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blessedwithabadomen · 2 days

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in love with the mess - day twelve

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, some degradation), angst, fluff, Yungblug appearance lol

length : 8.3k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny

a/n : time to find out what you've been craving to know for a week! enjoy and leave a comment 💕💕

•••

day twelve

Spending the whole night talking after an exhausting show, knowing fully well we had an early bus call, a four-hour drive to London, soundcheck and another show, wasn’t the wisest decision Oli and I had ever made, but it was a completely necessary one.

It started with a lot of confusion and reassurances that I’d heard correctly.

“Say that again,” I whispered. I didn’t care that he was still inside of me or that our sweaty bodies were sticking together or that my thighs were in danger of cramping as they wrapped around him that little bit tighter. Right now, it was just Oli, his eyes, more beautiful than I’d ever seen them, and those words hanging between us. “Please.”

“I love you, Aubrey,” he repeated. Something in his face changed. Like a weight being lifted. Like there was a new lightness in his being from having said those words out loud. He was earnest. Everything about him screamed honesty. But believing it was another thing. After pining for him for so long. After wondering whether I should let him know about my feelings just this morning.

“You mean that?” I asked, unable to keep the worry to myself. I needed to know. If not now, I’d question it forever. “You’re not just saying that because you just came in me, right?”

“Fucking hell, Aubrey,” Oli laughed. Taking hold of my thighs, he removed them from his waist, then pulled out slowly, discarding the condom. He didn’t hand me a tissue or a wipe but I couldn’t care less about possibly leaking on his sheets. There were more important things. When he lied down next to me, his hands found my body again, holding me close, bringing our foreheads together once more. “I didn’t mean to tell you that way, yeah? But I mean it. I might as well admit it now. I love you.”

I was convinced I was going to wake up from this dream any minute now. Things like these didn’t happen. Wishes didn’t come true like this. But Oli felt nothing short of real in my arms.

“Again,” I demanded.

“I love you.”

I had to bask in the delight for a while. Giggles and smiles and soft kisses peppered all over his face followed. Then, more questions.

“How long have you known?” I whispered, still, as if we were discussing a secret that was just ours, just for now, before the rest of the world was allowed to listen in. Now that the seal on his secret was broken though, I wanted to learn every single thing about it.

“Well, once upon a time, many, many years ago, I entered my tour bus and the first thing I laid my eyes across was the greatest ass in the world in the tiniest pair of hot pants sticking out from my bunk because someone had gotten mixed up on where they were supposed to sleep-”

Oli avoided the playful slap coming his way, catching onto my wrist and pressing a kiss on it before letting go again. I could feel him smile on my skin.

“You absolutely did not fall in love with me from seeing my ass before you saw my face.”

He sighed in mock annoyance. “You’re really going to make me go all sappy here, aren’t you.”

“I’m not letting you out of this bed until you do.”

“That’s not as much of a threat as you think it is.”

I allowed him to press a kiss to my forehead but pulled back quickly. He wasn’t going to get away with not answering, not now. I was desperate for every tiny sliver of truth I could get from him.

“I happened gradually, you know?” Oli explained and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever seen him this serious, this sincere. “I think it’s been in the making for a while. But when we didn’t see each other for, like, a year, it just hit me differently. So me inviting you on this tour might just have been a tad selfish.”

I couldn’t even blame him. Not for this. I knew he hadn’t expected anything of me when he offered to get me a job on this tour. And realistically, none of us could have seen coming what had transpired in the past days. But suddenly I was more thankful than ever for that fateful phonecall just a few months back.

“I’ve been in love for you for a while,” he admitted. “But now I also know that I love you.”

He got buried under a plethora of kisses for that alone.

The kissing distracted us for a while. Every time I looked at him and those eyes that suddenly shone so clearly with love, I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing his face and pulling him close again. It was like a drug whose dosage had just increased tenfold and I wanted more and more and more. Only when he finally separated from me for a moment, his eyes not quite shining the way mine did, did I realise.

“You don’t need to say it back,” he mumbled, stroking my hair in such a delicate manner that I wished I could purr to convey just how perfectly comfortable I was. He was trying to be brave. As if it was okay for him that he’d just bared his soul and I’d simply taken it all with open arms and a smile. As if he didn’t need to hear those words just as badly. That he could accept if I didn’t feel the same.

In reality, I’d simply been so caught up in this utopia that had just opened up for me that I’d not even noticed I hadn’t said it. Those three words that had been swimming in my brain for longer than I’d consciously been aware of.

“Oli,” I whispered, laying both of my hands on his cheeks so I could direct his face back toward me. I needed to make sure he was looking at me, really looking at me. I knew he would have trouble believing it otherwise. “Oliver. I love you.”

“Are you-”

“Yes. I love you. And I’ll tell you a thousand times if you let me. I’ve been thinking about telling you I’m in love with you so many times, you have no idea. Just going over it in my head again and again. I was so scared to say it and ruin everything. But if I’m being honest with myself, I couldn’t have held it in for much longer. You simply had the guts to say it first.”

“Aubrey-”

“No. Shush. I love you.”

I couldn’t tell how many times we repeated those words to each other. Neither of us seemed to be quite able to grasp the novelty of the situation. How everything between us had changed now, officially. No more backing away. No pretending that we were just having fun, no strange friends-with-benefits situation that kept crossing lines. It was terrifying as much as it was absolutely exhilarating.

When night slowly started giving way to morning though, our ridiculous happiness experienced a bit of a damper. It wasn’t just the fact that a new day was starting, throwing us into new chaos and questions on how to navigate whatever we now were. It was also the knowledge that this mess didn’t just include the two of us.

“What about Noah?” I unhelpfully threw in. I didn’t even know where to start that discussion. I didn’t even know what needed to be discussed after all.

“I don’t… I don’t want to stop. Whatever we’re doing with him. It’s just…”

“Me neither.”

A sigh rattled through Oli’s chest, so deep and full of worries that I couldn’t help pulling him a little closer, as if that would alleviate his stress or somehow make the situation better.

“I’m not sure what I want. In the long term.”

I let the silence fall for a moment. He was so deep in thoughts I almost felt bad about pulling him back to reality. But he was in danger of going into overthinking territory again.

“Do you know what you feel for him?”

Maybe it was the darkness embracing us that made it a little easier for Oli to talk about it. Maybe it was the euphoria still coursing through his veins. Maybe we’d managed to elevate outselves to a new level of trust between us.

“I think…” He paused for a moment. I didn’t say anything. I simply allowed him to take the time to sort his thoughts as much as he was able to. “I think I know. Somehow. I’m just not sure if I can put it in words yet. And Noah…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. Even if he hadn’t said it out loud, I had an idea of where his train of thought was taking him. “He’s… I think he needs some more time.”

“Do we tell him?”

“Tell him what? That we said ‘I love you’ to each other?”

“That you’re my girlfriend.”

The blush came so abruptly and with such heat, even before I’d fully registered his words. Suddenly, my heart was beating with the insane intensity of being in love once again. I didn’t know if I wanted to throw up or laugh until my body gave up, just to alleviate the feeling.

“Am I?” I giggled, much more high-pitched than I usually sounded, but my voice was beyond control. “Is that what we are now? Girlfriend and boyfriend?”

“Fuck off,” he exclaimed, but he was sporting a smile so big I could see his sharp canines. In an instant, his hands moved, suddenly tickling my stomach and all I could do was cry out attempts of ‘no’ and ‘stop’ while gasping for air and struggling to get away. “This is not funny.”

He was laughing out loud anyway. When he stopped, fingers still hovering in dangerous places, my breathing quick and hectic, he stared down at me with a grin.

“Say you’ll be my girl or I’ll keep this up until bus call.”

I had no fight in me and no energy to survive another attack.

“I already am. I’m your girl, Oli.”

I could have stayed in our little bubble of love forever, doing nothing but staring at Oli and reminding myself that this was real. That he loved me. That he wanted me. Even with the nagging feeling in both of our beings that we hadn’t quite figured it out yet. Not with the third puzzle piece missing.

I wondered how Noah’s night had been. If the guys had managed to talk to him. How he felt. If his bed had seemed as empty as ours.

The ever-increasing alarm on my phone, still somewhere in a bag in Oli’s living room but rising in crescendo to the point where we easily heard it still, reminded me that I was waiting for some sort of information from Nicky. It was enough motivation to get up and get ready for the day. Just about.

Kicking Oli out of bed with me (under loud protest about his lack of sleep which I really couldn’t undo), I quickly made my way to my phone, caring much less about being completely naked than the sound that was starting to grind my gears. Two messages were waiting for me. I swiped away the one from my roommate, who unfortunately now possessed my number after I’d called her, deciding that her question about when I’d pick up my stuff could wait another day. The other one was more interesting anyway.

Unknown number Barely got anything out of Noah last night but I think he’s open to talk to you if you have some time. Maybe hop on our bus for the ride to London? I’d made sure the two of you get some space. Let me know so we don’t drive off without you. Nicholas Ruffilo

I chuckled at the way he signed the goddamn text with his whole name as if this was a business transaction, then added his number to my phone.

“Oli!” I shouted for him. His head poked around the corner almost immediately. “Mind if I drive to London with Bad Omens? Nicholas said Noah might talk.”

“You’re my girl for, what, four hours and you already leave me for another band!” He exclaimed, approaching me with long strides, hands immediately on my bare ass. He had only just managed to put on a pair of clean boxershorts and I repaid the gesture by letting my fingers trail down his chest. “Unbelievable.”

“I’ll make sure to make it up to you when we get there.” My fingers ghosted over his bulge, just for a second, before I pulled away completely. As much as I wanted to play him, I knew we had no time and several people waiting for us. “You can decide how.”

“That’ll do,” he chuckled, pulling me in for a kiss so bruising and passionate it almost knocked me off my feet. “I kind of need to run an errand before bus call anyway.”

“An errand?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you a cab to drop you off there and then I’ll see you in London, yeah?”

I worried about it immensely but there was no chance he was going to tell me anything so I nodded instead. I needed to get dressed and leave soon anyway if I was going to make it on time. Oli had already pressed his phone to his ear, the ringing loud enough for me to hear, but even with the other person picking up any minute, he couldn’t seem to help himself as he started at me and mouthed another I love you.

I couldn’t blame him. I wanted to tell him the same words for the rest of my life.

•••

Nick greeted me with a hug when I found him in the car park which felt new but not entirely unwelcome. He looked pretty fresh and awake which I took as a good sign. I hoped it would mean no one got terribly drunk last night. And that it ended on a good note, without any fights or insane stress to either party of the band.

“How was last night then? And this is not a small-talk question.”

Nick chuckled as he let me through the parked cars and busses. “Not terrible, which seems like a win. We let him know we were worried about him and he basically apologised which was unnecessary. There’s… a lot going on in his brain I think. But toward the end of the night he kept babbling about how he just wanted to talk to you, again and again.”

Nick caught my worried look immediately as we came to a half in front of the bus.

“He wasn’t drunk, don’t worry. He had like, two beers. I think he was just overly tired and… well, stressed. We got him into bed as early as possible but he’s a bit beat with the early start.”

“I think we all are,” I laughed, more to myself than anything else. I’d not gotten a single minute of sleep after Oli’s confession and neither had he. Which was why he was under strict instructions to spend the drive sleeping to at least have some sort of energy for tonight. I didn’t need to be responsible for him falling asleep on stage.

Nick agreed with a smile, unlocking the door. I was halfway to entering the bus when his hand on my arm stopped me.

“I think you could be good for him, you know. Both of you.”

I willed the blush to keep at bay. “Even Oli?”

Nick laughed, loudly bur earnestly. “Even Oli.”

•••

I found Noah in the lounge at the back, on his own, playing with his phone. He seemed surprised to see me there for a split second but then opened up his arms in a silent plea for comfort. Who was I to deny him. Leaving my bag right where I stood, I walked up to him, dropping down on the couch and pulling him into my arms. If they were anywhere close to being a safe place for him as his and Oli’s arms were for me, it was truly the least I could do.

He was so warm and comfortable against me that I silently hoped we would stay like this all the way until London. The motor of the bus had started, rumbling through the whole vehicle as we exited the car park, and I had to fight against the monotone lull that threatened to make me fall asleep. I wanted to talk to Noah first. Even if my eyelids were heavily protesting.

“Did you have fun with the guys last night?” I carefully asked.

Noah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he proceeded to sink lower and lower, shuffle in his seat until he was basically horizontal, and then put his head in my lap. I slid a little further as well, trying to make my thighs a comfortable pillow for him, and started combing through his hair with my fingers. I figured he was a little bit like Oli - even if he was ready to talk, sometimes it was simply easier to do so without having to look at the other person.

“I missed you,” he mumbled. “And Oli.”

“That’s very sweet, but not answering my question,” I chuckled, enjoying the softness of his strands on my palm. “I hope they didn’t stress you out too much?”

“No.” A sigh. “If anything I’ve been stressing them out. I’ve been a little irate with them for no good reason.”

“Disregarding your judgement of it, there was a reason for it though, right?”

“I guess so.”

I poked his shoulder, unsatisfied with the answer, which took him by surprise because he twitched so heavily that he almost rolled off my lap and the couch. I slung one of my arms around his middle, keeping him in position.

“I’ve just been thinking about what we’re doing, a lot,” he admitted. “And every time the guys teased me about some shit regarding you or Oli, it just hit a nerve because I wasn’t figuring it out and it reminded me of the fact that I had no idea where this was going. I shouldn’t have taken my moods out on them.”

“I think they understand.”

“I think they can’t risk losing their frontman,” Noah commented, but even he couldn’t stay serious at the idea, a light and airy giggle erupting his throat that I couldn’t help but join. “I apologized to them. And I’ll make sure to… talk to people instead of figuring it out on my own. And tell them if they’re crossing my boundaries.”

“Well done, Noah.” I grabbed one of his hands, briefly bringing it up to my mouth to press a kiss on it before dropping it again, then resumed to comb through his hair. “Have you… have your figured out some stuff, though? About… about what you want? I know we had that talk in the pub a while ago where we agreed on just fun but…”

I let the question linger in the air. Truth be told, I was terrified of being any more direct. Of asking him straight out. I had literally just figured some things out with Oli mere hours before, now I was in the eye of the storm of another deeply emotional conversation and it left me exhausted and on edge. The idea of being the first one to speak up about what I was feeling proved to be a little too much right now.

“I lied.”

The short statement caught me off guard. I didn’t realise the hand in his hair had stilled until he patted at it with his own, trying to get me to continue. Only when I did, did he resume speaking.

“I lied when I said that. I… I never really wanted to just have fun. But the idea of anything more than that terrifies me.”

I wanted to ask him if it wasn’t a bit late for that. If he thought going out on dates, spending day and night with us, learning all about each other, sharing so much more than kisses still meant he was in safe territory. If he believed that he could be in the middle of this without catching feelings. But I didn’t.

“What is it about it that terrifies you?” I asked instead.

“What doesn’t.”

The urgency to prod further, force him to explain was burning inside of me, but I knew it wasn’t fair. Noah was already being more honest with me than he had been in days. The least I could do was have some more patience.

“I think I need some more time,” he finally said. “I want- I want to figure this out. Can you give me some time? All these new things in my head at the moment. I’d never even kissed a man before and now-”

“Now what, Noah? You can say it, you know. I won’t judge.”

“Now I can’t stop thinking about being on my knees for him all the time and letting him do whatever he wants with me.”

The heat between my legs erupted as suddenly as it did forcefully. Whatever I had expected, it wasn’t a confession of this sort. Of this level of honesty. And now that the idea was planted in my head, I knew I’d have the utmost trouble thinking about anything else.

But this wasn’t about me and my arousal, not right now.

“I’m pretty sure Oli would love to do that for you, darling. All you have to do is ask.”

“Maybe you could tell him,” he replied, so quietly I was barely sure I’d heard it at all. “And… and I’d like you to be there too.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want? For me to tell Oli to do you however he pleases? That you… want to be a good boy for him? Be told what to do? And you’d let me watch, too? Maybe get a little involved?”

He squirmed a little underneath my hands, but ultimately nodded.

“I’ll let him know, love. We have a lot of time tomorrow before the show. A lot of time to explore whatever you want, okay? Maybe…” I took a deep breath. “Maybe it’ll help you figure out what you want a little more.”

I could only pray it would.

•••

“Do you know if Dom’s here yet?”

Oli was walking half next to me, half behind me as I made my way onto the floor of the arena, awkwardly trying to rub my sore neck that had been through hell after accidentally falling asleep on the bus with Noah for… a while. I shook him off when Becky waved me in to the sound booth, feeling strangely awkward about his public display of affection when we hadn’t quite told anyone about this new development in our relationship.

It was weird, really. Just yesterday, I wouldn’t have minded, knowing that people would talk and gossip if they wanted either way. Now that I knew he loved me, wanted me to be his and that we hadn’t let Noah, who was fumbling around with his mic on stage, know anything about it yet, I felt a lot more nervous about how everything could be interpreted.

“Who’s Dom?”

“Dominic Harrison. Yungblud.”

“Right,” I sighed. Apparently my brain was so full of questions about my bloody love life that I’d completely forgotten about the fact that Oli was going to perform Obey with him today. I attempted to visualise the agenda I’d double-checked just before, knowing Oli would have to fend for himself a little more now that I was helping Becky out. “No, not as far as I know. He’s scheduled to come in for soundcheck.”

“Ah, boring,” Oli complained. “Well, I’ll leave you to… whatever you two need to be doing here then.”

“Wait,” I called after him after he had already turned away. “What was that errand about? Everything go alright?”

“Everything went perfectly. You’ll find out later.”

He left me with a smug look on his face and an undefinable feeling in my stomach. Asshole. He knew very well I was going to be thinking about this for the foreseeable future.

At least work actually distracted me sufficiently enough that it wasn’t quite as torturous. Becky did her best to dumb down everything she was explaining to me to a level that my brain could at least somewhat process and I was very thankful for it. I could tell she wanted to throw all the technical jargon at me, but that would have simply ended up in even more chaos. It didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to learn - anytime we had a small break in between things that actually needed immediate attention, she explained every single step, every decision, every reasoning behind it in as much detail as she could and I soaked it all up like a sponge.

We successfully made it through Bad Omens’ soundcheck with minimal problems. Bring Me The Horizon went almost as perfectly, minus the fact that we now had to adjust Dom’s mic as well and Dom was so bloody excited about everything that he kept ignoring our questions and orders alike. Him and Oli were an explosive combination, but Oli looked so ridiculously happy that I couldn’t even be mad at them for slacking off.

“Alright, we’re done here for now,” Becky announced after we’d finally, somehow, managed to get both Dom and Oli in check enough to make sure they’d sound perfect on stage later. “You can take the next two hours off and then I’ll meet you back here?”

“Sounds perfect. Actually, I could very much do with a nap, maybe-”

“Aubrey!” Oli’s voice cut through the whole arena now that it was mostly quiet again. “Dinner with Dom and Noah! Come!”

I turned back to Becky with a sigh.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.”

•••

If I’d thought having dinner at our hotel right next to the arena meant that we might finish quickly enough and give me time for some shut eye, I was solely mistaken. Noah and Oli were quite chaotic as it was - but with Dom added into the mix, I was surprised we didn’t get kicked out for the ruckus caused. Every now and then, Dom and Oli would get into ridiculously specific anecdotes from their respective hometowns, their accents growing thicker and thicker until all Noah could do was stare at them in utter confusion and amazement.

“So, who here is fucking because I’m getting mad sexual energy from all of you guys.”

On top of it, he seriously lacked a filter. I watched Noah closely, waiting for the awkward blush to appear on his face, but it didn’t happen. He looked mildly uncomfortable at worst and he was definitely not going to be the one to speak up, but it was a world’s different to the last time someone had insinuated the three of us were more than friends.

Oli, on the other hand, was more comfortable than ever. Maybe it was that Dom was a close friend and he simply didn’t mind sharing with him. Maybe it was down to the fact that at least he and I had gotten closer to officially defining our relationship. I embraced it either way.

