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ncteez · 6 months

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Cherry Boy. [l.c.]

A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space. You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader

CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv

NOTE― It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!

smut tags under cut::

SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie

Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at.

Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin.

He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.

You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you.

It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way.

Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.

Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.

Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts?

It’s a joke.

It has to be a joke.

Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you.

Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you.

He likes you so, so fucking much.

“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you.

“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned.

“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has.

You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong.

It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all?

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth.

You need to live up to that promise.

“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.”

The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now.

He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words.

What did he do wrong?

“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb.

“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”

He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying.

“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.”

“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?”

Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment.

You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end.

“I’m coming over.”

He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final.

Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.

Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him?

That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment.

Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.

The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.

You look like you’ve been crying.

“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”

You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure.

He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions.

“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this.

“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”

He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him.

“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.”

He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you.

By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.

“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.”

You look at him with irritation at those words.

“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”

He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on.

“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet.

You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long.

“No, I think we’re done h-”

“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you.

Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–

“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again.

“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.”

Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately.

“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.”

You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on.

You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have.

“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”

He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you.

He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.

“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”

You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better.

“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it.

Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.

“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”

You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now.

“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”

“You want to give your virginity to me?”

You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.

“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”

You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time.

Ecstatic even.

“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”

“Jesus, no.” He says.

You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills.

“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him.

He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it.

“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you.

You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding.

He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body.

Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you.

He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time.

“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”

He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out.

“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”

You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now.

He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.”

His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.

But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something.

“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”

You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life.

“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”

“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him.

Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together.

You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something.

The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good.

Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing.

You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session.

This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him.

Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days.

Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you.

He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder.

His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds.

And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.

You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it.

“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”

When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue.

“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?”

He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”.

He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away.

“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you.

“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.”

You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you.

“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.”

He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him.

“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.

“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.”

He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now.

“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.”

Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it?

Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you.

You smile.

“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”

And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session.

As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you.

And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself.

You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?

When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.

You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch.

And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand.

“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”

It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?

Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears.

“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck.

“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much.

“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening?

You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.

He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way.

“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss.

And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought.

“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver.

He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt.

“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now.

You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you.

“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”

You smile.

You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself.

“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance.

He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.

It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it.

He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly.

He’s so fucking lucky.

“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”

He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point.

And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it.

“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”

Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words.

“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”

You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man.

“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.”

And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes.

“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”

His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you.

“Taking everything in you to…?”

You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool.

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”

“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words.

You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance.

“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there.

Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down.

He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum.

Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?

“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button.

His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally.

“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again.

Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan.

“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips.

His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish.

“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”

And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches.

“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”

His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting.

“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”

You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed.

Desperate. Willing.

You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again.

And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.

His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.

You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you.

Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it.

“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs.

You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally–

“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.”

He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him.

You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock.

You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely.

“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”

That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation.

“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”

You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now.

And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good.

“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”

God, he’s so frustrated.

“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too.

You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something.

You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there.

Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control.

You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.

The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head.

Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste.

You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head.

His entire body shivers as you glance up at him.

You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.

Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–

And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.

He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling.

The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–

“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it.

And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips.

You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……

It doesn’t fucking stop.

He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth.

“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now.

“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with.

“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.”

Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you.

“But we still haven’t–”

You cut him off quickly.

“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”

Oh, my god. He forgot.

“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you.

“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.”

You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand.

He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts.

“Oh.” He sighs out.

“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before.

Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory.

“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”

You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.

Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts.

“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night.

And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape.

“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm.

Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you.

He gets to….touch you.

And boy does he.

Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly.

You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you.

You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact.

He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements.

Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far.

I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right?

And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him.

“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you.

He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now.

And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit.

The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.

His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.

“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?”

He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers.

“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”

You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing.

“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”

He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.

“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement.

You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.

“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”

He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.

He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you.

“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers.

You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him.

“Now? Do you want to do it now?”

