#walking to drop my brother at 8am

[astral-from-afar]

It is -4 degrees this morning I am dying rn

[leconcombrerit]

Oh non, je suis vraiment désolé de l'apprendre...

Pourvu qu'elle se rétablisse vite...

Emergency hugs 🫂🫂🫂🫂

Merci... Elle méritait vraiment pas ça, surtout en ce moment...

Switching to English for the follow up cause it's absolutely unbelievable, it makes me sick to my stomach.

She was left crying in pain in the ER hallway for four hours without any care or pain killers (pretty standard mind you). Then she was diagnosed with a fracture (insert a shocked pikachu face) and had surgery scheduled for the next morning. Now credit where credit is due, they gave her paracetamol 500. She was still sobbing when my brother had her on the phone at 8AM.

And now to the actually fun part that's not just how hospitals work.

The doctor told her that she'd be walking tomorrow after the surgery, pain or no pain. In these words. While she was sobbing. You can say a lot of things about my mother, but not that she's not brave and stubborn in the face of pain. So that man literally comes up to a woman who's going through impossible suffering while just existing in her bed and threatens her.

But ! There's even better !

They also told her that she'd be out by Saturday evening (remember she was admitted on Thursday, surgery on Friday). But my mother lives in a building, fifth floor, NO LIFT. No lift. Fifth floor. Broken hip. The ambulance can drop her at her address and what, leave her to sleep outside cause she can't climb those stairs? Help her upstairs and leave her locked there, no balcony, no fresh air, no groceries (her kind neighbour volunteered for the latter, but still)? She can't live with us either, having both her and my dad in the same general location would have two deads four injured.

I swear to god this hospital has the worst reputation for a reason. People die there, no kidding. They failed to diagnose my brother's appendicitis when he was 17, almost died. My mother's shattered shoulder, almost died. Both saved not by this hospital's staff, but by forcefully getting out and begging another one to check them in.

Ahahahaha and that time there was a very bad disease in their canalisations so no one could shower there and it lasted for months. Or the time they didn't properly clean a family friend's hand before stitching it even though he'd been bitten by a cow and it got infected, and they failed to clean it properly again when he came back. No but seriously I could go on forever.

She can't even keep her dog. He's pulling too hard on the leash. He's not used to cats, so it's unsure whether we can keep him. I don't want to send him back to the shelter. It would break my mom's heart even more.

[704ekhoslatta]

I’m laying in bed in my underwear

Smoking cannabis oil

It’s 8am and I haven’t slept

I wish I made it to class

I wished for so many things

The esoteric cocaine dealer who has become something in between a brother and a love interest

Said to me

to stop wishing

To ask

That the universe put what I’m seeking into the palm of my hand

And if god wills

I will acquire what I strive for

I smoke hash while I pray

I lay here

In this world

Unbound by time

Laying silently next to all those who’ve shared this quiet moment with me

A joy that they’ve stood right where I stand

Standing like a baby faun

So feminine and euphoric

They’ve stood on this hilltop

And felt passion and decay

Like a gaunt mujahedeen soldier

Like maybe the emptiness we feel right now

About a year ago today

I dropped to my knees in a field around 30 minutes outside of Charlotte

And I found god

I was told it was better to meet god alone

So I did

I cried

Yes, I cried

I learned I was free so long as I strived to be

And that I could find solace in the glimmer of another

In their eyes

I could find a little sliver of god

It’s now 9:00am

I won’t sleep tonight

I’m too busy manifesting the angelic

While I lay in bed

Wondering if I should masturbate

Or work

Or go to sleep

In a blue light cocoon of my own creation

I pray

For the glimmer in my eyes to shine brighter than ever today

To provide art to the world

To do right by myself and everyone I love in this world

I pray,

For nicotine

Good food

Art

And hashish

Beautiful garments

Jewelry

For the ulta employees to let me walk out with a full YSL tester bottle just one last time without calling the cops

<333

[i-spaced-sorry]

Coffee shop meet cute

Jay x Hailey x Mouse

A/N: Blame it being close to Valentines day and working at a coffee shop and sitting and waiting for my laundry to be done for this being written

It was 6:30am and Jay was trudging into work exhausted beyond belief. The night before had been spent fighting with his brother on if their dad was a homophobic asshole like Jay had evidence he was.

"Jay, bro, you look like shit!" Called Al, the shift lead opening.

"I feel it too" he retorted back while putting on his apron.

Al looked at the DCR and noticed that Adam had called off once again.

"So, Adam called off. With you looking like shit, do you want to just handle dialing in the expresso and getting ice? I can handle the cold brew and brew machine."

"Sure! We can tag team food whenever that gets here too!" Yawned Jay while grabbing what he would need for dialing in.

8am rolled by real fast and pretty soon the first wave of zombie like customers were walking in ready to get a cup of jo and start the day!

Jay was placed at register because he was the most perky post cup of coffee

"Good morning! What can I get started for you?" He asked as a man walked up to the counter. He seemed very fidgety and uncertain about being at the coffee shop all together.

"Do you guys have tea? For the next 30 days I'm trying to not drink coffee" the man asked

"Yea! We have chai, matcha, herbal tea, and some other tea packets you can choose from" replied Jay

The man fidgeted with the ends of his collared shirt while muling over his options. "I think I'll get a chai tea latte with uh soy milk? Yes soy milk" he finally said

"One chai latte with soy! Anything else?" Exclaimed Jay!

The man just shook his head

"Can I get a name for the order?" Jay asked when he finished ringing up the order.

"Mouse" was all the man responded with.

Once Mouse walked away, Jay just stood there thinking to himself, what a peculiar name for a peculiar person.

//

The next morning Jay worked, once again he was put on register. Jay realized it wasn't because he was perky after a cup of coffee, it was because he could put on the best customer service voice before 9am.

Once again the first wave of zombies came rolling through, a fidgety man walked up.

"What can I get for you" exclaimed Jay

"Uh a chai latte with soy please" mumbled the man while pulling his sleeves past his hands.

"For sure!" Jay exclaimed while ringing it up.

"What's the name for the order?" He asked

"Mouse" the man stated and quickly walked away.

Jay threw the receipt out and thought, "what makes that man so fidgety and why do I feel so excited when he comes in"

//

The little dance Jay and Mouse were doing had been going on for a little over two weeks now. It has gotten to a point where Mouse didn't even need to say his name or order, Jay just knew it of memory! Until one morning.

"Chai latte with soy, right?" Smiled Jay when Mouse walked up to the counter.

Mouse gave a shy smile and replied, "that and triple shot hot Americano"

Jay froze while putting the order in, "what happened to no coffee for 30 days?"

Mouse fidgeted with his sleeves and laughed, "oh it's still happening, the triple shot is for someone else"

Jay could feel his heart drop in the pit of his stomach at that response.

He faultered for less than a second before recovering and finishing the order, "alright! One chai latte with soy for Mouse and one triple shot Americano for someone else" he handed over the receipt and smiled.

The second Mouse walked away his smile fell and he started wondering why it bothered him so much that Mouse was getting coffee for someone else.

"Dude, it's obvious. You like him" stated Adam while clapping Jay on the back. Jay hadn't realized that Adam had been watching the whole interaction until he spoke up.

//

Mouse frequented the coffee shop my most mornings only occasionally slipping in the triple shot Americano. Finally one day Jay got to meet the "someone else" that Mouse often spoke of.

"Mouse! Your usual?" Asked Jay when Mouse stepped up to the counter.

Smiling, Mouse replied, "yea, and -

"a triple shot Americano" stated a female who stepped beside Mouse.

While Jay rang the drinks up, the female spoke, "you were right Mouse, it is cute the way his customer service high pitched voice gets more high pitched when he is talking to you"

Jay froze, "Mouse talks about him?" His inner dialogue was going rampant with this knowledge

"Ask him" she said with enough conviction that Mouse knew he had to

"Uh, hey I was wondering what you were doing after work today" stuttered out Mouse while rubbing behind his neck with his hand.

Jay froze for the second time that morning.

"Nothing, why?"

"Wanna get drinks with us?" The female asked.

"I wouldn't want to third wheel" replied Jay, very confused on why this couple was asking him to third wheel with them.

"Actually, we are polyamerious and would love to date you if you want to" replied Mouse shyly.

"Uh" Jay was stunned with what he was hearing!

"Dude! Say yes!" Exclaimed Adam and Al who were standing off in the corner watching the interaction.

"Sure!" Stated Jay

"Cool! I'm Hailey by the way, we can meet at Molly's Bar at say 6?"

"See you then" and with that the two walked off and picked up there drinks and were out the door.

[uniquepayne315]

THE WILL (PART 3)

 Standing outside of Stein Hospital I took a deep breath as I replayed the last couple of hours. My watch read 8am and I knew that by now Diane would be getting the twins ready for school. Grabbing my cellphone out of my pocket I went to call Diane when my partner called me. O'Brian here what's up Mercer? What's up Mercer? Detective Robin Mercer interrupted? Let's see O'Brian, you said that you would meet me at the office this morning, and well I am here and not unless your invisible you are not. Shit Robin I am sorry I got held up here at the house, I'm on my way okay responded O'Brian. Fine, but at least bring coffee with you Mercer said, as she hung up the phone. Exhaling loudly, O'Brian shook off his phone call with his partner and dialed his wife's number again. Her phone went straight to voicemail as O'Brian headed back towards his car. After a train ride and a two block walk back to his car Detective O'Brian was worn out from the night he had just encountered.

Detective Robin Mercer hung up the phone frustrated but determined to get to work. Shuffling through the files piled high on her desk, Robin looked through the latest crime scene photos of the latest victim. Are those rose petals in the background she said out loud to herself. Just as she said this O'Brian walked towards her juggling two cups of coffee and a box of what she hoped were jelly donuts. Grabbing the box out of his hand and biting into a donut, Robin motioned for her coffee. Right, to the point I see said O'Brian as he grabbed a chocolate donut for himself. Smiling slightly, Robin showed O'Brian the picture that she was looking at moments ago. O'Brian tell me what you see asked Mercer? Studying the picture O'Brian looked at the victim in the photo. She was dressed in a similar dress that Megan was wearing earlier that morning, but hers was covered in dirt and her wig was thrown beside her covered in blood. Moving on from the victim O'Brian spotted what looked like white rose petals stuck to the arm of the victim. Are those rose petals O'Brian asked Mercer? Yes, I believe they are answered Mercer before biting into another donut. Well, Robin that's why I wanted you to meet me here this morning O'Brian replied. I received some information last night from Megan. Seriously O'Brian more prostitution informants asked Mercer as she shook her head. Ignoring his partner O'Brian continued. There is this guy, he hangs around Junction Station and the girls call him the Wrangler. He was there on behalf of his brother last night and guess what he was handing out. Hopefully condoms Robin joked. No O'Brian said. White roses and according to Megan every woman who received a rose didn't show up for her shift last night. Well, it sounds like he gave them a better offer Robin said, and besides the rose pedals in the picture are red. Yes, that is true responded O'Brian as he ran his fingers through his beard. But don't you think we should still check it out. Look at how this woman is dressed Mercer; tell me she doesn't look like a working girl asked O'Brian? She does and maybe we should check it out but first I want to question Megan a little further, and alone demanded Mercer. The history you two share does not help here. Okay but we need to go to Stein Hospital for that. What do you mean why are we going their asked Mercer grabbing her jacket? That is where I dropped Megan off this morning O'Brian responded walking ahead of his partner.

[thraveenperera]

Drake - 8AM in Charlotte - For All The Dogs (2023)

In God's hands (Conductor)

Be grateful

That He was there

Glory (Yeah)

I'm out here on the road

You can hear it in the voice (Glory)

Still get this shit off, though

Look

The money speakin' for itself, I call it fortune-tell

Fire top from a bitch that work at corporate sales

Chinchilla ushanka, we skiin' out in Courchevel

Breakin' news, they tried to kill him, but the boy prevails

I leave for tour and my n****s fuckin' go to jail

Preachin' to the dogs 'bout wantin' more for themselves

It's weighin' heavy on my moral scale

Knowin' they gon' sell another citizen 'caine, they think they Orson Welles

Walk in Chanel, they like, "How the fuck you need more Chanel?"

I got these cats tuckin' tails on fourth-quarter sales

I'm used to seein' tears drop over enormous meals

The restaurant clears out, faint echoes of Lauryn Hill

I say, "We gotta talk about us," I feel like Jordan Peele

Could tell I'm gettin' under your skin like a orange peel

'Cause your words don't match your actions like a foreign film

And now it's silence in the Lamb' like the horror film

Things get quiet after me statin' the obvious

Things get kinky after fifteen years of dominance

That October sky is lookin' ominous

The money is autonomous

Shout' to Oliver North, he out in Rome doin' Toronto shit

And Jeremiah the watchdog, you n****s know what time it is

I'm in and out of Houston Hobby so much, I'm a hobbyist

Hoes waitin' on Cench in the lobby, that boy a lobbyist

Savage got a green card straight out of the consulate

Where I go, you go, brother, we Yugoslavian

Formal is the dress code, dawg, so many checks owed

I feel Czechoslovakian, n****, what the fuck?

Nah, I'm movin' different right now, for real, like

I feel like if Mike switched out the glove for the pen, like

This shit just too enticing right now, you know?

Look

Diamonds do the silly dance, I raise up the wine glass

Metal detectors beepin' and security bypass

The numbers goin' up, someone pull up the line graph

The days are goin' by, it's like I'm livin' in time-lapse

Been talkin' to Adel like he majored in finance

Shania Twain, notepad, I'm makin' it line-dance

You tryna rob me, and it's gon' feel like you sittin' at your favorite restaurant 'cause, n****, that's where you dyin' at

Mob ties, I swear we like a bitch with fine sisters and fine cousins, the family all bad

I'm preachin' to the dawgs about cleanin' they images

I swear I'm like a young T.D. Jakes to my menaces

Long-kiss goodnight, PDA for my nemesis

Three hunnid acres, PGA on the premises

That's what's really brackin' like this verse in parentheses

I'm givin' hits to n****s on some, don't even mention it

Like, don't even worry about it, like

You can hit me back whenever, or

Or don't, you know?

It is what it is, I guess

Yeah, hm

Look

You young boys take some of that money and set it aside

Not havin' enough to pay your tax is a federal crime

You n****s obsessed with me, and it's not on no hetero vibe

Handle beef so quiet, you think that I'm lettin' it slide

Next thing you know, we tip-toein' past enemy lines

Diss me so long ago, we making your memories fly

Conspiracy theories start floatin' 'round like the Kennedy guy

I'll prolly hold a grudge against you guys 'til I'm seventy-five

Ayy, n****s lyin' for a livin', I couldn't relate

We all gotta lay in the bed we make, but that couldn't be Drake

You forced a lot of fake love when real ones stood in your face

That's why you got deserted by your n****s like puddin' and cake

I got you on camera bowin' down, but the footage is safe

Thank God, another USB to put in the safe

Thank God, at the crib, dippin' my foot in the lake

I swear that y'all turned me into the villain, I couldn't escape

Not sayin' I'm the best at what I do

I'm just sayin' that it's me versus whoever wanna lose

Pick any one of the Who's Whos, I got .22s for new crews

R.I.P. to the DJ from Houston, we loose screws

Helicopters, cop lights, and news crews

N****s steady cryin' to my daddy, well, boo-hoo

You prolly heard a lot about the boy, well, true, true, haha

(In God's hands) Yeah

(Be grateful)

(That He was there)

[rainsmediaradio]

Drake - 8AM in Charlotte Lyrics

Drake - 8AM in Charlotte Lyrics Intro In God's hands (Conductor) Be grateful That He was there Glory (Yeah) I'm out here on the road You can hear it in the voice (Glory) Still get this shit off, though Look Verse 1 The money speakin' for itself, I call it fortune-tell Fire top from a bitch that work at corporate sales Chinchilla ushanka, we skiin' out in Courchevel Breakin' news, they tried to kill him, but the boy prevails I leave for tour and my niggas fuckin' go to jail Preachin' to the dogs 'bout wantin' more for themselves It's weighin' heavy on my moral scale Knowin' they gon' sell another citizen 'caine, they think they Orson Welles Walk in Chanel, they like, "How the fuck you need more Chanel?" I got these cats tuckin' tails on fourth-quarter sales I'm used to seein' tears drop over enormous meals The restaurant clears out, faint echoes of Lauryn Hill I say, "We gotta talk about us," I feel like Jordan Peele Could tell I'm gettin' under your skin like a orange peel 'Cause your words don't match your actions like a foreign film And now it's silence in the Lamb' like the horror film Things get quiet after me statin' the obvious Things get kinky after fifteen years of dominance That October sky is lookin' ominous The money is autonomous Shout' to Oliver North, he out in Rome doin' Toronto shit And Jeremiah the watchdog, you niggas know what time it is I'm in and out of Houston Hobby so much, I'm a hobbyist Hoes waitin' on Cench in the lobby, that boy a lobbyist Savage got a green card straight out of the consulate Where I go, you go, brother, we Yugoslavian Formal is the dress code, dawg, so many checks owed I feel Czechoslovakian, nigga, what the fuck? Interlude Nah, I'm movin' different right now, for real, like I feel like if Mike switched out the glove for the pen, like This shit just too enticing right now, you know? Look Verse 2 Diamonds do the silly dance, I raise up the wine glass Metal detectors beepin' and security bypass The numbers goin' up, someone pull up the line graph The days are goin' by, it's like I'm livin' in time-lapse Been talkin' to Adel like he majored in finance Shania Twain, notepad, I'm makin' it line-dance You tryna rob me, and it's gon' feel like you sittin' at your favorite restaurant 'cause, nigga, that's where you dyin' at Mob ties, I swear we like a bitch with fine sisters and fine cousins, the family all bad I'm preachin' to the dawgs about cleanin' they images I swear I'm like a young T.D. Jakes to my menaces Long-kiss goodnight, PDA for my nemesis Three hunnid acres, PGA on the premises That's what's really brackin' like this verse in parentheses I'm givin' hits to niggas on some, don't even mention it Interlude Like, don't even worry about it, like You can hit me back whenever, or Or don't, you know? It is what it is, I guess Yeah, hm Look Verse 3 You young boys take some of that money and set it aside Not havin' enough to pay your tax is a federal crime You niggas obsessed with me, and it's not on no hetero vibe Handle beef so quiet, you think that I'm lettin' it slide Next thing you know, we tip-toein' past enemy lines Diss me so long ago, we making your memories fly Conspiracy theories start floatin' 'round like the Kennedy guy I'll prolly hold a grudge against you guys 'til I'm seventy-five Ayy, niggas lyin' for a livin', I couldn't relate We all gotta lay in the bed we make, but that couldn't be Drake You forced a lot of fake love when real ones stood in your face That's why you got deserted by your niggas like puddin' and cake I got you on camera bowin' down, but the footage is safe Thank God, another USB to put in the safe Thank God, at the crib, dippin' my foot in the lake I swear that y'all turned me into the villain, I couldn't escape Not sayin' I'm the best at what I do I'm just sayin' that it's me versus whoever wanna lose Pick any one of the Who's Whos, I got .22s for new crews R.I.P. to the DJ from Houston, we loose screws Helicopters, cop lights, and news crews Niggas steady cryin' to my daddy, well, boo-hoo You prolly heard a lot about the boy, well, true, true, haha Outro (In God's hands) Yeah (Be grateful) (That He was there) Read the full article

[monkeyapemagic]

Lagoon N Dry Lands

Saturday I literally wake up to Bean asking me if I wanted to go up north an hour and a half away from Hollywood I said fuck it this maricón Proceeds to rush me while I get prepared for an Hour ride so I rush to the suv and 4 niggas in that bitch, it’s 8am I ate nothing, phone on 30% and I have a Ps portable with an old LBP save on it because I couldn’t find my switch case so we’re on the ride then Chris decides we have a change of plans so we go PASS our set location to Port Saint Lucie (Suburban as fuck by the fucking way) and pick up this little white nigga so then we go to the Lake or lagoon whatever the fuck kind of body of water it is and chill there at first the water was cold but started to warm up by 11 morning so we decided to go into the even larger part of the Lagoon Lake whatever the fuck and niggas are scared cause the water is getting deeper so me and Chris the tallest niggas there test the waters and once I saw Chris going down I said “let’s maneuver our way around the deep” so we did but the price was stepping in dodo texture mud so we make to the set location now it’s time to go back ALL OF SUDDEN I can’t walk on the mud no more and the water is at my fucking shoulders so nigga I’m not gonna lie, I doggy paddled like a motherfucka until I felt shallow waters.

I also wanna back track and tell you guys you walked to the beach near the Lagoon and nigga the sand was hottt I wish I got pictures but my phone was in Johnny’s bag there was so much birds also another reason why I wanted to leave that motherfucking Lagoon was there was turtles and baby crabs…

AFTER that horrible motherfucking Lagoon, we go to a wildlife park with Divided woods and we  barbecued and chill and then after got ice cream went into the car we went on to a fucking wooden tower, Chris is scared of heights LMAOOO so I’m making corny plane jokes and pissing him off then after we all went into the car, dropped Chris’s brother off then went back to good ole 954. The trip was very cool and nice I hope there’s more to come.

P.S this nigga Jonathan and E was talking about girls eatin their ass for 20 BUCKS, freaky ass fuckboys

LAGOON

WILDERNESS

Towerz

Road

10.05.23 11:35pm

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Modern Au Saedii and Ty’s first meeting?

excuse any formatting errors in the next couple of weeks, my laptop is getting fixed so I'm working off my desktop, which I normally reserve for school and work.

~~

Tyler and Kal's apartment wasn't usually the home of strange women.

In fact, scratch not usually, change to never. There were never women int heir apartment that Tyler didn't know. Mostly because Kal was an only-Auri type of guy and Tyler wasn't one to give into his vices (he's convinced his sister got all of those genes). The only women ever in the apartment were Auri, Scarlett and Zila. Well, and Cat, once upon a time before their brutal breakup.