“Can you blame me? Look at these two!”

Now it was my turn to blush, caused entirely by the way Dom was eyeing me up and down, one eyebrow raised suggestively, the look in his eyes unmistakable. He gave Noah the same treatment which simply ended up with him fixating very hard on what was left on his plate, randomly shuffling some food around, just to avoid the stare. Apparently, Oli treating him like eye candy was one thing, an essential stranger a very different one.

“It’s pretty hard to escape Oli’s charms,” I mused, playfully kicking him under the table.

“Is that what you call his dick?”

Oli erupted in laughter as Noah sank deeper into his plate, but even that didn’t fully hide the grin emerging on his face. “Fucking hell, Dom, I’m gonna have to pay off the waitress to keep quiet if you don’t stop shouting through the place.”

“What, you didn’t do that before I came? Bad planning on your part, pal,” Dom chuckled, heavily hitting Oli’s shoulder. “Right, gimme the details though. You three hooking up or are we talking something more? Because you know I love me a good threesome. For sex and anything else. From experience.”

“Wait, you’ve been in poly relationships?” I couldn’t help but ask. I’d never personally had the chance to meet Dom, so most of my knowledge came from interviews or social media or whatever escapade Oli decided to tell me about. This was new.

“Sure! The more the merrier, I say! Well, up to a point, after that you just kinda lose track, ya know?”

“Was jealousy ever a problem?” Noah spoke up out of nowhere. He’d been so quiet I’d almost forgotten he was part of this conversation at all. And now he wasn’t just joining it but posing relevant questions. It was hard to keep my mind at bay when it came to the possible implications of it.

“In which way?” Dom asked, suddenly more serious than he had been all day. As if knew how badly Noah might need some answers. Some clarifications. Some reassurance. I didn’t want to be too hopeful, but it seemed like a good sign.

“What if…” He swallowed, hard, as if on the edge of pulling back, making a stupid joke, get his shield back up so we wouldn’t see his vulnerable side. So we wouldn’t know. But, to my utmost surprise, he didn’t. “What if there’s just a different familiarity between two of them because… because they’ve known each other longer and they live closer together and… yeah.”

Oli really didn’t need to kick me but he still did, as if there was any chance in hell I’d not understood what exactly Noah was referring to. I tried desperately to make sense of it before Dom would start speaking again. Did this mean he actually wanted this? Us? Were the insecurities holding him back? Did he think he wouldn’t be a full part of this relationship if he agreed to it? That Oli and I, somehow, had something between us he’d never get to the level of? I had a million things to say but I knew it wasn’t my turn.

“Nah mate, you gotta let go of that kinda thinking,” Dom said. He had pushed his plate away and was now leaning on his elbows, on the table, staring at Noah so intently that the latter had no choice but to listen. “History doesn’t matter like that when you get into a relationship and neither does distance. So what if they’ve known each other for years? Unless you’re joining an existent romantic relationship, this is new for all of you and you gotta figure out how the three of you work together.”

Noah nodded, gravely, before going back to playing with the scraps on his plate, as Oli and I exchanged worried looks. Or were they hopeful? It was hard to differentiate all the emotions coursing through me. I wanted to know more, figure out what else had been plaguing Noah’s mind, but it was clear his moment of bravery had run out.

“Any more tips for the newly polyamorous then?” Oli asked with a giggle in his voice. Noah briefly looked back up at him with something akin to shock but hid it quickly enough that I wasn’t sure if anyone but me had noticed at all.

“Get to know each other as much as you can and never take anyone for granted. Make the distance work for you. Get everyone as involved as you can, but remember that when someone feels left out because of things like being far away, it’s not a matter of the other two loving them any less.”

“I think that’s the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say, mate,” Oli laughed, causing a ripple of chuckles around the table as the tension fell off.

“And it’s gonna stay the wisest thing I’ll say tonight because as soon as I’m off that stage, I’ll get myself drunk, watch me.”

“Dom, you’ve already had two drinks,” I remarked, pointing at the empty glasses on the table.

“I never said I was staying sober until then.”

•••

The show went more than well. I had less time than ever to actually watch what the bands were doing on stage and just get myself lost in it, but now it felt like being involved, being part of it, in a whole different way. I was trying hard to keep up with Becky and her orders, but she kept enough of an eye on me that any mistakes were quickly spotted and fixed. It felt exhilarating. Even more so when I got showered in praise about how well I’d done for essentially my first ever life show afterwards.

Understandably, I was riding a high when I was picking up my stuff backstage, trying to figure out where everyone was. My phone quickly answered the question.

Oli You got a key to my room? Come round Got a surprise

Suspicious. Suspicious as hell, actually. Still, I did have that keycard and I couldn’t resist a good surprise. And with Oli behind it, there was no doubt I was going to like it. The walk to the hotel was quick, as was the ride up to the correct floor. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was expecting. Right now, it could truly be anything from Oli lying naked on his bed with whipped cream all over himself to a cosy movie night with my favourite hot chocolate.

Apparently, the surprise wasn’t a visual one though, because the only thing I saw when I opened the door to his room was Oli and Noah on the couch kissing so softly that it almost made my heart ache. They were fully intertwined, limbs entangled and all over each other and it gave me hope like nothing before ever had. That wasn’t making out or fucking for the fun of it. This was both of them pouring the emotions they couldn’t vocalise just yet into every single movement.

I briefly contemplated leaving, giving them some space and time, but I knew Oli had specifically asked for me and it simply felt too good to be alone with both of them once again. So, instead, I let the door fall back into the frame very, very gently, locking it for good measure. It was enough to get their attention. When they looked in my direction, both of them had glazed eyes and lips they’d kissed red and all I could think about was taking a picture to keep this image in my mind forever.

“Aubrey!” Oli called out, sounding as ecstatic to see me as ever. I was relieved to see Noah send a serene smile my way too. “First things first, your surprise.”

He was on his feet in an instant, rummaging through his bag. I shot Noah a look, but he simply shrugged his shoulders.

When Oli turned around again, his hands were behind his back, hiding whatever he had just located in his luggage.

“I know you’re not a fan of handouts, so I want you to know that this isn’t one, yeah?” Oli explained. “But I wanted to help out and I could, so I did.”

“Oli,” I whined. “Just tell me.”

“Just- before I give it to you, one more thing: This is completely on your terms and you decide how we do this, but… yeah.”

I didn’t immediately realise what I was seeing when Oli opened up his hand to me and revealed the item in his palm. In fact, I spotted the keychain first - the missing, beloved Powerpuff keychain I’d already assumed I would never see again, but here it was being offered back to me, now attached to-

Keys.

A pair of keys.

“Is that-”

“The keys to my place. Again, we can handle this any way you like, we can be roommates, I have a spare room I can empty out or you can just… stay with me. In my bed. And all. Up to you. But you have a place to stay, always. Temporarily until you find something new or… permanently. Okay?”

I wasn’t sure how I managed to let him finish his awkward and slightly jumbled speech before I all but jumped on him, arms wrapped around his neck, hanging on for dear life as I willed the tears to disappear. I buried my face in his shirt, hoping I wouldn’t leave a stain and I whispered words of gratefulness.

It didn’t feel like a handout. Not with him. Not when I knew he wouldn’t do this out of anything but love for me, never pity. And with the words we’d exchanged just that morning, it meant even more.

“Is that the errand you needed to run this morning?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, almost as if a little embarrassed. “I’d been planning to get copies made for you for a while but that was the only time I could fit it in.”

“I can’t believe you had the fucking keychain all along and I almost cried on Lee’s shoulder.”

The kiss I pressed to his lips through my giggles, with so much force that I almost toppled both of us over, said more than I could in words. It was only when I let go of him and caught sight of Noah out of the corner of my eye that I realised how awfully quiet he was. He smiled up at us from where he still sat on the couch, but it wasn’t the honest kind of smile he’d graced us with earlier. It was stilted and forced and I knew exactly why.

Luckily, so did Oli.

“And now, for the sad-looking doe eyes over there.” Oli made a little spectacle out of pulling another pair of keys from his luggage, dangling them in the air like a prized possession. “I really tried to steal your keychain too but it was fucking impossible because I couldn’t figure out where you had it, but you get a set too. If you want. I know you have a place and all that but… You’re welcome at mine any time, no asking or prior notifications needed. It’s yours to turn up to anytime.”

If anything, Noah now looked a little embarrassed, possibly at Oli so easily realising what he was battling with and fixing it so brilliantly. I could just imagine Noah’s head spinning thinking Oli wouldn’t care for him like that, only for him to turn it around completely and proving he had, in fact, thought about this situation long before Noah had even known it would exist.

Noah sheepishly took the keys, letting himself be pulled into another kiss by Oli.

“So pretty when you blush like that,” Oli mused, which only deepend the colour on Noah’s cheeks, but even he had to chuckle then. Another kiss ended up on Noah’s nose, then on mine, and it was so unexpected and unfamiliar that it had all of us erupting in giggles.

It continued like that. There was no need to discuss what we were doing as clothes started dropping on the floor, all of us overly tired but needy and touch-starved and willing to push sleeping just a little further back to finally be reunited as the three of us. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in a while and even though we all knew that there were things left to figure out and things left to say, just for the moment we let ourselves fall into the idea that this could be easy.

The clumsiness that came with it only spurred on the mood, Oli stumbling as he got stuck in his trousers, Noah throwing his own away and then immediately retrieving it to get the condoms from his wallet, neither of them succeeding in unhooking my bra until I swatted their hands away and did it myself.

I kicked my panties off without any further help, fearing we’d risk injury if we continued having any garments at all around us, and crawled up the bed, leaning back on my elbows, watching as Oli pushed Noah down next to me to kiss him again, their growing erections touching and letting moans erupt between them. I silently reminded myself to talk to Oli about what Noah had said earlier. Just seeing them together now manifested my wish to be there when they took their next step, if they let me.

“How about we get our girl here ready for us?” I heard Oli whisper against Noah's lips. “I get her nice and wet on my dick and then you finish her off.”

My breath audibly hitched, much to the amusement of both men next to me. In an instant, Oli moved from Noah to me, hovering over my body but denying me the kiss I was hoping for. Instead, his lips found my neck, leaving little love bites all the way down until they settled on my breast, eagerly lapping at my nipple until I was arching my back toward him, a hand tangled in his hair, quietly gasping for more. I didn't realise Noah was moving until I felt his mouth on my other breast. The pleasure was intense, shooting straight down my body as I wriggle under Oli. Both of them kept switching between sweet licks and kisses and teasing bites until I was sure I could feel the wetness drip from between my legs.

“One day, we'll make you come just from this, but tonight we've got other plans,” Oli grinned, pinching my nipple so hard that I cried out in surprise, briefly taken aback by how much I enjoyed the roughness of it.

I didn't have enough time to think about it when Oli and Noah removed their mouths from me, only for the former to descend on my pussy, leaving long, teasing licks on it before plunging it inside me. My hands immediately flew back to his head, but he only needed to look up and shoot a stare at Noah for the other man to understand. Immediately, my hands were removed, a tight grip on my wrists as Noah lifted them above my head, heavily pressing them into the mattress without any wriggle room.

“Come on, Aubrey, be a good girl for Oli. He's prepping you so nicely for our cocks. Doesn't have to do that, you know? We could just fuck you like this, see how much you stretch around us, how well you take us without any help.” I moaned so loudly at Noah's words that even Oli briefly lifted his head. “You want that, don't you? You want us to push your limits.”

Oli didn't give me a chance to confirm or deny as his strong arms flipped my body over on my front without any effort at all. Noah threw a condom at him, so perfectly in sync that I wondered just how much they had discussed beforehand. Oli pulled my hips up to meet his, his hard cock pressing against my arse while Noah grabbed onto my chin.

“How about you give me that mouth again while Oli fucks you good, hm? And don't you dare come until it's my turn.”

I complied willingly. Oli entered me slowly but in one single stroke until he was fully buried in me and my head dropped at the welcome intrusion, sweat prickling on my skin as I tried to accommodate his size. Noah didn't have any pity on me though as he sat down in front of my face, easily leading my mouth to his dick, forcing me to take it straight away. I moaned around his length as Oli started finding his rhythm.

“Fuck,” Noah moaned as he pushed my down a little further. “I've made some bad decisions but thank fuck they led me right here.”

“Yeah?” Oli piped up from behind me, briefly slowly down. “Some bad, bad decisions, Noah?”

The laugh ripped from my throat so harshly that I accidentally choked on Noah's cock before I freed my mouth, sputtering with giggles.

“Oh, come on,” Noah groaned, absentmindedly petting my head as he shot daggers at Oli.

“I'm just saying, you have a lot more sexy lyrics to choose from. Like the way you fuck, the way you taste and all that.”

I felt another bout of laughter rise up, but Noah obviously thought it was time to stuff my mouth again and pushed me back onto him.

“Why don't you stick to your own lyrics,” he mumbled, already getting distracted again by my tongue running along his length as I willed myself to take a little more every time.

“You know I might,” Oli remarked, resuming a hard rhythm that left me completely at his mercy. “I'm quite partial to I love the way you choke.”

The next thrust was even harsher, forcing me to indeed choke on Noah as Oli was now fully in charge of the way my body moved. Every time he almost pulled out, he dragged me back with him to the point where I barely managed to keep my lips on Noah's tip, then he pushed back in so doing that I came close to deepthroating him.

I loved it.

I loved being brainless, losing all my agency, being treated as nothing more than a little toy for them to play with. It had never been so incredibly obvious to me but I already knew I'd be begging on my knees asking for more soon.

Now, however, Oli was getting close, his moans getting louder and his movements a little sloppier and much too soon he was pulling out, wrecking me away from Noah and pushing me onto my back again. I watched, utterly restless and impatient and empty, as he shed the condom and started stroking himself. I'd expected him to ask to come on me, my tits, maybe my face but instead he was looking at Noah.

With a small nod, their communication completely silent, Noah moved toward him, slowly palming his own erection and within moments, Oli's eyes never leaving his, Oli came, covering Noah's chest and abdomen in beautiful streaks.

Oli fell onto the bed, utterly spent and showcasing a satisfied smile, but Noah was more hungry than ever. Fumbling with the night stand, he made quick work of putting on a condom, hissing at every touch as his thick cock immediately bounced against his stomach as he let go, before roughly spreading my legs and without any further warning pushed into me.

He was rougher than Oli, hovering over me as his arms caged me in, pressing his forehead to mine as he pounded into me so hard that I knew I'd feel sore tomorrow, but I welcomed it with open arms. I could feel the remains of Oli dripping on me, coating us both in it further. I let him push my legs backward, bent at the knees, almost folding me in half and the change of angle almost brought tears to my eyes. He felt even larger like this, moving against every single spot I craved with every thrust.

“Such a good little whore for us, letting both of us fuck you and just taking it all,” Noah groaned roughly. I was close to unravelling. “Can't fucking get enough, can you? Perfect little pussy that's just made for us. Come on, touch yourself, squeeze around me, I wanna feel you.”

It barely took a moment when I touched my clit, and when he gave me particularly hard thrust I all but screamed, grinding into him and against my hard, the whole world quieting down for a moment as my orgasm took me, prolonged by the way he sounded when he came too, nothing but bliss left in my body.

Oli welcomed me with open arms as Noah pulled out carefully, kissing my hair and whispering words of praise. A bottle of water was handed to me, then Noah appeared with a towel to clean me up. I hissed when he reached down between my legs, his rough treatment still tingling.

“Did I go too hard on you?” he immediately asked, halting his movements, worry in his eyes.

“No!” I immediately rejected his fears. “No, I loved it, honestly. Just a little sore now.”

He pressed a loving kiss to the inside of my thigh, then cleaned me up as quickly as possible. When he came back from the bathroom, he slid into bed next to us and I couldn't back bite a smile at the realisation that he'd chosen to lie down on Oli's other side instead of mine. He didn't hesitate as he moulded himself to Oli's back, looking so relaxed and comfortable. I crawled into Oli's arms too, noting that he looked just as happy about Noah's affections.

There were a million things running through my mind still. Questions about our relationship, about Oli’s and Noah's feelings for each other. A reminder I needed to speak to Oli about Noah's wish. A nagging desire to tell them I was realising just how roughly I liked it with them. But none of them made their way out of my brain as sleep took over all three of us, letting us fall asleep in a puddle of post-orgasmic haze and at least temporary happiness.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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algea · 1 day

Text

Ghoul School (pt 2)

prompt: when you get out of the hospital, Lars has put it onto himself to take care of you until you're healed. I can confirm that there is a big chuck of text where you're really pissed off at him before he gets his shit together!

warnings: tbh i literally dont even know. umm yeah your shin is broken and you're concussed so. things may or may not get a little steamy...cussing duh

a/n: im super mega surprised all my Lars stuff has gotten popular; i think it’s very insanely unhealthy how much i love James Acaster.

~ there are a LOT of little secret references to James in here, comment what you picked out ;)

~ also this is probably longer than the first part idk, but its officially the longest post ive written @jesssuperwholock03

~requested by @thestralluvr

Lars visited you everyday. Every morning, every evening after work, sometimes even over his lunch breaks, like clockwork. You were beginning to think it was seriously unhealthy. You were lying in the hospital bed, 4 days after the incident, with your eyes closed. You heard a soft click of the door and you cracked your eyes slightly. You, being oh-so-surprised, were met with the tired face of your crush colleague and work partner. He wore his jumper tied around his waist, a dark colored button up adorning his body. His hair looked disheveled, which could only mean he had just finished a job. He looked so tired, more tired than you've ever seen him be. It was annoying, honestly. Annoying how attractive he was without even trying. 'Why can't I look like that' you thought to yourself, mentally frowning. You decided to acknowledge his presence, seeing how he took time, again, out of his day to come and visit you.

"Lars." You stated, turning your head look over at him. Lars froze, gazing down at your solemn face. You started to reach out to him, but thought otherwise and rested your hand back on the crisp sheets. You watched as he pushed his glasses up and pulled a chair to sit beside you. Lars rested his forearms on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped.

"I was told that you'll be able to get out of here today." He whispered, his tired eyes searching your face. He was desperate for you to come back, back to how things used to be, where he would tease you, and you would always find witty comeback. But he knew you couldn't, not for a while at least. Lars was so scared you weren't going to be able to work for Ghost Corps anymore, especially since the concussion you got really fucked up your head. Not to mention your shin, which was a huge impact on you.

Lars let out a shaky breath. He unclasped his hands and ran one through his hair. You reached out, more confidently this time, and rested your hand on his. He didn't move his hand; he was scared if you let go, you'd disappear.

"Lars." You said again, your face flashing with worry. Your other hand softly touched his chin, holding his face so delicately.

"I'm scared that you're not going to come back." Lars stated, grimacing at the words that flew out of his mouth.

"Why wouldn't I come back? What made you think this?" You asked, your eyebrows drawing together in a sad furrow.

"I want things to be the same, I don't want things to change." He whispered quietly, his eyes cast down.

"I think you and I both know that it won't be the same, neither of us want to admit it. Normally, you don't go around kissing people and pretend like you hate each other for the rest of your life." You explained, searching his eyes for an answer. His eyes glanced back at you as his cheeks burned with pink. You tipped his head to the side ever so slightly, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

"That's unfair, Lars. You can't expect me to leave you alone after that." You pleaded.

"Can we just drop it? It really doesn't fucking matter right now.” Lars snapped. You drew your hand away from his face, hurt flashing across your face.

“What I meant was that we should focus on getting you out of here.” He frantically explained. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away again. Lars had never felt an emotion like this. His ears were ringing and his brain was hazy. It could’ve only been described as embarrassment. He wouldn't cry, no, that's not what he wanted to do. He wanted to apologize over and over again until you'd forget he ever did anything or said anything.

“I think it's maybe time for you to go. When I get out, do me a favor and send Lucky and Pheebs to get me.” You muttered, looking down at your hands. Lars sat there for a few moments, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say something, anything, to make you understand how he felt. Instead, he got up and, with a longing gaze down at you, left.