He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become.

“Can I?”

You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact.

All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works.

Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit.

“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.

He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy.

“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”

And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you.

He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you.

“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words.

“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you.

You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more.

“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”

He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening.

“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him.

And he does.

Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in.

His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.

The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it.

He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.

You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling.

He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now.

What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move.

He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in.

In and out, in and out, until–

“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.

Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….

He’s done for.

“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you.

He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long.

Until he’s not, of course.

And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath.

Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.

You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before.

You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him–

It hits you faster than you can realize.

Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening.

Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost.

Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath.

You pussy is pulsing, and then–

“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks.

There’s the breath you’d been holding.

“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.

Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you.

He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him.

Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you.

Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you.

Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now.

And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him.

“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.

“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow.

“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?”

He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head.

“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”

And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care.

“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”

He doesn’t even have to think twice.

“The second reason.”

“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”

#seventeen smut #lee chan smut #dino smut #svt smut

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genshinluvr · 2 years

Text

A Small Problem

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Albedo was coming up with a concoction that would strengthen the men during combat. But one little mix-up caused you to become a parent for a day.

Note: I think this is my longest Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader fic :o For this story, in particular, I set a goal for myself to type out at least 1k words a day, and I'm glad that I was able to do that! But I don't think I'll be able to do that with my other fics until after I've graduated ;v; For those who are new or returning readers, I post on AO3 as well, so if you have an AO3 and see a work similar to this, it’s me (Aaliah_exo on AO3). I don’t post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy (the reader is still gender neutral, pregnancy is just mentioned), slight mentions of weight and insecurities (because of pregnancy being mentioned). Itto and Childe almost knocked you down the stairs, oops.

Word Count: 10k

Read part two of A Small Problem here: [Another Small Problem]

You swore everything was normal and okay before you went to bed last night. Before heading off to bed, everyone was their usual selves. They were surrounding Albedo excitedly after he had mentioned making a concoction that’ll strengthen them in combat. Since it didn’t really have much to do with you, you sat idly by on the couch, trying your best not to fall asleep. It didn’t matter whether you got plenty of sleep last night or not. You felt like a zombie and that you could fall asleep with your eyes open if you would allow yourself to do so, but that wasn’t the case. You couldn’t help but have a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right in your and the fifteen men’s safe abode.

The only memory you could recall from last night was the men gathering around the dining table, watching Albedo pour ingredients into a big glass flask before mixing them together. You tried to stay awake during the entire thing, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. Albedo mentioned something about a concoction that can strengthen them during battles and some other thing, but you were so tired that you didn’t really hear the other thing that Albedo had mentioned. You only caught onto some things that Albedo had said (a strengthening potion of some sort) while the rest went in one ear and out the other. You covered your mouth and yawned, trying not to fall asleep.

“Did you really need to include lizard tail into the mixture?” Diluc asks, looking at the glass container skeptically.

“Yes, it is part of the experiment to see whether these ingredients will go well together to make the perfect strengthening potion.” Kazuha nods his head; he continues to help Albedo stir the glass flasks on the table.

“It doesn’t smell too good.” Gorou groans, covering his nose with both of his hands. For a moment, you swore you saw Gorou turn green at the smell of the concoction that Albedo was inventing.

“I don’t think it’ll taste good either.” Thoma laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m sure it won’t taste too bad! The aftertaste is what you’ll have to worry about the most.” Ayato says, leaning back in his seat.

“So! Who will be the taste tester of the experiment?” Childe asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Everyone will be testing it out,” Albedo says. He grabbed the glass flask and began to hand it out to every person that was standing around the table.

“Oh, is [Y/N] going to be the taste tester as well?” Venti asks, pointing over to where you sat. You quickly shook your head in protest.

“Sorry, boys, but I’m going to have to skip out on this little experiment. For some reason, I’m feeling pretty exhausted today.” You said, getting up from your seat before stretching with a big yawn.