And yet, when Tyler got out of the shower one afternoon, there was a women he'd never met sitting on his couch, cleaning her black-painted nails. She didn't even seem to look up when he entered the room.

Which, if he was breaking in somewhere, he would at least dignify the person who owned the place with some recognition. Maybe that's just him, though.

But he wasn't gonna talk first. So instead, he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, towelling off his hair and waiting for her to notice him.

He looked away when the front door opens and Kal walks in, sees the strange woman, turns to Tyler who shrugs, and then turns back to the woman, placing the bag of groceries on the ground.

"Saedii?" he asks and the woman finally turns to Kal and stands from the couch.

"Kaliis," she says back and Tyler snorts at Kal's full name. Kal doesn't notice, already across the room and wrapping his arms around Saedii, who lets Kal hug her awkwardly.

"You know her?" Tyler asks and the pair pull apart. Saedii turns to him and Tyler finally sees the purple eyes that she shares with Kal.

"Same mum and asshole of a sperm donor," she says. Tyler nods and she turns away from him.

"Anyway, you told me to come see you when I got here. See ya around Kaliis," she says, before picking up a duffle bag from beside the couch. She walks to and swings the door back open, salutes them and calls "you too, Tyler Jones."

Tyler turns back to Kal.

"Why does your sister know my name?" Kal shakes his head and picks his groceries back up.

"You don't wanna know."

~

Honestly, he really should have listened to Scarlett when she told him 8am classes were quote unquote "ass". He liked his history of conflict class, but classes were less fun when no one was awake to participate.

He was prepping his materials on his little folding desk, when someone dropped down into the seat beside him. He didn't pay them any mind until a voice like honey spoke.

"Tyler Jones," he looked up to come eye to eye with none other than Saedii Gilwraeth.

"Gilwraeth. One might think you're stalking me, y'know?" he jokes and she just raises an eyebrow and smiles. He almost wonders what is in the Gilwraeth gene pool that both siblings have such pleasing smiles.

"Hm, no the stalking was done when you first moved in with Kaliis. Can't have my little brother around delinquents," she says, before turning away to reach into her bag and pull out a laptop.

"Is that how you know my name?" He asks and she hums, continuing to set up.

"Among other things," she says turning back to him.

"Oh well that's not fair, I know nothing about you," he says and she just chuckles and then gestures to the front, where the lecture was starting.

For once, he doesn't listen to his lecture, focussing instead on the enigma sitting next to him. She is objectively gorgeous, equally sharp edged and soft and Tyler has always been a fan of puzzles.

Eventually he makes a decision and as quietly as he can, tears a page out of his notebook and writes her a note before sliding it towards her.

I imagine you already know my number, only fair I get yours.

Saedii considers it, pulling it towards her and snorting when she registers the words written. She pulls the slip onto her desk and writes something.

As the lecturer begins their closing statements, she slid the paper back across his desk.

Fortune favours the bold.

And underneath, her phone number.

The lights in the hall turn on and he turns to say something to Saedii, only to find the seat next to him deserted, like she'd never been there at all.

~~

byee

[jackie-shitposts]

I Thought Thieves Love Jules!

Carmen strolled out of the elevator, feeling pretty beat after her workout with Shadowsan. Not that she would ever admit that- she had wanted to keep going, but it had only been two days since she got electrocuted in Egypt, so Shadowsan made her cut her workout short while he continued. Carmen sauntered over to the counter, taking a long drink from her water bottle, just as Player’s image appeared on her laptop screen. “Check it out, Red. Julia just posted a new entry on her blog, about a recent find in Columbia.” Player said, ”But it totally digresses into fun facts about fair trade coffee, including a “Red Blend.” Carmen leaned onto the counter. “Could be another riddle to solve?” “Good thing I learned a thing or two about code-breaking from Julia.” Player smirked, clearly excited to show off his new skills. “Every paragraph ends with a number. If you line ‘em up like they're a date and time, it’s tomorrow at 8am.” “Seems Chief wants an opportunity to thank me over coffee.” Carmen quirked an eyebrow. Seems as though she’d be seeing her favorite agent-turned-historian-turned-agent-again in the field, per Chief’s request. “How can you be sure it’s not a trap?” Player asked apprehensively. “If it were, Jules would’ve worded it differently.”

“OoOoO, are we talking about Jules?” Zack asked, peeking his head out from the doorway.

“That ACME gal Carm has a crush on?” Ivy chimed in, peeking her own head out from under her brother.

Carmen rolled her eyes at the sibling’s cartoonish antics. “Jules and I are just friends, you two.”

Ivy scoffed, entering the room and flopping onto the couch.  “Yeah right- then why did you specifically go to her when you needed help decoding the relics?”

Carmen casually took a sip of her water before answering.  “Jules was already familiar with VILE- getting a stranger involved would’ve only made things more complicated and dangerous than it already was.” Zack hopped onto the couch opposite of Ivy, resting his feet up on her knees. He pointedly ignored Ivy’s protests of, “Zack, gross!” and smirked at Carmen. “Oh? Then why did you ask Devineaux where she was in Louisiana?” “Hey, you never told me about that one!” Ivy gasped, feigning betrayal. “I was just surprised ACME let that driving disaster use a car,” Carmen quipped. Player laughed on his side of the screen. “Don’t act like you’re any better, Red. Don’t you remember your first caper?”

Carmen gasped, pretending to be insulted. “Says the 17 year old without a learners permit.”

“Not like I have anywhere to go.” Player laughed, before refocusing on Carmen’s interrogation. “Speaking of firsts, how about when you first met Julia? I listened in, and it totally sounded like you were flirting with her. You called her “Jules” on your first meeting!” Carmen narrowed her eyes at Player in defiance.  “I was just sitting across from Jules so I could blend in while keeping an eye on Paper Star. And what’s wrong with nicknames? I called Crackle “Gray” and Ivy “Ives”. I don’t see what the difference is.” “The difference is that you and Cracker used to be best friends, and now we are best friends. However, you and Jules were not friends at the time.” Ivy said, emphasizing the nickname. “His name is Crackle now.” “He went and rejoined VILE, I think I get to call Gary whatever I want.” Player chimed back into the conversation. “Why did you leave the Magna Cartas with Julia, anyway? You had one conversation with her, what made you think leaving them with her meant they were in “good hands?” “While sitting next to her, I noticed Devineaux’s briefcase, and she said they were travel partners on business. I figured that meant they were law enforcement also trying to recover the documents. Leaving them with Jules simply saved me the hassle of returning the documents myself.” Carmen explained casually. “What about the fashion show in Milan, Carm? Why’d you have Julia help us then?” Zack asked, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. Carmen sighed in annoyance. Why won’t they just get off her back about this already? “Jules was the only ACME agent around, and I knew that ACME would be able to get the gowns to safety. And before you ask,” Carmen pointed at Ivy, whose mouth was already open with some smug retort, “I put her in charge instead of you because she would know where the gowns could be put for ACME to return.” At that, Ivy simply leaned back onto the couch and mirrored her brother’s smug grin.  “Yeah, that was a fun night.” She smirked, and Zack tried to hold back his laugh that came out as more of a snort. Carmen raised her brow at the untold story, but she decided not to press. For the sake of her sanity.

“Well, what about Stockholm?” Zack blurted. Ivy and Player’s eyes snapped to Carmen, looking for any hint of discomfort, and Zack immediately tried to rectify the situation. “I-I mean, yknow, you just were gonna go try to get her help before-”

Carmen cut off his anxious rambling, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry about it Zack, I know what you mean. I wanted to talk to Jules to see if she could get ACME to back off. While that obviously didn’t happen, I know Jules didn’t try to betray me.” Carmen glanced out the window for a moment, whispering quietly to herself. “I don’t think I could be angry at her if I tried.” Carmen turned back to her friends and smiled. “Plus, she helped me out in Monaco and Ile De L'oleron afterwards, so-” Player practically leapt up from his chair, causing a loud crash as he knocked the fidget spinners off his desk and dropped the rubix cute he was playing with. “Yeah, let's talk about Monaco! You can’t tell me you guys weren’t flirting at the party. She was so confident you were going to deliver the goods to her door, and you trusted her not to stop you when you stole the eggs. Come on, Red, you know she was flirting with you!” Carmen felt Zack and Ivy’s eyes on her expectantly, and she chuckled at Player’s exasperation. “Player, I’m pretty good at reading people, and I’m fairly certain she wasn’t flirting with me. Even if she was, I was not flirting ba-” “Then what about the roses?”

Carmen’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. How did Zack, of all people, know about the roses?

“Oh my god, the roses! Carm, why the fuck didn’t you tell us about the roses?” Ivy exclaimed, springing up from her relaxed position on the couch.

Carmen bit her lip before answering. “They were just flowers, as a thank you gift for the help. How do you know about them, anyway? I didn’t buy them until after you guys left.”

At that, Player piped up once again. “So Red, you know how at the end of each month, I look through our funds and see how much we spend on capers, to set our budget for the next month? Well, it was pretty interesting for me to see that you used our encrypted card to buy a bouquet of red roses from the flower shop across the street from Julia’s apartment, on the same day we left her the goods.”

Fuck. Carmen needed to shut this down, now. “They were just a thank you gift guys, nothing more. Just something Jules could keep for herself. And red is my color, so the roses seemed like a good gift. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Carmen glared at the redheads sternly, daring them to stop her, before looking down at Player with the same forbidding look. ”I’m going to take a shower. Player, let me know when you’ve got a red eye to Seattle ready.” Carmen closed the laptop, tucked it under her arm and walked out of the room without looking back. ~~~

The video call flickered to black, and Player leaned back into his chair, sighing. Red can be so thick-headed sometimes. As he booked her flight, he thought back to their teasing and banter from moments before.

Red seemed pretty genuine- maybe we were wrong after all.

Player took a deep breath- he didn’t want to call Carmen back so soon, especially when she seemed pretty pissed at the end of their last call- but he had booked her flight for a short two hours from now. So, Player reconnected to Carmen’s laptop, still looking at the red eye information on his other monitor, before hearing a loud, exasperated groan coming from his speakers.

“Holy fuck that was such a mess!”

Player’s head snapped towards his other monitor. The laptop had been set on the dresser across from Carmen’s bed, where she was laying sprawled out in agony. Player quickly hit his mute button and sat back to watch.

Carmen’s arms raised up to cover her face- though Player couldn’t see it, he was sure her face was covered in her signature color. “God, and the roses- why did I use the card for the roses? That’s a basic credit card slip, how am I so stupid!”

Carmen sat up, hands still over her flushed face. “I’m so fucking lucky they didn’t hear us on the ferry or at her office, there’s no way they would’ve ever let that go- I thought I wasn’t being obvious about this stupid crush-

That was all the confirmation Player needed. He clicked unmute and nearly shouted, “So you do have a crush on Julia! I knew it!”

Carmen’s head snapped up to the source of the sound, her face as red as her coat hanging on the wall’s hook. “Player! What the fuck are you-” Carmen froze as she watched Player pick up his cell phone. “Player, if you do what I think you’re about to-”

“Then what? You’re two thousand miles away Red, I'm practically untouchable.” He laughed and grinned smugly at the webcam as he dialed a number.

