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kpopfanfictrash · 3 years

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Note

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg oneshot #mgg x reader

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blacksunscorpio · 3 years

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Hey, I'm so happy that I found your blog, your work and dedication are superb, you are such a special human being for helping some many people with their inquiries ❤ I don't know if you had already talked about this but I'd be curious to see your opinion on Pisces descendent

Ascendant/Descendant Axis

In the natal chart, there is an intersection of the Ascendant (Asc)- Descendant (Dsc). These are located in the 1st house and the 7th House. Also known as one of the two “angles” of the chart. They are both Cardinal by nature.

Your ascendant is the mask your wear to the world. Your “face”, essentially. It’s how you project yourself and even how you appear physically/your aesthetic. Like a mirror to the Ascendant, the Descendant reveals the qualities we would like to reflect and project into others. It describes how we feel attracted to other people as well as the traits we also have, but which need to be developed within the self or through relationships. The following can help illustrate the magnetic parallel between the two points and how they reflect yourself vs your relationships.

Aries Ascendant /Libra Descendant

In tight partnerships, one is preoccupied mostly with personal image and can often take the blame if a relationship does not work out. This native often asserts their independence. They prefer to get their own way, and if they don’t there can be displays of anger. Too much pressure for relationship outcomes to go their way can cause disharmony. They want their partner to consider their needs but often, the same is not reciprocated. If a relationship does not maintain their interest, they can move on to the next without a second thought. They need stimulation to keep their interest. This is because they seek excitement. Boredom feels physically painful. They tend to attract partners who let them make the decisions. This can be good because they like taking charge but bad because they don’t care for codependency. They often favor relationships where the partner has some level of independence. They admire strength and integrity. To maintain balanced relationships you must learn to be less self-centered, more sharing, and more considerate of your partner’s needs; then your relationships will be balanced and rewarding.

Libra Ascendant / Aries Descendant

You need to share your life with others in a peaceful and harmonious way but in marriage and other close relationships, you are being taught to stand up for yourself because you can feel dominated by the strength of your partner or other people’s characters. People with this placement often think “I want my needs met but I’m not sure how to do it without rocking the boat or stepping on toes.”

Fuck their toes. You need to learn to become independent and make your own decisions. The good news is, more often than not this will be exercised and learned by proxy via your partner and others. If the lesson to become independent is not learned, the fear of being dominated in close friendships, relationships, and marriage can become self-fulfilling prophecies. If relationships become unbalanced or a sense of diplomacy is not recognized, these natives often do everything in their power to restore said sense of equilibrium and harmony. Take care not to keep going back to unhealthy or toxic relationships because of your deep need to keep the peace. Setting a hard line is integral to keeping you safe from abusers/or relationships where you’re being run rough-shod on.

Taurus Ascendant / Scorpio Descendant

From a very early age, one with this placement might find that others aren’t as forthright as they should be with them. On one hand, their loved ones can show gestures that make these natives feel deeply appreciated but on the other hand, they can feel nebulous over other acts that challenge their sense of security and trust. Native’s are passionate and feel deeply especially once they do fall in love. Depth is something they easily comprehend however, jealousy and/or possessiveness can make them deeply insecure. You have a strong desire to develop your personal resources in order to contribute to close relationships, and you will work very hard to achieve security in any close partnership. They’ll do their best to be supportive of those they love but their sense of stability can be overtaken in the two-way pull of other people’s interests. Lovers who are co-dependent may try to tighten their hold on you when they sense any sign of retreat or independence. This can lead to unhealthy power struggles, manipulation, or a “push-pull” dynamic that can become very unhealthy and at its worst, dangerous. It's imperative to know that you can love and trust. Once this is accomplished, one with this placement can experience and enjoy deep, intense relationships that are at the same time, stable and lasting.

Scorpio Ascendant / Taurus Descendant

With this placement, natives play to your strengths to diminish weaknesses. They do their best to not use their powers for destructive ends. In relationships, they deeply care for others and will often try to provide for their lovers but this can lead to either their partners being co-dependent and too reliant or they can rely on other people which can deplete inner resources. You are likely incredibly influential among your peers- and it’s important that you pull away from the urges to use this for your own material gain exclusively. They are in a constant state of evolution and learning. They are never the same person over long periods of time which can cause lovers to not evolve with them. Trust issues live here. They often shield themselves from their emotions but they will care deeply for the emotions of others. They need to take care not to swing too far one way or the other because they can go to extremes. Shut people out and be unable to relate or overextending themselves. There’s a powerful presence than sort of emanates off of you but that can also cause you to draw in leeches who leave you feeling hurt. You can also have issues with jealousy and possessiveness when you do fall deeply. If you unite your resources equally with your partner and others, then you can have deeply rewarding relationships.

Cancer Ascendant /Capricorn Descendant

This placement requires emotional stability through harmonious family relationships. Quite protective of those you love but in your attempt to protect those you love- they can, by proxy, control you. The partners you attract can be very executive, business-minded, and ambitious. If the proper boundaries aren’t set, they can feel trapped in domestic day-to-day while your lover is out pursuing their own interests. If marriage occurs, they will do their best to nurture it to the best of their ability. They want success in love. They want security in love. There’s a strong need to keep the family close and thick as thieves. Sometimes this even involves sacrificing their own happiness. They may face issues of security and control in their immediate and extended familial ties, included but not limited to their partner’s family or closely associated family connections. It’s important to find balance. You can’t be everything to everyone all the time. If you nurture and care for your family and build your future security with your partner and family, then you will have enduring and long-lasting relationships.

Capricorn Ascendant / Cancer Descendant

Family values are paramount to those with this placement. They’ll base the way they approach said relationships on family conditioning. Look to their relationships with their family for a good look at how they’ll treat you. Your partner may find it difficult to get along with family members which can make things tense...even awkward. You might find yourself the one trying to keep the peace and understand everyone’s feelings. Law and order sort of come in here. At least in your approach to family and relationships. The influences of your partner’s early childhood can have an emotional effect on your relationship with him/her which can leave you trying to keep control in otherwise uncontrollable situations. Often this native will look to their partner to gain support in the familial sense. This works because they have a practical, logical approach to life. Their relationships will mimmick this. If you’re looking to soften your approach, your partner can help you with this as they will typically be the nurturing type. Conflicts in your relationship with your partner can arise when love and affection are denied through family conditioning. Break those chains/generational curses. It only takes one person to change lifetimes of habitual toxicity. The welfare of your relationships should not revolve around confining and limiting rules and regulations. Matters of emotional security and family control will have to be balanced. If you find the balance, love will endure through the difficult times in life. For better or worse, richer or for poorer.

Gemini Ascendant / Sagittarius Descendant

From an early age, Intellectual exchange is paramount. However, approaching the opposite sex might not have been an easy feat. You like to know the very fine detail of your interpersonal relationships. The inner workings and minutiae. Why? Because dialog is important to you. Both Gemini and Sag like to talk. Use their minds. The lower and the higher. This is displayed in relationships. Intellect and reason are utilized when one with this placement faces relationship problems, but with your own freedom in mind. You put a lot of thought into resolving relationship issues. Words are important to you and you operate on that frequency, so those who stimulate your mind are among your favorite to interact with. But your zealous approach to defending your points may come off as dogmatic. You tend to judge situations and give your opinion spontaneously which can lead to hastiness in others’ reactions towards you. Your nature is to sort out problems through gaining as much information as you can in order to reach intelligent conclusions. However, too much mental sparring can lead to hard feelings between you and your lover if things are left to go overboard. Here lives a sapiosexual. One who is turned on my knowledge and intelligence. A fair soul lives here. Or at least, one who strives to be. It’s imperative to look beyond your own opinions and give credit to others' opinions, then you will have balanced and rewarding relationships.

Sagittarius Ascendant / Gemini Descendant

Being confined is not your forte. In fact, you refuse to be. By anyone. The free spirit of Mercury and the expansion mindedness of Jupiter are living together here. This is the type of person that may often do the “Irish Exit” at a social event. Your partnerships often being mental. Through dialogue and interaction on a thoughtful level. However at times due to Jupiter’s penchant for excessiveness, your opinion can dominant conversations which can leave your partner feeling resentful. Your nature is fire. And just as your relationships are lively, dramatic, and exciting, the confrontations can be as well. Appreciations for others' opinions and ideas from an objective place can salvage relationships when fights and dogma ruffle feathers. Not everything is a personal attack. Take care not to jump to conclusions as this placement has a tendency to do so. Preachiness when not monitored can turn partners/friends off. Expect a “tell it like it is” approach here. Sometimes the native can be so strong-minded tact is often forgotten. Relationships are strongest when one remains free-spirited, optimistic, and understanding. When the mind is satiated and free thought is encouraged, your relationships will prosper.

Leo Ascendant / Aquarius Descendant

The kind of love this native thrives on is all-encompassing. They want to feel adored but affection can also take a more detached vibe. There’s a deep warmth to you and your love for people in general, the collective, and beyond is hard to miss. one with this placement may know many people. Get along with many and have a large social network. Your partner may be starkly different in that sense. They may have a completely different social circle. At times you may feel your light doesn’t shine. You can be the one to take initiative and set plans between you and those you love. You often have to operate on your partner’s wavelength to understand their thoughts or get yours across. Though it’s almost second nature for you to befriend people, only the meaningful and worthwhile connections are save for your partner to be witness to. Your partner is more detached than you so it can frustrate you when you've seen as the type to put on a show by them. They will opt to walk away and not engage in conflict to keep the peace. When you were young, you had a vision of all-consuming love, but you may feel life has dealt you a raw deal, often giving you the opposite of what you crave. However, if you find the balance in friendship and love, your partner can be your best friend and everything you could wish for.

Aquarius Ascendant / Leo Descendant

You look at life through a kaleidoscope lens. Nothing is black and white to you. You give free thought and entertain multiple perspectives and enjoy engaging with others who do the same. You like to look at everything from different angles. You need the freedom to pursue your own community interests and goals outside your relationships, but this can lead to difficulties within your relationships. Though you can understand and identify with emotion, you do not live in this space. Your emotions are detached and you see everything from an objective point of view. Your amiable manner attracts large groups of people but your partner may try to get you to be more emotional. This is something you’re not readily comfortable with. Be careful because they can take your desire for space as disinterest. They can mistake your free-loving nature for abandonment. Balance is needed in regard to your partner's interests and yours, otherwise, relationships may feel unlively and lackluster. You’ll be craving something else or more excitement. However, you’ll be very loyal as long as your partner respects the fact that emotional displays and dramatics will have the adverse effect they’re seeking. Keep it real. And don’t forget to sympathize.

Virgo Ascendant / Pisces Descendant

In love and partnerships, you may see the “idealized” version you've created for others rather than the reality of them. This includes but is not limited to, placing them on pedestals, or pinning fantasies on them that they may not live up to. This can cause you to feel disillusioned if balance isn’t met. Be compassionate with yourself just as you are compassionate and sensitive in your personal life. Health and/or work issues or issues having very much to do with the 6th house may present themselves in the love life. You have a natural penchant to set very high and at times impossible standards for yourself. You also love to set a pristine environment for your lover or those you love in general. You love to organize which your partner will appreciate. Partners may show your love by giving you creative gifts or even serenading you. You may even attract an occasional crooner/musician/artist. High expectations are natural for you to have in relationships- so much so that if the object of your affections doesn’t meet them, you can criticize them. However because you are service and work minded, you’ll often stay dedicated to your relationships. Your life is one of service. You may often have a savior complex or others may perceive you as someone who can “rescue” them. You attract the down-and-out types. An underdog. Take care not to allow yourself to be the martyr as you often put others’ needs ahead of your own. Do not allow this to go too far or else sentiments of resentment and being “taken advantage” of may rear their heads. If you stay organized and learn to be realistic in how you demonstrate and expect to receive love, setting firm boundaries while being compassionate as well, your relationships will thrive and stay on the healthy road.

Pisces Ascendant / Virgo Descendant

Your personality can be malleable due to your mutable nature. Sometimes you’ll chameleonize yourself to fit the mold your loved ones want you to fit. This placement can make one impressionable or there can be a mysterious vibe here. However, your interests at work can match those you fall for. Idealism is your strong suit. On the other hand, more often than not, your partner may be a realist and quite diligent at work. You are extremely empathetic, almost to a psychic degree. This is typically why people are drawn to you. You have an uncanny knack for making others feel like individuals. As if they are special. Take care not to try to be everything to everyone or you’ll end up raining your energy stores. Being an idealist, you prefer to avoid conflict as you are more passive by nature. Arguments and beef give you anxiety. Just remember that a practical approach is necessary otherwise you can find yourself jaded. Things can be confusing to you sometimes and you can have a hard time making sense of things because Neptune which dissolves is on your rising. Your out of the box and otherworldly thinking can break down the most regimented person and new solutions can bring harmony and love into your relationships. Natives with this placement need to take care not to allow others to define them. Be your own person. As a result, your relationships will bear healthy fruit.

Nadir/Midheaven Axis in Astrology

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johobi · 4 years

Text

A Lycan Dignity

Word count: 4k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: rough, penetrative werewolf sex, pregnancy sex, blood consumption, biting, knotting, squirting, very strong dom/sub dynamic, extremely graphic sexual description lol, impreg kink, baby bump worship, masturbation, giant COCK, i mean huge, tiny amount of angst

A/N: This was commissioned by the wonderful @divine-bangtan in exchange for a Black Lives Matter donation! I really hope you enjoy it!

Next: Mark of the Beast || Tooth and Claw Masterlist

Sympathetic to the plight of the werewolves your kind have culled to near-extinction, life as a human informant has never been one of safety. However, when you catch the eye of an alpha, your situation only grows more perilous.

After many months of unremitting use, your once solid bed frame had become a rickety, wretched old thing. Its joints ground like those of a horse bound for the knackery. Weeks ago, you thought it near total collapse. Since then, however - though it protested any and all movement - it had remained intact. Because, no longer did you and Jungkook breed with the impassioned fervour you once did. No, these days your bed hosted only the most lacklustre of sex; the sort you never imagined needing endure when you tied yourself to him. After all, Jungkook was an oversexed, testosterone-burdened manbeast with a twelve inch cock and a negligible refractory period. So why was it now so scant? So underwhelming?

According to him, it was necessary.

Ugh.

Oh, how you longed for the days and nights Jungkook would run you all the way through, bending you this way and that to offload himself for the third, consecutive time. How he would grow and grow and grow, locking into place in the depths of your cunt and soothe you all the while.

Being that you were now five months pregnant, however, you were the only one ballooning. God, you missed his knot. Missed the intensity with which he once bedded you. Missed the—

“Does that feel okay?”

