#I will eat it up - it would be the right kind of angst for the show and Ryan would deliver
Text
in the fire | sung hanbin
⇢ pairing: hanbin x reader
⇢ warnings: dystopia au, zombie apolocalypse au, angst, some fluff, slow burn, major character death, vomiting, blood, gore, violence, explicit language, mentions of/implied assisted suicide (this is the best way to describe it)
⇢ synopsis: a deadly virus has broken out and left the world in shambles as everything you once knew gets flipped upside down and you're fighting for your life alongside your best friends. the three of you decide to follow a pair of strangers to a city that supposedly has an entire community of people, but you didn't realize the amount of horrors you would have to endure along the way.
⇢ word count: 19.08k
⇢ note: i am SO proud of how this turned out, it's one of my favorite fics i have written to date. the plot moves kind of fast but i feel like that happens with most zombie apocalypse media, so i hope you guys don't mind. if you want to listen to the playlist i listened to during the making of this while you read, here it is. i hope you enjoy :]
i.
“y/n, wake up!” the deep slumber you were in felt as if it didn’t last very long due to the familiar voice of one of your best friends, taerae, shaking you awake.
you groaned, stirring around beneath your covers, swatting his hands away from you, “what, taerae? i was sleeping so good.”
“that’s not really important right now,” his voice was hushed, a hint of anxiety laced within his words. it was extremely unlike him, and within mere seconds you were opening your eyes and staring at him, sitting up from your cocoon, brows furrowed in concern, “what's wrong?” you asked, observing him as he began rummaging through your bags hanging on the back of your bedroom door.
he tossed your largest backpack at you, “we need to go, within the next few minutes, actually. pack only the essentials.”
“why?” you inquired, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and touching your feet to the chilly hardwood floors. you were greeted with silence, trying to get your tired brain to catch up with taerae’s actions of grabbing some of your personal hygiene products and tossing them on the bed next to you.
you become frustrated with the boy, snapping, “taerae, what is going on? you can't just barge in here and tell me to pack some of my shit and then not tell me why.”
he stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders tense and a sigh slipping past his lips. he turned to face you, the fear he was feeling clear on his expression now. you searched his face for anything that might be an indicator of what it was, but the words he uttered were something you never expected, “there was just a nationwide announcement broadcasted on the tv that said the most recent round of flu shots contained a nasty string of some virus in it and it's mutating in people’s genes,” he explained, “the people who got it are going crazy and freaking out on everyone around them. biting them, clawing at their skin, swallowing whatever bits of flesh they can get their hands on. it's complete madness. they want everyone to travel to some hospital a few hours north of here.”
you couldn't help the way your jaw fell slack at his gruesome words. people eating other people? there was no way this was happening. you were surely dreaming, or taerae was pulling your leg and taking it a little too far; it wouldn't be the first time he's done something like this during your time being friends with him. you shook your head, balling up one of your shirts and chucking it at him, “stop fucking with me, dude. i can't believe you woke me up for this.”
“i’m being dead serious, y/n,” the bewilderment in his eyes and the nervous bobbing of his adam’s apple was hard to miss, “ask hanbin if you're really that skeptical. you know he would never seriously joke about something like this.” he took your backpack from your hand and began shoving things inside of it, motioning for you to seek out hanbin and find out for yourself.
you pushed past him and out into the hallway, feet padding gently against the floor into the living room where the television was quietly humming in the background. you focused your attention on that, snagging the remote from the coffee table and turning the volume up. on the screen was your local news channel, an anchor braving what seemed to be utter chaos behind them.
/reporting to you live from the streets of atlanta. since the news of the virus outbreak, madness has struck the city. people are in a frenzy, desperate to get out and find some sort of safety. it is highly advised you form a group with whoever you are near now and leave as soon as you can. i will provide you with more updates as they com-/
before the reporter could finish her sentence, someone came barreling up behind them, snapping their neck cleanly. you watched in horror as the reporter’s body crumpled to the ground and the culprit followed suit, crawling on his hands and knees to get to the exposed flesh of their neck. the culprit sniffed deeply before he began ripping their throat out, blood pooling near their head and their face quickly becoming unrecognizable. the look in the culprit’s eyes was nothing short of evil and you felt as if you were going to vomit just watching.
“y/n, there you are!” the sound of hanbin's panicked voice caused a wave of fear to course through your veins. you yelped in surprise, quickly whipping around to face him, taking in his expression, a backpack of his own secured on his back not going unnoticed by you.
this was real. and it was serious.
you felt tears well up in your eyes at the sight of him, still digesting what you had just witnessed on the television. he glanced over at the screen, catching a look for himself, and was quick to shut it off so you didn't have to see anymore. he approached you gently, but you were quick to cling to him, desperate to be grounded, to have a sense of security after being woken up to such intense news. you felt his arms envelope you in an embrace, his hands cupping the back of your head as you whispered, “i’m terrified, hanbin.”
“i know,” he consoled, trying his best to keep his voice steady, “i am too, but we can't let that control us right now. we have to be logical and level headed. let’s go find taerae and get out of here.”
you nodded, pulling away from him, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest at the way he wiped your tears away, the softest of smiles on his face. he tilted his head in the direction of your bedroom, and you followed behind him, shaking your head at yourself. now was /not/ the time for you to be dwelling on the crush you developed on him. at this point, you weren't sure if there would ever be a time, but you were hardly worried about it.
you entered back into your bedroom, having seen taerae was almost finished with packing your backpack full of things. you thanked him quietly and apologized for freaking out on him a few minutes prior, earning a small smile from him in return, “i understand why you didn't believe me at first, so it's really okay.”
“so what’s the plan?” you asked, now taking the bag from taerae’s grasp and slinging it over your shoulders.
“i suppose we attempt to get wherever they're saying to go,” hanbin answered. you looked outside of your window, catching a glimpse of the chaos a few streets over, a cynical laugh erupting from your lungs, “looks like that’ll be easier said than done.”
the three of you made a collective decision to at least try, because maybe you'd be guaranteed safety that way. you stayed clustered together tightly upon exiting the house through the front door, every sense on high alert as you kept your eyes peeled out for anyone you suspected might be infected by the virus. you felt as if your heart was in your throat, adrenaline coursing through your veins in a way it never had before.
you slunk to taerae's suv, opening the doors to get in as quietly as you could muster, though you knew it would be harder to keep its old doors from squeaking too loudly. you hopped in quickly, desperate to get out of there and to a place where you wouldn't have to fear so much, and hopefully live in peace until this entire thing blew over.
out of habit, taerae shut the door loudly, and the panic that sank to the pits of your stomachs was enough for taerae to kick it into high gear and speed out of your neighborhood as fast as he could. loud, gutteral shrieks from infected chasing after the car could be heard – the sound was unmistakable. you tried your hardest to keep your head down, to not look, because you genuinely felt like you'd throw up at any given moment.
but your efforts were cut short from the sounds of the tires screeching and taerae yelling, your gaze flicking up to see a body toppling over the hood of the car, blood splattering on the windshield and oozing from their mouth from where they'd likely just gotten done devouring someone. silence hung thickly in the air, the three of you processing everything that just happened.
“i just ki-”
taerae’s words were drowned out by the sound of you wretching in the back seat.
ii.
you never made it to the hospital. there was far too much chaos, and by the time you’d made it to a gas station, everyone had used up every last drop trying to top off before they drove up there. the three of you ended up having to completely abandon taerae’s suv, and despite the sheer amount of infected surrounding you, somehow, you survived.
your new routine had been set in place for quite some time now. find a shelter, scavenge for supplies, and repeat for a couple weeks. then afterward, you would relocate. it was really the most you could do, considering every place you deemed worthy to make a hideout ended up being overtaken by more infected than you could usually handle. you were getting pretty sick of constantly having to move around, having no stability.
you missed life before the outbreak.
it took weeks for you to adjust to seeing so much blood, or having to kill infected who hadn't completely rotted away, some eerily intact despite the virus taking hold. it took an even longer time to adjust to /killing/. it was never something you imagined you would ever have to do in your life, but by now, about a year and a half later since the outbreak, you were immune to it and it didn't bother you anymore. regardless, you still longed for the days where all you did was complain about work and bills.
having taerae and hanbin around made things a lot easier; especially hanbin. he naturally assumed the role of leader within your small group, and even more so if you had others tagging along with you. but just barely a week ago the last person of a group of about 5 you came across got bit and succumbed to the infection, leading to a huge scare of taerae potentially getting infected himself. thankfully, he wasn't, but the prospect of losing either of them to the virus made you feel nauseous.
your tasks for each day were split up so none of you experienced extreme amounts of burnout. some days were dedicated solely to rest, though all three of you felt incredibly guilty when you did that. at any given moment, you could be attacked. or not have enough to eat. or even die. one thing you all had learned the hard way was that you were never guaranteed to live through an entire day.
which led you to your current situation of trying to sneak around a nearby general store in hopes of finding some sort of supplies with taerae while hanbin protected the house you were currently inhabiting. since losing the last of your new group, you often found yourself wishing you could have at least a few more people so nobody was left alone. knowing that hanbin was currently by himself made you uneasy, especially since he couldn’t defend himself against more than two or three infected, or even other people, at once. you shook the thoughts plaguing your mind away; there was no time to think about things like that.
besides, you knew hanbin would be fine. he always was.
you gripped your knife tightly in your hand, allowing your eyes to constantly scan the aisles while you were searching through boxes in hopes of finding anything you could use. you had come to this place a couple of times since settling down a couple weeks ago, but it was nearly empty now. your food supply was running out at an alarming rate and there was only so much you could ration between the three of you before you would inevitably starve.
the moment you came across anything that was edible, you could have cried. it was the millionth can of beans you had come across since you’d been traveling and you were tired of them being the main component of your diet. it was no wonder it was some of the only food left no matter where you went. people still hated beans, even in the midst of an apocalypse.
you carefully stepped over large chunks of broken glass to avoid making too much noise so you could stand next to taerae, who was dejectedly kicking around some garbage that was of no use to any of you. smiling sadly, you asked, “have you found anything?”
“not really, no,” he answered, “i think another group of people came through here and took a bunch of supplies we had seen when we were fighting that mob last week. bastards.”
you knew how frustrated taerae was getting with unsuccessful supply runs. admittedly, you were feeling the same way. it was hard not to have a temper. but, you were actively trying to make sure you didn’t let it crush your spirits too much. if you did, you knew that it would not only bring your motivation to keep searching down, but it would take a toll on everyone else around you as well. that was the last thing you needed, especially since things were looking more and more grim each day.
“have you found anything?” he asked.
you sighed, “other than a couple cans of beans and a box of cold medicine, i haven’t come across anything worthwhile.”
taerae softly whined, and for a minute, you thought he might throw a tantrum, “why does everyone leave only beans? that’s been our diet for what feels like an eternity.”
“i know, but be glad we find anything at all. it’s better than nothing,” taerae huffed in annoyance, but ultimately agreed with your sentiment.
you followed taerae out of the store, careful not to let the door slam shut behind you. making one loud, uneccessary noise would more than likely lead to your deaths, and that wasn’t particularly something you were looking for by any means. you both refused to leave hanbin on his own. you were doubtful he could survive alone, especially if he were to encounter a lot of infected at one time.
there was nobody who was capable of that.
you set off down the road toward your current hideout. night time was creeping up on the two of you, and while you were sure the you could take on a small group of infected together, you knew you couldn’t handle any more than that. you peered over to your partner, taking note of the sour expression adorning his features, and nudged him playfully, “a little success is better than nothing at all, you know.”
“i do,” he attempted to fight the smile creeping at the corners of his mouth, “maybe you’re just bad luck. every time i go on a run with hanbin, we always find so much.”
“hey!” you exclaimed with a light laugh.
taerae shrugged, a small chuckle emitting from his lungs, “you didn’t deny it.”
you fell into a comfortable silence, the only audible sound being your boots thudding against the pavement. you felt a shiver course down your spine; this would be your second time going through this apocalypse in the winter months. it was hard to ignore the fact that it was starting to get icy out and the wind was cutting right through your thin jacket and down to your bones. you leaned a little closer into taerae, who was practically grinning from ear to ear as you did so.
“i take it you’re cold?” though he was teasing you, his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders. you nuzzled closer into the boy’s side, soaking up any bit of warmth he radiated from underneath his hoodie.
“no, i’m sweating buckets,” you sarcastically remarked, completely unable to mask your playful smile, “i’m actually freezing. and i think it’s starting to rain.”
taerae tilted his head up toward the sky, his dark eyes scanning the darkening gray clouds overhead. he audibly sighed, and you took note of the cold droplets of water starting to fall on top of your head and seep into your clothes. he turned to you, “we’re only a couple blocks away from the house, let’s just pick up the pace. we don’t want our asses to get mauled by infected when we’re almost back.”
you nearly stopped dead in your tracks at the sound. it was almost as if taerae was psychic sometimes, and you were hoping like hell you were just hearing things. a deep, throaty growl sounded off behind you once more, and when you turned your head to look, your eyes widened at the sight of a mob forming behind you. you supposed that this was to be expected, especially considering it had grown darker a lot sooner than it normally did, but it still put fear in your heart.
taerae gently urged you forward, “we need to go, now!”
even if the size of the mob was manageable, it certainly did not mean the two of you should take it on. the moment you were to do that, more were likely to start showing up and you would be doomed. taerae grabbed your hand as the two of you began to sprint, his grip on you preventing you from falling any further behind from your slight lack of speed. the rain had become heavier the closer you got to your hideout, skewing any good amount of vision you were hoping to have between your hair plastering to your skin and the weather limiting how far ahead you could see in front of you.
you cursed the month of december; it had always been one of your least favorite months, even before the outbreak, but now it was definitely taking the top spot for your most hated. ice had already begun to form on the road and sidewalks of the neighborhood and your boots were no longer gripping to anything. an intense jolt of pain shot through your knee the moment you lost your balance and smashed it into the pavement. you inhaled a sharp breath, struggling to regain your footing as taerae stopped to help pull you up.
“they’re getting closer! come on, y/n, we’re only a few houses away!”
you pushed your legs to keep going, no matter how much your knee was throbbing or your muscles felt like they were on fire. you desperately searched your surroundings in hopes of finding some sort of familiarity, and the moment you saw hanbin standing in the living room window of your hideout, you felt a wave relief wash over you.
taerae pulled you up the front steps of the porch, making sure you got inside before he did, and kicking an infected back into the crowd and following you so it couldn’t force its way inside. hanbin slammed the door and locked the deadbolt the moment he was able to. your legs felt like jello and there was no mistaking the heavy breathing of taerae as he was hunched over, tossing his bag onto the ground.
“did it get you?” hanbin sounded frantic as he shoved taerae’s right pant leg up, eyes scanning every inch of his skin for a mark of any kind left by the infected he had kicked back.
taerae scowled, shoving the older boy away from him with a smirk, “of course not. i would have felt it,” his gaze softened at hanbin’s solemn gaze, “i’m okay, don’t worry.”
hanbin nodded, his eyes flickering over to your hobbling frame as you attempted to make your way to the old couch you had been sleeping on since being in the house. you winced the moment you put any pressure on that knee, though, and within mere seconds hanbin had his arm snaked around your waist to help you get to your destination easier.
you sat down, exhaling a shaky breath as you rolled up your own pant leg. your entire knee was already beginning to form a deep purple bruise and blood seeped from the small scrape that you figured you would have. you gingerly poked around the wound, mentally cursing yourself for losing your footing in the first place.
“y/n took a pretty hard fall out there, i’m surprised they didn’t shatter their kneecap,” taerae spoke up.
a look of concern contorted hanbin’s face, “are you going to be able to function okay?”
“i don’t know,” you truthfully replied, “i think i can as long as i nurse it or have some sort of support. i also think it would be best if we leave and try to find another shelter somewhere, we’ve definitely overstayed our welcome here.”
taerae scoffed, “are you out of your mind? there’s absolutely no way you can travel with your knee like that, let alone fight off any infected.”
“as much as i hate to admit it, i think y/n is right,” hanbin said, “besides, we’ve wiped out everything nearby that could possibly have usable supplies. there’s no way we can survive on what little we have until y/n is fully healed up.”
“not to mention, it seems like more and more infected are showing up around you here,” you added.
your gaze locked with taerae, who looked as if he could explode at any given moment. you knew he had the best of intentions, but it was crucial you left at dawn. sighing, you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance and muttering, “i’ll be okay, i promise. i can hold my own and as long as we wrap my knee up well, i’ll be able to walk normally. you know i wouldn’t say any of this if i didn’t think i could do it.”
taerae finally nodded in agreement, though his expression remained menacing as his eyes flickered between both you and hanbin.
“we better get some rest, we leave the moment the sun rises.”
iii.
it had been a couple of days since the three of you had set out from your hideout. to say you were exhausted was an understatement; you hadn’t found a shelter worthwhile to stay in, so you had to make camp in the most closed off spaces you could, usually in the woods. you hardly slept; it was far too cold to stay asleep for very long at all and if you did manage to get a couple hours in, you felt worse when you woke up.
you had to eat your supply of beans straight from the can because you had no way to cook them. scarfing them down wasn’t exactly ideal, and you dealt with taerae whining about it the most out of all of you. but, food was food, and you were lucky enough to have what you did.
“if this map is correct,” hanbin interrupted the silence as the three of you continued walking down the same road you had set foot on, “this road should take us to the next town a couple miles out from where we are now.”
you felt a pang of excitement hit you, “maybe we’ll find better food there.”
“and somewhere a little more warm to sleep,” taerae added, the eagerness in his voice hard to ignore.
hanbin nodded, “we could probably make it there today if we keep up the pace we are,” he turned to look at you, “can you do that with your knee?”
truthfully, your knee felt like it was going to give out on you at any given moment. hanbin did the best he could with the little supplies you had to stabilize it enough so it didn’t hurt when you walked. it worked for the first day and half, but ever since your last stop to try and sleep, it’s been in an excruciating amount of pain.
you still assured the two with a smile anyway, “i’ll be fine, i promise.”
as the three of you continued your journey, you couldn’t help but feel like every inch of your body was going numb. being out in the cold for the amount of time you had been was definitely not good for any of you, especially since the jackets you had were suitable only for autumn-like weather. snow had begun piling up on the first day of traveling, making things even more slick beneath your boots and the chill in the air to cut through every measly layer of clothing you adorned.
you just hoped that hanbin was right about the town. for everyone’s sake.
— — —
“there’s a stream not too far from here, i’ll go and get some water while you change y/n’s bandages.”
hanbin was currently kneeling on the ground in front of you, teeth gritted together as he tried to keep from shivering too much while he focused on the task at hand, “just hurry back.”
with that, taerae set off into the woods where the stream could be seen from where your spot on a tree stump, his boots crunching the snow beneath them. one of the only perks about winter was being able to see through the usually dense areas a lot easier.
you sighed, frustrated with yourself, “i’m sorry for setting us back.”
hanbin shook his head, “you don’t have to apologize, i know you wouldn’t ask to stop for the day if you were feeling okay.”
“maybe you should just leave me for the infected, i’m more of a burden right now than anything,” you half-joked, one corner of your mouth raising in a smile.
however, the boy in front of you didn’t find it to be very funny. his frown deepened and he locked his dark eyes with yours and grabbed your hand, his fingers chilled to the bone, and a seriousness radiating from his body, “i will never, ever leave you behind, even if it costs me my life. okay?”
“the same will always go for you,” you squeezed his hand reassuringly. you would be an idiot if you didn’t admit the small smile he gave in return made your belly do backflips or the feeling of his hand in yours made you warm up just a little bit.
hanbin taped the remaining bandage together the best he could before rolling your pant leg down, careful not to roll his hard work down with the fabric of your jeans. you mumbled a thank you, standing up to make sure it was still secure and once you gave him a thumbs up, hanbin rose to his feet as well.
by now, taerae made his way back to the two of you, extending the canteen of cool water out to you. taking it graciously, you took a few good sips before passing the object to hanbin.
“what’s the plan now?” taerae inquired, scanning the brush around you in an attempt to find somewhere to set up camp for the night.
hanbin shrugged, “maybe we should wait until morning to finish the hike to the convenience store. it’s almost dark now and i would hate to travel and have that be what kills us,” both you and taerae nodded in agreement.
you parted your lips to speak, “let’s find somewhere to rest then, we have a long night ahead of us.”
— — —
you desperately clung to hanbin and taerae, craving warmth more than ever. you were to the point now that moving hurt from how cold your entire body was. the small fire you had going earlier in the evening had to be put out before you slept so it didn't attract more infected that you wanted, so it was exponentially more difficult than any of your previous nights on the road or inside an abandoned home.
morning began to break through the clouds in the sky, your surroundings illuminated by the dim light it provided to you. the snow glimmered all around you, and bad you not been freezing your ass off, you would have found it beautiful. hanbin began to stir next to you, uttering a quiet, “did you get any sleep?”
“barely,” you mumbled back, taking note of the way taerae was snoring on your other side, sleeping soundly as if he wasn't on the frigid, hard ground in the middle of winter. you envied him, because no matter where you were, he was somehow able to sleep at least a few hours.
hanbin lowly chuckled, “me either, but i’m glad to see it's going well for him.”
you peered up at hanbin through your lashes, taking in the gash just to the side of his right eye that was still healing from an encounter with a hostile group of survivors a few weeks ago. you reached up to touch it, gently tilting his head sideways to get a better look at it. you informed him, “it’s healing really well, i don't think the scar will be all that noticeable.”
“good, i’m glad,” he replied, and you missed the way his eyes followed you as you flipped around on your other side to begin rustling taerae awake. truthfully, you turned away because you were scared hanbin would catch on to the feelings you still somehow possessed for him, but waking taerae was also just as important.
taerae grunted as he woke up, surprise evident in his face; almost as if he were worried something bad was happening, but when he realized it was just you, he relaxed almost immediately. “what time is it?” he asked, and you glanced down at the watch you adorned on your wrist, replying, “just barely after six.”
your morning was pretty relaxed after that. you took your time waking up and even managed to get another fire going so you could defrost yourselves before trekking back out into the snow toward your destination. your knee was feeling a lot better since taking a break and you were able to comfortably walk on it without needing some kind of support from either hanbin or taerae.
your relaxation and bliss of the fire were quickly replaced with dread and hatred toward the cold as you trudged toward the town you were looking for. you still felt better, and your knee was much easier to walk on than previously, so you knew you'd at least be able to make it there while there was still daylight.
a soft gasp erupted from the boy on your right “what’s that up there?” the glee laced in taerae’s voice was hard to ignore upon him catching sight of gas pumps and the building next to them.
you squinted to catch a better glimpse and couldn’t help the grin tugging at either corner of your mouth, “i think we’re here!”
hanbin chuckled, “you two sound like you’re arriving somewhere for a field trip.”
you nudged him slightly, the three of you unknowingly picking up your paces in pure excitement. you pulled out your weapons upon getting closer to the gas station, eyes and ears fully alert for any potential threats surrounding the area – infected or not.
taerae extended his arm, quietly pulling the door open and holding his gun up in front of him as he walked inside. you were the next one inside with hanbin following up the rear, and once you were able to see that there was no imminent danger inside any of the rooms, you put your weapons away.
the sight you were greeted with was enough to almost bring the three of you to tears. there was at least four shelves of food and supplies that hadn’t been touched yet, which was extremely rare to come by at the point you were in with the apocalypse.
“this has been well worth the wait,” taerae piped up, tossing a box of crackers, a package of hot dogs, and a few bottles of water into his backpack, “we finally don’t have to eat stupid fucking beans anymore.”
“and we don’t have to hear you complain about it,” the eldest boy teased, mimicking the younger’s actions as he got a feel for everything there was to offer.
you headed toward the back room, flicking the light on only to be greeted with a few makeshift mattresses the people here previously had left. you searched the drawers of the desk off to your right, greeted with a pad of paper and a pen as well as a few other items you found to be useful to the group.
you tossed everything into your backpack and put it to the side, opting to tidy up the beds so everything was neatly arranged and each of the three of you had a spot to sleep. The padding on the floor was much softer than you expected it to be and you almost screeched in excitement when you stumbled upon a closet filled with thick coats.
as you finished pulling them out of the closet, the other two were entering the room with grins adorning their faces. taerae saw you struggling to hold all the coats at once and came forward to help you, laughing at your misfortune when you dropped pretty much all of them on the floor.
without a word, you began going through them and found ones in your sizes or at least close to them, sighing in content at the feeling of warmth they gave you once you slipped them on. you closed the door to the office, settling down onto the mattresses with the other two.
“do we want to stay here for a little bit before we head out again? or do we want to try and find a house?” hanbin asked, finally breaking the silence between the three of you and the analytical part of his brain speaking for him.
you leaned back against the wall, your eyes trained on the ceiling, “i would be okay with either one. right now we’re at least guaranteed shelter, even if it’s only for a couple of days.”
“maybe we can stay for three or four days and see if we can find a house nearby,” taerae suggested. you all nodded, deciding that was the best plan you could come up with.
you were just glad to have something go your way for once.
iv.
you stirred around on your spot on the floor, groggily coming out of one of the best sleeps you’ve had in months. you felt deliciously warm, sandwiched in between both taerae and hanbin, who were also just beginning to wake up.
you smiled to yourself, propping your body up onto your elbow as your eyes scanned the area around you. it almost felt too good to be true, striking the jackpot with so much in one day. it was very rare the group of you ever had more than enough food to survive for a week, especially if there was more people with you, and here you were with everything you could have ever hoped for. you felt extremely grateful.
“why the hell are you up so early?” taerae groaned, flipping his arm over to look at the time on his watch before he covered his head with a pillow.
you chuckled at him, voice a hushed whisper so you didn't wake hanbin, who was still sleeping peacefully, “i don't know, i just couldn't sleep anymore.”
taerae huffed loudly before eventually sitting up, his hair tangled and messy and eyes still shut as he gained his bearings back. finally, he looked at you, playfully annoyed, and said, “i suppose you and i can rummage around for some more stuff while hanbin rests for a little longer. he never gets enough and he seems to actually be into a deep sleep.”
you peered over at the boy fondly, taking note of his soft snores and slightly agape mouth. taerae was right, and you did everything you could to be quiet before you left. you wrote a quick note on the pad of paper you found the previous day and left it where you slept so hanbin could easily find it if he woke up and you were still gone.
you followed taerae out of the office, careful to not close the door too loudly just in case any infected had wandered in overnight. you seemed to be in the clear, and almost welcomed the crisp morning air as it hit your face and filled your lungs. there were a few other buildings nearby, abandoned cars as well, so you decided to scope them out and see what they had to offer.
as you rummaged through a bag on the ground near one of the vehicles, taerae’s straightforward question caught you off guard, “are you ever going to tell hanbin that you like him?”
you were baffled, to say the least. you glanced up at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before you finally managed to spit out, “that is not what i was expecting to talk about while we did this.”
“that's not an answer to my question,” taerae teased.
“no shit, sherlock,” you sarcastically remarked, deciding to keep a box of matches you'd found in that bag. you pondered his question before you answered him as you rose to your feet, avoiding eye contact and feeling yourself begin to blush, “i don't know, i mean, we’re in the middle of an apocalypse, i don't think it's the right time.”
“is there ever going to be a right time?”
his question made your mind start reeling. of course you'd /thought/ about telling hanbin, but you didn't want to ruin your friendship and most certainly didn't want to make things awkward considering you had to be around him until you either died and split off in your own ways. you thought he was way out of your league, anyway. there was no way he would ever like you back. you finally looked at taerae, a smug grin plastered on his face, and you stuck your tongue out, “quit being an ass.”
“y/n has a crush~” he sing-songed, skipping in annoying little circles around you and poking your sides annoyingly. you crossed your arms over your chest, giving taerae a blank stare until he stopped in front of you, his smile even wider now “you're blushing.”
you smacked his arm, earning a yelp from him, and hastily said, “no i’m not, it's just freezing out here.”
the two of you kept rummaging around, and after several minutes, taerae had done eerily quiet. you knew he was probably scheming something, because even amidst hell on earth, he always found a way to pull fast ones on you and hanbin. you shook your head, mentally preparing yourself for whatever it was he decided to do.
but nothing came, and you were beginning to get worried. you had your upper body inside of another car, legs still dangling outside, after seeing one of the windows rolls down, and you were trying your best to grab onto a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the passenger seat. you desperately lunged for it, but to no avail. you decided to see if you could find taerae and make sure he was still alive and breathing.
you attempted to shimmy your way backward out of the car, and felt panic set deep in your stomach at the feeling of something grabbing at your ankles. you tried like crazy not scream, but frantically began kicking in an attempt to get the infected off of you. a growl was able to be heard as it pulled you the rest of the way out the car, but you were able to get leverage and fully kick it off of you. turning around, you reached for your knife on your holster, fully prepared to kill it, but stopped with your hand gripping the handle upon seeing taerae standing behind you, mocking an infected far too well.
“damn it, taerae!” you exclaimed, whacking him on the chest with your hand, “i could have killed you!”
he pointed menacingly, “but you didn't.”
“having fun out there?” the sound of hanbin’s voice broke the two of you out of your bickering, heads turning to see him leaning against the door frame of the gas station convenience store, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips, “looks like he got you good, y/n.”
you groaned in annoyance, “i can't believe you saw that,” you pushed taerae for good measure, “and you thought it was funny.”
hanbin shrugged, laughing along with you, “what can i say, i love a good prank when i see it.”
v.
you continued this little escapade at the gas station for a few days, more because the office was much warmer than outside and less because there was a plethora of supplies. all of the surrounding buildings ended up being a bust, completely ransacked before you even got there. thankfully you had the gas station, but it was only a matter of time before you would have to relocate. again.
the three of you were sat in the office on the foam pieces you'd been using to sleep on, looking at the map smoothed out in front of you to determine your next route. you pointed to a small town north of where you were, but before you could say anything about it, you were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of voices and rummaging out in the main area of the building. you turned to the other two, eyes wide in panic, “do you hear that?”
“yeah,” taerae was already moving to get up, his hand reaching for his gun placed on the desk beside him, “it sounds like people are trying to take our shit.”
“taerae, don’t” hanbin attempted to stop the younger boy from leaving the room, but his words went through one ear and out the other. his impulsivity never failed to amaze you.
you sighed, shaking your head as he opened up the door, completely giving away your location to whatever was out in the main lobby. you rose to your feet as well, quick to follow him out and grab his hand in a futile attempt to pull him back and keep him from going on an unintentional murder spree.
you were greeted by the bewildered gazes of a couple of boys, both very obviously malnourished and freezing, hands up in the air upon seeing taerae’s gun pointed at them. the boy in front of you two spoke up, subconsciously moving in front of the other one in a means to protect him from any harm.
“we aren't infected, i swear, we’re no threat to you,” his voice held both confidence and fear at the same time. you felt your gaze soften at their petrified expressions.
you heard a harsh slap. “ow!” taerae exclaimed, turning around to face the eldest in your group, who had a grin on his face. taerae's hand gingerly rubbing the back of his head.
he looked at the others, “you’ll have to excuse him, he can be a bit of a dickhead at times.”
you shoved taerae’s arm down, preventing him from holding the two at gunpoint any longer. he defeatedly sighed, tucking the weapon away into his pocket. he gave hanbin a scowl before muttering, “sorry.”
“that’s okay,” the taller boy spoke up, “we apologize for intruding, but we haven’t been able to eat for three days now and we were just happy to find supplies.”
“take whatever you want,” hanbin motioned to the shelves in front of them, a kind, gentle smile causing his eyes to take the shape of tiny crescents.
“thank you,” the boy opened up his bag, “i’m gunwook, by the way,” he motioned to the boy standing next to him, ”and this my brother, gyuvin.”
he smiled, giving a small wave, “nice to meet you.”
“nice to meet you too. i’m hanbin, and these are my friends taerae and y/n,” hanbin replied. he seemed almost giddy that you’d come across more people to speak and potentially form a group with.
you cleared your throat, pointing your thumb at the office, “you guys look like you’re freezing, we found some coats if you want some.”
a wave of relief washed over gyuvin, “yes please, this is all we’ve had since winter started creeping up. i’m surprised we haven’t gotten frostbite yet.”
you led him back into the room you slept in, opening up the closet door to reveal the remaining coats. you helped him find his size, and when he couldn't zip it up from how stiff his fingers were, you did it for him, smiling at him afterward. gyuvin smiled back, but it held a hint of sadness. you didn't want to inquire why, especially since you’d just met them.
he sifted through them and picked out one for gunwook. “thank you so much, really,” he sounded more grateful than you had felt when you first found them, “i’ve been really worried about what would happen the deeper we get into winter.”
“it’s not a problem. we weren’t going to use them anyway,” you looked at him as you began walking back to the rest of the group, “are you just passing through or finding somewhere to stay?”
gyuvin made eye contact with his brother, as if he were scared to say anything, but gunwook gave him a nod of approval. he parted his lips to speak, facing the entire group, “we’re actually headed to seattle.”
“for what?” taerae inquired, brows furrowed in thought, “from what i’ve heard, it’s a dead city.”
gunwook chimed in, “a few people we met not too long ago told us they were going out to try and find others to bring back to this community they’ve built and sent us on our way. apparently they have a farm, horses, and a lot more supplies than people like us could ever hope to have,” he seemed so hopeful at the prospect of so many resources.
“if you want, you guys can come with us. it would probably be a lot more beneficial to travel in a larger group anyway,” gyuvin offered, mainly making eye contact with hanbin since he was the one who appeared to have the most authority in your group.
he looked a bit hesitant, scanning the faces of both you and taerae, “do you guys want to talk about it?”
“yeah,” taerae was quick to answer, pointedly looking at the other two, feigning a fake smile, “we’ll be right back.”
the three of you locked yourselves away into the other room. taerae turned around, the expression on his face unreadable, but his words shocking both you and hanbin, “i think it’s a horrible fucking idea.”
hanbin scoffed, “and why is that?”
“these people literally just showed up not even ten minutes ago and you’re giving up our supplies and considering going with them to some community that we aren’t even sure exists,” taerae exclaimed, “plus, we /just/ lost the last of the other survivors we picked up. i’m sick of losing the people we grow close to.”
“i don’t know, taerae, i think we can trust them,” you told him, “besides, it’s better to have a larger group. you have to admit, traveling and finding supplies has been a lot harder with only three of us,” his shocked gaze met with yours and you did your best to reason with him, “they are extremely malnourished and only came to try and find food and you’re mad about that. what if it was us instead of them?”
he opened his mouth to retort something, but quickly closed it and shook his head, staring down at the floor. you gave hanbin a knowing look, a small smile on your face.
he nodded, “it’s settled then. we’re going to seattle.”
vi.
as you walked with your newly formed group, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. taerae was right; you were still navigating the feelings of your other group mates dying, but you were still less anxious when there was more of you together. you had almost given up hope that there even was anyone else.
taerae had remained silent almost the entire time you had been traveling. he was still nervous about grouping together with the strangers you had met the previous day, which you understood, but you were confused as to why it was suddenly a problem when you'd done it countless times before. another thing that bothered you was the fact that he was giving both you and hanbin the silent treatment. you scanned the other three in front of you, who were conversing about when they should set up camp for the night, and sighed, grabbing taerae's arm and making him wait until you were a few paces behind. hesitantly, you met your gaze with his, your voice as stern as you could make it when you spoke.
“what’s your problem?”
taerae looked taken aback by how blunt and straightforward you were with your question. his bewildered gaze almost immediately went back to the scowl he had previously been adorning. he shook his head, his response short as he said, “it’s nothing, y/n.”
“well, you sure aren’t acting like it’s nothing,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at how stubborn the boy was being. however, your gaze softened upon seeing his frown deepen, “talk to me. this isn’t like you.”
taerae pondered your words for a moment before finally admitting his worries to you, “i guess i’m just scared.”
“scared about what?”
“getting close to them and losing them like we did the others. they could be selfish, too. we don’t know a single thing about them and if we get in a situation where someone’s life is on the line, i fear they’re going to leave us without much thought,” his voice grew quiet upon his confession. you swore you could feel your heart break in your chest at his next words, “i can’t lose you and hanbin.”
you reached out and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently in reassurance and forcing him to look at you, “as long as you, hanbin, and i are loyal to each other, that’s all that matters, right? all we have to do is back each other up if the other two happen flake on us.”
taerae’s eyes were glossed over in clear appreciation for your words, his grip tightening on your hand, “thank you.”
“you don’t have to thank me. it’s what i’m here for,” you teased, nudging the boy playfully with your shoulder. the smile on his face was refreshing to see after having him upset the entire day since leaving the gas station.
the two of you caught back up with the rest of the group, who had come to a halt to scope out the area surrounding you all. the woods appeared to be significantly thicker, which provided more protection from any of the infected that lurked in the shadows at night. it would also be easier to make a shelter to sleep in overnight.
gunwook turned, asking the two of you, “what do you think?”
taerae was the first to speak, “i think it’s definitely a decent spot for now. it looks like we might be able to have an area for a fire as well.”
to say you were shocked was an understatement. hanbin shared a look with you, a grin threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth. you knew the eldest was worried that taerae was going to stay in his funk for days on end, but the look of relief was enough to cause you to feel it too. the boy winked at you, asking the group, “should we split into shifts to keep watch over everything?”
“i’m not opposed to the idea,” gyuvin piped up, pulling his coat closer to his body. it was clear he was still freezing despite having a lot more warmth than when you first met him, “i can take the first one if you want.”
it was your turn to pitch in, “i’ll join you, it’s best to work in teams of two.”
he gave you a grateful smile. you honestly thought that he’s someone you could wind up being really good friends with. you just wished it didn’t have to be because the apocalypse brought you together.
— — —
the evening came quickly once camp was set up for the night. hanbin and gunwook had managed to get a pretty decent fire going considering the fact that most of the wood you all found was damp or frozen from the snow. you all had welcomed the warmth with open arms.
since everyone was able to take most of the supplies from the gas station, the thin foam that you had used for mattresses the night before were now neatly laid out on the ground in a dense thicket of trees that had already formed somewhat of a shelter. It was certainly a lot better than what you, hanbin, or taerae had made in the past.
one thing taerae was particularly happy about was being able to warm up some of the food you guys had. he even accepted the beans with a smile instead of turning up his nose to them, which caused both you and hanbin to giggle at him.
the five of you sat around the fire, recounting your stories of what happened when the outbreak was first announced. taerae was laughing his head off, stating, “y/n really thought i was joking when i went into their room and told them what was happening.”
you threw a wadded up wrapper at him, “in my defense, he is constantly messing with me,” you looked at gyuvin and gunwook, who were laughing along with you, and joked, “watch out for him, because soon he'll be pranking you guys too.”
“what were you guys doing?” hanbin asked the two of them, and they sat deep in thought for a moment, gyuvin finally telling them, “i’m pretty sure we were staying the night at our brother’s house. if i’m remembering correctly, it was a friday, and we usually did stuff together after school.”
“yeah, it was, i think we were getting ready to go out to dinner,” gunwook added, “and instead of getting in the car normally, it felt like we were the main characters of an action movie or something. ricky drove like a maniac.”
you laughed at the image you had in your head of not only their experience, yours as well, “taerae ran one of our neighbors over when we were trying to get off of our street.”
gunwook’s eyes widened, his smile stretched from ear to ear as he said, “becoming a murderer early on, i see.”
your laughter began to die down as the sun started to set, and your playful conversation turned into solemn ones. hanbin stared at the dancing flames, quietly asking, “i hope this isn't prying too much, but how did it end up just being the two of you?”
gyuvin sighed. you could tell this was a touchy subject, but he was willing to answer hanbin's question, “he got turned not too long ago. we got ambushed by the biggest mob of infected we’ve ever encountered since the outbreak,” his voice cracked as he said the next part, “he shielded us the entire time we were fighting them.”
“he ended up getting bit and made us tie him to a tree so we would have time to run,” gunwook’s solemn gaze made your heart twinge in sadness for them. you couldn't imagine losing hanbin or taerae like that, if at all, and wondered how your new friends were even managing to push through.
taerae gave the pair a close-lipped smile, “it sounds like he was an amazing brother to have.”
“yeah,” gyuvin seemed deep in thought, a stray tear racing down his cheek, “he was.”
— — —
as soon as darkness engulfed the woods, gunwook, hanbin, and taerae settled down and drifted off to sleep, which left you and gyuvin sat by the fire to keep watch over the camp. the boy was sat across from you, his knees drawn up to his chest and his gaze fixed on the flickering flames that illuminated his face. he was practically glued to gunwook’s side.
softly, he questioned, “hey, can i ask you something?”
you glanced at him, confusion painted across your features, “of course, what’s up?”
he sighed. it looked like he was contemplating even saying something to begin with, but finally, after you assumed he won his internal battle, he asked, “does taerae hate gunwook and i or something? he seemed angry when we first met and i don’t want us to intrude on whatever the three of you were hoping to do.”
“no, he doesn’t hate you at all,” you reassured, which caused his shoulders to visibly relax. you fell silent for a moment, gazing over at the boy who was curled up as close to hanbin as the eldest would allow. he looked so at peace, which you rarely ever saw from him. you turned back to the boy across from you, “he’s just incredibly protective of the two of us. it’s really been only us together since the start of all of this and he doesn’t want to lose either of us, is all.”
“i completely understand that,” gyuvin replied, shifting to now lean back against the tree stump behind him, “i hope you never have to go through what we did, that's for sure.”
“could i ask you a question now?”
gyuvin nodded, “sure.”
“i noticed this the other day, but you just seem to get sad whenever i’m around, and i wanted to make sure it was nothing i was doing,” you were hoping that you didn't seem like you were accusing him of anything, and he most definitely didn't take it that way.
he offered a sad smile with his answer, “you just remind me a lot of ricky, is all. you guys are very similar in terms of personality.”
“well, i know i can't ever fill his spot, but i can still be there to support you throughout this entire journey we’re on.”
a small cry escaped gyuvin’s lips as he angrily wiped his tears away from his cheeks, “thank you, it really means a lot to hear that.”
once he collected himself, the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation, telling stories from your childhood and even some crazy ones of times where you thought you were going to die in the midst of the apocalypse. for the first time in a while, you felt content. at peace, even.
you hoped it would happen more often.
