#this thought inspired by the realization that i have a mosquito bite on my neck

[cozy-the-overlord]

The whole concept of being fed on by a vampire would be a lot less hot if vampire bites itched like mosquito bites

[xpeachesncream]

how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)

summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?

pairing: jjk x reader

genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst

words: ~12.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)

note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--

both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece

i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video

enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺

"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.

"Yes?"

"Can I nap in your room?"

"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.

"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."

"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.

Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.

"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.

"When's your next class, you little baby?"

"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"

"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.

You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more. 

But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.

And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.

Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.

Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.

Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.

It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.

"Class time."

"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."

"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."

"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.

"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"

"I said I'd think about it right?"

"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."

"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.

"Just come for a little bit."

"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."

"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.

"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."

"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.

"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.

"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"

"Sure. If you pay." He groans

"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.

Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.

Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.

"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.

"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—

"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"

"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.

"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.

"Shut up, Jungkook—"

"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."

"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.

"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.

"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."

"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.

After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier.  The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.

"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.

"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."

"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"

"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."

"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.

"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.

"Should be holy water because you all need it."

"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.

"How many people are you expecting?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."

"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."

"They're invited too."

"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"

"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."

"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.

He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"

"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."

"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.

"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.

"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."

"It sounds like you want to."

"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.

"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."

"Yesssss! I do."

"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."

"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].

And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.

"I'm back!"

"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.

"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."

"Ugh, I'm so tired though."

"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.

"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."

"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.

"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"

"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.

"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.

Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.

Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.

"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.

"Yeah, good idea."

"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."

"Can I join?" His eyes light up.

"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.

While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.

"You smell just like me." You chuckle.

"It's great, isn't it?"

"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.

"No, I'll be good."

"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.

"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."

"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.

"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.

"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.

"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."

"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."

"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."

"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.

"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"

"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?

"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."

"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.

"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."

"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?

Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.

Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.

Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.

"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.

"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"

"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."

"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."

"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."

"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.

He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.

Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.

"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.

"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.

"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."

"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.

"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.

"What the fuck?"

"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.

"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."

"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"

"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.

And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.

10 drinks.

10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.

"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.

"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.

You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.

But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.

"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.

"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."

"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.

"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.

"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.

"Y-yes." You whine.

"Say it again."

"All for you, Kook."

"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.

"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.

"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.

"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.

"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.

The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.

You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.

No.

That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.

Nothing.

Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.

The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.

Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'

Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.

Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.

And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.

"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.

"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.

"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.

"Y/N—"

"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.

"I never said—"

"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.

Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.

You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.

"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.

"Y/N, wait. Stop."

"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.

"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.

"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.

"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"

"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.

Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.

This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.

You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.

Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?

"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body.  "Just got out of practice?"

"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.

"How was it?"

"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."

"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.

"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.

"What time is it at?"

"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.

"Sure. I'll come."

"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.

"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"

"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.

"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."

"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.

"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."

"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”

"Yeah I know."

"Tell me how it goes!"

"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.

You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.

To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.

To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.

The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.

Gross.

Messy, indeed.

Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.

"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?

"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."

"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.

"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"

"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"

"Who the hell said that?"

"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"

"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.

"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."

"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.

Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.

God.

You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.

Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.

"Hello? Y/N?"

"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"

"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.

"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.

"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.

You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.

I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?

He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.

Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.

Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.

But he can tell.

"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.

"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.

"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.

"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"

"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.

"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."

"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"

"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."

"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.

"Wait."

"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the  head of his chair while he turns to you.

"Can you just lay with me?"

"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"

"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"

"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.

"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."

"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.

"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.

"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."

"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.

"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."

"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.

"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.

"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.

"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.

"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.

"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.

And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.

But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.

And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.

Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.

The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.

"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.

Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.

That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.

Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.

And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.

"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.

"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.

"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"

"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.

"Yeah, I was."

"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"

"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."

"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.

"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.

And he gets that.

His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.

"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hm?"

"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.

"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.

"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.

"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.

"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.

"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.

"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.

"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.

"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.

"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.

"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.

"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.

"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.

"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.

"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.

"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."

"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.

"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.

"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.

You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.

"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.

"I love you too." You giggle.

"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.

"Shut up."

"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.

[pillowfluffs]

Room Renovations | Hyunwoo, Minhyuk

Pairing: Hyunwoo X Reader (gender neutral) and Minhyuk X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: simple fluff, fun ig 

Author’s Note: inspired by me currently redoing my room too tehe

Hyunwoo: 

The room was so hot, all your clothes and things were scattered into messy organized piles all over the floor, and you couldn’t move your dressers that were right in the center of the room

Everything was so heavy and you couldn’t move anything on your own but most of all you were so hungry

Your room looked like a complete disaster- specifically the floor and this was only the beginning

You were in the process of clearing out your little apartment so you could return it to the landlord and move in with Hyunwoo

But now clearing it, you didn’t realize you had so much stuff

Your bed was completely covered by your wardrobe from your closet and dressers and you needed to pack them into suitcases but you also needed to get rid of stuff and put things into storage, give stuff away, etc

You actually liked to pack things and such but this was a bit more than you initially thought

It was pretty stressful since it all was a time crunch

But right now you couldn’t think straight or focus on something too much- all you wanted was food in your tummy. The heat didn’t help at all- you just wanted the air conditioning to come back on and for Hyunwoo to return

You currently moved to your book case and grabbed two empty boxes- one for donations and others for keeping

You only had one shelf and a looking at the books, almost half of them were bought on a whim since you thought you would like to read it but you were wrong

You fanned yourself with a small magazine, frustratedly stacking books into both boxes, averting your gaze from everything else in the room

This was how you were whenever you packed your room: you got a little too excited about things and you did this thing where you jumped form one thing to another, not finishing the first thing

It was a bad habit and this time, it proved to be the worst habit you could have while packing your entire room

But not looking at your things could only help so much. It was like a mosquito bite or a thorn in your side, but in this case, there were multiple things of either or

Your clothes still needed to be folded and you were a fraction of the way through but you also needed to clear your desk and sort your supplies into the desk box… however, your bookshelf was one of the few things left untouched and you just had to sort these books right now

Your body felt so drained and tired spending the last couple days packing your entire apartment and your bedroom was one of the worst since you had so much

Birds chirped, bees buzzed, life went on as if nothing was wrong or stressful in life but you were going through the complete opposite and it really sucked right now

“I’m back,” the sound of the most glorious man in your life right now. Hyunwoo. Was. Back

You threw the book in your hand into the donations box and practically sprinted out of the humid bedroom, the socks you wore on your feet made you slip and almost fall as you approached him

“Foooddd!” you exaggerated, raising your voice a little towards the end to emphasize your hunger and little crankiness to which he playfully raised the take out bags up in the air in his hands

“Wooo,” he slipped out of his sneakers, setting the bags onto your kitchen counter

You had boxes stacked on top one another in your living room near the shelves and around the side of the couches with your belongings inside

You wasted no time zipping between the piles of boxes like it was an obstacle course and washed your hands with soap before you reached for plates and utensils

Hyunwoo wore a fitted b lack t-shirt with black joggers. You set yours and his plate on the counter next to the plastic containers containing the pasta and sides of beef and veggies in smaller ones

You danced about behind him, singing along to a random song, your hands tapping and lightly slapping his toned back as he plated yours and his foods

The aroma of the pasta wafted through the kitchen in the area around you two and it made your mouth salivate. Your stomach practically screamed in hunger

You wrapped your hands around his slim waist, peeking around him from behind

“Here you go,” he pushed your plate to the side so you could take and you happily did, letting out a joyous wheeze screech, making his eye smiles appear on his face

After parting his own, he put the covers over the containers and left it there in case you wanted seconds

You plopped yourself on the light brown leather couch in the center of your living room, tapping your utensils as you looked to him, waiting for him to join you

But it didn’t take him long. Hyunwoo was hungry too and you already knew he could most likely devour this entire order by himself

When he sat down, it was when the two of you began eating

Tasting the first mouthful of pasta on your tastebuds was almost enough to bring tears to your eyes. It was either that good or you were just hungry

“Mmm, thank you so much,” you bumped your head to his arm, taking another bite into your mouth

“No problem. How far did you get while I was gone?” He asked, shoveling a mouthful of pasta and stuffing a few pieces of the side order of meat into his mouth

“I don’t even think I made any. I was hungry and hot and it made me annoyed with everything,” you took a bite of a veggie, tasting it. “But you’re here and food is here, so things should be a lot better. I can think now.”

And you were right

The two of you had seconds with little to no leftovers left and got back to work as the sun set outside, the last bits of the day painted beautifully into the early evening sky

Hyunwoo helped you move your dressers into the hall so one of them could be donated and the other could be brought to your parents’ house to be reused

The room opened up but now the main things were the piles on the ground but that was all that was left

You focused yourself and got to folding your clothes as Hyunwoo finished where you left on your bookshelf. He listed out titles for you to tell him whether to keep it or not as you folded and packed your clothes into suitcases

When he finished clearing your bookshelf, he moved your boxed books out to make even more room so it didn’t feel as stuffy

Everything really was better after food and the temperature going down

When those were out of the way, he started your desk for you. Here, he didn’t have to ask you too much so the two of you talked about whatever

You filled your big suitcase and all you had left that would fit into your smaller suitcase. As Hyunwoo cleared your desk and supplies, including your office supplies, you didn’t realize how much stuff you didn’t want until he asked you about it

The trash bag you had for anything in general was filling up fast but things were clearing and the more things were being cleared, the more it felt like the weight was lifting off of you

When your clothes were finally done and folded, Hyunwoo took the suitcases out for you and now the living room was organized with stacks of your boxes

It was a bit after midnight when your room was finally cleared and now all you had left to do was move your boxes, take out the trash of stuff you didn’t want, bring your boxes of donated things to their respectful places and do a clean down before returning your keys to your landlord

But the cleaning day would have to be for another day- most likely the day after tomorrow  

When the final box was packed, you had never seen your room so clear

You could feel the small bags forming beneath your eyes as you yawned for the nth time

You stood before Hyunwoo and leaned into him, wrapping your hands around his neck, giving him a tired hug

‘Thank you for everything,” your voice was silky in his ears

He leaned down, bringing his face to your shoulder, kissing your jaw and neck, his hands traveling down the sides of your body

“It’s nothing,” he smiled against your skin, the tips of his ears turning red

Minhyuk: 

Upbeat music played from your bluetooth speaker that was connected to Minhyuk’s phone, the song echoing off your high walls

The two of you were currently in your rented room in the house you shared with three other roommates

The house itself was pretty old but it you weren’t surprised since it was one of many other houses that lined the edge of your university campus. You’ve lived here since your first year, renewing your lease every year

It was pretty convenient for you as a uni student since you didn’t have to pay the expensive housing and meal plan feels as part of your tuition but you also didn’t have to waste gas by driving to campus and struggle to find a parking spot while you were at classes

You didn’t have to waste money or struggle to find a spot. Instead, you walked to school to your classes almost everyday but since it was your last year, you didn’t have too many challenging classes since you had almost all your credits

This year was just the final stretch and it was almost over

But before the year ends, you began to pack your room so you could bring them back to your parents’ house to live there in the mean time before the year ended

And since your room was one of the biggest, you also had the most stuff so you didn’t have to go back and forth between your place and your parents’ house for your things

It had only been a few hours since you started and the two of you had only managed to clear your dresser but you still had your closet and desk and bed and decorations

Today was going to be longggg. You could already tell

The biggest challenge you could see was your closet as you scanned your room and Minhyuk spread himself out all over your bed, humming along to the song, occasionally letting his voice shine

But you didn’t mind and no one else did either since one of your roommates was out for their classes for the day, the other was back at home already, and the last one was just out and about

You two had the house completely to yourselves

“Can we order pizza?” Minhyuk asked as you pushed your two remaining jumbo sized suitcases into your little walk in closet

“Yeah, order on my laptop and then get in here,” you called, your voice raised since the room muffled sound. It was pretty cozy and to be quite honest, you knew you were going to miss this space when you were back home

Some nights when all the sounds of traffic or parties were going on, you brought your pillow and blanket to your closet, focusing in there since it was much quieter

You opened your first big suitcase and got to it. You piled your t-shirts and folded sweatshirts and pants from the built in shelves on the wall into your suitcase which filled about a third of it. The rest were all hung in hangers, which you also had boxes for to bring back with you since they were still good

You picked a section and started there, responding to Minhyuk as he called out possible toppings you would want, adding them to the pizza before it would come

It was nice since it would arrive most likely while the two of you cleaned out your closet so it would be a nice little treat

“Do you want a side of fries?” He called out

“Can you get seasoned?” You called out, pausing from your folding

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice quiet. He made the payment putting in his card info and then he joined you inside your closet

He got to work and brought in your speaker that was still playing music, turning the volume down in the small room

Light rain tapped on the little window in your closet but it was nothing you two could hear over the music

He sand along horrifically, getting you to laugh, being a source of entertainment and sunshine on this gloomy day

He folded clothes as he took them off the hanger and left them dangling on the metal rod as you took your time to take them individually off the hanger off the rod, discarding them

But while going through your wardrobe, you noticed a few articles you didn’t even want anymore and articles you never even more. You left and brought back a bag to donate your clothes

This made it somehow more fun to pack everything since you knew not everything in here was going to go into your suitcases and who knows? Maybe clearing out your closet would go by a lot faster than you thought

About an hour passed and the bag was 2/3 of the way full and your current suitcase was roughly the same 2/3 full. The two of you were making good time, getting through halfway through the closet

With the music going loud, it was suddenly interrupted from the call of the pizza deliverer. It was at this time you realized how much worse the storm had gotten, how much darker it was outside, the tree in the front yard swaying harshly in the wind

It was a sight to see and it made you stop where you were mid fold of one of your shirts

The sound of his steps thudded louder as he approached the top, the smell of pizza filling your room as he brought it to the main empty area

You folded your final shirt and went out to join him, the two of you washing hands side by side in the shared bathroom that you no longer had to share with your roommates

The pizza smelled delicious but what really got your mouth watering was the seasoned fries with garlic spice and parmesan cheese

The two of you ate your fill, leaving about three slices left before getting back to work

Instead of listening to music this time, you connected your laptop to the speaker and played a movie the two of you didn’t care about too much, acting as a background sound while the two of you commented about how cheesy the lines were and about how poor the acting skills of the cast were

By the time the movie was about a quarter of the way through, the two of you were able to finish packing your closet in a breeze. You got rid of a lot of old clothes you brought from home, packing the newer ones you had bought

You still had your second suitcase which was perfect cause now you could pack your bedding and save a few more boxes for your desk supplies and decorations

You sat at your desk with a box empty at your side, neatly organizing things into it as Minhyuk climbed a little step ladder you borrowed from downstairs to take down your string lights that were weaved around the wooden support beams

Fortunately, you didn’t have too much/ you didn’t bring too much things for your desk, mostly a couple books and a few textbooks since almost everything was online

He neatly placed your lights into your box as you packed your notebooks, flipping through them, seeing the familiar notes you had to take with your rushed handwriting

The day was going by a bit slow but things were getting done in a non-stressful environment and it was pretty nice

The movie played on your laptop still on your bed

Looking around, it felt weird to see it so empty. You could remember the days you moved in, you and your parents helping you bring up your desk and curtains, helping you set up your room

Now you were seeing it all go away and being cleared. It was like you were creeping toward the end of a chapter you didn’t think would be near so soon

The desk and decorations did not take as long as you thought as possible. You honestly felt like you had a lot more but seeing it all boxed up and in suitcases made it feel like you really didn’t bring that much

The bed was the final thing you two had to do but it was time for a break

There wasn’t too much of a rush since it wasn’t like you two were going to be leaving with all your things as soon as the bedding was packed

The storm was still brewing, it was rush hour so the streets were packed too and no one was here to bother you or anything

There really was no rush at all. The two of you laid in your bed beneath your plush comforters, laid and surrounded by all your fluffy pillows

He placed the laptop on his stomach to watch the movie despite how.. not good it was and you laid beside him, legs tangled with his between the sheets

You rested your head on his chest. One arm around your, his fingers rubbing circles into your arm while the other rested behind his head

At the comfiness all around you, you yawned into him, using your blanket to wipe away the tears that formed in your eyes

“Nap time?” He nudged your arm

“Maybe…” you said a bit more tiredly than you thought you were, your eyes getting heavy

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading!

[quokkacore]

do you believe in magic? [kim yugyeom]

summary: Inspired by the HP quote, “Me dad’s a muggle. Mam’s a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out.”

pairing: kim yugyeom x fem witch!reader

genre: fluff, witch!au

warnings: mild language, yugyeom faints? idk

song rec: lizzo - deep

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this was originally posted to my old writing blog on september 15th, 2018. happy reading! <3

masterlist

Kim Yugyeom was lucky he was cute.

It wasn’t that he was stupid. Not at all — Yugyeom could be very smart when he wanted to. No, your Gyeommie was just… oblivious.

Oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend, which was to say, you, was a witch.

You’d been dating Yugyeom for almost a year now, and needless to say, things were getting pretty serious.

For most people, the way romance worked, had maybe four steps. One, you meet, two, you fall in love, three, you start dating, and if things are that serious, then… four, you get married.

For witches, specifically the witches that decided to date non-witches (muggles, no-majs, mortals, humans, or whatever you call them), there were always five steps: to tell the person they were dating that, hey, they were a witch. Some opted to wedge the extra step in between three and four, but you had heard of a few that had left it as a fifth step.

Which never really ended well, or so you’d heard. So that was why, as your first anniversary approached, you’d decided to start dropping more hints about your abilities to your boyfriend, who really, really sucked at picking them up.

Your black cat, for one. You’d gotten Jules before you started dating, but you’d realized something the first time Yugyeom had met your cat.

“Why a black cat?” He’d asked, before jokingly adding, “They’re bad luck, you know. And they’re friends with witches.”

There were several things you wanted to answer with. That black cats weren’t bad luck, and, yes, they were friends with witches. Why did he think you had one? But instead, you’d answered with the most stupid words you’d ever heard yourself say.

“In this house, we don’t approve of cat racism.”

And he’d lost it.

Since then, things had gotten more serious. You’d met his parents. He’d met yours (in what was the most nerve wracking night of your life, but that was a story for another time). He’d even asked if you wanted to move in, which was what made you realize just how serious that things were starting to get. A few nights later, before falling asleep, you asked him a question.

“Gyeom?” You murmured, and you felt a soft rumble from his chest as he let out a quiet, “Hmm?”

“Do you believe in magic?”

He craned his head to look at you in the dim light. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were pouting slightly as he contemplated the question. “Why do you ask?” He asked back a few moments later.

You could feel your heart in your throat as you contemplated telling him in that very moment. You opened your mouth to speak, ready to tell him.

“No reason,” You answered instead, “I just… I just think sometimes that whatever force brought us together had to have been, uhh, magical, for you and I to be so perfect for each other.”

As his eyebrows remained furrowed, his lips grew into a small smile.

“You are so cheesy sometimes,” He replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Gyeommie.” You couldn’t help but feel disappointed in yourself, mentally slapping yourself for being such a wimp.

Still, he smiled slightly wider and his grip tightened a little on your waist, calming your nerves. And you fell asleep like that, wishing you could tell the truth about who you really were.

There was also the slight fear of him thinking you were a freak or being angry once you told him. You’d even asked yourself if he’d attack you, as you’d heard it happen before, but immediately discarded the thought.

This was Kim freaking Yugyeom, the boy who’d taken you for a walk in the park during summertime and refused to kill a mosquito that had landed on his arm because, “The little dude’s just living his life. You wouldn’t like it if you were eating a grilled cheese and someone just decided to merk you.”

…Yeah, you were safe.

So you continued dropping hints. Each and every one went completely ignored, as if he were leaving you on read in person. First, you decided to reorganize your tarot cards in front of him when he was visiting your apartment.

“Cool!” He answered, “I didn’t know you played poker. Maybe you can teach me.”

He took another bite of the sandwich he’d made himself, before wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ve always wanted to play strip poker, you know.”

His tone was playful, and you laughed. But at the same time… Does he really not know the difference between tarot cards and playing cards?

“They’re not poker cards, babe,” You explained as he finished his sandwich, “They’re tarot cards.”

He tilted his head, his silver earrings dangling.

“I’ve never heard of that game, how do you play?”

“Gyeom, it’s not a game—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Yugyeom’s phone. He fished it out of his pocket, before mumbling, “Just a sec, jagi.”

He answered the phone. “Bam, what’s up? Dude, calm down. What? Now? I can’t, I have to… Fuck, Bam, fine, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You owe me, big time.”

He hung up, sighing as he carded a hand through his hair. You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’s up with Bambam?” You asked, watching him pick up his jacket from the couch.

“His cat’s going into labor,” He groaned, “He’s freaking out. He wants me to help him.”

Pulling on his denim jacket, he walked towards you to press a kiss to your cheek. “Teach me your game another time, babe. I gotta go, I’m sorry.”

He started toward your apartment door, opening it hastily. “Wait, Yugyeom—”

But he was already gone, leaving you dumbfounded.

And that was only the first attempt.

You tried making some tea because, hey, infusions are witchy. He told you that you didn’t need to diet because you were beautiful just the way you are. Which was sweet, but, also mildly frustrating.

You’d left your book of shadows out where he could see it, on a page full of runes and sigils. He’d told you that you were a great abstract artist. You’d even started watching movies with witches in them while he was around, like Hocus Pocus or Practical Magic, even though you had a strong distaste for how misrepresented you felt.

Finally, for your anniversary, after going out for a nice dinner, you gave him a DVD set of the first season of Game of Thrones, because you knew he’d been wanting to start watching it.

“It has magic in it,” You said in a sing-song tone when he unwrapped it, back at his apartment. He turned his head to look at you, his dark eyes glittering. “I get it now, Y/N,” He answered, and your eyes went wide.

“Y-you do?”

He nodded, smiling at you, and you felt your heart swell. “I looked up what tarot was,” He began, “It’s a form of… divination, right?”

You nodded proudly, grinning. Finally!

“That, and then the tea leaves, the drawings in your journal, then the movies, and this? Babe…”

You were so happy, you could scream.

“…You really didn’t have to go that far with the whole ‘what we have is magical’ bit, jagi, but, damn, this is so sweet. I love you.”

Your smile faded. “What?” You asked, blinking.

“What?” He asked back, his tone different from yours. You sounded confused, he sounded even more confused. “Y-you think this is a play on my words, Yugyeom?”

He blinked, scratching at the back of his neck and looking awkward as hell. “Is that… not what this is?”

You stood up, shaking your head. “I… need some water.”

You walked over to the kitchen, but he followed you as you did. “What?” He asked innocently from behind you, “What did I do?”

Not looking back, even though the whiny tone he took was adorable, you opened his refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. Opening it, you shook your head, “Nothing, Gyeom. Forget about it.”

You took a swig of your water, turning back to face him. He looked frustrated. “No,” he answered, stepping closer to you, “I won’t.”

“Really, Gyeommie, it’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it’s a big deal,” He replied, eyebrows furrowing as he gently took the water bottle from your hands, and set it on the counter in a haste, “I want you to be happy, and that can’t happen if you’re not letting me know what’s bothering you.”

“Yugyeom, I… You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I’d still love you,” He murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, and you felt your eyes flutter shut, “No matter what you do, Y/N, I’m gonna love you.”

One of his big hands grasped yours, and you smiled as he pecked you on the lips. The other hand went to the counter, sandwiching you between it and him.

“Tell me, baby,” He murmured, as you opened your eyes, looking up at him.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself to tell him, and you felt his free hand, the one against the counter, move. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

He smiled warmly, still moving his free hand to be more comfortable. “Come on, Y/N, I’m sure it’s not that bad— waitnoholycrap!”

As he’d been moving his hand along the counter, he’d accidentally managed to tip over your water bottle, which was still uncapped. Both his head and yours moved to watch it fall over, things seeming to move in slow motion.

Your eyes widened as Yugyeom broke away from you and moved to grab it, and you held out a hand instinctively, closing your eyes as you braced yourself to get splashed by cold water.

You opened one eye when it never came.

You were met with Yugyeom looking at you, eyes wide as the moon. He looked pale as hell, mouth agape. You opened both eyes, and stared at him for a moment, before realizing what had freaked him out so much, as you turned to look down at the bottle of water, which was, surprise, surprise, levitating. No water had spilled from it, thankfully.

“What the— H-how—”

You flicked your wrist upwards, watching as the bottle of water floated upwards, before settling itself back on the counter. You glanced back at your boyfriend, whose eyes had somehow managed to get even bigger. “D-did you… How did you even…?”

“Gyeom,” You mumbled, staring up at him, “Do you believe in magic?”

He blinked, pointing at the bottle, and then you, and then back at the bottle. “You— But— Wait, that’s what this was all about?”

You nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you sooner, but I…”

Your words were lost on Yugyeom, who was already in his own world. “You just… and you… water bottle…”

His words faded off to somewhere, and a few seconds later, he did too. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he started falling forward, and you caught him before he could hit his head on anything. You never imagined this would happen.

“Yugyeom?” You asked, tone worried but also slightly amused. “B-Babe?”

A half hour and one more levitation spell later, Yugyeom came to in his bed, with you sitting next to him as you applied a cold cloth to his forehead. His eyes cracked open, and he rasped out, “Y/N?”

“Hey,” You murmured, “How are you doing?”

“D-did you really—"

“Make the water bottle float? Yeah. Yeah, I did. This entire time, Gyeommie, I’ve been wanting to tell you the truth. A-and now you know, I’m a witch.”

Yugyeom took a deep breath, eyes looking up at his ceiling. “Goddamn,” He mumbled, “I high key thought I was going crazy for a moment.”

You chuckled, shaking your head lightly. “You’re not, Gyeom. I swear.”

He didn’t respond, and your heart went into overdrive. And when your heart went into overdrive, you tended to word vomit. “I mean, I understand if you wouldn’t want to date me because of it, I know it’s weird and if you want to break up I’m not gonna stop you even though I love you andyou’rereallyspecialtomeactuallywaitnopleasedon’tbreakupwithmeGyeom—!”

“Woah, woah. Calm down, Y/N…” He grabbed your hand, and squeezed. You instinctively squeezed back. “Why would I break up with you over the fact that you’re, like, Hermione Granger?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know… I’ve heard about it happening before…”

He shook his head, removing the cloth from his forehead and slowly sitting up. “Nothing could keep me away from you, jagiya. Not even magic, which, now, at least, I do believe in. Does that answer your question?”

He leaned in to kiss you again, and you felt how the both of you were smiling.

When you broke away, his nose and forehead were resting against yours, and you opened your eyes to be met with his.

“Does this mean that we can go on a date on your flying broomstick? You know, Kiki’s Delivery Service style?”

“Gyeom, those don’t exist.”

“Wait, what? You mean my entire life has been a lie?”

Yeah. This was gonna be good.

[gyllenhaalics]

Perks of Being Good - Prologue

Pairing: Mob boss!Jake x reader, hitman!C.Evans x reader Summary: Your father died taking a bullet for one of Jake’s men. So naturally, you take your father’s place as an associate. And Jake honors your father’s last wish by protecting you. He might have gone a little too far with his protection. Disclaimer: I do not own anyone whose name appears in this story. Word count: 1500

Warning:  Innocent/corruption kink, fingering, dirty talking, daddy kink, p0rn with plot (that you can ignore).

A/N: This is for my Smut Therapy, a mini-series that’s mostly just smut, to help me (and anyone who needs it) with stress. The list of warnings will get longer as we get to the main part, as noted in this POST.

Dedicated to: @realovesthings​ my username buddy @gyll-yee-haw​ you inspired me to write this, thank you so much @angelic-holland​ & @gyllenwh0re​ I thought of you while writing this, thank you for all the smut you’ve written for all of us (I hope you’re okay with me tagging you)

You pulled yourself to the corner, shivering, trying to cover your body as much as you could. You bit your lips to block the whimper bubbling inside your throat. Your eyes couldn’t move away from the man standing in the middle of the room.

“Didn’t know the old man has such a cutie of a daughter.”

“Have some respect for the dead, Evans.”

You realized they were talking about your father as the tall, well-built man named Evans walked around with his silenced pistol, kicking the bloody bodies to make sure there was no sign of life left. Several people broke into your apartment. They would have killed you if it wasn’t for these men.  You felt a pair of blue eyes pierced through you. He dressed in an all-black suit that accented the gold chain around his neck. You almost jumped when his coat touched your shoulders, and felt his lingering body heat wrapped around you.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe now. Once you calm down, I’d like to have a few words.”

…

It’s been several months after the incident. You’ve been an associate lawyer for Maggie since then. The job was passed on to you by your late father. Maggie handles the family’s legal businesses, and that means someone has to pay taxes. That is why you’re here at one of her property, which happens to be a porn set. At least the mistress spares you a small guest room for your desk, even though the walls are not sound-proof.

You bury your face in mountains of tax documents and property contracts, trying to ignore the dirty talking and heavy moaning. You clip the pages neatly together in a hurry. You only have to give this to Maggie, and then maybe you can ask her to let you go home early for the day. Jake can be here to pick you up at any moment.

“Ma'am, your document.”

You lower your voice and hand the paper stack to the woman behind the camera. She smiles and crooks her finger at you, asking you to come closer. You follow, with reluctance. It seems to be a threesome scene today, the actress lies across the sofa, resting her head on one man’s lap, nibbling on his cock, while the other man is penetrating her. Their hands roam all over her skin, tugging her sensitive spots as she lets out her ecstatic moan and squirms underneath them.

