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hongism · 3 years

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give and take - k.ys, j.wy, k.hj 18+

pairing; wooyoung x yeosang x hongjoong genre; angst, smut, 18+, the angst isn’t bad i swear it’s temporary wc; 16.8k summary; watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. and sure, yes, yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. warnings; explicit smut, fingering, oral sex: m, dirty talk, praise, lil degradation, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism, explicit smut, multiple orgasms, come sharing, masturbation, handjobs, threesome, sub woo, sub yeo, dom joong, yaknow the works an; happy belated valentine’s day! i hope you all enjoy muahmuah xx also this is grossly unedited im sorry but my internet is gonna go out again at any second and i just wanna post this ;;-;

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It starts, as many things do, with a little bit of jealousy. And honestly, Yeosang could not for the life of him tell you what exactly that jealousy was in the slightest (at least that is what he tries to convince himself on nights where his thoughts all but consume him). He was not the first to notice the sudden dynamic shift between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, and he was positively certain that the others would catch up soon enough. He was the third to detect the shift in their demeanors around each other; Seonghwa obviously being the first since he’s so close with Hongjoong and apparently has to vacate his own bedroom whenever Wooyoung disappears inside. Jongho, the ever-observant and perceptive youngest, was the second to notice, and he is actually the one who prompted Yeosang to take a deeper look into what was going on.

At first, Yeosang thought nothing of it. Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been getting closer, moving past those first fumbling awkward moments they had in the beginning and blossoming into a closer relationship. It seemed only natural for the two of them to spend more time together. Then Jongho pulled him aside one day after Wooyoung quite deliberately turned down the opportunity to play games with San and Yunho.

“What’s going on with Wooyoung-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung?”

Yeosang had blinked dumbly at the younger and made some sort of dumb noise asking why Jongho would be bringing the question to him of all people, then it sunk in that of course he would bring it to Yeosang. Yeosang is both the one who has known Wooyoung the longest — and is subsequently the closest with the younger brunette — as well as Wooyoung’s roommate, so he spends a considerable amount of time with the man.

“He’s not mentioned anything to me?”

Yeosang cursed himself then for sounding so dumb and unsure, but it was the truth in the very least, and Jongho gave a slight shrug before walking away with a shady ‘maybe you should pay closer attention, hyung’ that left Yeosang glaring at the spot where the youngest just stood.

Pay closer attention to what?

Yeosang didn’t have any idea what exactly he was supposed to be paying attention to, so he just did what he thought he did best, which was observing from the sidelines. One good thing about being quiet by nature was being able to examine conversations and interactions with greater care, as well as listen in on things that perhaps he should not be listening to but sometimes the others are just too loud for him not to overhear.

After Jongho mentions it to him though, Yeosang truly does start picking up on things. How Hongjoong snaps at Wooyoung in practice only to give him a twisting smirk afterward, how Wooyoung side-eyes the leader before dipping into the bathroom on movie nights, and especially how Hongjoong always waits three minutes and forty-five seconds before getting up to head down the hall proclaiming to need ‘sleep’. Yeosang is positive the two are doing something behind everyone’s backs — well everyone except Seonghwa, because the eldest always stares after Hongjoong’s back as the man departs with a look in his eye that Yeosang is incapable of placing.

The most important thing is that Wooyoung is spending less and less time with Yeosang, and consequently, Hongjoong too is spending less time with Yeosang. And the visual truly didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at first. He wasn’t bothered or bent out of shape about the increase in their shady encounters or whatever it is they’re up to because he didn’t think it was too out of the ordinary.

Then Wooyoung asked for a raincheck on their typical Thursday evening ramen stop. Yeosang saw him darting off to the studio moments after, and he didn’t return to their shared room until Hongjoong did. (Yeosang definitely did stay up waiting for either man to return; he didn’t need the confirmation, of course, he could have just assumed, but what’s several hours of lost sleep to him now?)

And after that, Hongjoong canceled one of their producing sessions together saying that he was simply too busy that day to check in on Yeosang’s progress. He had promised to look over his work and listen to his song when they returned to the dorms, but when Yeosang packed his things and left the studio for the day, he saw a very distinctly Wooyoung-shaped figure dipping into Hongjoong’s studio behind him.

Yeosang thought he wasn’t one to get jealous. He thought he had learned that lesson the painful way when Wooyoung started casting him to the side to spend time with San instead of him, then when Hongjoong and Seonghwa called him out for the behavior, the issue had been resolved and Wooyoung returned to giving him ample amounts of attention. So truly, Yeosang cannot understand why he feels the small stirrings of jealousy in his gut whenever he sees Wooyoung running to Hongjoong. And even worse are the nagging jealousies that come when the leader is the one to seek Wooyoung out. Yeosang cannot for the life of him rectify that one, because why is he jealous of his best friend for simply spending time with Hongjoong?

He cannot admit it out loud, but in the nights where he finds himself staying up late and waiting for Wooyoung to return with Hongjoong, he thinks deeply about those curling tendrils in his gut.

Yeosang has come to the conclusion that for once in his life, he does not like this because it makes him feel like he is missing out on something. That is a startling realization in and of itself because Yeosang has never been one to care much about those sorts of things — it just isn’t in his character or personality — so at first he denied that possibility and tried to look to other sources. When nothing else could ever make sense in his mind, Yeosang just had to accept that this was a new and growing feeling to work through. And perhaps it has something to do with the other emotions swirling through his gut that he refuses to name.

Which lands him where he is now: outside Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s door with hand raised and ready to knock on the wood. It isn’t Wooyoung and Hongjoong inside though, not at this time of day, but rather Seonghwa, the one who has the most amount of contact with Hongjoong and also the one who vacates the room whenever Wooyoung comes running over. So if anyone is going to be able to cure Yeosang’s illness that is Not Knowing What the Fuck is Going on, it will 100% be Seonghwa. Yeosang dares to bring his knuckles down on the wood and raps against the door several times before he hears Seonghwa make a noise from inside the room.

“Hey, Woo, he’s not here right — oh, Yeosang!” Seonghwa blinks several times at the man before him as though he cannot believe that it is Yeosang and not his best friend standing in front of the door. “Are you looking for Hongjoong too? I’m afraid he’s still holed up in the studio right now.”

“W-What? No, no, hyung, I was looking for you,” Yeosang says with a quick shake of his head. Seonghwa’s eyes remain wide in surprise as he speaks, but once the words process, the older steps to the side and beckons for Yeosang to enter the room.

“Don’t be a stranger, of course, sit wherever you’d like. I was just reading a bit.”

Yeosang has no earthly idea how long this conversation might take. For all he knows, it could take a whopping two minutes or perhaps thirty minutes that falls into a lecture about jealousy and all that. So he resolves to perch on the edge of Hongjoong’s lower bunk, nudging one of the stray plushies to the side to make room for himself while Seonghwa pulls the chair from the desk to sit across from Yeosang. It already feels like something of an intervention, and Yeosang makes a note to choose his words very carefully to avoid sounding too upset or jealous about the situation.

“Has Wooyoung mentioned anything to you recently?” He starts, but perhaps that isn’t the best place to start at all, he realizes once the question is already out.

“Is there something he is supposed to have mentioned?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head further to the side.

“No, like — that’s not what I mean. Has he said anything—” This is the moment of truth for Yeosang. Either Seonghwa picks up on his jealousy in an instant, or he receives a straightforward answer and moves on with his life with at least a bit of understanding. “—anything about why he’s spending so much time with Hongjoong-hyung these days?”

“Hm?” Seonghwa seems genuinely perplexed by the question for a considerable amount of time, eyes darting down to look at a spot on the floor as he mulls over the question. Then, he shakes his head a few times and draws his lips into a tight purse. “Not to me at all, no. Has something happened between you two? Is he not speaking with you? Did you have a falling out? If something happened the—”

“No, no, hyung, please,” Yeosang interjects in a rush. Seonghwa cuts his thoughts short with a small frown, and Yeosang knows he is going to have to offer more of an explanation than that to ease the older’s worries. There is a bit too much shame burning at his gut presently though, a nagging and lingering feeling of embarrassment as he realizes he will inevitably have to admit that he is jealous of all things. And that is going to be another issue because Seonghwa knows him almost better than Wooyoung does, and the older for sure knows that Yeosang is never one to be jealous.

“It’s okay if the two of you are having issues, Yeosang. It happens to everyone, especially people who have known each other for as long as you and Wooyoung have. I’m not trying to insinuate anything of course, but I just want you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s the case.”

God, Yeosang wants to crawl into a tiny hole and die more than anything else right now because fuck this feeling.

“I’m just — I’m only asking because h-he turned San down the other night to spend time with Hongjoong. He has never done that. He and San are th-the closest and they never turn down the opportunity to spend time with each other, and it seems so odd that he would deny San so that he could spend time with‌ Hongjoong instead, and that’s just weird. It’s weird, and he doesn’t talk about it with me, he doesn’t mention it or anything like that, then he goes off and forgoes our plans together to be with Hongjoong too. And that’s fine, yeah, like they should spend time with each other, I don’t mind that part. Just… Hongjoong did it too and rain checked one of our producing lessons because he was apparently too busy with his own work and — and...”

Yeosang’s voice dies in his throat when he finally brings his gaze up to look Seonghwa in the eye, and the expression staring back at him is so raw and understanding that Yeosang cannot physically force any words out at that point. A small smile curls at the edges of Seonghwa’s lips, he huffs out a quiet laugh, and then his chin dips closer to his chest as the laugh overwhelms him. Yeosang, on the other hand, feels positively childish and stupid now that the admission is out there.

“I told them people would start noticing,” Seonghwa mutters more to himself than to Yeosang, but the younger picks up on the comment nonetheless. So he does know what’s going on between them. “Listen, Yeosang, yes, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are spending lots more time together. Yes, they are being a bit inconsiderate when it comes to the other members, but they are… at a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together. I have talked with both of them before about being a bit less persistent and intense, as well as prioritizing other people before themselves. But I am more than happy to talk with them about it again if it would help satiate your hurt feelings a bit?”

At least Seonghwa didn’t call him out on his jealousy. He should be grateful for that much. Why isn’t he grateful for that much? Oh, because of whatever the fuck Seonghwa’s rant is supposed to mean. ‘At a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Seonghwa is still smiling like he knows, and Yeosang is fully aware that Seonghwa does truly know because there is that lingering odd emotion behind his eyes again that Yeosang despises so much.

“I — wait, what?” Yeosang’s brain is running on pure fumes at this point. The confusion has mounted into something immense, and he hardly remembers why he was so upset at this point now because of the bewilderment rushing through his system.

“I can talk with them again if you’d like?” Seonghwa repeats his previous offer, eyes wide as he blinks at Yeosang and awaits an answer.

“No, the — the part about their relationship?”

Seonghwa glances off to the side, and he seems to think over what he’s said before his eyes widen a bit in shock.

“A-Ah! Um, no, don’t — I don’t mean anything crude, of course!” Anything crude? Yeosang’s mind certainly wasn’t going down that path before but now that Seonghwa has mentioned that, it is now. And frankly, that throws him off more than anything else because he never would have assumed that that is what was going on behind those closed doors or anything. He has known Wooyoung swings both ways with little care since well before Wooyoung knew himself, and well, Hongjoong told the whole group that he’s pansexual when they chose him to be the leader because of transparency and honesty or some shit like that but... still. Yeosang would expect something like that to happen between Wooyoung and San but with Hongjoong? He can’t even imagine that — not that he wants to imagine it! He would never do that!

Yeosang’s cheeks flush a deep red when he realizes what Seonghwa means, and the older in turn figures out that Yeosang’s mind was indeed not traveling down that path and he has just caused it to. It’s a disaster, truly, and neither of them seem put together enough to even try to recover the situation. All Seonghwa does is push up from his chair and move towards the door. Yeosang doesn’t have time to wonder what the hell he’s doing or if he’s preparing to kick Yeosang out because when Seonghwa opens the door, it’s Wooyoung who stumbles in with a huff.

“Hyung,” he whines through a pout, not even taking notice of Yeosang’s presence on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. “He sent me back here and said to wait another hour for him to come home. A whole hour!”

Seonghwa bears a strained smile, and he must look over in Yeosang’s direction because only then does Wooyoung shift and take note of the other presence in the room.

“Oh shit, were you guys — do I need to leave?”

“No, Woo, we were just having a chat,” Seonghwa insists, waving the younger man in. Wooyoung regards his best friend with a wary stare that has Yeosang’s stomach turning in knots several times before he swallows the feeling down. “Um, but since you’re here, this is the perfect opportunity to chat! Between the two of you!‌ So why don’t I step out and—”

“No, hyung, it’s okay.” Yeosang is the one to utter the words, and he does so as he pushes to his feet and away from Hongjoong’s bed. This is not what he came here to do, and yes, Seonghwa is right: they should talk, Yeosang should be honest about his feelings, but he also knows Wooyoung. He knows Wooyoung will whine and complain about Yeosang being too clingy or pointless jealousy or roll his eyes and unintentionally make Yeosang feel even worse about how he feels because that is just the way the other man is. It’s not from a bad place or a toxic place, merely Wooyoung’s way of handling issues, and inevitably Wooyoung will come crawling back to Yeosang’s bunk and cuddle him for a week straight before even thinking to hang out with another member. But right now, that isn’t what Yeosang wants. Mostly because he does not want to acknowledge his jealousy or the fact that it isn’t solely directed at Hongjoong spending time with Wooyoung. It is also directed at Wooyoung who is taking away from Yeosang’s time with the leader. Yeosang needs to work out those feelings before even thinking to discuss the issue with either man.

Seonghwa fixes him a startled glance, one that flits back to Wooyoung’s form several times, but Yeosang ignores it in favor of walking towards the door and replacing Wooyoung’s spot in the doorway. The oldest doesn’t seem pleased with his avoidance, as evidenced by the way he clamps a hand down hard around Yeosang’s arm before he can fully step out.

“I don’t want to have to play the parent and mediate between the two of you here,” he hisses more to Yeosang than to Wooyoung, but the youngest of the trio hears the words nonetheless and blinks over at his best friend with a bewildered expression. It’s then that Yeosang knows with full clarity that he is completely and utterly caught. Even if he tries to escape now, Wooyoung will come running after him and demand an explanation. “If he hears it from you then he’ll be more like to pull his act together and realize that I’m being serious.”

“Is something going on?” Wooyoung inquires at last, voice much fainter than it had been before. Yeosang manages to slip one glare in Seonghwa’s direction before he dares to face Wooyoung head-on.

“I just came to ask hyung why you seem to be spending so much time with Hongjoong these days.”

And Wooyoung has the nerve, he has the audacity, to actually look startled by that statement. Like he cannot believe that someone has caught on and realized how much time he’s spending with the leader, and he cannot believe Yeosang would go to Seonghwa of all people for answers. When Wooyoung shifts to look at the oldest, Yeosang doesn’t miss the way he sends a panicked expression of ‘what the fuck did you say to him’ and that’s when Yeosang’s mind really spirals.

At this point, he just wants to know what the fuck is going on so he can push his mind away from the gutter, but Wooyoung’s flushed cheeks and nervous glances are doing nothing to deter Yeosang from having the thought that perhaps Hongjoong and Wooyoung are spending their time together in a more intimate manner and he really needs to —

“He’s bothered by the fact that you keep shrugging him off for Hongjoong,” Seonghwa states, bringing Yeosang’s rampant thoughts to a screeching halt in an instant. “Which I told you both about before but you insisted th—”

“Hyung, it’s really okay, I just meant it as a harmless question, I’m not — it isn’t a big deal.”

“Is this about me rain checking you on Thursday?” Wooyoung asks. He points an accusatory finger in Yeosang’s direction, and the older of the two is certain that he doesn’t mean it in an accusatory way but he feels pinned and cornered by the gesture either way. “Yeo, I’m really sorry about that. I just wasn’t feeling up to going out that day and—”

“But you went to hyung’s studio right after and didn’t come back until Hongjoong-hyung did,” Yeosang counters before he can stop himself. That lingering bitterness returns to his gut as he mentions the memory, along with the subsequent memory of Hongjoong pushing him to the side for time with Wooyoung.

“In the studio?! Are you two out of your minds?!” Seonghwa hisses and reels on Wooyoung, who blinks back like a deer caught in the headlights.

“It’s — Yeosang is right there, hyung! Can’t you save the lecture for later? Or go chew hyung’s ear off instead of mine? It was his idea!”

“His idea? His idea! Of course it was. Let me guess: he felt bad for pushing me out of the room so much?” Seonghwa scoffs none too quietly. The bigger picture is started to come together, the puzzle pieces are slotting into place, and Yeosang is edging dangerously close to what he believes to be the truth.

He can’t stand the suffocation that comes in the air a moment later, almost like his own throat is trying to choke him and end him right then and there. So, he does the only logical thing he can think of and slips out of the open bedroom door as Seonghwa snatches Wooyoung’s ear and tugs mercilessly on the cartilage. The content of their argument is no longer important, not with the knowledge Yeosang has gotten so far, and it’s frankly stupid that he is even feeling so… whatever he is feeling right now. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to know what secrets they were hiding behind closed doors, and all the signs are pointing to one thing Yeosang doesn’t want to imagine.

Yeosang unfortunately doesn’t make it even a foot outside the door before he is running face-first into someone, and judging by the height of the person he nearly just clobbered to the floor, it has to be none other than Hongjoong. Yeosang steadies himself on the other’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling, and he brings a shaky gaze to the person’s features in search of a confirmation.

Sure enough, it’s Hongjoong, alright. Beanie squishing his mop of hair down, thick black-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dainty nose, and a bag slung over his shoulder that must contain his producing equipment. Yeosang says the only thing he can think of, which seems to be a common trend with him today.

“You’re back early.”

Hongjoong regards him with an expression of confusion and bewilderment, then Yeosang realizes that Hongjoong only told Wooyoung that part so he shouldn’t really have that knowledge, but then again, what’s the big deal? Why should it be odd for Wooyoung to tell his best friend something about their leader? Is that a secret for just the two of them to know as well? Or can Seonghwa be included in their little secret circle too?

“Yeah, I — I thought I would be able to focus but I kept getting distracted so I just packed up and came home to work on stuff instead.”

Yeosang dares to ask.

“Can I come by and work with you on some stuff then?”

“A-Ah, maybe in a bit? I’ll text you and let you know. I really need to hunker down on these…” Hongjoong trails off and rubs at the back of his neck. Yeosang doesn’t miss the way the older man glances off towards the door to his and Seonghwa’s bedroom.

“Yeah, of course, hyung, no worries,” he forces out, adding a tight smile that he hopes will ease Hongjoong’s stress a bit. The older nods as Yeosang steps out of the way, heading into the bedroom without further ado.

There is no real reason for Yeosang to stick around so he doesn’t; he merely heads for the living room and makes himself at home on the couch, perching on the cushions in a way that gives him a clear view directly down the hall. He has one more lasting curiosity, and he’s determined to get the answer right now rather than waiting god knows how long for the next opportunity. Thus, he waits. Two minutes pass, then ten, along with some slightly raised voices and Yeosang is sure that Seonghwa is chewing them both out in there, but he can’t make out anything of what they’re saying. Then after twenty long minutes, Seonghwa slips out of the room with a huff and a grumble, eyes rolling nearly to the back of his head, and he snaps the door shut behind him. He doesn’t even glance Yeosang’s way as he dips into the kitchen, although that’s probably because he’s covering his eyes with one of his hands and mumbling about always getting a headache because of those two.

Still, Yeosang waits. Another two minutes meld into ten. Wooyoung still hasn’t left the confines of Hongjoong’s room. It’s odd and peculiar in his mind because Hongjoong insisted that he needed to focus, he needed to work, but Wooyoung has to be — and Yeosang says this as lovingly as possible — the most distracting human being on the face of the planet.

It is enough to grab Yeosang’s attention by the horns and drive him to push up off the couch. He doesn’t think twice about what he is doing, that twisting and churning in his gut is the only thing on his mind right now, but he doesn’t stop his warpath until he reaches the end of the hallway where Hongjoong’s door sits on the right. A few seconds of precious silence pass, then he leans towards the wood and presses his ear to it.

For a moment, he feels entirely too foolish because he doesn’t hear a thing other than the quiet clicking and tapping of what must be Hongjoong’s computer. He turns to leave with his chin tucked to his chest in shame at the thought of how certain he was they were doing something… something in there. Then there’s a quiet moan, followed by an airy giggle that can only be Wooyoung, and a sharply hissed ‘stop that’ from Hongjoong.

“But I’m having fun, hyung. Aren’t you having fun?”

“The only thing I’m supposed to be having is you sit still while I work. You promised to be good if I came home early.”

“And you promised to make me see stars with how hard you’d fuck me. That’s not happening right now either, is it? So why don’t we…”

Yeosang’s brain turns to radio noise. Television static. Microwave beeping. All three at once. Or is that an actual microwave beeping? Is Seonghwa cooking something? He has no clue. He can’t see straight either honestly, mind too overwhelmed with what he has just heard, and shaky legs carry him back to his own door before pushing him inside with as much haste as he can muster.

Fuck me.

Wooyoung said the words with undeniable clarity. Yeosang shakes against the door, hand still clasped tight around the knob as though it will do him any good.

Fuck. me.

It really shouldn’t be a big deal. Yeosang should not be bothered. It’s only natural and expected for men of their age to have pent-up sexual frustrations, and of course, they have every right to exercise those urges however they want. Given their orientations, they would slot together perfectly too so why, why, why is Yeosang so bothered right now? It’s shameful the way his jealousy twists further in his gut, and he slides down the door until he’s planted firmly on the ground with knees drawn up to his chest.

He feels so fucking foolish. Thinks back to all the times he and Wooyoung have cuddled and been in close proximity over the years. The way he tried to be daring and bridge the gap between them. The lingering curiosity of blossoming emotions in his chest. The moment he realized where he sat on the spectrum when Wooyoung’s laugh sent such intense feelings of pure love through his chest that Yeosang couldn’t look him in the eye for well over a week after. Hands searching for Wooyoung’s in the dark, clasping tight together, and the fleeting sensation of lips dragging over Yeosang’s knuckles. Breathy laughs exchanged in the dark, soft admissions of love that Yeosang refused to amount to anything more than a friendship but secretly — oh so secretly he wished for more. Wooyoung’s touchy affections that came in the form of sloppy kisses on the cheek and teasing bites to the neck and shoulder. Then came San. Wooyoung stealing away from him. Hands finding San’s instead, hugs and cuddles going to the other man as Yeosang fell further and further away without even trying to pull Wooyoung back. He watched him go without putting up a fight.

What did he do then? The only thing he thought was logical: seek out the member he has the most in common with, the one who seems to understand him better than anyone, one of the view who understands and appreciates his need for quiet moments of peace.

Hongjoong.

Late nights in the studios, backs hunched and aching as they bent over a computer and Hongjoong showed him the steps to his artistic process. Compliments shared in amazement and wonder because Yeosang could not fathom how incredible Kim Hongjoong could be, yet still the older managed to exceed any expectations like it was the easiest thing on earth. The pride that would swell in Yeosang’s chest when Hongjoong congratulated him on a job well done, when he would mention the younger on his lives, the excitement in his hyung’s eyes whenever Yeosang would pop his head into the studio late at night. Hongjoong clasping a hand over Yeosang’s own shaky ones as he practiced for a cover. Whispered praises and reassurances when Yeosang would miss a note or slip up. Slow patience that waited for him without fail. Yeosang hates that he was foolish enough to let those feelings of admiration morph into the desire to be close to Hongjoong all the time, to cling to him, kiss him, have him for himself.

And he especially hates that he was never able to bury those dwindling emotions of love and affection he felt towards Wooyoung, because now? Now it’s like he is living a nightmare. Watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. And sure, yes, Yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. He wishes he could be heartbroken or something along those lines because that would be a normal reaction. That would be typical and explainable and easier to manage than the sensation in Yeosang’s gut. In that moment, he gets some clarity that it is, in fact, not jealousy of either party. It’s a desire to be involved, a want to be there with them, and a need to be involved. Did he mistake it for jealousy? Every time he saw one running to the other, he thought it was merely envy that twisted his gut, but now… now Yeosang is coming to realize that it wasn’t envy or anything like that. He just wanted to be another piece in their puzzle because those two are the ones he’s closest to (and effectively has all too real feelings for), and it pains him so much that his eyes burn.

There are tears on his cheeks now surely, but his body has entered an odd state of numbness that he can’t piece together and cannot bother to piece together either. He doesn’t think twice before pushing himself back up to his feet, hands shaky and unstable as he moves for the dresser and pulls out a fresh set of clothes, dead set on taking the bathroom and washing his feelings away in the shower. What Yeosang doesn’t account for, however, is someone being in the hall at the same time he is, and he runs face-first into a chest.

“Yeosang?”

Fuck, and it just has to be Yunho of all people too. The one who probably won’t let Yeosang get by without drawing all his worries out of him and making sure he’s alright. And no, he’s not alright, and he doesn’t really want to be right now, but Yunho doesn’t need to know that. So Yeosang shrugs off the hands that find a home on his arms and tries to step around Yunho to get to the bathroom that is so so close yet so far away because of the wall standing before him.

“Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, leave it alone, Yun,” Yeosang mutters through his teeth. But apparently, he can’t have a moment’s peace because Seonghwa must have heard the litany of questions and gotten concerned as well, his voice coming up behind Yeosang like a cruel shadow.

“Yeosang? Is something wrong?”

Yeosang doesn’t turn around but he doesn’t need to because Seonghwa closes the distance between them and steals a glance around his shoulder nonetheless. Yunho seems to be in the dark still in the very least, but Seonghwa will most certainly be able to figure out the source of his tears.

“Yeo… this — how bad is it? This is why I wanted you two to settle it then and there!”‌ Seonghwa exhales. His brows draw together to form a tight line that pains Yeosang to look at.

“Settle what?” Yunho inquires, blinking between both men, and his grip on Yeosang’s arms finally relents in that moment of shock. Yeosang takes the moment of freedom like a lifeline and pushes past Yunho to dart into the bathroom without further ado. Neither man behind him can catch him before he snaps the door shut in their faces, twisting the lock and trapping himself in the small room.

“Yeosang!” Seonghwa calls through the door, and he brings his fist down on the wood as though it will do any good.

“Maybe we should give him some space, hyung…” Yunho’s voice fades into the static running through Yeosang’s mind, and he no longer processes their conversation as he cranks the handle of the shower to let the water heat up. The pain in his chest also dulls, but only when he lets hot water run over his bare back, forehead pressed to the tiled wall.

Things are catching up to him now. Reality is seeping in and he is realizing all the things that have been happening behind their backs for the past several weeks. He blames his own imagination for the flashes that come through his mind as he tries to wash the feelings away. Wooyoung pressed under Hongjoong’s weight, fervent touches and lingering kisses. The same hands that held Yeosang’s dragging over the contours of muscles and skin, filling in the gaps that Yeosang wishes he could have filled. Or perhaps Wooyoung would curl himself into Hongjoong’s lap and hold the leader as close as possible as he so dearly loves to do with the others.

Perhaps it is more intimate and special with the two of them, however, and maybe Hongjoong fucks up into Wooyoung like that, holds him close while he works in the studio, and maybe that’s what they do when Yeosang is turned away. He bets that Hongjoong praises Wooyoung too as he loves to give all the members a litany of praises whenever they do something well, and Yeosang’s desires turns ugly when he thinks of Wooyoung being praised for being good for Hongjoong, nice and pliant and perfect for him, and fuck Yeosang wants to be part of it so badly it hurts. He wants Wooyoung to stand off to the side and watch, wants his own best friend to see him fall apart under Hongjoong’s touch. Wooyoung is such a brat that he probably acts that way in bed as well, and Yeosang feels nearly light-headed as he imagines himself being the one to receive Hongjoong’s attention and subsequently Wooyoung’s as well like he would be some example for Wooyoung to follow on how to be good.

Yeosang doesn’t feel disgusted by the thoughts but rather the way his own body responds to the images floating through his mind, the way his member reacts to it, and the temptation to reach down and stroke himself to completion is intoxicating. He cranks the water instead so that it’s nearly icy on his skin to keep his mind from wandering too much into the inappropriate territory even though it’s already there.

The cold is barely enough to stave off Yeosang’s churning gut because the sound of that quiet moan and Wooyoung’s delicate giggle are in his ears again even as he steps out of the shower and wipes the droplets away with a towel. It persists even when he leaves the bathroom, darting into the hall to make a break for his room in case anyone was outside waiting for him, but thankfully this time he has the hallway to himself and can make it to his shared room with Wooyoung without much issue. Yeosang only says ‘much’ because just before he opens the door, a noise carries down the hall and to his ears. One that is unmistakable but most likely only audible to someone like Yeosang who is standing in the hallway.

Another moan. This one is much more high-pitched and strung out than the last, bordering on the territory of a squeal, and based on the all too loud thud that follows, Yeosang can picture what’s going on with too much clarity.

“Hyung!” Yeosang’s heart surges forward in his chest, and he whips around like someone else has spoken the word, but it’s very clearly Wooyoung’s tone. Nonetheless, Yeosang shoves himself into his bedroom and snaps the door shut behind him as quickly as possible, flipping the lock for good measure because his cock is too hard to be ignored now. Part of him wishes he had more willpower to avoid this, and yet he’s too weak in the end.

Less than five minutes later, Yeosang finds himself curled under the sheets of his bunk, eyes blown wide open and staring at the ceiling above his head as he drags the flat of his hand over his cock. The friction is delectable at best but still not enough to satiate the arousal blooming in his gut. Arousal that only deepens when his mind recreates the images from earlier. This time he’s with them, imagining himself sitting off to the side as Hongjoong works on‌ Wooyoung’s body.