You felt hot tears sting your eyes, which you allowed to fall down your cheeks. If he wanted to play that dumbass game again, you could do it, just not like you used to. You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until he walked out of the door, not looking back. You slammed your hand down on the bed in a fit of rage, which turned into a soft cry. You wished that you could make better sense of it all, but your wishes never came true.

It was only 2 hours after that you were discharged. Lucky and Phoebe, just as you had requested, rushed in to see you as soon as they could.

"Y/N!" Phoebe exclaimed, running to you and giving you a big hug. You smiled and hugged her back, or at least as much as you could with your crutches. Lucky joined in on the hug before you parted and started making your way to the car.

"Everyone is so happy you're coming home! We've all been super worried." Phoebe smiled, giving you a big smile.

"I'm so happy I get to see you guys again, Pheebs." You grinned back, ruffling her hair. Your mind wandered to Lars as you crutched your way to the car.

"Has um..." You started, realizing that the words were harder to get out of your mouth than you thought.

"He's not here. I haven't seen him since we went out this morning." Lucky explained, catching on to what you were about to ask. You looked down and nodded. 'Of course, how could I be so goddamn stupid.' You thought. Phoebe helped you into the car while Lucky set your crutches next to you. Trevor was driving, which was a whole other risk to be taking.

"Since when did they let you drive?" You asked, grinning at Trevor.

"Since Lars bailed at the last minute. I'm a great driver, so I have no idea what you're even talking about." Trevor bragged. 'He bailed at last minute? He never does that...' You thought sadly. He could've just been working really hard on whatever science thing he was studying. You really didn't know, but it did cut a little.

You didn't know you were carsick until you let Trevor drive you home. You thought Lars was a bad driver, but you quickly realized that Trevor was on the list of 'Never-Ever Drive Me Again,' along with Gary and Ray. You made a mental note of that as you struggled to stand to get out of the car. Trevor quickly rushed to your side to help you, easily pulling you up. You casted your gaze up, which fell on the Firehouse. 'Oh good, he won't be here.' You thought, as a feeling of relief washed over you. You hobbled in next to Phoebe and Trevor with Lucky trailing in not far behind. Callie and Gary stood right after the door, waiting for your arrival. As soon as you entered the Firehouse they were by your side, giving you warm 'hello's' and 'I'm so happy you're back and ok.' You were quick to hug them, hoping to talk to them about your situation with Lars.

"Alright kiddos, time to let the adults talk." Gary clapped, shooing away the smaller kids.

"Hey but I'm not-!" Trevor started, but was dragged away by Lucky. You three sat down around a table. It was silent for a moment as you tried to say what was on your mind.

"Did he come see you?" Callie asked, leaning in close.

"He came and saw me everyday. Sometimes up to three times." You whispered, your hands clasped together. Callie and Gary looked at each other.

"But when he came and saw me this morning, he was different. He was super moody, and got upset when I tried to confront him about kissing me like you said for me to do. I don't know if he doesn't like confrontation or if he, yknow, might be seeing someone else." You went on, nervously biting your nails.

"Y/N, I seriously doubt that there's many women who actually like Lars, much less want to even date him." Gary said, using his left hand to talk. 'Is he right? But I'm sure women think Lars is attractive.' You thought, scrunching your eyebrows together.

"I'm pretty certain that you're like the only woman he's ever talked to in a romantic way, probably even the only woman he’s ever even talked to." Callie confirmed.

"Either way, he likes you. We all know that." Gary finished. You were really hoping he was right, otherwise you were a fool being played.

You chatted for a little while longer, mostly about anything and everything that came to mind. After a while, you told them that you were ready to head home.

"I'll drive you home." Callie said, standing up and grabbing the keys. The ride home was filled with you and Callie singing awful 80's songs, the vast majority of them by Tears for Fears. That was something that cleaned your soul and freed your mind a while. Callie helped you into your apartment before she left with a hug and a warm 'see you soon.' You were seriously hoping that your torture would end.

After a day, you got restless. So restless that you decided to go back to the lab and start working again. Yes, it was idiotically stupid. No, you weren't going to listen to anyone and take a break. Honestly it was going to happen anyways. You walked into the lab the first day, partially hoping that Lars was going to be there, but alas he wasn't. You felt disappointment but you were hopeful that you'd see him tomorrow. Except you didn't. More days past by and you hadn't seen any sign of Lars in the lab at all. You were starting to get more and more worried.

It had been more than a week and you hadn’t seen Lars since. Concern was growing and you were growing weary waiting for him to return. It was extremely hard taking care of yourself, especially since you had to trek a long ways to get yourself to your car outside of your apartment. Finally, you decided it was time to go see Lars. It pissed you off so much that you were running to him, instead of him coming to you. You knew his place, mostly because you, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lucky would sometimes prank him by doing something so absurd he would tremble with anger. That was back when you had your little schoolgirl crush on him, before you realized that you loved him.

You decided to walk, opting for the fact that he knows your car all too well. You weren’t even sure if he was there, you really didn’t even bother checking to see in your group FindMy. You didn’t even bother use your crutches because they were stupid anyways, you could walk just find even though you had a little limp. God you just wanted to fucking punch his stupidly handsome face. He made your blood boil so much.

You were only a few blocks from from his house when it started to rain. Not just a light rain, but a pour. You grew a little worried for your cast, but continued on. You were completely drenched by the time you were on his doorstep. Even worse, it was cold out. You stood on his doorstep for a minute before you started to knock on his door. You breathed out, seeing your own breath in the air. You were so cold. No one answered, which was pretty typical for Lars. He was probably standing in the kitchen, not going to open the door.

"Lars!!" You yelled, knocking on the door some more. Water dripped from your face and you shivered again. The door still didn't open. You sighed and started walking away, the pouring rain drenching you again. You started to tread back to your apartment when you heard a loud bang and turned your head. There Lars was, standing in the doorway, eyes wide as he stared at you.

"Y/N!" Lars yelled back, meeting you in the rain. He craned his head to look down at you, his hands flying to meet your face.

"What are you doing here?" He said, his thumb swiping at your cheek.

"I came to see you. Where the fuck have you been, Lars Pinfield?!" You boomed, your right hand gripping the front of his shirt. His head dropped and he closed his eyes.

"I...I couldn't face you after that dumb shit I pulled. I wanted to apologize, really I did, but I couldn't bring myself to face you." Lars explained, his breath creating a misty cloud. All that either of you could do was stare at each other incredulously.

“Are you fucking stupid? I’ve wanted to see you all week, but your dumbass wouldn’t show up. Jesus Christ Lars, do you have any clue how much I’ve missed you? You’re so goddamn unfair you know that?!” You screamed, pounding on his chest. Lars’ hands moved from your face to your waist, holding you steady while you angrily punched him. He could only see you through his hair, which now stuck to his forehead, and his rain covered glasses which were fogging up. He was freezing, but all he could ever think about was you. How cold were you? Why would you sacrifice your time, hell, your health to come see him. He really couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend why someone would ever do that for someone. You would think with him being such a genius he would figure it out, however some people can be dense. But he realized that you were giving up all your time to invest in him. So, he decided that he needed to do the same.

"Do you think, maybe, that you'd want to spend the rest of your life, with me, maybe not just hating each other. And maybe not while hating each other, you'd like to be with me, y'know, for a long while?" Lars whispered, causing you to stop throwing punches. You looked up at him, in all his rain drenched glory. God, he looked so beautiful. You began to tremble, your hands lifting to capture his face with them. Lars breath quickened, his large hands gripping your waist. His hazy blue eyes captured yours, holding you in his everlasting gaze.

"Lars..." You murmured, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip. It was soft, softer than you thought it would've been. You found yourself daydreaming again about kissing him, though you'd never let him know how many times you've done it. You realized how close you were after you felt his breath against your cheek. You leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his. It was like something out of a movie, the way time stopped then. When your lips pressed against his, your body shuddered. It was like fireworks went off inside of you, making you all jittery and excited. Lars' hands slipped from your waist to your ass, softly gripping the flesh there. You slipped your fingers into his blond locks, tugging lightly. You heard a light groan rumble from his chest as he pressed into you further.

You weren't sure if the rain mixed with the cold had made you delirious, but after Lars had pulled away, it made him look even hotter. His tousled, wet hair, his lips that were red after the kiss, the ruby flush that adorned his cheeks and ears, and his half-lidded eyes made him even more beautiful. You found yourself feeling heat creep up through your neck to your cheeks as he stared down at you.

“Shit, right, you need to get inside, now.” Lars commanded, dragging you towards the door.

“Lars—!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as he basically picked you up. Your hands fly to grip the shirt on his back as you hoists you over his shoulder. He muttered a few things under his breath as he strolled to the door, obviously not caring that the rain was coming down harder. Lars opened the door, set you down, and shut the door with the heel of his shoe.

“Give me a second.” He commanded, leaving you standing in the foyer. You shivered and looked around, noticing some things that seemed quite out of place. Lars had multiple different band posters framed and hung up around the house, most of them signed. You could pick out a few like Pindrop, Temps, and the Timewasters. You also found multiple different movie titles like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and other things. ‘Interesting’ You thought as you took in your surroundings. Lars appeared again with a towel and some sort of clothes he had found for you to wear.

“If you fuck up my good clothes, I’m kicking your ass to the curb again.” Lars sighed, throwing the towel at you.

“Whatever, brainiac.” You bit back, trying to hold back your grin as you shoved past him. That earned a scoff and an eye roll from Lars.

“Washroom is down the right hall, second door to the left.” He called, peaking down at you as you went to change.

Lars had never had a girl in his house before. Other than the times his mother and sister had come over from Britain, obviously. His “outside” friends insisted that he bring a girl home, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to when he could only think of you. It made him a little giddy knowing that you were here with him. It was like a fever dream, if he woke up it all would be gone. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure that there was a way to prove that this was real. Lars found himself wondering if you liked how his house was decorated, the clothes he brought you, even the way the house smelt. At the thought of these, he began to worry that you didn’t like it here. Those thoughts were denied when you waddled back from the bathroom, furiously rubbing at your hair to dry it. It was silly, really. Lars thought you looked a little too good in his clothes. His Temps T-shirt was too big for you, and his plaid pj pants were rolled a few times to even try and fit you.

“You look stupid in that.” Lars scoffed once more, looking anywhere but your face.

“Hey man, you picked this out. Don’t blame me for your shit style.” You tried back. A hint of a smile could be found dawning his face. You smirked and poked his cheek.

“Is that a smile I see? Is the Lars Pinfield smiling in my presence?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to fake gasp.

“No, it isn’t.” He replied, the smile growing wider on his face.

“It so totally is!!! Lars Pinfield is literally smiling right in front of me!” You exclaimed. He shook his head.

“Shut up. Anyways, I’m getting changed, don’t fucking break anything.” Lars sighed, sliding past you.

“You can put on anything, just as long as it’s not some stupid BritCom.” He added, shutting the door to his room.

“Who even watches BritComs…” You muttered to yourself. Walking back into the main foyer, you sat down on the sofa, which was surprisingly nice compared to how you thought your scientist boyfriend colleague lived. You sat down and flicked through the channels, stopping on whatever stupid romcom movie was on. You sighed and put your chin in your hand, anticipating the snappy response of ‘this is the shittiest movie I’ve ever seen.’

“Hey.” You heard from above you. Looking up, you saw Lars resting his elbows on the top of the sofa next to you.

“Hi.” You peeped back. Secretly, you were gawking at him. Lars wore a pair of white sweatpants and a black shirt. You’ve never seen him in casual wear, but you were absolutely loving it right now. His glasses weren’t pushed up, loosely sitting below the bridge of his nose, and his hair was still damp. If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what was.

“What’re we watching?” He asked, glancing down at you. You shivered when his eyes locked on to yours.

“Some stupid romcom, you probably won’t like it anyways.” You answered.

“You’re right, I’ll probably think it’s super shitty, but I’ll watch it anyways.” He sighed, tipping his head towards you. You reached up and placed a kiss on his lips. Lars scrunched his eyebrows and sighed. After you pulled away, you patted the seat beside you, beckoning him to sit down. He all but scrambled to get next to you, plopping down with another big sigh.

“How’s your leg?” Lars asked once more, motioning to it with his eyes.

“It has definitely seen better days.” You replied earnestly. He nodded in sincerity, then turned his attention back to whatever you were watching. You looked over at him again before reaching over and slipping your hand into his. He didn't move, so you considered it a win. Taking matters into your hands again, you slid closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Lars' head rested on top of yours immediately and you smiled as he snuggled in closer. You could smell whatever cologne he was wearing, a citrusy, vanilla smell.

"You smell good." You muttered, looking up at him through your lashes. Lars didn't reply, but you could definitely imagine the look on his face. That little embarrassed smile with a scarlet blush dusting his cheeks. You found yourself becoming a little sleepy as you settled in. Blinking a few times, you tried to wake yourself up, but that only made you even more sleepy. Unintentionally, you started to fall asleep. As you drifted off to sleep, you could hear Lars mutter something to you, but you didn't respond.

Somehow, in the middle of the night, you had moved from the sofa, to Lars' bed. Now you only had 2 options as to how you got there. 1. You sleep walked to the bed and magically laid down, or 2. Lars had carried you there. You groaned and opened your eyes, lifting a hand to rub them. You blinked a couple times and sat up. No, Lars wasn't in here. So then, where was he? You slipped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, finding that he wasn't there either. A cup of coffee and some breakfast was left on the counter, along with a note saying,

'I'll be back later, got a couple things I need to work on at the lab. I left you some breakfast and I'm sure you can fend for yourself for lunch. Please don't burn the house down. - Lars' You smiled and picked up the coffee, finding that it was still steaming. You noticed that Lars had made the coffee the way you liked it, which meant he definitely paid attention whenever you ordered it.

After basically spending the whole day exploring Lars' house, you settled into the sofa once more with a random book you had picked out of his bookcase. Hearing keys jingle, you lifted your head from the book and saw Lars venture in. You slowly got up, minding both your head and leg, and made your way over to him.

"Hi handsome, how did work go?" You smiled at him, leaning against the doorway.

"It was...eventful. I got thrown up on by pukey." Lars sighed. You laughed and patted his shoulder.

"That was probably hilarious. I'll make dinner while you take a shower." You said, pushing him along to the bathroom.

"Mmmm, fine. But..." He started before he swooped down and kissed you. Your hand flew to his hair, giving it a nice tug. With that came a loud groan. Lars' gripped your waist and pushed you against the wall. His tongue swiped at your lips, which you gladly accepted. You snatched his glasses and tossed them away, squirming slightly as his nails dug your waist. When he pulled away he grinned,

"Looks like I'm not getting my shower in tonight."

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield x you #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #james acaster #james acaster x reader

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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 days

Text

Everything Falls Into Place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff, worrying about not being able to adopt a child, anxiety

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: You and Steve start the process of adopting a child. There are a lot of steps that you have to go through, including a background check. You're worried about your past as Vixen is finally going to bite you in the ass. This is it. This is the other shoe you've been waiting for to drop.

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: social worker au (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Tick. Tock.

“What is taking her so long?” you sigh impatiently.

“She’s only been gone five minutes. Calm down,” Steve chuckles from beside you. Steve looks over at you to see you bouncing your leg from how nervous you are. You’re wringing your fingers together to keep yourself from biting your nails. “Y/N, you’re acting like a criminal who just got caught. Take a deep breath.”

“Steve, this woman is the decider on whether or not we have a child. Forgive me if I’m a little anxious.”

Your social worker, Amy, takes another ten minutes before she’s back in the office, and you let out a relieved sigh that she hasn’t kicked you out… yet.

“I am so sorry. We’re extremely backed up,” she says and takes a seat across from you.

“It’s no problem,” Steve smiles politely.

“So, you’re looking to adopt a child? It’s a big responsibility.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve actually been wanting this for a while now.”

“Why now? Why not then?”

You and Steve look at each other in thought. Maybe it’s because you two were out fighting in wars you had no business being in. Maybe it’s because you finally came face to face with Zemo again after so many years of being away from him, and you almost killed him. Maybe it’s because even though you think you’re ready to be parents… you’re actually not.

“We felt like the timing wasn’t right,” Steve finally answers and peels his eyes away from you.

“Have you always wanted to have children?”

“Yes, I have,” Steve answers honestly. “For as long as I could remember.”

“And you?” Amy asks.

“In the beginning, yes. I mean, when I was a lot younger. Some shit happened to me and I didn’t allow myself to feel that way until recently. Maybe in the last couple of years? I can’t have children biologically, but I do want one.”

“I never know how to ask this question despite how many years I’ve been doing this, but what kind of parents would you two be?”

“I can’t say for sure. How can anyone know for sure? We’ve never taken care of a child before. There will be obstacles that we might not know how to get over but I can tell you one thing. We will do our very best to make sure this child is loved, safe, and raised to be the best person they can be.”

“That’s a good answer,” Amy smiles and writes in her notebook. Steve rubs his thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly. “This is going to be a long process but I have confidence that it will go by quicker than you think.” She hands over a piece of paper to Steve. “Here is a list of everything I will be needing by the end of this week. Legal papers. You know how it goes. Next will be an extensive background screening for everyone living in the adoptive household. After that will be the in-home interview and inspection of the home.”

You don’t hear anything past background screening. What if they find out about Vixen? They won’t want to give you a child when they figure out how many people you’ve killed. What if they come for the home inspection and find your room of weapons? You’re not getting a kid.

“Okay,” you squeak out.

Steve notices your panic but decides not to say anything about it until you two leave the office building.

“What’s going on?”

“What if they find out about Vixen? The Winter Soldier? My time in Hydra?”

“They won’t--”

“What if they do?” you cut him off. “What if they don’t see me fit to be a mother? What about the guns and shit we have at the house? They’re not going to allow us to be parents with all that there.”

“Baby, you need to calm down. We’re going to do fine.”

His words go in through one ear and out the other. You hear him talk but you’re not listening to a word he’s saying. When you get home, you immediately head to the room with all your weapons and begin taking them off the wall. If you’re going to make this house suitable for a child, you have to make sure it’s safe for one.

“Y/N, it’s going to be fine.”

“No, it’s not. We live in a state where it’s illegal to carry outside your home. We aren’t even allowed to have this many weapons in the house.”

Steve knows you have to do this in order to make yourself feel better. He leaves you to box the weapons while he gets his phone out of his pocket. He calls Bucky, Sam, and Nat to come over because he thinks having them here is going to help you. He has always been the more level-headed one in the relationship which is why he’s being so calm about this. He has faith that everything is going to work out just fine.

“How long has she been like this?” Nat asks when she gets there.

“Since we left the social worker.” They know you and Steve have wanted a child for a while now. “Nothing I say matters.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Natasha says and walks into the room. “You doing okay?”

“No, I’m not. I have to get these weapons out of here. Can you keep them for a while?”

“Sure. You’re going to do just fine. If anyone deserves a kid, it’s you two.”

“No, it’s not okay. Amy is going to come in here and see all these weapons and she is not going to give us a child. This isn’t safe for one. Or she will know I’m Vixen and think wow, a mass murderer assassin doesn’t deserve a kid. Or she’ll know about Bucky, Thanos, and everything else we have done in our lives.”

“Would it help if we helped you?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Steve help clear out the room until it’s bare. This is the room you’re going to use for the nursery. You don’t have any supplies since you’re not sure when you’re going to be getting a kid, so you’ll keep it bare for now. Bucky and Nat take the weapons to hold onto until this whole thing blows over. Your house has a basement that you can put them into only until after the inspections are done.

On the day of the interview and home inspection, you have cookies baking in the oven to give the home a sweet smell. You have been cleaning all day to ease your worries. Steve is nervous as hell but less than you are.

“I think this is the tenth time you fluffed that pillow.”

“It has to be perfect.”

“It is. You are. It’s going to be fine.”

“I know. It’s going to be great,” you smile. Amy shows up on the dot, and you let her in eagerly. “Welcome to our home. It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you. Wow, smells good in here.”

