (He grins placing kisses all over Misaki’s face.)

Misaki: We aren’t, but, that doesn’t mean I can’t feel your back right? I miss the feel of it. 

Usagi: You’re cute.

Misaki: (Blushes), you know how I feel about that word.

Usagi: Yeah, you love it.

Misaki: I actually have grown to love it.

Usagi: Because you know it’s true.

Misaki: Maybe, (The younger boy shivers) 

Usagi: Are you cold?

Misaki: Yeah, it’s freezing. 

Usagi: (He smiles, pulling the covers around them, turning now the two were on their sides). Better?

Misaki: Not quite. (He grinned, turning to Usagi, so his head was on his chest), perfect.

Usagi: (Grins, Wrapping his arms around Misaki). Absolutely. 

(The two fell asleep, wrapped in each others arms, their hearts syncing, beating as one).  

(Usagi was the first to wake, it was around seven thirty am, Misaki was sound asleep, his head resting against Usagi’s chest, the older man smiled gently pressing a kiss against his head. He loved Misaki so much, he wished Takahiro would accept Misaki, he knew Usagi was Gay and didn’t mind, Misaki was probably right, his brother had this whole life planned out for him, and his plans didn’t include him being gay, let alone falling in love with his brother best friend. Takahiro would have to get over it, Misaki was who he was, and he couldn’t change that, and it’s not like they planned to fall in love, Usagi clearly remembers that they hated each other at first. Usagi laughed to himself, he couldn’t believe almost five years ago they met, and a few months after that they started dating, although, he still feels awful about the way he treated him when he first came to his place, Misaki forgives him but Usagi still feels sick when you thinks about it. He closed his eyes trying to push the memory away again. Misaki stirred, he stretched looking up at the older man.)

Misaki: Hi, (He grinned, blushing).

Usagi: Morning. Did you sleep well?

Misaki: Yeah, I guess. (He ran his hand over Usagi's muscular chest). Did you?

Usagi: Mmmmm.

Misaki: Good. (He sat up pulling the covers around him, he looked down at Usagi who propped himself up on his elbow, grinning at him).

Usagi: What is it baby? (he ran his hand up Misaki’s thigh).

Misaki: Um, (Misaki twisted his engagement ring around on his finger), Never mind its nothing. I- I’m going to take a shower. (Misaki started to get out of bed, but Usagi  reached for him).

Usagi: Tell me what’s wrong.

Misaki: Todays Saturday. 

Usagi: Ah, (He sat up, giving him a confused look), and Saturdays make you sad?

Misaki: I graduate next week.

Usagi: So you’re nervous? 

Misaki: No, I- (He looked down at the floor), I guess I don’t know how to feel, and with everything going on right now, Maybe I don’t want to Graduate.

Usagi: I know. (He sat on the edge of the bed) Come here, (He pulled Misaki on his lap), What do you want to do?

Misaki: Well, I want to take a shower. (He giggled), Um then I want to go get breakfast. 

Usagi: Okay, where do you want to go?

Misaki: Lets go to the place we went yesterday? I know it’s out of the way, but can it be our place?

Usagi: Might as well be, It’s going to be close to our house.

Misaki: Okay. Also, I know you told my brother he should give us space but what i-

Usagi: No baby, you can’t go to him. it’s his job to figure this out. If you make up with him, he’ll think he’s off the hook, he’s not.

Misaki: Yeah, I guess. I just want to do something. 

Usagi: (Caressing Misaki's face), I know, because your a fixer, this is different though. 

Misaki: I know, (Kiss Usagi’s cheek), I’m going to take a shower. (Stands up).

Usagi: Can I come?

Misaki: (Rolls eyes), Fine, but no funny business. 

Usagi: (Laughs, standing up), I KNOW! I KNOW! (Wraps arms around Misaki placing kisses on his neck).

Misaki: (Giggles); Hey, quite it. 

Usagi: You said no funny business, you didn’t say no kissing.

Misaki: (Runs into bathroom), Sneaky.

Usagi: (Grins, chases after him).

Mahiro: Mommy, I’m hungry! (lying on his stomach, legs in the air, reading a book).

Manami: (On the couch flipping through channels), I know honey, but it sounds like your Uncles are up, so maybe when they come downstairs we can figure out breakfast. I can get you some juice and crackers for now?

Mahiro: Okay!

Manami: Alight, (she grins, standing up, ruffling Mahiro’s hair as she passes him walking into the kitchen). 

Mahiro: Mom, when will Mitaki and Uangi get married?

Manami: I don’t know sweetie: (Brings snacks to him).

Mahiro: Are they going to have kids?

Manami: Maybe, why? you want cousins? 

Mahiro: Yeah! Plus, I think they would make good parents, they deserve kids...( Puts, a finger to his chis), How do they have kids?

Manami: Um...

Mahiro: They can’t have kids like you and daddy.

Manami: And how did daddy and I have kids?

Mahiro: I don’t know, but I know that they can’t do it like you guys did.

Manami: Well, if they want to, they have a few options, but that  would be up to them.

Mahiro: Oh. (Takes a sip of juice), is this one of the conversations for when I’m older?

Manami: Or when they decied to have kids, and we can explain it to you better.

Mahiro: Okay. 

Manami: (Sighs), Okay. (Sits down, leans against couch).

(Misaki wrapped a towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower, Usagi has gotten out before him and was getting dressed in the bedroom. The older man still preferred wearing sweats instead of his dress shirts and ties, Misaki walked into the bedroom where Usagi wore black sweat pants, he was digging through the draws looking through a shirt to wear when he turned around to face the younger boy).

Usagi: Hey,(He pulled him towards him kissing his cheek). 

Misaki: Hi. (He look down at his stomach, looking down at his scar, carefully running his fingers over it).

Usagi: Misaki, it’s okay.

Misaki: It’s not.

Usagi: I’m okay though. I’m here. Plus, I never would've discovered my love for sweats without it.

Misaki: (Laughs sadly), Yeah I guess. 

Usagi: Don’t worry. (He grinned putting on a black shirt and a black hoodie). I love you. 

Misaki: I love you too. 

Usagi: Okay, I’m going to take this downstairs. (He picked up the laundry basket sitting on the), I’ll see you in a minute, then we can go eat.

Misaki: Sounds good.

 (He stood up kissing Usagi softly on the lips, he exited the bedroom, Misaki went to the dresser searching for something to wear, landing on gray sweatpants, a white shirt, and a red hoodie, quickly towel drying his hair, then he made his way downstairs. Misaki paused at the top of  the stairs, watching Usagi interact with Mahiro, the two were growing closer, it made his heart swell.)

Usagi: Go fish.

Mahiro: You promise you don’t have any fives?

Usagi: I don’t have any fives, I’d let you have a five if I did.

Mahiro: Fine. (He grumbled pulling a card from the deck, a huge smile forming across his face.) I GOT THE FIVE!! I DIDN’T NEED YOUR STINKY CARDS ANYWAY!

Usagi: (Laughs), Good game. (He stacked the cards together shuffling them).

Misaki: (Walking up behind him, kissing him on his cheek), Hey.

Usagi: Hey, you ready? 

Misaki: Yeah, (He glanced at Manami and Mahiro), You guys want to come eat breakfast with us?

Mahiro: Yes!! (He jumped up running over to Misaki almost knocking him over, running into the mudroom, Manami racing after him).

Usagi: Aright, lets go. (He stood up stretching, as his phone started to ring), Hold on. Hello?

Eri: Usami; it’s me.

Usagi: (he slid his hand in his pocket, glancing at Misaki, raising an eyebrow.) What's up Eri?

Eri: What are y’all up too today?

Usagi: About to go eat,  why? what's up? 

Eri: Rose has the day off, we were wondering if you wanted to hang out.

Usagi: Well, you can join us for breakfast if you want, I can text you the address?

Eri: Sure! See you soon!

Usagi: (Hangs up, putting phone in his pocket, Misaki is staring at him in disbelief). What?

Misaki: It’s just, not even a few months ago, you wanted me all to yourself, and now...

Usagi: (He sighed, pulling Misaki towards him wrapping his arms around his neck). These people are our family, and I always want you to myself. (He chuckled), But we haven’t seen Eri and Rose in a while, I thought it would be nice to invite them out.

Misaki: Remember when you hated people? What happened to that guy? That’s the guy I fell in love with.

Usagi: (Laughs), You’re so full of shit. The guy you fell in love with is the clingy overprotective guy. 

Misaki: Yeah, (He scoffed), That guy shows himself to others a lot these days. A lot of people didn’t think you had another side to you.

Usagi: You’re the one who helped  bring out the softer side of me. 

Misaki: Ah, I can’t take all the credit. 

Usagi: You can, I’d be dead if I hadn’t met you.

Misaki: (He grinned softly kissing Usagi on the lips). Maybe, I know I wouldn’t be graduating if I hadn’t met you. I’d also be really sad.  

Usagi: You make me really happy too baby. (He grinned, the two leaning in for a kiss when Mahiro ran in pulling their hands).

Mahiro: LETS GO I’M HUNGRY!! 

Usagi: He’s hungry.

Misaki: Yeah. We’re coming, don’t worry. 

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

21 - Unwanted Inconvenience

I've changed the band name from "Xannys" to "Grimlace". I am extremely sorry for making you all suffer through having such an awful band name in the past.

I cannot stress this enough, please vote for my chapters! And I love every comment I get so much!! It makes my day seeing the number of comments I get:)

This chapters songs:

Retreat! - Crumb

Sponge Won't Soak - Wild Moccasins

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

- Y. L. Perspective

"Uhm...Suga?" Tanaka's voice is heard to our left, waking both me Koshi up from our very long nap. "We're here you know."

His awkward tone alone was enough to send us both jumping out of our seats, fearful that the entire team had waited for us to get up. But thankfully, it was just Daichi and Tanaka standing above us.

Both Koshi and I look at each other in unison. "Sorry..." he manages to mumble while leaving the seat. I follow him shortly after, leaving the van empty.

Was I sorry? No. The nap against Koshi was five stars. I hadn't ever had such a comfortable car ride in my entire life until I rested on him. Besides, he was my boyfriend. Why would I be sorry for something silly like that?

What I was sorry about was that we almost got noticed by Eclair. The entire team knew about Koshi and me, except for her. I didn't know much about her and from what I perceived of her she didn't seem like a drama starter. She would most likely cry and yell and forget about it when she went back to France in a couple of days.

We had thought everyone would be tired after such a long car ride. But not Hinata. He admired the structure of the big building, yelling, "Wow! I've never been to a training camp before! This feels so cool!"

"It's just a training camp," Kageyama remarked, yet Hinata stands unfazed.

The team entered the building, all of us observing its basic beige architecture and decor. Everyone gathered around Takeda to ask which rooms they were assigned to. As for Kiyoko, Eclair, and I—we had asked him beforehand to get a head start.

All three of us manage to sneak off from the crowd and hunt down our room number: #613. Although I wasn't very comfortable around Eclair, I didn't feel uneasy to be sleeping in the same room as her. It only meant I couldn't update Kiyoko on my relationship with Sugawara.

Once we'd found our designated room, I unfolded the tiny key and stick it into the lock, hearing a click not soon after I turn it.

When I had opened the door, I wasn't entirely dissatisfied. There were two bunk beds on each side of the room, all four mattresses covered in floral printed sheets with nightstands next to them. The curtains had the same pattern as the sheets, falling over a large square window.

Overall, it was a nice room. Way nicer than the previous motels and hotel rooms that my band had stayed in during concerts and such. All stank of marijuana and alcohol.

Eclair's brackets make a 'jingle!' sound while she squealed, "it's lovely!" The girl runs up to one of the bottom bunks and places her bag there, collapsing onto the mattress. "I'm so thankful to be spending my last few days in Japan here!"

Kiyoko nods gently, her too putting her luggage on the opposite bunk bed. Assuming she wouldn't mind it, I threw my bag on the bunk above her. It would most likely be easier to communicate with her if I shared a bed with her.

"Yes, it's very nice," I say, smiling merely at the blonde girl.

Kiyoko began to unpack her toiletries into the small drawer attached to the bunk bed. I hopped down from the top bed and did the same, observing the carvings that the drawers had. Names, dates, and funny remarks were scratched out in the middle of it, lots of them left from previous sports or art students that came to this building for a camp of some kind. All were either hilarious, inappropriate, or gentle. But in all, they made me smile.

"So you're in a band, Y/n?"

In my eyes widen in fear. Nobody from the team other than Sugawara, Daichi, and Kiyoko knew that I was in a band. So how did the girl find out?

Hesitantly turning my head, I nod, making out an awkward smile across my face. "Uhh, yeah. How'd you know?"

She sits up confidently and chuckles. "I was taking a glance at your Instagram. You seem to go on a lot of trips around the world!"

I wasn't very used to being confronted about my band. And besides that, being acknowledged she was looking through my Instagram was stressful. If she knew about my band, was it possible she knew about Koshi and me?

"Yeah, I travel now and then." Proceeding to unpack my things as if it was no issue to be questioned, I place my pairs of shoes under the bed.

No matter how uncomfortable I attempted to make my tone, she kept on going. "Oh...that sounds like fun! You must have so many fans. Your voice is great too. I wonder why you've never told them team about Grimlace!"

"Hm, I like to keep my life outside of volleyball private..." I say. "Could you please not tell anybody else?"

My question sure was quiet but clear to her. It would determine whether or not Eclair was a bitch or genuinely a nice girl.

Thankfully, she nods lightly, messing with her nails. "Of course not."

Suddenly, the conversation is put to the side by a knock on our door, sending Eclair, hushed Kiyoko, and me to flinch.

Kiyoko puts a hand on her chest, sighing in relief that the tension was interrupted. "Come in," she tells the person on the other side of the door.

Two boys are revealed; Nishinoya and Tanaka walk in, already dressed down in their "sleep clothes", which consisted of a white t-shirt and shorts. Could I talk any mess about their outfits? Nope! I was planning on wearing the same thing.

The buzzcut bow flutters his eyes at the sight of Kiyoko brushing her hair and quickly grows flustered. "L-ladies! Dinner is on the table." He spoke loud in nervousness. "Do you guys like your room?"

"Tanaka, we've been in here less than ten minutes. I'm surprised you're already gotten dressed!" Kiyoko speaks in a sweet tone that seems to mesmerize him. She finished up brushing the ends of her hair and dusts her hands off on her sweat pants, before looking towards the other two girls in the room: Eclair and I.

We nod and drop what we were doing to exit the room with her. If the odds were in my favor, Eclair wouldn't continue interrogating me during dinner. If so, she would soon find out about Koshi and me from one of the men that walked behind us, flustered they'd

Not soon after leaving, we arrive in the mess hall, where the volleyball club was spread around filling their plates and emptying them into their tummies.

The two boys leave our side to continue eating and we help ourselves to some plates. Today they served simple rice, roasted vegetables, and chicken. Nothing special, nothing utterly disgusting. As I'm picking up my food, I look over to the lunch table that the boys were scattered upon, keeping an eye out for any gray-haired men.

There he sat next to Daichi, eating small portions of the rice left in his bowl. 'Does Eclair's being here mean I'm not allowed to sit next to my boyfriend during dinner?' I think internally, finishing filling my plate.

Kiyoko helps herself to sit right next to Daichi, fitting in with the rest of the third years that sat on the bench next to the second years Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita. Across from them were the first years and the terrible two: Tanaka and Noya.

I stood uncomfortably at the end of the wooden table, looking over it to see if there were any empty seats I could eat in. All that looked back at me were eyes of curiosity and confusion.

It only took a few seconds of staring until someone was nice enough to mention my standing there.

"Y/n! Why don't you take my spot? I'm just about done anyway," Daichi tells me while he got up from the bench with the now empty tray. I look at Daichi, then Koshi, then to Eclair who was now walking towards the lunch table.

I of course didn't want her to take my spot, so I nod and bow politely, before switching places with Sawamura. He pays my shoulder gently, whispering, "you're welcome!"

Kiyoko and Koshi both smile at me, scooting over the slightest to make room for me. I say my thanks for my food and began picking at my rice, listening in on the boy's conversation.

"And then I spent my time practicing on the girls' team since I didn't have anyone else to practice with me. It sure felt like I was a part of their club!" Hinata told us, Eclair sitting down next to him, beginning to eat her food as well. "What about you guys? Did you guys have any rough stories before getting into volleyball?"

Tanaka cuts the air with his pointer finger, motioning for us to pause any conversation until he was done chewing. "I used to be a mega introvert before attending Karasuno!"

"Yup, Ryunosuke was just like Kageyama but worse," Nishinoya commented.

I raise a brow at the mention of that. Tanaka—a boy at the edge of having a breakdown?! I couldn't speak for myself. I too was a short-tempered girl towards the beginning of high school.

Kageyama scoffs, rolling his eyes at the mention of his name. "I'm not that bad, you know." We all knew that was a lie. As much as he denied it, Tobio struggled with his anger issues.

Eclair raises her hand slightly, swallowing a lump of rice. "Don't sweat it Kags, everyone has their embarrassing issues. For instance: I used to be such an obsessive girl in my first year. I'm sure I was a nuisance to many of the people in the volleyball club. Always talking in class and being a ditz was my specialty!"

"What about you, Y/n? Have you ever been involved in volleyball, or is this your first time being a part of a volleyball club?" Nishinoya asks me. At first, I thought of shaking my head and replying with a no, as if my memory of middle school had disappeared from my mind.

After thinking about what to reply with for a second or two, I nod my head slightly. "Hm...in junior high I was on the girls' volleyball team, but I was more of a bench warmer. I only joined the team to be closer to my friends, that's all."

"Aren't you friends with the captain of Seijoh 

boys volleyball club? You know, since you went to middle school with him?"

I look up to the girl who assumed such ridiculous things, Eclair. There she sat with her chopsticks in hand, lips parting slightly. It was crystal clear that she was trying to dig out my history and force me to tell the volleyball club about my personal life further than what I was comfortable with.

Knowing that I was uneasy, Koshi lays his hand gently onto my knee under the table, squeezing it ever so slightly. My heart beats in its cage, anxious at how many ways this conversation could go if I had said the wrong thing.