You must admit, for someone who has been here for months, you still get flustered every time they shoot a film. It would be a lie to say you have never watched porn, but Maggie’s works are different, women-oriented if one may call. They are not always gentle and sensual. Some of them are pretty rough.

“That’s a wrap! Somebody give my girl a glass of water.”

Maggie exchanges a few words with the crew and dismisses them soon after. She then turns to you, who have subconsciously hugged the paper stack like a shield.

“What do you think, honey? My offer’s still on if you’re interested.”

“I don’t think I can, ma'am. I’m not uh, experienced.” Blood rushes to your cheeks. Maggie has been offering you to be in one of her works. The pay is hefty and a dozen times more than being a lawyer for the mobs. But you can never see yourself doing it. You don’t know what Maggie sees in you that makes her so determined.

“Oh, honey. Innocence is a perk.”

Maggie brushes a strain of hair to your ear. Before you can process her words, you hear heavy footsteps behind you. You turn and see a man towering over you, still with his gleaming gold chain.

“Afternoon, Mr. Gyllenhaal.”

“Told you to stop calling me that.” Jake winces at your formality. “Maggie hasn’t been too hard on you, has she?”

“Jake, that’s you.” Maggie retaliates, amused at this whole situation.

Things between you and the boss started soon after he saved your life. Your father died taking a bullet for one of Jake’s men. So naturally, you take your father’s place as an associate. And Jake honors your father’s last wish by protecting you. He might have gone a little too far with his protection.

…

On your way back, you lean on Jake’s chest as he has his arm around your back, encasing you in a half embrace. As soon as you got in the car, he couldn’t wait for a second longer to have his hands all over you.

The driver acts like he doesn’t see or hear anything. As far as anyone can tell, you have been the boss’ lover for a while now. One can guess from the way he dotes on you, how he showers you with lavish gifts, or from that one time he had you warm his cock for the entire meeting and you were on the verge of tear because you couldn’t get your release.

“Heard Maggie was pestering you about being in her film?”

He whispers in your ears as he kneads your breasts through the blouse. He isn’t that rough, but the pressure is enough to make your breathing quickened. And you always love the feeling of his beard scratching on your skin. The tickling sensation always gives you butterflies in your stomach. You return his affection by caressing his thigh, inching closer to the visible bulge on his pants.

“Maggie’s been very kind to me. She was only joking.”

“Maggie doesn’t joke about her work, princess.”

Jake grabs your face with his free hand and makes your whimper softly. His lips cover yours in a passionate kiss, almost as if he wants nothing but to devour you whole. After breaking off the kiss, Jake places his fingers on your lips. You obediently open your mouth and take his fingers in as he has taught you. Your tongue swirls around his digits, trying to get them as wet as you can.

“Now, lift your skirt.”

He removes his fingers from your mouth, leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He looks down at your skirt, giving you the signal to not stopping. He watches in amusement as your trembling hands lift the fabric.

“No panties? And you’re so wet, princess. How filthy.”

But you were the one who told me to. You thought, but you’ve learned from your past mistakes to hold your tongue. Jake grips your neck and pins you down on the backseat. His index finger pushes its way into your bare pussy. It is so sudden you cannot hold back your whimpering.

“Hasn’t she told you? There’s a huge market for your type.”

Jake adds another finger starts pumping them in and out of you, slowly at first.

“Innocent and obedient. Look how well you’ve learned, princess. Inexperienced. Yet so sensitive that any stimulation is too much for you.”

He quickens the pace.

“Can never forget the first time I made you come. You couldn’t stop crying and shaking. Poor thing, how pathetic.”

He curls his fingers, finding your sweet spot. His thumb grazes on your clit. You shut your eyes, letting his biting words ravage your thoughts.

“So naive, you think Maggie is kind? One day, you’ll find yourself spreading your legs for a whole bunch of her goons. Or maybe that’s what you want?”

You shudder at his words. The thought is a little scary for you. That’s not a lie, but an oddly pleasant sensation builds in the pit of your stomach. You feel another wave of wetness leaks from your pussy.

“If you’d like to be a little whore, I can arrange that, princess. Maybe my next meeting, yes? You can warm my cock like the other day. Then, after we finish, I’ll let my men pass you around and use you like the fuck toy you are. And if you’re good enough, maybe they will have mercy on you and fill that little pussy up nicely. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

His voice turns deep and harsh, and his fingers are torturously fast. Your walls contract around him like crazy as you find yourself on the verge of orgasm. The filthy things he said, you know he wouldn’t let anyone touch you without your consent and his permission. But the thoughts alone are enough to bring you over the edge.

“Daddy, please let me come. I need to come. Can I-”

Jake pulls his fingers away. He brings his hand down and smacks at your clit. The combination of the sting from his strike and the sudden lack of stimulation almost drives you insane. He gathers you up into his arms and plants chaste kisses on your forehead.

“Not yet, baby girl. Once we’re home, you’ll be good for daddy and make daddy comes first. Then, and only then, you can come.”

You whine and punch at his chest. Though it probably feels like a mosquito bite to him.

“Don’t be a brat now, princess. Don’t fret. I have a surprise for you at home.”

…

[generaldisdainn]

Four of a Kind

AO3 link

Rating: MA

Pairing: Kristanna

Previous chapter

The wonderful @epbaker​ drew some GORGEOUS artwork that’s loosely inspired by this fic that you can find here!

The lovely @ahtohallan-calling doodled the title of the fic which you can find here!!

Chapter 10

Kristoff, Anna, Ryder, and Sven were all scrunched together in that order on the sofa, watching Ryder play Breath of the Wild on the TV.

“So let me get this right,” Kristoff said, “it’s called ‘The Legend of Zelda’ but you’re Link, the guy who has to save Zelda?”

“Yup,” Ryder responded, most of his attention devoted to the game.

“And you’ve never been able to play as Zelda?”

“Nope.”

“Wow, sucks for Link,” Kristoff said. “He does all the hard work and Zelda gets the glory.”

“Well, she’s still a major figure in the games.”

“Yeah, but isn’t she not in some? And Link is in every one?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“So it should be ‘The Legend of Link,’ right?”

“Well, no, because Link is supposed to be a player avatar. You can name him other things, too, so it wouldn’t make sense if—”

“Wait, you can name him something else in this game but you decided to name him Link?”

“No, you can’t name him something else in this game, because this is the first game with voice actors in it, so—”

“These games have never had voice actors? ”

“ VETO!! ” Sven shouted and shot up from the couch.

“Aw, c’mon!” Anna complained. “I was having fun listening to them bicker!”

A few weeks ago, the four of them came up with the concept of a “veto”. It gave the person who declared it the power to force the other three to stop what they’re doing and do whatever that person wants.

“We are not spending another weekend like this,” Sven declared. “We are going to remind ourselves what real nature looks like. We’re going hiking, bitches!”

Sven was immediately met with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“Ugh, fine,” Kristoff mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m okay with that,” Ryder said.

“Oh my god, that sounds so fun!” Anna squealed. “Are there good hikes around here?”

Sven seemed to begin to answer affirmatively, but the words caught in his throat. He pulled his phone from his pocket and rapidly typed something. A few seconds of silence passed.

“Yeah, of course there are!” Sven said. “Do you think I would use my veto power if I didn’t have a plan? We’re going to...um...” His words trailed off as he began scrolling furiously before suddenly stopping. “...Reinpikk Gorge! It’s got, uh...a big waterfall?”

“I’m sold,” Anna said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Alright, this might actually be fun,” Kristoff conceded. “Let’s be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”

* * *

Kristoff knew he was doing the thing he hates again; pretending to be excited about something for a girl. When he was seeing Samantha, he would always try to find time to go to wine tasting events with her, even though he couldn’t stand the people, the atmosphere, or the wine. She loved those things for reasons Kristoff could never really understand. Hiking was another one of those activities; he tried to feign excitement as much as he could for Anna’s sake.

But if he was being honest with himself, the moment they rolled into the parking lot of the park, he found himself drawn to its natural beauty. He’d done landscaping work on multiple occasions; he had to admit nothing compared to the real thing.

“I mean, just look at that, guys,” Sven said emphatically. “I hope everyone is now realizing just how brilliant of an idea this was, thank you, thank you, tips are not necessary but very much appreciated.”

“Give it a couple hours and a few dozen mosquito bites,” Kristoff said, half-sarcastically.

“You ever heard of bug spray, wise guy?” Sven said.

“I’m just excited to bother you guys about all the different plants,” Ryder chimed in.

Anna was silently giddy, eager to be in nature, happy to be past her problems with Kristoff, and glad to be such close friends with the three of them. As they all climbed out of Sven’s car and prepared for the hike, she could feel her excitement growing. She began to wander away from the car, Sven and Kristoff too caught up in their own argument to notice.

“Uh, Anna?” Ryder called after her. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, is nobody following me?” Anna said, spinning on her heels and noticing Sven and Kristoff still at the car. “Hey, guys! We get it, you’re an old married couple, now come on!”

Kristoff found himself once again getting wrapped up in Anna’s own excitement. He caught up to Anna while Sven did his best to stifle his urge to shout after him. After all, this was his idea, and if Kristoff was only going to be excited because of Anna, then Sven would happily take that.

* * *

“You have no idea where we are, do you?” Kristoff asked Sven.

“Hush, getting lost is half the fun!” Anna said, slapping Kristoff’s arm with the back of her hand.

“So I’ve been seeing a lot of perennial weeds, which means we’re near water,” Ryder said.

“Yeah, obviously we’re near water, Ryder,” Kristoff grumbled. “That’s one of the defining characteristics of a gorge.”

“No, I mean we’re closer to water than we were,” Ryder corrected. “There’s also a higher concentration of evergreens, which is important because--”

“Okay, we get it, Doctor Plant,” Sven teased. “Look, none of y’all had to follow me off the trail, I just wanted to channel my inner Lara Croft.”

Anna imagined Sven in a too-small blue tank top and tiny brown shorts. She was amused as much as she was repulsed by the image. She couldn’t deny that she wanted to be a little adventurous as well; she hadn’t been this immersed in nature since she and Elsa left her parents. She looked to her right and spotted a large boulder, covered in cracks and crags, perfect for climbing.

“Hey, Kristoff, can you come over here? I need a spotter,” Anna said, already walking off in the direction of the giant rock.

“Wait, Anna, we should--” Kristoff turned to see Sven striding confidently away, Ryder close behind studying the flora. He let out a sigh, but if he was being honest with himself, this was an ideal scenario. Just him and Anna, completely alone, separated from everyone by a veil of nature. Completely unafraid to be himself. He quickly caught up to Anna.

“God, I forgot how fun this is,” Anna remarked, searching for a handhold on the rock face. “Did you ever do anything like this?”

“No, not really,” Kristoff answered absentmindedly, his gaze affixed on Anna’s ponytail fluttering in the gentle breeze.

“I used to go rock climbing all the time,” Anna said as she began to scale the rock, making Kristoff nervous. “I used to…” Anna’s words trailed off as she strained to reach a new handhold, trying to plant her feet where her hands had just been. Kristoff moved under her, his hands upturned, prepared to catch her if she slipped.

“You used to…?” Kristoff said.

“Oh yeah, I used to have a dream of...of climbing Mount Everest, but...then I learned people...regularly die on the way--”

Suddenly, her hand slipped. She shrieked as she fell backwards off the rock. She hung in the air for a second that felt like an eternity. Her heart rose and her stomach dropped, her hands grasped fruitlessly at the air, and her breath caught in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the impact with the ground.

The impact wasn’t harsh or abrupt, but rather warm and soft, like she collided with a giant teddy bear. She opened her eyes to see herself in an undignified position on Kristoff’s lap, who had collapsed onto his rear end when she fell into him. She looked up at his face just in time to hear him say “Jesus, Anna, are you okay?”

Typical, Anna thought. The two of them going to Ikea alone, her falling onto him after being separated from the other two—it’s like the universe was begging them to get together. She pressed her hand to her heart and found that it was racing, threatening to burst out of her chest. It was the combination of exertion, shock, and the sudden contact with Kristoff causing her heart rate to skyrocket.

“Yeah, I’m—I’m fine,” Anna stammered, readjusting herself, but not yet climbing out of Kristoff’s embrace. “I’m glad I asked you to follow me.” She laughed nervously.

“No kidding,” Kristoff said. “How about we just walk from now on?”

“Or you could carry me,” Anna responded, laying one arm around his neck.

Kristoff laughed. “No, no, we’re not doing that,” he said as he stood up, hoisting Anna onto her feet. “Come on, let’s see what’s on the other side of this.”

They started walking parallel to the wall Anna had just tumbled from. They didn’t say anything to each other for a little while, comfortable with just being alone with each other. Then, Kristoff remembered they had never finished their conversation from earlier.

“So, you wanted to climb Mount Everest?”

Anna snorted. “Yeah, but then I started doing research on what it would take to achieve that, and I decided it just wasn’t worth it.” Her eyes wandered, her words and her mind out of sync with each other. “And, y’know, I had other goals, more realistic ones, like starting my own animal shelter, officiating my sister’s wedding, making a perfect crème brûlée, stuff like that. And some of them I’ve already achieved, like making a group of friends on my own, being a better person than my parents are, finding someone I want to spend the rest of…” Her words trailed off. She snapped her head to look at Kristoff. “Am I talking too much? Is any of this TMI? I’m sorry if it is, I just--”

“Anna, you’re totally fine,” Kristoff chuckled. “Honestly it’s inspiring to hear about your goals, considering...well…” Kristoff shrugged, then hunched his shoulders. His eyes pointed at the ground. “...I’ve never really had goals like that.”

“Really?” Anna asked. “You’ve never wanted something so deep in your bones that you would, like, jump into a volcano to get it?”

“No, not really,” Kristoff admitted, almost embarrassed to say, knowing how driven and determined Anna was by contrast. “My parents...well, they settled in a big way. My dad had a promising career as an architect and my mom could have easily sung at the Met if she wanted to, but they both agreed to give up their potential to live much simpler lives.” Kristoff sighed, a sound dripping with regret. “Their decision must have rubbed off on me.”

“Wow, Kristoff,” Anna said, doing her best to sympathize. “I’m really sorry.”

“No need to be,” Kristoff said. “I’m fine.”

Anna knew he wasn’t fine. He looked at his face to see his normally boyish features locked in contemplation, making him appear older than he was.

“Well, you know what, Kristoff?” Anna began with an encouraging tone. “Now’s as good of a time as any. Let’s come up with some goals for you!”

Kristoff smiled a sad smile. “You don’t need to do that for me.”

“You say that like I don’t want to. I do,” she retorted. “Before my mom was a bitch, she was a guidance counselor, and I learned a few things from her.”

Kristoff’s sad smile turned cheerful, despite how he tried to oppress it; the tiny wrinkle on the bridge of his nose betrayed his true feelings. “Alright, why not?”

“Yay!” Anna clapped her hands a few times before gathering herself. “So before we come up with any giant goals, let’s start with small ones. Is there something you’ve wanted to do for a while, but never gotten around to it?”

Kristoff hummed and made a show of scratching his head. “Well...I guess...I’ve always wanted to read the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy.”

“Okay, that’s a great start! Were you a big reader as a kid?”

“Yeah, but ‘Lord of the Rings’ always felt out of reach to me, and by the time I was old enough I--well, the friends I hung out with were way more into sports, so I just kinda stopped reading.”

“Well, I know it’s cliché at this point, but there’s no time like the present!” Anna’s words were bursting with optimism, their infectious energy broadening Kristoff’s smile.

“Yeah, it’s true. I guess that’s why it’s a cliché, right?” They smiled at each other, their eyes sparkling with each other’s light.

Anna blinked, coming out of her daze. “Okay, so what else?” She vaulted over a rock the size of a large dog while Kristoff walked around it. “Any places you want to see? Any skill you want to learn?”

“Oh my god, I used to want to play the accordion!” Kristoff said, his head craning back like the memory struck him in the forehead.

“Really!?” Anna exclaimed, a wave of giddy excitement rushing through her.

“Yeah, I used to be really into Weird Al when I was a little kid. But I ended up getting a guitar one Christmas instead.”

“Okay, so as your guidance counselor, I would tell you to get an accordion for yourself. As your roommate, well, not so much.”

“What about a guitar?”

“A guitar’s fine, a guitar’s nice and quiet.” Anna smiled broadly. “See? You already have two goals: read ‘Lord of the Rings’ and learn guitar! Who knows, you might start a ‘Lord of the Rings’ band in the future!”

“Yeah,” Kristoff said, something else piquing his interest. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Anna said, suddenly nervous. They stood in silence for a bit before Kristoff turned and walked in the direction of whatever he was hearing.

“Kristoff, wait!” She hurried after him. “We shouldn’t--” she started to say, but then she heard what Kristoff must have been hearing too: a massive volume of water, a sound that could only be coming from a waterfall. She rushed ahead of Kristoff, eager to see what had sold her on the hike in the first place.

First, she saw the enormous granite wall of the gorge that the water had carved out of the earth. There were shrubs and small trees dotting the surface, but for the most part the rock was bare, providing a stark contrast with the scenery of the rest of the hike. Then she saw the top of the waterfall, the river above it roiling and churning as it tumbled over the edge. Finally, once she reached the lip of the gorge, she looked down at the entirety of the waterfall as a joyful smile spread across her face.

The water leapt and danced over the rocks as it tumbled downward. Mist lifted from the torrent, forming a rainbow that arced from the top of the waterfall to the base of the gorge. At the bottom, the water gathered in a swirling mass and continued deeper into the dense forest, unimpeded and unshaken, just as it had been at the top of the waterfall.

Kristoff caught up with her and had a similar, albeit subdued, reaction. His eyes were fixed more on Anna than they were on the natural splendor. He loved seeing her this happy and excited. He loved it more than he cared to admit to himself. If this is what it took for her to be as happy as she was, he would take her hiking every day at a different gorge each time, and then cut new gorges directly into the earth once she had seen them all.

He decided at that moment that he wasn’t going to hide his feelings for her anymore. He wanted to be with her.

“Hey, Anna?” Kristoff asked.

“Look at this, Kristoff!” Anna shouted, her voice full of reverence. “It’s so, so beautiful! I can’t believe it!” She giggled and laid a hand on Kristoff’s arm. “I’m really glad we’re seeing this together. It’s just so...so…” She waved her hand in the air, like it would help her find the right word. “...I don’t know, I just like doing things with you! When we’re by ourselves, you and me, I just feel like I can be excited, and I am excited about this waterfall and this hike, and you, and…” Again, she let her words trail off before elaborating further. “Sorry. Was there something you wanted?”

Kristoff stifled his nerves. He knew he fucked up once with her, but he also knew he’d been forgiven; it was part of the reason why it was so easy to fall back in love with her.

“...Can I, um...can I kiss you?”

Anna’s eyes popped. She wasn’t expecting him to say anything like that any time soon. Her reaction made Kristoff even more nervous.

“I mean, uh…” Kristoff stammered. “I--well, I would like to. I may? I mean, ay mi? Uh...may I? You don’t have to, I just, um…” Kristoff decided to stop talking. Fully expecting a rejection at this point, he began to turn away.

Anna didn’t even expect herself to do what she did next. She turned his face back toward her gently with her hand, stood on her tiptoes, and delicately laid her lips on his. Kristoff returned the kiss, a less graceful one, but a kiss all his own. A vulnerable, tender gesture of love.

Anna lowered herself, smiling gently, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. But when she noticed Kristoff’s unsure expression, her own face twisted in concern.

“Was that okay?” she asked.

Kristoff’s eyes darted to the side. His lips were pursed and twisted to the side. Anna was beginning to fear she did something terribly wrong.

Kristoff inhaled through his mouth, preparing to speak, but then shut it again. He tilted his head, like a puppy trying to figure out where a sound was coming from. Anna was all but mortified at this point. She thought her potential relationship with Kristoff was ending before it began, right before her eyes.

Finally, Kristoff spoke.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

All of Anna’s tension dissipated in an instant.

“Jesus, Kristoff, that was terrifying!” she shouted, slapping him on the arm.

“Oh my--I’m sorry! Really, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be!” Kristoff apologized.

“I thought you hated me! It looked like you were--oh, yes, by the way, I’d love to--but holy shit, don’t ever do that again.”

Kristoff smiled bigger than he had all day, embarrassed by his ambiguous reaction to the kiss, but also elated that she still had feelings for him. “Okay, okay, I promise. But also, yay!” he said.

Now it was Anna’s turn to look puzzled. “So, what changed? You were asking for space not too long ago.”

Kristoff responded without missing a beat. “I can’t afford to deny my feelings for you anymore.”

Anna blushed and gave Kristoff a quick peck on the cheek. “I won’t if you won’t.”

All of a sudden, Ryder and Sven emerged from the trees behind them.

“Are you guys done?” Sven asked.

Kristoff and Anna both turned to face them. “Have you guys been right behind us the whole time?” Anna asked.

“It was Sven’s idea!” Ryder accused.

“Not that bullshit again,” Sven said to Ryder. “Not the whole time,” he continued, turning back to Kristoff and Anna. He walked right up to the edge of the gorge. “Guys, can you make way for your king, please?” That, or a variation of it, is what Sven would say when he wanted a picture taken of him. Kristoff stepped down behind Ryder and Anna followed him.

“I need a pic of me in nature to balance out my Grindr profile,” Sven said to Kristoff. “That was kinda the whole motivation behind this trip for me.”

“Wait, your what?” Anna asked, like she had just heard a grand revelation.

Sven, Ryder, and Kristoff all slowly turned to look at her, each with the same expression on their face. Complete stunned silence.

Without warning, Ryder did something that was uncharacteristic of him as long as Anna had known him. He burst into hysterical laughter.

“Anna thought you were straight this whole time!” Ryder said to Sven between fits.

“Well, no one ever told me!” Anna shouted in an effort to defend herself.

“Wait, you actually never knew?” Kristoff asked.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t pick up on it!”

“Anna, don’t even worry about it,” Sven said, opting to be the voice of reason. “They’re just being stupid. But yeah, I’m like, really gay.”

Anna’s face was beet-red, but she smiled through her embarrassment.

“Actually, you know what?” Sven said with a new inflection. “I’m a package deal. Everyone get up here, we’re taking a group selfie!”

Hearing him say that made Anna’s heart lift. She knew she was an integral member of their crew now, but every time someone reiterated that fact, it made her so happy she could burst. She wrapped her arm around Kristoff and led him up to the edge, Ryder following shortly after. Sven pulled out his phone, opened the camera app, and held it at arm’s length, trying to fit everyone on the frame.

“Kristoff, crouch down, Anna, be taller, Ryder, you’re perfect. One, two, three, say bees!”

Kristoff and Anna didn’t have to say anything to smile. They couldn’t stop smiling.

[sugar-petals]

Your First Time With Yoongi

warnings ⚠️ femdom!reader, bondage, slapping, masturbation, name-calling, cunnilingus, wow yoongi gets NASTY 

word count: 2.6k | hc

↳ ♡ NOTE › for anon who also inspired the ‘first kiss with yoongi’ post. look what you’ve done. writing this made me lose my cool. let’s dive right into it.

you’ll probably be fooling around watching miscellaneous videos from your feed 

and sorting through some clothes for the upcoming friday dinner

at the cozy italian restaurant next door

when you see yoongi come home looking, maybe not concerned, but more lost in thought

it takes a day or more until you ask him about it

brooding yoongi always means he’s weighing the big decisions

that you already know

but how it could possibly be something sexual you didn’t expect at first

because the only thing he says is that your second monthiversary is coming up this sunday

you reply yoongi that’s such a funny term

he says yeah it just made him think

it takes another day until you realize that he’s been unobtrusive letting you read between the lines how you see fit

and make that decision vice versa

it is about time to bring the relationship to a next level

yoongi sees the way you look at him

the last few weeks were proof enough he was worth giving it a go. you both knew what you were in for

as of now, you did make out a little at hoseok’s last halloween party (yoongi was in such a cute ghost costume). and kissed a whole lot during your vacation in london all lovey-dovey. but you didn’t have a chat 

so you nudge him at breakfast. what about friday?

after going out, you’ll have a whole evening to talk things over at home. no stress no pressure

agreed says your boyfriend

friday comes, you get a nice spot at giorgio’s rooftop terrace restaurant

literally it’s perfect to set the tone, the night sky is clear

after splitting the bill on antipasti for you and chili pepper pizza for yoongi the mood is right for some intimate talk and there’s no wine needed

but not in front of giorgio’s other guests alright

you return home flirting

to sit in your tiny courtyard garden with the fairy lights on

as long as no mosquitoes show up you have a long and frank conversation with a lot of surprising turns...

monthiversary sex on sunday it is

three cheers on that!

yoongi is giddy all saturday long and takes ten minutes more in the bathroom than usual, and five more in the shower

as if he isn’t dapper and groomed already

sunday afternoon, you do feel your hands getting a little sweaty yourself

the time has come

this will be exciting

you both prepare the living room for the evening, equip the center table with everything needed, eat some light snacks and drink plenty of water beforehand

the sun sets boom a leonardo dicaprio dvd goes right into the player

you’re both comfy on the sofa, intertwined, it’s fucking cute

you feed yoongi some more pretzel sticks

he makes you laugh

and nuzzles into the nape of your neck cuz cat behavior

the atmosphere slowly changes when the movie does

with leo getting all frisky and sweaty on screen, yoongi’s hands also begin to fumble at your hips, your skirt

and eventually

with you just murmuring just enough hot ideas in his ears

slip down to spend their time caressing between your legs

yep yep

the party is getting started

his hands are only shaky until they find the right spot. 

a pianist is merely on edge until he hits his favorite key indeed. and yoongi is that pianist. 

you can tell by his movements how he considers you music. now let that sink in

you’re his favorite tune 

RIP panties. those huge bony fingers know how to soak them 

phew

they have endurance, too

you already know that this will be a passionate night

leo goes through twenty character arcs on screen while yoongi is still flicking those tips

really. getting. into it. stimulating you with one, two, three fingers at once, curling, rubbing, stroking, dipping

miss clit says thank you

no finger cramps in sight with mister ‘miraculous’ min yoongi

meanwhile, poor leo falls victim to the pause button

you repeat the safeword to each other

‘two’

(because second monthiversary ok)

and here we go

flustered yoongi sits up, you pulling that FG shirt off, him then leaning against the backrest of the couch with legs splayed laxly

you climbing on top face to face

hot hot hot

yoongi wants restraints, he said. restraints he gets. a dozen feet of loose hemp rope are waiting on the table already.

you bind his hands before the chest, mainly knotting the rope around the wrists with an extra simple tie that keeps it foolproof. 

you do have safety shears on the table also

it took some time to remember the knot but it was some interesting stuff to learn

and... we’re talking yoongi’s sexy hands

what won’t you do just to see them tied fuck yes 

a kiss follows

long, deep, and increasingly lewd

only interrupted by you taking off your top and panties. the skirt stays on although it’s getting a little shoved up

yoongi remains seated as he is, starstruck as hell cuz your body has him fucked up

in the meantime you turn around to press your ass right against yoongi’s crotch

with a some more audacity right there

not taking any chances beyond this point

the poor guy

steady ruts and gyrating are sure to fry his brain with you taking all the time in the world to rub your core all over his growing boner

the skirt only provides more friction to the whole game

“you’re so cruel, please, oh my god”

someone’s worried he blows his load way too early

well oops

“take it. lil’ sucker”

you gaze back over your shoulder. sweet, suffering yoongi has his eyes closed and bites right down on his lip. 

he looks more concentrated than when he produces something in the studio i’m telling you

with your every push and rub, the tent in his blue shorts gets more upright, the fabric even more tense

and his voice whinier

and your pussy much wetter 

that’ll be quite a bit of laundry tomorrow

with every new grind you realize

better have mercy and slip a condom on before he does cum in his pants 

regardless you decide that your new favorite hobby is to tease the living hell out of him

by just how stiff he really is you can tell there are in fact two people enjoying that

holy shit when you get his pants off there’s a sight to behold

honey boy loves the cruel girls

it’s no secret yoongi is a fan of all things technology but damn he really is a master with the electric razor those are some pube gardening skills on fire

and he smells so good

and that juicy dick

is just one of a kind

UGH

the lube that’s been waiting on the couch table... will have to keep waiting forever 

hallelujah you’re dripping

“that’s... not going to be a long ride, yoongi”

“i, i know”

(just how much of a han solo is he!)

“should we wait for a minute?”