“I have cookies that just left the oven. Would you like one?”

“No, thank you. I have two more visits to do. Not to sound rude but I’d like to get started right away.”

“Of course.”

You two lead her to the living room and sit across from her. Steve reaches for your hand and pulls it into his lap.

“To start with, why don’t you two tell me what you two do for a living?”

“We are employed with Stark Industries,” Steve says. Happy sends money to every Avenger on behalf of Tony. You don’t need a job when your job is saving people who need it. Does she not know you two are Avengers? “We make about two hundred thousand each every year.”

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“We love it. I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

“What are some of your hobbies?” Amy asks you.

“I love to sew. I love making my own clothes. I actually made my own wedding dress. It brings me peace whenever it’s just me, a needle, and some fabric.”

“And you?” Amy asks Steve while writing in her notebook.

“I like to draw, sometimes. I’ve been practicing more these days. I like to fish. We have a cabin up north that we like to go to when the weather is nice.”

“Tell me about your marriage, and how your relationship is with your significant other.”

You look at Steve and smile lovingly at him.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this man. He has saved me in ways you can’t possibly imagine. He’s my best friend. Sure, we have our ups and downs, but there is nothing we can’t accomplish together.”

“She said it right,” Steve chuckles. “I love her with all of my being. Our marriage has been nothing but great for these past few years. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“That’s sweet,” Amy smiles and writes. “Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”

“Both our parents are dead. We don’t have any living relatives,” you answer.

“To get with the technical questions, why do you want to adopt?”

“I’ve mentioned this before but I’m sterile. I can’t have children on my own. I know Steve wants a family. This is the only way I know how to give it to him. We don’t want to do fostering or a surrogate. We feel like it’s more our style to adopt.”

“What she said,” Steve chuckles.

“If granted the opportunity to adopt, what are your hopes for your child?”

“That they’re a good person,” Steve answers. “That they’ll see someone who needs help and will want to do that for them. Who will love unconditionally.”

“Alright,” Amy writes. “This is everybody’s least favorite section. I’ve done your background checks.” Your heart drops. This is it. This is where she tells you that you can’t adopt. “Now my main concern is your work with Hydra. You are the Vixen.”

“Were,” you correct. “I’m not that person anymore. Yes, I have done a lot of bad things in my life. Things you can’t possibly imagine. That isn’t who I am now. I have healed from that part of me. I got help. I made amends. I got Hydra out of my head. I don’t associate myself with those people anymore.”

“What about Bucky?”

“Bucky is healed, as well,” Steve takes over. “He went to Wakanda and underwent the same thing she did. They’re both trying to move on from their past.”

“That’s all it is, Amy. It’s my past. It’s not my present and it sure as hell isn’t going to be my future.”

Amy goes through more routine questions before she gets ready for the house inspection. You tell her the plans you have for the empty room which will be the nursery. She doesn't say much but she does write a lot of stuff down.

“Thank you for coming,” you say when she is done.

“I’ll be touch.”

As soon as the front door is closed, your smile is lost.

“God, we’re not going to get a kid. Did you see the look on her face when she mentioned Vixen? She knows I’ve killed before. What person would want me to be a mother?”

Steve pulls you close and lets you vent. “We won’t know more for a while. Let’s just try and keep a calm head. Even if she says no, we can try other avenues. We will be parents. You’d be a loving mother.”

And wait you did. For two long weeks. You thought that was their way of telling you that you weren't going to have a kid. Until your phone rang and changed your entire life.

“Hello?” you answer frantically.

“Hi, Y/N? I have some news regarding your adoption application.” You and Steve wait with held breaths. “I am very happy to say you’ve been approved. I can’t wait to work with you.”

“We can get a kid?” you ask tearfully.

“That’s the first part of the process. We have sent in your application to mothers who are looking to put their children up for adoption. If and when they pick you, I will call with the next steps.”

“Thank you so much.” You cry when she hangs up. “We’re getting a kid.”

Steve pulls you in and kisses the top of your head emotionally. You have to wait for a birth mother to pick you so until then, you just have to wait. Most couples wait months or even years to get called, but you get a call from Amy only a couple of days later with a date set to meet a birth mother who chose your application among a few others. You’re nervous as hell because what if she doesn’t pick you? What if she hates you as soon as she meets you?

You get to the office where the meetings are held and wait for Amy and the birth mother to come. Her name is Jessica and she is too young to be having a kid. She is only twenty-three and she doesn't want kids at this age. Maybe when she is older but definitely not now.

Jessica walks in and seems to be about six months pregnant. She just came back from meeting a potential couple, so you straighten up and smooth down your skirt to make yourself look more presentable.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you two. My name is Jessica.”

“Y/N and this is my husband, Steve. Thank you for seeing us.”

“Yeah, I was intrigued when I read about your hobbies and your work with Stark Industries. Did you know Tony?”

“Uh, yeah.” You look at Steve and have a silent conversation through your eyes. If she is going to pick you, she should know exactly who you are. “I hope this doesn’t affect us negatively but he’s Captain America and I’m… Vixen.”

It takes Jessica all of five seconds before she starts crying. This is it. This is where she runs for the hills and gets you blacklisted from ever adopting a child.

“Captain America saved my life,” she sniffles. “I was visiting a friend in Sokovia when Ultron happened. You saved me.” She turns to Amy and wipes her eyes. “I don’t want to see anyone else.” She looks at you with a teary smile. “I can’t think of anyone better to care for my child than you two.”

“I’ll get the paperwork started,” Amy smiles and leaves the room.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You’re getting a kid. You’re getting a kid. You’re finally able to start your own family.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fan fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

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zer0brainc3lls · 3 days

Text

Dating Lucifer Morningstar headcanons!!~

(Ugh look at this man I cannot)

(Authors note at the bottom!!)

• at first he would take you on lavish and expensive dates but after a few months he would calm down and have more at home dates, and the occasional expensive one (valentines day, your birthday, etc)

• absolute gentleman. He’s the kinda man to pull chairs out for you and kiss your hand

• covers you with his wings. All the time. It’s not even funny. 😭

• “I got you something while I was out today, I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you! I hope you like it!” Then it more expensive then a months worth of your rent 💀

• Best hugger/cuddler 😔 I mean he’s a DAD. high chance of you or him falling asleep 😭 he’s also VERY warm (wraps his wings around you because duh)

• if you didn’t live together he would message you goodnight, and Goodmorning and if you did live together he would do it in person and if he forgot he would apologise like a million times 😭 (I’m self projecting i do this)

• Good cook, like REALLY good 😻 and would 100% make meals for the two of you just because

• takes very good care of his wings, he takes a lot of pride in them!! And with that he usually doesn’t trust anyone else to do it.. except you tho. He doesn’t mind you doing it!! :D

• since he is the sin of pride he would be a little bit of a show off, with that he would show you off to!! He’s proud to be with you and he wants everyone to know!!

• Forehead/cheek kisses whenever he needs to leave the house or leave your side and a “hey I’m just going ____ I’ll be back darling”

• MASSIVE tease. (In all kinds of ways ;D) on the non s3xual side though he jokes around, play fights (never play fights hard, he knows his strength and would never hurt you) etc etc but couldn’t IMAGINE insulting you. Not a chance.

• “Ladies first!” Kinda man, if your not a lady he dgaf instead he would say “after you!”

• massive switch. That’s all I’m gonna say. 😉

Authors note!!~:

Heyyy!! Sorry for not posting for awhile ☹️ I have no excuse the fanfic writer curse hasn’t got to me yet, I’m just lazy 😭 sorry if this is kinda short!! I’m on holiday rn but I should be coming home tmr!!

WHAT CHARACTER DO YALL WANT NEXT?!?! GO TO MY ASKS OR COMMENT!!

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin headcanons #incorrect hazbin quotes

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kingofbodyrolls · 8 hours

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | sixteen

🐴Chapter summary: You help Yoongi rescuing some neglected and mistreated horses and then, a stranger drops by with some wild information that will alter the course of Jimin and Jungkook’s life.

🐴Chapter title: The Stranger

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: drama, mention of mistreated horses/animal cruelty, period pain (Jimin tries to ease MC’s pain 🥹), body massage, brief breast play, spanking, a lot of kissing again, Jimin is just being sweet (he’s making up for all the time he was a douche, okay 😭)

🐴Status: ongoing (to be completed on 2nd May 2024)

🐴Word count: 14.1k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “The Stranger” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: some parts of this chapter was very hard to write, but I hope it’s still okay! This chapter is very much a transition chapter lol, yes, important stuff happens, but yeah, you’ll see. Also, thank you guys so much for reading this story, for sticking with it 😭 It means a lot to me, and also every time you guys comment (some of you who have commented in the beginning, but stopped— are you okay? I’ve seen you like the rest of the chapters, but damn, I really get into my head, thinking you hate it now, and that’s why you stopped commenting, lol. But I also know that some of you are busy with life, work and studying, which is good), or leave me asks, like talking about the story in general or the characters, it’s been so much fun ❣️ Again, I want to say sorry, because I have mixed feelings about this chapter. It might seem slightly rushed (which it is), and it might shock you to know that this was always planned. But I hope it turned out okay in the end! I promise that next chapter is one that YOU DON’T WANT TO MISS 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m a done with writing the story 🥳 I just finished it and I’m feeling very emotional, like the ending 😭😭😭 (it’s happy tears). So that means that I’ll drop the remaining chapters as I see fit and earlier than scheduled (probably with 24 hours between them). I hope that you’ll still comment, reblog, like, give kudos and generally just interact, because I’m afraid that you won’t when I post the chapters closer together. But I also know some people are waiting to read until the whole series is done. Anyway, I want to thank you for joining me on the very emotional roller coaster ride 💖

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next (Saturday) →

“Yes that stranger Brings mystery into your life” ‘The Stranger’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Amidst the lingering warmth of a delightful dinner shared among friends, you, Yoongi, Jimin, and Soo-ah gather around the kitchen sink, the clatter of dishes and laughter filling the air as you work together to tidy up and stow away the remnants of the evening’s feast.

Jimin shuttles tirelessly between the bustling kitchen and the dining room, bearing an array of steaming pots and pans brimming with savory delights, while Soo-ah efficiently transfers the culinary treasures into containers destined for the fridge or freezer. The kitchen hums with activity as Jimin and Jungkook’s culinary prowess shines through once again, ensuring an ample supply of delicious fare for all present.

At the sink’s edge stands you and Yoongi, a dynamic duo in the post-dinner cleanup brigade. Your hands deftly wield suds and scrubbers, coaxing remnants of culinary delight from plates and utensils, while Yoongi’s skilled hands swoop in to dry or load the dishwasher with practiced precision. Together, you orchestrate a symphony of cleanliness, ensuring that each piece finds its place in the grand choreography of post-meal tidying.

Amidst the clatter of dishes and the rhythm of your shared tasks, a lively exchange of banter ensues between you and Yoongi, punctuated by shared laughter and good-natured chuckles.

At times, Jimin saunters over to your side, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down your back and lingering provocatively on your curves, eliciting a delicious shiver that dances along your spine. With a mischievous grin, he retreats as swiftly as he arrived, returning to his culinary duties alongside Soo-ah, leaving you to catch your breath amidst the lingering sensation of his teasing touch.

As Yoongi leans in closer, a flicker of curiosity dances in your eyes, prompting you to meet his gaze with a quizzical expression. With a subtle tilt of your head, you offer a small smile, your hands deftly maneuvering a plate beneath the cascading water as you await his next move with intrigued anticipation.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Yoongi starts, leaning closer into your side with a conspiratorial air, his voice dropping to a low murmur meant for your ears only. A playful glint dances in his eyes as a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “But you’ve got a little something in your hair,” he reveals, gesturing subtly to the stray wisps of hay that have nestled themselves into your locks, punctuating his observation with light-hearted amusement.

A rush of fear and embarrassment floods your wide eyes, igniting a fiery blush that paints your cheeks and neck in a kaleidoscope of pink hues, accentuated by the lingering traces of purple marks adorning your skin.

Yoongi’s hand ascends to your hair, deftly plucking out a few stray strands of hay, and a wave of mortification washes over you at the sight of the offending debris caught in his grasp. Across the kitchen, Jimin catches a glimpse of the scene, his chuckle floating through the air like a whispered secret before he disappears from view, leaving you to contend with the embarrassment in the aftermath.

“Did you have a good roll in the hay?” Yoongi’s voice rings with playful amusement, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he teases you, a giggle bubbling forth at the sight of your bemused expression.

As the water ceases its flow, you stand there, arms crossed beneath your chest, a sudden realization dawning upon you. The memory of your not-so-silent escapade in the stables floods your mind, causing a flush to rise to your cheeks and a hint of embarrassment to flicker in your eyes.

He continues to pluck away the stubborn remnants of hay from your hair, and a shared laughter bubbles forth between you, mingling with the lingering traces of embarrassment. Despite the slight blush staining your cheeks, the infectious joy in Yoongi's laughter draws out your own.

“You’re welcome by the way,” he quips, flashing you a playful wink as he grabs a bowl to dry with the towel, his gesture laced with a hint of mischief.

The weight of gratitude settles upon you as you fully grasp his unspoken act of rescue, sparing you and Jimin from a potentially embarrassing discovery. Meeting his gaze, you convey your heartfelt appreciation. “Thank you,” you whisper, the words carrying the weight of unspoken understanding and relief.

His smile widens, punctuated by a playful swat with the towel against your arm. “No biggie,” he reassures with a casual shrug, his easy going demeanor underscoring the depth of his friendship and the simplicity of his gesture.

Soo-ah pivots, her gaze locking onto you with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “What are you talking about?” she inquires, her voice tinged with a hint of anticipation, as if sensing that the conversation holds secrets yet to be revealed.

With the food safely stowed away in the fridge and freezer, Soo-ah strides over to Yoongi’s side, her eagerness to lend a hand evident as she joins him in the task of drying the dishes you’ve diligently cleaned.

You shake your head, a silent plea to Yoongi not to reveal the details, preferring to keep the incident in the hay room of the stables under wraps. “We’re talking about the hay room in the stables,” yet, Yoongi’s words cut through the silence, laying bare the topic of conversation before Soo-ah.

Your eyes widen in a silent plea, urging Yoongi to respect your wish for discretion, but when he divulges the topic anyway, you react instinctively. With a stern hit to his arm, he recoils with an audible “ouch,” a testament to the force of your reproach and the gravity of the situation at hand.

“What about it?” Soo-ah’s question hangs in the air, her eyes alight with curiosity, a spark of intrigue dancing within their depths as she awaits your response, poised on the edge of anticipation.

“It’s a popular spot,” Yoongi remarks, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as his eyebrows wiggle suggestively, “for hooking up.”

A rosy blush spreads across her cheeks as she turns to you, her laughter bubbling forth like an irrepressible fountain. “Is that why you have hay in your hair?” she quips, the realization dawning on her with a delightful twinkle in her eyes.

You grumble and huff, unable to hide your exasperation. “Has everyone noticed?” you grouse, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration creeping over you.

Jimin returns to the kitchen at precisely this moment, his keen eyes catching sight of your discontented demeanor. Without hesitation, he crosses the room to your side, his hand gently finding its place on your hips as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your neck, his comforting presence a soothing balm to your unsettled emotions.

You pivot to meet your boyfriend's gaze, a mix of curiosity and amusement playing across your features. “Did you know I had hay in my hair?” you inquire, a hint of playful accusation lacing your words as you await his response.

His eyes flicker to your hair, and a burst of laughter escapes his lips, mirroring the reaction of Soo-ah and Yoongi. With a gentle pat on your head, his hand traces a tender path down your face, delicately caressing your cheeks before coming to rest on your bottom lip. “I had no idea,” he confesses softly, his tone tinged with regret.

“But you still look stunning, even with a little hay in your hair,” he murmurs, drawing you close as he presses his lips to yours. In that moment, all traces of anger and embarrassment melt away, replaced by the warmth and reassurance of his affectionate embrace. The kiss is deep and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world.

Beside you, Yoongi’s suppressed snickers fill the air.

“If you two scoot over a bit, I can take care of the rest,” Yoongi suggests, his chuckle carrying a hint of amusement as you and Jimin gladly make room for him in front of the sink.

You gaze up at Jimin’s face, noticing the adorable scatter of moles across his features, adding to his irresistible charm. “Would you like to join me for a bath?” you propose, a playful twinkle in your eye as you extend the invitation.

He hums softly, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and desire. In that moment, you can feel the depth of his love radiating from him, intertwined with a hint of excitement at your proposal. “Absolutely,” he responds, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “I’d love nothing more than to pamper you, scrub your skin and wash your hair.”

A grateful smile graces your lips as you reflect on the depth of your appreciation for him and all the ways he shows his care. The thought of him eagerly offering to wash your hair and tend to your body fills you with a profound sense of gratitude, a feeling you’ve never experienced with any previous partner.

Soo-ah’s gasp beside Yoongi prompts a swift turn of her head towards you and Jimin, her eyes widening in disbelief. “He washes your hair for you?” She exclaims, her voice tinged with both surprise and admiration. The sight of her puppy-dog eyes and genuine happiness paints a poignant picture, her wistful longing palpable as she expresses her heartfelt sentiment. “That’s absolutely sweet,” she continues, her words laced with a hint of envy. “I wish I had a boyfriend like that, or even just a boyfriend at all.”

You offer Soo-ah a compassionate smile, your heart swelling with gratitude for Jimin and the abundance of love he showers upon you. His arms envelop you in a tender embrace, his words a soothing melody that resonates deep within your soul. “Anything for my love,” he murmurs, his voice infused with sincerity and devotion, reaffirming the depth of his affection for you.

You tenderly press your lips to his, intertwining your fingers with his as you lead him away from the kitchen and into the bathroom. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you lock eyes with him, pouring your heart out in a soft declaration of love. “I love you so much, Jimin,” you whisper, sealing your words with another lingering kiss. With playful excitement, you gently guide him into the bathroom, a chorus of smiles and giggles filling the air as you close the door behind you, cocooned in the warmth of your love for each other.

Rumors have been swirling around town lately, particularly at the local bar, alleging mistreatment of horses at a neighboring farm—an unsettling notion that strikes a chord deep within Yoongi. Compounding his concern is the fact that some of these horses are the very ones you’ve spent countless hours training. Feeling a sense of responsibility and urgency, he grapples with the realization that action must be taken, though the path forward remains unclear.

Deep in contemplation, Yoongi grips his beer tightly, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily upon him. With a determined resolve, he sets his drink down on the bar and strides purposefully out of the building, his steps carrying him through the winding streets and straight to the doors of the police station. There, he hopes to find allies in his quest to liberate the mistreated horses from the clutches of their neglectful owner.

Stepping into the dimly lit confines of the police station, Yoongi's determination radiates from every fiber of his being as he seeks out an officer, his plea for assistance delivered with earnest conviction. Yet, his hopes are dashed when he learns that without concrete evidence against the horse's abuser, the hands of the law are tied. Disheartened but undeterred, he offers a begrudging nod of gratitude to the officers before turning on his heels and trudging out of the building, the weight of his disappointment heavy upon his shoulders as he makes his way back to his truck.

As darkness cloaks the landscape, casting shadows that dance across his determined features, Yoongi’s mind churns with purpose. The officer’s words echo in his mind—a relentless reminder of the need for concrete evidence to bring justice to the abuser of these innocent animals. With a determined resolve, he inserts the key into the ignition, igniting the engine with a determined hum as he steers his car back towards Bell Ranch. But just as he nears the familiar route, he makes a split-second decision, veering off the path towards the ranch of the despicable man he's heard so much about. If only he had been aware when he sold some of your horses to him—had he known, he would never have allowed it to happen. Now, knowing that Holly, one of those horses, is among the mistreated, his heart weighs heavy with regret and anger. Unable to stand idly by while these animals suffer, Yoongi’s sense of duty propels him forward, his resolve unyielding in the face of injustice.