"...is that true?" Asahi asks, looking at his fellow teammates to observe their reactions. All of them looked just the same: betrayed.

"Eclair, it's best not to assume things about people you barely know," Koshi tells the girl in a monotone voice, making it obvious that he knew her intentions.

'Well, this got awkward fast.'

"It's okay. Uhm— I'm not friends with any members of Aoba Johsai's volleyball members. Where did you hear that?" I ask, setting down my utensils and clasping my hands together. Surely her reasoning has to be good if it meant ruining my very new relationships with most of the boys at the table.

Most of them sigh after my question, placing hands in their chests. "I thought you were a traitor for a second, Y/n! Eclair, you scared us half to death!" Noya whines.

The girl blinks a few times, shrugging. "I'm terribly sorry! I heard it from a girl that goes to Aoba Johsai, she says that Oikawa never stops talking about Y/n! She only knew by looking up your name and finding out she went to Karasuno."

"Seems you have a crush on Y/n, Eclair. You're almost addicted to looking into her past." Kiyoko suddenly made a remark, smirking as she drank a sip of her water.

The girl grows flustered very quickly, blushing. "No! Sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to be disrespectful. I'm only interested in what it's like to live without many boundaries. My father never lets me lay a finger on anything that could potentially ruin his vision of what his daughter should be," an innocent look is spread across her face as she says so.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that Eclair." Yamaguchi makes a sweet comment, ignorant that she was guilt-tripping. I'd never pictured her to be such a manipulative girl yet calm and poised at once.

She nods, continuing to eat her food.

Though it was her fault entirely, Eclair was saddened that what was supposed to be an enjoying dinner turned out to be silent and awkward. I was growing extremely tired of her passive-aggressive attitude towards me, but losing sight of why I came to this training camp was not an option. I don't care how badly Eclair could hurt my feelings, I won't let it get to me.

-

Thank you so much for reading this chapter!! I know it's been so late since I've updated. Pls forgive me! I've just now started school again so things are keeping me from writing. Love you all as always,

- estrxlar

[mdelpin]

Are You Satisfied With Your Care? - Chapter 2

AO3 | FF.Net |Prev: Ch 1

Chapter 2

“Who?” Gray mumbled, still feeling groggy despite the nearly blinding light that had flooded his bedroom.

And on that note. “Can you close the curtains?”

“Hello, I am Dragion, your personal healthcare companion.” The voice repeated, making no move to do as Gray had asked. “I look forward to working with you, Gray Fullbuster.”

“Hey,” Gray offered a half wave in greeting.

Personal healthcare companion? Really? Who talked like that? Although it had a familiar ring to it.

Great, Erza must have found another home care company money-starved enough to send out personnel. But nurses usually met his requests with a quick response. He peered at the man who had introduced himself as Dragion with some curiosity, keen to analyze this newest challenge.

Now that his eyes could focus properly, Gray could see that Dragion had a slender build, with broad shoulders that reminded him of the swimmers he’d once trained with. He had a head of pink hair that jutted out in messy spikes, and green eyes that seemed overly bright, which struck Gray as odd. His skin looked unnaturally smooth for a man who, come to think of it, looked much too young to work as a nurse. Gray shifted his evaluation to his clothes, a pair of black pants and a red button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up at his elbows rather than the scrubs and uniforms that Gray had become accustomed to.

It all left him unsettled, like he was missing something important. He frowned, not liking this feeling of uncertainty and adding a tone of authority to his voice he ordered, “I said you should close the curtains.”

Dragion shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest. “I heard you the first time. If you want them closed so much, I suggest you get up and do it yourself.”

That answer was enough for Gray to get up alright, but certainly not to close any damn curtains. He pulled off the covers and stood up, struggling to stay upright as his knees protested the sudden weight he’d placed on them. Once he felt sure they wouldn’t fail him, he limped over to Dragion, not caring for the moment that he was completely naked.

Dragion didn’t seem bothered by his nudity. In fact, the slight arch of one of his eyebrows made him look downright amused. For the first time Gray could remember, he actually felt self-conscious by the scrutiny of another.

Dragion’s eyes glowed, and before Gray could ask what that was about he heard:

“Scan complete. Log entry - January 8, 2018 - 9:05 am - Morning Scan.”

Gray blinked. What? That was, uhm, different.

Dragion recited a long list of readings, of which Gray only caught the most basic: temperature, pulse, blood pressure and weight. He wasn’t pleased to hear he’d gained twenty pounds since his accident, although he couldn’t say he was all that surprised.

Dragion droned on as Gray puzzled over how he’d gotten all that information. He hadn’t even touched him, and Gray hadn’t noticed him using any device. Who was this guy?

“Results analyzed, baseline acquired,” Dragion said, the glow in his eyes dimming.

He peered at Gray with a frown. “The levels of anti-rejection and anti-infection medications in your system are too low. You need to eat so you can take your medicines and boost your levels back to within normal range.”

With no warning, he picked Gray up in his arms and walked out of the bedroom.

“Hey, what are you doing? Put me down!”

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes, there’s a problem!” Gray snapped. “I’m naked. I can’t just walk around the house like that!”

“Oh? Apologies, I was told that was what you preferred.” Dragion set Gray down gently, keeping an arm on him to help him stay balanced.

Though his tone was indeed apologetic, Gray could have sworn he saw a slight curving up at the corner of his mouth. And as much as he wanted to protest, he knew he’d used that gambit too many times to deny it now.

So Dragion thought he’d gotten the best of him, did he? Gray thought as he reentered his bedroom. Well, he’d show him. He might have lost this battle, but Gray would most definitely win the war. He always did.

But first, he needed to talk to Erza to find out more about his “personal healthcare companion.”

“Do you require assistance getting dressed?”

“No, I can handle it myself,” Gray huffed, moving toward his dresser with great care. It was frustrating how much effort it still took him to get around, but he wasn’t about to give Dragion the satisfaction of asking for his help.

Ten minutes later, they were on their way to the kitchen, with Gray insisting on walking on his own so he could show Dragion he didn’t need him.

A decision he soon regretted. For all his bluster about being able to take care of himself, Gray had put in more time and effort into chasing away his caregivers than he had into his rehabilitation.

While he took all of his considerable medications, he wasn’t all that consistent about when he did it. Physical therapy was something else he’d skimped on, even though he knew he should do it daily. For that reason, he hadn’t built up any stamina and the pain in his knees from walking the considerable distance from his room to the kitchen was making him break out in a cold sweat.

“Use these,” Dragion said, offering him a pair of crutches that had been in his room.

Gray stared at them, feeling conflicted. He didn’t want to show any weakness, but he couldn’t deny he was nearing his limit.

“I could also carry you again,” Dragion suggested, causing Gray to reach out for the crutches.

There was no way in hell he was about to let Loke see him getting carried around like some kind of princess. He’d never hear the end of it.

Dragion followed him to the kitchen, and though he remained silent, Gray could almost feel the weight of his scrutiny as he hobbled along on his crutches. The kitchen still seemed so far away, but he trudged on, fueled by the fumes of his remaining stubbornness.

He heaved a sigh of relief as he finally entered the kitchen and leaned back against the cool wall tiles for a moment’s rest. Loke was already there, and he walked towards him with a smile, holding a stack of dishes he’d removed from the dishwasher.

“Oh, hey Gray, you’re up ear-”

That was as far as he got before dropping all the plates in his hands, resulting in a loud crash that resonated in the otherwise quiet room.

“The hell, man?” Gray grumbled, before noting that Loke was staring past him, his mouth agape in a way that made him look like he’d seen a ghost.

“Dragion?”

“Oh. It’s you.” Dragion said, stopping to study Loke briefly and dismissing him just as quickly. “You should clean that up.”

“H-how are you here?” Loke stammered. He hurried to the cabinets, returning with a broom and dustpan. He set about sweeping up the pieces of broken stoneware, his eyes never straying from the floor.

Dragion didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the crutches out of Gray’s hands, setting them against the wall and maneuvering him around the shards of stoneware to a chair in the breakfast nook. Gray was still too tired to put in more than a token of protest.

“I take it you two know each other?” Gray asked, curious to know what had made Loke react that way to seeing Dragion.

Erza rushed into the kitchen before either man could respond to his question. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I just dropped a few plates, I’ll be happy to replace them.”

“Don't be ridiculous, we have plenty more,” Erza waved him away and upon seeing Gray in the kitchen turned to Dragion with a beaming smile. “You’ve got him up and dressed already? Wonderful!”

Dragion nodded, moving to the refrigerator and peering inside while Erza poured herself some coffee and sat across from Gray.

“Will you stop making it sound like I’m a toddler?” Gray groused. “I could have gotten up on my own if I’d wanted to.”

“Yes, but you don’t want to,” Erza replied, peering into his eyes with an expression that made him look away.

What did she want from him? Of course, he didn’t want to get up. Why should he? His best friend was dead. He could no longer do the one thing he loved most, and everything hurt. What the hell did he have to look forward to? But that wasn’t the type of thing he should ever say to her. Not if he wanted her to go home to Mira.

He struggled to come up with a response, wishing he could just ask her about Dragion now that she was here, but he couldn’t just do that in front of the guy. Could he?

Dragion had collected various items from the refrigerator, placing them on the kitchen island and glancing over at Loke, who was still sweeping up the mess he’d made.

“Leonard, can you make Gray-,” Dragion said as soon as Loke had put away the broom, but he never got to finish his request.

“Don’t call me that!”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

Leonard?

Gray exchanged an amused look with his sister and he filed the information away for later.

“I don’t care, call me anything but that.”

“Fine.” Dragion crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then how about Cheating Bastard?”

Cheating Bastard? This was getting more interesting by the second.

“Seriously?” Loke glared at Dragion, “You know, it’s bad enough he made you look like him. Did he have to make you sound like him too?”

“Who are you talking about? Did you date this guy before Lyon?” Gray blurted, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“Why the hell would I date a bucket of bolts?” Loke’s voice held nothing but contempt for Dragion, but the man looked completely unfazed by the put down.

Dragion turned to Erza. “I was going to ask the Cheating Bastard to prepare some food for Gray, but that seems unlikely. Could I bother you to make something with these?”

“You know damn well I go by Loke,” Loke fumed, but Dragion ignored him, waiting for Erza’s response to his request.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Erza joined Dragion at the kitchen island and they quickly became immersed in meal planning.

“You know what? I need to make a phone call,” Loke said before storming out of the room.

Well, that was intense.

What the heck did Loke mean by calling Dragion a bucket of bolts? And why had he gotten so upset? Gray couldn’t remember Loke ever not getting along with someone. He was pretty much the definition of easygoing. He had to admit that as curious as he was about the whole thing; he was also a little glad. That exchange with Dragion was the most worked up Loke had been since Lyon’s death. That was probably a good thing.

Even though Loke was a year ahead of him and Lyon in school, he’d been in the same dorm as them, and he’d hit it off with Lyon fairly quickly. But Gray vaguely remembered there had been some glitch when they’d started dating. He didn’t know any of the details, though. Between keeping his grades up and staying on top of his game, most things happening around him had been just noise. But now he wondered if Dragion had been a part of that.

Regardless, if Dragion couldn’t get along with Loke, maybe he had nothing to worry about after all.

“Any idea what that was about?” Gray asked his sister as she set a plate with an omelet, toast and cut up fruits in front of him and sat down to watch him eat.

“No, but Dragion is the creation of an engineering student from MIT, perhaps Loke knew him?”

“Creation?” Gray puzzled, “I don’t follow.”

“Oh, didn’t Dragion tell you? He’s an Android, part of an experimental program to develop personal healthcare companions. Sounds like that movie, doesn’t it? What was it called? We watched it in the media room.” Erza tapped her temple with her finger, trying to come up with the name of the movie.

“Big Hero 6,” Gray groaned, realizing now why Dragion’s introduction had sounded familiar. “He might have mentioned it.”

“Isn’t it fantastic?” Erza’s smile was incredibly smug as she added, “We were so lucky to get him.”

“How is that lucky, exactly?” Gray grumbled, starting at Dragion with fresh eyes.

“Oh, I meant for me.” Erza winked, ruffling his hair like she had when they were little and making him even more irritated, if that was possible.

Dragion chose that moment to bring over a glass of milk and another with water. He placed them on the table and pushed a button on his arm. A section of his arm opened up, revealing a compartment that was filled with what looked to be all of Gray’s meds. Dragion selected several pills before closing it again.

“Here you go,” Dragion put the pills next to the water cup and looked down at Gray with a smile that was even more self satisfied than Erza’s had been. “Now eat up, Princess. We have a full day ahead of us, starting with the rehabilitation exercises you’ve obviously been neglecting.”

Did he just call me Princess? Oh, hell no! I’m with Loke, this bucket of bolts has to go.

Gray shoveled the omelet into his mouth, paying no attention to the taste, his mind already working away at this new turn of events.

[twinkleimagines]

✨ Decisions, decisions✨

Summary: Toms best friend Harrison is not very fond of you, like at all. You are a bit on the hood/ side and not as proper as they were raised up around and he doesn’t see you fit to be with Tom. It causes a lot of problems between the 3 of you in the long run. Does Tom listen to his best friend or does he listen to his own heart and stay with you?

“ Y/n c’mon love, we can’t keep him waiting” Tom yelled down the hall towards the guest bathroom. You were getting dressed to go meet Toms best friend Harrison for the first time while they played golf and you were honestly comepletely panicking. You had met his family and they all seemed to love you, but a mans best friend will be the first to convince him whether who he’s picked as a partner is right or not. You had heard nothing but good of Harrison so you assumed he would like you, but it was still scary to think about.

“ I know I know I’m coming babe” you responded back . You looked over your outfit again, making sure you looked good . You had on high wasted blue leggings, laces down the sides of your legs, and a white crop top that was only wide enough to cover your breasts. Your hair was in a partial ponytail on the top, the rest flowing down your back. You had light make up on as well as some jewelry, and peach Nike Air Force 1s to finish the look. ( All thanks to Fashion Nova) .

“ who told you you could look this good? ” Tom asked jokeingly standing at the entrance of the bathroom door. You giggled shaking your bottom at him some before looking back in the mirror, fixing your hair.

“ you don’t look so bad yourself handsome” you replied. He was dressed in a tight fitted purple shirt, a black hat on and black pants that just all fit him so perfectly. He grinned widely before looking down at his feet bashfully.

“ love, you look amazing c’mon we’re suppose to meet him there in 30 minutes”.

“ okay okay I’m done” you said grabbing your purse and your phone, walking up to him. You quickly gave him a peck on his lips before squeezing past him , heading for thefront door.

***

“ Tom I don’t even know how to Golf I’m just going to look like and idiot standing there” you stated as you pulled up at the golf course .

“ it’s okay” he laughed turning the car off. “ you’re just coming with to have a good time darling not a golf lesson”. You nodded in agreement before getting out of the car yourself . You rode in the Golf cart in silence, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

“ calm down love” Tom said placing his hand on your rapidly shaking thigh. You hadn’t even noticed how fast you were bouncing your leg, sort of a habit when you were nervous. You literally didn’t know a thing about Golf at all and here you are having to impress someone while playing.

Sure enough when Tom pulled the golf cart up to the field they would be playing on, Harrison was already there . The field was huge and fortunately you guys had it to yourself .

“Ello mate!” Tom yelled out to Harrison, grabbing his attention. Harrison looked up with a big smile, happy to see the both of you but his eyes instantly adverted to your choice of clothing. You instantly felt like you had made the wrong decision, your heart beating even faster.

“ I’m y/n is good to finally meet you!” You moaned, reaching out to shake Harrison’s hand.

“ likewise” was all he could say, shaking your hand with his. You stood awkwardly had Tom and Harrison talked over their plans on Golfing. They had chatted up while playing, mainly Tom telling Harrison what all the both of you had been up to. They had seen each other only twice in the past two months since you and Tom started your relationship. It wasn’t because of the relationship obviously but because of Toms hectic schedule. You were just more available to travel with him than Harrison ever has been .

Unfortunately though Harrison put the blame on you. He felt that Toms fairly new relationship made him forget about Harrison. His pride and ego wouldn’t dare allow him to actually tell anyone that though so no one was able to tell him otherwise.

“ darling come give it a try” Tom suggested, stepping back away from the golf ball on the ground. You smiled uncomfortably.

“ I don’t know what to do “ you said while walking towards the both of them.

“ it’s easy, right Harrison?” Tom said looking at Harrison. Harrison just shrugged as if he wasn’t too interested in anything that involved you. “ okay so you’re going to stand right here, feet spread apart” Tom said grabbing ahold of your hips. “ arch your back just a little “ he stated pushing on your lower back a little . You arched your back some , pushing your bottom out . You could feel Toms crotch pressed up against your bottom now causing you to smirk.

“ I like this, I just might have to come out here more often “ you grinned looking back behind you. Tom chuckled loudly shaking his head at you.

“ behave” he stated before reaching down grabbing a hold of your hands against the club. “ so you’ll just want to line the end of your club with the ball, and focus on the distance from the ball to your hole” . You giggled thinking inappropriate thoughts from his comment of ‘ balls to your hole’ .

“Y/n stop” he said laughing along with you.

“ okay okay” you said straightening yourself back out before taking your swing at he ball. To everyone’s surprise you had made it into the hole on your first try.

“Ha!” You laughed, turning towards Tom and Harrison. “ what u know bout them boys” you said flipping your hair over your shoulder.

“ holy shit” Tom said standing in shock. Harrison on the other hand didn’t seem in the most appealed at all. The rest of the afternoon went about the same , yoh and Tom joking with each other and Harrison doing his best to avoid any conversation with you.

“ I’m beat man” Tom said standing next to Harrison. You 3 had been out there for a while and the sun was causing you to sweat in places you wish you hadn’t . “ are we all still going back to my place for dinner and movies?” He asked looking back between the both of you Harrison.

“ beeett I’m down” you beamed excitedly. Harrison on the other hand didn’t look excited in the list.

“ I probably shouldn’t I got some things goin on” he stated looking over at Tom.