“probably better”

the boy gets the best of you it seems 

oh, sweet horniness.

a two minute TLC break gets the racing pulse down and the suspense up

admittedly just cuddly stuff with yoongi doesn’t make it any better

he. really. smells. so. good.

sandalwood, jasmine, something herbal, whatever it is, that mix makes your mind implode

“yoongi. i want you.” 

so bad.

just seeing him with his big dark teddy eyes and bound hands is kind of a fucking lot to take in okay

not to mention his voice just getting that extra deep edge when he tells you he wants you too

FUCK

the two minutes are so hard to bear, you just want to get going and ride him and hear all those slutty moans

and corrupt his every inch

as per friday evening you know yoongi doesn’t plan to fall short on the vocal department whatsoever and who can blame him. his raspy baritone is a surefire way to make your thighs tremble

and by virtue of profession, rappers aren’t known for staying silent when it comes to issues they’re passionate about aren’t they

rolling down the rubber you grabbed from the table is challenging enough because good heavens you’re touching him this way for the first time it’s just hard to believe and hard to the touch

his breath accelerates big time

you’re careful but also firm enough to ground him 

“ok, shall we?”

yoongi’s desperate hum in reply comes with two quick nods

slow, slow, slow, take it slow you say to yourself

but your wetness doesn’t lie. 

yoongi’s piano hands were like an open sesame to your walls

they went pop 

let’s get down to business bring that cock

you crave that filling BAD

when you align and slip him in with one not so steady hand cuz jesus christ you’re completely high-strung

those teddy eyes are on you like big brother 

because yoongi monitors hard for any discomfort you might have

he probably realizes that he’s not a desert-dry 9:50 PM tampon on the fifth period day when the backsides of your thighs cushion down on his loins

WHEW, THAT SLIP

better than any conditioner out there 

he’s in

it stuffs you so well, you can’t help but moan out

yoongi’s hypervigilance still hasn’t entirely faded though

“is that okay, does it hurt? is it—”

“shush, bun. watch.” testing, you give yoongi a good first bounce, far up and down, that baywatch slow motion... mother of god, your labia have a sweet time stretching around him. “it’s very okay.”

“a-alright,” he says

oh god yeah

another bounce on that. it’s already an addictive feeling

that’s what yoongi meant by ‘seesaw’

you rest your hands on his shoulders — and they’re made for that, i mean they’re just that broad — and really feel into how he glides in so nicely

with a slick and noisy plunge

gotta make sure to really savor all of those facial expressions from him ‘cause they’re pretty damn intense you have to give him that. never did you even fathom how his eyebrows could just escalate like this

yoonaerys targaryen!

that cock’s too good

so sleek. and comfortable 

advantages of having a perky lil dick 

he fills out your walls so perfectly

this is getting so heated, watching his body become so twitchy, his tied hands

with all those red blotches at his neck. 

it doesn’t take many more movements, no matter how playful the edge

that you have to pull off and enter phase 2 of TLC breaks with yoongi’s dick resting against his stomach all sensitive

this time you french kiss 

that’s how you know yoongi is not just a sucker. he’s a sucker

obsessed with nibbling at your lips and guzzling your saliva like wtf that’s not a break yoongi that’s making your girlfriend cum like new year’s eve fireworks

are all daegu boys freaky like that what is in the groundwater there?

you have to stop his hungry mouth and take a long damn breath

why is yoongi such a sex bomb

though what’s not to love about it

seriously you can’t take it much longer and he sees that 

“you wanna use your fingers, babe?”

“if you allow me,” he licks his lips, which means adding fuel to the fire, he can’t help it.

“say please.”

“please.”

you start to fiddle with the rope knots

yoonaerys targaryen soon has free hands

rope marks suit him so well, that shit just turns you on even more

time to switch it up then the final is around the corner

changing spots on the sofa, you recline, legs apart

yoongi slowly rubs you off with his flat palm to keep the pressure light

and not to overstrain his wrists too soon

then comes the infamous naughty tongue lowering down to your pelvis... nipping, swift and staccato. you have rightfully dreaded this moment because geez he hooks you on it 

next comes

the tip of his cock. i know right, good grief. guided by keen hands, rubbed against your clit, patting it, poking it, glazing it until it’s all coated all wet and pulsing like mad, what the fuck yoongi 

he makes you completely swollen

and repeat

it’s a triple t(h)reat technique adapted straight from the realms of fiery hell

palm, tongue, cock rubbing against you. palm, tongue, cock. palm, tongue, cock.

YOONGI HAS YOU SCREAMING AND WINDING

that demonic trick is guaranteed not to go on for very long 

point of no return says hiya, i’m here to mess you up girl

next turn his curling tongue comes to visit and dips between your labia

you can’t hold back anymore

and blow up in his face

whatever control there has been in your legs has now shut down entirely

yoongi has to deal with the full dose of slowly oozing jizz cuz boy he just buries his face even deeper once he sees the contractions starting

at this point he has solidified his sucker reputation

mister miraculous min just keeps eating and slurping while you cum your soul out. the pleasure is like a current taking over

making you curse

until you’re running of breath

with ‘point of no return’ handing the baton to ‘dizzy overstimulation’ you pull yoongi’s head out from between your thighs by the hair

yoongi kneels before you ruined

man... his face is dripping 

he even got cum in his lashes

“shit, yoongi!”

“please. punish, i want, i, please”

seldom that yoongi’s rapper mind says sorry i’m out like that

looking back it makes sense. who orders a flaming chili pepper pizza for date night but a grade a masochist 

cue friday evening protocol

you fumble off the very slippery condom and grip his cock by the base. hard.

with your other hand just in reach of his face

in comes a ringing slap to his right cheek

“a—ah, ah! more!”

slut yoongi is back in town and his cock really has to stay strong

because holy hell you jerk him off fast

getting greedy and erratic

yoongi cries out his orgasm with a whole white milky mess landing on his stomach, his thighs, your hand, your skirt, who knows he might have shot a constellation into the sky if it wasn’t for the ceiling

with the last drops gushing out, a giant fatigue pulls the plug on him

oh man

his hair goes in all directions. his face is slapped red, his wrists are marked, he came all over himself.

100% sex wreck 

you can barely keep yourself steady either

but you can at least reach for the soon-to-be-dirty-laundry towel on the table 

and clean up your salivating puffy teddy 

only to pull him close to you

two fucks covered in sweat all slack on the sofa, worn out

but happy

yoongi keeps on babbling and breathing hard 

seeking out closeness to your belly

you let him lie down his head on there

time to pull a blanket over the two of you right there once everything cools down

yoongi gazes up at you a bit cheeky even if he’s super tired

“kinda know what you’re thinking”

“that’s what a monthiversary has to be like”

“nothing to add”

“except: repeat tomorrow”

wrapping up the weekend all sloppy is a good luck charm for monday

“my bad. of course”

“you’re just amazing, you know that.”

“i was gonna say that to you”

safe to say that guy has your heart

“so... same time, same place, different movie?”

“sure babe i’m in”

while you both doze off, intertwined just as before  

you can’t help but think

man that was life-changing

[dinoyoongi]

Confirm or Deny (3)

SYNOPSIS: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

PARTS: ONE | TWO | THREE |  FOUR

PAIRING: Namjoon x You

GENRE: Romance, Angst

WARNINGS: Language, brief mentions of sexual situations

WORD COUNT: 4473

AUTHORS NOTE: I’m not sure how many parts this will have - I’m just going to write until I’m satisfied and break them up in chunks. Please show it some love if you like it and want more! And yes, this is inspired by the very real “scandal” between iKON’s Yunheyong and Momoland’s Daisy.

__________________________________

Coming as a surprise to absolutely nobody, the news of BTS' Grammy nominations explodes like a million sticks of dynamite. The boys are not only featured on pretty much every media outlet across the globe, they're also receiving interview requests from elite news sources such as CNN and BBC News. Also a surprise to nobody is that you haven't seen Namjoon in two weeks, when you were kissing and twirling around the living room of your dorm before he rushed out after hearing the nomination news. He's sent you a few texts updating you on his many schedules but aside from a few insanely quick video chats, you haven't spoken much to your boyfriend. That's why when he calls on a rainy Thursday afternoon and tells you that he has a few hours free and wants to see you, you nearly break a leg as you hurry to get dressed, not wanting to miss even a minute of the scarce time you both have together.

By the time you're finished getting ready, Namjoon is already ringing to be let in. Opening the door wide, you spring into his arms, wrapping your limbs around his body as he lifts you off of the ground, your toes barely dusting across the hardwood. He's frowning when he sets you down, his eyes roaming around the dark and empty dorm.

“Did they leave you here alone again?” he asks, his voice dripping with concern.

“It's not their fault. The comeback is only a few weeks away. They're putting the finishing touches on everything,” you defend, although you can't help the way your chest pangs at the mental image of your group together – sans you – working on the song that you were so passionate about. “On the upside, my manager is too busy with them to worry about what I'm doing so I'm a free woman for the night. Where do you want to go?”

“Actually,” Namjoon begins nervously as you pull your bag up over your shoulder. “I thought we could stay in tonight.”

You frown, your eyes moving toward the bay window that showcases the gray skies and heavy drizzle. “But it's miserable outside. This is perfect date weather.”

Because paparazzi and fansite cameras are so expensive, it's rare that you find someone crazy enough to follow idols and celebrities out into the rain to take pictures. Because of this, most idols choose to specifically plan their dates around crappy weather. It's a well kept secret amongst the community of idols and something that you and Namjoon took advantage of whenever you could.

“We get a whole dorm to ourselves. Why not make good use of it?” Namjoon grins, leaning against the back of the sofa. His eyebrows waggle mischievously but he's anything but cute to you right now.

“Namjoon, I've had this whole dorm to myself for the past two weeks and I'm sick of it. I want to go out and do something, even if it's just a quick walk around the block. I need fresh air.”

Namjoon hears the demand in your tone. You're leaving absolutely zero room for argument. He suppress a sigh as he glances quickly towards the window. The rain wasn't supposed to last all afternoon. When the sun comes back out, so do the people of Seoul. It was definitely too risky to be out and about, especially with everything going on, but the look of determination in your eyes wasn't something that Namjoon wanted to tamper with. Especially not when he knew just how low your spirits have been lately.

“Compromise?” he asks softly. You nod, motioning for him to continue. “We take a walk to get some coffee, maybe find a bench so you can get the oxygen you want so badly. After that, we get snacks and head back here to hang out for awhile. Deal?”

“Okay but you're buying the snacks, Mister Grammy,” you tease, slipping your wrist around his elbow to link your arm with his. His limbs stiffen at the contact and you frown, pulling away slightly to look up at him questioningly. You're offered no explanation, only a tight-lipped smile and head jerk toward the door. A voice inside of your head is urging you get to the bottom of this. Namjoon has never tensed or pulled away from your touch before – is he angry at you? Is he annoyed with you? The thoughts bite at you like a swarm of mosquitoes but not wanting to ruin the rare evening you have together, you bite your tongue and follow him out the door.

__________________________________

“Jungkook is convinced that we're going to lose …” Namjoon trails off as his head swirls around to survey your surroundings for what seems like the thousandth time, “... to Billie Eilish. He's happy we're nominated but he doesn't want to get his hopes up.”

“Jungkook needs to have more faith in you guys. You have just as much of a chance as Billie does.”

“That's what I've been telling him. And even if we do lose, it's still ...” he loses his focus again, eyes squinting to stare at something in the distance. You're overcome with frustration. While he walked away from the dating scandal with Grammy nominations, you were the one who was punished and pulled from your group's anticipated comeback. He hasn't suffered. He hasn't been impacted. So why is he so paranoid right now? “... an honor to be nominated, you know?”

“It took you a whole forty-five seconds to finish that sentence,” you sneer, unable to resist the urge to be sassy. You can see the way Namjoon's face balks in your peripheral but you walk alongside him, eyes on the scenery in front of you.

“Is it wrong to be alert, Y/N? We have to be careful. We can't afford another-”

“Another what? What did the scandal cost you? Absolutely nothing.”

He freezes. You're a few steps ahead of him before you realize he's not beside you anymore. You turn in his direction but keep your chin tilted at the sidewalk at your feet. “Sweets.”

“Sorry for snapping at you. The coffee shop is just ahead,” you mumble lowly, jutting your thump in the buildings direction. Namjoon's hand wraps around your wrist before you can take anymore steps away from him. When he pulls you into his body, your back fitting against his chest like two perfect puzzle pieces, you don't fight him. Your body sags against his as you exhale long and slow, all of your repressed anger deflating. He buries his face into your shoulder, nuzzling the tip of his nose along the expanse of your neck.

“I'm so sorry, Sweets. I know it's unfair. You don't deserve any of this.”

“No, I'm sorry. None of this is your fault. I shouldn't be taking my anger out on you,” you apologize, finding his hand on your stomach and entwining your fingers together with an assuring squeeze.

“As happy as I am about the nominations, I feel awful about the timing. I feel like … I feel like I'm kicking you down a little bit every time I talk about it.”

Your head snaps up and you whirl around quickly to face him. He's startled when you raise onto your tiptoes and grip both sides of his face with your small hands. “Joonie, please don't feel bad. I've been your biggest fan since day one. Nobody is more happy and proud of you for those nominations than me, okay? The timing is perfect because with, you know… my group … going on without me, I can devote all of my time to you and the boys and making sure that you all walk into that building knowing with absolute certainty that you're going to win. BTS' own personal cheerleader.”

Namjoon knows you. He sees and hears right through your smiling eyes and confident words. Despite what you're saying, there's a sadness to how you've been carrying yourself. He vows to change that.

Reaching up, you knock softly on the side of Namjoon's head. “Knock, knock. Come on, Boyfriend, I'm thirsty. Let's go get that coffee.”

He laughs and when your back is turned, takes one more quick look around the area before letting you pull him forward.

_________________________________ 

You inhale so sharply that your vision blurs for a split second but it's worth it when the strong aroma of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries wafts into your senses. “If they make candles that smell like coffee shops, I want at least five in every room of the dorm.”

“I'll buy you all of the coffee shop scented candles in the world. And if nobody is making them yet, Big Hit might find themselves investing some stock in Yankee Candle.”

You're giggling as his phone begins to vibrate in his back pocket. Namjoon pulls it out quickly and you catch a glimpse of Taehyung's name before the device is yanked out of your line of vision. Namjoon nods at the shop in front of you. “Go on in and order me an Americano. I'll just be a minute.”

“Okay but tell Taehyung I said hi and that I miss him.”

Namjoon nods curtly, raising the phone to his ear but waiting until you're yanking open the door and disappearing inside before answering. Realizing that you don't know if Namjoon wants a pastry and what he's in the mood for, you duck your head outside. His back is to you as he paces in small steps.

“My mom's birthday is coming up. I'm out doing some present shopping. No, I'm not alone, one of the managers is with me.”

Wait. Why is he lying to Taehyung?

You could understand if it was a staff member calling to check on his whereabouts. It would open a brand new can of worms if they found out he was roaming around in public with you after the last media scare. But Taehyung wouldn't judge him. Neither would any of the other guys. And they certainly wouldn't reveal your plans to any of the staff. Namjoon knows this. So why is he lying?

You slip back into the building before he realizes that you're eavesdropping. The line is moderately short, only one man and a group of three teenagers stand in front of you. You're studying the list of pastries on the board when you feel eyes burning into you. Knowing that your face mask is properly concealing half of your face and that a regular citizen who isn't familiar with your group won't recognize your eyes without your stage makeup, you decide to ignore it. You're focusing hard on the menu, contemplating the pros and cons between muffins and scones when a body steps into your line of vision, blocking the board from your sight. The person, one of the teenage girls from the group in front of you, squints with narrowed eyes at the upper half of your face. You lean away from her closeness.

“There's no fine dust today. Why are you wearing a mask?”

You scoff at her curiousness. “Am I not allowed to?”

She rolls her eyes at your attitude. “It's just weird, that's all. And you look kind of familiar. Do I know you?” Goosebumps line the length of your arms, your hairs rising as warning alarms begin going off in your head. Swallowing down your sudden terror, you return her eye roll. “Is it a crime to have a bad skin day? And no, I don't know you. Now if you excuse me, I think I've lost my appetite.��

You hear her sputtering in disbelief as you spin on your heel and quickly scurry out of the building. Namjoon is on the steps when you burst out the door, his eyes widening when you barrel past him, just barely successful in grabbing his hand on your way out to drag him with you. He's pestering you with questions as you tug him quickly away from the coffee shop.

“Yah!” he finally shouts, planting his feet firmly on the ground and yanking you backward to him. “What the hell is going on? Why did you run out there so fast?”

You open your mouth to tell him what happened. And then you stop yourself.

If you tell Namjoon the truth, that someone was on the verge of recognizing you, how quickly would he leave? How long would it be before you got the opportunity to be with him again? You know these answers and because of that, you choose to lie.

“That barista was really rude. She … commented on my weight when I tried to order a muffin.”

You feel guilty when your boyfriend's face twists in outrage. “What? Sweets, that's ridiculous. You're perfect! Why didn't you demand to speak to her manager?”

“There were a lot of people in there. I didn't want to cause a scene.”

He sighs because he knows that you're right, his fingers finding your waist and pulling you into his embrace. “I'll order you a million muffins, okay? Just say the word.”

“Chocolate chip and blueberry?” you ask in a comically high-pitched tone, batting your eyelashes up at him.

He laughs, raising his phone to his ear. “You got it, Sweets. Hello? Big Hit? I'm going to need you to build the biggest bakery in the world and have the staff make nothing except for chocolate chip and blueberry muffins. And they need to be delicious. The most delicious muffins in the whole damn world. Do I make myself clear?”

He's using his deep CEO face and you're hunched over in giggles, nearly out of breath. Reaching up, you playfully snatch the phone out of Namjoon's hand and up to your ear. “And coffee. With imported coffee beans. The best you can find. The fate of BTS' career depends on it.”

You're still laughing when you look up at your boyfriend, expecting him to be amused. Instead, his eyes are focused on something behind you. Craning your neck around, you make out a few figures standing on a hill down the path. It's too far away to see their faces but you recognize the colorful sweaters they were wearing immediately. You swivel at a neck-breaking speed back around to Namjoon, grabbing his arm to begin pulling him forward. “I can't believe they followed me,” you mumble under your breath without thought. Unfortunately, Namjoon hears it.

“Who followed you? Do you know those girls? Is it the one who was rude about the muffin?”

“No, they ...” you trail off, your brain working overtime to conjure up a believable lie. What reason would you have to avoid a group of teenage girls? You seriously have nothing. “They … were … they … almost recognized me.”

You admit defeat, confessing the truth. And just as expected, Namjoon's face twists with some kind of mixture of fury and panic. His dimples that usually make an appearance when he's happy and smiling are a double-edged sword, deep and prominent as his jaw twitches in anger.

“You were recognized? And you didn't tell me? We've been frolicking along and –”

You scoff. “There was no frolicking.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” he snaps at you. The way he uses your first name instead of Sweets confirms that he's really, really angry with you. “This was a really careless and dumb idea. We should have just stayed indoors.”

“I said they almost recognized me, Namjoon. I left before they could figure out who I was. Why are you freaking out right now?”

“Because we need be careful and because you lied to me!” he roars out the last part. Your feet subconsciously stumble a few steps away from him. In all of the years that you've known him, even before the two of you started dating, Namjoon has never shouted at you in this manner. Sure, you've had your fair sure of arguments and raised voices in the past but you can't recall a time that he has ever directed any kind of fury at you like he is right now. Exhaling a deep breath, he softens as he takes in your frightened state. “I'm sorry for yelling like that. I'm just stressed. How about we call it a day, okay? I'll call you later.”

He kisses your cheek so quickly that you feel like it might not have even happened. He leaves you no chance to argue or beg him to stay as he trudges quickly down the sidewalk and away from where you stand, still trembling at his outburst.

The group of teenage girls remain gathered at the top of the hill, their eyes fixed in your direction. You know that they're too far away to have possibly heard your fight with Namjoon but the thought doesn't bring you any comfort. As much as you'd like to stay outside and wallow in your own self-pity, you don't want to give those girls any opportunity to piece together who you are.

__________________________________

You're two blocks away from the dorm when you realize that Namjoon's phone is still in your hand. You sigh because it's been at least fifteen minutes since he stormed away in anger; he must have realized he didn't have his phone by now but he hasn't come back to retrieve it? Did he not want so see you that badly?

In a moment of brainlessness that you're not proud of it, you use your phone to dial Namjoon's phone to let him know that you are in possession of said phone. It isn't until Namjoon's ringtone – a short cut of a Drake song – begins playing that you register your dumb mistake. You can't help but laugh at yourself, a phone in one hand dialing the phone in your other hand that's ringing. But when you lift Namjoon's phone to disconnect the call, the name of the contact on the screen makes you freeze.

Chicken Place 2.

You click disconnect on your phone and the ringing on Namjoon's immediately stops. There's a tightening in your chest as you press the call button on Namjoon's contact. And again, the name pops up. Chicken Place 2.

You were saved in his phone as Sweets. You were always Sweets to him. When … when did that change?

The logical part of your brain understands why he did this. A fan getting hold of his phone and finding anything that sounds suspiciously like a pet name for a significant other is pretty damning evidence that an idol is dating. But Namjoon would never allow a fan to come anywhere near his phone. It's not just a talking and texting device to him; that phone holds thousands of precious photographs, note files that contain lyrics that have popped into his head at random times of the day that he didn't want to forget, social media accounts that nobody but you and the boys knew that he was secretly registered for.

Not even Big Hit staff knew that you were his Sweets. Only the boys did.

So … why change it? Was he embarrassed of you? Thinking back to how he lied to Taehyung about being with you earlier only makes the churning in your stomach intensify. Pulling up Namjoon's password protected menu, you type in the password. 2010913. You've unlocked his phone a million times with this password. You unlocked his phone two weeks ago with this password.

September 13th, 2010. The day that the two of you met as Big Hit trainees in the dance studio.

You whimper when the password is rejected.

Slumping down onto a nearby bench, you punch in the password again. And again. And again. Finally, the phone flashes in your face, taking an anti-theft photo, and you drop it to your lap, succumbing to your tears. Why was everything so different? Why did this scandal have to change everything between the two of you? You're wholly aware that you've been moody lately, sensitive to every word and action. It hasn't only been Namjoon that has been on the receiving end of your wrath, the other members of FRNZEE and even your managers have gotten healthy doses of your misery. But you weren't the only one who was acting out of character lately. Namjoon has always been one of the most relaxed people in your life but now he's acting as if he's in the witness protection program – looking over his shoulder every other second, lying to his friends, changing his passwords, changing his contact names. Is the thought of being in a public relationship with you so terrifying that he needs to jump through all of these hoops?

The sound of tires crunching against pavement has you tilting your chin up. The windows of the car are tinted but you know that it's Namjoon's silhouette behind the wheel. He approaches cautiously, gulping when he notices his phone on your lap.

“Sweets, why aren't you at the dorm? Why do you have-”

“Sweets?” you parrot, glancing up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Who is Sweets? My name is clearly Chicken Place Number Two.”

He groans in frustration, hands rubbing at his face. “It's just temporary, okay? I just don't want people asking questions.”

“People like who? Taehyung, who is under the impression that you're out shopping with your manager right now?” you counter, rising to your feet. His eyes enlarge when he realizes that you overheard his conversation earlier. “Why can't Taehyung know that you're with me, Namjoon?”

He's silent. You step closer to him.

“Joonie, why did you lie to Taehyung?”

His eyes flutter close, his neck dipping as he gulps down a sigh. “I told everyone that we broke up.”

Even though you hear the words that he mumbles so quietly, you make him repeat it.

“I told everyone that we broke up, okay? You … you kind of blew up on the internet as this … this joke and everyone was worried what it might do to our reputation if it really did come out that we were dating. But I promise you that it's only temporary, Sweets. After the awards are over and after everything has died down, I'm going to come clean to Big Hit that I'm still with you. We can go back to rainy dates outside but until then, I really just need us to lay low, okay?”

He's out of breath when he finishes. His eyes are wide and pleading as they scan your face for an answer. You're trying to process his words and for the most part, you're successful – he's only pretending to be broken up with you and he'll tell the truth soon. But it's the first part of his monologue that your heart can't move past.

He really is embarrassed of you. And not just him but BTS as a whole. The boys that you considered close friends, the man that you considered your soul mate … didn't want to be associated with you right now.

“You don't want to be attached to my name,” you say, mostly to yourself so you can confirm your thoughts. “You're embarrassed to be linked with me right now.”

“I never said that,” he denies heatedly. You scoff viciously. “Y/N, you can't deny that you've been made out to be some kind of meme. And I know that I'm partly to blame for that, I'm aware of it and I'm sorry. But I have to think of the boys first. We've worked way too hard to -”

“To let some internet joke ruin everything for you?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” he yells, towering over you. Unlike last time when you cowered under the volume of his anger, you raise yourself even higher to match his heated glare. “You know what? Maybe … maybe this shouldn't be temporary.”

And just like that, you're cowering again.

“What did you just say?” you squeak, the confidence and anger draining from your body. He leans against his car, rubbing his face again for what seems like the longest minute of your life before he glances up at you.

“Maybe until everything blows over … we should take a real break. I don't think this relationship is healthy for either one of us right now.”

With jelly-like limbs, you stagger backwards. You can't believe what you're hearing. He's really breaking up with you? “Namjoon, I don't want to break up with you. I just want-”

“I'm sorry,” he interrupts. His eyes are downcast on the sidewalk and you silently urge him to look at you. Just look at you and grin and tell you that he's just cruelly joking. You wouldn't even be mad at him for it. All he has to do is just look at you.

But he doesn't. He leans down to pick up his phone that had fallen off of your lap in the midst of the argument.

“You said you wouldn't do this,” you say desperately to his back. He freezes. “You said this wouldn't happen. You promised.”

“I'm sorry,” he repeats like a skipping record.

But he still doesn't look at you. Not when he's opening his car door, not when he's slipping inside and buckling his seat belt, not when he's starting the engine and driving away.

__________________________________

Namjoon parks the car outside of his dorm, shuts the car off and sits.

What did he just do? What in the fuck did he just do?

He didn't go back with the intention of breaking up with you. It was never his intention at all. But he was being pulled tightly in two different directions – his members and his staff who worried that being associated with rumors that involved you would have a negative impact on the awards seasons for BTS. And then there was you, who showered him in love and support and only wanted the same in return.

It seemed like you were asking for the littlest but to Namjoon, you were asking for the world. One that he can't give to you right now.

He grabs his phone from the front seat before he opens his car door, checking the screen for scratches or broken glass. When he powers it up, the first thing he sees is the anti-theft photo that his phone took as you were attempting to unlock it with the password that he changed four days ago. His chest throbs in pain when he sees the blurred picture of your red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

Whipping the phone across the vehicle, a scream of frustration and devastation rips through his throat as he slams his head down onto the steering wheel. The photo is ingrained into his head, the desolate downturn of your lips and the tears in your eyes are wrecking him.

What did he really just do?

[kinkykinard]

Beyond Survival

Fandom: Star Trek AOS. Pairing: Leonard McCoy X Reader. Word Count: 2064. Rating: Mature (18+). Summary: Three years in space takes its toll on a body, and you decide you want to get as far away from the Enterprise as possible for a week, even if it means facing the wildnerness. Author’s Note: For @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse‘s birthday challenge!  Happy now horribly belated birthday you gorgeous, lovely lady!  Love you tons!  Somewhat inspired by Kid Rock’s All Summer Long and with references to Camping with Bones.  Reposting because Tumblr apparently ate the first one.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this again.” Leonard chuckles from where he’s sunning himself on the beach next to you and turns his head to look at you. “We’ve been here for three days, darlin’,” he teases gently.  “And if memory serves, it was your idea.” You roll your eyes behind your sunglasses and sit up from where you’re lying on the blanket beneath a large umbrella at the edge of the lake Leonard had first brought you to on your first ever camping trip three years before under the guise of getting you survival certified. You’d hated it less than you’d thought you would back then, and while it’s painful to admit it, right now you’re really, genuinely enjoying yourself, even if you know you’ve got another night of getting bled dry by mosquitoes and sleeping on a camp cot ahead of you. “If you ever say you told me so, they’ll never find your body,” you threaten darkly as you shift to a standing position, brushing some sand from between your toes.