With a keen sense of caution, Yoongi refrains from driving directly to the ranch—after all, he’s no fool. Instead, he parks his car discreetly further down the road, determined not to arouse any suspicion. With his camera firmly gripped in his hand, he embarks on the remaining journey to the ranch on foot, each step a calculated move towards uncovering the truth hidden within its confines.

Indeed, this clandestine excursion had been meticulously plotted long before his visit to the police station—a testament to Yoongi’s unwavering determination to seek justice for the mistreated animals. With a resigned acceptance of the limitations of official channels, he had braced himself for the realization that the burden of action rested squarely upon his own shoulders.

As Yoongi stealthily approaches, his gaze locks onto the scene before him—a chilling image of cruelty unfolding right before his eyes. There stands the man, lazily lounging one of the horses, its fur matted and cut short along its legs, bearing silent witness to its mistreatment. His blood boils at the sight, a surge of empathy coursing through him for the suffering animal. In the man’s hand, a cruel whip glints in the dim light, its menacing presence a stark reminder of the pain and coercion inflicted upon the helpless creature to force it to perform.

Despite the rising nausea in his gut, Yoongi steels himself and raises his camera, capturing the harrowing scene before him in a series of haunting images. Every click of the shutter serves as a painful reminder of the injustice unfolding before his eyes. His heart aches with the urge to intervene, to rescue the suffering horse from its tormentor’s grasp. The crack of the whip and the horse’s pained whine fuel his righteous indignation, threatening to shatter his resolve as he fights the urge to rush forward and confront the evil man.

Yet, as much as he longs to intervene, a nagging sense of caution restrains him—instinctively aware of the potential repercussions should he act impulsively. With a heavy heart, he resigns himself to the agonizing reality that capturing evidence through his camera lens is the safer course of action, despite the torment it inflicts upon his soul. Each click of the shutter serves as a solemn vow to seek justice for the abused horse, even as it tears at the very fabric of his being.

With a heavy heart, he ventures deeper into the heart of the ranch, his steps echoing in the dimly lit stables. Each stall he passes reveals a new horror—every horse bearing the cruel scars of neglect, their once majestic forms now reduced to emaciated shadows of their former selves. Anguish courses through him as he stands witness to their suffering, his fists clenching in futile rage.

As he continues down the aisle, his gaze falls upon Holly—a wave of devastation washing over him at the sight of his old friend. She stands before him, a mere shell of her former self, her once graceful frame now reduced to a skeletal silhouette. Her hooves are overgrown, her coat matted and unkempt, a testament to the neglect she has endured. His hand trembles as he reaches out to comfort her, but she flinches away from his touch, a painful reminder of the betrayal she has suffered. A single tear escapes his eye, tracing a path down his cheek as he stands helplessly before her, consumed by a sense of despair.

His heart plummets like a stone to the floor, shattered by the heartbreaking realization that Holly no longer seems to recognize him. Her gaze is distant, devoid of the spark of recognition that once lit up her eyes, and the pain cuts deep into his chest like a knife. With a heavy heart, he raises his camera, each snapshot a painful reminder of the profound loss he feels inside. Despite the searing ache that grips his soul, he is determined to capture every detail of her suffering, a silent vow to stand witness to the injustices inflicted upon her.

With a heavy heart and a mind fraught with determination, he concludes that the harrowing scenes he's documented are evidence enough to expose the horrors endured by these innocent creatures. However, his mission is far from over—he must now navigate the treacherous path back to his car without drawing the attention of the ranch's owner or his cronies. Every step he takes is laden with tension, every rustle of leaves a potential threat, as he maneuvers through the shadows, his heart pounding with the urgency of his mission.

With his camera clutched tightly in his hand, Yoongi sprints back to his truck, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like wildfire, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Each breath comes in ragged gasps as he propels himself forward, his palms slick with sweat, the weight of his mission bearing down upon him like a crushing weight.

Finally reaching his truck, he flings open the door and slides inside, the engine roaring to life beneath him as he tears away from the ranch in a whirlwind of desperation. As the miles blur past, his mind reels with the stark reality of what he has witnessed—the sheer magnitude of suffering far surpassing anything he had ever imagined.

The image of Holly, once vibrant and full of life, now reduced to a mere shadow of herself, haunts him relentlessly. Anguish gnaws at his soul as he grapples with the knowledge that he cannot stand idly by while such atrocities continue to unfold.

Determined to be the voice for those who cannot speak for themselves, Yoongi vows to take action—to put an end to the cycle of cruelty and neglect that plagues these innocent creatures.

As he pulls into the yard, Yoongi’s gaze scans the surroundings, his heart skipping a beat when he catches sight of you—your figure moving gracefully across the yard, a beacon of warmth and familiarity amidst the darkness of his thoughts. With a sense of urgency, he calls out to you, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night, and watches as you turn towards him, your steps quickening as you close the distance between you.

“What are you doing out so late, Yoon?” you inquire, a radiant smile gracing your lips, your eyes alight with a joy that Yoongi finds utterly captivating. In that moment, he can’t help but marvel at the sheer happiness radiating from you—more vibrant and infectious than he's seen in a long while. It dawns on him that maybe Jimin’s presence in your life has brought about this newfound joy, and despite any personal struggles he may have, he's genuinely thrilled to see you flourishing in the embrace of love.

His gaze snaps up to meet yours, a flicker of intensity dancing in his eyes. “Just taking some pictures,” he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency as he raises his camera, its presence a tangible reminder of the weighty mission he's undertaken. Intrigued, you follow his gesture, your eyes locking onto the camera in his hand, curiosity sparking within you as you ponder the significance behind his late-night photography session.

You reach out for it, your hand extending eagerly as you inquire, “Can I see?” But in your eagerness, you bypass the customary waiting for his response, instead seizing the camera from his grasp with an impulsive determination. With practiced ease, you power it on, your fingers deftly navigating through the digital gallery of images, each click of the button revealing another glimpse into the horrorful world he’s captured through his lens.

He watches intently as your eyes widen in shock and a deep furrow creases your brow, your reaction a visceral testament to the gravity of the images before you. Each flicker of discomfort that crosses your features is like a dagger to his heart, a painful reminder of the suffering he’s witnessed and the burden he now shares with you. Despite his desire to shield you from such distressing sights, he remains steadfast.

“What’s this?” you inquire, your voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and unease as you return the camera to his outstretched hand. The tremor in your voice doesn’t escape his notice, a stark indication of the emotional toll wrought by the distressing images you've just been confronted with. In that moment, he’s acutely aware of the weight of his actions, grappling with the realization that his quest for justice has inadvertently exposed you to a world of suffering that he would have shielded you from if he could.

“I heard about this guy mistreating his horses, so I went to take a look for myself,” he explains, his voice tinged with a potent mix of frustration and righteous indignation. Each word carries the weight of his emotions, his tone a reflection of the deep-seated anger and despair that churn within him. “It’s horrible,” he concludes, his voice heavy with the weight of the injustices he's witnessed, his resolve hardened by the stark reality of the situation.

“We have to do something about it!” you declare, your voice ringing with a resolute determination that commands attention. As you speak, a fierce resolve animates your features, your eyes ablaze with an unwavering commitment to righting the wrongs you've just borne witness to. The subtle set of your lips into a firm line only serves to underscore the steely resolve that propels your words forward, a silent vow to take action in the face of injustice.

He scuffs, the sound underscored by a palpable frustration that permeates the air. “That’s why I gathered evidence,” he admits, his words carrying the weight of his determination and the gravity of the situation they find themselves in.

“No, Yoongi. We can’t wait any longer. We have to save the horses, now,” you implore, your voice laced with urgency and a hint of desperation. With every word, you convey a sense of urgency that underscores the dire need for immediate action. Your plea carries the weight of compassion and empathy, a heartfelt call to arms in defense of the innocent creatures suffering at the hands of cruelty.

He gapes at you in disbelief, grappling with the gravity of your suggestion. The intensity of your conviction leaves him momentarily stunned—of course he wants to save the horses, but what you’re proposing borders on the edge of legality. The weight of the potential consequences looms heavy in his mind, a sobering reminder of the risks they would be undertaking.

“I don’t care about the potential repercussions. Those poor horses need us,” you declare with unwavering determination, your voice resonating with an urgency that brooks no argument. With each word, you convey a sense of righteous indignation and compassion, compelling him to action with the sheer force of your conviction. Your plea reverberates in the air, a rallying cry that demands immediate attention and action.

“Holly is one of the horses,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with defeat, a tinge of sorrow coloring his words. With a resigned gesture, he kicks at the stones scattered across the dirt, the sound echoing the weight of his disappointment and anguish. In that simple statement lies a world of pain and regret, as he grapples with the harsh reality of seeing his beloved horse subjected to such cruelty.

“What the fuck are we waiting for?” You exclaim, your frustration palpable as you confront him with a fierce intensity. It’s clear that you've reached your limit with his indecision, and with a swift motion, you deftly snatch the keys from his hand. Without hesitation, you move past him, swinging open the driver’s door and sliding behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life under your command. “Get in, Yoongi,” you command, your tone leaving no room for argument as you signal your unwavering determination to take action.

You sound furious, and maybe rightfully so—he feels the same anger coursing through his veins. Damn it, he wants to save them too. With a heavy heart, he slides into the passenger seat, yielding to your determination as you take control of the wheel. As you speed back towards the ranch, his directions guide your path, a silent acknowledgment of the shared resolve burning within both of you to make a difference.

The drive is brief, but each passing moment feels weighted with anticipation and purpose. He directs you to park in the very same spot where he had stopped earlier, a silent reminder of the urgency and gravity of the mission ahead. As you bring the vehicle to a halt, the air crackles with tension.

You both leap out of the truck, propelled by a shared sense of urgency and purpose, and advance towards the ranch shrouded in darkness. Despite the obscurity that surrounds you, you navigate effortlessly towards the stables, your determination cutting through the night like a beacon. With a heavy heart, he leads you to Holly’s stall, where he reveals the heartbreaking sight of her current condition. As you lay eyes on her, a deep furrow forms on your brow, your expression mirroring the anguish and sorrow that grips your soul at the sight of her suffering.

With a determined resolve, Yoongi cautiously swings open the stall door, his movements deliberate as he beckons Holly to approach him in the enveloping darkness. The dimness cloaks your actions, a deliberate choice to avoid drawing unwanted attention to your clandestine mission. In the shadows, you both stand poised, silently willing Holly to trust you amidst the palpable tension that hangs thick in the air.

“Come on, girl,” Yoongi murmurs in a soothing tone, his voice a gentle melody cutting through the stillness of the night as he endeavors to coax Holly out of her stall. Despite his best efforts, however, the bond between them appears strained, the connection faltering in the face of Holly's evident apprehension. Each whispered plea hangs in the air, an earnest plea for trust and understanding in the midst of uncertainty.

Suddenly, the harsh glare of light floods the stable, casting stark shadows that betray your presence in the otherwise darkened space. In that moment, a shared realization dawns upon both of you—an unspoken acknowledgment that your covert mission has been compromised. The abrupt illumination serves as an ominous harbinger of trouble, a stark reminder that your clandestine efforts to rescue Holly have been uncovered, plunging you both into a perilous predicament.

You move closer to Yoongi, seeking solace and solidarity in the face of impending danger. Side by side, you stand united in front of Holly, a silent bastion of strength amidst the encroaching threat. As the man draws nearer, the air crackles with tension, but you refuse to falter, bolstered by the unspoken determination to protect each other and the helpless creature before you.

“Who’s there?” his voice cuts through the tense silence, laden with an ominous weight that sends shivers down your spine. Each heavy footstep reverberates ominously, signaling his approach with a menacing cadence. As he draws closer to Holly's stall, the air hangs heavy with anticipation, the imminent confrontation looming like a shadowy specter. With bated breath, you brace yourselves for the inevitable encounter.

“What are you two doing here?” He demands, his voice a sharp echo slicing through the tension-laden air. His gaze pierces through you with a mixture of confusion and displeasure, each furrowed brow and narrowed eye conveying his suspicion and disdain. In that moment, you feel the weight of his scrutiny bearing down upon you, as if every syllable is a challenge that demands an answer—a challenge you must navigate with caution and cunning.

You seize Yoongi’s hand with a fierce intensity, your grip conveying a tidal wave of pent-up anger that courses through your palm like a surge of electricity, pulsating with raw emotion. In that charged moment, he can feel the seething rage reverberating within you, mirroring the tumultuous turmoil that churns within his own being. It’s as if the palpable fury radiating from your touch connects you both in a shared symphony of indignation, binding you together in defiance against the injustice unfolding before you.

“This is cruelty!” Your voice rings out, sharp and resolute, carrying the weight of your indignation like a battle cry echoing through the stillness of the night. With a pointed gesture, you direct the man’s attention towards Holly, your anger etched in every line of your face.

The man scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips like a venomous taunt that pierces through the solemn air, leaving a bitter taste in its wake. Your reaction is visceral, a wince born of both frustration and disgust, as you recoil from the callousness of his response.

“We are taking the horses,” Yoongi declares, his voice cutting through the tension like a clarion call, his stance resolute as he steps protectively in front of you. In that defiant gesture, he embodies a steadfast determination to stand against injustice, his words echoing with unwavering resolve amidst the turmoil of the moment. Beside him, you feel a surge of solidarity, your spirits bolstered by his unwavering courage in the face of adversity.

“You’re stealing them?” The man’s voice crackles with incredulity, his tone laced with a volatile mix of irritation and anger that threatens to erupt like a smoldering volcano. His accusatory gaze pierces through the darkness, locking onto Yoongi with a searing intensity that demands an explanation.

“No. We’re saving them,” you declare with unwavering conviction, your voice ringing out with a resolute clarity that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of righteousness. With your chest thrust forward and your head held high, you exude a palpable aura of strength and determination, commanding respect in the face of adversity. In that defiant stance, he finds himself admiring your unwavering resolve, your steadfast commitment to standing tall in defense of what you believe is right, no matter the cost.

“That sounds like stealing to me,” he scoffs, his laughter bitter and laden with contempt, a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. With a cynical twist of his lips, he retrieves his phone, his intentions clear as he prepares to summon the authorities. Yoongi can sense the impending threat, the urgency of the moment weighing heavily upon him as he bristles with anticipation, poised for whatever comes next.

You both watch in dismay as he dials the police, the harsh reality sinking in as he locks the stall door, trapping you both inside with no means of escape. The metallic clang of the lock reverberates through the stillness of the night, a chilling reminder of your precarious situation. In that confined space, tension hangs thick in the air, your hearts pounding in unison with the weight of impending consequences bearing down upon you.

“The police are on their way now,” he chuckles with a menacing edge, his voice dripping with satisfaction at having cornered you in this precarious predicament.

Aware of the imminent danger looming over both of you, Yoongi’s mind races with desperate determination. Amidst the chaos, a flicker of hope ignites within him as he recalls the evidence stored safely in his truck—undeniable proof of the atrocities witnessed tonight. If only he could reach it in time, if only he could present it to the authorities when they arrive. With every fiber of his being, he clings to this glimmer of optimism, his resolve steeling him against the encroaching darkness as he plots his next move, knowing that redemption lies just beyond his grasp.

He watches intently as you swiftly retrieve your phone, fingers dancing across the screen with purposeful urgency. In that moment, a wave of apprehension washes over him, a silent understanding dawning as he realizes you're likely reaching out to Jimin for help.

As the tense minutes stretch on, Yoongi’s heart aches with a profound sense of helplessness. With Holly cowering in the corner, her fear palpable in the dimly lit stall, a surge of indignation courses through him. The sight of her trembling form ignites a fierce determination within him to protect her at all costs. Yet, the sinister presence of the man blocking your escape serves as a stark reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourselves in. Trapped within the confines of the stall, Yoongi’s mind races with fervent desperation, seeking a glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness. Every passing second feels like an eternity, each beat of his heart a silent plea for deliverance from this harrowing ordeal.

As the heavy wooden doors of the stables swing open, revealing the ominous silhouette of two officers, a surge of mixed emotions washes over Yoongi. Among them stands the familiar face of the officer he had spoken to earlier in the night, recognition flickering in his gaze as it falls upon Yoongi. Caught off guard by the unexpected reunion, Yoongi's lips curve into a lopsided smile, a nervous habit betraying his attempt at nonchalance as he absently scratches his head.

“What seems to be the problem?” The other officer, his voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade, directs his inquiry at the man standing before them.

“These two here are trying to steal my horses,” the man’s accusation slices through the tension like a blade, his voice dripping with venom as he points an accusatory finger at Yoongi and you.

Yoongi’s gaze remains fixed on the officers, observing their scrutiny as they shift their attention between you and the hurt horses. The weight of their words hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation.

“You’re aware that theft is a punishable offense, aren’t you?” Their inquiry is not just a question but a warning, echoing with the imminent threat of consequences.

“We’re obliged to bring you in,” the other officer asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he delivers the unwelcome verdict.

In a sudden, welcomed twist, Jimin strides into the stable with a confident swagger, a smile lighting up his face as he carries Yoongi’s camera in his hand, carrying the hope and evidence that you need.

“Officers, hold on a moment,” Jimin interjects, his voice carrying a firm but composed tone as he approaches them. The man’s gaze shifts from Jimin to you, his expression sour and unsettling, a silent testament to his apprehension. Yoongi senses the tension escalating, his concern growing with each passing second.

“You need to see this. It’s undeniable proof of what’s happening here,” Jimin urges, extending the camera to the police officers. With a sense of urgency, they take the camera and begin to review the images, their expressions shifting as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

Returning the camera to Jimin, Yoongi observes as Jimin casts a tender glance your way, his smile a silent reassurance. The officers then redirect their attention to the man, their expressions stern. “This constitutes animal cruelty, which is a serious offense,” they assert firmly.

“Please come with us,” one of the officers requests firmly, reaching for the man, who begins to resist, his actions reflecting his desperation to evade justice.

“What about them? They were trying to steal my horses!” He bellows in panic, his voice echoing in the dimly lit barn as the officers firmly escort him out, his frantic protests fading into the night.

“They haven’t stolen anything yet,” one of the officers declares, his voice cutting through the tense air like a beacon of reason, a reassuring nod directed at Yoongi, Jimin, and you.

Relief washes over Yoongi like a cool breeze on a scorching day. His hand instinctively finds its way through his hair, fingers threading through strands as if to anchor himself in the moment. A wave of adrenaline slowly recedes, leaving behind a sense of calm amidst the storm. That was too close for comfort.

He observes as you cast a tender glance at Jimin, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you. With purposeful steps, Jimin approaches, swinging open the stall door to free you both. Without hesitation, you leap into the waiting arms of your boyfriend, seeking solace and security in his embrace.

“Did you bring the trailer?” You inquire of Jimin, a grin lighting up your features as you lean in for a swift yet affectionate kiss.

“Of course,” Jimin chuckles, his hands settling on your hips reassuringly.

Yoongi gazes at both of you, a hint of confusion knitting his brows together.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi’s voice carries a tone of bewilderment as he directs his gaze between you and Jimin, his curiosity piqued.

“She asked me to bring the horse trailer so we could take the horses home with us,” Jimin’s words sink in, and Yoongi’s eyes widen with understanding, a glimmer of admiration flickering within them. As he turns to you, a silent gratitude fills the air, acknowledging your quick wit and resourcefulness.

“Let’s bring Holly home,” you declare with determination, your smile radiant as you clasp Jimin’s hand in gratitude for his timely assistance. As you envelop your boyfriend in a warm embrace, Yoongi redirects his attention to Holly, patiently coaxing her out of the stall. Though it requires effort, his perseverance prevails, and soon Holly steps out into the dim light of the stable, her eyes reflecting a newfound hope.

He’s overjoyed by the favorable outcome, relieved that you and Jimin intervened to rescue him and the poor horses. And, goodness, you should be elated that the police officers didn’t haul your asses away for trespassing.

Every damn thing is agony. You’ve exhausted every remedy in your arsenal. You attempted riding, hoping movement might ease the ache.

No dice.