“ c’mon mate we haven’t seen each other in ages “ Tom said popping his hand against Harrison’s bicep.

“ yeah I noticed” Harrison scoffed out, looking at you. Tom didn’t realize what Harrison was implying but you did without a doubt .

*

Tom managed to convince Harrison in tagging along surprisingly . You had given up trying to impress him, realizing that he was putting you to blame for Toms absences in his life which wasn’t at all the case.

“ thank you!” Tom said grabbing the to go food from the cashier before wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“ babe you don’t have to force Harrison to spend time with me anymore, I can go chill somewhere else” you stated, pushing some of your hair behind your ear nervously.

“ what? What do you mean ‘force’?” He questioned as you walked back to the car. You sighed heavily. Would Harrison not being fond of you jeopardize your relationship or would it just be a set back for Tom?

“ he doesn’t like me Tom” you stated lowering your head. You really hated it . You wanted Harrison’s approval the most and you had absolutely no idea how to get it.

“ what? Of course he does Darling” Tom reassured. “ you’re just over thinking it to much love stop stressing” he said George kissing your temple. You sighed before nodding. You knew Tom was wrong but you didn’t want to press on it any longer than needed. The ride back to Toms place was peacefully quiet, the wind blowing in the both of your hair in his convertible, the sun glistening against Toms soft skin. You never felt so lucky to have such a perfect boyfriend and the fear of losing him was really starting to sink in .

“ he’s already here?” You questioned as you noticed Harrison’s car in driveway.

“ yeah he’s got a key” Tom said getting out of the car. You got even more anxious realizing you didn’t even have time to prepare yourself once again to try to impress Harrison. When you walked in Harrison was sitting on the couch on his phone, next to your pile of laundry that you had forgotten to put up this morning.

“ oh my gosh I’m so sorry” you pleaded with a little bit of laughter, grabbing up the pile of clothes. “ I totally forgot them this morning” you said looking at Harrison. He didn’t even bother to look up from his phone to acknowledge you.

“ it’s fine” he mumbled under his breath. You wouldn’t have even heard his response if you weren’t actually looking for it.

“ okay” you said awkwardly before walking to the bedroom , tossing the clothes down on the bed. You quickly grabbed out a gray strapless romper pajama outfit of yours and a pair of slippers for the movie, needing something more comfortableto wear.

Tom had gotten you this romper specifically because it showed every curve on your body and he loved looking at your body. You made your way back into the built in theater where Tom was already at setting up the food .

“ what movie are you picking out?” He said walking up behind you, his hands rubbing against your bottom.

“ a scary one “ you said with excitement. Horror was your ultimate favorite genre, especially now because it gave you an excuse to sit super close to Tom.

“ oh , now why did you pick this outfit? “ Tom asked, pulling your hips back until your bottom was against his crotch. His bulge was very prominent.

“ oohh “ you said , moving your hips in a slow swaying motion against him. He moaned softly in your ear, as you continued pressing up against him.

“ stop” he groaned out. “ before we end up pulling a wuicky in the bathroom” he stated stepping back from you.

“ who said that would be a bad id-“

“ did you guys forget about me?” Harrison said standing in the doorway.

“ of course not lad c’mon then” Tom said looking over his shoulder. You grinned while you watched Tom trying to hide his very noticeable boner while walking out of the theater. “ get settled I’ll go grab some drinks” he said excusing himself. You and Harrison stood in silence across from each other in silence before you sighed heavily turning around to face the big screen.

“ have you seen ‘It’ the second one?” You asked scrolling through the horror movie section.

“ no, and I don’t particularly care for it neither” he stated hatefully , plopping himself down on one of the recliners. You stood still for a second before turning and looking at him.

“ what did I do?” You said throwing your hands up. Harrison looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. You scoffed. “ it’s clear you don’t like me, so I’m asking what the hell did I do to you?” At that moment Tom had walked in, stopping behind Harrison. You didn’t know if Harrison had noticed Tom or not when he stood up, back still facing Tom.

“ I’m sorry but I just don’t think you’re best for my friend” he stated crossing his arms. “ he’s so Involved In you that he can’t even spend time with anyone else .” You tossed your head back with a sarcastic laugh. “ and then this” he said pointing down to your attire. “ you’re meeting his best friend and dressing like that . You say highly in appropriate things, and I just don’t see what he sees in you” . You could feel a lump in the back of your throat forming, tears seconds away from falling.

“ I see a beautiful, talented, confident, hilarious, intelligent, supportive woman who shouldn’t listen to a word you just said” Tom piped up , startling Harrison. ” look mate you’re my best bud but I am in love with that woman and everything about her . Since we’ve been together I’ve been working a lot and she just so happen to have an available schedule so she was able to come with me” he stated walking back over towards you. “ you just didn’t bother to realize that’s why we haven’t gotten together because you just assumed it was her fault instead of asking me” . At this point Harrison had his head down shamefully .

“ Harrison I’m sorry you don’t like me” you stated . “ but I really really love Tom , and I am so happy with him.” Harrison sighed before nodding .

“ look I’m sorry okay” he stated running his hand through his hair. “ it was wrong of me to judge you right off the bat, I just want what’s best for him, and if he’s happy then I’m happy for him.” Tom walked up to Harrison hugging him.

“ I’m beyond happy man” Tom said looking back towards you. You grinned before grabbing the remote.

“ well now that that’s over can we get back to the movie?” You asked turning towards the screen. 

You all had spent the rest of the night full of laughter, Harrison actually enjoying your presence this time.

🤍🤍🤍 credit to ig model and artist- Malutrevejo for the first photo❤️

[caffeinated-mendes]

desolate palaces - a shawn mendes one-shot

masterlist

previous work

synopsis: (written intentionally in lowercase) you’re the daughter and heir to the throne of your parent’s country. while away on a business deal with a foreign country, visitors arrive, the son and niece of an allied country to yours, shawn and kennedy mendes. you’ve been longing for someone to talk to, and you wonder what could happen in the month that they’ll be there.

a/n: hi! sorry for not uploading sooner, school has been hectic. i love royal fics, so i wrote another one! also, a new updated masterlist is coming soon :) love you guys!

word count: 2k

warnings: none

*if you prefer, you can read this on my ao3 instead of here

today was the day someone would arrive. after months of your parents being overseas, two people would show. you hoped your palace would be less empty and gray, maybe filled with a little more cheer, as maids and cooks didn’t do much. sitting at your vanity, in the expanseful room you occupied, you applied light makeup to your face to give some color back to it. your room, although vibrant, was always dulled from the lighting coming from the windows. where your family’s home was, there was barely a day of sun until summer arrived.

a maid had told you that of the two people coming, they were cousins: one, a little girl, a toddler, and the other, a boy your age. they were of rich parentage and experienced the lifestyle you had, which comforted you. looking into the mirror, your hair was swept up into dutch-braided chignon, and your face adorned jade earrings that complemented your skin. you wore a black, flowy blouse with cuffed sleeves, and plaid pants with combat boots. you liked to mash an elegant style with edgy style, much to the distaste of your mother. but she wasn’t here now, so it didn’t matter.

you couldn’t help but wonder what the boy would look like. creating a certain tanned, blonde-haired figure in your mind, you imagined him arriving up into the foyer with a golden glow emanating around him and his adorable baby cousin, bringing shreds of happiness into your life, at least for a time.

you’d spent the afternoon reading on your nook, overlooking the window that faced the circular driveway. you waited and waited for a black car to turn along the greenery-laden paths, and your heart sank every time when it wasn’t there. finally, after dozing off nearly till the sun set, a rumble of an ignition woke you, and you pressed your hand to the glass as you saw the sleek car pull up to the steps of the palace. placing your navy-blue hardcover on your blanket, you shot up from the nook and ran down the winding corridors, hopping down flights of stairs, and almost knocking over several people until you reached the big, brooding oak doors of the castle.

guards winked at you as you breathlessly waited for the doors to open.  your cheeks were in no doubt flushed from the excitement and running, and you had to hold your hands behind your back to keep yourself from shaking.

after what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened to reveal the exact opposite of what you imagined. he was beautiful, just not in the way you thought he would be. but somehow, you already knew you liked this better. he was tall and pale, with broad shoulders and muscled arms, and flushed cheeks. his smile was charming, and his curly hair sometimes swept into his face, covering his brown-green eyes. looking down, you saw a tiny figure holding his big hand by the fingers. she had the same hair as him, curly as ever, with a beautiful blue bow tying it up into a ponytail. the blue of the bow matched her striking eyes exactly, and you could tell she was going to be quite the fierce lady.

“lady y/n, i present to you, shawn and kennedy mendes.” you bowed your head as shawn took your hand to kiss. his lips were warm, but didn’t stay on your hand very long. his cousin, kennedy, did a small courtesy, picking up her white dress and shyly smiling. it reminded you of how you acted as a child. always hidden away, not being great at confrontation.

you flushed, looking at shawn, and then smiling down at kennedy, “it’s such a pleasure to have you both here. come walk with me, i’ll show you your rooms,” you hated this formal speaking that spewed from your mouth, but years of practice ingrained it into your mind. the guards began to follow you, but you motioned with your hand to stay down on the first floor. taking the winding staircase, you walked with shawn and kennedy to a expanseful white hallway. the crown molding of the walls were delicately carved with golden detailing and the floor, a dark hardwood, was adorned with a blue rug that ran along the halls. 

“kennedy, your room will be first,” you opened the first door on the right with a smile to reveal all that a child could want: board games stacked along shelves that also held countless books. next to it, a child’s bed with a thick, yellow plaid duvet. pillows with embroidered sunflowers were placed neatly at the head of the bed. in the corner, a dollhouse sat collecting dust, as it had been untouched since you were a child. although kennedy didn’t seem to gravitate towards that, as she drifted across the room to a child’s science playset. toy flasks with neon green and blue liquids sat on the black table next to a lab coat, which kennedy put over her dress. 

“she seems to like the science table,” shawn quietly spoke to you, leaning into your ear, as the two of you watched from the doorway.

you grinned, “i think we should leave her to her experiments. we can’t disturb scientific discoveries in-the-making.” shawn nodded and grinned at you, and the two of you turned out of the room. a maid rushed down the hallway to watch kennedy while you led shawn to his bedroom. “your room is just next door to mine. they keep the children's rooms together, but we’re still in the same hallway.” towards the end, on the left side, you led shawn into his room, which was much emptier than kennedy’s. there was a nightstand with blue-covered bed, and a closet. the whole room seemed very unlived in. “whatever you want to put in here, i can ask. i know there’s not much, but i can get anything you like. books, instruments, clothes…”

“thank you, lady y/n.” i think i’m fine for now, but all i ask is, where’s your library and music room?”

you waved your hand dismissively, “just call me y/n. they’re down our hall, the first rooms to the left.”

“thank you.” his smile seemed to make you feel warm inside, and you longed for something that you couldn’t describe, as you didn’t really know what it was.

later that night

you awoke in a cold sweat, hearing knocking on your door. pushing your covers aside, you got out of bed and walked to your door, opening it. there stood shawn, in his pajamas: flannel black and gray pants, and a white t-shirt. “sorry to bother you, but i just heard you calling for someone. and it sounded like you were in pain, so i came to your door to see if you were okay.” at this point you felt very vulnerable, seeing as you were wearing a tank top and shorts, and you didn’t look as put together as you did in the morning. your long hair fell across your back, tickling your neck.

“oh, i guess i had a nightmare,” you wiped sweat from your forehead, “thank you for checking on me, shawn. i’m sorry i woke you up.” you nervously put a piece of hair behind your ear.

“don’t be sorry, i was awake. it’s hard for me to sleep in new beds.” on his face crept a pink flush, and you couldn’t help but think he looked best this way. no fancy clothes, fluffy hair that wasn’t styled.

somehow, a different, less rational part of your brain spoke, “do you want to come in? i don’t think i’m going back to sleep anytime soon.” shawn seemed a little nervous, like he didn’t want to intrude, but you beckoned him in anyway. 

“you have a lot of books and puzzles,” shawn laughed, looking at your shelves. you turned on a lamp, illuminating the room. 

opening your closet and putting on a jacket, you replied, “it passes the time. it’s pretty lonely here.”

“do you have any siblings?” shawn asked. he sat on your nook, looking out of the window, into the bleak, grassy fields. you came out of your closet.

“no, my parents decided they’d have me and then leave me with the maids,” this sarcastic humor seemed to resonate with shawn, as his lips turned the slightest bit. “do you want to do a puzzle?” shawn nodded, looking at the ones on your shelf. getting up, he picked one of a small, suburban home, and sat on your floor. you joined him.

how ironic it was that he picked the one you would’ve picked. it was only what the two of you dreamed of.

“how long are you staying here?” you asked shawn.

shawn shrugged, “i think a month or so. our parents are off to make some sort of deal with a foreign country. they had the great idea of let’s keep our kids locked in the same place so that we can keep an eye on all of them without the extra work! you snorted at that, suddenly so embarrassed that you made that kind of sound. shawn seemed to find it hilarious, doubling over and laughing.

one week later

shawn and you had gotten very close over the past few days. on the rare sunny days, you’d go outside and bring kennedy to pick flowers from the garden, and without the guards seeing, climb trees. the three of you had become quite the team, but sometimes it seemed as though you and shawn really were the ones connecting, watching kennedy have fun from a distance. 

the maids would scold you from down the halls as you stole buttered rolls for dinner from the kitchen, running out in a flurry with shawn, a dozen of rolls in your arms. he was quite the prankster. sometimes, he’d play guitar for you, asking if you liked it. you’d been trained in music theory as a child, so you knew most of the things he talked about.

one evening, after checking that kennedy was asleep, the two of you went into your room, singing together while shawn played the guitar. it was one of your favorite songs he had written. the melody made you feel like you were floating on a cloud, and the words spoke of a love so strong, that even if the two separated, they’d always be connected somehow.

“i love it, shawn,” you’d said to him, while the two of you sat on the window nook. the window was open, and cold air gave you goosebumps along your arms. “the melody’s so sweet and vulnerable-” shawn took your hand in his, and put the guitar against the wall. 

“it’s about you. what i hope for us to be.” shawn looked straight into your eyes, his gaze never wavering.

you quirked your eyebrow, “what?”

“i’ve been in love with you ever since that night i arrived. i didn’t know it, but every morning when i woke up, there was someone to see, something to do.” 

your stomach flipped in on itself, and your heartbeat quickened. you realized that feeling you’ve felt all along, it had been about shawn. he leaned forward, pushing your hair over your shoulder, and kissed you so tenderly and with so much fear that you’d almost told him to stop, if it wasn’t for the feeling of bliss that coursed through your veins.

you gained confidence, kissing him back, and as you separated, your smile felt genuine, like something you hadn’t felt in a long time. he leaned back against your wall of the nook, shutting the window. you leaned into his side, somehow fitting perfectly on the incredibly small space. with a sigh, you put your arm around his neck, saying, “i hope you don’t have to leave soon.”

shawn grinned and pulled you closer to him, whispering, “i never want to leave.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

orbit, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and (maybe) get an education. And Jeon Jungkook could do all those things. It was great. Until the moment he encounters an inescapable gravity, the kind of gravity that had already trapped all six of his friends... but left him out in orbit, circling alone.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (too much) alcohol consumption, slow burn; smut (fem reader, dry humping, m-receiving oral, striptease, cock-warming, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - university!AU; a LOT of buildup; longhaired!Jungkook likes getting his hair pulled a little too much; Jungkook’s POV Technically BTS x reader, but we’re focusing on JK. :)

--

“Hey, you’re Jeon Jungkook, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

The slim, pretty hand slid into her backpack and she held out an iPhone to him.

“You’re friends with Kim Taehyung, right?” Her voice seemed a little hoarse. She was wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “He left his cell at my place.”

Jungkook took it from her, frowning. “Ah, he’s not usually that forgetful.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wanted someone trustworthy to give it back to him.”

That was their first conversation.

-

When Jeon Jungkook entered university, he knew it was going to be different from high school. Bigger classes, more work, and completely monotone teachers as he struggled to stay awake during mandatory studies like Physics. What adult in real life uses physics anyway (besides physicists, of course)? At least he went to the same university all his friends went to, either as undergrads or as graduate students. Being with his friends was awesome.

Being smashed with his friends was even better.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the corner of the party. It was at someone’s house with way too many people in it and everyone only vaguely knew the host. He was celebrating the first complete week of university by getting absolutely plastered (as one does). He noticed her right away because she was wearing a thick black choker with a silver ring on it and an oversized band tee. She wore a gray flannel over it like a jacket. Chunky combat boots, very different from the other girls in their high heels. The sharpest black eyeliner he had ever seen, paired with a red-stained lip.

She was also taking shots.

Surrounded by guys, in some sort of contest. She was throwing them back and two guys were beside her at a table, absolutely fucked. Heads on the table, unable to touch their shots, looking green. She clinked her glass down triumphantly and slammed her hand on the table, curling the other towards her.

Jungkook watched as money was slapped on the table.

She grinned and gathered it towards her, pocketing it in her flannel’s chest pocket.

“Nice try, boys.”

Jungkook looked away, quite impressed. Then Park Jimin fell over at something Kim Taehyung said and Jungkook had to catch the smaller man. He was laughing way too hard that something only mildly funny, but everyone was laughing because they were losing it. The night went on. Someone had retrieved a beach ball from the backyard and was throwing it around the party, making a fucking mess. The beach ball bounced off of Min Yoongi’s red face. He looked incredibly disgruntled and Jung Hoseok lost it, rubbing Yoongi’s nose soothingly even though he wasn’t hurt. Kim Seokjin threw it back into the chaos by headbutting it.

And Kim Namjoon was nowhere to be found.

Jungkook frowned. Also, he needed to pee. He yelled around for the bathroom and someone pointed in some random direction. Jungkook followed it, his bladder ready to explode. Eh, if worse came to worse he could just find a random bush in the backyard or something. He opened random doors, but they either had more people or people in various stages of fucking. Then he saw the open bathroom door down the hallway and two people two feet away from the doorframe.

The two people being Kim Namjoon and the young woman he saw earlier.