— — —
the woods were serene at night when you didn't have to fear for your life. the soft chirps of the crickets, the occasional hoot of an owl, and even the crackle of the fire brought you a sense of comfort and security you hadn't felt for a very long time; since the start of the apocalypse, really. but for whatever reason, you just couldn't sleep.
maybe it was because you were thinking back on your conversation with taerae and the concerns he expressed about losing you or hanbin. or maybe it was the added stress of gyuvin and gunwook’s story. it could have been something entirely different, but you just couldn't doze off for the life of you.
you huffed out a frustrated sigh, eventually sitting up from your cocoon on the ground and scanning the areas surrounding the fire. the only one awake was hanbin, taerae having dozed off again shortly after being woken up for his shift. hanbin insisted he didn't mind, especially since everything seemed to be relaxed, but you still felt bad he had to stay awake entirely on his own.
he glanced over at you, gentle smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he whispered, “can’t sleep?”
you shook your head as a response, eventually making your way over to his post and plopping down next to him, the fire emitting a slightly warmer flow of air in your direction. hanbin peered down at you, a fond smile ever so slightly on his lips, and you swore the butterflies in your stomach might give your feelings away. instead, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and fixing your gaze on the fire.
you could feel the pressure of hanbin’s head resting on top of yours, his voice almost inaudible as he asked, “do you think anything will ever return to normal? like sometime in the future, do you think there's a chance things will go back to the way they used to be?”
a heavy silence hung in the air as you pondered his question, absentmindedly beginning to pick at a string hanging down from inside of hanbin’s coat sleeve. you could feel your eyes begin to gloss over as you thought about the nights you'd spend pestering hanbin while he attempted to do his coursework for college, or how you'd always give taerae advice on songs he'd written on his guitar. everything was so much simpler, so much /better./
“i don't think so,” you gave your honest response to him, “i mean, everything is destroyed and gone. it'll take years and years to even get rid of the infected, let alone rebuild the entire country to what it used to be,” a shaky sigh from you followed suit to your words, leaving hanbin to think on them.
he clicked his tongue, “then i guess we’ll have to make a new normal, right?”
“i suppose so,” you hummed, “but how would we go about that?”
“i don't know, but hopefully we’ll figure it out.”
conversations with hanbin were always something you treasured. he gave you new perspectives on things that you wouldn't have even considered before and logically thought through everything. you admired him for that, and it was one of the many reasons you developed feelings for him in the first place. but you knew, deep down, that you wouldn't be able to live the life you wanted with him. you doubted he even returned your feelings.
besides, there would always be infected in the way.
vii.
having new friends that you actually got along with made a huge difference in your travels. there was a lot more team work, laughs, and supplies that you were able to get your hands on. it was arguably the most productive you'd ever been and the quickest you had gotten to know strangers. it felt like you were friends for your entire life.
it didn't take gyuvin very long to catch on to your feelings for hanbin, and soon he was teasing you alongside taerae when you weren't in earshot of him. gyuvin’s antics were far less intense, and he asked you lots of questions about why you'd grown so fond of the eldest boy. he listened with open ears and was able to see the mannerisms that hanbin displayed easily after your conversations with him.
it felt nice to just gush to someone who would listen to you.
you were currently attempting to break into a shed to see if there was any useful weapons inside considering gyuvin’s was starting to give out on him. you lunged forward, hitting your hip into the rotted out door, and it gave way easier than you thought. you coughed as dust and wood chips rained down toward the dilapidated floors.
there was a lone infected inside, which was fighting for its life to even hobble over toward you, and you swiftly put it out of its misery, watching in disgust as it crumpled to the floor. you stepped over its now limp body, gyuvin's following closely behind, exploring the shed further than just standing in the doorway. you kept your knife out just in case you were to come across anymore, eyes scanning your surroundings in an attempt to fine something that would hold up.
“i don't think this is a question i asked you yet,” gyuvin broke the silence, “but have you ever considered telling hanbin how you feel?”
you had to hold back from bursting into a fit of laughter, taking a deep breath, before you chuckled, “you and taerae are so similar it's crazy.”
you ducked under a cobweb in front of you, careful not to disrupt it in fear of a spider crawling on you. gyuvin mimicked your actions, inquiring, “why do you say that?”
“he asked me the same exact thing.”
you were now standing in front of a wall of rusted weapons. gyuvin looked slightly defeated, but instead of dwelling on that, he turned his attention back to you, “well, it's not a horrible question. i mean, it's better late than never, right?”
you just giggled at him, crouching down to open up a door on a workbench, “i guess so. maybe i will someday, when we’re in seattle or something. that way if he rejects me, i’ll have a home to go into and sulk.”
gyuvin’s cackle echoed inside the barn. you flared up at him, pulling the machete you found out from the self, pointing it at him jokingly, before you threatened, “keep it up and i’ll cut your head off with this and feed it to an infected.”
“hey!”
you handed your find to gyuvin, who admired it in awe, mouth slightly agape and a plethora of thank you's slipping past his lips. the two of you made your way back outside, meeting up with the other three who were attempting to get a car started, but to no avail. gunwook was turning the key in the ignition but had no success of getting the engine to turn over.
“i take it this whole car thing is a lost cause?” you inquired, looking at the three of them inquisitively. taerae and hanbin had their heads underneath the hood of the car, inspecting the engine in order to, what you assumed, find out what was wrong with it.
gunwook attempted to turn the key again, and while the vehicle made sound, it was more along the lines of grinding than anything else. he finally looked at you and gyuvin, “i think so, we’ve been working on it for an hour now and nothing has worked.”
“i mean, we’ve walked this much already. we really can't miss what we never had, right?” gyuvin reasoned as he attached his new machete to is pants.
gunwook shrugged, “i suppose so,” he looked almost bummed out, “it just would have been nice to take a break from walking.”
hanbin shut the hood of the car, now gaining your attention. his hands were smeared with grease and a fine layer of sweat had broken out across his forehead. you blinked a few times, finally finding it in you to tear your eyes away from him.
you parted your lips to speak, motioning to the road ahead, “guess we better get moving while it's still light out.”
— — —
you’d volunteered to take the last shift of watch for the night. you knew you wouldn't really be able to sleep anyway, so you didn't mind, and would rather everyone else get some well deserved rest instead. this was a common thing for you now, not being able to sleep. you just couldn't get your mind to ever shut up. usually, it was creating the most morbid scenarios, which would either cause nightmares or for you to be so paranoid you felt you had to stay awake.
you supposed that's what came with life during an apocalypse, but it didn't make it any easier. you wished so badly that you could just go back to normal, or that this was just some cruel, twisted dream you could wake up from. but it wasn't, and you were stuck here fantasizing about a life you would never have again.
the fire crackled softly, illuminating the surrounding area in a peaceful orange glow. you could hear the soft breaths of everyone, a slight snore emitting from taerae, and you smiled to yourself. seeing the people you'd grown to care about so still and calm brought a sense of comfort to you, and almost made it feel like you were at a sleepover of some sort.
you heaved a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on your arms. you sat like that for a while, mind reeling with all the opportunities you were missing out on, and a stray tear raced down your face. there was gentle rustling next to you, and soon after, hanbin rose up from his place on the ground, a sleepy smile stretching across the expanse of his face.
“i feel bad you're not getting any rest,” his voice was raspy with sleep as he spoke. he shifted his body so he could be sitting up next to you. he extended his legs in front of him, a yawn catching him by surprise, “if you want to try and get some before we leave, i can take over watch.”
you pondered it for a moment, finally nodding in defeat, and began to stretch out on the ground yourself. however, he caught you off guard, putting his lap, and murmuring, “you can use me as a pillow if you want, i know not having one isn't the most ideal.”
you could feel your heartbeat in your throat at his offer, silently nodding as you shifted your weight around, finally settling onto the ground and lowering your head onto his thighs, a content sigh slipping past your lips. you had to admit, he was right, and you didn't think you would be doing this when you first woke up that morning. hanbin pulled the blanket over you, enveloping you in a warmth you hadn't felt in a very long time.
delicately, he threaded his fingers through your hair, and your eyes fluttered shut at the contact. you sighed contentedly, mumbling a soft, “thank you,” to which hanbin chuckled quietly.
the feeling of his hand massaging your scalp caused your body to relax much quicker than you thought it would, and you were soon fighting to stay awake and relish in the feeling of it. before you finally succumbed to sleep, you swore you could could hear him barely whisper, “i’ll be here when you wake up, my love.”
viii.
“y/n, hanbin, wake up!” a voice pulled you from the surprisingly deep slumber you had fallen into despite the frigidly cold temperatures. an extremely panicked voice, though, the person’s hands gripping your shoulder and shaking you lightly in an attempt to get you to hurry.
you shot up from your nest of blankets and hanbin’s legs, body close to taerae the moment you did so. your gaze locked with his, and instantly, you knew something was horribly wrong. he was quick to answer your suspicions, “infected, there’s a lot and we need to get moving,” hanbin cursed quietly under his breath next to you, angry at himself for even dozing back off in the first place.
quick to get on your feet, you began shoving the blankets into your bag - rather haphazardly, might you add - your hands shaking from the anxiety you felt from the situation. hanbin remained close to you throughout the process, packing away the food you guys had left sitting out through the night. you glanced around, taking note that the other three were still within your line of vision, and you felt slightly relieved knowing everyone was still in a general vicinity of one another.
a deep, rumbling growl resonated to the left of you. you turned, being greeted by an infected with outstretched arms haphazardly swinging at you, and his jaw hanging slack as he approached you. his flesh was missing in chunks around his cheekbones and his eyes were beginning to sink in from the disease. his hair was in matted, pale blonde tufts on his head. you’d never gotten the chance to actually see an infected’s features in tact like this before, and to say you were shocked was an understatement. he must have been freshly turned.
you scrambled backwards the closer he approached, pulling your knife out from its holster on your pant leg. however, the pained cry of gyuvin stopped you from killing it right then and there.
“ricky?”
the walker turned his head quickly at the sound of his name and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. the boy was attempting to run forward, but gunwook was able to wrap his arms around him before he could make it any further, “gyu, you can’t, there’s no saving him. you know that.”
you made eye contact with his brother, desperately searching for what to do, but his solemn and knowing expression told you everything. he turned gyuvin around, pulling him close to his chest, one of his hands holding the back of his head as he sobbed, “don’t look, okay?”
to ensure you didn’t overthink what you were about to do, you swung your knife forward, sinking it deep into the side of ricky’s neck. he sputtered loudly, dark crimson blood spraying out from the wound and onto your hand and sleeve of your jacket, some of it speckling on your face in the process. you twisted the knife and pressed your boot to his chest to shove him away as he fell, throwing your bag onto your back in a haste.
“come on, there’s more following in behind him,” hanbin grabbed onto your arm the moment you hesitated, realizing just exactly what you had done.
it wasn’t supposed to be difficult killing infected, yet here you were.
you followed behind him, meeting up with the rest of the group before everyone began to run on the same road you had been following to seattle. none of you really had time to take in everything that had happened in the past five minutes due to the large mob following hot on your trail, their wicked screams echoing through the empty fields that surrounded you.
your breathing was erratic, legs and lungs both burning from the amount of energy you were putting into getting away from them. the road was slick with thick ice and it made it difficult to get any sort of traction. over the yelling, you were able to make out taerae’s voice, “keep an eye out for any kind of shelter!”
you squinted, scanning for anything up ahead that could prove useful to the group of you. however, gunwook was the first to notice something, “right over there! it looks like an old farmhouse!”
you took a sharp turn onto the gravel driveway that led up to quite a tucked away house, pushing your legs to go faster. the sooner you got there, the better it was for the group overall. the mob behind you was starting to lessen the more you ran, thankfully, and by time you got to the front door the five of you only had to kill a few before you could stop and catch your breath.
nobody hesitated to go inside, careful to clear each room and make sure infected hadn’t wandered in. taerae rounded the corner of the kitchen, announcing, “i think we’re safe for now. we should probably rest for a minute before we leave again.”
“would it hurt to explore? see what this place has to offer?” gyuvin asked, the tremble in his voice hard to miss as he spoke. tears stained his face, streaked through the layers of dirt caked on his cheeks and revealing the pale skin beneath it. he was suffering, and rightfully upset, so you knew there was no consoling him until he was able to calm down and have some time to just himself.
hanbin gauged everyone’s reactions, eyes resting on your blood splattered face, gaze softening. he parted his chapped lips, stating, “honestly, depending on what’s here, we could always stay for a few days and actually think of a better plan instead of just winging it and something like this happening again.”
“i’d have to agree on this one,” gunwook replied, “i don't want something like that to ever happen again, really.”
everyone wordlessly began to rummage around in the house, searching for anything that could be useful. you took note of how clean the place was despite the apocalypse occurring in the outside world. you turned into the bathroom, twisting the knob of the faucet on as a joke, only to be pleasantly surprised at the sound of running water. “guys! the water here works!” you called, dipping your finger under the stream, excitement bubbling into the pit of your belly, “and it’s warm!”
“the pantries and fridge are stocked full of food as well,” hanbin piped up, the excitement evident in his voice, “and there’s power? this place is loaded!”
“the people who were here previously must either be out or newly turned,” taerae remarked.
it only brought you to the harsh reality of what had just happened.
your gaze snapped up to your reflection in the mirror. ricky’s blood managed to get smeared across your cheek and mixed into the dirt and grime that had made a home on your skin quite some time ago now. your hand was stained red and your sleeve still heavily damp with blood, which you swore you could smell, and it made you feel sick.
you hurriedly shut the door and fell to your knees in front of the toilet, wretching at the stench and realization that you killed someone’s brother, gyuvin and gunwook’s brother, and you had to live with that for the remainder of time you were with them. a soft cry pushed out of your lungs as you vomited again, completely emptying the contents of your stomach, and you felt you couldn't do it another time. you flushed the toilet and sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror once more.
a quiet knock was able to be heard on the bathroom door and you opened it, greeted by hanbin, who’s eyes were concerned and his lips were contorted into a deep frown. “y/n?” hanbin’s voice was soft, “are you okay?”
and you burst into tears.
hanbin pulled you close, his embrace strong around your body. you were sure you’d collapse onto the ground if he wasn’t holding onto you at that moment. he rocked your bodies slightly, humming into your ear as a means to calm you down in some sort of way, “you did what you had to do. gunwook wouldn’t have told you to do it if he didn’t think it was necessary.”
you tried like hell to get the butterflies in your stomach to go away as he pressed a quick, comforting kiss to the crown of your head. not when you had just killed gyuvin’s brother and you were reaping the consequences of that.
you shook your head, getting ready to respond to him, but were stopped by the sound of gyuvin choking on his sobs as he sat on the couch. gunwook’s voice attempted to comfort him, “i know it hurts, but you and i both know ricky would rather be put out of his misery than stay infected.”
“i could have prevented this all, wook, that’s the problem.”
“don’t do that to yourself. he wouldn’t have let you stay with him no matter the circumstances,” gunwook reassured him, “let’s go see about a bath for you and clean up, yeah? maybe that’ll make you feel better.”
their voices faded away as they headed upstairs. you gripped onto hanbin tighter, fists balled into the fabric of his jacket, letting out your own cry. you wouldn't blame gyuvin if he hated you for the rest of your time together. you would be angry if the roles were reversed, so you couldn't even fault him for that.
“y/n, i think maybe we need to do what gyuvin and gunwook are doing and get you cleaned up,” hanbin was gentle with you, pulling away from the hug slightly to get a better look at your face. his thumb came up to wipe the fresh tears away from your eyes, and you found solace in how nicely he was treating you.
you sat there for a moment, relishing in the feeling, before you pulled out of the hug to avoid getting overwhelmed with any more emotions, shrugging your jacket off to rid yourself of the reminder of what you’d done not even an hour ago. you sat down on the toilet after putting the lid down and allowed hanbin to get a shower started, your entire body going numb in the process.
at this point, you hoped an infected would take you.
viiii.
you felt unusually warm, though you weren’t complaining in the slightest. sighing softly, you shifted around on the mattress beneath you, tired eyes attempting to open but failing miserably. an arm was slung lazily around you, soft breaths of the sleeping boy in front of you the only thing able to be heard other than the rustling of the blankets.
you finally gained the energy to open your eyes, at least halfway, and you were greeted by the sight of a peaceful looking hanbin, his hair sitting beautifully across his forehead and his lips curled up slightly in the corners.
your heart felt like it was found to beat out of your chest. You had cuddled with both him and taerae a number of times throughout your attempts to survive, but never like this. you were the only one in the room with the dark haired boy, eyes trained on his serene face and your stomach doing backflips.
hanbin took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering open, and he gazed at you with a quiet chuckle. he parted his lips to speak, voice deep and raspy from having just awoken from his slumber, “good morning, sleepyhead.”
“i don’t think i’m the sleepyhead here,” you giggled, poking your index finger into his chest, “i was awake way before you were.” you paused before asking, “how did i end up in your bed, anyway?”
though he woke up with a slightly playful demeanor, it quickly faded with a frown that tugged harshly at his lips, his brows creased and his eyes searching yours, “i figured you were too out of it to remember. you had a really rough night trying to grasp the fact that you killed ricky. taerae had fallen asleep relatively early and i just offered for you to sleep in here so you didn’t have to be alone.”
you were so caught up in the bliss of feeling safe and warm you almost forgot about ricky.
hanbin caught on quickly to your mood change and to the fact that tears instantly glossed your eyes over. he reached his hand out, calloused thumb collecting the liquid as it dropped down onto your cheeks.
“you did what you had to,” he reassured.
all you had to offer him was a sad smile, “it definitely doesn’t feel like it. i wouldn’t be surprised if gyuvin doesn’t talk to me at all, i know if the roles were reversed i wouldn’t say a thing to him.”
he opened up his arms for you, inviting you to snuggle deeper into his chest. you obliged, allowing the boy to hold you while soft sobs erupted from your lips. quietly, he said, “once he realizes you did it out of good intentions he’ll come around. i know he will.”
you nodded, trying your best to convince yourself that what he was telling you had some sort of truth to it. you closed your eyes and relished in the boy's embrace, fearing that he would be able to hear how loud your heart was beating while you laid with him like this. you felt his lips graze your forehead, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he said, “i have something i wanted to tell you.”
you opened your eyes back up at his words, looking at him inquisitively, “what's that?”
“i know now might not be a good time, but i just wanted to tell you that i have a c-”
he was interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping against the door to your shared room, “hanbin?” taerae’s voice called from the other side.
the door knob twisted and he swung it open, beginning to step into the room before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the two of you cuddled up together. his posture was still and something unreadable flashed in his eyes, his tone monotonous as he spoke, “apparently i’m interrupting something, but i just wanted to let you know that gunwook is almost done cooking breakfast for whenever you decide to join us.”
with that, he shut the door rather harshly in his wake, the sound of his heavy footsteps receding down the stairs the only thing filling the silence he left behind. sighing, hanbin was the first to speak, “i assume he’s in one of his moods.”
“probably so,” you agreed with a nod, “i’m going to head down and attempt some sort of damage control. maybe we can finish this conversation later?”
hanbin nodded, “okay, i’m going to change my clothes and i’ll be down after that,” he replied offering you a soft, reassuring smile as you slipped your boots on and opened the door.
once you reached the dining room, you took note of taerae’s hostile attitude as he shoved scrambled eggs down his throat, his facial features set in a deep scowl. he looked up when you entered, shoving his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. the boy rose to his feet and stalked past you, spitting, “i’m going on a walk.”
“you can’t go alone, it’s too dangerous,” gunwook called out in an attempt to get taerae to stay within the confines of the farmhouse.
taerae scoffed, “i don’t think i fucking asked.”
he stepped out onto the front porch and began walking down the gravel driveway, his hands shoved into his pockets as he did so. you heaved a sigh, “i’ll go with him. i think it’s me he’s upset with anyway.”
“just be safe, we can’t afford to lose anyone,” gyuvin’s voice was quiet, but you still gave him an appreciative smile before following taerae out the door.
you broke into a jog to catch up with his long stride, finally managing to walk beside him. you grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. searching his eyes, you asked, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”
a look of annoyance adorned his face as he shook your hand away, “when i said i was going on a walk, i meant /without you/.” he started walking again, this time his pace much quicker than before in an attempt to get you to go back to the house. however, you were just as stubborn as he was. you stood your ground and continued following him.
“i don’t think it’s very fair for you to be in a pissy mood with everyone and not give a reason as to why,” you snapped, now gaining his full attention as he whipped around to face you, anger evident in his eyes.
“you’re joking, right? /i’m/ the one being unfair?” he scoffed, “that’s rich coming from you, y/n.”
you gave him a dry laugh, rolling your eyes in the process, “i don’t even know what i did.”
“go ask your new boyfriend, i’m sure he could know.”
“so that’s what you’re upset about? we literally just shared a bed,” your futile attempt to reason with him went in one ear and out the other as he turned his back to you again and trudged onto a path in the woods, his fists balled up beside him.
he suddenly stopped in a clearing, his shoulders tensing and his head bowed as if he were contemplating something. he sucked in a breath, though you didn’t expect him to raise his voice at you, “i don’t think you’re capable of understanding signs that are put directly in front of you and it’s so fucking frustrating!”
“i genuinely don't know what you're talking about taerae, please just tell me so we can fix it,” you shouted back, “it's not okay to just yell at me and not give a reason why.”
taerae closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost as if to calm himself down, and in a completely different tone he said, “i just feel like you and hanbin are excluding me. it's obvious you two like each other and i just feel like an outcast now.”
“first of all, i doubt hanbin likes me back,” you started, holding your hand up to hush him when he tried to interrupt you, “and second, i’m sorry if we have made you feel that way. i never want you to feel sad because of something i have done, so i will do better and fix it.”
taerae nodded, “i’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“it's okay, if you have any other issues just come to me like this instead of getting mad and storming out,” you playfully scolded, beginning to walk back toward the house. hanbin was stood in the doorway watching the two of you, a fond smile on his face.
taerae leaned over, whispering in your ear, “he's crazy about you, trust me.”
you blushed a deep red, smacking him on the arm, “stop it!”
“just speaking the truth,” he shrugged matter-of-factly, unable to suppress the grin on his face as he bounded up the stairs and greeted hanbin, returning to the dining table to finish up his breakfast.
you stopped outside, locking your gaze with hanbin's, trying like crazy not to blush or make it obvious that you were flustered. he was quick to ask, “is everything okay now?”
“yeah, he just needed calmed down,” you told him, laughing as you said, “i’m shocked we didn't get attacked by infected with how loud he was yelling.”
“maybe he scared them away,” hanbin mused.
hanbin allowed you to enter the house first, muttering something about how you should have grabbed a jacket because it's freezing out, and you playfully bantered as you sat at the table with the rest of the group. you were across from taerae, who gave you a knowing look, and you had to look away from him.
it was comical to watch him try not to yell because you kicked him under the table.
x.
your group had made the decision to stay at the farmhouse until you ran out of resources. its owners never returned, never fended you away from their property or supplies, and you sure as hell didn't want anyone else to take it from you. besides, if you could be stable there for a bit, it would give ample time to rest and complete your journey to seattle when it was warmer outside.
spring came quicker than you'd hoped, but while the weather was still unpredictable, you didn't plan on going anywhere. instead, you build a functioning garden to at least try and sustain yourselves as much as possible, opting to grow some vegetables. you mainly took care of them, which is where you were currently, your hands deep in the potting soil in an attempt to move a few of your crops around to some bigger pots you'd found in the shed a couple days ago.
your heart jolted in your chest when a figure crouched down next to you, but soon relaxed upon seeing it was hanbin, offering you a helping hand, “i always feel bad you're out here doing this on your own most days.”
“i don't mind it, really,” you shrugged, scooping up some dirt in your hand and patting it around the plant to stabilize it in its new home, “it brings a little bit of comfort, reminds me of the days before the outbreak.”
he nodded in understanding, helping you finish up what you were doing before he quietly asked, “wanna go for a walk?”
you weren't sure why he was suddenly asking this, but you could use a break to stretch out your legs. you you wiped your hands off on your jeans to shake the excess dirt off, and then ran them under the water spigot to clean them as much as you could. hanbin opened up the gate after you signaled you were ready, allowing you to go first and step down onto the path you used to walk down to the creek in the woods.
a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, the quiet chirps of the birds filling your ears and the cool breeze ruffling through your hair. it was peaceful, and you had to admit, it was bringing you a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in such a long time.
hanbin stopped once he got to a clearing, settling down on a patch of grass by the water and patting the spot next to him for you. plopping down almost instantly, you quirked an eyebrow up at him, questioning, “is there any particular reason we’re here?”
while you expected him to say he just wanted to make sure you were giving yourself a break, he surprised you by answering, “yeah, actually, there is.”
you cocked your head to the side, silently urging him to go on. he nervously swallowed, finally turning to face you, a sudden confidence dancing in his dark irises, “you know that conversation we were having a couple weeks ago before taerae threw his tantrum?”
“yes?” you answered hesitantly, not entirely sure where he was wanting to go with this. you felt the butterflies in your belly begin to dance when you took note of the way his eyes briefly flickered down to your lips, but it was over as soon as it happened.
“well, um, i just wanted to finish that conversation, because it's been bothering me for a while and i just need to get this out.”
his burning gaze met yours, a fond smile curling up the corners of his mouth. you could feel your heart begin to beat in your chest, praying to god he couldn't tell how visibly flustered you were. he reached his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, parting his lips to speak, “i have a crush on you, y/n, i have for a while.”
while it was a simple confession, it was something you would treasure for the rest of your life. it was a breath of fresh air amidst chaos and fear, something that made you feel like you were floating for the first time since the outbreak. you felt stupid smiling so big, but to mask your hint of embarrassment, you told him, “i have a crush on you too, bin. i feel like it's been obvious.”
“not really,” he said, “i could kind of pick up little hints, but it was nothing too major. you honestly held it in well, i was worried you wouldn't return the feelings.”
“well, i promise i do.”
hanbin took your relaxed stance as a sign cup your cheek with his hand, inching closer and closer, finally muttering, “can i?”
you timidly smiled, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks, “of course.”
without any hesitation, he closed the distance between the two of you, melding your lips together perfectly. you weren't sure if it was because he was hanbin, and he was perfect already, or if it was because this moment had been anticipated for so long by the both of you, but it was everything you could have ever asked for. he filled you with warmth and made you melt into his touch. your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in the moment before he broke away, his forehead pressed against yours, “i can't wait to do that more often.”
“me either,” you smiled, leaning forward again to steal another kiss from him, “i think i could get used to it.”
the two of you decided to scrounge around and look for any useful supplies before you went back to the farmhouse. you found a canteen and a gas lantern by the water, assuming someone had left it there - whether it was on purpose or not, you'll never know - and attempted to find anything else before you began your trek back up the trail to the farmhouse.
you began laughing the moment you caught sight of taerae on the front porch a “thank fucking god” erupting from
his lips the moment he saw your fingers intertwined with one another. he said something along the lines of it being painful to watch the mutual pining and no one making a move. you nudged him playfully, admitting to him that he was right.
your group would be leaving out within the next few weeks, and you anticipated everything seattle had to offer you, and you could only hope it would be as good as this.
it was close.
xi.
saying goodbye to the farmhouse was a lot harder than you hoped it would be. while you knew it was for the best, it killed you to leave running water, a thriving garden, and cozy bed to sleep in every single night. you knew you would have those things in seattle, but the remainder of the traveling there was going to be difficult, mainly because you'd all gotten spoiled on the luxury of not worrying about where you'll be staying.
you set out on the rest of your journey early that morning, backpacks filled to the brim with supplies and plenty of food and water to get you through what you hoped would only be a week. you didn't run into many issues along the way, and had made an agreement to meet on the outskirts of the city if everything went wrong; and you hoped it wouldn't.
the air was thick with humidity, and the feeling of grime caked on your skin wasn't something you missed by any means. you were filled with hope upon seeing a metal sign on the side of the road, and while it was rusting and filled with holes, you saw the words outlines clearly in white, highly contrasting with the green background.
seattle, 1 mile.
you gave hanbin’s hand a firm squeeze, peering up at him
through your lashes, and feeling tears sting at your eyes. you were finally almost to the place you would call home, where you could get as normal of a life as possible, and you'd be able to do it with your friends and boyfriend. maybe, just maybe, it was finally your time to have something really good happen for you.
“what kind of food do you think they make there?” gyuvin asked, earning laughs from most of the group, and you all began to make small talk of what was to come, unknowingly picking up your pace.
the sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful glow across the horizon, and illuminating the sight in front of you. it was breathtaking, and making you all the more excited to finally get inside the safety of the gates that lie ahead.
but the harsh reality was, in this lifetime, nothing good lasted forever.
something felt off as you approached the edge of the city. there were no signs of life to be found; you were greeted with empty streets and eerie silence. taerae stopped in his tracks, eyes frantically searching the map, a mantra of “no, no, no” falling from his lips at a million miles a minute.
“what's wrong?” gyuvin inquired, peeking over taerae's shoulder to see if he could figure it out himself, but to no avail. taerae folded up the map in frustration, shoving it in his back locked, and turning to the group to say, “there is no settlement.”
gunwook’s voice held a hint of worry, “why do you say that?”
taerae chuckled frustratedly, spinning around with his arms wide open, motioning to the deserted, crumbling city around you, “we went exactly to the place you said those people told you to, and here we are, with no other person in sight,” he quickly met gazes with you and hanbin, “we're completely doomed.”
“maybe we can try going back to the farmhouse, we were doing so well there,” hanbin suggested, attempting to bring some sort of level headedness to your current situation, but taerae was far from receptive to it.
he began walking around, his behavior growing a little more irrational. he turned around, pointing at gyuvin and gunwook, who both adorned bewildered looks, and stated through gritted teeth, “this is all your fault, i knew we shouldn't have listened to you.”
“kim taerae!” you intervened, catching the attention of the dark haired boy, a glint of anger evident in his expression, “you are being a little ridiculous, we can figure something out.”
“no, we can't,” he scoffed, “we traveled miles and miles and miles to be greeted with nothing, i feel like my frustration is completely justified,” taerae allowed a yell to rip through his lungs, the sole of his boot loudly stomping on a bent “welcome to seattle” sign that had made its home on the crumbling concrete beneath you.
before anyone could hush him, or ask if he was stupid, the resonating sound of infected filled your ears, but it was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. it sent panic shooting straight to the pit of your stomach, and it wasn't long before the filled your line of vision completely.
hundreds of them.
the five of you began to run, desperately trying to stick together, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult than you thought. you heard hanbin holler a “split up” before you headed off into different directions, gyuvin and gunwook together one way, and your original trio the other. you clung to hanbin's hand for dear life, keeping careful watch of taerae to make sure he was keeping up.
you were all too soon met with a fork in your path, and hanbin was quick to think on his feet, letting go of your hand and pushing you toward taerae with an apologetic smile, quickly telling him, “make sure to keep them safe.”
you let out a cry, “hanbin, no!” but it was too late, because he was taking a pipe and banging it on a dumpster nearby, gaining the attention of the infected that had been hot on your trail, and pushing his legs to move him faster down the alley and out of your line of vision.
you attempted to run after him, but taerae grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you shook yourself from his grasp, screaming through your tears, “we can't leave him, taerae,” a sob raking over your body, “please!”
“hanbin will be fine, y/n, he always is,” taerae reasoned with you, “he'll make it back to us and you know it.”
before you could argue with him anymore, taerae was grabbing your arm again and dragging you along with him, attempting to find the edge of the city again. your legs were burning with each push you made to keep running, and by time you finally made it to a clearing, your lungs felt like they could collapse at any given moment.
you desperately looked around, trying to find hanbin, or gyuvin and gunwook, and your eyes finally settled on the trembling figures of the two brothers on the ground up ahead, panting hard and trembling from the realization of the events that just occurred.
you caught up to them, but before you could say anything, you turned around to face taerae, finally allowing the rage you'd managed to keep at bay during that mess to unleash itself on him, “i cannot believe you would put our whole group on jeopardy like that,” you stepped toward him, palms of your hands meeting his chest and shoving him backwards, “you made hanbin feel like he had no choice but to sacrifice himself so we could live, you know that right?”
taerae’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, not knowing what at all to say to you. scoffing, you said, “you are so fuckinh selfish.”
with that, you stormed off, ignore everyone’s futile attempts of getting you to calm down. the three ended up following behind you, making sure to keep your remaining group together as night approached, and you eventually stopped and set up camp for the night, but refused to utter a single word to taerae.
you could only hope hanbin would survive the night.
— — —
you and the other three waited on the outskirts of the city like you planned, anxiously awaiting hanbin’s arrival to your small camp, if it ever came. it had been hours now, and you were still not speaking to taerae, now having graduated to refusing to look at him. his attempts at apologizing to you were futile, because he knew sorry would never be enough to heal the ache in your heart and the constant worrying on your mind.
as the morning sun broke through the sky, you sat in front of the smoldering fire, knees drawn up to your chest and eyes stinging with fresh tears. gyuvin was sat down next to you, his hand rubbing your back in a comforting way, his presence greatly appreciated, but you had a hard time croaking anything out.
a flash of brilliant red came into your vision, causing you to finally tear your gaze away from the ashes before you, seeing a rain of fiery glitter shimmering down from the sky in waves. you blinked a few times, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but gyuvin had stopped rubbing your back in return for staring at the sight before you, mouth agape.
it had to be hanbin.
you began silently packing your things into your backpack, gyuvin closely following suit, but you were interrupted by taerae’s voice piercing the silence, “what are you doing?”
“what's it matter to you?” you snapped, managing to look at him, nostrils flaring in annoyance. he held his hands up in defense. muttering, “i’m just trying to watch out for you, y/n.”
you stepped toward him, teeth gritted and your patience with him wearing dangerously thin. you pointed to the color illuminating the sky, your words assertive, “that could be hanbin, and i’ll be damned if you stop me from going to look when you're the reason this happened in the first place. whether you come or not isn't my problem, but if you want to prove you're worthy of forgiveness, you’ll come with.”
you turned on your heels, back now facing him, and met the determined gazes of gyuvin and gunwook, who signaled they were ready to follow you back into the heart of the city.
you trudged onward, careful not to let the thudding of your boots draw attention to you, and glanced behind your back, taking note of taerae following suit. good.
it wasn't long before you made it through the entrance to the forgotten city, and you slunk against walls to keep a low profile in case a hoard of infected were still nearby. you felt your heart beating in your throat, a layer of sweat now coating your forehead in anticipation for what was to come.
another flare was lit, this time much closer to where you previously were. you dashed across the street from one alley to the next, taking note of the same dumpster that hanbin had hit before he ran on his own path. you figured following it wouldn'td hurt, and led your group onward through the maze of rubble, the stench of the flare smoke now filling your nostrils.
before you could take another step forward, gunwook grabbed your hand and pulled you back down into a crouch, his finger pressed over his lips before he pointed ahead, a bus in the distance, but a crowd of about 15 infected surrounding it. they seemed desperate to get something, and as your eyes trailed up, you realized it was someone.
hanbin.
he looked up, a wave of relief washing over his face upon seeing the four of you few yards away from him, and you fought back your tears as you made a cutthroat motion to the other theee, quietly creeping along the edge of the road, planning to sneak attack the infected.
taerae was the first to leap forward, twisting an infected’s neck with a sickening crack. its body crumpled to the ground, falling entirely lifeless within an instant, and it didn't take long for the rest of you to follow in his footsteps. you swung forward, your motions eerily similar to when you killed ricky months back, blood sputtering out from the infected and soaking through your clothes.
but this time, you didn't care. you continued your actions, the putrid smell of iron and rotting flesh violating your nose, but within a few minutes the crowd was gone, and you were surrounded by bodies on the road. you quickly entered the inside of the bus, noticing there was only a few seats left inside, and a previously made shelter from someone else having been made in the back.
taerae pulled the doors shut to prevent any other infected getting inside, visibly relaxing once he realized your group was safe for now. hanbin slipped down from the top of the bus, his hair disheveled, and exhaustion evident in his expression and body language. you moved forward to give him a hug, but he stepped back, shaking his head at you.
you felt your stomach twist in a knot, “hanbin?”
his next words were ones that would have made you fall to your knees if he wasn't standing directly in front of you, “i got bit.”
it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the small space, the entire group falling into a dreadful silence.
you blinked back tears for millionth time in the last few hours, swallowing harshly as you met your eyes with his, desperately trying to see if he was pulling some cruel joke. you laughed, “no, no that's not possible! you're fine hanbin, you don't have to pull my leg like that.”
his frown only deepened, and he took a step forward, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up to reveal a gnarly wound on the inside of his forearm, the resemblance of teeth marks deeply penetrating his skin. blood oozed from the gashes, and the flesh surrounding it appeared as though had already begun to rot away.
“what are we going to to do?” taerae asked, and you almost turned around to slap him, but somehow managed to contain yourself.
hanbin’s expression said everything you needed to know. his next sentence was quiet, and had the nobody there been completely still, you wouldn't have been able to hear it, “i’m going to have to take care of it myself, i won’t let the virus take over. i don't want to be one of them.”
“hanbin, no,” taerae said, “we can't just let you kill yourself, there has to be another way.”
“but there's not, taerae,” hanbin’s tone was gentle but firm, “there's no cure, and i won't be able to handle being one of those disgusting creatures,” a tear raced down his cheek, “i have no other choice, unless one of you do it for me, and i would never ask that of you.”
you didn't feel like yourself as the gears turned in your head, before you finally asked, “can we at least say goodbye?”
his eyes softened, and he nodded in return. you let the others go before you, gunwook and gyuvin going first, thanking him for allowing them to tag along, and always making sacrifices to make sure everyone else was taken care of.
you didn't miss the sobs shaking taerae’s body when he went, their hug the tightest one you had ever seen. “i’m so sorry” moving past his lips repeatedly, and hanbin kept reassuring him quietly. the two had a quiet conversation, hanbin’s gaze intensely staring into taerae in what you assumed was advice on how to move forward.
and then it was your turn.
your legs felt like jelly as you collapsed into his embrace, his arms sturdy and the scent of his cologne having barely lingered on his clothes as you burning your face into his chest. you could feel him breaking down, and the two of you cried more than you ever have before. he pulled back a little bit, pressing a deep, loving kiss onto your lips, and you could taste the salt of your tears mixing in between.
he looked at you, adoration in his eyes, as he whispered, “i love you, y/n.”
your bottom lip quivered, and you were barely able to get out an “i love you” in return, relishing in your final moment with him. you shifted a bit, slipping your dagger out from the inside of your sleeve. you pushed it between his ribs, hearing him softly grunt in pain, and a quiet “thank you” coming from him.
he grew weaker by the minute, and you helped him lower to the ground. laying him down on his back and settling down next to him, your hand coated with the warm bloom spilling from his body. your free hand reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. thumb moving down to collect his tears as his eyes fluttered shut and the breath left his body.
your pained weeping echoed throughout the barren wasteland around you, and you wanted so badly to turn back time, to do something differently, because if you did, he would still be alive. you'd still be searching for seattle.
but seattle wasn't real, and the boy you loved was taken from you by the very thing you hated the most.
#seokmthw#zerobaseone#zerobaseonefics#zerobaseone x reader#boys planet#boys planet fics#boys planet imagines#boys planet reactions#zb1#zb1 drabbles#zb1 scenarios#zb1 reactions#zb1 x reader#zb1 zhang hao#zb1 sung hanbin#zb1 seok matthew#zb1 ricky#zb1 park gunwook#zb1 kim taerae#zb1 kim gyuvin#zb1 kim jiwoong#zb1 han yujin#zb1 zombie au
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
IN THE DYING SUMMER SUN — BBH
PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader
SUMMARY: a weekend up at the beach house might just be enough to make you crack and come clean about your little (big, fat) crush. alternatively, park chanyeol is possibly the worst wingman ever.
GENRE: friends to lovers! au, crush! baekhyun, romance, fluff, a pinch of angst, pining, humour
WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension!!, slightly suggestive, reader and baekhyun are both kind of clueless tbh
WORD COUNT: 9.4k
NOTE: happy birthday baekhyun!! thought it would be fitting to start off this blog with a fic for bbh on his birthday. this was supposed to be a 4-5k piece of fluff but somehow it ended up being double that and a lot more serious than i originally intended (oops?). kinda nervy posting such a long fic for the first time ever so feedback is most certainly welcome and i hope you enjoy!
“You definitely rigged this.”
Chanyeol only rewarded you with a shit-eating grin.
The scrap of paper couldn’t weigh more than a few grams, but in your hands, they felt like the barbell plates at the gym that he could never leave alone. Especially since a certain someone was also holding another scrap of paper with ‘ground floor twin room’ hastily scrawled across it.
You shook your head vehemently, fixing the tall boy with a dagger-like stare that he seemed completely unfazed by. “I demand a redraw.”
“Which is not going to happen,” was his gleeful response. “We all agreed — no take-backs before picking.” The hat that you had all drawn out of, now empty, was tossed on the coffee table as everyone else began to move their bags into their freshly chosen rooms. Somewhere down the hallway, Jongin tripped over the wheels of his suitcase, his pained groan and Kyungsoo’s laughter bouncing against the walls of the AirBnb.
“Besides,” Chanyeol continued, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, “if I had actually rigged it, you should be thanking me. I’d be doing you a favour.” He gestured towards Baekhyun, who was busying himself with packing his hoodie back into his duffle bag, hopefully oblivious to the fact that the two of you were conspiring about him less than three metres away.
“Yeah, say it any louder, why don’t you. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” you warned, catching the wicked glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to make good on your request and let the whole house know, only to choke back a groan at the elbow you shoved into his side. Behave, said the glare that you shot at him. His replying smile was anything but reassuring, before he picked up his bag and headed upstairs.
That was what you got for getting a little too drunk at Jongdae’s housewarming get-together last month and accidentally slipping up about your big, fat, debilitating crush on Baekhyun after the third glass of pinot noir in one night. If it had been anyone else made aware of your juvenile secret, you would probably be feeling a little less uneasy — but it just had to be the one person who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Not to mention Park Chanyeol was a terrible wingman, having heard about the ridiculous escapades he put Jongdae through before he finally cuffed his girlfriend. Lucky for you, you were now getting to experience it first-hand.
“I can ask Jongin to swap, if you really don’t want to room with me,” came a soft voice from your right. Baekhyun regarded you with an expectant, if somewhat hesitant expression.
“No, it’s okay,” you replied, trying your best to mask the panic that was fighting its way into your voice. It would be just your luck, that he would think your reluctance to share a sleeping space with him was because you didn’t like him enough, and not that you liked him a little too much. The slight furrow in his brow seemed to melt away with your words. “I just wanted the big room with the queen bed, but somehow Chanyeol got it. I seriously think he did something to these,” you said, waving your slip of paper that matched the one he was holding.
Come to think of it, you and Baekhyun had also been the last ones to draw out of the hat, since Chanyeol had insisted on going counter-clockwise around the dining table. How he managed to game the room allocations was beyond you, but you were now almost certain that he did.
“It’s good that he’s by himself though. The snoring would drive anyone mad,” Baekhyun mused, and you had to chuckle in agreement.
“That time he passed out at my place after Saturday drinks…I genuinely thought I’d end up with a murder charge that night.” you said, chest squeezing at the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons at your words. You busied yourself with your own bag, hoping he wouldn’t see the dumb smile on your face, and be able to tell how pleased you were to have teased a laugh out of him. Laughter was not something he usually withheld — he gave it freely, if not a little too generously — but it always did a funny thing to your heart when you were the cause of it.
“Definitely can’t have that. Pretty face like yours would not last a day in jail.” With one hand around his own duffle, he draped the free one around your shoulders, letting the warmth of his arm wrap around you as you headed down the corridor to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend.