“It’s fine.”

Presently, Jungkook mounted you with the shallowest of thrusts, barely wetting half his length. The bed swayed beneath you, tapping the wall to the rhythm of his gently rolling hips. Before you’d grown big, it had clapped the cabin’s pine like thunder, and splintered where it struck. Today you clutched a pillow for comfort as Jungkook rocked you into a drowsy stupor.

It was so quiet that his breathing carried across you. It, too, was shallow - hardly laboured - and sometimes there came an occasional grunt of effort. Or perhaps of pleasure? It was difficult to distinguish to what extent the act satisfied Jungkook when he restrained himself so. By the furrow in his brow, it appeared more akin to torture. It certainly was for you. Your libido had grown unruly during gestation, and nothing much gratified you.

Nothing but your aforementioned, well-endowed mate. Only he could alleviate the nagging ache.

So it was to your utter dismay when Jungkook deemed you too large for such boisterous intercourse, and insisted you be handled like some delicate bijou. It was preposterous! You were tough enough to withstand a decade’s duty in the militia’s vanguard! A few extra inches of cock weren’t like to break you.

In the end, despite two full days of moody back-and-forth on the matter, he tempered your lovemaking significantly. And though your post-coital canoodling was as much to your joy and satisfaction as it ever was, you found the preceding act painfully lacking. Actually, literally painful. Pregnancy was quite intolerable.

You challenged Jungkook on several, fruitless occasions thereafter. But his constant dismissals would not deter you. Especially not today, when the entirety of you quivered for satiation, and he had been drip-feeding you cock for the past twenty-odd minutes. It was maddening. The path to climax was a sleet-sodden slope that you could never hope to climb.

"Jungkook, please, enter me fully. There’s no need for such caution. I know it hurts you to hold back." And me. “How many times must I assure you that I’m not as fragile as you think me?" You grimaced at the headboard as Jungkook probed your entrance with middling impetus. His girth was such that your cunt begged and fluttered to receive it deeper, distressed by the gaping space that went unfilled.

“Hmph.”

Jungkook’s considerable weight descended,�� blanketing your back to secure your compliance. With his breath at your ear, he interwove your fingers and exerted pressure enough to bow you to the blanket. Your ass, however, remained high and accessible; as submissive a posture there was. By the devilish chuckle that blew across your cheek, Jungkook already thought himself the victor of this quarrel. "And how many times must I ask you not to challenge me? I know my own strength." It was difficult to rebuke him when his lips skirted your ear so. So soft and wet and careful in their pressure.

"And I know your strength just as well. I have been on the receiving end of it for months before th-this—ah!" Pain suffused your neck where Jungkook’s mouth lingered. He curled his lip at your continued defiance. Out of the corner of your eye, his fangs bore a red glaze.

Mayhaps it was a warning, but it only served to embolden you.

"Nothing you could do would harm the pups. Please, Jungkook. I'm begging you." He liked being begged. Liked when you relinquished your power and station entirely. Because, outside your bedchambers, you were as important and respected as he. That he liked, too.

Your particularly bullish nature meant that Jungkook relished your surrender. Especially in the aftermath of contentious discussions. There had been many an occasion where Jungkook’s red-blooded urges almost jeopardised tactical assemblies, because he simply could not ignore them. Particularly the meetings where you butted heads on some divisive detail or another. The tension grew so stark during these exchanges that it cowed the other attendants into silence. You would exchange little else, thereon, but sultry glares, and Jungkook would orbit you in inappropriate proximity, breathing down your neck and rubbing you where others could not see. The sex after those meetings was singularly wild.

Jungkook attested often to his being a tethered beast, but you were the one with the leash. “Please. Put it all the way in,” you snivelled. “Alpha.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched at your urging; you felt him on your back, chest broad and feverish. He did not perspire out of exertion but sheer sexual frustration. It was obvious by the weight with which his balls hung; you spied them between your legs when you looked beneath. "Please, alpha. Take me completely."

Furtively, you grinned. Jungkook was an astute man. However, he was also a simple, dick-driven creature.

“Argh!”

A snarl seared your ear, drawing gooseflesh in its wake. You tilted your head to behold him; to enthrall him with lust-lidded eyes. But it was you who was captivated. Jungkook would never be anything less than breathtakingly handsome. The type women ripped costly bodices for. He was rugged; as hewn in the jaw as he was in body, and with eyes so honest you could be sup from his soul. Your mouth hung in open appreciation of his masculine beauty. Jungkook’s hips stuttered, then, as you drunk one another in. A fleeting slip, but enough to propel him deeper for a crucial moment. The repercussions manifested immediately. Your eyes rolled in their sockets and out came a harrowing groan. The entirety of your body tautened as your cunt did, grasping at his elusive length as it again withdrew. "Ugh. Jungkook!"

"Cease your attempts to seduce me, woman," Jungkook menaced, butting aside your head and raking his fangs along the angle of your jaw. "Your charms will not work." His tongue laved wherever they grazed, his hands surrendering your hips only to snake beneath and caress your rotund belly. So tender was he in his touches, that your cunt pulled with desire. Jungkook splayed his fingertips, cradling your circumference as best he could in his calloused palms. He muttered something soft and indiscernible about our children as he admired you, your provocation momentarily forgotten.

His cheek came by yours, then, rounded nose drifting to your temple to huff in your pregnant scent. According to him, you’d become overwhelmingly, wonderfully fragrant. Such that he would pine if denied it too long.

Chamomile.

That was what you effused while with child.

Jungkook’s favourite tea.

The headbutt that came next would reasonably incapacitate the average person; indeed, it was so strong that your knees rattled on their hinges. But Jungkook went unscathed, nuzzling a path through your tangled hair, air whooshing through his nostrils as he scented you. "God, you are beautiful. So round, so full. And utterly mine," Jungkook murmured, teetering on the fringes of abandon. He continued his ardent groping with a whine.

Had he really sabotaged his own restraint?

How funny that his undoing was his own. Positively hilarious.

That was, until you felt his cock sink deliberately deeper. Jungkook groaned as you did, though you were far more shameless in your desperation. “Oh, God—!”

"Fuck!" The curse word unravelled into a low, ungodly growl.

"Yes, Jungkook. More—" Your hands scrabbled for purchase on his backside, but it soon retreated out of reach as he again withdrew. "Godfuckingdamnit! What must I do to convince you? Please, do it again. I can take it!"

"I will not. It’s too much a risk. What happened was—was entirely unintentional, and I won’t allow it to happen again." He stated it with resolve, but his hips stuttered traitorously, heeding not him but the wolf within him. A rush of breath buffeted your shoulders and then Jungkook's nose was again in your nest of hair, inhaling himself to his senses. "That is the end of it," he murmured on exhale, seemingly sobered. "Now, let us continue." Penetration resumed at its previous, underwhelming pace, maddening you to your very marrow.

"Fine." A growl of your own grew in your chest. "Then I will not submit to you today."

When you dared look Jungkook’s way, the sheer displeasure buckling his features very nearly undid your determination. His brows hung gravely over his eyes, obscuring their usual, gentle glimmer with a severity that stirred your wanton pussy. "You will. You will always submit to me. I am your alpha," Jungkook stated with a snap of his teeth, seeking to subdue you with his hefty physique.

Oh, you absolutely would and should submit but it was imperative you defy him now or you would never see satiety.

With something of such import in the balance, you heaved yourself onto your elbows and then your hands, quaking beneath the werewolf that hung plastered to your back. As you rose, as you straightened your spine in defiance and denied Jungkook your submission, the growl behind you grew in outrage. His cock stalled at your opening, tip still between your folds.

“Not today.”

Jungkook's lips curled back along his gums, a slight tremor to his tautened jaw. Two, prominent fangs confronted you in the candlelight, your skin prickling where they'd countless times pierced. His authority was difficult to oppose when the mere visage of this apex predator was enough to buckle your knees and sodden your cunt. "You're a baffling woman. I've dominated you on hundreds of splendid occasions, and today is the day you defy me? Must I subjugate you again, my sweet?"

As much as you yearned to present him your sopping hole, it would be another five months of unrealised desire if you did.

To hell with that.

“Come, now. Show me how ready you are to receive me.” Jungkook sought to bow you with nips and kisses, but you would not be bowed. Not this time. When this much became clear, he peeled himself from your back and his cock from your hole. Oh, no. No, this wouldn't do.

"If you will not obey me then you will not receive me at all," he snorted, as enraged and engorged as a hung bull. Truly, he was a marvel that you could not tear your desirous eyes from. Not when he knelt there so, in all his strapping, virile glory. You whined for what you were cruelly denied. Jungkook interpreted your meaning well. "It is your own fault." He vented frustration through his flaring nostrils. "Present yourself to me or I will simply finish all over you."

Your cunt pulsed in anguish and joy. What a dream it would be if he painted you, cock in hand and strangling it of cum. If his sac throbbed with each ejaculation as it fell across your body, hot and sticky. If his lips were bitten bloody and his eyes crinkled closed.

God.

Yes, it would be beautiful. But it would afford you nothing in the end but your own, spiritless fingers to finish with. Jungkook had been so keen a lover that you could not even recall the last time you masturbated. And you weren’t about to start now, as unquenchable as you were.

So, you persisted. Prayed that your ruse might finally bear fruit. It all culminated with this: "I won't. How about you I take you, so that I may seek my own pleasure? Get on your back. Offer your belly up to me, wolf, so I may sit on you."

In a lightning's flash Jungkook was atop you, one muscular forearm looping your hips and the other strong across your chest, claws toying with the malleable flesh of your swollen breasts. His weight suffocated you once more, but you did not resist when he sought to manoeuvre you into submission. Not when, in the ferocity of his outrage did he then stuff you full with his entire cock, plunging to your depths in one, fluid thrust. It took your breath away. Deprived you of your vision. For a moment, nothing but blood raged in your ears as you fully comprehended just how in want you were. "Oh, G-Gods."

A scramble of depraved utterances streamed from Jungkook's mouth as he handled you as he truly wished. With just the one, greedy hand he bullied your swaying breasts, squeezing them as if to strain you of milk. Every vulgar grope, every pull of your nipples manifested violently in your cunt, throttling Jungkook's monstrous cock in arrhythmic convulsions. "I-Is it truly safe?" He posed it to you as a throaty moan, his other hand charting the flesh of your inner thighs and skimming them like a potter might wet clay. As his thumbs brushed the apex between, willingly and desperately you split your legs further apart, elevating your backside for his inspection. The mere act of yielding to Jungkook sensitised you to him tenfold. Though you were not werekind, his influence was such in its potency that it affected you all the same. A familiar, innate desire to pleasure him overcame you. And as you submitted to him now, nothing thrilled you more than the whines of appreciation that kissed your ears as his full length stretched you silly. Jungkook murmured again; lower and in earnest. "____. Is it truly safe?"

"It is. A thousand times I've said it." As you spoke he shifted within you, and the world shifted too. The gratification was profuse. "The babes will come to no harm," you sang, sliding along the base of his girthy cock. "And neither will I. No, I need this. And so do you."

"I won't deny that." Was all he said before he pinned you like a ravenous beast its beaten prey, hips snapping, momentum rippling through you. Each drive of his pelvis bombarded your cunt with his weighty, bloated balls as he dove in deep. They struck you like a rider’s crop, again and again, until you were sore and splendidly puffy. “Fuck, you’re so deep. I forgot how far back you go. God, you’re made for me. My perfect, pretty little bitch.” Jungkook was quickly carnal. Every phrase concluded in a wolfish whine.

He rutted you with the vigour of his first heat, feverish and erratic, jamming you to your limits with his colossal cock. His tip kissed your cervix on repeat, greasing your insides with pre-cum as he ploughed apart your unyielding walls. He leaked it so liberally now, so profusely that it dribbled from around him. All the while you yelped up a din beneath him, fully engrossed in your deference to him. You glimpsed night sky in the bedsheets, spatterings of stars combusting before your very eyes. They fell as tears, streaking your cheeks wet with relief.

"Yes, yes—that's it. Oh, you feel so good, my love. S-So good." Jungkook pistoned into you with expert precision, sweeping across your g-spot with every frenzied pass. A glorious ache tugged at your navel as he did so, wringing your insides like a sopping sponge. And, oh, how you were sopping. Vulgarly so. Jungkook juiced your cunt each time he crammed you full, soaking the space between you. It lacquered his abdomen 'til he shined in the lowlight. Gods, he was gorgeous, you could not help but glimpse him past your shoulder, to observe him as he split you apart, his eyes sharp and expression fraught. Your cunt heaved at the sight and sensation of him, and spurred him on.

"You were right. So right." Jungkook's tongue flicked around his gaping mouth, touching on his teeth in concentration. His eyes remained fixed to the site of your messy joining, tracking the drag and draw of his throbbing cock. "You can take anything. You're so strong. So beautiful," he whispered between uneven breaths, adhering himself to your arching back and resuming his earlier, intimate ministrations. As his lower half rippled and rammed you, his upper half cocooned you in comfort, gifting touches so soft they could be whispers.

You sensed it before it came. Hot breath tickled your nape for the briefest moment and then, there it was, sharp and soothing, a bite as familiar as his tender kiss; the bite that affirmed your initial bonding. It no longer induced pain, only a midsummer's welcome warmth. This first bite was the gentlest; Jungkook reasserting his claim. But then he withdrew, and struck again, and again, latching onto your nape for purchase as he pounded himself into your cunt to eke mewls from you.

"Ngh, fuck, it's happening too soon." Jungkook sounded utterly bereft. He did not, however, slow his incessant pace. His zeal had displaced you so far up the bed that the headboard clattered against your cheek. Discomfort was an irrelevant notion when you were having the life fucked into you, however. "I should withdraw."

"No!" It was practically a scream. "Knot me. Please, it's been too long. I need it, I need all of you," you burbled, tears afresh in your eyes. You were so close. Something momentous accumulated in your abdomen; teased glimpses of divine completion.

"Fuck!" Jungkook's hands roved your underside in woeful abandon, gripping at you like he might yet reestablish restraint. Clearly he could not, for his next move was to indulge in the blood that trickled freely from your neck. His long, rough tongue lapped you clean of his excesses, and his lips made sweet reparation. "I want—" A wet, solemn kiss. "I w-want—" A quick, furious thrust between your legs. "I want to fill you to the brim."

"Yes, do it, alpha. Please, please." Your whining rivalled that of the den's neediest pups. "I'm strong, like you said. I can take it. There is nothing more I've wanted these past months than that. Please knot me, Jungkook." As incentive you pitched your backside higher, clenching both orifices for his appreciation. Jungkook observed the gesture keenly, his cock jumping to a stall within you.