“Player, you are so dead next time I visit Ontario!” Carmen yelled before she threw her door open, barrelling down the hall to the stairway.

~~~

Zack and Ivy watched in silence as Carmen walked out of the room. When they heard the door to the stairway close, they looked at each other, before they couldn’t take it anymore and burst into laughter.

“Holy shit she looked so mad!” Ivy wheezed through her laughing fit.

“I know! Do you think that means she was telling the truth?” Zack questioned as he tried (and failed) to calm his giggles.

“No way.”

“But she seemed pretty-”

“What are you two laughing about?” Shadowsan’s stern voice stopped the twin’s giggling dead in its tracks. Just as Ivy opened her mouth to make an excuse, since she doubted Carmen wanted Shadowsan involved in her love life, (he is like her father, isnt he?) Zack spoke up.

“We tried to get Carm to confess that she likes Julia, but she kept on telling us she just likes Julia as a friend. Maybe she wasn’t lying, most of her reasons were pretty solid.” Ivy would’ve smacked him then and there if Shadowsan hadn’t interrupted her train of thought with a small chuckle. Since when did Shadowsan chuckle? “On VILE Island, Carmen was trained to be a master of deception. Do you not realize that she was also trained to survive any interrogation?” Shadowsan said, with…humor in his voice? Zack and Ivy were silent for a moment. “Wait, does that mean she actually does like Ju-” The moment was interrupted with a call on Ivy’s phone. When she looked at the caller ID, her eyes widened as she answered it and put the device on speaker. “Carmen does have a crush on Julia!” Player shouted from the phone, just as the Crimson Gay Ghost herself burst into the room and crashed into Ivy. “Dammit!” Carmen yelled, taking the phone from Ivy who was now on the floor with Carmen and laughing. “Player, I’m going to fly to Ontario and kick your ass!” Player’s laughing from the phone was almost drowned out by Zack and Ivy’s. “Oh no you’re not, you’ve got a flight to catch in two hours!” “OoOh where to? To go see your “favorite ACME agent”?” Ivy teased through her laughter. “Yeah Carm, I thought thieves love Jules!” Zack said as he laughed. Carmen jumped off of Ivy, her voice a noticeably higher pitch and her face extremely red as she shouted, “No! I mean- well, that is- I just-” As Zack, Ivy and Player continued to tease an extremely red-faced and stammering Carmen, Shadowsan smiled and quietly walked out of the room. It seems the war may be coming to a close with ACME on their side, but that doesn’t mean Carmen has to stop chasing someone.

[at-this-point-i-dont-even-know]

Older Brother Steve / Teacher Eddie

Sometimes you need to just write the fanfiction you want to read yourself... Please enjoy the below- it has not been edited in anyway and should probably not exist.

-------------------------

Steve Harrington wasn’t a jealous man, he didn’t have the time to be jealous most of the time.

He was a single parent to his younger brother, Dustin, and had to work two jobs to keep the lights.

So he wasn’t the jealous type.

Not jealous at all that Dustin has been coming home every day ranting and raving about his new teacher, who was just the coolest guy ever and was so awesome you wouldn’t understand Steve!

He wasn’t so jealous that he went to drop Dustin off at school himself one day just to see what this guy looked like and size him up a little. Because for the last three years he had been the coolest guy in his brother's life, and he wasn’t ready for some teaching little nerd to take him place. 

‘Which is completely rational and exactly the type of thing a normal person would do.” Robin had said over the phone the night before when he had asked her to open the video shop that morning. 

“It is rational, Dustin is at an impressionable age-” Robin scoffed and laughed, “Don’t you dare laugh at me, I am a single father and I am making sure the people who my brother interacts with are appropriate.”

“Right… and you didn’t rehearse that answer in the mirror all day because you knew I would call you cray-cray.”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“Tell Mr Munson I say hello!” she sang down the line as Steve slammed the receiver back into its cradle.

That's how he found himself leaning against his car at 8am on a Monday staring at the high school he had once attended. Dustin was glaring at him and groaning that he couldn't believe he was coming to his class.

“I don’t get why you have to come inside!” he whined as he pulled his backpack from the boot.

“Because I need to have a word with your teacher.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

“God you are so lame! Remember when you were cool?”

The words stung a little, of course Steve remembers when he was cool. He had been the captain of the basketball team, captain of the swim team and the guy girls dumped their boyfriends for, even if it was just to have a quickie in the back seat of the car he had to sell to pay for his parents funeral.

“Yeah, whatever, I'm lame now. Doesn’t mean I am not going in there to find out how you are going.”

Dustin rolled his eyes and walked towards the school.

Steve followed, watching as the other parents stared openly at him, it wasn’t the first time he had dropped his little brother off at school, he had been doing it for three years, but it didn’t mean the young mothers didn’t love to stare. He knew he didn’t fit in with his ripped jeans and the flannel that covered his work shirt but he hadn’t ever cared about that because he had the hair, the car and the reputation to withstand anything.

Now he only had the hair, and after looking after Dustin full time, he was very worried he would lose that too. 

Dustin was much further ahead now and was making a big show of complaining to his friends that his brother was being lame.

Which made Steve smile a little, when their parents had died in a car crash during his senior year, he had been worried Dustin wouldn’t ever recover, he had thrown himself into his dungeons and dragons game and living in the fantasy worlds he created. But in the last few months he had been a lot more vocal about other things and hanging out with more than just Mike who Steve couldn’t help but think was a bad influence on his brother.

“Hi buddy can I help you?” A hand tapped his shoulder and Steve recoiled and turned ready to snap at whoever it was.

But the words got lost in his throat as he took them in, shoulder length messy hair with a fringe that definitely shouldn’t work, bright rings on each finger and a rock band shirt stretched over an obviously muscular body.

“Um..” he muttered just opening staring now.

“You okay?” the stranger said, waving a hand in front of his face.

“I’m Dustin- Steve- I’m Steve.” he couldn’t believe how bad he was at speaking right now, he wanted to slap himself as the stranger just looked more and more concerned.

Thankfully Dustin came bounding up before Steve could say anything else and was about to rescue him until he didn’t stop at Steve's side but bounded up to the Metal Head Stranger and did the most elaborate high five he had ever seen.

“Mr Munson, this is my brother Steve. He’s being lame and wants to speak to you.”

Mr Munson looked up from Dustin and gave Steve the biggest lopsided grin.

“Hi Steve, you can call me Eddie.”

[fallin-4-ya]

8AM Potions / f.w.

8am potions

fred weasley x reader

summary: fred weasley did not like morning classes, especially if that class was potions. but when he gets to know a beautiful girl in 8am potions, his perspective changes.

part ii

warnings: none!

words: 1.6

wake up an hour early to live an hour more

If there was one thing that Fred Weasley was not­– it was a morning person. Waking up was not his favorite thing do, to put it simply. Something about being disturbed from a deep sleep made him not his happiest self. This was a well-known fact amongst the Weasley family. Everyone steered clear of Fred in the early mornings, only speaking to him in an absolute emergency. Agitated quickly, refusing to talk and moping around angrily were the most common traits of morning Fred. Even on special occasions like Christmas and other holidays, he could not find it in himself to be a cheery morning person. It was bad.

So, it was only natural that he had been put into an 8AM Potions class with Professor Snape his sixth year at Hogwarts. It wasn't the early mornings so much as having to deal with Professor Snape at that hour. Fred sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, reading his time-table while mentally cursing himself. Just my luck, he thought while exhaling sharply. Of course, three times out of the week he’d have to wake up early, only to sit around and mope in a class he didn’t want to be taking anyways. Fred shoved the paper slip into his bag, marching off to the common room with a mixture of disgust and frustration. This class better be worth it, he huffed quietly to himself.

Fred awoke the next day a bit too early for his liking. He groaned, rolling over. Maybe if I don’t get out of bed the day won’t actually start, Fred told himself. Inhaling sharply, he arose in one swift motion. He messily put his uniform on and ran his fingers through his hair. Dragging his feet down to the Great Hall, he sat opposite of his brothers and friends.

George’s head snapped up at the boy who sat in front of him, “What’s the matter, Freddie? Too early to be dealing with Snape.”

“I think you mean it’s too early to deal with you.” Fred retorted back without batting an eye.

George smirked at the comment, elbowing Lee who sat beside him. “Not very friendly today, I see. Not to worry, give him until noon and he’ll be right as rain.”

Fred simply rolled his eyes and gathered his books, exiting the table as groggy as he came. He made his way through the corridors and into the dungeons. Taking notice of the six-year students gathered around a door, he knew he had arrived. Fred took a deep breath while walking into the classroom; and without notice or a moment to gather his thoughts he froze.

Fred stared into the room, his eyes landing upon who he thought was the most beautiful girl he had every seen. She turned to the door, greeting a friend who pushed past Fred. He couldn’t tell if it was the way her hair fell or the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. And that smile. It had to be pure happiness. He had never seen anything like it. Fred was sure he had died and went to heaven.

His daydream was broken by a repulsive voice just behind him, “I think, Mr. Weasley, it would be best for you to find your seat,” Fred’s eyes turned to meet Professor Snape, who looked as unpleasant as ever. “Unless, perhaps, you would find it in your best interest to drop this class and save us all the trouble. Or would a week's detention suffice?”

Fred huffed taking a seat beside a Ravenclaw girl in his year. Begrudgingly, he took his battered text book out of his bag and plopped it into the desk. He took his quill and doodled in the margins, hoping more than ever that time would pass quickly. Fred listened to Professor Snape's obnoxious, mundane voice for what seemed like five hours. His patience was thin and he was pretty sure he already ran out of ink. He glanced up at the clock in the corner of the classroom.

Four minutes. Four minutes had passed.

Fred groaned into his hands. This was going to be a much longer year than he had anticipated. He thought about what Professor Snape said, maybe he should drop out now? However, as soon as the though popped into his mind, his vison wandered across the classroom. Fred’s eyes landed on the girl who sat two tables diagonal from him, the same girl he saw walking in. She really was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and suddenly it was as if every thought of leaving class escaped his mind. He imagined study dates, picnics at the black lake, Christmas at the Burrow. Practically every cute outing Fred could think of fired rapidly in his head. Even if all Fred got to do was stare at the back of her head for the year he would be content. He simply had to do it. He had to stay in this class, even if it killed him. The bell rang abruptly, taking Fred out of his thoughts.

Over? Already? Couldn’t be. Only four minutes had passed the last time Fred checked.

Fred walked out of the dungeons and into the sun lit hallways in a much chipper mood than her had that morning. His heart felt like singing as he passed his friends in the hallways. Even the sight of Draco Malfoy hadn’t budged his mood one bit. He walked into the Gryffindor common room with a lopsided grin on his face, taking a seat next to George and a group of students.

“Well, someone’s in a good mood,” George said with a smile.

“Yeah, you blow something up in Snape’s face?” Ginny questioned giggling next to Hermione.

Fred only sighed happily, as if he was falling off cloud nine and landing back into his reality. “Better,” he said sing-songed. “I think I’m in love.”

“Love. That’s a strong word to use at eleven in the afternoon.” Ginny retorted, a smug smile on her face. “Do tell us. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Fred breathed heavily. He had just realized he hadn’t caught her name. How stupid he was. Fawning over her, practically envisioning their wedding; yet he still didn’t know her name. However, luck happened to be on his side. Professor McGonagall walked into the common room asking to speak with him.

“Mr. Weasley,” she started. “I don’t think you will be terribly disappointed with the news I bring, so I may just come out and say it. I’m afraid I sorted you into the wrong potions class on your time-table, and you should be in the afternoon class instead. If you’d like to stay in the early class you may, but-“

“NO!” Fred practically shouted. “I mean, no thank you, Professor. You see, I’ve suddenly grown very fond of early mornings and potions, especially at the same time. You know, now that I'm grown. And stuff.”

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow, “Normally, I would ask if you were up to something. However, I do believe we both know the answer to that.”

Fred smiled awkwardly and nodded.

“Well, if that’s your answer than that is alright with me. Now, if you will excuse me I must tell another girl they’ve been sorted into the wrong potions class as well. I do think Professor Dumbledore has gotten confused about the rosters lately.” Professor McGonagall shared, turning on her heels and walking the other way. Fred’s breathing returned to normal and he thought about the girl in 8AM potions. She hadn't spend a moment out of his head. It’s worth noting that he dreamed about her that night as well.

Fred walked down the hallways beside his brother and Lee Jordan the following day on their way to charms. George and Lee chatted about the charms assignment they completed late last evening and how they were ‘most definitely screwed for class today’. Fred, on the other hand, was rather distracted this morning. He thought long and hard about what Professor McGonagall had said to him yesterday. If he wanted to ditch early morning potions he could, after all he was put into the wrong class and that hadn’t really been his fault. But rather than pondering about it a moment longer he crashed into something in the middle of the hallway. Or rather someone.

After the initial impact and the papers finally finished cascading down from the air, Fred took a deep breath preparing to yell at some first year and tell them to be more careful. But he didn’t. Instead he froze in his tracks. There she was, the girl from potions.

“I’m so sorry,” she started. “I’m just running a bit late as usual and I wasn’t looking where I was going and-“

Fred stopped her by putting up his hand, “Not to worry, love.”

The girl looked up at him. He was much taller than she, and his big eyes sparkled despite them being swallowed by his kind smile. She blushed heavily, unable to utter a word. The red-haired boy was nothing short of handsome.

“I’m Fred by the way,” he said a bit nervously. “Fred Weasley.”

“Y/n y/l/n,” she stuck out her hand. Fred took it, noting how soft her hands were and how perfectly her hands fit into his. “Well, I should get to class,” she smiled. “See you around, Fred Weasley.”

And before Fred had time to say goodbye or even smile back she turned the corner and was gone. He looked down at his hand. mesmerized by her touch. He had it so bad and there was absoutly nothing her could do about it.

“That’s the girl. Isn’t it?” George smirked, knowingly.

“Yep.” Fred popped the ‘p’, still staring at the corner she turned.

“She’s totally out of your league,” Lee said, almost as if he too was entranced by her beauty.

Poor Fred hadn’t even heard, nor paid attention to Lee’s comment because he was somehow high off the love he had for her. Or rather the excitement of finally knowing her name. y/n.

(AN: thank you so much for reading! there WILL be a part 2 so stay tuned if you enjoyed. also, if you would like to be added to this taglist just let me know! sending loving vibes! xo~ mari)

taglist: @ur-average-loser @pineapplesandpinas @billweasleysbitch

[gguksgalaxy]

Inkling | JJK

Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

›› AU: Tattoo Artist ›› Genre: Smut / Angst ›› Rating: 18+ explicit sex ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 17.7k Warnings Include: Lots of swearing, conflict, a false accusation of cheating on a third party (it’s nothing serious please trust me), Jungkook being a dick, the death of a coat hanger, mentions of internalised homophobia, fear of coming out, and unaccepting parents. Sexual content: rough (protected) sex, piercings, heavy petting, teasing (with and without other people around), lots of tongue action, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, marking, nipple play, mentions of riding, blowjobs, and mxm sex. A/N: This one is for my beloved friend @xiubaek-13 who’s stood by me and my tumblr journey for over 3 years now. Our friend anniversary was last week, the 16th of January, so it’s a little late. But I hope you still love it. Remember, you gave me this idea, so you shall face the consequences. Enjoy <3

“Like, it’s so unfair,” you groan, arm slung over your face. “He kisses so well. I’m talking toe-curling, spine-arching, breathtakingly good. He really didn’t need to decorate his tongue with a gold medal to celebrate it.” You've replayed the events of Saturday night many times since it happened. The way Jungkook’s hands had slid under your shirt. Your thighs spread over his. Kissing, grabbing, moaning. It really wasn’t fair, the way his tongue pressed into your mouth and made you cave at the very first swipe. The first subtle brush of his golden tongue piercing against your lips. How he—

“Okay, please stop detailing me on what he can do with his tongue and get to the point. If this was just about his amazing tongue skills you wouldn’t be here right now. You’d be in his bed.” Hoseok grumbles. “So?” His back is turned to you as he motions for you to continue, busy cleaning his tattoo gun after he touched up your latest piece. A colourful design on the side of your breast and ribs.

It’s one of the reasons you find yourself here. Half your chest out at 8am in Hoseok’s tattoo shop, Inkling. The other reason is being able to vent about his best friend and colleague — Jungkook — without him actually being here.

Jungkook, who had kissed you like he meant it. Fingers sinking deep into the flesh of your thighs. Whose bun had come undone from the way your fingers had slid into his hair. The ink that covers his slightly tanned skin shifting to show defined muscles. The smirk he had every time he’d looked at you — quirking up the left corner of his mouth. His stupidly skilled tongue. The golden tongue piercing that adorns it.

He’d kissed you so hungrily — devoured you — and then he’d gotten up and ran out on you. Leaving you with no proper explanation or goodbye.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve got twenty minutes left to tell me what happened before I go pick him up. Get on with it.” Hoseok finally turns to face you again, grabbing the cream and film to finish up your tattoo. The deep-coloured mandala designs on his elbow shift as he does so. Like all of Hoseok’s tattoos, these are traditionally styled, more simple. Yet, there’s something about every one of his pieces that is uniquely him. Like the small red flower at the hollow of his throat that shifts as he speaks. “What’d he do to you?”

You groan again, lifting your arm a little to give him better access to your side. “I’m not entirely sure really. Like...One second we’re making out and the next he gets up and pushes me off.”

Smoothing the film over your side, he speaks without losing focus. “How drunk was he?” Hoseok isn’t normally this flat in his speech. His mood, much like yours, seems off today.

“Not all that drunk, seen him way worse.” You and Jungkook had both been tipsy, at most. Neither of you made it past more than three drinks before you were all over each other. Hands on bodies. Lips on necks.

It had been a long time coming. The two of you agonisingly ogling each other from a distance for months. That is, if you can call you nearly sitting in his lap every change you get ‘distance’. Even your brother Yoongi had firmly called you out to do something about the sexual tension. Last Saturday you had. It just didn’t go as planned.

Your friend chuckles suddenly.

“What?”

“Nothing, just a thought. Keep talking.”

“No, Jung. Spit it out.” Now that he’s done, you sit up to narrow your eyes at him.

He shrugs. “Maybe you’re just a bad kisser, I don’t know.”

You gasp. “I am no such thing.”

“I mean, I can’t attest to that. Facts only.” He again motions for you to continue as he gets up to clean some things. “He pushes you off and then what?”

Something about the way that Jungkook had looked at you when he pushed you off had stuck with you. Pain, confusion. No lust, no want, not even embarrassment. “He just left.”

“What do you mean he left?” Your friend’s eyebrows contort as he pulls off his gloves. They’re black just like the walls in the small shop. “Are you sure he wasn’t just — I don’t know — not that into it?”

You scowl. “I am not that bad of a kisser Hoseok! If the tent in his jeans had been anything to go by, I’d say it’s the opposite.”

Hoseok merely rolls his eyes, dusting off his ripped jeans and sitting down at the end of the chair that you're still lounging on. He runs a hand through his vibrant red hair.

Part of you just feels sick to your stomach. Both out of embarrassment, confusion and anxiety. Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and you had all gone to a club together, a normal Saturday night. It’s not uncommon for you and Jungkook to get a little handsy after a few drinks. Usually though, you’d be delightfully cockblocked by your brother, Yoongi.

You get it. Jungkook doesn’t want to make out with his friend’s little sister when he’s right there. Now that he finally got free reign, this happens.

Whatever ‘this’ even means. All you’ve been able to think about is that Jungkook knew what he was doing. His mouth, his hands, his body. Everything. He played you like a damn fiddle. The moan he’d let out at the first contact of your mouth to his still echoes in your ears. Deep, guttural relief.

Hoseok interrupts your train of thoughts, “and you haven’t seen him since he walked out on your apparently amazing make-out session?”

“It’s not like I ever see him on Sundays. Shop’s closed and Yoongi and I usually have a stay-in day.”

“Has he called?” Hoseok asks, quirking one dark eyebrow.

“No?”

“Texted?”

“Nope.”

He sighs, ruffling his own hair, foot tapping on the grey tiles of the floor. “Have you tried texting him? Calling him?” The accusatory tone in his voice twists your gut as you give him a sheepish grimace. “Y/N!”

“What?!” You look away, eyes focusing on anything but him. The off-white desks, Jungkook’s detailed artwork displayed on the opposite wall. The red of the door that leads into the back, or maybe the piercing display.

The chair creaks when Hoseok gets up. “I just thought that, since you’re a girl, you’d have a bit more sense when it comes to shit like this. But you and Yoongi really are one and the same.”

“Excuse me?” you spit, turning back to face him as you grab for your shirt to cover yourself up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Both of you are dense as fuck. You can’t always wait for the other person to act first.” The sharp tinge in Hoseok‘s voice hints at something else. Something unrelated to you and Jungkook. It must be related to your brother. After all, they’d been in a relationship for a little over half a year now. A rocky one. Something must’ve happened between them over the weekend. “Just,” he stops, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Jungkook will be here today, just ask hi—“

The bell that sounds as the door open drown out the sound of Hoseok’s playlist. It brings with it the sound of pouring rain. The tattoo artist immediately gets up to check. The shop isn’t open yet.

“Kook?!” Hoseok exclaims. “I told you I was coming to pick you up. You’re going to get sick like this. What were you thinking?” Concern laces his voice as he rushes over to his friend who’s still hidden from your view behind the velvet grey curtain. Hoseok lets out a few curses, caring personality getting the better of him. Always a listening ear, always ready to help. Sometimes, maybe a little too concerned. Jungkook seems to agree.

“I can take care of myself,” the younger grumbles. He trudges inside, entering the area where you’re currently sitting. Water is dripping down his leather jacket and black baseball cap onto the tile floor. He’s effectively soaked to the bone. Black jeans plastered to his thighs more than usual.

A sense of dread fills your veins when his eyes land on your still half-naked chest. Yes, Jungkook has seen you topless before. To pierce your nipple. Not randomly in the middle of his shop.

His dark gaze flickers between you and Hoseok. Jaw clenched tight, tongue pushing his cheek. “I have a change of clothes in the back.” His voice is nothing short of a sneer, as he drops his backpack by his station and walks off without another word.

“Yikes,” Hoseok whispers. “Are you sure you told me the entire story?”

You shoot him a glare. “Shut up before he fucking hears you. And call my brother,” you mumble, pulling your shirt over your head, “He’s not going to call you first. We both know that.”

With your shirt back on you feel a little more comfortable. But not comfortable enough to immediately go confront Jungkook.

“What did you two fight about anyway?” you question the redhead who’s currently bent over the laptop by the front desk.

Hoseok doesn’t look up, brown eyes lit by the screen. “Nothing you should be concerned about. You just worry about mister tongue medal. I can fix my own relationship problems.” The comment stings. Neither Hoseok nor Yoongi have ever been particularly open about their relationship. Even though you’re close with both.

“That was unnecessary.”

“I’m sorry.” He leans his head down. “Having all three of you in bad moods is just not doing any good for my own.” The tension in his body is evident as he straightens up. He slides a black folder your way. “How about you go make inventory from today’s shipment. I’ll try and talk to him during morning appointments.”

Inventory, great. Not the kind of work you thought you’d be doing when you offered to help them around the place. You want to protest, but he cuts you off.

“Listen, I know that you hate doing inventory. I know you don’t want to be here at all right now, but you promised to cover Tae’s position until we found someone else.” He’s right, you had offered to do that. In return for a tattoo, you would work their front desk whenever you have time between school and your actual, paying job. The desk was previously manned by Jungkook’s best friend Taehyung. He now works at an art gallery. A job he’s always dreamed of. “It’s not my fault you decided to make out with him,” Hoseok states. “Okay? Now go.”

“I know, I’m going.”