Having a crush on Baekhyun was no big deal. Probably even normal, if his college days were anything to go by. But what made it so debilitating was things like this — the little comments he’d throw around that could easily be passed off as just friendly flirting if you were so inclined, though you sometimes let yourself imagine his intentions came more from the flirting than the friendly part. He was a generally touchy person too, never missing a chance to pat Kyungsoo’s ass when the opportunity arose, but sometimes the brush of his fingers against the inside of your wrist felt a little too affectionate for two people united solely through friendship, even if you were the only one who internally crossed that line a while ago. It was things like this that made you question, every once in a while, if your feelings were as one-sided as you believed. Most of the time though, you chalked it up to his disposition, his easy-going magnetism, and concluded that whatever signals you thought he was sending were merely due to your overactive imagination running wild with hopes that he felt the same way.
“Dibs left,” he said, plopping down on the twin bed closer to the window. His arms raised above his head in a long, yawning stretch, revealing a thin strip of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Just the sight of it was enough to control your blood, sending a rush of it to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for being so weak to such a small thing. It was obvious you had been alone for way too long. He was too comfortable to notice the flush on your cheeks, eyes shut and enjoying the tension leaving his body after the long drive up.
You sat yourself down carefully on the remaining bed, noting the gap between the two mattresses. Whether you wanted to push them together or against opposite walls of the room, you couldn’t be sure. It was hard to form coherent thoughts when he turned to you with a boyish playfulness that curled the corner of his mouth upwards.
“You’re not going to sleepwalk your way into my bed, are you?” he asked, chin in his hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. You tried hard to catch yourself from choking on your own saliva.
“I’ve been known to kick in my sleep,” was your reply, voice much more nonchalant than you thought you were capable of, given that he had just planted the seed of the two of you sharing a twin mattress that was definitely not big enough to lie down on without touching in at least three different places. The glint in his eyes faded immediately, giving way to thinly-veiled concern at the threat underlying your words.
“I was kidding,” you clarified when he sat up and started to back away from you. “At least, I haven’t done that for fifteen or so years. But you never know, it might come back again tonight, when you’ve finally fallen asleep, and then BAM! Foot to the face. You better sleep with your eyes open, Byun Baekhyun,” you warned, giggling at the realisation dawning over his face before his pretty features settled into mock annoyance.
“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He was on all fours now, making his way towards you with a wolfish grin. In no time, he had crawled over the gap between your two beds and suddenly his fingers were prodding at your ribs. It was a well-planned tickle attack, and one you had no chance of escaping from, since his legs had caged you in and the rest of him was pinning you down. You were helpless against the ambush of his fingers, succumbing to them with gasping giggles, punctuated by desperate pleas for him to stop. He showed no intention of letting up, fingers digging even deeper into your waist.
If you were going to die like this, you thought, at least you’d be dying while lying under him.
“When you two are done canoodling, we’re going to go set up on the beach,” came a voice from the doorway. Baekhyun’s merciless fingers paused, and the two of you looked back to see Chanyeol’s amused face at the foot of your bed, smirking like he knew some big secret that neither of you were privy to. God, you were seriously regretting that third glass at Jongdae’s new apartment last month.
Baekhyun turned back to you, your noses almost touching, and you could feel the air from his exhales fanning against the skin of your cheek. There was a mole just above the corner of his mouth that you don’t think you had ever noticed before. Warmth from his jean-clad legs radiated into your hips and meandered up and down your spine, and suddenly the late summer air around you was becoming sticky and heavier than usual.
As if just now noticing the proximity you were in, he slowly untangled himself from your limbs, making sure not to crush you in the process. You sat up, still breathless, having just calmed down enough for full inhales again, but so was he, you noted. Surely tickling wasn’t that exertive of an activity? Or maybe you’d put up a better fight than you had thought.
“Don’t forget your towels,” was the last thing Chanyeol said before he ducked out, yelling at Jongin to grab the beach umbrellas, not the rain ones. There were a few seconds just filled with the sounds of your slowing breathing.
“I’m going to go get changed,” Baekhyun said, turning around to dig through his bag for his swim shorts. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the slight tremble in his voice that indicated he hadn’t quite recovered from whatever was afflicting him. “We’ll probably just be setting up the umbrellas, so no rush, just come down when you’re ready.” As he turned around to head towards the bathroom, he flashed you that familiar smile, the one that always resulted in one of your own to mirror his, and set you at ease again.
“And make sure you bring your sunscreen,” he added, before disappearing down the hallway. You watched him go, throwing yourself back onto the bed with a frustrated groan once you were sure he was out of earshot. Two whole days and nights in this tiny room, in the languid death of summer, with his body just an arm’s length away from yours — you had no idea how much of this you could stomach and emerge with your sanity intact.
This was shaping up to be the longest weekend ever.
The afternoon sun was unforgiving when you emerged from the house. Though you had thrown on a cover up before leaving, you could feel the heat tingling on the surface of your skin through the thin cotton. From the top of the bushy path leading down to the beach, you could already hear the tell-tale signs of a competition brewing between the boys, even if you couldn’t quite see them yet. A few steps down and you could make out their figures, managing to catch the view of Chanyeol flipping backwards off the jetty before plunging into the water, where the rest of them were bobbing around. Baekhyun’s voice floated above the others the way it always did when he was teasing, liltingly distinguishable, though perhaps that was only because you were now so attuned to it that other voices naturally started to sound more foreign.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly when he went from Baekhyun, your friend who tended to get a little too rowdy after half a can of beer, to Baekhyun, your friend who made your heart pick up a little faster when you thought of him. One day his hiccuping laugh was teetering on the edge of obnoxiousness, and then all of a sudden it became endearing to hear the raw joy in his voice. If you knew exactly when the switch flipped, maybe you’d be able to retrace your steps and stop yourself from ever setting off down this path to end up where you were now, watching the sunlight glisten against his wet face with an overwhelming affection, wondering what it would be like to be the private audience of his radiant smile everyday.
You set your things down on the sand next to the pile of clothes and towels that were already there, recognising Chanyeol’s hat somewhere in the mix. The beach umbrella that Jongin had set up was already beginning to lurch towards one side, the brim rather close to the ground. Fixing it back in place and digging it into the sand a little deeper, you let out a fond laugh — some things, like the way Jongin used his hands like they weren’t his own, would stand the test of time.
You had hoped that your friendship with Baekhyun would be one of those things, but the more time you spent casting longing glances his way when he wasn’t looking, the more you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from his rejection if you ever did decide to be honest about your feelings towards him. So you did your best to bury them, content to enjoy his company in the way you were both familiar with, afraid that if they did surface, they’d taint your friendship with something unpleasant and irreversible. If you couldn’t own the sun, at least you could still revel in its warmth.
Satisfied with the position of your towel underneath the shade of the umbrella, you looked back at the water, returning Baekhyun’s sweeping wave with a small one of your own. It was just enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to turn around as well, and Baekhyun seized the opportunity to dunk him, gleefully howling as the taller boy’s head disappeared below the waves. Before Chanyeol could resurface and enact his retaliation, Baekhyun was already making his escape, swimming towards the shore with fearful determination. Chanyeol made to follow, but upon seeing you sitting on the beach with your eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s approaching figure, he thought better of it, turning back around to continue the diving evaluation as Jongin took his turn to leap off the jetty.
With an amused smile, you watched as Baekhyun hurried out of the ocean, wet hair flying in all directions and flicking droplets of seawater across the sand. The water trickled down the planes of his bare torso, and you tried to keep your eyes away from the firmness of his pec, or the flexing movements of his abdominals as he made his way over to you. One thing was for sure — the gym sessions with Chanyeol were paying off.
When he finally reached you, Baekhyun slumped onto your towel, ignoring your protests for him to stay away, and proceeded to soak you in the remaining water that was still clinging to his body. The skin of his stomach was cool against your calf, and he giggled delightfully at your attempts to push him off to avoid getting more water onto your clothes.
“Stop trying to fight it, you’re going to get wet when you go in anyway,” he said, finally rolling off you.
“I wasn’t planning on going in. I’m scared you’ll try to drown me,” you huffed, lightly flicking some sand onto his shoulder with your toe. He turned back around, chin cradled in his left hand, and flashed you a boyish smile.
“I would never do that,” he said, though the glint in his eyes was anything but convincing. “Besides, what are you going to do at the beach if you’re not getting in the water?”
You picked up the book nestled in between your shoes and waved it at him. “Read, of course.” He regarded the worn paperback with amused disbelief, eyebrows slightly raised. It was only when you flipped the book open to the paperclip you’d been using as a bookmark that he realised you were serious, and let out a scoff that was laced with something akin to fondness.
“You are such a cliche. Pretty girl reading at the beach? Unbelievable, seriously,” he said, before wriggling his head into your stomach, relishing in your shocked squeals as your cover up began to dampen again. His mischief had left a few wet patches on the fabric that were beginning to stick to your body in the uncomfortable fashion of late summer. You reached for the hem, pulling it off not without some struggle, and immediately felt the sun kissing against your bare shoulders. Though you were mostly covered by the shade from the umbrella, the last thing you wanted was a blistering sunburn where the straps of your tote bag usually rested, so you grabbed the sunscreen you had so diligently packed and began applying it on the parts of your skin that were exposed.
Baekhyun had gone uncharacteristically quiet. If you had been paying attention to him instead of so attentively rubbing the cream into the underside of your knee, perhaps you would have noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than would have been polite. They followed the path your hands took, from the expanse of skin below your neck, across your stomach, and down the length of your legs.
“Do you want me to do your back?” he blurted, his voice a little more strained than usual. He was wearing an odd expression on his face, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was different from the usual playful one you were most well acquainted with. Nevertheless, you agreed, passing him the tube and turning around so your back was facing him.
His fingers were still cold from the water, and you jumped when they first made contact with your skin. He only laughed, squeezing both hands around your shoulders to hold you still before he got back to work again.
The first graze of his hands across your shoulders was tentative. You could feel the heat of him behind your back, the smell of salt and sun clinging to the air around you. His breaths fanned the skin on the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs despite the thick heat of the afternoon. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Slowly, his hands made their way down to your lower back, and it was then that you realised you might be in trouble. His hands pressed against the grooves of your spine, curving ever so slightly around your waist, and if you shivered, he pretended not to feel you tremble in his grasp.
It was when his fingers slipped underneath the ties of your bikini top that the alarm bells began to go off in your head. His movements were hesitant, fingers stuttering in their dance across your skin before they gingerly pulled the strings aside to spread the sunscreen between the top and bottom halves of your back. It was too much, feeling his warmth, knowing there was only an inch of space between your bare torsos, having his hands on you doing such a thorough job with the task he had assigned to himself. When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of your ribs, just under the edge of the fabric, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that escaped your lips.
“Actually, I think I left something back at the house,” you said suddenly, words hurriedly running into each other as they tripped over your tongue on the way out of your mouth. Twisting away from his dangerous touch, you bolted to a stand and hoped he’d attribute the pinkness of your cheeks to being outside in the brightness of the afternoon. Your words came out staggered, the slight tremble in your voice betraying the composure you were fighting so hard to maintain.
Baekhyun’s gaze was careful, if not a little confused. The more his eyes ran over you, the more you were sure that the depth of your feelings towards him were beginning to surface on your face. Another second and he’d be able to tell, he’d figure out the little secret you’d been trying to conceal for the last couple of months. And then you wouldn’t be able to deny its existence anymore.
So you fled, tossing a rushed promise to be right back over your shoulder before scurrying up the bushy path again. Away from the scrutiny of his eyes, away from the truth you did not want revealed to the world. The ghost of his touch lingered between your shoulder blades and along the ridges of your spine, your body already committing to memory the caress of his skin against yours. You realised then, that it would not be possible to continue living on as usual, now that you knew the taste of his closeness, as fleeting as it may have been.
“I think you should just go for it.”
Your fingers tightened around the glass at his words. Chanyeol’s tone was light and pragmatic, speaking as if the act of unfurling your heart were nothing more than a decision about whether to have steak or pork belly for dinner.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed, bringing the bottle to your lips.
“I’m serious though,” he continued, nudging your arm with the lip of his own beer. “I think you should just tell him, and see what he says. And stop expecting the worst. You’ll never know how things could turn out if you never do anything.”
You let your head fall back to lean on the doorframe you were both standing against, gazing out at the patio that had begun to darken following the sunset. Baekhyun and Jongin were placed at opposite ends of the ping pong table that had been wheeled out of the living room after dinner, neither seeming to mind the soft prick of grass at the underside of their bare feet. Whether the game was proceeding well was difficult to deduce, since both were sporting wide grins and rosy cheeks, courtesy of the glasses in their hands — but judging by the cluster of orange balls around Baekhyun’s feet, you had an inkling that victory would not be his. He didn’t seem to mind yet, laughing gleefully as Jongin swung his racquet too hard and launched a ball over the fence.
“Not everyone is as good as you when it comes to talking about their feelings, you know,” you said, fixing Chanyeol with a knowing look that was halfway between admiration and resentment. If you only had his courage of expression, perhaps you would’ve put an end to your suffering a while ago. Ripped the band-aid off cleanly instead of peeling away at it, day by day, bit by bit, until it was hanging on by the last of its adhesive. You weren’t sure how much longer your resolve could last, if it would even survive this weekend without snapping under the force of your attraction.
He only shrugged. “You can’t get good without actually doing it.” You pondered his words in the short silence that settled while you both took another sip. He was right, of course, you knew that, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.
“I think… I’m just scared,” you began slowly. Realising you were about to put his advice into action, Chanyeol turned to you with reassuring and patient eyes, waiting. You took a deep breath, swinging the contents of your bottle back and forth, and continued, “I’m scared that if I do tell him, it’s going to change our relationship and then I’ll lose him completely. At least if I don’t say anything, he’s still my friend, and I get to keep being in his life.”
He regarded you for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he decided on his next words. It was no easy feat to try on honesty the way you just did, having so carefully avoided it for your entire life, and he was well aware of it. The slight tremble in your hands was a dead giveaway.
“And I think that’s completely understandable,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be a trade-off, no matter what you choose to do. But I guess you have to weigh up which one means more to you, and if you’re willing to take that risk on the chance that it does work out between you two. I’m only telling you what I think you should do. You’re the one who knows your own feelings the best.”
Another silence fell over the two of you again. Your bottle was nearly empty now, the beer inside already lukewarm from being out of the cooler for too long. Jongin let out a cheer as the ball sailed over his head, landing far behind him on the grass and ignoring Baekhyun’s flagrant attempts at contesting the point. Even under the patio lights, he was still so pretty, cheeks pink and glowy, the shape of his mouth so endearing as it settled into a pout. By now, you were used to the longing, and paid it no mind as it filled your chest with a bittersweet warmth.
“Aren’t you two best friends though?” you asked, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about how he feels about… whatever is going on?” The look you gave Chanyeol was suspicious, but he stood strong, resisting your prying eyes.
“I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I went around blabbing to you about his feelings, would I?” was his response, accompanied by an elusive smile. There was something in his words that lingered in your mind, some important detail you felt as if you had overlooked, but his amused expression gave you nothing to hold onto. “You’re both so clueless,” he chuckled after a beat of your thoughtful silence, downing the rest of his drink.
Baekhyun was skipping over now, having officially lost 18-21 to Jongin, who was heartily celebrating his victory with a series of hoots and giggles. He headed straight for you, hair all messed up from running his hands through it during the game, and a rosy flush to his face, though you weren’t sure if that was from the game or the glass that he had left at the ping pong table. When he wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your shoulder, you knew that it was probably the latter.
“I lost the game,” he whined, petulant and firm against you. His hair tickled your chin, and you could smell the faint scent of his shampoo from his shower after the beach.
“Are you drunk already?” you asked, trying to mask your breathlessness at his proximity with a few giggles. Baekhyun’s affinity for physical contact was the worst — or best, depending on how you looked at it — when he had alcohol in his system, and it didn’t take much to push him past the borders of sobriety. His ache for touch and affection was most often relieved on you, and you always obliged, gladly and readily letting him take whatever it was he wanted.
The tip of his nose brushed back and forth against your skin as he shook his head. “Just a little, tiny bit,” he said, voice muffled, and you felt the warmth of his breath through your t-shirt.
“Where’s the love for your best friend?” Chanyeol teased, the only one amused at the way Baekhyun had dived straight into your arms without even sparing him a glance.
The boy in your arms didn’t even falter, only snuggling further into you. “You know it’s because she’s my favourite,” he murmured, lips skimming your collarbone ever so softly as he spoke. The panic onset was instantaneous, and you prayed he was too drunk to pick up on the sudden rapid thundering of your heartbeat inside your chest. You tried to look at Chanyeol for help, but he was setting off across the patio, taking up Jongin on his invitation for a match with the promise that he would wipe the floor with the younger boy.
Baekhyun only hummed contentedly, oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking inside you, tightening his hold around you when you made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of his arms. His pink lips set into another rounded pout, brows slightly creased as he pulled back to look at you.
“You know you’re my favourite, right?” he asked, trying to be convincing despite the slight slur to his words. You could only nod, letting a small smile twist the corners of your mouth upwards. Whether he realised or meant what he was saying, you weren’t all that concerned, simply happy to bask in the warmth of his full attention knowing it was probably just nonsensical babble brought on by the drink in his belly. It was so much easier to be close to him when he was like this, hazier, and sure to forget most of what he had said the morning afterwards. It didn’t hurt that you were also starting to feel a little blurrier around the edges, the beer from earlier making its way through your system and leaving behind a pleasant fuzziness that made it all the more tempting to come clean about your feelings. But you weren’t quite there yet, and you had no plans to get to that point tonight.
Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he curled back up into you. With your hands around his back, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfortingly even beat of it through his rib cage. It was so easy to imagine this was the way it had always been, and would always be, so easy to slip into the fairytale you often found yourself fabricating when your one-sided longing became too much to contain. It would be so nice if you could live in this moment forever, you thought. But was this small pocket of peace worth risking your entire friendship?
“I wish you’d stop running away from me,” he murmured, or at least that’s what you thought he said. It was a little difficult to concentrate when his lips were grazing your skin again, lightly feathering across your neck as the words shaped his mouth on their way out of it.
And then you felt it, the unmistakable and deliberate press of his lips against your collarbone, the gentle pressure and the slight moisture on your skin from it searing through you like a lit trail of gasoline. This time, he had to have heard the stilted gasp that escaped your mouth.
He lifted his head slowly to look at you again, searching your face with glassy eyes — for what, you weren’t quite sure. The only things you were sure of right now were the fiery burn in your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your heart that echoed between your ears.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, though his expression was nowhere near as apologetic as his words would have you believe. If anything, his gaze on you was almost daring, waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d shrink back into yourself like you always did when he got too close and crossed that invisible boundary you only danced around. If you’d run away from him the way he had just said he wished you wouldn’t. Or if you’d let him push you over too, just this once.
Seeing the hesitation in your face, he slowly extricated from you, retracting his limbs and warmth until they hung limply by his sides again. Scratched the back of his head. Let his eyes wander around the patio and settle on anything except for you.
“I’m going to see if Kyungsoo needs any help with cleaning up,” he said quietly, not waiting for your response as he headed back into the house. The drink had made his gait unsteady, and you felt him sway against the doorframe as he brushed past you. A chilling unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you watched him go, the shape of his back getting smaller and smaller as he was swallowed by the light of the living room.
Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and that there was a possibility it had not been in the direction you had hoped for.
Perhaps the second glass of wine had been a little overambitious, you realised, staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Kyungsoo had been so excited about the 2012 Shiraz he had brought from home, pouring you a full glass with an enthusiasm he didn’t often display. You couldn’t say no, and you didn’t protest when he refilled it a short while later. If he noticed the faster-than-usual speed with which you drained its contents, he did not show it. Whilst alcohol tended to put people to sleep, it had the opposite effect on you, dangling sleep in front of you like a carrot you could never get a hold of easily, or for long. That second glass of wine was the reason you were lying in bed, not soundly asleep like you wished, but keenly aware of every breath and every movement from the other occupant of the room, only an arm’s length away from you.
Baekhyun had spent most of the night with Chanyeol out on the patio, drinking and laughing under the generous light of the moon. Even if he wasn’t purposely avoiding you, you felt his absence from your side sorely. He didn’t say much during the wind down for bed either, only asking if you wanted the curtains fully shut, to which you gave an affirmative. Still, a sliver of moonlight speared through the gap between them, illuminating the room just enough that if you turned your head to the side, you could make out the outline of his body beneath the covers and acquaint yourself with the familiar curve of his nose.
It was only fair that the wine, having taken your sleep, offered something in return to mark an honourable trade. That something manifested itself in the restlessness of your mouth, which battled against the remaining rationality of your mind. Loose-lipped and anxious, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the war inside your head to approach a ceasefire. You did not want to make a fool of yourself in the intimacy of this small room.
However, your resolve could not last for long, corroded by the hours spent without his presence, without the familiar warmth of his touch, without his little comments meant only for you as he pointed out something silly or poked fun at Jongin’s whining. Barely above a whisper, you called out his name, letting your voice permeate the darkness. It was loud enough that he’d hear it above the silence, but soft enough that he could ignore it if he so wished, and you’d attribute his ignorance to the deepness of sleep.
There was a second of silence, which he followed with an answering hum and a shuffle of his legs on the mattress. He was awake, and he was waiting for you to speak.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked the ceiling.
“No, I’m not mad at you,” was his reply, accompanied by a quiet sigh. He was conversing with the ceiling too, just as reluctant to face you.
Your hands twisted the sheets in dissatisfaction. The even tone of his voice indicated truth, but his answer didn’t explain why he had spent the whole night outside without calling for you even once, when he usually couldn’t last half an hour without pressing into your side and tickling your shoulder to grab your attention.
“Then what?” you probed, cringing at the whiny edge to your voice.
He was quiet for a while, letting your words hang in the air, that for a moment you thought he wouldn’t speak, that your brief conversation had already come to an end, and you’d be left with unanswered questions as bedside companions for the night. There was another rustling from his side of the room as he settled himself under the covers.
“Sometimes, I think I want too much from you,” he finally said. He was quiet, but you heard every word with the clarity as if they had been projected through a stereo system. “And you can’t give me everything I want, but that’s not your fault. It’s an indication of my own greed and selfishness more than anything else.”
You kicked around at your sheets to signal your unrest at his words. “I don’t think you are greedy or selfish. At all. At least not with me.” If anything, you were the selfish one, wanting all his smiles and touches for yourself, wanting the entire spectrum of his existence to only ever be shown to you. Your generosity only ever came to light when it was in service of him, gladly letting him take your attention, your time, allocating space in your mind for him and him only.
Baekhyun only laughed a soft and short laugh at your reply, the sound so different from the usual one filled with boisterous joy that you had grown the most used to. You heard him turn over in his bed to face you. In the quiet darkness of the room, the focus of his gaze flooded over you, and the intensity of it was so blinding you didn’t dare to look away from the smoothness of the ceiling, fearing you’d smoulder into ash the moment you locked eyes with him.
“You know that you are a really important person to me. You know that, right?” he asked, eyes searing into you with the force of a thousand suns. “I mean, everyone else is also important because they’re my friends, but you’re different — you are a special person to me. I don’t see you the way I see Chanyeol, or Jongin, or anyone else.”
His words were still tinged with the slight slur of the beer from out on the patio, but you could feel the delicate care with which they were chosen and spoken. Something was different about tonight. You could taste it in the thick air between the two of you, feel it in the wire-taut tension stretching across the gap between your two twin beds. Your fingers dug into the comforter, willing the turbulence in your chest to subside.
He paused and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself against something devastating. “I don’t want the same things with them as I do with you.”
You held your breath until you felt the pain of deprivation in your chest.
“But I’ve made peace with the fact that what I want from you, and the way I feel about you, are things I’ll have to carry with me. They’re things I have to bear the weight of alone. I don’t — I would never want you to be uncomfortable, or see me differently.” There was a slight catch in his voice at the end.
You didn’t even know if your lungs were still working while you listened to him speak. There was a surrealness to the night, as if everything had been covered in a blanket of haze and everything that was transpiring was the product of a fever-induced dream, existing on an alternate timeline.
Baekhyun… it didn’t even feel right thinking it.
Baekhyun had feelings for you? And he had convinced himself it was one-sided?
“It’s pretty selfish, isn’t it? Asking you to act like things between us won’t change after everything I just said,” he laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. You finally turned your head to look at him, the wry curve of his mouth catching the moonlight as he gazed at you. He was smiling, the shape of it meant to comfort you, but he could not hide the sadness weaved into the downturn of his eyes. He had always been braver than you, perhaps not in the aspect of riding roller-coasters, but certainly in his ability to be honest and open about his emotions, regardless of whether they were good or bad.
It was your turn to be brave now, and shed your own fear to meet him where he stood.
“I’ve been seeing you differently for a while now,” you admitted, turning under the sheets to fully face him. You were grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would conceal the heat creeping up your neck and face, painting your cheeks with a hot blush that accompanied the start of your confession. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, confusion settling in the crease between them. You held yourself back from reaching out to smooth them over.
“What do you mean?”
“What makes you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” you asked instead, leaving his question unanswered. There was a tremble in your voice as you spoke, and you were sure he heard it above the quiet of your bedroom. It was the closest you could get to telling him without actually telling him about the silent battle that had been raging in your head for the last few months.
This was it, you thought. He had to know now.
“Am I not?”
The weight of his stare pressed against you, drawing you to him with the tangible pull of gravity. The eyes that roamed your face had replaced their previous confusion with questioning, and a glimmer of something akin to hope. He had never looked more beautiful and devastating than he did right now. You felt the light of dawn breaking over your skin, a promise of something new and good sure to follow. Its warmth simmered within you, staving off the chill of the late summer night with a heat that had you pushing off your covers in a hurried frenzy and rising to sit on the edge of your bed, toes just grazing the floorboards beneath you. Would you still have had the same nerve to face him in the daylight, rough and exposed without the lulling comfort of darkness? Would he still look at you, unpolished and flawed in the clarity of the sun, the same way, with the reverence of man at the sight of an angel?
Baekhyun mirrored you and sat up on his own bed, slowly, as if not wanting to spook you, fearing you’d run off and retreat back into the confined familiarity of your own head. His knees knocked against yours in the small space between your two mattresses. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours, having gone without it for so long that the mere touch was like the first drop of water after emerging from the desert. He made to move away, trying to shuffle across the length of the bed, but stilled at the hand you placed just over his knee, willing him to stay put. Surely, he could feel the beat of your heart thrumming through your fingertips.
It was your turn to be brave now.
Fueled by the second glass of Shiraz and the muted encouragement of darkness, before you could second guess yourself and overthink every possible negative outcome of what you were about to do, you closed your eyes and leant towards him. Slowly, inch by inch, until your journey ended with the soft, tentative press of your lips against his. It was short and chaste, nothing more than a gentle pressure, and you pulled back when you felt his lips part in surprise.
“Does that answer your question?” you whispered, heart in your throat.
There it was. You had gone and done it.
His eyes were closed, and in the dim moonlight peeking through the curtain, you could almost make out each of his eyelashes, fluttering dark and soft against the smooth skin of his cheek. For a few seconds, the room was filled only with the sounds of your breathing as you waited for his reaction, for the consequences of your actions and what that meant for your friendship with him.
Then you heard it — his soft laugh, coloured with appreciative disbelief, and felt the air of it caress your face. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a small, pleased smile. His eyes blinked open slowly, taking you in with a hunger that had desire curling in the pit of your stomach.
“You are just so…” he began, but you never found out just exactly what you were. He was already pulling you back into him, slotting his mouth against yours like they were always made to fit perfectly together. This time, the kiss was anything but chaste, the sheer force of it enough to scorch your insides down to your bones. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush towards him, and your knees parted around his thighs to adjust to the new position. Your own hands found purchase in the softness of the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, in fear that the realisation of this moment would somehow make it slip away.
This was what it felt like to stand unafraid and bare in the light of unbridled wanting, to consume and be consumed by a ravenous appetite with no propensity for satiety. When his hands slipped past the hem of your sleep tank, fingertips grazing across the skin of your lower back, you were sure you could erupt into flames. He swallowed the breathy noise that escaped your lips, tongue brushing against yours as he claimed your mouth with his own.
This was what it felt like to hold the sun in the palm of your hand.
When you broke apart to catch your breaths, his eyes were bright, lips plump and swollen, chest heaving beneath your hands. Somehow, you had ended up back on his bed, his head against the pillows, hands under your shirt and keeping you close to him with an unforgiving hold. He was gazing up at you with a devotion that made your heart swell even more than it did pulling oxygen back into your lungs.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” he admitted, hiding his head into the crook of your shoulder. You felt his abashed smile against your skin and wondered how it could be possible that you had contained all of this, the longing, the yearning, inside you for so long.
“How long?” you asked, hearing the smile in your own voice.
“Since Chanyeol’s birthday, when you wore that brown sweater with the little bow on the back.”
Last year, Chanyeol had gotten everyone together at his place for a nice dinner and wine followed by a binge watch of all the Iron Man movies in one sitting. It was all going according to plan until a quarter of the way into the third one, when he began snoring at his own birthday gathering. The bowl of popcorn was sliding out of his hands and sure to make a buttery mess all over the rug, and that’s when the rest of you decided to turn the television off and call it a night. Sehun and Jongin tasked themselves with getting the birthday boy into bed, and likely collapsed onto it with him immediately after, while Baekhyun had offered you the couch, assuring you he’d be fine with the blankets on the floor. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. As chaotic as he could be, Baekhyun was nothing if not kind, and you had been grateful that his kindness had always extended to you over the three years you had known each other.
“But that was more than half a year ago. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
His fingers prodded into your sides, eliciting a few choked giggles from you. “I didn’t know how you’d react. You know you’re not the most expressive person on the planet,” he said dryly. “Or the most observant. I literally frenched your collarbone and you’re telling me you didn’t realise I liked you more than as a friend?”
“Okay, well when you put it like that,” you huffed, feeling the vibrations of his laugh through his chest. “But you really didn’t know I had feelings for you? Chanyeol never said anything?”
His movements stilled, leaning back into the pillows so he could lock eyes with you again. “You talk to Chanyeol about me?” he asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. “Since when?”
“Last month, Jongdae’s housewarming. He fished it out of me after dinner,” you sighed, picturing his smug grin under the lights of Jongdae’s fancy new kitchen when you realised that you had slipped up and let him in on your little secret.
“But I talk to him about you.”
You looked at each other for another beat, realisation breaking over the both of you, before dissolving into another fit of disbelieving giggles. Maybe Park Chanyeol did know how to keep his mouth shut after all.
“So he’s a terrible wingman, is what I’m getting out of this whole thing,” Baekhyun chuckled, rolling you over so you were now lying on your side, face to face with him. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, taking his time to acquaint himself with the shape and taste of your mouth, and you felt the contentment of his smile against you. “I can’t believe we could have gotten together a month ago. Some best friend he is.”
“Gotten together?” you echoed, one eyebrow raised in feigned dispute, delighting in the way his sweet mouth settled into the pout that you adored.
“You mean to tell me that you don’t want to be with me after your tongue was all up in my mouth?”
You pushed his face away, groaning, “Gross, don’t say it like that.” He, however, had different plans, hooking a calf behind your knees and tugging you back into him, before weaving the other leg in between your own.
“You know you like it,” he murmured into your neck, squeezing his arms around you just in case you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. One hand traced absent-minded circles over the grooves of your spine as he breathed you in, warm and familiar against your chest.
Yes, you thought, you’d risk any and everything for this exact moment. It was worth all the doubt and heartache, all the time spent replaying those moments in your head, unsure of the meaning behind his actions. You could be sure of it now.
“I do,” you agreed, threading your fingers through the softness of his hair. “I probably more than like you,” you added, tilting his face upwards to steal another kiss, giddy and chest swelling with affection. Perhaps you weren’t quite yet ready for that other four letter word, but you had no doubt you would be one day, and soon. He was all too willing to comply, letting his mouth mould against yours with the poise and patience of a saint.
“I probably more than like you too,” he replied, punctuating his confession with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. It was enough for the serene smile on your face to persist, even past the arrival of sleep.
“I knew it.”
You cracked one eye open, trying to adjust to the light flooding in through the open door to your room. Chanyeol stood at the foot of your bed, grinning from ear to ear with what could only be described as a look of triumph as he took in the scene before him. The boy next to you stirred lightly, digging his face deeper into the pillow, reluctant to leave the realm of the sleeping. Chanyeol was not in the least sympathetic to his friend’s struggles, striding over to the window and pulling back the curtains with a clang. You winced as the full force of the morning sun barged in, and Baekhyun let out a soft noise of displeasure at the intrusion.
“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol said again, quickly bringing you to your senses as you registered the weight of another body on top of your own. You made to remove yourself from him, fighting the flush creeping up your neck and face, but it was an effort which proved futile as he only tightened the arm around your waist, loath to let you go.
“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake the whole house,” you hushed, finally succeeding in untangling your legs from Baekhyun’s, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.
“They’re already up. I came to call you for breakfast,” Chanyeol replied, the grin seemingly stuck to his face. “Which actually reminds me,” he began, before sticking his head out of the doorway to holler, “You better pay up, Jongin. And you too, Kyungsoo!”
“You bet on us?” came the groggy voice from the pillows behind you.
“What the hell, Chanyeol? I thought you said you didn’t go around blabbing about his feelings!” you exclaimed, indignant.
“To you. I never said anything about telling anyone else,” was his reply, smug and victorious at having outsmarted you.
Kyungsoo appeared in the doorway, donning a flour-covered apron, as if to confirm for himself that he was in fact a debtor to the taller boy. “Even if he didn’t say anything, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said lightly, surveying the room with curiosity and paying no mind to the shock painted on your face. How had everybody known about your now not-so-secret crush on Baekhyun except for the man himself? “Anyways, I only said that it would be unlikely to happen over this weekend, not that it was impossible. So Jongin is the only loser. Now come for pancakes.” And with that, he headed back towards his bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, chuckling at the sound of Jongin’s complaints against fulfilling his end of the wager.
Baekhyun, having somewhat freed himself from the clutches of sleep, rose to a sitting position and shot a drowsy scowl at his friend. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”
But even the expletive could not put a damper on Chanyeol’s mood, his smile never slipping. “You two should honestly be thanking me,” he said, to which you also shot him a glare. “Also, I’m happy for you and everything, but can you please keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the rest of us? I will lock you out of the house if you don’t.”
Baekhyun turned to you, the creases of the frown on his face slowly but surely smoothing out as he took you in, cheeks puffy and hair a mess from having just woken up. He had seen you in worse states, and definitely in better states, but none of that seemed to matter as he regarded you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. You were sure that your expression mirrored his, affection spreading throughout your entire body, reaching even the tips of your fingers and toes, at the sight of his tousled bed head, the sleepy droop of his eyes, the sweet pinkness of his lips.
The sun was yours. There was no feasible way to stop the smile from blooming across your entire face.
“No promises.”
#baekhyun#exo baekhyun#byun baekhyun#baekhyun x reader#exo x reader#baekhyun fanfic#baekhyun fluff#baekhyun au#exo au#exo fluff#kaleidohscopic works baekhyun
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hellooooo I hope u are doing well !! I found ur blog a couple weeks ago I love ur posts😙
I was wondering what it would be like for Y/N and Naoya going thru their first baby's pregnancy. I think it's cute how for the first child they have to get used to mood swings, cravings, baby shopping and all those couple stuff haha. But of course only if u want to !!
Hello!!
Aww, thank you so much!! Welcome to the club, we have only naoya. Enjoy your stay 😏
I'm sorry it took me a while to get back to you, I was quite overwhelmed by other requests, I still am lol, but I manage to write a little something I hope you like!
I kind of went through all of those things, but I do feel like writing more about y/n's first pregnancy with Naoya :> there's just so much agnjakshgjakshgjaghjia
Anyways, here are the warnings: fluff. you're pregnant with your first baby. naoya is super happy. indulgent. you know hehe. but maybe a tiny bit of angst at the end.
happy reading!!
Their first pregnancy would have to be the most special, loving, adorable, spoiled moment of their life!!!
Not to say that the others weren't, but this was the first time… experiencing everything, you know? So obviously, they couldn’t just sit back and not enjoy this moment to the fullest, taking it to the extreme, as they always did.
It is for granted that whatever Naoya does it will always be to please you; whatever request, no matter how big or small, he is at your command and you should take advantage of that, as he’d frequently insist.
Starting with your cravings, not that he didn’t do that before, but now he’s just a bit more cautious, taking an extra step just to be sure.
“Honey, I think I want something—”
“Sweet, sour? Or spicy perhaps? Maybe a combination of all? I got all kinds of snack for you to choose from, but if that doesn’t work, I can go out and get —”
“I haven't said anything yet, Naoya!” You chuckle. “I think I just want something sweet, that's all.”
“Chocolate? Cake? Cookies? Gummies? Ice cream? Mochi?” He goes on, and you remain silent, thinking…
“...maybe a bit of everything?” you pout. “And perhaps something else too…”
“And something else too.” he repeats with a smirk before placing his hand over your belly. “Sounds like a plan for my princesses’”
“Stop saying that, it sounds like you already know their gender!”
“I don’t, I promise.” Naoya kisses your cheek. “I’m just guessing, that’s all.”
“Well, if our baby ends up being a girl I’ll take it as if you did know, and I’ll be very angry with you…” you frown, he chuckles.
“Hopefully not too angry to eat.” Obviously, you don’t mean any of those words as seen in the way you quickly hug him, pressing kisses across his face as you declare that regardless of the baby’s gender, you’re very happy to be forming a family with him, as well as how eager you were to finally welcome your little dumpling in your arms.
Followed by dates, outings, or however you want to call them: those are definitely Naoya's favorite of all.
From making the most of the little time he has with you between missions and clan responsibilities, to wanting to show off how happy he can make the future mother of his children, once again there is no doubt that whatever you set your eyes on, it's yours, no questions asked—clothes, furniture, food, pastimes, anything; don't worry your pretty little head about anything, he’ll make it work.
“Oh, that crib is so cute…” you’d say once stopping before a furniture store, the two strolling around the mall right after getting ice cream from that one place you wanted to try out for the longest, but haven’t been able to due to Naoya’s… unwanted commitments.
Your hand is tightly holding his because of that, almost as if you were afraid of letting go and losing him. Moments like this make you all warm, keeping them close to your heart.
“...But we already have one.”
“And who said we couldn't have two?” Naoya responds, more than ready to step into the store and buy the crib—he doesn’t care if the bedroom is fully decorated at that point, you want it, you’ll have it.
“No, Naoya! We can't take it!” You’d tug at his arm immediately after. “We can't just have two cribs because we want to!”
“Who says so?” He raises an eyebrow. “If anything, it’s only necessary—the estate is too big to just have one bedroom; I can’t have you walking from one edge to the other just to put our dumpling to bed, nor will I allow it.”
“Don’t be silly… that’s not even a real issue…”
…
…
…
“... but if we get another, does that mean we’ll have more rooms to decorate?”
“Naturally.”Naoya smiles.
“Oooh, then can we get that other crib as well?” you cheer, gesturing at the one right beside it. “I’ve been wanting to do something with yellow, I feel like it could fit in nicely! I got so many ideas too, aahh I can’t wait to show you!!”
The Zen’in and your family would eventually come to think that maybe Naoya’s bottomless spending when it comes to doting you, as well as your willingness to enable his behavior might not be the best approach…
But unfortunately, your husband doesn’t care, quickly shutting down any unrequited comments before they came your way, focusing instead on nurturing the happy, safe family he always dreamed of having with you.
If you wanted to have matching outfits for you and the baby every day, then Naoya would take you to every store necessary, indifferent if it was on the other side of the country, or give you his credit card to order online, all depending on your mood, since pregnancy made you far more exhausted, as expected.
Which of course, Naoya was dutifully prepared for, showing how serious he was in preserving your wellbeing by arranging weekly, if not daily spa days for you to simply relax and unwind, only the best masseurs were allowed to tend to his wife—the slightest mistake would be met by his reproach, which thankfully rarely occurred since he mostly liked to be involved himself (jealous, perhaps?)
Your absolutely favorite moment had to be when he stood behind you, placing his hands just beneath your belly to relieve pressure from the baby by carefully lifting it, a gesture that while simple, made you just about the happiest woman in the world.
As well as the most miserable when he had to stop.
“You’re the worst husband!” you’d cry, pouting as he eventually retreated. Naoya tries his best to not laugh at the adorable way you complained, but he could only do so much when it came to you. “Why would you even do that if you’re going to leave?”
“I didn’t mean to, princess. But I gotta do things too, you know?”
“...Like what?” You frown. “What could possibly be more important than me??”
“Nothing, ever.” He smiles, carefully wrapping his arms around you and resting them over your stomach. “But you do know you can go to the bedroom to rest, right? You don't have to worry about any duties or such, our baby comes first. And if anyone dares bother you, just let me know—they’ll get what’s coming to them…”
“... I know, I know, but… I just wanted to be with you the most I could before you left.” you eventually admit, looking up to him with those teary, round eyes that always made him putty. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”
Naoya feels his heart clench with regret, sorrowful when reminded of the truth.
“Yes, I have a mission.”
“Why do you even go on so many missions?” you protest. “I mean, I get it but—but you’ve been working so much this year, and we’re expecting a baby too! Shouldn’t you… shouldn't you have some time for your family as well? You deserve it—I deserve it!”
“Yes, I do. And you’re not the only one that thinks that, but as the heir and sorcerer, I also have—”
“It’s almost like you’re married to them, and not me.” you frown, looking away; he doesn’t need to hear more to know that you’re very upset (and even then, that might be an underestimation) by his frequent absence, but also, perhaps mainly, anxious for the arrival of the baby.
It was only natural that you’d feel that way, after all, your little dumpling was set to come in just a few weeks, introducing you to the last, most crucial moments of your pregnancy.
The doctors asked you to be cautious, reduce stress to the bare minimum and continue having a healthy routine, but that was always easier said than done, and though you’ve done your best thanks to the constant comfort and reassurance of those you loved, such as your family…
They could never compare your husband, whom you only missed more and more with each passing day as he was forced to undergo missions after missions, after missions.
You might not lack anything at home, and was greatly appreciative of it too, but all the things in the world could never replace his company, no matter how much you tried to tell yourself otherwise.
And thus, he takes one of the many decisions that not only proves his commitment to you, but the depth of his feelings, how excited he was for this new stage in his life, setting an example to his future as a husband and father.
“I'll stay home from now on.” Naoya promises, taking you in his arms and kissing the top of your head, before gently cupping your face, swiping away the tears on your cheeks and sealing his words with another kiss on your lips. “I'll arrange someone to take my missions, I won't leave you alone, I swear.”
The two couldn’t care less if the whole world was against both, as long as you had each other, everything would be alright.
Exactly what he intended to do, from the very moment his heart became yours, he vowed to do whatever it took to be by your side whenever you needed him, in the good and in the bad, for better or for worse…
Until one day, unfortunately, he couldn't.
hahaha well I decided to connect this one thing with another thing I have planned in the future... detailing more of naomi's relationship with her dad and y/n's second pregnancy...
BUT ANYWAYS I WANT TO GO INTO MORE DETAIL WITH THE SHOPPING PART IT'S SOOOO CCCUUUUUUTTTTTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Also Naoya is like super detached (acts like it, he's not) when it comes to your decisions about getting stuff for Naomi, but if you buy matching outfits for the two he will die of cuteness. Test it. :) he loves it.