Namjoon had his fingers curled around the silver ring on the choker, pulling down as he pressed her against the wall, making out with her exposed shoulder. His beige sweatshirt already had a red kiss print on the collar, paired with a purple hickey. Her palms were pressed flat, snickering as Namjoon rolled his hips into her ass.

Jungkook turned around and decided to find a fucking bush.

-

The second time he saw her, she was wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt, no pants, scratching the back of her head. Black ankle boots with black thigh-high stockings. He was at the dining hall, waiting in line. She sat at the of the tables, across Jung Hoseok. Even though it was the middle of the day, she still wore sharp black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain. She was nodding, one of her hands playing with Hoseok’s pastel tracksuit sleeve. Hoseok was blushing, looking a little sheepish. She just shook her head and said something. Hoseok’s cheeks grew redder and she leaned over.

And kissed him.

Jungkook blinked. The cashier snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Oh! Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

When he looked back, the table as empty.

-

The third time he saw her, he was at the club. He was knee-deep in an argument with Kim Taehyung about how building Iceborn Gauntlet was a lot more useful on Ezreal than Triforce because it allowed you to get off more autoattacks with the slows and helped you survive with the extra armor. Plus, the twenty-percent cooldown! Taehyung was rolling his eyes and telling him building damage was much better.

“Then build Infinity Edge if all you care about is damage!” Jungkook roared.

Park Jimin’s eyes were glazing over. “Guys, can we stop talking about League of Legends? I have no idea what you’re saying anymore…”

She caught his eye because she was wearing a pastel track jacket with a black t-shirt dress under it. And because she was pressed against Kim Seokjin in a booth, making his ears red as he spoke to her. The same sharp winged liner and a wine-red lipstick. She hooked a bare leg over Seokjin’s jeans. The older man jumped, but didn’t push it away. The silver tipped toe of her black boots rubbed against his other leg as she smiled. Her hand was on his navy t-shirt, tracing the embroidered white flowers. She placed her lips against Seokjin’s ear and whispered something. Seokjin’s plump lips opened into a small ‘o’. Her pink tongue slid out from between her lips and she licked his earlobe. Seokjin turned his head sharply to face her.

And she kissed him.

“Hah, here, got you a beer.”

Taehyung clinked the beer bottle down, still pouting. “I still think you’re wrong, but for Jimin’s sake I’ll shut up about it.”

Jimin whined. “Thank God, because I was starting to fucking lose it.”

When Jungkook remembered to look back at the booth, Seokjin and her were no longer there.

-

The fourth time he saw her, Jungkook was pissed.

He had gone to bathroom and came back to no friends. The fuck? Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had just fucking disappeared. Like, yes, Jungkook had to throw up to prevent himself from getting alcohol poisoning and had taken longer than he anticipated, but still. What month of university was this? Whatever, not late enough to get fucking abandoned. He could understand if one of them was trying to get laid, but they were not drunk enough to forget he existed without so much as a text.

Earlier, Jungkook had been dared to shotgun way too many beers in a row compared to the amount of money he won. He still won though, so that was lit.

Anyway!

He had to throw up because it was disgusting. And now he felt much better, except for the fact that his friends were fucking gone. Dumbasses.

This party house was much bigger, much louder, and much rowdier. Whoever owned this house was loaded and they had tons of alcohol. Jungkook even swore he had seen drugs, but his friends told him to be careful and not fuck around. Getting expelled wasn’t on Jungkook’s list of things to do anyway, so he didn’t even bother to look.

Instead, he went on a familiar routine of opening random ass doors to random ass people, either way too drunk to notice him or way too occupied with fucking to care about his existence. Whatever. Where the fuck were those two loons?

And then he opened the door Jimin and Taehyung were behind.

They didn’t see him. Jimin’s head was tipped back against the headboard of the king-sized bed, hands clasping the hair of a woman Jungkook was beginning to see way too often. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, and her head was between Jimin’s legs, her hands clutching his pink dress shirt and Taehyung railed her from behind, eyes closed, white t-shirt drenched with sweat. The rough movements made her shirt flutter. Jungkook spied the white, embroidered flowers amongst the navy folds.

Jungkook closed the door and decided it was time to go home. Fuck those guys.

Not literally.

Well, it was happening right now. Technically.

Jungkook sighed and marched back downstairs, trying to figure out how he was going to scrub his eyeballs to erase the image from his mind forever.

-

Jungkook liked to hang out at Min Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi didn’t live in the dorms because he was older and a grad student. Jungkook often went there to study because Yoongi practiced piano and guitar all the time. It was nice to study to some background music. Yoongi usually didn’t care if he was there or not. He had opened the door in a dark gray t-shirt with a skull graphic, yawning. The shorter man looked even shorter in his baggy black sweatpants.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yoongi mumbled. “Come in.”

Jungkook made himself at home, taking out his papers and textbooks on Yoongi’s coffee table. Yoongi busied himself around the apartment, making himself a coffee before going back to his bedroom which was also a makeshift studio. Soon, Jungkook began to hear synth beats, samples, and Yoongi’s pensive noises he made when he was thinking. This was fine too. Yoongi also often mixed music or was in the middle of making his own. Jungkook missed the piano, but rapper Yoongi was just as cool as piano Yoongi.

Jungkook stayed there for a while. Yoongi bought him lamb skewers for dinner. Sweet.

Maybe he shouldn’t party so much. This was nice too.

-

And now, a week later, Jungkook was staring at the same dark grey t-shirt he had seen that night at Yoongi’s. He was sure it was the same one, because he could see the skull graphic on the center of the shirt underneath her leather jacket. He tilted his head and frowned. She nodded and turned around, walking away from him. She didn’t say anything more.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung’s iPhone and then at her retreating back.

The fuck?

-

So, he waited.

Clearly, she knew who he was, because she had said his full name when they talked. Jungkook was going to ask Taehyung when he returned the phone, but Taehyung had just shrugged.

“Just hanging out. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet it was the end of the semester and…

Nothing.

The next semester started and still.

Nothing.

Jungkook saw her all right, wearing a pink dress shirt over a white t-shirt as she walked to the library, black backpack slung over her shoulder. Not just there, but fucking everywhere, at all the parties, all the clubs, in the hallways, and on his way to class. Wearing the clothes of his friends like they were badges of her conquests. They had to be, otherwise why the fuck would she have them? And none of his friends said anything. Nothing! Obviously, every single one of them had hooked up with this woman and every single one of them acted like they hadn’t. Even Min Yoongi, who was too lazy to even go to most of the parties or outings. How she had managed to bang him was beyond Jungkook.

And the fact that she didn’t even try to hook up with him was beginning to infuriate him.

He knew he wasn’t ugly. Jungkook received enough compliments to assure himself of that (plus his mom always reminded him, thanks Mom). He had drunken sex just like everyone else. It wasn’t like he didn’t make himself available. He was in her vicinity. In her orbit. Always on the periphery.

And she did nothing to acknowledge his existence.

Why?

Jungkook didn’t get it. And he didn’t like it either.

-

“Newton’s law of orbital motion.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glazing over. His professor’s voice was the equivalence of white noise. Why was Physics split over two semesters? Ugh. Whatever. That wasn’t the problem right now.

The problem was, he was going to get laid by this mysterious woman and he was going to do it at this weekend’s party.

Yeah, well, that was as far as Jungkook got with that. How was he supposed to start the conversation? Yo, you fucked all my friends, what gives? What about me? He could try to pick her up normally, but his ability of picking up women was talking to the ones he knew were interested in him first. And she was evidently not that, because he was just a damn asteroid floating mindlessly in her space. Probably not even an asteroid. Just a fleck of space dust.

He groaned and slumped down on his notebook, copying the stupid equation with a grumble.

-

Yoongi had a hickey and Jungkook knew who it came from because she was wearing the same black-and-white long-sleeved shirt Yoongi was wearing yesterday. Yoongi yawned and shrugged his jacket over it, but Jungkook saw it immediately.

What the fuck?

Jungkook fumed into his beer, the plastic cup shaking. How? Why?

And Yoongi again?

She was in the kitchen, chatting with a guy, stretching her arms he placed a mojito in front of her. The action made her shirt ride up and the short, short black shorts became visible. The hem sunk into her soft thighs, just a tad too small. It made Jungkook’s mouth water.

She thanked him before wandering back into the crowd, holding her cup. Ponytail bouncing, high-fiving some guys. Yoongi was on his phone, texting. Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t make it because of dance practice and Namjoon was working on some sort of seminar paper. Taehyung and Seokjin had dragged Yoongi out – “Eh, I have to watch out for you idiots anyway,” was Yoongi’s grumble as he picked up his car keys – and Jungkook tagged along because he was bored. Taehyung and Seokjin were playing was very drunk Twister for some reason and Yoongi had declined – “You’re all idiots” – leaving him with Jungkook. Which was fine, because Yoongi had a comfortable energy about him. Jungkook liked being in silence with him. Yoongi wasn’t drinking because he was driving.

So Jungkook was spacing out, watching her move amongst the crowd. Her free hand absentmindedly flicked up the back of her long shirt – well, Yoongi’s shirt technically – and pulled out her phone. The curve of her ass was clearly visible against the white parts of the shirt. She looked at it and typed something, hands tucked into the sleeves.

Yoongi’s phone buzzed next to him.

Jungkook’s mouth thinned into a line. He snuck a glance at Yoongi who, completely expressionless, responded. She was peering at her cell again and smirking.

Was it possible to pop a vein just by standing there?

Jungkook finished his beer.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook didn’t see Yoongi raising as eyebrow as he stalked off.

Was he overthinking this? Was it a conspiracy? His brow furrowed as he moved closer to her. She turned her head in his direction and her eyes widened.

And she bolted.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Jungkook ran after her, pushing through the crowd, but she was much faster and knew where she was going. Twenty seconds in and he had lost sight of her. He stood in the center of the packed patio, confused as shit. When he got back to Yoongi, Yoongi was listening to something with his headphones.

“Something happen?” Yoongi asked absentmindedly.

“Who’s the girl you fucked last night?”

Yoongi paused. He removed a headphone from his ear. He tucked his tongue in his cheek and looked up at Jungkook, who was putting on his best annoyed face. Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the crowd and then back to Jungkook. He shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

“Why is there a woman wearing your shirt?”

Yoongi frowned. “A shirt’s a shirt. Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?”

Jungkook made a face. He narrowed his eyes as Yoongi gave him a confused look.

“She just ran from me…”

Yoongi shrugged again. “I mean, you look really angry. I’d run from you too if I was a stranger.” He went back to his phone, scratching his cheek with his free hand. “Maybe she thought you were someone else.”

Was he going crazy?

-

The, uh, fifty-seventh? Who cared, Jungkook had lost count now. Once again, he spied her from across the sidewalk, in the crowd of students, holding three folders stuffed full with papers and balancing a coffee and her black backpack. Red crop top with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. At least it didn’t look like she had stolen anyone’s clothes this time… unless that jacket was from someone… Or even the crop top, because it wasn’t like Jungkook knew what her sexuality was to be honest.

Anyway!

Jungkook stopped walking. Their paths were going to cross if she continued walking. She took a sip from her coffee, leaving a red lipstick mark. She scowled at something on her folders. A piece of paper. She clicked her tongue, lashes looking downward, the same winged liner as usual. The paper flapped in the wind and she pushed it against her chest, looking perturbed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Er, hello.”

She didn’t even look at him. She was chewing her lip, thinking. Jungkook had to stand in front of her for her to realize he was speaking to her.

“Oh.” She snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking, tilting her head at him. “Um… Jeon Jungkook, right?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

She nodded. “Kim Taehyung’s friend, right?”

And Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin’s friend, he thought with annoyance.

She blinked at him.

“What do you want?”

To FUCK because obviously you fucked everyone else!

Jungkook didn’t say that. His id definitely wanted to say that, but his superego told him to shut the fuck up. So that left Jungkook scrambling to think of an answer.

“Ah… I just so happened to see you last weekend. At that big party in the white house.”

She blinked and nodded. “Uh… huh.”

She did not seem to remember that she ran from him. Okay, fine. Take two.

“The shirt you were wearing… it’s Yoongi-hyung’s, isn’t it? He asked if I could get it back,” Jungkook lied.

She frowned. “Min Yoongi? You know him too?”

“Yeah. He’s my close friend.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Huh. Alright, I’ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.”

Or fuck him, he thought bitterly. “You could just give it to me.”

She chuckled. “For one, I don’t have it with me. And, for two,” she continued, small smirk on her lips. “I’m not giving it back. Thus, Yoongi and I need to have a little discussion about that.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyway. Gotta get to class now, so see you, Jeon Jungkook.”

She brushed past him.

Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He spun around. She was already ten feet away. Students milled about, hurrying, hurrying. He didn’t have any classes after this.

He followed her.

-

He sat outside the lecture hall. It was an upper-level psychology class. He could see her from the small window in the door and fiddled with his phone. There were less than thirty students and everyone was listening intently to the animated professor. She was focused, writing notes and answering questions when asked. She looked… normal. Just a normal student with normal priorities. She didn’t look like someone who could take shots like a champ and fuck literally every single one of his friends.

Maybe Jungkook was the crazy one.

He frowned, staring at his phone. Why would Yoongi lie to him? Well, it wasn’t like he was obligated to tell Jungkook anything about his sex life. In fact, he was probably thrown off by Jungkook asking him straight out, because who the fuck does that? To top it all off, she didn’t actually have to fuck him if she didn’t want to. If for some reason she wasn’t attracted to him (possible, Jungkook thought), then why was he trying? That was just rude.

Jungkook spun his phone around in his hands. Then he got up and grabbed his bag. His eyes flickered to the door.

She was staring straight at him, one hand under her chin, smirk on her plump lips.

And she winked.

Jungkook froze. What? That was literally the only attention she had initiated with him during all his time at university. The class seemed to be on break, with students talking amongst themselves and the teacher sipping his coffee at his desk. She cocked her chin at him and then raised her phone, tapping the screen. He looked down at his, not even realizing he had a new message.

From Min Yoongi-hyung.

Why are you lying and involving me?

Jungkook jerked his head up, but she was facing the other way now.

He ran.

-

“Kind of weird that you don’t want to come to the party, but, okay, man,” Taehyung was saying. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Yeah, because if she was there, Jungkook could not look her in the face. He also couldn’t look Yoongi in the face either. Not that Yoongi ever brought it up again or even sent another text after that. Jungkook hadn’t even responded to it. He ran a hand through his long hair, staring in the mirror as Taehyung chatted with him.

“Alright, I’m off. Let me know if you decide to show up.”

Jungkook sat in his dorm, shirtless. He didn’t have a roommate – he had one of the few single rooms to himself. He didn’t really want a roommate and none of his friends lived on campus anyway. He liked his own space. Plus, it made fucking someone a lot less awkward if he was living alone. He fell back against the bed. He didn’t actually have a paper to write. He had written it earlier and it was good enough. He just…

Didn’t want to make a fucking fool of himself again.

Jungkook rubbed his forehead. This whole situation wasn’t even a situation. It was him in his head dreaming up stupid shit. It didn’t actually matter. It was only filling his head with confusing thoughts and indecision.

But still… why?

He placed his right forearm over his eyes. The black script tattoo was healing and he was planning to add more soon. He sighed, thinking. He worked out. Had a (more than) decent face. Got pretty good grades (for someone who didn’t try very hard). So, why? Did she really not consider it, not even once? They were around the same people, the same crowd, and never? Not even in a drunken stupor? Jungkook clicked his tongue. Did she have a type? It didn’t seem like it; everyone in his friend group was very different, looks-wise and personality-wise. She was attractive, of course. You couldn’t sleep with that many people and not be hot. Juicy thighs, perky ass, nice shape to her tits. A playful face with a smile that made you fall in love. Dimples on both cheeks when she laughed really hard. Ugh. So cute. Lovely-shaped lips that reminded Jungkook of Jimin’s.

Okay, that last thought was a little weird.

Anyway!

Jungkook sighed again. He sat up, intending to get on his computer and play something. Maybe Overwatch or League. He looked down at his gray sweatpants. Oh.

Well, maybe he should jack off first.

Before he could decide however, there was a knock on the door. The RA? He got up, shaking his sweatpants. Hopefully the bagginess would mask it. Plus, talking with the RA wasn’t sexy, so he was pretty sure his dick would pass out by then anyway.

Jungkook opened the door.

She smirked at him.

Jungkook closed the door.

She shoved her black boot in the opening, preventing him.

“No, you don’t, Jeon Jungkook.”

He backed up, shell-shocked. She pushed the door open and walked into his room. Hair over her shoulders, the same winged eyeliner and red lip stain. The black collar with the silver ring, the same one she had worn the first time he saw her. Pink dress shirt, the one she grabbed as Jimin face-fucked her. White t-shirt underneath, the one Taehyung had worn as he fucked her from behind. Both too big for her, so she wore no pants. Just thigh-high white socks and her thick-soled black boots with the silver tips, the ones she wore when she sat in the booth with Seokjin.

In short, Jungkook’s dick snapped to attention like a scared newbie army recruit.

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and raised her eyebrows at him. Jungkook seemed to come back to reality and slapped his arms across his chest. He was shirtless, after all.

“H-how did you figure out what dorm I was in?” he sputtered. “And w-what room?”

She tilted her head. “Friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend… of a friend,” she said slowly, tongue poking out a little from between her lips when she paused. “I know some people.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly. “W-well, why are you here?”

She kicked his door casually behind her. It slammed shut, making him jump.

“Because,” she drawled, holding up her hand, lowering a finger as she made each point. “One, you decided to speak to me, only to lie to my face. Two.” Another finger went down. “You stalked me outside my Psychology of Anger class. Three.” Down it went. “When you realized you got found out, you ran away. Four.” Down. “Every time you see me walking around campus, I see you throwing yourself in the opposite direction as if you’re being attacked. Yeah, I notice, because you’re not subtle about it,” she added, chuckling. Jungkook felt his ears turn red. “And finally, five.” Her hand was a fist now. “Before that, you gawked at me every time I happened to be within eyesight of you. With your big round eyes, almost as if you were spacing out. Sometimes with your mouth open.” She twisted her lips to one side for half a second. “Kind of disorienting, really.”