There’s no way for you to miss Jungkook as you round the corner. Tanned skin and tattoos shift as he shakes his wet hair. The crow and moon tattoo on his upper back stand out starkly. Dark, like most of his tattoos. You’ve seen it before, it’s always peeking up from the collar of his shirt. The floral pattern that peeks up from the waistband of his jeans is new to you though. It curves over his lower back and hips. You wonder how deep it goes.

The fabric of his clean shirt drapes down and hides everything from your view. It snaps you out of your thoughts quickly enough for you to slip into the storage room quickly enough before he spots you.

Your gut wrenches with nerves. Avoidance, great. Probably not the best way to solve this. Certainly not the fastest. But then again, talking this out while Hoseok is right there is inconsiderate. It’ll have to wait.

You’ll just spend the rest of your morning thinking about nothing else but Jungkook. The anger in his eyes a few minutes ago, the feeling of his tongue, and shipments. Fun.

Your butt hits the floor as you open the folder. The room is dusty, even with the lights on you struggle to read Hoseok’s jagged handwriting. For someone who draws so well you’d expect something at least semi-legible. Regardless, you can’t focus to begin with.

You and Jungkook have been running in circles ever since that one time when he pierced your nipple. Cliché, but it is what it is. You remember the risky touches and how turned on you’d been. Until he actually pierced you. That had been the most painful thing you ever experienced.

It’s been over a year since Jimin, Yoongi’s coworker, introduced the two of you to Hoseok and Jungkook. Now, everyone in your close circle of friends knows that there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension between you and the youngest. Sadly, neither of you have acted on it. That’s as much your own fault as it is Jungkook’s. Not to speak of the fact that you’ve been interested in him ever since you first laid eyes on him. An entire year, and you did nothing about it.

In that time, Jimin started dating Taehyung. The guy who worked Inkling’s front desk. And your brother has started dating Hoseok. Something Yoongi had only recently told Jungkook about.

That had been a bit of an unfortunate situation. As much as you had assured Yoongi that Jungkook would not bat an eye if he came out to him, he just kept pushing it off. The way your parents had treated him when he told them he was gay made a deep impact on him. It’s a wound you don’t think will ever truly heal. Your parents’ harsh reaction was the reason he moved out at the young age of sixteen. That same reason caused you to show up at his doorstep a few years later. To live with him. Support him.

You and Yoongi have always been close. It’s why he knows about your crush on Jungkook. It’s why you’ve kept Yoongi’s secret from everyone for so long. He’d been especially on guard when he thought Jungkook had already found out a few weeks ago. Apparently Jungkook had suspected something, asked Taehyung about it, who told Jimin, who came to Yoongi. Your brother had then turned into a hysterical mess.

That situation is over now. And somehow you’ve magically created another one out of thin air. You think about this as you count the packages of dyes, gloves, masks, and other various things you’ve no clue what they’re used for. It’s just a little tricky to match the official descriptions to Jungkook’s incoherent labels and abbreviations. Boxes labeled guns, pricklers, and clamps most certainly weren’t what you were looking for. Those are all related to Jungkook’s piercing practice.

When Hoseok and Jungkook set up the shop three years ago it had taken the younger an entirety of a year to convince his friend to let him start piercing. Hoseok’s slightly irrational fear of piercings made a poor argument. Especially since tattooing involves a needle. Something about the puncturing of skin or whatever. Jungkook had eventually won.

Your phone rings, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What the...” you mutter as you see Taehyung’s name pop up on the screen. Taehyung never calls you. The two of you don’t even talk outside of the group.

Picking up, you lean against one of the shelves. “Hey Tae, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” There’s a loud yawn on the other end followed by the unmistakable sound of a car door closing. He must be about to get into work. “I’m calling about Jungkook.”

Heart rate picking up, you await his following words.

“I’m not sure what exactly happened, but you probably know more about it than I do.” His voice trails off, faintly lined with anger.

“Is this about Saturday?” you ask, hoping for a no.

Taehyung is silent for a few beats, “I mean, I thought the two of you finally fucked after we couldn’t find you two. Jimin and I scouted the entire place, you were nowhere to be found. He’s called you three times since, and you haven’t gotten back to him. What happened?”

You mentally curse yourself for not calling Jimin back. He’d be way easier to talk to than an aggravated Taehyung.

“I'll rephrase my question,” he says upon your lack of answer. “Yesterday Jungkook came to ours at eight in the morning. He was really fucking distraught and I want to know if you have anything to do with it?”

“Tae...” you hesitate, unsure of what to tell him. The tone of his voice isn’t making it easy for you to choose your words. You know he has a temper. He won’t just forgive you if you hurt Jungkook, he’d do anything to protect him.

“Don’t ‘Tae’ me, you’re not Jimin. It doesn’t work when you do it. You can’t blame me for looking out for Jungkook when he was so upset.”

You really do understand where he’s coming from. Before he and Jimin had gotten steady enough to move in together, Taehyung had been crashing on Jungkook and Hoseok’s couch for months after a series of complicated events. The details had been kept from you, but it involved Taehyung severing ties with a gang he’d been involved in. It hadn’t gone as planned, and Jungkook had to make sure he would get back up on both feet. He made sure he had a roof over his head and food to eat. The entire ordeal had completely passed you by until Jungkook mentioned it to you when he was drunk on your couch one night a few weeks ago.

“Y/N?” he pushes

“I know, I know. Just give me the space to fix this, okay? I have as much of an idea as to what’s going on as you do.” You rub your eyes, trying to stave off the nerves. “I’ll talk to him today, I promise.”

The other’s car engine revs in the background. “Did you know he was upset?”

You bite your lip. “Sort of.”

“And you didn’t think to call him?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” The way the words fall from his lips make tears appear in the corners of your eyes. What if Taehyung was right? What if you had read all the signs wrong? What if Jungkook didn’t like you? Had you messed up? Pushed him too far? “I’ve known Jungkook since we were kids. He puts up a strong front and you know it. He manages to scare off enough people by merely looking at them. But we’re all aware that he doesn’t look at you the same way. He’s more sensitive than he lets on.” Taehyung’s voice remains neutral, but his words still sting.

You find yourself sliding down the shelves and onto the floor. Fighting the tears increasingly getting harder as Taehyung’s words cause your mind to reach for places that it shouldn’t. Jungkook is more than just a hot guy who wears a manbun and has too many piercings for you to count. He’s more than a guy you want to fuck. You like him, as a person.

“Just let me talk to him, okay? I haven’t had a chance yet.” There’s not much else to tell him. You know that he’s not going to take your side. If you really hurt Jungkook you wouldn’t forgive yourself either. “I never intended to upset him.” The thought that you might’ve pushed Jungkook too far feels wholly irrational, but you can’t get it out of your head anymore.

Taehyung’s silence threatens to make your thoughts spiral again. When he speaks you’re almost relieved. “To be honest, I don’t want to turn this into a huge thing before my ten hour shift.” Your heart sinks. “I’ve got to go, let me know how it goes.”

He hangs up without another word, leaving you with guilt settling heavily in your stomach. This entire situation is messed up. You vividly remember Jungkook pulling you in, capturing your mouth with his. He’s the one who shifted you into his lap, who made you his. It can’t just have been your imagination. Maybe this wasn’t even related to you.

You just hope that whatever it is that caused him to react this way, is something you can fix. An apology should be the start. Taehyung was right.

A knock on the door startles you. “Are you alive?” Hoseok calls, opening the door. He frowns upon seeing your slouched form on the floor. Phone lying between your legs. “You know that if you want to take a break, you can just come up to the front, right?”

You shake your head. “Taehyung called.”

Hoseok helps you up, brushing some dust off the back of your shirt. “Everything okay?”

“Ha, no.” You let out a dry chuckle that’s merely there to cover up your obvious nerves. “Taehyung seemed pretty angry.”

“Eh, he always does. He’s just overprotective of Jungkook, Jimin’s not gonna let him actually rip you a new one. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” Hoseok speaks gently as he grabs the binder off the floor. “Did you finish?”

You nod. “Just unsure of where everything goes.” There’s still a few open boxes in the back.

“That’s okay. I’ll put them into place later.”

“Hobi?” you ask as he opens the door.

He hums an affirmative.

“What if Jungkook didn’t want to kiss me?”

There’s a brief silence, Hoseok turning around with the most confused look on his face as he observes you. “I’m sorry but what did Taehyung say to you? I swear that I have no idea what’s going on but I can assure you that Jungkook not wanting you is the least of your problems.” He lets out a laugh.

“Okay,” you mumble, a little hurt that he’s laughing at it. But he’s probably right. Jungkook’s lingering touches, his purposeful stares, that little thing he does with his tongue piercing that drives you insane. “Did you call my brother yet?”

Hoseok nods, moving to his messy station. “He’s supposed to bring over lunch. All’s good, I promise.” He ruffles your hair and you swat at his arm. Maybe he’s getting a little too comfortable around you. He might be dating your brother, but that doesn’t give him the right to do that. Only Yoongi is allowed to ruffle your hair. Sometimes.

Back in the front area, Jungkook is finishing up a tattoo on someone’s leg. The man’s lying on his stomach, seemingly quiet. Just how you know Jungkook prefers his sessions. He doesn’t talk much when he’s working, finds it easier to concentrate this way. For a moment you let yourself stare. Eyes gliding over the dip in his back and his messy hair. The way it’s pushed back shows off his eyebrow piercing.

Many have claimed him to be intimidating. If it isn’t for the multitude of piercings in his face and ears, then it’d be the way his arms and shoulders are covered in ink. Or his facial expressions. There’s something about the way his brows furrow and his jaw sets just right, that tends to make the sixteen year old girls who come to get their belly buttons pierced regret their decisions. You on the other hand, can’t get enough of him like this.

Where Jungkook is all black — tattoos, clothes and hair — Hoseok is brighter. The other’s red hair and deep-coloured tattoos speak for his personality. He’s more outgoing, more open. And unfortunately, more obnoxious at times. Right now you get a good look at the fox tattoo that covers his left thigh. It peaks out through one of the arguably too big holes in his jeans. He definitely picked them out on purpose.

When you turn back to look at Jungkook, your eyes meet his and you’re not prepared. A lump forms in your throat as his eyes seem stone cold. There’s no smirk, no flirtatious glint. Nothing but what could only be described as anger. “What?” he asks, voice nearly a sneer.

You startle at the harshness, mumbling a quiet ‘nothing’ before deciding to just go to the front desk.

The man leaves before your lunch arrives, and at this point you really are starting to get hungry. Jungkook yet again disappears without a word, probably to the lightbox to draw something. Or he’s smoking a cigarette out back. A nasty, nervous habit of his.

Hoseok’s busy doing work on his laptop, when finally, your lunch arrives. It’s just not Yoongi, but Jimin who’s carrying it inside.

“Hey, a little help would be welcome,” Jimin groans as he pushes open the door with his shoulder. Both you and Hoseok scramble up to help before he spills the coffee all over the floor. “Thanks. Yoongi got stuck doing God knows what, so I’m bringing food in his name.” He smiles, lifting your mood as easily as ever. No matter what’s going on, Jimin’s presence is always soothing and bright.

Yoongi had first met the blonde when he started dishwashing at a local restaurant. Now both him and Jimin are leading staff and close friends.

Jimin looks around the shop. “Where’s Kook?”

You suck in your cheek, meeting Jimin’s suspicious gaze. “He’s holed up in the back.”

Jimin’s eyes shift from you to Hoseok, contemplating speaking up.

“You can say it,” you say blandly, “Hoseok knows.”

“Did you talk to him yet?” he whisper-yells. “You’re so lucky I didn’t tell on your ass to Tae. But the next time you ditch me and ignore my calls I will not hesitate to kick your ass myself.”

“What?”

Jimin’s face changes into a glance you know all too well. That specific one which says; are you fucking kidding me? “Do you really think that I didn’t see you and Mr. I don’t wanna fuck Yoongi’s sister, sucking face in the corner?” Your cheeks heat up. “I mean, we all knew he was lying. But that’s not the point.” Jimin presses a finger in your chest. “My point is that the next time the two of you leave to exchange something more than saliva, at least send me a text.” Jimin’s tone is highly accusatory, but he doesn’t seem upset. That’s probably just because he doesn’t know what’s going on. His hand goes into one of the bags, fishing out a pale muffin for himself to eat.

Hoseok coughs, setting his decaf latte back on the desk. “I hate to break it to you Jimin, but that’s not the actual story.”

You want to slap him for exposing you like that. Reaching behind the counter you turn the music up so you can tell Jimin who’s waiting with wide eyes. “Jungkook and I didn’t go home together,” you confess.

“Please don’t tell me you fucked in the ba—“

“JIMIN!” You shove him lightly. “Just — no, okay? We made out and he bolted on me,” you whisper.

Jimin cocks an eyebrow. “That would...explain a lot but also nothing at the same time. Jungkook was pretty out of it yesterday. I mean, he gets like that from time to time, but still. My bet was on the sex being bad. Or like — I don’t know — you saying his dick was small.”

“Okay, okay! We get it!” you hush.

“Get what?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you.

You still, stopping yourself from immediately turning around and meeting his probably cold eyes. Part of you want to say something, anything. But you can’t find the words. Especially when he comes close enough for you to feel the heat of his body radiate to your back. His chest grazes your shoulders as he grabs his drink and food from the desk.

“She and Yoongi had a falling out this morning,” Hoseok says calmly, the saviour of your day. “Nothing big.”

Jimin smiles at Jungkook, but it’s not returned. “Hot chocolate, no whip, one shot of espresso.”

Nothing more than a barely-audible thanks follows. He runs his fingers through his fringe, hair now pulled up in a bun again, before he leaves to continue whatever he was doing.

“Are you really that bad at kissing?” Jimin whispers, making you shove him again.

“Shut up, not you too. This is serious, keep your nosy ass out of it.”

Jimin gasps in offense. “You better remember who brings you lunch.” You roll your eyes. “Also, can I talk to you guys about Tae’s birthday present?”

You hoist yourself onto the desk, nodding as you finally bite into your own muffin.

“Of course, it’s not like any of us know what to get him,” Hoseok adds.

Jimin sighs a little. “He keeps saying that he doesn’t want anything. But I know that isn’t true. It’s just that the one thing he really wants is expensive and I can’t afford it on my own.” The slight tremble to his voice gives him away. He loves Taehyung, would do anything for him. You know that Hoseok would be here to help, so are you. “He has a tattoo, he wants to get it covered up. But Jungkook’s told him that he has to get it laser-treated first because it's pretty big and dark. I looked it up and it’s not cheap. I just don’t want you guys to think that I’m taking advantage of you or something. I just...”

Hoseok pipes up before Jimin can even properly finish. “I’m sure that if we all chip in it’ll be good. Plus, Jungkook and I would totally do the cover-up for free. It’s gonna hurt, but it’ll be worth it. You agree, Y/N?”

You nod. You've never seen Taehyung's tattoo, and you know Jimin's not going to go into details, but you understand him wanting to get rid of it. It's his last tie to his past. “Yeah, I’ll chip in. Just send us how much it is and we’ll figure it out Jimin.”

Jimin just about bursts at the seams from happiness. He hugs both of you so tight, whispering a dozen thank you’s as he does. “It’ll mean so much to him!” His eyes flicker to the clock. “By the way, before I go. Hoseok, have you and Yoongi finally told Jungkook about the two of you fucking and all?”

Hoseok grimaces. “We’re dating, Jimin. Stop putting it like that.”

“Potato, potato.”

“We didn’t tell him,” Hoseok confesses.

“What?” You and Jimin say at the same time.

Hoseok sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Yoongi got cold feet. Again.”

Jimin is silent, brows furrowing before his lips part in realisation. “Oh...OH!” He almost starts laughing. “I know what’s going on here. I see, I see.”

You frown at him, looking at Hoseok for an answer but he seems equally confused.

“Girl, you gotta talk to Jungkook. This? It’s all a huge misunderstanding. Just talk to him, you’ll be fine. Trust me.” The giggle in his voice makes you a little angry. He could just tell you, but he’s halfway out the door before you even get the chance to ask. “Also, you,” he says pointing at Hoseok, “make  sure you tell Jungkook about you and Yoongi before he finds out like me and Tae. Meaning with you three knuckles deep in Yoongi’s ass.”

“Okay!” Hoseok calls, somewhat flustered as he gets up. “You’ve said enough for today, don’t you have customers to yell at?”

Jimin laughs, giving you one more glance. “If you and you-know-who end up having some r-rated sessions, please use protection.”

“OUT!” you and Hoseok yell in unison, causing Jimin to quickly slip away before you can properly shove him out the door yourself.

Jimin really seemed to be one step ahead of you, and you hate it. Though his gut was usually right so maybe you should trust him that it’ll all be okay. Hoseok said the same thing after all.

The rest of your day goes by fairly smoothly. A few walk-ins but nothing special. Jungkook quietly works with his back to you, and Hoseok does his best to start some sort of conversation. It dead-ends each time.

When Hoseok is getting ready to leave, your nerves feel like they’re going to burst from your body. Literally. You don’t know if you can do this. Talk to Jungkook. He’s been stone cold the entire day, not a single word where it wasn’t absolutely necessary. You’ve never seen him like this, even Hoseok started to become a victim of his wrath. Jungkook started snapping at him too, causing the elder to just leave him be after a while.

“Listen,” Hoseok says, “I’m going to go, here’s my key in case you need it. Talk to him. Tell me how it goes.”

You whine. “Hobi...”

“No, you’re doing this. I refuse to work with him like this for another fucking second. Just talk. It’s probably nothing.” His voice is stern, and he opens the door to leave. “If it really goes south you can yell at me later. But you have to try.” he goes, leaving you behind in the empty shop unknowingly of what to do.

It can’t be that bad, right? Your hands tremble as you try to take a deep breath. What are you so afraid of? Jungkook rejecting you? Maybe...It would hurt. Everyone would be surprised, that’s for sure. There’s been something oddly specific about how he treats you, looks at you. Jimin’s often referred to it as ‘looking at each other as if you were going to fuck right then and there’.

You take another deep breath. The only way to face the beast is head-on right? Jungkook isn’t gonna hurt you. Worst he could do is yell at you. You can handle that. Right?

With shaking legs you walk into the back, thoughts still running rampant. He’s not at his station. The black chair empty, grey desk neatly cleaned with the dyes organised by colour. Hoseok could take from that.

“Why are you still here?” Jungkook’s voice startles you.

A shiver runs down your spine, the deep drawl echoing in your mind. “I want to talk.” Your voice wavers slightly.

He gives you no chance to face him, scoffing as he walks past you. Not even a glance in your direction. He gathers his pencils that have rolled onto the floor, placing them neatly back on the desk. The black koi fish tattoo on his right shifts as he does. It matches the white one on the left. Yin and Yang, separated. His movements are rough, and he’s rushing through it. Trying to get away.

“Well?” he questions. “Are you going to talk or not?”

The harshness in his voice has you stunned for a moment. “I-I...Jungkook I’m really sorry if I did anything to upset you. I’m not sure what’s going through your mind but, if this is because you didn’t want to kiss me the—“

Jungkook’s hand make a harsh sound as they connect with the surface of the desk. “Is this a game to you?” He looks at you — glares. Angers rolls off his shoulders that are coiled tight

“What?”

“You heard me,” he all but growls. “Do you think this is a joke?” Jungkook looks away, eyes closing with a deep, barely-controlled breath. It shudders through him.

Your hands are clenched tightly, they ache to touch him. To smooth down over the expanse of his back in an attempt to comfort him. “If I thought this was funny I wouldn’t be here trying to talk to you.”

“Fuck.” The words fall from his lips right before his teeth sink into them. His fingers squeak over the desk’s surface. When he looks up at you, you expect to see the anger. The disgust. However, you don’t expect it to be in the shape of tears glistening in his eyes as he struggles to even look at you for more than a few seconds. “Stop being like this, okay? We both know that what we did was wrong. It’s eating me alive and you know what — I can’t deal with it any longer.” Jungkook reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder with so much force it collides with his back. Yet, you don’t miss the tremble in his other hand. “I’m giving you one day to tell him. Otherwise I’ll do it myself.”

You frown, quickly following him towards the front. “Is this about Yoongi?”

Jungkook stops in his tracks, causing you to almost bump into him. “Yoongi?” He’s seething with anger. It’s hot, burning your skin and making your throat constrict. “I’m talking about us nearly fucking while you’re obviously in a relationship with Hoseok.”

Silence. Minutes seem to tick by as you take in his words. “What?”

A last time, he turns. The look he gives you is nothing short of pure, unfiltered disgust. “You know what? I’m so done with you.” He shakes his head. “You know I like you, everyone knows it. And we were both wrong here. But I can’t cope with the fact that I had my best friend’s girlfriend moaning in my lap two nights ago.” Jungkook’s words are painfully sharp, but they don’t seem to only affect you. He’s hurting himself unnecessarily. “If he hates me after this that’s fine, but someone has to tell him.”

“Kook,” you try, tears brimming your own eyes. But he doesn’t hear you.

“It’s bad enough that everyone seemed to know about you two except for me. And if you were trying to protect me then I can try to understand, but I can see the signs you know? I’m not fucking blind. Hoseok’s always going home with you. He spends three nights a week at your apartment at the very least. And even around here the two of you have gotten disgustingly close. Hell, Y/N, you were half naked in here with him before business hours as if it’s the most normal thing. I don’t even want to entertain the idea of the two of you fucking in here. This isn’t r—“

“STOP!” you yell, hands coming up to cover your ears. “Just, stop!”

Jungkook’s mouth snaps shut as he stares at you. Your mind is going a hundred miles an hour. He thinks you and Hoseok are together. Jungkook thinks that you and Hoseok are dating, because Yoongi never told him that he's the one dating Hoseok. That it’s his bed Hoseok is sleeping it. Yoongi never even told him that he’s into guys. Jungkook has no reason to entertain the idea of you not being the reason that Hoseok was over at your apartment. He went with the logical option. That you and Hoseok are an item.

“It’s...”

You want to tell him. It’d be an easy way out to tell him Yoongi is dating Hoseok. That Hoseok wasn't sleeping in your bed. But you can’t do that to your brother. You can’t out him, it’s wrong. The only chance you can take is hoping Jungkook will believe your word.

“I’m not dating Hoseok,” you say as calmly as you can.

He scoffs, loud. Nostrils flaring as he reaches for the door handle.

Fingers circling around his other arm, you stop him. Causing him to quickly shrug you off as if you’d burnt him.

“Don’t fucking touch me. It’s bad enough we did this. I don’t need you lying to me about it.”

You shake your head, almost reaching out for him again in your panic. “Just...hear me out. If you really like me as much as you say. If you believe that I like you too. Hear me out.” There’s one other way out of this. One other person he would believe. “Please Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He wavers. Caves. “Fine.”

Relief floods your veins, and you sink back against the counter. “Okay, I’m going to call Hoseok.” You grab your phone from your pocket, fingers sliding over the screen shakily. “Just—“

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“HEY!” you call, causing him to startle. “You’re sitting your fucking ass down. It’s not my fault that you’re not willing to believe me and decided to get worked up over some imaginary scenario.” Your voice is barely a growl but it pushes him enough to finally get his hand off the doorknob. “Sit. The fuck. Down.”

He swallows thickly, and your chest heaves with anger. To your surprise, he actually slumps down onto the couch without another word.

“I’m gonna call Hobi, and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut until I’m finished.” No words come from him, but the scowl on his face says enough. Hoseok’s picture pops up with you dial him, and you take the time to steady yourself. This has to work.

“Did you two finally figure out your bullshit?” Hoseok asks the second he picks up.

The nerve. “You gotta help me out here.” You hold the phone steady, putting him on speaker as you look straight at the man across from you while speaking. “Do you remember when I explicitly told you this morning — in all glorious details — about Jungkook and I making out?”

There’s a clear shift in Jungkook’s expression. Eyebrows raising ever so slightly. His red bitten lips parting.

“Yes — Wait,” Hoseok stumbles. “Am I on speaker? Why am I on speaker? I want no part in this!”

“Hobi!” He needs to listen to you and help. “Please just tell your friend that you and I are not fucking.”

The first sound that comes from the other end of the line is a loud snort. Followed by hysterical laughter. “Oh. My. God.” This situation isn't funny to you nor Jungkook, but you suppose that Hoseok comes across very authentic like this. One day you’ll probably laugh about this too. “Jungkook, sweetheart,” he laughs. “You really gone and cockblocked yourself because you thought I was dating her?”