Well, I hope you liked this little something!!! Omg keep them coming I love domestic stuff between our two lovebirds 🥺especially when y/n is still pregnant hehe Naoya becomes an even more overprotective man aghjkahsjgasghasjgk or when Naomi is eventually born..........................
ugh thank you so much for sending this!!! I LOVED WRITING IT if there's anything else you want me to write be sure to let me know!!!! 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️
Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!!
#ask#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thinking about step 9 and the whole concept of forgiveness of one’s self and others and it bringing healing and how bobby and Eddie have been paralleled a fair amount and the idea that Eddie started this process back at the end of s5 with his forgiveness and acceptance of his father but how he hasn’t yet gone anywhere near his mother and their relationship .
How his catholic guilt storyline seems more likely to play on his reltionship with his mother than his father (if his father wasn’t around that much it would’ve been Helena taking him to church etc each week) so the idea of an Eddie - Helena storyline that plays on catholic guilt and potentially his queerness in relation to that has me chewing on glass - it could be so epically good
#I’ve always viewed Helena as the biggest issue in Eddie’s relationship with his parents - Ramon has always - to me a least always seemed to#just go along with what Helena wants or dictates#it made sense with how his trauma ptsd army related arc played out that it was Ramon who was the centre of that#now though - catholic guilt - possibly playing into his queerness and suppression of that queerness#to keep some kind of reltionship with his mother - who only seems to view him through a lens of failure#leading him down a road where he wasn’t able to be his true self - it would be so powerful#there is so much potential there#eddie saying his mother wasn’t an issue in s6 - was such a choice and so pointed that they have to be wanting to explore that#so many aspects of who Eddie is and why he is the way he is - his want to nest but not being able to with women - stems from his mommy#issues and the fact he’s been denying they exist#I will eat it up - it would be the right kind of angst for the show and Ryan would deliver#plus the way it parallels with Bobby and his relationship with Catholicism would be fascinating#not to mention the whole Eddie not having a relationship with the faith he was brought up in only to start dating someone who is a literal#embodiment of that faith - and female - as a symbol of his needing to explore and reconcile the actual reasons for his faith lapsing- become#could not be queer and Latino and catholic when Eddie was growing up - it wasn’t an option - so if you step away from the faith that’s#denying a fundamental aspect of who you are#even if you still can’t act upon it - it is easier to keep that part of you concealed#911 spoilers#911 Thinky thoughts#eddie diaz#I need this arc to be a thing so badly#911 abc
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)
gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.
warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)
The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him.
He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with.
Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course.
Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down.
Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered.
At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy.
Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on.
You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on.
“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels.
You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up.
“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”
“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission.
You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”
“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.”
Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice.
His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”
Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”
“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).”
His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late.
He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to.
You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.
You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.
It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”
You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”
“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.
You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”
For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?”
“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to.
He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?”
You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults.
He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”
Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.
He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
It’s a vow he swears to keep.
“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”
He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise.
Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#arranged marriage#i'm in my jjk phase bye
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bound By Blood (m)
synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.
k.taehyung x f.reader
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable
❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
The Kim Empire.
Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.
They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway.
He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums.
Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is.
Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass.
You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath.
The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god.
You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety.
You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.
Love is something you will never be granted the property of.
You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper.
You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed.
One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor.
Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene.
You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath.
You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on.
A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced.
It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain.
For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time.
Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe.
How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that.
“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.
You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should.
Prince Kim has never been known for being kind.
Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face.
“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again.
Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.
You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.
“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want?
All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you.
Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action.
The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone.
You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.
Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.
You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful.
Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again.
A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before.
He desires an answer.
“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height.
You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive.
You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way.
You think you dislike the feeling.
“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.
You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart.
“I suppose so.”
He frowns. Try again.
“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel.
The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down.
Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you.
“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead.
You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment.
“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants.
“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you.
“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage.
“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it.
All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady.
You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.
“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top.
He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it.
You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.
Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely.
He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.
“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.
When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens.
“Purity.”
Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon.
He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.
It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions.
Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status.
The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive.
It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.
You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything.
The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones.
You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs.
It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one.
Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter.
A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons.
“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor.
You simply shake your own.
“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again.
“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.
“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is.
“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation.
You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace.
You had not been optimistic since then.
She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks.
“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.”
You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.
“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?”
You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design.
Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world.
You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.
“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.
“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.”
Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before.
Ah. It all makes sense now.
“Oh.”
“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.”
Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him.
However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut.
“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.”
She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.
“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.
“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.”
You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement.
“Good.”
Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest.
Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest.
You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable.
Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.
Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall.
Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway.
You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them.
You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms.
Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why.
His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status.
He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that.
You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!
You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught.
His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back.
Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before.
“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.
It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion.
“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy.
He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being.
“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place.
You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.
“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam.
His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features.
Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.
Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.
They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?
“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.
“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic.
“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.
You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.
“Yes. Thank you.”
You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms.
Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.
However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.
“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.”
You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone.
“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.”
“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.”
He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.
“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.
“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.
You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is.
“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too.
“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.”
He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.”
You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.
Ah. Right.
The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown.
He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother.
All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise.
Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white.
How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing.
“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares.
If he does, he doesn’t show it.
“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips.
Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it?
“When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast.
“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them.
“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.
“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him.
“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head.
“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more.
“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.
“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.”
He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”
In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway.
The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night.
You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible.
It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions.
Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined.
In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach.
Why did he know your name?
It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in.
This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages.
He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby.
You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort.
Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.
You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else.
Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath.
Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on making his war for you.
Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne.
You only wish it was that easy.
“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that.
The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths.
At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position.
A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door.
Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster.
A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears.
She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen.
You do not like to think of them.
Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess.
“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away.
Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm.
“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading.
“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.
This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!”
“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before.
“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls.
“And what am I meant to do?”
“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!”
Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!
You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?
“I understand. It will be dealt with.”
The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart.
At least that is what you hope.
The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents.
A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month.
He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible.
Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid.
What a strange feeling it is.
The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.
You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.
Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake.
His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend.
Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered.
You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–”
His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own.
His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.
Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own.
You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people.
But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain.
You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance.
They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible.
You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire.
“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems.
“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.”
You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales.
The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body.
“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction.
You pause.
“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer.
“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would.
You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.
“But if someone were to see them–”
“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.”
Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut.
You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.
“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear.
“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone.
He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.
“Good lamb.”
You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge.
Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else.
That is the only logical solution, at least.
But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well.
Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week.
It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect.
You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can.
His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name.
You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.
You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior.
His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has.
You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away.
The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.
More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.
Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor.
She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.
Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form.
You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being.
Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose.
Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them.
Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for.
You reach to spray your second favourite perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.
Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.
It is all too strange for you to want to understand.
Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible.
The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.
A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can.
But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?
A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you. It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed.
So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?
No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.
Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn.
Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it.
You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.
A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it.
You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.
Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open.
There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.
But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you.
The future king would be a fearsome thing.
“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore.
You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…”
“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.
“I– Prince Kim…”
“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.
“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of.
“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.
You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse.
That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape.
“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it.
He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you.
Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof.
“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal.
Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.
“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore.
His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?”
“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”
You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room.
“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt?
Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country?
You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft.
“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.
“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft.
It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever.
“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.”
You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment.
A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh!
He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?”
A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable.
Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before.
“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine.
“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you.
“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.”
You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.
Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.
“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day.
“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own.
He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself.
“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.”
What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?!
Oh heavens, oh gods.
“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.”
You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be!
Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.
It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place.
Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.
“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”
The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long.
“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating.
“What…?”
His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.”
“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again.
You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order.
In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him.
You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare.
You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory.
You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do.
As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.
When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it.
His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core.
“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.”
“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest.
Only words you can manage at the revelation.
“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself.
The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen.
You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–”
“Taehyung.”
“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.
He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth.
“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”
He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well.
He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly.
“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”
You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more.
With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours.
Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own.
His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it.
His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body.
Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse.
The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.
The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.
This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince.
The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste.
“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own.
Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him.
When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him.
Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.
For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well.
He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever.
He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.”
He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him.
God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.
“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.”
O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god.
His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left.
When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort.
“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core.
Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal.
You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.
His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being.
“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.
“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else.
The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting.
“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige.
His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him.
You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you.
Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth.
He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal.
A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything.
Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life.
You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible.
His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.
All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting.
He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.
It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.
His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit.
A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt.
You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact.
Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering.
His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue.
Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.
“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him.
He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high.
It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle.
Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form.
Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled.
He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them.
“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt.
You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place.
He will not have you running away.
Not now.
Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters.
He is.
He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows.
Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.
He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.
“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels.
Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality.
He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good.
His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”
Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through.
Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.
You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want.
“Please.”
He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.
Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you.
But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.
One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for.
Not yet.
He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it.
He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity.
“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes.
He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more.
He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk.
So sensitive. So ready for him.
As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet.
He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck.
His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls.
He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take.
A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock.
He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort.
You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there.
Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity.
Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.
“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.
But he holds restraint. Just enough.
The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more.
He is falling apart before you, because of you.
He has gone mad because of you.
The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.
You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.”
He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.
You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs.
“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.”
He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.
“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly.
Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?
His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.
You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused.
With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop.
“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.”
He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him.
Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.
He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.
Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.
“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit.
“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.”
He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him.
“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul.
That is close enough to the truth, anyway.
“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him.
Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.
“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!”
He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.
His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more.
“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body.
“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!”
He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter.
It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.
“Who are you going to marry?”
You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?
“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by.
“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him.
“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel.
“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore.
Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.
“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck.
“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.
“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly.
“Who do you belong to?”
“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment.
His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.”
Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe.
You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide.
Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise.
“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing.
Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body.
“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.
Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.
“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright.
“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already.
“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.
You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.
“Goodnight my lamb.”
The Kim Empire.
His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.
Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you.
When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.
He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.
At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.
Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases.
It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games.
But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.
He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.
He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it.
Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night.
But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you.
Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time.
God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.
If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.
You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him.
It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth.
He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.
You are bound to him by blood after all.
© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.
#taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#bts x reader#bts smut#bts#taehyung#kim taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#taehyung x y/n#bts reactions#bts drabble#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts oneshot#taehyung fic#kim taehyung#bangtan#bangtan x reader#bangtan smut#yandere taehyung#yandere bts
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
A fresh start
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Word count : 4.2k
Part 2
Requested!
In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.
It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."
Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.
"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"
"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"
"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.
"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.
"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.
"She just joined the team."
"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.
"Y/N!" Joris called out.
"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.
"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"
"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.
"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.
"I can figure that one myself!"
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Charlie!"
"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.
"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.
"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.
"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.
"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.
"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."
Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.
"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.
"This will be your..."
Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.
"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"
Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–" Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.
"Sorry?"
"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."
"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."
"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.
"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."
He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."
"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"
"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid
"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Mommy, look!"
You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"
"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.
"A moustache? Is that a cat?"
"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"
"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"
"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"
"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"
"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"
"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.
"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"
Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"
"Adam!"
The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Mommy!"
You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.
"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.
You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.
"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.
"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"
"Yes!" he squealed.
You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”
"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.
"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"
His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."
"Bye, Charlie!"
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.
"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"
"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.
"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.
"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"
"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.
"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"
"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"
"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.
"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.
"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.
"No."
"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"
"Mommy only goes on a date with me."
"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.
"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.
"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.
"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Charlie hurt?"
"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"
Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.
Until you heard a knock on the door,
"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.
"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.
"Why didn’t you come to see me?"
"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.
"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."
To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"
"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.
You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.
"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."
You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"
"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.
"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.
"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Go! Open the door!"
"I can’t. Give me a second."
"Why?"
"I’m nervous, buddy."
"I’ll open it for you!"
"No, no!"
You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.
"Mommy?"
"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.
"Go, Charlie!”
"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"
"Y/N. Actually–"
"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.
The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?
And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.
"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.
"Would you go out on a date with me?"
You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“
"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.
"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.
"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."
He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"
"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.
"And what’s wrong with that?"
"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles."
He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."
"How did you get his permission?"
You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."
Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.
"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.
"Fine. Just one date."
To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."
"Sure, I’ll send you the address."
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
"Be nice to Joris, alright?"
"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"
Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."
"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"
Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.
Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.
"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.
"It’s none of your business. Please leave."
"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.
"Leave, please."
"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."
You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.
"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.
"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.
"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.
You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.
"Y/N? Are you crying?"
You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."
"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"
"I–" You sobbed again.
"She wants you to leave, kid."
Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"
"I’m her husband."
You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.
Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."
"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.
"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.
"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"
"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."
"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.
"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.
"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.
Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.
"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."
"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.
It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.
But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.
"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.
"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.
"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.
"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.
"How long?"
"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.
"You didn’t report to the police?"
"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.
"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."
"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.
"You still owe me a proper date?"
"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.
"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."
"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.
"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagines#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.
“Because they were overbored!”
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.
“I’d like that.”
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡
taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna
#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#opla zoro x reader#opla zoro#opla x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#zoro reader insert#zoro#zoro one piece#one piece#opla#zoro x you#zoro fluff#zoro roronoa x reader#op x reader#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro fic#zoro imagine#one piece x reader#one piece headcanons#one piece fluff#one piece netflix#opla imagine#togenabi-writes#togenabi-zoro-02
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Love You, It's Ruining My Life
Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing
Work Count: 5.2k
You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”
Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”
“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”
“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.
You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”
He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.
“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier.
“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”
Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning.
Azriel arched a brow in question.
“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”
Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.
Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”
He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”
You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.
“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.”
Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you.
“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly.
He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.”
You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.
---
A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.
Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”
“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”
The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”
Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”
That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”
You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”
He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.
“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked.
It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you.
He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop.
Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.
Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.
---
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House.
It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company.
“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.
“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him.
His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.
Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains.
Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.
Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment.
Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”
Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.
“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”
“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”
Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”
Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”
“Maybe you should.”
Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely.
---
It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.
Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet…
It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.
You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him.
Cauldron, you were doomed.
“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Nowhere,” you lied.
She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap.
“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement.
“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”
Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”
You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”
“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.
You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”
Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”
“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”
Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”
You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”
“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”
Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”
---
Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.
“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.
“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”
He smiled. “I love you, too.”
He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank.
It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him.
You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend.
---
“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.
He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”
You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”
Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”
He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”
You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.
Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.
“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”
“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.
What the hell.
Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?
He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?
It was his relationships, well his lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off.
And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?
His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?
It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way.
Did he feel the same way?
He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much.
Maybe he should be with you.
He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.
Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.
You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.
“Az?” You asked.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.
Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.
The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends.
You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.
He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.
You had a long night ahead of you.
---
It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.
It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.
He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.
“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.
“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.
Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.
“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.
“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.
“Settled?” Rhys offered.
Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”
“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.
“I do. Of course I love her.”
“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”
“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”
“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.
He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.
---
Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier.
Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.
You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin.
“You do not,” you smiled.
“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively.
You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.”
He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased.
Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.
Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.
You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning.
Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.
“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.
“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”
“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”
Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.
“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”
“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased.
“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter.
You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt.
Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand.
Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him.
All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.
You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you.
Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.
---
Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries.
Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone?
He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him.
He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.
“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.
You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly.
He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking.
Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”
“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom.
You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”
“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”
You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”
“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it.
A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.
Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”
“Looks like I have,” you whispered.
“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”
“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.
Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”
He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”
You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.
Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together.
One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.
“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.
Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.
He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”
“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling.
“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.
“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.
His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking.
After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”
Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”
“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said.
“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.”
His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them.
He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.
Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand.
---
You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty.
You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him?
How could you ever be sure?
After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty.
Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…
You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again.
What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.
Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this.
Whatever this ended up being.
Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door.
“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.
Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” you replied timidly.
His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him.
He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table.
You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”
His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him.
It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were.
On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”
Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him.
You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long.
Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read:
You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.
I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you.
Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you.
---
Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink.
He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything…
He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him.
He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into.
You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him.
“Hi,” you said, quietly.
“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy.
You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.
“I read it,” you whispered.
He could only nod, his heart in his throat.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.
He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force.
“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”
Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”
“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.
You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”
Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did.
You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you.
“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”
“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground.
“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.
Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers.
---
After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly.
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”
Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”
You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.
“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him.
After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”
You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”
Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#acotar x reader#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel one shot#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel angst#acotar angst#acotar fluff#acotar imagine#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#request
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Careful - Chapter Three
(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Three: Turn It Off
Before it gets any better - we're headed for a cliff.
Summary:
Spencer finally gets to see his son for the first time, and there is absolutely no denying - that is his son.
Caught up in a whirlwind of love for the boy and navigating the first small steps in co-parenting with you, he accidentally trips into a minefield from the past when discussing Sebastian's conception, and you both realize with baited breath that you might not be over each other.
(Especially not when that lust still burns so close to the surface.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut.
Word Count: 13,400
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing; mentions of the reader being the target of a serial killer; angst/emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; (technically) Spencer being unprofessional by staying on the reader’s case; Sebastian is described to be a combination of the reader and Spencer’s looks, so this does not describe or exclude the reader’s looks/race; the bulk of this chapter is fluff because Spencer is bonding with Sebastian for the first time; most of the warnings for this chapter are because of the smut scene (which is a flashback to Sebastian’s (unintentional) conception) - so warning for smut; (kind of) phone sex; mentions of the reader masturbating; (Spencer calls the reader and she’s touching herself and he realizes it, but there’s not any real dirty talk in this section); the reader calls Spencer ‘baby’; Spencer calls the reader ‘darling’; mention of Spencer feeling emotionally worn down from looking at casefiles; unprotected penis in vagina sex (though Spencer is unsure if the reader is taking oral birth control consistently or not); there is a lack of communication about alternative birth control methods aside from condoms (like plan B and oral birth control) - but both partners enthusiastically consent to having unprotected sex in that moment, knowing the potential risks; creampie kink (not quite breeding kink?); mentions of Spencer eating out the reader after cumming inside of her; there is a scene with a lot of sexual tension between Spencer and the reader in the main timeline. Other than that - Morgan teasing Spencer? (and then having a serious moment with him). And I think that’s it.
A/N: This is by far the longest chapter - I don't know the official length of the final chapter yet, but this might be the longest chapter in the series. It was a bitch to edit, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Especially because I know a lot of people have been anticipating Spencer meeting Sebastian for the first time, and this is the big moment. I'm not gonna lie, when I was writing the first bits of this fic, I rushed to write the moment where Spencer meets Sebastian - and it gave me chills to write it. So I really hope that you guys enjoy it, and you enjoy the sweet moments in this fic, as well as the more saucy ones lmao.
...
Spencer churned with nerves as he walked back up to the house, two gift bags clutched in his shaking hand.
He had walked around the mall for a long time - partial aimless wandering, partial sweaty anxiety causing his feet to move along rapidly. He felt like everything he looked at was not the right gift to apologize to you with after so long. He felt like it needed to be perfect.
After about an hour of wandering, Hotch called him and tore him a new one. Apparently JJ had pulled him aside and explained the delicate nature of his situation privately. Hotch knew how dangerous it was to get so personal and emotional when it came to things like this, and he wanted Spencer back at the police station and far away from you. He said that if you needed protective custody, then he would put Morgan or Prentiss in charge of it.
Spencer didn’t care if it was unprofessional. He begged to stay on the case, to stay with you and watch over you. Apparently you were the only viable lead - with the flowers that had been sent to you, you were the only potential next victim.
After a while of back and forth, Hotch folded.
He sent an unmarked car to watch over your house, and told Spencer to hurry up and get back there. He needed to try and convince you to agree to around the clock protection. At the very least, if Spencer was in the house when the UnSub tried to break in, he could catch him in the act.
The rest of the team tried to farm other leads. They went through the other victims’ lives to see if anybody connected to them had any connection to the firm that handled the preschool applications, if any of their neighbors remembered anybody suspicious lurking around their homes in the days before the murders.
Spencer spent another hour rushing around the shopping center before he found the perfect gifts for you and your son - his son. (He really, really hoped that he was right about that.)
He picked up a couple of gift bags - one with a brightly colored pattern of teddy bears eating birthday cake and the other with a more mature pattern of soft roses. He put the gifts inside and rushed to get back to the house before Hotch called him again.
And now that he was standing on the porch, facing down your door again, he almost couldn’t work up the ability to knock.
But he knew that he had to face the inevitable.
He reached out and gave three firm knocks once again.
This time, what he heard surprised him.
A loud, squealing giggle, and a round of thunderous footsteps across the floor, slightly muffled by the door. Clearly - the sound of a young child.
Spencer’s blood rushed through his body like a tidal wave and he found himself dizzy as he stared at the white panels of your front door, anticipation thumping through him. After a tedious moment that felt like four long years, the doorknob slowly turned, and the door creaked open.
Peeking out of the crack - a big, curious eye, and half a chubby cheek poked out at him.
Your son had answered the door by himself.
Spencer swallowed down nerves as he prepared himself to meet Sebastian for the first time.
Upon instinct, Spencer crouched down lowly on the balls of his feet, getting down onto the child’s level.
“Hey, buddy.” He said, using a light voice, trying to be as non-intimidating as possible. “Where’s your Mommy?”
Mommy.
It felt so strange - using that word to refer to you. But yes, you were his mother.
You were a mother.
That fact truly hit Spencer like a truck in that moment.
Unexpectedly, Sebastian then flung the door open fully. It seemed that he had fully assessed Spencer, and deemed him as someone friendly, rather than some kind of threat.
A large knot formed in Spencer’s stomach then, as he saw his son for the first time. Because in that moment, there was no denying - this was his son.
He saw his own big eyes staring back at him, reflecting the same epic curiosity that he had at that age. He had your complexion, most definitely your same skin tone. The boy had your sweet smile, your cute nose. Spencer ached as he realized that Sebastian was quite literally the perfect combination of the two of you. His own wild, untamable tendrils (hair that clearly hadn’t been cut for a while) with tones of your natural color in it - your sweetness, your laughter.
Spencer used all of his self control in that moment to keep himself from fainting on the spot.
“Who are you?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head slightly, inspecting Spencer with a distinct up-and-down glance. “Are you the police? Mommy’s talking on the phone. She said the police are coming to our house. But she didn’t like that. Her face made a big frown - like when that man at the grocery store asked if she’s ‘free’ on Friday. And I said: you can’t buy Mommy, she doesn’t have a price. You can’t buy people. You buy bananas. That’s why we came to the grocery store, pal!”
Spencer frowned.
This was a lot of information to receive in such a short span, and Spencer quickly tried to sort it all out in his mind.
Technically, he was ‘the police’, but he didn’t want to introduce himself to Sebastian that way if it would bring a negative connotation. Clearly, this was a very observant child - he had picked up on the fact that you didn’t want police protective custody around. (Spencer just hoped that you hadn’t mentioned why you might need that kind of protection around the very clever ears of your son - someone who had interpreted a man asking you on a date as a barter for ownership of your person, apparently.)
Not wanting to upset Sebastian, he chose to introduce himself in another way, rather than saying he was with law enforcement - which is what he would have done with any other small child.
“I’m a friend of your Mommy’s.” He said. “My name is Spencer. Can you-”
Before he could finish talking, your voice entered the conversation.
“Sebastian! Seb!” You called out urgently, looking for him now that you had realized he was gone from your field of view.
You came around the corner in a panic and found your son standing there with the front door wide open. Your eyes naturally flickered toward Spencer, and surprisingly, a look of relief flooded your face at seeing him.
As much as you disliked Spencer for your own reasons - at least someone who wasn’t a predator was with your son. You hadn’t meant to leave the door unlocked. It was just easy to forget things when you were chasing after such an energetic kid.
“Sebastian, Mommy told you not to open the door unless I’m here with you.”
You scolded him, rushing to scoop him up in your arms - unconsciously protecting him from the outside world as you propped him up onto your hip, hugging an arm around his back to hold him there.
Spencer’s insides fluttered at how natural you looked with him in your arms. It was a picture perfect sight: you with his son in your arms. It was something he had been dreaming of for years. And now, for so many reasons, it left a sour taste in his mouth.
“Spencer is my friend!” Sebastian proudly proclaimed, motioning toward his very new ‘friend’. “You said it’s okay to answer the door for friends.”
You clenched your jaw, clearly resisting the urge to make a foul comment about this in front of your son. You wanted to correct him and say that Spencer was not a ‘friend’ - that he was far from it. But you held that back, knowing that Sebastian was too young and innocent to be stung by your anger. (Especially anger from a fight that was older than he was.)
Before you could speak further or insist that Spencer had to leave, Sebastian spoke up again.
“What’s in that bag?” He asked, extending his little arm and pointing a pudgy little finger toward the gift bags that Spencer had in his hand - items that Spencer himself had nearly forgotten about, swept up in pure awe at meeting his son for the first time.
“Oh, it’s a gift for you.” Spencer smiled at him, holding one of the bags up toward the boy. “Because I missed your birthday.”
Sebastian took the bag excitedly, but didn’t get a chance to examine the items yet, still awkwardly trapped in his mother’s arms.
You glared at Spencer over Sebastian’s head. You thought it was a cheap attempt at buying his affection. Spencer avoided your eye. (If you were a lesser woman, you would have banned Sebastian from having the gift. But you weren’t going to take away his joy based on your own rotting emotions.)
“What do you say, bud?” You prompted, wanting him to thank Spencer for the gift - even if you thought it was ill-intended.
“I’m four now!” He excitedly announced, believing this was what you meant. “I just turned four. I had a big boy birthday. So I go to the toilet all by myself - as long as I don’t wee on the floor. And I had a princess at my birthday party, but apparently she doesn’t bring the letters to Santa Claus, the mail does that. Did you know that the U.S. Postal Service was founded in 1775, and Benjamin Franklin was the first postmaster-”
“Seb, that’s not what I meant.” You said quietly, gently cutting off his unrelated string of ranting.
Spencer was grinning widely from ear to ear - he found himself so utterly charmed by Sebastian’s bright, enthusiastic personality.
“Sebastian, you have to say ‘thank you’ to Spencer for the present.” You reminded him, getting his mind back on track.
“Thank you!” He parroted back.
“You’re very welcome.” Spencer replied, his cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling.
You then put him down, and he ran back into the house, excited to open his gift and see what was inside it.
A tense silence fell over you and Spencer. You continued to glare at him with fury tightening in your jaw. Any joy he previously felt over seeing Sebastian for the first time was completely zapped from him.
He now felt like a groveling idiot, desperate to get back into your good graces. He felt like the picture perfect life with a perfect family was right there, and he was missing out on it because he had messed up all those years ago.
“That was a nice try. With the gift.” You huffed out. “I don’t even wanna know what’s in that one.” You said, motioning to the other bag.
“Y/N-” He said your name, ripe with desperation, and you cut him off again.
“When did you know?” You asked.
The question utterly confused Spencer, and when you saw this flash through his features, you took pity on him for once, and decided to clarify.
“When did you know that he was yours?” You said this lowly, edging on a whisper, not wanting your son to hear it - even though he likely wouldn’t understand what the words meant if he did. (But he was an observant, smart kid. You couldn’t risk him hearing either way.)
“I did the math.” Spencer told you, matching your whisper. “I knew for certain when I saw him.”
You let out a rugged sigh. With your tense body language, your tight jaw - Spencer feared that even now, you might ask him to leave.
For him, that simply wasn’t an option.
“Look, you can’t keep me from my son-” Spencer said, speaking normally now - he knew that eventually, the two of you would have to tell Sebastian that he was his father.
He wanted a relationship with his child no matter what.
“Keep your voice down!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if the small child was some boogeyman who would sneak up on you specifically to eavesdrop on the conversation.
From the distant sounds of giggling and some playful voices - it sounded like he was far too busy playing with his toys to care about what was going on between you and Spencer.
“This changes nothing.” You added on bitterly. “You still have no right to be around me after what happened, and-”
“You’re seriously telling me that this changes nothing?” Spencer barked back, intensely offended by that assessment.
You refused to look Spencer in the eye, and he barreled forward, believing that he could convince his way in the door with his stubbornness alone.
“He is my son.” He spit back sharply, so much passion in the words that it gave you chills. “He is a part of me as much as he is a part of you. Even if - even if you hate me,” Spencer said, unsure if that was the right term, and feeling a rock in his stomach when you didn’t protest. “Even if you hate me now and always will, I still have a right to be in his life.”
Guilt flashed across your features. You had always regretted not contacting Spencer in order to let him meet Sebastian. And now all of those late night ‘what ifs’ were coming back to haunt you. With a vengeance.
“And I know you might not view it that way, but it’s been a long time. And I have changed.” He continued on, trying his best to convince you, knowing that these words were hollow.
Spencer didn’t even think about the potential consequences of his next words before he spoke them, but he went on anyway.
“And I would really, really like a second chance with you. I understand if you and I are over. If everything we had is completely… gone.”
Your eyes flickered toward him at this, a dreadful ghost lingering in the back of your pupils. This was the last thing you had expected to hear from him, and you had a difficult time processing it.
His tone was incredibly mournful when speaking these words. He still had so much love for you in his heart, and he could not imagine being around you and interacting with you to co-parent a child and not being with you. Not sharing your bed. Not having more children with you.
“But you and I at least need to be civil, for his sake. Tell me that he really would be better off without both parents in his life.”
Spencer resisted the urge to cite statistics about single parent households and the likelihood of forming antisocial personality disorders - mostly because he didn’t want to think of his son like that, and because you being a single parent household was the entire reason he was here.
He didn’t want to bring up the UnSub again, and the potential danger you might be in - because he didn’t want you to brush him off or get even more angry.
You looked intensely thoughtful, then, clearly mulling over his words in your mind.
He thought that something else might sway your opinion in his favor.
“Plus, if you don’t let me inside, that means I got you this gift for nothing.” He said, giving you his absolute best puppy eyes as he held up the bag in your direction.
You rolled your eyes with a huff, but you took it from him anyway.
“Don’t think you can bribe your way back into my good graces, Spencer.” You said, accepting the bag, and then:
You stepped aside and let him in.
Spencer didn’t waste a moment, gratefully accepting this. He took off his messenger bag and set it beside the door as you closed it behind him. You made a point of locking it this time, putting the deadbolt on so that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to get the door open by himself.
“You used to be very easy to bribe back in the day, if I can remember.” Spencer told you, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you.
That grin, the light in his eyes. Him bringing up memories of ‘the old days’ - for a moment, it was all too much. It was too easy. It reminded you of simpler times - a time when you would have just leaned over and kissed him in order to shut him up.
“Enjoying and accepting gifts is a lot different than being bribed.” You muttered under your breath, leaving the gift bag on the table beside the door as you walked back into the living room where Sebastian was playing.
Spencer left it there for now - but he would have you open the gift before the day was over. That much he was determined of.
“Mommy, look!”
Sebastian ran toward you excitedly when he saw you walk back into the living room - he was waving something in his hand to show you. You quickly recognized it as a character from his favorite show - it was a rather large plush toy of Rubble from Paw Patrol. It still had a tag hanging off its ear, so it must have been what Spencer had brought him in that gift bag.
Your stomach tightened. You knew that it was likely something to do with profiling - the fact that when he had been here before, he had only been in your home for fifteen minutes, but he had likely been able to observe so much about your life (and about your son) just from the simple things you had sitting around. You hated it. You hated that he had so many skills and tools at his disposal that meant you could hardly keep any secrets from him.
“Oh wow, that’s so nice, baby.” You grinned widely, putting on your happiest voice for your son even though you didn’t like that Spencer had so easily bought his affection.
“And look, look at this!”
He nearly tripped over his own small feet, racing back over to the gift bag to fish out something else. He ran back over to you and handed it to you. It was a children’s picture book called ‘Dino ABC’ - it appeared to have a different dinosaur for each letter of the alphabet on each page. Educational and cute. Just what you would have expected from Spencer.
You felt a deep pain emanate out from the center of your chest - your heart literally aching as you fought your hardest to keep a big smile for your son.
“Seb, you still have to finish your snack.”
You told him, tossing the book aside to put it on the couch and walking back over to the coffee table in order to draw his attention to the abandoned plate with his food on it.
“Come on. You can play with your toys later.”
You had been part way through his snacktime when JJ had called you, trying to convince you to come into the police station for a briefing about ‘protection’. Ultimately, that conversation had distracted you when Spencer had knocked on the door.
He tucked Rubble under his arm and rushed to sit in your lap, shoveling cheese and crackers into his mouth off the frog shaped plate while you turned your attention toward Spencer - who had been watching the whole exchange while leaning against a wall, a tentative smile forming on his face.
“I have to hand it to you, you’re good.” You said, trying to keep your tone neutral, straying away from anger. “You hit on two of his biggest interests - Paw Patrol and dinosaurs. That profiling stuff is a lot more accurate than I thought,”
Spencer didn’t want to admit that he had just picked a book about dinosaurs because that was what he liked at that age, and the Paw Patrol thing had been all JJ’s doing. He had been far too busy caught up in anger at your initial stubbornness to try and ‘profile’ you.
“Well-” Spencer attempted to reply, but he was cut off by Sebastian’s loud, enthusiastic voice.
“What’s profiling?” He asked, nearly shouting, unintentionally spraying crumbs out of his mouth as he struggled to chew and speak at the same time.
“Buddy, what did we say about talking with your mouth full?” You huffed quietly, grabbing a napkin to wipe up some of the crumbs he had sprayed out.
You didn’t expect Spencer to indulge him with an honest answer.
“Well, you see…” Spencer thought for a moment, wanting to explain the concept to him in an honest, but child-friendly manner. “Profiling is when I look at the things around you, and how you act, and I can tell what you’re thinking.” He replied. “Like… if you have a secret.”
He moved toward the coffee table and once again crouched down to Sebastian’s level - and his cheeks curled into a smile at his son’s eager, curious eyes staring him down.
You watched the interaction quietly. You never would have admitted it, but it gave you butterflies to see how natural, how perfect Spencer already was with Sebastian.
Sebastian chewed a bit more before he spoke again.
“I have a secret.” Sebastian whispered - a dramatic stage whisper that kids his age always did.
“Hmm…”
Spencer put his thumb and forefinger against his chin, and cocked an eyebrow, looking around the room like a cartoonish detective, acting like he was trying to piece together exactly what this big secret was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sebastian’s entire body go stiff, as if he could better hide while not moving - and one small, cracker-crumbed fist clenching tight under the coffee table as the boy tried his hardest to contain his laughter told him everything that he needed to know.
“You’re trying to hide part of your snack from Mommy!” Spencer declared, laughter in his voice as he pointed an ‘accusing’ finger toward Sebastian.
The boy burst into laughter and surrendered his hand, dumping a single crumbled up cracker onto his plate as he curled over with epic laughter - apparently finding the whole thing to be a very amusing game.
“You got me!” He chuckled.
You had difficulty hiding your own smile at all of this, and you tried to encourage Sebastian back into an upright position as he wiggled around from laughing so furiously.
“Well maybe we need Spencer around when you try to hide your carrots at dinnertime.” You said, your tone flat, not at all reaching that same joy. “Now come on, you joker, finish up please.”
You caught Spencer’s eye then - and he had the dangerous realization that you weren’t entirely kidding.
“I’ll be around whenever you need me.” Spencer replied, seriousness seeping back into his tone.
You wanted to argue this - but of course, you held back with Sebastian sitting in your lap. Instead, it dissolved into a sharp huff out of your nose.
When it seemed that you had nothing more to say on the matter, Spencer turned back to Sebastian, who was licking the mushy, bright red remnants of some strawberries off his fingers.
“What’s your favorite dinosaur, bud?” Spencer asked.
He was eager to get to know his son better - and he was expecting a rather generic answer from a four year old, like T-Rex.
He certainly did not expect what came next.
“Plesiosaurus!” Sebastian cried out excitedly, accidentally spitting out some food (again), which you rushed to wipe off his shirt and face with a nearby napkin. “They lived in the Jurassic period, and could grow to eleven feet long!”
Spencer beamed with pride.
Even though Spencer hadn’t spent that much time around children, he knew that this seemed to be fairly advanced knowledge for a four year old.
You gave Spencer a very distinct look over Sebastian’s head. You could see that glint in his eye, and you knew that you were both thinking the same thing.
He had interented his father’s big, big brain.
It was something you had known for a long time now. And you knew that it wouldn’t take Spencer long to see it.
“Wow, buddy.” Spencer smiled widely, eager to praise the boy. “That’s so awesome. My favorite is the Brontosaurus.”
Sebastian smiled, and nodded.
“They’re herbivores. Which means they only eat plants.” He replied. “Not like Mommy. She eats steak. And it’s gross.”
You couldn’t help but to let out a laugh at this, and Spencer easily joined you.
Leave it to the random stream of thoughts of a four year old to actually make you forget about your anger towards Spencer - at least for a little while.
“Mommy, can I have more strawberries?” Sebastian asked, holding up his now empty plate.
Something a lot of people don’t realize about little kids - they eat a lot of fruit.
“I’ll see if we have more.” You told him, moving to scoot him off your lap.
“I’ll go-” Spencer moved to get up, and you gave him a sharp glare that cut off his words.
Luckily, Sebastian didn’t see this as he jumped off your lap and rushed toward Spencer, picking up his dinosaur book with still sticky fingers along the way.
“I got it.” You grumbled quietly, picking up the plate and moving toward the kitchen.
You wanted to make a comment about how you had been taking care of him by yourself for the past four years, so a single plate of strawberries was not that big of a deal. But you didn’t want to be so passive aggressive in front of Sebastian, especially because he wouldn’t understand why.
You cleaned and cut up the few strawberries that were left, and when you came back, Sebastian was sitting on Spencer’s lap. They had the book propped open in Spencer’s hands while Sebastian gawked at it and explained in detail about whatever they were looking at - likely far greater detail than the book already had written in its pages.
“Ferrisaurus.” He said, nearly out of breath with excitement. “He has a very sharp beak. He was discovered in 1971 by Kenny F. Larson. He belongs to the Leptoceratopsidae family, and-”
You put the plate down in front of them, and Sebastian frowned when he saw it, cutting off his own words.
“Is there any more?” He complained loudly. “I wanna share some with my friend Spencer.”
Spencer’s mouth flattened into a thin line, clearly trying his hardest to hide a beaming smile at being claimed as Sebastian’s ‘friend’ once again.
“No, sweetie, that’s all the strawberries we have in the house.” You informed him. “I’ll go to the store and get some more tomorrow. But you can’t keep eating all the fruit and then complain when it’s all gone.”
It was a common theme in your life - Sebastian could eat an entire carton of raspberries in one sitting, and then became upset when there was no more in the fridge.
Sebastian shrugged and reached up over the book to grab one off his plate. He shoved it into his mouth before reaching for another, looking up over his shoulder to then clumsily aim for Spencer’s mouth. You were expecting Spencer to dodge it and tell him ‘no thank you’ - a man who was a germaphobe, someone who you had seen use disinfecting wipes on forks at restaurants because he didn’t trust other people to clean the utensils well enough. But instead, he leaned down and captured the half-mushed fruit from your son, giving a small grin as some of the juices smeared across his lips.
Your stomach twisted into knots as you moved to sit on the couch.
You didn’t want to call it affection. You would deeply deny that it was fondness rising in you at seeing Spencer clearly soft and loving toward your son.
Toward his son.
Especially because it was a sight that you thought you would never witness in your lifetime.
“Thank you.” Spencer mumbled out as he chewed, and Sebastian chirped out a ‘you’re welcome!’ - even reaching to grab a napkin to help Spencer wipe his mouth before he then turned back to his book.
“You know, if he wants more fruit, I can run to the store. It’s really no trouble.” Spencer offered, clearly eager to give your son whatever he wanted - whatever he needed.
“He’s fine.” You sighed in return. “It’ll be fine until tomorrow. Do you have any idea how much fruit this kid eats in a day? How much fruit he’s eaten just today alone?” You remarked.
Spencer saw it as the rhetorical question it was, and waited for you to continue on.
“He ate an entire carton of raspberries before he left this morning. I had to change his shirt because he looked like a character from Texas Chainsaw.” You explained, feeling safe that Sebastian would not understand that reference.
“It makes sense.” Spencer replied. “The natural fructose found in most fruits make it an incredibly appealing taste to the underdeveloped palette of a child. It’s actually believed that before puberty, people have a higher concentration of taste buds on the apex of the tongue, which is the area associated with sweet and salty sensations, so children are more likely to crave sweet flavors. And most fruit has a mild but naturally satisfying fructose level, essentially making it less assertive than artificial candy that pubescent children would enjoy with a more developed tongue. Basically - children like it so much because fruit is nature’s candy.”
Spencer let out a breathy laugh as he finished this statement, and you knew that your eyes were glowing with delight as you stared at him.
Sebastian was staring up at him - clearly absorbing every single word that he spoke with eagerness. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sebastian was able to repeat back those facts word for word later on. He was startlingly like his father.
You almost hated it, but this reminded you so much of the Spencer you had fallen in love with. The man who excited you with his passion; the person who made your knees tremble because he was so chalked full of knowledge, but never pretentious about sharing it.
“Is that so?” You grinned in return.
Before Spencer could get too caught up at that affectionate sparkle in your eye, something barreled to the forefront of his mind.
“Wait - what did you mean by ‘before he left this morning’?” Spencer asked. “Where does Sebastian go during the day?”
He needed to know more about your life. There could be something small lurking in some corner that could lead him to the UnSub before the man had a chance to even consider attacking you.
“I go to see Abby!” Sebastian piped up, answering the question as he turned a page in his book. “And my friends: Paige, and Jimmy, and Emma.”
“Abby is his babysitter.” You explained. Spencer nodded at this. “He goes there four days a week. From nine in the morning until three in the afternoon. They have three other kids, Paige, Jimmy, and Emma. So he has friends there. He likes the social interaction. And I get my work done while he’s gone.”
“But you’re on a waitlist for a daycare in the area?” Spencer prodded. You grew confused at this, so he added on: “That’s how my team found you. Through the daycare applications.”
It felt like a violation of your privacy, but you didn’t point that out.
You felt like the conversation was straying into ‘grown-up’ territory. Things that you didn’t want to speak of in front of your son, because children are sponges and you don’t really know how much they absorb. So you decided that it was time for him to have some independent playtime while you and Spencer talked. He had finished his snack in the meantime, anyway.
You picked up a napkin and wiped his hands, and then you gently took the book from Spencer, who had been holding it open for Sebastian to look at it.
“Seb.” You spoke to him gently, leaning into his view. You brushed away one of his wild curls and he looked at you attentively - Spencer’s heart rate sped up uncontrollably, and he knew that he was looking at you much the same way. “Can you go play in your room for a while, buddy? I need to have some grown-up time with Spencer.”
“I want Spencer to come with me!” Sebastian argued gently. “I wanna show him my toys!”
“Yes, you can show him later.” You told him. “After we’re done talking, he’ll be right up, and you can show him all your dinosaurs, and-”
“And the stars!” Sebastian added on excitedly.
“Yes.” You nodded. “Whatever you want.��
Sebastian then let out a bright ‘okay!’ and Spencer helped him up, and there were more thunderous racing footsteps as Sebtastian went upstairs to go and play in his room.