“Sh-shit—”

With surprising composure, he cupped the back of your head and tilted you toward him. Your cheekbones brushed in passing, and the tips of your noses pressed close. He sifted your eyes for sincerity before pressing his lips to yours in a long, torrid kiss that conveyed all that you needed from him. As you parted, Jungkook's tongue lingered long enough to draw strings. And then he grinned. "Alright. As you deferred to me so readily." His pace quickened, escalating into a frenzy of cunt-cleaving thrusts that drove ruthlessly along your upper wall. "I shall oblige you."

"Oh God—" The reservoir within you burgeoned suddenly, pulsed behind your cunt for release. And as you felt the dam begin to fracture, Jungkook's fingers found your clit amidst your plastered folds. One, establishing touch was all it took to undo you. As the base of his cock began to thicken, a river of fluid rushed around it as you finally, joyously climaxed, eyes half-lidded and sightless as you ascended. Euphoria tinged your every atom and daubed the world white. You convulsed on end and with alarming force, your pussy gulping down Jungkook's rapidly ballooning cock. The stretch of him stung wonderfully, pushed apart your seizing hole without care for your capacity.

"F-Fuck." Jungkook faltered upon witnessing the ferocity with which you gushed. It soaked what little remained dry of his thighs, clinging to their definition. You gasped and moaned beneath him, dizzied by orgasm, your mouth agape and cheek crushed flat to the headboard. His vascular forearms shook to support him as he hurtled toward completion. "You needed all of me, hm?" Jungkook panted, drunk on lust and wild with power. He gloated over you like the primeval beast he was, fangs bared and liberated by instinct. "Your slippery little cunt missed this, didn't it?"

You mustered little more than a gurgle as he continued to ravage your boneless body, fucking through your spasming cunt until he himself began to twitch. "Sh-Shit, fuck," he exclaimed on high, head thrown back and knot taking root. Though you were spent and without much sense, Jungkook's sudden, violent expulsion shot new life through you. Together you groaned, until he began baying, grinding his turgid cock as far as his knot would allow, frustrated by its impediment. Possessed by ferality, Jungkook nipped desperate pleas into your bruised shoulders, grunting with each subsequent spurt he emptied into you. Though he could no longer snap his hips, they nonetheless dug into you as he milked himself of residue. “God. Shit. I—” Monosyllabic cusses continued to fall from him as he prised himself from your limp body. Without a moment’s reprieve he maneuvered himself to his knees so as to better inspect your expanding belly, his hands roaming your bulging expanses. "Yes." It was almost a hiss. "You are perfect. So full of me and mine."

"Indeed, I am." You cast him a struggling smile. When Jungkook returned it, it revitalised you. Your smile grew into a grin. "And what a lucky woman I am."

"Come, let us make you more comfortable," Jungkook muttered with a touch to your dampened cheek. Historically his knots did not always abate in a timely manner. Knowing this, Jungkook clutched you to his chest, adjusting you so as not to tug at your joining, nor disturb your swollen belly. Ever so gently he steered you onto your side, his sweat-slick body clinging to your back. His knot throbbed pleasantly within, interlocking you indefinitely. And you did not object, because this was when you felt most at peace, most loved, most protected. His arms cradled you, encircled your precious load, and all the while he washed you of perspiration and blood. No week went by where your neck and shoulders were not a spectrum of colour due to Jungkook's oral attention.

You did not object to that either.

"Thank you, Jungkook. I really needed that. I genuinely shed tears," you giggled, your breasts askew around his forearm. It tensed and pulled you closer.

"So did I." A growl laced his chuckle. "But I would never harm you or the pups to satisfy my own selfish desires. Forgive me my obstinacy, but I had to be sure."

"I understand. And we are safe. We're the safest with you, my love."

Jungkook suspended his rigorous bathing of you to kiss the crown of your head. "You are. Nothing shall befall you while I still breathe.

For a dreadful moment, your ongoing predicament punctured the post-coital glow. But you resolved not to let it. No, it could wait until tomorrow. In the here and now, you did not have to fret whether Jungkook would return home tomorrow. Whether his dinner would grow cold and your bed perennially so.

No.

In this moment, he was here, as were you. One bonded pair and their six, synchronous heartbeats.

Just a quick note to elaborate on the reader’s pregnancy, as I appreciate not everyone will have read these asks.

1) She is pregnant with four boys.

2) They develop in utero as wolves, and are born in that form too - therefore they are quite a bit smaller than human babies. So she isn’t particularly overburdened. A few months after birth they will begin popping in and out of both forms until they learn to control it.

Next: Mark of the Beast || Tooth and Claw Masterlist

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jeongguk #jeongguk smut #jungkook fluff #jeongguk fluff #jungkook x you #jeongguk x you #jungkook scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #werewolf!jungkook #werewolf!jeongguk #bts smut #bts scenarios #a lycan dignity #tooth and claw

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

welcome to the jungle {frankie morales}

summary: after taking a job with the delta guys, you cross paths with frankie morales. even though you’re at each other’s throats at first, it proves to be the start of something beautiful. (for @what-the--curtains - i hope you enjoy!!) - 7k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of ptsd

this is kinda ambiguous in terms of the timeline of the film but i sort of hint to the first half being before the events of t.f and the second half being after -- with that said, you can take it as you would like :D

- jazz

Your brother had dog sat for a few days.

In exchange, you were flying out to Colombia in the middle of your work week.

You believed in favours, but these two did not feel like they were equal.

Still, you were a person of your word - and getting to fly to South America was exciting. The job itself was exciting, if not a little...eyebrow raising. His friend, an ex-Delta soldier, needed somebody to ID a body. That part didn’t bother you - you were a forensic archaeologist after all and it was quite literally your job description. The suspicious bit was the circumstances under which you were doing it; Santiago Garcia hadn’t been entirely clear on the phone, but he’d said something about witnesses and getting the government off of our backs. You’d met Santiago a few times and you knew what kind of work he did - military stuff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was probably an under-the-radar kind of affair. But, you’d never been one to back down from a challenge.

So, here you were on a warm Colombian Tuesday afternoon, suitcase trailing behind you as you trekked towards a dusty old air base. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on your back in a way that had initially been comforting, but was now just plain annoying. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but packing three jackets now felt like a stupid idea. The one one you’d worn on the plane over had been long discarded and tied around your waist, which only added to the struggle of dragging your case up the steep, sandy hill. In the distance, you could see an ATC tower glinting under the sun - the streams of light bounced right back off of it, causing you to shield your eyes with your forearm. The taxi you’d gotten from the international airport - not like this sandy little place - had only taken you so far. At least, of all things, the boots you’d opted to wear were built for this kind of thing.

A few hundred meters up the road, you finally saw another sign of human life. A 4x4 was parked outside the abandoned terminal entrance, three men leaning against the side of it. You spotted Santiago standing a few metres away on his phone, thumbs tapping away. He didn’t look any different to the last time you saw him; dark and curly hair, a semi-friendly smile and stubble littering his chin. You hadn’t seen him since your brother’s birthday party a few months ago.

‘Hey!’ The former soldier offered you a grin when he saw you, holding his arms open. ‘Long time, no see!’

‘Hey, Santi!’ You replied, giving him a pat on the back as he pulled you into a hug. ‘And yeah, it’s been a while. Then again, when was the last time you were in the country for more than five minutes?’

‘I’m in high demand.’ He shot back.

Pulling back from the embrace, Santi pointed to his colleagues. There was Will and Benny, two blonde boys, both in military gear. It didn’t take much to figure out that they were brothers; same smirk, same stance, same eyes. Even if Santi hadn’t pointed it out, you would have figured as much. You were naturally deductive - came with the job. After the brothers, there was Frankie. He had dark eyes and hair, the latter of which was covered by his hat. Unlike the other three, he was wearing more casual clothes, just with a tac vest over the top. You kind of got the vibe that he didn’t want to be there - that was...comforting.

‘What’s all this?’ Frankie asked, gesturing to the heavy metal suitcase behind you.

‘Just...stuff. Tools.’ You replied. ‘Things I need to do my job, I guess.’

‘How heavy is it?’

‘Light enough that I was able to get them onto a commercial flight?’ You offered.

‘The plane is already at max weight.’ He replied, brown eyes flickering up to meet yours.

‘God, give ‘em a break, Fish!’ Santi slapped him on the shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Remember last time you said it would be fine-’

‘- hey.’ He cut him off with a harsh look. ‘We don’t talk about that.’

‘So I can bring them?’ You raised your eyebrows. ‘Because I can’t do whatever it is you need to do unless I have them.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be fine.’ Santiago gave you a comforting smile. ‘Let’s head to the jet and we’ll talk about the job.’

Swinging your duffle bag back over your shoulder, you picked up your suitcase and began to follow the guys further up the hill. There wasn’t anybody else around -- just sand, sun and rusting old jets. There was one in particular that they seemed to be headed towards. It was only mildly less eroded than the damaged ones around you, but the engines were running and the cargo doors were open. Santiago took your bag from your hands as you approached it, tossing it in with the other luggage.

‘Do not throw that one, Garcia!’ You demanded, flinching slightly as he took your suitcase.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He shot back.

‘Sure thing.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘You brought a medkit right?’

‘No. Why?’

‘There’s one in my duffle bag.’ You replied. ‘Side pocket. Can you grab it?’

‘We don’t need one, we’ll be fine-’

‘- Santiago Garcia, do you want me to report back to my brother that you took his baby sibling on a jungle-wide expedition without the correct medical supplies?’ You challenged.

Santi swallowed, mind briefly flashing back to the time he’d almost been decked by said brother for letting you walk home alone. ‘Fine.’

Your triumphant smile only lasted a split second; as soon as your eyes fell on the plane, you realised you still had to get on it. Fuck.

The engines seemed to be working fine, but it was just...old. And eroding. And making a funny sound. You were by no means an engineer, but even just binging a few episodes of Air Crash Investigations made you feel qualified enough to know that this was not where it was at in terms of air safety. You could have taken it up with Frankie, but he didn’t seem entirely approachable.

You did trust Santi, however - though sometimes that seemed a little against your better judgement. Every crazy story that your brother had relayed back to you from their time in the military involved him making questionable decisions. Hopefully, opting to fly this hunk of metal wouldn’t be one of them. Here’s to hoping it was aerodynamic.

‘Are you getting in or…’ Frankie peered down at you from the stairs, eyebrows raised.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘This thing is safe, right?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘What is it to me?’ You snorted. ‘Just, y’know, that I’m about to fly a few hundred thousand feet in the air and if it falls out of the sky I’ll die.’

‘I know what I’m doing.’ Frankie shut the door behind you as you climbed aboard, twisting the handle shut. ‘I’ve been flying for years.’

‘I’m not saying it’s you.’ You brushed past him, shoulders bumping as you did. ‘Captain fucking Sully couldn’t fly this thing.’

‘The guy from Monster’s Inc?’

‘No, the guy who landed the plane on the Hudson? They made a movie about it, with Tom Hanks-’

‘- you should sit down now.’ Frankie turned away from you. ‘We’re about to take off.’

Your mouth fell open in slight disbelief. What an asshole.

Santi called your name, signalling for you to sit with him in the cockpit. The seats on the plane hardly looked comfortable, and your brain was mentally working out if it was safer to sit over the wing in a crash, or by the tail. You’d definitely seen it in a documentary once, but you couldn’t remember exactly what they said. Perhaps the best option was to just be less dramatic.

Taking a seat between Frankie and Santi, you pulled your seatbelt on and shuffled awkwardly. This was fine. Absolutely fine. Frankie was a trained pilot (and a dickhead, but that didn’t take away from his flying skills) and you were going to be fine. Fiiiiine. Maybe if you said it once more, you’d believe yourself. You were going to be fine. Yeah, there we go.

A few deep breaths and you were certain. Or, at least you’d convinced yourself to be certain.

‘So.’ Your eyes momentarily flicked over to where Frankie was adjusting some controls. ‘What exactly am I doing here?’

‘A few months ago, the boys and I were involved in the shoot-out.’ Santi began. ‘Pretty standard for the type of operation we were on.’

‘Right. Standard office work.’ You muttered. ‘Do go on.’

‘We thought everyone who had witnessed it had been recorded.’ He continued. ‘And everyone who we spoke to verified that it was a justified shootout. No dirty work, no ulterior motive. All valid, from a legal perspective.’

You thinned your eyes. ‘I don’t think I like where this is going.’

‘We ID’d all the bodies at the time.’ He said. ‘Including a Ricky Martinez. Except now, a guy claiming to also be Ricky Martinez has come forward, claiming that his version of events is a little different. Like, different enough to incriminate us.’

‘He’s lying, right? You guys were the good ones?’ You urged. Santiago’s silence was anything but comforting. ‘Right?’

‘Morals are all a matter of perspective.’ He replied. ‘Our labs ID’d Martinez’ body twice but we need a third party opinion before we can completely dispel the guy pretending to be him.’

‘Guess that’s where I come in?’ You asked, leaning further back into the seat as the jet began to move.

‘Exactamente.’ Santi nodded.

That didn’t sound too bad. Between excavating the grave, running tests and returning the body, it would take a few days tops. You could manage that.

The jet began to pick up speed, making its ascent towards the runway. Frankie did look like he knew what he was doing -- heck, the man looked bored, even. He barely even had to look at the dash controls as it moved forward, hands moving freely and easily to manoeuvre the plane down the runway.

‘What are you staring at?’ Frankie glanced over at you.

‘N-nothing.’ You replied. ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on the road-’

‘- that’s a runway.’ He cut you off.

‘Whatever.’

You were thrown backwards in your chair from the momentum of the take off. The plane angled upwards as it went up in the air, tilting sideways as it balanced out. You felt your stomach drop as the ground disappeared from beneath you, the push of the engines pulling you up higher into the sky. There was a clunk, signalling that the landing gear had retracted.

Well, the plane had fulfilled its first purpose: taking off. That was a good sign.

‘So,’ Benny peered over at you. ‘What’s your callsign gonna be?’

‘My name, presumably.’ You quirked a brow at him.

‘We have Ironhead, Catfish and Pope.’ He continued. ‘But Will and I were talking, and we thought Barbie was gonna fit well.’

‘Oh, really?’ You sniffed. ‘And why might that be?’

‘Because you’re young, and pretty hot-’

‘- so your call sign is Benny, right?’ You cut him off. ‘Short for Benjamin? That’s really clever. Did you come up with it yourself?’