“Sit still and watch me punish him.”

Curse his imagination for being so potent that he can practically hear Hongjoong’s words on his ears.

“Touch yourself for us, Sangie, you know you want to,” Wooyoung would purr, still giggling even though he’s in trouble and about to be punished.

Yeosang presses his palm down harder against his cock. He won’t last more than two minutes like this; he’ll probably come like a teenager in less than that if he jerks himself with too much haste. So he forms a tight ring around the base of his cock and squeezes just hard enough to stave off the heady sensation in his veins. He debates going down to grab the small bottle of lube from Wooyoung’s end table. That’s too much effort right now, he needs his release soon, and he frankly doesn’t have enough patience in his body at the moment to finger himself open.

“You’ll be good and come when Wooyoung does, won’t you, Sangie?”

He wants to so badly. He knows he would be so good under Hongjoong’s control, he would take anything given to him because he wants that so badly, he wants someone to take the control from his hands and be at their mercy. He wouldn’t fight it or talk back, he would be so good it hurts, and a weak mewl tumbles from his lips before he can stop it.

Yeosang flings his free hand up to cover his mouth as though someone is going to hear the quiet noises, and when he presses the butt of his hand down again, more whimpers fall out. He can’t stop the noises nor does he try to any longer. The desire for a release is too overwhelming, mixed voices touching his imagination and seeming too real for Yeosang to handle as he ruts helplessly against his palm for that delicious bit of friction. And when he comes, he comes hard and fast, eyes rolling back in pleasure as his hips continue to cant up into his hand. He moans out Hongjoong’s name as he comes and doesn’t stop to think about quieting the noise this time in his fog of pleasure. Come spills over his palm only to be smeared over his skin when he can’t stop the movements of his hips. If he thought that would end the vision in his head, he was quite wrong, because after the haze covering his thoughts disperses a bit, it comes rushing back.

“I thought you said you’d be good for us, Sangie. You came before me.”

“I told you to come with Wooyoung, baby. Why couldn’t you do that simple task?”

“You always say that you’re going to be good for us, Sangie. Yet you can’t even seem to live up to those words.”

The tears that hit Yeosang’s cheeks next are ones that come from pure overstimulation and eustasy. Heat swarms his skin, a pretty pink blush that causes his whole body to flush, and his hips just don’t stop moving even as his mind cries out for a release from the self-inflicted torture.

“Pl-Please, Woo,” Yeosang whimpers to the air above him. “I’ll — I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, p-please.” It is all too much for him to handle right then because the next thing he knows, he is coming yet again, but it’s a painfully dry orgasm since he didn’t give himself any recovery time. He releases a choked sob that breaks into a strangled moan instead, then his hips finally rest and give his poor leaking member a break. The only thing that can leave his lips for several minutes is a series of gasps and pants, chest heaving desperately as he tries to catch his breath.

When he finally recovers, Yeosang pulls himself down from the bunk and strips once more now that he’s gotten the fresh set of clothes dirty and soiled. It’s as he is pulling a shirt over his head that the door handle jiggles to no avail.

“Sangie? Did you lock the door?”

Fuck. Wooyoung. He won’t have any knowledge of what Yeosang has just done, or that Yeosang knows what he was just doing himself, but the red hot shame burning in Yeosang’s gut. He just jerked off to the thought of his best friend and his hyung including him in their personal business. Yeosang doesn’t even know if either of them would be okay with such a thing, and yet —

“Yeosang? Are you in there or not?”

“S-Shit,” Yeosang exhales to himself, tugging his shirt the rest of the way and rushing to get to the door. He flips the lock and swings the door wide open to greet Wooyoung with wide eyes and mussed hair. Wooyoung’s hair is damp and clinging to his forehead; he looks fresh out of a shower, and Yeosang has no doubt that he and Hongjoong showered together after their… activities. “Yeah, sorry, S-Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t get the hint that I didn’t wanna talk to him right now.” It’s only a partial lie, enough to cover what Yeosang was actually up to, and Wooyoung seems to buy it by the way he shrugs his shoulders quickly and brushes past Yeosang to get in the room. He doesn’t stay long, however, coming in simply to fetch his phone before darting back out of the room. Yeosang wants to ask where he is going, but at the same time, he can probably guess that it has something to do with San or Hongjoong again.

Yeosang doesn’t stay to watch him go. Instead, he dips back into their shared bedroom and shuts the door, intent to sleep through the rest of the day and push these lingering thoughts out of his mind. It’s only when Wooyoung returns hours later whining to himself about how San never lets him win a game that Yeosang dares to speak. He waits until his friend curls up in bed and gets comfortable, throat lodged with emotion.

“I…”

Wooyoung doesn’t offer even a noise of acknowledgment. Maybe he’s already fallen asleep. Perhaps Yeosang shouldn’t say anything or he should say this for another time, but right now he just wants to see. Test the waters. Gauge his reaction.

“I know about you and Hongjoong-hyung, Woo.” Curse him for stuttering when he did, and curse him for not having the balls to say it outright. How hard should it be for you to say to your best friend “I know you’re fucking our group leader under everyone’s noses”? Saying something cryptic like “I know what you’re doing with hyung” sounded too scary in Yeosang’s mind, but maybe he could have had a better approach. Especially since the bunk under his creaks and the sheets jostle, then a Wooyoung-shaped shadow darts across the room. The door swings open, Wooyoung slips out, then it slams shut, causing way too much noise for the hour.

Yeosang isn’t sure what he was expecting. He knows Wooyoung avoids confrontation. This should have been expected, yet as Yeosang curls onto his side and faces the wall, the tears that slip out his eyes are more painful than before, and he thinks vaguely in the back of his mind that Wooyoung doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the relationship he shares with Hongjoong.

Morning is awkward and stilted. Wooyoung most definitely went to Hongjoong’s room and told him what Yeosang said; Yeosang can see it in the way Hongjoong’s gaze slips between both boys throughout breakfast. He is a bit thankful that Hongjoong doesn’t look towards him with the same amount of fear and shame as Wooyoung did earlier, and there is no disgust or embarrassment in his stare either — only concern. Seonghwa is still worried about Yeosang’s crying in the hallway yesterday, as is Yunho because the dancer got Yeosang coffee and a plate of food, staying by his side all throughout breakfast with a hand placed over Yeosang’s thigh the entire time. The tension is palpable, and there’s no doubt that everyone knows something is wrong in some way.

Seonghwa keeps sending Hongjoong looks across the table, even as San and Yunho try to bring some energy back to the table and dispel the awkwardness. Those glances are probably the thing that prompt the leader to speak. And so, Hongjoong is the one to breach the subject, but he does it in a way that Yeosang could never have expected, and based on the way Seonghwa chokes on his syrupy coffee, the older had no clue this was Hongjoong’s plan either.

“Some of you have noticed that Wooyoung and I are spending a lot more time together these days.” Yeosang dares to look over at his friend, but the man is staring down at the table with cheeks so red and flushed that he’s nearly purple. “It’s because we’re fucking.”

There goes Seonghwa choking on his coffee, Mingi gags around a mouthful of rice, Yunho’s hand squeezes painfully on Yeosang’s thigh, San bites back a laugh and cheeky smile, and Jongho drops his spoon on the edge of the table in shock. Another clatter follows as the same spoon hits the ground, but Jongho doesn’t even move to pick it up and instead stares directly at Hongjoong like the leader like he’s just kicked a dog or something.

“Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Hongjoong’s gaze finds Yeosang immediately. Oh, so the question is targeted at him. Yet even as everyone else at the table denies there being any issue with such a thing, Yeosang can’t bring himself to shake his head or deny it. It’s not that he does have a legitimate issue with it, he merely wishes to slot himself in their space and be part of it. He can’t very well admit that over breakfast with the rest of the group though, especially not with how Wooyoung reacted last night. Hongjoong doesn’t wait for a response.

“Just because we have this relationship now doesn’t mean any of the group dynamics should or have to change. We are by no means exclusive or closed off to just each other. Understood?”

A chorus of affirmations greet Hongjoong, and Yeosang actually joins in this time despite the clench of his heart.

If Hongjoong expected the conversation to fix everything on a whim, then he would be sorely incorrect.

Wooyoung continues to avoid Yeosang. He won’t come into the room at the same time as Yeosang, only comes to sleep if San or Hongjoong kicks him out of their rooms, and is always either sleeping or gone by the time Yeosang gets up. Despite Yeosang constantly looking over at his friend, Wooyoung almost never looks back, and when he does, his expression twinges with something Yeosang would almost call guilt. He tries not to think about that bit too hard or too much.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, actually makes an effort to do things differently. He invites Yeosang to the studio much more often, asks him to accompany him as he picks up food for the rest of the group at least two times a week, and Yeosang finds himself frequenting Hongjoong’s room to work on producing practice a lot more as well.

Yeosang can’t complain because it’s what he wanted and missed so dearly, and he should be content that at least one of his crushes is giving him such devoted attention, but he is loathe to admit that part of his heart is dedicated to Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. That part is shattered in a thousand pieces every time Wooyoung sees him and turns to go in the opposite direction. He doesn’t last longer than a week with Wooyoung’s behavior, and the breaking point is a Saturday evening when Yeosang steps out of his room to see Wooyoung leaving Hongjoong’s with an unreadable expression. Hongjoong steps into the doorway right after, hand chasing Wooyoung’s and catching hold of it before the younger can dip out of his reach.

And now, Yeosang suddenly feels like he’s watching something that he shouldn’t be because Hongjoong places his free hand on Wooyoung’s cheek and leans his forehead against the other man’s, lips moving quickly and quietly as they speak to each other. Wooyoung nods several times before stepping back and turning around. His body tenses a bit as he sees Yeosang standing at the other end of the hall. They regard each other with equally wide eyes and lingering stares for several seconds before Hongjoong prompts Wooyoung to move by slapping the flat of his hand down hard on his ass. Wooyoung releases a startled yelp, cheeks flushing a dark red before he rushes to San and Yunho’s door and enters without even bothering to knock.

Hongjoong finally looks at Yeosang. The younger can’t describe the feeling that swoops through his gut, but Hongjoong is smirking at him and making him feel like that infinite space between their bodies is nonexistent. It’s like the man is standing right before him and cascading warm breath over his lips and neck, then he tilts his head to the side and motions towards his bedroom.

“Did you still wanna get some work done?”

Yeosang responds with a quick nod and dips back into his own room to snatch his phone up off the dresser before fully stepping into the hall to meet Hongjoong by his door.

“No laptop?” The older regards him with a curious stare even as Yeosang shakes his head a bit.

“Just wanna watch you work some, I think. If that’s okay?”

Hongjoong’s lips twist into a gentle smile, and warmth fills his gut.

“Of course, Yeo, come on.”

Yeosang half-expects the room to reek of sex and debauchery, or for the bed to be a wreck, but that’s not the case. Everything is almost too perfect by Hongjoong’s standards, like Seonghwa came through and raided the room before Yeosang stepped in. In fact, he’s almost certain that Hongjoong went the extra mile to change the sheets, but he doesn’t comment on it even as Hongjoong settles down in the bed and pats the empty space next to him. Yeosang climbs up beside him, heart in his throat and threatening to choke him out.

“I think I’ll be able to finish this one either today or tomorrow so I can submit it for the next album,” Hongjoong mutters. Yeosang watches with wide and careful eyes as he tugs his laptop into his lap, pulling the music file up to pick up where he left off. Yeosang is frankly not paying any attention to what’s happening on Hongjoong’s screen. He’s too busy looking at the man’s side profile, the way his brows draw together in concentration. Hoodie drawn over his head with headphones pressed over one ear and the other pressed further back on his hood.

“Hyung…” Yeosang trails off, unsure of how to voice what it is he’s after, and Hongjoong’s lingering stare only makes him more nervous. But then, the older shifts in the bed and presses his back further against his pillows. He lays his laptop to the side, for the time being, throwing his legs out, and Yeosang inhales sharply at the way Hongjoong motions to the space between them. Is he asking Yeosang to —

“Do you wanna lie down?”

Oh. Of course. Why would he think Hongjoong wanted something else when he and Wooyoung have each other for that? Still, Yeosang slips between Hongjoong’s legs and presses his head to the man’s stomach like it’s glass. Once he’s fully situated and comfortable, Hongjoong pulls his laptop back, placing it atop Yeosang’s stomach without missing a beat. The angle is a bit awkward on his neck, but Yeosang doesn’t complain because he gets to be this close to Hongjoong and in his arms like this. It’s practically intoxicating, and Yeosang almost feels light-headed by the time Hongjoong shifts their position to tug Yeosang further up on his chest, letting the younger drop his head into the crook of his shoulder.

Hongjoong doesn’t speak; he merely lets Yeosang rest against him like that with the familiar beat of his track playing faintly through his headset, and Yeosang watches on with less interest than usual as he drags things across the screen and into place. Then, after some unknown amount of time, Hongjoong decides to pipe up.

“When I talked to the group last week about Wooyoung and me, you were the only one not to say you were okay with the arrangement.” He murmurs the words softly, and Yeosang nearly doesn’t pick up on them at all. The moment they process though, he stiffens in Hongjoong’s hold. Although the man isn’t holding him there against his will, Yeosang feels somehow trapped and unable to escape.

“W-Wooyoung — he ran away from me.” Maybe that’s an exaggeration but the man did straight up bolt out of the room when Yeosang brought it up.

“He’s afraid that you hate him.”

That has Yeosang pulling himself forward, knocking Hongjoong’s hands away from where his laptop sits in Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang has enough decency to snap the laptop shut and push it to the foot of the bed before shifting to face Hongjoong. The look in the leader’s eyes is unreadable when they finally look at each other.

“Why would I hate him?”

Hongjoong merely lifts a brow in response. He seems to weigh his next words on his tongue and teases the corner of his lips a few times before deciding to speak.

“Do you not?”

“Of course not,” Yeosang mumbles. “I don’t hate either of you.” He dares to look towards Hongjoong once more, eyes finding the leader’s and searching for any sort of reaction but there isn’t much there.

“Then why didn’t you come talk to me as well?”

“I figured…” Yeosang doesn’t really have a response for that. He was cowardly more than anything else and afraid of what sort of conversation they might end up having. “I thought you would want the conversation at breakfast to be the last of it.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up for the past week.”

“What?” Yeosang didn’t even have the slightest clue that Hongjoong was wanting to talk about it. Since everything fell back into their usual routine, he simply assumed that meant everything was fine.

“When you told Wooyoung that you knew about us, what were you referring to?”

Yeosang’s cheeks heat up a bit, and he has to drop his gaze to the bed.

“I heard the two of you… I heard — y-yeah.”

“Heard what?” Hongjoong presses again, and this time Yeosang releases an exasperated sigh.

“Christ, hyung, do I need to spell it out? I heard you both moaning a-and it didn’t take much to realize what you were doing!” That pulls a loud laugh from Hongjoong’s lips, and he throws his head back with the sound.

“That’s not what he thought you heard, Yeosang,” Hongjoong says through the laugh. Yeosang swallows hard in response, sitting back a bit more and straightening his back. “He thought you heard what came after that, which is why he’s been so avoidant with you.”

“What came after?” Yeosang echoes, instinctually gripping the sheets in his fists. Hongjoong’s lips stretch a bit further into a smile.

“He also didn’t hear the noises coming from your room after because he was in the shower.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeosang is so fucked. Hongjoong heard that? What all did he hear? Yeosang remembers moaning Hongjoong’s name a bit too loudly, but he also said Wooyoung’s name, so which did he hear? Or did he hear both? How could he not say anything about it for an entire week?

“But frankly, I didn’t hear it either since I was with Wooyoung in the shower.”

Yeosang can hardly breathe at this point, eyes stuck and fixated on some point on the mattress, and that’s not what Hongjoong wants apparently because a single finger curls under the base of his chin. Hongjoong lifts his head until they can look each other in the eye again.

“Seonghwa told me that you had been crying before taking a shower yourself. Then after you came out, he went to check on you but your door was locked, and… he heard you inside moaning my name.”

“I-I can ex-explain. It’s not — it’s not what it looks like and I—”

“And Wooyoung’s.”

“Hyung, I…” Yeosang is fumbling to figure out what he can say to get himself out of this situation. This is probably the worst thing that can happen right now, and if Hongjoong knows, then Wooyoung most likely knows too and maybe that’s the real reason behind his avoidance these days. Maybe he’s so disgusted by what Yeosang did that he doesn’t want to even look at him again. But the look in his eyes has never been disgust — only some odd mixture between guilt and sadness.

“I didn’t tell Wooyoung that part honestly. I figured… he wouldn’t take my word for it. So I think it would be better to show him, don’t you?”

“Show him what?” Yeosang exhales. Hongjoong presses forward so far that his breath ghosts over the younger’s lips, and Yeosang chokes on thin air.

“That you want him just as much as he wants you.”

“He… he wants me?” The disbelief is palpable, but Hongjoong is patient as always, releasing a small hum and shifting behind Yeosang to grab hold of his laptop and headphones again.

“The thing he thought you heard that day — I enjoy riling him up maybe a bit too much, and I kept teasing him with the thought of someone walking in and catching us. The only person he wanted to interrupt was you, and he kept saying your name over and over like a prayer, so loud that he thought you heard him. And thus your reaction… or rather your confrontation scared him and made him think that you were disgusted by it.”

Yeosang feels like he’s been thrust underwater, ears ringing and head clogged with a myriad of thoughts that refuse to make any sense whatsoever. He understands the basic gist of what’s going on in the very least. Hongjoong knows he jerked off to the thought of him and Wooyoung, Wooyoung wants him to some degree, and Hongjoong is pressing closer and closer now that he has slid his laptop off the bed and tucked it under the bunk. And while Yeosang certainly doesn’t want him to stop, there is the nagging thought in the back of his mind that while Hongjoong said that Wooyoung wants him to some degree, Hongjoong never said whether he wants Yeosang in the same way or not.

“B-But what — what about you?” He whispers, too scared to raise his voice any further than that. Hongjoong hums as he leans a bit closer, and Yeosang falls back onto his elbows. “Do y-you want me too?”

“I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” Hongjoong says in response. He pauses in his push forward, giving Yeosang precious time to think and breathe easy for a few minutes. “But I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, and I won’t push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Meaning that… if you want this but are uncomfortable with the idea of having an audience, we don’t have to have one.”

Audience?

When the realization sinks in, Yeosang draws his hands up to cover his face and hide the rampant blush that takes over his cheeks. Hongjoong is quick to respond, hands coming up to join Yeosang’s and gently clasp around his wrists.

“It’s okay, Sangie, baby, you don’t need to hide.”

Baby. Kim Hongjoong is positively trying to kill him on the spot.

“You’re so pretty, so so pretty especially when you blush like that,” Hongjoong continues. His voice comes out in a soft murmur, coating Yeosang’s ears like honey and dripping down to his gut where the threads of arousal begin to coil.

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales in a tone so breathy and whiny that it nearly doesn’t come out at all.

“I need a firm yes or no on whether you want this before anything else, Yeosang.” Hongjoong begins to pull away, and that is the breaking point for Yeosang’s sanity practically because he lurches forward and snatches Hongjoong by the collar of his hoodie, wrenching him back down to hover mere centimeters over Yeosang’s lips.

“Yes, hyung, the answer is yes, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, please just—”

Thank god Hongjoong cuts him off or else he would have just kept on babbling for an eternity. Yeosang falls quiet with a startled gasp as Hongjoong plants his lips atop the younger’s, and the arm that holds him up buckles under the sudden weight on his body. The both of them tumble down to the mattress at an awkward angle, Yeosang’s arm trapped behind his back and Hongjoong’s foot tangled in the sheets, but neither of them pay much attention to those issues. The priority seems to be each other’s lips, not that Yeosang is complaining about the way Hongjoong rushes to swipe his tongue over Yeosang’s lower lip. He grants entrance to his mouth with perhaps too much ease. The moment Hongjoong’s tongue breaches his lips and begins to explore his mouth, Yeosang chokes out a wanton moan that reverberates through the older’s mouth and pools heat in his gut.

It’s only then that Yeosang decides to resituate their position some, and he kicks at the sheets to unravel them from Hongjoong’s feet before pressing up harder against the leader’s body. Hongjoong seems to get the hint and leans back as well, letting Yeosang have a few precious moments of control as he eases Hongjoong back onto the pillows and straddles his hips like this is what he was made to do. Yeosang is already panting and out of breath, cheeks alight with embarrassment still, but he looks an absolute vision in Hongjoong’s eyes with blond hair enveloping his forehead like a halo and lips glistening with spit. He finds a shred of sense left in him to ask one more question before he lets Yeosang dive back in for more.

“Do you want Wooyoung to watch?”

And this admittedly is not a fantasy Yeosang ever pictured or imagined. He figured he would be the one doing the watching, he would sit on the sidelines while the two fawned over each other and fucked, but this? This is something tantalizing indeed, and Yeosang would be damned if he didn’t take this golden opportunity now. Especially with the knowledge that both Hongjoong and Wooyoung have thought about him in the throes of passion.

“Is that what you thought of when you were jerking off, Sangie?”

Yeosang can only whimper in reply, hands drawing up from where they sit atop Hongjoong’s chest to cover his blazing cheeks again, but Hongjoong is quicker this time. He keeps Yeosang’s hands right where they are by clasping his fingers around the other man’s wrists and watches on with pure admiration as Yeosang writhes a bit atop him.

“Hm? Is it, darling? Does dirty talk make you shy? We don’t have to do that if it makes you too uncomfortable. Give me a safe word as well just in case we need to stop.”

“No! No, no,” Yeosang denies in haste. “I… um, we can u-use red because that’s easy to remember.” Hongjoong offers a hum in approval, and Yeosang has to swallow his nerves before admitting the next bit. “I l-like being embarrassed a bit.”

“Do you, Sangie? Tell me what else you like.” Hongjoong is practically purring the words, and Yeosang thinks it will send him spiraling over the edge. The teasing glint in the older’s eyes is lethal too, turning Yeosang’s insides to mush and his limbs to jello, and he can’t think of anything he wants more right now than for Hongjoong to utterly wreck him on this very bed with Wooyoung watching on.

“I like — like being good a-and hearing that I’m doing well.” Yeosang slips his hand around Hongjoong’s. He slowly tugs it upwards, guiding the man’s hand to his neck and measuring his reaction the entire time with wary eyes. Hongjoong seems to forget what breathing is for a moment, and when he finally does breathe again, it’s merely a sharp and painful inhale of air because Yeosang is closing Hongjoong’s own fingers around his neck and blinking at him with wide and innocent eyes. “Being choked feels really nice too. And I want Wooyoung to watch… to watch you ruin me.”

Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around his neck, and Yeosang knows that his words have a visceral effect on the man just by that reaction. He also feels the way Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants, right against the curve of Yeosang’s ass, and that brings a swell of pride to his chest.

“Do you want to ruin me, hyung?” He asks, batting his lashes for good measure, and fuck, it’s so worth it. It’s so worth it because Hongjoong growls in response and pushes Yeosang down so that he’s flat on the bed once more.

“Fucking hell, Yeo, how can you be so — holy fuck, you’re so perfect.” Hongjoong maps a path from the tip of Yeosang’s nose down to the collar of his shirt with his lips, leaving a wet trail behind, and once he reaches the space hidden behind Yeosang’s shirt, he uses two fingers to tug the material down just enough to expose more of the milky skin underneath. Yeosang doesn’t have time to ask what he’s doing despite the confusion rushing through him because Hongjoong latches his lips around the spot, teeth nipping at the skin until red blooms under his touch. And god does it feel euphoric to be marked by Kim Hongjoong, to be claimed by him and wanted by him, and Yeosang is certain that all reason will leave his body before Wooyoung even gets involved.

Hongjoong chooses that opportune moment to pull back. First, he admires the way Yeosang’s chest heaves, the way sweat beads his brow and causes his hair to cling to the skin there, and the way Yeosang already somehow looks so fucked out and beautiful that it’s unimaginable. He weaves his hands down the expanse of Yeosang’s chest to catch hold of the hem. Ever so slowly, Hongjoong tugs upwards, and it’s so painstakingly prolonged that Yeosang loses his patience before the shirt even reaches his sternum. He yanks the fabric from Hongjoong’s grasp and pulls it up over his head on his own, throwing it off to the side haphazardly without even bothering to check where it falls. He knows how to play Hongjoong so well, just what he needs to do to get under the man’s skin, and he does it with such ease that it’s laughable. Because the second Yeosang leans back to the bed and flutters his lashes up at Hongjoong, the leader is hissing through his teeth so loudly that the air comes out in a whistle.

Then he grips his hoodie but the hem and tugs it over his head, but he leaves the plain undershirt underneath on for the time being as he twists around and catches hold of his phone. Yeosang’s arousal deepens as he watches Hongjoong tap furiously at the screen. Then he has an idea that is probably far too risky but also far too alluring to pass up on.

“H-Hyung, could you…” Yeosang loses the confidence to finish the question, hand stretched midway to Hongjoong’s. Still, Hongjoong pauses and looks directly at him. His dark eyes are glazed with lust and arousal, and they bear such a seriousness to them that Yeosang has to swallow around nothing to get his next words out. “Send him a picture,” he tries again, pushing more willpower in this time. “With your hand around my neck.”

“You’re unreal.” Hongjoong’s tone bears a quake this time, audible proof that Yeosang is having such an effect on the man, and the younger revels in it as he tugs Hongjoong’s hand down to the column of his throat.

That’s all the incentive Hongjoong needs to bend over the other, and his hand squeezes a little bit around his throat. Yeosang’s cock twitches between his legs, right where his hyung’s crotch rubs atop his, and the sensation is so heady and thrilling that Yeosang dares to rut against Hongjoong again. He pushes his tongue out just a little bit, catches the tip between his teeth, then shows off the somehow innocent for the camera when Hongjoong angles it above his face.

“For fuck’s sake, Yeo, I’m not gonna be able to wait for Wooyoung to drag his ass in here if you keep that up.” Hongjoong snaps the picture as quick as he can before tossing his phone off to the side in a huff.

“Keep what up?” Yeosang asks before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. The pair spend about two seconds staring at each other, Yeosang with a playful gleam to his gaze and Hongjoong with a more looming and dangerous one that has Yeosang’s stomach doing small backflips in anticipation. They’re interrupted by the sharp slam of a door somewhere in the dorm, and that’s followed by a skid and another smack of what sounds like a body on the wall. Another three seconds pass before the door to Hongjoong’s bedroom swings wide open, hitting the wall so hard that Seonghwa yells down the hall about disregard for common decency.

“Can you at least pretend to be civilized, Wooyoung? You don’t need to act like an animal just because you’re about to get boned! And keep it quiet this time!”

The newcomer comes in a blur of dark hair and tossed garments, and Wooyoung doesn’t even wait for the door to be closed completely before he’s stripping down to his underwear.

“I’m here! I’m here, hi, fuck, oh my god, I’m here. Why didn’t you get me sooner, hyung?” Wooyoung hisses as he shuts the door in a rush, flipping the lock before stepping further into the room.

“I didn’t tell him he’d just be watching,” Hongjoong whispers into the shell of Yeosang’s ear. It draws a blush out of the younger man, one that persists as he and Wooyoung make eye contact. Hongjoong drags the flat of his tongue across Yeosang’s cheek and presses a sweet row of kisses to the same line of skin a moment after. “Why don’t you break the news, darling?”

“Break the news? The fuck, hyung? Did you invite me just to kick me out?” Wooyoung protests.

“I told you to trust me, you brat,” Hongjoong counters, passing a half-hearted glare towards the younger with a small sigh. “You’re here to watch the show.”

“Well, I’ll do that fucking gladly,” Wooyoung huffs. He makes for the bed, moving to join Hongjoong on top of the mattress, but Hongjoong slings his legs over Yeosang’s body and steps onto the floor to block Wooyoung’s way instead. Yeosang scrambles to push himself up onto his elbows. With wide eyes, he glances between the pair, swallowing around nothing when Wooyoung rakes his eyes over Yeosang’s bare chest leading down to the bulge in his sweats. Hongjoong places a hand over Wooyoung’s chest, and slowly but surely, the leader backs him up until he stumbles back into Seonghwa’s desk chair. “Hyung?”

“I said you get to watch. Not touch.”

“What? Hyung, you can’t seriously—”

“Per Yeosang’s request. Can’t you do it for him, my baby?”

Wooyoung sucks his lower lip between his teeth and inhales sharply at the small pet name. Yeosang watches on with wide and curious eyes, from the way Hongjoong drags his hands over Wooyoung’s tan skin to the way Wooyoung’s hips tremble in an attempt to stay on the chair.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong hums when the younger doesn’t budge after a few moments. He slips back to the bed, still smiling from ear to ear as he moves, and he greets Yeosang with a wet and sloppy kiss. It’s a mess of teeth and spit, something inherently dirty in the best way possible, and Yeosang can’t hold back the light groan that rumbles through his throat when Hongjoong brings a hand down to palm at his erection. “You still want me to ruin you, darling?”

“Always,” Yeosang exhales against his lips. At that, Hongjoong leaves him with one more chaste kiss then dips lower, not wasting any more time before pulling something out from under his mattress. Yeosang’s body tenses in anticipation at the sight of it, and even more so when Hongjoong curls his fingers around the band of his sweats.