It’s for naught a moment later, though, as you just step onto the beach and feel the minute grains working their way right back into the spots you’d just cleared.  Wading closer to the lake you can’t help but feel tiny amidst the towering trees of the woods at your back and the mountain peaks breaking the panorama in the distance across the lake before you. Stepping forward, you take your time approaching the water line, glancing out at the gently rolling waves, inhaling the fresh air.  As you cross the threshold from wet to dry, you feel the water-kissed sediment beneath your feet shift with every step, and you gasp as a wave of glacial water licks at your ankles.  It’s almost too cold to bear, but you persevere as you hike up your beach skirt before it can drag in the wash.  The water feels amazing against your overheated skin and by the time you’re up to your thighs, the slight tremors that wracked your body wading in have subsided and you feel content. You close your eyes as the sun beats on your skin and you relinquish your hold on the hem of your skirt, letting it trail in the water, dragging your fingertips through the wash as it ebbs and flows around you.  It’s all stillness and near-silence around you for a few moments and then, suddenly, you’re being snapped out of your reverie by a warm set of hands coming to rest on your upper arms.  Whipping your head around and glancing over your shoulder, you come face to face with Leonard and he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “You scared me half to death,” you murmur only half-seriously. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Leonard says with a soft chuckle.  “Just wanted to come and enjoy the view with you.” “I thought I was the view,” you tease playfully. Leonard leans in closer and gently nips at the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his teeth eliciting an electrifying sensation.  His hands come up to where your bikini is tied between your shoulder blades and you inhale sharply as you feel him tug on the strings, letting them fall aside and freeing your breasts from the top’s cups. “Leonard!”  You admonish with a squeak, reaching up to hastily hold the suit in place. “What are you doing?!  What if someone sees?!” “It’s just you, me, and the birds out here, darlin’,” Leonard says softly.  “No one’s going to see, I promise.” As he speaks, his hands slip higher up along your back, reaching the ties at your neck.  You feel them come loose a half second later and gravity quickly comes to Leonard’s aid, pulling your top down as you move your hands away from your chest, leaving it floating on the waves and you exposed to the sunshine and mountain air. You bite your lip as his hands come to rest on your waist for a brief moment before slowly sliding up your sides and around to your chest.  His chest presses up against your back as he pulls you close and his hands come to cup your breasts, kneading them gently as his lips find purchase on your shoulder. His kisses are so gentle they feel like no more than the brush of butterfly wings against your skin and you exhale softly, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation. “You’re so beautiful,” Leonard murmurs into your shoulder. His hands are your undoing.  You sag in relaxation, grateful for the support of his body against yours as he massages your breasts, his thumbs occasionally flicking over your nipples.  It’s sensual more than anything and as your head drops back to rest against his collarbone you wish you could stay entwined with him forever. You don’t know how much time has passed by the time Leonard slowly, hesitantly slips his hands down away from your breasts but whether it’s been minutes or hours it’s been woefully little.  You reluctantly turn to face him, reaching out with one hand to fish out the bikini top that’s floating on the waves nearby feeling grateful that it hasn’t sunk yet. “Let’s head back in and have lunch,” Leonard suggests softly, leaning down a little to press a kiss to your forehead. You nod and shiver as he steps away from you, his body heat dissipating in the wake of his departure and leaving you chilled. Gritting your teeth, you slap the now-drenched bikini top back onto your chest and adjust it before reaching back to do up the ties.  It’s a clumsy and awkward process but you manage and wade into the shallows, wringing water out of your beach skirt as you go.  It doesn’t take you long to reach the spot where Leonard is packing up the umbrella and towels and you slip your feet into your sandals as you stop, grimacing at the feel of the sand between your shoes and skin. The walk back to the campsite is a quite one, but the silence is amiable.  You smile as the sun beats down on your face and shoulders, and as birdsong fills your ears and carries you far away from all of your worries back on the Enterprise. You’re still shaken and exhausted after the weeks-long combat situation that pre-empted the shore leave and so the further away from it all you can put your mind, the better. “Go ahead and get changed, I’ll get a fire started,” Leonard instructs you. You snap out of your reverie and realize that you’ve reached the campsite while you were lost in thought.  You smile and nod, half-surprised that he’s not coercing you into proving to him you remember everything he taught you during survival training by having you start the fire. It takes you only a few minutes to strip out of your wet clothes, dry off, and pull on a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top.  Once you’ve gotten your feet into a pair of hiking boots, you make your way over to where Leonard’s already got a fire going and wrap your arms around his waist as he leans in to stoke it. “What’s for lunch?”  You ask. “I’ve got some chili stewing, and I was just about to whip up some corn bread,” Leonard replies. “That sounds amazing,” you say enthusiastically, suddenly ravenous at the thought of it. “Well it won’t take too much longer,” Leonard assures you with a smile.  “And if you’re still looking to work up a bit more of an appetite, I could use a little more firewood.” “Consider it done,” you say with a nod. You hurry off into the woods, glancing around for hazards and wild animals as you stoop down here and there to pick up some nice, dry pieces of wood.  You’re still a little uneasy being out in the forest by yourself, but the late afternoon sunlight still illuminates enough of the surrounding area that you won’t be surprised by anything creeping up on you. With a bundle of firewood in your arms, you finally turn to make your way back to the campsite.  You can’t see the path immediately ahead of you and so you try awkwardly to feel your way around with the toes of your boots.  You know you’re nearly back at the site when you start to smell smoke on the air and see glimpses of Leonard’s heathered gray t-shirt through the trees.  You’re just about to call to him when your foot catches a root and you’re sent sailing through the air and sprawling out on the ground. You groan as pain flares in your chest, dragging in a lungful of air after being winded upon landing.  You can feel scrapes smarting on your hands and knees and there are loose pieces of wood jabbing at you from all sides.  You’re about to roll over onto your back to relieve some of the discomfort when a pair of boots appears in your view and you glance up to meet Leonard’s concerned gaze as he crouches in front of you. “Alright there, sugar?”  He asks. You grunt at him and slowly haul yourself onto your knees, hissing as you’re reminded of the scrapes there.  You take the hand he offers to help you to your feet moments later and glance around at the wood you’ve scattered everywhere. “Fine,” you reply at last.  “Only my pride is irreparably damaged.” Leonard chuckles and reaches out, gently taking your face in hand and tipping it up.  As you stretch your neck a bit, you feel a stinging at your chin and realize you’ve scraped it, too.  Rolling your eyes, you pull away from his hold and stoop to pick up the wood, piling it back up awkwardly and starting off toward the campsite again, being careful to avoid the root that did you in the last time. Back at the campsite, you offload the bundle of wood next to the fire pit and step back to take stock of yourself. Leonard is right behind you and before you can protest, he leads you over to the truck and guides you to sit up on the tailgate while he retrieves his med kit.  As he pulls out the antiseptic and salve, you set your face in a contemplative albeit grim expression, earning yourself a quirk of his eyebrow. “What’s on your mind?”  He asks. “I’m trying to decide what’s worse – this or the sprained ankle from last time,” you explain. Leonard shakes his head and gives you a second to brace yourself against the stinging before he goes to work on cleaning out the wounds on your palms and knees.  It’s unpleasant but the discomfort becomes a bit muddled as you take in the expression of utmost care and concentration on his handsome face. It doesn’t take him long to finish with your wounds even with as much care as he’s using to avoid causing you any further pain and before long you’re sliding off of the tailgate and brushing the leftover dirt from your clothes. “The chili should be done by now,” Leonard offers as he returns from putting the med kit away.  “A hearty lunch is the cure for what ails you.” You snort at the sentiment and step forward instead, wrapping your arms around Leonard’s waist as your chest connects with his. “How about a little kiss to make it better instead?”  You suggest. “I think that can be arranged…”  Leonard trails off as he dips his head down a little, his lips brushing yours gently before coming in closer for a proper kiss. Soon, his hands are lost in your hair and yours are slipping under the fabric of his shirt to stroke along the skin of his ribcage.  The two of you become entwined in one another as you deepen the kiss and it’s not long until the chili is all but forgotten.   The two of you spend the next hour consummating the trip on one of the camp cots in the tent and as you lie tangled in each other’s arms in a post-coital bliss surrounded by the sounds and smells of summer in the woods, you can’t help but smile at your choice of destination for this shore leave.   It’s just what the doctor ordered.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Music City (musician/singerDean/photographerCas, 4.4k, set in Nashville)

Cas, a famous photographer, returns home after a long trip taking photos for his latest project. He wants nothing more than to spend the next day relaxing. His plans change when an enchanting melody is heard from outside. Do his plans have to change, or can he work around the handsome musician who stumbled onto his property?

(Read on Ao3)

           The smell of grilled cheese wafts from the griddle and up towards Cas’s nose, triggering a smile and a soft sigh. He shifts it around with the spatula, delighting in the way the bread and butter sizzles and the cheese melts. It’s not the first grilled cheese he’s ever had, but this meal had become part of a ritual of sorts. Grilled cheese is always the first thing he makes when he comes home after a long trip.

           It started when he was younger, because of an opportune accident when his family returned from a weeklong vacation in Appalachia. There was barely anything in their kitchen save the simplest ingredients, so his mother set to work on making seven grilled cheeses for their large family. Time has dwindled the amount of sandwiches needed to one, for himself. And though it’s been years since that first grilled cheese, the sight of it, the smell, and when it’s ready the taste, will fully cement in the reality that he’s home.

           Cas glances around his kitchen, taking it all in. When he got in late last night, he didn’t have anything in mind except his bed. Dropping his bags at the door and shedding his clothes in a messy trail his eyes shut before he hit the mattress. He woke up close to noon, later than usual. Unfortunately, while the teen he paid to make sure his plants were watered and furniture dusted, they hadn’t restocked his fridge nor pantry. Forcing himself into an outfit, Cas drove to the closest supermarket. He didn’t buy much, however, only getting what was necessary for the grilled cheese. He won't be leaving again tomorrow.

           In fact, he doesn’t plan on going on a trip for a long time. His most recent one was already longer than he realized, the fifth month of touring the states dragging on deliriously. He would have went insane in his camper if not for his lovely dogs, Birdie and Bee. Birdie is an American Foxhound, and one of the sweetest girls he knows. She’s also famously lazy. There are countless moments where Bee chased him around in an open field while Birdie lounged wherever the sunlight was strongest. Bee, his Anatolian Shepherd Dog, was Birdie’s opposite. She always needed to be moving in some way, even if just wagging her tail as he drove along the open highways.

           They were as glad to be home as he was. He let them out earlier to roam his wide back yard. His house had no fencing, preferring his home like he did his countryside, wide and sprawling. Why he chose a place so close to the woods it practically rests on the border between civilization and the wild. It might be worrisome to have dogs on their own out there, but Cas trained them well. Even Bee, as stubborn and explorative as she was, never strayed too far from home. His dogs were safe on their own for a while.

           Turning the stove off, his mouth watered. The wait was almost over, and his food would be ready. Cas, mad with hunger, imagines a beautiful guitar accompanying his creation: soft strums and hypnotic chords complementing the beams of light pouring in from a nearby window. Shaking his head, Cas realizes the music wasn’t coming from his imagination but nearby. It becomes clearer where when a whiskey-smooth voice accompanies the strumming. Distracted from his food, Cas follows the music towards his open back door.

           He walks to the edge of his deck, captivated by the sight below.

           A man in a denim shirt and khakis plays his guitar to an audience of two, Birdie and Bee. Birdie rests on the stranger’s leg with her eyes closed while Bee wriggles her back along the grass a few inches away, next to a pair of Birkenstocks he’s sure belong to the mystery musician. There are many thoughts running through his head, but the one that takes precedence over all is, ‘I need to take a picture.’

           He rushes into his house and over towards his bags, glad his contempt for cleaning means his equipment isn't packed away. Unzipping the case, Cas takes out and readies his camera. The large, black piece of carbon was quite expensive – but a necessary cost to be able to do his job. Switching out the memory card and fixing the lens, Cas hurries back to find the scene like he left it. Returning to the edge of his deck, Cas leans over and begins taking pictures.

           The lens snap and flutter, the whirring sound of it setting itself up for another a constant flurry as he presses persistently on the button. He tries different angles, focusing on certain parts and blurring the others. In all the photos, the man’s face remained hidden. No matter where he turned, Cas couldn’t get a good shot of it. Until the musician glanced up, noticing Cas for the first time. He swung his face Cas’s way, cheesing for the camera.

           It nearly slipped from his hands. He is unprepared for the sheer gorgeousness presented to him. Looking at his face is like staring at a mountain or canyon wall, the lines carved in by God themselves. Freckles dust his pale skin like a starry night, bright on his cheeks and hidden behind the shadow of his beard. His green eyes reminded Cas of a summer, years ago, in the wilds of Montana. He was there for his first professional photo, the shot taken underneath a large tree where he captured its overarching verdant canopy. Somehow his eyes shine brighter than even Mother Nature’s wondrous creations. His lips stretch wide and snow-white teeth peek out from behind plush lips. Recovering his breath, Cas continues his task. After a few more pictures, he sets the camera down. Now, seeing him without the barrier of his camera lens, Cas is aware even the high definition cannot do him justice.

           “Howdy,” the man says, still strumming, “I take it these hounds are yours?”

           Cas nods. Clearing his throat, he says, “Yes… as is this house. And this yard.”

           “Figured,” the man chuckles along with the notes he plays, southern drawl sliding along the strings, “I doubt a robber would take the time to shutterbug like you just did.”

           Blushing, Cas grips tighter at his camera. “Do you do this often?” he asks, “Playing in stranger’s yards?”

           “No,” he smirks, “Sometimes I sit at the park and play. Today I needed a change of scenery.”

           “What brought you to my neck of the woods?”

           “Well, I was looking for some inspiration, so I drove out to the woods to hike a little. With the weather warming up I figured it was as good a time as any.”

           “Spring in Nashville is always a lovely time,” Cas agrees, smiling, “It’s why I made sure to come back as it was starting.”

           “You travel a lot?”

           Cas nods. “For business, for pleasure… luckily my career path allows me to combine the two often.”

           “Doing what you love… the true American dream,” the man agrees, “Anyway, I was minding my own business, notes flying around my head like mosquitos when I spotted the strangest thing. This dog over here,” he gestures to Bee, “whipping up a storm something fierce.”

           “So you followed her?”

           “I’ve always been told I’m too curious for my own good,” the man says, shrugging, impishly glancing back up at Cas, “got me into all sorts of trouble. Although I wouldn’t so much as say it was trouble… call ‘em interesting opportunities.” He stops suddenly, frowning. “Where are my manners? The name’s Dean.”

           “Cas.”

           “That’s a pretty name,” Dean says, “It wouldn’t happen to be short for something would it?”

           “It would…” He doesn’t say anything further, enjoying the confusion boiling beneath Dean’s brows.

           “You ain’t gonna tell me?”

           “You seem like a creative fellow,” Cas tells him, “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

           “Maybe I’ll have a better chance at guessing if I could get a better look at you?”

           It’s an invitation, as plain as the color beige. But for what, Cas does not know. He’s seen the gleam in Dean’s eyes before from men and women alike. It’s been forever since he entertained the idea of returning it. He does more than that.

           “Sure,” Cas says, “Let me go grab my lunch, though. Haven’t eaten at all today.”

           “Of course,” Dean says, plucking at his guitar once more, “Wouldn’t want someone as handsome as you to starve on me.”

           He’s lucky to duck back inside, so his blush can roam free across the prairies of his face. Cas breathes deep while he leaves his camera on his table and sets his grilled cheese on a plate, corralling his emotions under control before stepping outside once more.

           Now that he’s past his deck, Cas can appreciate todays’ weather. There’s a slight breeze rolling along, cooling the very present heat radiating from the sun. It warms everything he touches, from his exposed shoulders and legs to the very grass beneath his feet that tickles his toes. Cas sits cross-legged across from Dean, Birdie between him. She lifts her head, blinking at him, and then lays it back down where it was.

           Dean laughs, stroking her fur. “She’s not much of a guard dog, is she?”

           “Birdie moves for no one.”

           “Birdie,” Dean repeats, smiling, “Cute name. What about the livewire behind us?” Bee, growing bored of playing in the grass now chases a butterfly. She yips and bites at where it was, never quite catching it. They laugh at her antics.

           “Her name is Bee,” Cas says.

           “Birdie and Bee…” Dean hums, thinking, “Your name wouldn’t happen to be related to the outdoors, now would it?”

           “Nope,” Cas chuckles, “Besides, I don’t think there’s anything related to nature that begins with ‘c’, ‘a’, and ‘s’.”

           Dean frowns, “There’s gotta be. Like…” In his silence he plays a simple melody. “I can’t think of anything.”

           “I could always just tell you if you –“

           “No, no, you said to guess, so I’mma guess. Give me a minute.”

           Cas bites into his sandwich, moaning around it. Chewing, he opens his eyes to find Dean staring at him. His fingers paused halfway through a strum, the strings pulled back tight and waiting for release. Freckles are much more prominent as his cheeks tint red, from what Cas can only guess is an extended amount of time in the sun. He skews his head to the side and swallows. “Everything all right?”

           Shaking from his trance, Dean offers a wobbly smile. “Sure, it’s just my thinking face…” He looks to the sandwich, “Must be a really good snack?”

           He shrugs, “I’m not the best cook… but who can screw up a grilled cheese?”

           “My brother can,” Dean chuckles, “I swear, if I wasn’t such a gift in the kitchen we'd have been helpless.”

           “You cook a lot?”

           “Had to, at first. Busy dad… dead mom… got real creative growing up. But I enjoy it, so I never really minded.”

           “Did you take over a lot of what your mother did after her passing?”

           “Someone had to,” Dean says, bitter notes of melancholy tainting the music. The notes drag out, much longer and heavier. “Dad did all he could to make sure we had a roof over our head… some nights shuffling through the door still covered in rust and oil. Other times he was as drunk as a skunk and passed out in his truck.”

           Not knowing how to respond, Cas shrugs out his best attempt at levity. “Sounds like the kind of background befitting a folk musician.”

           His often-faulty sense of humor works, and brings a smile back onto his face. “Yeah, good to know my messed up childhood can get me through an album or two.” They laugh, the music from Dean’s guitar once again sweet like fresh honey.

           “Have you been at this long?”

           “No, just started almost a year ago when I moved here.”

           “Really?” Cas asks, surprised, “I mean, you sound fantastic. And this – talking to me, playing so beautifully – I can barely eat and read a book at the same time.”

           Dean snorts, rolling his eyes. “Well, when you spend three decades with an instrument you pick up a few things.”

           “Thirty years? That’s a long time…” Cas bites his lip. “If you don’t mind me asking, why choose now to begin your music career.”

           He sighs, as if Cas’s question was as familiar as a recurring nightmare. “Didn’t really get much of a chance, earlier on. Barely graduated high school… and I had to get a job to help support my brother and his dreams of being some big fancy lawyer.”

           “Is he?”

           “Yeah, out in California.” Dean smiles, eyes glossing over like his mind wanders out of the present and into a memory. “Didn’t actually have to use any of the money I saved up, really. Won a huge scholarship to a school out there on the coast. Gave him some so he could find a nice place to live, but the rest went untouched.”

           “I’m guessing something else happened, though?”

           Dean nods, a chord jarring the peace blanketing them. “Dad got sick… liver problems. Had to funnel Sammy’s college fund into his medical bills and everything. Those were some pretty heavy years, especially towards the end… if it weren’t for…” he draws into himself at that. Birdie notices, once more sitting up. She moves, stepping over Dean’s leg to curl up even closer to him. Dean breaks from the past when he feels her slide into the open space between his legs. Smiling, he pets her.

           Cas furrows his brow, chewing. “If it weren’t for what?”

           “Around the same time my dad was fading, and he was all wired up, a woman was brought in. She and my dad’s room were pretty close. Every day another woman and a small boy would visit, checking up on her. Sometimes the boy would sit by his lonesome in the hall outside with the door closed, and I’d get up from my seat and chat with him. There wasn’t a lot I could do there while dad slipped in and out of consciousness, so I made a friend. After seeing him for probably the fourth or fifth time, I got the story from a nurse.”

           “The lady in the other room was his mom, the woman visiting with him someone from the State. It didn’t look like she was going to pull through, and they were trying to get the paperwork set up to put him into the system.”

           “That’s… that’s awful.”

           “I know,” Dean says, “S’why I didn’t let it happen.” At Cas’s wide eyes, Dean giggles. “Let me explain! I found the social worker and talked with her about adopting little Jack. She wasn’t sure, but introduced me to the mom, Kelly, anyway. We hit it off well enough she agreed to let me take over as Jack’s guardian.”

           Cas smiles, “You’re a good man, Dean.”

           Compliment unexpected, Dean flits his gaze away and preoccupies his twitching fingers with his guitar once more. “No, ‘m not… just a guy who knows what it’s like to lose a mom young. It’s not like there weren’t any troubles… raising a child’s a lot of hard work.”

           “I wouldn’t know,” Cas shrugs, “I was the youngest out of five siblings. When my parents had me it seemed almost effortless.”

           “You telling me you never sowed the seeds in your youth?”

           Cas shakes his head. “There was never any time or desire… my brothers and sisters have kids – being an uncle is more than enough to satisfy my cravings for child rearing.”

           “I wouldn’t trade it for the world, though,” Dean sighs, drifting off again, “Raising Jack, being there through all the highs and lows… it was the right choice for me. If I didn't have Jack I don't know what spiral I would have turned down...” Cas agrees, watching as Dean glows with an unknown shimmer as he thinks about his son. The sight nearly makes Cas wish he did have the urge to start a family. But, as he reminds himself, the stars never aligned to birth that need. In all his travels, he came across nothing that could change his mind. Dean, however, has him considering many new things today.

           “How old is Jack now?”

           “College age,” Dean tells him, “Flew the nest to the same place my baby bro went to, actually.”

           “Interesting,” Cas hums, “So I’m guessing it was because your nest was so ‘empty’ that you decided to become a musician?”

           “Not at first,” Dean admits, embarrassment coloring his face, “When Jack left I kinda… floated. Didn’t really have much going on in my life ‘cept my guitar, my car, and my job. When he came back for winter break I had nothing to tell. It was him who encouraged me to make the change. Said that all his life I kept pushing him and inspiring him to chase after his dreams, that I should have the chance as well.”

           “His entire winter break we puzzled over things I could do. Up in the attic he found an old leather notebook I used to write in from time to time. Nothing special, some dumb lyrics and song ideas… he thought they had potential. Especially when he sent them to Sam…” Dean rolls his eyes, smiling the way Cas does when exasperated with his family. “Said with the way I play I could be a musician. ‘Cept I wasn’t gonna go join them out in California… that’s not my style. Nashville… now that’s another story.”

           “I’m very happy that’s the case,” Cas says, grinning, “Otherwise we may never have met.”

           “Yeah, yeah…” Dean meets his gaze for a beat before dropping it. “Look, ‘m sorry if I took up your time. Pretty sure you weren’t expecting to listen to me spittin’ to the wind.”

           “You’re right, I didn’t…” Cas tells him, “but I’m glad I did.”

           Chuckling, Dean still doesn’t look up from his guitar. “Good. Because usually I have to charge people to hear my stories.”

           “And I don’t usually allow my backyard to become a concert space…” They settle into a sort of silence after that. Dean provides an upbeat soundtrack while Cas finishes his meal. He offers up a bite to Dean who tears into it with a grin. Chewing, Dean sings. “Makes a mean grilled cheese/As light as the breeze/Cas won’t tell me his name/Because it’s probably lame!”

           “Shut up,” Cas giggles, shoving at Dean. He continues, even louder and with worse lyrics than before. When Dean rhymes his name with a body part, he gives in. “Castiel.”

           Dean stops, “What?”

           “My full name… it’s Castiel.”

           “Castiel… that’s –“

           “Weird?”

           Dean smiles, reaching over to squeeze his ankle. “Pretty. Like you.” Despite Cas’s blush, Dean carries on. “So? Name like that’s got to have a meaning, don’t it?”

           He nods and clears his throat. “It’s the name of an angel.”

           “Religious.”

           “My family were more fanatical about the culture than the actual religion,” he says, “Both being professors of art history at Columbia.”

           “New York City?” Dean asks, “You’re a city boy? What’s a boy from the Big Apple doing down here in Nashville? I thought that place was supposed to have everything.”

           “It has too much,” Cas says, “And that’s why I moved. I prefer a… simpler life, closer to nature. Connecting with it and photographing it has always been a passion of mine since I was small. My parents would take us on yearly vacations and I’d always run off to explore on my own. Mom used to say I wasn’t happy unless there was dirt on every inch of my clothes…”

           “We wouldn’t have gotten along when we were young,” Dean decides, smirking, “I hated getting dirty. Would freak out if the slightest drop of mud splashed onto my shirt. Had to get over that pretty fast when I became a mechanic.”

           “And where do you stand on it now that you’re a musician?” Cas asks.

           Dean drags it out, tapping arrhythmically at his chin. “’M used to it, I suppose, especially now that I’ve moved. The worse I had to deal with back in Kansas was dust. Here in Tennessee there’s a lot more ways of getting down and dirty.” His wink doesn’t go unnoticed, and Cas responds with a hearty chuckle.

           “Yes, I suppose.” Cas leans back on his hands, stretching under the sunlight. He feels Dean’s gaze wash over him, enjoying the spotlight. Cas can’t pretend he didn’t hear the stumble of notes when he puffed his chest and craned his neck to the side.

           They sit like that for a while. Cas listening as Dean stops playing randomly and begins singing a song. It’s enchanting, a haunting melody about growing up too son and carrying the weight of the world on one’s shoulders. About being unable to replace what was taken, but still trying your best. When Dean’s voice trails off, Cas turns to him again.

           “You have a beautiful voice.”

           “It’s okay…” Dean says, frowning, “I mean, for my age yeah. There’s a lot of people who’ve been doing this for much longer, who started earlier…”

           “But none of them have the same story that you have to tell,” Cas continues, frowning, “You’re very admirable.”

           “Cas…”

           “Yes, you are,” he says, “All that you’ve done, what life has thrown at you and the choices - the sacrifices - you made, and still finding the courage and strength inside to start over? There are so many others who wouldn’t even dare think of doing that. I believe you’re going to go far… especially with how hard you have worked.”

           Dean sets his guitar down for the first time since they’ve met. Bee finally pays them notice again, dropping a stick and sniffing at it. Birdie snores overtake the quiet now that Dean stopped playing. He scratches at his neck. “Are you always this kind to strange men who wander into your yards?”

           “No,” Cas says, “Usually I call the police… but you’re special.”

           Tugging at his sleeve, Dean cautiously glances up at Cas. “You… you wouldn’t mind if I wrote a song about you?”

           Cas’s heart skips a beat, then doubles to make up for that momentary lapse. “You… really? Why?”

           “I said I came out here for inpsiration,” Dean shrugs, fighting back a grin, “And I found it.”

           He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t scoff at his words. Instead Cas thinks it over, debating. His phone vibrates, and an idea comes to mind. “Okay,” he says, “you can. But only if you let me post a picture of you on my Instagram account.”

           Dean raises a brow. “Odd exchange…”

           “Sometimes people don’t like to have their pictures shared,” Cas rambles, twisting his phone in his grip, “And you were a perfect model, those pictures I took earlier stunning… plus as a musician you’d probably benefit from the exposure so –“

           “Cas,” Dean laughs, grabbing for his hands, “Sure. You can post the picture, with blessings, bells, and everything.”

           “Okay…” he glances at his phone, still nervous, “Can I have your handle?” At Dean’s blank stare, he continues. “Your username… you do have an Instagram right?”

           “Ye-yeah,” Dean says, “Kinda had to, like you said. Don’t know how to use it much, but my son showed me the basics. Here,” he grabs Cas’s phone, “let me…”

           Cas lets Dean use his phone. It’s a strong sign of trust, since Instagram is a medium in which he uses to grow his audience. His last book deal came about because a publisher scrolling through his profile one lazy afternoon. He trusts Dean enough to know he won’t mess with his account. After some time, he hands it back to Cas.

           “It’s a simple name, really, DWinchester67,” Dean says, picking his guitar up again, “And… I hope I wasn’t too forward in also adding my name to your contacts?”

           Cas barely forms words around the lump in his throat. He whispers, “Not at all.”

           “Good.” Dean stands, then, stretching. Confused, Cas watches as he walks over to his Birkenstocks, slipping them on while Bee dances around him. Birdie rolls over into the spot he vacated, still sleeping.

           Startled into action when Dean slips the guitar strap over his chest, Cas shoots up. “Where are you going?”

           “The time,” Dean says, tight-lipped, “I didn’t plan on being out here so late… I have a gig later that I need to get ready for. And if I want to amble my way back to my car before sundown I gottta hit the trail now.”

           Cas nods, a disappointed note vibrating off his vocal chords. Dean takes notice of his expression and beams soft like sunlight at him. “It’s at this place called the Roadhouse… two shows – one at nine and another at eleven. I’m sure if you mention me to Ellen or Jo at the bar they’ll give you a discount on your drinks.”

           He grins. “I’d love to see your show.”

           “Which one?” Dean asks, “…So I know which to prepare a special encore for, s'all.”

           “Are you sure it’ll be special if you do it for both shows?”

           Dean chuckles. “I like you something fierce, Cas.”

           “I feel the same way.”

           Holding his hand out, Dean says, “Until tonight?”

           “Tonight.” Cas squeezes Dean’s hands, the calloused fingers closing around him like he were the neck of a guitar. He drags it away, them dancing as if trying to strum Cas’s skin. The feeling of their joined hands stays with Cas, even when Dean disappears behind the trees.

           Cas slumps back down onto the grass, Birdie and Bee stepping their way over to him. Bee picked up Cas’s discarded plate, holding it in her mouth like a Frisbee. Laughing, Cas takes it from her and stares at the crumbs he left.

           He wasn’t home until he had a grilled cheese. Today that ritual changed, because grilled cheese can’t compare to the feeling of Dean.

[greekowl87]

False Flags Ghost Ship 4/?

The First Fic: (False Flags Redux) | Ghost Ship: (1) (2) (3) or if AO3 is your thing.

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this chapter forever. I keep editing it but never seem happy with it. I guess at this point, the best thing to do is just post it instead of sitting on it for another month. It is what it is. Sorry for any typos.

Be warned there is some smut at the beginning of the chapter. 

Anyways, tagging @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm for the original prompt that inspired this series, @frangipanidownunder fic workshop forever ago that helped tidy the plot of this (@just-fic-already ) and @baronessblixen . Tagging @today-in-fic

4.

When it first happened for me, when I first remembered, I genuinely thought I was going crazy. The cops were already calling me a serial killer for the first three murders that I committed back in ‘97. Then after the feds caught me. Then the other memories started swirling like a goddamn tornado. I’ve told you about it before. I got two other lifetimes rattling up around there and it was hard. But I know my priorities. I have my priorities. I don’t want my wife back. I want her and that bastard to suffer for what they did to me. The Smoker sprung me from jail and just gave me ten thousand dollars and a means to get back at the ones who did this to me. And I know where exactly to start.

. . . .

Scully always loved watching Mulder sleep. Something about it that she found grounding, almost like a connection to the Earth. But recently, since their evolved relationship, it had become almost primal as in he belongs to me and no one else official. She sat up in their bed, resting her back against the wooden headboard. She shifted the tee shirt she had pilfered from Mulder earlier in the evening and wished she could have been in something a little less confining.