Jungkook's eyes are now wide with confusion, body sunk deeply into the leather couch as his gaze is unfocused. “You’re...not?”

“No offense to Y/N,” Hoseok says with laughter still ringing his voice, “but absolutely not.”

“None taken,” you state dryly, “thank you.”

Your eyes follow Jungkook as he stands up slowly, leaving his bag on the couch. His tongue presses into his cheek, running under his top lip where you know he hides one of his many piercings. The change in his body language is evident, and you shiver as he looks at you.

Hoseok sighs dramatically. “No problem. I’m getting used to saving your guys’ day. Now can you two please fuck out your frustrations so that I can work and live in peace. Use protection. Cheers!”

The line ends before you can say another word to him. When you finally glance up at Jungkook again, he’s closer than you thought.

He stands barely a foot away, eyes curiously meeting yours. Scanning your face for any type of reaction, waiting. His hands hang limp by his side, shoulder no longer bunched but...Something about him is still taut. “You’re not dating Hoseok?” he asks, voice unexpectedly deep.

“No,” you breathe softly, unable to look away from him. From this angle you can see his eyebrow piercing where it hides under his fringe. You can see his eyes darken too.

“You’re single?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a quick flash of gold.

You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

Jungkook steps that much closer, toes bumping yours as he lowers his face. His breathing is heavy, chest almost brushing yours as he corners you against the desk. “And I can have you?”

“All yours.”

Everything is forgotten from there. Jungkook’s hands fly up to cup your face, tilting you up so he can capture your mouth with his. You groan, deeply relieved at the contact. Jungkook has no reservations. No, within seconds you find yourself with one of his thighs snugly between yours and his tongue pushing past your lips.

Fuck. The feeling of his piercing pressing against your tongue still takes you by surprise. You shiver with excitement. Your fingers grapple for purchase at his shoulders.

Jungkook moans, a sound that’s silenced by you kissing him back. It’s messy, you can feel his heart hammer in his chest and yours is no different. As he explores your mouth with his tongue, your fingers tug his shirt from his jeans. You graze the warm skin of his waist and back.

As his hands grab your hips possessively, your toes curl. There’s no time to breathe. All you can manage is a pathetic whimper when Jungkook bites down on your lip and runs his tongue across it. Kissing him is oddly foreign, in the most delicious way.

Diving in again, Jungkook grants you more leverage to kiss him back. One of your hands slide into his hair, reaching on your tiptoes to do so. There’s a brief smile from him. Followed by him hoisting you up on the counter without breaking the kiss. No, you’re too busy tracing the piece of jewellery in his mouth as it clacks against your teeth.

It’s wet. Sloppy. And you’re certain that it’s noisy. But all you can hear right now is the rushing of your heart and the rough sounds that come from him. He parts your thighs, pressing himself right up against your centre and — fuck. It’s just right, the way he presses the seam of your jeans into you.

Your mouth falls from him, unable to stave off your air for any longer. Jungkook seems unfazed, tongue tracing your bottom lip to break the string of saliva that connected you. “Kook,” you breathe heavily.

He smirks, nosing along your cheekbone as your nails digging into his back. Tantalised, you hold your breath. Expecting the harsh graze of his teeth just below your jaw. You know it’ll mark, especially when he presses his lips over the same sport and suckles at it until you're shaking in his hold.

By now his hands have slipped under your shirt, fingers digging into your bare waist. His fingertips are rough, like everything about him but his lips. They’re soft and you hate it. He shouldn’t be allowed to kiss you like this.

Still, you let him kiss back up to your lips. You moan into him. The way he passes any of the kisses and hesitation. He licks into your mouth like you’ve been doing this for ages. Tongue gliding along yours, making you want more. You will need it, when he parts. Ache for his mouth again as you pull him unimaginably closer.

A moan falls from both of you as you grind down, and somehow it pulls you back to reality. The reality where you’re sitting on the front desk of the shop. Right by the windows. Where everyone can see.

The reality where Jungkook yelled at you mere minutes ago.

“Jungkook,” you whisper against his mouth. A shiver rakes through your body when he moves to kiss your neck. “Jungkook, stop.”

Those words stop him immediately. He looks up. “Everything okay?” His chest rises and falls against yours.

You nod, placing your hands firmly on his chest. The accidental brush of your palm against one of his piercing causes his breath to hitch. “Just,” you eyes flicker between where he stands between your legs and the large, open windows, “maybe we shouldn’t...you know?”

Jungkook’s hands smooth down your arms, sending goosebumps in his wake. “This is not the part where I tell you we can go to the back. Is it?”

“No,” you whisper.

When his hands fall from your body, you feel cold, empty. You reach for him, grabbing him by the wrist. “Hey, I want this. But maybe we need to let everything cool down a little.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, lips swollen, hair a mess. “Yeah.” His voice is firm, paired with a deep sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry. For getting so mad at you, I should’ve asked before making assumptions.”

A smile tugs at your lips. You hop off the counter, leaning up to press your lips against his. “It’s alright. No hard feelings.” saying that, you feel relieved from all the tension. Knowing that Jungkook wants you — likes you — makes your stomach flutter.

“Can I get a ride?” Jungkook grimaces at the pouring rain. “I don’t want to get soaked again.”

“Yeah of course, silly.”

To be honest, it was a futile attempt. Both of you don’t make it to the car with a single dry inch on your body. You just hope it’s not going to ruin your seats, that’d be an expensive joke.

Jungkook coughs when you start the engine, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. You turn to give him a look, but there’s no way for you to miss the obvious erection he's sporting.

“Are you really hard right now?”

“I’m still hard, for your information.” He groans, letting his head fall back. “It’ll go away.” The smile that stretches over his lips it too telling. “Or you can help me.” It’s barely a mumble but you can catch it.

“Jungkook!” you spit.

“I know, I know.”

There’s a calm mood in your apartment, Yoongi’s music softly emanating from his room next to yours. Not a single fibre in your body wants to have this conversation with him. Not again. But you have to. Even if it’s for the fact that you need to let him know he doesn’t have to lie to you about these things. That you’re not disappointed in him.

“Hey, you’re home late. I was starting to get worried about you.” Yoongi appears from his room, already dressed in black sweats and an oversized grey sweater. “Everything okay?”

You want to nod, but choose not to. “Can we talk?”

He freezes up, fingers clenching into fists. “Why?”

Because you lied to me. Because you didn’t tell Jungkook and it almost ruined my chances with him as a result. “Just please sit, so we can talk. I promise I’m not mad at you, Yoon.” The nickname seems to be enough incentive for him to nod and take a hesitant seat at your small dining table.

You sit across from him, chest heavy and uncertain of whether this is the right moment to do this. He nervously traces the pattern of the worn down, brown table, his sleeve tattoo peeking out as he does.

“Yoongi, why did you lie to me about coming out to Jungkook?”

Abruptly, he stills. “Did Hobi tell you?”

“How I found out doesn’t matter right now okay. I just want to know why you weren’t honest about it with me.” You watch your older brother as he avoids your gaze. He sinks back into his chair and purses his lips.

Part of you feels like hugging him, telling him it’s okay. But it’s not. Not really. Your brother has been through so much, and you understand this is hard for him. That your parents basically casting him out is why he is so afraid that everybody will reject him. But logically he should know that Jungkook won’t care that he’s gay. Taehyung is, and they’ve been friends for almost their entire lives. Hoseok and Jimin as bi. Jungkook might be the straightest guy you know, but that doesn’t say much.

“Yoongi, I’m not mad at you. You can be honest with me, I want to help.”

“I’m scared,” he says, very matter-of-factly. “I’m scared. That’s it. I don’t have any other real excuse.”

“That’s not an excuse, Yoongi. It’s a legitimate reason for not telling him, regardless of how often Hoseok and I have told you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Yoongi shakes his head, black hair falling into his eyes. Still, he avoids your gaze. “I was scared that you’d be disappointed. That’s why I haven’t told you.”

“Yoongi...” Your heart aches for him. Even through this, your brother has always been the bravest person you know. He’s built what he has from nothing. He was merely sixteen when he moved out, barely had a degree. You were just eighteen when you showed up on his doorstep unannounced with a suitcase and a request to move in with him. He’d fought so hard to make ends meet for both of you until you’d found a job. Yoongi’s always fought for you. You just wish he’d fight for himself too. “I would never be disappointed with you. Ever.”

He finally looks at you, tears showing at the corners of his eyes. They shine regardless, as he look at you as if you’re his only lifeline. “Don’t you want me to tell him?”

You take Yoongi’s hand from where it lies limply on the table. The small sun tattoo stands out against the bare skin of his wrist. It matches the moon on yours.

Rubbing you finger over his tattoo, you speak to him softly: “I do want you to tell him, but not for me. Or for Hoseok. I want you to tell him for yourself. Once you’ve told him I think you will feel much better. You and Hobi won’t have to hide anymore, and you’ll all be able to be comfortable around each other.” You squeeze his hand. “It’ll give you strength, Yoongi. Telling people instead of letting them find out.”

A tear slips from his eyes, and you hold your breath awaiting his answer. This is why you’ve always looked up to Yoongi. He’s not afraid to show his emotions to those he trusts, even if he trusts a very small number of people. Yoongi is the one who showed you that it’s okay to not be okay, hence the moon tattoo on your own wrist. He has the sun, to signify that you’re the brightness in his days. Or well, that’s how he said it.

“Will you go with me?” he asks. “To tell him?”

It might not be the greatest idea, especially since you and Jungkook are in whatever situation you are in now. But also because this is technically not something that concerns you. If he wants you to go, you’ll go, but there’s a better choice. “I think you should ask Hoseok. That way you can kill two birds with one stone.”

“You really think so?”

You nod.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing your hand and squeezing it in return. “Thank you. For always being here to remind me of how stupid I am.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that,” you chuckle.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “You were thinking it.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Am not!”

“Are too, Yoongi. It’s a bad habit.”

“It’s a bad habit,” he mocks with a scrunched up face. “Whatever, I’ll call Hoseok tonight.”

You smile. “Promise?”

“On one condition.”

With both eyebrows raised you await his condition that will most likely make you want to strangle him. You know your brother. His requests are never to make you comfortable. If anything he’s relentlessly able to tease you just enough to make you want to murder him, but not enough to actually justify it. A skill to behold.

“Please tell me whether you coming home an hour late and that disgustingly obvious hickey on your neck are in any way related.”

Your stomach jumps at his comment, hand immediately covering  the spot under your ear where Jungkook had laid his claim. “I...”

He gives you a knowing look. If one thing was true about Yoongi it’s that he knows you, through and through. You and him are like peas in a pod and sadly there’s not much wiggle room in said pod. Said pod left no space for you to hide your obvious attraction to his friend.

“Oh God, Y/N,” Yoongi gives you a disgusted look. “No. Not at the shop. I know that Hoseok and Jungkook clean that place religiously, but still. I sit on those stools too! You heathens.”

Your face is red hot as you try to find the words before he can get any more ideas. “We — no, we didn’t fuck, okay. Please just calm down.”

Yoongi sighs, a breath of relief. “Good, because like — I’ve eaten at those tables. I don’t need to accidentally touch Jungkook’s lefto—“

“OKAY! I get it, I get it! We didn’t fuck. I swear.”

“Wait. Not at all?”

“Nope.”

He groans, throwing his head back. “Does that mean I need to sit through another week of gruelling sexual tension. Do I really need to be subjected to this another week? Like I have an actual fear that the two of you will at one point climb over the table and devour each other while I’m right there!”

You get up. “Okay, this conversation is over.” Honestly, you would tell him what actually happened this afternoon. About Jungkook thinking you cheated on Hoseok. But telling your brother that will just make him fear that Jungkook’s already figured out that him and Hoseok are together. “It’s your day to cook today, by the way.”

Then, he pouts. “Hey, no! I was sad today, can’t you cook? I deserve comfort food!” As a grown man, your brother’s ability to whine about little things is slightly concerning. But he will only do so at his advantage. No, whenever a time comes that Min Yoongi must adult on you, he will be an adult. And when he wants things from you, he will whine.

“Not after you called me a heathen,” you sing-song. A kiss to the top of his head and a ruffle to his already messy hair is enough to send him into a fit.

“I’m older than you! Only older siblings get to ruffle heads!”

“I’m in the mood for beef stir-fry. Oh,” you say, turning around to look at his offended form in the kitchen, “don’t forget to call Hoseok while you’re at it. If you don’t,” you smile, “I will let Jungkook fuck me,” pause, narrowing your eyes, “on our kitchen counter.”

Utter scandalisation, Yoongi’s mouth falls open. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I don’t know, Jungkook seems like a guy who’s up for anything. I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Next Wednesday, you and Yoongi are arguably late to Taehyung’s birthday dinner at Hoseok and Jungkook’s apartment. Not that it’s a problem though. Jimin’s still fussing around in the kitchen with Hoseok’s help and Jungkook is nowhere to be found.

Jungkook, who’d been hitting up your phone the entirety of the two days you hadn’t seen each other. Including various attempts of sexting that you had to shut down because you were either in class or with your brother.

“Finally, Yoongi, I need your help.” Hoseok turns, hands covered in what appears to be some red marinade. “Come here.”

You smile as Hoseok kisses Yoongi before anything else. It’s good to know that they can now be themselves. The two hadn’t wasted another day to tell Jungkook about their relationship. He took it well. Aside from sending you a very exasperated text about the whole ordeal, calling himself a dumbfuck. Something you wholeheartedly agreed to.

Jimin’s busy chopping something, and you can just see the glint of silver ring that sits snugly around his bottom lip. He can’t wear it to work, the same way your brother has to take out his nose ring every time.

Yoongi’s commitment to Hoseok had been clear when he’d taken out both his lip piercings for his boyfriend. The other’s terrible fear of the things made kissing a bit of an issue. It was how you knew that even through their fighting, they’d be in for the long run. Especially because Hoseok decided to learn to live with Yoongi’s nose ring.

Taehyung’s reading a book in the living room, he hasn’t acknowledged your presence yet. Jimin apparently gave him all hell for being so rude to you, so you hope he’s not mad with you anymore.

“Oh,Y/N,” Hoseok says suddenly. “Kook’s probably in the bathroom.”

You frown. “Okay?”

The redhead gives you a flat expression. “You’ve been standing in the middle of the room for the past five minutes. Just go and talk to him or something.” He realises his words. “No, not or something. Only talking!” he calls after you. “No fucking in my bathroom!”

You wave him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

True to Hoseok’s words, Jungkook is in the bathroom that hides in the back of their apartment. The open door lets you quietly peek around the corner. What you find is a little more than you bargained for.

Jungkook stands in front of the mirror. Clad in ripped, black skinny jeans and a deep maroon and black flannel with what seems to be Urban Outfitters version of tribal designs on the sleeves. Said shirt hangs open, and the way he has his hands in his hair to pull it up leaves no inch of his toned chest covered.

Your own stomach flutters as his abdominal muscles shift. His nipple piercings glimmer in the harsh lighting. The way they had felt against your own chest Monday — you remember. You remember how he’d kissed you, held you, ground against you. How h—

“Hello to you too,” he chuckles with a bobby pin between his teeth. His eyes hold nothing similar to the softness of that chuckle.

Once you gaze up from his lips you find his eyes heavy — dark — as he takes you in. This is familiar, this gaze. It sends shivers down your spine, ones that you struggle to repress.

“Hey,” you breathe, voice low. There’s nothing to be ashamed about, he’s openly letting you watch him. The way he smiles, exposing the piercing under his top lip, says that he’s enjoying it. Loves it. You’re certainly not going to complain.

Not with the way you can see every muscle in his torso as he moves, struggling to get the small pin into his mess of black hair. His skin is almost golden in this light. Warm, enticing. You yearn to touch him. Trail your fingers down his pectorals and feel the ridges of his abs. Hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Pull him against you. Kiss him.

Jungkook’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, faint dimples appearing in his cheeks. He’s no longer watching you watching him. But he can feel your lingering stares. It’s evident in the way he takes his time. How he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders to expose the large, intricate dragon tattoo that curls around his bicep. Every scale is detailed as it’s wing spread over his shoulder for the head to rest on his collarbone.

The longer you watch, the further your mind drifts. Thinking of kissing that exact spot where his collarbone dips, tracing your tongue up to sink your teeth into the skin of his earlobe. What sound would he make? Jungkook has proven to be a moaner, but there might be more than meets the eye.

You know he’s rough. The feeling of his fingers digging into your hips had lasted for long after you’d parted. You know that the sounds he makes go straight to your core. How he growls, groans, grits his teeth. His —

His tongue piercing.

The glint of it in the light catches your eye. You’re drawn to it. How such a small thing could have this effect on you. He knows how to use it and you haven't even felt the worst. The quirk of his eyebrow as he exposes it purposely tells you that much. He’s taunting you.

Your entire mouth goes dry when he scrapes his teeth over his lip again, holding your gaze steady through the mirror. Chest rising with a shaky breath on your part, he ever so slightly tilts his head. A smirk paired with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“What?” Your stomach flutters.

He shakes his head with a lopsided smile. When he turns you come face to face with his chest. It’s not as easy to openly stare this directly. Without the barrier of the mirror your words are lost to you.

You swallow, following his hands as they start to button his shirt. A sight that’s equally enticing and saddening. Watching the stretch of his chest disappear behind the fabric, narrow waist no longer apparent. You can’t help but notice the roughness of his fingers. You’ve felt it. They’re calloused, never used sparingly for anything. A small tattoo hides there, one not easily spotted with how the koi fish draw all attention to them.

Euphoria is etched into the side of his middle finger. A tattoo you’ve seen time and time again, but you don’t know it’s meaning. The dragon symbolises strength, power, will, and the koi fish represent balance. He’s even spoken to you about the tarot cards on the inside of his upper arm, that one drunken night in your living room. The reverse magician for untapped potential, the upright eight of pentacles for mastery and honing skills. Yet, the small word on his finger raises a question for you.

Jungkook suddenly grabs you. You would’ve screamed if his mouth didn’t silence you.

He shuts the door behind you, pressing you against it with enough force to knock the breath from your chest. Tongue licking into your mouth you mewl, grappling for something to hold onto. Your fingers automatically loop into his belt.

With a hand behind your head he angles you up, grants himself access to your warm mouth. You arch into him, every nerve on edge. Every sound distorted by the way he kisses you so deeply you can barely fight for control. No, he’s got you in the palm of his hand, literally. One hand sliding to your ass, digits slipping into your pockets to hold you tight.

Jungkook lets out a deep sound, one that rumbled in his chest and pulls an equally ruined moan from you. His lips are pressing, demanding, speaking ‘you are mine’ into yours. ‘I want you. Now’.

Still stunned, you tighten your fingers into his belt, trying to kiss him back but getting lost in his ministrations. The leather material is tough, but you manage to get him closer. A thigh between yours, you shift your hips up to find friction for both of you.

The kiss is beyond messy. Both needy for oxygen but needier for each other. Breaths mingle and the way he runs his tongue over your top teeth causes a lewd yet startling sound.

“Fuck,” you grumble, breaking from him suddenly.

His eyes remain closed as he licks his lips. “I’ll second that statement,” he whispers hotly, “sitting on the sink or bent over it?”

You choke on your own spit, causing him to finally open his eyes and come back from wherever his mind had wandered. “Jungkook!”  

“What? That was a very serious statement.”

“Not with everybody on the other side of the door!”

He grins, tonguing his smiley piercing in a habit that has driven you crazy so often. “Fine.” Straightening up, he swiftly tucks his shirt back into his jeans where it’d come undone under your hands. “Just so you know,” he says, leaning into your ear and opening the door, “all you gotta do is say the word and my room’s right there. I’ll find a way to silence those pretty little moans of yours.”

All the hair on the back of your neck springs up at his words. The way his breath fans out over your ear, lips just shy of grazing you. Tongue darting out, brushing the shell of your ear. You have no reply but a shaky intake of breath.

He leaves, and you’re left to stare at your disheveled form in the large mirror. Hair tangled, you curse under your breath. Jungkook probably won’t mind if you borrow his brush if he has no problems basically swallowing you whole, right?

With the hair at the back of your head finally in place again, you shake your feelings. You can't let Jungkook just play you like that with no repercussions. Two can play this game.

This is how you find yourself walking back into the room, briefly receiving a knowing look from Jimin. You pay him no mind. All you do is glance at the obvious space beside your brother and Hoseok, who now sit at ease in each other’s embrace. Yet, there’s one spot that’s more inviting.

Jungkook knows what you’re up to as soon as you look at him. He narrows his eyes, but you unsuspiciously smile as you take place in his lap as if it’s the most normal thing to do.

Everybody is thinking something, briefly glancing at how you comfortably shift on his thighs. Jungkook himself is less displeased than you’d thought, one hand coming to rest on your leg. Beneath you, you can feel the hard muscles of his thighs and you wonder what it’d be like to ride them.

“Now that everybody is here,” Jimin says, “we can finally do what we came here to do.”

All eyes turn to Taehyung, who gives a deep annoyed sigh. You all know there’s no way around Jimin’s plans. What Jimin wants, Jimin gets. That includes Taehyung, Gucci slippers, and the present that will make his boyfriend very happy even though he’d never admit it. It doesn’t come wrapped in anything big. And as to Taehyung’s wishes, there’s also no singing happy birthday. But the light blue envelope which Jimin retrieves from his bag are enough to make the other’s eyes grow wide like saucers.

Taehyung’s name is written on the front, and he looks at it as if it’s foreign. “I said I didn’t want anything.”

Jungkook fingers suddenly start moving — possibly absentmindedly — trailing the outer edge of your jeans. It tickles. His other hand is placed beside him, keeping him steady as he supports you. There’s enough room for you to squirm but you don’t want to draw attention to yourself. Or the fact that Jungkook is nosing the back of your neck and shoulders. His breath fanning down your shirt and over your back.

“You did say that,” Jimin says, pecking Taehyung’s lips. “But you also said there is something you do want. You just didn’t mention it in regards to your birthday.”

The younger man frowns, sitting up a little straighter and running a nervous hand through his black hair. “Jimin.”

“It’s a present from all of us, Tae,” Jungkook speaks up, fingers falling from your leg.

The second everyone looks away again from the man who’s currently trailing his lips dangerously close to your skin, you shift. Immediately Jungkook’s hands reach for your hips that now sit flush with his. There’s no space left and he can’t do much more than rest his chin on your shoulder with a trembling breath.

You try to concentrate on Taehyung opening the envelope. Somebody speaks, but you don’t catch it over Jungkook’s quiet swear.

“I...” Taehyung’s uncertainty shows, frowning at the piece of paper. Reading every word carefully at least twice. “What is this?” He looks up, giving everyone the same confused expression. Jimin’s sitting on the armrest beside him, trying his hardest to hold back the tears.

Luckily, Hoseok hasn’t lost his ability to speak. Unlike Jungkook who’s gripping your hips like a vice. “Jimin told us that you’ve been wanting to get a tattoo removed and covered. So we all chipped in to get you a laser-removal appointment.”

Taehyung’s still looking at the paper as if it might catch on fire, but he nods quietly. “You all did this? For me?”

Jimin makes an excited noise. “He means to say thank you.” He grabs his boyfriend, kissing him firmly on the cheek, mumbling a congratulations amidst the embrace. “We all want you to be happy, Tae.”

The man nods again. “Thank you, really.”

After a moment of awkward silence, Hoseok gets up first. Preventing the disaster of things getting uncomfortable and preventing Taehyung from shedding the obvious tears that brim his eyes. “Okay, let's all eat. Come on.”

Getting up, Jungkook’s hands stop you immediately. He keeps you tight, grumbling for you to stay put. You chuckle. Talking big game, sure. But his amusement has faded now that you have returned the favour. He doesn’t let go until everyone’s turned to the table.