Ice and heat packs offered fleeting relief at best. But the pain? Unyielding.

It’s a relentless torment, and you’re at your wits’ end.

Thus, you’ve sought solace in Jimin’s bedroom—or is it yours by now? After spending countless nights here, the lines blur, leaving you uncertain of where one space ends and the other begins.

You push open the door, your weary frame yearning for the comfort of the bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, your body meets it with a resounding thud, a symphony of exhaustion echoing through the room as you bury your face into the softness of the sheets, emitting a muffled groan of discomfort.

The sheets envelop you in their soft embrace, a familiar comfort that whispers tales of shared moments with Jimin – cuddles, tender kisses trailing along your neck. Infused with his signature musky scent, now mingled with your own, they offer solace to your weary mind, lulling your senses into a state of tranquility as you surrender to their gentle caress.

You draw your knees up to your chest, cocooning yourself in a protective embrace, silently pleading for the relentless pain to subside – a relentless companion that has plagued your entire day. In moments like these, you question how you manage to accomplish anything amidst this unyielding torment. Yet, surrendering to it is not an option; you refuse to grant the pain dominion over your spirit. Sickness is an unwelcome adversary, casting you into a disheartening abyss of vulnerability, a place you rarely visit.

You shut your eyes tightly, yearning for the solace of sleep to envelop you, if only to grant respite from the relentless ache gnawing at your stomach. The unwelcome arrival of your period compounds your discomfort, adding insult to injury. Oh, how you despise this monthly intrusion, an unwelcome visitor overstaying its welcome.

The door whispers open, and even before the hinges complete their eerie symphony, you sense his presence—Jimin, your ever-watchful guardian, silently slipping into the room. His quiet footsteps echo with a tenderness that speaks volumes, a familiar comfort that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

As the mattress yields to his weight, a gentle hand finds its place atop your hip bone, a soothing anchor in the storm of your discomfort. His voice, a soft melody of concern, washes over you like a gentle wave, carrying with it a warmth that beckons you to surrender to its embrace, “What’s wrong, love?”

“It’s just my period,” you murmur, the words heavy with discomfort, as you wrap your arms around yourself in a silent attempt to ease the ache.

His hand glides up your body, a comforting warmth that sends delicate shivers down your spine. “Let me help,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

You whimper softly at his touch, feeling the tension in your body begin to ease as his hand settles gently on your stomach. Drawing you closer, he envelops you in his strong, reassuring embrace, his warmth seeping into your bones. The scent of his skin fills your senses, intoxicating and familiar, as he nestles his head against your neck, his warm breath caressing your earlobe, sending delicious shivers down your spine. With tender care, his hand applies a gentle pressure to your stomach, offering comfort in the midst of your discomfort.

“Is this alright?” He murmurs softly, drawing himself nearer, his presence enveloping you completely. You sense every contour of his form, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the rhythmic thud of his heart, his warmth seeping into your skin. Your senses are heightened, acutely aware of his closeness, from the gentle pressure of his body to the tantalizing proximity of his hips against yours, with his dick pressing on your ass. With every inch of him pressed against you, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a deep-seated longing within you. His powerful thighs brush against yours, his feet intertwining with yours in a tender embrace, as if seeking solace in your hold.

“Yes, Jimin. You’re incredible,” you whisper with a sigh, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away from your body. Finally, a sense of tranquility washes over you, as if his touch has the power to soothe all your worries and pains.

The sensation of his hand on your lower stomach is nothing short of heavenly, each gentle caress a balm to your aching body. His mere presence, his unwavering support, threatens to bring tears to your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his kindness. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel as if your heart could burst with an abundance of love and gratitude.

His lips trace a path of warmth along your neck, each kiss igniting a delightful shiver down your spine. A soft chuckle escapes you, but as his lips continue their tantalizing journey, you find yourself squirming in his firm embrace. A playful movement causes your backside to brush against his crotch, and in that instant, you’re acutely aware of his growing erection.

“Jimin,” you chuckle, but his lips continue their delicious assault on your neck, seemingly oblivious to your protest. With each tender kiss, you feel yourself melting further into his embrace. Finally, unable to resist any longer, you turn to face him, your eyes locking in a silent dance of desire.

“You’re hard,” you state, your voice a delicate whisper tinged with both softness and a hint of lust. Your gaze locks with his, a silent invitation hanging in the air, accentuated by the subtle nip of your lower lip.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his voice a husky melody that sends shivers down your spine. His laughter, like music to your ears, fills the room with a warmth that envelops you both. His hand, now back on your hips, moves with a gentle rhythm, tracing soothing circles that melt away the tension, leaving only the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.

You release a soft, involuntary moan as his touch ignites a fire within you. With each knead of your hip, his fingers trace a path of desire, sliding down to the curve of your ass with deliberate, tantalizing slowness.

As he skillfully works the muscles of your ass, your hand ventures downward, drawn to the undeniable bulge in his devilish black sweatpants. The outline of his dick is unmistakable, beckoning you with its tantalizing presence. With eager anticipation, you seize his cock through the fabric, eliciting a low, guttural groan of pleasure from his lips.

“I want to touch you, to make you come,” you implore, your gaze pleading as you offer him a glimpse of your longing. Despite the innocence in your eyes, he remains resolute, unmoved by your entreaty.

“No,” he insists firmly, gently removing your hand from his dick. “This is about you. Let me ease your discomfort,” he adds, his voice tender as he redirects your focus to your own needs. “Trust me, it’s fine,” he murmurs reassuringly, his touch promising solace and relief.

He rises from the bed, his silhouette carved by the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and sits up while you remain reclined. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs, his voice a husky murmur that stirs a tingle of anticipation. “But keep your panties on,” he adds with a hint of restraint, his hand threading through his tousled hair. Even in the dim light, you can discern the subtle tension in his body, the silent yearning echoed in the strain of his form-fitting sweatpants, showcasing his cock wonderfully.

While laying down, he assists you in shedding your garments with gentle precision. His fingers deftly navigate the buttons and zippers of your pants, easing them over your hips and down your legs until they are scattered at the floor. With a tender touch, he removes your socks, his fingertips grazing your skin in a playful dance that elicits a fleeting giggle from you.

His gaze lingers on your panties, a simple yet alluring black lace, and a soft admiration gleams in his eyes. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine appreciation for the sight before him.

His touch ignites a tingling sensation across your skin as his fingers dance over your body, coaxing your shirt off with gentle insistence. With a skilled touch, he guides you to sit up, his hands tracing a tantalizing path up your torso until they find the clasp of your bra. Effortlessly, he releases it, setting your breasts free, and his warm palms cup them delicately. “So soft and beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your skin, as he revels in the intimacy of the moment.

Your breath catches in your throat as a soft moan escapes your lips, your body responding eagerly to his caress. With each lingering touch, a wave of arousal washes over you, igniting a fire within that yearns for more of his intoxicating embrace.

“Now lay down on your stomach first,” he instructs, his gaze tracing the curves of your body with hunger, his tongue darting out as if you’re a delectable feast waiting to be savored.

You sink into the bed, enveloped in his familiar musky aroma, a comforting embrace for your senses. His hands start at your neck and shoulders, his presence pressing gently over you, as he straddles your ass, his weight a reassuring anchor. With skilled precision, he works your muscles like a master baker kneading dough, each movement easing the knots of tension from your body. The touch is firm yet tender, and with each stroke, you feel the weight of the day lifting from your skin, leaving you adrift in a sea of relaxation.

His hands, like skilled artists, glide down your back, tracing the curves of your shoulder blades with delicate precision. The sensation is exquisite, sending tingles cascading down your spine. His touch is a symphony of pleasure, each stroke orchestrating a chorus of sighs and gasps from your lips. And beneath it all, you feel the subtle rhythm of his dick pulsating against your ass, a silent melody of passion that dances in harmony with your own.

His hands continue their journey, traversing the landscape of your back with a tender firmness that speaks volumes of his skill. Each movement is deliberate, mapping out a path of relief along your ribcage and tracing the contours of your spine with an expert touch. It’s a paradox of strength and gentleness, his fingers like whispers against your skin, soothing away the knots of tension with practiced ease.

He positions himself lower, settling onto your thighs with a deliberate intent, his hands now gliding over the expanse of your lower back. The sensation is exquisite, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body, evoking a deep, primal response. A needy moan escapes your lips, punctuating the air with a symphony of desire, and you can feel the immediate response of his cock against your skin.

With a gentle tug, he eases the edge of your panties down slightly, allowing him better access to massage the curves of your ass. A deep, guttural groan of pleasure escapes you as his skilled hands work wonders on your body, each motion a symphony of blissful sensations. It’s an exquisite dance of touch and response, leaving you utterly captivated by the sheer intensity of his ministrations.

Fuck it feels so good.

“Do you like it?” He inquires, his voice laced with a playful edge that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s as if you can feel the warmth of his smile in his words, his teasing tone igniting a spark of anticipation within you.

“Fuck, yes,” you moan, feeling as though you’re melting into the sheets beneath you, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. A bead of sweat forms on your brow, mingling with the dampness of anticipation, as if your body can't contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

You think you’re drooling too, maybe from more than one place.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine, as he pulls your panties back up and shifts to sit beside you. His hands firmly grasp the curves of your ass, kneading with a skill that leaves you breathless. Every touch ignites a fire within you, a fierce longing that consumes your senses, driving you to the edge of desire with each caress.

His hands glide downward, tracing the contours of your thighs, down to your calves, and finally reaching your feet. With a gentle touch, he massages each toe, sending a delightful tingle through your body that elicits a soft, involuntary giggle from your lips.

“Turn around, love,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a playful tone, punctuated by a gentle spank on your ass.

You twist your body to face him, your nipples erect and inviting, a sight that elicits a tender smile from him. “You really like it, huh?” He chuckles, his eyes dancing with affection as you settle onto your back, eager for his touch once more.

He begins with your feet, cradling one in his hands and working his fingers expertly into the arch, easing away the day’s tension. Then, with the same care and attention, he turns to the other foot, his touch gentle yet firm, coaxing relaxation from every muscle.

With a feather-light touch, he glides his hands up your legs, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your skin as if each stroke is a whispered promise of comfort and solace.

As his hands start to massage your hip with the gentlest of touches, eliciting a soft moan from your lips, you’re overwhelmed by the sheer bliss coursing through your body. Every caress feels like a blissful release, easing away the tension and leaving you floating in a sea of pleasure.

His hands ascend to your stomach, and a cascade of shivers dances across your skin, ignited by his tender touch. Each stroke feels imbued with love and affection, as if he’s painting delicate strokes of adoration upon your flesh. Despite the sensations, a soft giggle bubbles from within you, tickled by the intimacy and warmth enveloping you.

Anticipation tingles through every fiber of your being as you await the touch you yearn for, expecting his hands to caress your breasts next. Yet, to your surprise, they bypass that destination entirely, gliding over your arms instead. Confusion flickers across your face as you lock eyes with him, seeking answers in his mischievous smirk, which only deepens the mystery of his intentions.

His hands glide over your arms with expert precision, tracing the contours of your biceps and kneading your skin with a delicate touch, as if each stroke is an ode to the strength and grace you possess.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he finally descends to the part where your desires lie most fervently – your breasts.

His touch is both tender and assertive as he cups your breasts, his fingers skillfully exploring every curve and contour, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His voice is a husky whisper against your skin as he murmurs, “Love these,” before lavishing attention on your right breast with soft, tantalizing kisses, igniting a fire of desire within you.

You arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as you instinctively press your body closer to his tantalizing touch, craving more of his affectionate caresses.

As he straddles you, his weight presses against you, a tantalizing pressure that sends a shiver down your spine. Beneath him, you feel the unmistakable warmth of his dick against your crotch, a delicious friction that ignites your senses. Despite his weight, he feels weightless in your embrace, each touch and movement a delicate dance of desire that leaves you yearning for more.

His hands, strong yet tender, caress your breasts with an intensity that leaves you breathless. With expert precision, his fingers trace tantalizing patterns over your sensitive nipples, coaxing them to stiff peaks that ache with desire. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, heightening every sensation until you’re consumed by a whirlwind of ecstasy.

As he pinches them gently, he observes with a hungered gaze as your expression twists in the throes of pleasure, your lips parting in a silent gasp as waves of sensation ripple through you.

“Jimin,” you murmur his name, a plea hanging in the air, laden with uncertainty and desire. In the turmoil of conflicting emotions, you’re unsure of your own wishes. The idea of sex during your period feels messy and uncertain, yet an undeniable need throbs within you, pulling you in conflicting directions.

“What do you want, love?” His voice, a whisper of warmth against your skin, carries the weight of anticipation, lingering on the edge of a kiss yet to come.

His breath, a tantalizing tease, caresses your skin, igniting a longing for his lips to meet yours in a fierce embrace. Frustration mounts as he hesitates, but you refuse to wait any longer. With a desperate pull, you seize his face, drawing him into a kiss overflowing with the depth of your affection.

He breaks away from your lips, his gaze fixated on your face, where a flicker of discomfort dances in your eyes, mingled with a hint of bewilderment.

“I’m torn, Jimin,” you confess, breaths coming in ragged pants, frustration lacing your tone. “I’m so turned on right now, but the thought of sex during my period... it just feels so messy.”

“Of course, my love,” Jimin responds with gentle understanding, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. “I completely understand, and I never intended to pressure you. All I want is to soothe your pain and make you feel comfortable.”

With a soft smile, you draw him closer, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Your lips meet in a tender kiss, a silent exchange of affection and understanding. As you break away, you meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “Can you just hold me?” you whisper, your voice a gentle plea, seeking solace in his comforting arms.

His touch traces the contours of your face, a gentle caress that ignites a flutter in your chest. From the bridge of your nose to the curve of your cheeks, his fingertips dance with a tender grace, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally, they come to rest at your lips.

“Of course,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress against your ear as he settles behind you. With a gentle sweep, he tucks the duvet around your mostly bare form, cocooning you both in its warmth. Drawing you close, he molds his body to yours, fitting together like pieces of a perfect puzzle. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses that send tingles down your spine.

You’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re both turned on right now, the magnetic pull drawing you closer with each breath. Despite the electric tension, there’s something undeniably comforting about the way he envelops you, his embrace a sanctuary from the outside world. As his warmth seeps into your skin, mingling with yours, you find yourself entertaining the idea of drifting off in his arms, the allure of intimacy lulling you into a tranquil embrace.

“Do you want to come with me for my wedding dress fitting appointment?” Your sister’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she delicately lifts her glass of water to her lips, anticipation dancing in the air between you both.

“Yeah, when is it?” You reply, a soft smile mirroring the excitement in her eyes. You can’t help but wonder why she hadn’t brought it up sooner, but you're thrilled she finally did.

“Right this moment, actually,” she chuckles, a playful glint in her eyes as she runs her fingers through her tousled brown curls.

You chuckle at her predictable spontaneity. It’s classic her, always deciding things at the eleventh hour. But you don’t mind, setting down your glass of water on the table. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s hit the road.”

Jessi sets her glass down, and together you stride out of the house toward the purple truck. You climb in, and Jessi takes the wheel, navigating you both into town. Along the way, she fills you in, explaining how she’s arranged an appointment with the local seamstress, boasting about her expertise. You nod, smiling at her enthusiasm, eager to witness your sister transformed in a wedding gown. Knowing Jessi’s usual aversion to dresses, you're curious to discover the style she’ll embrace for this momentous occasion.

After the familiar two-hour drive, Jessi expertly maneuvers the truck into a spot in front of the boutique. The quaint storefront beckons with its modest size, yet inside, a vibrant display of mannequins showcases an array of dresses. Among them, you spot wedding gowns, bridesmaid dresses, and elegant gala attire, each one whispering tales of dreams and celebrations.

As you step into the store, a delightful aroma envelops you, filling the air with its sweet fragrance. The atmosphere exudes warmth and comfort, instantly making you feel at home. A friendly lady approaches, her smile radiant as she offers her assistance.

“I have an appointment to try on wedding dresses,” announcing her appointment with a hint of excitement, your sister catches the store lady’s attention. With a nod of understanding, the lady graciously guides you both deeper into the boutique’s heart, where plush couches await, adorned in a regal hue of deep royal red, accented with elegant gold details. The ambiance is further elevated by the cream-white walls, instilling a sense of tranquility and serenity throughout the space.

“Please take a seat, and have some champagne,” the lady invites with a gentle gesture towards the inviting couches and the sparkling champagne flutes that beckon.

“I’m Hyorin and I’ll help you find the perfect dress for your wedding.” Her warm smile assures you of a journey filled with personalized attention and expert guidance in your quest for the gown of your dreams.

You both sink into the embrace of the lush couch, the rich fabric cradling you like a cloud of opulence. With glasses of champagne in hand, poured with Hyorin’s effortless grace, you take a drink of the champagne, its effervescence mirroring the excitement in the air.

“What kind of dress are you looking for?” Hyorin’s gaze beams with anticipation as she directs her question to your sister, her eyes aglow with genuine interest. Their golden hue, reminiscent of warm honey, adds a radiant charm to her already captivating presence. Her brown locks cascade gracefully over her shoulders, framing her face like a portrait, while her chic curtain bangs lend a touch of modern allure to her appearance.

“I would like something simple and elegant, but not too tight or princessy,” your sister’s voice carries a tone of understated sophistication as she articulates her desires for the perfect gown. Her words resonate with a refined taste, seeking simplicity intertwined with an effortless elegance. You find yourself nodding in agreement, not at all surprised by her choice, and a spontaneous chuckle escapes you, nearly causing you to choke on your champagne.

Jessi turns to you, her lips curved into a playful smile, teasingly prompting, “What’s got you chuckling over there?”

“I’m just not surprised,” you muse with a grin, raising the champagne glass to your lips for another sip.

Hyorin smiles warmly. “I’ll be right back with a few suggestions for you to try on. You can get ready in the dressing room,” she says, her voice filled with excitement for the dress-finding journey ahead.

As Hyorin strides towards the racks adorned with elegant wedding dresses, Jessi rises gracefully, disappearing into one of the changing rooms. Left alone, you sink deeper into the plush cushions of the couch, anticipation tingling in the air like champagne bubbles.

Hyorin returns, a vision of grace carrying three dresses like treasures from a bridal chest. Each gown, pristine white with delicate lace accents, exudes an aura of simplicity, elegance, and sheer beauty.

“I’ve curated a selection for you to consider,” Hyorin announces, presenting the trio of dresses to your sister as though unveiling treasures from a sacred bridal trove.

“Thank you,” Jessi responds graciously, snatching the dresses and whisking them into her dressing chamber, eager to unveil their potential allure.

With a flourish, she parts the curtain, revealing the first gown: a sweeping masterpiece. Its neckline plunges daringly, yet tastefully, inviting a glimpse of allure. Sleeveless, it caresses her curves with a perfect fit, offering both elegance and freedom of movement.

Your sister beams at you, her eyes alight with anticipation, as she gracefully lifts the skirt, revealing its fluid movement. “Well?” she prompts, her excitement palpable in the air.

“I think you look absolutely stunning,” you remark with a smile, admiring her from every angle. “But I’m curious to see how the other dresses compare,” you add, eager to explore the options further.

As she emerges from the dressing room, a new silhouette adorns her figure, this one an elegant a-line rather than the previous mermaid style. Yet, it’s adorned with subtle sparkles that catch the light, casting a magical glow around her. Observing her in the dress, you can’t help but wonder if the shimmer aligns with Jessi’s taste. She turns gracefully, the long sleeves adding a touch of sophistication to the ensemble.

Hyorin interjects, her voice tinged with anticipation, “How about this one? Does it speak to you?”

Jessi gazes at her reflection, her eyes lingering on the gown's shimmering embellishments. “The sparkles aren’t my thing,” she muses, “but I adore how the skirt flows—it’s not overly poufy, but just the right amount of volume for movement.”

Hyorin nods in understanding as Jessi retreats into the fitting room to slip into the third gown. The fabric is adorned with delicate lace, and as Jessi emerges, you notice the skirt’s voluminous size doesn’t quite match her liking.