“Be as loud as you wish. Wooyoung is such a sucker for pretty moans,” Hongjoong teases, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Hyung!” Wooyoung protests in an instant, and he nearly bolts up from his chair. Hongjoong levels him with a glare though, the power dynamic slipping through and baring itself to Yeosang’s eyes, and it would taste a lie if he said he doesn’t want Hongjoong to dominate him in such a way as well.

“Today is all about Yeo, but I’ll be kind enough to let you touch yourself too. But you can only come after he does.”

Wooyoung doesn’t voice his protests, but Yeosang can see the disapproval in his eyes. There is no opportunity to dwell on it for long because cold air suddenly hits his crotch and he feels his cock spring loose without warning. He draws his legs together to hide himself, a sudden bashfulness taking over him within seconds. Hongjoong drops his clothing off to the side, and it hits the floor with a soft thud before Hongjoong is back between his legs and easing his knees apart.

“Don’t hide yourself, darling,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Yeosang’s knee. “You’re so beautiful for us—” another kiss, this time higher on the inside of his thigh “—so precious and perfect. Next time I’ll let Wooyoung worship every inch of you, I promise.”

Next time. That insinuation has Yeosang preening, hips canting upwards towards Hongjoong’s body, and the older man stills him with a deftly placed palm on his cock.

“A-Ah, hyung,” Yeosang chokes out. The pressure increases a bit, drawing another louder moan from Yeosang’s lips. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to spread his legs once more, although this time he makes sure to press them wider than before, and Yeosang has never felt more exposed in his life. Hongjoong is still kissing a path up his bare leg when he reaches for the bottle of lube. The click of the cap sends a jolt through his nervous system, cock twitching weakly on the vee of his hip.

“Hm, are you that excited, baby? You’re doing so well already. Wooyoung always complains about how slow I am when we do this.” Yeosang can do nothing but blink down at where Hongjoong is perched between his legs. Wide eyes meet his and maintain a steady sense of eye contact even as he pours some lube onto his fingers. “Am I going too slow for you, Yeosang?”

“A… a little bit,” Yeosang admits, shifting his elbows on the mattress.

“But you’re doing so well for us, darling. Being so good and patient, hm? What more could you want?” Hongjoong trails a finger from the head of Yeosang’s erect cock down to the base. Even the slight touch has Yeosang whimpering in need, and he tries to rut his hips up into the older’s hand, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll ruin you good and nice, okay?”

“Please,” Yeosang pants. Hongjoong traces down further with his lubed fingers, using his index finger to rub small circles around Yeosang’s hole. With his other hand, he takes hold of Yeosang’s cock, then without warning, he encircles the entirety of his member in the wet heat of his mouth. “Oh m-my god, hyung!” Yeosang throws his head back against the bed. His back arches painfully with the sensation, but Hongjoong doesn’t let up until his nose brushes Yeosang’s crotch. It is vastly impressive but Yeosang is far too engulfed in the feeling of Hongjoong’s mouth around his length to think too much about it. What he does know is that Hongjoong takes him all the way to the back of his throat without gagging in the slightest, and Yeosang wouldn’t call himself small by any means, so if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed, he isn’t sure what could top it.

Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut as Hongjoong ravishes his cock, taking in the feeling of the man’s tongue tracing along the underside of his length. Hongjoong certainly sucks dick like it’s his last meal on earth and his only purpose in life. Though the number of blowjobs Yeosang has received are few and far between, he knows this is going to ruin all blowjobs in the future for him unless Wooyoung is the one to give them. Hongjoong keeps circling that index finger around his rim. It’s teasing and prodding, like he’s trying to get Yeosang to cave and beg for it, but Yeosang is too lost in the heat of Hongjoong’s mouth to even think to ask for it. Ironically, it’s Hongjoong who grows impatient as time passes on, and he at last slips one finger past Yeosang’s tight ring and buries the digit two knuckles deep in him.

Yeosang blindly reaches down to grab Hongjoong’s wrist. He desperately tries to push his finger deeper, to prod further and find that elusive spot that feels oh so good, but Hongjoong keeps him from doing so. The leader slips off his cock with a lewd pop, leaving a trail of spit to dangle between his lips and the head of Yeosang’s cock. The effort of having Yeosang so deep for such a long period of time shows on his face: his eyes are a bit puffy and red around the edges, tears glisten in his waterline, and the tip of his nose gleams just a little brighter now. Yeosang could get drunk off the sheer sight of him like this.

“Be patient, darling,” Hongjoong reminds him as he pushes Yeosang’s hand away from his own. “You’re so tight that I wanna spend some extra time prepping you, okay?”

And yes, Yeosang is touched by the gesture in the very least but he’s also quite annoyed because he wants Hongjoong deeper and deeper with each passing second. He only gets part of his wish when Hongjoong descends back on his leaking erection, scooping up the trail of precum and saliva with the flat of his tongue and diving back down on him. Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts, Yeosang thinks that having his dick sucked by Kim Hongjoong is a wholly spiritual experience.

That point is proved further when Hongjoong pushes a second finger into his hole and gently settles it into his heat without moving for several seconds. Then, he twists his digits to the side and begins to fuck those two fingers in and out of Yeosang’s tight ring as slowly as possible. That has Yeosang’s moan devolving into choked mewls and whimpers, and his thighs tremble under the repetitive double stimulation that never stops even for a second.

Hongjoong has a talent at taking people apart it seems because he does it with Yeosang so easily that the younger is already seeing stars without having come a single time yet. Wooyoung is thoroughly enjoying the scene before him with rapt attention, and for once he actually remains rather quiet as he watches on, aside from the occasional moan and groan. The feeling of Wooyoung’s stare firmly planted on his body, from his face down to where Hongjoong’s face meets his crotch, leaves Yeosang feeling even more light-heated. He’s fairly confident that this with either send him spiraling into unknown territory or he will just straight up pass out after coming once.

There is no time to worry about those minute details in the coming moments: Hongjoong works a third digit into his hole, and when he does, he pulls off Yeosang’s tortured cock with a lopsided grin.

“Isn’t he so good and pretty for us, Woo baby?”

“Y-Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung answers quickly.

“Are you getting close, angel?” Despite Hongjoong’s stare being directed at Yeosang, the latter is vaguely aware that the question is meant for Wooyoung, but still, he nods a few times for good measure. That draws a laugh from Hongjoong’s chest. The noise resonates in Yeosang’s body, leaving him with a steady thrum of pleasure, and Hongjoong speeds up the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of Yeosang’s hole. “You look so heavenly like this, Yeosang. Panting and mewling as I fuck your hole with just my fingers. You’re so desperate for something bigger, aren’t you?”

Yeosang is losing control over his own inhibitions and slipping into a place he rarely goes.

“Y-Yes, yes, hyung, I’m — want more. Want more, please, give me more,” he babbles back, too lost to think about piecing full sentences together. Hongjoong is quick to pick up on the shift, especially in the way that Yeosang’s body turns to jello in his touch and becomes fully pliant under him. The leader snakes a hand up Yeosang’s side and finds one of Yeosang’s own hands on the bed. He laces their fingers together, clasping tight at the younger’s hand while offering a sweet and gentle smile.

“Hyung has you, darling,” he murmurs. “I promise.” It’s the reassurance Yeosang needs to let go, and he lets himself rut down on Hongjoong’s fingers. They find a rhythm like that — with Yeosang’s half-hearted and shaky bounces and Hongjoong’s timely thrusts — and each jab to his prostate has Yeosang crying out for more. He wants to hold off, wants to make it last longer, come while Hongjoong is balls deep inside him, but Hongjoong seems determined to draw at least one orgasm out of him before they go any further.

And that’s exactly what he does.

Less than three minutes later, Yeosang has his free hand wrapped around his shaft as Hongjoong fucks into his hole with three fingers and a sense of reckless abandon. It’s purely euphoric, and the quick jabs to his prostate are what sends him fully over the edge. Come spills over his hand, coating his knuckles and fingers in the sticky white substance, and Yeosang lets the steady jerks of his arm come to a rest. Hongjoong, however, just continues to pump his fingers in and out of Yeosang’s hole, not waiting for the man to recover before he is back to toying with his prostate.

“Hyung, t-too much, ah — ah, hyung, I can’t!” It is a delicious bit of overstimulation, and one that leaves Yeosang exhausted and panting for air. Hongjoong stops before it begins to hurt thankfully, slipping his fingers out of the younger before mapping a path with his lips up to Yeosang’s neck.

“Are you with me, darling?” He hums into the crook of his neck. Small love bites enunciate the words, and Hongjoong drags his tongue over each little mark he paints on Yeosang’s skin.

Yeosang honestly feels like he is floating on a different plane of existence. He doesn’t process any of what Hongjoong said, only the touches and cool sensation of air hitting the path of spit Hongjoong left on his chest. It’s concerning enough to make Hongjoong sit back and look Yeosang directly in the eye.

“Yeosang, baby, are you with me?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, hyung. I’m — I’m here, yes,” Yeosang replies this time as Hongjoong pulls him out of the state of delirium.

“What’s our color, doll?” Rather than responding, Yeosang preens at the name Hongjoong calls him, a lopsided smile covering his lips.

“I like that, hyung. Can you — can you call me that again please?”

“I need your color first, Yeo. Is it too much? Do we need to stop?” Hongjoong cradles the younger’s face in his hands, caressing the soft skin of his cheeks and trying to make the younger look him in the eye. Even the smallest touch sends Yeosang spiraling, like he’s swimming through dark water and can’t figure out what��s going on around him.

“I don’t want to stop. I’m… I’m okay,” Yeosang insists through a nod. “I just need a few minutes to recover a bit. ‘m still green, I promise. I’m too — t-touch is too much right now.” Hongjoong nods and retracts his hands from the visual’s face, and Yeosang instantly inhales a deep breath of air like he’s been starving for it all this time.

“Have you come yet, Woo baby?” Hongjoong shifts his focus over to the other man in the room, and Yeosang follows his stare over to land on where Wooyoung sits. Said man shakes his head quickly, fingers loosely wrapped around the base of his cock. “Can you last a little while longer?”

“Y-Yeah, of course, hyung.”

That has Hongjoong smirking again, and the leader slips off the bed to stand up straight.

“Good because I’ve changed my mind,” he hums, stepping closer to where Wooyoung sits. He steps around the back of the chair. Yeosang makes brief eye contact with the man as he lays his hands down on Wooyoung’s shoulders, eyes glinting a bit under the fluorescent lights. “Yeosangie is going to ride your pretty little cock, and I…” Hongjoong curls his fingers around Wooyoung’s jaw and shifts the younger to look at him. He pushes two digits past Wooyoung’s lips, pressing down so hard on his tongue that Yeosang can hear the way Wooyoung gags around him. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth just the way you like. Understood?”

Wooyoung mumbles around Hongjoong’s fingers, taking them deeper into his mouth without complaint, and that seems to be answer enough with the way Wooyoung blinks up at his hyung through his lashes.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong praises before pushing his fingers further down Wooyoung’s throat. “Yeosang, darling, take your time. There’s no rush, okay? Woo could sit here with my hand in his mouth for hours and be satisfied.”

Yeosang spends the next several minutes just observing the scene before him. It’s oddly euphoric to simply stare at them in this state, Wooyoung still seated in that chair and Hongjoong standing behind him with an arm curled around the front of his body. Wooyoung seems to be working his tongue over Hongjoong’s fingers based on the dripping trail of saliva that pools at the corners of his lips every few minutes. And Hongjoong was correct: Wooyoung seems perfectly content like that, happily lavishing the older’s fingers as Hongjoong cards his other hand through Wooyoung’s dark hair.

By the time Yeosang finally pulls himself to his feet, his legs are somewhat wobbly and shaky, but he drags himself to where Wooyoung is seated with little issue. While his own cock has softened down to a semi-hard state, Wooyoung is still rock hard and twitching between his legs, hands clasped tight around the arms of the chair. Yeosang drops himself to Wooyoung’s lap without warning, and it startles the man so badly that he bites down hard on Hongjoong’s fingers. Hongjoong takes it without complaint, only letting out a soft hiss and yanking Wooyoung’s hair until the younger moans around his hand.

“Are you feeling alright, doll?” Hongjoong leans over Wooyoung’s head to get in Yeosang’s space. The visual greets him with a quick and daring kiss, then places both hands atop where Wooyoung’s sit on the armrests.

“Perfect as can be.”

Hongjoong smiles into the kiss. He pulls off too soon for Yeosang’s liking, but Yeosang understands why he does so after a moment because the leader slips his fingers out of Wooyoung’s wet mouth and takes to stripping himself of the rest of his clothes like the rest of them. In the break of touching from Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung finally look at each other — Yeosang with teeth sunk deep into his lower lip, and Wooyoung with eyes glazed in lust.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Wooyoung admits after a second.

“Well, you don’t have to wait any longer,” Yeosang replies with a smile before taking Wooyoung’s face into his hands. Their lips meet in a shy kiss at first, one that is testing and exploring the waters around them before they let themselves get caught up in the thick air of arousal in the room. Wooyoung shifts his hands to Yeosang’s delicate hips. He presses his thumbs to the pale skin there with enough force to bruise, but the pressure is heady and delicious in Yeosang’s mind.

Yeosang blindly fumbles around between his legs in search of Wooyoung’s cock, and once he finally has a hold of it, he pushes up on his knees to make space for Wooyoung to slip his cock between the cleft of Yeosang’s ass. They both release a shaky sigh into each other’s mouths, and Yeosang is ready to fully drop his hips on Wooyoung’s cock if not for Hongjoong stopping him at the last second.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, darling, you need more lube.” Hongjoong disappears behind his back, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to see what he’s doing until he feels something cool hit his backside. His whole body jolts forward against Wooyoung, hands latching onto the younger’s shoulders as the chilly lube slips lower. That feeling thankfully doesn’t last long because Wooyoung presses back into Yeosang’s hole with much more ease this time. Yeosang sinks down onto his heels once more, taking the younger’s cock deeper and deeper until Wooyoung’s thighs are flush with his ass.

He looks up from Wooyoung’s chest, intent on kissing the man under him, but Hongjoong has occupied his mouth in the meantime. And if Yeosang thought seeing Wooyoung with fingers between his lips was a sight to behold, the image of him with a cock filling his mouth is even better. So good in fact that Yeosang goes a little breathless at the sight. Hongjoong has a hand wrapped around the back of Wooyoung’s head, tilting the younger towards his crotch where Wooyoung slurps messily around his member with no shame. Hongjoong coos soft praises down at the man all the while, and it spurs Yeosang to start moving his hips. He desperately wants to hear that praise as well, he wants them to tell him that he’s doing a good job and being so good for them. He is so needy for it that he works his thighs as hard as he can, bringing a pleasant burn to the muscles.

Yeosang’s erratic movements have Wooyoung releasing a litany of moans around Hongjoong’s cock, hands fumbling to grasp at his hips so he can buck up into Yeosang’s tight heat with little sense of rhythm. There’s no real point in trying to find a rhythm with Wooyoung, Yeosang learns that quickly because every time he tries to build a steady pace, Wooyoung jerks up with a thrust that throws Yeosang off-balance. So, instead, Yeosang just focuses on his small bounces and grinding his hips down when there’s a break in Wooyoung’s thrusts. Wooyoung loses his control on Hongjoong’s cock soon as well, and his timed bobs turn into letting his jaw go slack so that Hongjoong can simply thrust into his mouth instead. The sounds in the room are purely erotic, too loud between the wet slaps of skin, Yeosang’s mewls, and Wooyoung’s gagged moans around Hongjoong’s member, but Hongjoong manages to be relatively quiet himself with only a few sporadic moans here and there.

“Look at you, doll.”

Yeosang cracks an eye open, panting through a whimper when he sees the way Hongjoong is currently staring at him.

“You’re doing so well for us. Look at him, Woo, look how good he is on top of you like this.” Hongjoong stretches his free hand out towards Yeosang. He reaches for the younger’s face, but Yeosang twists his neck at the last second and catches Hongjoong’s thumb between his teeth instead. He maintains a piercing stare with the leader as he sucks the digit into his mouth, effectively muting his noises. Hongjoong’s hips lose their rhythm, and he freezes with cock halfway down Wooyoung’s throat to just stare at Yeosang in absolute wonder for so long that Yeosang thinks he truly broke the man. Wooyoung slips off Hongjoong’s cock.

“Hyung,” he whines, tone so hoarse that Yeosang would be surprised if he could talk at all tomorrow.

“S-Shit,” Hongjoong exhales, and it’s the first time that Yeosang has seen the man’s composure break in the slightest since this started. That causes his chest to swell with pride, heady arousal filling his veins, and he squeezes hard around Wooyoung’s cock. It’s all the younger needs to come, apparently, because Wooyoung releases a startled yelp that is so loud that Hongjoong has to rush to muffle him with his cock before someone comes rushing to the door. Yeosang isn’t expecting to come as soon as he does, but he is quick to follow Wooyoung in coming, hot spurts of come painting Wooyoung’s stomach and Yeosang’s hands where they rest atop Wooyoung’s sternum. He can’t stop moving, nor does Wooyoung let him with the grip he maintains on Yeosang’s hips, thus the two of them ride out their orgasms together like that until their bodies give out to the pleasure.

Yeosang collapses forward, smearing the cum between their bodies further as he drops his head to Wooyoung’s right shoulder. Hongjoong is still working hard to come himself, and Wooyoung returns to his senses enough to assist him. Yeosang can only watch on from where he’s perched. Every muscle in his body aches and burns, but the lingering haze of his orgasms leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

“S-Shit, Woo, gonna come on you like this,” Hongjoong warns, fingers tightening around the man’s hair. Wooyoung pulls off his cock and replaces his mouth with a hand. He splays his tongue out before the head of Hongjoong’s dick, somehow managing to giggle as he strokes his hyung to completion. Hongjoong releases onto Wooyoung’s tongue and face, and Wooyoung takes every last drop until he’s milked Hongjoong dry.

When he finally lets go of the man’s cock, Wooyoung turns back to Yeosang, twisting a hand through his hair and pulling his face up until they’re eye level, then he plants his lips atop Yeosang’s. The come is still there, sticking to his face and tongue, but Yeosang sinks into the kiss without complaint. Wooyoung thrusts his tongue into the visual’s mouth. Hongjoong’s come is salty and warm, so bitter that Yeosang almost chokes on it, but Wooyoung fares much better, although that’s probably because he has a lot more practice swallowing come than Yeosang does. Yeosang takes it as best he can, swallowing every drop that Wooyoung pushes between his lips, and he even goes so far as to clean the come off Wooyoung’s face between soft kisses.

“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales, and he looks up to where Hongjoong stands beside them. Hongjoong seems to guess exactly what he wants with little trouble, bending at the waist to give him a sloppy kiss, and Yeosang hums into the touch.

“What about me?” Wooyoung whines the moment they detach, and Hongjoong has enough mercy to offer a kiss to him as well.

“I’ll give you more in the shower,” he promises after pecking the younger’s forehead. “I’ll go get the water running. You two come join when you’re ready, yeah?”

Hongjoong leaves the two of them there, still seated in that damn chair with Wooyoung’s softened cock deep in Yeosang’s ass. They don’t move right away, and frankly, Yeosang is more than okay with that because his body feels weightless and unreal at the moment.

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?” Wooyoung offers through a smile. Yeosang only hums in response and tucks his head further into Wooyoung’s neck.

“I really… Wooyoung, I really like you. More than just sexually,” he admits, watching a bead of sweat trickle down the side of Wooyoung’s face. “You and Hongjoong both.”

“I like you both too, so I don’t see why that would be an issue.”

“Really?” Yeosang murmurs. And maybe it’s just the afterglow of the sex or the pent-up emotions rolling through Yeosang’s chest, but the corners of his eyes prick with unshed tears and his heart clenches in his chest.

“I thought it was obvious this whole time, yeah. And I know… I know Hongjoong feels the same even if he’s not always good at voicing his feelings all the time.” Yeosang squeezes his arms around Wooyoung’s midsection at that. A soft kiss lands on his forehead, then Wooyoung shifts their weight and tucks his hands under Yeosang’s thighs.

“Are you two dolts coming or not? I’m wasting hot water over here, hurry it the fuck up!”

“He loves us!” Wooyoung laughs into the shell of Yeosang’s ear, carrying him off to join Hongjoong in the bathroom before the leader complains again.

“Yeah, I think he does,” Yeosang murmurs more to himself than to anyone else.

﹎﹎﹎

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

************************

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months. Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.”

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically, and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland angst

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dontbesoweirdkira · 4 years

Note

Can you do a list of Mic being pure w/ his favorite student, (y/n) (like, he’s not afraid to show it), but she’s living with her friend and their family since she’s alone in Japan, and trying to keep it a secret. But when he finds out he’s just “ASDFGHJKLWHAT”, and he’s trying to help her with so many things, which soon evolves to “custody of child—”.

https://dontbesoweirdkira.tumblr.com/post/189518600672/hey-its-me-again-i-hope-you-are-still-open-for

A/N: I first would like to say I ALSO HAVE EATEN A NUCLEAR REACTOR...it tasted like radiation and strawberries yummy! Here’s your soft present mic X student. I hope you enjoy.

(I kind of made it where you aren’t fully living with your friend. Just bouncing from the streets to her house every so often if that makes sense??)Requests open

-So at first Mic didn’t notice anything was up...well no he did but he kind of brushed it off since he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

-Like when he asked for your parents signature but they were always somehow “out of town” or “working overtime”

-Or when he was going to offer you a ride home since it was pretty late but you just insisted to walk by yourself. And how you didn’t bother to call them and let them know you were going to be home a bit later than usual.

-He was always curious but like i said he didn’t want to cross a boundary and make you feel uncomfortable about something so personal. Besides how would he bring it up?

-”Hey Y/N, Why do you always conveniently “forget” to fill out your home address on forms?”

-Yeah see his dilemma?^ And like what if it was nothing and it really was just a convenience. It seemed better to leave it alone and not worry. You’d tell him if something was going on, right?

-Maybe one day you’re talking to your friend and He’s just around the corner so he overhears the conversation.

-”Hey Y/N, my family is going out of town for a few weeks. I- i would ask if you could come with so you’ll have some place to stay but we are going out of the county and you know how that is..”

-”Oh..um..Don’t worry, I'll figure something out.”

-”Are you sure? I- i can always leave the house key so you can have somewhere safe to go? But uhm, My cousin might come over every so often to watch a game or to check the house so be alert and make sure he doesn’t see you.”

-”N-No it’s okay, seriously. I’ll find somewhere to go, thank you though. ”

-”Well, I'll leave the key under the doormat if you change your mind, we’re leaving in the afternoon tomorrow so after then the place will be yours for a bit.I’ll text you later, ‘kay?”

-He’s shocked?? Like he thought maybe your at home life wasn’t good or maybe you were embarrassed about living in a low income place, but you were homeless?? And you’ve been staying with your friends every so often?? Why didn’t you tell him? Did you not feel comfortable? He’s in this weird state of shock and acknowledgement.

-For the rest of the school day hE Is cOnTemPlaTiNg oN WhaT tO Do. He’s not sure how he should bring it up or even if he should bring it up.

- *is casually being torn apart internally as he’s trying to teach english*

-*dEeP sPaCe STarE while he is standing at the board pointing to the sentence structures*

-”Sensei, are you oka-”

-”IMTHINKINGASHARDASICANTOFIGUREOUTASOLUTIONDONTPRESSUREMEoKaY.”

-lolol but once classes are over he taps you on the shoulder and asks if he could walk with you home for a bit. You visibly nervous, you reject and say “Umm It’s all right Mr.Hizashi, you’re busy and I don't want you to take up any of your time plus it’s late and I'm tired and i have to go and-”

-”Y/n...You don’t have to make up excuses, I know you don’t have anywhere to stay.”

-stopping in your tracks, your eyes went wide and you faced him

-”I heard you talking to that friend this morning.”

-M-mr.Hizashi I can explain-”

-cutting you off once again he begins “Hey, you don’t have to do any of that. It’s your business. But I don’t want you to just roaming around or staying anywhere alone anymore, okay? If you would like, I have an extra bedroom at my house, you can stay there until we get everything sorted.”

-”No..Mr.Hizashi...It’s okay..I’ll be okay, I’ve always have. Plus you have been such a great teacher and already went out of your way more than what I could have asked...staying with you would be too much.”

-”Y/n, it’s okay to ask for help. I seriously don’t mind. At least stay for the night so you can eat and have a roof over your head, then in the morning we’ll figure something out.”

-You hesitantly accepted but you told him that you’d be out of his hair as soon as the next morning hit.

-That night going to his house was...nice to say the least. The guest bedroom that he had was bigger than your friend’s kitchen and nicer than any place that you’ve stayed at. It really was heaven. So warm and cosy. There was a nice sense of nostalgia and security, something you’ve haven’t felt in years. His home was somewhere anyone would want to live in their whole lives.

-”Once you’ve settled down, you can come to the dining room. I ordered some take out, I figured you’d be hungry.”

-For a moment you sat on the fluffy bed and just took in everything. God was so good to you right now and honestly you thanked him. Although it frustrates you to think that this would only last for a second and you’d be back on the streets, roaming around. Yeah yeah, Hizashi wants to help you but you knew soon he’d get tired of your presence in his house…..they all did.

-Taking a deep breath, you went to go meet hizashi in the dining room.

-He welcomed you then motioned you to sit down at any of the seats at the table. “Oh hey, there’s miss america. You may sit anywhere you’d like. And help yourself to the food here.”

-You sat down across from him, only not to look at him just to have your eyes on the empty plate in front of you. You didn’t really touch any of the food actually or even make a sound. You weren’t trying to be rude or anything, you just..there was a lot on your mind and facing hizashi seemed difficult.

-”Are you okay Y/N? I hope sushi is okay. I- i meant to um ask what you would like to eat first. I’m sorry.”

-”No I’m sorry for-,” twiddling your thumbs for a moment you then looked towards the blonde fellow “Mr.Hizashi..My parents left when I was around three but they left me with my aunt. She was a very good person and took good care of me but she got very ill...and um you know. At first I was living in her apartment but i couldn’t pay for it when it was time for rent so..I stayed with my friend for a couple of months. But her parents kind of got tired of me staying there and it was this thing, so I lied and told them I found a family member to stay with. And um up until now I've been staying on the streets. Sometimes having a sleepover once every so often.”

-”Y/n…”

-”I didn’t tell you because I was so scared… I didn't know what to do and I really really don’t want to go in foster care or anything so I just thought I was better off keeping it from you. But I guess it backfired anyways because you still found out haha….I’m sorry Hizashi. I hope you don’t think of me any less. I- it was a tough situation and all and you know how that is...”

-He immeadately stood up, walked over to you and hugged you. It was with So mUcH compassion and genuine love. You really was his favorite student no scratch that HIS FAVORITE HUMAN i swear he would end the world for you.

-He gave you a little cheek kiss and was like “I’m not letting anyone put you in foster care and I'm sure as hell am not kicking you out even if i have to take custody of you.”

-”w-wait what? wAiT wHaT???”

-”KID IM fucking keeping you here safe with me even if i’m in court all year. We are going to make this work somehow, you aren’t doing this alone anymore. Do you understand?”

-YeAh hEs cRyInG iM cRyinG yOuRe CryInG wE aLl CryinG

-BRO YOU ARE UGLY CRYING NOT NO SOFT CUTE CRY LIKE HAHA YOU SOUND LIKE A WALRUS TRYING TO SAY ‘t-tH-Th-HaNKy-yyy-YoUUU-UOi mR hIzZaShIiIi”

-He whipes the tears of your cheeks and ruffles your hair

-”it’ll be okay Y/N, I promise.”

-I swear he’s like rushing to the computer and trying to figure out how to adopt you.

-”HoW tO aDoPt a ChILD wHen You aRe a hEro.”

-There's an actual wiki-how about it???????

-No but he’s really doing his research and is visiting lawyers trying to find the right one. He has them immediately looking into everything and making sure that his chances of getting you is as high as possible.

-He’s up late at night on the phone, emailing, and writing

-He has pounds and pounds of evidence that he is the most fit person to take care of you. He is not playing whatsoever

-He already let’s you decorate and he even gives you an office so you can do work or whatever. He most definitely brought you clothes and stuff for your room.

-When the courts and everything finally approves it after a long year of fighting, he picked you up and spun you around.

-”What did I tell you?!? I was not going to lose you and i made sure of that. And starting today and the rest of forever you’ll never have to be alone.”

-BonUs

-100% takes you out somewhere super fun and nice.

-”Wait we must take a selfie, The first day we are legally Father-daughter!”

-The most chaotic duo now, Everyone at school knows he adopted you and like he won't let anyone forget it.

-MISSSSSS AMERICAAAAAAA, is now, MISSSSSSS HIZAAAAASSSHHHHHIIIIIIII.

-”WHEEEEERRREEEE ISSS MYYYY LITTLE MUSHROOM???”

-”YYYYYY/NNNNN YOU LEFT YOUR BAG IN MY MINIVAN.”

-He has a minivan now. It also has a ‘Yeah I’m a soccer dad and i’m proud’ sticker on it.