Jungkook thought back to all those moments. Her eyes on him when he saw Namjoon press her against the wall. Her eyes flickering towards him when she was at the table with Hoseok. The shift when she was kissing Seokjin at the booth. Oh, God. The half-second before he closed the door, her eye on him as she sucked Jimin off. The light on her face as she was reading Yoongi’s text on her phone, her pupils on him. She knew. She knew, she knew, she fucking knew.

Jungkook’s lips parted. “Then why… why did you run?”

She raised her eyebrow. Then she nodded her head slowly, finally understanding. “Ah. Yes, that time at the party. I thought you were some kind of weird stalker, honestly. I really don’t have time to spend on creeps.”

A shameful shiver slid down his back. She thought he was a creep. Of course, she did, because literally everything he witnessed was sexual in nature and he was fucking ogling the entire time, holy fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the rest of the guys straightened me out.”

Rest of the guys? What? THEY ALL KNEW TOO?

“You just want to fuck.”

God, Jungkook thought. If there is a God, please just open the Earth and throw me in Hell right now.

“I-I don’t–what–that’s preposterous–how would you even know–”

Jungkook was tripping over every word as she stood there, tapping her foot against the ground. He lost track of his thought and made a strange noise of defeat. Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Well, technically, I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I guessed and it looks like I guessed right.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh holyfuckingshitcrap.

If Taehyung or Jimin were witnessing this right now, they would have face-palmed.

She licked her lips. It made Jungkook’s stomach flutter uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I figured it would be better for you to be alone when I told you this.” She shrugged. One shoulder of the pink dress shirt fluttered down, revealing a shoulder. “It seemed like it might have been embarrassing for you, and judging by your beet-red face and tomato ears, I am correct.”

Jungkook slapped his hands on his cheeks. “W-what, of course not, hahaha…”

“You got a tent in your pants, kid.”

He looked down and tore his hands from his face to place them over his crotch. “Erm.”

She chuckled and shrugged again. “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll leave you be then. Just didn’t want things to be weird between us, that’s all. And found out you aren’t a creep. Only a shy, awkward boy.”

Then she turned around and reached for the door handle.

Jungkook crossed the space between them within two steps and slammed a hand on the door, preventing her from opening it.

“Wait.”

He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair had a warm, herbal scent. He could see the slope of the pink dress shirt, outlining her shoulder blades under the thin white t-shirt. He was so close that he could even spy he straps of her pink bra underneath the white fabric. Looked even further and he spotted the point that the dress shirt stuck out a bit from the curve of her ass.

“I’m not… a boy,” he said slowly. His voice came out lower than he thought.

He heard her make a light scoff.

“You expect answers without asking the questions,” she replied, still not turning around. “Not everything will be handed to you just because you’re cute.”

Pause.

“Boy.”

Jungkook knew how she managed to sleep with all of them now. She pressed every single one of his buttons, perfectly, within a single conversation. He placed his other hand on the door, fingers spread out. Took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, relishing in the softness. One of his hands slid down and snaked between the space of the door and her face, cupping her chin. He pushed it up so her eyes met his. Her teasing, perfect eyes.

“Wanna fuck, then?” he breathed against her forehead.

Her lips curved into a slow, foxlike smile. For a half-second, Jungkook thought she would say no.

“Now we’re talking.”

Jungkook had experience. He knew what women liked. But he did not know what this woman liked, because this woman was the embodiment of a fucking enigma. And at this point he was quite sure she had him mostly figured out. For instance, she pressed back against him, ass perched right on his cock, making him gasp. Her hand came up and she slid his fingers up her chin, opening her mouth slowly. He stared, transfixed. Her pink tongue slid out and she pushed two of his fingers in her mouth, wrapping her warm, wet tongue around them.

Sucking on them. Slipping her tongue around his fingers, single eyebrow lifted as she drenched them with saliva, so wet that his cock twitched at the thought of being in that hole. She placed her lips around them and used her tongue to push them to the roof of her mouth, sinking down to his knuckles.

Jungkook really couldn’t breathe, watching his dirty display of power.

Her hand was still wrapped around his. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, strings of saliva snapping as his fingers trailed out with a small pop. Jungkook shivered. The pink dress shirt was sliding down her arms, onto the floor.

She straightened her head and turned around slowly. She kicked the shirt aside, looking up at him through his lashes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was going to beat out of his chest.

“Why… why do you take their clothes?” Jungkook whispered.

She grinned. She looked down at his bare chest. Reached out, fingertips dancing in the air. Her nails slowly made their way up the ladder of his abs, eyes finding his once again.

“I like to remember who did a good job fucking me,” she replied steadily, so calm and cool that it was ruining him, driving him insane. “Let’s see if you’re so lucky.”

She flattened her palm against his toned pecs and let it slide up. Jungkook couldn’t look away from her face. She snaked her arm around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. She pulled his head back roughly.

He whimpered.

Help.

She got on her tiptoes; lips so close. Her other arm came around his waist. She rolled her hips into his. Delicious, sweet friction. Held him there as she dry-humped him, agonizingly slowly, breathing against his shaking lips. The only thing holding him up was his one hand against the door.

“You like that, little one?”

Jungkook wasn’t little. She was saying it to provoke him and it was working even though he didn’t want it to. He tried not to gasp or make any indication that he was enjoying it, but his hips were already moving, pushing back, frantic for more. Her tongue slithered out and brushed against his lips. He moaned. Had he ever been more desperate for a kiss? More desperate for anything more than just simple dry-humping at his fucking dorm door? Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling a little harder.

“What if I leave you here?” she taunted, digging her nails into his side. “What if I let go and leave you here, needy and lonely, without me to take care of you?”

What was going on? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to end up. Why couldn’t he collect himself?

“Please don’t…” he whined. His hand on the door balled into a fist. “Please.”

She kissed him.

Oh, fuck.

Lips so soft, barely any pressure, tongue on his lips. Poking, teasing him. Jungkook moaned, mouth opening and the tip barely thrust in. His whole body shivered as she slid it in and out between his lips. There wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough pressure, not enough tongue, not enough forcefulness. He whined, jerking his hips into hers, trying to suck her tongue into his mouth, but it slipped away every time. Then her lips pressed fully against his and she mouthed the words on his lips. He knew what she said even before the sound touched his ears.

“Want more, little one?”

Yes. Oh, please, yes.

But he couldn’t say it because his lips were trapped against hers. She softly kissed him, over and over, hardly deep enough or passionate enough for his liking, infuriatingly not adequate and all of it on purpose. She pushed him into the room, away from the door, making him stumble. Jungkook could only break apart for half a second to choke out one word – “shoes” – but she was already removing her arm from his waist, zipping down her boot and kicking it aside, and then the other, pushing his head down to hers the entire time so she could make out with him.

Then, she pushed them apart.

He nearly tripped, forced to take several steps back. He was panting, out of breath as if he had been running for a long time. Jungkook lifted his head to her crafty expression. He could be the dominant one. He knew he could. But she wasn’t letting him. She had him in the palm of her hand, even now, even in this slight second of breath, the single moment of sanity, and then it was gone because she was lifting her shirt, the white t-shirt crumpling and thrown aside, landing on his desk, on his laptop. The pink, polka-dotted bra molded to her sinful breasts, so innocent-looking. They matched the tiny pink polka-dotted panties that pressed into her skin, complimenting her white thigh-high stockings that clamped around the softness.

His brain?

Broken. It was frozen at this image of this hot-as-fuck woman dropping to her knees and crawling on her hands towards him. Each movement a little closer, a lion stalking her prey and he was the frozen antelope, unable to run. She stopped right in front of him, straightening. And then, the smallest detail, spreading her thighs so he could see the faint wet spot between her panties. He could see her cleavage, the curve of her breasts as she trailed her hands up her thighs, her stomach, bending around her breasts, up her neck, tracing the silver ring and black leather of her choker, mouth opening to her wet tongue, a single fingertip touching the end.

“Wanna be in here, little one?” she murmured around her finger, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck yes.”

If Jungkook could gather his last two brain cells, he would have sounded a whole lot less desperate, but at the moment those two brain cells had abandoned their post, leaving him an absolute mess as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and dragged them down, down, exposing his leaking cock out in the open. Fuck, she looked so smug and he couldn’t do anything about it as she leaned in with a soft kitten lick, wiping it away.

“Let me ask you something before I start,” she purred.

Jungkook blinked. “O-okay…”

“Were you upset that I fucked all your friends and never, ever asked you?”

His eyes widened.

She smirked and wrapped her lips around his cock. His brain cells came back from their lunch break to Jungkook screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, deep, slow, wet. Tongue rubbing all around him, hands gripping his hips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t want to mess with her pace so he curled them into fists, sinking his nails into his palms as he moaned, feeling the head smack the back of her throat, muscles squeezing him hard and tight. Because she had been so soft and teasing less than ten seconds ago, Jungkook was not prepared for this wild intensity. She was literally deep-throating his cock like nobody’s business and he was trying very, very hard not to bust his load within seconds because that would be fucking embarrassing as shit. He forced his eyes open to look down at her, panting.

“S-stop…” he pleaded, but she wasn’t stopping. “P-please, stop, I want to f-fuck you.”

The slightest tick of her eyebrow. She stared up at him. It was too sexy. He chomped down on his tongue, anything to feel something else than the overwhelming pleasure from being in her mouth.

“P-please… want to fuck your p-pussy…”

She slowed, still making eye contact with him. She didn’t completely stop until she was all the way down his cock, saliva dripping out and down his balls. She didn’t get off him. Just watched him, pulsing her throat around his dick. Jungkook got it. She wanted him to beg. Her throat squeezed him extra hard and he whimpered. He bit his lower lip.

Pride? What pride?

“Please…” Oh, God, was that him? That wretched, pitiful whine, so wrecked and barely anything happened. “Please, let me fuck your pussy. Let me inside you. Let me pleasure you.” She blinked slowly. Not enough. “You made me wait so long…” His eyes raked over her sensual body, his skin burning. “You fucked them all and made me wait, made me want you, made me think about you all the time, made me crazy knowing everyone had you, but me.”

What even was this? He had never begged like this in his entire life, but he was ruined and destroyed by this beautiful woman whose red lips were around his cock.

“I want you to use my cock and make you cum, just for me. Want you to watch me when I fuck you, want you to moan for me, want you to say my name with those lips.”

Her eyes sparkled. She drew back, slowly. His cock achingly, deliberately popped out of her tight, wet mouth and he cried out softly, almost regretful that he didn’t ask for her to finish him then. She got off her knees, sliding up his body, his cock hitting her stomach and then her thigh, smearing saliva and pre-cum on her smooth skin. She pursed her lips against his, the tiniest peck, and he could taste himself, a slight hint of his own cum.

“Alright, Jungkook,” she said slowly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a condom. Of course, she had a condom in her bra. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

She smacked the warm foil packet against his chest.

Fuck, the way she said his name. So velvety, so wanton. She moved past him and Jungkook turned around, condom in hand, watching as she faced him, unhooking her pink bra. It peeled off her body and dropped to the floor, tits bouncing. She pressed her hard nipples in between two fingers and tugged, giving him a little gasp and a peek of her pink tongue from between her plump lips. He followed, swallowing hard as she backed up to his bed, hopping up and sliding back. Jungkook made it to the end of his bed and watched as she linked two fingers on the sides of her panties and pushed them down, lifting her legs up and together as she slid them off.

Thus, providing Jungkook with a shockingly clear view of her glistening pussy lips.

She lowered her legs and spread them. Wearing nothing but those white thigh-high socks and the black choker around her neck.

“Holy fuck.”

She smirked. “Come here, little one.”

At this point, he was beginning to enjoy this nickname. Either that or Jungkook was so horny that she could call him anything and he was still going to climb onto the bed, chewing on his lip, hand over hand, breath hitching as he neared, smelling her arousal. His eyes flickered to hers. She tilted her head and nodded. He bent down and licked her slit, long and slow, groaning as her sweet, thick taste coated his tongue. Oh, if only he had more patience to eat her out. Instead, his cock was dripping an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his sheets, so he got to his knees, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on, somewhat grateful for it so that he wouldn’t explode within two seconds of being inside her. He positioned himself at her entrance, lifting her legs.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

He shifted his attention to her face. He felt her hand reach down and guide him to the correct angle.

“Look at me when you go in,” she said, smirking.

His eyes widened as he pushed inward, slow, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her warmth cover him and shake him to his core, her eyes boring into his, satisfaction glittering in those orbs as he gasped at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. Breathing so shallow Jungkook felt like he was ready to pass out, thrusting the last of his cock inside her so he was fully buried, his entire length squeezed by her pussy.

She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his long dark hair. She pulled lightly and he moaned, lips trembling.

“You like that, little one?” she murmured, lips against his cheek, licking him lightly. “You like your hair pulled?” She kissed his chiseled jaw, clenching around his cock.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “A l-little…”

Her tongue wrapped around his earlobe, playing with his earrings. He could feel her hard nipples rub against his chest as she pressed her body against him. She pulled again and he moaned into her ear, shuddering as she paired the pain with the pulse of her pussy.

“I like the sounds you make,” she whispered. “Let me mark you, little one.”

He swallowed, still unable to move because he was in her gravity now, lost in her smokey voice.

“Yes, please…”

She kissed down his ear softly, lips against the pulse point under his ear. She bit his skin, sucking hard, rolling her hips onto his cock. His eyelids fluttered as she bit him, hard and unforgiving. Sharp, wet sounds. He whimpered and she ran her tongue over the bruised skin before kissing down further, finding the spot where his neck and shoulder connected. She pressed her lips against it and he swallowed in anticipation.

“Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah?”

He could feel her lips form the words she was spoke into his skin.

“Your cock feels nice inside me.”

She bit him again, hard. His eyes rolled back into his head, cock swelling at the compliment and the pain radiating through him as she pulled on his hair, sucking his skin, rutting her wet, tight pussy onto his cock. The euphoric ecstasy was unlike anything Jungkook had ever felt before. It was just a hickey and some hair pulling while he was cock-deep into a woman, but it was so much more, the soft kitten licks as she soothed the irritated flesh, the rubbing of his scalp, and the throbbing around his cock.

She finally let him go, leaning back. Her hair fanned out on his pillows, lipstick smeared, tongue between her teeth. He really thought the first time was going to be at some shitty party where he was half-drunk and confused, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. Instead, she cocked her chin at him, giving him an open-mouthed smirk as she looked up at him from his bed.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He began to move, starting slow and deep, gasping at the feeling. Her eyes drifted from his face to his cock moving in and out of her, then back up to his face. She was letting him do as he wanted, he knew. Jungkook could tell from her expression, giving him the reins for once. He scooted up, still fucking her leisurely as he lifted his hands and touched her nipples with his fingertips. He pushed them in a circle, rubbing them, closing his eyes. They were hard but soft, so fun to touch as he thrust his cock inside her. He pinched them and he whimpered as her pussy squeezed him. He did it again and felt it again. He cupped her breasts and did it again, pulling a little his time. She made a breathless moan and he opened his eyes, seeing hers shrouded with lust. He held her nipple between his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to rub the hardened nub. She gasped softly, whispering his name.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jungkook panted, feeling his hips thrust harder, spurred on by her noises. She pressed her head against his pillows, crying out as he increased his pace, rubbing her nipples harder.

“Harder, little one,” she purred, rolling her hips into his. “Want to feel your cock in the deepest parts of me.”

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she moaned with a teasing smile as he let go, placing his hands back on the bed for leverage. His long hair brushed into his eyes but he didn’t care, ramming his hips into her, hearing the harsh, loud slap of their bodies. She hissed out his name, tipping her head back as she lifted her arms above her head, clutching his pillows.

“That’s it, Jungkook,” she panted as he pounded her into his bed, feeling her pussy tighten and throb around him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

He did, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

“Need you to cum for me,” he growled, surprised at his own rawness. “Need you to cum all over my cock. Need to feel you.” A hint of desperation juxtaposed with his order. He wanted her to fall apart with his cock, wanted to watch her unravel as she came with his cock.

She cracked her eyes open and wrapped her legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him. Oh, fuck. Eyes that said, go for it. Do it if you can.

He rammed his hips into her, pounding into her over and over, so hard the bed squealed at the force, so deep her fingers gripping his sheets were white, her moans filling his room, imprinting in his memory.

“A-ah, Jungkooooook.”

His name dragged out, mixed with a moan, cock twitching at her back arching, tits bouncing with his thrusts.

“So good, so good… Gonna cum for you, just for you, Jungkook...”

And then he felt it, the heated, throbbing squeeze and the instant squelch of liquid dripping out and sliding down his balls, soaking into his sheets. The scent of her sex so heavy and sweet that he was drunk, slowing so he could feel her pussy pulsating around him, vibrating his entire length.

“W-why do you feel so good?” he whined, shoving his cock so deep she jerked up his pillows. She chuckled, but he kept going, back to his rough pace, because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to cum. He needed it now, deep inside her pussy, her scent on his skin, her foxy eyes on him.

“You wanna cum for me, little one?” she panted out, licking her lips. “Want to feel your cock get milked by my pussy?”

Jungkook sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as he nodded fiercely, unable to respond. She reached up and he knew what was coming and he wanted it, wanted it so fucking bad. His long hair was smacking him in the face but she collected it back, only leaving a few strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Fill me up.”

And then she yanked on his hair, hard, tearing a gasp from his lips. The pain shot through him, igniting every nerve, the pleasure of her pussy clenching him as he kept going, slapping his hips into hers, feeling the pull on his hair every time he sank in. Jungkook was doing it to himself now and he loved every second of it. The familiar tightening coiled inside him, so sharp and sudden that he almost screamed as he came, the orgasm racking his entire body as she pulled his head back with his hair, moaning with him as she came again, throbbing as he shot into the condom, cock jerking with force against her walls.

His whole body shuddered as the aftershocks faded. Oh, shit. He was winded, throat dry. Someone must have heard. Holy fuck. Jungkook had never cum so hard in his entire life.