“I’m not sold on the skirt of this one, but the top is lovely. Plus, I don’t mind flaunting a bit of cleavage,” she remarks, gracefully twirling in the dress.

Hyorin nods understandingly, collecting the three dresses from Jessi before gliding across the store to hunt for the next contender.

You rise from the plush couch, a glint of determination in your eyes. “I’ll scout out another option for you to try, sounds good?”

Jessi shoots you a thumbs-up from the dressing rooms, and you set off on your exploration of the boutique. Rows of stunning dresses greet you, each whispering its own tale of elegance and romance. Lost in the sea of bridal dreams, you ponder what you might choose for your own wedding someday, if fate allows. Amidst the glitter and sparkle, something catches your eye, beckoning you like a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.

You delicately pluck the dress from the rack, and instantly, you’re captivated. An ivory masterpiece unfolds before you, its allure undeniable. The neckline plunges daringly, yet a sheer nude fabric veils it with a touch of modesty. Long, lace-adorned sleeves promise both grace and breathability, while the bodice, adorned with intricate lace, exudes charm. With its lace-up back, the dress offers a timeless elegance, reminiscent of fairy tales and romance. The A-line silhouette, though not voluminous, carries a subtle flow, enhanced by the delicate lace fabric of the skirt. As you hold it, you can’t shake the feeling that this is the one—the dress that encapsulates your sister’s dreams and desires.

You cradle the dress in your arms, feeling its weight as if holding a treasure. With each step, anticipation swells within you, a silent prayer that this gown may be the key to your sister’s bridal bliss. Approaching Jessi, you extend the dress to her with a gentle urgency, a silent plea echoing in your eyes. “Try this on, Jess,” you urge, your voice a whisper filled with hope and excitement.

Hyorin glides over to you, her hands cradling two delicate dresses like precious secrets. With a graceful flourish, she presents them to Jessi, a silent invitation to discover the magic within. As Jessi disappears behind the dressing room curtain, anticipation hangs thick in the air, each passing moment pregnant with possibility. You exchange a glance with Hyorin, sharing in the silent anticipation of witnessing Jessi’s transformation.

As Jessi parts the curtain, her radiant smile bursts forth like sunshine breaking through clouds. In the shimmering gown you discovered, she spins with effortless grace, a vision of confidence and joy.

“What do you think?” She beams, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, awaiting your verdict on her newfound elegance.

“Absolutely stunning! Jungkook won’t know what hit him,” you exclaim, your voice brimming with excitement and admiration. The dress envelops Jessi like a dream, affirming your belief that it’s the perfect choice for her special day.

“I feel incredible in it, but I doubt he’ll be able to keep his hands off me, he’ll probably just want to rip the dress off my body,” she chuckles, her laughter infectious as it fills the room. You can’t help but join in, the joy of the moment contagious, even Hyorin finds herself laughing along with you both.

“I don’t care what he does, that dress was made for you,” you affirm with conviction, your admiration for your sister evident in your voice. Damn, she looks stunning.

“This is the one,” Jessi declares with a radiant smile, her joy palpable as she moves gracefully in the dress, completely at ease.

As the morning light pours in, casting a golden glow over everything, it feels like the perfect day. The air is crisp, the sun’s warmth wraps around her like a comforting embrace, and the sweet melodies of birdsong serenade her every step. Each footfall is buoyant, as if she’s walking on air, filled with anticipation for the days ahead. Her heart beats with excitement, knowing that her big day is drawing near, and she can hardly contain her joy.

She revels in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence, cherishing every moment spent in his company. Witnessing her sister’s radiant happiness with Jimin fills her with a profound warmth. Never before has she seen Jimin so utterly content in a relationship, and it melts her heart to witness their love blossoming. Everywhere she looks, love seems to weave its enchanting tapestry, wrapping her in its gentle embrace. In this moment, surrounded by love and joy, she feels an overwhelming gratitude for having everything she’s ever wished for and more.

Jessi dances through the halls of Jungkook’s home, her joy infectious and her spirit light. As she twirls amidst the familiar surroundings, she can’t help but entertain the thought that maybe Jimin might summon the courage to take the next step and propose to her sister. The idea has been floating around her mind for some time now, especially knowing that Jimin has been holding onto an engagement ring, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question.

Since you accompanied her to her dress fitting, Jessi couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable look of devotion in your eyes, a silent declaration of your readiness and unwavering commitment to Jimin. But now, she finds herself pondering a question that weighs heavily on her mind: how can she nudge Jimin towards proposing to you, or maybe even inspire you to take the leap and propose to him? Tradition and conventions hold little sway over her; all she desires is to witness the radiant joy of her beloved family as they step into a future filled with happiness and love.

With an infectious energy pulsating through her veins, she sways to an imaginary melody in the kitchen, her movements a symphony of anticipation. Suddenly, the distant hum of tires against gravel draws her attention, and she rushes to the window, her curiosity piqued. Through the glass, she spots an unfamiliar vehicle winding its way up the driveway, sparking her intrigue even further.

Eager to welcome the visitor, she strides outside, her smile radiant with warmth. But as her gaze falls upon the sleek, crimson sports car, a sudden chill washes over her, like a shadow eclipsing the sun. With a sharp intake of breath, she senses a storm of emotions brewing within, a tempest of memories stirring to life. That scarlet vehicle triggers a cascade of recollections, each fragment dancing on the periphery of her mind, teasing her with familiarity. Where had she seen it before?

Despite the heavy weight pressing upon her, both in her heart and on her shoulders, she continues to move forward, each step an arduous journey. Every footfall feels like an uphill battle, as if gravity itself conspires against her progress. Yet, propelled by a mix of curiosity and apprehension, she persists, determined to confront whatever awaits her at the end of this daunting path.

With each inch the car draws nearer, her memories awaken like a dormant beast, stirring from its slumber. Images of the past flood her mind, each one a jagged piece of a puzzle she never wanted to solve. The car’s color triggers a cascade of recollections, transporting her back to the day of the accident, a day etched in pain and regret. As the truth dawns on her, fury simmers within her veins, boiling over like a tempest unleashed. Her fists ball up, knuckles whitening, while her teeth grind together in a symphony of anger and anguish, a bitter melody echoing the depths of her soul.

Vividly etched in her memory is the sight of that crimson car careening onto the wrong side of the road, a reckless intruder in her world of order. She recalls the split-second decision, the desperate swerve to avoid a collision, the sensation of losing control as her vehicle skidded off course, hurtling towards an unforgiving embrace with destiny—a collision with a tree that shattered her sense of safety and left her broken, physically and emotionally.

The car grinds to a halt, and her muscles tense with a mixture of apprehension and frustration, her arms folding protectively across her chest, a silent barrier against whatever or whoever emerges from that ominous vehicle. With each passing second, impatience brews within her, a fervent desire for the intrusive presence to vanish, to leave her to the serenity of her solitude. She fixates on the car’s door, her gaze an unyielding challenge, daring the unknown occupant to unveil themselves and confront the consequences of their intrusion.

The silence stretches taut as the stranger emerges, his movements deliberate, almost calculated, as if he’s orchestrating a grand entrance. With a polished precision, he plants his first foot onto the ground, clad in sleek, designer shoes that exude opulence—a stark contrast to her indifference, maybe even disdain, for such material extravagance. She suppresses a scoff, her lip curling with distaste, a silent protest against the superficiality that seems to accompany him.

As the man steps fully out of the car, his gaze sweeps the surroundings before settling on Jessi. Her expression remains stern, a subtle furrow forming between her brows, her lips pressed into a thin line betraying her impatience. One foot taps rhythmically against the earth, a silent declaration of her readiness for the stranger to break the silence enveloping them.

As the stranger remains silent, Jessi takes a moment to size him up. True to her initial assessment, is a city slicker; his brown hair meticulously styled with gel, giving him a sophisticated yet laid-back appearance. His heart-shaped face boasts a pointed nose and sharp eyes that seem to miss nothing. Clad in a loose silk shirt tucked into sleek black dress pants, he stands out amidst the rustic surroundings with an air of effortless elegance. Feeling the weight of his silence, Jessi clears her throat, a subtle signal to draw his attention.

“Some balls you have,” she begins, her voice laced with the simmering anger that clouds her thoughts and judgment.

His expression twists into confusion, but she can feel the heat rising within her, pushing her to raise her voice at him.

“Get out of here!” Her voice reverberates, echoing the anger pulsating through her, each word a thunderclap demanding his departure.

As footsteps and doors creak open behind her, you, Jungkook, and Jimin approach her, enveloping her in a protective circle. Your arms wrap around her, seeking answers to her distress, but Jessi’s vision blurs with rage, seeing nothing but crimson swirling before her eyes.

“He’s the one who caused my accident,” Jessi’s voice cuts through the tension, still charged with anger as she jabs her finger accusingly at the stranger.

You turn to gaze between your sister and the stranger, a surge of disbelief coursing through you. Suddenly, everything clicks into place, and you realize why your sister trembles in your embrace, her fury palpable.

Jungkook and Jimin move protectively in front of you, their gaze fixed firmly on the stranger standing before you. Jungkook takes the lead, his voice firm with an undercurrent of caution. “Who are you?”

The stranger clears his throat, his demeanor cautious yet oddly composed. “My name is Taehyung, and I’m—”

His words come out in a low, rumbling growl, cutting off Taehyung’s attempt to speak further. “Are you the one responsible for her accident?”

Taehyung’s gaze drops to the ground, his expression clouded with a hint of remorse, his hands retreating into his pockets.

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I am,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with regret, his eyes flitting nervously among all of you, unable to meet any one gaze.

Your sister hisses, her fists clenching again, and you can feel the tension vibrating through her, a palpable desire to break free from your hold and maybe slap some sense into the man, but you cling to her tightly, refusing to let her go.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his gaze assessing Taehyung from head to toe. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung shifts uncomfortably, his laughter tinged with nervousness as he kicks at the dirt, his hand absently smoothing his sleek hair, disrupting its neatly styled appearance.

“I came to speak to my family,” he murmurs, his gaze sharpening once more, a flicker of resolve crossing his features as he braces himself for your response.

“Then you came to the wrong place, mate,” Jungkook utters through clenched teeth, his voice laced with simmering anger, though beneath the surface, you sense his effort to maintain composure.

You don’t know what Taehyung means by speaking to his family; none of you know him, and he’s certainly not part of your family.

“I’m your brother,” Taehyung says, his voice carrying an unexpected calmness that sends a ripple of disbelief through the air. Your eyes widen in shock. How can he remain so composed amidst such a damning accusation? You turn your head to glimpse your sister’s reaction; her eyes mirror your incredulity. Glancing at the others, you notice Jungkook and Jimin standing frozen, their expressions a mixture of confusion and surprise.

As the weight of Taehyung’s revelation settles in, you release your grip on your sister and stride towards Jimin, while Jessi gravitates towards Jungkook, seeking solace in his embrace. Together, the four of you stand, an image of disbelief and confusion. What is the meaning of this?

Taehyung’s gaze shifts between Jimin and Jungkook, his expression a blend of hurt and confusion, his eyes reflecting a deep-seated disappointment or maybe sadness. “You didn’t know?” he ventures, his voice tinged with an undertone of caution, as if unsure of how his revelation will be received.

You sense Jimin’s body tensing within your embrace, his muscles coiling like tightly wound springs as he grapples with the sudden influx of information. His fists clench, knuckles whitening with the intensity of his emotions, a silent storm raging within him.

“I don’t believe you,” Jungkook hisses back, his voice tight with tension, his fists clenched at his sides like coiled springs ready to release. “Our parents never told us anything of the sorts.”

Taehyung simply nods, his expression pained yet resolute. “Well, my mom recently told me about you and my father—our shared father.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook scoff, disbelief etched on their faces, their eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Dad would have told us,” Jimin’s voice is strained, his attempt at composure evident in the way he clenches his jaw. You reach out, soothingly tracing your hand up and down his arm, feeling the tension coiled within his muscles. With your other hand, you firmly grasp his hand, anchoring him in the moment.

“Are you sure? Seems like the guy got around a lot,” he remarks casually, shrugging his shoulders. Beside you, you notice both Jungkook and Jimin flinching at his words, their expressions betraying a mix of disbelief and discomfort.

“You,” Jungkook seethes, his voice edged with barely contained fury. From the corner of your eye, you see him attempting to break free from your sister’s grasp, but she holds onto him firmly, refusing to let him go.

“I can prove that I’m your sibling with a DNA test,” he states casually, his demeanor unsettlingly composed. You can’t fathom how he can maintain such calmness amidst this chaos. Doubt creeps into your mind, questioning his intentions. What does he seek from the guys? Money, maybe?

You can feel Jimin’s heartbeat against your chest, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing his uncertainty. He clears his throat, his voice edged with skepticism, “Then come back with proof. Because we don’t believe you.”

Taehyung nods, his demeanor nonchalant, “I just need some DNA from you and I’ll be on my merry way.”

It feels like a scene ripped straight from a surreal drama as Taehyung produces a small plastic bag, and both Jimin and Jungkook pluck out a hair from their heads, handing it to Taehyung with a mix of reluctance and defiance. Their expressions betray a cocktail of emotions, but it’s clear they’re doing it more out of defiance than genuine cooperation. Taehyung calmly plucks a piece of hair from his own head.

“Thank you,” he says with a pleased smile, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he waves before disappearing into the sleek red car. With a smooth maneuver, he gets behind the wheel and drives off, leaving behind a cloud of uncertainty and a lingering sense of unease in the air.

You all hold your breath, a tense silence enveloping the group as his car disappears into the distance, leaving nothing but a swirling cloud of dust in its wake.

“What a douche,” Jungkook’s voice seethes with a mix of anger and exhaustion, his words heavy with disbelief and frustration. “I really hope he isn’t our brother.”

Jimin turns towards you, his expression a blend of confusion and desperation as he seeks reassurance in your eyes, silently pleading for answers you’re not sure you can provide at this moment. Nevertheless, you envelop him in a tight hug, hoping your embrace can convey the support and comfort he needs.

You offer a soothing rub to his back, your touch a reassuring anchor amidst the swirling uncertainty. “That was so weird. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this. What could he possibly want?”

Jimin’s warm breath against your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and you hold him tighter for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence. As he pulls away, uncertainty lingers in his voice. “Yeah. I don’t know if I like this.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, offering a reassuring squeeze. “I’m here for you, Jimin. Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together.”

You find yourselves immersed in a search through old papers and documents together, scouring for any hint of a connection from the guys to Taehyung. The disbelief hangs heavy in the air, and you empathize with their skepticism. It’s like watching their world tilt on its axis, leaving them grappling with uncertainty and confusion.

Despite days spent sifting through mountains of old documents, the evidence of Jimin and Jungkook having a brother remains elusive. The mystery hangs heavy in the air, fueling speculation and unease. You engage in discussions, contemplating the possibility that Taehyung may be orchestrating some sort of scheme.

As anticipated, Taehyung fulfills his promise, returning a few days later, his sleek red car gliding into the driveway. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you and the others step outside to confront him once again.

Taehyung emerges from his car, exuding the same impeccable style as before, his attire as refined as his demeanor. A confident smile graces his lips as he approaches, clutching a piece of paper in his hand, his eyes glinting with a sense of purpose.

He strides purposefully toward Jimin, extending the paper with a determined yet enigmatic air. “Proof,” he states simply, his gaze locked onto Jimin’s, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

You position yourself behind your boyfriend, stretching on tiptoe to catch a glimpse over his shoulder, eager to discern the contents of the document. As your eyes sweep across the page, there it is— the undeniable confirmation, the positive result staring back at you, setting your heart racing with a mix of astonishment and disbelief.

Frustration and disbelief surge through you. You can hardly fathom it. Without a word, Jimin passes the paper to his brother, his silence a testament to the tumult raging within him as he grapples with the sudden upheaval of his reality. In a bid to anchor him amidst the storm, you envelop him in a reassuring embrace, feeling the weight of his uncertainty and turmoil pressing against you.

Jungkook’s gaze flicks over the document, his features contorted in a mixture of skepticism and disdain. “You may share our blood,” he begins, his voice edged with a steely resolve, “but you’re no brother of mine.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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utilitycaster · 3 hours

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I haven't seen WBN, so I can't comment on the comparison, but on the subject of Liliana, one of my favorite parts of last night was how Matt anwsered Fearne's question about how Liliana got involved with Ludinus. The whole scene with Liliana was stellar, but that answer made it so clear that is she is in a cult. The way Ludinus found her while she was unsure and looking for answers, mentored her, and showed her the "truth" about Predathos is a classic cult recruitment story. And her reasonings for staying in the cult after having recognizing some of its faults also rang true. She needs to "protect the children", the methods are wrong but the "truth" at the heart of their mission is right, the us vs. them mentality and fear of the exandrian authorities, etc. And I can see how that can make her sympathetic. She was taken in and conditioned by a charismatic, powerful leader. But Matt and the others have also made it clear, including in that scene, that she is complicit, and that the pcs at least recognize that her guilt does not absolve her. The members of the Manson Family who committed the Tate Murders may have been indoctrinated by Charles Manson, but they still killed 5 people in an incredibly grusome manner. The fact that they were following orders doesn't absolve them of their crime. And historically, cult leadership (which Liliana seems to be) who attempt to "fix" a cult either don't make any meanful change, or actually make it worse. I, at least, am very curious to see what will have happened in that regard when she next shows up. In short, people need to learn about nuance, and maybe sociology, and the Liliana scene was fantastic.

Hello anon. Are you spying on my Discord messages. This is not an accusation but I literally brought up the Manson Family there in discussion of how a lot of the WBN fandom in that like, people see wizards of the citadel (rightfully) as The War-Mongering Establishment, but forget that actually, there exist plenty of counterculture groups that also suck and just bc the US Government does horrible things doesn't mean the Manson Family doesn't. What if the Citadel AND a lot of Witches fucking sucked.*

To get back to Critical Role though, YEAH the Vanguard has been hitting every single aspect of a cult, and look. I get that the best way to get people irl out of a cult is to just be present for them when they decide to leave and not cut them off (the same is true for how to help people in abusive relationships) but also once they start murdering I feel that is no longer the move. The Liliana scene made me deeply uncomfortable and unsettled in the best way, namely, I knew they were talking to a cult member who is in too deep for them to get her out right now, and who has done terrible things to innocent people in service to that cult. Which brings me back to the first paragraph: a very true twist on "what if both sides of a conflict sucked" is "what if the victim of a system can still perpetuate the harm of a system onto others". (Also, if we want to throw Midst into the list of things where people have no-nuance no-sociology takes, and talk more about Steel? "what if someone with power within a system can still be a victim thereof."

Like, that is a really consistent set of issues in media analysis, actually. There's a lot of "this is the good side, and this is the bad side," and "this is a victim, and this is a perpetrator" and no understanding of "both sides are bad (or even complicated)" and "wow it's almost like the way systems and especially cults keep running is because everyone except the very top is to an extent a victim, but also everyone is a perpetrator." Very few people are unfettered evildoers doing it just for kicks. You can have sympathy for Liliana and also acknowledge that it's pretty valid for Orym to have no room for that sympathy. Traumatized and manipulated people can still be shitty people.

*I'm neutral-to-faint-positive on Suvi/Ame as a ship but actually "wow both our establishments really suck, how can we make something better together" is a great basis for a ship and "oh my god no witches are perfect and right and wizards are Bad and Wrong you're so correct about everything" is a dogshit basis for a ship which I think is worth highlighting given that we are in fandom spaces here although I may come to regret this when I'm sober.

#cr spoilers

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shaunamilfman · 3 hours

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you must like me for me [2]

summary: You weren't sure what you did to piss off Shauna Shipman, but you've been on the receiving end of her death glares for just as long as you can remember. If looks could kill you'd certainly be six feet under, but hey–it's kind of hot, right? For better or worse, everything changes after a run-in at a party. Part 1 | Part 3

“Come on,” Nat protests, pointedly glancing at the hickey displayed proudly on your neck. “Spill. Who was it?”