-He joined the PTA

-HE IS SOOO BIASED I SWEAR NO ONE IS ABOVE YOU IN HIS CLASS AND NO ONE BETTER SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT

-Always hugging you and giving you little cheek kisses when he sees you in the halls

-Made a titled track called “Now a dad”

-he most definitely wears ‘Best Dad’ shirts now. He also is in a ‘Single dad’s in Japan’ group now

-”I think we look just alike, Don’t we Y/N?” you both smiled and posed at the same time

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flufflebones · 3 years

Text

some more fun hcs about delphine [mc 1.... closest 2 my heart since ive used her in various settings for a While]! it’s a little long so im slapping it under a cut but its all sfw and all very much in good fun.

you know, mostly. i only really got two headcanons down and one is brief/about michael and the other is about pets in the devildom

- can and will fight michael do you think they saw the angel/anni event and were ok with it? yeah? no! just going to kick him hard enough in the shin to....... probably bust their own foot but its FINE

- has an approximate accumulated f*ckton of devildom native and possibly (definitely) magical pets

[The list:

Sosig / Sausage - Hellhound - Gift from Beelzebub!:

A beast of considerable size and [reportedly] god awful temperament, bearing charcoal fur and the lingering [faint] scent of sulphur. More vulpine than canine, their frames are typically gaunt, with the flames that fuel their bodies licking out from the ends of their tails, their ankles and wrists [on their normal quadrupedal legs], the inner portions of their ears [leaving them at a disadvantage when it comes to hearing], their somewhat visible / open ribcage, and the corners of their mouth.

Despite this general introduction, hellhounds are wildly varied and have a number of breeds and variations in recent history, typically intended for one of three purposes.

Companionship - These hellhounds are typically smaller in stature and less sturdy, with a tendency to bond strongly to one or two masters [with some consideration/leeway for those close to their master: See- Cerberus]. Arguably the most docile of any class of hellhound, they are still dangerous if not raised correctly, and have a nasty bite. Though not a true classification and with no formal means of training a hound to do so naturally, some companion hellhounds serve as a psuedo service dog, heavily attuned to the needs and potential problems unique to their primary master. This isn’t to say that they are an alternative to service animals, or anywhere near as well trained, *of course*, but the devildom is hardly the safest place for a regular human realm animal; And sometimes, you’ve just got to work with what you’ve got.

Sport / Show - Typically very much breed standard. While raised to tolerate handling and grooming, these traditionally built hellhounds are temperamental at best and borderline terrifying when their willful nature comes in direct conflict with a demonic handler who bit off more than they can chew. Heavily regulated, and typically owned by the elite.

Protection - The devildom is dangerous, and nobody is questioning that. Demons with a knack for animal handling [or demons who can afford to hire someone skilled with animals, of course!] breed and train these creatures to guard many things; People, places, objects, etc. They’re typically territorial and hard to train as a rule, as one cannot allow for a beast such as this to be tempted by treats or good petting from *anyone*, yfm?

Sausage is a bit of a mixed bag. Born from protective stock and bought by Beelzebub after overhearing Mammon trying to convince Lucifer to get Delphine/my mc a pet [who lays eggs, we’ll get there, that he can sell for a massive profit]. Being the youngest present brother at the time, anything capturing his interest other than food is both welcomed and encouraged in an attempt to positively reinforce him to not put the devildom at risk of a famine.

Delphine unintentionally raised this brick house of a hellhound puppy into a sort of in-between of companion and protector, with him being very social, very sweet, and *fairly* defensive and willful if things aren’t going his way. He’s typically the one to step in most successfully to motivate her to move around [yes, moreso than the brothers!] and do her day to day tasks, and is probably the best way to find out if something’s wrong with her-- Past being able to just kind of drag her off due to their size differential, his general wit and ability to communicate his needs and wants have led to unexpected food deliveries, blankets spread over her shoulders, and human world medicines arriving a few days before she shows any real signs of illness that she can see.

He’s also spoiled as all get out. If you’re sharing a bed/couch/blanket/etc with her, you can bet Sausage is soon to follow. Sorry, Mammon! He loooves table scraps and is almost as bad as Beel when it comes to eating things he shouldn’t [and looking too cute to be scolded about it too heavily].

Rocky - ... That’s just a rock, dude. - Gift from Belphegor:

It’s really hard to tell if Belphegor is messing around when he presents Delphine with a rough hewn black rock bearing two googly eyes, a pair of hilariously out of place crystalized horns, and a pair of similarly out of place crystal wings, but I swear on all things unholy, he’s doing it for a reason.

Though not... Really sentient, initially, Rocky just needs a good, possibly year long charging. Soulstones are sort of... Weird, in that they are inert and lifeless for as long as they remain with the boulders from which they are harvested. but typically-- After being exposed to a single party’s magical runoff and signature for a year or so-- absorb enough energy to come to life, their coloration and mineral makeup adjusting to fit the nature of the being they owe their life to. Delphine’s takes the form of a celestine and blue goldstone peryton; A winged stag. With crystalized wings and antlers, Rocky would almost look majestic; If it weren’t for the fact that the googly eyes have remained a feature that she has never been able to figure out how to remove. Soulstones are typically quiet observers, not requiring active care to thrive but delighting in contact [especially immediately post spell casting or magic use]. They are attuned to the needs of their magic bound masters, and typically exude an air of-- if not positive-- reassurance.

In Delphines Little Canon Divergence Corner, it’s likely that rocky coming into her care is one of the first of many attempts at reconciliation that Belphegor makes with her post chapter 16; And it honestly really, really sets him back, like, even when she returns to the human realm. Forgotten but included in her luggage, it’s a few weeks into her settling down on Earth that she finds the dinky little stone, and an overload of magic-- Possibly emotionally sourced, possibly due to unresolved tension/a discussion that never got to happen because he was being a little jerk about it-- sets off the transformation, which occurs overnight.

She recognizes the little stone figure when it approaches her in the morning, and one of her first texts about it is a simple, succinct “WTF” + an image attachment sent to Belphegor, specifically in the dead of night with the intention to wake him.

Henry “Pogchampion” 6.0, 7.0, and 8.0, A.K.A: “Pip! Minette! Beans!” - Infernal rats - Gift from Leviathan:

A note: If you don’t care for rats or you’re more familiar with their popular association with illness or disease/classification as vermin, and are only capable of thinking of them in that context, I don’t care. I am specifically talking about rats in the context of them being pets-- And good pets, at that. If you want to talk about how much you wish they were dead/didn’t exist, thats not my problem. Just don’t do it on a post discussing them as a pet, or I will block you!

Anyway!

Leviathan is probably the most appropriate person for them to get pet recommendations from, but her asking never winds up a necessity; When he finds out that he’s got another pet enthusiast in the house, he’s *all* about it, and when he finally [very unsubtly] weasels his way into the information he needs, he gets them to come along with him to what’s supposed to be a routine supply trip for Henry that just *CAN’T* be accomplished online. It’s a trip to *a* shop, but not what she’s expecting, especially when she gets to meet a handful of very curious, very playful, larger than a medium sized dog mice and rats. These guys are very much pests turned pets, with a small niche of hobbyists raising them and breeding them for temperament and overall health and disease resistance. Very social and very intelligent, they tend to thrive best in groups if one is not devoting all of their time to them as an individual. The type Leviathan recommends are on the smaller side, with cloudy, soft fur and sweet temperaments. And massive teeth, nubby horns, spade tipped tails, and very large, typically bony or leathery wings.

Levi is... Probably the one who wanted them, really. They get a little big, and tend to like to roughhouse, and they chew like nobody’s business-- And while he can’t risk his figures or merch or other Otaku Trappings or wires for everything in his room, he *CAN* risk Delphine’s. Plus, Sausage needs a friend, right? Or three?

They pick up three, all of whom are sisters, and all of whom on paper are named Henry “Pogchamp”, 6.0, 7.0, and 8.0, since he *is* technically the one paying for them and at least gets to do that much. Even when they start being named Pip, Minette, and Beans, in casual conversation, he can still hold on to the fact that they’ll always be Henries in his heart of hearts.

Sausage loves them to bits, for the record, but their interactions tend to be supervised/very brief even without the worry of him being able to harm any of them due to the general (and very appropriate) ill advisement of large predators interacting with smaller prey animals. It’s cute, sure, but it can be dangerous, and Delphine (and Levi, to a lesser extent, because he’s using the excuse of them being friends to keep Lucifer off of his ass for adding another animal to her menagerie) isn’t about to risk it.

Sweets - .... A black cat? That glitters? - Gift from Satan and Asmodeus:

Small, sleek, and independent, Sweets is probably the pet people see the least of all of Delphine’s little collection-- Though that doesn’t mean she’s not well loved. A pet project between Satan and Asmodeus, Sweets isn’t *technically* a cat; They’re a being comprised of shadow, somewhat similar in nature to a familiar without the connotation of them technically being a demon slash demonic. Who just so happens to have been enchanted to appear like and generally function in their day to day life as a cat. That sparkles, the only concession Satan was willing to grant Asmodeus in return for his help obtaining the materials necessary to create the little beast (and in return for him taking the heat when Lucifer inevitably got pissy about it). Given its unique nature, very little is actually known about the little being of shadow past basic care and assumptions based on its generally feline behavioral patterns. The rats scare the hell out of it, however, and it tends to be out of sight except when called, hiding in shadows and only occasionally emerging on its own.

... Oh, and be careful. Satan hasn’t told Del yet, but it seems that the belly rubs this shadowy kitty offers tend to bite off more than they can chew if they’re not careful. Asmodeus thinks its horrible. Who wants a pet with a massive maw of teeth in their stomach? Satan desperately wants to use this quirk in Sweets’ nature for a prank. Delphine already knows, but is playing dumb for the sake of faking surprise when its formally revealed.

Elysia - Gilded Crow - Gift from Lucifer and Mammon:

SO, i”M going to keep this short because i’ve been writing this for several hours at this point on and off and i really really want to be ready for my dinner when its ready, but!

Elysia is a sort of... Special circumstance. Literally. Devotees to Mammon-- And yes, there *are* people who think he’s a legitimate demon lord, the only people really allowed to treat him like garbage are his brothers and a few choice officials too strong to be eradicated as any lesser demon might have been-- with a background in magical augmentation specifically enchanted this line of crows to reflect that which is most valued by their Lord; Riches. They’re technically not legal due to their status as something of an organic money generator, but a select few in a small flockare kept under the watchful eyes of the Demon Lord and his immediate family, and those who have been trusted by his family members. This is where Lucifer comes in.

Understandably, Mammon is not allowed to have care of his flock, though he certainly wouldn’t be the worst at caring for them. He’d just also be selling their products illegally, and you can’t have that!

Elysia wears a small enchanted band comprised of dull, unimpressive iron-- The kind of thing Mammon would neither notice nor have interest in. This band is enchanted, and serves as a sort of storage space for any of Ely’s dropped organic components. Talons, feathers, eggs-- Everything is automatically absorbed into the band, rendering the bird borderline useless outside of being a gorgeous pet, and a gigantic nuisance.

Lucifer hates to admit it, but he really is a fan of the large, intelligent, gorgeous creature; And Mammon thinks it’s really funny to teach her to take shiny things (like grimm, loose jewelry, gum wrappers, etc), even past the sentimental value of the bird itself and what her kind represents to him.

Delphine adores her, too, and is about as good an influence on her as Mammon is-- Teaching her to speak, in some capacity, simply by repeating certain words or phrases to herself as she does things in the day to day, especially during feeding time. It’s all fun and games, until this pretty golden bird calls Lucifer a ‘motherf*cker’ while she thinks he’s out of the room while visiting with Diavolo for an update on her health.

#long #obey me #obey me mc #obey me mc headcanon #obey me headcanons

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writinginthesparetime · 4 years

Text

Tic toc - one shot

pairing: Ot9; idol!Sehun x staff!y/n

Tags: workplace ; y/n being in a relationship ; Sehun has a little crush

genre: fluff; little angst; super fluff

A/n: I recently fell for Exo. Needed to write something about my bias eheh

Btw happy comeback! And happy holidays!

—————————————————————

Silently, I went inside the dance practice room knowing the manager was inside to fill some papers with the staff.

It was already a month I got hired here as a make-up artist: it was my first job after finishing school, i was ready to learn, fresh, but being the youngest in the whole building wasn’t helping. The closest in age to me were the exo members their self. This ended up being awkward at the beginning, then lead to growing weird friendship. Well, kinda a relationship. It’s still me, who at the end of the day has to take off their makeup while they’re already napping on the chair.

I closed the door behind me and in that moment they started practising Tempo’s choreography. I got frightened by the sudden music and I squeaked. I quickly realised some of the guys where smiling at me through the mirror.

“Shit.” My cheeks turned red already.

“Y/n? Do you need something?” The manager approached me while holding some filers.

“Yes sunbae.” I bowed a little. “This is the list of next orders we need for our warehouse.” I gave him, with both of my hands, an envelope that he quickly took.

“Thank you y/n, kind as always.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled shyly. He then asked me to follow him through the room until we reached all the staff members.

My gaze dropped to the clock on the wall: I had 15 minutes to reach the restaurant and meet my boyfriend. If I managed to leave in a couple of minutes and run to take the metro, I’d arrive just in time.

I cursed myself for being too slow changing into the little tight red dress. I also re did my make-up, maybe an unnecessary step. Now I was wearing high fancy boots that marked every step and a long coat, ready to fly outside the building into the cold night of Seoul.

“Y/n I need a favour.”

“Sure.”

“Could you shoot the guys while dancing? Just a few song, nothing much.”

“Oh ... Sunbae, it’s not like I don’t want to, but I have an appointment after work. Is there anyone more qualified to do this?”

“Y/n don’t worry, they’ll be quick. You can do this, just sit still. Take this.” He gave me a camera definitely too heavy for me to hold. Music suddenly stopped and the boys were reaching water bottles to drink. I could see how tired they were.

“It will take just 5 minutes, we’ll be back soon.” The manager left with all the staff members leaving me and a sound technician behind.

“Y/n-noona! You came to see us dancing!” Kai run to me spilling some water.

“Not really.” We hugged for a little. Kai loved to call me noona whenever he felt sweet. No matter I was the youngest in the room.

“I got stuck at work, I should be outside already.”

“Stuck mmh?” Chanyeol came closer.

“I have a date tonight, do you think you can do this in one take?”

He winked at me and turned to the middle of the room. “Ya! Our y/n-nie got plans for the night! Let’s do this!”

I took off my coat leaving it on the table while sunbae was setting the camera.

I took it and quickly moved in front of the mirror wall, sitting exactly in the middle, shoulders pressed to the mirror. I crossed my legs carefully and adjusted the skirt.

I looked up and realised many eyes were on me.

“Y/n-noona, who is the lucky one?” Kai winked. Baek whistled.

“Y/n have mercy, someone here won’t sleep tonight.” Chen laughed, Sehun gave him a nudge.

“Boys, be good.”

I looked again at my watch, realising I was already so late. I pressed rec on the camera and the boys gathered up in the position. “Tempo” started again, the hardest part for me was not being able to dance or sing with them.

“Was it good?” Someone asked while I grabbed my phone.

“I have to text him.”

19.33 y/n: I’m sorry I’ll be late: I’m still at work. I’ll text you when i get out. I’ll try to be quick.

19.36 y/n: bae?

Songs went on, and so my texts.

19.41 y/n: bae? Im sorry i swear ill be quick

19.50 y/n: are we still in time for the reservation? Im starving! Wait for me bae!

“Is he texting you back?” Sehun laied on the mirror next to me looking at my screen. He wasn’t even sweating after dancing for so long.

“No, not really.” I said back, nervously laughing.

“Don’t worry y/n-ah, he can’t be mad. It’s so hard to be angry at you.”

“Wha-?”

I looked at him shocked. He snapped his fingers getting everyone attention. “We need to shoot the last one, and we are done. Sunbae prepare “The Eve” please.”

“Oh no.” I whispered covering my mouth.

That’s one of a few songs with a choreography that embarrass me every time. The slow hip thrust, lascivious gazes and the way they all became hotter in a couple of seconds.

First notes came, I swallowed my saliva and tried to focus while their eyes were on me. Actually, I knew they were all looking behind me, staring at each other on the mirror, but I felt being watched.

When the refrain came I just closed my eyes, too shy. And once I was able to open them again all of exo members were giggling at me. All the guys. ALL. They knew how shy I was. They knew the power of this song.

Suddenly the song hit me differently and harder, looking at some details: Suho’s arms, Sehun’s thighs, Kai’s grin, the power they all held. Everyone was doing something to me, my head started spinning.

“We need to take this one again sorry.” Sehun talked after the song ended. I moved on my place, suddenly the position wasn’t comfortable anymore. A weird hot feeling in my stomach started spreading.

I was so distracted by these new feelings I didn’t notice Sehun’s smirk. He was satisfied. I didn’t even realised my phone was buzzing inside my purse.

“Let’s be more powerful.” Chen said looking at his friends.

“And a step ahead please.” Everyone looked at Sehun.

The song started again and everyone seemed to be more engaged than before, using all their last energies.

They were one step closer to me now, and Sehun was directly in front of me. Less than two meters again, he was hip thrusting slowly. His eyes on me, and I was sure now he was really looking at me. I swallowed while fixing my skirt again, feeling suddenly too hot. He smirked.

His eyes, so dark now,were locked on me the whole choreography, I could feel his gaze never leaving me.

I felt so vulnerable. The hot feeling in my stomach now was getting stronger, I couldn’t help but squeeze my thighs together to get some relieve.

As soon as the last note ended I got up and left the camera on the table. I took the phone and I was surprised by all the messages.

19.52 bae: I cant believe this

19.58 bae: why are you always late? Ive been waiting you for so long! Im pissed

19.59 bae: ya! Text me ...

20.03 bae: where are you now?

20.05 bae: .....

20.06 bae: .....

20.07 bae: .....

20.08 bae: ... so?

20.10 bae: im leaving

“Shit shit shit shit.” I quickly wore my coat, already calling my boyfriend. I turned waving to the boys, ignoring their worried faces.

“Pick up please.” I opened the door with my shoulder still busy getting ready.

“Maybe you should fol-“ D.O. words were cut by my boyfriend’s voice on the phone.

“Y/n! Ya! You’re unbelievable!”

“Babe I’m so sorry, it’s not my fault, I couldn’t say no..”

“Sure. Always the same. It looks like you got 9 more boyfriends, who are more important than me. Should i get on the line?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t bother to come. Bye.” He hanged up. I froze, in the middle of the hallway. I didn’t know what to do. Maybe keep on desperately running and maybe he would be still in the restaurant? I tried calling, failing again and again. I was just ... frozen.

“Is everything fine?” Two big warm hands took mines, still holding the phone. I turned to Sehun’s worried face.

“Not really. He’s angry.” I said looking up at his eyes and then to the ceiling, hoping not to cry.

That was my first long relationship, we were together for more than 9 months. The first boy who noticed me, the first who held my hand to go to school. The first “i love you”.

“Then he doesn’t deserve you y/n-nie.” He whispered closing the distance between us with an hug.

He hold me tight, my head laid on his chest, his arms around me. One if his hands reached my hair and started massaging me gently.

“Ssh, everything will be fine y/n-nie. You’re too good.”

I didn’t even realised I was crying. I was sobbing so hard, my hands fisting his black hoodie’s hems.

“I am sorry.” I started bubbling.

“Don’t, we should be sorry, it’s our fault.” Sehun said patting my back lightly.

I stepped back, incredulous. “How could it be your fault?” And suddenly Sehun face got red.

“My fault...” He repeated shyly while I was wiping off the tears on my cheeks.

“Y/n?” Xiumin suddenly appeared behind Sehun’s tall figure. As soon as he saw my red puffy eyes he run to me pouting.

“Oh my girl, what happened?” He hugged me and tried to make me smile with his cute aegyo. He was the oldest yet he looked the youngest, and his pure kind soul was just one more thing to love him for.

“I lost my reservation at the restaurant.” I lied while looking at Sehun, hoping he’ll understand. He tilted his head a little, confused.

“Oh.” Sehun said quietly.

“I’m so hungry!” Baek exited the practise room screaming. All the EXO members behind him.

“Y/n is hungry too, she couldn’t make it to the restaurant.” Sehun surprised me for being strangely able to lie.

“Oh no y/n-nie.” This sounded like a chorus since all of them gathered together around me.

“I’ll make dinner for everybody.” D.O. proposed while taking my hand and gently hugging me. “Let’s go home.”

Sehun walked beside me, his hand on my lower back. “Let us treat you well.”

#exo imagines #exo do kyungsoo #exo suho #exo lay #exo sehun #exo chanyeol #exo kai #exo chen #exo baekhyun #exo minseok #exo #exo reactions #one shot #sehun x reader #sehun x you #fluff #lovely #friendship

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harryff · 4 years

Text

Sensory Overload

Your relationship Harry was relatively new less than year, over 6 months. A revelation during one of your dates he was into BDSM, you responded with interest. Harry was a patient Dom, with you he took his time to teach you all you needed to know to be a sub in general followed by being his sub. You almost regret saying that you were ready for Harry to hold nothing back, to have his way with you the next time.

It started the usual way undress get on your knees, followed by laying on his lap for spanks, today he bent you over to eat you from the back and when he felt that you were wet enough he added his fingers into the mix, you whimper and whine which resulted in more slaps to the ass telling you to be louder. You had been a bratty little sub earlier so instead of giving you what you wanted, he expected you to beg for it, make it up to him, and be a whimpering mess so he could have total control.

Somewhere during the process your mouth is around his cock you don’t even remember getting back on your knees but here you are, deep throating the hell out of Harry. Hand in hair guiding you to his pace. Utters of ‘good girl’ escape his mouth often as his head tilts back. His groans and moans make you even more wet. There was nothing like hearing him express himself during pleasure. The next thing you know you’re on your back and things were going good. Deep inside you teasing you bringing you to the edge then slowing down you were a blubbering mess. Until you felt the cold leather collar around your neck.

“Gotta teach yeh a lesson pet” he explains noticing your reaction. “Im sorry daddy” you apologize while you hold your legs apart as a good subby He leans down to kiss you before he straightens up, his hand on the collar, he slips his fingers between and pushes his cock deeper into you. He picks up his pace you feel an orgasm building once again. You moan in pleasure then there was the slap to the face. You’re on the verge of cumming but it takes you by surprise your hair is on your face so its not like Harry can really see your expression. He turns your face to the other side followed by another smack.

“Tell daddy you’re sorry” you can tell he’s reaching his climax too, but you can’t cum not until he tells you to. One time he didn’t let you so you’re hoping this was different “Im sorry daddy!” You scream it was all too much “Louder!” there was the third and final slap to the face “Sorry Daddy!” “Good girl cum on cum for daddy” and without a second to spare you release the fire burning in the pit of your stomach.

You wake up the next day next to Harry. Weren’t you supposed to discuss your experience post play? You didn’t even remember falling asleep. Harry was still asleep mouth ajar. You get out of bed and as expected your legs needed adjustment time. You drag yourself to the bathroom walk over to the toilet and pee, stand up to wash your hands when you glance at yourself in the mirror, your hands find themselves on your cheek why were they sore? You see a bruise on your neck and it hits you! You automatically tense up. Is this what it meant to be Harry’s sub? Before you delve deep into overthinking you shower. It feels like it brought you back to life. Although your hands couldn’t stay away from your face or neck.

Its not like the impact from the slaps were harsh or the neck too tight but they were also a shock to your body and had you not been submersed in sub mentality you would have shut it down. You examine your body, triggering memories of last night, the bruises were expected, but the slap, did you even like it? You walk into the room to find Harry already awake playing on his phone you smile and continue to walk into the closet.

“Yeh didn’t want to shower with me?” he asks sleep still laced in his voice, he pulls you into him and wraps his arms around you It shocks you, you were busy looking for a bottom to wear “oh no its not that you were sleeping” He was back to being his usual Harry not Dom harry He smiles and kisses your forehead “jus teasin let me go wash m’ass then” You blow him a kiss as he walks away.. -

The rest of the day goes without a hitch you also forget about the collar and slaps until you’re surrounded by Harry’s friends. A little get together and you were fine but the necklace Harry put around your neck was starting to irritate you. You play around with it swiveling it from side to side, but that wasn’t helping. You abruptly excuse yourself when it becomes too much and rush to the bathroom.

You take off the necklace and your hands shake you can’t help but scratch at your neck. It felt like the collar even though it wasn’t. It was lose and had a pendant on it.

You take several deep breaths this shouldn’t be a big deal. You know Harry meant no harm or ill intent. It was sensory overload last night. You didn’t have enough time to process the slaps nor the collar. When you look in the mirror you swear you can see the bruise from the collar even though you covered it with make up. Those damn slaps they were good? Bad? What were they? You need to cry so you bargain with yourself a little bit then you clean yourself up. When you finish you fan yourself and then smile at yourself in the mirror to see if it was convincing enough, you agonize over putting the necklace on but you do.

Before you can finish there’s a knock “Pet yeh alright?” you hear his voice Damn this man you think to yourself before you open the door “yea! I just had to pee” you go to brush past him but he’s posted on the door frame smirking “what?” you ask looking at yourself He shakes his head and takes a step forward “Yeh look beautiful pet” he compliments “Oh thanks we should probably go back” He reaches over and brushes your hair away. He wanted to see all of you and he did along with the scratches on your neck “yeh okay? whats wrong?” he asks reaching for your neck with both hands gently, concerned, examining the damage “having an allergic reaction?” “No it was just itchy” He looks at you with disbelief you’ve worn this necklace before it wasn’t itchy then. “Come on!” he says grabbing your hand

Without a word from you he excuses both of you from the get together. Your drive to his place is silent you’re nervous. Was he mad at you? Should you say something? This isn’t like the many times you decided to be bratty and he got mad this was different. You follow him into his home and watch as he gets ice cream from the freezer. He remembers that being your comfort food. He makes it just the way you like it. Gently he places the bowl down in front of you. It wasn’t fair he could read you like a book.

“Need yeh to talk to me” “Uh….” you go to scratch your neck and Harry reaches over to stop you before reaching around and removing the necklace “S alright we are supposed to talk about these things remember?” he rubs his thumb over your hand You look up to the ceiling and draw in a deep breath before you blow it out as tears form in your eyes. Truth be told you were afraid, afraid he would drop you and get another sub, one who wasn’t so weak minded. It was just a few silly slaps.

“Pet” he calls to you, gently he grabs your cheeks making you look at him. He knew you all to well you were getting too caught up in your head. “Its just me yea? I wanna know whats wrong” “Why’d you slap me?” you blurt out you wanted it to be a more controlled delivery but it was not. Shaky voice and all “It wasn’t supposed to be punishment pet I just wanted to awaken other senses in your body” he explains knowing where you were going with this You eat a spoonful of ice cream to calm you down before you respond. “No I know that…. but why? Is it something you like to do? Slap during sex?” “Did yeh not like it?” You pause and take in another deep breath “I don’t know it was like I couldn’t even process then the damn collar” “Why didn’t yeh say the safe word? We agreed!” “I know we did…I said don’t hold back I was trying to be strong for you Harry” “But yeh don’t have to remember? Yeh don’t need to be strong for me” You sigh and eat another spoonful “we should have talked yesterday” “Tried to pet, but yeh were knocked out cold by the time I came back with the rag” “It was too much” you comment staring into his eyes “In a good way? or bad?” now he’s nervous. Nervous that you might think he was asking a lot of you “It was good Harry it really was I just didn’t think a slap to the face was one of your kinks” you shrug “it just threw me off but i was on the verge of cumming and i wanted to cum so badly i don’t know” “If yeh don’t like it pet I won’t do it” “No I don’t want you to think im complaining” “I don’t. Did I hit too hard?” he didn’t think he did. He has hit much harder in the past with past subs “No it’s the hit itself” He feels embarrassed he should have known you weren’t ready with all the other subs he knew what they could handle. You were very confident in telling him to do all he wanted, which last night wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg “……..do you like the collar?” You snap him back to your conversation “yea I do actually” “Doesn’t it make you feel like you’re degrading me? Like a dog or something?” “No collar play for me is all about total control over yeh but if yeh don’t like it… i don’t want yeh to feel like im degrading yeh” “Maybe not that for now I prefer your hands better”

He takes in a deep breath and releases slowly “Lets just table these things and revisit yea?” you reason with him you could tell he was becoming stressed He nods in agreeance “Sorry I guess I wasn’t ready for all of you after all. I should have known better” “No pet its okay come here” He says pulling you into his lap “I care about yeh a lot. I want yeh to be just as happy if not more when yeh’re with me n think of me”

#harry smut #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #Harry Styles #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

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moonlightjeno · 4 years

Text

swashbuckle and islands

a/n : this boy will be the death of me i love him so much. excuse my horrible grammar. my fav gif, and has nothing to do with the story lol but enjoyyy

genre : angst + fluff

pairing : readerxjeno & readerxmark

word count : 2.6k

okay,

okie, be ready for this mess

and excuse any non spaced words my space bar isn’t working properly

cool so your from an island

which imma call Skye bc i can

now your mum is originally from Skye, and had like second cousins of a cousin or whatever to throne but she married you father who was from the mainland

which is a big no no but at the time she didn’t care bc she was so in love

skip forward a couple of years and the father is a complete ass

doesn’t work or really do much except order your mum around

anyone who has a wonderful father or really good parents im sorry don’t attack me this is for the story

so, mum has had you and your older brother, whom your brother continues to admire your father bc he really just wants love and is hella lost in this mess of a world

Moving on

you used to have a really good relationship with your father until he changed.

cheated on your mother, and would blame it on you mum

in response you really just tried to help you mum get through this mess

big big mess

your brother, at the beginning helped and tried to calm your father

boy kinda gave up, hela understandable

and left to the mainland to study medicine

wooot go him

but you were devastated because you were now alone

now bc your brother has left your father has really worsened and blocks your freedom more and more

The point where you were literally only allowed to like go to school, work in the fields and be a servant

sksksk

now remember how your mum was like the second cousin or smth to the royal crown?