Their dinner had been a quiet affair and afterward, they retired to their bedroom and watched a movie on AMC. Mulder had fallen asleep sometime around ten and Scully still found herself up watching the television as a rerun of The Twilight Zone came on. She remembered catching reruns of the show late at night with Charlie as a kid, arguing over the practical implications of the storylines. She smiled at the memory and wished Mulder was awake so she could do the same now. That was something she liked to do in her current life, she mused, but it was also something she liked do then too. They also argued and that was one of the first things that she had found attractive about in Bellefleur on their first case: his mind.

She shifted in bed and rested her hand on her arm and took a moment to appreciate his profile. How could both of them have the same souls and the same faces after more than a century? How would genetics be involved? Was she her own great-great-own-relative? What about him? Had their child lived? It seemed impossible but she believed. The photo that she had could have been doctored and placed as a clue by the unnamed powers that had manipulated their lives and put the chip in her neck. But what about the rings? She just knew from the moment she touched them those rings belonged to them. Psychometry, Mulder had called it but she preferred to call it faith. Scully traced his profile with her right index finger trying to catalog his face like he was one of her unanswered questions.

Faith.

She thought she had lost her faith awhile ago yet she still believed, at the very least, she believed in them.

“Why you up?” he mumbled sleepily catching her off guard. She moved to shut off the television but he caught her hand. “Leave it. I can at least see you.” His eyes opened and he squinted at the screen. “The Twilight Zone?”

“I was just remembering,” she said softly.

“Something new?”

“Something from my childhood. I used to watch this show with Charlie and we would argue, or rather I would, about the practicality of the plot.” She smiled in the television’s light. “Whether or not such things could actually happen.”

Mulder could hear the lightness in her soft chuckle. He reached for her, pulling her close. “Of course you would. I imagine the argument was one-sided.”

“It was. I hadn’t met my match yet.”

“And who might that be.”

She slapped his bicep playfully and whispered, ”Shut up, Mulder. You know who.”

Mulder took a deep breath and felt her snuggle closer as if trying to burrow herself next to him. “What is it, Scully?”

“Just thinking about everything.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about us. Past, present, and future.”

“We’ve both been doing that a lot lately.”

“Any regrets, Mulder?”

“For us? Never. Why do you ask?”

“I just wonder how all this could be possible with everything,” she whispered. “Nothing new.”

He hummed in thought as his hand, with a will of its own, worked its way underneath her tee shirt. She rolled slightly away from him to give him more access. “What do you wonder,” he murmured.

Invitation received, loud and clear.

“One of the first things I fell in love with was your mind,” she whispered to him. “Back in Bellefleur on our first case.”

“My mind?”

Scully felt herself relaxing under his ministrations and sucked in a deep breath in surprise as his arm pushed her shirt up and ran his fingers around her breast. She bit her lip as he bent forward and kissed her. She tried to form coherent words. “Yes. Your mind.”

“What else?”

“Are you that vain, Mulder?”

“Not currently, no.”

His mouth traveled to her chest and enveloped one of her breasts erotically within his mouth. Scully’s hips arched off the mattress as she brought her hands around his head, holding him against her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of him. Mulder surrounding her. Mulder made her feel like a goddess. Mulder loving her for all eternity.

“Why?”

Mulder heard her question. Why was he doing this? Why her? Was this real? Why? Mulder gave her breast the worship they were due before gently removing his mouth to move downwards as he slipped off her tee shirt. Why? He loved her. He knew this was his soulmate. Somehow, they had loved each other for at least two lifetimes. He just knew in his bones and soul she was the one.

“Why? Why not?”

She sighed and flushed her shoulders against the mattress as if trying to flatten herself against the mattress for Mulder’s advantage. She wanted to forget momentarily and just let it be them. To just live in the moment. The first night the consummated their partnership in this lifetime was one that he could not forget. Every time he made love to Scully he tried to memorize every aspect of it.

“Mulder. I want to forget everything else tonight. Can you do that? Can you make me forget for brief?”

“No,” he whispered. His voice was low and husky. He raised his head and met her eyes. “I will make it so the only thing you feel, realize, and remember is us.” She squirmed beneath him and felt herself grow hot. She ran her hand down his smooth back and silently watched his dark eyes. “Which is infinitely better. Do you want to watch?”

Scully nodded and licked her lips hungrily. The tension between them since January had been palpable. After the failure of the first round of the IVF and the shadow of Diana still lurking around, things were tense but they were still able to find comfort in their new intimacy. The honeymoon seemed to end when they played husband and wife in Arcadia and the tension returned, worse than before, but since they had been in the Outer Banks for the past few days, they were getting back to basics. Or so she thought.

“Tell me how you want it, Scully,” he murmured against her thigh.

“I’m leaving that up to you, Mulder.” She hissed feeling the first fiery streak of his tongue. “But try to make it last.”

“Simple enough.”

Scully leaned back into the pillows as Mulder gently pulled the last barriers of clothing that separated them. She relaxed into the sensations of his mouth against her hot core as he strummed her like a musician tuning his instrument. She let out a soft sigh of contentment.

“I’ve missed this,” he whispered against her skin.

“We’ve done enough connecting,” she whispered.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, sending shivers through her. “Not like this. Not enough. There’s never enough. Moments like this, Scully, I feel like I have known you forever...more than just six years, more than two lifetimes.”

He went back to lovingly kissing, flicking, and sucking that sacred spot of hers as her toes curled into the sheets and her nails raked through his hair. “Forever,” she chuckled. She clenched when he introduced those amazing fingers into the mix. “Forever is a long time.”

“You are an eternity, Scully.”

He carefully brought her to her first climax as she gasped silently and closed her eyes as she felt the familiar spasms and Mulder riding the wave with her. His warmth surrounded her as he moved up the bed, bring the quilt with him. She turned to her side and wrapped a leg around Mulder’s hip and scratched his upper back invitingly. “Do you want to know my favorite thing about moments like this, Mulder?” Scully whispered.  She kissed him slowly up his clavicle. “The intimacy between us...how everything feels so natural. And the funny thing was is that it’s always been like this, even before Norfolk.”

“How so?”

He pushed his hips enticingly against hers. Scully chuckled softly and pulled him closer. “Bellefleur. Our first case. Do you remember the mosquito bites?”

“Had I known it was my charm earlier on…” he teased.

“Seriously, Mulder.” He thrust against her again and she felt him like a branding iron. Her blood began to sing again and a new thought started to form in her mind. “I remember feeling safe with you and that’s when I decided I would always follow you into the darkness. But I want to remember that feeling again. I want to try to mix it up.”

“Mix it,” he chuckled. He kissed her again and she twisted against him. “How so?”

“I want you to surround me,” she answered. “All over. I want you to take me from behind.”

She was very rarely vocal with her wants and he was more than happy to comply. “Slow or hard and fast?”

“Slow,” she told him.

“Slow,” he murmured. “I can do that.”

Scully rolled onto her stomach and raised her hips. Mulder got behind her and spread her hips sensually, running her hands up and down her thighs hypnotically. Mulder rolled his neck, drinking in the sight before him. She was and had always been an exquisite heavenly creature. Scully groaned appreciatively at his ministrations. “Mulder, you’re killing me.”

“That is the opposite of what I want to achieve,” he said. “Just a little wider.”

He entered swiftly to the hilt and her eyes rolled back into her head ad her knuckles turned white as she grasped the sheets. It was not pain or pleasure but the sheer feeling of fulfillment of being completed and whole. “Mulder,” she moaned. He bent over her and the skin on skin contact inflamed them eternally.. Feeling his chest against her back, his arms and legs entangling around her. He was completely enclosed around her. It felt so good. “Mulder, this...this…”

“I know, Scully, I know. I feel it too.”

He moved easily within her, around her, it didn’t matter. He was here. They were here. They were together. Memories of a past life together that seemed too quick to the sensations of the present, remembered the past, and became caught up in the possibility of the future. They were coming together. Scully cried his name as he howled into her shoulder. They had now. As they rode the wave together, Mulder went lax and rolled off to the side. For the first time in a long while, Scully felt sedated. Her entire body melted as Mulder rode wave after wave of pleasure together with her. Then he gathered her up as she reformed, melded at his side. She sighed and lightly ran her hand up and down his chest over his heart as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Mulder,” she murmured.

“Mmph,” he responded. He was already on the edge of sleep. He still had Scully and that was all that mattered.

“I want to try again.”

“Try what?”

“The IVF.”

His eyes opened and he kissed her fiery red hair instinctively as if to assure himself she was not a dream. “Are you sure, Scully?”

“Yes.” She remembered how much she loved this man, her husband in one life and partner in another, her soulmate. “I’m sure.”

“Okay. We’ll do it first thing when we get back.”

. . . .

Skinner felt another headache coming on, this time, courtesy of a problem that his two agents had handled this case. He could not remember the last time he had been in Norfolk. Maybe when he had still been in the Marines in Vietnam but any navy town still carried the same spirit. Being back at a field office carried a different air as well in contrast to D.C. He looked up from his reading of Mulder and Scully’s case files to watch Benson and Yarrow, two different SACs coordinate effortlessly with one another as they spanned two states with enough manpower to find the Unabomber.

“I don’t give a fuck if the North Carolina hasn’t found a clue,” Benson yelled. “That bastard killed eight people in my turf and I want him found.”

“I thought it was only seven,” Yarrow said neutrally.

“I include the unborn child he slaughtered from the last victim,” he snarled.

Skinner watched the room of agents freeze momentarily under Benson’s fury before scurrying back to their tasks. The assistant director got out of his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. Dealing with Mulder and Scully’s aftermath was worse than dealing with his agents in person. He quietly excused himself, drawing out his cell phone and walking through the hallways and out into the sidewalk of downtown Norfolk.

Skinner was surprised how warm March had been this year. It was a relief to see the two of them stepping back from their work even though he suspected--no, he knew--that there was something more going on between them. After the case back in December and the kidnapping, something had changed between Mulder and Scully’s partnership. They weren’t fooling anyone at this point.  His mind went back to his first instinct in recalling his agents to assist in the recapture of Buckley but he quickly vetoed the idea. They deserved some time away and were likely safer away from everything.

Skinner spent a few more minutes outside before disappearing back into the building and into a flurry of new activity. Phones were ringing. Benson was snapping his fingers at an agent near him. “Yarrow,” Benson shouted. “We got a lead. Tappahannock.”

Yarrow nodded. “Damon. Andrews. Get on it!”

Skinner looked at Benson in confusion. “What? What is it?”

“Somebody caught sight of him at a gas station.”

“Where?”

“Yorktown,”  Yarrow said. “That’s your backyard, Benson.”

“I know but that doesn’t make sense,” Benson started. “He escaped around Elizabeth City. Why would he be making his way back north? Assistant Director, I thought your agents were elsewhere.”

“They’re still in North Carolina but maybe we should give Mulder a call,” Skinner answered thoughtfully. “It was his profile that led to Buckley’s original capture.”

. . . . .

The next morning brought promise, or at least potential and hope, Scully thought as she sipped her coffee.

Dressed in an oversized hoodie and a pair of running shorts, she sat on the deck of their rented beach house. The sunrise was a lot more subdued in contrast to the previous morning. Last night had done a miracle for them by reaffirming their relationship and bond. Their respective cell phones remained respectfully silent and the local news surprisingly had no coverage about Buckley’s escape. Skinner and the brass must have been working double time to keep this quiet. She sighed and took another sip of her coffee. That was their luck, she supposed, to face unknown dangers. She just wanted to reconnect and figure out to make of this more intimate partnership with Mulder. The past months had been a little tense. Diana causing trouble, Cassandra Spender, just everything. The fought and bickered. The makeup sex had been good too but afterward, there was always the malignant unspoken tension.

Scully watched a flock of pelicans fly low across the surf information. The morning’s rosy hue danced as the waves broke onto the sandy shore. Maybe today she would inquire about the couple’s surf lessons. She never thought she would be bored on a vacation. She could not remember the last time she felt bored. Or when she took a vacation...Maine probably with that demonic doll and Mulder asking her to pick out china patterns and marriage proposals. Maybe he had been joking then but the thought of it, the very idea…

“Scully.”

Mulder, newly risen from the dead, wiped the sleep from his eyes. She smirked from behind her coffee cup at the sight of Mulder, spiky hair and scuff and all, standing in the door frame of the sliding glass door. “Well, good morning to you too, Mulder.”

“You could have woken me.” He sat on the wooden bench next to her and gave her a tired smile. “You stole my shirt.”

She studied his shirtless form, noting the sweats, before cheekily replying, “I’m not complaining about the view.”

He flashed her a smirk. “You could have woken me, Scully. You know I want to watch each and every sunrise with you.”

“Romantic, Mulder. You should have been a poet.”

“Maybe I was in another life but I save myself for all the colorful language and exploits in our case reports.” A soft kiss on her cheek startled her. “You still should have woken me.”

“You needed to sleep after that spectacular performance. Do you want me to get you a cup?”

“I’m good for now. I just wanted to talk, Scully. Just for a moment.”

“Shoot.”

“We’re okay, right?”

“Why? Is there something wrong?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Mulder.”

“This vacation if we can call it that…”

“Why all this insecurity? I thought we settled that last night.”

“We are but you know how I always think. It never stops.” He shrugged and looked out over the horizon. “With everything.”

Ah. The unspoken everything that included the emotional baggage of two lifetimes. “You’re the psychologist.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Talk to me,” she challenged. “We have always been on the verge of something, haven’t we? Remember the night in Bellefleur when I rushed into your room to check for abduction marks? Or right after my abduction when that town’s mayor wouldn’t stop congratulating us on our honeymoon?”

‘“I fail to see where you are getting at, Scully.”

“You crossed half the world to save me,” she continued. “Not everyone would do that. I feel like we’ve been chasing a common goal that everyone sees but us.”

“You’re my partner.” Her admonishing eyebrow let her know his bluff was useless. “I loved you before that. I can’t remember. Your abduction I think is when I realized it. I remember sitting in my apartment, messing with your cross, unable to sleep. I thought about suicide during that time too. Especially when you came back and everyone was ready to give up on you.” Scully took Mulder’s hand. He brought her knuckles to his mouth and kissed her soundly.

“I had felt the same. I was thinking about that this morning about how we both always had some sort of feelings for each other, how we loved each other before finally admitting it. Before any knowledge of another lifetime. We were are already in love, Mulder.”

“What’s your point?”

“Was the past already ruling our present then? And don’t go saying subconsciously.”

“My subconscious thoughts are filled with things we can do in the office.” That warranted a smile from her. “I beg for you to just tell me where your thought process is leading because I am not really following.”

“You’re so dense sometimes,” she laughed. “The point is, to me, is that the past doesn’t write our futures, Mulder. That is what I am trying to say. I cannot refute what we’ve experienced over the past few months but I know what the present is, I know what we have now.”

He nodded and sensed that was the end of the topic for the time being. He sat next to her on the deck bench and wrapped an arm around her and wrapped her legs over his lap. He caressed her exposed legs. “I’m thinking you may be right. Just this once.”

“Just this once?”

“Maybe. I like it when we’re like this, Scully.”

She rested her head against his shoulder as they watched another ocean sunrise. “We do have this, Mulder.”

“Not all the time…”

“Remember what I said about not letting the past write our present? We may not be married in this life but there is no one else I consider to be my…”

“What?”

“Whatever we are, Mulder.” She squeezed his hand in acknowledgment. “Remember, we have now. And surfing lessons today.”

He chuckled. “I can’t believe you talked me into surf lessons.”

“You should do fine after your performance last night. I have complete faith in you.”

His laughter made her heart feel lighter as they enjoyed another sunrise together.

. . . . . . . . .

Happiness is fleeting. Fuck that. I’ve been good. I should have had Dana back as my wife but instead, that bastard still has her. Mulder...fucking Mulder. Somehow, he always gets the girl. Mind my time like last time but I won’t make the same mistakes.

. . . . . . . . .

“Scully, do I really have to wear this?”

Mulder fidgeted uncomfortably in the wetsuit that he wore and he had been thankful that Scully had persuaded the surf instructor to do by the privacy of their beach house instead of out in some random beach access point. He could tell she was amused by his struggles as she tried to hide a smile from behind her hand. Her cheeks were turning red from laughter. “You’ll be fine. It’s very form fitting and it looks good on you.”

“Just form fitting?” He tried to adjust the tightness he felt lower. “It’s like a body bag.”

“It’s more like a second skin,” she corrected softly.

“How come you don’t have to wear anything underneath?”

“I could but I’m a modest Catholic, remember? Now, why don’t you go down to the beach and wait for me? I’ll be right down.”

“Scully, for the record, this gives me a wedgie,” he mumbled before he left for the beach. She watched him walk away pulling at his ass. Scully hid a smile behind her hand. “I can’t wait for you to worm your way into your own little thing.”

Down at the beach, Mulder saw a young man with two separate longboards wearing his own wetsuit. “Hi, Fox,” the young man greeted enthusiastically. He shook Mulder’s hand. “Ready?”

“Almost. And it’s Mulder. I hate it when people call me Fox,” he replied.

“No problem. My name is Lucas by the way” The young surfing instructor did not annoy Mulder at all and he was pleasantly surprised by the man’s professionalism. “Are we still waiting on your girlfriend?”

“My partner will be done in a bit,” he clarified.

The instructor nodded and he surveyed Mulder with a curious eye. “It’s unusual for us to get requests for surf lessons this early in the year. Most tourists wait until April or May.”

“Well, we normally don’t get a chance to go on vacations together,” he answered coyly. “And we wanted to do something fun.”

“Besides,” Scully’s voice carried from behind him. “I grew up surfing California when my dad was stationed out there. This one here…” She took Mulder’s arm affectionately. “Is from Massachusetts and never got a chance to try it.”

“The only time to surf Massachusetts in during the winter. I took a gnarly surf trip with some friends up to New Jersey in the winter and it was amazing. Whereabouts up there?”

“The Vineyard and you would have to be crazy to go out in the dead of winter,” Mulder answered.

“You’re plenty that,” Scully murmured under her breath just for him to hear.

Mulder felt his heart swell with affectionate on. Lucas clapped his hands together excitedly. “Let’s get started, huh? Who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Scully volunteered.

. . . . . . .

The water was freezing and it took Mulder a good twenty minutes to adjust to it. He stood near the wave breaks watching Scully paddle out on the longboard and Lucas swim alongside her. He watched them exchange some words and without any assistance, Scully paddled the surfboard into position and easily sat on the board, waiting patiently. Mulder smiled. Scully had been holding out on him; she was a natural. A small wave began to close in and she instinctively popped up and rode the wave effortlessly towards the shore before a slight miscalculation caused her to lose her balance and tumble into the break. Mulder rushed, doing his best to swim/wade towards her as she emerged laughing happily. He wrapped her arms around his neck so she could stand easier which caused her to laugh all the more.

How long had it been since he had heard laughter like that from her? “You okay?”

“Yes,” she continued to laugh. She drew him close for a kiss before the surf washed the surfboard in further towards the shore and her along with it. She tightened her arms around her neck and continued. “I forgot about the leash.”

“You sure this isn’t your first time?” Lucas asked excitedly as he swam back towards them. “You’re a natural.”

“I grew up in San Diego as a teenager. It’s kind of a requirement.”

“Oh, man. I love it out there. The last time I was out there had some awesome surf.”

Scully nodded. “It is beautiful out there.”

Mulder made a mental note to go beach next time they had a case out there. “Well, Mulder, it looks like Dana it down. Why don’t we get the other surfboard on you, Mulder?”

“Scully is doing such a good job…”

“Mulder, quit being such a baby,” Scully admonished. She was already gathering the surfboard to swim back out. “Hey, Lucas, don’t forget the disposable camera. I want to remember this.”

Mulder’s face blanched in horror. “Scully, no.”

“We can never have enough memories, Mulder.”

That was the end of it. The exception of Scully’s endless laughter, the rest of the day progressed into a blur for Mulder as he tried to learn the futile art of surfing and instead mastered the art of falling face first into the surf. Towards the middle of the afternoon, one particularly nasty fall that caused him to roll his shoulder and end their day at the beach. Despite the pain from his injury, Mulder could not remember a happier day in the longest time.

. . . . . . . .

That evening, Scully padded softly to the kitchen back into the living room with a new ice pack for his shoulder. The television played softly in the background as Mulder lay on the couch. The shoulder injury wasn’t too severe and he would eventually be fine. Nothing that a good night’s sleep would not fix. Mulder lay on the couch and got up slightly to make room for her at the end. “Do you want a pillow?” she asked.

“No,” Mulder mumbled drowsily.

He awkwardly curled up on the couch like a child with his head in Scully’s lap. She smiled absently as her fingers raked through his hair and pressed the ice pack against his shoulder. He hissed in response. “If you weren’t showing off your boyish agility today,” she whispered, “you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“I think you just wanted to show off,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

“Me either. Are you having fun, Mulder, despite the injury?”

“Hearing you laugh, genuinely laugh, and have my personal doctor take care of me? What could be better, Scully.”

She smiled and propped her feet up on the coffee table as they settled in to watched the local news for the evening without a care in the world and just relished being in each other’s company.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Out Of The Woods (2/?)

This multi chap fic has been one that I've wanted to write for a while. I'm hoping to connect a few loose ends, since my series is getting closer to the end. Don't worry, I still got a couple of fics left in me. I'd love to thank @xerxezra whose conversations with me are always inspirational. I'd also like to thank @dorkydisappointment whose writing got my creative juice flowing and @hoodoo12 who continues to inspire me all the time.

Reference to the crystal necklace a can be found in my fic The Language Of Flowers and to safety measures in Sentimental Reasons. And finally, references to the woman in Ricks journal is from What You Found Amongst The Pages. I know, that was shameless self promotion ;P

If you haven't read part 1, then heres a link (Read Chapter 1)

In this fic the reader tries to uncover the mystery of the artist behind Zeta-7s portrait.

----------------------

Chapter 2: The Girl Who Loved Him Before

You couldn't sleep. It wasn't so much the bed, which was much harder than the one you had back home, but your thoughts. Ugh, why couldn't you just turn your brain off? If you could, then maybe you wouldn't be up at 2 in the morning questioning your life choices; that or it was because you were in an unfamiliar place.

You thought of taking out your laptop to type out the draft for a new story idea you had, or to take another sedative, but you decided that maybe you could read one of the magazines you saw on the coffee table instead. Carefully, you cracked the door to your room open, checked to see if the coast was clear before you tiptoed towards the living room. Next to the couch, was a rustic coffee table created out of an old tree trunk; on it were coasters made from a young pine. Next to the pile of coasters were old science fiction magazines; all of them older than yourself. And since you couldn't find the book you saw earlier, you picked up the stack and slipped back into your room.

Just like you did when you were a kid, you hid under the duvet with a flashlight. Each magazine was in its own sleeve, and you shuffled through them until you found a hand full you liked. The one with Gort on the cover had original stories that had been sent in by fans; your favorite being The Day The Earth Stood Stupefied, which was a story about how Gort and Klaatu managed to control the masses with charisma and Rock n Roll. Another one had a series of stories which revolved around a lonely dendrologist, who alienated everyone he knew in his pursuit of knowledge; whose increased disdain for humans had led him to madness; a marriage to the forest, and whose offspring walked the earth, searching for their place in the world. The other magazines turned out to be comic books, laced with outdated tropes and humorous ads for sea monkeys and x-ray goggles. Though, the one that interested you most was the small booklet for a funeral home.

Strange, why would this be here?

You pulled the covers down, glanced at the door just to make sure it wouldn't open before you hid again, and flipped through the booklet. From different burial arrangements to simple and ornate caskets, you assumed that either he helped with a burial or had planned one. Poor man. You placed it back in the middle of the stack where you had found it and returned the lot of it to its original place. Maybe trying to write might help quiet your brain after all.

____________________

You woke up; the cause being from the sounds which came from outside. Slipping your feet into some slippers, you stepped out of your bedroom, finding that Rick was neither in his room, kitchen, or living room. The noises got louder and seemed to be coming from the back of the house. So feeling brave, because you could totally take care of yourself, you grabbed the silly dancing moose statue from the dining table which doubled as a banana holder and stepped outside, only to find Rick pause; his ax lifted above his head, with raised brow perplexed as to what you were doing before returning to his task. “Oh, you're chopping wood.”

Log after log, he split them into smaller pieces. You had never seen him chop wood, but at the rate and diligence in which he was, made you wonder if he had cybernetic enhancements like other Ricks did; it certainly would explain a few things. When you realized that you were still holding the statue, you could only giggle at your silliness and set it down beside you as you took a seat on the porch steps; not only relieved there wasn't an intruder but pleasantly surprised by this display of masculinity. “Rick, why are you chopping wood? It's not to impress me, is it? Cause if it is, it's totally working.”

Leaning the ax against the stump, he pulled off his sweater, having warmed up from the exertion, using it to wipe his sweaty face. The t-shirt that was underneath his sweater clung to him, outlining the shape of his lean torso. Wow. “There's n-no central heating and there's going to be a cold front t-t-t-tonight. I um - I wanted to make sure there would be enough firewood.”

“Well, nothing warm hands and a pillow fort couldn't solve. Right?”

“Hohoho, n-no. Though it would be nice if that's all it - it took.”

Goodness, did you love what you were seeing, regretful that you didn't have your phone to take a pic. If he was more confident, then he'd certainly be the death of you, strolling over with a confident swagger but it didn't matter. You were so lucky to have him; dorky and all. “Rick, could you come here for a moment? I want to show you something.”

By now, you'd think he'd catch on to your mischief, but even so, he obeyed; how cute. He walked towards you, unassuming, and you stood and waited for him to be close enough so that you could lean over and kiss him. He squirmed when you did this because he was all sweaty and wanted to be all nice and clean before making any attempts of being affectionate, but you wrapped your arms around him and held him tight, determined not to let him go. “I got you, Ricky.”

“Gosh, but I'm - I-I-I shouldn't. I'm all sweaty.”

“It's okay,” you cooed, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. “I kinda like it. Besides, everyone sweats. It's only natural, and if we didn't we'd die, right? So calm down my little manly man. I'm not grossed out.”

It took him a few seconds to let this sink in.“Is there anything y-you don't like?” he wondered; neither reciprocating nor initiating.

“I don't like mosquito bites, but what does that have to do with anything? I really like you. That's what matters.”

“Th-that's - thank you. I appreciate it.”

You pressed your nose right into his hair, breathing in the scent which was naturally his intermingling with that of the forest. You knew this made him nervous, but you adored the way he smelled, especially right now; as though he'd been birthed from the ashes of pine. “You're welcome. Have you been rolling around in pine needles?” you giggled, picking out a stray leaf. “Or have you been hugging trees again? If you aren't, then maybe I should encourage it.”

“No,” he answered matter of factly. “it's um - it's from the wood. Th-they produce chemicals called terpenes, which give them their special, distinctive scent.”

“Oh Rick, when are you going to understand when I'm flirting with you?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he mumbled sheepishly. “Gee, I-I-I don't - I'm sorry.”

Reluctantly you let go, deciding that you should let him be before you had a chance to get any other mischievous ideas. “Aw, don't be sorry. You still have plenty of time to understand me. Until then, how about I make us some breakfast. Banana pancakes sound good?”

Smiling warmly down at you, he nodded. “It s-sure does.”

_______________

After breakfast, Rick informed you that he needed to go somewhere, and you were ready to go along but he confessed. “I-I-I have to get some supplies to do a couple of repairs. I've been so busy lately that I didn't realize that there were still a-a few things t-t-to do around here before I can relax. I should be back this afternoon.”

“Rick, it sounds like you're leaving me here.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he admitted. “I am, though only because I want to return as soon as possible. I want t-to spend as much time with you as I can. I mean, I'm going t-t-to be making repairs after I return, but in other words…..”

“You're busy,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away so you could put away the dishes. “and you wanted to take care of your errands without distractions. Fine, it's whatever. I'll be here I guess.”

The mismatched dishes were an odd contrast in comparison to the many other decorations about the place, and you were relieved by this, but annoyed that you weren't tall enough to put away the mixing bowl in its respective place on the top shelf. Seeing this, chair legs scraped against the floor, creaking in complaint as Zeta-7 crossed the room; gently removing it from your hands and putting it away. If he wasn't so darn sweet, you might actually manage to stay upset at him. “Thanks.”

Studying you, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I'm s-s-so sorry princess. I promise I'll make it up to you.”

You knew he would for he always did and you followed him outside towards the car. Opening the driver's side door, he stood there, fiddling with the keychains, glancing at you, at the keys, then back at you. “It won't be long. Y-y-y-y-you know where I put the freeze ray, and where the switch for the security system is.”

“Yeah,” you answered, tugging lightly on the chain about your neck, revealing the lovely crystal you carried with you always. “and I still have the crystal necklace that I only have to squeeze to be transported to the safe room just in case.”

“Th-that's good. And the Meeseeks box is in the closet. I um - they'll help if you need them.”

“Got it. I guess I'll see you later then. Drive safely.”

You turned around to head back, having heard the car door close, thinking he was ready to go, but to your surprise, he spun you around and pulled you in for a kiss. Undemanding, he sought forgiveness on your lips, supporting you as you melted into him. When he pulled away a few seconds later, he softened. “Please don't be mad a-at me. I couldn't bear it if y-you were.”