You shake your head with a grin as you look over at her. “Not telling.”

Nat groans exaggeratedly. “Fine. Whoever it is is Shipman-level crazy because I swear haven't seen your neck in weeks–”

She trails off at the sheepish look on your face. “No fucking way. You've been hooking up with Shipman? Shauna Shipman let you get within three feet of her?” You bristle at the utter disbelief in her voice, honestly a little offended, before you decide the disbelief is more on Shauna's personality than your ability to pull her.

“Could you announce it any louder?” You say wryly.

Nat scoffs. “No one would believe it even if they heard it.”

“Yeah, but Shauna would.”

Nat's eyes widen slightly as she glances around to make sure no one hears you. You give her an amused look as she rolls her eyes. “I'm not, like, afraid of her or something. But the last thing I need is for her to sic Jackie on me.”

You nod slowly, and she elbows you in the side in retaliation for your disbelieving hum. You rub at your side with a wince; Nat really could pack a punch when she meant to and– like this time– even when she didn't. Her face softens slightly at the motion, but she doesn't otherwise acknowledge it.

Nat never likes to acknowledge when she feels guilty about something, choosing instead to just bottle it up and stew on it. You think it's dumb to ruminate on something that's already stopped hurting, but you know Nat wouldn't appreciate you acknowledging it.

She's a lot like Shauna in that way, you've realized. You're not quite sure which one of them would win in a brooding contest but you think it might be a close call. It's strange to think about Nat and Shauna being similar in any way, but as you've spent more time with Shauna you've really started to question why you didn't get along well in the first place.

It's not like you've spent a ton of your time together talking– far too occupied by the thought of burying your head between her thighs to exchange pleasantries– but you've really grown to like the snippets of her personality that shine through.

She's argumentative with a mean streak a mile wide, sure, but she offered you a pillow for your knees once so you figured it probably evened itself out. Right? Granted, you only needed the pillow because she kept you kneeling on her hardwood floor as she insisted for another round but you assured yourself it was the thought that counts.

Shauna was sweet in her own way, you reasoned. Sometimes you caught her giving you the sweetest little smile out of the corner of your eye when she thought you couldn't see it, quickly turning it into a frown the second you turned your head fully to face her. She bemoaned your presence in her bed the second you were finished fooling around, but you kept yourself from commenting on the way she immediately wrapped herself around you. Sometimes it pays to be the bigger person for once. Truly you couldn't leave if you wanted to: she's a hell of a lot stronger than she looks.

Shauna never seemed warmer than in the afterglow, almost eager to climb into your lap or hold you on hers. The distance that she was always so careful to put between herself and others made bridgeable for just an instant as she allowed a vulnerability that was as rare as it was captivating. It felt like a privilege to be granted access to her like this, a part of her that she kept under lock and key. In those moments it was just the two of you, like nothing else matters. Like nothing ever mattered but her.

It was the quiet intimacy between you in a few moments of stolen affection that kept you coming back, unable to stop yourself from seeking her out even as you reminded yourself time and time again that it was a bad idea. It was a bittersweet connection you shared, but you can’t find it in yourself to resist it.

In summary, you’re fucked.

You push the thought out of your head, shifting focus abruptly as you elbow Nat back even harder. Nat grunts in pain, almost wheezing as she grabs at her side. She glares at you with teary eyes, but there’s a slight quirk of her lips that betrays a small hint of amusement. She shoves you backward a few steps, but you quickly recover as you start to laugh. That is, until, a force comes slamming into your shoulder and sends you stumbling back.

As you catch your balance again the shock of the collision fades, quickly replaced by blinding anger. You almost swung on her purely on instinct until you caught sight of a flannel-clad arm just in the corner of your vision.

“Oops,” Shauna mutters, voice dripping with insincerity. Your immediate confusion cools the edges of your rage, leaving you on edge and a little unsure as you stare at her. You’ve seen Shauna start plenty of shit, sure, but she’d never even bothered to interact with you at school before. You weren’t even sure what you could have done to set her off this time.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” She continues, seeming annoyed at your continued silence. You glare over at her as you rub at your shoulder, but it doesn’t seem to affect her anyway. She stares impassively at you, tilting her head to the side with a sarcastic smile as if daring you to do something about it. Shauna’s nonchalant demeanor does little to alleviate your growing irritation as you stare at her, rolling your eyes before looking around the hallway.

There are a few curious eyes on the both of you, but they quickly look away the second they catch you staring back at them. Students shuffle past and around you, talking aimlessly and oblivious to the standoff between the two of you.

It’s as if Shauna’s testing your patience, a subtle plea for your attention masked under a detached smile. If she wanted to see you lose your composure you certainly weren’t going to give her the satisfaction.

No matter what she was trying to get out of this little stunt– and you’re sure there was a reason for it no matter how impulsive she can act– you're content in knowing you’ve gotten something from it too. She looks so pretty when she tries to stare you down, a growing irritation bubbling on her face as you take a moment to take it all in. Although you resent her attempt to intimidate you, there’s an undeniable allure in her audacity.

Shauna commands your attention even in the busy hallway, standing unperturbed as the crowd parts around her with her shoulders squared and chin lifted in a silent declaration of defiance. There’s an intensity to her eyes that borders on a challenge, a well of determination hidden behind her steely indifference. You meet her gaze head-on, almost smiling as a flash of surprise crosses her face.

You love it when she gets like this. There’s a deliberate wildness to her appearance, a calculated messiness that only entrances you more. She faces you with a practiced air of indifference that does little to hide the barely contained rage just under the surface if only you knew where to look. She constantly teeters just on the edge of control, on the verge of striking out at the slightest provocation. She’s an absolute force of nature, more than willing to take down anything that stands in her way.

Choking down your initial urge to confront her, you take a measured breath before giving her a wry smile. “Watch where you’re going next time,” You say evenly, emphasizing each word.

Shauna’s eyes narrow, her face faltering for just a moment. “Sure thing. My bad,” She replies casually, a hint of mockery in her voice as she tries to bait you again. Her frustration is almost palpable as you let the challenge go unprovoked once again. You shake your head in amusement, tearing your eyes away from her as you turn back to Nat.

Jackie, who’s been looking confusedly back and forth between you, grabs her by the arm and starts trying to drag her down the hallway. “Shauna wasn’t looking where she was going,” Jackie apologizes with a pinched smile.

She seems surprised when Shauna digs her feet in for a moment, tugging again as Shauna finally relents and lets herself be pulled away from you. Jackie’s fingers are wrapped tightly around her forearm as they walk off but Shauna doesn’t even seem to notice it as she finally drags her eyes away from you as they round the corner.

“What the fuck was that?” Nat mutters. You shrug, shoving your hands in your pockets as you feel for the edge of your lighter. You give her an easy smile as you find it, rubbing your thumb aimlessly across the surface as you push off the locker.

“Should probably get to class, yeah?”

Nat stares irritatedly at you for a moment before shrugging.

…

You tap your foot against the ground impatiently as you lean against the wall outside, starting to regret ever deciding to wait Shauna out. She was later than usual and you were starting to wonder if she was ever going to get out of the locker room. You knew from experience that you had a good twenty minutes in between when Shauna left the locker room and when Jackie did, but then again Shauna usually knew you were waiting for her.

You wondered idly if Shauna was making you wait on purpose, a little power play that you wouldn’t entirely put past her. Sometimes you thought she got some thrill out of knowing you were waiting around for her, but you couldn’t entirely blame this one on her. Maybe she’s gotten caught up in her own little world as she waited around for Jackie, unaware she had someone impatiently waiting for her outside. Still, you had a sneaking suspicion that Shauna wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit in her car alone to write angsty prose in her journal while Jackie was busy talking with their coach.

You imagine her now, sitting sideways across the seat with her journal propped up on her knees as her pen moved furiously across the page. It’s a sight you’ve become all too familiar with lately; Even the sound her pen makes as she presses down just hard enough to threaten to rip the page in her anger has become oddly soothing. Despite her hidden penchant for dramatics, you find that there’s a surprising depth to her, one that extends far below the surface of any ideas you’ve previously held about her. There’s just something about her that resonates with you on a visceral level, lingering in your thoughts long even when you’d rather push her aside.

You’re almost embarrassed at how attractive you’ve started to find her brooding. She just feels everything so deeply, and you find yourself captivated and frustrated by it in equal measure as you try to rationalize her behavior. You knew that there had to be some reason behind whatever little stunt she was pulling in the hallway, but for the life of you, you just couldn’t find a reason. You want there to be a reason.

You need there to be a reason, otherwise, she was just pushing you around for no reason. You never thought you’d see the day when you were excusing one of her moody rituals, but you’ve become smitten with her despite your better judgment. Shauna could be mean, as you well knew, but you’ve never known her to be cruel. You so badly want that to be true, even as you keep getting the sneaking suspicion that she’s just toying with–

Ah, footsteps. You grin.

You wait a minute for her to pass by you before you push off the wall, trailing a few steps behind her as she walks toward her car. She turns suddenly as she reaches it, obviously hearing someone walk up behind her. The anger in her eyes fades the second she catches sight of who it is, a moment of unease passing over her face as she sizes you up. “What are you doing here?” She asks, not prepared to find you here and seemingly off balance

“What was that, earlier?” You press, momentarily distracted by the faint sheen of moisture that still clings to her skin after her shower.

Shauna huffs, her eyes rolling as she makes a half-hearted attempt to open the door of her car. You step forward and slam your hand against the top of the door, cutting off her retreat and effectively trapping her between your body and the door. You’re almost annoyed by her lackluster attempt– did she seriously just try to hide in her car? She looks pissed as she glances between you and the door, clearly realizing she’s going to have to confront you one way or the other. You’d take either, honestly, as long as she addressed the tension between you. You were getting sick of letting her set the pace all the time.

Her narrowed eyes betray her irritation as she looks up at you, but there’s a flicker of something else in her expression that only makes you want to push her more. A long moment of silence passes between you, Shauna’s heavy breaths as she tries to reign in her anger the only sound you can hear. This silent confrontation is unfamiliar, a definite departure from your usual dynamic that seems to make Shauna equally uncomfortable. As the seconds tick by, Shauna's seemingly detached confidence begins to falter, revealing the cracks in her armor as she finally gives in.

“What was what?” Shauna asks finally, more uncomfortable with the silence stretching between you than any desire to actually have this conversation. You’ll work with what you get.

“That shit you pulled in the hallway. Seriously, Shipman? You shoulder-checked me.”

“Just a little bump in the road,” She says with a careless wave of her hand, her tone bordering on indifference.

You sputter angrily over your words, hating the way she managed to work you up over nothing. “Seriously? A ‘bump in the road’? That’s your idea of an apology?” You snap.

“Of course not,” She says, giving you a wry smile. Shauna seems to get a perverse sort of pleasure from getting under your skin. You just wish you didn’t make it so easy sometimes. “I wasn’t apologizing.”

“God, Shipman. You’re so fucking irritating I–”

“Shauna!” She snaps, interrupting you mid-sentence and leaving you momentarily flustered. Your eyes narrow in confusion as you try to gather your thoughts.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

“You’ve had your tongue in my mouth. I think you can bear to call me by my name, can’t you?” Her words hang unanswered in the air, and you’re left speechless and a little embarrassed by the implications of her words. You feel a twinge of unease at the declaration, unsure how to respond as you stare blankly at her.

“What? Nothing to say?” She prods, immediately getting self-conscious in your continued silence. An embarrassed Shauna was a dangerous Shauna, as you well know.

“You had so much to say to Nat earlier,” She spits, mockingly imitating a high-pitched laugh.

“Is that what this is, Ship– Shauna? You’re fucking jealous?”

“What? Fuck off.” She scoffs, noticeably not meeting your eyes. You almost laugh in her face. Shauna was many things, but a good liar was certainly not one of them.

“Well, as long as you’re not jealous then,” You say dismissively, on the verge of losing your temper.

“Of course not,” She agrees, nodding solemnly.

You groan, casting a glance away to hide your irritation. There’s just something about her that was constantly leaving you torn between attraction and exasperation. Whatever.

You knew how you could get both out at once. You tilt your head to the side, a questioning look on your face that Shauna quickly answers with a knowing look as she closes the distance between you. Communication may not be your strong suit, but there’s one thing you both seem to excel at.

You press Shauna further up against the car, tilting her head to the side to expose the length of her neck. You press your lips against her neck in a quick kiss, soothing the area before bringing your teeth into play. Shauna cries out at the sting, hands grasping at the back of your shirt as she tries to pull you as close as possible, lost in the feeling.

Her breath starts to come out faster, her chest rising and falling in time with her excitement as her fingers dig into your back. You shudder at the feeling of her nails scraping against your skin through your shirt as she tries to regain some semblance of control over the interaction, but it’s clear from her reaction that she’s rapidly losing that battle. Shauna’s voice cracks halfway through a breathy insult as you nip at the crook of her neck, one hand falling from your shirt as she pulls you closer instead by your belt loops. The movement of her hips is subtle at first, quickly becoming insistent as she parts her thighs. You try not to think about how public it is, or that someone could see it.

She gasps as your teeth mark a trail across her skin, leaving small little marks behind you know she’ll only resent later when she has to try to explain it to Jackie. Unfortunately for her you rather enjoyed being on the receiving end of that rage– there was just something about that fire in her eyes. You catch sight of her, her flushed skin and parted lips taking your breath away.

She comes back to herself for a moment, a heady mix of passion and possession on her face as she takes you in. “Mine,” She whispers, her voice low and rough as she reaches a hand up to tangle it in your hair. She states it like it was a simple fact, and you hate the way that you want to agree with her. It doesn’t seem like she cares much for your opinion either, tugging you down by the hair as she crashes your lips together.

So, yeah. You didn’t quite get the confrontation you wanted this time either. What you did get was having to book it as you heard Jackie making her way toward the car, leaving a flustered Shauna to fix her mused hair and pretend like she hadn’t just been riding your thigh as Jackie rounded the corner. All in all, you consider it a win.

…

You can't make out the sounds of the argument happening outside the door over the sound of the ringing in your ears, but you weren't in the right mind to care about it anyway. You absently note the thumping sounds of boots making their way down the hallway as you catch sight of your flushed face in the mirror, breath still heavy with exertion as you cling to the edges of the counter with trembling hands. In the more rational part of your mind, you know that the counter isn’t the only thing anchoring you to the moment, but you cling desperately to the semblance of control gained from its unyielding support.

If you were more cognizant you'd be upset about the state of your favorite jacket, sleeves spotted red with the evidence of your anger. You didn’t know whose blood was on your hands, yours or his, but the distinction felt pointless. At the end of the day one of you was bleeding and it was entirely your fault. You exhale shakily, trying to take deep breaths to tame your racing heart as it beats through your chest. You stare into the mirror at your disheveled appearance, face bruised from the few shots he'd managed to land in return before Nat dragged you away. Your reflection gazes back with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. You're oddly resentful of its silent witness to your emotions, its red-rimmed eyes serving as lasting evidence of your weakness.

The floorboards of the hallway creak as someone takes a heavy step forward, leaving you whirling around at the sound of the door opening behind you. Your eyes narrow as you catch sight of Shauna standing in the doorway, a strange intensity in her eyes as she takes you in. The room feels heavy with the weight of the words left unspoken between you, a strange tension filling you even as you push it from your mind in favor of gripping the counter as you struggle to rein in your emotions. Your hands slide on the slick white countertop, already stained with your bloody fingerprints.

You feel a pang of regret at the sight, quickly replaced by another wave of rage as you remember what started it. Maybe you shouldn't have hit him that hard, but he definitely should have known better than to make Jackie cry. If it hadn't been you it would have been Shauna– which, when you think about it that way, you were sort of doing him a favor in a roundabout way by sparing him from her wrath. She would have done much worse, after all.

You freeze for a moment, a sudden consideration of how your actions must have looked from the outside. God, the last thing you needed was Jackie following you around like a lost puppy. You can almost picture it now, Jackie linking your arms together and talking your ear off while Shauna shook with rage on her other side. Maybe you'd get lucky and Jackie would be too drunk to remember, sparing you from her well-meaning but seemingly suffocating affection.

You were a little resentful that she got involved in the first place. You didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, and if you did it certainly wouldn’t be Jackie Taylor of all people. Still, when he started running his mouth about insults you’ve long since grown immune to, Jackie was the first person to jump to your defense. You weren’t sure quite what you’d done to gain her fervent loyalty, but you weren’t sure you wanted it either. You think you might need to find a way to lose it sooner than later before it gets you into more trouble: you always were a sucker for crying girls.

A hand rests heavily on your shoulder, dragging you forcefully back to reality. You instinctively shrug it off, holding her wrist tightly between your fingers as you turn to face her. The two of you lock gazes for a long moment before you finally look away, loosening your grip but still holding her wrist in your hand. You think for a moment about lacing your fingers but quickly decide against it as you drop her hand entirely. It serves to ease some of your tension, shoulders relaxing as you lean back against the counter to scrutinize her. Shauna’s watching you just as closely, eyes lingering on the developing bruises on your face before settling on your hands.

You sigh as you turn back around, turning the tap on as you try to clean your hands off. “Where's Nat?”

“Managed to run her off,” Shauna says, stepping up to the side of the sink to watch.

“Nat's not one to be pushed around. Must've tricked her into thinking you aren't a heinous bitch.”

She shrugs, the quirk of her lips betraying her amusement. “It’s a gift.”

You scoff, letting it go unanswered as you gently dry your hand off. Shauna looks disappointed as you pull your now clean hand out, an unsubtle motion you’re too nervous to question.

“Why’d you do that?” She asks finally, her voice tinged with an unusual hint of urgency.

“Do what?”

She doesn’t relent, gaze piercing as she presses on for an explanation. “Start a fight over Jackie.”

“Who says I did it for her? Did you hear what he called me?” You deflect, starting to walk out of the bathroom before Shauna grabs tightly to your wrist and turns you around. You meet her eyes with practiced disinterest, hoping to avoid this line of questioning. You weren’t sure she’d like your answer, far too tangled in emotions she prefers not to address. You consider just saying it outright, putting the truth out there and making her deal with it however she wants. But the moment soon passes, too afraid of it blowing up in your face.

There are a lot of questions you want to ask her that you know she’ll only sidestep, distracting you with glimpses of skin till you relent– it’s almost nice to be the one withholding answers for once.

“You’re so frustrating, you know that? You give me such a headache.”

“Is that why you’re always in such a shitty mood?” You quip, unable to resist the urge so clearly presented to you. You smirk as you watch her reaction. Her jaw clenches, a flash of irritation crossing her face before she looks away. She’s tense for a moment before nodding stiffly. There’s a strange vulnerability in her begrudging acknowledgment, seeming almost impressed.

Shauna reaches for your face with deliberate slowness, like she hadn’t quite made her mind up on touching you before she started reaching. Despite your initial urge to back away you decide to let her, tilting your head along with the motion of her hand as she directs your chin from side to side to get a good look at you. The weight of her eyes is almost suffocating as she closely examines the contours of your face. She carefully traces the bruises with her fingertips, a surprising tenderness that you’ve only come to expect after hookups.

It feels strangely out of place now, leaving you stiff and unsure as you allow the gentle caress. You can’t help but wonder what she’s looking for if she’s searching for signs of weakness or simply concerned. It’s a complex thought and one that you don’t usually allow yourself. What if?

“You looked hot,” She says absently, snatching her hands away from your face as if the admission burned her.

She looks as surprised as you feel, her mouth opening and closing before settling on a simple, albeit cutting remark. “Hope your face gets better. It’s the only thing you’ve got going for you.”

The comment stings just like she knew it would, but the flicker of regret on her face is far more interesting. You find yourself holding your breath, daring to hope that she might finally say something real.

Shauna stops in the doorway, looking like she wants to say something else before she shakes her head and turns on her heels. You stare in her direction as she disappears from view, the sound of her footsteps carrying to the stairs until all you’re left with is silence.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #minors dni

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