‘Maybe Eye Candy will be beter-’

Benny was cut off when you reached across, leaning over Santi to smack him in the chest with your balled up fist. All four of them jumped in surprise at your action - clearly, you weren’t somebody to be fucked with. You hadn’t worked your ass for years to get your degree to get discredited like that.

‘Make a comment like that again and I’ll drop kick your ass out of this plane.’ You jabbed your finger towards him.

Benny thinned his eyes at you. ‘Frankie wouldn’t let you do that. Right, Cat?’

‘You heard ‘em.’ Frankie’s eyes didn’t move from the clouds ahead.

To give credit where credit was due, Frankie was good at landing planes.

Specifically, he was good at landing planes in places where planes should not have been landed. Not that he’d had much of a choice when the engines gave in half way through the journey, a couple hundred miles over the thick Colombian jungle.

In short, you’d been right the entire time. The damn thing wasn’t safe. Of course, you weren’t going to say I told you so right then, since it felt like a little bit of a sensitive subject.

Now, the five of you were standing next to a pile of what-used-to-be-a-plane, defeat plastered over every one of your individual faces. You were lucky to all have made it out okay - just about. Santiago had taken a hit to the head, Benny had bitten his tongue pretty hard when you’d collided with the ground (fitting) and Frankie had split his head open. You and Will were the only ones who hadn’t sustained any injuries. He had proven to be much more tolerable than his brother.

‘Okay, we just gotta…’ you looked around, eyes taking in the debris around you. ‘We just gotta stay calm-’

‘- stay calm?’ Frankie cut you off. ‘You’re the reason the fucking thing went down! If you hadn’t taken all that extra weight-’

‘- do you ever shut up, Morales?’ You snapped. ‘And I’m no genius but I don’t think the engines catching fire was anything to do with me bringing an extra bag onto the plane!’

‘I’m the pilot.’ He reminded you. ‘I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Maybe it was the weight of your ego that made it go down.’ You chided.

‘Hey - Patrick, Spongebob!’ Will finally yelled. Both your heads snapped in his direction, eyes wide. ‘Can you keep it in your pants for two minutes so we can work out how to make it through the night?’

‘Right, sorry.’ You nodded.

You glanced around the crash site, brain calculating for a minute as you took in what little was left. The plan had landed on its belly and skidded for a few hundred metres; consequently, most of the luggage had come out on the way. That left you with the one remaining bag, the medkit you’d scared Santi into bringing and the strewn camping kit that had been ditched in the back of the fuselage.

Pulling your phone out your pocket, you sighed when you realised that you had no signal. What had you expected? Four bars in the middle of the jungle? Probably not realistic. You did, however, have a compass app. That was something. You thought for a moment, glancing between the app and the sun’s position in the sky. It was splintering through the trees, washing heat over you like a bucket of cold water. There was a small stream a few metres away, which was a source of water at least.

‘It’s just gone four, maybe five in the afternoon.’ You announced. ‘So we have about three hours till the sun starts to set. The water in the stream runs that way so if we follow it, we’ll find the source. People are more likely to set up civilization around a source of water.’

All four of them looked at you like kids who had lost their parents in Walmart. Were they really ex-military?

‘So, what?’ Benny frowned. ‘We...set up a new civilisation?’

‘Oh my days.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘I am spoon-feeding this to you! It means that there will be a town with people.’

‘That’s smart.’ Santi nodded.

‘But before we do that, we gotta sort this out. Will, d’you know how to check for concussion?’ You asked, to which he nodded. ‘Okay, you check Santi and I’ll clean up Frankie’s head. Then we gotta gather those camping supplies and head east. Best case scenario, we find a town before sundown. Worst case scenario, we camp out for the night.’

‘Who put you in charge?’ Frankie asked.

‘Me.’ You replied.

Taking the medkit from Santi’s hands, you quietly thanked him and led Frankie over to some rocks. He didn’t seem all that pleased when you forced him to sit on one - and he was even less pleased when you pulled his hat off. It revealed a tangle of dark curls, some of which you had to push back to get to the mark on his head. Some may have debated the importance of mentioning such a detail, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was.

You knelt down in front of him, pulling the supplies out of the little medical kit. There weren't many, but there was enough to give him something temporary till you got to a proper hospital. If you got a proper hospital.

‘It’s not too deep.’ You observed, running your thumb over the creases of his forehead. ‘Just a couple stitches at worst.’

‘Don’t you normally stitch up bodies?’ Frankie asked. His brown eyes were glued to the floor, following the outlines of the boot-prints that you’d left.

‘Yeah, it’s the same kinda principle though.’ You laughed slightly. ‘Despite your attitude, I’m not gonna give you Y-incision stitches.’

‘Thanks.’

‘At least not in a place people can see them.’

Frankie snorted, but it translated to a hiss of pain as you dabbed an alcohol wipe at his forehead. Despite everything, you had a slight admiration for him. He’d managed to land the plane safely as the situation allowed and despite a few minor injuries, things could have been much worse. You didn’t quite feel like vocalising that to him when you were still stranded in the middle of the jungle, but if you ever got out? You might get Santi to pass the message on.

‘D’ you think it’ll scar?’ Frankie quietly asked.

‘Maybe.’ You admitted. ‘Just take a deep breath.’

‘Where did you even learn to do this stuff?’ He asked, letting out another small grunt of discomfort. ‘The stitches and the compass shit.’

You shrugged. ‘I’ve been around the block a few times. You kinda learn to be prepared.’

‘Really? As a morgue worker?’

‘Not a morgue worker.’ You grumbled. ‘Then again, I am stabbing a needle through your skin so I suppose I’ll allow the discrepancy.’

‘What is it you do then?’

‘I’m a forensic archaeologist.’ You explained. ‘So it’s my job to retrospectively work out how people died, whether it be because their body was found a long time after they died or because they had to be exhumed from their original resting place.’

Gently pulling the needle back from Frankie’s forehead, you cut the thread and dabbed it again with an alcohol wipe. You brushed his hair back down and placed his hat back on his head, offering him a smile. For the first time since you’d met him, he returned the gesture.

You dusted off your knees and took a place on the rock beside Frankie, examining your handy work. Considering you’d been in a plane crash not quite an hour ago, it wasn’t too bad. At least if it did scar, it was in a place his hair covered up. And in your defense, scarring wasn’t usually something you had to worry about with your other...patients. They usually went back in the ground not long after you dealt with them.

‘You’ll wanna sit down for a minute.’ You replied. ‘D’you feel dizzy at all? Sick?’

‘I was just in a plane crash.’

‘Me too, funnily enough.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘I s’pose it’s the most interesting job I’ve worked in a while.’

‘Same here.’ Frankie said. ‘I normally work for a flight school, so this is...something else.’

‘It’ll make me grateful when I get back to the office.’ You agreed. ‘Because it has four walls, air conditioner and co-workers who don’t give me ridiculous nicknames.’

‘Right.’ He snorted. ‘Benny can be...Benny. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.’

‘Benny wasn’t the asshole.’ You quipped, nudging him with your elbow.

At least Frankie had proven now that he could talk to you without being insufferable. You couldn’t work out if you’d warmed to him or if he’d warmed to you, but doing somebody’s stitches was unarguably one hell of an icebreaker. He was just a little closed off; quiet and reserved, you figured. You didn’t know what him and the Delta guys had been through, but Santi had mentioned a few things in passing that pointed to a heavy past. That was something you could relate to - your job was no walk in the park either

‘It’s not...personal.’ Frankie glanced off into the distance.

Will had managed to salvage the remaining bag from the jet, meaning that Santiago could use it as a seat. Benny was sitting with them, talking amongst themselves. You would have to move soon, in order to find a suitable place to camp before sundown, but taking a minute to recover from the last hour was also important. You’d barely stopped to sit down since the plane had gone down, and now you had, the shock had hit you. Your suspicions about safety had actually been correct. Not that it mattered now, but at least you had a plan to get everyone back to civilization as soon as possible.

‘So you being an ice cold bitch isn’t to do with me? That’s a relief.’ You joked. Frankie smiled in response; his first genuine one since you’d met.

‘The witness that you were going to ID was from the last job we all worked together.’ He explained ‘It went bad. Really bad.’

‘From what Santi said, it sure did sound like it.’ You replied.

‘I hadn’t seen anything as bad as we did then since I was stationed out in the war zones.’ He continued. ‘So being back here, and being with the guys, has just put me on edge. I’m sorry if I was an asshole.’

‘You don’t have to say sorry.’ You shook your head. ‘I mean...actually, yeah, you were an asshole but I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘Forensic archeology is no walk in the park either.’ You replied. ‘It’s my job to work out how people have died. Most of my work is on crime scenes or in war zones so I’ve seen some...dark stuff.’

‘It sticks with you.’ Frankie quietly murmured.

‘Yeah, it does.’ You said. ‘I know you might not think it on the surface, because it’s the usual sort of job that leaves stuff weighing on your shoulders-’

‘- doesn’t matter.’ He cut you off. ‘Trauma is trauma. Regardless of how you got it or where it came from, it’s valid.’

You gave him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

---

Later that night -- and after a few hours of walking -- you and the guys had settled down into a makeshift campsite. It was just at the edge of a clearing, not too far from what looked to be a small town glinting in the distance. You did offer to keep going, but between the injuries the group had sustained, it was easier to stop for the night. You had enough of a combined skillset to find some fruit growing to snack on and to start a fire.

Santiago, Will and Benny had long passed out. It wasn’t until after they had done so that you realised there was absolutely no room left in the tent. It was only built for two people, let alone five. Where that left you in terms of sleeping arrangements, you didn’t know, but the chances of even getting to rest felt low. Your brain was on full overdrive, tired eyes darting constantly around the distance. How safe was this place? You’d managed to convince yourself that the plane was secure, and that had gone down like...well, like the fucking plane.

You were sitting on a log, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. It was just something to keep your brain occupied as you fought off the tiredness. The jet-lag from your flight to Colombia had hit in full force and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed -- the bed that wasn’t there.

‘So, are you keeping a look-out?’

You jumped at the sound of Frankie’s voice, twisting around to face him. ‘Something like that.’

‘I can take over if you want.’ He offered. ‘You should get some rest. You’ve saved our asses like three times today.’

‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fit into that tent.’ You replied. ‘I can hear them snoring from here.’

‘Is it worse than the alternative of me keeping you company?’ He softly smiled, taking a seat beside you. ‘I’ll promise not to be an asshole anymore.’

‘We spoke about this.’ You reminded him. ‘I get it. It’s okay.’

‘I still feel bad.’ He sighed. ‘Especially after you stitched me up and led us through the jungle. We woulda eaten something poisonous and died if you hadn’t stopped Benny going near those mushrooms.’

You chuckled. ‘Don’t feel bad, okay? You’ve had bad experiences before and it’s natural to be anxious.’

‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-’

‘- Frankie!’ You cut him off with a groan. ‘I’m about to be an asshole if you don’t stop saying sorry.’

‘So we’re good?’

‘We’re good.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘Santiago, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that he would come for our kneecaps if we left you alone in the dark.’ Frankie admitted. ‘I think he likes you.’

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘I think you have the wrong idea. Santi is only so protective of me because he’s one of my brother’s best friends, and I guess by extension, that kind of makes him my brother too. They go right back to high school, and then they did the academy together.’

‘That’s a long time.’ Frankie nodded. ‘So you and Santi, that’s...nothing, right?’

‘Absolutely not.’ You snorted derivatively. ‘And if it was, my brother would probably end him.’

‘So,’ He took a stick from the floor, joining in with random doodles you were carving into the ground. ‘Be honest: if these stitches scar, d’you think I’ll look rugged and handsome?’

You peered over at him, eyes creasing as your smile grew wider. ‘Sure. Why not?’

‘Ouch.’ He dramatically grabbed his heart, shaking his head. ‘The correct answer was no Frankie, you already look rugged and handsome.’

‘Okay, it would make you look more rugged and handsome.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ He grinned triumphantly. ‘When was the last time you stitched up a living, breathing human?’

‘College, I think.’ You replied. ‘My roommate got into a fight and didn’t have insurance, so I did some makeshift stitches with a cheap sewing kit we found at a 24/7 corner shop.’

‘We’ve all done it.’ He laughed. ‘I’m glad the stitches you gave me were actual, professional ones...right?’

‘Obviously!’ You exclaimed. ‘You’ll probably want to get them redone when we get back to...y’know, civilisation.’

‘Naturally.’ He nodded. ‘I appreciate you stitching me up. The others would not have been able to do that if it had been just us.’

You shrugged. ‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘What if - and feel free to blatantly reject me for my earlier actions - I took you out for a drink when we got back? Y’know, if we ever get back to civilisation.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ You smiled.

Normally, Frankie wouldn’t have been that bold -- and you would have absolutely rejected someone who had made such a terrible first impression. But, said impression had changed. He’d been an asshole but you could see why; you could reason with it, even. God knew that you also had a tendency to become withdrawn and irritable when you were retracting back to the darker corners of your mind. Bad days on the job were hard to shake. They stuck with you for a long time.

The conversation continued, though you couldn’t recall exactly what it was about. Nothing and everything. Growing up and going to college - or for Frankie, the military. You compared stories of Santiago; Frankie’s were better, but yours were pretty good. He told you about how he’d got his piloting license back, and you in return offered a tale of the time that your brother had gotten a DUI.

Between the warmth of Frankie beside you and the crackling fire in front of you, it became harder and harder to fight off your exhaustion. You would have been tired enough if you were from this timezone, but your body clock was hours out of whack. With your eyelids getting heavier and the dark sky above you, it wasn’t long before you’d flopped into the pilot’s side with defeat.

‘’M sorry.’ You murmured.

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.’ Frankie replied. He moved his arm around your shoulders to support your weight from falling off the log - also to give a sign that he was more than okay with it.

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. Now that his cold facade had slipped away, you could admire him a little bit more. Warm chocolate eyes, a strong jawline, and a face that just felt kind, even despite initial impressions. The warm glow of the fire illuminated his face with a soft hue, making the lighter tones of his eyes a little more visible.

You were both still lingering from the adrenaline of the plane crash, hearts pounding in your chests and brains wrestling with the idea that you’d both made it out with minor injuries. Was that what had made you bold? The sudden reminder of your mortality? Because you never would have kissed him if it had been a normal night.

He met you halfway, lips gently capturing yours in a soft kiss. They were a little chapped from the humidity of the jungle air, but intoxicating and enchanting all the same. He tasted very, very faintly of tobacco and a little bit of mint -- had the bastard had chewing gum this whole time? Not that it was relevant. Not that anything else in the world was relevant. Not when Frankie Morales was kissing you.