Twas was importanttt

that managed to get you a study abroad year in london,

queue your best friend mark entering

this boy showed you what freedom was and felt like for the first time since your father went off rails

iss been like a good 13 years and you're like 16 ??

I digress

mark literally made you feel more yourself because of his natural outgoing and easy behavior

It really was pretty amazing

And then the hiding and going out late at night was over

It was back to no friends, working at the field

sad life tbh

I must note, that because mark lived in canada bc why tf not

y’all couldn’t really communicate

this is set when pirates where a thing, think of pirates of the caribbean

I love those movies

okie, progress two years

of you thanks to you mum’s second cousin related human lol

you became friends with the cousins friends daughter

y’all really had known each other since they were smol

but hadn’t really been friends, bc the girl was pretty quite and a beaut

even her own father treated her better than she treated her own daughter

smh, ik this is a cliche live with it

but overall she was a really good person and kinda managed to sneak you around the island when you weren't on “duty” for your father

though its not that you didn’t like working in the fields bc you loved helping out with the animals and occasionally give food to those who were less fortunate than you and really couldn’t afford it

being a trooper, that you are you often told your friend idk wanna give her a name so y’all could come up with one if it were up to me it would be lilith about what you would see around the island and how the country was pretty not doing a okay

she would listen and talk about her own problems and how she wished she could travel and paint everything

Bonding over traveling yep yeo

one day, you were supposed to work in the fields as you tend to have to do to the cows, and sheep and horses, while picking up the apples? from the trees ??

Idk i don’t farm

either wayyyy

you had finished your tasks early, and had struggled, and i mean stRuGgLed to get away from your father

he was in one of his moods today, shouting at everyone and refusing to admit he needed help

it was a constant reminder of every bad thing every failure that could happen in your life every thing you didn’t want for yourself or your mum who had slowly been getting sick and y’all had some money that could have helped her but your father thought that she deserved the illness

and i quote he said “everything happens for a reason child, if your mother had treated me and had been a good person this wouldn’t have happened to her, but alas some people deserve what they get”

skskskks

he continued to say how “i on the other hand, have been a good man all my life, have always helped others so i don’t get sick”

this man i swear to god this has actually happened help

being very much done with your father who you really wished would just disappear and leave you and your mom who no longer lived with you but now lived with lilith to be

you had thought of running away for a very long time, though never knew how to get off the island it seemed impossible

sure you knew how to fight, somewhat by watching the guards and the little training mark you had taught your two years ago.

missing mark hours but it wouldn’t compare to the guards of the royals who would never aid you

and even if they had, you had never learned how to sail which was ironic as the island you lived in wasn’t very large. Your only method of transportation has been your legs and your families faithful horse lethian ?? who really was your favorite out of all the animals

running away from the trapped life had always felt like a dream, one that you had lived for for the small year in london with mark

you thought about running away again, the idea of sneaking into a trading boat slowly forming in your mind

you could take her your mum and lilith and travel the world go to london again and paris and canada and re-unite with the friend you missed the most

a smile had formed on your previous grim face, the dream something you held onto until your eyes opened and smoke covered the sky

a ringing began in your ears and you tried to stop it, your hands covering your ears in an attempt to stop the noise but the ringing only got stronger

the sky was black, shots were heard were the village people yelled in panic

you looked out towards the sea and could see the outline of a ship

a very large ship

oh shit

a pirate ship

the flag blew proudly in the boat and from where you stood the bone white skull that contrasted against the black around it was made visible everytime the wind blew

you gasped, everything anyone had told you about pirates were that they weren’t to be trusted

they were ruthless and would do nothing to stop from getting what they wanted

the stories you'd heard all came to the same conclusion you see the flag you run in the other direction

you pace quickened and in small time you were running towards the blazing village now up in smokes fire and fog covering the bakery, and fields

the school that had taught you the basics of reading and writing until girls weren’t allowed to attend was a blaze royal guards their black and purple uniforms waved their hands around and pointed their too heavy too unbalanced swords not being of much use

mom

she should be safe

safe with lilith you thought, looking back towards were the small castle stood its bold flag still flying proudly in the grey and black sky

safe , shes safe you keep telling yourself a constant buzz that you repeated over and over to yourself in order to continue moving towards the castle walls

you only lasted a solid five minutes before the guards were holding the civilians back

you sighed angry these idiots being more preoccupied with holding back the citizens who were trying to get to safety behind the castle walls than actually dealing with the threat at hand

who hired them really??

being the stubborn human you are you decided to head towards the back entrance as yuo saw a flash of blonde hair headin towards the back gate of the castle

oh no was your immediate thought their gonna get to lilith and mum

all the guards had been directed out of castle except a few that had stayed inside to keep the royal fam safe the infirmary had been left unguarded

you looked around trying to look for a familiar face, a familiar guard who youd seen at a practice lilith had dragged you too she had said it was too “admire suitors” you had shaken your head and laughed

you had no interest in tying yourself to a man that would treat you like something to throw around but you let her revel in her fantasies

no familiar face was found so you turned and ran towards the blonde head you had seen walk towards the back entrance grabbing a sword from one of the dead guards

your cursed the clothes women were given making it impossible to run in impossible to fight in

the blonde boy turned around at your approach, he was young you noticed

probably your age, his grin was deviant and his eyes were mocking as she approached

“please” you tried “don’t hurt hurt anyone else”

the boy looked at you with a puzzled look at laughed, slashing away at the thorns and vines that encircled the back door to the castle as he found the lock and tried to break it open

you got closer, looking at the broken glass bottles that littered the floor and torches that lit up the fogged street

the boy was too busy with the look to realize the girl that had come behind him and hit him in the back of the head with the swords dull pommel the boy let put a yelp before collapsing at your feet

your small victory lasted a small time and before you noticed the boy you had tied with the thorns and vines from the door, which continued to be locked

your mum and lilith as far as you knew safe

began to stir and as his eyes opened another boy appeared at the end of the alley

his hair seemed to be part of the night sky, falling over his dark eyes.

“mark!” the black haired boy cried, his hand at his scimitar pointed directed towards you his other hand had managed to slip a dagger out of god knows where and sliced mark’s binds

mark the name sent a shock through you and you took a closer look at the young boy whose eyes were now wide open no anger shown

but instead amusement and the joyous spark you had once known

he looked so different

the black haired boy still had a sword at your throat and you swallowed briefly

“mark?” you gasped feeling the tip of the sword against your neck a small movement and it would nick your skin, blood would swell

‘Mark’ looked at you again and laughed,

the black haired boy looked confused “let her go jeno”

jeno was like ‘excuse me ? she knocked you unconscious no i'm not doing that’ he didn't say it but mark understood and laughed again this time it was more mischievous a feral grin adorned his features

“let her go, she’s coming with us” jeno and you were both like huh? has this boy gone mad?

probably letss be realll

“umm no im not” you snapped at the boy you once knew, you glared at jeno who had regrettably removed his sword away from your neck but had placed the dagger threateningly close to your back ashe forced you to move along

you didn’t get an answer from mark who still seemed very entertained by the whole situation

he had changed so much since you’d last seen him *sigh*

you three walked back towards the village and you hadn’t realized how the screams of pain and fear were no longer heard

more than a few guards littered the floors and you tried not to gasp as jeno forcefully continued to move you towards the sea its waters black

the walk to the pirate boat seemed to last ages, the sun had begun to set in the sky casting dark purple and red shadows above the black water that didn’t reflect any light. It broke your heart to see the usually clear water be black, the animals that lived in the waters probably struggling to survive.

when you finally arrived, the panic began to settle in again. you didn’t know if your mum and lilith were safe, you didn’t know what would happen and the boy you knew two years ago had changed so much that you could no longer read what he was thinking

the ship loomed in front of you, you hear the small buzz of chatter from the ship and laughter

why was there laughter in such a horrible place ??

“Come on” mark said, already walking getting onto the ship, not looking back at the mess they had left behind

You no longer felt the sharp prick of a dagger or sword at your back, but instead it had been replaced by a strong hand guiding you towards the ship

the contact startled you, and you straightened and continued to walk forward the ship only a few feet away, you still held onto the rock that you had hit mark with, your sword taken away by jeno

you forced your feet to stop moving, because one more step and you’d be on the pirate’s boat, and ducked, and made a weak attempt at attacking the black haired boy behind you hitting him with the small rock you had on the leg

you begin to move away from the boat. The victory lasted a solid second before jeno had his arms around you, pinning your hands behind your back. No longer smiling, or understanding in his dark eyes. you glared at him and then at mark who had finally turned around, a sort of sadness passed over his features before he spoke

“you can’t run away y/n” he said calmly. “remember in london? when you dream about running away, leaving this island and exploring the world? away from your father?”

his words shocked you, but you didn’t want to leave your mum she had no one else

“i can’t just leave mark !! my mum, she’s still there and i can’t just leave her with father” a look of recognition and understanding flitted through jeno’s face and reflected in mark

“i know, i know but if you stay here and go back” the boy shook his head, the dark of the night making his blonde hair a dull light in the fog,

you knew, that in many ways he was right. if you did go back the villagers had seen you with the pirates, being taken by them as the village had burned down and you weren't scared. the worst scenario would be that if you did go back they would imprison you, ask you for information

hurt mum, hurt lilith even is she was part of the royals

you felt the tears well up in your eyes, and refused to let them fall

“we aren’t all that bad” peeped jeno’s voice who had softened again, until you looked at him and his gaze hardened

you forced yourself a small smile, and placed your foot on the board of the boat

“Let’s go swashbucklers” you said,

after all, the stories you’d heard had come from your father, and all his stories were a lie.

a/n : i hope y’all enjoyed that. ik there wasn't much jeno lol but i’m planning on king this a series if you want? send me an ask, if you do! either way,

peace out luvs,

stay safe

49 notes · View notes

emiisanxious · 3 years

Text

Rainy Day

Archive of Our Own Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Additional Tags:

Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders

Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders

Rain

a LOT of rain

Light Angst

Swearing

Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric

Summary: “On a storm day, Virgil was feeling so good that he decided to go for a walk, of course, he didn't say anything to anyone, since he wasn't expecting to be a problem.

Or: Virgil spaces outs, goes for a walk, Roman, Logan, and Patton get sick worried because they can't find him. Remus doesn't care as far he is back, and Janus just wants him to come back or use a dammit umbrella.”

Note: On a rainy day I had this idea, and won't leave me out so... I thought why not? Although this fic isn't perfect in my eyes, it does have a big warm spot in my heart. It can be a messy and unclear text in some parts, but... It truly was warm for me... Really I liked to type this one.

He could hear, other than his music blasting through his headphones, the sound of cars passing in water puddles, the water descending by a pipe, he could hear the small droplets against his window, the wind making the window cause noises because of the speed. Weird enough those were calming sounds.

Obviously, he didn't like the thunder when he wasn't looking, but he could appreciate it if he is sitting at the window looking at the rain. After all, the light of thunder is quicker than the sound, so he won't feel scared when he is watching. A calming feeling, a sense of cold but not the bad one, he could just stay under his blankets hearing those sounds and... Appreciate it.

As he put down his phone and headphone on his bed table. Curling in a small ball under the pile of blankets, maybe he should just go outside? Cold weather isn't something he often can appreciate, and it would be nicer to have rain falling over his body. A small smile, as he got up from his bed; the others were all busy so it's not they would miss him right now. He just needs to make sure to be back before dinner is ready, right?

With that in mind, he put on his boots, skinny distressed jeans, his old black and grey jacket mostly because he didn't want to attract attention, but at the same time, he does worry about the weather damaging his purple patched one. Pulling up his hoodie, he got his phone and went outside. Because of the rain, no one would notice him walking around, heck! If they didn't recognize Remy, why should he care about him?!

The feel of the droplets touching his face, the droplets slowly wetting his clothes, he didn't mind it. He was happy with the overwhelming feeling of the calm and solitude that the rains bring him. The slowly building up weigh as his clothes start to get wet. Looking at the gray sky, the street lights turned on a bit more early so it wouldn't be dark.

Like anytime that it's raining, Virgil felt so... Good. His thoughts for once far back in his mind, nothing to worry about, nothing to be cautious about. He knows that it's his work been anxious about everything, self-aware of everything but... Once in a while... It was good to feel the opposite.

Sadly, his thoughts were back to reality as he picks up his phone. It was vibrating a few minutes ago, but now it was getting more insistent. Insistent from Janus and the same type of messages.

Deceit: Virgil. GET. OUT. OF. THE. RAIN!

"Fuck" He murmured before laughing, he found it funny, how now that Deceit was better accepted between the traits, he was back in mamma mod with him.

Daddy: Virge, I tried to knock on your door? Are you okay? Daddy: Virge, please answer me! Daddy: Oh... You're not in your room... Daddy: Sorry for getting inside your room without consent. Daddy: Wait... Daddy: WHERE ARE YOU?! Daddy: ARE YOU OKAY?! Daddy: VIRGIL WHERE ARE YOU?!

"Why he needed me?" He thought as he sighed at that as he looked at the rest of the messages, it seems he was wrong when he thought that he would just be called at dinner.

Logic: Patton is really worried about you. Where are you? He is yelling and asking everyone. Can you answer me at least? Prince: Hey hot topic, where are you? Padre is yelling and is freaking out... Prince: That is it! We are going to ask De--- Janus. Rat: You know, mama is really worried, can you get out of the fucking rain?! Also, the light trio is here asking where the fucking you're. Dee is lying, although I don't understand why. Rat: Can you just get the fuck back home bitch?

"Thaaaaaaaaaaat is weird." He thought again as he looks at the sky, it has been a lovely walk around, he was feeling a bit cold from his wet clothes, but he didn't mind, not at all. Closing his eyes as he let the rain pour over him before his anxiety kicked in and wash over that feeling of calm he opened his eyes to send a message again.

Emo: hey rat, can you tell Jan that I will be back in like... 1 hour or so? Rat: WHAT?! NO! Those three are annoying as hell right now! Emo: well... can't care less. im okay. just tell them im okay Rat: They don't believe it. Emo: sucks for them and you. ill be back in 1 hour or so. Emo: oh, says that im fine and when im back i will explain Rat: Uuuuuuurgh... Fine! Only because it's been years since you were this careless. Don't make it a habit! Emo: okay Rat: Enjoy.

With that, he pockets his phone again, starting to walking aimlessly around the street, it's been so long since the last rain, sure it does rain sometimes, but it does need specific things happening to mess with him like that.

Mess up his senses and mind, although he felt angst, sad and even depressed, it did him feel calm, relief and hopeful, he wasn't sure about what or why, but he could care less about it. Also, that was something he doesn't understand, he could care less about everything in that mood.

Like whenever is raining, in that specific mood set, he felt free, free of his anxiety, free of whatever paranoia, free of his thoughts. Just the sound of the rain, the cars passing over the water puddles, the steps on the water, the droplets on the umbrella, the smell of rain. Three of his senses were all around the rain, but it was marvelous and messed up more with him, when his last two senses were as well, sights and hearing since it started thundering around.

He couldn't help, he felt relaxed and he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible, and like all the times that he was that messed up, we went to a park, sitting on a swing, he did lose the passage of time. Although his phone soon was going to start vibrating again.

Deceit: VIRGIL ANXIETY SANDERS! GET BACK TO HOME NOW!

He let out a long laugh, he was alone in the park so he didn't care about it, Janus was back in full mama mod, and honestly? He was going to get scolded a lot about it. But he couldn't seem to care right now.

Prince: Virge, padre is really worried. Can you return? Prince: Like, Remus told us you would be back in 1 hour or so, but it is already dinner. Emo: you can say to Patton, to join with Janus Prince: YOU'RE ALIVE! Prince: What that even mean? Emo sent a picture. Emo: dont tell Janus tho Prince: Okay... WOW! He is like padre! Emo: yeah... he is been sending messages since i left Prince: But really Virge. Come back. Emo: fine... im on my way back... Emo: the catch is... it will take more... 30 minutes or 1 hour Prince: WHAT?!?! Emo: im really... far away right now Prince: Just make your way back! Emo: okay okay... your brother is texting wait a minute

Rat: Mama is mad and angry and worried, you're fucked up if you get sick. Emo: say for him to join with Patton Rat: Oh yeah, that daddy is also worried sick, although less angry and mad. Emo: yeap. im on my home. 30 minutes or 1 hour Rat: Fuck! You got really far, huh? Emo: i would be even far if it wasn't Dee sending so many messages and calling me my full name Rat: Stormcloud, better you hurry up. I can hear Dee and Patton saying they are going to the real world to find you. Emo: okay okay... now NERD is texting... wait a minute

Logic: I presume that Roman, Remus, Janus, and Patton already did their worried text? Emo: yes...? Logic: So I should be more direct. Why are you out in the rain? Emo: rain numbs my anxiety... Logic: That... Doesn't make sense. Emo: no logic can explain it. Emo: just... it numbs, totally, i don't feel anxious, i don't feel bad, i don't care... i feel calm... Logic: Huh. That is curious. Emo: so... i just enjoy it... i thought that you guys won't call me till dinner. Logic: Well... You see Patton went to check on Thomas. And Thomas was really... Really... Calm. Patton panicked and thought you had ducked out, although it was weird because Thomas wasn't like with the symptoms of you disappearing. Logic: The reason for worry was because Thomas was lazy all the time today, to a point where Patton was checking for him to eat and things like that. So Patton called me, to figure out if something was wrong. We couldn't find why. So we tried to summon you but you didn't show up, we went to your room, but you weren't there and it just... Emo: you all jumped to a conclusion Emo: come on... a little faith?! Logic: I apologize. Emo: im on my way back, i will be in 30 minutes or 1 hour Logic: You were far away huh? Emo: yes, please when im back i want you all to be in the real-world okay? Emo: even Janus and Remus Logic: For what? Emo: because i want to discuss this "jumped conclusion" and explain a few things Logic: Sure. I will tell them. Emo: thanks, now im going back.

He took a deep breath, passing his hand over his face, he didn't wear makeup, since he knew it would be pointless, as he gets ups and returns to his home. In the middle of his walk, he got lost in thought and feelings again, to a point that when he got home he had glassy purple eyes, getting inside he could see the six already there, where he just looked to himself, he was wet and dripping from all his time on the rain.

He was also wearing his old jacket, something he didn't do since he was accepted, and that probably freaked out them more than anything as he looks at them. But that was enough to snap him back from his dazed mind.

"Thanks for been here." He said sarcastic, he changed his clothes with a snap, so it wasn't dripping or wet anymore, it was more like his normal clothes for now. His purple patched jacket, his sneakers instead of boots, and now he picked up things to do his make up, while he sat on the stairs as normal. "Let's get over it shall we?" He said while applying his makeup.

"Virgil, why..." Thomas tried to say something but he was lost.

He was totally back in been anxiety when he applied his makeup. "Why you're so calm?" A nod as he looks to his host. "I'm calm now. Normally when it rains my anxiety gets numb when things are like today, that is more a storm with thunder, wind, and the heavy rain I just get... More numb."

"That is true, but since normally doesn't rain that much it is rare for him to do that." Remus said as he looked at Janus who was storming.

"Told you for fucking sake at least use a dammit umbrella!" Janus was angry and mad. "Also you should get a warm bath, take some soup or drink something warm!"

"Why is Janus so...?" Thomas didn't know how to vocalize those thoughts as he looks to the yellow side.

"Janus was and is, the mother figure for most of The Others? Well not all of them, because a few are jerks, the ones who weren't, Dee was the mother. Like Patton is the Daddy for Roman and Logan" Virgil shrugged as he looked between Thomas and Deceit. "Relax, I will do it soon. Also, umbrellas take half of the purpose!"

"Please don't start arguing you both... Jan I know you're worried, but Vee doesn't give you a shit when it's storming. Vee, I know that okay? Just focus on explaining the things?" Remus put his hand between the two sides who were nearly starting to argue.

"Okay." "Fine." Both pouted but did stop as Logan and Patton were still impressed, not used to this new... Thing. Roman on the other hand was the first one to ask. "So... When it's raining your anxiety gets numbs, storms make you more numb if that is possible, and you just... Fall in a sense of calm?"

"Yeah, something like that... I just feel free and can't care about anything... I fell calm, extremely relaxed, and self-aware, but needed to say, Thomas can't have anything on the day that happens. After all, taking care of Thomas is a top priority and thus I won't be able to relax. On that note, since the day Logan calmed me and Thomas with those five sensory exercises, I realized, that in the rain it's like... A real version of that?" Virgil answered while looking at Logan.

"Oh... I guess since you're the mental representation of anxiety, you need something more grounding than just breathing exercises, or other ground exercises to fully calm down and relax. Like the full five senses working on something instead of just exercises. Oh... That is interesting." Logan was truly surprised about it.

"So... Why I never noticed it?" Thomas asked curiously as he looks around.

"Because... I'm normally back in a spawn of time, like 1 hour or 30 minutes. I don't always go that far, like today. But... Today my mind got really blank and numb, and I didn't notice my phone at all. That is why everyone texted me and was worried. Also, when I go for a walk, I normally end up noticing how long I'm out but today was... Off." He felt bad for worrying them but at the same time, he was feeling calm and relaxed, which was really weird for him. "What I'm mean is... I'm sorry for worrying you guys... I will not do that again..."

"No!" Patton surprised everyone when he exclaimed. "No! You don't need to stop doing it! If it's something that does you well then you shouldn't stop it! You were so happy and calm when you got here, that I was surprised. But I can see it does you very well."

"I have to agree. It's not something bad or some type of disease, it does seem that it's good for you to relax and for Thomas to have a nice and relaxed day to self-care. I can rearrange his schedule when it's raining so you both can enjoy it. I also, find it quite enjoyable to read while raining so it can be a day for all of us doing some relaxing. Instead of working." Logan was next in change that. "I apologize for us jumping in a conclusion."

"The reason for us been worried is just because we didn't understand what was happening or where you went. Now that we know, and the effects of it we can work with it. If you want, I can let you know whenever is raining in my side of imagination, so you can go there. Not sure if have the same effect, but we can work on something for at least have half of the effect?" Roman was really happy to know that something other than just breath and grounding exercises could help Virgil to feel calmer, so he was the first to jump thinking of ways to help.

Janus and Remus were quiet while looking at Virgil. "I'm sorry Virgil. I shouldn't let my job interfere and be so... Demanding with you. I knew you felt calm and good, but I really worry when you got outside without an umbrella, or just doesn't pick up messages. If you could just work on one of those?" Janus tried as he wasn't sure. "So at least I could worry a bit lest."

"Hm... Why don't Remus come out with me when it happens? He is someone you can rely on texting you back, he can also stalk me without triggering too much, and he sometimes even let me enjoy my solitude although most of the time he will talk a lot. It would be a win-win for everyone. Although I hate the idea of been stalked..." Anxiety let out a small sigh. "But I can't really do any of those Jan... The feeling of rain falling on me is what makes it special. And I get really distracted so I can't really answer a text."

Everyone fell in silence, they didn't know how to deal with that, but surprisingly it was Remus who spoke. "So, how about it, I don't need to stalk you or whatever. I can configure a GPS thing on your phone, you just click a button when you go out, and it will go to Dee and Patton, and they will know your location. And we will just need to rely on that. It's not too invasive, neither is repressing you or creeping you. I won't need to follow you and all."

"Oooh... That sounds like a nice idea." Thomas said while yawning. "Can I nap... The rain really is making me sleep..."

Virgil looked at them and they nodded. "I need to shower and put on some more... Comfortable clothes. So I will go." Without waiting he was back at commons, and soon he was heading to his room, soon he was in the shower, taking a lot of time on there. Even wishing he had a bathtub like Roman or Patton, but he didn't.

After half an hour he was back at the commons, now using pants and still on his hoodie, more relaxed and calm as he goes to the kitchen, finding Patton and Janus. "Kiddo!" As morality noticed him, he saluted with two fingers before sitting down. "Thought in eat and drink something before going back to bed."

"Good, I did some soup and Patton did the food, and we have hot choco. Is that good?" Deceit asked although he was already separating things for Virgil.

"It's fine. Again, sorry for worrying you, mama." As now Virgil wasn't around Remus and Roman he didn't mind in be a bit more... Open. "And daddy."

Both of them got surprised as he looked at Virgil, who was now fidgeting with his jacket's sleeves and looking down. "It's okay Kiddo. We understand and as we said, it isn't something bad." Patton was the first to answer as he heats the meal in the microwave.

"I thought... I would never hear you call me that again..." Janus was shocked as he looked at the anxious side. "But Patton is right, everything will be alright now and apologizes accepted."

"I told you... I was a jerk because I was scared... And I'm sorry about that, but... I'm trying okay? It's not perfect, I sure will close up if my anxiety gets worse but... I'm trying..." He trails off as he looks anywhere but for them.

"It's fine, we know that, I know that, and Remus, well he is just Remus so... I bet he is happy to have his brother back, just, please... Stop him, instead of helping him." Janus smiled as he teases.

"I can't promise anything... Some of Remus's ideas are too good to just... Stop him." He teased back but soon turned in a more serious. "Thank you, you two. I'm not sure what I would be if I didn't have both of you." He smiled softly at that.

"Well, we still have a lot to work on, arguments will happen but... this can be a good family. We will work together instead of separated." Patton smiled as he places the meal in front of Virgil.

"We are all trying Virgil, and that is what matters. Now eat. Before Remus and Roman find you and want to drag you." Janus pointed as he knows one of the twins, and sure enough that could happen.

"Just to ask... Why were you in your old jacket? That kinda bothered me, Logan and Roman..." Patton asked a bit embarrassed.

"Well... I don't like to wash this jacket too much, I get scared it will be torn out. Purple does get too much attention when you're walking around the city. And last old habits, it's just... Normal for me use that jacket when walking outside in the rain. I did that a lot when I was with The Others. So habits."

"Oh... That is not a problem, I can explain that to them later." Morality was thoughtful for a few minutes before he answered. "Oh, do you like the taste of the rain?"

"Yes. Although I don't walk with my mouth open to get it." Chuckles filled the kitchen as Virgil started to eat, the vague sound of rain, the vague sound of droplets on windows. The weather slowly clearing up, but he was still calm, relaxed, and comfortable. Maybe it does have other things that can calm him down like rain, he just needs to find out, although he has a small suspect that a warm meal done by his two "parents" was one small way of getting that feeling.

Maybe... If he can find more small ways of getting that feeling, he could feel like that more times, but for now? He would just enjoy this little warmth.

#Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Janus Sanders #fanfic

3 notes · View notes

iwritesickfic · 4 years

Note

1/2 Aaaaah I’ve fallen quickly in love with your writing, I love your style. A couple of prompts, since you asked for them: Peter thinks he’s recovering from a bad illness- genuinely so fed up of being ill that at this point he’s willing to pretend to himself and everyone else he’s feeling better. Meanwhile he’s still staying up late working, and one day he gets stuck in the rain on the way from class and needs some help... and Ashlyn is closest...

First, thank you!!!!!! Second, this is long as hell and I also got sucked into the DRAMA of it all so I hope you still enjoy it :) might write a second part if we’re feeling it? anyway, enjoy and thanks for the kind words and prompts :)

It seems like it’s been forever since Peter hasn’t felt like shit. It’s like his body is trying to make up for all the years he spent avoiding every cold and flu that went around. He has to admit though, the main reason he’s still ill is because he won’t really give himself the time to fully recover. As soon as he’s feeling halfway decent, he dives back into life as normal - which for him, is 6 hours sleep and living on coffee - and within a week he’s back to being practically bedridden.

Leo is fed up with it. Big time. At least that’s what Peter’s gathered. Leo’s never said as much, but Peter figures he must be getting tired of it by now. So much that Peter’s stopped telling him how he’s feeling. At first it was just lying by omission. Now it’s lying-lying.

Today, everything’s concentrated in his head. His sinuses are throbbing, and his eyes hurt to move. He’s been swapping between chills and feeling too hot all day, and he’s pretty sure everyone in his lecture class hates his guts for his constant sniffling. He ran out of tissues about an hour into the six hour course, so he’s stuck wiping his nose with the crumpled leftovers and the few napkins he finds in a pocket of his bag.

By the time there’s only an hour left in class, he’s lost all ability to absorb anything the professor is saying. He’s shaking so badly he can’t take notes even if he wanted to. He’s considered leaving early, but to be honest, he’d rather put off his walk to the train as long as possible. He decides when he gets home, he’s chugging some nyquil, taking a cold shower, and going the fuck to sleep. He’s got a date with Leo tonight but he’ll need to make some excuse.

When the professor finally ends the class, he gets a rush of dopamine at the thought he’s only a 15 minute walk and a 30 minute train ride from some relief.

He stares at his phone, trying to think of something to tell Leo.

something came up, can i see you thursday?

Leo texts back almost immediately.

we already rescheduled twice are you sure you cant make it?

Peter bites his lip.

it’s a thesis thing. im sorry i promise thursday night.

He starts to pack his bag, and his phone buzzes.

ok, good luck love x

He pushes down the wave of guilt he feels and slings his bag over his shoulder. His heart drops into his stomach when he gets to the building’s lobby. It’s raining. Really raining, not just drizzling, but pouring. He swears, and sits down on one of the benches. He can wait.

Ten minutes later, the rain still hasn’t let up, and he knows if he doesn’t get up now he’s going to end up asleep on this bench whether he likes it or not. When he stands, the world starts to spin, and he has to bite back a whine at the way his headache worsens.