Her hand let go of his hair. She rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes, his body rising and falling as he exhaled.

“Did I live up to your expectations, little one?”

-

The next day, Jungkook ran into Taehyung at the usual coffee spot. It was the weekend, so Jungkook hadn’t expected to see him. Taehyung looked super hungover and barely alive as he ordered a coffee in his raspy, deep voice.

“Damn, are you dead?” Jungkook asked playfully as Taehyung stumbled to him, trying not to spill his coffee. Taehyung hated coffee, so he must have really needed it for some reason or another.

“Probably. I forgot I have a paper due on Monday.” He took a sip of it and made a disgusted face. “I hate this shit.”

Jungkook spied her walking up to the counter. She rubbed her chin and ordered a tea, handing over her card. She was wearing a white crop top, black baseball cap, and short leather jacket.

And his gray sweatpants.

Taehyung squinted at his neck.

“The fuck happened to you? Someone punch you in the neck?”

Jungkook slapped a hand over his hickey. “Er…”

She breezed past them, not looking at them as she hurried along, checking her phone for the time. Taehyung whipped his head around, recognizing her instantly. And the sweatpants.

“Yah! She told me she was going to study!” He whipped his head back to Jungkook, who looked away immediately. “Study your dick, apparently!”

“Uh…”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and grumbled as he walked away.

“Well, get in line, bitch.”

--

sister story: meteor, m | myg

-

masterpost

-

note: Yes, I am aware League of Legends has changed the entire item inventory for 2021 preseason. I haven’t played the new patch since I wrote this. Just pretend this all happened before the preseason patch, okay? lol

[peonybane]

Agape and Pragma: Chapter 9

Pairings: OT7 (BTS) x Reader

Word Count: 5.3 k

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Sci-Fi, Crack, Smut

Chapter Specific Notes: Fluff, Smut…. 

Warnings: Some MxM stuff (but like not a whole lot, it’s very fluffy), some light spanking, D/s undertones, threesome, knotting, female receiving oral, very, very light degradation if you can even consider it degradation, I think that’s it.

Summary: Your entire world had be torn asunder by just one lab test. Time heals all wounds, but does it really? What will it take to feel whole again?

Hybrid Types: Peacock Jin, Serval Yoongi, Golden Retriever Hoseok, Gray Wolf Namjoon, Scottish Fold House Cat Jimin, Great Dane Taehyung, and French Lop Eared Rabbit Jungkook

a/n: It’s finally here... the smut! Please enjoy. This is something I’m not used to writing, but please enjoy it. Thank you as always to @ropeseok, my beta reader and to @mintedmango​ helping me with a small detail and for the emotional support.

<— Previous (Chapter 8)

You were woken up by the sound of your stomach growling. Turning over uncomfortably, you looked over at your alarm clock. It was only 8 pm. Dammit. You slept most of the day away, not that it really mattered. Your eyes were slightly swollen, your throat was raw, and your stomach made a hellish noise, letting you know that it wasn’t about to let you get away with not feeding it without repercussions.

Groaning, you decided that you might as well take the chance of running downstairs and grabbing something to eat, preferably something that went well with the bottle of wine you planned on smuggling out of Yoongi’s wine rack. Rubbing your eyes, you tossed your legs over the side of your bed, standing up on wobbly feet. Groggily, you walked over to your door, opening it. You weren’t ready for the sight before you.

Jimin was sitting on the ground across from your room, his knees up to his chest and his head resting on them, eyes closed as if asleep and his ears twitching slightly on occasion. You were frozen there, not breathing. The sound of you stepping back woke him (but the opening of your door didn’t, somehow), his head shooting up. He stared up at you with the sweetest, saddest eyes you had seen. You held his gave for a moment too long. 

The world seemed to stop in that moment as you found yourself drowning in Jimin’s weepy eyes. He whispered your name and you bolted into action. You tried to close the door, but Jimin was faster. He leapt to his feet and stuck his hand between the door and the frame, making him yowl in pain. Instantly you found yourself apologizing, yanking the door back and reaching for his hand. “Jimin! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!—“

You checked his hand brushing over the reddening skin with your fingertips and blowing cool air on it. Jimin cut off your panic but muttering, almost crying, “I’m sorry.”

You paused looking at him again. The air was heavy between the two of you. “Can… can I come in? I want to talk to you and apologize.” 

Just as you were about to reply, your stomach made its needs known once more. To your mortification, Jimin laughed. Your face flushed as you yelled, “H-Hey!”

“Luckily I figured you’d be hungry and what better peace offering than,” he leaned behind himself and pulled out a brown paper bag that you somehow missed while he was on the ground, “your favorite mac n’ cheese from Magic Shop.”

You bit your lip, eyeing the food, the smell drifting to your nose and making your stomach rumbling. You took the bag from him. “I accept the peace offering of the world’s best pasta and processed dairy.”

Jimin giggled and followed you into your room. He went to close your door but you said, “No. Keep it open.”

The air between the two of you turned tense again and his tail flickered nervously, he nodded, leaving your door slightly ajar. 

You gave him a smile and sat down on your bed, pulling out the familiar purple container from Magic Shop filled with your favorite mac n’ cheese and some plasticware. Digging in, you happily scarfed down the sweet but tangy taste of the cheese and pasta; Jimin cautiously sat down on the bed across from you. 

He watched you in silence, gauging your mood as you finished your food with a happy little moan, a sound that sent him tense and slightly bristling. You blushed, looking away from him. “Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be.”

Placing your food on your nightstand, you took a moment thinking through your choice of words. “But I’ve been the one giving you the go around. With all of you. Because I’m stupid and don’t know my own feelings. I just… I don’t know.”

Jimin reached out and grasped your hands, making you look up at him once again. His jaw was set hard. “You’re not stupid. We’re part of the problem. We’ve been… giving you mixed signals, never telling you just how crazy you make us. We love you. With every fiber of our being.”

“But how can it work, Jimin? I… I don’t want to lose any of you. I don’t want to make any of you feel unloved. I don’t want be the center of all of your attention. I don’t want you guys to force yourself into a relationship just so you can have me. I—“

“You worry too much.”

Both you and Jimin turned towards your bedroom door as Namjoon pushed it open. There was something dark and feral in his gaze as he looked at both you and Jimin. For a brief moment, he turned around and closed your door, locking it. Your throat felt dry as you looked up at Namjoon. He stalked closer, his ears pressed forward. His eyes seemed to grow darker and it made something clench involuntarily inside you.

His voice rumbled as he said, “We love you. And we love each other, just maybe not in ways you think are obvious.”

Namjoon sat down on the bed in front of you and brushed back a strand of your hair. “You care so much for all of us. And you don’t even know how much we wish we could give you more. And this will work. With all eight of us. Let us prove it to you: that we can love each other, just as we love you.”

He shot a look over at Jimin and out of the corner of your eye, Jimin crawled across the bed towards the two of you. Your gaze followed Namjoon as he leaned towards Jimin, who already had a strange glazed look in his eye. Namjoon smiled, his dimples revealing themselves and his tail wagging a little as he reached out to cup the back of Jimin’s neck.

You stopped breathing, too enraptured by the scene before you as Namjoon kissed Jimin. It was gentle as first, Jimin immediately melting into the other’s touch. Namjoon smirked a little at the soft purring sound that rumbled in Jimin before capturing Jimin’s lips once again, sucking on his plush lower lip. Your breath hitched as Jimin let out a small moan.

Slowly, Namjoon pulled from Jimin, who practically chased after his lips. You let out a little gasp as Namjoon stalked towards you. Frozen in place, all you could do was watch him, an inferno building inside of you. He leaned in towards you and rubbed his nose against your own. “Please. Let us show you all the love we have for you. Today, it’s about you. And you alone.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you. It was shocking; your mind went blank. All that mattered was this heat, rolling off him in waves and the warm, oaky smell that permeated you. His lips were soft, and strangely sweet, like he had eaten a candy bar before coming up to your room. You closed your eyes as he threaded his hand through your hair, letting yourself relax into the kiss. 

The feeling of Jimin’s lips grazing your neck startled you, making you pull back from Namjoon. A throaty growl left Namjoon’s lips for a moment before he gazed at the hazy look in your eyes. “Kiss her.”

Jimin smiled as Namjoon guided you to his lips. Jimin’s lips were just as plush as Namjoon’s but there was underlying tenderness there that, even as gentle as Namjoon’s kiss was, wasn’t there. You sharply inhaled at the feeling of Jimin’s rough tongue swiping at your bottom lip as Namjoon nuzzled your neck, breathing heavily into your neck. Namjoon huskily whispered in your ear, “Tell us what you want.”

A swell of emotion filled you and you choked on a sudden cry that threatened expose all of your hidden, buried secrets. “Please… just, love me. Take all my doubts and worries away.”

Both of them smiled against your skin. Jimin cupped your jaw, slipping his tongue into your mouth as Namjoon ran his hand up your thigh, making you whimper needily. Namjoon whispered once again in your ear, “Alright, little one. We’ll do just that. Jimin.”

Jimin pulled away at the sound Namjoon’s voice. You chased after his lips, clearly not done in the least bit with the kiss. Namjoon laughed breathily. “It’s alright, little one. We’re just going to get comfy for a moment before spoiling you.”

Jimin was the first to get off the bed, looking at you sultrily, even though he was dressed in an old stained t-shirt and ripped sweats. Namjoon moved as well, sitting himself behind you, kissing your neck as you watched Jimin with curious and rapt attention. Jimin smirked as he began stripping, making a real show of it.

Damn him and his sexy body. You blushed heavily and looked away, feeling a bit self conscious. Namjoon nipped at your earlobe and whispered, “Don’t look away from him, little one.”

There was something in his tone that made you heed his command. You turned your gaze back on Jimin, who was now watching you intently as he ran his hands down his already naked torso (When and where did he throw his shirt off to?) and towards the waistband of his sweats. As he worked the sweats down his thighs, you were oddly intrigued by the way his tail twitched and flicked as it shimmied out of the stretchy hole in his pants for it. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes grew large in shock; he was already mostly hard. 

Worrying your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but look away again, which earned you a smack on your thigh from Namjoon. You looked back at him as he smirked. “I told you not to look away from him.”

“I—I’m sorry….”

Namjoon nipped at your neck again as Jimin joined you two back on the bed, this time, sitting right in front of you as he ran his hands up your calves and under your pajama bottoms. Namjoon whispered in your ear, “Little one, in this situation, you are to address me as ‘Alpha.’ Understand?”

You swallowed, followed by a clench deep in your center. “Y-Yes, Alpha.”

“Good girl.”

Over your shoulder, Namjoon shot Jimin a look, silently communicating something between them. Jimin nodded, almost as if he understood, and in a way, you suppose, he did. Jimin slipped his hands up and over your thighs, trailing them towards the waistband of your pajama bottoms, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. He slipped them off and over your thighs, his lips leaving a gentle trail of kisses down the inside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

As soon as they were off, Jimin started doing the same treatment with your panties, kissing his way down the other leg. It momently distracted you from the touch of Namjoon’s warm palms as they slipped under your t-shirt and over your stomach, coming up to cradle one breast in each hand. You bit your lip, letting your head fall back as Namjoon lovingly squeezed and massaged your breasts all the while Jimin rubbed his way back up your thighs after having removed your panties.

Jimin began kissing you, a hunger you eagerly returned, his hands working your t-shirt off of you as Namjoon continued to play with one breast, his other hand skimmed its way south over your burning skin. A gasp left your lips, a sound that Jimin eagerly swallowed up as Namjoon cupped your mound. 

You mewled as Namjoon smirked against your neck, starting to slowly stroke your pussy lips. Jimin giggled, commenting something about ‘cute.’ Though you weren’t really sure as the feeling of finally being touched down there after so long was more than distracting enough. With his rough tongue, Jimin started licking his way down your neck and nipping and sucking hickies into your skin on the way down. You started squirming in their hold, one hand threading through Jimin’s hair, which earned you a soft purr, and the other clawed at Namjoon’s arm that pinned to him as he started adding pressure to the hand cupping your pussy.

“Ji-Jimin… mmmmph… Namjoon!”

A hiss left your lips at the gentle, but quick smack to your pussy as Namjoon growled in your ear. “Alpha, little one. Last warning.”

“Y-Yes… I’m sorry, Alpha.”

Namjoon growled, “Go on, Jiminie. Do what you’ve always wanted to do.”

Before you could question Namjoon’s words, he tangled one hand in your hair, gripping it harshly as he turned your head for a brutal kiss. A part of you wanted to challenge, but you were so love starved that you were left weak, desiring everything that he could give you. 

And you took it all. 

You barely noticed Jimin’s hands leaving your body as Namjoon subjugated you with just a kiss alone. But in the next moment, Jimin made sure you wouldn’t forget his presence again. 

The sensation of a warm, wet, and rough tongue gently lapping at your lower lips left you squealing into the kiss, your body tensing from the sudden feeling. The feeling was so foreign, yet so familiar you weren’t sure how to process it. You felt Jimin giggle against you more than heard him as Namjoon kept you in place, one hand still in your hair, the other pulling one of your thighs open so Jimin could feast on you.

Jimin teased your pussy lips with a finger before spreading them apart, giving your clit gentle kitten licks, causing you to whimper and shudder, pulling at the hair around his little folded ears. Your reactions emboldened him, you could practically feel him smirk against your lower lips, as he gave your even harsher licks.

Namjoon let go out of your hair, instead, concentrating on keeping your thighs open, almost leaving bruises on them. You pulled away from the kiss for some breath, panting as you looked down at Jimin… which you quickly realized you shouldn’t have done. 

The sight alone made you clench around nothing. There he laid on his stomach in between your legs, rutting slightly against your bed as he continued to bury his face in your pussy, his tail at attention. It didn’t help when he gazed up at you and Namjoon with those sweet eyes. Namjoon chuckled into your ear. “You like that, little one?”

Before you could respond, Jimin took your poor little clit in his mouth, sucking on it. A strangled moan left your lips and behind you, Namjoon thrusted himself, almost uncontrollably, against your ass, his erection hidden under the fabric of his shorts. But damn. He was sizable. 

You leaned your head back against Namjoon’s shoulder, look up at him with large, needy eyes. He stared down at your darkly, his gaze growing darker, a growl rumbling in his chest against your back as Jimin inserted a finger into you, making you letting a small cry.

From between your legs, Jimin pulled away from your throbbing clit, “You like that, princess?”

You nodded, barely trusting your voice. Namjoon harshly nipped at your neck. “Answer him properly, little one.”

“Y-Yes! I like it!”

Jimin smirked, starting to thrust his finger into you, slowly working you open as he returned to licking and suckling at your clit. You continued to mewl and moan as he seemed to have the time of his life eating you out, if his tail was any indication. Behind you, Namjoon continued to hold your legs open, even as you fought his hold, all the while whispering dirty, naughty promises into your ear. “You like that? You like the way little Jimin suckles on your sweet lips? You want more?”

“Y-Yes….” The dark look in his eye gave you one last warning. “Y-Yes, Alpha. More.”

A sound, something akin to a purr, but deeper and yet, somehow off, reverberated through his chest. “Good girl.”

Namjoon let go of one of your thighs, instead now removing your hand from Jimin’s head and threading his own fingers through his hair and tugging on it, hard. Jimin automatically hissed, earning himself a look from Namjoon. You weren’t sure of what look Namjoon was giving him, except that whatever it was, it made Jimin blush and look away submissively. “There, there, kitty. I think you’ve been a good boy up until now. Do you want to go first?”

Jimin’s eyes lit up giving away his excitement before he looked over at you, shyly. He crawled his way up to you and Namjoon sat you up, pushing you forward a little to remove himself from bed. You didn’t follow him, instead you found yourself frozen in place under Jimin’s strangely predatory gaze. He grazed his lips against your own. “May I?”

Barely above a breath you replied, “Please.”

Jimin shot you one his usual sweet smiles before coming in to kiss you. It was a short kiss, granted, but it just felt so right. Like this was where you were meant to be. He shifted you towards the center of the bed, laying you down on your plush duvet. Jimin shyly smiled at you as he took one of your pillows and looked at you pleadingly. You tilted your head, not quite following until an almost naked Namjoon joined you two on your bed again (he was stripped down similarly to Jimin; just his boxers) and lifted your hips, letting Jimin slip the pillow underneath your hips. With you pelvis raised and the both of them looking at you, you felt shy, being all exposed.

You tried to cross you legs, to hide from their burning gaze, but they would have none of that. Namjoon grabbed you thigh as he laid next to you, stroking it as he looked at you lovingly. He kissed you gently, whispering against your lips, “You’re absolutely beautiful. Don’t hide.”

“He’s right. Absolutely divine. And all ours.”

You looked over at Jimin, who had completely stripped off his boxer. Your eyes bugged out at the sight. He was on the smaller side: short, average girth, but veiny and delightfully curved. He was perfectly smooth down there, making the pinkening skin look even prettier, especially as his stocky cock head started leaking pre-cum. Jimin smirked as you bit you lip, but the sight of him, for some reason, all exposed, helped you relax. Namjoon got back on his knees leaning in towards Jimin. “Let me have a taste of our little one.”

Jimin’s gaze turned docile again as Namjoon cupped his neck, going in for another kiss, this one far more aggressive then before as Namjoon forces Jimin’s lip apart, his tongue reaching in to taste the remnants of you on Jimin’s tongue. You watched in awe as Jimin moaned into the kiss and his cock jumped against his stomach. It seemed like you weren’t the only one to appreciate it as Namjoon reached down as grasped Jimin’s cock, stroking it. Jimin pulled away from the kiss and gasped, his head lulling back. Namjoon whispered something into his ear that you didn’t hear, but from the way Jimin blushed, it was certainly something naughty. 

Namjoon let go of Jimin’s cock and Jimin took a moment to calm down. Then they turned their gaze on you. Namjoon tilted his head, smirking. “Looks like someone enjoyed the little show.”

You blushed at his words, looking away. “But now it’s her turn to play.”

Jimin stalked towards you; you felt like prey under both of their predatory gazes. He gingerly took your legs and parted them, coming close enough to let his cock nestle against your clit, making you tense, but pleasantly so. He got down on his elbows, caging in your face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You ready?”