Neither of you said anything after; he simply pulled you into his chest, resting his head on top of yours. Between the mental exhaustion and emotional ping-pong game that you were partaking in, you wanted to sleep.

And sleep, you did; tangled together on the dirt of the jungle floor, not a worry in the world.

---

Time passed.

It passed quickly and slowly all at once.

Once you’d found a little town and got on a coach to Medellin, you did what you came to do: identified the body, cleared their names and closed the case. Your duties at your actual job called you back home and less than a day later, you were on a plane home.

After that, everything was a blur. You tried to keep in contact with everyone, but life was demanding as ever. Thanks to a promotion at work, you were being kept busy 24/7. Santiago finally retired from active duty and moved back to your hometown, near to his parents and to the guys. Even with the group chat he’d made - affectionately titled Plane Pals - it was hard to constantly keep up with everyone.

You and Frankie had texted for a while, but it sort of faded out. Whenever you were able to make it back home to see him and everyone else, he was busy. You’d both tried to make plans a few times but they’d never come to fruition. You still texted each other happy birthday every year, but that was it. Like that night in the jungle, he quickly became a thing of the past. A distant memory that sometimes felt like a dream.

It made a good dinner table story, especially for first dates. You told it on many actually, actually -- only one ever went well. So well, in fact, that you’d ended up in a four-year-relationship. A marine biologist called Simon; not boring, but not necessarily exciting either. He was nice...enough. Nice enough that you didn’t find a reason to leave.

Looking back, you probably had a million reasons to leave. He was an asshole, for one. The last time he’d treated you right had been your first anniversary - and for some reason, you’d stuck around to celebrate your second and third and fourth. Everyone around you was settling down, and you felt that pressure too.

Even Santiago fucking Garcia, the biggest flirt and bachelor you knew, was getting married. You’d RSVP’d a plus one - Simon, obviously - but the week before you were due to fly home for the wedding, things had finally reached a bitter end. You weren’t sad about him; more sad that you’d wasted four years of your life on the Walmart equivalent to Ned Flanders.

On the brightside, your brother’s respective relationship had also gone through a shitty demise, meaning you could move your seats at the reception next to one another. Like Santiago, he had also retired from the military and was living his best life - even though it had taken six months for him to start speaking to his friend again. He hadn’t taken well to the idea of Santiago taking you on a job that left you in the middle of the jungle.

‘People are gonna ask where Simon is, aren’t they?’ You muttered.

‘Cheer up.’ Your brother nudged you. ‘I know what’ll help - let’s make a bet.’

‘What?’ You groaned.

You were standing outside the church, waiting to be called inside. You’d waved at Benny and Will as they came in. The latter had kids of his own now, but Benny was focusing on his boxing career. He hadn’t called you Barbie again though, so that was something.

‘I bet you twenty bucks that Santiago is divorced by the end of the year.’ Your brother grinned.

‘No! That’s horrible.’ You slapped his arm.

‘Whatever. That’s $20 you’re missing out on.’

‘I hate that we’re related.’

‘Me too.’

‘Shut up!’

‘You said it first!’

The two of you were cut off by someone clearing their throats.

You almost did a double take when you saw Frankie Morales stood in front of you. He didn’t look that different to his six-year-old Whatsapp profile picture; he wasn’t wearing his hat, instead wearing his hair pushed back, and rather than his old tac vest, he had a suit and tie on. You had a sort of vision of him in your head from that night, but it didn’t do him justice. He was even better in person.

‘Catfish!’ Your brother jeered. ‘Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!’

‘Says you!’ Frankie gave him a slap on the back. His eyes then fell to you, and his demeanour changed a little. ‘Hey.’

‘Frankie fucking Morales.’ You murmured. ‘How’re you?’

‘Thriving.’ He replied. ‘You?’

‘Also thriving.’ You smiled.

‘I was sorry to hear about the divorce, man.’ Your brother, as clueless as ever, didn’t sense the sudden onset of tension.

‘Divorce?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘Is that really something you should bring up-’

‘- you brought up your break up at dinner last week-’

‘- only because you brought up yours first-’

‘- guys!’ Frankie cut you off. ‘It’s fine, really. I appreciate you looking out for me but it was a while ago now. Besides, I’ve got Leya. She takes up all my time.’

‘Leya?’ your eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that your girl-’

You were interrupted by a bell ringing, signalling that it was time for the guests to enter the church. Did the universe hate you? What kind of fucking dreadful timing was that?

‘I’ll see you guys at the reception, right?’ Frankie asked.

‘Sure thing, dude.’ Your brother waved him off.

The pilot turned on his heel, giving you a smile as he headed for the church. He was the best man after all, and his presence probably was needed.

‘You asshole!’ You have his shoulder another whack. ‘I was talking to him!’

‘Jesus, calm down! And why do you hit so hard?’ He huffed. ‘What’s so important?’

‘Who’s Leya?’

‘I dunno! Do I look like Gossip Girl?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re mean.’ He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you towards the church entrance. ‘And mum made me promise to make sure you wouldn’t play Doodle Jump during the vows.’

‘That was one time!’ You snapped.

Thankfully, the actual ceremony passed quicker than you thought. Santiago’s new wife was beautiful -- you hadn’t met Yovanna before, but both her and Santi had greeted you with a bright smile as you entered the reception. It was in a large hotel room, decorated with strings of fairy lights and a large dance floor. A lot of thought had clearly got into it.

It made you a little sad to think about. How many weddings had you been to in the last five years? How many times had people looked at you and your former boyfriend and said you’ll be next. You weren’t even sad about him. If anything, you were mad that you’d let yourself think about marrying him. You could do better. You were going to do better.

‘Is that girl over there eying me up?’ Your brother’s voice pulled you back to reality. ‘I swear she’s been giving me heart eyes since they brought dessert out.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one in the cute dress! Brown hair, dark eyes-’

‘- that’s Santi’s cousin.’ You rolled your eyes.

‘And?’

‘Santi’s cousin who is a lesbian?’ You tried to suppress a laugh. ‘Who has been with her wife for 11 years and has three children?’

He groaned. ‘Why must you find such joy in my pain?’

‘It’s what siblings are for.’ You grinned. ‘I’m gonna get a drink. D’you want anything?’

He only let out another groan in response - you took that as a no, simply giving him a pat on the head as you stood up.

You’d tried to ask around with a few mutual friends if they knew who Leya was -- either they hadn’t seen Frankie in a while, or they pushed to know why you were asking. You couldn’t exactly play that one as suave. Nobody took a casual interest in the personal life of somebody they barely knew -- even though you did know Frankie. Quite well, actually. He’d practically recounted his entire life story to you that night. Told you things that not even Santi knew.

‘What can I get for you?’ The bartender asked.

‘Uhhh…’ you glanced up at the menu. ‘Is it an open bar?’

‘If I had enough money for every time someone asked me that tonight, I’d be able to pay for all the drinks.’ She shot back. ‘So, no.’

‘Jeez.’ You muttered. ‘How much for a double rum?’

‘Fifteen bucks.’

‘Fifteen?!’ You spluttered. ‘How much is tap water?’

‘Y’know, I still owe you a drink.’

Like earlier, Frankie had suddenly appeared unannounced. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw him leaning against the bar beside you, a goofy smile plastered across his face and his undone tie wrapped around his left hand. Your eyes flickered up to his forehead, examining it for a minute.

‘So the stitches didn’t scar?’ You asked.

He pulled back his hair, shaking his head. ‘Nope.’

‘You lucky duck.’ You quipped. ‘So. About that drink?’

‘This shit is insanely overpriced.’ Frankie said. ‘I can steal us a bottle of wine if you’re willing to hide and drink it?

You glanced over at your brother, who was now crying to one of Santiago’s great aunts, piling cake into his mouth.

‘Yeah. I’m down for that.’

Five minutes later, you and Frankie were out in the gardens of the hotel. It had been raining all day, but there was an undercover patio not too far from the main reception; the walls were made out of white wood, with red roses trailing up the side. The fairly lights tangled beside them illuminated the place in a gentle glow, blue evening sky providing a beautiful contrast. Even though the showers had stopped, you could still smell the rain in the fresh evening air.

‘Wine?’ Frankie led you to a seat by the edge of the patio. ‘I stole it from the head table so it's the expensive shit.’

He tore the cork off, handing you the bottle. Neither of you had brought glasses, but you didn’t mind drinking from the same bottle. You’d kissed already - what was the point in formalities?

‘I hate it to break it to you.’ You paused to wipe your mouth, recovering from the bitter taste. ‘But that’s champagne.’

‘Still alcohol, right?’ He took it from your hands, taking a swig. ‘And it’s free!’

‘You’re right.’ You chuckled. ‘So...I believe we have four years worth of catching up to do.’

‘D’you wanna go first?’ Frankie offered. ‘I heard you got a promotion.’

‘I did, yeah.’ You grinned. ‘It’s a thousand times more work but I get more control over what jobs I take, so that’s good.’

‘Anyone special in your life?’ He asked.

‘Cut the shit, Frankie.’ You groaned. ‘I know that Santi updates you on every second of my life as it happens.’

‘You got me there. He mentioned a...Steven?’

‘A Simon.’ You corrected. ‘But Dickhead or Asshole works just as well.’

‘Damn, I’m sorry.’ Frankie gave your leg a light squeeze. ‘What happened?’

‘He didn’t deserve me and I stayed with him too long.’ You shrugged. ‘I didn’t think I had a reason to leave.’

‘Not having a reason to leave isn’t a reason to stay.’ He murmured.

You didn’t know whether to bring up the D-Word. D-i-v-o-r-c-e. He hadn’t seemed that phase when your sibling had so eloquently and gently brought it up earlier, but you knew Frankie was good at putting on a front. It was why you’d clashed when you first met.

‘Am I allowed to ask?’ You quietly said.

‘It’s nothing bad.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean it is bad, terrible actually, but it was two years ago now. We only got married because she got pregnant and then left the minute our daughter was born.’

‘Leya.’ You didn’t mean to say the name out loud, but it made sense now. ‘Leya is your daughter.’

‘Yeah.’ Frankie warmly smiled. ‘I hate what happened but I’d do it all over again ten times if it meant having her in my life.’

He spent the next few minutes telling you about her. She was named Leya after a certain space princess, though Frankie had changed the spelling to make it less obvious (to which you had argued it was still quite obvious, but a cool name nonetheless). She was currently three years old, often got confused between Spanish and English words, and enjoyed Power Rangers. All in all, she sounded like a great kid. Above all, it was obvious how much she meant to Frankie. His whole face lit up when he spoke about her. Her mum was entirely out the picture, meaning he was doing the whole thing by himself.

‘She sounds amazing.’ You beamed, peering down at the picture on his phone. ‘She looks so much like you.’

‘Thank God.’ Frankie murmured. ‘I dunno if it being a dad has made me more introspective, but I think about that night a lot.’

‘Me too.’ You replied. ‘Not the thing about being a dad. The other part.’

He laughed. ‘I got that.’

‘What do you think about?’

‘You, mostly.’ He admitted. ‘The fact I was an asshole. The fact you basically saved us all. The fact I never got to take you out for that drink.’

You took a swig of champagne, poking his arm. ‘We’re doing it now!’

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I just...I know it was only one night but we might not have been around to tell the story if you hadn't been there.’

‘You were the one who landed the plane safely.’

‘Which wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t do all the stuff after.’ He reminded you. ‘The thing I think about most, though, is that kiss.’

You froze slightly, head slowly turning to look at him. He was peering down at you now, brown eyes intently gazing at you, not unlike they had the first time you’d been in this position. Now, you weren’t both beyond exhausted, or stuck in the middle of the jungle. You were safe and sound, right here with one another.

‘It was a pretty good kiss.’ You edged slightly closer towards him.

‘A very good kiss.’

‘Maybe we should do it-’

Frankie cut you off, meeting your demand before you could even finish it. He was just as you remembered; chapped-but-soft lips with a hint of mint. No tobacco this time. He gently placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you further up towards him. It was like you were both reliving the memory of that night in a dream - something you’d done many times. Your memory of it had faded over time but this? This was vivid and giddy and entirely consuming all at once.

‘You know,’ Frankie pulled back for a moment, keeping his hand on the back of your neck and forehead pressed to yours. ‘I asked Santi about you a few years ago, pretty much the minute I realised I was ready to move on from...her.’

‘You did?’ You murmured.

‘That’s when he said you’d been seeing Simon for a few weeks.’ He admitted. ‘I was gutted. Kept wishing I’d got there first.’

‘I wish you had got to me first.’ You lightly chuckled. ‘It would have saved me a lot of pain.’

‘If I were to ask out now, what would you say?’

‘Fuck yes, obviously.’

‘Good.’ He pressed a brief peck to your lips. ‘I admire the enthusiasm.’

That night - well, actually it had probably been the night in Colombia, depending on who you asked - marked the start of a fresh start for you both. What had initially started out as an attempt to seek solace in one another during a difficult time had led you to something more: something whole, something fulfilling.

If someone had told you the first time you’d met Frankie Morales that the unfriendly pilot was going to become the best thing that ever happened to you, you probably would have slapped them. Or laughed, or cried, or all three. That night you met, you thought the emotions you were feeling were from the plane crash -- adrenaline and warmth and panic.

As it would turn out, it was simply the feeling of knowing -- knowing that Frankie Morales was it.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales angst #triple frontier imagines #pedro pascal character headcanons

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fanficteen · 3 years

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gone (4)

tw: implied/referenced self harm, self-destructive behaviours & tendencies, references to canonical suicidal tendencies

“I need you to drop the illusion.” Carlisle’s hand was cool on your cheek, golden eyes pleading with yours, even as you stiffened. “I know I can’t ask you to trust me, but at least trust my medical degree. I need to make sure they’re not infected.” There was no way out of this, except to set your jaw and let the glamour drop. Carlisle whispered thanks, resisted the urge to say anything further as he cleaned the wounds up your arms, in various states of healing. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t owe him an apology. “You don’t need to be.” A bandage swept up each wrist as he released them, finally meeting your eyes again. “I let you down.” You resisted the urge to comfort him with false assurances that he hadn’t, that it didn’t matter, that he was here now. “I won’t let it happen again.” You wondered if you were naive for starting to believe him.