“Grown-up time?” Spencer asked, quirking a brow at you.
You hated that the tiny bit of innuendo in his voice drudged up heat between your thighs.
You labeled it as desperation because you hadn’t been touched by another person in so long, not your genuine attraction toward him coming back again.
“Yes.” You said firmly. “You and I need to talk. About a lot of stuff. And he doesn’t need to hear all the gory little details.” You sighed. “Coffee?”
“That sounds great.” He nodded.
He followed you to the kitchen loyally and leaned against the counter while you went about the mechanical, ingrained movements to make a pot of coffee.
“So, why isn’t he in preschool?” Spencer asked.
He neglected to bring up the fact that the UnSub had likely targeted you through the preschool applications. He knew that you would become annoyed again if he brought up the fact that you were in danger - so he left that alone for now. The longer he stayed in the house, the better chance he had of convincing you to leave, to come into police custody for your own protection.
If the worst case scenario were to take place, his gun was in his bag. He would protect you if anyone tried to break in. He would protect you at all costs.
“They wouldn’t accept Sebastian into daycare because… they thought he was too advanced for their program.” You explained, answering his question. “They wanted me to have him IQ tested. And I refused, so they put him on the waitlist.”
You weren’t facing Spencer as you filled up the coffee machine with water, but he could hear it in your voice. Grit. Disdain.
Did you dislike the fact that your son was so advanced? Did you harbor annoyance because he had likely inherited that incredible intelligence from Spencer?
“Why didn’t you get him the IQ test?” Spencer probed, brimming with frustration. “Get him an assessment with a professional, at least?”
Sure, you disliked Spencer for your own reasons, but it was no good reason to have your son held back in life.
You shrugged. Obviously, you were holding back the truth.
“My mom thought it was a good idea.” You remarked. “But…”
You clicked the coffee pot into the coffee maker and turned it on, and then turned to face Spencer.
“I remembered all the stuff you said.” You said gently.
This confused Spencer, and he eagerly listened as you continued.
“About feeling ‘socially isolated’, and how you were upset that you didn’t have a ‘real childhood’ because you didn’t get to go to school with people in your own age group.” You explained.
Then it truly hit Spencer.
You weren’t avoiding having him tested to hold him back in life - you thought it was for his betterment.
Because you had truly retained something from your relationship with Spencer. From all those late night hours the two of you had spent talking, tangled up in the sheets together after-
Spencer forced himself not to think about it.
“I want him to have friends.” You continued on. “To have socialization. Even if he’s special - he can have education individually. Hell, having a tutor will probably be better for him if he’s so advanced, right? He probably needs individual attention.”
Spencer nodded at this.
“I wanted him to go to daycare - not because he needs to learn the ABCs and shit. He could recite the alphabet when he was eight months old.”
Spencer felt a wave of shock at this, and then intense pride.
“I wanted him to go there and make friends. So I guess him going to the babysitter and making friends turned out to be a better fit for him anyway.”
Spencer couldn’t describe the depth of the pride he was feeling. Not just at knowing how truly intelligent his son was, but at knowing that your instincts as a mother were so well tuned.
Not just because you knew what your son needed, but because you had listened to Spencer talking about regrets from his own childhood and you had tried to keep from making those same mistakes with his son. It was likely that you even saw how socially underdeveloped he was when you met him as a twenty one year old and that was a huge part of your reasoning.
In the few minutes he had spent with Sebastian, he already saw that brilliant intellect colliding with the nurturing you had shown him. His ability to make friends easily, his eagerness to share, his natural curiosity. He was leagues ahead of where Spencer had been at that age - shy, apprehensive, constantly clammed up around new people.
You had raised such a brilliant, beautiful boy.
“It seems like the right choice.” Spencer assured you. “I can already tell that the socialization is doing him well. He - he’s such a great kid.”
He couldn’t hold back his beaming smile this time, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, highly resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. He wanted so badly to pull you into a hug - to kiss you.
But he had to remind himself that he had lost those privileges so long ago.
He had to be thankful for the simple privilege of basking in your smile when you returned the action.
“I - I am actually kind of glad that you’re here.” You admitted meekly, a moment of shy honesty shining through.
Spencer resisted the urge to cheer loudly.
“I’ve been trying to teach him, but I barely know where to start.” You added on, exasperated laughter escaping your lips at the thought. “I can barely keep up with stuff that’s on his level. I read to him a lot, but I have trouble picking books that are appropriate for him? Anything that’s on his level academically has too much violence or racism or complicated themes for his age. At least, when it comes to fiction books. And I can’t really comprehend the scientific stuff. He picks out dinosaur books when we go to the library and reads them on his own, and half the stuff… he just tells me all the stuff he’s learned when he reads on his own and it amazes me.”
You chuckled, and Spencer easily returned it.
His son was truly an egghead after his own heart.
“I’ve been trying to teach him the periodic table, but I don’t even remember half of it myself. I haven’t needed it since high school chemistry.” You remarked with another dry laugh.
Spencer smiled brightly at you.
“You - you were right.” You hated to admit it. “He does need his dad. He needs you. He needs someone who can nurture that big brain of his.”
The detail oriented part of Spencer’s brain was eager to jump into planning - he wanted to ask you about creating a schedule, the logistics of how and when he would see his son, especially considering that the two of you lived in different cities, in different states. (Truthfully, he wanted to ask if you were willing to move closer so that he would be able to see Sebastian as often as possible.)
But he forced himself to set that aside for now, because something else was bothering him.
You reached up to the cupboard and grabbed two mugs, and poured up the coffee, and Spencer watched carefully as you went to the fridge and grabbed some creamer for yourself before you handed him his mug.
“The sugar is behind you.” You told him. “Spoons are in the drawer to your left.”
Naturally, you remembered how he liked his coffee. Black with regular sugar. It was something fond, that left an ache deep in his soul. He set to the gentle task of getting some sugar while he conjured up the courage to ask the question.
“Have you ever told him about me?” He asked. “I mean - have you told him about his father? Does he know who his dad is?”
He knew that obviously you hadn’t told Sebastian outright that Spencer was his father - not with a photo and a name. But he wondered if you had ever told him stories about who his father was - a doctor, a man who fought against bad guys. Did you only have room for malice against Spencer in your heart, or would have told Sebastian some of the good things about his dad? Had you told him how you and Spencer had met? Had you told him that the two of you were once in love?
He hated to think that you resented Spencer so much that you had lied. That you had made up some falsehood. Perhaps you had told Sebastian that his father was dead, or someone who never existed at all (because someone his age would believe that). Spencer’s insides flooded with anxiety at the thought that perhaps you had a boyfriend. Someone who was a fixture in Sebastian’s life already who the young boy called Dad.
Before Spencer could flare with too much jealousy at a completely made-up figure, you answered his question.
“I - ugh.” You stuttered out. “No.” You admitted hesitantly, capping the creamer and moving to put it back into the fridge.
You moved to sit down at the kitchen table and Spencer followed you with his own mug in hand. He found it quietly adorable that there was a rubber dinosaur placemat and a booster seat on one of the chairs - clearly the place where Sebastian sat to eat his meals. He pulled out the chair opposite of yours and carefully waited for you to continue talking.
“It was one of those things…” You stared down into your mug, a wave of embarrassment spiking in you.
Seeing how put together Spencer was now - how mature. It filled you with regret, and made you feel quite embarrassed about not contacting him before.
But the Spencer you had last seen was nothing like this. So previously, you had no intentions of seeking him out in order to introduce him to his son. But every time a major life event came up - toward the end of your pregnancy, the birth, filling out the birth certificate and leaving the section of his father’s name blank… The first time Sebastian sat upright on his own, his first words, seeing how truly intelligent he was, his first steps, potty training him.
Through all of it - you ached with regret. There were more than a dozen times (sometimes more than a dozen times a day) when you considered reaching out to Spencer and telling him the news. But you thought that he might lash out at you in anger for not telling him when you found out that you were pregnant. (And then you thought he would be even angrier for not telling him sooner).
You had considered that with his job, and with the other circumstances - he might be dead. That there might not even be someone on the other end if you did reach out.
You didn’t want to go looking for a father for your son, only to have to mourn over someone you once loved.
You didn’t want to open the door for more hurt to come your way.
“It was one of those things, that… the older he got… I never considered that he might ask.” You explained. “I just thought I could get away without telling him who his father was. Without talking about you at all. Because I was so hurt over what happened between us.”
Oddly enough, Spencer understood this. That night - things had been so messy. Spencer had always wanted a chance to apologize. He would have pushed harder - he would have chased after you better if he knew that there was a child hanging in the mix.
“You had no intention of ever finding me again to introduce me to my son?” Spencer asked.
He needed to hear you say it.
You shook your head, entirely solemn, even more guilty.
“It was selfish.” You admitted. “I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the pain of seeing you again. I didn’t consider how it might affect him.”
“So… he has been asking about me?” Spencer probed. “He’s been asking about his father?”
You shrugged.
“He’s old enough to understand the concept now.” You said, sipping your coffee. “He sees stuff on TV. Cartoons where characters have a Mom and a Dad. And he reads science books about animals - so he knows that other ‘species’ need two parents to ‘reproduce’.” You were almost annoyed by the fact that your son was so smart and still so young. You couldn’t trick him with gentle lies anymore. “I don’t think I can convince him that I am the only asexual reproducing woman on the planet.”
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle at this. He knew how it was at that age - too smart for his own good.
“What have you told him?” He wondered aloud.
“I have been trying my hardest not to tell him anything.” You replied. “Whenever he asks about his own father, I just… dodge around it.” You told him honestly. “What do you think all the strawberries are for? I mean, I can’t lie to him, but I can distract him. He’s still at the age where his attention span is not that great if he gets excited about something.”
“Would you be willing to have that conversation with him?” Spencer asked meekly. “The three of us? Would you - would you be okay with him knowing me as his dad?”
He was terrified that you might reject him. That you still hated him enough after that horrible night that you wouldn’t want your son to see Spencer as his father, even if it was the truth. (A truth that you and Spencer knew intimately well.)
“Spencer.” You choked out his name, looking at him with tears dancing in your eyes.
You knew that you had been harsh upon first seeing him again, perhaps unrightfully lashing out due to your own vendetta. But you didn’t think that you had made such a nasty impression.
“Of course. Spence, I-” You choked on your own words for a second, taking in a sharp breath in an attempt to regain your composure.
Spencer tried not to get excited at you calling him ‘Spence’ again for the first time in so long. He couldn’t take the familiarity, the sweet nickname as meaning the same thing it used to. He couldn’t take it as a signal of affection.
“Even if you and I can’t get back to where we were…” You continued on.
(Which would be something you would gratefully regret now, those feelings for him locked up inside of you, banging on the door, just begging to get out.)
“My son is so lucky to have you as his father. And I am sorry that it was due to my own selfishness that he missed out on you in his life for so many years.”
“It’s not all your fault.” Spencer replied. “You don’t have to apologize.”
You nodded at this, and the two of you fell silent once again.
Of course, both of you wished that you could go back to that night and do things differently.
You wished that you would have told him about the pregnancy as soon as you took the test - so if he was going to scorn you, he could make an informed choice about doing so.
Spencer wished that he could have chased you - that he could have been in his son’s life from day one.
Which made him curious about something.
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind.
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.”
You chuckled, motioning toward the stairs - where Sebastian would surely be running down soon, waiting for Spencer to come and play with him, so Spencer could be shown all of his toys, introduced to each dinosaur by name and species.
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?”
He didn’t even have to fully spell it out in order for you to know exactly what he meant.
Had you known that you were pregnant when the two of you had broken up?
You could have easily lied to him. But just like every other moment on this day, stupidly - you felt like you owed him the truth.
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.”
“You - you just unilaterally decided that you were going to raise my son alone?” Spencer snapped, some of that spite from early coming back like the coals from a fire being stoked.
“Yes. I did.” You said firmly.
You didn’t have to remind him of why.
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes, and then plowed forward with another question.
“So - so do you know when-?” He began, and you cut him off.
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’
“No.” You quickly replied.
But it was a lie. You knew.
You felt like you couldn’t easily tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived.
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember.
And you knew exactly when.
The night was so vivid in your mind.
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer. It was one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why he had changed.
…
Spencer had come over to your place late one night.
He had a key, but usually he was afraid to wake you up by using it. But that night he had been swamped with paperwork, writing up consultations on cases less urgent for police precincts that the BAU couldn’t get out to attend to in person. Images of mangled bodies stuck in his mind and by the time he finished up, it was well past dinner - well past a decent hour to be seeing you. But his insides felt hollow with a unique kind of grief as he imagined all the people who wouldn’t be getting home to their families - the people in the photos.
He fingered over the key to your apartment on his keyring as he walked out the front doors of the office. He had taken the metro that day, and the last trains ran late into the night - until two or three am, to ensure that people drinking could get home safely. But he needed some fresh air, so he decided to walk. He took out his cellphone and decided to call you.
If he let himself into your apartment unexpectedly so late - he didn’t want to scare you.
“Spencer.”
Your voice had a breathy, airy quality to it. He wouldn’t quite call it tiredness, not like he had woken you from sleep.
“Y/N.” He called your name back softly. “Did I wake you?” He still wanted to ask, even though he wasn’t sure that was the case.
“No.” You replied. “I - I missed you, baby.”
The slightest quiver in your tone gave you away. That gentle, needy curl around the word baby - it practically brought him to his knees on the sidewalk.
All at once, his mood changed.
It was something beautiful that you often did for him.
Every single bit of brick-like grief was pushed out of him in favor of that flowery, dreamy lust.
“You missed me?” He parroted the words back, mischief seeping into his voice as he continued the walk toward your apartment on slightly weaker legs, the cool night air brushing up against his now heated cheeks. “You’ve been thinking about me a lot tonight, haven’t you, darling?”
You let out a fluttering moan. You knew that you had been caught, so you felt no sense in holding back now.
Spencer pulled his messenger bag to sit in front of his crotch, praying that he wouldn’t look indecent in public. It took so little effort from you to make his cock swell to attention - with his intense attraction toward you, and with you being so perfect, such a beacon of beauty and sex.
“You caught me.” You huffed out. “Been thinkin’ about you all night, baby. The bed feels so empty without you.”
You both knew that it was a subtle admission. The downright filthy way you said the word ‘empty’ - Spencer bit his lip to hold back a moan just hearing it. You knew that those clouded innuendos turned him on so much. The veil. The intention.
You were touching yourself, and Spencer had called with perfect timing to ‘catch you’ in the middle of the act.
If Spencer strained his ears enough, he could hear the wet slide of your fingers against your pussy on the other end of the line, and he knew that you could hear the increase in his breathing - the hard huff coming out of his nostrils because of it.
“Where are you?” You whined, clearly needy. “Need you, Spence.”
You hoped that he wasn’t too busy, caught up at work.
“On my way to you now.” He told you, his voice leaking desperate breaths.
He was already grinning widely at the thought of what would be waiting for him - how you would be leaking wetness, so warm and ready for him; how he would be able to simply slide his hard cock into you with no resistance and your gorgeous pussy would so eagerly swallow him up. He forced himself to focus.
“Wait for me, okay?” He added on, trying to have some firmness in his tone - but he knew that it sounded too much like pleading and you would be kind to comply.
Wait.
You let out a strained, harsh sound at this.
You knew that it was another subtle code.
He didn’t want you to make yourself orgasm until he got there. (You had already had one before he called, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as one by Spencer’s hand, or his tongue.)
He likely wanted you to stop touching yourself all together. He wanted to leave you on edge, to make you even more needy for him. Even if he would only take a few minutes to arrive, he wanted you hungry.
You had the urge to argue with this, but you held back.
You knew that it would be worth it.
Spencer always made it worth it.
“Okay.” You huffed back, an undertone of frustration in your voice that got Spencer even more excited. You needed him. And he planned on providing every single inch of what he knew you needed so badly. “I’ll wait.” You agreed. “But hurry? Please?”
Please.
The way you said it, asking so nicely - it nearly knocked the wind out of him. You would never truly have to ask him to touch you. Truthfully, he should have to ask for the privilege of providing you with pleasure. He would never say no to you.
But there was something beautiful about hearing that from your lustful voice.
“I’ll be there before you know it.” He promised you gently before hanging up the call.
Spencer would have broken out into a full run if - one, it wouldn’t have made him look entirely idiotic, and two, it wouldn’t have stolen all his energy. Energy that he needed in order properly fuck you. He didn’t need to arrive at your apartment sweaty and panting and then collapse onto the floor in a heap and miss out on his chance to make sweet love to you.
He got there as fast as his legs could carry him (at a reasonable pace), and he estimated that it took him less than four minutes - because your apartment really wasn’t that far from the office. Conveniently enough for him. He skipped the elevator ride and took the stairs two at a time in his eagerness (and long legs). And soon enough, he was putting the key into the lock, welcomed by gentle shadows, the smell he recognized as the air freshener you loved to use, and a single guiding light that must have been the tableside lamp in your bedroom.
“Spence?”
You called out from down the hall as he closed and locked the door behind him.
“It’s me.” He assured you.
He tossed his keys into a bowl that you kept on the counter, toeing off his shoes, ditching his bag off to the side, and shrugged off his jacket as he walked down the hall.
“That was fast.” You remarked with a giggle, making him smile.
“A lady should never have to wait.” He replied, coming to stand at your open bedroom door, already working open his tie.
“Then you better hurry up.” You told him, your voice melting into a purr as you stared at him with honey warm lust in your eyes.
You were completely naked, laying in the middle of the bed, propped up on a few comfortable pillows. The comforter was down by your ankles; perhaps you had crawled into bed with the intention to sleep (some of your sleep clothes strewn across the floor, as though you had stripped them off and tossed them aside) - but then found yourself feeling that deadly ache between your thighs and kicked away the covers to relief yourself.
Spencer had called you with perfect timing.
Perhaps your soul had sung out to him like a siren - luring him here to perform his duty to you, to act as the servant meant to bring you pleasure. He could think of no better duty meant for his existence than to serve you. Ideally, it was something he wanted to spend the rest of his days doing. He would buy you a house, give you kids if you wanted them, support you in whatever ways you needed. He felt like he lived to make your life better - to make you smile, to make you laugh, to make you moan with pleasure.
If he didn’t have that, then he was lost.
In the low lighting, the star shaped necklace that he had given you for your birthday sparkled between your breasts, and Spencer found that you were most gorgeous wearing only that - a kiss of his claim on you, a perfect symbol of the beauty of your relationship among your goddess-like curves.
He felt entirely overdressed and he rushed to play catch up; fingers fumbling over buttons, his movements becoming downright frantic as he stripped out of his clothes. He almost knocked his glasses off his face while ripping his shirt off his head, and he had to place them on your bedside table for safekeeping. And then he nearly tripped out of his pantlegs on his way to the bed, which had you giggling, and he flashed you a smile.
But finally, he was freed, as naked as you were, and he crawled between your open, welcoming thighs. It felt like coming home. Your hands reached up to settle onto his ass - gently smoothing from the skin there, up his back, spreading warmth across his body as you groped him smoothly with soft, open hands.
He planted one hand on the pillow beside your head and used the other to gently lift your chin toward his. He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day. Even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart.
He really should ask you to move in with him soon.
Even if he had to be away for days on cases, he should get to come home to you.
The two of you should start building a proper life together.
But of course, any thoughts about the clippings of property listings that Spencer had hidden away in a desk drawer fled from his mind when you rubbed your knee across his thigh, sending shivers through him - reminding him exactly what he was here for.
Typically, he would be the kind of man to go down on you, thoroughly, before he fucked you. He loved the feeling of your legs tightening around his head - he loved the taste of you on his tongue.
But when he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him - his self control broke down. He had missed you so much. He realized that he needed you just as badly as you needed him. He moaned even harder against your mouth, and he pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip.
Then, he asked a very important question.
“Do you have a condom?”
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him.
He knew that you typically kept a box of condoms in your bedside table. But the last time he had reached for one, the box had been empty. And he had resorted to using ‘the emergency condom’ that he kept in his bag. He didn’t have one in his bag now and he wasn’t sure if you had gotten a new box of condoms for the nightstand.
While he contemplated all of this, he kissed along the side of your breast, and then gently tongued at your necklace, still loving how it looked against your bare skin.
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply.
You combed your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. It was something that made it far more difficult for him to concentrate. Especially when he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat.
He didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you.
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. Or that you meant to pick up a Plan B pill in the morning. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.)
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.”
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this.
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up - and then he gently guided the length of his cock into you.
This was always his favorite part.
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect.
But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. Spencer always thought that it was a myth, men talking about how condoms actually reduced the feeling. It was such a thin piece of latex, how could it truly affect the overall sexual experience that much? Sex with you was so amazing, he couldn’t possibly imagine it getting any better.
But this - this was so much better.
He could feel your wetness sliding against every inch of his cock, he could feel your heat drowning him, he could feel every little clench you made - every little movement. He felt like he was truly drowning inside of you. Like he was being smothered inside of your perfect body.
His head collapsed against your breast, and he sucked in a sharp breath, struggling through it all, as though he was trying to swim through thick, warm honey. His head was hazier than it had ever been - if someone asked him to recite a most basic fact at this moment, he wouldn’t be able to.
“Spence,”
You whined, arching your hips into him, forcing your pelvis into him just slightly more - he felt your pubic hairs grazing against the base of his cock, the sensitive head of his cock angling at a new place inside of you. He let out a pathetic moan, struggling not to cum too early.
“Move, please.” Your voice was breathy, and desperate, and he had to remind himself of his purpose - bringing you pleasure.
“Yes.” He sighed, trying to regain his composure. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just-”
Whatever else you were going to say was promptly cut off when Spencer put both hands on your hips and bent his knees slightly, gaining the traction needed to properly fuck you.
He didn’t initiate a brutal or rough pace, but he pistoned his hips well enough to take the air out of you. His movements rang a moan out of your lungs as pleasure hummed through your body, finally getting what you had been craving all night. You loved the feeling of his long cock finally plunging in and out of you, especially without the barrier of a condom. It was enough to create the delightfully filthy sound of skin smacking through the air, well timed with the chorus of moans that began to echo out from your lips. Something that was complemented by Spencer’s own grunting and whining - something he tried to partially hide by biting his lip.
It was perfect. It was so easy, came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. It was a perfect dance that made your entire body relax - the beautiful tingle of knowing that he was touching you.
“Thank you.” You moaned, reaching around to plant your hands on Spencer’s ass again. “Fuck, thank you.”
You bent your knees and spread your thighs more, angling your body perfectly for him to fuck into you even deeper. At the same time, you used your hold on him to pull him closer - to shove his cock even deeper into you. Something that both of you grunted harshly at. It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible.
With your wetness gathering around the base of his cock and dripping down over his balls - with your hot, thrumming cunt squeezing over him, he was getting dangerously close.
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning.
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.”
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’.
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and you forcibly held him close by digging your nails into the flesh of his ass. Any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond. Especially when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth.
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time.
Spencer collapsed on top of you - even as tired as he was, he was careful not to hurt you by putting too much of his body weight onto you. (Even though you professed that you liked feeling his weight on top of you because he didn’t weigh all that much).
“Wow.” Spencer breathed into your neck - finding himself speechless after such a fantastic moment.
“That - that was amazing.” You remarked, breathless.
After a few moments, his cock began to go flaccid and slipped out of you, and he still felt your pussy practically beating with heat. He was reminded of something.
“You haven’t had an orgasm.” He mumbled quietly.
“It’s okay, I-”
‘I made myself cum earlier.’
Your words were cut off as Spencer descended down between your thighs. He felt his cock twitch with interest at the sight of his thick, white cum leaking out of your used cunt, mixing with your clear wetness.
So perfect.
He didn’t hesitate before putting his hands on your thighs, holding your legs apart while he shoved his tongue deep inside of you - partially with the purpose of cleaning up his own mess and partially with the newfound curiosity to taste what the two of you were like together.
You gripped onto his hair and moaned out, not a single complaint to be found on your lips.
It was the most perfect night that either of you could have imagined. All topped off by falling asleep in each other’s arms after a hot shower together.
Three days later, Spencer was called away on a case in Atlanta, Georgia that changed his life forever.
…
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’
“No.”
Spencer could see the lie reflected in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night.
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about - if his memory served him well enough. Which it usually did.
He couldn’t hold himself back from calling you on it.
He locked his eyes on yours across the table, the memory of that night possessing him - the ghost of your warm skin pressing against his own only further driving the words from his lips.
“Don’t lie to me.” He said, his voice a deadly, low rumble. “Look at me now, and tell me in all honesty that you don’t remember that night. Tell me that you don’t remember the way I felt inside of you. Tell me you don’t remember how good it was.”
Maybe it was pure spite on Spencer’s end. Desperately wanting to know that after all the resentment, the arguing, the years he had lost with his son, with you, that you still felt something for him underneath the anger and the annoyance.
Even if that underlying thing was lust. It was a strange victory, but he mentally cheered when he saw you clench your thighs together past the table - when your jaw tightened up. Your fingers twitched, and he knew you well enough to see the subtle signs of your lust from a mile away.
Old habits die hard.
Spurred on by this, and your steely silence, he kept going.
“Tell me that you don’t remember how perfect we were together - how good it felt when it was just us, nothing but skin on skin for the first time.”
You exhaled sharply.
“Spencer, we are not doing this right now.” You declared, your voice quivering slightly in your throat.
This didn’t deter him.
It was your use of the words ‘right now’ - even if unconsciously, you thought that there might be a ‘later’.
(In your mind, having sex with your ex, the father of your child, just to get off, sounded like the worst idea ever. But he looked so good and you knew that he was good in bed and if you had to be cooped up in the house with him for much longer, you would be making that stupid decision against your own will.)
“Tell me you don’t remember how good it felt when I came inside you that night.”
Spencer’s words were becoming more graphic now, looking to get more of a reaction out of you.
It worked in an instant - you swallowed thickly, your whole body tingling with the imagery his voice carried. The underlying lustful rumble in his tone making your insides quake. Your leg twitched with that unconscious desire to have some friction between your thighs. It was working so well, and he hated how much he loved it.
“I mean - what was your intention that night? Did you want me to fuck a baby into you? Is that why you were so desperate for me to fuck you raw? Is that why you kept pushing my cock deeper inside of you? Were you just that desperate to get knocked up?”
His words were making you utterly dizzy with heat. If it wasn’t for the common sense blinking loudly at the front of your brain, you would have jumped across the table and tackled him just to hump him for some sort of friction on your aching cunt.
Of course, he could read this plainly all over your face.
“Spencer-” You breathed out.
Just then, Spencer’s phone rang, cutting through the dangerously palpable tension in the air.
He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and when he saw Morgan’s contact name on the screen, he thought for certain that the man was calling to discuss some development in the case.
“I have to take this.” Spencer sighed.
“That’s fine.” You nodded. You were glad to have some relief from the dangerous tension - you needed a few minutes to collect yourself.
Spencer got up from the table and naturally moved toward the back door - a sliding glass door that he was disappointed to find unlocked. He would have to remind himself to have a talk with you about having better security protocols in your home, even during daylight hours.
Spencer closed the door behind himself, creating a small barrier of privacy as he answered the call.
“Hello.”
“Hey, pretty boy,” Morgan chuckled.
Spencer rolled his eyes, immediately knowing that this wasn’t a work call - this wasn’t anything serious in nature for Morgan to be greeting him that way.
“What do you want?” Spencer replied, his patience already in short supply.
“Oh, come on, man.” Morgan kept up that airy, light tone. “You think you can sneak around with your secret little family and not have it be the hottest gossip we’ve had in years? I wanna hear more about this kid of yours. Me and Prentiss got a bet, goin’ - so, was it an accident or not? Did you really know what you were doin’ when you stuck your little genius thang in her back then? Or no?”
Reid was going to kill JJ. (Well, not really. He was likely just going to glare at her firmly and ignore her for a day - or, just until she apologized.)
He knew that it had likely been an accident - the information about his private life getting leaked to the entire team. But, if JJ could keep important information about killings away from the media, why couldn’t she keep this out of the team’s hands? Why couldn’t she have made up some excuse about where Reid was?
“No, no.” Spencer ground out harshly, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I am not telling you if my son’s conception was an accident or not just to satisfy some stupid bet.”
“Ooh, a son.” Morgan seemed stuck on this piece of information. “Rossi, you owe me a drink. It is a boy.”
Reid heard Rossi and Prentiss arguing in the background, and he let out another frustrated sigh.
“Don’t you have work you should be doing?” Spencer asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Hotch has us spinning our wheels here.” Morgan replied. “Goin’ through more of these daycare forms while Garcia runs more background checks - but, so far, we’ve come up with squat. Your Baby Mama is the only real lead we’ve got so far.”
Reid sighed.
“So, was it a one night stand? An epic night of passion?” He chuckled, still using a teasing tone.
Spencer didn’t answer.
“At least tell me this - is she cute? What was it about this woman that got Doctor Reid to chase after his Darwin instincts for once?” Morgan pressed on.
“She’s beautiful.” Spencer replied without even thinking, his eyes looking at you through the glass door. “She… she’s perfect in every conceivable way.”
Sebastian had come back down stairs, clearly looking for Spencer. And now you had him in your lap, still sitting on your kitchen chair, playing with a couple of plastic dinosaurs that he had brought down from his bedroom on the tabletop.
There was a distinct, humble beauty in the fact that you didn’t know you were currently under Spencer’s attention. You looked at Sebastian with such intense love in your eyes - a way you had once looked at Spencer, before that love had been replaced by scorn and disdain. Before he had messed it all up.
“Woah.” Morgan wisped in reply. “That sounds like a whole lot more than just one night of baby makin’.”
Maybe he was still fishing for information to ‘win’ the bet, maybe not. Spencer couldn’t quite tell from his tone alone. But he did sound a bit more serious, and that wedged Spencer open a bit more in order to feel comfortable continuing.
“It was.” Spencer sighed. “She - she was the love of my life.” He added on, feeling safe to tell Morgan this. “But I messed it all up.”
Morgan instantly dropped his joking and teasing when he heard the choked off tears in Spencer’s voice.
“What happened?” He asked.
“Long story.” Spencer sighed. “But - it ends with me being excluded from my son’s life. For a good reason.”
“I don’t see any good reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to see your kid.” Morgan replied. “Reid, I’ve seen you with kids, man. If anybody deserves to be a father, it’s you.”
“I was different back then. Around the time she got pregnant.” He explained. “It was just after Hankel.”
There was a tense silence as Morgan sat with the truth - as he absorbed it. Clearly, he was unsure of what to say, and Spencer found himself naturally continuing on.
“He’s so smart.” He added on, looking at the way Sebastian ran his fingers along the neck of the brontosaurus - maybe he had brought that one down for Spencer, remembering that he had said it was his favorite. “He’s such a good kid.”
He almost choked on these words, more tears welling up that he forcefully pushed down.
He turned away from the glass door then, just in case you looked up to see his tearful face. He wiped his eyes with a stiff hand, and he was surprised by what Morgan said next.
“So be good to him.” He said. “Be there for him now. Step up and be the dad that we all know you can be.”
Before he could reply, Morgan continued.
“I don’t know if I believe in fate, but Penelope always says that everything happens for a reason.” He said. “And she would tell you to use this as an opportunity to be reunited with your girl, and become a real family. Even if it is because of some scumbag killing people that brought us here.”
Spencer smiled at this.
“That is very Garcia.”
“And you know she’s always right.”
...
Continue reading here: Chapter Four - Last Hope
#sundrop writes#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#dad!spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
paid in & paid off
Jay made the mistake of paying his best friend to date you, it was a big mistake. He only did it to get you away from a different man who wasn’t treating you right, and because he couldn’t do it himself. The fact that his best friend breaks the rules and decides to catch feelings drives him up a fucking wall. Why? Because Jake should know better than to go as far as sleeping with his girl, or rather...erm, his step-sister.
៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader | park jongseong x afab reader
៸៸៸ minors dni
៸៸៸ wordcount: 30k
៸៸៸ genre: college break au, summer setting , smut, stepcest
៸៸៸ content tags: angst, smut, fluff, more dominant jay, inexperienced jake, infidelity(?), jealous and possessive behavior, risky sex, jay is mean, jake is a total loser posing as a dude who knows how to pick up girls. reader has hair that can be grabbed and pulled during smut scenes.
៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: dub-con, step-cest, jay is a narcissist, manipulation, possessive behavior, use of degrading names such as: dumb, stupid, whore, and slut. i am not responsible for your inability to consume the right content for you.
៸៸៸ side characters: sunghoon as your ex boyfriend, heeseung as your ex boyfriend’s best friend
៸៸៸ a/n: thank u for 1k followers <3 lets just call this one a late new years gift and a thank u for indulging me! btw, this isn’t edited!
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags: jake is a boob guy, big dick jake, thick dick jay, degradation, finger fucking, doggy style, mating press, unprotected sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, crying, being pinned down, but also!!!, soft and passionate fucking, riding, marking out, blowjob/deepthroating
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay knew his dad was quick to love, but quick to marry wasn’t really something he was expecting. It took the span of a single semester for him to not only learn that his father had a new girlfriend, but that he was eloping with her, meaning, Jay would be coming home for the summer to an entirely different home life.
He knew nothing of this woman and barely even knew what her name was but it’s not that big of a deal to him, considering he’s out of the house anyway save for holidays and summer breaks. It’s not like he’s going to have to deal with it too often. Afterall, he’s an adult, and so is his father. If anything, the man deserves to feel some love after sending Jay away to one of the best colleges around. Why does it matter that the marriage happened so quickly?
It doesn’t.
It’s much the same for you, if not the exact same thought process on the way your mother calls you and dotes on her new husband as if she’s one of your best friends calling you after a hook-up. You’re even a bit excited to head home once finals are over to see your much-missed mother and her new husband.
Your mother is more detailed in her descriptions of the new life though. Her husband is tall, he’s handsome, he has money, he has a son with the highest GPA on his campus. You weren’t too inclined to process the information at the time though, considering she had called you dead in the middle of crunch time for finals.
All you know is, your mother is happy and you’re happy for her.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Why the fuck are you here?” Jay asks upon returning home and walking through the front door.
The first thing he noted was that there is a girl sitting on his father’s couch, and she’s far too young to be his new wife. Upon her turning to face him, presumably to see who is walking into the house, he notes that it’s you.
“No fucking way.” You start, standing up and brushing off your legs of imaginary dust. “You’re the son my mom mentioned?”
Jay looks at you with a bit of shock unable to be hidden within his expression.
“I have a fucking sister? And it’s you, of all people?” Jay huffs in an annoyed way, ultimately because, what kind of shitty luck in life is he set up for?
The only reason this is his reaction is because, well, the two of you have history. Kind of. To him, at least, probably not to you.
He remembers the first time he ever saw you, bright eyed and bushy tailed during his freshman year on campus. He thought you were pretty, but it’s not like that thought would go anywhere further. It’s the fact that he found everyone beautiful on campus, solely because he knew he must have been surrounded by people as smart as he is, or perhaps as well off financially as his father is.
The day he decided that you’re really pretty was during a gen ed class that year. A class that he really could have done with his eyes closed if he’s being honest, but still, his eyes stayed open due to being paired with you for a simple single-class project. Where the two of you were to separate from the other pairs and come up with some sort of argument on a whim regarding a given topic.
You were great at arguing, even better than him perhaps.
And from that moment forward, he noticed you more and more through the semesters as you grew as students, despite only having one other class together during that time.
He noted during that single other class period he shared with you some year and a half into his educational journey that you were one of the only students who didn’t boast about their GPA, which led him to believe you’re probably a little bit dumber than the other students.
He also noted that you’d hang around the hockey team a lot as time went on, specifically Sunghoon and his friend Heeseung. Those two were rowdy, loud, and always threw the best parties. Or so he’s heard, it’s not like Jay ever showed up to them or anything. His GPA was far too important to not prioritize.
Eventually, he’d end up noting that you would always be all over Sunghoon. A clear indication that he should keep his eyes to himself, especially with the way Sunghoon would occasionally make eye contact with him after eying his presumed girlfriend for too long.
Dating Sunghoon though? Yeah, you’re probably a little more than a little bit dumb.
Still, it was just a little college crush that would never turn into anything further. He didn’t need more than the ability to glance at you from time to time and remember how well you argued in that first semester of college. After all, there are tons of other pretty girls on campus too, some that are also probably far more intelligent and not wasting their time on the meat-heads that barely keep their GPA up enough to attend the school.
That’s why he’s shocked to walk into his father’s house, happy to be home, to find none other than you sitting on that couch.
And now you’re standing up, facing him, and looking at him for probably the first time in several semesters. He’s actually a little shocked that you remember him at all.
“Did–” You pause, looking at him confused. “Did your dad not tell you?”
Jay slowly shakes his head, dropping his bag and slipping off his shoes.
“Probably didn’t think it was too important.” He finally says, shrugging and stretching his arms out above his head after the long drive.
“It’s pretty important, actually.” You laugh awkwardly, having just gotten to your new home yourself, waiting for your mother to come out of her shower. “This is fucking awkward.”
Jay nods and then walks past you.
“Hey wait, where are you going?” You ask, confused by the atmosphere in the room.
“To my room?” He says back in a sarcastic tone, internally conflicted over the fact that his father forced him into crush-hood with someone he is now related to by marriage.
Still, that’s something he will keep to himself. After all, it was just a small crush that never went away due to not having a reason to stop thinking you’re pretty.
He has a reason now, and he’s still happy to be home despite the awkwardness that’s now living beside him. If anything, he can fill his free time with his old friends rather than becoming friends with you. And he does, entering his room, locking it, and immediately sending a text to his long-time friend that he hasn’t seen since last summer.
Speaking of said long-time friend. Jake grew up down the street from Jay and as expected, chose to stay home with his family rather than travel for college. He loved them too much to leave them, plus the college here was good. Not as good as the one Jay goes to, but still a great accomplishment nonetheless.
Jake has a perfect GPA, a perfect family, perfect hair, and a very imperfect way of living up to his own accomplishments.
For instance, not going with Jay to university despite having a high chance of making it in. He didn’t even try, didn’t even fucking consider it. Jake is the type who is both entirely lost in the world and one hundred percent okay with it. He doesn’t know who he is, who he wants to be, or what to do about it outside of following the general rules of life.
Be born, learn to talk, learn to walk, go to school, go to college, work, die.
Still, he is Jay’s best friend, which is why he is the first person he texts upon returning home.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The first dinner with your new family felt strange at best. You have a brother figure now, a father figure, and your mother is smiling for reasons that aren’t you or her new favorite show on tv. It’s both nice and insanely weird to experience sitting at a dinner table with more than just yourself.
Things were always casual with your mother. Dinner is whenever, eat wherever. But as you look at her, you see her trying to fill a role for the handsome man she’s now married to. You don’t dislike the guy but as her daughter, who she raised almost entirely on her own, you’re cautious about him.
And looking at Jay? It’s a little bit strange for you. He was so quiet on campus, which is a stark contrast to his loud and vibrant father. The two of them are still alike in some way when it comes to their ice cold stare that can’t be as icy as it appears.
You remember working with Jay maybe once or twice throughout your semesters, and he was very well spoken. To the point that it almost felt as if you were working directly with a professor rather than a college student. He was clean back then, and somewhat brooding in his own way. It still rings true today if you remind yourself of his attitude upon meeting you in the living room.
“Jongseong,” His father clears his throat with his son’s name, a smile forming as he places his cutlery to the side. “How did your finals go?”
Jay perks up at the ability to talk about himself and his accomplishments as he looks to your mother. He smiles at her, and you can’t help but think he’s putting on some sort of act. He never smiled too often when you did see him.
You snort.
“Jongseong?” You say, laughing at the way his father is so formal. “I thought your name was Jay?”
Jay was mid-sentence when you so rudely interrupted him and his shiny GPA, as he shot his head to you.
“Okay,” He says shortly. “What’s your GPA then?”
His father and your mother share a quick glance at each other, seemingly worried that the two of you appear to already be acting like siblings that do not get along.
“Pfft,” You snort, rolling your eyes. “My GPA is just fine, Jongseong.”
You’re just kidding around, but you can’t help but press when you note his, almost immediate, annoyance. Which to you is a bit too uptight if you’re being honest.
“So what is it then?” He glares, huffing out through his nose. “Because mine is a weighted 4.7.”
It’s the fact that you already hate that he’s challenging you. You had no idea that his GPA was so high already, revealing that he must take extra honors classes and advanced courses by this point. Probably making straight A’s in most of them, if not all of them.
You swallow around your spoon, your cheeky smirk falling almost instantly.
“Point taken.” You roll your eyes.
“What is your GPA?” He asks again with a smug smile.
“I told you, my GPA is fine.” You argue.
Jay thinks you must have fallen off of your ability to argue, because you’re really not putting up a fight like you did during that first semester.
“Doesn’t seem fine.” He laughs, grabbing his cup and glaring at you from over it. “Probably just hiding that you’re failing, just like that boyfriend of yours.”
You pause, actually mad now.
“Excuse me?” You stare at him, dropping your spoon and clenching your fist.
“Jongseong!” His father raises his voice at the family mishap, taking your mother’s hand on top of the table.
Both you and Jay shoot your heads to him.
“That is your sister, don’t be rude.” His father says in a booming voice, reminding Jay that he can’t be petty like this to you.
Despite wanting to. Mad that he still thinks you’re pretty even with the new discovery, even more mad that he enjoyed pushing your buttons just now.
What’s worse is the way he glances at you and sees you snicker at his scolding before flinching as if your mother kicked you from under the table.
He grimaces at the situation, at you, and then smiles at his father.
“Sorry,” He says, scratching his forehead before grabbing his cup again. “Would have been nice to know I was coming home to a sister though.”
His dad’s eyes widened before narrowing at his son, annoyed that his own flesh and blood is acting like such a child over this matter.
“Jongseong–” He warns, and then your mother is speaking up.
“Wait, you didn’t even tell him that I have a daughter?”
The apologetic look that takes over your new step-father’s face is interesting because, honestly, it is a weighted question. You’d like to know why he didn’t tell Jay too, then again, maybe it wasn’t intentional.
With that, you watch as Jay stands up and leaves the kitchen, leaving his plate there presumably for someone else to clean and can’t help but do the same.
You can see that familiar look of hurt on your mother’s face and feel it best that you sink away into your own room, which still needs to be set up and rearranged anyway.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A week and a half since you’ve been to your new home, a week and a half of awkward family dinners, a week and a half of being shunned by your new step brother, and a week and a half of your boyfriend not texting you back.
Safe to say, this summer is starting off on the wrong foot for you and you’re already wanting it to be over so that you can at least focus on schoolwork, rather than the fact that it feels like everyone on this earth must hate you.
You sit in your room once again after an awkward dinner, hearing your mother and Jay’s father talk quietly in the living room about being in love or something, you’re not sure, you don’t really care.
At this point, being here rather than your mother’s old house just makes it worse. None of your friends are close enough to just up and visit you, Sunghoon certainly isn’t going to come un-bore you, and it appears that the only form of entertainment you can focus on is your own self-doubt at this moment.