“I'm not. Annoyed maybe, but not mad. I just wish you would've told me earlier. “ you admitted in your girlish voice. “It's nice to know these things. I had plans for us to go apple picking and thought we'd bake some apple pies together. I was really looking forward to it.”

Pressing a kiss on your temple, he sighed. “Gosh, th-that sounds perfect, but it's going to have to wait. I shouldn't neglect the repairs or else one of us c-could get hurt. I hope y-you understand.”

“I do. It's a good thing you're the responsible one. Someone has to be. Just, promise you'll be safe okay?”

“I-I will. Be careful on the front porch and inside the laundry room. There are a-a few old boards that have to be replaced.”

“Okay.”

Brushing a lock of hair away from your face, he nodded. “Bye, m-mi corazón.”

Leaning into his touch, you softened. “Return soon.”

“I will.”

You pulled away so that he would go, for he would never deliberately leave until he knew everything was alright. And when you couldn't see the car anymore, you stepped back into the house, avoiding the loose boards he had mentioned. Honestly, you didn't enjoy the idea of being left alone, especially in the middle of nowhere, but it did give you the time you needed to explore the place.

_____________

You glanced at the painting again, wishing it would talk back to you. What secrets did it hold? And why Rick, your Rick and not anyone else? Did they know there were others, or were they only acquainted with yours? Ugh, this was frustrating.

You sat back for a while, thinking of what you knew; Zeta-7 wasn't the type to pose for pictures let alone a painting, so this might've been done by memory. If it was done in the afternoon light, anytime after 4 would've been comfortable if it was done outside, but what if the lighting was symbolic as to timing and not so much literal? Oh, what did you know, except that you really hoped he wasn't holding a torch for her; if he was, it'd probably kill you.

However, since you were here, you decided to check out the other paintings. There were a few that you realized also weren't signed and done in a similar style. There was one of a Morpho butterfly, eating a ripe banana. Then there was one of a half-eaten picnic and a cake covered in bees. The one next to it was of a labcoat draped over a chair and a forgotten candy wrapper lying on the floor. And the last one on this wall was of a diseased blue rose bush.

How odd. The familiarity of these subjects and scenes filled you with a warm nostalgia of past adventures. Was it possible that their story was similar to yours? Of course, everyone had their story, and if your assumptions were correct, then all these unsigned pieces were by her as well as these memories that she portrayed; funny and uncanny that they should like Morphos, blue roses, picnics, and Rick just like you. The only difference is that you weren't an artist, but then while they were, they didn't think so either.

Maybe you could almost forgive this person because they had good taste in both men and painting subjects. Then again, maybe not.

____________

Unlike the movies, the basement was well furnished and pleasant. There was a couch, a bunch of boxes stacked in the closet, and a wall of books; as could be expected from a prolific reader. You tested the couch for comfort, finding that it was way better than the bed in your room. Getting up, you perused the shelves, happy to find all your favorites as well as a couple from your wishlist; lucky you.

Picking up a leather-bound copy of Persuasion, you laid back on the couch, fluffing up the old, but clean pillows. In your hands was a well-loved copy, possibly read more times than your own. The reasons this particular Jane Austen classic held much appeal was extensive, but the main ones were because it was a story waiting, of misunderstanding, forgiveness, and reconciliation. You always got lost in the old-fashioned customs and words and it never failed to move you. However, what moved you this time when you cracked opened the book were not elegant sayings or humorous witticisms but the photographs.

Used as bookmarks, there were several Polaroids of Rick; of him dancing in an ugly sweater; of him cooking; of him playing the ukulele; of him standing as his figure was filtered amongst spring blooms; of his hands full of sunflower seeds; and of a yard full of sunflowers. You stared at these photos, dumbfounded at the similarities between the subjects and your favorite things. This book and photos must've been from her too and Ricks age in these photos matched that of the painting. Damn it.

It couldn't be true, but even inside the cover, there was a small note from Zeta-7 explaining why he gifted this book; signed with love. No, none of it could be true. However, photographs didn't lie and it meant you weren't all that special. Not caring if you stained the beginning pages with your tears, your chest ached with regret and you couldn't breathe. All this time, when your wonderful Zeta-7 paid special attention to what you loved, claiming to love only you, never wanting to lose you had turned out to be a cruel game and a lie; you being beaten by the girl who loved him before; someone who was way better than you.

TBC

[balmerancrystalance]

Of summer loves and other drugs.

klance food truck au inspired on the steven universe comic (x)

Summertime rolled around once again in the blink of an eye.

Golden sunshine sneaking throught to your window bathing the entire room with warmth and light, the raw earthy smell of freshly mowed grass silently inviting you to lay over it, being lulled into numbness by the foamy waves of the ocean till you got rinkled like a raisin, strangers’ smiles passing by with the weight of responsabilities lifted off their shoulders and turned into just desire of having a good time before going back to their routines.

Who wouldn’t love that, right?

Keith, that’s who.

Sun? The poor boy couldn’t spend one second in the open without at least three generous coats of factor one hundred sunscreen and not getting roasted like chicken, he learned that the hard way since he was a child, and let’s not even start with how easily he sweats. Grass? All it did for him was attract mosquitoes and other bugs, leaving him with bites in places very hard, not to mention embarrasing, to scratch. Another lesson learned the hard way and a experience he was definitely taking with him to his grave. Water? He didn’t knew how to swim and never bothered to learn how to do it, he somehow managed to function decently on land until this day and that was more than enough for him thank you very much. People? That was a straight down ugh for him. 

Groaning loudly as he felt his pijama top stick to his body like a second skin, as if attempting to smother him in his sleep and almost succeeding if he was being honest, Keith rolled around under his sheets in desperately need for cool air, the blood running through his veins burning when his mullet held onto his neck, dripping with sweat.

Daring to finally open his eyes, blinded by the amount of sunlight for a few seconds, the boy stretched his arm to get a grip of his phone, unlocking it to read the time.

08:17. This was going to be a long day.

After a inner struggle between actually putting effort into getting out of bed and staying in what will become a pool of sweat if he stayed any longer, the first option winning by far when the familiar smell of eggs and bacons slowly filled the place, he threw his covers to the side, deciding to not wear his slippers since the floor was still chilly enough to enjoy barefoot, and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“Morning.” Keith mumbled covering a yawn with his inner elbow, taking a seat in front of the counter, letting his feet dangle lazily.

“Keith, darling.” Allura’s wide smile fell as soon as she spotted the younger boy, suddenly concern written all over her features as she hurriedly pressed her palm against his forehead without any warning. “Are you coming down with something?”

A snort from behind them caught both of their attention, Shiro placing a plate of food between the two of them and wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s waist.

“It’s just the heat.” His brother giggled and Keith would really like to stick his fork in his throat if he wasn’t busy devouring his breakfast like he hasn’t eaten in days. But you know like, don’t bite the hand that feeds you or something. Don’t impale them with cutlery either.

“Awe, the poor thing.” Allura cooed sweetly, combing his bangs away from his face as he ate, if she felt grossed out by his sticky skin she didn’t show. “That’s a shame, I was hopping you could join Shiro and I today.” She grinned sympathetically, as if on the inside persuasively hoping he would change his mind.

Oh hell no, those pretty blue eyes only worked their magic on his brother.

“Where are we going?” Shiro quirked a brow taking a seat next to Keith, wipping the foamy mustache above his mouth with the back of his hand, sliding a glass of juice to the boy next to him with his free one. The latter busy snickering to himself at the though of how his brother looked like his boss, Coran, for a second.  

“To the beach!” Allura chirped excitedly waving her arms in the air, the sudden motion making her messy bun fall apart, letting her silver hair cascade down her back. Keith could swear he heard his brother’s heart grow three sizes. Gross.

“I wanted to spend the day with my two favorite boys,” She sighed wholeheartedly, resting her weight on the counter, head nestled between her hands as she looked at them. “but I guess we can do something else here inside instead.” Allura pouted straightening herself up and turning around to glance at the aparment. “It will be fun.” She smiled gently, like she always did, but both boys knew her long enough to distinct her tone betrayed her actions, blue eyes not longer shinning with mirth when she turned back to them once again.

“Keith doesn’t mind.” Shiro was the first one to talk between the brothers, words blurting out from his mouth before he had the time to stop them. Keith nearly choking on his breakfast at the suggestion and all that it implied, giving a sharp gaze in his direction, as if telling him to take it back immediatelly. Also, you just wait until I end swallowing the juice that almost went to my lungs and then you’ll be in serious trouble.

“Um,” Keith coughed roughly on his fist. “Keith does mind.” Realization hiting him only seconds later. Hey, in his defense it was too early for all this, okay? “I do mind.” He corrected himself, earning a kick in the shin as response from his brother under the counter.

Was it too much to ask for everyone in this house to let him eat in peace for a second?

“Awe, come on baby bro.” Shiro joked brightly, already getting under Keith’s damp with sweat skin. Nothing good usually came after he used that nickname and judging by the way his brother quickly got up to take his girlfriend by the waist, this time was going to be not any different. “Little sunblock here, little sun block there,” He went on cheerfully, pulling Allura close with one arm while streching the other across the counter and booping Keith’s nose. He was really having second thoughts about not biting the hand that fed you. “and you’ll be ready to go.” Then he turned to the expecting girl practically bouncing on her feet by now, smile fighting to strech her lips as she looked up at her boyfriend in anticipation. “It’ll be fun, yeah? I’m so glad you suggested it, love.” Shiro leaned down to kiss Allura’s forehead, letting out a muffled surprised sound when she broke away from their embrace to bend him over and kiss the living daylights out of him. Keith not flinching in the sighlest as Allura’s inhuman strength was no surprise for any of them the day she stepped a foot into the household, but actually letting out a groan at how whipped his brother could be sometimes.

As much as Keith would love to stay in the house and do absolutelly nothing, there was no way he could do that. You see, one of the many reasons why Keith hated summer break was because it meant he didn’t had to go to class, yeah he was a nerd but hear me out, the fact of having a schedule to follow everyday took the huge weight of finding something to entertain himself with off his shoulders. Sometimes even weekends were on the edge of driving him insane, being the star student he was having finished his homework back at school and not at home like everyone else. So, no, staying wasn’t an option. 

Besides, he liked to think if he agreeded to third wheel with them he could use it against his brother when needed in the future.

“Let’s get ready then!” Allura hollered throwing her fist in the air, smacking Shiro’s ass on her way to their bedroom, leaving both brothers wide eyed. “I love you!” She called from the corridor, followed by a loud crash but they were sure she was okay. “You too, Keith!”

Shiro smiled sympathetically at him, ruffling his hair in a silent thank you, the younger’s hands too busy holding his knive and fork to swat his hand away, or attempt to cover his flushed cheeks.

“We love you too!” Keith called back, groaning internally when he saw his older brother smirk on his peripheral vision.

Despite all the lovey dovey issues, he really liked Allura. The golden hearted yet awfully quirky girl being the closest he ever had to a mother figure. Not that he would ever admit it out loud of course.

“Don’t.” Was all the younger could growl around his mouthful of food, sending a death glare in Shiro’s direction, his brother immediatelly rising his hands up in defense as if the other have threaten to stab him. Which, has already happened so can you actually blame him.

“I’ll get you all the ice cream you want.” Shiro was quick to follow Allura’s steps to their bedroom. “Today’s on me!”

Keith shook his head slowly while trying to fight back the smile that quirked his lips up, making him drop his utensils to scrub his hands down his face as he let out a frustrated sigh, frowning when he could feel the beads of sweat dripping from underneath his bangs.

This was going to be a long day, indeed.

Keith cringed at the thought of how much the entire dock reminded him of a cheap replica of a white girl’s pinterest board, plaged with small booths in formation selling the most scandalous swimsuits he has ever seen, tie dyed crop tops, ridiculous shaped lifesavers and last but not least the homemade popsicle with chunks of fruit in it already melting in his hand after only one bite.

He wondered how the entire place could look so different from the one he has been traveling across with his bike going to his first year of uni just weeks ago.

The frozen treat not waisting time to slide in between his fingers, falling to the wodden floor and pooling underneath his feet, leaving his hand now slick with both ice cream and sunscreen. The boy snorting wholeheartedly at the thought of how Shiro and Allura insisted to cover him from head to toe, not wanting to run any risk. After all, if they dragged him to the beach with them, they better take care of him. Any trace of smile quickly fading away at the memory of how the couple have left him as soon as they made it to the dock, completely lost in each other and the sunny summertime lansdcape.

Keith couldn’t blame them, after all they’ve been through this year, between Shiro’s new job as teacher at the prestigious Garrison University and Allura’s father passing away back in England few months ago, not to mention the two of them taking the younger boy under their roof, after convencing him for the millionth time he wasn’t a bother to their home of course, they deserved a break.

And if their happiness coasted sticky flipflops and sunburnt chicken skin, he decided it was worth it.

But first, he really needed to get real food.

Clicking his tongue as he turned on his heels, hands itching to comb his bangs out of his eyes but still dirty with ice cream, he started to vigorously bang his head to the side and waiting for the wind to colaborate with him, thanking the gods above he still had his headphones on so he could pretend to awkwardly dance where he was standing without looking like a crazy person. Much.

Once his hair was enough out of the way to actually let him see, he made his way to the parked food trucks they saw earlier, mouth watering at all the options he saw on the menus before Allura pulled him and Shiro for a entire photoshoot he was sure it would end up all over every social media possible.

He just prayed he looked midly decent on at least one picture, unlike his brother and his girlfriend who apparenlty looked flawless in every single one taken ever. Yeah, even highschool yearbooks. Keith liked to think there were only two explanations for it, either aliens or magic.

Making his way between the almost aggressively bright colored vans, neon signs twinkling to life above them as dusk fell over the dock, sun lining up perfectly between the sky and the water, the boy looked around until his eyes setled on a orange subway truck.

With hand fast on his pocket to grab the couple bucks Shiro gave him before disappearing and his stomach growling in anticipation, Keith walked towards the vehicle, a boy probably not older, but definitely bigger, than him with a playful smile and kind eyes behind the counter talking to a customer.

“I promised Pidge try this new game on friday,” He said grimaced sadly, scratching his neck as he looked into he girl’s direction, quickly being interrupted by a voice coming from somewhere inside the truck.

“Sorry, darling! He’s mine until dawn!”

The boy turning immediately to the side with a glare even tho he looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly to save his life, his frown easing down when the girl giggled covering her mouth.

“It’s okay, Hunk.” The brunette said soflty taking a step closer, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek lovingly. “Weekend, you’re mine.”

They reminded Keith of Shiro and Allura.

“Gross!” The same high pitched voice from before hollered once again, even tho you could actually hear them smile. “There are kids in here!”

Keith’s stiffled laugh hidden behind his sticky hand died down in his throat the moment other boy stepped into the window, making shooing motions.

The boy was tall, tan and handsome, way out Keith’s usual fantasies but more important, way out Keith’s league. Sun kissed cinnamon skin practically glowing underneath the last glimpse of sunshine, electric blue eyes that crinkled with every move of his cheeks and mile long limbs somehow managing to move inside the tiny space.

“Less smooching, more working.” A new and smooth voice said, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he separated the couple, the two of them blushing furiously.

“Lance!” Hunk muttered under his breath, giving him a I can’t believe you just said that face, not that it looked like the other cared much of course.

“Would you look what the tide brought.” The girl outside the truck joked, quircking an daring eyebrow in Lance’s direction, making him gasp with a hand over his chest, mocking hurt as he spoke again.

“You’re spending way too much time with Nyma, Shay.” He acussed outrageously while wagging with his pointer finger in the air, slouching himself over the slightly shorter boy’s shoulder. “She’s mean to me, do something.” Lance said with the smallest voice possible, pouting at his friend.

“Not the puppy eyes again!” Hunk groaned loudly, immediatelly looking away from Lance, swatting his face away when he tried to get closer as he tried to talk back to Shay, who thankfully was laughing hysterically by now. “I’ll call you later, yeah?” He smiled as sweetly as you can look while trying to smother your friend in the back of a truck, only letting go when she waved her hand, turning on her heels and walking away.

“Serioulsy, man,” Hunk sighed finally letting go of his friend with a loud thud agaisnt the floor, a maniacal laugh echoing in sync. Whoever was this Pidge person had a really weird relatioship with their friends. “you gotta stop embarrasing me in front of my girlfriend.”

“Aweee, you still blush when you call her your girlfriend!” The taller boy cooed completelly ignoring his friend’s complaint, playfully poking one of his now flustered cheeks only to get his hand violently swated away. “I’m just bored out of my mind,” Lance took off his cap, combing his short hair back with his fingers and putting it on again, resting his head between his hands, arms against the counter as he looked at the beach in the distance. “I want to get out of here as soon as possible and ride some waves.”

“The water is calling me.” Lance sighed dreamily, eyes sparkling in the dim light of the almost gone sunset, speckles of fuchsia and aquamarine from the neon sign above his head dancing all over his cheeks, sharpening his dainty features.

Keith suddenly felt the sudden urge to take pictures of him.

“I can hear it too.” What Keith supposed was Pidge, said from somewhere the inside truck, amusement lacing their voice so much till the point he took of his headphones off, paying his whole attention to the apparently speaking mother nature. “it says ‘You’re an idiot’.”

“Shut up, Pidge!” The boy growled, cheeks tinted with either anger, embarrasement or a mix of both, chucking the first things his slim fingers found to use as a weapon in their direction, which happened to be apparently Hunk’s cap. “And get to work, those fries are not going to fry themselves!”

“Relax, merman.” A blonde appeared next to him, their height letting Keith see only them adjusting their glasses. “It’s not like anyone else is gonna come anymore,” They gazed at the beach from side to side, watching the larger trucks making their way to the dock, bringing the big guns for dinnertime. “it’s almost closing time.”

“Then maybe today it’s our lucky day,” Hunk smiled brightly. “Can I help you?”

Keith was so immersed into their conversation it actually took him a few solid seconds to realize the other boy was refereing to him, suddenly three pair of eyes fixated on him, waiting for him to function like a normal human being and just answer the question. Shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously, too dry mouth trying to form any coherent word and sticky hands now sweating furiorsly, he waited paciently for death to strike him right away.

But since faith never seemed to be on his side, you can guess nothing happened.

“Umm...” Keith smacked his lips together, knees going week as the taller boy’s gaze follwed closely the movement, placing gently a hand on Hunk’s chest and stepping fowards, closer to the counter and by extention, closer to Keith.

“I’ll take this, big guy.” Lance said somehow sounding a litttle breathless, fixing his uniform and clearing his throat.

“Hello, there.” He said smoothly, flasing the other boy a cheeky smile as he rested his weight on his elbows. “See something you like?”

Keith had to chew the inside of his cheek to not blurt out ‘you’.

The boy’s blue eyes widening and thin eyebrows flying up his hairline at his silence, a blush covering his cheeks as he started to gesture his hands wildely in the air. He seemed to do that a lot. “I meant on the menu!” Lance corrected himself, Hunk giggling behind his hand as he pretended to busy himself with something else and Pidge snorting loudly beside him not even making a weak attempt to hide it. “You know, food?” He tried once again a little louder as the boy outside the truck didn’t muttered a single word back. “As in what would you like to eat?”

Keith could only blink owlishly at him.

“Ugh, let me start again.” Lance scrubbed his hands down his face, groaning loudly in what sounded like both emarrasement and frustration, peeking in between his fingers to see expectantly if Keith was still standing there.

And since it seemed like his stupid flip flops were stuck with super glue to the ground, he was indeed still standind there.

Why was Lance so nervous? Hell, why was Keith so nervous?

Yeah, maybe he wasn’t much of a people person but he had never this much dificulty when it came to socialize with other strangers such as Allura’s family or Shiro’s co-workers before. Not even at the flower shop where he worked after uni with Coran.

So why was so hard for him to just talk to a pretty boy inside of food truck he was probably not going to see ever again but would probably dream about for the rest of the summer what could have been if he wasn’t so shy and just stepped foward and asked for his number so they could talk about nothing and everything until one of them falls asleep telling the other how much they love the them, adopt dogs together that would probably end up with silly names becase the other boy has a terrible sense of humor and he is only a human, grow old together and live happily ever after?

Okay so he might have an idea of what the problem was.

Looking down at his feet and then looking back up at Lance once again, Keith suddenly felt very aware of what the other boy was probably looking at right now. His tousled black hair sticking up in every direction, sunburnt pinkish skin that now he gave it a thought was starting to itch, body drenched in sweat thanks to the heat which possibly left his nipples, now erect product of the night cool breeze thank you very much, on display through his white tank top, red booty shorts Allura gave him as present last Christmas that left little to nothing to the imagination and of course last but not least, his flip flops.

Boy if he wasn’t the defenition of a hot mess, and not in the good way.

Very unlikely like the boy who was staring back at him.

Glancing back at Lance for what he told himself would be the last time, drinking in his vibrant blue eyes and thin cherry lips, Keith sighed loudly, turning around on his heels and starting to walk away not knowing where he was even going, but at the moment any point of the dock seemed a better place to be than there.

“I gotta go.” He mumbled weakly over his shoulder, not wanting to see the expressions on the trio’s faces. He knew it will be something remotely close to that bitter pity cashiers at the movie teather gave you after saying ‘enjoy your movie’ and answering ‘yo too’ out of pure reflex. And being Keith, you could tell he has been into that situation way too many times before, and only to make it worse, it just so happened it was always the same cashier. 

Letting the hunger eat away the butterflies inside his stomach, he dragged his sticky flip flops right back from where he came, in hopes of finding a food truck without a boy who made him want to write songs about behind the counter.

Just a few steps away, still inside Lance and friends’ food truck radio, not that he ever paid enough attention to the actual name of the establishment in case you couldn’t tell, Keith swore he could hear someone calling out ‘wait!’ and if he was being completely honest he would bet it was Lance’s voice. Oh my God, he could already recognize Lance’s voice, this was bad. He needed to get out of there. Now.

Keith decided meatball sandwich were his new passion. Sorry, Lance who?

The boy smiled to himself, laying starfish like on the cold sand letting the soapy water wash him away from his ankles down and looking up at the stars. And if he was slowly pushing his stupid flip flops into the open sea, no one needed to know. Yeah, maybe the start of his day, and the six hours following that, weren’t that much pleasant, but he could definitely get used to this. A snort leaving his mouth at the thought of the faces Allura and Shiro would give him if he said he wanted to come back tomorrow.

A cold shiver ran up his spine in panic.

He hasn’t made contact with the couple since they made it to the beach.

Keith sat up straight immediatelly, digging his hand into the diminute pocket of his booty shorts fishing for his phone only to find out it was dead.

“You got to be kidding me.” He whined rolling his eyes to the back of his head, turning his upper body in direction of the dock, only whinning louder at the thought of having to leave the little sanctuary he built for himself and search for them like lost kid at the supermarket.

Its not that he didn’t knew his way back home, he was a big boy, is just that Shiro got a little paranoid sometimes. Don’t get him wrong tho, he appreciated at least someone looked out for him. He only didn’t wanted the older one to worry all the time. Knowing you were the reason why a good person like Shiro had white hairs and drank five mugs of coffee by day was a huge wight on anyone’s shoulders.

Washing out idly the sand off his hands into the water to push his hair back and out of the way, he let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his own feet, toes wrinkled like little raisins.

Leaning fowrads to grab a hold of his shoes before they actualy floated far and away, lips quircking up at the freckled sky reflected like a mirror, something at the corner of his perpheral vision caught his attention.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist, pert ass and legs for days.

That was one hell of a attractive raisin.

Even surrounded by the ocean itself, Keith suddenly felt incredibly thirsty.

A slim silhouette was slowly making its way to the water a few feets from where he was sitting, quick to unbutton their jeans and pulling them down their skinny legs revealing blue swimming trunks, letting them pool around his ankles and gracefully spetting out of them, dainty fingers trailing their sides to ruck up the material of their shirt, pulling it over their head and letting it join their pants, and apparently a moss green jacket, bunddled up on the sand.

Spreading their arms open af if they were to take fly, they delved into the ocean in slow motion, immediatelly bursting into a fit of giggles as the waves washed them over soothingly.

Keith couldn’t helping but laugh along in no time even tho he didn’t quite understood what was all the fuzz about.

Dipping both hands into the water to splash it over his face, the man ran his hands through his now completely damp short hair, letting the droplets that didn’t caress his cheeks conect to the ones dripping down his neck and into his back, making the body half that wasn’t submerged glisten with tiny constelations underneath the moonligth.

Keith wanted to reach out and touch the stars with his bare hands.

Suddenly the man turned around and blue eyes were connected to his own.

Of course his bathed in stardust vision was no one else but Lance.

Has he not ridiculazed himself enough to be even with life?

That’s when Keith remembered he was still on his hands and knees, warmth tinting his cheeks and stirring up his belly, sitting back on his heels in one swift movement, the water under his thighs splashing loudly and widly.

Before he had the chance to say something, or grab his shoes and get out of there as soon as possible, which was the original plan in the first place, Lance smiled at him timidly, as if to let him know he recognized him as well but actually afraid he would ran away again at the same time. Maybe Keith was as trasnparent as his wet white tank top to the other boy. The mere thought making him clutch his flip flop close to his chest as he pouted looking down at it.

Keith only snapping back to reality when a gracious laugh broke through the silence, the sound very different from the floating numb conversations back at the dock and the lulling sea at this feet.

“Not trying to sound cheesy or anything,” Lance smirked knowingly in his direction. “but I didn’t catch your name.”

Maybe this won’t be such a bad summer after all.

[sharpsh0cksoftside]

“Cardinal” – A photographic narrative by Roman Vargas

cardinal (adj.) 1.) of the greatest importance 2.) very serious or grave (noun)  1.) a deep, rich color of red

I did write out a short description of this book and it’s up on the website now, but I want to explain just a bit more the idea behind this body of work. The year 2018 was probably one of the worst years I’ve had in a very long time. It did have its moments of beatific splendor, but the negative seemed to overshadow it all. I’ve dealt with a lot of traumatic experiences throughout my entire life and I often wonder where my strength comes from. I really believed I had it all figured out. I really thought I had found out a way to be confident. Had I finally grasped life by the throat and showed it who’s boss? I guess not. I’m a very private person and I don’t ever let people get too close to me but I let my guard down a little too much this time and it all came falling hard on top of me. I don’t know what it is with people mistaking my genuine kindness for weakness but it was extremely prevalent ALL last year. With work, with people who I thought were my friends, in the drag scene, even with family at times. It was the recurring theme that came with a boxset of episodes. I was definitely used at times and I didn’t realize it until it was too late. 

Only a tiny amount of my closest friends know this about me, but I have horrible self-esteem. I’ve hated pretty much everything about myself from the age of 5 and it only got worse in middle school. I hate the way I look. I hate my body. I hate my voice. Everything. It has a whole lot to do with what people were telling me growing up and still to this day, tell me. My skin is a whole lot tougher because of it, and doing drag has made it better. However, I’ve faked this confidence of Roman. It’s been all an act. Donna is extremely confident, but when the makeup and wig come off I’m socially awkward because my mind has been so trained on being treated like absolute shit by people as Roman, that I shut off. I could pop off and hurt their feelings much worse but I’ve learned over the years that killing people with kindness serves as a much better tool. I react very pleasantly to individuals who are kind to me and I will always remember a kind person. But then there are those people who take my kindness and twist it in a way that gets them what they want out of me. Whether its validation, my photo services, anything really. Those people are truly evil. How people like that sleep at night is a fucking mystery to me. I was so angry at myself for the longest time that I let these things happen to me. I kept telling myself that I should have known and that I was being stupid. I let the bad ones slip through the cracks somehow and they sucked the life force out of me. 

So what inspired this whole project in the end? A health scare. One morning in early January I woke up with a few red bumps on me. I thought they were mosquito bites or some sort of bug bites so I didn’t think anything at all. Literally the next day, they were all over my body. My neck, my chest, my torso, my back, my legs. They were red, varied in size, itchy and made me irritable. I go to the doctor and they’ve never seen anything like it. They have no idea what’s wrong with me. That’s comforting right? When the doctor told me he did not have a diagnosis for me, I truly fucking spiraled out of control. I had to be tested for just about everything so the scenarios I had in my head while I sat at home, missing work and alone in my thoughts, were not helping my mental state. I had to be given an antibiotic cream that somehow made me achy and the smell of it was putrid. “You have to relax” the doctor kept saying to me over and over. It took almost 3 weeks for me to heal entirely and I still have a few tiny scars from some of the bumps. I had a follow up with my doctor and what he told me really put things into perspective. “The way you stress, is going to be what kills you one day.” Harsh, but I needed to hear it. I bottled up so much shit from last year that it decided to just project outwards onto my body in the form of a rash. That’s when I knew it was probably time for me to seek out some help. I never wanted to be “that girl” who saw a therapist but in all seriousness I should have been seeing a therapist a long time ago. My mind is broken and I don’t know how to fix it anymore. For what seems like my entire life, I’ve been patching up the hurt on the inside with a band-aid but there’s only so much band-aids can do. I always have wanted to suffer on my own and not ask for help but I’m afraid if I don’t that I will really die. The next time I know it’s not going to be just a rash, it’s going to be a stroke or something. No more feeling shame, I need to build myself from the ground up and just restart. I want to love myself. I want to learn to tell myself that I AM important and that I do have a purpose. 