He pulls his hood on, even though it won’t make much of a difference, and takes a step outside. It’s not even five minutes before he’s soaked. At first, the rain almost felt nice on his fevered skin, but now he’s freezing. The cold’s worsened the way his nose is running, there’s mess all over his upper lip, and he can’t stop sneezing. His hair is stuck to his forehead, water gathered in his eyelashes. It’s another five minutes before he realizes he’s not getting to the train. His knees give out, and he has to catch himself against a bus shelter. He manages to make it to the bench inside, and sinks down, hyperventilating. He looks around aimlessly, hoping something will catch his eye and give him some semblance of a plan. And it does.

He’s on 110th and Amsterdam. That’s a block from Ashlynn’s apartment. Less than a block. He stands up, waiting for the world to stop spinning before making an attempt to walk. He tries not to think about the cold, or the way he can’t feel his toes, or the pounding in his head. Just focuses on one foot in front of the other.

He finds himself at her building. He presses her buzzer with shaking fingers, praying she’s home. He doesn’t have to wait even 30 seconds before the lobby door opens.

he steps inside, unable to hold back the heavy sigh of relief at the sudden warmth. He stands there for a moment, swaying slightly, before making his way to the elevator. Somehow, he finds himself at her door, and knocks. he hears her footsteps padding closer and closer before she’s standing right there, in front of him.

“Peter?” she looks puzzled until the world starts to tilt and he grips the doorframe to stay upright. “Whoa, hey, are you alright?” He opens his mouth to speak but three harsh sneezes come out instead, and he buries them into the wet sleeve of his hoodie. “Ok, c’mere.” She pulls him inside, and before he really knows what’s going on, he’s sitting at her kitchen table.

“S’raining,” he mumbles, and she hums in response.”M’cold.”

“I can tell. Here -” She starts to strip off his hoodie, which is totally soaked through. His shivering worsens, and she palms his forehead. “Shit, Peter.” She takes the hem of his t shirt and hesitates. “Can I...?” He nods, and she peels it off. She unties his sneakers and pulls off his socks, then bites her lip. “I can grab you a pair of my roommate’s sweatpants and you can change in the bathroom, yeah?” He shakes his head. There is no way he’s walking anywhere right now. She goes red. “You want me to...”

“M’gonna pass out if I try to stand up, Ash.”

Carefully, she unbuttons his jeans, tugging them off until he’s sitting in his underwear. She disappears for a moment before coming back with a towel, and wraps it around his shoulders. She places a box of tissues on his lap, and sits down in the chair across from him.

“What’s going on?”

“M’sick.” She laughs softly. Peter gingerly starts to wipe his nose, wincing at the raw, chapped soreness. He blows, and a spike of pain hits him between the eyes.

“Yeah, I can tell. Why were you -”

“Walking home from class,” he mumbles, and she nods. She stands up, and reappears with a thermometer. “Can we not?”

“If you wanna stay here then you’re gonna have to let me baby you,” she says, and if it didn’t hurt so bad he’d roll his eyes. He lets her stick the device under his tongue, and while she’s waiting for the reading she starts heating up water for tea. The thermometer beeps and she removes it gently. She frowns.

“What?” She takes a deep breath.

“It’s high, that’s all.” He raises his eyebrows at her. “102.2.”

“Not so bad,” he murmurs. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open. Sitting here in the warmth of the kitchen his body is finally deciding it’s had enough. The sudden warmth is also making his nose run. He sniffles.

“I’m not even gonna comment on that. C’mon, you can lay down on the couch. I’d offer you my bed but I don’t think you’ll make it that far to be honest.” He nods, and she pulls him upright. He manages to make it the few feet to the couch, and lands heavily. She swaps the towel for a blanket, and he’s never felt something better than the way it feels on his freezing, damp skin. Dry and warm and heavy. He curls up on his side, holding a tissue under his still-leaking nose, and he doesn’t last 30 seconds before falling asleep.

He’s awakened suddenly by the harsh ring of his cell phone. His headache is worse, despite the rest, and though his nose has stopped running it seems, his head is fully, hopelessly congested. He digs through his bag to find his phone, and frowns when he sees it’s Leo. He considers letting the call go to voicemail, but that’s before he sees the 5 previous missed calls.

“Hello?” He hates the way his voice sounds - sick and congested and torn up.

“Peter, what the fuck is going on?”

“I’m uh...I’m home working on thesis.” It takes him a moment to remember his lie from earlier.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why then do I see a photo of you, shirtless, on Ashlynn’s couch?” Peter knows immediately that he has fucked up, big time. “Do I really need to explain to you why that makes me upset?”

“Leo -”

“You better have a good fucking explanation for this.” Maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen Leo in weeks, or maybe it’s the build up of all the guilt he’s felt lying to him, but Peter feels tears start to fall. He breaks into sobs, and they make his headache exponentially worse.

“Leo, p-please, I -” He can barely speak around his tears. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad at you for what?” His voice is cold. “Tell me. I want to hear you tell me.”

“It’s...it’s not -”

“Tell me, Peter.”

“I didn’t want...I didn’t want you to be mad at me.” His fevered brain can’t quite string together the right words.

“How would...” He trails off. “How would sleeping with Ashlynn not make me mad?”

“I didn’t - we...it wasn’t...I know you’re tired of taking care of me, so -”

“What?” Leo’s tone has shifted.

“I know you’re sick of me being sick, so I was gonna just go home and sleep and then it was raining, and I was so fucking dizzy, and I was on 110th street -”

“Wait. Stop. Let me get this straight. You’re ill?”

“Yeah,” he says, and the guilt is absolutely eating him up. “I didn’t want to bother -”

“Love, why would that be bothering me?” Leo sounds almost sad.

“You-you’re so busy, and -”

“Peter, I don’t know what kind of miscommunication happened here but I’m not...I wouldn’t be bothered if I knew you weren’t feeling well. I mean, I’d be upset but just because I don’t want you to feel bad. I wouldn’t be mad at you or angry with you or something like that. Why would you have that idea?”

“I’d hate me if I was you,” he chokes out, and Leo sighs.

“Peter...Look, can I come get you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know that, that’s not why I asked.” He pauses. “Where’s Ashlynn?”

That’s a good question. Peter isn’t sure. At class, maybe?

“Not uh...not here.”

“Ok, I’m gonna call you back. I love you, ok?”

“Mmhm. Love you too.”

“Ok, just relax. Everything’s alright. Hang tight.”

“Ok.”

#my writing #oc peter #oc leo #snz #sickfic

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mithranqueersmusings · 4 years

Text

Before This Dance Is Through II

Chapter: 2/16

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Ringo was just about to get into bed when a notification rang out from his phone, it was charging on the other side of the room because that was the only way he could get himself out of bed in the morning. It was almost 2 o'clock in the morning which meant the text could only be from one person.

you up???

This was far from the first of these texts that Ringo had received from John, they were almost a weekly occurrence by this point but more often than not Ringo had already fallen asleep.

was just about to go to bed. why?

do you have work tomorrow????

not until 12 do you?

fuck off

John was a writer, a poet more than anything, which meant that he was always working which really meant that he was never working. Ringo was a drum teacher, had been for almost 7 years at this point, which wasn't as exciting as it sounded; he mostly worked for rich families who had a child who was trying to do something edgy or was brought into schools for one of those strange activity days. Drumming was Ringo's passion and while he was glad that he was able to earn money doing something he loved, he dearly wished he was able to drum for himself rather than spending several hours a week just trying to get a kid to hold the sticks correctly.

i was about to take a little ride down the helter skelter care to join me ;)

Ringo stared down at his phone for a moment. It had been over a week since John had dragged him out to that strip club, and while he'd like to say that he'd forgotten about the whole thing it was far from the truth. The sight of Spike dancing on that stage had plagued his memory almost every night since, leading to more than one occasion of late-night indulgence. Ringo had felt guilty touching himself thinking about the other man, but he couldn't pinpoint the reason; he supposed it must've been the guilt he'd felt when watching him dance, and the shame that followed from having to run away into the bathroom like a scared, little kid. His thumbs were frozen in place hovering above his phone screen while his mind was racing. The sensible part of his brain told him to just go to bed, if he indulged this desire tonight it would make the last time more than a one-off and he wasn't sure he was prepared to accept that. Yet the deeper part of his mind, the one he often tried to ignore, urged him to go back just for the opportunity to see Spike again - after all, the current wank material he was providing was getting a little stale.

have you fallen asleep you twat

no no im still here

well do you wanna come or not?? i can pick you up

are you sober?

mostly

mostly?

fuck sake ARE YOU COMING OR NOT

fine but ill drive

whatever makes you happy

As much as he wouldn't like to admit it, Ringo spent a ridiculous amount of time - by his standards - choosing what to wear. Even though he knew the club was dangerously dark, and even though what he wore shouldn't really matter, that voice in the back of his mind told him to look nice for him. For the stripper he'd seen for about 5 minutes, the stripper whose real name he didn't even know, who probably didn't even remember Ringo in the slightest. He'd tried his best to not read too far into the obsession his brain seemed to have with Spike - trying to separate himself from his thoughts as though they were two separate beings had been a vital step in this - but as he stood in front of his mirror comparing two near identical jumpers, he supposed he wasn't going to be able to ignore it for much longer. His heart even felt heavy at the thought that Spike might be working tonight; he couldn't tell if it was just a strange fixation that his desperation had conjured up but the only thing he knew for certain was that he wanted to see him again.

Ringo arrived at John's place later than he would've liked but when the front door was opened to revealed a very ruffled, very drunk man, Ringo figured John wouldn't have noticed how long he'd been.

"Mostly sober?" Ringo scoffed at the sight of him, his cheeks rosy and a satisfied smile spread across his lips.

"You're not my mum and you're not the police, so fuck off." John was leaning against the door-frame, Ringo supposed partly for support and partly to look cool.

It was a common occurrence for John to get like this, far more common than Ringo would've liked. John drank a lot, at first Ringo figured it was just something everyone did when they got old enough to drink with almost no consequences, then as it continued he tried to explain it away as just something artists did. Years had passed since Ringo had first noticed it and nothing had really changed, it had gotten worse if anything, but there was nothing he really felt he could do. He debated whether he should cancel the plan altogether, to insist that John stayed home and got some sleep, but things were never really that simple. He was almost certain that if he refused to drive them, John would only find another way. He'd tried multiple things over the years: dragging him along to AA meetings, swearing to give up alcohol alongside him, even refusing to hang out with him if he'd been drinking, but nothing seemed to work. John had been through a lot, still was going through a lot, so Ringo figured the best thing he could do was simply to be there for John, it was both the most and least he could do.

Before they headed out Ringo at least managed to convince John to eat some leftover Chinese food he had in the fridge in an attempt to soak up the alcohol somewhat - and to ensure he'd had at least one semi-decent meal that day. They then slid into Ringo's car, it was a little beaten up but it served its purpose, and drove off to the place Ringo was almost certain would be the death of him. It was a Saturday so unsurprisingly the club was a great deal busier than it had been last time, there were several small groups of people smoking outside, some of them clearly workers and how they weren't risking getting frostbite Ringo didn't know. Any hopes of John sobering up a little on the journey there were dashed when he immediately hurried over to the bar as soon as they walked in the door. Ringo tried to stick to his side as best he could, his nervousness from the first time felt like it had tripled with how busy the place was now, so he aimed to keep in John's gravitational pull as much as possible. The music seemed louder but Ringo was certain that was just his imagination. They had to elbow their way to the front of the bar just to get noticed, luckily John had no qualms doing it, which resulted in a few glares from the other customers.

With their drinks in hand they couldn't sit - or hide as Ringo saw it - at the bar like they had done last time, instead they moved further into the club in search for a place to sit. There was a booth near the bathroom that was empty, for obvious reasons, which Ringo pulled them towards desperately. Maybe this was a bad idea. What was he really expecting after all? At most he'd catch another glimpse of Spike, almost have a heart-attack then have to run home less than ten minutes later. Anxiety began nibbling away at his mind, it had a nasty habit of doing that, and the claustrophobic atmosphere wasn't helping. John seemed right at home, as he did almost anywhere, craning his neck between people in search for someone.

"Looking for your Paulie?" Ringo asked in an eager attempt to calm his nerves.

"He's hardly mine." John chuckled, not turning to look at Ringo but continuing his search "Might not even be working tonight."

"Don't you have like his schedule or something?" Ringo sipped his drink.

"That'd be making things a little too official. Not really my style." John sat back in his seat with a small huff, clearly he didn't find what he was looking for.

From where they were sitting they had a fairly obstructed view of the stage but from what little Ringo could gather he wasn't too interested: a muscular man dressed as a policeman was gradually getting undressed while making crude use of a prop baton.

"Any sign of your guy?" John shouted to be heard over the music and it made Ringo jump.

Ringo paused for a moment looking into John's eyes, he considered playing dumb but decided there was no use "Afraid not. Maybe he's not working tonight either."

"That'd be some rotten luck." John clicked his tongue in his mouth "Let's check the back."

"The back?" Ringo raised an eyebrow "That sounds unbelievably dodgy."

"It's not! Well..." John broke his sentence with a laugh "It's just where they do the more 'alternative' stuff, you know?"

"No I don't know, but I suppose I'm gonna find out." Ringo chuckled rather weakly.

John raised his glass in the air a little and Ringo clinked his own against it, they downed the remainder of their drinks and slammed the glasses down on the table unnecessarily hard. John then led them around the edge of the stage, they managed to get another drink at the second bar before they headed down a suspiciously narrow set of stairs which led to an even darker corridor. They then passed through a squeaky door into a small room, barely lit excluding a spotlight focused on a stage at the other end. There were several people scattered across the limited space, a few resting against a makeshift bar which consisted of planks of wood connected to the walls and the rest sat to face the stage.

And there he was. Spike was sat on a stool onstage with an acoustic guitar in his lap and absolutely nothing else. It wasn't a sight Ringo had been prepared for, as much as the erotic gyrating and tear-away clothing had been a shock to his system this was completely different.

Ringo stopped in his tracks when he computed the sight: his pale, lean body curled up around the guitar that he was playing beautifully. His hair wasn't coiffed this time, rather it fell down across his sharp face in waves with faint curls. John turned around when he'd noticed Ringo's absence beside him, a sly grin curled on his face as he grabbed Ringo's arm and pulled him down to the front where they sat.

"What did I tell you?" John whispered "Sexy art."

Spike didn't seem to notice them despite how close they were, he seemed completely immersed in the music he was playing. Ringo hadn't recognised the song at first, perhaps he'd been to busy focusing on other things, but now he could tell it was 'Heaven' by Talking Heads; he made a happy note in his mind that it seemed like the two of them had a somewhat similar music taste, although he couldn't really admit that such a thing shouldn't matter. Looking around at the other customers, it looked like they were mostly taking refuge from the chaos of the main room, many of them resting their heads against the bar for some comfort and the others bordering on unconscious.

Somehow this occasion made Ringo feel even more nervous, even though their previous encounter had been extremely closer and inherently sexual, it was more personal therefore way more uncomfortable. He could hear his voice now, another piece of the puzzle he was shamefully building in his mind, and it was beautiful. It was a little husky but still gentle, an accent poking through in places. Ringo could get a better look at his face now: the dark eyelashes, the hints of hair between his two eyebrows and sharp canine teeth protruding from his open mouth. His eyes focused on the slender fingers playing the guitar strings, veins showing underneath the skin. Ringo felt like he was watching something very private, as if Spike was completely unaware of everyone's presence and could see nothing but his guitar. A quick way to Ringo's heart was through music and it was looking like Spike had bought a first-class ticket.

Ringo hadn't even noticed that the song had ended at first, not until John began clapping and cheering loudly in his ear. Spike seemed similarly out of it, the sudden sound of John snapping his attention away from the music and he gave a small smile in response. They seemed like completely different people: the strutting, confident man from a week ago and the soft, vulnerable one in front of them now. Sparse claps followed shortly after John's, the lack of energy caused by alcohol wearing off was very evident.

"You're pretty good." John almost shouted, Ringo wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk or he still hadn't adjusted from the other room.

"Thanks." Spike replied, his fingers still wrapped around the neck of the guitar "Any requests?"

Ringo had thought his singing voice was beautiful, but the way he spoke somehow had even more of an effect on him. The accent was thicker now and judging by how such a small amount of words could excite him so much, Ringo knew he was in trouble.

"I dunno... What do you think Ringo?" John nudged his friend beside him, embarrassingly emphasising his name which just about managed to shake Ringo from the daze he was falling into.

"Oh, er-" Ringo stammered for a second, Spike looking right at him wasn't helping his nerves in the slightest "Know any Bob Dylan?"

Spike laughed at this and for a moment Ringo cursed himself but before he could chastise himself too harshly, Spike smiled again and spoke "He's one of my favourites."

John nudged Ringo again but he wasn't paying enough attention to him to get embarrassed. He was far too focused on how Spike's fingers began to play the guitar once more, the way his lips moved over his teeth and how his bare feet tapped against the footrest of the stool as he began singing 'Just Like a Woman'. Once again he seemed to disappear into the music which Ringo was very grateful for, for if his eyes began to wander and met his unfaltering gaze he was certain he wouldn't be able to take it. For the majority of the song Ringo had completely forgotten his surroundings, the faint pulse of the loud music from upstairs or the drooling men strewn about the room, he'd even forgotten that Spike was naked while he played. John seemed similarly impressed, although he was considerably more inebriated than Ringo was, and he could see John passing him a few sideways glances during the song.

When the song ended John enthusiastically applauded once more, Ringo followed suit with a slight delay as he found his mind shutting off everything around him. Spike looked down at the two of them with a smile, shuffled in the stool then stood up.

"Well that's all from me." He spoke "Thanks for listening." The words were directed purely at John and Ringo, while there were others who appeared to be barely listening in the back nobody else seemed to be paying much attention.

"Wait!" John called out, startling both Spike and Ringo "Are you done for the night?"

Spike chuckled softly "No, they're gonna close this room in a little bit though, so you might wanna clear out."

"Will you give my friend a private dance?" John asked and now it was Ringo's turn to nudge him.

"Not dressed like this I can't." Spike gestured with his free hand to his nakedness, his guitar was the only thing upholding his modesty.

Ringo was glaring at John now, who only gave him a quick glance before returning his attention back to Spike "How about we come find you upstairs in a few minutes?"

"Fine by me." Spike replied and turned his gaze to Ringo "But your friend doesn't seem too keen."

He didn't give either of them time to protest, which was probably for the best because Ringo was having trouble articulating any coherent thoughts, as he turned his back and walked off the stage. Ringo fought the urge to not look at his arse as he left, and failed entirely. John giggled at the sight which broke Ringo's absentmindedness. The nudge evolved into a harder shove which only intensified John's laughter.

"I hate you." Ringo hissed but he couldn't stop the laughter from breaking through.

"What did I do?" John held his hands up helplessly and Ringo gave him another shove which rocked the chair sideways.

A bouncer walked into the room at the moment, calling for everyone to head back upstairs; Ringo envied the unconscious drunkards that were unable to return to the main room. John's laughter didn't subside the entire time they made their way up the stairs, only being silenced when he took a sip of his newly ordered drink. The room had thinned out a little, Ringo supposed the closing of downstairs only signalled that most people were going to start heading home now, but there were clearly many people who were aiming to stay as long as they possibly could. They managed to get two seats at the bar which allowed Ringo to look amongst the crowd nervously for any sight of Spike.

"What are you so worried about?" John asked, leaning his elbow on the counter.

"Honestly I don't know." Ringo chuckled "It's a bit pathetic, huh?"

"You said it, not me." John grinned "No, no it's just strange. I know you're not the world's biggest slut but you're no prude either."

"I don't think it's a prude thing." Ringo suggested.

"Then what?" John pried, he ran his finger around the rim of his glass.

"It's just him." Ringo lowered his voice a little.

"Well shit. Ringo's in love with a stripper." John matched Ringo's volume but enunciated the words enough that he may as well have been shouting.

"Shut up." Ringo shook his head "You're one to talk."

"Don't bring Paulie into this, that's a strictly professional relationship." John pointed his finger in Ringo's face which made him laugh. "This isn't about me anyway, it's about you. I'm not leaving here until you get that dance."

"You might be waiting a while then." Ringo said a little sadly.

"Nope, I refuse. You'll thank me later, I swear to it." John had moved his hand to Ringo's shoulder now.

"I'm just scared." Ringo mumbled.

"Of what? Ringo, these people have put up with the weirdest, creepiest fucks you can imagine. He'll probably be over the moon that you don't look like you belong on a register." John shook Ringo lightly, forcing him to look up at him.

Ringo let out a huff "Fine, if it'll shut you up."

"Sure if that's the line you wanna go with." John chuckled "You want it Ringo, stop denying yourself the pleasure. Be more like me."

"I dunno if I wanna take it that far." Ringo looked out amongst the room again and caught sight of a familiar face.

John followed Ringo's line of sight and beamed when he spotted Spike "Come on then, time to pop your cherry."

"Please don't put it like that." Ringo rolled his eyes as John pulled him up from his seat.

It wasn't really nervousness he was feeling, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what it was. Ringo knew that he if he didn't want to this then he didn't have to, it would've been as simple as that, but he did want to. It was probably exactly how much he wanted it that scared him. Like the feeling that happens right before getting up on stage or before revealing good news to a loved one: excitement so intense it can turn into sickness. And Ringo was excited; he was very, very excited.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

AM Conversations : chapter 39

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.6k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- if you want to be notified when this is updated, please message me or leave a comment!

- you can send me questions and theories and comments. tbh they all make me SO SO SO SOOOO HAPPY! and make me want to write more! you can also tell me if there are things you WANT to happen. you never know, i may add it :P

- note for this chapter: an other tiny smut scene. and a long discussion. they will do more things when he comes back from his trip i promise! but there will still be a few more smut scenes in the future chapters. so yea i promise more action and less discussions in the next few chapters lol and since it took me so long to post this ill try to post an other chapter before friday :)

here are the ‘requests’ i added in this chapter!

Chapter 39 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

I stayed motionless, watching him fill his bag with barely anything, leaning against the door frame. I looked at him as he checked his list, crossing out everything as he added it to his stuff. He was concentrated and I didn't want to bother him, but my whole body was throbbing with stress, fear and sadness. I couldn't tell him that though, because I didn't want him to feel guilty about leaving. He deserved that break and he needed that trip. I would never be the one to stop him from doing anything. I said I was fine with it, and I still meant it, which didn't mean I was not sad to see him leave.

"I'm gonna miss you." I admitted in a low tone, leaning my head against the door frame too and making him turn around.

He took a few steps closer but I didn't move, I just watched him, trying to engrave this image in my head as if I was never going to see him again, as if he was leaving forever. I could swear I read sadness on his face until he sent me a small smile.

"I'm gonna miss you too." he admitted in a soft voice. "But it's only six weeks, right? That's what you said."

I smiled more, trying to reassure him, and licked my lips, pushing myself away from the door and tilting my chin up to look in his eyes. I knew six weeks would go by fast and that it was my own insecurity that made me doubt, but I couldn't stop thinking that so many things could happen in six weeks.

"I know, but i'll miss you anyway."

He bent down to press his lips against mine as his hands reached for my arms. He ran his fingers gently on the, making goosebumps appear on my skin, and I smiled against his mouth. I didn't want to worry about anything. I just wanted to trust him. I wanted to trust that his feelings wouldn't change and that he'd be faithful to me. I had to trust him.

"Oh, by the way, look what I found last time I went home."

I took a few steps back and searched through my backpack, handing him a book with a bigger smile. He took it, staring at it with a frown, and finally sat in bed and opened it. I sat next to him as his eyes roamed on the pictures inside. I followed his hand as he brought it on a picture, his fingertips brushing on my baby face and his own, printed on the glossy paper.

"You really were the cutest kid in the world." I just let out with a chuckle.

He glanced at me but quickly looked back at the pictures, tapping on my face with his finger.

"Me? Look at you, darling!"

I was about 10 on the picture and he was a few years younger but to me, it was already obvious how close we were, even back then. He flipped a few pages and I chuckled when I saw both of us dressed up for Halloween, and then sitting next to a Christmas tree.

"Oh my god, first day of first year!" he exclaimed.

His eyebrows raised and his lips curled and it took me everything to stop looking at him to look away. I felt my heart skip a beat when I noticed how I was looking at him on the picture. He was maybe twelve, and I was about fourteen, but I remember being incredibly happy and excited when he finally joined me in school. Back then, I was extremely bad at hiding my feelings and it was a miracle he never noticed it.

"Even back then I was so in love with you."

He kept silent for a while as we both stared at the picture and I finally turned the page to point at an other picture.

"Last day of third year for you." I pointed out to his smiling face.

He had his arm around me and I squinted my eyes because of the sun but my head was leaned against his shoulder and I remembered everything : how the sunrays felt on my skin and how warm his arm felt on my nape. The memory was so vivid that I could swear I was back in that moment.

"You never noticed the way I looked at you."

His fingers grabbed mine and I held my breath until he turned his head my way and shrugged a shoulder.

"Liv, you always looked at me like that. For me, it was just... how things were. It was just you being you. I knew you loved me as a friend, and I never thought..."

He sighed and looked down at our hands as he rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. He brought his other hand to mine, leaving the photo album on his thighs, and I swallowed hard. I was just being emotional because he was leaving but I couldn't help it.

"If I have to, I will apologize every single day for the rest of my life." he added, making me chuckle and shake my head.

"No, it's alright." I just replied. "I'm not sure twelve-year-old you would have been able to handle hanging out with a girl who was in love with you anyway."

This time, it made him laugh.

"True."

He finally let go of my hand and took his phone on the bedside table, holding it up to take a selfie. I rolled my eyes but moved closer as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder just like in the old picture. He quickly snapped it and I watched him as he made it his phone background.

"On this picture, I know exactly how you feel." he finally says in a very low tone, raising his eyebrows. "And I feel exactly the same."

I brought my hand to his face as my heart twisted in my chest and I closed my eyes only when I felt his lips against mine. I was going to miss that so fucking much. He pulled away and kept looking through the pictures until he stopped suddenly. I noticed a picture from my 18th birthday where I was holding Rian's hand and I expected a cheeky comment from Niall but instead, he kept silent for a while and it made me frown.

"What's wrong?"

"This picture brings back memories, that's all."

I felt my heart jump in my chest when I noticed he was with Holly and I tried to push the dash of jealousy that suddenly invaded me.

"This one? Out of all of them?"

"Every single time Rian kissed you annoyed me. Watching you holding his hand bothered me so much I..."

He looked up in my eyes and my lips parted at his confession. I would have never thought he would admit something like that. I never thought Niall had been jealous because of me and I would have laughed if someone had told me that but he looked sincere and I knew he wouldn't say that just to make me happy.

"I just never really understood why." he added. "I thought it was just because I knew you'd be busy with him and that you'd neglect me."

"Maybe that was why. Maybe it had nothing to do with romantic love."

His eyes roamed on my face and he licked his lips before sighing.

"Maybe."

I grabbed the album from his hands and found a picture of us right before he left for the X-Factor. I took it off the album and handed it to him with a smile. I didn't want to keep whining on the fact that I loved him since forever and that his feelings for me were way more recent. It shouldn't matter and I didn't want to let it ruin the love we had for each other now.

"Do you think you've got some place left for this picture of us in your bag?"

He chuckled, the left corner of his lips curling up, and took the picture in his hand to look at it better.

"Don't forget where you belong." I let out, half-joking, and tilting my head slightly.

He stared at me again and his free hand slipped in my hair, on the back of my head before he pulled me closer to him slowly. He kissed me deeply and my eyes fluttered close. He tasted amazing and it took everything in me not to whimper in his mouth.

"I belong with you Olivia." he breathed, allowing his lips to leave mine for half a second. "And I'll never forget it."

I felt my whole body vibrate somehow due to the words he whispered and I gripped the sheets of the bed, focusing on the way his lips pressed and moved against mine. I knew I didn't have to say that i belonged to him, too. I knew he knew it, and I knew it was obvious. I don't know how long we kissed but when he pulled away, I groaned low and my eyes fluttered open. I felt his hand slip away from my neck and tilted my head to look at him, my heart feeling suddenly lighter even if I knew he was leaving.

"Can I ask you something?" I let out, pressing my lips together.

"Anything."

I moved a bit on the bed to face him, one of my legs bent and the other still hanging off the bed. I loved the way he was looking at me, like stuck in some sort of bliss that I completely understood. In fact, I probably looked even worse.

"Did you ever... masturbate thinking about me? Besides that time after tour."

His eyebrows raised up and his upper body moved back in surprise very slightly, making me blush a bit. I didn't know why I felt the need to ask but I knew it was something I wanted to know. Niall cleared his throat and looked down before looking back in my eyes.

"I spent a lot of time thinking after you admitted your feelings to me and a bunch of things came back to my mind. I remember liking you, I remember lusting you sometimes, but I never really wanted to admit it to myself. It was little things like cuddling together in bed, or on the couch.. or when your hand would brush my thighs... But I was young and I just thought it was hormones, I don't know." he explained as I held my breath. "I remember getting hard sometimes, like when you'd fall asleep on my lap or when you pressed your ass against me while asleep... there's only one time I really touched myself thinking about you, besides that time after tour. It was a few years ago and we were friendly fighting the way we always do but I decided to let you win just to see what you'd do, and you ended up straddling me.. It's just the way you moved over me, fuck."

I laughed a bit, staring at him as he closed his eyes tight. I remembered that day, surprisingly, but straddling Niall was also something I couldn't forget.

"I couldn't stop thinking about it and when you left I just..." he shrugged, raising his eyebrows again. "I just jerked off."

We remained silent for a while as he was looking at me with an amused smile.

"You got hard that time we danced in your living room."

This time, he's the one who laughed before nodding.

"Fuck yea I did." he admitted without shame. "I knew you had noticed, but thanks for not mentioning it back then."