You came home to a house in chaos, Billy’s sad eyes meeting yours from the middle of Jacob and Rachel’s screaming match, Paul growling at Jacob over Rachel’s shoulder. “HEY!” Your voice cut them both off and the whole pack’s eyes turned to you. “What the hell is going on?” “(Y/N)!” Rachel was on you in a moment, beating her werewolf brother to the punch. “Are you ok? I came by the house but Bella told me you were fine and sent me home.” “I’m fine,” you soothed, grasping her hands. “Just had a few things to sort out.” “So you’re going crawling back to him, huh?” Jacob challenged, surly. “After everything he did?” “We’ll see,” you answered, steadily, determined not to match his anger. “I’m still researching. Even if he keeps this promise, I don’t want to know I have to rely on him.” He grunted some kind of disapproval, but let it go. “The doctor fixed you up?” Billy confirmed, a rough nod at your wrapped wrists, face calm around his storming eyes. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “What?” Jacob’s confused eyes shot to your wrists, the emotions his father hid in his eyes warring for primacy on Jacob’s younger face. “What happened?” You flicked your eyes away from him, only to be caught by Sam’s sorrowful gaze. “Jake–“ “Did he hurt you?!” “No, it’s not like that,” you assured him, frantic. “Jacob,” Sam warned, lowly, but was ignored. “Then what is it like? Who the hell hurt you?!” Sam’s hand landed on his shoulder, trying to soothe the swirling tension. “I DID!” He wilted back into Sam’s grip, eyes wide and tearful, as you buried your face in your hands. “I did.” Billy caught you by the elbow before you could bolt, settling you on his lap in a warm embrace, just as he had done when you were a child, large calloused hands clutching you to him as you sobbed. “It’s time we left,” Sam commented, distantly. “Paul, you too.” Even Rachel’s hotheaded mate didn’t complain at the command, leaving Jacob and Rachel alone to stare at you, aghast, still curled up to your surrogate father’s chest.

Eventually, you unfurled to explain yourself, swiping at the tear tracks sticky on your cheeks as you spoke. Spoke of the pulsing pain of an absent soul bond, of the darker magics you could unlock with only your blood and breath to command it. Of the stinging clarity seeping from open wounds. Jacob’s face hardened into silent stone, and you watched him sink away from you. “I need to go–“ “No!” Hard, dark eyes turned to you. “I can’t be around you–“ “I’ll go.” You stood and grabbed the jacket and handbag you’d discarded by the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.” “Running back to your vampire?” Jacob sneered, ignoring Billy’s firm scolding. You didn’t deign to respond, just stepped out the door and slipped away into the woods. Chilled darkness blanketed around you, heavy on your shoulders, but familiar. The woods breathed a peace that you had missed from your time upriver – no vampires, no humans, no shifters. Just… nature. Unaltered. Footsteps approached behind you, hot-blooded heartbeat fitting the hand that landed on your shoulder, that pulled you into a warm body. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Sam’s voice spoke of sorrow and understanding, of scars too fresh for either of you to be comfortable. You sniffled into his chest. “You can come home with me, or I can take you to your imprint, or–“ “Alice.” Why her name was the first to tumble from your lips, you weren’t sure, but the pixie-like girl swam starlight in your mind’s eye – promises of safety, of honest truth. “I’ll call Alice.” Sam nodded, letting you fumble for your phone. “Alright, we’ll head in that direction while you call her.” His warm arm never left your shoulders as he turned you around, setting off towards the clearing around the Cullens’ home.

You woke the next morning to a cup of steaming tea placed on the bedside table, as Alice took a seat on the bed beside you, offering you a soft smile. Just like the night before, you appreciated the quiet, the lack of questioning – she had opened the door as you murmured your gratitude to Sam, who had given Alice a begrudging nod as he disappeared back into the treeline. You were drawn out of your memory when Alice pulled you close and you let yourself melt into the cool familiarity of her arm draped around you. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” You hummed, closing your hands around your mug as you thought. “I don’t know,” you admitted, eventually. Alice turned her palm over, a wordless invitation, and you placed your hand in hers, letting pain fear anger hurt fear fear love love love burn through the temporary bond. Alice didn’t flinch away, didn’t give any indication that she felt it, her than her fingers intertwining with yours, her other hand combing through your hair. “I just don’t know who I can trust anymore. It’s like… every anchor I had was ripped away and even when the storm clears, it’s not going to carry me back to familiar waters or fix my broken masts.” Your eyes dropped to your bandaged arms. “I’m not even sure they can be fixed. Maybe I’m already a wreck and I’m just waiting for the water to drown me.” “You’re not.” Firm, sure, Alice’s words held every bit of the determination you’d come to know from her. “You’re not broken, you’re not a wreck, and you’re not alone. I know – I know we hurt you, but we’re here now. From now on, we’re here whenever you need us, whatever you need us for. And I know that Billy and even Sam will be too, even if we don’t get along with them. You’re important to both of us, so we’ll make it work.” Protests and disagreements stung on the tip of your tongue, shattered trust and hurt and fear, but Alice’s hands were steady and so was her voice, as she promised she was here. As she promised she wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t realise you’d lost your shields until an artificial kind of calm washed over you, Jasper padding silently into the room. “Be gentle with yourself,” he requested, quietly, dropping at Alice’s side, golden eyes soft and warm, despite his ice-cold skin. You let his calm steady you, before you began to build your walls back up, closing off their powers.

“Thank you.” Alice smiled at your quiet words, Jasper simply inclining his head in quiet acknowledgement. “Bella’s making waffles,” Alice prompted, after you finished composing yourself, jigsaw puzzle pieces falling into place again. “You wanna shower and come down?” “I don’t have any clothes.” Alice paused. Her clothes wouldn’t fit you, but… “You’re welcome to borrow some of Carlisle’s clothes.” Perhaps, the scent of your soulmate would help soothe you, as well, despite his role in the fragile cracks of your heart. “He’s at the hospital at the moment, so you can use his bathroom and get changed in his room, if you’d like. He should be back soon. But if you’re not comfortable with that, I’m sure you can borrow one of the other guys’ clothes, or someone can duck over to–“ “Are you sure that’s okay?” Alice’s eyes softened. “Of course it is. Carlisle won’t mind one bit, so long as you’re safe and happy… or as close as you can be.”

You stepped out of the warm water feeling a little more like a person, and pulled on the first of Carlisle’s shirts that you found, a button up that draped comfortably down to your knees. Once your hair was dry enough not to soak the shirt, you hung up the towel Alice had lent you and headed downstairs towards the quiet chatter in the living room. Edward was draped over Bella’s shoulders as she cooked, Esme watching fondly as Alice and Emmett bantered over who was really Mr Johnson’s favourite, Rosalie rolling her eyes at them from where she leaned into Emmett’s side. Jasper offered you a gentle smile as you entered and you returned it, only to freeze in place as a familiar head of blond hair poked out of the pantry, which had been stocked with some more human-friendly foods since their return and Bella’s regular presence. “I knew we had maple syrup!” he announced, holding the bottle up victoriously. “Great. (Y/N), what do you want on your waffles?” Bella shot the query over her shoulder as she finished plating up the waffles and turned to plop a plate in front of you. Your tongue tumbled over itself before you managed to sputter a response, earning yourself a concerned look from most of the room. “We’ll leave you two to eat,” Esme decided, ushering the vampires out of the kitchen. Apparently, no matter how good your shields were, you still had an expressive face. Bella leaned against the counter across from you, chewing her waffles and examining you thoughtfully. “Do I need to punch Jacob, or someone else?” she asked, eventually, and you smiled, sombrely, though the effect was ruined a little by the mouthful of waffles bulging your cheeks. “I don’t know who I’m most angry at, so I’ll give you a pass on the punching for the moment.” She laughed, and for a moment things were almost normal. Almost. “What are we doing here?” Bella blinked up at your sudden question. “…eating waffles.” “Yeah, but why are we here, eating waffles, with the people who abandoned us? Why can’t I still be angry? I’m still hurting, like every time I see him the wounds reopen but he’s the only one who can stitch them up and I just don’t get it! Why was it so easy for them to leave us, but we can’t ever stay away?” You were crying now, and Bella offered her shoulder before you ruined your waffles, soft circles running along your shoulders. “It wasn’t easy for them to leave us. And it wasn’t easy for any of us to come back. But… this is where we’re meant to be. No matter what happens now, we all belong together. We can heal together.” She pulled back, brushing tears from your perpetually stained cheeks, and offered a soft smile. “I know they fucked up. I know we fucked up. But… we can do better.”

a/n: sorry for the wait y’all, have some platonic bonding

@mylovelyjoon @kyrah-williams @crazycookiecrumbles @mangoberry43 @misselsbells06

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mindclassic · 9 months

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Paraphilic Disorders - The Complexities of Human Desires

In a world that constantly pushes the boundaries of human sexuality, it is crucial to understand the nature of paraphilic disorders. Unveiling the disorders is a task that requires us to delve into the complexities of human desires. It is a matter of examining the fine line between normal and abnormal. Unveiling of paraphilic disorders: a topic that provokes curiosity, discomfort, and an undeniable intrigue. These disorders, rooted in the enigmatic realm of human sexuality, traverse a unique and disorienting spectrum. It is a curious exploration into the recesses of the human mind. The journey is to navigate through the labyrinth of fetishes, kinks, and taboo subjects that stir both fascination and concern. It is important to approach the topic with an open mind, a willingness to challenge conventional norms. It needs a commitment to unravel the intricacies of human sexuality. Society tends to view them through a lens of judgment, dismissing them as deviant predilections. But what if we were to step back, to unravel the hidden threads that connect, to search for common grounds? In this article, we delve into the intricate labyrinth of paraphilic disorders to grasp their complexities. Also, we challenge preconceptions and foster a more nuanced understanding of this enigmatic territory. Brace yourself as we embark on a journey that will both perplex and enlighten us. It unravels the intricacies that lay within the human psyche. 1. Understanding the Disorders Paraphilic disorders have long fascinated and sparked debates. What motivates people to have unconventional sexual desires and fantasies? This question, which lies at the core of the prevalence of paraphilic disorders, has puzzled both clinicians and researchers. Some argue that these desires are innate and unchangeable. The others however believe that they are learned behaviors that can be modified through therapy. The range of paraphilic disorders is wide, including relatively harmless foot fetishes to more controversial practices like exhibitionism or pedophilia. However, it is important to distinguish between fantasies and actions. Not all individuals with paraphilic interests act on their desires. By gaining a deeper understanding of the commonalities and unique expressions of these disorders, society can approach the issue empathetically and promote effective treatments for those seeking help. 2. The Spectrum of Paraphilic Disorders The 'Spectrum of paraphilic disorders' goes beyond conventional sexual behaviors, exploring the complexities of human sexual deviance. It includes a wide range of desires and behaviors that deviate from societal norms, from harmless fetishes to dangerous aberrations. This article section discusses the unique manifestations of paraphilic disorders, examining common grounds and highlighting the often misunderstood nature of these conditions. The sentences are varied in length. The tone is somewhat erratic to reflect the complex and perplexing nature of this subject. By exploring different facets and shades of these disorders, this article aims to foster understanding and empathy, challenging preconceived notions and promoting a more nuanced view of human sexuality. 3. Common Grounds Among Paraphilic Disorders Paraphilic disorders, a unique spectrum of human sexuality, have long been a mysterious and controversial topic. A recent psychological study aimed to shed light on these disorders. From voyeurism to fetishism, they involve a wide range of unconventional sexual interests and behaviors. A common thread among these disorders is the element of fantasy. Whether it's engaging in roleplay or finding arousal from certain objects, individuals with paraphilic disorders often derive satisfaction from the realm of imagination. Additionally, these desires are often considered taboo, causing many to suppress their urges or experience feelings of shame and guilt. However, the study suggests that viewing these desires as part of a multifaceted spectrum rather than labeling them as deviant could lead to more compassionate and effective treatment options. As society becomes more open-minded and accepting, it is crucial to continue exploring the complexities of paraphilic disorders and finding common ground for understanding. 4. Impact on Relationships and Society Paraphilic disorders are often misunderstood and stigmatized in society. This article explores the psychological aspects of these disorders to shed light on this unique spectrum of sexual preferences. From exhibitionism to fetishism, these disorders can profoundly impact relationships and society as a whole. Understanding the underlying common grounds becomes crucial, as the levels of distress associated with these behaviors vary. Are these desires innate or learned? How do they affect individuals and those around them? By unraveling the complexities of paraphilic disorders, we can engage in a more nuanced and empathetic dialogue about human sexuality, fostering a more accepting and inclusive society. 5. Treatment Approaches Paraphilic disorders consist of a range of sexual behaviors that deviate from societal norms. This article aims to explain the treatment options for individuals struggling with these disorders. It explores the complexities of paraphilic disorders, including the different spectrums they exist on and the common factors that connect them. From voyeurism and exhibitionism to fetishism and sadomasochism, these disorders challenge our conventional understanding of sexuality. However, it is important to approach the treatment of the disorders with sensitivity and an understanding of the underlying causes. It is not as simple as trying to suppress or eliminate these desires. It is rather finding ways to manage them in a healthy manner. The article discusses various therapeutic techniques, such as cognitive-behavioral therapy and psychodynamic therapy. These techniques offer hope for individuals dealing with these disorders. Understanding the complexities and treatment approaches for paraphilic disorders can help society better support those affected. 6. Promoting Acceptance and Support Paraphilias have long fascinated and sparked controversy in the field of psychology. These paraphilias encompass a range of atypical sexual interests from voyeurism to sadism. They challenge societal norms and preconceived notions about human sexuality. Unfortunately, individuals on the paraphilia spectrum often face discrimination and ostracization due to the stigma attached to their desires. To overcome this stigma, society must adopt a more empathetic and compassionate approach. There is a need to promote acceptance and support for those with diverse sexual interests. By educating ourselves and creating a non-judgmental environment, we can build a society that prioritizes understanding and inclusivity, providing vital resources for individuals struggling with their sexual identities. Let us embark on a journey towards demolishing the walls of stigma and embracing the diverse tapestry of human sexuality. Summing Up In conclusion, paraphilic disorders continue to be a perplexing phenomenon that challenges our understanding of human sexuality. Society has made strides in accepting diverse sexual orientations. The line between normal and abnormal remains blurred when it comes to paraphilias. The varying lengths of sentences used throughout this article reflect the complexity of this issue. With some ideas requiring more detailed exploration and others lending themselves to quick bursts of information. The erratic nature of the paragraph mirrors the erratic nature of paraphilic disorders themselves, which often defy conventional explanations. It is crucial that we approach this topic with sensitivity and empathy, recognizing that individuals grappling with paraphilias are not necessarily dangerous or deviant, but rather require understanding and support. By fostering open dialogue and conducting further research, we can hope to shed light on the intricacies of paraphilic disorders, ultimately paving the way for a more inclusive and compassionate society. Image by Freepik Read the full article

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writertothemaximum · 4 years

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Pairing: Tobio Kageyama x Reader

Summary: Kageyama gets really pent up and gets super nervous trying to ask you to finger him.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Content: nsfw/smut, Kageyama bottoming, dominant reader, anal fingering, non-gendered reader, extremely fluffy, contains cuddles

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867611

It was lunch on a fine day in the middle of fall and you sat down at your classroom table, ready to eat your meal for the afternoon. Kageyama sat across from you, looking somehow more irritated than usual. It was actually quite challenging to figure out when he was bothered by something or just you know, being himself. Only with Kageyama exposure in high quantities would anyone be able to crack the code that is his resting bitchface. After six months of dating, you were one of the rare few who had grown to understand it.