Why not go hang out with Jay? At least pushing his buttons would be more fun than wallowing in boredom and self-pity. Surely it would be more fun, surely he’d probably have some fun too, since he seems so fond of pissing you off already.
Up you go, onto your socked feet as you head for the door and just across the hallway to his cracked door.
You don’t even knock before stepping inside as if it’s your own room.
You note that he jumps, startled at your presence. That split second of seeing him before, from behind, it seemed like he was quite focused on his pc, but his little surprised jump leads you to believe he was a bit too focused on it.
“Sup bro,” You smile, flopping down on his bed in a grand entrance. “Watching porn?”
Jay rolls his eyes, closing out his tabs because, well, he was gonna but hadn’t yet opened the website or closed his door.
“Why are you in my room?” He asks, not turning to face you yet.
“I’m bored.” You admit, eyes looking at how messy his bedroom is. Posters on the wall, clothes thrown all around, abandoned dumbbells lying in the corner.
If anything, you’re a little shocked that Jay is so messy. He appeared so clean cut and well-put together back before you were forced into close proximity with him, his room is a huge mismatch in your head right now. Like, wow, he has personality? His clothes aren’t all boring tones of white, beige, and gray? He likes music? Arguably pretty decent music if the posters are anything to go by.
“Your room is disgusting.”
“Then leave.”
You pause, sitting yourself up and staring at the back of his head.
“Why are you so fucking rude?” You ask, glaring a hole through the mess of hair on his head.
“Because you’re incapable of having an intelligent discussion and still try to talk to me.”
God, he’s so robotic when he speaks to you, it’s so disheartening. So emotionless, so boring.
“Jongseong.” You say, mostly to try and elicit some type of emotion out of him.
He swivels his chair around to look at you, just as annoyed as you expected him to be.
“Stop calling me that.” He warns, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “Why are you bothering me right now?”
You shrug, eyes looking up and around his cluttered room again before sighing.
“I’m bored,” You try to say nonchalantly. “And lonely now that my mom is too busy with your dad.”
Jay tilts his head at you in curiosity, almost seeming interested in your issues before smirking.
“Yeah, well,” He chuckles, turning back to his computer. “What makes you think I’m not busy?”
You stand to your feet, huffing in defeat.
“Listen,” You say, nearly tripping on a neglected shirt on the ground and grabbing his chair to force him to turn around. You see that it’s annoying him, which is great. “We should at least try to get along.”
Jay stays silent, looking past you and to his skewed bedroom door before sighing.
“So, I guess you’re not as stupid as you seem then?” He offers, looking up at you from his chair with a stupid smirk on his face. Seemingly proud of how much he intends to talk his shit at you. “Smartest thing i’ve ever heard you say.”
God, he’s so fucking annoying. Why does he act like that? So pompous with such an ego. Which is really pathetic when you think about it and all of the times you never once noticed him on campus. Sure, there were a few times that you did, but what gives him the right to act so high and mighty? No one even knows who he is save for the professors who deal with his constant ass kissing.
“It’s embarrassing for you to think that your high GPA is all that's worthy of a person. You’re so stuck up, you know that, Jongseong?” You argue immediately, backing away and sitting right back on his bed. “It’s no wonder you’re such an asshole, you should go get your dick sucked or something because this is ridiculous.”
Jay pauses.
“I’ve had my dick sucked plenty.” He laughs, because he’s not lying. “Still, sex doesn’t make me that dumb.”
The way he looks down on you is demeaning and offensive, if you’re being honest. And somehow, you’re shocked by those words, like entirely floored that he’d even say such a thing to you. You told him to get his dick sucked to loosen up that up-tight shitty personality, not because you wanted to fucking know that he’s not the virgin he parades around looking like.
Still, you’re floored that he’s focusing on that single aspect of your comment. Simmering on it, insulting you for having sex. Calling you cock-stupid basically.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You think half the school doesn’t see you practically ride Sunghoon in the hallways?” He rolls his eyes.
“Maybe you’d have a brain in that little head of yours if you weren’t too busy letting him fuck it out of you.”
You lean back in disgust at him, reminding yourself that not even Sunghoon wants to talk to you right now. Sad that he’s almost right about it. Sunghoon does fuck you stupid, and you probably are fairly obvious about it considering there have been more times than you can count that he’s been just as hot and bothered mid-class day with you.
That doesn’t matter now though, considering he won’t fucking text you back.
“Well, maybe you’d feel better knowing that I’m about to break up with him.” You huff. “Again. So maybe then, you’ll stop basing my entire existence on the fact that I get fucked like any normal person.”
Jay stops for a moment, seemingly pleased with what you just said.
“Hmm,” He hums out, looking at you with a less annoyed gaze. “Maybe he hasn’t rendered you completely incompetent then.”
And with that, you’re done. You stand to your feet with a scoff and immediately head for his door. Only to bring Jay’s attention further to you. He presses your buttons on purpose, of course, but it’s fun for him. It’s not like you weren’t doing the same thing. He really thought you’d at least fight him a little more in this argument, and he finds himself confused as to why you’re actually offended.
Soft, gullible, and stupid?
“Wait, hold on.” Jay says, noting the way you stop. “What did he do?”
Of course he’s nosy, of course he wants the details, you think. And of course you’re going to stay and give them to him considering your mother is too wrapped up with someone else to hear about your relationship problems anyway.
“I don’t know.” You give in immediately, prancing back on his bed as if you’re in a girl’s room and hugging one of his pillows. Which, mind you, somehow smells good despite the room looking like it should smell like dried sweat and cum. You’re pleased with the aroma as you breathe in to continue. “He hasn’t texted me back since the last day of class, and I already know what that means.”
Jay leans forward in interest, for the first time listening to you rather than complaining about you. If anything, he’s invested in the break up solely because his past-self did find himself a little jealous that you wasted your time on such a man.
“What does it mean, then?” He asks.
“He’s probably with that girl he was with last summer.” You admit, voice cracking only a little bit. “He promised he wouldn’t but this would be the third time if it’s true.”
Jay was going to say something, but you cut him off.
“I broke up with him last summer too, and just a few days before the semester started he called me and begged for me to take him back. Something about how it won’t happen again this time, that he promises he will block her for good, and that he’s sorry.”
Man, you are dumb. Which is a shame, because even for someone like you he doesn’t think that’s very fair. He knew Sunghoon was an asshole by his appearance alone, but like, cheating? On someone that’s as hot as you? With a body like yours? Really?
“Huh.” He says, pinching the sides of his chin as he thinks.
“Last time, he didn’t even respond when I broke up with him. I was finally feeling better when he decided to come back.”
“Then, just don’t let him this time?”
You sit for a moment, thinking about if you’d have the ability to actually stay away from Sunghoon. He’s hot, and good fucking lord is he good at pleasuring you. Part of you was okay with the kind of, like, fling thing you had going on with him. The first two times he ignored you for someone else hurt, but you’re not hurting as much now.
You’re just annoyed now, because if Sunghoon would just be honest, maybe the two of you could work out something. How come he is rendered single during the summer but you’re not? After all, if you so much as mention another guy to him he gets mad. Hell, he even argued with Heeseung in front of you simply for hugging you around the waist rather than over the shoulders.
“You know,” You start, trying to come up with some sort of solution. “I always think I won’t, but he always says the right things to make me believe him, even just in the moment.” You pause to take a breath in. “Things are so good during the semester, then he’s just gone when we are away.”
Jay thinks hard about this, and even harder about the crush he had on you previously, knowing that it’s still there despite trying to pretend it isn't. Knowing that he’s glad you and Sunghoon are in this back and forth. He’s happy you’re going to leave him, and not entirely because he’s cheating on you.
It’s partially because he doesn’t want to have to look at you with him. As wrong as that is. It didn’t hurt too bad before he knew you. After all, you were just a pretty girl to look at. But now? Seeing you around the house? Knowing your daily routine? Forced to be close to you and loving it despite pretending he hates it?
It’s sad, really, that Jay immediately became more interested in you the moment he knew it was not only against the rules, but morally wrong. Still, ss dumb as you are, he knows he’d treat you right.
And you know, if he could, he would. He would try and swoop in considering he’s around you during your breaks and has the full ability to be there on campus as well, unlike Sunghoon. Never would either of you have to be apart from each other.
There are several issues with this though. Obviously. And he has to keep reminding himself each time he thinks about it. He doesn’t fucking see you as his step-sister. You’re still just that pretty girl with the pretty lips, who wastes her body on men who don’t want her. You’re not his type at all, and yet? You’re entirely the girl of his dreams.
Logically, he clearly isn’t your type either, if Sunghoon is anything to go by.
By marriage, he is now your brother. By marriage, he is now barred from openly glancing at you and your body. By fucking marriage, Jay is forced into a guilty mindset of wanting to disobey every moral direction in his head involving you.
The good news? By marriage, he is now obligated to protect you as your brother. So, is it really a taboo that he’s happy to see you think about leaving Sunghoon? Of course it isn’t.
And he’s gonna keep telling himself that.
“Then maybe, since you’re away from him and he’s out doing his thing, you should–” He internally panics for a second, knowing he’s talking too quickly to stop himself. “Maybe you should go out and have some fun too.”
He immediately regrets it upon saying it. Why the fuck would he insinuate you should go out and fuck more dudes who would probably treat you just like Sunghoon does? He has to think fast, and he has to think now.
You watch him, amazed by the fact that he isn’t arguing with you. He’s actually helping you, and offering some pretty solid advice.
“Like, I should just cheat on him?” You stare.
“Well, no. You’re breaking up with him, aren’t you?” He continues, tuning out to what you’re saying and tuning in to his head in order to figure out how to bar you from actually heeding the advice.
You take a moment before nodding, it’s not like this would be anything new to Sunghoon anyway.
“I’m sure you’ll meet someone here that’ll be better.” He finally adds to his advice, entirely half-assing it because you’d better not. Unless that person is him. “Perhaps you wouldn’t want Sunghoon back by the time fall semester starts.”
And with that confirmation, you smile at him.
“Aw,” You say snidely. “Look at us, getting along and shit.”
He stares forward, narrows his eyes just like before, and then turns back to his PC.
“Now get out.”
And for the first time, you don’t argue. Feeling a little better about joining his family now.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“A hundred dollars a month.” Jay emphasizes in a hushed tone to Jake. “Just hear me out, she’s hot.”
“Jay, that’s your sister.”
“Okay? Are you going to do it or not?”
“Make it two hundred.” Jake counters, leaning close and staring his best friend in the face. “I gotta say, it’s a little weird that you’re paying me to do this. I’m only just finding out you have a sister, dude.”
Jay keeps his face calm, trying to appear like this is simply to help out his lonely step sister. In reality, he’s doing this solely so he knows what is happening with your relationship status, and he is absolutely praying for Sunghoon’s downfall.
Plus, if he pays someone to date you, it makes up for the fact that he can’t give it a shot himself. Jake can easily get your focus off of Sunghoon for even just a little while, he’s sure of it and considering he’s his best friend, he knows Jake wont cross any boundaries and keep this to strictly business. After all, Jake can just break up with you by the time you’re over Sunghoon, and who will be there to comfort you?
Exactly. Jay will be there.
Essentially, your step-brother will have full control over your love life for a mere two hundred dollars a month.
All so you don’t go out and actually meet someone else. All so he doesn’t have the jealousy in the back of his brain nagging at him. All so he can, kind of, in his head, keep you to himself.
“Well, to be fair –” Jay offers to Jake, noting how long his hair has gotten. “I’m just finding out I have a step sister too. But listen, she’s got this asshole going back and forth with her and I can’t let him keep doing it.”
“So, what you’re saying is that, you’re paying me to get your sister’s mind off of him?” Jake raises a brow, stunned by the fact that he hasn’t seen Jay all year and this is the first thing they talk about upon meeting up again. “Why me?”
Jay smiles.
“You’re my best friend, anyone else would cross a boundary. Just date her ‘til she moves on or something, I don’t know. I don’t want to watch her be taken advantage of by someone like him.” He explains, as if he’s not trying to take advantage of the situation himself.
Jake nods, not really needing to think too much about how good of a deal this is.
“What makes you think I could pull her though? You just said that she’s hot. Since when can I pull hot girls?”
“Well, you probably can’t,” Jay laughs, “But you could probably play the part pretty well if you act like your GPA is garbage and like, i don’t know? Act cool? She seems to like the idiot edgy guys.”
Jay is pleased with the way Jake instantly accepts, and doesn’t focus on the fact any longer that he called his step sister hot, or at least, until he does.
“Okay. Act cool, maybe paint my nails–” Jake’s eyes light up. “Oh! Do you think she’s into, like, band guys? I can pull out your old guitar and say you’re teaching me to play so I can get bitches.”
Jay smacks him across the head for already acting about as dumb as you’d probably like, then actually considers the fact that it’s a great idea.
“Wait, yeah actually.” Jay smiles. “Would probably be best if she doesn’t know we are friends too. Use that as an excuse to come over and hangout and stuff.” He trails off momentarily before Jake speaks again.
“So, is she actually hot though?”
Jay freezes, because yeah. But he really can’t just say that again considering the circumstances. Plus, why the fuck should Jake care? He only said it before as a means to convince him to take the deal.
“You’ll like her.” He avoids saying anything else, ignoring the feeling in his gut that he knows Jake is going to be all over you the second he gets the chance. “Just–listen, there are rules involved in this.” Jay finally warns, tapping his wallet.
“Rules? Okay, go on.”
“For two hundred a month, take her out. Just dates. Talk to her and hang out with her, I don’t know.” He starts, waving his hands around as if he’s trying to think about what he’s saying, and ultimately, beating around the bush. He notes quite quickly though, how Jake looks at him as if he just stated the obvious.
“I mean, like, don’t fuck her. Don’t kiss her, don’t be weird.”
Because that, somehow, feels worse than knowing you’re already wasting your body on Sunghoon.
Jake tilts his head in confusion.
“How exactly are you going to pay me to date her and not act like I’m interested?” He asks, furrowing his brows. “What if she tries to kiss me? What if she tries to fuck me?”
Jay laughs, or snorts, really.
“Please.” He waves him off. “I doubt that will be an issue but if, for some insane reason it does come up– just tell her you’re saving yourself or something.”
And at the end of the day, Jake accepts the terms of the deal, not yet pocketing the money because Jay tells him that he needs to go home before you come home.
Why? Because he’s not looking the part. If you walk in and see this loser sitting in front of him, you’ll automatically know that Jake is a close friend of Jay’s. You need to not know that.
So, with that, Jake goes home with a plan to come over for “guitar lessons” the following day, at a time where Jay knows you’ll be home. And then? After the initial meeting, he will get his first payment.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He knew it. Jay fucking knew you were a slut.
Jake didn’t even have to try that hard. Honestly, it’s almost pathetic to watch. If anyone on campus found out, if Sunghoon found out how you’re acting right now, he thinks your reputation would spiral straight into the gutter.
And while he shames you for unintentionally falling into the trap, he feels proud. Proud that his best friend is able to play a part so well.
Jake came over, dark hair unbrushed but somehow intentionally styled, flannel hanging off his shoulder, where a ratty black tank covered his chest underneath. Ripped jeans just tight enough to show off, just loose enough to make it look like he knows how to wear these kinds of clothes, and he wears them well. Nails painted, and it even appears that he intentionally chipped them.
Hell, he barely recognized his own best friend when he walked through the door.
“Holy shit.” Jay had said upon sizing him up. “What the fuck?”
And Jake just smiled at him, with the same loser-filled dopey grin as he always had before the two of them went to Jay’s room, made sure the door was open, and plugged in the guitar for maximum noise level.
After all, His father and your mother go on date nights like three times a week it seems. There’s plenty of time to be rowdy college kids if need be.
And the need is definitely here.
It wasn’t long by the time you came home, curious as to why you were hearing the sound of guitar strings being plucked terribly. When the fuck did Jay play a guitar? Arguably, if this is what he does when no one is home, maybe he’s a little more likable in the fact that his hobbies aren’t sitting around and jerking off while staring at his GPA.
When you walked into the room though, prepared to annoy the fuck out of your step-brother, you stopped upon seeing him look the same as ever while sitting just in front of….some guy.
Just, some fucking guy.
A hot fucking guy.
With a guitar on his lap, with your step brother offering direction to him.
Jay looked at you, noted your curiosity of his best friend-turned-pretend-stranger, and then glared.
“Can I help you?” He had said, taking the guitar from the guy and propping it up on his lap.
You stood there, feeling the eyes of the other dude staring you up and down before shaking your head
“Uh, no.” You had responded before awkwardly slinking away and into your own room.
And honestly, it would have ended there if it weren’t for the fact that Jake was immediately whisper shouting at Jay about how you really are hot. Making plans on how to get you back in the room, or perhaps how to get Jake out of it and beside you.
It wasn’t hard really, as Jay reminds himself how it all went down. His own discomfort aside at how Jake appears to act much like he does in his own head.
“Just finished up the lesson, you wanna come eat something with us?” He had said, far too out of character.
“You give fucking guitar lessons?” You responded, entirely confused by the fact that….Jay was the one who played the nice sounding strums, not the guy in front of him, the one that appeared to be the type to be the one giving the lesson.
“Yeah? Are you coming or not?”
You paused, and ultimately joined them upon Jay stating that you could starve for all he cares.
And that’s when Jake started his act.
Sitting next to you, looking at you, asking about your interests, telling you that Jay is helping him learn the guitar because he has dreams of forming his own band someday. That he’s in college but doesn’t really care much for it, that his dreams lie in the stars still and no desk or nine to five job would bring them down for him.
Jay did want to smack his best friend across the head for that lame line, but you seemed to think it was poetic, or romantic, or some shit. It only further reminded him that you’re entirely too dumb and he needs to be here to make sure you don’t get all caught up again with a guy who doesn’t look at you the way he does.
The way he can’t stop looking at you, actually.
Jay watched as you fell in tune with his best friend’s pretend-persona, and arguably Jake was far more charismatic than usual. If he chose to really dress like this, or act like this, Jay thinks he could probably pull any girl he wants.
And he watched, and he watched, and he watched. Up until the third time Jake pretended he was going to leave so as to not intrude in the home any further.
Jay didn’t have to make the excuse that time. It was you.
And that’s when he noted that you are, absolutely, unmistakably, a fucking slut.
Why? Well, it could be due to the fact that after having a quick meal, you ran to your room and came back out dawning your own fucking tank top, showing off a pair of nice tits that you seemed to hide from him. Which, his head shouldn’t be in the gutter about that but man. He and Jake were both stunned at how you decided to present yourself.
Could be due to the fact that it’s like, you met Jake for a solid hour and immediately started sucking up. Using a cute voice that Jay knows for a fact is fake as hell. You whine about Sunghoon, like you’d struggle to truly break up with him, but you’re still all over Jake like you’ve been flirting for fucking years.
It could also be due to the fact that you invited Jake to stay longer by inviting him into your room under the guise of “checking out your music selection.”
Jay was left to his devices by that point, where you led his best friend to your room and closed the door in his face with the argument of, “Jongseong, since when were you so interested in what I listen to anyway?”
He huffed in annoyance at you saying his name and then slamming the door on him, he huffs in even more annoyance as he steps back and leans against the wall thinking hard about the plan he’s come up with.
The fact that he’s living with a total skank who never once looked at him the way you did to Jake all fucking day. Is he that boring? Really? He knew you liked edgy guys based on Sunghoon. Such a pretty boy, despite getting rowdy and dirty during hockey practice and matches. Jay never understood how he kept his face pristine, and also never understood why girls liked him at all when it came to how much of an asshole he was.
And then there’s Jake, playing the part of someone Jay assumed you’d like. It’s the fact that you do like it, and it’s entirely different from himself. Even if you weren’t now related by marriage, he probably never would have had a fucking chance with you to begin with.
Even with all of that clicking in his head, he still finds himself wanting you more now than he ever did before. With that fucking tank top, and that stupid fake voice you were using, and with your stupid interest in his stupid best friend.
This was probably a bad idea. After all, he could have just left it alone but no. He just had to be in control of who you’re dating. At the very least though, Jake knows to keep his hands to himself, and that’s the only thing that comforts Jay in regards to this deal.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Jongseong?” Jake laughs when you close the door and trap him in your room with him. Eyes glued to you and the sweet deal Jay offered up. “I’ve never heard him called that before.”
He’s lying, of course. Jake has been in and out of this house since he was a child. He’s heard the name hundreds of times, if not thousands.
“I know, right? I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard it the first time.” You snicker, putting on a show when you head to your unpacked box of disks and vinyls. “I don’t think he likes it when I call him that, so I try to do it as much as possible.”
Jake offers you a crooked smile, messy hair dangling in front of his eyes as if they were somewhat….shy? Like he’s being bashful in this room with you, but you try not to think about that because, well, look at him.
He doesn’t seem like the shy type.
“Maybe I’ll start doing it too then.” Jake laughs, standing awkwardly behind you when you bend over to pick up the box. Immediately he chokes up, stepping closer unintentionally because honestly, who wouldn’t think with their dick at this point?
And when you stand back up, turning with the box, you jump at how close he’s gotten.
“Oh!” You breathe in surprise, looking away shyly for a moment, wondering how lucky you must be for your boring ass step brother to invite such a nice looking guy into the home. “Um, you have a nice smile.” You add out of nowhere, and then immediately feel embarrassed.
“You have nice tits,” is what Jake would say in response if he were for one, allowed to, and two, not a nervous mess about being alone in a room with such a pretty girl.
Only now does he realize how difficult this might be to get through. For two hundred dollars? Well, it’s a sweet deal if you actually want to go on a date with him, and given the persona he’s given himself, he thinks he could probably get away with asking tonight. Which is insane, because he really thought he’d be paid another two hundred just to get to that point. You’re entirely into him though, and he hates to admit that he might be entirely into you too. Jay would kick his ass if he knew what’s going through his head right now.
“I like your tank top,” Jake says instead, wanting to reach forward and snap the strap of it solely because he feels confident enough to do it, but he doesn’t. The words are actually quite lame, and are a blatant show at how bad he is at talking to girls. Thankfully though, you know, since he’s supposed to sound like a guy with two brain cells, it kinda works out.
“It matches mine.”
You smile shyly yet again, entirely in tune with the idea of taking Jay’s advice and having some fun yourself. Perhaps with this guy. But for now? You have to at least pretend you actually want to show him your music collection.
And of course, Jake has to pretend he actually cares about it when you sit down on your bed and start sifting through the boxes.
“Huh, you like some pretty heavy stuff. I wasn’t expecting that.” Jake compliments, though uninterested in a music taste that isn’t his own, it’s insane how the two of you do listen to some of the same bands.
“Oh yeah? Why not?” You ask, sitting up straight and making sure your chest looks good enough to keep his eyes glancing down at them.
Because he hasn’t stopped looking, really.
“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, watching how your tits squeeze together and he can’t tell if it’s intentional or not. No girl has ever tried to show off for him like this, and he’s enjoying it a bit too much. “I, um,” He loses his train of thought when you lean back, letting your breasts fall into their natural position as you look at him.
“My eyes are up here, Jake.” You smile, watching him tear his eyes away and swallow around a lump in his throat.
“Oh, right.” He lends a nervous chuckle, one that he feels is entirely out of character given the personality he’s supposed to have. “Can’t really help it, they’re nice.”
Ah, right back into the act, perfect.
He almost panicked at the forwardness too, because Jake would never have the confidence to say such a thing to a woman on any other day.
“Oh? You can’t?” You smile, leaning back up and pushing the box from your lap. “Maybe I should cover up then?” You add, staring right at his flannel.
Jake notes your line of sight and then looks down at his own shirt.
“What?” He says, pinching the collar of the flannel and shaking it. “You already wanna wear my clothes?” He smiles.
“If you wanna see me in them.” You comment shortly, sizing him up for the billionth time. “Or out of them.”
Well, it’s safe to say Jake wasn’t prepared for that. This deal is going a bit too smoothly, and he just knows that Jay must not have any idea of this side of you. His sister, right here, insinuating Jake should like, take her clothes off. Or rather, take his clothes off of you.
It’s against the rules but goddamn is he feeling the spark with you. Right in his pants, actually. Embarrassingly.
“I’ll give it to you right now if you go out with me tomorrow night.” Jake avoids the situation smoothly, while offering an alternative. “Then, we can talk about getting my clothes off of you.”
You nod, feeling your heart skip beats at flirting with a man that isn’t Sunghoon.
“Hand it over then.” You reach out, leaning in real close to him. “But, I’d still rather you keep staring at my tits.”
Man, following the rules Jay set in place is gonna be way, way, harder than he thought.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake could get used to this, really. Taking you on dates, anyway. What he can’t get used to? Dodging anything more than dirty talk and then coming over just the next day to see the confusion on your face as to why he isn’t picking up your hints.
He wants to, like really, he really, really, fucking wants to. You’re so blatant with him on dates, rubbing up on him, whispering slutty little words that only drive his cock to pulse and beg to be used. He can’t bear it, especially knowing that these very dates are paid for by your own step brother.
Still, if he were allowed, he probably could have gotten himself between your legs on the very first day he met you.
“No, dude, she was all over me this time, even more than usual.” Jake explains to Jay during another guitar lesson, pleased that he’s actually learning how to play. “She even mentioned that guy Sunghoon and said I was way cooler than him.”
Jay was pleased, he could say. Save for the jealousy that only grows each time he watches you take Jake away from his lesson to hang out with, without him. Save for the fact that you only continue to prove that you like any guy who isn’t him. In reality, why would you? He knows there is logic to this situation, but he is finding it harder and harder every day to think logically around you.
Jealous. He’s jealous. He’s mad at how bad you want it from Jake. Hell, you’d probably take it from anyone at this point as he eyes his best friend and his new found fashion sense. It matches him, and acting like an idiot seems to match him too. Maybe Jay should consider not brushing his hair and dumbing down a little bit too.
Then again, this could just be the resentment in him building up. He’s the only reason Jake has a girl throwing herself at him. Both you and Jake should be far more thankful for what Jay has brought upon the three of you.
Still, he’s pissed about how good the plan is working, and before long, he’s hoping that Sunghoon will be long forgotten when Jake finally asks you to be his girlfriend. Then he can toy around for a bit before breaking up with you under the guise that “you’re just not his type.”
“I had the idea that she was easy,” Jay explains, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “No wonder Sunghoon kept coming back, it’s like he knew she would throw herself at him at the drop of a hat.”
Jake pauses, furrowing his brow.
“Why would you even say something like that?” Jake asks, tilting his head. “Aren’t we doing this to like, help her?”
Jay shakes his thoughts out, realizing how awful that must have sounded.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves off his edgy best friend. “Of course. I was just saying.”
There's some awkward silence in the room now as Jay’s internal panic takes over. He doesn’t want his reputation on the line for this. Even just to Jake. Perhaps he’s being too resentful with his words, only able to offer passive-aggressive remarks out loud when it comes to you.
“I just thought that if we got her away from him, maybe she’d stop throwing herself at guys that don’t care about her, is all.”
Jake gives him a look of further confusion, maybe even some concern.
“Um, isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”
Damn, Jay really should’ve thought that through. Is he losing his touch? Is your stupidity rubbing off on him now?
“Yeah, but you’re not touching her so, maybe it’ll help her learn some fucking self restraint? I don’t know dude, just be a good boyfriend, fuck.”
Jake raises his hands in defense, realizing he basically interrogated Jay of his choice of words, and perhaps thought too deeply into them. Still, he can’t help but feel like Jay holds some type of hatred within him for you, which is weird, considering the lengths he is going to try and “help” you.
“God, relax.” Jake reaches forward to grab his best friend by the shoulders. “As much as she throws herself at me, I guess I can kind of understand what you mean.”
Jake understands far too well, having gone through one too many dates while trying to contain himself to give in to your every hint or insinuation of at least kissing.
He happens to miss the way Jay glares at him for his words though. Because in all honesty, no one is allowed to talk about you like that but him, and there was something in him that broke to hear Jake insinuate that you’re a slut. Like Jake isn’t the luckiest guy in the world right now to have you throwing yourself at him?
Bullshit.
“I’ll be a good boyfriend, I promise.” Jake finally adds, checking his watch. “She’s gonna be home soon too. I’ll try and get her to hang out in the living room this time so you can see what I mean though.”
Jay wants to refuse the option to watch even more than he already has to, but there’s something in him that kind of can’t resist it.
“She likes horror movies, you know?” Jake continues, giving Jay information that he probably should have already known, but somehow doesn’t. “I’ll tell her that you wanted to watch the new one, and I’ll pay to rent it since, you know, you’re paying me to do this.”
Jay shrugs casually, anticipating the image of you and his best friend all tangled up on the couch, while he’s stuck at the end by himself. With no one. Alone.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Dad’s probably gonna be home but I can ask for the living room.”
“Oh shit, wait–” Jake thinks hard. “What if he sees me looking like this? Acting like this? She’s gonna find out that I've been lying this entire time about us being friends and shit.”
Jake only panics because he believes he’s acting more with Jay than he is with you. If you were to find out that he’s been lying, you’d be so angry at him. But do you know what scares him more? Jay finding out that he maybe kind of actually likes you more than he’s supposed to.
Jay sighs in defeat because his best friend is right, if his father finds out that Jake is running around acting like this, dressing like this, he’ll definitely say something about it.
“You know…” Jake finally says, staring at Jay’s TV.
“No.” Jay immediately shuts the idea down, not at all wanting to experience the two of you tangled together on his own bed.
“Dude, come on. Why not?”
Jay rolls his eyes in an annoyed huff, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stands to put the guitar away, ignoring that there was no practicing at all today. It’s just been hours of talking about you. And how you’ve managed to find yourself a summer job so fast, and how you’re entirely horny for Jake, and how–
“I don’t want to see my own sister try and get in your pants in my room.” Jay tries to explain as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, immediately he gives in. Solely because the sudden thought of you lying in his bed at all again is something that….might help later.
“Jake, so help me god if you so much as brush your hand across her tit I’m going to slice your tires.”
Jake smiles in victory, nodding to his best friend with the promise that, at least tonight, he wouldn’t do such a thing.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Every day you find yourself wondering why it is that Jake appears to be so into you, yet constantly shooting you down.
When you try to kiss him, he leans in, his eyes start to close, sometimes you can even feel his breath on your lips then, he just– pulls away?
When you try to insinuate that you want to touch him, or want him to touch you, you can physically see his reaction. The way his ears go red, his eyes go dark, and occasionally you even catch a glimpse of what’s in his pants growing heavy and strained.
It’s driving you crazy, really. With the way he talks all that shit but doesn’t live up to it. He’ll say some of the nicest things, he’ll dirty talk you in the middle of a restaurant, he’ll even make promises to follow through with it too. But he never does. You find yourself wondering why you even continue to text him back, or why you consistently keep this fucking flannel he offered up to you on the first day of meeting.
Every single date, you’ve worn it, just to see if he’s got the nerve to take it off of you. And every single date he pretends like it wasn’t his flannel to begin with, despite his hungry stare constantly staying on you.
So now, as you awkwardly half-lay on Jay’s bed with him, Jay separated and on his computer chair, you wonder why he’s even here.
Sure, Jay gives him lessons but as far as you know, it’s a little strange that he stayed over to watch a movie with you presumably, only to invite Jay, and to you know, watch it inside of Jay’s room.
Are they like, friends now or something? Well, arguably they had to have at least been friends on some level, but still. It feels awkward hanging out with Jay when you’re trying to get his “friend” to rail you.
Either way, you guess you don’t mind too much when Jake is actually next to you. Most doubt sinks into the back of your head and the confusion is replaced with that of extreme arousal. Something about this guy, Jake, is alluring and feels…right? Is that the right word for it? Like, correct? Or maybe, meant to be?
You know, maybe he’s waiting on sleeping with you because despite his edgy appearance and his dead-beat goals in life, maybe he really is just a big softie and wants this to work out long-term. God, you hope you’re right about that.
Doesn’t stop you from trying though, as the movie reaches its climax and you move your hand under the covers against Jake’s legs, feeling the rips of his jeans and sliding your hand through one of them. Gently, attempting to feel the warmth of his skin in a discreet and somewhat cheeky way.
You hear his intake of breath at the touch, his shoulders stiffening as he stares forward to try and focus on the movie. Still, you feel his hand move lower, lying it directly on yours with only his thin, ripped denim separating the touch.
“Oops.” You whisper to him, slowly massaging the thick of his thigh with your finger tips, toying with the way he reacts.
You don’t notice the way his eyes shift to Jay, who was already glaring at the movement he noted under the covers, on his fucking bed.
Jake, on the other hand, feels like he’s between a rock and a hard place right now.
He’s being paid to pretend to like you, being paid to not genuinely like you, being paid to not touch you, and practically being paid to ask you to be his girlfriend only to break up with you.
Which fucking sucks because he maybe, kind of, likes you? A little bit?
A lot, actually, especially with your cheeky little whispers and sneaky little hands.
Arguably though, Jay should have known better than to expect Jake to not feel some type of way towards a girl like you. To Jake, it’s insane anyone could simply pretend to be into you without actually falling in deep. You’re not only hot, but you’re fucking funny too? You laugh at his jokes? You cuddle up with him? You’re actually a lot smarter than Jay gives you credit for? And you appear to want to kiss and touch him just as bad as he does.
So, it’s torture really, that he’s so close to breaking. So fucking close to kicking Jay out of his own room just to feel what your hands alone could do for him but, he refrains.
He suffers, sitting here with this not very good horror movie, pretending his cock doesn’t ache for you. Pretending his own best friend doesn’t see how much he wants it. Yet, still hoping you see.
And you do. You do see it.
You feel it too, as you shift your hands out of his ripped jeans and move them upwards as silently and secretly as you can while remaining focused on the movie. You brush your pinky up and against the dick you clearly want so badly at this point. And the way Jake flexes it, almost intentionally lifting his cock up for you to know he likes it, despite the risk of Jay seeing. Despite the fact that he hasn’t done this at any point when the two of you were alone.
You smile to yourself, pushing your hand closer, closer, closer, until you grab it.
There goes his stiff shoulders again, there goes a soft sigh, and you’re fucking beaming.
Jay sees the way the covers are moving over the lap of his best friend, and honestly? He’s appalled over the fact that Jake was right. You fucking throw yourself at him with no shame, to the point that not even being in the same room as your step-brother would stop you enough to have some fucking self-restraint.
He watches for a while, about five minutes or so. Studies the way Jake makes attempts to arch away from your touch as if he’s following the rules of the deal but, Jay isn’t stupid. Jake, of all people, should know that. He can fucking see the way he also arches into your touch too, despite it all being under the blanket he sleeps under at night.
It’s not until Jay sees you throw your leg over Jake’s, and you lean in really close to him to the point your face is hidden in his neck and Jake appears to be listening to something you’re saying, that he decides to put a stop to this.
Neither of you are even watching this movie. You’re encouraging Jake, surely. You’re trying to snake your hand down his pants. You’re trying to fuck his best friend, right in front of him.
It feels like an insult, or perhaps an intentional act of defiance and god knows Jake wouldn’t be able to resist if Jay himself feels a twitch in his pants at the scene unfolding, even through this frustration.
Why are you like this? Why do you just–do this to yourself? To him? To his best friend? Why do you seem to know how irresistible you are? It’s almost at the point that Jay wouldn’t even want to put a stop to it solely to see what your hands could to for him if this life wasn’t so fucked up.
Still, he has to put an end to it. Jake is breaking the rules.
“Are you really trying to do that right now?” Jay asks out, and he watches the way you snap your hand back and lean away from Jake.
Both heads turn to him, and he huffs out a sigh of frustration that shows you crossed a line.
“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to pretend that you weren’t doing anything at all to the pretty boy sitting next to you.
“God–” Jay grimaces. “You’re really gonna play dumb after arguing with me that you’re not?”
You lift past Jake, staring at him.
“You can be a whore all you want, but to assume I want to see it? You’re disgusting. I’m your fucking step-brother.” He finally says, as if it’s final, and as if to convince himself that every word he spits is true.
Jake remains silent as he listens to the way Jay speaks to you, quite offended for you, maybe even a bit pissed off about it himself. Then again, it could just be because Jay is dead set on cock-blocking him.
You though? You feel silenced, a little embarrassed, and entirely turned on by the fact that Jake’s first time letting you actually touch him, was right here. Maybe he’s into that. You know, like, being caught or something. Still, the quickness in which Jay shames you isn’t shocking at all but for him to have an ego to the point of assuming you did this for him to watch? Insane, he’s so fucking stuck in his head to believe that everything a person does, is because of him.
A fucking text-book narcissist.
“And you.” Jay says, shifting his eyes over to Jake. “You could do better.”
Ouch. That stings a little bit, as your eyes avoid looking towards Jay and fall onto Jake, who only swallows at his words.
Without another word, you shift from the bed, stand to your feet, and walk out, leaving the two in the room alone.
Jake feels, uh, bad?
Or rather, he knows he’s supposed to but he simply doesn’t. After all, it’s been two paychecks from Jay now and he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend solely because he finds himself wanting it to last.
Even without the sex. Even with the intense edging he’s being put through. Even with the fact that he’s hard as a rock as Jay attempts to scold him, he doesn’t feel bad.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jay finally offers to the silence of the room upon turning off the movie. “Did we not agree that you’d–”
Jake huffs out, annoyed for the first time.
“Dude, shut up already.” He rolls his eyes as he turns to his friend, wincing at the way his cock is going soft and sensitive. “Don’t tell me you didn’t fucking see me try to stop her.”
Jay thinks that through for a moment. Not entirely blaming Jake for like, eventually giving up and letting you touch him but also entirely pissed that it’s happening for Jake, and not for himself.
“You did a bad fucking job of it.” He gripes back to him. “If you give in to the fact that she has no self-respect, you’re just as bad as Sunghoon and I’ll just go find someone else to take care of her.”
Jake pauses because he's right in terms of the deal but god. It’s not like he can just out and say “hey, so i think i actually like her and wouldn’t be against actually dating her, like for real, also i hate the way you talk to her so if you don’t stop i might have to punch you in the face.”
“I’m not going to give in.” Jake lies, knowing for a fact that it’s only a matter of time before he does. “She still cries over Sunghoon and I’m genuinely trying to make this situation better here, Jay, so fucking relax.”
Jay wants to believe him, but truly, he doesn’t. Solely because there’s no way he won't give in considering what he’s just witnessed. At this point, you might actually end up wanting to be with Jake for good, and Jay will lose his control of the whole situation.
“Plus, you can’t just go find some stranger to do this, they’d definitely fuck her, day one.” Jake makes a good point to his friend, reminding him that he isn’t the dumb guy he’s parading as.
Jay does take those words into account. Honestly, he really would have the entire control taken from him if he paid someone else to do this. At least he can threaten Jake with friendship, or guilt him or something if he does step over the line.
“Hurry it up then, I don’t want this shit to last all summer.” Jay finally huffs out, slightly defeated that this is his fault anyway, but still trusting his best friend and understanding him on some level.
“Okay, I’ll go ask her to be my girlfriend right now.” Jake smiles. “The sooner I ask, the sooner she gets over him, and the sooner all of this can be over with, right?”
He hopes he’s wrong.
Jay nods reluctantly, and Jake is instantly out of the room and able to breathe the biggest sigh of relief in his life. It’s insane how he’d rather be with you over his own childhood best friend, but whatever. Life works in mysterious ways or something.
And as Jay sits in silence, glaring at the spot on the bed where you had his best friend’s dick in your hand, all he can do is feel angry.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You hear the soft knock on your door and already know exactly who it is. It’s not Jay, it’s not his father, and it’s certainly not your mother.
The knock is gentle, almost reluctant despite knowing he’s allowed to walk into your room at any point, without so much as asking.
“Come in.” You smile to yourself, trying to push the awkward situation that just happened out of your mind.
The door opens and Jake steps inside, looking to the floor and seemingly avoiding eye contact with you. Part of you wonders if it’s because he finally had the balls to let you touch his dick, but another part of you knows it’s probably because Jay just chewed his ass out for letting you do it right in front of him.
“Sorry about doing that,” You look away now, trying to deafen the silence in your room into a numbness that doesn’t feel nearly as awkward as it does right now. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of Jongseo-”
Jake immediately shakes his head at your words, sitting down on your bed and grabbing your face in his hands.
It’s a shock, actually, that only now he acts the way you expected from the beginning.
“It’s my fault.” Jake explains, holding your face to look at him. “I wanted to make you my girlfriend before we did anything more–” He continues, already leaning in to kiss you for the first time without shying away from it. “I didn’t want you to think I was just trying to fuck you.”
And man, that hit you right in the heart, especially because he said it, and then immediately kissed you before letting you answer him. As if he was afraid you’d say no or something. As if he’s trying to prove something right now.
He certainly is proving it too, surprising you in the way he’s a decent kisser though not entirely great at it. Such a confident and pretty boy seems to not have nearly as much experience with girls as he lets on. That alone was something you picked up on, because let’s be honest.
No one but Jake would get that obviously hard at a restaurant over spilled water on your tits.
And when he pulls back from the kiss, he feels elated in the way he just lied straight to Jay’s face. Promising to follow through with the deal, which also held the promise of no physical contact with you.
He really walked straight out of his best friend’s room, went to your room, and kissed you. He couldn’t be prouder of it when he pulls back, heart pounding in defiance, and looking at you for an answer.
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” Is the first thing you ask, feeling his hands fall from your face and land against both sides of your hips as you look at him. “And that’s why you let me make a fool of myself trying to get in your pants?”
You both smile before chuckling and looking away from each other at how blatant that question was, because you both know how true it is.
Only Jake knows how true it isn’t supposed to be though.
“Yeah,” He answers, looking away from you and ignoring the chill on his shoulders from the air in your room. He really should stop trying to dress like a slutty man for you, honestly. It’s no wonder you were all over him.
“I kind of don’t think it would be a good idea if I fuck my guitar teacher’s sister without at least taking her on a few date’s first, you know?”
“Hah,” You roll your eyes briefly before flopping back against your pillows and feeling the way his hands fall lower to the top of your thighs. They’re warm, and big. “You’re always around and I can’t say Jongseong has that many friends to begin with.”
Jake almost feels bad that he knows you’re right.
“Arguably, you’re probably his only friend and he would feel embarrassed knowing you don’t even see him as one to begin with.” You laugh at how sad Jay really is as a person. “Just your guitar teacher, huh?”
Someone so entitled, so fucking rude. If anything, he should know by now that his lack of friends are determined entirely by his shitty personality.
“I can see that,” Jake nods, staying put as you blink up at him from the pillows. “I mean, I like hanging out with him but I don’t necessarily like the way he talks to you. I can imagine he’d kill me if he knew I kissed you.”
You roll your eyes.
“I can assure you, Jake. He doesn’t give two fucks about me.” Your arms reach out for him, and immediately he intertwines his fingers with yours.
And it feels good for him to do. To have a girlfriend in some way, despite it not technically being real to anyone but himself and you. After all, a relationship built on a lie can’t last, can it?
Maybe he really should just stick to the plan and pull back before it’s too late. Maybe you wouldn’t even be interested in him if he didn’t act this way. Or if he didn’t dress this way. Or talk this way. Or play guitar.