“Aw! But you’re going to miss out on the exciting stuff!” Itto whines, giving you the puppy dog eyes with his bottom lip jutting out, forming a pout.

“It’s okay, Itto! I can always join in on the next experiment whenever I’m not feeling like I’m going to pass out on the spot.” You gave Itto a sympathetic smile. “Plus, this will be a great time to bond with each other and try something new with one another.” You gave them a small smile.

“We don’t want to leave you out,” Xiao mutters, frowning at you.

“Nor do we want you to feel left out; it’s best to be included, right?” Kaeya asks, tilting his head at you like a curious puppy. You giggled softly and approached the men, giving each of them hugs before walking over to the bottom of the stairs. Albedo starts to pour the light blue concoction into small glass cups.

“While I do appreciate that you all didn’t want me to feel left out, I’m going to have to sit this one out.” You said.

“I believe that I will sit this one out too.” Said Zhongli.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Dainsleif asks, looking at Zhongli with a raised eyebrow.

“He doesn’t have to give it a try if he doesn’t want to.” Baizhu sighs, shaking his head.

“Maybe he’s afraid that it won’t make him as strong as he used to be during his prime time as an archon,” Scaramouche says nonchalantly, picking up the glass cup that Albedo had handed over to him.

“Wait, he’s an archon!?” Itto asks, looking around with an alarmed look on his face. The others around him sigh in defeat, shaking their heads at Itto’s confusion.

“Itto, we’ve known about this for a while now.” Thoma pats Itto’s shoulders.

“Yeah! He revealed it to us a long time ago when we first got the abode!” Venti exclaims, shaking his head with a lighthearted chuckle.

“Wait, aren’t you an archon too, Venti?” Childe asks, making Venti freeze in his spot. Venti lets out an anxious “Ehe” while trying to act casual.

“I’m going to bed now. Goodnight!” You chuckled softly before turning around and walking up the stairs.

You hear a chorus of “goodnights” from the fifteen men while walking up the stairs. Once you’ve entered your bedroom, you close the door shut behind you. You rubbed your eyes before collapsing on your bed, mentally praising yourself for brushing your teeth early before you’ve decided to get into bed. You snuggle into your bed, pulling the extra pillow close to your chest before slowly drifting off to sleep.

You didn’t know why you were awake, but you’ve assumed that the sounds of whispering and quiet giggles were what roused you up from your slumber. You felt something, or someone, poke you in the face. You furrowed your eyebrows and cracked your eyes open, only to see a tiny face staring down at you with a broad smile— a child. You quickly sat up on your bed and looked around your bedroom with wide eyes. In your bedroom were fourteen children. You were assuming their ages ranged from eleven months to five years old.

“Why’d you wake them up!?” The tiny redhead hissed, slapping the blue-haired boy beside him.

“Because my tummy is growling, ‘Luc!” The blue-haired boy pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Diluc? Kaeya?” You whispered. The two boys glanced over at you in confusion. Oh, dear archons, they turned into children! Adorable children. You hear little babbles and little giggles. You slowly turned your head, only to see an eleven-month-old Xiao and Venti sitting at the edge of your bed, gnawing on one of your pillows.

“Oh, archons.” You whispered, quickly getting up from bed before scooping up Xiao and Venti. Both were squealing and mindlessly babbling as they clung to you with their chubby little hands. Venti began to gnaw on his fist while Xiao stuck to you like you were his lifeline.

“Oh, good! You’re awake!” Kazuha says, waddling up to you with Albedo in tow. The two of them grabbed onto your pajama pants leg.

“What happened to all of you!?” You ask softly, carefully trying not to startle the others. Albedo pouts and starts to mess with his oversized t-shirt. Albedo looked nervous as he tried to come up with a way to explain things to you.

“It seems like I have mixed up the ingredients for the strengthening concoction,” Albedo says, looking up at you with a small pout on his face. His bottom lips quivered as tears began to flood his eyes.