I moved closer to him and brushed my lips against his with a small smile.

"You're welcome." I whispered, turning his smile into a fond one. "So it seems like we have similar tastes in bed."

His eyes roamed on my face and he sent me a cheeky smile. running one of his hands on my arm and leaving a burning trace on my skin. I knew it was because our relationship was still recent, but I always wanting him to touch me and fuck me to the point where I could barely control myself.

"Seems like we do." he agreed in a whisper. "I'd love to hear it though, you said you'd tell me."

I pressed my lips together and moved back a bit to look at him better.

"Like I said, I like to please." I let out, gripping the sheets of the bed harder. "I love when you bite me. I love when you're rough, when you spank me, when you slap me. I love when you choke me, too." I could feel my heart beat hard against my rib cage but I didn't know if it was because of what I was admitting or because of the way he was looking at me. "I love name calling, too."

"Give me examples."

I held my breath for a few seconds and swallowed hard.

"I like 'slut' and 'whore' as much as I like 'princess' and 'little one'."

He nodded slowly and I felt his hand slide on one of my thighs but I kept staring in his eyes. Every single touch always made my whole body throb and I ended up hoping this feeling would never leave.

"I'll remember that."

His other hand reached for my face but he pushed a lock of my hair behind my shoulder very slowly as I licked my lips.

"I love being rough with you. And I love that you're a pleaser." he continued, his eyes dropping to my lips. "But I love watching you shake and moan... I love making you cum. Giving me control also means letting me please you. You think you can do that?"

Slowly, I nodded as he looked back up in my eyes, and I felt my heart jump in my chest at the way he was looking at me. His fingers brushed on my shoulder and down my chest, between my breasts.

"Let's try it now, then." he whispered, moving his chin quickly in my direction.

I held my breath but sat better in bed, leaning against the pillows. I expected him to crawl on top of me and kiss me but he just reached for the button of my jeans and undid them before pulling them down as I moved my butt up to help him. I felt nervous but tried to remember that he saw me naked plenty of times and he was not going to decide to drop me because of what I looked like naked now. He moved my shirt slightly up and ran two of his fingers between my legs, over my panties.

"How about we make you wet these panties first?"

Once again, my heart jumped in my chest and I watched him bend down and open one of his drawers to get something but it's only when I noticed the vibrator in his hand that my lips parted. It wasn't one of mine and I realized that he had bought it just for me. He didn't ay anything and I didn't dare ask all the questions burning my lips. Instead, I held my breath until he pressed it between my legs, sliding it slowly. I felt my lips part as he pushed it harder and let out a very low whimper when it brushed on my clit. After only a few seconds, he turned it on and my eyes fluttered close as I let out a curse word.

"Really? That easy?" he chuckled and I felt his free hand brush gently on my thighs. It stopped at my knee and he pulled on it a bit to spread my legs slightly more. "So glad you put black panties on. I can already tell how horny you're getting."

I felt my hips jerk a bit when he turned the speed on and once again, my hands gripped the sheets on each side of me. I was too focused on the pleasure I was getting that it's only when he whispered that he realized he had moved closer.

"Keep your eyes open."

His voice was harsh even if he was talking low and it took me everything to open my eyes again. His lips curled into a smirk and once again, I held my breath as I tried not to squirm too much. He pressed the vibrator more on my clit and I whimpered again, making him smirk even more,

"Fuck, you look good, I'm getting so hard looking at you."

He moved away slightly and looked between my legs before moving his gaze back up. I knew I was getting close to an orgasm and I moaned a bit louder, feeling incredibly aroused by t eh fact that I didn't have any control on my own pleasure.

"You're soaking your panties." he added. "Love watching my little princess turn into a good little slut."

My heart skipped many beats and I almost came right after he talked, his words making my whole body throb in rhythm with my inner thighs.

"Oh god, Niall..." the words escaped my lips in a mix of a whimper and a whisper and he moved closer, dipping his head near my neck and biting my skin gently. "I'm gonna cum..."

"Not now." he quickly replied, making my heart jump. "Not until I tell you to."

"I don't know how long I can last." I admitted, gripping the sheets harder.

"Then beg me."

He moved his face back up and our eyes met. I let mine roam on his face and started biting my bottom lip hard as I tried not to grind on the vibrator he was holding tightly against me.

"Please, Niall, let me cum." I let out in a pleading tone. "Please I really need it."

I quickly brought my hand to his wrist but he started moving it and feeling it rub against my clit along with the vibrations made me moan louder than I intended. I couldn't stop myself and starting grinding on it as he brought his head closer to mine and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me deeply. He swallowed my moans and I felt my nails dig in the skin of his wrist as I tried to hold my orgasm. Slowly, he pulled away and I felt myself get dizzy from the effort I was making.

"You can cum petal, cum for me."

I felt a sensation of relief wash over me just as an orgasm hit me and I started shaking, closing my eyes despite myself. A bunch of curse words came out of my lips along with his name and when I came down from my high, I felt my panties slip down my legs. He moved over me and his mouth pressed against mine as he kissed me eagerly and roughly.

"I thought I could resist but I can't, I need to feel myself inside you."

His words made me chuckle a bit but I stopped immediately when he pushed himself inside me. I could feel myself throb hard around him because of my orgasm and he groaned against my lips, nibbling gently on my bottom one.

"I'm sorry, it won't take long."

I enjoyed the way his body weighted on mine as he pushed himself in and out of me quickly and brought my arms around his neck.

"You feel so good." I confessed low, tilting my chin up and closing my eyes. "Don't stop."

His lips brushed against my chin and he groaned again.

"You're so fucking wet, princess. you're gonna make me cum."

A shiver crossed my body at the thought and I slipped one of my hands in his hair. I moved my knees up to feel im deeper inside me and moved my hips this way, making him moan.

"Please do it." I begged again, letting out a low whimper as his movements became unsteady. "Please."

He buried his face in my neck again, gripping the sheets on each side of my head and pulling himself closer to me as he came. I felt him shake lightly over me and ran my hands down his back until his ass. It's only when he started panting that I realized I could have reached an other orgasm.

I thought he'd move away from me the way he always does but he remained on top of me as my fingertips brushed on his back, under his shirt. We kept silent for a while and I felt his lips leave small kisses from time to time on the skin of my neck.

It was one of those moments where you realize how lucky you are and how your life turned out exactly the way you wanted. I felt a wave of love and happiness flood my inside and held him tighter against me.

"I would like to make love sometimes, too."

His lips stopped moving against me and slowly, he moved up to look in my eyes. The way he looked at me made my heart melt in my chest and all I could hear was the sound of my heart beating against my rib cage.

"I'll make love to you any time you want me to."

I felt something stir in my stomach and brought my hands to cup his face. My lips parted and I wanted to tell him how much I loved him but the words got stuck in my throat. I knew that if I talked, my voice would crack and I would probably cry a bit. His lips curled in a fond smile and he licked them before bending closer and kissing my lips.

"I love you too, and i'll miss you too."

I sent him a smile and he quickly pecked my lips before getting under the blankets. I sat up in bed to go turn the lights off and noticed the photo album laying on the floor. It probably fell when we were having sex and I just stared at one of the pictures on the page. Niall had his arm around my neck, holding me close, and kissing my cheek with a beer in one of his hands. I had grabbed the fingers of his other hand and my eyes were closed but I was probably a bit too tipsy to actually remember that picture being taken. I left it there and got up to turn the lights off and finally lied back down in bed, under the covers. I thought Niall was already asleep but when he talked, I instinctively moved closer.

"I bought the vibrator for you." he let out as I cuddled him, my head on his shoulder and my arm around his waist. "So you can use it when i'm gone."

"I'll use it, I promise." I whispered. "I'll think about you while using it."

He chuckled and turned his face my way to kiss the top of my head, making me smile more. I felt his hand on my back and his thumb started caressing my skin gently. I couldn't stop thinking that the next day, i'd have to sleep alone in bed and it made me want to cry.

"Can I stay here while you're gone?"

I felt like it wouldn't be as hard to be without him if I was in his stuff, spending time at his place, sleeping in his bed... It would feel like he was still sort of with me. I couldn't imagine going back to my empty and cold apartment and wait for six weeks until he'd come back.

His hand stopped moving on me and maybe I imagined it, but I felt him tense next to me. It made me frown and I moved my head up to look at him.

"You don't want me to stay here?"

I didn't know why but it hurt me and I I held my breath, noticing he was avoiding my eyes.

"No, it's not that, it's just.." he shook his head and I moved my upper body up a bit, holding myself with my hand on the mattress and looking down at him. He finally looked in my eyes and his traits softened slightly. "You can stay just.. don't make a mess, okay?"

My eyes roamed on his face and although I shouldn't I felt a bit annoyed by his words. I didn't want to fight with him, especially knowing he was leaving the next morning, and I decided to just nod slightly and lay my head back on his shoulder. It took a few minutes and he finally sighed, turning his face my way again and pressing his lips on the top of my head.

"I'm sorry." he let out sincerely. "I want you to stay here. Maybe you could even stay here... all the time?"

Once again I held my breath, feeling my whole body throb as the room went completely silent. I just stared at his chest for a few seconds, thinking about everything it implied.

"You don't really want to live with me." I pointed out, letting one of my hands brush around his belly button. "Trust me."

"I do." he chuckled, pulling me closer to him, his warm hand burning the skin of my back. "I wanted to ask you even before we started dating."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and finally looked up at him again. He was sending me an amused smile and this time, I couldn't help but smile back.

"Really?"

"Really." he repeated. "Didn't you ever think about us living together?"

I felt my cheeks burn, glad that we were in the dark, and raised a shoulder.

"I did, but I was scared we'd never sleep in the same bed if I had my own room here."

This time, he's the one who looked surprised and clearly, it was not something that had crossed his mind. His expression made me chuckle and he nodded slowly.

"Fair point. But not relevant anymore."

I nodded and sent him a loving smile, tilting my head. I really wanted to move in with him but I was also scared it would result into useless fights and I wanted to avoid that more than anything. We were together, we were happy, and I didn't want to ruin it. Still, the thought of sharing a place with him was extremely tempting. I knew I was at his place most of the time but having an apartment where I kept all my stuff and where I could always go whenever I needed to be alone was reassuring, for both of us. He wanted to make the big jump though and he asked me. That, in itself, proved how dedicated he was to this relationship and I owed him to be just as devoted as he was. I loved him and It was scary to think of all the things I was ready to do for him but I was confused and it made a pain appear suddenly in my stomach. I just wanted to make the right decision... the one that would insure us a future. I wanted this to last, I needed this to last. I didn't know what i'd do if it didn't.

I brought my hand to his face and brushed my thumb gently on his cheek. I felt so in love that I had to swallow a lump of affection stuck in my throat before bending down and kissing his lips.

"I'll think about it."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #my fanfics #amc #idk how to apologize for this tbh #i feel like its going so slowly #but its really needed guys #i promise problems and tears and stuff

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meetthemoosemonster · 4 years

Text

Glowing Eyes and Shimmering Scales

Introducing: Layla, Sam, Lonna, Jay, and a fuck ton of other side characters, places, and organizations that i didnt really explain, but im to lazy to write something that will explain everything, which will become relevant in the future! Maybe! If I summon the will to write!

also, sorry that I don't post consistently at all, but I hope you enjoy the writing, under the cut.

This is probably going to be a part one for a certain chain of events, and then ill disapear for months agian, so sorry ahead of time, lol.

Tw: abusive parents, torture, emotional breakdowns

Layla's wings flapped as she landed on the training area platform, and saw the instructor stride up to her, looking concerned.

“Layla, you have to leave. Your father is coming, and what he's bringing is not suitable for you to see.”

“Come on Lonna, can’t I stay? I'm going to be of age soon, I need to know what Kron is dealing with.”

“May i remind you that you are not of age yet, and the king still has control over you. Please go back to the cave, its safer there.” Lonna pleaded, fear lighting up her eyes.

“Ok, fine.” Layla grumbled, and started to shift into a dragon in order to get across the castle quickly. But just as she started to flap her wings, a thud was heard behind her, followed by shouts and faint whimpers. Which sounded familiar. Layla turned around to look back at the platform, and saw Sam laying on the ground, shackled, bleeding and shaking violently as the guards sent shocks through his body with wires attached to his temples. Next to him, her father stood, glaring at the child on the ground.

“S-Sam?” Layla could barely breathe, stopped in her tracks as she saw what was happening to Sam only a few feet away. Lonna started to push Layla away, trying to get her to leave, but the king looked up anyway.

“Layla? What in the hell are you doing here?” Laylas fathers voice boomed as he advanced upon Lonna and Layla. “I told you to make sure she wasn't here? You will regret this.”

“O-ok your highness, I'm sorry, I should have-” Lonna stuttered, shaking in fear.

“Dad? What the hell is happening? What are you doing to Sam? Is this why you never tell me shit? Because you're torturing him? Is this-” Layla was cut off by the kings tail slapping her across her face. The tip of his tail scratched at the skin around her eye, leaving blood to trickle down her cheek. She could hear Lonna gasp as the sound of the slap echoed around the training platforms walls.

“Don't speak of things you'll never understand.” the king growled. Layla just stared at him in shock, holding her cheek. He turned to Lonna, who was trying to not glare at him “Why is she still here? I thought I told you to make sure she was long gone.”

“Oh! U-um, I'm- I'm sorry your highness. She came late, and I didn't have time to make sure she had left before you got here.” At the shaky words of Lonna, the king turned to his daughter. “And why were you late?”

“I-I,” Layla was shaking. She was still clutching her cheek and eye, her mind reeling. She knew that her dad had just hit her. She never thought he would go that far. She started thinking about the time that Jay had come back to the cave with a swollen cheek. Anger flared in her chest, her fists tightened, and her skin turned scaly. Her nails grew longer and sharper and cut into her palms. “Did you hit Jay too? How much do I not know about you? And what the HELL are you doing to Sam?” Layla was still shaking, but now she was angry.

“He is a prisoner, and he is treated accordingly. You have no business questioning my authority.” The King returned her glare, then snarled. “You need to leave. Lonna, Make sure she goes to the cave, and doesn't leave. We will talk about this later. Remember, you aren't queen yet Layla. Not for a long time. If I have to correct you all the time, there will be consequences.” Layla started shaking from fear at the word ‘consequences’. Lonna grabbed Layla's arm, and started to pull her away. Layla looked back at her dad as he turned around and advanced on Sam. Sam looked over at Layla in the midst of his pain, and they locked eyes. Layla tried to give Sam a look, hoping Sam would understand what she meant. Sam nodded everso slightly before being shocked back into the torture. Lonna made sure Layla was turned around before she could see Sam again, and they both jumped off the cliff, transforming into their dragon forms in midair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they reached the cave where Layla, and her little sister, Jay lived, Layla turned back to her human form right before she landed, and Lonna shook her head at the young girl. Usually Layla would have done a flip, or rolled her eyes at Lonnas disapproval, but her eyes were still red, tears ready to fall from her eyes. Once she noticed Lonna looking concerned at her, Layla wiped the tears and blood away, and shook her head, trying to return to normal.

“Oh honey,” Lonna said, and hugged Layla. “I'm so sorry you had to see that. You are ok, right? He didn't hurt you too bad?” Layla remembered her cheek and eye, and felt it throbbing again.

“Oh, I guess I forgot. I’m ok Lonna, I swear, stop worrying about everything, god.” Layla tried to cover up her choked voice with teenage annoyance. But Lonna saw right through it.

“Come on honey, let's get you inside, and take a look at your cheek.” The two of them walked into the cave, and Lonna had Layla sit down on the couch in her room. She started to take care of the swollen skin, grabbing a box of magical ointments from the kitchen. Lonna started to hum childrens songs about ghost stories and dragon legends and such and Layla started to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. But then she heard her sister land on the ledge, and run through the door.

“You won't believe what Mica got me!” Jay ran into Laylas room, a wide smile across her face, but it faded when she saw Layla. Layla sat up. “Oh no, are you ok?”

“Yeah, im ok Jay, dont worry about it, training just got a little too aggressive today, that's all.” Jay gave her a weird look.

“Ok, if you say so. Anyway, look at the necklace Mica got me!”

“OoooOh, so Micas giving you necklaces now. It's almost like your, um, DATING?” Layla fake gasped, and started laughing with Jay. Lonna smiled, but then got serious.

“Jay, you have to be careful, you know your dad doesn't want you dating a citizen, much less Mica.”

“I Know, he wont find out, it's all good. Please, just let me have this Lonna?” Lonna nodded, but still looked worried. Jay continued to talk about her day with Mica, and after a while, layla zoned out, and began making a list in her head of the things she would need, and her plan to get Sam out, and FAR away. Shed never really liked him, but she couldn’t let him suffer like that, not now that she knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Layla was packing her bag, going through the list she had come up with earlier.

“Ok, i've got a change of clothes for me, and for Sam, warmer clothes for when it gets cold at night, the straps and blankets for my back that sam can stay on, blankets for when we sleep, enough food for 2 weeks, a water filter, some matches for Sam, and a map. I think that's everything-” Layla stopped when she heard Lonna in the doorway. She threw the bag under her bed quickly, then looked up to see that Lonna had been there the entire time.

“Don't worry, i won't tell your dad, or anyone else, i promise.” Lonna said before Layla could even open her mouth. “Take it from someone with a history of running away, don't expect that anything will go as planned, make sure you have something from the people you're leaving behind.” Lonna threw a necklace over to Layla, who caught it, then turned it over in her hand. “It's a scale from each person in your family. Jay, Me, Mica, Nao, your mom, and your dad. And one of your scales too. I thought you might want to have something to have from us when you're gone.”

“No, I can't take this, I'll be back right away, I just need to get Sam out, I'll be back before they even realize what happened, so you should keep it.” Layla held out the necklace for Lonna to take, but she just shook her head.

“Even so, keep it. I made it for you. regardless of whether you leave or not, I want you to have it.” Lonna smiled sadly at Layla. Layla looked down at the necklace as the six scales shimmered and clinked together.

“Ok, I guess I’ll keep it, but I'll be right back, seriously.”

“Ok honey, just be safe for me, ok? Promise me that you'll be safe. And give me a hug before you go.” Layla nodded, and hugged Lonna tight.

“I promise, I'll be safe. And thank you Lonna, thank you for everything.” Layla felt Lonna nod, and tighten her grip before finally releasing.

“Is there anything you want me to tell Jay? Just in case I mean?”

“Um, I actually wrote her a note already. Can you give it to her if i don't come back?”

“Of course honey, I'll give it to her.” Layla handed the folded up piece of paper to lonna, and then clasped the necklace around her neck.

“I'm going to go hang out with Jay now, bye, I love-” Layla stopped herself, but then noticed that Lonnas eyes were tearing up, and she was looking at her so tenderly. “Um, I love you Lonna. Thank you for basically being me and Jay's mom when Mom died. And sorry for all the times I messed up, I know I'm kinda a lot.”

“Oh baby, you're not a lot, it's an honor to be your step in mom for you and Jay. I love you too honey, come here.” Lonna hugged Layla again, and Layla hugged back. They stayed like that for a while, then Lonna let go, and wiped the tears off her face. “Ok, go say bye to your sister kiddo, and remember, i love you.” Lonna walked out of the room and went to the kitchen.

Layla took a deep breath before going into her sisters room. She listened to Jay talk about the karaoke date that she was planning for her and Mica for their anniversary, the big test she had coming up next week, and her concert.

“Hey, you'll be there, right? Dad obviously doesn't want to go, you know how he is with that stuff, it's next weekend, and you don't have training that day, so you'll be there?” Jay looked at Layla. Layla's breath caught, and her heart dropped down to her stomach.

“Oh,...um, yeah, i'll be there.” Layla tried to remind herself that she would be back before the concert, she would be right back. There was no reason to worry.

“Awesome! We sound really cool, we've been working on this set for a couple months now, it's not easy AT ALL.”Jay looked over to see her sister looking like she would throw up. “Hey, you sure you're ok? You've been acting weird ever since you got home, and so has Lonna.”

“Oh, it's ok Jay, I'm fine, just tired, long day, you know how it is.” Layla yawned, trying to act tired.

“...Ok, if you say so, but somethings up, I know it. You don't have to tell me, but somethings up.” Jay hugged Layla. “Hey, whatever is happening, please just be careful, you know how dad is.”

Layla chuckled. “Yeah, I know, don’t worry about it.” Layla hugged Jay back. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Yeah. I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually Jay had fallen asleep in Layla's arms, and Lonna came and stood in the doorway and whispered, “You should go now, I'll make sure she's safe.” Layla nodded, and gently moved her little sister off of her, and under the blankets. She kissed Jay's head, hugged Lonna again, and slung the straps with the bags and blankets attached across her body. Once she was outside she took a deep breath and then jumped silently off the ledge, wings sprouting from her back, scales raising across her skin, claws growing from her fingers, and her tail slicing through the air. She felt the straps slide into place as she turned. She began gliding silently toward the dungeons, hoping that Sam had used Sight to see the plan she had written down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the dungeon Sam was shivering in the corner. He dug his fingernails into his palms hard, and his eyes began to glow white as a vision triggered.

The wind was roaring past his head, and he heard the flapping of wings. Panicked he looked around, expecting to see the king. Instead he saw the mountains in the distance, and bursts of light coming from Layla's mouth as she breathed fire for warmth. He noticed he was sitting on the dragons back, on top of blankets, and surrounded by a couple bags of supplies. He looked behind him, and saw the Gorge and castle falling away behind them as the distance grew. Sam started to turn back around, but his vision flared white, then black.

Sam returned to the dark, damp cell, his heart beating fast.

“It's ok, you're ok, you're getting out.” Sam whispered to himself trying to calm down after the vision. He would panic after even good visions because of how defenseless he was after them. “At least I was able to control it today. I didn't See until I wanted to, which is progress.”

“Yes, it is” Sam jumped when he heard someone else whisper next to him. A burst of orange fire sparked near his head, illuminating the cell with dim light for a second before it died out. Sam saw Layla's face before the light faded.

“Oh, Layla, you scared the shit outta me. Are we going now?”

“Yeah, come on, the guards are sleeping, but now for long, we have to go right now.”

“Ok, cool.” Once they had escaped the dungeons, Layla turned back into a dragon, and Sam climbed on her back and sat down on the blankets.

“I packed you some new clothes in the green bag, and some food and water that you can eat, cause I bet you're hungry.” Layla growled to the best of her ability in dragon form.

“Oh, you think?” Sam immediately started rifling through the bag, pulling out the clothes, and a container of food. “Thanks dude, I owe you one.” Layla just snorted, and took off, causing Sam to get jolted back, and nearly drop the clothes and food. “Hey! Warn a person, for the love of Sight Layla.” Sam changed into the new clothes, ate a sandwich, and drank some water. He saw his vision carry out in real life, and breathed a sigh of relief. Eventually he patted Layla's neck, then tied himself down so he wouldn't fall off, and went to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long day of flying non stop, avoiding all towns and traces of dragons as to not be seen, Layla eventually reached the forest that bordered Kron and Verlorn. She landed in the forest, and let Sam get off her back before she transformed back to human form.

“Hey, Sam, we're going to rest here for a bit, then you can go off on your own to Verlorn and meet up with the travelers there, they should be able to help you. I'll see you to the border, then make my way back to the Gorge. It'll only be two days, so hopefully my dad will think that i just needed a break and went to the woods for a bit.” Layla started to take off the straps and bags, and started to set up a little lean-to for her to sleep under for a bit.

“Wait, hold up dude.” Sam was looking at Layla, concern etched across his face. ‘Your telling me that you think you can go back? He hit you! And he’ll do it again. You can't go back, it's so obvious that you got me out, if you go back, you'll be killed, 100 percent.” Layla looked at Sam, starting to panic. “Even Lonna told me to make sure you make it to the Resistance base in Verlorn, she said that you had to get out and stop your dad? You didn't know?”

“L-Lonna? But- But she wouldn't do that. She couldn't.” Layla was hyperventilating. She looked down at her necklace, and grabbed lonnas scale remembering what lonna had said to her before she left. “Is that why?”

“I'll take that as a no…”

“I-...I have to go back, i have to go back, right now. He- he wouldn’t hurt me again, he cares. Yeah, he gets angry sometimes, but that-” Layla's eyes filled with tears, and she felt like she was being punched in the gut.

“And I thought I had issues, my god. Dude, he doesn't care about you, he's kinda evil if you didn't notice? How do you not see that?” Layla didn't even look at him, but her breathing got more rapid.

”I have to go back, I want to go back. I can't leave him, I can't leave them.” Layla was full out sobbing now, hunched over as if her stomach hurt, and to be honest, it did. “Oh no, Jay, i cant- i cant- I have to go back, i can't leave her, i promised her, I PROMISED HER. I can't just leave. Oh my god, no, nononononono. I have to go back, i have to go back now.” Layla forced herself to stand up straight, and began to walk toward a clearing so she could fly back. Sam ran in front of her, and grabbed her arms.

“You can't go, he’ll kill you Layla. We have to find my brother, then we’ll be safe.” Layla started to push past him, still sobbing, but he wrapped his arms around her. Almost immediately Layla sunk to the ground, sobbing and screaming.

“I have to go back, i have to, i should have never left, it wasnt supposed to go like this, this wasnt the plan, THIS WASNT THE FUCKING PLAN.”

“I know, but you can't go back.” Sam looked around, unsure how to deal with the situation. “Layla, do you trust Lonna? She seemed to care about you alot, she wouldn't let you do something that she didn't think you needed to do.” Layla was still sobbing on the ground, whispering ‘i have to go back’ under her breath over and over again. Eventually she nodded a little, but then closed her eyes. Sam held her for a while, before getting her to move under the lean-to, and wrapped her in a blanket. Layla drifted off to sleep, exhausted, and Sam just stood watch, occasionally looking over at Layla, worried, and confused at her response.

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moonlightkitkat · 5 years

Text

You forgot this

Prompt: “I Swear I’m not a creep! You just forgot your wallet and i just wanted to give it back to you!”

words: 1162

It was a slow morning at the cafe, which was always welcome. Weekends were usually less busy then the weekdays, since people had their days off and such, and she never minded working on them. There were only a few regulars today, as well as a newcomer, a tall blonde who’s name was Felix.

He ordered a pure black coffee, but she saw him put in several sugars in it after he ordered. She found it funny, he knew he could just order the coffee with however many sugars he wanted right? Or were they the only ones to do that?

Since there weren't any more customers coming, and she finished the orders she already had, she decided to just sketch in her sketchbook a little,coming up with new designs for the boxes in her parents' bakery. They'd had the same ones for a while now, it was time for an update.

Soft music played in the cafe, creating a calm and relaxed atmosphere. Even though this was work, she truly did enjoy the cafe, especially when it wasn't busy and she got to relax like this.

After a few songs played, she looked up and surveyed the room. It seemed a few people left, leaving their mugs out on the table. Closing her book, she stood up and walked around with her tray, placing the dirty mugs on it to be dumped of their leftover contents and washed. Stopping at a small table by the window, she noticed something. A thick leather wallet was sitting there, abandoned on the chair. Sighing softly, she picked it up to look at the ID.

It wasn't rare that customers left their wallets, and she always called them to let them know where it was so they wouldn't have to worry. To her surprise though, the id had a card with it, a business card. She sucked in a breath as she read the name.

Agreste. Felix Agreste.

The son of one of the biggest fashion lines in all of Paris, heir to the company. That was who he was? The boy who put an insane amount of sugar into his coffee was the same stern, quiet, and cold man she read about in the media? To say it was hard to believe they were the same person was an understatement.

Glancing back at the counter, she quickly set the tray down, slipping off her apron and hanging it up. “Hey Alya! I’m heading out for a bit, I should be back in about ten minutes!”

Her best friend and coworker poked her head out from the back room, fixing her ponytail. “Emergency at the bakery?” she guessed.

Usually that was the reason for her suddenly taking off work for a little bit, but not this time. “Someone forgot his wallet.”

The brunette’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why don't you just call him then?”

“His workplace is nearby, i figured id save him the trouble.”

A Knowing smirk appeared on Alya’s face, and she chuckled in amusement. “If you say so girl. Go on go on, ill hold the cafe over while your gone. Just get back soon Mari, we don't get as many customers when your cute face isn't at the register,” she winked.

Marinette’s face flushed at her words, and she quickly left the shop.

The Agreste Manor wasn't too far from the shop, just down the block. Lots of workers for the agrestes usually came to jer shop to get their fix of caffeine before the day started, but she’d never seen the agreste’s themselves come in. usually they had cooks of their own, as well as a few butlers. Would they have butlers? She had no idea what rich people were like, save for Chloe, and she only hoped the Agreste’s weren't like that. Then again, Adrien was a sweetheart, so they couldn't be that bad.. Right?

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even realized she'd made it to the manor until she bumped into someone. Startled out of her thoughts, she looked up in surprise, her eyes widening as her eyes met with beautiful cool blue grey eyes, with a hint of green in them. It was Felix. She stumbled backwards, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. Somehow he seemed a lot smaller when he was on the other side of the counter. Now? Now he was so tall, she barely reached his shoulder!

“H-Hi,” she stuttered, forgetting for a moment why she was there.

The boy did nothing but stare at her, his expression unreadable. All at once she remembered why she came, and she quickly held out the wallet, watching as his eyes widened, surprise apparent.

“You're the girl from the cafe,” he noticed, his voice full of suspicion. She suddenly realized that he thought she had stolen it, and her eyes widened in horror.

“You uh, forgot this! So I brought it back!” Her face flushed with embarrassment.