You nodded. “Mmmhmm. But what about—“

Namjoon laid down next to you two, interrupting you. “I’ll go after Jimin. If you can handle it.”

You blushed at the look he gave you, this in turn made Jimin giggle before he gave you one last sweet kiss. Reaching between your bodies, Jimin grasped his cock, pushing himself into you. You gasped at the entrance. God. It’s been for fucking ever. Jimin groaned above you, teeth reddening that plush bottom lip of his. Once he was seated inside of you, you throbbed around him, getting used to the stretch after so long. He certainly wasn’t going to be the biggest of your potential lovers, if the hard on Namjoon was sporting was anything to go by. But he was certainly pleasantly shaped, the head of his cock curving right into your g-spot.

After a moment, you kissed up his neck and reached up to rub the curled cartilage of his ear up so you could whisper into his ear, “Please, Jimin. Move…. Please, make me cum.”

His other ear twitched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. His gaze turned dark. Namjoon laughed, “Little girl, I think you’ve awoken the tiger inside him.”

As if that really was a challenge, Jimin growled, pulling himself up so that he rested on his knees and the balls of his feet, his arms hooking under your knees. He pulled back until the tip before harshly thrusting back in, hitting your g-spot spot on. You cried out at the intensity, tears already threatening to escape. It’s been too long….

Namjoon leaned over you and started kissing you as your hand shot out, grasping his hand as a way to ground yourself. As if the sight of Namjoon touching you was some sort of trigger, Jimin practically turned feral, thrusting into you with a purpose. And that single purpose was to make you cum. You would cum because of his cock now, or not at all. 

To your embarrassment, you couldn’t help the moans and half screams that left your mouth as all you could do was lay there and take everything Jimin was giving you as he battered away at your g-spot, his pelvis striking your clit simultaneously. Namjoon growled happily, touching you all over as he licked, nipped, and sucked on your breasts. The erotic words fall from their lips didn’t help the inferno that was threatening to explode from within you. Namjoon would whisper naughty things like, “Little one, do you hear that? The sound of him fucking you raw?”

All the while Jimin would growl, “You’re mine, princess. Don’t fucking forget that!”

It was all too much. You barely had the chance to warn them before you were cumming. Hard. One hand in your hair, pulling while the other was clawing at Namjoon’s arm harshly, your legs wrapped around Jimin’s middle, taking him prisoner as your walls spasmed and a wave of euphoria washed over you. Your orgasm eventually dissipated with a strangled whine, which seemed to have triggered Jimin’s own orgasm as he let out a yowl, his hips twitch against yours as he filled you with ropes of his cum.

Namjoon smiled at you, his dimples poking through as he sat up. He first kissed you gently, wiping the sweat from your face before switching over to Jimin, kissing him just the same as your legs finally released their death grip on him. Jimin hissed as he pulled away from you, you whimpered in return at the sensation.

Jimin practically dive bombed for the spot next to you, opposite of Namjoon. He gave you a sweet, crescent  eyed smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply. Namjoon nuzzled into the both of you making you giggle as you pulled away from the kiss. “How are you feeling, little one? Want a break?”

You couldn’t help but glance down, noticing that Namjoon was still sporting quite the hard on. “What about you?”

“I told you before, today is about you and your pleasure. I’ll wait if you’re done for the da—“

“No! I want you, Namjoon. I love you! I love the both of you!”

Something changed in his gaze. Those sweet dimples were gone and the gaze of an Alpha appeared. “Is that so?”

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Then get on your hands and knees so I can breed you like my bitch.”

You couldn’t help the clench you pussy gave, causing some of Jimin’s cum to leak out of you. His gaze grew even darker as he took a deep inhale. He all but ripped his boxers off himself. You didn’t get as good of a look as you’d have like of his cock (which all you could tell from a single glance was big and was surrounded by a trimmed smattering of hair) before he roughly grabbed you and flipped you over. He smacked your ass, leaving you a little dazed. “I said,” another smack, making you yelp. “On your hands and knees.”

You scrambled to your hands and knees, even going as far as to raise your ass even higher for him. Namjoon made a rumbling noise of satisfaction as Jimin moved to sit in front of you, his boxers back on (When did he do that?). Namjoon started rubbing his hands down your ass to your pussy as Jimin ran his hand through your hair, kissing you. 

That kiss was all that was needed to help you relax enough (and to distract you) for Namjoon to start sliding into you. You pulled away from the kiss, letting out a high pitched whine. Namjoon was big. Long with a medium girth. Now, you realized why, despite the fact that Namjoon was the Alpha of your ‘pack’, he let Jimin go first: it would have been absolutely impossible for you to take him after so many years. 

You found yourself tearing up a little. Jimin kissed away your tears. Namjoon seated himself in you all the way, you found yourself breathing hard as he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah… just need a moment. Dammit, Namjoon. Just how big are you?”

Jimin giggled. “Oh, don’t say that. He’s not even the biggest of us.”

“What?!”

Jimin laughed some more. From behind you, Namjoon chuckled himself. “Now, now, Jimin. No need to tease her. After all, I think this is all she can handle for right now. I hope my little one can handle it when I knot her.”

You swallowed at those words. Knotting? He was going to knot you? You pussy betrayed you and clenched, making Namjoon groan. Jimin giggled as he stroked your cheek. “Looks like princess likes the idea of you using her pussy like that.”

The dirty look you shot Jimin was short lived as Namjoon gave an experimental thrust. Instead of a snarky comeback, a high pitched whine left your lips. Jimin smirked at the fucked out look already on your face as Namjoon began building a steady pace. Namjoon was surprisingly quiet except for the absolute filth leave his mouth (“Such a good girl for me.” And, “I can’t wait to paint your pussy in my cum.”). Though, to be fair, you were more than compensating by the moans and whines leaving your mouth as his hips repeatedly smacked your ass.

Jimin continued to kiss you as Namjoon battered away at your pussy and digging his nails into your ass. It was all too much. Eventually, your arms gave out with a cry, but luckily, Jimin was there to catch you. He whispered filth in your ear almost as bad as what Namjoon was saying as you clung to him for dear life.

You were getting close again. It was all too much but not enough. You were too distracted by the cadence of Namjoon’s hips smacking your ass to hear the scuffle that was happening right outside your door. But Namjoon knew. And boy did he like the idea of the others listening in as he fucked you hard.

Suddenly you found yourself being pinned down against Jimin as Namjoon changed the angle of his thrusts, practically making you scream. Namjoon nipped at your earlobe before asking, “I bet you want all of us don’t you? You want us just as much as we want you. You want all seven of us to use you. To love and to fuck you.”

You couldn’t help the clench your pussy gave at his words, drawing out a grunt from him. Jimin giggled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want us to go find them and invite them in, don’t you?”

Again, your pussy clenched and Namjoon gave your ass a smack in warning. Namjoon continued, “Unfortunately today’s not the day. Your pussy is far too excited and abused to take any more than this? Isn’t it?”

You whimpered, words barely beyond your comprehension as your orgasm was just within reach.  Namjoon threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back so he can whisper against your lips, “Soon. Very soon. I promise.”

Those words were all you needed to throw you over the precipice. You cried out as your orgasm wrecked through your body, just as strongly as the last. As you winded down from your orgasm, you were barely coherent of Namjoon letting out a string of curses before stilling above you. You then felt the most curious feeling. It was like… he was getting bigger at the base. 

Then you remembered his words from before: he was knotting you. For some reason, you thought it was be bigger, but his knot didn’t get too much bigger. It hurt a little as it pressed against your sensitive g-spot. But it was far from unbearable. Then you felt him flood you with his cum. It was uncomfortable but at the same time it felt… strangely good. 

Namjoon collapsed on top of you, putting both your weight and his on poor Jimin. “Yah! Get off me!”

You and Namjoon laughed as he wrapped his arms around you, rolling you both off of poor Jimin and onto your sides. You were still firmly pressed against Namjoon as you experimentally tried to wiggle around. He smacked your thigh before lovingly kissing your neck. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, little one. I might just fuck you again. And I won’t be as nice this time.”

The blush on your cheeks was instantaneous causing Jimin to laugh. You pouted in response which just made both of them laugh. Once he had calmed down, Jimin cuddled up to you, laying on his side, facing the both of you. First, he leaned over you and kissed Namjoon, the sound of their lips right by your ear making you blush. Then once they pulled away from each other, Jimin kissed you first, licking at your bottom lip. In retaliation, you nipped at his tongue, earning you a smack on the hip from Jimin.

You pulled away from the kiss and pouted, making Namjoon giggle behind you. As Jimin laid back down, with a smile on his face, Namjoon cupped your face, turning you slightly towards him to kiss you this time. This a sweet and gentle kiss, leaving you wanting more. When he pulled back, he stroked your cheek before whispering, “We love you.”

You choked up a little. “I love you, too. All of you. I love you and Jimin. I love Jin and Hobi. I love Jungkook, the little shit,. I love Tae and Yoongi.”

Something inside you finally broke open. It was the crystal cage that you kept your feelings in: you could look, but not touch. The little bursts of emotion that forced their way through the cracks of your shattering crystal cage were nothing compared to typhoon that engulfed you. 

You laid there, crying out your feelings, your relief, your revelation. No words were needed as Jimin and Namjoon continued to lay there with you, holding you, kissing you, pouring their love into you, as you cried. This was love. This physical act, was the sledge hammer than you needed to break that crystal cage on your heart. It was finally free. And you were never going back.

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

Next (Chapter 10) —>

Agape and Pragma Masterlist

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Waiting for Love (request)

Summary: See photo

A/N: I’m low key in love with Keanu’s short hair and leather jacket combo from a few years back, so forgive me ahead of time. I left some room to continue this just in case because I kinda fell in love with it, even if it took me forever to get rolling. Might be boring but I’m taking it slow for once, okay? (lol)

Warning: Extreme adorable-ness from Keanu. Slow burn., female reader

I groaned as my alarm blared, telling me to get my ass up and ready for one of the biggest art shows I’ve ever done. It wasn’t big in terms of the quantity of work I was presenting, but big in the sense that this was a more ‘esteemed’ show. Not to mention, the other artists showing their work had been established longer than I have. I befriended one of the artists, Becca, while setting up for this show. She took me under her wing and helped me get over my fears of today, as she had done this show a few times before.

“Y/N, you can’t freak out too much. You deserve to be in this show. Some of the people attending this are just rich assholes who’ll be drunk and staring at pieces, so don’t be intimidated by them. You’ll know when a fellow creative mind shows up, I promise, some will show up.”

You can say I was overjoyed when I found out her exhibition would be next to mine but separated by dividers like everyone was. Something about having someone familiar around eased my nerves slightly.

I reluctantly got out of bed, showered, changed, and readied myself face today. I ate something small to hold me over until I could find food at the show, knowing my stomach wouldn’t enjoy being full while nervous. I leant down in front of my cat’s food bowl, shaking it so it filled up. The noise summoned him, the cat rubbing up against my pant leg and leaving a trail of gray fur. I brushed it off as best as I could before scratching his head.

“I’ll be back later, Sage,” I cooed at him, my nerves easing slightly as I watched him push his face into my hand.

I reluctantly got up, straightening the pantsuit I decided to wear. I was nervous enough about the show, I wasn’t going to make it worse by wearing a dress and fighting with it all day. I got an Uber to the show, slightly bummed that I couldn’t ride my motorcycle to the show because of my attire but I didn’t want to look like a hot mess when I got there.

I arrived extra early, like all the artists were supposed to so that we could make sure everything was in order. I killed time by sitting at the small table in my exhibit, where we had business cards and other takeaways set up. As I scrolled through my phone, I heard the soft click of heels as Becca rounded the divider and entered my exhibit. I stood up to greet her, smiling at her bubbly, excited expression.

“Very professional,” she greeted, admiring the pantsuit.

“I didn’t want to sweat through a dress and risk being uncomfortable,” I sighed.

“It wasn’t a knock, Y/N, you wear it well,” she smiled comfortingly. “Is there anyone you know coming to the show?”

“I invited a few family members, but I won’t hold my breath,” I shrugged.

“Well, I have a friend coming that I have to introduce you to. I think your work and his tastes align perfectly,” she stressed with a flash of her hands.

“He, huh?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, he’s a great guy but I’m taken,” she brought her left hand up to point at her wedding ring. “You could definitely give it a shot, though,” she winked.

“I think I’ll pass,” I blushed.

“You won’t be thinking that when you see him, promise,” Becca laughed behind her hand.

“I’m already not looking forward to it,” I shook my head at her.

“Trust me, I know he’ll love your work. He’s coming by around one I think. If you need food or something, I’ll send my assistant out to get you whatever you need,” she offered, knowing we couldn’t really leave our exhibits and that I didn’t have an assistant.

An hour later, the event opened, and people poured in. I watched these well-dressed people as they passed me, some bouncing aimlessly between exhibits and some following a strict order. I placed myself near the entrance of my exhibit, greeting people as they entered and viewed my work, but the exchange never lasted for more than that. Becca was right, either a lot of these people stared and pretended to enjoy themselves or they simply came for the works more than the artists. I didn’t mind, since I didn’t have to talk much, and the show would still look good for my experience.

Two hours later, I was growing increasingly bored as I had only found one person interested enough in my work to strike up a conversation. While it only lasted about five minutes, it still gave me a bit of confidence that someone had enjoyed themselves. I checked my phone, sighing when I realized I still had six hours left here. I secretly hoped Becca’s friend would be as interested as she said he’d be. I heard low volume screeching from Becca’s exhibit, before realizing it was Becca, herself, making the noise.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” I heard Becca shout excitedly.

“Of course, how could I miss it?” a deep voice responded, which I assumed belonged to her friend.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation to ease my nervousness about meeting this mysterious friend of hers. Her voice pulled me back out of my head again as she increased volume.

“Dude, I have to introduce you to Y/N! You’re gonna love her work!” she told him.

“So, you keep saying, but I haven’t even seen yours yet, Becca,” the voice chuckled.

“Please, Charlie, you know what my art looks like,” she huffed, grabbing his arm and tugging him out of the exhibit.

“I honestly regret telling you that I had a friend who called me Charles,” he sighed.

I had turned around as I heard their footsteps rounding the divider, making myself look busy.

“Y/N!”

My head shot up as Becca shouted my name. My eyes flicked over her excited face before landing on the tall man next to her. I recognized him immediately. He was dressed simply unlike many people here, donning a well-worn leather jacket, a V-neck t-shirt, jeans, and brown boots. His dark hair was on the short side, but long enough to tell he hadn’t done anything to tame it after taking his helmet off, the one he currently held in his hand. His facial hair was grown enough to look as equally as scruffy as the hair on his head after a run in with the helmet. This was one of the biggest names in Hollywood showing up to a prestigious art show in plain clothes, and he couldn’t look any more endearing. I blushed as I realized I had been silently staring at the pair.

“Keanu,” his face broke out into a shy smile and stuck his hand out, “it’s nice to finally meet you. Becca has been talking about you non-stop for weeks.”

“Y/N,” I responded, shaking his hand. My blush deepened at his words, “It’s uh, it’s an honor to meet you Mr. Reeves.”

“Please, Keanu is perfectly fine,” he corrected.

Yes, he is.

“I’ve gotta get back to my side, so have fun you two,” Becca announced her exit and left.

I cleared my throat as she disappeared, “Um, so, Becca didn’t tell me her friend was famous.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way,” he smiled almost sadly. “Tell me about yourself,” he requested and stepped closer to the hung artwork.

“I think I can tell you that through the art, might make it more interesting,” I answered, motioning him over to the first artwork on the wall.

Keanu squinted as he took the painting in, his eyes flicking over the title, Freedom, and back to the painting. A smile formed on his face, as he deciphered the swift strokes and textured landscape. I nervously wrung my fingers together before speaking.

“The landscape is actually—” I started.

“PCH,” he finished, finally looking back at me. “You ride, don’t you?”

I nodded, “I do. It’s just so freeing and liberating, hence the title.”

“I completely agree,” he agreed, his eyes lighting up as he held his helmet up. “I ride on PCH often when I’m home.”

From there, conversation flowed easily as we made our way through the rest of the works. Keanu insisted on going through every work I displayed, the delight evident on his face. I knew, then, what Becca had meant about knowing when someone genuinely loved your work. After what felt like no time at all, but what was actually almost two hours, we approached the last work I had displayed.

“Ah, yes,” he sighed happily as he took the painting in. “This captures the true essence of our modern society. We are always so concerned with watching the bustling of others from behind all types of barriers. Meanwhile, we sit alone and in silence as our existence becomes meaningless,” he blurted out with his voice filled with mock amazement. A grin appearing on his face and his hand, naturally, came up to hide it from view.

I laughed along with him, “Oh, yea, totally. Exactly what I was going for, Keanu.”

“Or, you know, it’s just a cat staring out of a window,” he chuckled and brought his hands up to gesture to the painting.

“Your interpretation was way better than my intention,” I was smiling so widely that my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Nah, I was just joking,” he waved his hand, his smile never fading.

“Art is meant to be interpreted by the viewer, no?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“I can’t argue with that,” he nodded, “So, what’s its name? I assume the cat is yours?”

I nodded, “His name is Sage, I rescued him from a kill shelter a few years ago.”

“That’s admirable.”

“It broke my heart to see that he was scheduled to be put down. I had to take him, and he’s been a blessing in my life,” I continued, staring fondly at the painting.

“Do you prefer cats?” he asked curiously.

“I love both cats and dogs, cats just happened to fit my lifestyle better,” I clarified. “You?”

“I think I’m more partial to dogs, but I love both, too,” he answered, his voice cracking slightly as we’d talked for so long.

“Would you like a water?” I offered and pointed to the small table I had been at earlier. I walked slowly over to it as I continued talking, seeing him follow me.

“I can grab us a couple drinks from…” he trailed off as he pointed into the walkways, where every other aisle of exhibits had its own bartender. Unlike a lot of characters he played, his voice and eyes contained hints of emotion.  