How could he ever think he’s even in the right to do this to begin with? What? For two hundred a month? God, he fucked up yet, he doesn’t want to turn back now.
There’s a chance it can still work, right? He can at least enjoy the time he has with you before he inevitably has to break up with you, right?
You don’t have to know about the deal, and Jay doesn’t have to know about how he intends to break the terms of it.
…Right?
“So,” Jake finally says, looking away from you before turning and falling forward over you, keeping his fingers tightly locked with yours above your head as he lands his face in front of yours. “Will you be my girlfriend then?”
You smile shyly, looking down before making direct eye contact with him again. Noting how his lips constantly form a natural pout in silence, and the way his eyes are always so bright.
“What about when my break is over and I have to go back to campus?” You ask reluctantly, hoping that he isn’t like Sunghoon. “Are you just going to stop talking to me?”
Jake hates that he is in a position where he has to lie, going back and forth in his mind of whether to betray himself or his own best friend.
“I like you, you know?” He says, not breaking eye contact. Trying to will his words now to stick with you through the inevitable break up if that's what it comes down to. “I’d come see you every weekend.”
You smile.
“So, what? You think I’m just gonna let you be so far away all the time?” He continues, instilling a sense of comfort in your chest. “You think I’d be able to stay away from you for a whole semester? I can barely make it a few days as is.”
The way he chuckles at how silly your question sounds makes you feel…wanted? Almost needed?
And as you look up at him, with that mess of fluffy hair and big, sparkling eyes, all you can think about is how lucky you feel to have so many new people in your life this summer. Even Jay. You appreciate the fact that he brought Jake into your life, even if accidental.
You’re happy your mom is in love, happy that his father appears to be good for her, happy that Jake is here right now, treating you like a goddamn person.
Happy that Sunghoon hasn’t texted you.
Happy that even Jay encourages you to keep your break-up status with the man, showing that he cares on some level for your well being.
“You’re too good to be true, you know?” You say, sending Jake into an absolute world or happiness.
He’s never had a girl tell him that. Let alone a girl so fucking pretty.
“That still doesn’t answer the question, babe.” He finally says, ticking his tongue as if he’s being cheeky.
“Oh, right.” You roll your eyes with a smile. “I thought I was being obvious with my answer, but I forgot that you’re kind of dumb.” You add with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against his nose.
“I am kinda dumb, aren’t I?”
If only you knew how true that statement is. No GPA can explain why he feels so stupidly attracted and attached to you. He can’t explain it to anyone but you.
Jay would kill him if he knew how real he wants this to be.
“A little, yeah.” You laugh, kissing his cheek this time.
“For you, at least.” He whispers, feeling like he’s being far more real than he should be and loving every second of it. “So, be my girlfriend.”
You roll your eyes again, lending him an even brighter laugh.
“You seriously think I wouldn’t?”
And he just smiles, dipping down to kiss you again for the second time.
You can’t help but feel elated by it, and the way he seems to break how eager he’s been for this. Elated by the fact that he waited, and he has done nothing but respect you as a person.
Arguably, you don’t think you could ever refuse to be his girlfriend. With that rough fashion sense and entirely too-soft personality. It’s such a stark contrast when you think about it.
All of the cocky dirty talk, all of his boldness? It was clearly just a front that would make you like him because this is not at all what you expected. If anything, it’s a pleasant surprise that he did that for you. Showing off, trying to get your attention, then flipping on a dime when you give him the time of day.
“You’re a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be.” You finally whisper out. “Honestly, I expected you to fuck the lights out of me and never call back the first day we met.”
Jake chuckles, trying to avoid how much that statement turns him on because on instinct he knows he shouldn’t be doing this.
“Can I be honest?” He asks against your lips, lending a small lick to the bottom one with a nod. “I really, really, wanted to.”
You pause, opening your eyes and seeing that he’s already looking at you.
“I would have called you though.” He smiles, calming the immediate insecurity you felt about his statement.
Now though? The thought of knowing Jake wanted to fuck you since day one only drives you to like him more than you already did.
“Oh yeah?” You smile, feeling his fingers release from yours and move right back to your hips. “Does it make me a bad person to say I would have let you?”
Jay would have called you a slut again over that.
“No, babe.” He shakes his head with an amazed chuckle. “If that makes you a bad person, wouldn’t it make me a bad person too?”
Wow, the first man to ever speak to you as an equal.
Jay would probably call him a slut too.
“What about now, then?”
God, Jake really can’t resist. He’s already waited so long, and now that you’re officially his girlfriend…kind of, why should he? Jay doesn’t need to know that he’s trying to think up some way to get out of the deal. Really, Jay should be happy that you’ll be with someone who actually cares for you, right?
After all, this whole plan was to help you.
Why should it matter if it ends a little bit differently? All he needs to do is sit him down and talk to him. All he needs to do is not accept any more money, right? Technically, Jay isn’t the type to be that bad of a person. Like, he wouldn’t actually be mad that Jake caught feelings, right?
He’s not breaking the rules if it’s true.
“If you can be quiet–” Jake says, leaning back and glancing around the room. “Jay was really mad about what happened in his room, I don’t want him to kick my ass thinking I came in here and railed his sister.”
You roll your eyes.
“Jay doesn’t give a shit. He probably thinks we’ve already been fucking.”
God, the dynamic between you and your step brother is so fucking weird, Jake thinks. You have such a weird view of him, and he seems to have such a weird view of you. You really think Jay doesn’t give a shit while he’s the one who seems entirely too protective of you while also being an absolute scum-bag towards you.
“Still,” Jake pauses, pulling back entirely and sitting over you. “I’d rather your parents not walk in.”
“Then, lock the door?” You offer, eyes scanning his body and noting the way he’s always hard when he’s with you. Those tight jeans do nothing to save him the embarrassment, and part of you wonders how often he wore them on purpose.
Plus, you can imagine he’s probably suffering after having already played with him briefly in Jay’s room.
“Right. Doors have locks on them.” Jake dead-pans, standing up and wincing at the way his cock is entirely too obvious about what he wants to do right now. “I’ll just–” He points his thumb to your door before locking it and practically leaps back on the bed with you, laughing all the way.
And you know, the last thing Jake expected today was to share his first real touch with you, first real kiss with you, or his first time actually, like, pushing to break the rules. He’s a little nervous, seeing as how he’s maybe had sex with two girls in his entire life, but still.
He can’t possibly be bad at it, right?
It doesn’t process in his mind how he’s absolutely breaking boundaries right now, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care. The way you laugh along with him sets his heart aflame, and the way you look at him shows him that this could be real. He could truly be your boyfriend, slowly reverting back to his normal self under the guise of a “bad boy” phase or something.
And now, as you look at him, you note how soft he truly is despite all of those dirty words he said previously. He’s really just sitting on your bed, laughing like a boy in love and it makes you feel entirely different than how Sunghoon makes you feel.
“It’s nice, you know?” You say, glancing down when you reach out to him again, mostly to resume the position and pull him back on top of you.
“Hm?” He hums, following the pull and landing both of his hands on either side of your head, staring down at you as if he could eat straight through your chest and to your heart. “What is?”
“The fact that there’s someone here for me, I guess?”
Ah, he’s a goner. Sorry Jay, the deal is over.
“Do you think Sunghoon will try to get you back again?” Jake follows up. “You know I won’t let him, right? You’re my girlfriend now.”
You smile, lifting your head a bit to kiss his plush top lip before shaking your head.
“I’m sure he’ll try, but I don’t think I’m interested in him anymore,” You start, hearing the buzzing in the air due to the pure electric feeling in the room. “Now that I’ve met you, anyway.”
This is the point in which Jake is supposed to move back from you. This is when he’s supposed to whisper to Jay that the deal is done, and that Sunghoon is no longer an issue. This is the point that Jake absolutely shouldn’t be rolling off you, feeling your soft pillows hug around his head, and pulling you on top of him instead.
It’s like you’re meant to straddle him with how perfect you look right now.
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, losing the persona he’s supposed to have, unable to pretend like he isn’t smitten at this moment.
“Yeah.” You say, smiling on top of him and feeling his length pulse beneath you.
You’ve wanted to get on him like this so bad, since the very first night you met him. He waited, he respected you, and now? He’s your boyfriend. He’d let you, right?
“You seem happy,” You rock back on him without warning, listening closely to the way he sighs out at the pressure you offer. “You said if I can be quiet, right?”
He nods eagerly, unable to speak as he watches you move on him, hands reaching to brush the tufts of his dark hair out of his face.
“Can’t make any promises, Jake–” You add, reaching down to the hem of your shirt and lifting it off of you in one motion. “What about you?”
Jake is stunned audibly. You heard his breathing hitch when your shirt blinded you from looking at him for a split second. And who could blame him? He knows he’s staring at the way your tits bounce with just the small lift of your shirt, bulging only partly over the lining of one of the cups.
Immediately he throws one hand up, cupping one in his hand and bucking his hips upward at the ping of arousal centering itself in his body.
“Can you be quiet?” You continue playfully, placing your hand over his and the other behind you, unclasping the bra with ease and letting it fall onto his chest.
Jake immediately shakes his head because, no. Absolutely not. He will not be able to be quiet if any of his jerk off sessions regarding you are anything to go by. In fact, this situation could be quite telling about his lack of experience with women. This situation could be quite fucking telling to anyone outside of this room, actually.
“I thought not,” You smile, reaching down and lifting slightly to remove his ratty old t-shirt. “I don’t care if Jongseong hears anyway. He’s a weirdo, would probably be jealous.”
Jake would like to think you’re wrong about that, but something inside of him agrees with you. The way Jay reacts towards you is fucking weird and ultimately uncalled for. Then again, if Jake had to come home to a brand new sister, who is like– really hot, Jake would probably have a dilemma on his own.
Still, that’s kinda gross if it’s the case, so he tries not to think about it.
“Let him hear then.” Jake finally says, confidence boosted solely because he is now thinking with his dick.
His hands fall straight to your waist once you get his shirt off of him, his eyes stay glued to your tits, and all he can do is push and pull you over his length, praying that these tight jeans don’t rub him raw before he gets to pull it out.
You can tell his body is acting on its own too, with the way he seems entirely gone for you over something so basic in terms of foreplay. After all, this is just grinding. It’s just tits. But you get it, as you stare directly at his toned body that has remained partially hidden from you until now.
And it’s the way you’re just as shameless as he is when it gets hot and heavy. Your lips don’t leave his for the most part after that, at least until you hear his muffled moans as you’re soaking straight through your shorts and onto him.
Both of you are kind of moaning into the kiss actually, and to you it sounds so loud, but you’re sure no one in the home has realized yet. Plus, locks. Doors have locks, so even if they did, you wouldn’t stop anyway.
You can feel the way Jake wants to push, how he’s thinking a mile a minute in the way he kisses you. His tongue seems eager and messy, trying to kiss every part of you, trying to lick and taste your mouth in ways Sunghoon wouldn’t even do.
Arguably, it’s sexy that he does this. So messy and dominating in the kiss despite being worse at it than he was when he came into the room. There’s something about the confidence in being bad at living life that turns you on. He could be bad at everything and you think you’d still want this with him.
Even the way he moves you on his length is messy and not at all thought out. It’s jerky and almost frantic in the way he thrusts up out of time with your movements, like he’s chasing a consistent pressure on the whole of his cock. And like, if he wants that, maybe he should just pull it out for you.
After all, even with the messy boy lying under you, kissing you like he’s desperate for it, you’re still wetter than you’ve ever been with another person.That’s an honest truth you can come to terms with too. Someone obviously so inexperienced? How does he make it feel better than Sunghoon’s expert hands? Fuck if you know, but you can’t help but love every second of how Jake writhes under you.
He acts like he’s never felt so good in his life, and that alone makes you feel entirely needed.
“Let me,” You say in a wet whisper against his lips, sliding your hand down between your bodies and attempting to undo his pants. “Jake, take them off.” You whine shortly after, unsuccessful with unbuttoning them on your own.
“God, fuck, yeah, okay.” He responds frantically, out of breath.
He lifts up, feeling you shift on his lap as you stay in place to your best ability and his eyes don’t leave yours when he undoes his own pants, blinking up with a pretty, glassy gaze and messy dark hair.
All you can do in that moment is hug his head into your chest due to the sheer amount of endearment he gives you, brushing your fingers through his hair and halting his hands where they stay on his undone jeans. There, you grind, hiccuping what resembles a moan solely because he is genuinely just so fucking attractive. You can’t help it, you really can’t.
He’s in awe of the way you use him, hugging his face against your tits, which only allows him to attach his mouth to one of them and moan himself at what you’re doing to him. God, sign him up if this is how you fuck. Holding a person in place, grinding against them, smothering them with your pretty tits, moaning the whole time? He could give you everything. He wants to give you everything. All of him, all of the world, every shiny trinket that’s ever been made.
Honestly? It doesn’t even matter that he couldn’t get his cock out yet, this is something he’s never had a girl do to him and it makes him feel entirely wanted. It’s an addicting feeling too, knowing that you’re chasing the feeling of what he has to offer under these restricting pants, and not being able to wait for it.
“Babe–” Jake mumbles around your nipple, trying to fumble his pants down but being unable to, considering you’re grinding on his lap right now. “Baby, let me get it out–”
It’s kind of insane how you could have gotten off from doing this, fully clothed, fully ready to do it. But, he’s right, and that deep register of his raspy voice only drives you to pull off of him as quickly as you can.
“Mm, sorry, you’re just so,” You start, falling off of his lap and spreading your legs open to show him the wet spot on your shorts. “Shit.” You stop yourself, seeing the way he freezes upon seeing how you display yourself to him.
“Shit.” Jake follows up the same words, not even caring how stupid he must look trying to kick these death-grip skinny jeans off of him.
You do stifle a little chuckle at that blatant show of arousal from him, and you do him a solid by removing your shorts too, heart pounding and face warm when you see his cock spring free once he finally gets the pants down his thighs.
Honestly, you don’t even let him take them off in full before you’re shoving him back to your pillows and smiling at the way he gives you a kind of half-drowsy smirk. You watch his eyes stare you down and you can tell he likes what he sees probably about as much as you do.
“You look so nice in my bed,” You start, crawling over him and grabbing his hand, putting it straight between your legs. “I’ve thought about you every night.”
His eyes roll back in a glorious show of how much of a loser he truly is. A loser for you in full right now, as he feels the wettest part of you yearn for him. His fingers slip and slide so easy, and he plays with your folds in an instant. Drenching his fingers to the point that his own leaking cock wishes you’d do the same for him.
“Me too.” He says, unable to string together a full sentence. “All night.”
You tick your tongue and coo out at him, feeling the way his fingers are gentle, staring down at the way his cock flexes every few seconds.
“What do you think about?” You ask now, crawling over his legs and leaning down to blow against his cock. You see it twitch and stand proudly at the feeling of your warm breath hitting it. “I’ll tell you, if you tell me.”
His fingers can no longer reach the wettest part of you with the way you’ve moved on him, but he doesn’t mind considering when he looks down, you’re smiling at him with his length inches from your face. He chews against his bottom lip at the image before slipping his fingers into his mouth, tasting what could be if you’d let him.
“Nothing as good as this.” He manages to get out from around his fingers as he stares down at you, elated by how he would never let another man experience this from you.
You smile, nodding at the way he doesn’t lie before you lightly tap two fingers at the head of his cock, feeling the precum dribble with each tap enough that it’s almost dripping down his length. You focus on it only for a moment before you use the wet to coat his length in one long stroke.
Another beautiful groan from him, fingers still wedged in his mouth as his eyes roll back again. Then, he’s rolling his head forward, looking down at how your hands grip him, and how your lips look so pretty when you kiss the underside of his length. God, it feels like he’s neglected himself despite jerking off every night to this exact image. Or rather, something that resembles this but could never feel as heavenly.
And when you trail your lips down, kissing against his heavy and cum-filled sack, you feel his entire body flinch in sensitivity and a chuckled moan come from him.
“Sorry–” he mumbles, reaching a hand down to brush against your cheek when you come back up to look at him. “No one has ever done that to m-”
“I’d do just about anything to you right now.” You cut him off, licking against the head of his cock and enveloping his entire length.
He has no words, but so, so many thoughts. Would you really? Anything? Goddamn, he would do anything to you too. Not just right now, but any time. All you’d need to do is ask. All you’d need to do is push him down and sit on him.
And it’s kind of cute really, how he speaks with his body alone. The way his hands grip anything he can get ahold of when you continue to take his cock further and further into your mouth. Up until the size of it is restricting your airways and he’s stuttering against the sheets with a death grip.
He could come right now if he isn’t careful, and he does his best to hold off.
His grip stays tight against your sheets when you breathe through your nose and flex your tongue against the underside of his cock, the weight of his length making it nearly impossible to do. It’s great, actually, how he doesn’t fuck into your throat and render you unable to utilize your own skills to please him.
The sweet, salty flavor of his precum is constant until you take him in too deep to taste it, and when you flick your eyes up, you can see that he’s amazed by how you do this. Part of you wonders if he’s ever been deepthroated at all, with the way he appears to breathe through it and tries to feel each clench of your throat.
God, your mouth is so tight around him too. So warm, tight, and perfect for him. With the way your lips stretch and your cheeks hollow out. He can’t bear to stare at you for too long when you’re doing this. Already he’s trying to hold in moans far too loud, already he knows that one right clench around him, he’s not going to last.
And you love it. Quite literally, you are in love with the way he seems to struggle through the pleasure. So blatant and unashamed of how much he likes what you’re doing. Because honestly? Most men act like you could do more, most act as if you’ll never give the best head of their life.
Jake though? He makes you feel like you’re the only person who could render him a whimpering mess. Part of you wonders if he even knows how loud he’s already being. With his rasps and grunts, with his higher pitched sounds coming from his chest and forcing their way out of his wet and bitten lips.
He really looks like this is where he belongs. Against your pillows, in your bed, cock out, eyes rolled back, hair cute and fluffed out against your pillows.
You pull back slightly when your eyes threaten to become too wet to see him, easing the tension in your throat with each inch of his length that leaves you. And when you fully pull off of him with a pretty and wet little “pop!” sound, he regains all of his composure and stares right at you.
“Holy fuck–” He says with a heaving breath.
“Jake,” You start, clearing your throat before using your hand to gently jerk him off, lips landing against the head of his cock again as you speak. “You kind of act like a virgin, which is funny considering all of the things you said to me before.”
You smile as you say the words, precum still coating your lips.
He lends you a crooked smile, feeling entirely like himself in this moment and not at all ashamed of his lack of experience. He would think that comment would scare him, like he’s doing bad or something. But the way your hand works his cock is just enough to tell him that you love it.
“‘M not a virgin.” He says, voice uneven. “But I can’t say I’ve fucked that many girls.”
That elates you. The fact that he’s so real about it. The idea that he held off with you for a reason that didn’t involve disinterest. It’s almost like he prefers sex to mean something, which is a long forgotten concept to you and anyone else in your life it seems.
“That’s hot.” You comment, halting your hand at the base of his cock before releasing it entirely and crawling further up to straddle him right where you want him.
If he wasn’t already gone for you, he is now. He can feel the warmth of your pussy sit against his already sensitive and needy cock and it takes everything in him not to groan out.
And well, he appears to have zero control of his volume because he does, in fact, groan out.
Loud enough to probably alert the person who he wishes didn’t exist right now.
You moan back at his desperate action, wiggling your hips as if to dig his cock into your thigh, smearing the mess seeping through your panties onto him.
“All this time, I thought about how you could hold me down,” You start, noting how he is nothing like how you imagined he would be. “How you could fuck me hard, and deep,” You slide forward and back a little quicker now, letting the head of his cock bump your clit. “How you could ruin me if you wanted to.”
You’re the one ruining him though. You both know it.
“It looks like I was wrong about those thoughts though, wasn’t I?” You smile at his panic when he shoots his eyes open.
“No!” Jake half-moans, louder than he meant to once again. “I can do that.”
You wouldn’t have believed him if it weren’t for the fact that he definitely tries, lifting from your pillows and tipping you back onto your mattress. Before you even know it, your panties are off of you and he’s grabbing your legs, moving them to wrap around his waist.
Then he just stares at you with flushed cheeks and wet lips.
“I can do anything you want.” He continues, snaking his hands under your ass just to lift your lower half against the underside of his cock. “You want me to hold you down? Fuck you hard?”
You nod, eyes sparkling up at him with a pleased sound at how he shifts who he is entirely for you. Thirty seconds ago you wouldn’t have expected him to change up like this, and it’s only lends you more to like about him.
“Hold onto me, then.” He gives a gentle warning, wishing he could have like, ate you out first or something, but he’s too far gone now to imagine doing anything other than what you ask of him. He can get his head between your thighs another time, yes. He can lick you clean, making sure you know how much he wants you.
And you do, you hold onto him, legs around his waist, hands in his hair, feeling the weight of his cock sit against your wet folds while his hands hold you in place.
And it’s like, woah. Okay, you already experienced how big he is but feeling it there is another thing. He’s quick to stuff your blanket up under you to keep you lifted, and then he’s immediately using one free hand to press down on your stomach, and the other holding his cock as he slides it himself through your folds.
He stares down at the way his length looks between your heat, so wet and glistening from the mix of arousal the two of you drip out. You wish you could see it too, with the way he wets his lips and keeps the bottom one caught between his teeth.
And when you moan, his eyes flick up to your face, so innocent looking at this moment despite your kissed lips and heaving breath. Tits on full display, pussy spread out around his cock, god. He’s in heaven. He can most definitely hold you down and fuck you deep, it’s like he was born to do it, if he’s being honest.
And then, in one movement, he pushes his cock down with his thumb and slides in, bottoming out in one motion while keeping his eyes on your face. With the way your jaw is slack, and your eyes close in pleasure.
He does much the same, holding his breath as he feels the way your soft walls hug around him, strangling his length in a way he truly needed. You’re so tight, god, so, so, so wet. At this point, he’s not even doing it because you are asking him to, he’s doing it because he can’t help it. His body loses composure the second he bottoms out and feels the entirety of how much this pussy wants him.
Jake doesn’t let you adjust, hell, barely even lets himself adjust before there's an echo of his thighs meeting the flesh of your ass. Consistent, deep, hard. Just like you wanted.
Just like he needed.
And it gets to the point where Jake is burying himself so deep, that you can barely make out words. Moaning his name in hiccups, trying to say something but always stopping short of it.
“J-Ja-J.” You hiccup through each thrust, waiting for him to kiss you, wanting him to kiss you, wanting him to ruin you like you asked, like he promised.
And when Jake is out of breath, listening to that pretty little stuttered mantra of his name, he does lean down to kiss you. Tongue immediately licking against yours to the point that he swears he feels little dribbles of desperate saliva leave the corners of his mouth.
All of it is hot breath, wet, wet, fucking wet. All over.
His hips move faster, and he drives his cock in deeper, his moans only come out louder with each stutter of his name, and honestly? The death grip your legs have on him, keeping him from pulling out of you too far? He has no idea how he’s lasted this long already, but he loves himself a little more knowing that he’s making you feel good.
“Yeah,” He grunts out, pulling one hand back to hold your leg tightly against him, and the other falling on his elbow above your head. He makes direct eye contact with you here, just inches from your face as he speaks with full confidence. “Say my name,” He says almost defiantly. Hoping Jay hears it and knows how good he can be for you. “I’ve been dying to hear you say it like this.”
His thrusts somehow remain consistent as you shoot your hand to your clit, rubbing harshly at his words. You give him exactly what he wants, moaning his name in full against his lips with a desperate and bitten kiss from you, all while your pussy practically strangles the base of his cock with each deep thrust.
His moan sounds relieved when you repeat his name, he swallows your hiccups up, proud that despite how fucking bad he probably is at fucking, you seem to love it.
And when you rub against your clit just right, feeling his abdomen press your fingers against it harder, you continue his name.
Breathing it out in a gasp before your orgasm hits you and he somehow manages to fuck you straight through it. His stuttered name coming out with each slam, never quite able to moan it in full again once you’re seeing stars.
And when your ears pop, and your eyes feel tired, you look at him.
You feel him.
His cock moving desperately in and out of you, the sweat on his brow proving to you how much he wanted to do this to you and for you.
He wants it so bad.
He wants you so bad.
You reach up, feeling the sweat in his hairline when you run your fingers through the mess of hair on his head and push his face down. Your legs fall from around him, and instantly he’s moaning.
“You don’t need to pull out.”
“Fuck–” He stutters, hips meeting your thighs once more before you feel him release strings of thick cum in you. Amazed by that single sentence, half-not even realizing a condom was nowhere in sight anyway. He doesn’t know if he could have pulled out to begin with but the words of encouragement shoot his orgasm straight through him.
And the way he moans through it with uneven breaths? Perfect. He sounds perfect. The way saliva dribbles from the sides of his mouth as his lips desperately kiss against your neck and shoulders? More perfect.
The way he pulls back to look at you after the fact? Twitching inside of you, unmoving, and not pulling out? God.
The two of you lay like this for a while, his cum bubbling out of you from around his sensitive and softened length by the time he finally decides to pull out. Which saddens him a little bit because he hates that he can’t have his cock in you at all times, but still.
And then the panic washes over him. There’s no fucking way Jay doesn’t know what he just did, and the fact that there were no harsh knocks on your door? That’s even more scary.
His heart rate picks up instantly, but you somehow calm him as you continue running your hands through his hair, down to the back of his neck and scratching.
It’s like he mewls at the feeling, nuzzling against you as close as he can get before sighing.
“Jay is going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin with closed eyes.
You hum out a small chuckle, feeling the sticky mess between your legs and somehow not feeling as grossed out as you normally would by this.
“Jongseong isn’t going to do shit.” You smile, shifting to sit up and feeling more cum drip out of you. “I actually can’t wait to see the look on his face when I drag you to shower with me.”
Jake panics internally but he can’t stop himself from smiling at you with a nod.
And he does follow you into the bathroom. Straight past the bedroom of his glaring best friend with the wide open door.
He pretends to not hear the way the door slams when the two of you get into the bathroom, and desperately begins thinking of a way to make this work out for the better.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay heard all of it. Every slap of a cock driving into you, every breath, moan, giggle, and every fucking dirty word the two of you shared.
He tries not to think of the way he slouched against his bedroom door, straining his ears to hear all of it too. He tries not to think of how his hand could never live up to whatever the fuck you were doing to Jake either.
Time and time again he could get off to the thought of you, but each time it just becomes more and more unbearable to see you face to face after. This time? Having to hear you with someone else? Someone that he, himself, was supposed to trust? It’s the most unbearable, and it hurts him inside to know that you liked it.
It isn’t fair that he was stuck, alone against his door, biting back moans of a situation he hated more than anything. His best friend was in there fucking the daylights out of the only girl Jay has ever wanted like this, and all he could do was fuck his fist and release a half-sobbed moan in his own silence over it?
Honestly, the orgasm hit him harder than he’s ever felt when he heard you moaning the name of his best friend. The stuttered breaths of Jake’s unfinished name sounded just like his name, and his brain went insane wondering if that’s what you’d sound like if his cock was pounding you.
Would you stutter like that for him? Would you moan out his name in such a pretty way too?
“Jay! Jay! Jay!”
It replayed in his mind over and over again up until he saw the two of you in the hallway. Jake appeared to be ashamed to look at him, avoiding his gaze.
Jay felt pathetic, angry, and entirely empty. Jake fucked up big time, betraying his trust just minutes after promising the opposite. There is so much shame within him right now, but none of it lives up to the fucking rage he feels towards Jake.
Never in his life has he ever felt so betrayed by not one person, but two. As if you knew you had such a hold on him to betray him at all, but still. It pisses him off more than anything that he still has to hear the two of you in the bathroom now, unashamed of what just happened behind your closed bedroom door like your parents aren’t just downstairs and probably aware of what their slut child was doing.
He seethes for what feels like hours. All the way until Jake slinks out of your room after the parents went to bed, and into the night without a word to him.
Days, even. As the sounds of you fucking Jake haunts him.
What’s worse? Jake ignores his texts even when he’s being nice. Inviting him over for a “lesson”, begging him to come talk, saying he isn’t angry he just wants to know where the deal stands. He ignores him even on his payday, which arguably, Jay wasn’t going to pay him this time but as a bribe to get him to talk to him? Of course he texted him again.
And with the way you’re leaving every other night, Jay can tell it’s because you’re going to see him outside of his control. Likely because Jake suggested it, and no part of him feels thankful that he can’t hear what the two of you are up to behind his back.
He could rip his hair out at this point, when each family dinner feels empty and filled with disgust. Looking at you and wondering what it must have felt like for Jake to get between those thighs that seem to open for just any man that would lie to you. You eat quietly, sometimes shooting him a happy smile as if you can’t tell that he’s rotting in front of you over the fact that you’re happy with someone that isn’t him.
He can barely look at you when you’re home without the thoughts flooding his brain, rendering him jealous and resentful of everyone in his life whether they’re involved in this situation or not. He doesn’t hold back remarks each time you come back home either, bright eyes with a sex glow surrounding you.
“Out spreading your legs again, I take it?” or “Can never get fucked enough, can you?”
He says them proudly to you, as if it’s any indication that he likes you far more than Jake ever could. But, to his dismay, you look happier and brush him off without a single furrowed brow or argument. You’ve been nicer, and you even walk with better posture now.
He wishes you would argue with him about how untrue his words are, but you don’t. Which renders him only further angry because you don’t deny it, and that you agree with him. The issue is that Jake is on the receiving end of why those words are true.
Jay only wants them to be true if he is on the receiving end.
He wants you to spread your legs every other day for him. He wants you to never be fucked enough….by him. Not by Sunghoon. Not by fucking Jake.
And then? Three long and agonizing days after Jake’s payday, he finally texts.
Jake: we need to talk.
Jay: come over then
Jake: no, i’m not coming back to your house until we talk.
Jay: yours then?
Jake: yeah
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Things were instantly awkward for Jay when he stepped through Jake’s door. It’s like he could tell you’ve been here recently by the feeling in the room alone. You always leave a room so alluring, so stupidly bright.
Jake even appears happier, much like you do when he manages to take note of how you act back at home.
Still, Jay doesn’t come too far into the house out of fear he may very well end up breaking things if it comes down to it. Instead, he stands in the doorway, shoes still tied on his feet, eyes still heavy with an exhaustion that only he can explain.
“I know you know what’s been going on,” Jake starts, raising his hands in defense as if to try and save both his friendship and new relationship. “I want you to know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but it did, and I want to at least tell you that I’d treat her right.”
Jay stares forward, feeling his imaginary monarchy fall. His gaze goes straight through Jake and to the room behind him as he listens to him say words that any sibling would love to hear. All he can feel right now is buzzing, goosebumps on his skin threatening his sanity over the fact that he's always gotten everything he ever wanted, except for you.
And he didn’t even want you like this until he knew he couldn’t have you.
“You promised me.” Jay starts with a harsh tone in his voice. “You went straight into her room and started fucking her? And now you have the audacity to ask me if you can date her?!” He bites out with angry brows, now clenching his fists.
Jake should have known better than to think he would be reasonable about this, given how he’s acted throughout the entire situation. Still, he’ll never stop thinking how fucking weird it is. How Jay is entirely protective over you despite consistently making sexual remarks, staring for a little too long, paying a stranger to date you just so you get away from your ex boyfriend.
For all Jake knows, if it wasn’t for you confirming the situation, he could argue Jay would have made up lies about Sunghoon being a bad boyfriend too.
Jay is jealous and Jake fucking sees it.
“You literally paid me to date her. So what if I actually want to be with her now? Why is that such a bad thing?!” Jake retorts, throwing his hands up as if everything Jay is saying doesn’t make any sense to a normal person.
Which is true.
“I paid you to pretend, not to actually want her!” Jay raises his voice again, despite being in Jake’s home, despite being his long time childhood friend. Over all, trying to appear more threatening as a means to regain his control.
“I don’t understand why you’re not okay with this.” Jake starts, much calmer than Jay. “What? You're gonna keep her from dating anyone ever again?”
Jay stands down at those words, knowing that if he could he would. Knowing that it must be incredibly telling to Jake, who isn’t as stupid as he acts.
“Why? You’re mad because you can’t be with her? And if you can’t, then no one can?” Jake adds with a smile.
Immediately Jay storms up to him, fisting Jake’s shirt collar in his hand.
“You think I want to be with trash like her?” He seethes out in a hot whisper, body telling on him in the way his words don’t match the defensive stance he takes. “I just don’t want you fucking my sister.”
“The deal is off, Jay.” Jake says in an even calmer tone, almost smiling. “Besides, I already fucked her.”
Jay intensely stares at him, anticipating the next word Jake says ending in a swift punch to the jaw.
“Multiple times.”
That breaks him.
What he thought would end in a physical altercation appears to be ending in his own begging. His own self-pity at how sad he is for himself over this overtakes every thought in his head. He is desperate to get you, and desperate to make sure Jake leaves and never comes back.
“I’ll pay you double what i’ve already paid to break up with her.” He bribes. “Triple.”
“You can’t just keep her, she doesn’t want you.” Jake continues, pressing all of the buttons of a friend he used to trust with his life. “She doesn’t even like you.”
Jay stands there, releasing the grip on Jake’s shirt and taking a step back. He knows Jake is right, and he hasn’t done anything to make you like him either, but still. Why does everyone else get parts of you that he can’t have?
“Jake, you’re misunderstanding.” He tries to reply in a calmer voice. “I’ve known her since freshman year and I’ve watched her get hurt. I don’t want anyone around her.”
Jake laughs at him. And honestly? It shocks Jay with the way his friend has changed in just a matter of weeks. It’s the fact that it’s his fault.
“You’re fucking weird, dude.” Jake continues to laugh. “You know me better than anyone and you don’t even want her to be with me? Of all people?”
Jay listens, trying to ignore how his truth has to come about another way. If Jake wants a fight over you, so be it.
“Sunghoon? Yeah, I get it but, the fact that you won’t even let me be with her? When is it what she wants?”
“Break up with her, this is my final warning.” Jay dead-pans.
“Or what?”
Jay stands there, directly in front of a friend he just threw away over a girl. Staring at him with such immense hate in his eyes that even Jake feels a shiver run down his spine.
He says nothing when he shoves past Jake and walks straight out the front door, only speaking before closing it with a “You have a week to break it off.”
Jake rolls his eyes at the words, shrugging at the situation despite knowing the sadness of losing a friend will hit sooner or later. Really though? Deep down, Jake knew that Jay had a thing for you after the way he’s been acting.
And it’s like, Jake knew he was bad at talking to girls but at least he doesn’t call them sluts and whores, or make them think he would rather be run over by a fucking tank than to say anything nice to them.
What’s worse is that he gets it. You’re entirely likable, lovable even, and it’s going to take a lot more than a couple of threats to pull Jake away from you. Likewise for Jay it seems. Step-siblings aside, there’s no way Jay didn’t have a crush on you before you became his step sister. Anyone would have a crush on you.
Still. That’s weird, and there’s nothing Jay can do to have you. With or without Jake, you’d never want him after the way he spoke to you. You’d never fuck family, nor would you ever be interested in a guy like him anyway.
At least with Jake’s false persona, he acted more like his true self than he meant to when he was around you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A week goes by and there is no word of Jake ending it with you.
In fact, you’re still leaving every other night to see him, coming home with a little bounce in your step and a stupid fucking smile on your face. Jay can’t stand it anymore.
He thought a week was him being nice. Giving Jake, who he still cares about, mind you, enough time to come to terms that this will never work if Jay is around. Once again though, Jake didn’t listen. The once lost and intelligent guy now appears to know exactly what he wants in life and it’s so fucked up to Jay that it just so happens to be his girl.
A girl that isn’t really even his, and the only ownership he has over you is a title that makes him want to gag.
Step-sister.
Jay has come to terms by now that he is willing to end his longest friendship over you. He is willing to defy his own moral standards for you. He is willing to love you, touch you, and be anything you need. The only issue is the fact that he’s already fucked it up for himself.
Jake was right in saying you don’t even like him. Not as a friend, not as a step-brother, and certainly not as a boyfriend. It truly is his own fault too, but things can change.
And they will change.
“Why do you act like Jake is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Jay asks, leaning against the frame of your bedroom door with his arms crossed.
“Oh, am I?” You look down shyly, smiling because you can’t stop. “I guess I didn’t notice.”
Jay lends a short nod and a smile to himself, feeling more and more calm as the seconds pass and he steps into your room.
You, on the other hand, are elated tonight solely because of the date Jake took you on just the day before. He was so sweet, and so nice. Even going as far as eating you out in his car simply because he couldn’t resist, and missed you too much in the twenty four hour span of not seeing you previously.
You wish you could talk about it with Jay, you wish you could thank him for bringing Jake into your life and let whatever fucked-up relationship you have with him die so that it can be replaced with something more pleasant.
“Thank you, by the way.” You say meekly as he enters and wanders around your room, staring at several of Jake’s shirts hanging in your closet.
“Hm?” Jay responds off handedly, reaching into the closet to feel one of your soft t-shirts.
“Thank you for letting me meet Jake. I was shocked that day you invited me to eat with you guys, so I assumed it was to help with the whole Sunghoon situation. It did help, you know?” You smile fondly, thinking of your boyfriend and how nice he looks when he’s holding your hand.
“Ah–” Jay turns to look at you, letting one of your soft shirts fall from a hanger so that he can run his fingers through his hair with a stressed look up at your ceiling.
You watch as he takes in a deep sigh before hanging his head.
“Listen, I have something to tell you about Jake.” He finally says, walking to your door and closing it before sitting on your bed and looking at you with a serious expression.
“What is it?” You tilt your head at him.
He watches your face of confusion, seeing how heavy the feelings are that you’ve managed to grow for a man you were never meant to have feelings for. The way you swallow around a lump in your throat shows him that you’re going to listen to him, and possibly believe him.
For the first time, Jay isn’t going to be lying to you about Jake either.
“Jake is only dating you for the money I give to him every month.” Jay admits, knowing you’re about to bombard him with questions as to why he’s paying Jake to do it.
“What?” You question again, dead-pan staring at him.
“I paid him to date you because I trusted him not to be like Sunghoon, and you seemed really hurt by what happened.”
“What?!” You echo yourself, furrowing your brows at Jay and the way it’s the first time he’s ever looked at you in such a soft way. “How much?!”
“Two hundred a month. I dropped off his last payment last Sunday.” He lies.
You pause, reminding yourself that just the Saturday before he was holding you close to him on his couch, telling you all sorts of nice things that made your heart double in size.
“He only learned to play guitar because we thought it would be your type. Jake is more of a loser than I am. If you had met him just a day earlier, you wouldn’t have looked at him twice.”
You remain silent, listening to all of this fucked up information.
“Here pretty soon, he’s supposed to break up with you.”
And now your face is hot, and your eyes are burning. All of those words Jake said to you felt entirely genuine. The way he kissed you, touched you, and even the way he looked at you felt so real and electrifying.
There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe a word Jay is saying, but there’s also a part of you that wonders how much of it is true. You’ve seen Jake’s room and his selection of monotone and earth tone clothing that you’ve never seen him wear before.
“I don’t believe you.” You say, crossing your arms, looking away from Jay, then sniffling. “It would be so fucked up if you really paid some guy to pretend he liked me.”
Jay shakes his head in mock sadness for you.
“I set rules, you know? He wasn’t supposed to let it get so bad. He wasn’t supposed to sleep with you or even kiss you, I know that he did though.” Jay says, reaching a hand out to yours. “I keep seeing how happy you look and can’t stand that he’s doing this to you. I just wanted to help.”
You blink up at Jay.
“Why did you care so much to help me get over Sunghoon? So much that you’d pay Jake to do this?”
“Because I didn’t want to see you be taken advantage of. I see that it was a bad idea now though, because Jake definitely took advantage of you when he could.” He looks down, still in mock sorrow for you. “I wanted to punch him so bad when I paid him last time, with his stupid shit eating grin like he’s won the lottery or something.”
“Do you–” You pause, trying to process the information. “have proof?”
Jay nods, pulling up the few text messages he and Jake have sent about the situation.
Jay: do you think she fell for it? you completely changed vibes bro
Jake: yeah for sure i got a date tomorrow with her
Jay: if i knew it would be this easy i wouldn’t be paying you so much
Jake: money AND a girl? best deal ever.
Right then and there, upon reading those texts, the crying really does start. You question your ability to read feelings, body language, and words. You really thought Jake meant everything he said, and over all you’re just learning that…well, he’s a great liar.
“I know what I did was wrong, but I’m trying to make it right.” Jay soothes, scooting closer to you and hugging you against his chest. “I’m here whether you’re mad at me or not.”
You shove him away from you initially, but he uses his strength against you to hold you against him tightly. It’s the first time Jay has ever hugged you, the first time he’s ever comforted you while simultaneously being the cause of your shattered heart right now.
“Why are you like this?” You ask in a truly pathetic voice, raspy and full of overwhelming emotion that you don’t know what to do with. “Why did you have to do that?”
Jay takes in a deep breath, readying himself for whatever reaction you could possibly give to his next, very carefully thought out words.
“Because I’ve liked you since freshman year, and now you’re my sister.” He says in a sweet whisper against the top of your head. “Because you never noticed me before, and you barely do now, but I wanted to help your situation somehow without making it weird.”
He feels you cry harder against him now, your hands gripping his shirt without intention as you try and work through the even bigger flood of information now. It’s true that you didn’t notice Jay too much, and he never indicated any type of feeling for you. He could have been your type, if he had made an attempt to get to know you, but he never did. He became your step-brother instead. One who would do nothing but ridicule you and pay men to fuck you, apparently.
And as you cry, all you can do is raise that same gripping hand and land it harshly against his chest in a punch that feels weak to him. Over and over again, and he just takes it. Sitting there hugging you against him in a way that keeps your abuse weak and pathetic as you release the emotion on him.
“I would have been able to do more for you if it wasn’t for Jake taking advantage of my own weakness.” Jay now says, trying to land the final nail in Jake’s coffin for you. “In some way, I think I would have made you happier.”
Your attempts to hit the anger out of you fall short with each passing moment as your fingers find purchase back in his shirt, and the feeling of being enveloped by an apology overtakes you in full.
You can taste your tears against his shirt, feeling sorry for yourself for dampening him like this. Feeling sorry that he likes you and knowing you don’t like him back. Feeling sorry that the only person you’ve ever felt strongly for like this, never felt a thing back for you.
You’re worth two hundred dollars to both of them.
And when you pull back, feeling Jay allow you to pull away, you just stare at him with an empty and broken expression.
Jay can’t help but think you look even prettier with a broken heart. Mostly because he knows he’s the only person here who can fix it for you. He knows exactly what’s going through his mind when he leans forward and kisses you without hesitation.
You are shocked by the action, feeling unfamiliar lips on yours for just a moment before you’re shoving him back with a grimace.
“What the fuck?!” You yelp, baffled and entirely disgusted.
Jay says nothing as he stares at you as if he’s lost his mind. His mouth is slack when he looks at you and it’s a face that very nearly scares you. Especially when he takes your face in both of his hands and does it again.
A harsher kiss, with him holding you there against his lips, running his hands down to keep your body from pushing him away again.