Simply put, crossed legs, a distinct lack of a milkbox, and a lack of will to eat the bento you oh-so-kindly prepared for him this morning meant something was on his mind.

You unwrapped the cloth covering the lunchbox, firmly opened up the lid, snagged your chopsticks, and picked up a big piece of chicken katsu. Flinging it around in the air like imitating an airplane for a child who didn’t want to eat their vegetables, you brought it to Kageyama’s face. “Tobio, say ‘ahhh’,” you said, your voice almost stern.

He poked around, finally making eye contact. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth, “Ahhh—”

The katsu landed safely on his tongue. He took a second to pull the thing out as you slipped the chopsticks out from his lips and he started to chew.

“How is it?” you asked.

He seemed a little bit more pleasant.

“Good,” he said, nodding.

“Good, good,” you said, nodding back, a proud smile slapped across your face.

There was a little snicker from the seat next to you.

“Baby-baby Kageyama getting fed his lunch like a little baby,” Hinata said, snidely. You know he did it just to piss Kageyama off. It always worked. It wasn’t even ever a good one. At least Tsukishima came up with clever insults.

“Shut up, dumbass!” he snapped back at him, looking back at you patiently for another bite. His irritation was back, though, and he stared at you as if his mind only had the capacity for getting you to feed him another bite. Also volleyball. Probably.

“Hey, Hinata-kun, do you want a bite?” you asked, turning your attention to your right.

Hinata’s eyes lit up.

“Of course!” he said, shooting over to you with his mouth wide open.

The look on Kageyama’s face was one of the most precious things in the entire world. He looked hurt, almost, as if offering someone else the bento he didn’t even want to eat was not only detrimental to his well-being but his entire soul. His whole face dripped down in shock and mortification, as if asking why you would do something so cruel to him.

Taking another piece of katsu, you sprung your chopsticks into the air, whipping them around like an airplane mid-flight, sound effects, and all. The tip of the rounded wood swung by Hinata’s mouth, just as Kageyama’s lips parted, ever so slightly.

You rammed the thing into Kageyama’s mouth.

Chopsticks still poking out of his lips, he stood up and pumped both fists into the air proudly, congratulating his victory.

Hinata’s fist smacked lightly on the top of his head.

“Bakegama, you’re the boyfriend, if you didn’t win I’d be concerned,” he said, almost chuckling.

Kageyama sat back down, taking the chopsticks out of his mouth, accepting a pyrrhic victory. Hinata reached over and grabbed a piece of katsu with his fingers and flicked it into his mouth. Kageyama grabbed the box and held it close to his body.

“Hey! That’s my lunch, you idiot!” he shouted at him.

Hinata pouted, mouth still full of flavorful chicken. “What, I was offered it, anyways.”

You laughed at the duo, the bickering so pointless they might as well been having any other ordinary conversation. It was like this every day, but that also meant there was a mundanity to it all. A wonderful sort of peace to the regularity of things. It was really pleasant, you hoped things would stay like this for a long time.

…

In the evening of that same day, you got a text from Kageyama asking if he could come over. A part of you was tempted to say no to see his reaction, but you said yes, as you weren’t really doing anything. It was past dinner and his night practice, anyways, so your parents wouldn’t get too much into your business. And plus, you still wanted to know what was bothering him.

So that’s how you ended up sitting on your bed, flipping through English vocab flashcards, a boy practically twice your size cradled in your lap. He seemed somehow grumpier than normal, if that were at all possible. He clearly wasn’t studying with you, his focus seemed almost completely centered around frowning and ruminating on, well…something.

He really liked to sit with you holding him like this. He told you it felt really comfortable and warm and he wasn’t really sure why he liked it so much. Whenever he came over, especially if he was tired (especially if he lost a match), he’d sit right there on your lap, snuggling in, getting all warm and cozy. He was the little spoon and he indulged in every second of it.

If that Shiratorizawa guy you met was a ‘guess monster’ Kageyama most certainly was a ‘cuddle monster’.

“It’s distracting.”

“What is?” you asked in response, flicking by the word for ‘arbitrary’.

“That,” he reiterated, not really answering anything.

“Tobio, what is that?” you said, emphasizing the word in the same way he did.

Was the English practice bothering him? You knew he was especially bad in that subject, maybe seeing you look over it made him anxious. You had a test tomorrow so you wanted to make sure you were ready, but it was unlike Kageyama to be petty over something like that. He was usually petty over…dumber things.

Kageyama shuffled in your lap, moving his hand down to his groin, adjusting his underwear. There was a soft pat as the elastic moved back into place. He just tucked an erection in his waistband, right? That’s what that was, right?

You snapped the rubber band around your flashcards and with a groan, chucked them across the room, aiming for your backpack, not quite making it.

You grabbed the boy in your arms and flipped the world around, landing his back firmly against the bed. Pinning him down and grabbing his wrists firmly with your fists, you squinted your eyes, as if to appraise this body of his. Your focus led down his T-shirt and to the hem of his shirt, which you grabbed firmly and dragged up his chest.

Yeah, he was hard, alright. The poor thing was poking out the top of his gym shorts.

“Tobio, what was that?” you said again, words pronounced and sharp.

He looked so overwhelmed like this, it was a good look on him, trying to form words with a stuffed brow and puckered lips.

“I-I uh…” he mumbled out, his head rolling to the side.

You frowned.

“What is it? Come on, there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you said, deciding on a laugh. “Plus, if you’re honest, it’ll help us deal with your little uh, ‘problem’.”

Yeah, whatever it was it was going to be a sex thing. He was still so timid about that kind of stuff, it was really cute. You never pushed him into anything, so he’d make requests every now and then, and it was really funny to see him open up about what he liked. Almost as if you’d hate him for some stupid reason like having natural urges like any other human being would.

He finally mustered up the courage to look you in the eye, his lips puffed out and expression meek and lacking confidence.

“...Can you finger me?”

You blinked a couple times, finally realizing what he had asked.

“You mean like, up your ass?”

He got irritated, easily pushing you back up, detaching himself from being pinned to the bed.

“Yeah! Like up my ass!” He shouted, not really concerned with how his tone of voice sounded. Then, it only came out as mumbles, “It’s not like I’ve been thinking about it for the past week or anything…”

Oh god, he was a giant idiot. Not subtle, Kageyama.

You started chuckling—hard to contain, really.

“Of course I’ll do it. What, did you think I’d laugh at you or something?” you asked.

Kageyama’s face turned sharp red.

“No.”

That was a yes. That was definitely a yes.

Well, you knew by now that Kageyama liked being on the receiving ends of things. A part of you wondered if he’d become a pillow-princess if you spoiled him too much.

“Alright, alright, get back down, let’s get you nice and comfy, shall we?” you said, waving your hands in the air for him to turn around. Reluctantly, he shifted his whole body weight, pulling his knees in and getting on all fours, face firmly against the pillow. A part of you wanted to grab his hair and force his neck up for air, but it wouldn’t be worth it at this point, considering you hadn’t even touched him. You’d get a better reaction if you did it later.

You bent around to the nightstand, fishing around for the stuff you’d need.

“Tobio, do you want me to use a condom, or are just my fingers fine?”

“Just fingers,” you heard, muffled by the pillow. It almost sounded like he was biting it. It was cute to see him preparing himself mentally for this. He seemed really eager and that was endearing.

Nails trimmed? Check. Lube? Check. One Kageyama with a huge ass waving in the air waiting for your fingers to fuck the shit out of him? Check.

Okay, okay, all good to go here.

You pulled yourself back onto the bed and flicked open the bottle’s cap, squirting out a little just to make sure you had enough. Snapping the thing shut again, you set your eyes back on sweet ass.

He was so cute on his hands and knees like this. It gave you a really good view of his calves and thighs, too. After years of jumping, years of running, they really developed into something that could only be described as perfect as a marble statue. When you wrapped your palms around them, you could feel the meat and bone, no trace of fat, each ligament and muscle tissue finely defined. He twitched slightly, muscles tensing as your fingers wrapped around the tissue.

Taking your other hand, you outstretched your index finger and poked hard on his ass, aiming for the spot where his asshole should be. It pushed the fabric into him, rubbing him through thick cloth aimlessly. It wasn’t a direct touch, it wasn’t close. You were just teasing him, suggesting that you were going to stick it up there, that you were really going to put it in him.

Kageyama got so antsy as you ground your finger into his ass. He shifted his hips, rubbing his dick against the waistband, absolutely desperate for some form of friction aside from this half-assed prodding at his shorts.

“Aren’t you gonna uh, like…Do something? Stop poking me….”

Ah, he was really cute when he got desperate, wasn’t he?

You slapped your hands on the sides of his hips and pulled the waistband of the gym shorts and his underwear in a slow motion, riding them gently down. When they got to his knees, you saw his dick spring out, still as hard and irritated as earlier. You arched his leg up in the air to pull the shorts off and flung them across the room, probably to settle near the flashcards on the ground.

There really was a different way asses looked when the guy really worked out. It wasn’t round and bubbly like how one might expect when you describe a great ass, but it retained all the springiness of tightly packed skin. It was clefted in a way, a little angular, a little flat, a little shaped like two rounded squares. It was so easy to wrap your hands around, to let your thumbs sink into the smooth skin, to feel each movement as he adjusted his knees to the pressure of his body weight on the bed.

He was shivering a little bit, as if the stress was lowering his body temperature, as if being nervous made his brain fire out shots of chills trying to understand that this was happening, that this was actually happening, and that he was lying here on your bed like this. You put a hand at the bottom of his tailbone, stabilizing him. You leaned in, using your other hand to gently rub his inner thigh, relaxing him, trailing soft kisses down the line of your thumb as it crossed his smooth skin.

Feeling his breathing slow down and the shaking slow, you leaned back up and grabbed the bottle, squirting a big glob of lube onto your fingers, running down to your palm. You used your other hand to get a firm grip on his ass, spreading one of his cheeks, leaving the small outline of a little hole, all shriveled up tight and twitching ever so slightly. You moved your hand toward him and as the tip of your finger traced the hairs on his asscrack, making him feel the echoes of the chills from before.

You could hear him muttering into the pillow, his face still planted into the thing, his hands clutching it tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping him bound to this world.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it won’t hurt, I promise,” you said, making sure your words were gentle and comforting.

He started to calm again and you let your free hand run down the end of his back, slowly trickling up through the shirt to his spine, the soft tickle hopefully distracting the feeling of your finger up pressing on him.

It almost felt like the world was splitting when you let your first finger glide inside. You let your other hand grip on the middle of his back, supporting him, moving your finger further in, surrounded by heat and a warm grip.

“Mmmmngnh…” you heard him grumble into the pillow. A part of you wanted to see his expressions, but the other part of you knew that it was better like this. After all, it was his first time with anything inside, it was a little bit of a vulnerable position to be in.

“Is it in yet?” you heard from him more clearly, his head tilted to the side. Sweat covered his forehead, the thin strands of his bangs sticking to his skin.

“Hmm, only about halfway,” you said.

“Tch,” he responded with, face planted right back into soft cushion.

You couldn’t stop the soft smile on your lips, knowing that Kageyama was trying to act strong for you. He was trying to show that he could take it, even if it was really sensitive, even if it was embarrassing that he could possibly like something like this, even if he could never admit that it felt good to have a part of you inside him.

You pushed the rest of the finger in, feeling his groaning flush through the bed, humming slightly into the blankets. He took your first finger so well, all the way to the knuckle now. He squeezed a couple times around you, probably trying to get used to the sensation, even if relatively, one finger wasn’t very much.

Planning on thrusting your one finger into him a couple times, you moved your other hand to grab onto his thigh to make sure he wouldn’t thrash about the place. When you first started to pull out, you felt him clench around you, as if he couldn't bear with the thought of you leaving his ass. It was so slippery now, though, your finger accidentally popped out.

Kageyama gave a little groan like he was disappointed.

Holding back a snide comment, you just pushed right back into him, sliding in with little resistance this time. His torso leaned forward with your motion, as if his entire body was jelly against your pushes. After getting into a short rhythm with the one finger, you felt Kageyama start to get used to the sensation, pushing his hips back against you with each push. You were pretty sure you hadn’t found his prostate yet, but he seemed to just enjoy the feeling of having it inside, so that was good enough for you for now.

Gripping his thigh tighter to signal to him you were slowing down your pace, you bent your middle finger and pushed it into him, spreading him further. With the spark of greater tension, every hair on Kageyama’s back began to stand, pressure building inside of him, everything standing on edge. You pushed in and sweet sounds poured back, muffled and hoarse through the thick fabric. You pushed in deep, knuckles straining against the edge of his asshole, fingers pushing downwards, pressing gently against the inside of his belly.

“Haaaaargh,” you heard from him, lifting his head off the pillow for a breathy gasp of air.

You looked down and noticed that his dick had started dripping. It did feel like you were touching something a little harder in there. You poked again, rubbing your two fingers up and down like you were beckoning him to come over to you.

“Hnnnnnnng,” he moaned, this time the pitch riding low as it faded out. You could feel it as the pleasure swept through him like a wave, crashing hoarsely and crudely outside of his body and through his groin.

Yeah, that was definitely his prostate.

“How does that feel?” You asked.

“Goooood…” he mumbled.

You scissored your fingers apart to get a better look at his asshole, now red and twitching, shuddering with the rest of his body, taking in every sensation, every rubbing motion of his insides. His dick just felt so hot and tingly, he wanted to touch it, he wanted to reach down and start jacking himself off as you prodded around inside of him. His hand, torn and calloused from hours of work, finally moved down and he started to touch himself. Even with only a couple of strokes, you could feel him starting to come. That wouldn’t be fun. You hadn’t had your fill yet.

You pulled your fingers out and grabbed him strongly on the shoulder, flipping his entire body around, slamming him onto his back. He faced you now, pretty blue eyes with a confused look, concerned, almost frightened at the look you were giving him. It had been too hot with his face against the pillow, sweat was dripping down his forehead, his hair clinging tightly in bunches to his skin.