“Oh, Albedo! It’s okay! Accidents happen! No need to be upset!” You cooed, kneeling down in front of Albedo and Kazuha, wiping his tears away with one hand. Albedo sniffles and nods his head, wiping his tears away with his hand. You stood up and looked around your bedroom, counting each little heads in your bedroom. Fourteen. You only counted fourteen heads.

“Hey, where is Zhongli?” You ask.

“Maybe he’s busy doing old man things,” Scaramouche says, putting on the hat that was way too big for his head.

“I think he’s still sleeping!” Ayato comments, walking over to you with Thoma following after him while sucking on his tumb.

“Is he… de-aged like all of you?” You ask nervously. They all shrugged their shoulders in response to your question. You gulped and walked out of your bedroom with twelve toddlers following after you.

“Zhongli!?” You called, jogging down the hall towards his bedroom. “Zhongli, are you awake!?” You called out once more. Right before you could open his bedroom door, his door opens, revealing a perfectly normal Zhongli.

“[Y/N]? What’s the matter?” Zhongli asks groggily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Xiao and Venti stared at Zhongli, still in your arms. You stood in front of Zhongli with the children standing around you, looking up at the ex archon with wide eyes.

“When did we have children?” Zhongli asks, looking at you bewildered.

“Are you two our parents?!” Gorou asks in a hopeful tone, causing both you and Zhongli to become flustered.

“At least Zhongli is still himself,” Baizhu says, pouting with his arms over his chest. You almost did a doubletake when you saw that Changsheng had become a baby snake as well.

Xiao starts to squirm in your arms, small sniffles coming from him. Venti looks at Xiao in confusion, his mouth agape.

“Oh, Xiao! What’s wrong?” You panic, looking down at the yaksha worriedly. Xiao points at his tummy; you can hear faint rumbling coming from his stomach.

“It appears that Xiao is hungry. We’ll need to make him and the others some breakfast.” Zhongli said softly, reaching over to Xiao, taking him from your grasp. Xiao’s arms immediately wrap around Zhongli’s neck, snuggling into the former archon. Zhongli smiles and gently strokes the back of Xiao’s head with his right hand while holding him up with his left arm.

“Oh my gosh, my heart can’t take this.” You gushed, staring at the adorable sight in front of you. Venti pats you on the cheek with his fist, making you wince. “Ah, okay, okay! Let's make you all breakfast.” You gently grabbed Venti’s fist before turning around.

Venti giggles loudly, clapping his hands while cheering, “Yay!”

You smiled and kissed the top of Venti’s head as you walked towards the stairs with Zhongli following after you with Xiao in his arms. As you were walking down the stairs, the twelve children followed after you while shouting incoherent words at one another. Itto and Childe being the rambunctious children they are, the both of them were loudest and caused the most scene as everyone was heading downstairs for breakfast. Childe and Itto began to push and shove one another, causing one person to stumble into you, causing you to lose your footing.

Quick on his feet, Zhongli wraps his arm around your waist before you could fall down the stairs with Venti still in your arms. You held onto his silk t-shirt tightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. Zhongli looks down at Itto and Childe with a glare.

“Do not push and shove one another! Both of you could’ve gotten hurt, and [Y/N] and Venti could’ve fallen down the stairs!” Zhongli scolds the two unruly children. Itto and Childe pouted, looking away with their arms crossed over their chest.

“Sorry [Y/N] and Venti.” The duo apologizes, hugging both of your legs with puppy dog eyes.

“It’s okay, boys. Just, please, be careful next time.” You gently rubbed the top of their heads.

“Bad!” Xiao says, pointing down at Itto and Childe with an angry pout on his face. His cheeks flushed red with anger before looking up at you with a small pout. You giggled and pet Xiao’s head, kissing his chubby cheeks. Zhongli held onto your hand, looking down at you with a soft gaze, causing you to melt on the inside.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli asks, lightly squeezing your hand with his. You squeezed his hand back with a smile on your face.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Zhongli. Thank you for catching me.” You said shyly, standing on the tips of your toes before pressing a kiss on his cheeks. Zhongli stares down at you, his cheeks bright red with a shy smile on his face. You pull away from Zhongli, giving him one last smile before continuing on walking downstairs towards the kitchen and dining area. Zhongli presses his hand on the spot where you have kissed him, his cheeks burning red.