“Cardinal” seemed to be the perfect title for this project. It will be a reminder to myself that I am of the UTMOST importance. If I can’t work on myself to see that in myself then I will be creating, in my eyes, a cardinal sin. It’s time to spit out the negative demon that has lived inside of me for far too long, feeding me bullshit, and really pursue my life the way I want to without worrying about what people perceive of me. I know it won’t happen over night, but I’ll get there.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"A Cardinal Quality is attached to the signs Aries, Cancer, Libra and Capricorn. Cardinal Signs are the initiators of the zodiac. Individuals possessing a Cardinal Quality like to get things going. They are active, quick and ambitious. You won’t find a Cardinal person slacking off. These people are full of vim and vigor and possess a drive and ambition that is unmistakable. Enthusiasm and a zest for life fill the Cardinal individual. Some might perceive this rampant energy as domineering, and, at times, it can be. Cardinal people can easily forget about the rest of the pack when they are busily focusing on their own endeavors. Even so, their energetic spirit often wins the day."

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

You Make Me Better

BASED ON THIS POST by @bleebug and subsequent comments from @thesschesthair and @seethelovelyintheworld Thanks ladies for this inspirational prompt, I had a great time writing this.  Thanks to @laschatzi and @xhookswenchx for read through and beta services!

Also on ao3 and ffnet

CS Neighbors AU where Emma is a nurse and Killian is her definitely-faking-it hypochondriac neighbor who uses illnesses and injuries as an excuse to talk to her.

*~♥~*

Emma had just put her dinner together and sat down on her couch with a nice glass of red wine, and Netflix ready to go. The upside to working in a small private practice was for the first time since attending college, Emma Swan had a somewhat normal schedule. It allowed her peaceful evenings to herself to do what she pleased. Tonight she’d been home from another long day for a mere half an hour and was beyond ready to relax.

“Swan!”

“I should have turned off the goddamn lights,” she muttered.

“Swaaaan!” the interloper persisted, pounding on her door again.

The downside meant a certain pesky neighbor soliciting free medical advice on the regular. Rolling her eyes, she put the television remote and her glass of wine on the coffee table, knowing he wasn’t going to let up.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t be neighborly, but Killian Jones was a menace. The man was a hypochondriac of the worst kind - a fake hypochondriac - some new illness ailing him weekly. She flung her door open just as he was poised to knock again. The breeze it caused carried in his scent, and Emma was olfactorily assaulted by just one of the real reasons Killian Jones drove her crazy.  The next havoc he wreaked on her was the sight waiting before her. Killian Jones, shirtless… again, gingerly propped up against the frame of her door. Last time he’d shown up shirtless he’d insisted that a tiny mosquito bite on his back was a case of the shingles. She wondered if his shirtless visits were nothing more than a chance for him to flaunt his altogether delicious chest: just the right amount of definition and muscle covered by taut skin that pulled as he gesticulated his every word, all overlaid with beautiful black chest hair that descended into a thin trail disappearing under the waistband of his pajama pants.

“Swan, thank the gods you’re here, lass. I need medical assistance.”

And therein was another assault on her senses, that goddamn accent. She could listen to him all day and all night. Sometimes she did listen to him in the middle of the night, when that bastard invaded her dreams.

Looking into his crystalline blue eyes as he spoke to her through perfectly shaped lips, Emma almost didn’t hear his desperate plea for help. Goddammit, get ahold of yourself!  “What is it this time, Jones?” Emma spoke casually, hoping he wouldn’t see how he affected her.  

“I seem to have to have a lump, right about here,” he said, feeling himself up in her entryway. “Ah, there it is.” He grabbed her hand and placed her fingers right above his nipple, then pressed her hand into his skin.

Well, this was one of the five senses he’d yet to affront. He felt delectable under her palm. Emma rolled her eyes at his smirk, trying to curtail the urge to slide her fingers through his chest hair, and maybe even tug on it a little. “I don’t feel anything, Jones.”

“That’s because you’re not hitting quite the right spot, love.” As per usual his tone alluded to a carnality Emma found to be on her mind more than was probably healthy.  He wrapped his hand around her wrist and slid it up a little further along his pectoral. He followed by placing his hand over hers, and kneading them over his warm flesh.

Emma’s breath hitched at his maneuvering, damn him, she thought. “I still don’t feel anything,” she half accused and half groaned. Why was he doing this to her?

“Are you quite sure, Swan,” he asked cheekily, eyebrow arching toward the heavens.

Two could play games. Emma pushed into his chest, then pinched him, hard.  Ignoring his yelp, she continued to push him back farther. “That’s your pectoralis minor muscle, I’m sure it feels the same on the opposite side.”

“You should check just to be sure. Early detection is key,” he pleaded, turning the pout in those baby blues up a notch.

She could feel a blush creeping up her neck again, she wanted to touch his chest more, she wanted to caress it and lick it and- “Your breasts are fine, if you’re unhappy with my medical opinion you should probably see an oncologist. Good Night, Jones.” She’d pushed him back far enough that she could close the door on his menacing ass.

“Fine Swan, but you’ll regret it if you’re the death of me!” he called through the door.

“Doubtful,” she mumbled, sagging against her door; she could hear her own lie in her response.  He looked, sounded, smelled, and felt perfect. The only frontier left unexplored was taste. Emma stomped her foot against the floor as her lusty mind betrayed her, she felt like flailing her arms about in frustration. Yes, Emma Swan was a highly frustrated young woman. There was always something wrong with them, she thought. Of her more serious relationships, one had been ready to get married a month into dating, one had bailed during a pregnancy scare, and the other just hadn’t done anything for her, good man, just no chemistry.  

After finishing her dinner and cleaning up, Emma turned on Netflix. She became increasingly resentful every time she realized she was thinking about him, and not watching her show. God he was hot though, and that accent did things to her insides.  An uncontrollable shiver ran up her spine when she thought about how that chest hair would feel grazing across her breasts.

Killian had seemed to be the full package when she met him. Realizing she was moving in, he’d offered to help her by taking her few boxes of possessions up to her apartment. He had grinned widely when she pushed the elevator button to his floor. As she stopped to unlock the apartment next door to his he’d said, must be fate. He was intelligent, kind, could carry a conversation, and of course he was drop dead gorgeous.

She soon saw a different side of Killian Jones, the hypochondriac. Within her first month living next door he had insisted he was dying from overdosing on children’s Tylenol, the idiot. Blathering on about being scared, and things he still needed to do in life. He’d wanted her to hold him in his final moments, the man was drama incarnate!  She’d never forget the time he’d claimed a broken rib, coming straight from the park where he’d been playing football with friends; he’d shown up, dirty, sweaty, and looking all kinds of fuckable, and of course shirtless. She snorted when she thought of the time he’d wondered if he could have prostate issues...

“I believe I may have an enlarged prostate,” he whispered.

“Why do you think that,” she whispered back, looking out into the hallway to see if there was someone else around. “What’s with all the cloak and dagger?”

“This is a sensitive matter, Swan, I’d have thought you would understand that.”

“Oh, well yes, of course I understand.”

He stood there looking at her, “Well are you going to invite me in or question me out here in the hallway?”

Opening the door, she swept her arm in a grand motion signaling for him to enter.  

He sat down on her couch, looking around at her apartment. She felt like she was under a microscope, her sparse decor a little embarrassing.

“How is it a lass as pretty as yourself doesn’t surround herself in the same beauty?” he asked.

Emma didn’t know how to respond to that, she’d always sucked at receiving compliments. “Umm, I just haven’t had much time to go out and buy home decor and shit.”

“And shit?” he laughed heartily. “Darling, this is your domain, habitat, abode, your home. It should be everything you desire.” He ran his tongue along his lower lip after practically purring the word desire.

Emma found herself staring at his mouth, wondering what that tongue might feel like running across her lower lip. No, Emma!  Shaking away the errant thought, she went back to the matter at hand. “So what’s going on with your prostate, Jones?”

For a moment he looked as though he hadn’t the slightest clue what she was referring to before answering her. “I don’t know, isn’t that what you’re supposed to figure out?” he smirked.

Emma narrowed her eyes, feeling as though he was issuing a challenge.  “Ok, what symptoms are you having? Some of the most common would be the frequent urge to urinate, slow or impeded flow while urinating, and trouble achieving or maintaining an erection. Are you having trouble getting it up?” she asked point blank, staring at him with wide eyes. She mentally high fived herself. That ought to take him down a notch.

“I assure you I am having no issues achieving or maintaining anything,” he answered in a slightly affronted tone. “The Captain always performs.”

Maybe not, was there anything to take him down a notch? “Are you experiencing pressure? Perhaps you need your prostate milked?” she suggested. “I have gloves, are you allergic to latex?”

“Actually, I am feeling much better. I think I’ll be just fine,” he sputtered. He stood up, preparing to make his exit, she assumed.

“Oh, don’t be afraid,” Emma said sweetly, “it shouldn’t hurt, many men find the sensation arousing.” She couldn’t believe herself. Was she taunting him? Teasing him? Flirting? The look on his face was so worth it though, somewhere between shock and well, she wasn’t quite sure.

“I’ll take your word for it, love.” His hand was up behind his ear, rubbing nervously, and she found the motion endearing. “I think I’ll take my leave now. Good night, Swan.”

“Good night!” she replied in a sing song voice. She had felt a small sense of victory. It was always him making her uncomfortable, with his chest on display, and reasons she needed to touch him. She’d finally managed to get to him. An inkling in the back of her mind asked just what game they were playing, but she stuffed it to the far recesses of thought, trying to bask in her victory.

“Fuck,” she muttered, turning off her show, and slamming the remote next to her. Taking a deep drink of her wine, she wished not for the first time that Killian was not her neighbor, but rather some guy in a bar that she could have her way with, and never see again. One simply did not fuck one’s neighbor though. She was pretty sure she read that in the Miss Manners column... or was it Dear Abby?

*~♥~*

After a restless night’s sleep filled with dreams of a cocky, blue eyed pest, Emma finally resolved herself to the fact that there was no more sleep to be had. Looking at her bedside clock she noted that it was only a quarter past seven. Just one more thing she could blame on him. Fucking sleep disturbing asshole.

She got out of bed, threw her hair into a ponytail, and got dressed to take a jog. Nothing like a brisk morning run to clear her mind, blow off steam, and get those endorphins flowing. Putting in her earbuds she headed for the elevator. Pressing the down arrow and humming the melody pumping into her ears, she began to stretch, reaching her joined hands first skyward, than behind her to open up her chest. The elevator doors opened, Emma hopped in and selected ground level. Placing one hand on the back wall of the elevator, she reached behind her and grabbed her foot to stretch out her hamstring, switching to the other she jumped when the elevator finally lurched to life. Standing tall she rotated her torso stretching her back and shoulders. Finally she bent at the waist reaching for her toes, giving her legs one final stretch.  

When the elevator came to a halt she turned around to exit and walked straight into a wall of man. A fucking cocky blue eyed man. His hands had shot around her waist, steadying her as she stumbled backward. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she focused on his face to see a fully entertained expression.

“That’s quite the routine you have there, darling, care to demonstrate for me? I’d hate to pull a muscle.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open. He was shameless. Slapping at his hands she brushed past him to exit the elevator. “You won’t be laughing when you’re in pain because you didn’t prepare properly,” she huffed as she headed for the building exit.  As soon as she hit the street she set a brisk walking pace, focusing on her music and the simplistic purity of an early morning run.  Before she knew it that show off was breezing by her. That ass had the nerve to turn around and blow her a kiss as he jogged backwards. She scowled at him and silently wished he would trip, but more so she wished he didn’t bring out her inner two year old. He turned back around and picked up his pace.  Normally, Emma would walk the first block to warm up a little, but she was not going to let Jones beat her in a foot race.  Stepping it up she was keeping pace with him in no time.  

“So kind of you to join me, Swan,” he smiled as if he’d won a prize.  

She rolled her eyes as she picked up her pace again, leaving him behind. Smiling to herself, she felt a smug sense of accomplishment. She’d been ahead of him for several minutes now, wondering where he was, she chanced a glance behind her.  “What the-”  He’d disappeared. Perhaps he’d given up; for some untold reason that didn’t sit well with Emma. Before she had a moment more to dwell on it, that bastard popped up 30 feet in front of her, now shirtless. “Goddammit,” she cursed, wiping the sweat that was dripping down her brow.

“What are you doing way back there, love?” he called out as he annoyingly jogged backwards again while waving to her.

Growling, she broke into a semi sprint to catch up to him. “Shortcuts will get you nowhere in life, Jones,” she scolded, noting his soaked t-shirt now hanging from the waistband of his shorts.

He just chuckled at her indignant tone, infuriating her even more.  That was how they found themselves in a full on sprint around the local park and back home. As they reached the entrance to the building Emma began to stretch once more, the last thing she needed was to be cramping up for the rest of the weekend.  She ignored the shiver that shot through her body as he watched her unabashedly.

“Good form, Swan,” he complimented in a reverent tone.

“You should stretch too or you’ll be in pain tomorrow,” she recommended as they stepped into the elevator.

“I’ve been doing this long enough to know what my body can take, I’ll be just fine, but your concern for my safety and well-being is touching.”

Emma was zoned out, temporarily entranced by the way his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. The final frontier, tasting Jones. She realized he had ceased talking and was smirking at her again. “Yeah, I mean...umm, what?” she asked.

“I said your concern for my safety and well-being is touching,” he repeated slowly, emphasizing his last word. “Wherever did you go, Swan?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Perhaps I would,” he answered with a tinge of hope in his voice.

The elevator doors opened and Emma quickly exited, needing to get away from this exasperating man. “See you later,” she said as she ducked inside her apartment.

Yep, he was an absolute menace, this run had the opposite result of what she’d hoped for. Envisioning the way the sweat glistened upon his body in the morning sun, and remembering the way his muscles and tendons had worked powerfully under his skin, Emma felt that telltale weightless sensation rush through her lower regions. That sensation that only ever ended with Emma satisfying herself and his name on her lips. She groaned as her nipples hardened and her clit began to ache, her panties were as damp as her sweat laden clothes. “Fuck you,” she muttered to her body’s betrayal.

Walking quickly to her bedroom she stripped all of her clothes off and spread herself out on her bed. She could hear Killian’s shower running through her bedroom wall, and the thought of hot water cascading down his body only served to fuel her desperation. Emma brought her hand down to her entrance and ran her fingers through her wetness, whimpering out of sheer need. Stroking her fingers back up, she gently rubbed small tight circles against her clit. The smooth wet glide and the sounds of flesh against flesh worked her higher, her breathing coming in short pants as she pinched lightly at her nipples with her free hand. That’s when she heard it, or rather heard him. She froze, listening for that long drawn out moan again. Sweet mercy, there it was again, Emma began petting herself, new arousal coating her fingers, and fuck if this wasn’t the hottest thing she could remember in forever.  Just the thought of him, cock in hand stroking furiously had her walls fluttering. She was almost there, when he grunted followed by a small shout, she plunged her fingers inside her slippery channel grinding down on her palm. It took just three little thrusts to bring her off, whispering his name over and over again. She struggled to catch her breath, and her hearing was hollowed in one ear. Goddamn that was good, she mused as bliss continued to thrill through her body.  These were the endorphins she’d hoped to release with this morning’s run. Guess all it took was some self love, she thought. Emma’s body felt boneless as she lay relaxed and sated on her bed deciding if she should shower or just bask in the comfort. She’d had her eyes closed for two or three minutes when there was an incessant knocking at her door. She decided to ignore it, she wasn’t expecting anyone on this now decidedly glorious Saturday morning.  

“Swan, please, please, please, open the door,” Killian pleaded.

“Oh fuck!” Emma panicked jumping off her bed. Scurrying to her bathroom she washed her hands thoroughly, threw on her bathrobe and tried to smooth out her hair.  She splashed some water on her face to try and cool herself off, hoping the flush would fade, like immediately. Fuck he’s going to know what I was doing!

“Love, please,” he called out.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” The unintentional pun was not lost on her, and she was sure she’d just pinked to another level. Shit! Will he be able to tell by looking at me?

She opened the door slightly and peeked out at his once again shirtless form.  “What?”

“Lovely to see you too, darling,” he grumbled. “I need your help, please let me in.”

“I can’t right now, I need to shower,” she told him, not opening the door any further.

“I need you to relieve this muscular discomfort I’m experiencing.”

Emma’s eyes widened comically, hadn’t he just relieved his own discomfort? “You can take care of that yourself,” she said as she attempted to close the door.

“Emma, please,” he spoke seriously.

She was shocked to hear her actual name come from his mouth, he never used her name. It was always Swan, or some endearment that would’ve made her cringe if anyone else said it.

“Okay, come in.”

“I can hardly walk, would you mind helping me?”

Before she could answer he threw his arm around her shoulder and balanced his weight between her and his right leg. As they hobbled over to the couch she noticed he was not putting any weight on his left leg.

Emma laughed as she realized that her poor stubborn neighbor had a leg cramp. “Told you to stretch,” she chuckled.

“Now is not the time for ‘I told you so’s’ love. I almost died.”

Emma burst into full on laughter, “Calf cramps don’t kill, you’re such a dork!” She bent over him helping him to sit down on the couch. She tensed when she heard him inhaling deeply at her neck. Oh fuck, will he be able to tell by smelling me?

Killian narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t the cramp that almost killed me. You see, I was in the shower when suddenly this cramp attacked me, almost causing me to fall. Who knows what could’ve happened had I hit my head, or broken my neck or...”

Oh. Dear. God. Emma didn’t hear another word as she blankly sat down at the foot of the couch. Had she really just masturbated to the sounds of her neighbor’s extremely painful leg cramp? She wanted to hide, be swallowed into the cushions of her couch, dissipate into thin air, something, anything to not be right here, right now.  

“Paging Dr. Swan!”

“Oh, sorry. I ummm, okay what do you want me to do?” she asked out of sheer guilt. Not that he knew... but she knew.

“Oh, plenty darling,” he smirked.

“Be serious!” she chided, slapping his leg.

“Oi! That hurt,” he hissed. “For starters how about you don’t hit the patient. Then, could you please use those magical healing hands of yours to massage this cramp away?” he finished sweetly.

Emma looked down at his calf. It really was a doozy of a cramp, she could see the muscle contracting under his skin.

“I don’t mind you staring at me Swan, but I don’t think it’s going to help. Perhaps you could massage and stare?” he suggested.

Emma huffed out a deep sigh and walked away.

“Alright, just the massage then, lass?”

She returned a moment later with a white tube and a pair of gloves.

“I thought we already agreed that I do not need my prostate milked, are you really so anxious?”

Emma didn’t know whether to laugh or slap him again.  “Shut up,” she said lightly, “it’s Arnicare, it’ll help soothe the ache after it has been massaged in well.” She began to put on the gloves.

“No gloves, I’m allergic to latex.”

“Of course you are,” Emma rolled her eyes. He probably said that to all the girls.

Squeezing a small amount of the gel onto her palms she rubbed it around and then set to work on Killian’s calf. She wondered how many places she would get to touch Killian Jones without touching him where she actually wanted to. Head out of the gutter, Emma! She delicately smoothed along the contracting muscle, she could feel as it started to relax a bit. Then she set to work massaging it away.

He moaned as she worked the area, “Gods that feels amazing, darling” he mumbled.

Her eyes went wide, for Christ’s sake that was the same noise he made in the shower. Pain and pleasure sounded the same when elicited from this man’s mouth. She worked the area for a few minutes more increasing pressure slightly until the knot was no longer present. Getting up from the couch she walked to her kitchen to wash her hands, then dug around in her cupboards for a heating pack.

“Heat this up and apply it to your calf for about twenty minutes. It might hurt over the next couple days because it was pulling quite tightly. Just rotate ice and heat, take Ibuprofen if you need to. For my sake, please read the bottle, I wouldn’t want you to risk overdosing on over the counter pain relievers again.” She giggled at his huff of annoyance, and maybe chagrin. “See you later Jones, I gotta shower.”

“Can I be of assistance to you, Swan, it’s only fair I return the favor you know. Love Thy Neighbor and all that,” he winked as he tossed out his suggestive offer.

“I think I can handle it on my own.” Emma rolled her eyes, escorting him to the door. If she rolled her eyes anymore at this man, they might truly get stuck that way.  

“Oh, I’m quite sure you can handle a great many things all on your own, love,” he said, looking her up and down as he ran that goddamn tongue over his bottom lip.

Emma turned what she could only assume was a Guinness Record breaking shade of red, before she pushed him out the door and slammed it shut. He fucking knew.

*~♥~*

Emma was relieved when she didn’t see Killian for a couple days. She needed some time to pretend that he did not know about her Saturday morning solo delight.

Almost a week had passed when she finally heard from him, it was well into her evening when a knock sounded. She was more excited at the prospect of seeing him than she wanted to be.

“I am freezing cold, feel me.”

“Well put on a goddamn shirt to start with,” she said, rolling her eyes at having to voice the most obvious solution.

“I can’t stop shaking. I feel weak, and I am freezing.” He stepped toward her, grasping her hand and placing it on his cheek. “See, I’m dying aren’t I? What is it? Malaria? The Red Death? The Black Plague?” Killian’s voice became more dramatic as he ticked off his ridiculous diagnoses.

“Easy tiger, unless you’ve been traveling out of the country, time traveling to the 14th century, or you’re a storybook character from the mind of Edgar Allen Poe, I think we can safely rule out all of the above.”  He’s from a book alright, straight off the cover a Harlequin romance novel, she thought. Emma realized her hand was still on his cheek and pulled it back, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. She prayed for him not to notice.

“Swan! I am contagious, you’re flush darling, I’ve already infected you!” He bit his bottom lip in feigned alarm. The bastard knew.

Emma rolled her eyes, and walked back inside her apartment. Heading to her kitchen she grabbed the bottle of Tylenol, then walked back to the door where he was waiting patiently. “Here, take two of these-

“And call you in the morning,” he interrupted cheekily.

She couldn’t stop the giggle before it was out of her mouth. What the fuck! she thought, I am not a babbling schoolgirl, I am a grown ass woman. A doctor for fuck’s sake. “Take two of these and you’ll be good as new. In fact take the bottle, and take two pills every 4 to 6 hours. If your fever doesn’t break after 24 hours you should see a doctor.”

“That’s what I am attempting to do. You are a doctor aren’t you?”

Emma couldn’t argue that logic, she supposed she could write him a script if he had something more serious than the common cold. “Fine, let me know if you don’t feel better.” She couldn’t believe the words as they left her mouth, yet she couldn’t deny him her help.

“Aye, Doctor Swan. Thank you for saving my life yet again,” he told her, grabbing her hand to place a gentle kiss to her knuckles.  

*~♥~*

Later that evening she laid in bed letting her mind wander, somehow she just knew that the medicine was not going to help, he would be back. He always came back. She could still feel the tingling of his manicured-to- perfection beard on the palm of her hand, and she imagined what that tingling would feel like between her thighs.

She desperately needed to figure out what was going on. She already knew he wasn’t really a hypochondriac. Did he just enjoy annoying her? Was he teasing her? Flirting? Emma didn’t do long term, so the very thought of him playing the long game was a little intimidating, but she also didn’t hate his antics. She was confused, that was the only thing that was clear. She decided when he came back, because he was magically not cured, she would address this thing going on between them.

*~♥~*

When he didn’t come back the next day, she was a little disappointed that he hadn’t needed her again, and a lot disappointed that she felt disappointment. No attachments, no roots, look out for yourself and you’ll never get hurt, right? she asked herself. Perhaps he actually did just need the Tylenol, and there was no ulterior motive this time.  By the afternoon of the second day she decided she couldn’t wait anymore, anticipation and nerves were eating at her, she needed to address their situation, or whatever it was.

She knocked on his door and waited, when he didn’t answer she decided to take a page out of his book and pounded impatiently, calling his name through the door. The sight that greeted her was not at all what she expected. Killian was covered head to toe, including a plaid robe, and a huge fuzzy blanket wrapped around his head and body, all she could see was his face. His eyes were glossy, his nose was swollen and red, and his lips were very pale.

“Killian, what happened? What’s wrong.”

“I did not get better doctor. I was planning to inform you, but I haven’t felt up to leaving my bed.” His voice was hoarse and he grimaced as he brought his hand up to massage his throat. “It hurts a bit to talk, but I must tell you it is like hearing angels sing to hear you say my name,” he whispered.

“What?”

“You’ve never called me by my first name, lass.”

She rolled her eyes, “You never call me by my first name either, but that’s beside the point right now. I told you to go to the doctor if the fever wasn’t gone after 24 hours!”

“I haven’t left my bed, Emma. It is only your voice that made me drag my arse to the door. And I have in fact used your first name if we are debating the topic.”

She blushed at the emphasis he put on her name, as though it were a sacred word.  One moment she was lost in his eyes, not knowing what to say, and the next moment he was swaying before her. She was able to catch him as he faded in and out of consciousness.

“Have you been taking any medicine? Have you been drinking enough fluids?” Emma asked as she put her hand to his forehead. “Oh shit, you’re burning up!” She supported his weight as best she could and guided him to her apartment. She led him to her bed, and pulled the blankets back, helping him to lay down. She was directly over his chest when he wrapped his arms around her.

“This was a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time don’t stand on ceremony. You could’ve had me in your bed ages ago, love.”

“You’re delirious, I’ll be right back,” she told him, not waiting for his rebuttal.

Gathering some washcloths, a bowl, a few bottles of water, and Nyquil, Emma headed back to her patient. She was unsurprised to see he was passed out, sprawled across the whole of her bed, mouth open, and snoring as only someone with a stuffy nose can. Sitting on the side of the bed, she took the opportunity to run her fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead.

“Not exactly how I pictured our first time in bed together,” she mumbled.

He stirred a bit, his body restless, she didn’t want to wake him but he needed fluids and something to take the fever down.  “Killian,” she said softly, she shook his arm a bit.

“What?” he whined. “Let me sleep, I am tired, cold, my head is pounding, and I hurt all over.”

“That’s why I need you to get up and take something for the fever, you’ll feel so much better.” She waved the foil package of liquid gel tabs invitingly.

He made for a comical sight still wrapped up like a peasant woman in the winter, as he struggled to sit up. “Fine.” Petulance was cute on Killian Jones.

She handed him a bottle of water, “Drink up.”

“Give me the bloody pills.”

“Uh, just because you feel like shit doesn’t mean you get to forego manners,” she scolded him. “Drink first, you’re dehydrated.

“Am not,” he argued like a two year old before taking a long drink. “Apologies, give me the bloody pills, please.”

She snorted at his crankiness, handing him the Nyquil. “Lay back down, your fever should break soon. You probably want to sleep through that.”

“I would sleep much better if I had someone to cuddle me. Perhaps a massage again. You healed my cramp. I truly do hurt everywhere,” he smirked, waggling those damn eyebrows.

“Cuddle with your blanket, Jones. You poor delirious dork.”

He scoffed at her refusal, but was out moments later. Emma poured one of the water bottles into the bowl and sponged his head with a cool cloth. She freely admired every facet of his face without fear of being caught drooling. After making a quick call to her favorite nurse - August, to ask for a huge favor, she went to the kitchen to make some chicken noodle soup. Emma didn’t like to brag, but she did love to cook, and would have gone to culinary school had healing people not been in her blood.  Once she had everything simmering she went to go check on him.

“My beautiful Swan, there you are!” Killian said merrily when she peeked in on him.

She chuckled at his exuberance, “Someone is feeling better.” She noticed he’d finally un-burrowed himself, having removed his blanket and pants. Why his pants? Too bad the robe is still on, Emma thought.

Patting the bed beside him quite vigorously he nodded her over, “Come on, love. I have discovered what ails me!”

Emma walked over to the bed and had a seat, “What’s your diagnosis, Dr. Jones?”

“Ooh, like Indiana Jones?”

She just laughed at him again, “Okay, what’s your diagnosis, Indiana Jones?”

“Lovesickness! I’m afraid I’ve no immunity to your charms, love.”

Emma’s eyes went wide, pink rising on her cheeks as she looked anywhere but at him. Focusing on her nightstand she suddenly noticed an object that she had not placed there. “What the fuck?” she held up the offending object.

“That’s me rum flask,” he said jovially, reaching for it.

Emma held it out of his reach. “What are you a pirate? And where did this come from?”

He patted the pocket of his robe proudly indicating where he’d been hiding his treasure. “Aye lass, and I’ve come to steal you away. ‘Tis the only cure for my lovesickness,” he said, serious as could be.

“You’re not supposed to drink alcohol with Nyquil.”

“Why on earth not?” he asked indignantly.

Emma narrowed her eyes at his tone, “Because I said so, and because Dextromethorphan and Ethanol don’t mix well, the combination can make you loopy as fuck and say stupid shit!”

“Oooh, because you said so. Bossy little thing, you are,” he teased.

“Be serious, this can be dangerous, how much did you drink?”

“I can’t be serious, love. I am ‘loopy as fuck and saying stupid shit’,” he quoted her, affecting a perfect American accent.

“Goddammit, Killian, how much?”

“Two sips, I promise Dr. Swan,” he said solemnly.

She was midway into a sigh of relief when he burst into song.

“I take two sips in the morning, I take two sips at night, I take two sips in the afternoon, it makes me feel alright, I take two sips in time of peace, and two in time of war, I take two sips before I take two sips, and then I take two more.”

She stared at him, part of her wanted to crack up at his impromptu remake of Sublime’s Smoke Two Joints, the other part wanted to call her nurse back and add syrup of Ipecac to the list, just to torture this idiot a little bit.