You stand, swing in your step. Only turning around to catch Jungkook untucking his shirt to shield his very obvious erection from view.

“Really, Jeon?” you whisper with a giggle.

He clicks his tongue. “You want to tell me you’re not wet right now?”

You look straight at him as you lie: “I am not.”

Jungkook merely smirks, starting towards the table but stopping to whisper: “Good girls don’t tell lies.”

You shiver, breath hitching as you watch him sit down as if he hadn’t just said that. Getting on the upper hand on this guy is impossible, he’s just prepared to go one step further every time. But you’re not ready to give up just yet.

As much as you lied. As much as your need for him is rapidly increasing. You’re not going to let those words sink in. If anything you can prove him wrong. Good girl. What a joke. Maybe.

Everybody sits, chatting comfortably as the table-top grills warm up. An array of food sits on the large table. Chicken, beef, squid, side-dishes, Taehyung’s favourite red bean paste, and Jimin’s home-made secret-recipe dipping sauce. There’s way too much food, but nobody will complain about that.

“Hey Jungkook,” Jimin starts, “how is that whole situation with the guy from Australia going?”

Jungkook sighs. “Not too great to be fair, it’s nearly impossible to find a proper date that suits us both.” For the past two months Jungkook’s been trying to get an internship with an artist he admires. They’ve gotten in touch through instagram, and he’s been beyond excited. Talks of him going to Australia for a month keep getting more serious.

“You’re not going,” Hoseok says with a mouth full of food, “unless you’re trading with someone. I can’t man the shop alone and you know it. It’ll be bad for business.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook shrugs it off. “Anyway, he said it’ll most likely happen next summer if anything. We will see.”

Yoongi coughs, sipping water to rinse down the extensive spices. “Jimin, that sauce of yours. It gets me every time.”

“It’s good!” you and Jungkook interject in unison, causing everybody to shoot you a weird look.

“What?” you question. “Actually, give me some more.” You lean over, firmly planting your hand on Jungkook’s thigh without thinking about it. Leaning over, It lands closely enough to the top that you can feel that he’s still hard — if not harder than before.

He chokes on his food, taking a deep breath through his nose.

You sit back down, but your hand remains in position. His thigh tenses under your touch, warm, trembling as you drag your nails up like he’d done to you earlier. Whatever conversation currently plays goes straight in one ear and out the other for you. One hand busy dipping slightly charred chicken into the small bowl of red sauce, the other squeezing Jungkook’s leg.

He can’t do anything. Not without making it obvious what you’re doing. So he shifts, legs falling open and giving you access you weren’t expecting. Possibly on accident. Or in the hopes that you will actually touch him. Your heart races, but your body gets the better of you. As does your curiosity.

The second your fingers touch the head of his dick through his jeans, he jerks. Sitting up straight and snapping his legs closed.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung questions.

You shoot him an equally confused look, playing your part. “Everything okay?”

From the other end of the table Jimin looks at you with raised eyebrows. A gesture which you return with glee.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, “just bit my tongue.”

Smooth. Either everyone believes him, or they all know but unanimously decide to not speak and continue the dinner as normal. Even Jungkook seems to have decided to not reciprocate your touch this time. Both hands above the table, sitting with his legs spread as before.

You cross yours, realising that you are still turned on as you do. “So, now that everybody knows about how Hoseok is dating my brother. Can I like ask for asylum so that I won’t have to get my ears assaulted anymore?”

Jimin snorts. “You poor thing.” He raises his chopsticks, pointing at Jungkook. “I’m certain you can arrange something with him. You know. You sleep with him, Hoseok sleeps with Yoongi.” No filter. Jimin’s absolute inability to not say certain things strikes again. Your cheeks run red.

To your surprise, Jungkook doesn't react.

“Okay,” Yoongi interjects. “Can we please not talk about my little sister having sex.”

“Hey!” You point your utensils at him. “I’ve had to listen to Hoseok literally pound you into the mattress more times than I’m comfortable to admit. You guys have no decency, why should I—“

Jungkook’s fingers snaking into your waistband shuts you up. “How about we just don’t talk about people fucking at the dinner table. I mean we—“

“You’re one to speak Jeon!” Hoseok cuts in. “I’ve heard you often enough. I’m not sure what kinda shit you’re into but she should consider this her official warning if you haven’t given her one yet.”

His words don’t quite impact you. Not with the way that Jungkook starts gently rubbing circles over your exposed hipbone. His fingers still hooked tightly into your jeans, holding you from moving. The touch to your skin is barely there, but it’s enough to put him on your mind the entire time. To make sure you don’t forget the wetness between your legs that he’s causing.

Jungkook is idly engaged in the banter, and all you can think off is his fingers on your skin. What’d be like to feel them elsewhere. Deeper. Rougher.

You uncross your legs, try to relax. To get your mind off the way he tugs you just a little bit closer. Close enough to be able to hook his foot around your ankle and spread your legs wider. Why would he — His hand comes down just above your knee.

Every breath you take is a feat, you’re hyper aware of how you sit, how he touches you. This is payback. He doesn’t move his palm, it just rests there like a threat. Or a claim that you’re his.

“Y/N?” Yoongi asks

You shake awake. “Yeah?”

“I was saying,” he trails, “that once you’re done with school, we could all try to go on a holiday together.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds good. Like, far?”

Everybody starts protesting, complaining about money and fears to fly. Jimin and Taehyung both counter Hoseok’s offer to take a longer flight to a further destination. But Yoongi feels that staying inside the country defeats the purpose of a holiday.

You? You just want Jungkook to take his hand off your leg. Not slowly start trailing it up, but there’s no stopping him. Not without swatting at him, or likely trapping his hand between your thighs. The latter situation seems too dangerous.

So you let Jungkook move his hand agonisingly slow until it reaches the juncture of your thighs. Here, he stops.

Luckily you’re not the only one who still feels like they’re bursting at the seams. Jungkook’s still hard, bouncing one of his legs and shifting in his seat twice before suddenly getting up.

He excuses himself to go to the bathroom, but not before trailing a finger along the back of your collar. Little shit. Is he really going to rub one out in the bathroom right now?

Your mind immediately wanders to the visual. Jungkook standing over the bathroom sink, gripping it hard as the other hand slides up and down his length in fast, practiced motions.

Jimin distracts you from this though, asking you about your current study. You do your best to give him coherent answers, but your mind keeps floating back to Jungkook. Dampness between your legs growing fast.

Should you go after him? Maybe that’s what he wants. His earlier offer ringing through your mind, “I’ll find a way to silence those pretty little moans of yours.” Crossing your legs again gives you some friction. Core throbbing even though he’s barely touched you over the course of an hour.

You’re so worked up that when he finally returns you can feel the heft of his eyes on you. He doesn’t touch you, but his presence alone is enough to make you tense. The feeling of anticipation sits heavy in your stomach. It makes you jittery, in a good way. but you’re oh so impatient, fingers itching to touch him, feel him, taste him. It’s a thirst.

It distracts you fully from the dessert. When you look over to Jungkook he’s tonguing at his smiley piercing. Quickly, you avert your eyes back to your plate as if it’s gonna burst into pieces if you don’t.

True to character, you end up getting sticky caramel sauce all over the side of your hand. You lick it off, not thinking much of it but aware of how Jungkook’s watching you. No, you can’t eye-fuck him while everybody is there.

Never have you been so relieved for a dinner to end. Everyone’s getting up and helping to get the dishes in the sink. They’ll be washed later, or tomorrow. Now, you‘re going to go out to a local bar. Maybe there you and Jungkook can get some privacy — or get laid. Whichever way you want to put it. At this point you don’t care about where it happens anymore.

Jungkook lingers by the door, purposely waiting for everybody to leave the apartment under the pretence of having to lock the door. Yet the second the door just falls closed, the first thing he does is grab and entire handful of your ass and squeezes. Hard.

“Shit.” The words slip from your mouth and everyone turns back to look at you. You stare blankly ahead for a few seconds, Jungkook walking past you. He’s easily stopped by you inconspicuously grabbing the back of his shirt. “Is today the twenty-ninth?”

Yoongi looks at his phone. “Yeah, why?”

The lie is easily constructed. “I have a paper to hand in tomorrow at 10am. Fuck. I forgot to send it in early.” You cast your eyes up towards Jungkook, hoping he catches on. “Can I borrow your laptop? I promise I’ll be fast.”

“Yeah,” he answer quickly, “sure.” Jungkook gives his friends a look. “We’ll be right out, don’t wait up for us.”

The other four men are silent, and you know how fucking stupid you look. How obvious it is. But if anybody dares open their mouth about it, you’ll just admit the truth at this point.

“Okay,” Hoseok shrugs, his answer enough to make the others follow him.

Jungkook’s quick to turn towards the apartment, hands fumbling with the key. Only Jimin turns around to look at you. The blonde wiggles his eyebrows, pushing his tongue in his cheek twice coupled with a swift motion of his hand.

You flip him off, holding up your middle finger and turning back to Jungkook.

The door swings open, your stomach tightening with excitement. Hands slightly trembling from the nerves but you get no time to waste a thought on it. To even think about what’s going to happen.

He’s all over you the second the door falls closed. Barely inside. Kissing open-mouthed, hands fumbling for clothes. He untucks your shirt from your jeans, pushing your cardigan off. You struggle with the buttons on his flannel.

The kiss is filled with impatience. You want this. Now. The sounds that fall from both of you are swallowed by the lewd noises of your tongues. You give him no slack this time. Determined, you press into him, promptly tearing the last two buttons off as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

He moans as you trace his tongue piercing — louder when you bite and suck at his bottom lip. You let yourself revel in the sounds just a little, fingers finally tracing the ridges of his abs. Tweaking a nipple piercing, Jungkook lets out the most strangled whine you’ve yet heard from him and you smile into the kiss.

Suddenly you feel your jeans slack against your waist. “Off?” he asks, thumbs already hooked into your waistband. Your own fingers sliding his belt out of the loop.

“Now,” you growl into the kiss.

Your jeans and panties are at your ankles in seconds, and you  kick them to some corner of the hallway. Jungkook doesn’t linger. Doesn’t gaze up at your now fully exposed cunt from his brief position on his knees. He just grabs you by the back of your thighs and hoists you up around his waist when he stands again.

Like this, the rough material of his jeans rubs against you, making you hiss. It’s good, rough, but good. He knows, smirking into another wet, sloppy kiss. You have no mind for the way your teeth clash. Too busy trying to undo his buttons and zipper between your bodies. Like this you can feel your own wetness slip against your wrist.

“I still can’t believe,” Jungkook mumbles, suddenly hoisting you up even further, “that you,” he bites at a nipple through your shirt, “chickened out on the other nipple piercing.”

You let out a dry chuckle that dies off into a string of moans as he pushes up your shirt and starts mouthing at your chest. He pays special attention to the one nipple that’s pierced. Pressing his tongue into it, followed by a breath of cold air. You shiver, toes curling as he holds you tightly against the wall.

“Not every—everybody,” you pant as he teases your nipple with his tongue, flicking it with his piercing, “is into pain like you, Jeon.”

He lets out a short laugh, mumbling something into your breast that sounds like a version of ‘not now,’ as he sucks a bruise into your skin. You must look like a mess, you think as you slide your fingers through his hair. Marks blooming. Bare centre pressed against his abdomen as he's using all his strength to keep you up in this position.

“Jungkook,” you whine, voice pitching a little too high. “Put it in, or I’ll chop it off and show you pain.” Like this, you can’t feel his dick. But you know he’s hard. He still was when you undid his jeans. It must be painful at this point. Especially with how you’re rubbing your wetness all over his stomach.

He groans, bracing a hand against the wall. “Hold on to something.”

You grapple for his shoulder as you tighten your hand around his waist. The other hand finds one of the coat hangers on the wall beside you. “Fuck,” you realise how hard this is. How’s he keeping you up?

Within seconds, Jungkook manages to pull a condom from his back pocket. Uncanny. Prepared and ready to go. You internally praise him for it. He holds you pressed against the wall as he tears it open and slides it on. A pained moan falls as he touches himself after being hard for so long. The sound is delicious, his head falling against your shoulder.

A thin sheen of sweat already coats your bodies. Shirt plastered to your skin, Jungkook’s fringe starting to stick to his forehead. But he shows no mercy.

His hands now come down to your ass, and your arms start shaking from holding yourself up.

The first initial brush of the head of his cock against your centre has you clench up. Excitement rushing through your body. Finally, after hours, days, months, you feel him. You moan. “Jungkook please.” The position doesn’t allow you to shift. To sink down onto him on your own accord.

He knows this. Letting out controlled breaths as he finally starts letting you down. There’s no resistance because of how wet you are. Your nails dig into his shoulder, his sink deeper into the flesh of your ass. Every single twitch of your core has him shuddering, but you can’t help it. The relief that floods your body at finally feelings him is insane.

You feel like a teenager, on edge this easily. At this point, your arms really start burning, and you try to shift. “Jung—FUCK!” The coat hanger snaps, breaking off the wall and causing you to lose your hold and sink down on him, fast.

In shock, Jungkook catches you and slams you against the wall. Your head knocks back, and Jungkook lets out a harsh breath through his nose as he bottoms out. “You good?”

Laughing, you nod, causing him to smile sheepishly despite the fact that you almost literally fell on his dick. “Please just,” you shift your hips a little to search out any friction, “move. Please move.”

Jungkook obliges, pressing his entire body up against yours. Pulling out, he slides back in to the hilt with one smooth thrust and you can‘t even form a noise. Your moan dies off in your throat, eyes closing at the feeling. The angle makes you feel every single inch of him, so deep. Pressed right up against your g-spot from the get-go. You shiver, clench, making him shudder.

“Fuck,” he growls, “so wet.”

Nails digging into his shoulders, you edge him on. Clenching and shifting to get him to finally just move. And move he does. Though the position doesn’t allow for more than him rutting straight into your most sensitive spot and sending you into a frenzy.

High pitched moans and deep grunts fill the hallway, your shirt protecting you from the harsh rub of the wall. All you can feel is his cock moving snug inside of you. Minimal friction, but maximum contact, you feel him twitch every time.

It’s hot. Suffocating. Having him this close. It’s delirious, toe-curling. You’re a mess, head thrown back as he just keeps moving. His pelvic bone rubbing right into your clit when he changes angle and— oh. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he answers, smiling into your neck. “I—“ he pauses to curse loudly, not stopping his movements. “I’m not gonna last.”

You barely hear him, whining in the back of your throat.

“I’m serious,” he repeats, licking up the side of your neck. “I’m close.”

Can you care? You feel like you’re on the edge, but also nowhere near your end. But in the haze of pleasure you nod, finding his lips as you try to not lose the feeling. “Don’t stop.” Holding him tight, you push his flannel of his shoulder for better purchase. “Don’t,” you lick over his bottom lip, “stop.”

Jungkook moans — a loud sound — as you find purchase to meet his movements. He moans, your cunt suddenly tighter, sucking him in. It takes only two, three more thrusts before he stills and comes so hard he nearly drops you. His entire body shudders as he twitches inside your walls. Your legs slip down, supporting your own weight before you actually tumble.

“Fuck.” He hides his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavy and wet against your chest. With his dick softening inside you, your core aches for more. Dripping still, you need friction. Release. “I’m — shit — wait.” Jungkook lets you down properly, slipping out of you. “Jesus, I’m so—“

You hush him, carding your fingers through his hair as he’s too embarrassed to meet your gaze. The empty feeling between your legs ignored for now. He’s hot, and his back and shoulders are covered in scratch marks. When he finally leans back you see his half-undone hair, his flushed skin. Eyes dark, lips red and swollen. A sight to behold.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, touching his chin to make him look up at you. Thumb running over his bottom lip, you press inside to feel the tip of his tongue. Deeper, to find his piercing. He responds lazily, sucking on your digit. “Why don’t you go down on your knees.” Your voice is a drawl, laced with the arousal that’s still burning through your veins like wildfire. “Show me that tongue piercing is more than a pretty accessory. Hmm?”

His eyes darken immediately. He gives you a taste of what you might expect, swirling his tongue around your thumb. Your stomach swoops, legs still shaky. Pulling off with a pop, he chuckles at your expression. “Let's get to the bedroom. I’m not gonna be able to hold you up while I eat you out.”

So casual. “I’m not afraid of you and your golden tongue medal Jungkook. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Jungkook makes a face, tongue swiping over this inside of his cheek in a habitual motion. A cocky one. “Okay, have it your way.”

Sinking to his knees, trailing down your thighs, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. That alone is enough to unbalance you with the way he licks and nips up your inner thigh. Goosebumps, everywhere. You can’t give in. Not when he hasn’t even—“Shit.” Jungkook goes straight for the jugular, teeth not-so-gently sinking into one of your folds as his thumb slides between them to find your soaked clit. His tongue follows immediately. The pressure of his piercing sudden, and your hand flies to his hair that’s still contained by the elastic.

“Jungk—Fuck.” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as he wraps his lips around your bud. Your body isn’t prepared.

There’s sudden, hard suction — no warning, no build-up. Jungkook sucks at you in bursts, at just the right angle where the ball in his tongue presses slightly left and — “Ah, shit, shi—fuck!” Your entire body starts vibrating, your high approaching so fast you lose control of your one leg that supports you. He expected it, because his assault stops just in time to catch you from toppling over on him.

He gazes up, lips and chin shiny, eyes glazed over and heavy-lidded. “Bed?”

All you can do is nod. Your mouth dry, breath trembling, legs jelly.

The two of you kiss when he stands and you taste yourself on his tongue ever so slightly. His bedroom isn’t far, but neither of you can let go. His hands sliding under your shirt, finally lifting it off your body. Immediately, his hand find your chest, touching, squeezing, tweaking. You moan, your own hands busy with pulling him along and tugging the last bobby pin from his hair.

Jungkook’s jeans are finally discarded when you enter his bedroom. Now less rushed, you see the floral pattern on his hip. You touch it, roses curling over his skin and disappearing under his boxers only to resurface on his thigh.

You’d take your time to trace him, remember him. but right now you’re too hungry for release. You can’t remember the last time you were this needy. This turned on. High-strung. Just thinking of his mouth has you shivering and rubbing your thighs together.

“On the bed,” Jungkook mumbles against your mouth as you kiss him. “Unless all you wanna do is make out for the rest of the night.”

You chuckle, smiling as he pushes you onto the bed and presses you against the dark covers. He seems gentle now, though your aware that what’s to come is anything but. He’s proven as much.

Back arching while he kisses down your chest, you let your own fingers roam the planes of his back. His skin is soft, ink dancing at the edges of your vision as he trails down your body. Teething at a nipple, scratching over your hip bones — Jungkook has you trembling by the time he reaches the apex of your thighs again.

You whine for mercy.

He smirks knowingly, as he breathes out over your folds. Not another second wasted, yet a teasing edge to his actions, as he lickes up your sex.

Shivering, your hands tighten in the sheets. His tongue is warm, pressing against your core while he uses a firm hand to spread your thighs further apart for him. Like that, he holds you open, pausing, breathing against you. The lack of contact lasts too long, and you shift. Canting your hips up for anything.

Eyes closed, you don’t see him move. You feel the nudge of his nose first and then... Cold. “Ah.” The press of his piercing right against your clit is ice cold and firm. Your entire body tenses up, legs nearly clamping down around his head. It’s downhill from there.

Jungkook holds you open with one hand, fingers painfully firm. He's in a controlled frenzy. Hard, swift, slurping, not a part left unattended as he pulls sounds from you, you weren’t aware you could make. The way he flicks the metal against your clit sends you keening. Back arches, painfully so with curled toes and tug at his hair — he groans. The vibrations going straight into your cunt, his tongue flattening.

He almost lets you rut up into his face. Your hands tightening into his locks, hips shifting up over his mouth. Jungkook moans into you, shoulder tensing and eyes closing. Like this, you get the fast friction you want, the build-up you need, the—

“Fuck.” His hand grabs your wrist, pulling you from his hair. “If you wanted to sit on my face, you could’ve just asked.”

Your core clenches at the thought. Him under you, gripping your thighs as you use his mouth for your own pleasure. Those dark, wide eyes looking up at you. All fucked-out. “Can I?”

He chuckles. “Absolutely not. You can use me next time. Tonight you’re mine.”

His. It falls off his tongue so easily, so deeply. You are his.

He dives back in, no longer stopped by the feeling of your hands pulling at his hair. No, he knows what to do now. Swiftly he slips a finger into your sopping core. The way he curls that one finger into you is as if he’s done it before.  You’re still sensitive from when he fucked you but he doesn’t care.

He knows he’s got you when your entire body starts shaking. You can’t stop it. The combination of his finger curling in and out of you, and his tongue rapidly circling your clit — it’s too much.

You whine loudly. Entire body on fire, tingles going down to your toes. There’s no way you’re not soiling his sheets. Him using the back of your hand to swipe over your core so he can gain purchase says enough.

His lips wrap around your clit again and he does that thing. That sucking, the flicking of his piercing. Warm, wet, rapid — this beats any toy you’ve ever used.

You can feel your high approaching like a freight train. A heavy weight in your lower abdomen. It hits you before you can even warn him. White flashes beneath your eyelids as you arch off the bed, hands pulling at the sheets.

He doesn’t stop. Gentle sucking and licking until you fall limp onto his sheets.

Eyes still closed, you’re vaguely aware of what’s happening. It’s like you’re floating, a strange, fuzzy feeling. He closes your legs, and you whimper his name with furrowed brows.

“I warned you,” he chuckles, lips pressing into your shoulder. “You didn’t listen to me.”

When you open your eyes he’s beside you, leaning on one arm. His fingers trail the shape of your chest, brushing over a very sensitive nipple. A leg slung over your limp ones. The line of his body — he’s gorgeous. Yours.

“Fine,” you sigh, “I’ll admit it.” His lips twitch up into a smile before you even finish your sentence. “You’ve ruined me. Now you’re stuck with me. I’ll never want anything but you and your devilish tongue for the rest of my life.”

Jungkook’s smile widens further, holding in a laugh as he reaches over to kiss your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for sweetheart,” he whispers, tongue darting out to touch yours. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he pulls you in, you can feel him. He’s rock hard against the juncture of your hip. Feeling him again...the thought makes you shudder. But you can also feel the sensitivity linger in your core. “No,” you squeal playfully when he rocks his hips into yours. Skin still separated by his boxers. “I need time to recuperate from all that!”

“You get ten minutes.” He nips at your chin, noses the line of your jaw. “I’ll show you what it really feels like to be ruined. We can discuss the rest of your life later.”

You grim, turning to capture his lips, legs intertwining further. “Yeah, Jeon? Gonna prove to me you’re not just a one pump guy?” The little giggle in your sentence conveys your teasing.

Jungkook’s hand grips your ass hard, pulling you flush against him. “Ten minutes are over, brat.”

An unpleasant tingling in your arm is what wakes you in the still-early morning. You sigh, shifting to feel the weight that rests over your shoulder. Jungkook.

Everything comes tumbling back. Him fucking you against the hallway wall, eating you out and making you see stars, and then fucking you again — twice. You screamed his name until you cried both of those times. The dull ache between your legs is the proof of it, as is the dryness in your throat.

Right now he lies asleep with his head on your shoulder, hair splayed messily over your skin. Your legs are twisted, and when you turn you can feel that he’s sporting a very serious hard on. “Jungkook,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair.

He groans, lips brushing your skin as he wakes. His arm tightens around your waist, fingers sending warmth up your spine. When he finally opens his eyes he blinks hard, once, twice, to look up at you with a wide, almost innocent gaze. Your heart skips as he looks up at you so softly. There’s a gleam in those big brown eyes as the sunlight catches them, almost making you forget all the sinful things he did to you.

“Morning,” he croaks.

“My arm.”