With great force, you slammed your hand down on his mouth. Covering his lips, you felt him thrash around, almost trying to get you off him, never for a second earnestly meaning to. He started whining, the vibrations of his throat reverberating through your hand and coming off as garbled garbage.

“You’re being too loud, you need to quiet down.”

You put your other hand by his ass and pushed three fingers in. If it wasn’t for your hand, he would have never been able to contain the moan. You pushed up, seeing his eyes go wide and roll back, feeling everything all the way up his spine into the very fiber of his body. His moans came out gagged, hoarse, and choked, begging for air. His saliva caked your fingers, unable to keep it all in, unable to force his mouth closed, unable to stop the sounds from coming out.

Kageyama started clutching his asshole around your fingers, desperately trying to get any sensation of friction as he could. His fingers were wrapped firmly around your shoulders, holding on for dear life, trying to stabilize himself in any way he could so his mind wouldn’t go crazy, so his mind wouldn’t get consumed by all these feelings going up his ass.

He moved a hand off your shoulder and started to touch himself, this time with less restraint. He seemed so desperate for any kind of attention there, any kind of feeling that would draw him over the edge, any tingling that would tip him into that wonderful feeling.

It wasn’t long before you felt his muscles start to clench. Before everything started to tense up and his mouth to start lolling against your hand, dragging his tongue aimlessly across your fingers. He came, sucking your fingers inside his ass as deep as he could, milking them for that sweet release as far as he could take it.

For a moment, everything seemed still. He started to relax around you and there was a sore tension around your fingers as you pulled them out of him. You took your hand off his mouth and he rolled away from you, covered in sweat and a lovely trail of semen up his shirt.

He really looked like he was going to fall asleep, but he was more just catching his breath.

“So…” you started, still kneeling in front of him. “How was it?”

He almost pouted.

“Could you hold me?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said, smiling.

You rolled onto the bed, trying not to get too much of the stickiness of the lube on your hands on the bed, but realizing that you’d probably have to wash everything anyways. You slipped your arm under his torso, his body weight sinking deeply into the mattress. You wrapped both arms around him tightly, resting your head against his neck, cradling him like a little spoon. He pulled his knees up to his chest, lying comfortably. You relaxed like that for what seemed like minutes, just feeling the body heat on your face slowly dissipate into a graceful warmth.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader smut #kageyama x reader #sub!kageyama #dom!reader #kageyama tobio #w2tmfics

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dailydnp · 3 years

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British YouTuber, presenter, and author Daniel Howell offers a practical yet poignant look into mental health – his own struggles held up as a mirror for anyone else going through the same – in his book You Will Get Through This Night.

Written in conjunction with psychologist Dr Heather Bolton, the book is an amalgamation of Howell’s own experiences and Dr Bolton’s expert perspective combined to create a reading that feels like a personal attack in the best of ways, forcing you confront, embrace and then overcome your perception of your own mental health.

Best described as, “a practical guide to taking control of your mental health for today, tomorrow, and the days after,” You Will Get Through This Night takes readers through Howell’s mental health journey, wrapped in his trademark sense of humour and nuggets of wisdom that urge them forwards in their path to a healthier mindset.

Speaking to 1883, Howell describes what pushed him to write the book, learning to question his normal, how upbringing and culture impacts one’s perception of mental health, the role that a sense of humour plays in getting the conversation around mental health started and more.

Was there a particular moment that solidified your decision to write this book?

I think it was just realizing the power that every single person has to tell their story and break down the wall. Because with mental health, it’s the thing that every single person has a universal experience of. And yet, we all like to go, ‘I’m fine,’ when we’re completely having a meltdown on the inside and it was me opening up, not because I thought it was a nice idea just because I thought I had to open up about what I was going through with my depression, my sexuality. I went through 27 years of terrible mental health, without even realizing that you’re not supposed to be that way. It’s the idea that we all think we are broken, born in a certain way and doomed to feel that way forever, and that’s fundamentally wrong. I thought I’d like to write this book because other people may see themselves in it, notice that they relate to something, and therefore maybe there’s something about themselves that they need to work on. I literally I just wrote the book that I wish I could have read, because for me it was a struggle to even find the resources and the advice I needed.

You’ve mentioned in the book, that you never questioned your symptoms and that you were taken aback when the doctor said you were suffering from depression. But where there moments before that you started questioning this perception of what was normal to you?

I think it became my normal to feel bad all the time, which sounds dramatic but it was me. I thought it was all to do with my choices, age, environment and my job. But mental health is deeper than that, it’s something deeper and it’s something that you can actually have a positive effect on, which is what I wish I knew earlier, and it only happened when I got to a point where I was struggling, so much that I couldn’t even function day-to-day. In my mind, there was either nothing or there’s crazy. I thought you just have to get over your problems or you are totally crazy, which is so ignorant but that’s just not the truth. So, I went to a doctor and he said I think you might have depression and that is a real thing. And there’s lots that you can do about it. It’s about just understanding everything to do with how your thoughts and feelings work, the relationship between your biology and how you interact with the world physically. It was such a slow and painful journey to learn all of that that I thought, I’m just going to put it all in here and the idea is that for someone who picks up this book, they can go right in. I’ll put it up on the shelf and then when I need to read it, I’m going to pick it up and open it again. So, I just wanted to be super practical.

I really liked this quote in the book “breakdown can be breakthroughs”. So, when was the last time you can think of that a breakdown led to a breakthrough for you?

Every other week, like you know, all of us. It’s just human instinct to try and stick through it and ignore the problems especially with work. It’s a great excuse to lie, “ I know I feel bad but I’m really busy.” And it goes like that until things get way too intense. For me, there were moments where I felt I simply cannot keep going in my career or day-to-day life or try to pretend like I’m funny, until I deal with the fact that I’m gay. And though there was this terrible feeling like “have I hit rock bottom?” But the thing with any obstacle is that it stops you from going in the wrong direction and when you are forced to turn around usually it means you’re confronting the truth for the first time. Usually if someone has a breakdown, if you hit that wall in your life, that point where you absolutely can’t keep going until you turn around and something scary is going to be waiting, it means you’re going in the right direction. When you have these moments of confrontation, instead of procrastinating or running away, if you face it then it’s hopefully better days ahead.

Speaking of procrastination, you talk about burnout and the five-minute rule in one section. How do you strike a balance between not procrastinating and getting things done, but also not overworking yourself?

The human concept of work is very strange and it’s just one of those great examples of something that we’ve all brainwashed ourselves to see a certain way, to put value on certain things that are ultimately probably not great and inevitably lead to another dramatic moment of self-destruction and procrastination, which are both associated with so much guilt and shame.But in reality it’s not because I’m lazy that I don’t want to start this thing, it’s probably I’m terrified of starting this thing because I know that it’s important, I don’t want to fail at it. So, think of the five minute rule as ripping the plaster off, because it’s always the fear of starting. That was me, writing this book and feel like I’m not in the mood to do that, but then moment I start then I’d just write for consecutive hours. Again, it’s just snapping out of the mindset that you’re probably on, which goes I’m doing this because it’s important, and I have to do it. You probably don’t have to do it, you’re probably just running from something else. So, whether you are procrastinating, you think you’re lazy, or you’re telling yourself that you have to put up all of your issues to deal with whatever you’re busy with, you need to flip it around and look at it, not just from in healthier way but in more honest way. I’m not going to cripple myself with guilt and shame about procrastination but I’m not going to over work myself.

You’ve also written about how one of the worst things you can say to someone going through depression is to get over it. What’s the hardest of trying to get people to understand that it isn’t something you can get over?

I think you cannot underestimate how profoundly ignorant most of the world still is about mental health and that’s not people’s fault. It’s just that science, education and culture has just not been doing the right thing even if science recently has come a long way. We’ve got hundreds of years of stigma that come from. Breaking down the barriers, by being honest, with someone one-to-one is a great way to do that. And it just telling them “I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine. I just want to tell you that, I feel that way.” And for a lot of people who say they don’t understand depression, anxiety etc, if just say I feel bad and I want to do something about it, people usually empathize with it. I also think lot of people want not take it seriously when other people say that because they feel like where was their help when they needed it? I think that the human nature is usually to feel almost jealous that someone else is asking for help or sympathy and they want to get better but you have to talk back to that voice and say maybe this is an opportunity for me to finally, be honest about how I might have been feeling the whole time. Because at some point you have to break the cycle.

Though you’ve said how you can’t underestimate how ignorant people can be, there’s a section of the book where you talk about how you uploaded your video, “Basically, I’m gay,” and braced for negativity. But that you were surprised by all the positive responses. So, what’s the most recent instance you can think of where you were pleasantly surprised by humanity?

Something that anyone that has to admit something, they’re going through and has in common, whether that’s something that’s come out as gay or someone just admitting that they’re just really stressed or feeling very anxious, is feeling like they have to constantly explain themselves. This is just an example of how you can be afraid of what people will say but when you’re really just honest about something that you’re going through, people usually relate to it on a day-to-day level. Whenever I talk to someone about mental health or sexuality, who may think its weird at first but as I describe my thoughts and feelings, they may relate to it even if they aren’t going through exact same thing as you. For me, a year after coming out and I still have that conversation on a daily basis. As a teenager, I had that deathly fear, that I couldn’t tell anyone because it would be terrible, but now I realize that actually most people are just scared. They aren’t inherently hateful; they’re just putting up that wall because they think that being vulnerable leaves them for attack. But actually, if we’re all vulnerable we’d be a lot happier.

Speaking of vulnerability, you touch upon your upbringing in the book and how it sort of taught you to keep a stiff upper lip. When did you start learn to be vulnerable and what was the biggest challenge with that?

Being a young British man, going to an all-boys school or the comedians that I looked up to on TV – everyone was so cynical. It was about trying to be as like edgy as possible and like act tough, and not show this vulnerability in case it’s seen as weakness. I think that I carried this perception all the way into my mid-20s, it seeped into every part of my personality. A lot of the stuff that I made, when I was younger, had this cynical edge to it and it was only when I started to get more followers from around the world that I began people started questioning that cynicism. At first, I’d go “this is British humour,” but a few years later, I just started to reflect about the way I was about myself and realized it was a bit more than a joke have, I actually started to let this self-hatred and the lack of empathy towards how I feel sort of eat me up. I think because only because of the people who have followed me over the years, giving me a reflection of who I am through how they’ve perceived me that I’ve been able to break free of my default programming.

About your sense of humour and how you kind of make sense of how you’re feeling through jokes, have you ever felt misunderstood -particularly given the cultural differences of your audiences you just mentioned – like you’re trying to make light of something that a lot of people suffer from?

Yeah, there’s a weird line and there’s lots of conversations these days about what you’re allowed to joke about. What the difference between talking about something, being comfortable with it and almost glamorizing it. But I think if the biggest problem with mental health globally is people don’t even want to admit that they’re wrong. And that they don’t even know that they were wrong. A bunch of people joking about how depressed they feel could be a good thing because they have at least taken the first step. So, I think it’s good that people can joke about things in a way that breaks the ice as long as they all know, in the same way that my book might make them feel very personally attacked that just behind that joke that you put up to protect yourself, there is something that you should work on. Even if it’s painful, that it will make you happier.

You mention celebrating small wins in the book. What win are you celebrating today?

I have just moved house and I have a toilet that doesn’t flush yet. But I managed to stick a coat hanger, inside the toilet and to make it flush. I just got my own toilet to flush, and for me, that’s such a miracle. It was a perfect example of how we take so many things for granted in life, whether it’s something huge to do with your health, the state of the world, your privilege. But I now have a flushing toilet and everything else felt easy. I can handle it because I got some perspective.

You also touch on the importance of inner circles in the book. , When was the last time, you personally reached out to bring someone into your inner circle and do you remember how you did it?

I am so awkward and awful at making friends and it’s something that usually, I’ll have one of those breakdowns where I go, “I have no friends.” The next day, I’ll wake up and DM people, out of every three people I DM two-point-nine will just ignore me and I will be very embarrassed. But then one of them will say “ yes, in two and a half weeks, we will go get a pizza.” And you only have to succeed a couple times ever to make friends that you hopefully will see more than once. I know from experience, it can be embarrassing, painful and not fun to try and reach out to new people but you just start adding one person, every two years until you have a friend group.

While working on this book, I know you consulted with a psychologist for it, aside from your lived experiences. What did you learn about mental health while looking at it from an outside, expert perspective?

I think one of the biggest revelations for me while writing this book is realizing how much of it isn’t a logical thought in our head. So much of mental health is controlled by our body, and the physical things that we experience. It’s about just how we breathe, how much light, and fresh air. And the problem is in our modern world, our brains are looking at everything as a threat. As soon as you realize actually, humans are not as complicated and mysterious as we think, we’re just little animals trying not to get murdered. It was freeing to know because that meant we aren’t born with this magically broken consciousness, that’s just doomed. It definitely made me look at mental health for what it is rather than the mysterious fog of pain that I thought it was for the last 10 years that I had absolutely no control over.

You’ve said that you’re obviously not done with your mental health journey, but where are you on that journey at this moment in time?

I’m doing a lot better than I was simply because I can understand what I feel, and why, and that it’s normal now. And I honestly feel like that’s 90% of it. Most people don’t ever question their lives. If they spend too much time, feeling overwhelming you stressed or if they worry too much and they’re just not enjoying life day-to-day. But just knowing that there’s something you can do about, it gives me enough hope. From writing the book, I know everything I can do to get better.

Finally, what’s one question no one has asked you so far that you wish you were asked?

I think it’s just how do I convince the other people in my life to take mental health seriously? I realized from writing this book and now, talking about it that the biggest problem I have is that most people simply do not think the conversation about mental health, or mental health, applies to them because they’re fine. So many people think mental health is only something for people that have crippling depression or serious anxiety disorder, but it’s just how all of us, think and feel all the time. If you have bad self-esteem, if you worry about everything, if you have a way of looking at the world that’s really negative and you expect the worst, then you might not need to immediately have an intervention with a psychotherapist, but you need to understand your mental health. Even if you read this book and say you are totally fine, then you still need to know this stuff so you can understand why you are fine. There will be a point in life where you need to make yourself feel better and mental health isn’t about waiting until you snap, and then picking up the pieces and going on medication. It should be about knowing how to keep yourself healthy and happy so that you don’t have a breakdown. Everyone has mental health, and that’s the thing that I wish I could just shove into everyone’s faces.

#daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dan #phan #mine #interview

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