The wallet left her hands, and she watched as he flipped through his wallet, no doubt checking to make sure she didn't steal anything. When he was satisfied, he looked down at her, pocketing his wallet.

“Thank you miss…

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.”

His eyes had a spark of recognition in it, and he looked at her in a new light. “Related to the owners of the bakery I presume?”

The tension in her shoulders faded a little, and she offered a warm smile. “My parents own the bakery. I used to help there when i was younger.”

He nodded his head, a slight smile appearing on his face. “My brother has talked about you, he speaks highly of your bakery, even if our father doesn't approve of the sweets.”

GIggling, Marinette nodded. “I remember. He always wanted our croissants, so id sneakhim some at school when I could.”

“He told me about that, he'd come home with a drunken smile and would whine about how he wanted to live in the bakery and eat everything there. Our father knew nothing of the secret sweets.”

They both chuckled at the memories, finding a topic that they both had fond memories of: Adrien.

“I don't suppose you'd want to come inside?” He asked carefully.

Marinette’s eyes widened,and she glanced back in the direction of her cafe, chewing her lip. “I’d love to.. But Alya’s all alone in the shop..”

Nodding his head, Felix looked down at her. “Of course. The offer still stands though, as thanks for returning my wallet.” He turned to walk within the gates of the Manor before pausing, looking back. “Im sure Adrien would like to see you as well. Thank you again Marinette.” With that he headed into the white manor, and Marinette took in a slow breath before returning to her cafe, a soft smile on her face.

“Felix.. He isn't so bad.” Definitely like the coffee he orders. Pretends to be bitter and plain, but is secretly sweet.

#ML #miraculous season 3 #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #marinette #felix month #felinette #aged up #coffee shop #alya cesaire #adrien #adrien agreste

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sunrisespidey · 5 years

Text

ceo!tom

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: ceo!tom falls in love with smoothie-loving intern, y/n

word count: 5.9k im sorry

a/n: i’m literally never writing shit like this again wtf?? the ending is so rushed and i’m rlly sorry but i got so bored of this i just wanted it out and done with. it was 14 pages on google docs bye

it’s a different style that i usually write in, but i wanted to branch out so idk let me know what you thought about it?

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP! I WORKED ON THIS FOR LIKE A WEEK

warnings: swearing, long read, and unedited

masterlist ♡

Y/N’s made a mistake.

Or at least, that’s what she thinks, staring up at the daunting skyscraper that towered before her, with the large Holland and Co. sign glinting under the bright glare of the sun. How had she ended up here? Her, a struggling college student, and yet here she was, interning at one of the biggest business firms in England. It really didn’t add up. It’s all been a blur. She remembers getting the phone call, being told to arrive at, and she quotes, “7AM on the dot, tardiness will not be tolerated”, and it’s almost as though she’s reliving high school all over again, only this time around, her future is actually on the line.

Which is probably why she’d dragged herself out of bed at 4 in the morning, and then proceeded to spend an hour pep talking herself in the mirror. Was it too late to back out now? She figures if she turns back and leaves, she can probably make it back to her apartment in 20 minutes flat, and then she can call in faking an illness or whatnot. After that, she can stay in, snuggled up to her cat, Dusty, and stay curled up in front of her tv with a warm mug of hot cocoa in her hands and an episode of The Office playing quietly in the background. (This, she decides, smiling internally, is her ideal day.) She’s almost ready to give in, leaning back to book it, the idea of leaving almost too enticing. Instead, she finds herself placing one foot in front of the other. Y/N doesn’t even know what motivates her to take that step forward, the step that began to lead her to those terrifying glass doors, but she’s managed to take a second step, then a third, a fourth, and—

A rush of warmth surrounds her, sending a shiver through her body, and she immediately misses the cold outdoor winds that previously nipped at her ears. Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever wanted to venture back out into the cold winter as much as she does at this moment. Her eyes stay trained on the ground, and she dreads the moment she’ll have to inevitably look up, so she doesn’t. Instead, she studies the marble floors (they’re really nice, she should consider investing in something similar, she thinks), until she hears a voice, practically coated with sugar, pipe up.

“Excuse me, Miss?” Her head whips up, swallowing nervously, and she’s greeted by a lady who looks to be in her mid-twenties with a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face (fake, no doubt, but really, who was she to judge?), head tilted in concern. “Are you lost?”

She considers saying no just to turn back around rather than face the fire, but she steels her nerves and sends her an abashed smile. “Yeah, I am. Would you mind helping me?” And Y/N nearly cringes at her attempts to be polite but continues anyways. “I’m an intern, Y/N Y/L/N?”

She isn’t really listening when the receptionist lady answers, and she knows she should’ve, but she listens to the lady drone on, the same smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes glued to her face, and Y/N wonders what kind of toothpaste she uses to whiten. Somehow, Y/N finds herself being whisked away and up into the elevator, where she finally starts paying attention long enough to meet a kind woman who she remembers is named Nadine and would be her shadow for her time at Holland and Co.

She listens attentively (or at least she tries), as Nadine gives her a tour of the floor, and she can’t help but wish that she brought along a strawberry smoothie. She ends up so lost in thought that she nearly stumbles into Nadine after she stops abruptly, and Y/N peeks around her to see what’s happened. She’s startled when the noise reaches her ears, and she realizes that it’s a grown man backing away slowly from an office, pleading for someone to rethink their decision.

“Please, Mr. Holland, I’ll do better next time, please—” Y/N hears the slam before she sees it, yelping quietly at the shock of it, the noise still reverberating through the office. Her eyes blow wide, mouth gaping. She hopes she never comes in contact with this Mr. Holland.

Y/N finds that the tour ends quickly after that.

It’s not that Tom’s a cruel person.

He doesn’t jerk off to the thought of firing employees — he’s most certainly not a masochist — it’s just that he works with absolute morons. So really, what’s he supposed to do when some twat from accounting screws up some simple numbers that cost his company 10,000 pounds? (it’s not like his company can’t afford it, but the thought still makes a scowl form on his face) The only reasonable choice he can make is to fire the man, and it certainly isn’t his fault if the twit stumbles out of his office blubbering about how he’ll do better. And it definitely isn’t his fault if a cute, smoothie-loving intern witnesses the whole thing, because why does it matter if a bloody intern is afraid of him? (at least, that’s what he tries to convince himself)

(spoiler alert: it doesn’t work)

It’s day two, and Y/N thinks she’s made some friends.

She’s promised to bring each of them a smoothie (“They’re the light of my life,” she’d said, “can’t live without ‘em.”), which explains why she’s currently juggling four smoothies, one for herself and each of her new friends and, Sarah, Jacqueline, and Mike, while arriving at work at 6:50 in the morning. She’s so focused on carrying the drinks, eyeing each one with a careful precision that she fails to see the man donning a crisp suit (expensive. Gucci, maybe?), and a stern expression on his face, walking in front of her. She doesn’t realize that he’s been eyeing her the entire time, face softened into an unusual smile, rarely seen around the office. And she definitely doesn’t notice when he stops walking — at least, not until it was too late.

It all happens in slow motion to Y/N. She watches, helpless, as the smoothies in her hand tipped, and as Tom Holland, CEO of Holland and Co., turned around to be met with not one, nor two, nor three, but four strawberry smoothies. His mouth gapes, and hers does too, a quiet but sharp “oh fuck,” spilling from her lips. She stands, motionless, for less than a second before she’s sprung in motion, leaping for the nearest towels, endless apologies spewing from her lips.

This is it. Months of effort to even be considered for this position, and she’s fucked it up on the second day.

Y/N waits, eyes closed, preparing for the inevitable blow of being fired, the humiliation she’d face (god knows the entire floor was already staring at them wide-eyed), but to her surprise, it never comes. Instead, the towels are plucked from her hands, and her eyes snap open to be met with the prettiest face she thinks she’s ever come across, amusement flitting through their eyes.

“Don’t do that again, yeah, love?” And he’s gone, strolling away from her stunned form, so casually that Y/N wonders how he can ignore the smoothie dripping off his suit so easily. The rest of the floor stare after him as well, each of them with eyes blown wide and mouths hanging open.

Tom has no idea what just happened.

He’s got smoothie dripping from his suit that — mind you — was quite possibly one of his most expensive clothing investments, and he’s not even that angry about it. He isn’t really sure what had happened. He remembers looking over at the intern, Y/N, he remembers (and god, was she adorable), and then suddenly being drenched in a thick, gooey substance that suspiciously smelled like strawberries. Had it been anybody else, Tom’s sure they’d be out of his company faster than they could blink. But there was something about Y/N that captivated him, and he isn’t sure he’d be able to handle firing her over such a trivial mistake (of course, he’s fired employees over less, but he dismisses that thought). So instead, he’d strolled away as casually and as quickly as he possibly could force himself to act, trying to disguise the red blush that would’ve surely risen to his cheeks and turned his ears a bright, piercing red. His heart had pounded in his chest, so loud he wonders if Y/N had heard it, and as soon as he was out of sight, he’d darted into his office and shut the door.

His heart is still pounding in his chest, and he has no idea how some intern he’s never even said more than three sentences to can have such an impact on him. (Tom almost considers turning to Harrison for advice, but he would prefer not to be called a sap for the rest of his life) So, he strips himself of his smoothie-soaked suit jacket and prays to avoid any future interaction with Y/N.

Of course, Tom’s wish refused to come true, because the next morning, walking into the building, he bumps into her again.

Well, not literally. He’s strolling leisurely into the warm building, shooting a tight-lipped smile to the receptionist who always seemed to be showing a ridiculous amount of cleavage whenever he came around when he hears his name being called and the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning around, he crosses his fingers desperately, hoping that it was some other employee — preferably one that didn’t make his heart skip a beat at the mere thought of them.

But he’s still met with the sight of Y/N running through the doors of the building, regardless of his desperate wishes. It only takes a few seconds for her to catch up to his still figure, and when she does, she bends over, panting with her hands resting on her knees.

“Holy fu— sorry, language. M’so out of shape,” Y/N heaves, straightening up and wiping at her head, “you’re so fast, wow—” Tom finds himself unable to respond, head dizzy from her presence. He’s pretty sure if she knew he was taking such deep breaths because she smelled so oddly intoxicating, she’d call him a creep and run away and never speak to him ever again. He thinks she smells like vanilla, which is so common that he wonders how she can make it work so well, and—

“Mr. Holland?” Y/N’s hand waves in front of his face, and Tom snaps out of his daydream to muster up a charming smile for her. “Were you listening?”

Tom hums, nodding his head to show he was interested — a common courtesy. She shot him a suspicious glance but returned his smile nonetheless. “Well,” she started, clapping her hands together, “I brought you something — to say sorry for spilling my smoothies on you yesterday.” Tom doesn’t really know what to expect, but as she reaches into her purse, he’s definitely not expecting her to pull out a small pastry wrapped in a Greggs wrapper, neatly folded into a small rectangle.

“It’s a sausage roll,” Y/N explains, pushing it into his hands, “from Greggs. I just love their sausage rolls, and I just passed one as I was pulling into work, so I thought I’d buy you one as an apology.” At this point, he’s working overtime to not consciously drool over the sausage roll in his hands, because he’s sure that Y/N would run for the hills if she saw him so unprofessional.

So, he musters up a polite nod, a smile, and a: “Thank you, love.” And she takes that as her cue to scurry off, with a wave to the receptionist who’s not so inconspicuously scowling at her, and she’s out of Tom’s sight.

He stares after her until she’s completely out of his sight, and when she’s gone, he breathes a sigh of relief.

He’s got an issue on his hands.

---

When Y/N tells her new friends about the traumatic incident that had occurred the previous day, she finds that they’ve taken to staring at her in awe, because holy shit, you’ve spilt four smoothies on the most temperamental CEO in the business and yet you’re still here. (how reassuring. mind the sarcasm.)

“Are you joking?” Mike stares at Y/N, mouth open so wide that Y/N’s curious if his jaw is achy yet. “If that were me, I would’ve been fired quicker than I could’ve said sorry. And he called you ‘love’ too? Man, you’ve got him wrapped around your little pinky finger.” (Y/N’s sure they’re just saying this to make her feel better — after all, it’s not every day you spill four smoothies on a multi-millionaire CEO)

“I bet Mr. Holland’s got the hots for you,” Sarah whispers, turning her head to make sure nobody important is in earshot (because anything can set Mr. Holland off, really), “you could probably bust up all of his cars and he’d smile at you, babe.”

“Yeah,” Jacqueline butts in, and Y/N sends her a frown because this entire time they’d been talking, Jacqueline had been quietly filing papers (or at least that’s what Y/N thought), only to realize she’d actually been listening in the entire time, “Mr. Holland likes you— like, like likes you.”

Y/N snorts, sending Jacqueline an unamused stare. “What is this, middle school? M’sure he’s just being nice, s’all.”

Sarah scoffs, raising her eyebrows disbelievingly. “Yeah, right, and I’m a millionaire,” she jokes sarcastically, glancing at Y/N with a lopsided grin on her face. “Trust me. Mr. Holland is anything but nice.”

But Y/N can’t seem to believe that. Surely, he wasn’t that horrible, right?

Days pass and Tom hasn’t seen Y/N in a while, and although he has to admit that popping out a stiffy in the middle of a business proposal at the thought of her isn’t the most enticing, he’s starting to miss her. (of course, the only interaction he’s truly had with her is the disaster that cost him a fortune at the dry cleaners, but he still admires her from afar in the least stalker-y way possible)

Most employees would find it beneficial to have the least contact with Tom as possible. It’s been a bit of a known fact that when called into his office, chances are, they’d be leaving with their belongings in a box. So when Nadine, her supervisor, tells Y/N that he’d like to see her in his office, (and in a very loud tone, at that, so now she’s got the whole office staring after her as she shamefully trudges to Tom’s office) she’s quite terrified. She’d only heard horror stories about what went on in his office, and she’s really come to love the company and crosses her fingers and toes that he isn’t going to terminate her internship. (maybe, Y/N thinks, Tom changed his mind about the smoothie incident. Or even worse, he hated the sausage rolls)

So needless to say, Y/N is just about ready to piss herself pushing open the door to his office, because she remembers what happened on her first day and she has no desire to receive the same treatment. As soon as she sees Tom, sitting in his office chair sorting a few papers, she’s already immediately blurting out a plea.

“If you’re going to fire me, please just make it quick.” Tom’s face twists into one of confusion, and he chuckles. (my god, was she dense.)

“Fire you?” He laughed, placing the papers to the side. “The opposite, actually. When your internship finishes, I was going to offer you a permanent job here at Holland and Co. Unless you don’t want it?” The grin that he offers her is so cheeky that Y/N considers saying no just to wipe the smile off his face for scaring the shit out of her like that, but she isn’t nearly rich or petty enough to refuse such a huge proposal. So instead, she nods eagerly, holding in a squeal that threatens to burst out of her throat, and thanks him profusely. What Tom doesn’t expect is for her to pull him into a tight hug, and he’s floored. (he realizes that he really enjoys her hugs.) When she’s pulled back, her face has contorted into one of embarrassment, and she mumbles an awkward apology before she escorts herself out of the door.

(Tom’s grateful, because maybe then, she wouldn’t have seen the blush that tinted his tan cheeks a rosy red.)

Tom has a problem.

He’s found that he’s got a crush on one of his company’s interns, Y/N. A real, massive, red-faced, crush on her. In fact, he’s found himself looking forward to seeing her when he can — even though he only sees her a handful of times in a month — and yet, he feels an oddly joyful twisting in his gut when she directs that brilliant smile of hers towards him. He’s realized that she’s weaseled her way into his heart and life, and truth be told, he really has no problem with it. Even embraces it, at that.

So yes, he’s got a problem.

Tom is absolutely fucking exhausted.

He’s just about ready to go home, make himself a cuppa, and crash in his obnoxiously soft bed. He’s sure that the company is empty by now because it’s well over the time they get dismissed, so he stumbles out of his office before closing and locking the door. Tom scans the room a final time, ready to leave, but his eyes catch a dim light left on in the back, and he rolls his eyes to go check, annoyed at whichever wanker decided to leave the lights on before they left. So he’s certainly caught off guard when he comes across Y/N tapping away at her computer, sat in her little cubicle.

“Y/N?” Tom asks cautiously, brows furrowed. He has no idea what she’s still doing here, especially since she was supposed to leave at five and the sky outside has already darkened drastically.

“Holy fucking shit—” she screeches, her arms jerking up to cover her mouth, “oh my God, Mr. Holland, you scared the shit outta me.” He finds it quite adorable that she’s sitting there, eyes wide, a hand placed on her heaving chest.

“What’re you still doing here?” Tom questions, because he hasn’t known a single person who would stay past the time they were supposed to return home, and he wasn’t expecting an intern of all people to do so at all.

“I was gonna leave soon, promise, s’just that I almost had this done, so I just wanted to stay to finish it.” Tom nods thoughtfully, switching his briefcase from his right hand to his left, and beckons her to follow him to the parking garage.

“Well come on then, I’ll walk you to your car.” And although Y/N appreciates the thought, (a foolish one, to be honest, because what university student can afford a bloody car?) she shakes her head.

“Well, I was just planning on walking home, because it’s not too far, y’know, and—“

“No way you’re walking home at — 9 at night!” Tom scoffs, checking his watch. He’s gotten way too attached to her to let her put herself in any sort of danger, so he proposes the only idea he could think of in the spur of the moment— “I’ll drive you home, darling.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, Mr. Holland,” she protests, shaking her head wildly, “besides, I’m sure it’s not even on the route, so—“ He interrupts her yet again, (a repeating occurrence, she realizes) shaking his head.

“Nonsense. Come on, now. The sooner we get you back, the better.” And with that, Y/N watches him turn around, followed by her trailing behind him like some sort of lost puppy.

It’s not long until they arrive in the parking garage, but Y/N sees a stunning Rolls Royce and gushes over it internally. She’s ready to pass it by, wave goodbye at it, (call her dramatic, but it isn’t every day you can admire a sleek red Rolls Royce in person) but instead, they stop in front of it.

Y/N, who experiences an odd sense of deja vu, crashes into his sturdy back in response. Tom raises an eyebrow, amused, and shoots his hand out to steady her. “Thank god you didn’t have any smoothies this time, hm?” Y/N watches as he moves to the driver’s seat, opening the door, but pauses when he catches sight of her frozen figure.

“What’s the matter, love?” He grins, his hand resting lazily on the open door. Y/N stays where she stood, too terrified to even approach the vehicle (because let’s be real, if she fucked anything up, she’d have to sell every single one of her internal organs to pay it back).

“Oh—Oh fuck— sorry, but shit, Mr. Holland, there’s no way you can expect me to get in that car,” she swallows, backing up slightly, “that’s gotta cost more than I would if I sold myself on the black market.”

Tom simply chuckles, and Y/N’s heart sort of bursts at the sound since it’d been her first time hearing the joyous sound. He ducks his head to crawl into the luxurious car with a simple, “Alright, doll, just get in,” and she practically scrambles to the passenger seat. (as reluctant as she was, she wasn’t thrilled to walk the long trek home in the slightest.)

She’s barely halfway inside the car before she’s already cramping herself to occupy a smaller area of space despite the spacious interior. Tom notices at the same time, tilting his head as he watches her cautiously press the seatbelt into its buckle as if she’d shatter the buckle with too much pressure.

“You look like I‘ve just forced you into an airtight box, love.” He mutters casually, placing a hand on the back of her seat to reverse out of the garage, “Loosen up for me, alright? Where am I dropping you off?”

She gives him an address, and he programs it into his phone. “Well, look at that, darling, you’re right on my route home.” (he’s lying, but she really doesn’t need to know that they essentially live on opposing sides of London, because the last thing he wants her to do is to leave and walk home) He can see her exhale a sigh of relief and grin, and that alone is enough for Tom not to feel an ounce of regret about his choice.

In hindsight, this was a great idea.

Now, Tom’s not too sure, because she’s got the radio on now, and she’s singing like nobody’s there and it makes Tom’s heart grow three sizes too big. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s starting to fall for her, further than any point of return, and if anyone saw them in that car in that very moment, they’d see him staring at her with the softest gaze anyone had ever seen on the seemingly apathetic CEO in a long time.

It’s when they approach Y/N’s apartment building that something happens. Y/N whispers out a thank you, and she’s almost out of his car, that Tom catches a glimpse of her phone wedged in the cup holders, and he reaches out for her wrist, calling out for her to wait. He doesn’t expect her to unceremoniously tumble back into his car and lap with a squawk from the sudden tug on her wrist.

“S—Sorry!” Tom yelps, a flush crawling up his neck, and it’s then that he realizes how close their faces were. If he were to lean down in the slightest, their lips would meet and— “Your phone! You forgot your phone!”

Y/N never really had the ability to think rationally in unforeseen situations. Which is maybe why she can’t help but lean up and press a quick kiss to his lips, stunning into silence, but it’s not even her fault, truthfully! (it is, but she tries to give herself the benefit of the doubt) She’d never seen him so uncomposed and flustered, and it was honestly the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Her eyes blink at her sudden bold attitude, and then she’s scrambling out the car, maneuvering herself in a way that she wouldn’t headbutt Tom, and she’s gone, running into the building with a loud stuttered “sorry!” Tom loses sight of her, still staring after her, dazed, one singular thought running through his head.

Holy fuck.

Tom calls Harrison as soon as he gets home. Harrison arrives in ten minutes flat. (“God, you’re such a drama queen. I’m on my way.”)

“C’mon, mate, don’t just stand there and call me a sap, what do I do?” Tom groans, throwing a toy to Tessa who lay on the couch beside his body, staring at him with a peculiarly knowing look, and Tom groans again because even his damn dog knew about his dilemma.

“She probably likes you, you div,” Harrison grins, raising his voice to imitate Y/N. “Mr. Holland is just… so hot! I dream about kissing him every night!”

“Oi, come off it, you dickhead, she doesn’t even sound like that,” Tom mutters, shoving Harrison to the side. “Probably didn’t even mean shit to her, just like, a friendly kiss or summat.” Tom knows it was more than that. If the amorous gazes and gestures were anything to go by, it would be easy to mistake them as head over heels for one other (unfortunately for them, it’s not exactly a mistake to assume they’re goners for each other, because it’s absolutely true).

Harrison shoots him a look. “Yeah, mate, I kiss all my friends too. S’just a normal friend thing, innit? Now c’mon, gimme a nice smooch.” Harrison teases, puckering his lips to make obnoxious smacking noises towards Tom. He’s met with a pillow to the face, and he laughs, throwing his head back. “You’re so whipped, mate.”

Maybe just a little, Tom thinks.

The next morning, Tom’s prepared to man up and do something about his hopeless crush on Y/N. He’s got his entire speech planned out, in fact.

He’ll start it off by handing her a muffin. Chocolate chip, to be specific. And then, he’ll woo her with a romantic speech, as follows: “Y/N, I think I’ve liked you ever since you spilled those drinks on me. I’ve been wanting to ask you to dinner for a while now, and the kiss we shared last night was amazing. So, will you go out with me?” (it sounds better in his head, it really does)

But none of that happens, because when he catches her eye, he beelines for her and they both let out a rush of words at once.

“I brought you something—“

“Last night was a mistake—“

Tom stops, mouth drying at her words. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Holland, that was so unprofessional of me to kiss you. We can just forget it ever happened if that’s alright.” And Tom’s mouth snaps shut, his hopeful words dying on his tongue before they could escape. Y/N stood in front of him, wringing her hands, a smoothie by her side. “I brought you a smoothie to apologize — you seemed like a Berry Blast kind of guy. Hope that’s alright.” She hands him the smoothie, unaware of Tom’s internal battle because damn it all to hell, he so desperately wanted that kiss to mean something to her and no, he never wanted to forget about it. He sends her a pained, restrained smile, accepting the smoothie she holds as a peace offering and tries to retreat to his office.

“Wait, Mr. Holland!” Y/N cries out, running to tap his shoulder, “What were you saying? I cut you off earlier.”

Tom carefully hides the chocolate chip muffin behind his back, shaking his head. “It was nothing, you took the words right out of my mouth.” Tom laughs, and yet the sound is so forced it almost makes him wince. Y/N’s smile drops for the slightest moment before it’s up on her face again.

“Oh, alright then!” She smiles, waving her hand towards him, “Have a nice day then!”

Tom decides he most certainly will not.

“You guys are such bloody wankers!” Y/N cries as soon as she reaches her cubicle, “Y’said he liked me! And just now, he told me that he wanted to forget about the kiss too. God, I’m so humiliated! I might as well just go on and die from humiliation now—“

“Okay, babe, chill,” Sarah tries, but to no avail.

“—I can see the headlines already! ‘Intern kisses boss, gets rejected and dies.’ Fuckin’ hell—“ Y/N’s mini-rant is cut off by Sarah’s hand coming to clamp over her mouth, muffling any sound, but quickly yanks her hand back at the feeling of Y/N’s tongue licking a stripe across her palm.

“I’m sure everything’ll be fine, no harm done. He’ll forget about it in two days flat, promise.” Sarah reassures her, patting her back awkwardly.

“For fuck’s sake, mate,” Tom grumbles, head in his hands, “you said she was into me!” Tom’s in shambles because as far as he knows, he’s just humiliated himself in front of the girl he’s taken a liking to.

Harrison laughs at his distressed state teasingly, tossing a pen in the air and catching it to cease his boredom. “M’sure she was just doing what she thought you’d want — hope you realize you aren’t the most approachable guy.”

“Fuck off, you div,” Tom mutters, tossing a highlighter at Harrison’s head, “I resent that, mate.”

The next time Tom interacts with her, it’s not for at least a month. (he needed the time to shake off his humiliation.)

It’s so similar to the previous time that it makes Tom’s heart clench at the memory of her soft lips on his. This time though, it’s because the weather outside was pouring buckets that flooded the streets and soaked everything in contact. So it’s not even a question of ‘maybe’ before Tom’s already insisting on driving her home.

“Love, there’s no way in hell that I’m letting you walk through that rain,” Tom tells her, already pulling on his jacket. “Now c’mon, what kind of boss would I be if I didn’t drive you home?”

Y/N reluctantly agrees, shutting down her computer and picking her purse up from under her desk. “Alright. But you’ve got to promise me that I’m not a bother, Mr. Holland.”

“Never,” Tom promises, placing a hand on her arm to gently guide her to the exit. “D’you want me to pull the car up? I know it’s raining pretty hard out there, don’t want you to get wet or summat.” He picks up on his unintentional innuendo too late, his cheeks and ears flushing a thorough red blush. “Not—not like that, I mean like—”

“No, no, it’s alright, I can survive a little rain.” Tom’s never been more grateful for Y/N ignoring his slip-up, because he’s sure that if she’d acknowledged it, Tom would’ve stayed red for the next century or so. (get it together, he tells himself, she’s just a girl, and you’re not a virgin, you moron,)

The drive to her place is quiet apart from her loud singing, but the real dilemma comes when they pull up to the door.

“For fuck’s sake, I—ugh.” Y/N groans, hand leaving her purse dejectedly. “I’ve locked myself out. Don’t even have a spare key.” Tom’s headgears are already turning before she can finish her sentence. “S’alright, I’ll just call my landlord and sleep with a neighbour or something.”

“Why don’t you come sleep at my house?” Tom offers, and Y/N is quick to refuse, insisting that she’s already a bother, and she wouldn’t force him to deal with her presence any longer. “I already promised you weren’t a bother, darling.”

When Y/N buckles up her seatbelt again, she’s expecting Tom to just continue down the road, but instead he makes a swift u-turn and drives back down the same road the came from.

“Mr. Holland! You told me my apartment was on route to yours — why’ve we turned ‘round?” She gapes, head spinning to look back through the window towards her flat. Tom gives her a cheeky shrug, flicking his windshield wipers to a higher speed as the rain came down harder and obstructed his view of the road.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” he mutters, sending her a smile. “Plus, that’s Tom to you outside of work — Mr. Holland is my dad, love.”

Tom doesn’t know how he’s gotten into this position.

He’s got Y/N in his arms, sound asleep, wearing his shirt, sleeping on his bare chest, and his mind is still hazy from the kisses they shared that night. He remembers how they walked into his penthouse, and Y/N had gushed over everything inside, (“holy shit, Mr—Tom, you have a fucking fluffy bath mat? I’ve always wanted one!”) and awed over his dog Tessa, (“ohmigod, you have a bloody dog too? You’re like… the perfect man!” and Tom has to admit that he took this in a different way, because he would love to be Y/N’s perfect man.) Tom had set up his Netflix for her to browse as he prepared them both a warm cuppa, and he’d returned to see Y/N and Tessa cuddled up in a blanket he’d brought for her. The sight tightened his chest, and really, everything from there is a blur.

The main part that he remembers is that they kissed. (and oh, did they kiss)

“You’ve driven me bloody insane, darling,” Tom admitted, pulling her in for a kiss that frazzled her nerves and curled her toes. Y/N’d pulled away, gasping for air, and Tom trailed light kisses down the length of her neck, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist.

“What’re we doing, Tom?” She’d asked between kisses that he’d pressed to her face.

“What I’ve been wanting for a long while, love.”

And here he was, her head heavy on his chest, nose tucked into the crook of his neck, and Tom’s never felt more at peace. Y/N blinks awake, yawning softly and blinking blearily before she readjusts herself, pulling her body to lay on top of his.

“You’re my… my pillow now, m’kay?” She murmurs, reaching up to press a kiss to his jaw.

Tom smiles, tightening his hold on the sleepy girl, humming. He’s pushing her hair back to kiss her forehead, and Tom decides that he’s never been happier.

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