“Oh, shit,” he laughs, moving from his position. To your surprise, he ignores his obvious arousal even when it’s unceremoniously pressed against your leg. “Com’ere.” As much as yours, Jungkook’s voice is rough, tainted by your previous activities that went well into the depth of the night.

You let him pull you against him so that your cheek rests on his chest, his fingers carding through your hair. He kisses the top of your head, a warm gesture. Neither of you speak for a good while, almost drifting back to sleep as you bask in the gentle morning. There’s no more tension or heaviness between you. As much as the ‘what now’ question lingers on your tongue, you swallow it. Because you know.

Through the night both of your desires had become clear. Far beyond the point of lust. Jungkook growling that you’re his as his hips drive you into the mattress, and again when he kisses you tenderly after. You asking him if he’s yours, and receiving an affirmative nod as your mouth sank down on him.

No. You don’t need to have that conversation right now.

You reach out for his hand, brushing the euphoria tattoo on his middle finger. “Now I know why you got this tattooed here.”

Jungkook lets out a breath sound, humming into your hair. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget.” This less-sweet answer is paired with his other hand slipping down between your bare legs to brush your sensitive folds. “How ab—“

“Jungkook?!” Hoseok’s voice startles you both. Eyes widening with fear, hand clasping over your mouth.

“What?!” Jungkook calls back, hand coming back to your hip.

“Me and Yoongi are going out to get breakfast, do you want anything?” Your brother is here? Did they hear you?

Jungkook groans. “Where are you going?”

Your hand remains clasped over your mouth, but Jungkook doesn’t seem anything other than annoyed with his friend.

“The bakery,” Hoseok answers. “The one down south.”

“Just the usual then, and an americano.”

There’s a brief silence on the other side of the door, until... “Y/N? You want anything?”

Your face turns red, too shocked to really answer.

“She’ll have what I’m having,” Jungkook calls back with a smile.

“Hey!” You playfully shove at his chest. “I want a latte!” you call towards Hoseok.

“Sure,” Hoseok laughs. “Oh, by the way. One of you is paying for that coat hanger. And Y/N, your panties are cute but I’m not picking them off my floor.”

If you weren’t embarrassed to begin with, you sure are now. Neither of you went back to clean the mess you made in the hallway. Meaning that now only Hoseok saw, but your brother did too and—

There’s a scream “JEON JUNGKOOK! YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT!!” your brother wails, Jungkook’s entire body tightens up in response. He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

There’s a long silence, the sound of Hoseok muttering in the distance. You look up at the man beside you, confused. Jungkook’s face is drained of all colour. He known.

You’re about to open your mouth when Hoseok returns.

The door opens, and his voice carries in louder than before. “Jeon, if that nasty ass condom isn‘t gone by the time we get back, you owe me both halves of the rent. Capiche?”

Jungkook gulps. “Yeah.”

Hoseok slams the door shut, getting the message across. The both of you hold your breath until you hear the front door fall closed. Then you erupt into laughter, hands caressing bodies as tears appear in the corners of your eyes.

Jungkook shakes his head. “We have about half an hour,” he whispers, turning you so that you’re lying on top of him.

“I think we can clean up a hallway in less than that Jungkook.”

“Good,” he smirks, sliding your thighs apart so that his hard cock presses between your folds. Bare, no barriers. “Because I want you to ride me.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you thought, but don't send me any graphic or vulgar asks please. 

Special thanks to: @ayxxha @dee-ehn @spicykoreantatertots​ @taekooksfxck​ @sevenwho​ @sunshineangelhobi​ @hobisbeautifulass​ @thinksshesawolf​ @franklytae​ @softlyjiminie​ @out-of-jams​ @mygsii​ @joonsrack​ @namjooniebjonesuniverse​ (i'm sorry if I forgot someone)

@minjoonalist @ironicarmy @kookiesspacebuns @dammit-jjk @jesuislalune @setton00 @hplsmoon @lexi-the-fandom-master-love @thefiresfromheaven @nctssidehoe @tenshikoo @miladavidson @catsandstrawberries @cvbachacbitch @x-guccipeaches-x @yeontanie21 @feel-the-sunset @jimilogy @si1verrose @bishuthot @shane-knight @carolsummerlove @doki-do-ki @topanga27 @vanitypoko @kookoo-kachoo​ 

[imagines4thefandoms]

Oliver Queen X Wife! Reader

requested: @purpledragon04​

Sorry this took to long i just couldn't think of anything good enough. hope you like it.

Can you do a Oliver queen x reader? where they’re having a gender reveal party

Word count:2456

Warnings: NONE....slight fluff

“What time is it,” William asked shoving a big bite of pancake in his mouth.

“Son, its only 8am,” Oliver laughed at his son’s excitement.

You walked in the kitchen and sat down next to William. Oliver slide over a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee. After taking a sip you looked at your husband.

“What time is it,” you asked excitedly and nervously.

Oliver and William laughed as your husband walked over to you and places a kiss on your temple while placing his had on your ever growing belly. Today was the gender reveal party that Thea and Facility planned. You and William were excited to find out what the gender of the baby was, while Ollie was just excited to be having a baby with the love of his life. After all the bad in his life he was happy to have this good thing/things.

“Its just another party,” Oliver said taking a sip of his coffee.

“Ollie, your not looking forward to finding out the gender of our baby,” you asked tearing up.

“Sweetheart, I don’t care if we are having a boy or girl. I just want to have a happy healthy baby with the love of my life,” Oliver replied rubbing your back.

Oliver was right, it doesn’t matter if you were having a boy or girl. Honestly, your would have rather stayed home with the two men in your life but if you did Thea would drag you kicking and screaming.

After Oliver calmed you down from your crazy hormonal episode, the three of you finished breakfast. The party wasn’t until noon so there were four hours to kill.  William went back to his room to play some video game while you took an shower and Oliver clean the kitchen.

“(Y/n) you ok,” Oliver asked after you had been in the shower for an hour.

He walked into the bathroom and found you sitting on the floor of the shower crying. He climbed in and pulled you into his arms letting his t-shirt and sweatpants get soaked. Oliver and you just sat there for a couple minutes.

(N/n) what’s wrong,” he asked.

“What if i’m a bad mom,” you asked Ollie looking over your shoulder.

“Impossible, i’ve seen the way you care about William. I know that you will be a great mom,” he responded laughing.

You gave him a small smile and laughed when you noticed that he was soaking wet. Oliver helped you up and out the shower while he got out of his soaking pjs and took a shower himself.  After getting dressed in maternity leggings and a (f/c) T-shirt dress you laid in bed and continued reading the book on your nightstand.

When ollie was done, he got dressed is just jeans and a t-shirt and went to his office t work on some mayoral things. The three of you were doing your separate things til William ran into your room excitingly.

“Its 11:30 come on lets go,” William said basically bouncing off the walls.

When you found out your were pregnant you were worried not about what Ollie thought but about what William thought. You were scared he would think that this baby would be more important to him but when you and Oliver told him he was excited to be a big brother.

After you got out of bed you and William ran, well William ran you wattled, to Oliver’s office. Oliver laughed at the sight of his pregnant wife and son jumping with excitement and telling him to hurry up. He finished looking over the budget for the police (idk what mayors do) and closed his computer.

The car ride there consisted of William going back and forth over either wanting to have a baby brother or sister, and you staring into space imagining your life with a baby boy then again with a baby girl. Spoiler alert both were full of sleepless nights and tears from you. Oliver held your hand and shot down williams dream to play some video game with a little brother.

“William, you won’t be able to play Modern Warfare with a newborn,” he laughed.

When we pulled up to Oliver’s childhood home, Thea, Felicity and Dig came outside and greeted us. Thea walked past her brother and gave you a big hug. Oliver faked a hurt look while Thea ignored him and then went to hug her nephew.

“OMG you’re glowing,” Felicity stated pulling you into a hug.

“I think the term you are looking for is gigantic,” you said returning the hug.

“She’s right (y/n) you look amazing,” Oliver said placing a kiss on your temple.

“You have to say that cause you are coming home with me.”

“No it the truth. You are the most beautiful person in the multiverse.”

“Wow you’re cheesy Mr. Queen. Now lets find out if we are having a little girl or another boy. “

The two of you walked into the Queen Mansion. Moira was standing in the parlor by a table with little paper pins of the supergirl symbol and flash symbols. With a sign that read “will baby Queen be Supergirl or flash?”

“Omg this is too cute,” you said picking up each symbol.

Oliver looked over at his sister and Felicity. Dig laughed at Ollie’s reaction an pined a flash symbol to his shirt. William grabbed a flash symbol then went to hug Moira.

“Whose idea was this,” Oliver asked when you put on a supergirl symbol.

“Ours,” Kara and Berry said walking out of the living room.

“Kara, you’re here,” you exclaimed running or more likely waddling towards your best friend.

“I would never miss the baby shower,” she responded hugging you.

After you grabbed a supergirl symbol which matched the one Kara was wearing and she pulled you into the living room which was decked out in supergirl and flash decorations also pink and blue balloons. There was the famous first picture of Kara flying and a picture of the Flash above the fireplace. All of our superhero friends were here including our DEO friends from Earth-19.  It  was nice seeing everyone when it didn’t involve a worlds ending crisis.

Oliver walked over to you to take in the decorations and the fact that he has to look at a dozen pictures of Barry and Kara. You looked over at your husband and saw that he was wearing a supergirl and flash symbol on his shirt. Before you could comment on the buttons Sara walked into the mansion with the legends.

“Sara, how can someone with a time machine always be late,” you joked hugging her.

“Mick,” Sara replied as an excuse and with that one word you completely understood.

After ten minutes of catching up with Alex, Kara, and Brainy, it was time to play some games. Thea grabbed you and Oliver and brought you two to the front of room. The first game was guess the baby food. Kara and Felicity walked around the room with a plater of baby food jars with no labels and tiny plastic spoons.

After playing guess the baby food, baby bingo, baby birthday pool, and having everyone write wishes for baby queen, and scarfing down three sandwiches, two cake pops and some fruit it was time for the big reveal. Thea directed everyone out to the backyard while Dig and Barry brought out a wooden target with the words ‘Supergirl or The Flash’ in red and blue. There were three black balloons pinned to the plywood. Felicity stood infant of the target and explained that the colors in the balloons will match the superhero costumes so red is for the flash and blue is for supergirl. Thea brought Oliver a bow and three arrows.

“Really speedy,” Oliver asked smiling.

“Its cute ollie,” Thea replied patting his back.

You laughed at how the green arrow is gonna fire an arrow to find out if the baby is “supergirl” or the “Flash”. Oliver wouldn’t admit it cause he is a stubborn bastard but he thought the idea was cute. You went up behind Oliver and wrapped your arms around him and placed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t miss,” you teased him.

“You think your cute,” he retorted as you let him go and stood behind him.

“I know I am.”

Oliver shook his head and let out a small laugh as he grabbed an arrow and pulled the drawstring back. Everyone beside William and I were standing three feet behind Oliver watching to see what color explodes from the balloons. Oliver let the arrow fly and it hit the black ballon on the right and white paint exploded. Oliver reloaded the bow and took aim. William and you were anxiously waiting to see if the next shoot would be red or blue. Oliver released the arrow and shot the balloon on the left. The balloon released white paint again. In that moment you mentally cursed Felicity, Thea, and Kara for setting up the reveal like this. The suspense was killing you.

“Babe come here,” Oliver called to you.

You walked over and Oliver handed you the bow. “Sweetheart, you know I cant shoot a bow like you can,” you explained trying to give the bow back.

“I will help you,” he said pulling you back towards him.

Oliver grabbed the last arrow and placed it on the string. He placed his hand over your on the bow and guided your other hand to the string. The two of you pulled the sting back and Oliver helped you relax your shoulders.

“Take a deep breath and focus on the target.”

“You sure you don’t want to do this yourself.”

“Be quiet and focus.”

Oliver helped you correct your position and placed his hands back over yours. You and Oliver took a deep breath and he whispered “Let go” in your ear. The arrow flew across the yard and landed center of the last balloon. Blue paint exploded from the balloon. A girl. You and Oliver were having a girl. You dropped the bow and turned around and wrapped your arms around your husband. William ran over and hugged the both of you.

“Congratulations,” everyone yelled.

Moira and Thea came over to y’all and pulled you and Oliver into a hug. It didn’t matter what color came out of the balloon because you knew no matter what this baby would be loved and protected. I mean her god mother was freaking supergirl.

“You happy,” you asked your husband.

“Yes, now I don’t have to watch you dress my baby in flash onesies,” he said placing a kiss on your temple.

“I can still do that just to annoy you.”

“I guess it will be cool to have a little sister,” William said. You laughed at his reaction and pulled him into a hug.

After a couple minutes, everyone went back inside to finish the party. The party lasted another hour and Moira left to finish some business for Queen Consolidated and the rest of our non-super friends left. Team supergirl, team flash, the rest of team arrow, the legends, and Kate Kane stayed. Since we didn’t have to keep any secrets now we decided to open some presents.

Kara gave us a cute supergirl onesie with a little cape and a bib that read ‘stronger than supergirl’. “Kara this is too cute,” you hugged your best friend again. “Please this is nothing. Im going to spoil her so much.”

Alex gave us a cute teddy bear. “Thanks Alex,” you said giving it a tight squeeze. “Its just like the one my dad gave me when I was younger.”

Jon gave us some martian baby toy. It looked like a block of bedrock. “Its an old martian toy. It can shift to what every toy she thinks about.” “That is really cool Jon, thanks.”

Brainy gave us a cd with classical music to play during bedtime because it has been proven to increase intelligence. “Thank you Brainy.” “It has my favorites. Playing it every night will increase the baby’s intelligence by 45%.”

Kate got us a lot of diapers and pacifiers. “I didn’t know what to get so,” “No Kate this is great thanks.”

The Legends gave us a bunch of baby toys the stole from time. Some from the past and some from the future. “These are really cool.” “This one was from Queen Victoria’s nursery,” Nate explained. “Having these won’t mess up the time line will they?” Oliver asked. “Probably,” Mick said.  “I don’t know,” Nate said.  “No,”Sara said. “We will find out,” ray commented.

Caitlyn gave us a little baby booties/socks that monitor the baby’s vitals when she is sleeping. “Caitlyn this is awesome. Thank you,” “your welcome.”

Cisco build a little mobile with all the our symbols and it played “twinkle twinkle little star” “This is pretty cool Cisco,” Oliver stated spinning it around. “It also can create a protective force field around the crib at the push of this button,” he said handing you a small black remote. “Ok, that’s great. Hopefully we never need it,” you said looking closely at the mobile.

Iris and Barry gave us of course two flash onesies and a little green arrow one too. “Wow thanks Barry,” Oliver said in a monotone. “Come one ollie, these are really cute,” you pleaded holding up one of the flash ones.

Ralph gave us a cute little dinosaur plushie. “Thank you Ralph. This little guy is really cute.”

Thea and roy got us a little pink blanket. “Speedy is that,” Oliver asked.

“Yea mom helped me find it.” “Ollie what is it,” you asked taking the blanket from him. “This is her old blanket. Thea would never go anywhere without it.” “Thea this is so sweet.”

Dig and Lila got us a bunch of baby thing that they said saved their lives with baby Sara. “Trust us you will need these,” Lila explained. “Thanks you guys.”

Felicity got us a bunch of little books. “These are perfect Felicity,” you thanked her.

After presents, Oliver, dig, Barry, and William loaded the car up with all the stuff and the three of you left to head home. The car ride home was quiet; William was playing his video games and you and Oliver just held hands in silence. It was perfect. The silence only broke one time when William commented, “Just so you know I'm not playing dress up or attending a tea party.” You laughed and looked at your husband. The two of you just knew that William will end up doing anything for his little sister.

[starlightrows]

Something Sweet

Chapter 0 - Chasing Dreams

Next →

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: angst, symptoms of depression (not graphic or diagnosed), brief mention of alcohol and drug use, hopeful ending

Summary: Paz finds himself trapped in a routine that’s keeping him tied to a lifestyle that brings him no joy. It’s not until a phone call from his good friend Din, that he realizes that there are better things waiting just over the horizon if you can just be brave enough to make the leap of faith

This chapter is labeled chapter 0, because it takes places before the events of the actual story and does not include the reader. If you’re only here for the couply-goodness, feel free to skip this chapter and sit tight the romance is coming I promise!

Chapter 0 - Chasing Dreams is dedicated to @maybege who inspires me to chase my fan fiction dreams every single day, and is single handedly responsible for my love, yearning, and obsession with the Big Blue Mando Man we all know and love as Paz Vizsla! This is one is for you May ❤️

The 5am train is full of commuters, heading into work with coffee cups in hand and more or less rested ready to start the day. Everyone seems to be on the same page, consume enough caffeine to be personable by the time you get to the office, use the time on the train to do your hair or makeup or start a little early on emails from your phone if you’re behind. It’s all very hustle and bustle, keep your head down and keep grinding to make it in the big city.

Paz rode the 5am train every morning. But not heading into the city. No, he got on the train at 5am and rode it all the way down to the end of the line to get back to his dumpy little shoebox of an apartment on the outskirts of the city around 8am.

Why he chose to move to the city after getting out of the Marine Corps was beyond him. His commander told him that he had a friend that was looking to hire some muscle as private security for his upper echelon nightclubs and it could be a good job opportunity for him fresh out of the service. Not having anywhere else to go, he took the job. Now his days blurred together in a lopsided haze. Wake up around 3pm, eat something cheap and tasteless, work out, shower and get dressed to work. Catch the 6pm train into the city and spend all three hours thinking about far away places. What his life might be like if he was someone else or somewhere else. Get to the club and start work at 9pm. Spend the night watching people dance and sing and scream, drink ridiculously expensive alcohol and take brightly colored party drugs that blow out their pupils and make them want to dance and sing more. By the time 5am rolls around again his head is pounding from listening to electronic dance music for 8 continuous hours, and he spends the remaining 3 hours of his day riding the train back out of the city and wishing he had made different choices in his life.

Of course he does get Monday’s and Tuesday’s off, those days he still doesn’t really know what to do with himself. It’s too expensive to have a car in the city, so he can’t drive anywhere. And he’s too far away from any of the attractions of the city to walk to them. So he tends to spend his off days either walking around the track at the local park, or in his tiny kitchen kneading bread dough and baking test batches until it comes out the way he liked it. This is one of the big things he spends his time wondering about. If he kept up working in private security, and paying for this shit apartment, would he someday be able to afford to move closer to work and spend less time commuting? Maybe he could eventually save up and get a place with a bigger kitchen so he could try making more things. He liked baking. Kneading bread dough, making cake batter, mixing frosting colors. It’s telling that a man like him dreamt about pastries and cooking every night, and spent his long commuting hours debating on saving up more for a better place or spending a little extra on culinary equipment.

He didn’t tell anybody this is how he spent his time and money, not that he really talked to anyone these days anyway. Since leaving the service he hasn’t been good about keeping up with his brothers in arms, or his friends from before getting deployed. He hasn’t really made new friends in the city either. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to any of them, he’s just busy and when he does think about reaching out to someone, he always figures they’re busy too. Every day the sun rises and sets, and it’s like he’s just floating through life, waiting for something to change.

One Monday, Paz is walking around the track at the local park. It’s scraggly and not well maintained but at least it’s outdoors. He’s thinking about the sourdough loaf back in his apartment rising right now. Hopefully this one will turn out good, he’s planning to try a dutch oven bake soon, but that requires buying a dutch oven and he’s trying so hard to save up for a better apartment. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he considers just letting it go to voicemail figuring it was probably his boss asking him to come in and work tonight. But something in him tells him to look, the name on the screen surprises him. Din Djarin. His long time friend from way back before joining the service. Paz answered the phone.

“Hey buddy, Happy Birthday!” Din says. Paz stopped walking

“It’s not my birthday?” Paz stepped off to the side of the track and sat down on a bench running a hand over his face.

Din laughs on the other end of the line, “Yeah it is, April 30th right?”

Paz pulls his phone away from his face and checks the date, “Holy shit, it is my birthday,”

“Yeah man. Did you really forget?” Din asks, he sounds like he’s moving around Paz hopes he’s not bothering him or getting in the way of his day right now.

“Honestly yeah, it feels like April just started,” he admits

“Been busy then? Running around in the big city, making big money, romancing cute hunnies?” Din teases, Paz can hear another voice on the other side. He figure’s it’s Din’s son, he’s gotta be about two or three years old now.

“Yeah, something like that,” Paz mumbles

“Yeah? Then why don’t you sound happy about it?” Din asks, sensing his friends lack of enthusiasm

“It’s fine, really. The city is nice, I just wish I could actually live in it and enjoy it. Actually I wish everyone who lived here actually enjoyed it. Kinda just feels like everyone who lives here only knows how to work or be a strung out party goer,” Paz sighs

“Guess the big city life isn’t all it's cracked up to be huh,” Din says “Listen… you should come out to visit sometime. I feel like this city is more your style. We’re still a major city with nice attractions and events, but there’s more community here and things are a little slower ya know,”

“I can’t just drop everything and go all the way out there. You live over 2000 miles away,” Paz says, though the prospect of a smaller city with a community atmosphere does sound awfully appealing

“Paz, you’ve been working for a private security company for two years and I can almost guarantee that you haven’t taken a single hour of paid time off or sick leave. Flights are a little pricey, I’ll give you that, but you can stay with me so you don’t have to pay for a hotel or anything,” Din offers “I’ll pay for your half of your flight, call it a birthday present,”

“I’ll tell you what Din, I’ll think about it. You’re probably right, I do need to get out of the city for a bit. I’ll talk to the boss about taking some time off,” Paz says, standing back up.

“That’s the spirit!” Din exclaims “Call me when you figure out a time that’s good for you so we can book you a flight,”

Paz and Din chat idly for another couple of minutes before Din bids him goodbye, and happy birthday. Paz tucks his phone back into his pocket and smiles. For the first time in a very long time, he’s actually looking forward to something.

----

Two weeks later Paz is sitting on a plane for the first time since coming back to the states after deployment, with two weeks off of paid vacation time on his way to visit Din. It’s a long six and half hour flight and the seat is pretty small for how wide his frame is, but he’s hopeful. If nothing else, he was going to get to spend two weeks with his best friend.

Din is waiting for him at the airport when his flight arrives. He greets him with a bracing hug and the promise of a really good dinner waiting for him. The moment Paz steps out of the airport he knows he’s in trouble. Instead of a massive industrial looking city full of high rise buildings with thousands of people pushing their way through to get on with their day, he’s met with bright blue skies. Trees that are just starting to put out new leaves and flowers for spring. The air is fresh and clear. A feeling wells up in his chest, when he turns and can see mountains in the distance. It’s beautiful.

“You coming?” Din draws him out of his thoughts, tossing his suitcase in the back of his truck.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize you lived so close to the mountains,” Paz admitted stepping up into the passenger seat.

“Everyone says that when they first come here. You should see them in winter when they’re covered in snow,” Din says. Paz can imagine it, but he hopes to see it with his own eyes.

Din drives through the city, it’s a lot like the city Paz had just come from, except older and less flashy. Less people, and less cars. All of the businesses looked unique and inviting.

Din passes a street and points down it without looking, “My studio is right down there. It’s a great little spot. All the business owners on the block are close, we play poker and shoot pool on Tuesday nights at the bar on the corner. You’re definitely coming with me for that this week,”

“I could shoot some pool,” Paz laughs.

Din turns out of the downtown area, and takes a main boulevard lined with fast food restaurants and dive bars. Din points again, “That’s the stadium for the university. Hope you like football, because it’s kind of a big thing here,”

“Still think I could have pulled a scholarship for football straight out of high school if I wasn’t so dead set on going into the Marine Corps,” Paz jokes