I understood what he meant but declined anyway, “These are free,” I nodded my head towards the water, biting back a smile. “Plus, I don’t think the artists are allowed to drink.”

“Right, of course,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping slightly out of embarrassment as I grabbed two water bottles. He didn’t let his body language show it, but his slightly crestfallen expression said enough.

“I’ll let you buy me one later, though,” I spoke cautiously as I handed a bottle to him, hoping I had read the situation correctly. His eyes snapped back up, meeting mine while taking the bottle from me. His fingers brushed mine, sending tingles up my hand and causing me to retract my hand quickly.

“I’d like that,” he answered softly, a blush creeping up to his cheeks but hidden partially by his beard. The corners of his mouth lifted as he brought the bottle to his lips, forcing me to tear my eyes away from the way his lips wrapped around the plastic. “We should ride some time,” he spoke again after pulling the bottle away from his mouth.

My throat hitched at his choice of words, making me cough as I drank my water. Luckily, I didn’t make a fool of myself and spray it everywhere, solving the problem with a simple clearing of my throat.

“Motorcycles. We should ride our motorcycles together, some time,” he clarified, the hint of a smirk from before more prominent now.

“Yea, yea that’d be awesome,” I nodded, flustered that he caught on to the reason I choked.

“Maybe after this?” he gestured to the art around him.

“Uh, it ends at seven, but I’d have to go home and change,” I waved my hand down across the pant suit and heels.

“That’s not a problem, I’ve got time,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to take your stuff down?”

“Nah, the show is on for the whole weekend,” I flapped my hand dismissively at the hung art.

“Well, I’d be happy to take you home afterwards,” he offered.

“No, no I can’t ask you to do that! I can take an Uber home,” I held my hands up, trying to quell any urge he had to help me.

“I mean, you’re not asking; I’m offering. Plus, unlike the Uber…I’m free,” he placed his hand on his chest, looking at me with raised eyebrows. His eyes were playful as he used my earlier excuse against me.

I took a deep breath through my nose, my mouth betraying me and curling into a smile as I released my breath, “Okay.” My voice was softer than intended, but I continued anyway, “I appreciate it, Keanu.”

He laughed, waving his hand at me, “I’m being selfish, honestly.”

“Yea, okay,” I snorted. “You should definitely check out the rest of the show, though. They have Rembrandts over there,” I directed, pointing to the other side of the building.

He feigned hurt, gasping dramatically, “Are you getting rid of me?”

“Yes, actually. There are a lot of great works here, too many to waste all of your time in my little exhibit,” I waved my hand out to the rest of the building.

“Oh, please,” he huffed, now understanding how other people feel when he deflects compliments onto other people. “The art isn’t what’s keeping me here, now.”

My face heated up fast under his gaze, but the blush quickly turned into a deep red out of embarrassment as my stomach growled loudly in the mild silence. My lips retracted into my mouth, hoping that he hadn’t heard it, or that he didn’t think it was something else.

“Hungry?” he questioned, trying to hold back a chuckle but failing.

“I’m fine, really.”

Keanu gave me the sassiest, most done look I’ve ever seen. He snatched my phone off the table, handing it to me, “Unlock it.” I hesitated. “Please,” he urged.

I did as he asked, then felt him slide the phone out of my fingers. I watched him type briefly, then bring the phone to his face and stick his tongue flat out of his mouth. He tapped on the phone again a few times before handing it back to me.

“I’ll go look at everything else, only if you promise to text me whatever you want me to pick up for you,” he stated smugly.

“Fine,” I half-groaned. This man and his kindness were going to be the death of me.

“Excellent,” he laughed, his adorable grin plastering his face again. This time, he didn’t hide his smile behind his hand and I was able to admire it, before he caught on and closed his lips while blushing at the appreciation. “Keep an eye on this for me, yea?” he asked, setting his helmet on the small table.

“Sure,” I nodded, placing my hand on top of the helmet in confirmation.

“Thanks,” he expressed as he moved to place his hand on the helmet, too, but stopped as he felt my hand under his. His hand lingered for a second, but it was withdrawn as he began stepping away, out of the exhibit. “You better text me,” he pointed my way, “or no drinks for you!”

Keanu disappeared around the divider and I heard him speak briefly to Becca. He must have told her about the potential drinks later because she gasped loudly and squealed at whatever he said. I bit my lip, smiling at the thought of what was to come. I hadn’t been out in a while, let alone on a date—if that’s what this even was. I just hoped that I wouldn’t do anything dumb or anything that would be unpleasant to him. I glanced down at my phone, unlocking it and seeing his contact as simply, Keanu, with the ridiculous picture he had taken. My fingers hovered over the screen before finally typing and sending an order.

“You got it,” was his only response before I made myself busy with the people around me.

I slid my phone in my pocket and waited patiently for him to come back, whenever he was done. These next four hours couldn’t go fast enough.

CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cuttlefishcatfish @anita-e-taylor @samanthagraceg @futuristic-imbecile @beyondantares

[centuryofdean]

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 1

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+ At this point in the story there isn’t much, but later on the M rating will come into effect.

Warnings:: Language and Violence

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Laurel

Another grunt escaped me. The hundred pound deer that I just shot and dragged three miles back to my truck was enough to have me sweating profusely in the chilly November air. By how long the sun had gone down, I was guessing it was just after eight. As soon as I got this big guy home and hung him in the garage I would go to bed and dress him in the morning.

My little home in the woods was far enough from town that I didn’t leave it very often if I wasn’t working. Which was fine by me, it left me more time to sleep. The ache that tore through me from all the hard work had me almost unable to make it to the shower. As the hot water cascaded down my back, all I could think about was dreams I might have.

Ever since I turned nineteen, sleeping was my favorite part about life. When I fell asleep I almost always had dreams. Not all of them were pleasant, and I would refuse to sleep for days; but most of the time I dreamed of a handsome man with longer black hair, dressed somewhat oddly, but strong and mysterious all the same.

A little more than half of my pleasant dreams were of him. He had been popping in and out of my nightly adventures since I was old enough to understand was a dream was. It was as if I were watching a movie. I never got to speak to him, and any time I tried to yell at him he would acts as if he never heard me at all. Sometimes it was awkward, because I could see him bathe. Other times it was saddening, to see him throw things to the ground and scream at the top of his lungs.

It wasn’t until I was nineteen that he actually paid me any attention. It is the only one I can always remember vividly—at least what we spoke of. Sometimes if I try hard, I can remember his face, every feature. Usually I always ended up with a headache when I tried to remember what he looked like. His face is always like a distant memory. Something that if you think real long and hard on it will appear at the tip of your tongue, but is always just out of reach.  

The first time we properly met, he was stomping through the forest, and I was in a tree with my bow in hand about to let the string fly and hit a giant buck in the heart. My fingers just released, the arrow about to hit true to the aim taken. Someone stepped on a branch and the beast jumped and trotted away, the arrow sticking to the tree behind it.

I screamed in anger, jumping from branch to branch down the tree. Feet storming through the forest, I ripped the arrow from the bark and turned to become face to face with him. I was taken back, amazed that he was standing right before me. A similar expression was captured on his face.

We both shouted ‘You!’ at the same time. After the shock I started in.

“Why on Earth were you stomping through the woods like an everyday barbarian?! I almost had that buck,” I poked him in the chest.

The man starred at me in shock, “Barbarian? How was I to know you were… hunting? You were hunting?”

“Of course I was hunting,” I muttered, pointing to my bow and clothes. I was mildly surprised that my camouflaged jeans were replaced with a tuff brown pant of sorts, and I was wearing a long sleeved green… tunic? When my hand touched my face, it came away with dirt instead of the makeup I normally wore. Even my bow was different. Instead of the small compound I usually used, I was using an elegant black stained wooden long bow. It was a dream though—anything can happen in dreams.

He started to walk around me, hands behind his back while he looked me up and down. “Why would a… female,” he paused, “whatever, be hunting? I do not know of any race of females that hunt for game.”

A scoff left my lips, “I will have you know, many women of all races hunt! It isn’t just for men you sexist pig!”

An equally offended scoff left him standing in front of me again, “Why do you dare to compare me to a filthy animal? And impose that I would be fornicating with it?”

With the way he was speaking and the clothes he was wearing—along with my own—I came to the realization that I was not in a familiar area. Was it even the same time period?

“…Where are we,” I asked hesitantly.

“You are hunting in lands that you do not know of? That is very… unusual,” he muttered. “We are in Mirkwood of all places it seems.”

“Mirkwood? What state?”

“State? What is a state?”

“Alright what country are we in?”

“Country? We are just outside Rhovanion I suppose, I don’t know if that is a country or not.”

We both starred at one another, walking in circles and assessing. After a while I stopped and sat on the ground against one of the trees. With the sleeves of my new shirt I wiped the dirt and mud as much as I could from my face. “So why are you finally paying attention to me,” I asked, looking over the bow I had acquired when I finished.

“I could ask the same of you,” he replied just as quickly.

“What do you mean?”

He sat across from me fiddling with a dagger. “When I sleep, I dream of you a lot of the time. Though oddly, you did not see me. I always saw you since you were small.”

The same thing was happening to him? It was obviously a dream. Something I am making up as I go so that I could have something interesting going on in my life. How come he has never aged, but I have? Probably yet another oddity of my dreams.

“The same happens to me,” I whispered, “I would yell and scream for you to talk to me, but you always kept on going about your business like I wasn’t even there.”

That dream seemed to go on for days. The sun never set but I sat in the forest with him and told him of some of the dreams I have had of him. He told me most of the ones he had of me. We came to the conclusion that the dreams were not really dreams, we were seeing the others’ lives. Even thinking about it had me giggling. Of course they were all dreams. No matter how much he told me that he was seeing my life, or I was seeing his; it was all simply unreal.

After that first dream, I had more of not being able to have him see me again. It was as if I were ‘seeing his life’. From then on it was like a weird switch. Once in a blue moon we were able to actually sit and talk to one another. I enjoyed those times. Sometimes we were in his ‘world’ and others we were in the real world, almost. We would always end up outdoors, at the park or meadow, or in the woods that I first met him in.

All in all it sounded like a great story.

There was one night, where I dreamt of a cliff. He was on it, fighting with a sword against a monster. It was not human—gray in color all over, eyes red as blood, deformed in all sorts of ways. Though it had two legs, two arms, a torso, and a head. Spikes poked out of it in different areas; truly demonic.

I feared for my friend’s life, gasping as he was speared in the chest with the sword.

With a start I woke, gasping for breath and sobbing with terror. My heart ached with dread at the thought of someone I was attached to—through a dream—someone that wasn’t even real, was dead.

I called off work for the rest of the week, drinking endless amounts of coffee and not sleeping for days. When it finally won out and took me over, I didn’t dream of him again. Over time I was able to come to terms and accept that maybe it was my own way of severing myself from the unhealthy attachment to a figment of my own imagination.

A month later we met again. I didn’t ask him about the monster or being stabbed. I just was grateful to have him be alive. We just laid in the grass, watching the stars and listening to his tales of them. The constellations were different than my own, but the stories were fascinating.

I don’t get to speak to him often but when I do I am always at ease.

Sometimes I’m afraid I fell in love with my imagined friend.

Why can’t Kili be real?

Next Chapter >> Chapter 2: Waking Up

[ravenouswild]

A fountain - A Donald Ressler Imagine

Imagine an accidental meeting being not so accidental

Mishka sat on a bench in the middle of one of the many parks in D.C. As expected the temperature had dropped another few degrees and she was glad her current wear of: a tan sweater dress reaching mid thigh with extra material around the neck, thick knitted black leggings, knee high boots with equal height stockings, and an off white bean, kept her comfortable in the chilling environment.

She wasn't alone though, a poodle and collie sat in front of her, held in place by two leashes, secured around her wrist. They weren't hers, but a neighbor's that frequently traveled and was in desperate need of a sitter.

Though this wasn't the spur of the moment, wanting a walk to clear the mind, no. Mishka was waiting. For what? The right moment. She only had a one chance and it had to be timed perfectly.

Mishka watched people walk back and forth, heading to where they needed to go. She smiled to herself slightly, for no particular reason than thinking what it was like to be normal. That was a foreign word to the woman. But she didn't let the thought of normality get to her head. She excepted that her life was anything but normal. She embraced it.

The screeching of tires broke Mishka out of her thoughts and set her into motion. Like a machine with a mission, Mishka stood up from the bench, the dogs along with her, and started walking down the right path between the line of trees toward the street. Her pace was calm. She wanted people to see her and forget. She needed to seem like any other woman walking her dogs.

At the edge of the park was a fountain, easily twenty-five feet in diameter. That's where she need to be. Mishka continued walking, the dogs leading the way, following the routine they had been on for about a week now.

As planned, 30 seconds later the three reached the fountain, stopping at the edge. The dogs looked around while sniffing the air, seeming to be in their own little worlds, leaving Mishka to wait for her cue.

It was the next series of gun shots that told Mishka that the plan was working. As soon as she saw a man run out of the building next to her and a set of agents run after him, she took a step forward to place herself in the needed position.

The next few seconds happened so fast no real person could process it, but for Mishka, she expected it. In those few seconds, the man that had run from the building ran into her, quickly grabbing the upper part of Mishka's arm, spinning her and pushing her into the man chasing him. The momentum the man had from running made him unable to stop, caused the two to crash to together, sending them both flying right into the three foot deep fountain.

Mishka felt the freezing water hit her skin as it soaked into her clothes. She found it hard to move her solid limbs to be able to resurface. In the blur of the water, Mishka saw a pair of arms reach in and pull her up and out of the water. Mishka gasped for a breath of air as water ran down her face.

Her eyes focused on a man just as soaked as she was, the man who ran into her. His usual blonde hair was now dark and sticking to his forehead. His suit was drenched from collar to socks. The man's brow frowned as he looked over the woman he had basically tackled into the freezing water.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?" The man's voice sounded soft but also authoritative as Mishka looked in to the man's eyes. It was definitely different from looking at a photo.

"Y-yeah." Mishka stuttered, genuinely starting to feel the effects of being soaked from head to toe. "N-normally I would've p-punched you for tackling m-me, but I-I don't think i can m-move my arms." The man released a small chuckle, making him look years younger. She couldn't help but smile too.

"Tell you what," Mishka hadn't noticed how close she had been standing to the man or how long she had been clutching onto his overcoat. "Let's get you looked at and warmed up and you can have a free shot. Deal?" She couldn't deny that this man was easy on the eyes or that he looked good with water droplets running downs his face, so she agreed, nodding her head already losing some feeling in her finger tips.

He was the first to move, pushing his legs through the freezing water as Mishka stiffly followed. He stepped over the concreted edge, both securing their arms to the other as he help the woman up, over and onto the path way.

He led Mishka over to a black suburban, opening the back door and pulling out a gray thermal blanket, only to wrap it around her shoulders. Mishka secured it around herself already starting to feel better, but then noticed the man close the door.

"What about you? You must be just as freezing as me?" He only glanced at her as he went around to the front pulling out a walkie.

"Keen, did you get Andrews?" There was a short buzzing noise, before a woman spoke from the other end denying his question. A sigh left the man as Mishka continued to watch him. He made a quick call before walking back to the woman. "I'll be fine. An ambulance is on their way. They're just gonna check you over, make sure you didn't get hurt from the fall."

"Thank you." Mishka smiled. "Even though you did just tackle me into a freezing cold fountain." The man chuckled, thinking he would probably never out live this once the team found out, but was brought back to the woman when she gasped.

"Shit." She cursed, running around the vehicle. The man frowned at her sudden changing following her.

"What's wrong?"

"My dogs. Well, my neighbor's dogs, but there gone." Mishka quickly spun around facing the agent. "They probably ran during the commotion. They could be miles away by now." The agent could see the distress in the womans eyes as she looked around. He couldn't help but feel the need to help her, even go searching for the k9s himself in his current state.

"I'll send word out to local shelter's. If they end up at any of them, I'll make sure you know the second they do." Mishka was surprised at his offer. She looked at him, his face held concern but also reassurance, causing Mishka to feel a sense of calmness.

It wasn't long after the an ambulance arrived. They were ordered by the man to check her first, as she was taken and seated in the back, but not before being given a shirt and sweat pants to change into. After a simple check over, the paramedics had told Mishka that she had taken a small hit to the head, which explained her forming headache. She was informed to stay warm for the rest of the day.

Mishka was just about done when she saw the agent walking towards her. He too was in a shirt, a pair of pants and his hair had almost completely dried, showing of his natural blonde. Mishka smile as he approached, still clutching the blanket he gave her.

"How are you feeling?" Mishka would like to think that he was asking that question because that's just something you do as a person. But coming from the man she had only just met, is sounded genuine.

"Warmer. They said the when you tackled me I must've hit me head on the bottom of the fountain. Nothing to major, though."

"If it makes you feel better this moment is probably gonna be over my head for a while. My team found it very amusing." Mishka smiled and so did the man.

"I never got you name or do you prefer 'man who tackled me into a fountain'?" He chuckled at the woman, slightly amused by her sense of humor.

"As nice as that sounds, I think I'll pass." He held out his hand. "Donald Ressler." She took it.

"Christina Levine, but people call me Chris." Donald found himself liking the name Christina a lot more, especially when he put it to her face. When they both came back to reality, they notice they were still holding each others hand. Mishka blushed as she looked down. "Well, I hope you find your guy. And when you do, punch him for me."

It was Donald who let out a chuckle. There was something about her that he like.

"Will do." He stood from leaning against the ambulance. They said their byes, even though it wouldn't be the last time they saw each other.

"Hey." Donald had only gotten a few yards before he turned back around, Mishka smiling at him. "I still own you that free shot to the face, Agent Ressler." Donald frowned, but still had a hit of amusement in his features.

"Who said anything about the face?"

"I promise it'll only hurt for a day or so." Don smiled, with a shake of his head, starting to walk backwards.

"I look forward to it." Mishka watched at he turned back around and walked away. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face and the EMTs finished up and allowed her to leave.

As an order by Donald, a officer escorted Mishka to her car a block way. She was quick to thank him as she got in and pulled into the line of traffic.