“Let me make it better.” He pleads in a desperate whisper between his forced kisses. “Just this once.”
You’re not sure what’s happening right now, as you sit stiffly in his grasp, feeling him plead and kiss against you like a mad man. Wondering why you’re not fighting after hearing his broken voice. Wondering if he feels just as broken as you do right now.
This is your sibling by marriage, trying to give you something that he should not be giving you. Indulging you in truth, too much truth. And maybe you’re going a little crazy too, because you just let him.
And you let him, and let him, until he’s releasing his grip on your body forcing you to stay close to him, and gently caressing your face through his one sided kisses.
“Please.” He whispers just against your lips, pulling back a few inches to look at you.
And when you look at him this time, it feels raw. That’s the only way you can describe this situation of immense loss inside of you. Forced away from someone while being totally suffocated by another who only seemed to want to hurt you before all of this.
“Jongseong, no.” You warn, not entirely understanding why you don’t fully agree with your own words right now.
Maybe it’s because you want to be wanted, or needed, or loved at this moment.
“Don’t call me that.” He whispers, leaning forward again, kissing you on the corner of your mouth. “Why won’t you let me try?”
You take in a deep breath, wondering the same thing.
Because he’s your brother?
Because he paid Jake to break you more than Sunghoon ever has?
Because you want to let him try, solely to numb yourself from everything else for the night?
“I–” You start, staring forward and straight through him. “I don’t know.”
He smiles, spreading his legs wide beside you to adjust himself solely because he got to feel your lips on his. His hands stay against your face as he looks at you through this, and notes only slightly the way you reach your hands up to grip his biceps.
“You don’t?” He asks. “Why do you throw yourself at everyone but me then?”
Those are words that should hurt you more than he already has, but they don’t. He’s not wrong. If you were more careful of the people you lend your body to for pleasure, maybe you wouldn’t continue to get hurt. Maybe everything he’s done really has taught you how to pick and choose better people.
Sunghoon, Jake, and now him.
Now him.
It feels so final, like a last hurrah of hating yourself before you decide to never let another man into your heart again. You won’t date Jay, you won’t even think of him as someone you could be with solely due to the circumstances.
But for some reason, there is something you will do and that happens to be living up to all of those insults he threw at you before. Dumb, whore, slut.
And you’ll do those things solely to make yourself feel better right now. Sex isn’t healing but when a person appears to want you this badly, it kind of is in its own way. A reminder that at least you’re wanted on some level, especially when you’re running circles in your head over what it could be that you keep doing wrong.
This time, Jay is shocked when you’re the one who leans forward, your hands falling from his biceps straight to his hands over your face. You cry when you kiss him, feeling utterly insane that you’re doing this, not knowing why you’re going to keep pushing, and absolutely ignoring that you’ll regret it.
“If you want to fuck me so bad, just do it then.” You say, more as an insult to him, yourself, and the entire situation.
What’s worse is, you said that so Jay would pull back and come back to his senses. Anyone who hears those words should know that it’s an all or nothing question. Any decent person, any selfless person would deny fucking you in this state.
And while you want him to fuck you at this point, just to prove how badly he’s wanted to, you equally wanted him to just be here for you in the way he was supposed to.
Jay doesn’t pick up on the cue though, and instead jumps right in. Kissing you back and pulling you down with him against your mattress.
The bed feels less pretty with Jay lying in it with you, but his lips work better than Jake’s did the first time he kissed you so messily. You don’t mind only because you don’t care about a single outcome at this point.
Everything bad that could happen to you has already happened.
Jay wants you to like it though. He wants you to like everything about him. Even the aspects about himself that he can’t stand. And he kisses you in a way to try and force this outcome.
Jake is still in the front of his mind though, as he takes his girl back on the same bed where Jake presumably took you away to begin with.
And you’re so pretty too, with your tear stained cheeks kissing him in an angry way. Jay couldn’t be happier that you’ll take this out on him. He deserves it, doesn’t he? To be hated? Hated enough to be kissed by you? It’s wonderful, really.
He stays like this with you for as long as he can, the fear of it stopping fizzling out with each passing minute that you only kiss harder, harder, harder. Up until he can’t stand the feeling of his cock in his pants, up until he can’t help but feel you up, relishing in your hot skin and the way you still shiver probably through the chill in your heart right now.
His hand lands under your shirt, pulling your bra down just so he can eagerly circle his fingers around one of your nipples. Thinking so hard about the tits he’s wanted to see bare for so long, feeling it perk up against his finger in reaction.
He throbs at it, even if you won’t make eye contact with him between kisses. Even if you kiss him like you mean it but clearly don’t. He’s taking what he can get, taking what you’ll give to him.
“I heard you guys, you know.” Jay says, pinching your nipple before rolling on top of you just to dig his length against your leg. “You seemed so happy to gag on him, why aren’t you like that for me?”
You ignore his words, trying not to moan at the thickness you feel in his pants. Never once have you thought about what Jay could be packing, but it’s…bigger than you probably would have expected. Feeling it against you breaks that final barrier in your brain keeping you from being entirely turned on by the lack of morals you’re sharing with him.
This is the first thing you’ve ever shared with Jay outside of an argument.
“Can you stop talking?” You ask in a huff, breath hitching when he adjusts his hips between your legs and rubs himself against the center of your heat. “It’s pissing me off.”
“Mm, I bet.” He smiles, using both hands to push your shirt and bra up to your collarbones, revealing your chest to him. He grabs both of them without hesitation, and studies the way they fit in his hand. “I’m trying to fix this right now though.” He nods to himself, smirking the same smirk he always gives you when he’s being an asshole and squeezing the tit that rests above your heart.
You’re angry that you like it. You enjoy the way he grips tighter, and ruts himself harsher against you. Almost more desperately than Jake did. Rougher, so much rougher.
“You can’t fix what’s happened.” You groan out, annoyed and equally as aroused. “So, stop trying.”
“Getting you wet can fix it.” He says, leaning back and placing both hands on your knees, spreading your legs wide. He stares at you and the dismay on your face, then down between your legs. It doesn’t take much convincing from him though, to have you bucking your hips up against your own will.
You never knew Jay could be so confident or dirty.
And when he backs up just to take off your bottoms in one swift motion, you don’t even hide your face. Because you don’t care what you look like right now, or what he sees. You’re already past the boundary and at this point your body wants what it wants.
Quite frankly, you hope he fucks the morals right out of you. You hope he fucks the emotion out of you, and renders you a shell of a person that can no longer feel pain in any capacity.
“Well, well, well.” Jay gloats as he gets back between your legs, noting how you’re already wet. Not entirely wet, but definitely turned on. “Can’t believe you’re wet for your own brother.”
You roll your eyes, wishing he’d stop focusing on that. You’re barely related. Just by marriage, anyway.
“Stop talking.” You argue.
And, well, for the first time he listens to you.
If you knew you could shut him up by putting a pussy in his mouth, perhaps you would have done this sooner. Then again, you likely wouldn’t have considered it before now.
Anything he could say to you right now is muffled, and all you can hear are groans and grunts each time he tries to lick straight into you. Through you almost. His tongue is just as harsh as everything else, neglecting your clit and going straight for what he wants in his mouth.
He licks and laps at you without shame, knees planted on the floor and fingers spreading you open against his lips. His eyes stay open though, staring up at you, only blinking slowly when he gets a taste of something particularly sweet.
You try not to reach down like you always seem to do for Jake. You really do try, but it’s like an instinct thing, you guess. You find your fingers in his hair, gripping the strands much harsher than you usually would this time.
If he’s rough, you can be rough too, right?
You drag him up by his hair, listening to his shameless moan of pleasure at how you treat him. You plant his face directly against your clit, and he’s just as harsh with his tongue against it. Flicking it, swirling his tongue around it, side to side, up and down, before he circles his lips around it and sucks with another one of his embarrassingly sexy moans.
Something about him liking this to the full extent is so good. It’s so wrong, but it’s so, so, fucking good.
And as you hold him there, his fingers slide into you as if he knows exactly how to do it. You’re shocked that he does, actually. With someone so invisible to the world to anyone but himself, he must have gotten plenty of practice in with all of the snooty book-smart girls back on campus.
You hate to admit that they’re kind of lucky. Jay is clean with it. Goes straight for the pleasure spots and doesn’t fuck around at all. Sunghoon was always messy with his fingers, smiling and playing with you and the way you’d whine for him to hit a particular spot again. Jake, on the other hand, would never know where to land his fingers, but he’d find it and keep hitting it when you’d make that one specific sound.
Jay knows where it is, and he knows he does.
You know he does.
To the point that you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips. Almost as shameless as he is, avoiding the fact that you do like this. You do like the entire situation that surrounds it. After all, you’d never get fucked like this is it wasn’t from Jay, right? If he didn’t go off and set you up for failure first, right?
Fuck Jay.
Quite literally. Fuck him for being so good at ruining everyone.
“I hate you.” You whisper between moans, already feeling the tears bubble up again. You hate him so much, and you hate everything about how he really could have been something had he tried before.
You hate that it feels so good.
You hate that he chuckles at your words, vibrating his voice against your clit and making you shiver.
You can’t stand that he can fit three fingers into you with ease, proving how wet you are for him.
And even more do you hate the way he pulls back, staring up at you as he quickens his fingers, hitting that same spot, over and over again with a filthy smirk on his glistening lips.
“Hate me all you want,” He says in a smooth voice, listening to the sounds of how wet you are gushing out and against his palm. “You seem to love what I can do for you.”
You groan out again, from deep in your chest as you try to close your legs around him, as if to push him out of you but you can feel the way he easily keeps one of your legs spread out and open, preventing the act.
And as he listens to the sounds of your body, it all clicks in his head. It’s no wonder Jake wanted to be with you so bad. The taste of you, the smell, the sounds your body emits to be fucked? He wouldn’t let anyone take you from him. Sunghoon too, no wonder he kept coming back. That girl he always fucks during the summers surely doesn’t stand a chance against you.
No one could look so sweet and sound so arousing like this but you. Not a single other person in this world could have his cock straining against his pants like this over the act of giving head. If anything, Jay hates giving head. But you’re clean.
You taste sweet.
He could eat you out for days.
“God, just fucking look at you.” He groans to himself when he stares at his three fingers plunging into you, hitting that same spot since he started.
He can feel the squeeze of your pussy around his fingers each time he drives them in deep, pushing them together. And you only squeeze more and more as he does it. He knows exactly what this means.
“Already?” He asks snidely. “Just from my fingers?”
You stay silent only because you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. Never has a man assaulted your g-spot so well before, and you’ve felt it building up this entire time. Your whole body feels weak, your eyes feel fogged over, your brain is going numb as you relish in the pleasure rather than the reality just outside of it.
“Fuck, Jay.” You manage to get out, not even shocked that you just said his name in regards to this situation.
Nothing shocks you anymore.
And it’s like music to his ears to hear you sing his name in pleasure. It’s not a stutter of Jake’s name this time. It’s really his name, and he feels so fucking elated by it. He fucks his fingers in faster through the eagerness of hearing you willingly say that to him. He even dips down, his shoulders keeping your legs open just so he can lick around the same hole his fingers are stretching out, and right there is where he wills for you to come.
He wants to feel it drip against his tongue, he wants his fingers and face to be fucking soaked in you and all of that hate you claim you have for him.
It’s not a shocker to him that you do, either. He knows how to touch a pussy, you’re not a puzzle for him. But at least your cum is sweeter than he’s ever tasted. He laps it up like a fucking dog, moaning through it as you hold your breath. Your legs shake, your cunt clenches, your clit throbs, and he’s the reason for all of it.
He works you through it so well, to the point that you’re out of breath and looking at him as if he is your boyfriend. Only now do you wish that your mother didn’t have to go off and marry his dad. You could have easily dated this asshole just for the way he gives head and uses his fingers alone.
Yeah, maybe you are a slut.
“Mm, I heard that.” He coos out, licking up the last of your orgasm before lifting and resting his head just below your belly button. “You moaned my name.”
You’ve never seen him smile like this. His eyes have never looked so bright before. You’re mad that he looks attractive between your legs, with his lips dripping in your own arousal. You hate that you like it.
“I did.” You say, leaving no room for him to respond.
After all, he probably said that just to try and get a rise out of you.
“You’re going to do it again, you know.” He responds anyway, now standing and reaching for the button on his pants. “And again.”
You watch him, not wanting to believe that you’ll be moaning his name again tonight. Thinking that this is the end of it, though you should have known better. He’s going all the way.
“Roll over.” He says now, almost demanding in a way that makes you immediately follow the direction.
You roll over perfectly for him, presenting an already fucked and pulsing hole for him to rub up and against. He actually has to blink up at the ceiling with a deep breath before really getting a good look at this angle.
A perfect ass, perfect cunt, all wet and willing for him of all people. You’re right where you belong at this moment. Against your bed, with his cock out and ready to fuck you until you forget Jake ever existed.
“Damn.” He comments, thumbing at your pussy lips and gripping himself with the other hand. “Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror like this?”
That’s a weird question, but yeah.
Still, you don’t nod or answer. You just stuff your face into the very same pillow that Jake laid against the day you straddled him. If you breathe in hard enough, you can almost smell him on it.
“I’m sure you have.” Jay answers for himself, now spreading your cheeks and getting a good look at both holes.
Then, he leans forward, takes off his shirt, and slaps his cock against your swollen lips. Over and over again, watching the strings of your previous orgasm connect him to you. He pushes, and pushes, rubbing it between your lips and relishing in the image of his cock against you.
Where it fucking belongs.
And then he’s releasing a string of saliva, letting it drop directly onto the head of his length before he pushes the tip in.
God, he’s thick. Just the head alone feels so much bigger than you’ve had before and it’s a bit unfamiliar. Because, of fucking course it is.
Still, he stays like that. Pushing his tip in, out, in, out.
Over and over again, giving you small sighs from his throat at the feeling until you can’t fucking stand it anymore.
You’re the one who pushes back, slipping another inch of him into your tight and wet walls, gripping your sheets much the same way Jake did when you went down on him.
“Fuuuuck,” Jay moans out slowly, using both hands to spread your cheeks and get a good look at the way you’re the one who wants more. “Didn’t expect you to be this tight, baby.”
You ignore his words, knowing they’re more insulting than you need to hear right now.
And then, you feel his hand move to the small of your back and push a perfect arch out of you, his other hand pushing forward to grip your tit. He slides all the way in this time, bottoming out before staying in place just to feel you adjust around him.
“Let me feel how tight you really are then,” He smiles from behind you, finger flicking your nipple and flexing his cock inside of you. “Squeeze it.”
You clench on demand, not because he asked for it, but because the feeling of his fingers on your nipple forces you to do it. It’s a slight pleasure that always shoots straight to your pussy and you can’t fucking help the moan. You’ve always been weak to have your nipples played with, and Jake really indulges you in that. Jay is doing the same without even fucking knowing what it does to you.
“Goddamn, I just know they’ll miss you.” Jay breaks out in a moan, boasting about having his cock in you and feeling the way your perfect cunt jerks it off for him. “Wouldn’t let anyone fuck this pussy again,” He continues to ramble to you, spilling out his filthy desires. “My pretty slut of a sister, giving it to me like this?”
You gasp when he finally moves, pulling out nearly all the way before stuffing you full again.
“Finally letting me see what all the hype was about?” He degrades, keeping his pace slow just to hear you give into his words with each moan. “I’ll give it to you, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
You nod against your will, never realizing that maybe you like being called these names. Jay, once so quiet and stoic, now talking to you in a way you never could have imagined. You don’t know why it’s so hot. You won’t think too hard into it, nor will you ever bring this shit up again either.
“Wouldn’t you?” He repeats, leaning down against your ear. “I’ll be the one to fuck you the way you need, won’t I?”
His hips pick up at that point, driving those long and languid strokes into you at a quicker pace, with so much ease and confidence that you almost find it hard to think he’s lying. Maybe the only person you shouldn’t be fucking really is the only one who could fuck you the way you need it.
“Jay,” You hiccup against your pillows, trying to lift, but his hand only pushes you further down, keeping that perfect arch for him to hit your g-spot much like he did with his fingers. “Jay,” You try again, wanting to say something and not yet having the ability.
“That’s right.” He encourages you through his own stifled grunt, putting all the force in his body behind his thrusts now. “Say it.” He continues, now moving the hand from your tit to your hair, forcing your head back and your arch to reach pure agony.
God, that slight change in position nearly does him in. The way you gasp out and let him force you into a shape that only a gymnast could achieve. So flexible. So slutty. You’re perfect.
“God, Just fucking say it again.” He groans, now releasing your hair and gripping your ass, forcing you to ride back on him, trying to memorize the way your pussy walls hug around him, trying to memorize the way you moan for him, the way you’re wet for him, the way he’s finally fucking you.
“Jay–” You moan out, lifting on your arms yourself this time, ruining the arch but pleasing him all the same when you bounce back, to the point that he’s chuckling out his groans and biting his bottom lip to the point he may actually be bleeding.
You are truly so unbelievable to him.
“So needy for dick.” He tuts, trying to keep his composure as he stares down at the scene of you riding against him. “Just gonna ride me like the filthy slut I always knew you were?”
You hiccup, chasing the pleasure for yourself and you alone. Loving the numbness in your brain right now, and the way his cock pulses inside of you. You feel like you could burst with every color of emotion you’ve ever felt in your life, but you refrain.
You bounce back harder, harder, harder, until your knees buckle and he slips out of you when you fall flat back onto your stomach.
He thinks it’s cute though, in the way you fucked against him until you couldn’t anymore. Rendering your body a melted mess of a woman, where he can easily move you to roll over, and take you for all your worth. So he can fuck you better than anyone ever has, so he can remind you that while you’re dirty, and give yourself to just about anyone, you’re proud to have given it to him too.
And as you lay there, staring up at him when he pushes your legs up to your chest, slipping right back into you with a pornographic moan of his own, you can’t help but see him as anyone other than Jay.
He’s too attractive, he fucks too good.
Except it is Jay. You’ve moaned his name. It’s his cock inside of you, he’s the reason you’re so close to your second orgasm.
And goddamn, do you need it.
You need it so much that your fingers leave marks against his shoulders as you try to hold onto him. All you can hear are his breaths of the words “Yes.” and “Mhm.” encouraging you to scratch him harder and deeper as he fucks into you.
He knows you feel good, mostly because of the way you finally make eye contact with him, and the way you look at him as if you want him to be the one fucking you right now over anyone else.
“You really are just–” He starts, in awe at how pretty. “So fucking pretty.” He laughs this time, slamming his hips into you at a pace that forces small moans out of you with each pointed thrust.
And you are shocked by his sudden kind words. This whole time you never could have guessed he had some weird little crush on you, and event through him fucking you, you couldn’t tell. But now he suddenly wants to say you’re pretty?
You don’t get him. Nor do you even care to understand, because what he’s doing right now is enough to distract you from the inevitable situation that will follow.
You remain silent save for the few moans you offer, trying to focus solely on the way his cock splits you open. And man, he really does fuck hard. Each slam into you feels like you’re seeing stars, to the point that you can feel your throat go dry from your slacked lips.
To the point your tits are squished under your legs painfully.
To the fucking point that the saliva that does collect in your mouth only falls out of the corners of your mouth.
Jay is so quick to catch it too, leaning down and squishing your tits even more painfully as he licks up each dribble and revels in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, no. He likes seeing you cock-drunk for him too much.
You’re really letting him fuck you, and you’re really just letting him do whatever he wants? All it took was losing Jake as a friend? He’d do it over and over again just to experience this in all the different ways he could imagine.
And as he thinks about it, with your pussy clenching him so tightly, he finally releases your legs and focuses on getting you off once more. He lands his fingers right between your legs, aggressively rubbing your clit in time with each of his breathless thrusts.
He’s out of breath by this point, sweating, and his hair is falling against his face only to stick to his forehead as he gives it to you the way you deserve. He wills it out of you, unsatisfied if he can’t get you to come at least twice on him.
Then, he encourages it.
“Come on, baby–you’re close, right?” He grunts, already feeling dangerously close to his own orgasm. “Let me feel it,” He continues, staring straight into your eyes as if he’s telepathically forcing the orgasm out of you. And it works, he can feel the clench become suffocating around his length, forcing his own eager orgasm to the surface.
“Fuck, yeah, this is what you wanted.” He nods to himself frantically, fingers stuttering against your clit as he grinds his cock into you as deep as he can manage, holding it there as he witnesses your second orgasm along with his own.
And both of you are whispering moans and strings of “fuck” and “goddamn” and even a few of his name.
It only drove his orgasm to keep spurting out of him far past your own high. You feel it, and you watched him do it. He didn’t pull out, nor did he even ask if he needed to. He fills you to the brim and only keeps going, lending short thrusts as if to push the cum deeper and deeper into you until he’s entirely drained and spent.
There, he pulls out without a single glance to you before he falls onto your bed, letting the mess on his cock seep into your sheets. That’s when he looks at you, out of breath and sparkly eyed as he pushes his hair out of his face.
He fucking smiles at you.
“Feel better?” He asks through deep breaths, reaching his hand up to your cheek and caressing it as if he actually cares.
“No.” You say numbly, feeling more hollow than you did before giving in to the temptation of a situation so fucked up. “I feel worse now.”
“Aww,” He coos, lifting on his elbow to look at you. “You should’ve told me, I could have kept going.”
You stare at him, unsure of how you feel about any of this. Certainly not wanting it to happen again, but somehow knowing that it very well might.
On your terms.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Things are weird after Jay goes back to his room. He even cleaned you up a little bit using one of Jake’s old shirts with a chuckle. Even nodded to you, saying you should give it back to him unwashed when he inevitably breaks up with you.
It made you cry the instant he finally left you alone. Which is so fucked up because you couldn’t even tell if you wanted to be alone or not. You almost wanted him to stay and pretend to love you for a little longer despite how wrong it was.
At the end of the day though, Jay got what he wanted, and you’re still here having to clean up the trail of destruction he leaves behind him.
The first thing you need to do is talk to Jake and lay it out straight to him. You want to tell him you know the truth, but most of all you want to ask why he did it. You want to know why he was so good at lying, and you deserve to know if any of it at all was real.
Because if he so much as nods his head that any of it was real, you’d never talk to Jay again. In fact, you’d never even look at him again. Especially after what just happened. Regardless of if you liked it, regardless of if Jake really did lie to you, you’d tell Jake everything.
Even if it makes you weird for letting Jay fuck you. Even if it’s weird that you fucked yourself against him.
You’d give everything to Jake if he’d accept it, and all you can do now is hope that somehow this situation is flipped on its head.
Though there’s no way it could be.
So, you lay there, alone in your bed wishing so much that you had someone to tell you that everything will be okay.
The last thing you needed was for that person to be fucking Sunghoon.
The bright and unknowing text makes you cry harder, but you still respond to it.
Because at the end of the day, you really are dumb.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Approaching Jake the next day felt like a whirlwind of emotion in your chest. Wondering if everything Jay said was true, wondering if it’s a lie.
You don’t think you’ve ever hoped more for anything. For Jake to explain it all, for him to make promises and never break them. For him to still want you even if you don’t want yourself.
He sees your face fall the second you look at him. You look nervous, scared, maybe even a bit broken. Which is insane compared to how you normally look at him, or act around him. He immediately panics too, especially when you don’t lift up and kiss him like usual.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting with you in his driveway after a silent drive over. “Things feel really weird and I’d rather you just tell me now because I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Jay told me everything.” You say, voice breaking throughout each word as you try your damndest to keep the tears from falling and making you look more pathetic than you already do.
Jake is silent when he hears you say that. Reminding himself of the threats Jay threw at him last week, and wondering why he, himself, didn’t try to work things out further with Jay so the truth wouldn’t have come out this way.
You probably hate him. After all, this whole relationship is based on a lie, but that doesn’t mean he lied about his feelings. Because he fucking meant everything.
“Can we go inside to talk about it?” Jake asks gently, turning to you in a timid stance, seemingly curling in on himself. He reaches out to you, but you flinch away, not wanting to be touched by anyone. “Please?”
You try to look at him but the second you do, the tears well up to the point you’d rather just go back home. You feel so tired. Your legs are sore from what Jay did with you, your heart is sore from what Jay told you, and your really, really, just want to sleep it all away.
“Did he really pay you?” You ask through your tears, shifting closer and closer to the door just to create distance so you can breathe.
“Please, just come inside.” Jake pleads, face flushed and heart buzzing at the fear of losing you.
Angry over the fact that Jay would really stoop so low.
“No.” You dead-pan, staring out the window. “I don’t want to go inside with you.”
That really shatters Jake. Entirely, actually, in the way you say it so confidently. He knows you deserve answers though, and you’re probably sick of people toying with you and your little frail heart strings.
“Okay.” He says in a sigh, breathing out and pushing himself against the back of his driver’s seat before turning to look at you again. “He did pay me, but I need you to tell me what he said to you.”
You feel that last bit of hope dissolve with his confirmation. Why does it matter now what Jay said? It’s probably true, right?
It takes you a few minutes to regain composure, crying hot and salty tears next to a man on the verge of breaking someone’s arm over this.
“He said he paid you to get me away from Sunghoon. That you lied the whole time, and that you were planning to break up with me soon.”
In that instance, Jake sees red.
You can hear him breathe through his nose trying to control how badly he wants to raise his voice, not at you, but at Jay. Jay isn’t here though, no. Jay is at home, daydreaming about how he had you once and for all, and the way he set it up for Jake to have no room to wiggle again.
You hear Jake call your name, trying to get you to look at him, but you can’t. You try to keep your eyes out the window, solely because you refuse to look at him if he can’t come up with some type of excuse for you to cling onto.
Jake is good at lying though, you remind yourself.
“I didn’t lie the whole time.” He starts, leaning himself back against the seat of his car and trying to think up a way to explain it that doesn’t make him look worse than he already does. “There’s no way I can explain this without it making me look bad but–” He stops, lifting in his seat and reaching for you, forcing you to look at him. “I only lied to you about wanting to start a band, everything else was real. I stopped taking his money. I tried to tell him the deal is off because I want to be with you, I–”
You look at him this time, letting the information sit right in the center of your brain.
“He got mad when I told him I didn’t want to break up. He offered to pay me triple to do it, then threatened me when I ignored him.”
Maybe he’s not lying.
“I’ve known him since childhood, I only took this deal because I thought he was genuinely just trying to get you away from some asshole. But when he didn’t even want me to be with you, I realized–”
“He fucked me, you know?” You say, shaking your head with a sad laugh. “I let him. I don’t know why but, I did.”
Jake freezes, his apologetic tone leaving his body in an instant.
“Are you fucking joking right now?” He asks, clenching his fists before loosening them to grab your face on both sides. “I need you to understand that I lied to you before I knew you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
You stare forward in a numb way, feeling his warm hands caress your cheek like it doesn’t look like he wants to murder someone right now.
“I don’t care if you slept with him. He’s the one who took advantage of you, not me.”
Only now do you think your tears dry up, choosing to believe Jake, choosing to hate Jay. Both with all of your being.
“I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.” You say with a hollow voice. “I need you to make a lot of promises to me after this if you still want me.”
“Wha-” Jake is dumbfounded by your words. “If I still want you?!” He continues, that angry expression now turned at you. “You think I don’t want you now? Because my own best friend decided to become a piece of shit? This isn’t your fault.”
You feel lighter at those words, your legs feel less sore, your heart starts beating at a pace that you can hear.
“I let him though.” You say, trying to look away but feeling Jake hold your face and keep it from moving. “I believed him over you.”
Jake nods, softening his features in an instant when he lunges forward to kiss you.
“Let’s just– let’s go inside, okay?”
You nod slowly, feeling slightly dissociated about all of this, especially with the way your entire life and moral status shattered within the span of a day and a half.
And when Jake walks you inside, he sits with you on the couch with no indication of taking advantage of you. He looks just as hurt and confused as you do despite being Jay’s co-conspirator at one point.
“Sunghoon texted me.” You add to the whirlwind of mishaps. “I responded, but then he ghosted me again.”
Jake nods, listening to you before the room falls heavy and silent. The only comfort you feel comes from the warmth of his side pressed against yours.
“I really hope you believe me when I say I meant all of what I’ve said to you. If I was really going to break up with you and do what he wanted me to do, I wouldn’t have slept with you.”
You pause.
“You wouldn’t have?”
Jake shakes his head, proving to you time and time again that he is nothing but a man who cares about how other people feel. If he were to continue the deal and have no feelings for you by the end of it, you genuinely believe the blow would have hurt less because he would have made sure of it.
“As much as I wanted to sleep with you from day one, I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t as attached to you as I was, or still am.”
Everything always feels better when Jake is the one talking, explaining, navigating. It’s like there’s nothing in the world he can’t do. A situation that felt like it couldn’t be fixed, suddenly feels mended and unbelievably stupid to you.
Jay is pathetic, and you gave in to the way he spoke to you, you gave him what he wanted, and what did he do? Smile because he got his way? Chuckle at your pain? Get off on it, even? God, you’re so stupid.
“I believe you.” You finally breathe out, feeling an immense amount of weight lifting off of you. “What should we do, then?”
“Piss him off? What? He doesn’t have anything on me after this anyway. He isn’t gonna run and tell your mom he slept with you or anything, I know for a fact his dad would beat his ass.”
You chuckle, which feels morbidly uncanny to do right now, but you worried you’d never be able to crack a smile again.
“So, what else then? What else did you lie to me about?” You ask, blinking away lighter tears now.
“My gpa isn’t a 2.1.” He looks away, feeling bad that he lied to you at all. “It’s a 4.3.”
Oh. A smart boy.
“I don’t usually paint my nails or wear ripped clothes, and I’m kind of a loser. I’ve only slept with like two girls before you.” He continues, looking at you with sparkling eyes. “I think I like this look on me though, so in a way I wasn’t even lying about my fashion sense past the first day, if I’m being honest.”
You smile, reminding yourself of how genuine he felt when you were with him back then.
“Only two girls?” You pin point that quick statement he made. “I definitely wouldn’t have guessed.” You laugh sarcastically, sniffling a bit due to the sheer amount of crying you’ve been doing.
Jake rolls his eyes at you.
“Isn’t that proof enough to know I wouldn’t have done any of this with bad intentions?”
You smile, nodding, feeling like you’re worlds away from the pain you felt this morning.
“I can’t believe he did that.” You finally let out, leaning closer to Jake and gripping onto his arm as if you need more balance. He lets you, feeling happy but still angry at the man who used to be his most beloved friend.
“I’d like to say the same, but unfortunately I’m not shocked.” Jake shakes his head in pity a Jay, the guy who thinks he has it all. “He’s always been awful to other people, but never to me until now.”
You nod in agreement.
“I barely noticed him before my mom decided to marry his dad. It’s going to be hard going back to campus without you. He’s probably going to sabotage me more or something.”
“Nah,” Jake shakes his head languidly. “4.3 GPA remember?” He continues, wrapping both arms around you and hugging. “I could transfer.”
And for some reason, you can’t help but feel excited knowing Jay may have had you once, but he will never have you again. You can’t wait to see the look on his face with Jake rolls up on campus, tainting any plan to get close to you. Even more? You know Sunghoon will be fuming to know he fucked around and found out.
After all, with your mother so lovey dovey with Jay’s dad, you could always spend the summer with Jake instead. Leaving Jay all alone, where he fucking belongs.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
morals on sundays | myg
You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.
○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader
○ Rating: Explicit/18+
○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff
○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)
○ Word Count: 2,177
○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots
○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't
○ Post Date: January 22, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK
Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder.
“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air.
“How much time do we have?”
Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear.
“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”
“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move.
“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.”
“No.”
Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders.
“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi.
“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder.
“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?”
“Nope.”
“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head.
Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed.
“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus.
Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you.
“You were too good for him.”
Yoongi’s right. He’s always right.
You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment.
Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature.
Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was.
In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort.
As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish.
“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one.
“Yes.”
“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.”
Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly.
“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…”
Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate.
“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.”
You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right.
“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different.
You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart.
“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.”
“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it.
“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.”
It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes.
“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.”
Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin.
You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours.
“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants.
“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric.
“These are his, too, right?”
“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them.
You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him.
But you also love your ex.
It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water.
Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good.
Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes.
“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough.
“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples.
“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.”
Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is.
Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper.
“Not yet, though.”
“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs.
“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.”
The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up.
“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–”
Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm.
It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs.
Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal.
You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.
He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer.
“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you.
Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips.
“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it.
You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s.
Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae
#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#yoongi smut#bts smut#yoongi angst#bts angst#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#yoongi fanfic#bts fanfic#jai writes#gimmethatagustd#mos#100 drabble challenge
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
#hazbin alastor#hazbin art#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#pregnant reader#secret pregnancy#slow burn#soft alastor#deer man
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Business and dates
summary | when grace leaves, it leaves the shelbys with a heartbroken thomas. polly takes this as an opportunity to get him with the girl she's always wanted him with
pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader
word count | 2.30k
genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst!
requested? | yes! thank you so much for your request! i had so much writing it, and i am kind of proud of this one, lol.
warnings! | mentions of bullying, and the reader not eating from being worried! and, i have not proof read this yet!
author’s note! | Hi! Thank you all for being so patient as I worked on this! Requests are open for drabbles, and headcanons only at the moment for these characters! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
No one knew what had happened that day. All anyone knew was that Grace was suddenly gone, and that she had left the Shelby family with a heartbroken Thomas. And the person left to pick up the pieces was his lifelong best friend, who has been in love with Thomas since the day they met back when they were just small kids.
Thomas was having a decent day, school had just let out and he was walking back home (alone because his older brother Aurther thought that it would be funny to run off before Thomas got out of class) when he saw a young girl getting picked on.
“Stop it! This is my favorite skirt!” Thomas heard her yell to the kids that had her on the ground, kicking dirt onto her clothes while laughing and taunting her. Thomas knew that these kids were practically afraid of him, so he knew he could get them to leave the girl alone. He also knew that his mother would scold him if she found out that he didn’t do anything to help her.
“Oi! Leave her alone, or I'll put a curse on you!” Thomas called out as he made his way up to the group, and pulled a razor blade out of his pocket. The kids practically scattered the moment they heard Thomas’ voice. Leaving just him, and the girl with dirt on her clothes.
“Thank you” He heard the girl say in a quiet voice as he put his hand out to help her back up.
“What caused that?” He asked, curious as to what the girl could have done to anger the other kids so much.
“I-I told them that I wouldn’t do their homework.” She said back to him, as she tried to get the dirt off of her skirt. Thomas told himself that he should have known it was something like that. There wasn’t anything serious that this girl could have done to upset them so much.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home, you live on Watery lane, right?” He said as he started walking, with the girl running a bit to catch up with him. He knew her name, he recognized her from school. She lived right across from him, but they never said anything to each other. She had been over to play with Ada sometimes, but they never spoke.
Neither one of them said anything as they walked, it wasn’t until they got to her home that Thomas spoke up.
“They shouldn’t bother you again, no one should.” He said as he stood outside her doorstep, seeming almost sorry since he knew his reputation, and how kids would stay away from him in fear of getting cursed.
“It’s alright, I don’t really have any friends anyways.” The small girl said, while rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Why don’t you come play at my house? I know my family won’t mind.” He said to her with a small smile. Truth be told, Thomas didn’t really have many friends either, and he saw an opportunity to make one.
Ever since then, the two were inseparable. They did everything together, they were even each other's first kiss. Her family was weary at first, but soon saw how protective the Shelby boys (and the rest of the Shelby family) were over her, and grew to like them. The two were like this up until Thomas was called to war
“Tommy, this has to be a mistake.” The girl cried into Thomas’ shoulder as he held her. “All three of you at the same time? What kind of cruel joke is this”
“The universe has a funny way of doing things.” He mumbled into her hair, his hand resting on the back of her head. “I’ll come back, sweetheart.”
“You don’t know that, Tommy” The girl said as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.
“You really think I'm leaving you yet? You think I'm going to leave you before you get married? Please, your future husband doesn’t get off that easily.” He said with a small laugh while trying to lighten the mood as he held her face with his hand. “Nothings taking me from you, not yet.”
“You better come back, Shelby.” She said as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Or, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.”
Thomas laughed and kissed her head, as the air in the room changed. He didn’t know why, but he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave without giving her a kiss, even just a light one. “You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said as he pulled away.
She believed him, she tried not to worry. She didn’t worry until his letters stopped coming. After a month of not hearing from him she worried so much she got sick. She wrote him everyday, sent him a letter at least once a week, if not twice. No word of his death ever came.
The day Thomas arrived home, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Polly. His heart broke when he saw her, she was paler, and her face was skinny, all signs to her not eating properly. Neither one of them said a word to each other for a week. It wasn’t until (Y/n) decided that she had enough, and stormed into his room.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, growing red in the face.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, not meeting her eyes, already knowing what she was talking about,
“You! You come back, and are completely different! You’re cold, and mean to everyone, which maybe you were that way to some people before, but never to me! Never to your family!” As she yelled at him, she started to sway as if she was about to faint. Before she could hit the floor, Thomas grabbed her and set her down on the bed beside him.
“You need to eat something.” He mumbled, not looking at her which infuriated her more.
“I thought you were dead.” This caught his attention as he heard her start to cry. He finally turned to her. “You stopped writing.”
“I didn’t know how to write to you, you would ask me how I was, and I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you about how I had just watched a man die. I thought it better to not write.” He said, pulling her into his chest. “Why are you not eating?”
“You worried me, anything I ate just came back up.” She mumbled into his chest.
“I told you not to worry.” He said with a small laugh coming from his chest, the first in a long time.
“Tough shit, Shelby.” She mumbled back, while pulling her head out of his chest.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the other, until Thomas finally spoke up. “I’m trying to get back to normal.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, she wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been so close.
“I know, it will just take some time.” She said while she caressed his cheek. “And, I’ll be here to help you heal.”
After that day, nothing ever really went back to how it was before the war. But it was like that for everyone. Thomas had gone back to normal as much as he could. He had his moments, but everyone did. And, (Y/n) didn’t lie, she was there every step of the way, even in the bad times she never left.
The two never fought again until the day Grace left. She had tried telling Thomas before that something was up with her, but he just wouldn’t listen. The only other person that seemed to notice it was Polly.
“He’ll never go for it.” John pipped into the conversation. Polly was currently trying to figure out a way to cheer Thomas up, and the idea she had was to put Thomas with (Y/n). She already considered the girl a daughter, and she always wanted her with Thomas. To her, it was the perfect plan.
“That's why we don’t tell him! All we tell him is that he has a business meeting at the new restaurant, he’ll show up, expecting some business man to be there, but instead (Y/n) will come in wearing the most beautiful thing I can find, that he’ll just have to stay.” Polly explained to the boys and Ada.
“Alright, but how are you going to get (Y/n) there, dressed up, without suspecting anything?” Ada chimed in.
“We’ll tell her a boy stopped by and asked to take her out.” Polly said, as if it was obvious.
“Please, she’s not going to just agree to go out with someone, especially if she doesn’t even know who it is.” Arthur muttered.
"Actually she might.” John announced to everyone. “Just to make Thomas jealous, she mentioned it back when Grace was around.”
The Shelby’s set everything into motion that night. Polly told Thomas he had a meeting, then she told (Y/n) about the secret man that wanted to take her out.
So Thomas sat in his suit, waiting for this man to show, when he saw (Y/n) walk through the door, dressed like a vision in her red, drop waist, beaded dress, with an old pearl necklace to match. She looked around the room, until her eyes landed on Thomas.
“What are you doing here?” She asked him, as she walked up to his table.
“Business meeting, what are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly growing jealous at the thought of her being here for another man.
“A date, and what business meeting? I know your schedule, there wasn’t one planned, did you make one?” She asked, wondering who on earth Thomas could be meeting for business at this hour.
“No, Polly told me I had one, who’s the date?” He asked, his jealousy rising.
“Not sure, Polly told me-” A look of realization crossed both their faces “Polly” The two said in unison.
She decided to sit down, now laughing to herself. “You’re the date.”
“You’re the business.” Thomas responded, a small smile growing to his face.
The two sat there for a minute, before Thomas spoke up. “You do look stunning.”
“Polly picked it.” She said, with a small laugh.
“I bet she did.” Thomas said with a laugh, and a sigh. “She’s wanted us together for ages.” He mumbled.
“And what do you want?” The girl asked. Thomas had always had a feeling that (Y/n) liked him, he was just never sure how much, until he looked up and met her eyes that were filled with nothing but love and want.
“You in my life.” He said, keeping his eyes on her. “I thought a relationship between us would mess everything up. I couldn’t risk losing you.”
“Thomas.” The girl said, grabbing his hand across the table. “You could never lose me, even if we did have a relationship and it failed, I would still love you. But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”
“I have distracted myself from you for as long as I can remember. I wouldn’t let myself fall for you.” Thomas said, standing up from the table, (Y/n) following.
“It’s okay to fall, Thomas, who knows, maybe it won’t hurt.” She said, as she placed a hand to his face. Without thinking, Thomas leaned in and kissed her with everything in him, causing her to hit the table, his hands on the side of her face being the only thing to keep them from falling. The pair kissed until they needed air. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers.
“Let’s give this a try.” He whispered, looking into her eyes.
The girl smiled and gave Thomas a quick peck, before they left the restaurant, her holding his arm. The walk back to the Shelby home was mostly quiet, until she spoke up. “Thank god for Polly.”
#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#cillian murphy#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby fic#tommy shleby fic#thomas shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby fluff#thomas shelby angst#tommy shelby angst#thomas shelby peaky blinders#tommy shelby peaky blinders#peaky blinders
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Husband Effect
Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...
Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff
A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!
__________
“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”
“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”
“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.
“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”
“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.
“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.
“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”
“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”
“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.
“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”
“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”
“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”
“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”
“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.
“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.
“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”
“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.
“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”
“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”
“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”
“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.
“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes.
“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.
“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.
“Please hurry Sam.”
One Week Later
“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”
“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”
“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.
“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”
“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”
“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”
“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said.
“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”
“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.
“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.
“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”
“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”
“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away.
“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”
“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”
“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”
“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”
“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.
“I promise, Y/N.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.
“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.
“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”
“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean.
“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.
“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.
“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”
“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”
“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”
“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”
“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”
“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“
“I do feel loved,” said Dean.
“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.
“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”
“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.
“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”
“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.
“Cool with it?” you asked.
“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”
“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.
“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.
“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”
One Year Later
“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day.
“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”
“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”
“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.
“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.
“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”
“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”
“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”
“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.
“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.
“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”
“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.
“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.
“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”
“You got something special planned?” you asked.
“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”
“You read my mind.”
#dean x reader#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#one shot#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#dean fanfiction#dean reader insert#spn reader insert#supernatural reader insert#dean winchester x#winchester#dean x#dean winchester x reader#supernatural one shot#spn one shot#dean one shot#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester supernatural
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
benchmarkautoappraisers
Benchmark Auto Appraisals
mayaquillage
Mayaquillage
danyelle0neres-blog
Linda Menina🌸❤
mayaquillage
Mayaquillage
featherchan
Featherchan's RP