“You know Swan, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I am a full grown man.”

Manchild, Emma thought.

“Every time I’ve come to you it was merely a ploy to garner your attentions, spend time in your vivacious presence.”

His florid words were making her blush again, how could he be so ridiculous one moment, and sweeter than pie the next?

“I do know how much alcohol and Nyquil I can handle, love.”

“You thought you were overdosing on children’s Tylenol-”

“A thinly veiled attempt to speak to my beautiful neighbor,” he cut her off, folding his arms over his chest.

Emma heard the knock on the door that she had been waiting for. “Okay Casanova, you wait here, I’ll be back .”

“Casanova is but a boy. It’s a man you need, Swan.”

Rolling her eyes she went to the door. She’d called her nurse to pick up the things she needed for Killian once she’d realized he might have more than just a common cold.

“Thank you, August, I appreciate you running all this over,” Emma told her nurse, and close friend, August Booth. “I don’t think it’s strep but I want to check, did you grab a test kit?”

“It’s all in there, Emma,” he assured her.

“Alright, thanks again, you’re a lifesaver,” she said, giving him a hug.

“Who is this?” Killian asked, now standing in the hallway.

“I told you I’d be right back,” she sighed. “August, this is my neighbor, Killian. Killian this is-”

“Aye, I’m your neighbor, he’s your August. Perhaps I should be gathering my things. Apologies mate, I didn’t realize-”

“This is August, my colleague,” Emma finished raising her voice above Killian’s.

“Pretty, British, and polite? He’s a keeper, girlfriend,” August winked at Emma. “Dr. Blanchard and Dr. Nolan said they’d split your patients tomorrow. They want you to take the day off, make a long weekend out of it and … I believe they said, play doctor with your hot neighbor.”

Killian’s eyes lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. “So you’ve heard of me?” he asked smugly.

Emma’s eyes went from deer caught in headlights to evil eye as she silently forbade August to admit she’d spilled her hot neighbor stories.

Killian looked between them, one eyebrow raised in question, one side of his bottom lip bit between his teeth, “Come on August, ‘fess up mate.”

August dramatically locked his lips and threw away the key, right before he winked at Killian and nodded his head vigorously.

“I knew it!” Killian claimed in a more than triumphant tone.

Emma gasped in outrage. “We’ve been friends since… like forever, August Booth! You’re on shit detail as soon as I walk into the office Monday morning.”

August bent down as if searching for something, finding his imaginary key he unlocked his lips and asked, “So you’ll take tomorrow off to play doctor then?”

“Ooh, I like him, Swan. Very quick on the uptake.”

Ignoring Killian, Emma put her hands on her hips and scowled at August. “Seriously? Just go, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yes! Your brother owes me twenty bucks. He said you had no interest in making nice with Tall, Hot, and British over here. Blanchard and I said-”

“Oh my god, August, just go! Now, or I’ll make it two weeks on shit detail!”

“Fine… Mary Margaret was right, you need a good-”

“Don’t fucking say it!” she yelled.

With that August took his leave, hightailing it out the door before Emma literally kicked his ass through it.

“So lass-”

“Go to your room… our roo-, my fucking room, and don’t say another word,” Emma told him without even looking in his direction.

“But what if I’ve mixed too much Ethernet and Dexterwhatsitcalled?”

“You’ll be fine, just go,” she said quietly.

Emma sat down defeatedly at her kitchen table. Outed by her best friend, her willpower and resolve bet against by her sister-in-law. August was surely on his way to rub it in David’s face. Her own brother was going to know she was shacked up with Tall, Hot, and British. Before she could get too worked up her phone chimed with an incoming text.

AB: I did you a favor ♥

ES: Et tu brute

AB: Now who’s the drama queen?

AB: If it makes you feel better, there was no actual bet. It was an attempt to push you in the right direction. You talk about him all the time, you two are like kindergarteners. He may as well pull your pigtails while you kick his shin.

AB: Emma? Did you already run off to take his temperature? Orally or Rectally?

Emma couldn’t help but snort at the text.

ES: Enough, you guys are forgiven. Now leave me alone. I have a patient to treat.

AB: Get it girl!

Emma got up from the table and walked toward her bedroom. She was a grown up and could admit her feelings. He’d admitted his. He might not remember, but maybe he would. When she peeked into her room she was somewhat relieved to see he was asleep again. Since he was snoring open mouthed again, she took the opportunity to swab his throat quickly to run the strep test. As she waited for the results she checked his vitals while he couldn’t tout his innuendos about playing doctor with him. His temperature had come down, and his heart rate and blood pressure were perfect. The test came back negative, so he either had a bitch of a bad cold, or the flu; good thing she’d had her flu shot.

Emma went to get the rest of the supplies from the bag that August had delivered. She put together a tray for him with a bottle Pedialyte, water, cough drops, tylenol, kleenex, and Vick’s rub,  and put it on the nightstand next to him. Grabbing a sticky note she wrote him a quick message to drink the Pedialyte first, then water, and to wake her if he got hungry.  

*~♥~*

Emma woke the next morning to the smell of fresh brewed coffee and the sound of the shower running. Well if he was in the shower, he must feel a little better, right? she mused. She got up off the couch to pour herself a cup of coffee and realized then that it wasn’t the shower but the washing machine running. Wondering what he was washing, she headed to her room. When she opened the door she noticed her bed was stripped bare, and that Killian was nowhere to be found.  She felt her heart squeeze a little, and as she stared at her empty bedroom she mentally berated herself for every hope she’d entertained the night before.  

“Emma-”

“Oh shit!” Emma yelped, clutching her heart. “You scared me to death,” she yelled as she spun  around on Killian. “It’s rude to-” she stopped mid sentence as she took in her truly hot neighbor. His hair was still damp from the shower and hung down over his forehead. He was shirtless as usual, all lean cut muscle, and holy hot hell, all he wore was one of her thin pink towels wrapped around himself. She wanted to reach out and grab him by the waist, caress his hip bones with her thumbs as she clutched onto his sides; follow that thin dark trail of hair with her lips as low as he’d let her.

“To stare?”

“What?” she asked, still in a daze. She could only hope she wasn’t drooling, because she had definitely been caught ogling.

“You were telling me what’s rude, lass.”

“Yeah, what does that have to do with staring?” She felt like she was having a conversation about space time continuum at the moment.

“It’s rude to stare? I’ve no clue where you were going with your sentence,” he explained.

Emma shook her head trying to focus. She was having a hard time thinking about anything other than how much she wanted to be that towel right now.  For fuck’s sake, get ahold of yourself! She blushed as she realized he was making fun of her. “Yes, it is rude to stare, but it is also rude to sneak up on people,” she said softly.

“It was not my intention to sneak up on you, darling. I umm...” his hand shot up to fidget behind his ear. He was cute when he was nervous, and Emma knew he was nervous anytime that hand went to his ear. “I seem to be locked out of my apartment, and I’ve also no clothes as mine are in the wash with the sheets,” he reddened as he spoke. If she wasn’t witnessing this moment herself, Emma would have thought it impossible for Killian Jones to actually experienced bashfulness.

Emma chuckled at the universe’s attempt to even the playing field. “Hold on,” she told him. She walked to the closet and pulled out a duffel bag. “Here. Some of my brother’s clothes are in here. You can borrow whatever you need. There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom cupboard, too. I’ll call the Super to unlock your place.”

“Don’t you just have another one of those I can borrow?” he asked, gesturing to her pajamas.

Emma looked down and laughed as she imagined Killian in a Jack Sparrow nightie. She walked out leaving him to change. After making the call to get Killian’s apartment unlocked, she grabbed herself another cup of coffee. When she turned around she almost spit out what she’d just sipped. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“You said anything, this lovely number was in the duffel. Not my color?”

“I am fairly certain that belongs to my sister-in-law,” Emma laughed out. “It does bring out the blue in your eyes though,” she flirted. He was a sight to see in Mary Margaret’s paisley halter top, and a pair of David’s sweat pants. “How did you even get that to fit?”

“I am very svelte, Swan. And it is very stretchy,” he said, pulling at the fabric. “I guess I’ll change,” he sighed, walking back to her bedroom. “I’ll just go with this old favorite,” he said as he reemerged… shirtless.

“You are such an exhibitionist,” she joked.

“You’ve no idea, love. Consider yourself lucky I dress at all when I come to your door.”

Her skin burned from the mental image that jumped into her mind. “Does that actually make me lucky?” She couldn’t believe the shameless way the words left her mouth.

He laughed heartily, both eyebrows reaching for the sky, a bit of pink coloring his cheeks again.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“I am starving, lass. I’ve barely eaten anything since I came to your door the other night.”

“No wonder you were so loopy last night,” she rolled her eyes. Going to the fridge she pulled out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix.

“Loopy or not, I meant everything I said last night.”

She turned around to look at him, to gauge the sincerity of his statement.  It did not surprise her to see that there was no sign of deception, no smirk upon his lips. Instead it was just him looking back, waiting for an honest response in return.

“Good.”

The smile that spread across his face, crinkling his eyes at the edges triggered her own happy smile. “You want to make the pancakes or the eggs and bacon?” As they cooked together Emma marveled again at how easy and natural it was to be around him.   

“Since you’re making confessions, how about you tell me which times were made up, and which were real?”

“And just what do I get in return if I spill my nefarious ways?” he asked, suggestively tapping his finger to his lips.

Emma scoffed, “You wish.”

“Aye, love, I do, but if we do not have an accord, perhaps just a confession of your own?”

Emma figured he would ask how she felt about him, and she had already decided she wanted to explore this thing further, so what did she have to lose. “Deal.”

Emma put her hand in Killian’s when he stuck it out to shake on their agreement.  “Alright Jones, ‘fess up.”

“The overdose on children’s Tylenol, fake, my best mate’s son’s medicine, left behind after I watched the little hellion. I didn’t realize that’s what I’d grabbed, I meant to grab at least an adult medicine.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at that. And the thought of him willing to watch a friend’s son warmed her heart.  

“Possible broken ribs, fake. Nothing more than an excuse to show up at your door shirtless. Prostate, definitely fake, and an unfortunate choice in illnesses on my part. Although you did put quite the image in my head with your offer to treat me, Swan.” He ducked his head chuckling softly.

“Well, regarding your prostate, I must confess, I did not say anything that is not true,” she grinned devilishly. She relished the way his head shot up, a tinge of blush coloring his cheeks again. “Oh, is your fever coming back Jones? You’re awfully flushed,” she teased him. Emma got up and began clearing away the dishes, and Killian followed suit.  

“You darling, are a little minx. Where was I before you distracted me? Ah, yes, next was my leg cramp after our jog, mostly real, sick with the flu, very real, lovesickness… the realest of them all. My turn!” He had rambled the last few illnesses off at lightning speed.

Emma whirled around in her place where she was depositing the dishes into the sink. “Wait, wait, wait. Mostly real? I felt the cramp. What do you me-”

“Uh-uh, love, my turn. I spilled, now it’s your turn,” Killian said as he sauntered up to her. Reaching around her with both hands, he placed his dishes inside the sink.

God, he smells good. It took sheer force of will to keep from snaking her arms around him to pull him closer, as he crowded her space. She couldn’t help but admire his chest, and torso, and those goddamn hip bones jutting out, calling to her to suck on them. She could feel her insides pulling as the desire to touch and maybe finally taste him coursed through her.

“Swan, where have you gone again, love?”

“I’m right here,” she said, sounding much breathier than she liked. “So what’s your question?” He was like an inferno, still in her space, and he’d rested both hands against the counter on either side of her. Surrounding her.

“What were you doing before I came to your door with my leg cramp?” The bastard had that smirk on his face, and that bottom lip was sucked into his mouth as he softly bit into it, his anticipation was palpable.

She felt dizzy, and hot, and breathless as she debated her choices.  Fuck, this was so not what she expected his question to be.  Her eyes darted nervously between his lips and the floor, and oh my god, what do I say? she panicked internally. “Okay, a kiss then?” she asked, hoping he was open to her negotiation. Before she could even process her next line of defense, his lips were on hers.  

After a moment’s hesitation she was kissing him back. She pulled him flush against her, and as he wrapped his arms around her waist, she threaded her fingers into his hair. She wanted to explore every inch, touch, rub, and hold everything Killian had on display.  There was no sound save for the meeting of their lips, until he moaned… that moan. A sizzling heat flashed through her, and she was pure driven desire. She opened her mouth to him and lightly flicked her tongue against his lips, before licking along the seam. She groaned her approval when he allowed her in. Finally, the last frontier, tasting Jones. And what a delectable treat it was. He lifted her to sit on the edge of the sink, and her legs automatically wrapped around him. It seemed he wanted to explore as much as she did, his hands were caressing her frame, then squeezing her thighs before settling under her nightie, massaging along the heated skin of her back.

Breaking apart to breathe, Emma couldn’t resist asking, “If you can massage this well, why did you need me to massage your leg cramp?”

“Do you really want to play Q&A with me again?” he smiled tauntingly, “I don’t lose.”

“I didn’t even have to try when I renegotiated the terms of our agreement just now,” she bragged as she let her hands wander the expanse of his chest.  

“Did you stop to consider that your reaction was enough to answer my question?” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and a cocky grin took over his ravished lips. “The kiss was an added bonus,” he said huskily, a burning intensity simmered in his eyes as he stared at her, daring her to disagree that he already knew her truth.

“Goddammit,” she muttered, burying her face in the crook of his neck, too mortified to maintain eye contact.

Taking his hands out of her shirt, he brought them both to her cheeks and lifted her head to look at him. “Open your eyes, love.” When she didn’t open her eyes, he kissed her delicately, before bringing his mouth to her ear. He sucked her lobe into his mouth and bit down softly, causing her to moan again. “Would it help, Emma, if I told you I was doing the same thing?” He chuckled at her sharp intake of breath, and the way her eyes popped open.

Emma nodded her head silently, her pupils dilated and she waited for him to continue.

“I couldn’t help myself, love. When I got into the shower all I kept imagining was you jogging, your breasts bouncing, and pert ass on display. Mmmm, the flush of your body, and your ragged breath. I wanted to be the reason you were hot and sweaty, and fuck I was so hard.”

Emma’s breath picked up as she listened to Killian, “Tell me more,” she whispered, flexing her legs around him, pulling him in just that little bit more.

“I knew you were a dirty little thing, Emma Swan,” he murmured, lifting her off the counter he walked them over to the couch.

Emma had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out when he picked her up, his firmness pressing against her in just the right spot.

Turning around, Killian backed up till his calves hit the couch, then he tapped her thighs, signaling her to put her feet down on the cushions. He sat down then pulled her on top of him to straddle his lap. “Do you want me to tell you how I took myself in hand, wishing it was you?”

The ache between Emma’s thighs was real, and having her legs spread was not helping, there was no friction to be had. Emma busied her hands at his chest, refusing her urge to relieve her own ache.

He was palming her ass, squeezing it, and god if he would just pull my ass to him a little bit I’d be able to grind against him. Fuck even her inner monologue sounded desperate. With what he already knew, she didn’t understand why she was feeling too shy to just rut against him like there was no tomorrow.

“How I couldn’t even keep quiet as I stroked myself to thoughts of you. Thoughts that brought me to completion disappointingly quickly.” He rested his forehead to hers, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper, his breathing heavy.

Fuck it, she thought as she pushed against him, taking her pleasure.

He grunted as she grinded her hot core over him. “How tense my body was as I came harder than I ever have. Is that what you want me to tell you, Emma?” his voice was deep, thick with want, and he practically growled her name. He grabbed onto her thighs guiding her over his cock.

“Yes,” she sighed, riding him a little faster. She leaned in and caught his lips with hers, sucking hard at his bottom lip. Dipping her tongue inside his mouth, she flicked it against his in tempo with her hips. The feel of his fingertips digging into her thighs was just on the pleasurable side of painful.

“Gods you are gorgeous. You were gorgeous that morning, mussed hair, and that little robe. I could smell your sweet arousal when you helped me to sit down, and that beautiful flush ran all the way down between your breasts as you leaned over me. I wanted to take you right there.”

“I would have let you,” she panted.

Killian threw his head back at her words, just the thought of being inside Emma was enough to propel him to the edge. “You’re going to make me come like this Emma. Like a fucking adolescent, and I don’t even care. Tell me you’re going to come for me.”

“Yes, Killian, for you,” she told him looking into his hooded eyes, “I came for you that morning too, I could hear you in the shower. When I heard you moaning all I could think about was you touching yourself as the hot water rolled down your body. Just the thought of you jerking off had me impossibly wet. When I heard you shout out, I came for you right then.”

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, “that’s it love, let go.”

And just like that Emma fell apart for him, his name on her lips just as it had been with every orgasm since the day she’d met him.

Hearing his name fall from her lips he couldn’t hold out a moment longer, he came hard, groaning out her name.

Emma slumped against him, “God, I needed that.”

“Killian will do,” he laughed.

“Shut up, Jones.” She sat up to kiss him again, “Thank you.”

“For what? That amazing orgasm?”

Emma slapped his chest, “For telling me about… you know,” she trailed off, looking down at her hands splayed over his chest.

“Emma, we just came together, fully clothed, while telling each other about masturbating to thoughts of each other. Why would you get shy now?” He brushed her hair back behind her ears, then tilted her head up. “There is no reason to ever be shy around me.” He slid his hand up from her chin, smoothing his thumb over her cheek, then he pulled her in for another kiss.

Listening to him talk so casually about such intimate things Emma couldn’t help but be enamored. “When you put it that way, yes, it would be pretty stupid for me to be shy about anything. I do have a question though.”

“Ask away, love.”

“How did you fake that cramp? I saw it, I felt it.”

It was Killian’s turn to be embarrassed, as his hand shot up behind his ear and he grinned nervously.

“Oh, look who’s shy now,” she teased.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, “the cramp was real darling. My body tensed up so hard when I came that I actually gave myself a charlie horse.”

Emma giggled, a light cheery thing as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He was so right, with what they’d said and done today there wasn’t any reason to ever be embarrassed, about anything. Standing up she held her hand out to him and dragged him off the couch and then down the hall.  Once they were in her bedroom she turned to face him and grabbed both his hands in hers. “In our endeavor to never be embarrassed, and be comfortable and proud about our feelings, I really want to feel you inside me,” she practically purred.

Killian’s response was physical as he hauled her flush against him, wrapping their joined hands behind her back, he kissed her soundly.

The way he pinned her hands behind her back and bucked his hips had her desperate. “Someone’s ready to go,” she murmured, feeling his length against her belly.

“I am always hard for you Emma,” he told her between kisses.

“Maybe I can help you with that.” She pulled her hands from his hold and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants letting them drop to the floor. Stepping back to admire the full picture, she hummed appreciatively at the sight before her, “I see now my fantasies pale in comparison.” His hair was still awry from where she’d raked her fingers through it, giving it a roguish ‘just been ravished’ look. His shoulders were broad, framing a toned torso; as she followed his happy trail she noticed that even his belly button was cute, in fact she wanted to kiss every inch of his taut belly.

“I know I am devilishly handsome, but I am getting quite lonely waiting for you to finish your perusal of my goods. Perhaps it’s my turn?”

Emma raised both hands in the air, giving Killian easy access to strip her bare. “Peruse away.”

Killian lowered her hands placing one on each of his shoulders, “Perhaps I wish to savor the moment as well, love.” Placing his hands on her hips he trailed them up each side of her lean frame. He watched her nipples pebble through her thin nightie as his thumbs stroked the underside of her breasts. Each time he passed his thumbs over her he reached a little higher, teasing her, making her crave the touch she knew was coming. When he finally grazed her nipples she whimpered at the sensation causing his cock to jerk. “I do like it when you make noise,” he told her.

Emma slid her hands down his chest and copied his motions running her thumbs across his nipples, “Does that feel good for a man?” she asked.

“Aye, what you’re doing feels very good,” he told her.

“I need more, Killian, please,” she whispered, then she leaned forward to kiss him, plunging her tongue into his mouth, while continuing to play with his nipples. She could feel new wetness coating her panties as he groaned into her mouth.

“You’re making it difficult for me to take my time, darling.”

“Then don’t.” She reached for his hand and placed it between her thighs, “See what you do to me?”

“You are soaked,” he breathed out as he pressed his hand to her panty covered core. Her answering cry spurred him to action. Grabbing the hem of her nightie he pulled it up and over her head in one fluid motion. “Bloody hell, lass,” he murmured as he took all of her in. He led her to the bed where he laid her out, and climbed over her. He kissed her chastely on the lips, “I’ll be right back.”

“What, where are you going?” she half whined.

Killian kissed a trail along her jaw, and down her throat, stopping to suck on her pulse point.

Emma turned her head to the side for him as he worried her flesh with his teeth. His mouth was magic, sending pulses of heat straight to her core. He continued to move down her body, and when he finally reached her breasts, her nipples were straining for his touch. He suckled one, the warmth and wetness of his mouth making Emma cry out, while he rolled her other expertly between his thumb and middle finger. She held his head to her, not wanting him to release her, but she could feel her arousal coating her thighs, and she couldn’t stand it anymore, she needed to be touched. Reaching her hand down she spread her folds with her fingers and slid her middle finger through her wetness, then ran it back up to her clit. She drew slow circles not needing to get off, just needing a soothing touch. She moaned as the sensation of each of her pleasure points being loved took over her body.

Killian looked up to watch Emma when he heard her, she was a vision, eyes closed, lips parted and panting as she pleasured herself. “As much as I love the sight of you spreading those swollen folds, I want to be the one to take care of you right now.”

Emma jumped, not expecting to hear his voice. She opened her eyes looking a bit chagrined, “I told you I need you,” she told him, still rubbing herself gently.

He pulled her hand to his mouth, sucking her middle finger into his mouth and humming appreciatively. “I have dreamed of tasting you,” he told her as he settled his shoulders between her thighs. Splaying her legs wide, he spread her folds and licked along her core.

“Oh, thank you,” Emma gasped. She placed her hand on the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tried not to buck too forcefully or push too hard. She didn’t want to smother the poor guy before she’d even experienced his glorious dick, which by all accounts was in need of her worship, if his hips rutting into her mattress were any indication. When she felt his finger circling her entrance she shamelessly canted her hips.

He chuckled at her impatience, then quickly pushed into her, not wanting to tease her too much. He paused when he felt her adjusting to just his digit. He clamped his eyes shut, willing himself to stay calm, because if she felt this tight right now, he couldn’t even fathom how amazing she would feel squeezing his cock. Adding a second finger he picked up his ministrations if for no other reason than his now burning hot desire to bury himself in her balls deep. He pumped his fingers up into her making sure to hit that spot that had her panting praises, all the while steadily caressing her clit with his tongue. He could tell she was getting close as her grip tightened in his hair.

Emma pinched at her nipples with her free hand while she clutched at his hair with the other. She couldn’t help the sounds that she was making, he had her on the edge of bliss. He pulled her right over the edge when he covered her clit with his mouth and sucked with such precision she saw stars. Or maybe it was just those little white spots you see in your vision when you start to black out. Either way it was intense and she was having a hard time catching her breath.

Killian crawled back up to her looking into her dazed eyes, “Told you I’d be right back, darling.” Leaning down he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, pulling on it. He growled when she attacked, plunging her tongue deep inside his mouth, like she couldn’t get enough of him.

Emma reached around him and grabbed his ass squeezing it, then pushing him down to her center, she guided his shaft through her folds, moaning at the feel of his tip as it passed over her clit. She snaked one hand down between them and gripped him in her warm hand, “Fuck, I can’t wait to feel you Killian.”  

Killian pumped into her hand savoring the wet glide now that she’d coated his cock. “Show me where you want to feel me, love.”

“Right here,” she whispered, lining him up.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Probably for as long as I have. Since I met you,” she told him unabashedly.

He chuckled at her candor, “Aye, you do know then.” He slowly pushed into her just his tip, marveling at her tightness. Killian held back when he heard her hiss, “Does it hurt?”

“Only in the best way.”

Resting his forehead to hers he began to slide in again, “You are so warm, and wet, and fucking tight, gods you are perfect.”

Emma cried out as he drove deeper than she’d ever felt, she reveled in the stretch as she adjusted to his size. Her temporary discomfort subsided as he kissed her through it, and continued to attend to her breasts. Resuming her grip on his ass, she urged him to move. “Show me what you’ve got, Jones.”

His resolve to take things slowly slipped a bit when she prodded him. Pulling out almost completely he lovingly drove home again, testing her readiness. She didn’t wince or tense up this time, and he smiled at her devilishly. He pulled her legs up higher around his waist, then leaned forward and pushed her hair back from her forehead, he wanted to see every expression as he made love to her for the first time.  

Emma praised the impossibly long stroke of each pass as he more than filled her up, telling him how good he felt. She’d never had someone watch her, look into her eyes, the intensity sent a chill through her body. She clutched his biceps as they rolled and flexed with his every thrust. “Harder.” He grunted as he slammed home, grinding against her each time he was fully sheathed. “Yes, just like that, Killian,” she gasped.

The slap of skin, the wet sounds of flesh on flesh, and their small pants, and moans were all that surrounded them. They focused on giving and taking their pleasure and nothing else. He pumped into her harder and faster, willing her to climb that hill with him again. “Fuck Killian, I’m gonna come again. Don’t stop.”

“Yes Emma, let me feel you come all over my cock,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

His words were her undoing, her stomach tensed and her thighs constricted around his waist holding him to her as she worked her clit against him a final time.  The spark of all consuming release that had been building flared hot as quiver after quiver of ecstasy stole through her body. Emma didn’t recognize the low moan spilling from her lips as her body experienced the deepest completion she’d ever been brought to.

The constriction he felt wrapping around his cock was more than he could take, he fucked into her, torn between wanting to draw out this rapture and needing gratification.  

“Come, Killian,” she whispered hoarsely. She threaded one hand into the hair on his chest, and placed the other on his cheek. She watched the pleasure take over his face, meeting him thrust for thrust, wanting to give as good as she’d gotten.

Those two little words set him off, he thrust his hips powerfully, burying deep into her as his release shook his body. “Seven fucking Hells, lass, that was…” he trailed off, unable to verbalize a word worthy enough of the orgasm he’d just had.  He rested his head against her chest, trying to catch his breath. He tried to keep some of his weight off of her, not wanting to crush her, but he was reluctant to move from the haven of her thighs.

“Yeah it was,” she breathed out, knowing exactly what he meant. She cradled his head between her breasts and pushed his matted hair from his forehead. “Lay,” she told him. She inhaled sharply when their combined release spilled from within her as he pulled out, sending a late jolt of pleasure through her lower belly.

Killian acquiesced laying against her, indulging in their post-coital bliss, together. It was not lost on him that she was holding him, taking care of him as she had every time he’d come to her for help, be it real or made up. “Fuck,” he muttered, pushing up and looking at her. “I’m so sorry, love. How could I be so careless.”

Emma pushed herself up on her elbows, clueless as to his sudden mood swing. “What is it?”

“I didn’t... I didn’t use a condom. I’m so sorry, Emma.”

“Killian calm down,” she said, gently running a hand through his hair. She grabbed his arm and wrapped her leg around his to roll him to his back, then straddled his waist. “Listen, I’m on the pill, and I trust you. Plus, I only have latex condoms, and I really don’t want your dick falling off. I can just imagine you at my door crying about penile anaphylactic shock.” She burst out laughing at the offended look on his face. “It’s okay Jones, I’ll take care of you no matter what fake illness you bring to my door.”

“First off, I have never come up with anything that asinine, Swan. And secondly,” he continued no longer sounding insulted, “I have another confession.”

“Oh yeah, and what is that?”

“I’m not allergic to latex.”

“You prick! I knew that was just a line. So long as I’m the only girl you’ve ever used it on, I’ll let it go.”

“Aye, love, I’ve never used that line on anyone else. I just wanted to feel your skin on mine while you massaged me, especially after smelling your heavenly scent that morning.”

Emma leaned down and rubbed her nose to his, “So sweet and dirty all at the same time, I like it.”

Killian looked into her eyes, “Dr. Swan, I do seem to have one more issue,” he said huskily, squeezing her behind.

She smiled at him sweetly, cocking her head, “Tell me all about it,” she murmured.

“Well doctor, I seem to have some swelling, can you help?”

Still straddling his hips, she squeezed her thighs around him playfully. “Where is this swelling?”

Killian canted his hips up and his hardened cock poked her backside.

She chuckled, “Lucky for you I know just the cure.” Pinning his hands above his head and sliding down his body just a little, Emma Swan set about curing her ailing neighbor once more.

*~♥~*

“You know love, it is my turn to ask you a question again,” he mentioned as they sat eating chicken noodle soup.

“I don’t know if I can handle anymore Q&A.”

“I promise darling, this is a simple yes or no question.”

Emma nodded her head for him to go ahead and ask.

“Would you allow me to take you out on a proper date, Emma Swan?”

She laughed loudly, a truly happy laughter. “It’s about fucking time! That’s more along the lines of what I thought you were going to ask the first time.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked with more boyish hope than swagger in his voice.

“Of course! I’m in this for the long haul,” she told him. She felt as if a weight had been lifted as she took that leap of faith.

“Nice to have you along for the ride, Swan,” he winked at her, “the long haul will be so much more fulfilling to traverse with you.

Emma blushed at the sweetness in his words. “Take me to dinner, Jones, I want to hear all about why you thought faking illnesses was a better approach than just talking to me.”

End

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