“It’s just as well,” Din shrugs with a smile “you make one hell of a Marine,”

Din turns down another road off the main drag. They pass parks, an elementary school, neighborhoods, and a lone Dairy Queen before turning into another neighborhood full of very nice houses with front lawns and trees giving off pink and white flower buds.

Din pulls the truck up into one of the driveways, and cuts the engine. Paz gets out of the truck and takes in the house. It’s massive by his standards.

“Is your girlfriend a CEO or something?” Paz asks with a laugh. Din gives him a look, and goes to take the suitcase out of the back.

“No? She and her brothers flip houses together,” he replies “why do you ask?”

“Your place is huge, man! When I was a kid these are the kind of houses I thought millionaires lived in,” Paz follows Din towards the front door.

Din laughs, as he unlocks the door. “Maybe in other states, but not here. The million dollar houses here are the size of castles. This house is pretty average for this area, and it didn’t cost us an arm and a leg to get,”

Paz nods and follows his friend into the house. It’s not just a house, it’s a home. Paz can tell because even though it’s clean on the inside it looks lived in, well loved. Pictures and art on the walls. The living room had a big tv and sectional couch, perfect for hosting game day events and watch parties. He could see a chest in the corner that clearly had toys in it. The kitchen was huge! A double doored refrigerator, cabinet space and marble countertops. He can see through a sliding glass door there’s a backyard, a play structure and home swing set sat in the middle of it for Din’s little boy. He didn’t have any pets but he could picture a dog running around out there too.

This is it. This is what he’d spent the last two years dreaming about on the train rides to and from the city. This is his far away place. He’s been here for less than half an hour and he already knows, he is meant to be here.

The next two weeks are the happiest Paz has ever felt. Exploring the downtown area, visiting the parks and the nature reserve just outside of town, the restaurants serve great food that doesn’t cost a fortune. He takes Din’s little boy to the zoo and out for ice cream. He gets to know Din’s girlfriend and her two brothers, apparently flipping houses in some of the older more run down parts of town is very rewarding and breathes new life into the city. He visits Din’s tattoo studio, and goes with him to the bar on Tuesday night like he promised.

Everyone there is friendly, welcoming and adamantly against him leaving at the end of the week.

“You sure you have to go back, you’re part of the crew man!” says Cara, she owns the boxing studio down the street.

Paz took a swing from his beer, and laughed “You think I want to go back there? I gotta figure out how to get out of my lease, quit my job. I gotta find somewhere to live and work here first,”

“If you’re looking for a job just to get on your feet, I could use another bartender,” Boba, the guy who owns the bar says “Fennec is looking to move to part time too, more time slots available for work,”

“If you’re serious, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Paz says.

Boba extends a hand to him, “Job’s yours if you want it,” Paz grins and shakes his hand.

A few days later Paz is genuinely sad about having to hug Din’s little boy goodbye, and get back on the plane to take him back across the country. Back to the city that never sleeps, and doesn’t appreciate the little things in life. Back to the six hours round trip of commuting. Back to the scraggly uncared for parks and dirty streets. He promised himself on that plane ride, he would not get caught up in the monotony and blinding routine like before. There is a better life waiting for him. All he has to do is make the leap of faith and take it.

———

He holds himself to his promise. In the first week when he got back he spent the entire three hour train ride to work researching apartments in the area he wanted to live. He was shocked to find out the exact same price he was paying for his shoebox apartment with no amenities and terrible maintenance; could get him a huge apartment with a big kitchen, access to a pool, gym, and shared entertainment space. It even came with a parking spot. And there were other options that were almost as nice for less money. And to think he had wasted so much time and money pretending he was happy, or was getting close to being able to afford to be happy living in the bigger city. What a joke.

He had Din submit an application to an apartment complex he really liked about a week after he got back. The second he found out he was approved and got the apartment, he put in his two weeks notice and started packing. Another six hours plane trip didn’t sound very appealing but, at least it was a one way trip this time.

Paz found moving out of his apartment to be exceptionally easy. He threw all of his belongings into two suitcases, and shipped the few things that wouldn’t fit in a box he could pick up at the post office when he got there. Everything else was not worth saving, so he put everything out on the side of the road in front of his old apartment with a piece of paper taped to it that read: FREE!

Unfortunately moving into the new apartment in the new city was a little more challenging. Furnishing an apartment from scratch is no small task. But to his amazement and truly heartfelt joy, all of Din’s friends he had met when he came to visit helped him move things into his new place. Boba even loaned him his truck to go pick up bigger furniture like the couch and bed frame he ordered. Cara and Peli, the woman who owned the auto parts store on the next block over from Din’s studio and Boba’s bar, sat with him for hours assembling IKEA furniture. Din’s girlfriend even came by with Din’s little boy, to visit uncle Paz and help him figure out how to appropriately decorate and furnish a “real apartment”.

He loves his new life in this new city. Working for Boba at the bar in the evenings is pretty low stress, and he makes quite a bit in tips. During the day he’s been working on sourdough starters, determining the best herbs and flavors to top focaccia bread, trying his hand at doing French baguettes. And more recently, he’s been trying to make chocolate croissants from scratch. Though he hasn’t had much success yet. But he keeps trying.

Every time something comes out perfect, he writes down every step in a blue notebook he found lying around with his things before he moved.

Paz never imagined his life turning out like this. If he was told just 3 months ago he would be moving across the country on a whim, to chase his dream of living a simpler life, he wouldn’t have believed it. And then things got even better.

About six months after moving, Paz really felt like he was home in this city. He split his time between working part time as an instructor at Cara’s boxing studio, bartending for Boba, and working on his culinary hobby. Until one day, the older couple that owned the bagel shop a few doors down from Din’s tattoo studio closed up shop. Apparently they were retiring, packing up the business and moving out of state to be closer to their grandchildren.

There was a sign on the vacant building indicating the unit was about to become available. A thought crossed his mind…. he had no idea where it came from or if he was remotely qualified to pull it off… but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Does anyone have a contact number for the couple that owned the bagel shop?” Paz asks the group

“Yeah,” Cara pipes up “I house sat for them once. Why?”

“I want to buy their industrial baking equipment, and takeover their lease,” he replies seriously

“You want to run the bagel shop?” Fennec asks

“No… I uh, I wanna open a bakery,” Paz admits

“You do make a mean sourdough dude…. I say go for it,” Din encourages him

“I’m sure they’ll sell you the equipment at a discount. Hell they might even leave it to you for free if you tell them what you’re gonna do with it,” Cara tells him, she writes down a phone number on a napkin and hands it to Paz. He pockets the napkin with a thank you and a nod.

The next day he calls the number, and has a lovely chat with the wife who, as Cara pointed out, was eager to get the equipment off their hands. She also provided a ton of helpful information on running a small business in this area, who trustworthy suppliers were, a good lawyer to get all the paperwork done, a good accountant to file taxes next spring, and more. Honestly it was a lot more than Paz has even considered, but something in his heart was telling him it’s the right decision. That this is a challenge he absolutely had to tackle. That maybe this has always been his calling.

And right he was. Vizsla’s Bakery had a grand debut the following autumn. And he knew, this is it. He’s finally made it. All of the time he spent in the Marines fighting in wars he never truly understood, all of his years spent working a mindless job in a depressing city, pretending he was not struggling. All of it has led him here. To a city he loves, with friends so close to him they’re like family, a home… a real home. And a dream he can finally live out.

Tag List: @maybege

[protection-of-the-peaky-blinders]

A Peaky Christmas Day (Tommy x Reader)

Title: A Peaky Christmas Day Summary: Tommy asks you to spend Christmas Day with him. Tommy finds you wandering the snowy streets on Christmas Morning. Asks you to spend Christmas Day with him. Words: 3,372 | Part 1 of 2 Warnings: Trigger Warnings for mentions of Domestic Abuse, Alcohol abuse, Rape, Swearing, She/Her Pronouns Author’s Note: To the Anon that suggested this, I was already writing something similar so I hope you don’t mind me adding in some tragic backstory. Part 1 of 2. Part 2 more focused on Christmas Day Fluff. It’s my first Tommy Shelby Fanfic so if he’s out of character, I profusely apologise. 

 ~

Christmas Day. Merry Christmas. 𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦.

You couldn’t recall a time where Christmas was ever ‘merry’ for you. Your father was always drunk, using the excuse that he was drinking ‘Santa’s whisky since it’s Christmas after all’, and his drunkenness was often taken out on you. The more he drank, the worse it became for you. Which is why you prefer to stay home and ensure he has meals throughout the day, try and soak up some of the alcohol, and try and distract him from consuming too much, lest it become far worse than things thrown at you.

Christmas Eve had been the start of your problems. You weren’t aware your Dad had gone out drinking at the pub until he came home and gotten handsy with you. Luckily you were able to shoo him off with the excuse of you cooking dinner and he needed to take a shower. But this didn’t last as long as you hoped. You managed to get him to eat something but your night went downhill from there.

 Had you given Tommy Shelby permission from another time prior, your Father wouldn’t have lived to have seen Christmas Day. At the moment, you regretted protecting your Dad against the Peaky Blinder. For some reason, Tommy stepped down and respected your wishes. You were grateful. But you knew that Tommy knew your Dad can be extremely abusive when under the influence.

Christmas morning finally arrived and you were already exhausted. You hadn’t slept. Your Dad keeping you awake between his bouts of drunkenness. You had no safe spot in the house. Your bedroom, which should have been anyone’s general ‘safe spot’ was never respected by him as he quite often came barging in.

He finally passed out in the early morning and that’s when it became too much for you. Still in yesterday’s clothes, though severely crumpled and torn, you left the house in such a state that you blindly walked in the snow for hours. It was still dark, but the sun that was slowly rising had allowed enough light to dimly light the area in a dark blue hue.

 You walked and walked. You knew if you stopped and caught your breath, you’d break down like a mad person and you couldn’t do that. You’re not weak. You’re not. Your situation was complicated. You couldn’t leave. You couldn’t disrespect your Mother’s memory by leaving your Dad all on his own. He was still grieving the love of his life. Your Mother had only died a year prior. A few days before Christmas, actually. This year had marked the one-year anniversary. The wounds were still fresh. The first time Tommy found out your Father was abusing you, he wanted to pay your Father a visit. But you stepped in and explained the situation. At first Tommy wasn’t having it, but you begged him to respect the memory of your Mom; a good, kind-hearted, nurturing woman. When he saw you almost breakdown in tears, he stepped down; on the condition that if it gets out of hand, he will do something about it. “You’re protected by the Peaky Blinders now, love.” He had said as he took his cap off and placed it on your head. Far too large for you, but it had you smiling again. And in turn, made him smile softly.

 By 7:30 in the morning, the sun had peaked above the rooftop, though hidden behind clouds, it still left enough light to let you know that it’s now daylight. Snow was starting to fall ever so slightly and your h/c hair had lightly begun sprinkled with snow. You would have looked cute with your red nose and cheeks – had the circumstances been different. Your fingers were cold as ice, too, but it didn’t seem to bother you.

 -- As always, for Tommy, Business never stopped. Even on Christmas Day. Rising up early with the sun, and before anyone else awoke, Tommy got himself dressed and headed into town where he had a couple of matters to take care of at his office. His family might get annoyed at him but at least it won’t be bugging him throughout the day, playing at the back of his mind and making him irritable company. He almost lost track of time when he dropped his pen and sat back. Taking his pocket watch out from his vest pocket, he flicked it open anad read that it was nearing 8am. Better get a move on. By the time he gets home, the fire should be lit, half his guests should be waking up or arriving. (Some of his family chose to stay the night, others were going to arrive in the morning).

 Lighting a cigarette, he made his way out of his office and out of the building, immediately being greeted by snow. Snowing at Christmas was always magical. Or so many believed. It didn’t bother Tommy in the slightest. He wasn’t overly sentimental about Christmas, except for how it brought his family together as normal as they can be; no talk of business, no arguments. Just lots of laughter, chatter and loud teasing. The only person who’s ever cross as Christmas is Aunt Pol when she tells the brothers to settle down; John and Arthur being the rowdiest ones.

 Christmas Day was one of very few days where Tommy’s demons don’t weigh heavily on his shoulders, nor hauntingly appear in his eyes. Yes, he’s still quite reserved and prefers to quietly observe his family, but he smiles more and joins in the laughter.

 It wasn’t long before Tommy was in his car and driving away, wanting to get home before the snow got heavy. His drive home only last a few minutes as he drove out to the edge of town, only to slow down when he saw a woman stumbling on the side. Had it not been for the familiar hair, he would’ve thought it was just some whore who had a bit too much too drink. Clothes were crumpled and torn, hair falling out from the updo it must have been kept in; indicating a wild night no doubt. Such was not the case. Foot placed pressure on the brakes of the car as he carefully slowed it down to avoid skidding on the snow-covered road, ocean blue eyes squinted in concern before murmuring a soft “Fuck.” Under his breath when he realised who it was. The car creaked to a halt as he hastily placed the brakes on, turned the ignition off and swiftly climbed out. “Y/N?” he called out, as he walked over to you, head ducking a little trying to catch a glimpse of your face to give him full confirmation it was you. You stopped in your tracks when you heard your name being called by a familiar voice. It was comforting. Too comforting. Because the minute you stopped and looked up to see the clearly concerned look of Thomas Shelby walking over to you, you crumbled. Your features crumpled as distraught washed over you, and he made it in time to catch you against his chest as you cried. “Aright…” he murmured as he braced himself to catch your weight, “Alright, love. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

Arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you firmly against him as your body trembled violently from each sob that tore from your chest. He’s never seen you cry. Never heard you cry. Never knew someone could cry as painfully as you. He didn’t need to ask too many questions about what happened. He knew getting an answer out of you now would be hopeless, so he’d wait until you calmed down a little more. But knowing your situation at home, and your dishevelled appearance, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. One hand left your back and curled in the locks of your h/c strands, the other hand remaining on your back and holding your protectively against him. Each sob that tore out from you had you struggling to breath, gasping between each cry. Being out in the cold climate probably didn’t help either, with the snow already starting to fall. “Shh…shh, shh… come on, hey, come on...” you heard him hushing you firmly. Probably to most people it might sound as though he was annoyed because of the tone of his voice, but you knew there was concern that filtered through that gravelly voice. “You’re safe now, eh? You’re safe.” Cold, ocean blue eyes glanced around as he held you; snowfall was beginning to cover things like a white blanket and he needed to get you out of the cold. A few people were still walking around in the distance behind them, but apart from that, it seemed like it was just you two being the daft ones still outside in the cold. Your painful cries tugging at his heartstrings, making him want to murder the fucking bastard that did this to you; family or not. The only thing stopping him from spreading more red at Christmas was you. There was no way in hell he could leave you in such a state. Your father can wait. But he WILL pay. Tommy will NOT let this slide. He continued to hold you until you calmed down, his patience with you was commendable, but it’s one thing you needed was patience and understanding. Your situation was … delicate. Fragile. He certainly didn’t want to fuck anything up with you. Except for your Dad. But that was a given. When your cries had quietened, you dared not look at him, knowing your face was a complete mess. You felt him let go of you, and for some reason you thought he was disgusted by you. Something you feared would always happen if a situation like this occurred; where you were painted dirty. A whimper of fear left your throat and you stumbled back in your footing. Letting you go, Tommy had quickly shrugged out of his jacket to place it over your shoulders, give you some warmth because it was hard to miss how frozen you felt against him. He missed the whimper that came from you, thinking it was just a noise of distraught and nothing more. The same with the stumbling of your footing, thinking it was your exhaustion creeping in. Not once did he ever consider your dirty or disgusting, the word ‘whore’, a word you feared you’d be seen as because of your Dad, never once occurred to him when he’s with you. Or thinking of you. Quickly draping the heavy coat around your shoulders, he was quick to wrap his around you again. “Y/N!” he murmured before his other came around you to hold you up in case you buckled completely. “I’ll take you back to mine, eh? Sit you by the fire and get you warmed up. And then we’ll talk.” “But it’s Christmas.” You murmured though your voice croaky from the distraught outburst you had only moments ago. “You’re spending Christmas with me. Alright?” It’s not like you had much of a choice in the matter. When Tommy formulates plans, he sticks to them. The only time he wavers is if you’re legitimately uncomfortable about it but that’s never been an issue with Tommy. “…but my Dad…” you asked, letting the question go only for Tommy to sternly answer back, “Will be dealt with. Let’s get out of the cold before you get sick. Come on.” Arms stayed around you, right arm draped around the middle of your back, left hand cupping your elbow as an added means of security. Tommy guided you back to his car, his own body acting as both a shield and grounding point for you. Your frozen hands clutched at the thick fabric of his coat and wrapped it shut against your chest, shivering beneath it when your body finally discovered the sense of warmth and you only begun to realise how cold you actually were. Opening the passenger door for you, Tommy waited a moment for you to climb in before closing it. Blue eyes surveyed the area once more, either for prying eyes, any signs of her Father, and also simply out of slightly paranoid habit. You let out a shaky sigh as you leaned back against the seat. Your legs flopping to the side as all the strength that kept you going suddenly left you. The exhaustion finally caught up and was threatening to pull you under, but you kept your eyes open. The coat didn’t help with the comfort it provided; warmth and smelling of smoke and cologne; Tommy’s signature scent. You jerked slightly as the driver’s door opened and Tommy sat down, slamming the door shut. He didn’t speak for a moment, eyes gazing straight ahead out the window. “He put his hands on you, didn’t he?” You licked your lips in nervousness, knowing there was no point in lying to him. He already knew the answer, just wanted the truth confirmed before he decided to carry out whatever plan he was currently formulating in his mind. “Tommy…” “Answer the question Y/N. Did he place his hands on you?” His voice was low. Calm. A hint of danger behind his voice but he kept it soft but firm for you. “…Yes…” you breathed quietly, Tommy already able to hear the tears in your voice. “Fuck.” He murmured beneath his breath as straightened himself up to start the car. “He did that too.” Your voice hitching as you admitted to the worst of what your Father did to you, making Tommy pause in his actions and drop his hands. He finally looked over at you to see you curled up, looking small and fragile. Tears already falling from your E/C orbs again, though you weren’t outwardly crying. Just seemed as though you didn’t even realise you were crying at all. His heart broke for the pain you’re in; this soft, beautiful woman, broken by a man she’s meant to trust and be loved by. His heart angered by the fact that he wanted to protect you, made a personal oath to protect you and had failed to do so. He didn’t even want to think what would have happened to you today had he not found you. “He will be dealt with, Y/N.” he repeated himself firmly, with authority. If you were going to argue against him, you would not win. His decision was final this time. Blue eyes bored into yours “I want to make that very clear.” You weren’t afraid of him, but you were afraid of what he’d do. But you knew your Father went too far. You had no fight left in you to protect or defend him. “…By order of the Peaky Blinders?” Grabbing his cap, he yanked it off and flopped it against your head, the way he did it during one of many moments that looked like you both were an official couple but at the same time, nothing had yet officiated it (by means of a kiss or something typical that officially seals a relationship). “By order of the Peaky Blinders.” He murmured back, pulling the cap down slightly to hide your face. Fuck. He’ll never forgive himself for not being there to protect you. But then, he’d have risked you never forgiving him if he broke his promise and acted on it sooner. It doesn’t matter. He can’t change the past. He’s got you now. Safe. By his side. Safest place for you to be. He’ll take you home, get you warmed up and settled in. Reintroduce you to the family since you’ve only met them briefly a few times before; Tommy wanting to keep you away from a lot of the shit that goes on, not wanting you to get caught up in it all. He’d call a family meeting at some point and give the order for tomorrow. It's boxing day after all, what better way to celebrate than by boxing the fucker’s head in eh?

 That was his plan. For the most part of today, he just wanted you to feel safe and comfortable, and to place a smile on your face. At least he’d be able to give you your Christmas present. Perhaps not in the way he imagined to present you with it since you’re in a fragile state and he dare not risk jeopardising anything. But at least he was able to do it on the day that mattered most.

 You didn’t bother adjust the cap that was a bit too big for your head. You hummed softly in response but nothing further was said from either of you. Tommy finally tore his eyes from yours and began to put the car into motion. It wasn’t too long before you were lulled to sleep by the leisurely motion of the car and the hum of the motor acting as white noise. With Tommy being silent and not conversing with you didn’t help, but certainly the lack of sleep you were currently suffering with was the key factor as to why you fell asleep within minutes. Tommy glanced over to you when he noticed you had gone quiet, no sound of sniffling or shaky little intakes of breaths. His concern was quelled when he realised you were asleep, and purposefully took the longer route home, slowing down over some of the bumpier paths to avoid waking you. It was the least he could do for you in your current state. Getting you home and warmed up was a priority, but he couldn’t recall a time he’s ever seen you asleep. You looked peaceful. Angelic. As if you didn’t suffer a horrendous ordeal that last throughout the night until the early hours of the morning. He didn’t want to break the peace you had with sleep, so he let you be as long as he could. You honestly felt like you had barely gotten any sleep when you were being shaken awake only seconds later (Tommy had managed to stretch the drive close to half an hour). In your disorientated state, your eyes snapped open and you immediately fought against the hands that were on you. Your whimpers being the first noise to come from you, only to be hushed by a gravelly voice, “Hey, hey, Y/N! Y/N! Its just me. Just Tommy. Yeah?” Between fighting him off, he managed to catch your wrists and hold them steady from attacking him, but when you came to your senses, eyes wide with fear and your chest rising with each breath, your hands went limp in his hold. “Tommy?” “Yeah.” “Oh god…” “It’s alright. Hey…look at me. It’s alright. Just me. You’re safe now. You’re safe.” Blue eyes never left yours as he waited for you to calm down. Letting go of your wrists, he pulled away just a little bit to give you space in case you needed it. He offered his hand for you to take in case you needed physical reassurance. He wasn’t sure how best to help you right now, so he wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t take his hand. But you did. “God, I’m so sorry.” You apologised once you found your voice and your bearings. Bringing your hand to his lips, he softly kissed the back of your hand, “Don’t be.”

He bit back words of anger hurled at your Father for making you feel this way, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. You didn’t need to deal with Tommy’s anger.

 “Now come on, eh? Let’s get you inside. Warmed up by the fire. Cup of tea. Spend Christmas Day with me.”

Ocean blue eyes that held so much anger and danger, was staring at you with nothing but softness, adoration and a fierce protectiveness. He lifted the back of your hand to his lips and gave it another tender kiss, making your lips curl up into a smile. “That’s my girl.” It was the first time you smiled since he found you, and fuck how it made his heart flutter. Especially when you ducked your head in shyness but not before he spotted the hint of blush dusting your cheeks, making him chuckle ever so slightly. || Tag list: @captivatedbycillianmurphy