“Eww, cooties!” Scaramouche says, scrunching his face up in disgust.

Zhongli rolls his eyes with a faint chuckle, “Alright, boys. Let’s go downstairs for breakfast now.” He gently nudges them forward. Once everyone had arrived at the kitchen and dining area, the boys sat down at their respective seats, with the help of Zhongli.

“Looks like we need to get high chairs for both Xiao and Venti.” You said, gently bouncing Venti up. Venti giggles loudly and claps his hands with joy.

“Would we really need to get them high chairs when they return to their normal selves soon?” Zhongli asks, leaning against the counter with Xiao propped up on his waist.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I think we’ll need it either way since we won’t be able to cook, clean, or feed them with them in our arms.” You said, searching through the wooden cabinets for ingredients to cook some breakfast for the fourteen children. An idea suddenly pops up in your head. You held your index finger up, signaling Zhongli to give you a moment as you walked out of the kitchen and dining area. You grabbed a plush throw blanket and began wrapping it around you and Venti, making a child carrier sling.

“That’ll do for now!” You said, walking back to where Zhongli stood with Venti strapped to your chest, snuggling up against your chest, the top of his head peeking out from the makeshift child carrier sling. Zhongli felt his heart swell up at the sight of you with a baby Venti wrapped up against your chest, his tiny head poking from the top. Is this what you’ll look like if you and he have children?

“Time to make breakfast for the kids.” You hummed softly, bringing out the pots and pans to make pancakes for them to eat.

“Tofu.” Xiao blurts out, clinging to Zhongli as he watches you from a distance. You chuckle to yourself.

“Alright, Xiao. I’ll make some almond tofu just for you!” You said, pulling out almonds, milk, sugar, and tofu. While you and Zhongli were making breakfast for the kids, the twelve children were talking about the most random things while waiting for their breakfast. Being the helpful kid out of the others, Diluc and Dainsleif set the table and placed utensils down in different areas of the table for everyone.

“Will Xiao and Venti need a utensil too?” Dainsleif asks, looking up at you and Zhongli curiously.

“They’re babies, Dainsleif. I think [Y/N] and Zhongli will be feeding them instead.” Diluc approaches the blond boy with his arms over his chest.

“Some eleven-month-old children can feed themselves. Not perfectly, but they can.” Dainsleif crosses his arms over his chest.

“But we don’t know that for Xiao and Venti,” Diluc argues.

“Boys, boys.” You said, looking over at them. “Zhongli and I will be feeding Xiao and Venti for now. I don’t really trust them with utensils.” You said, placing pancakes on each plate.

“There’s no need to argue over this. Go sit at the dining table; your breakfast is almost ready.” Zhongli says, motioning them to go to the dining room. Dainsleif and Diluc muttered to themselves, turning around before walking to their seats. You and Zhongli give each other a look before continuing to put pancakes on the plate and sliced fruits into little bowls.

“Do you think one of them is going to start throwing a tantrum soon?” You ask, looking over at Zhongli.

Zhongli sighs and shakes his head, “Dear archons, I sure hope not.” You chuckled and continued to prepare breakfast for the little ones. Once you and Zhongli had finished preparing breakfast, the both of you began setting down the plate of pancakes and little bowl that contained sliced fruits in front of each child. After placing their breakfast in front of them, you and Zhongli poured a glass of grape juice and valberry juice into the cup. The children immediately dived into their food, stuffing their faces with pancakes and sliced fruits.

“I think we might need sippy cups as well.” You muttered, stroking your chin as you mentally prayed that none of them would spill juice on themselves.

“I believe that you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself, dearest.” Zhongli chuckles, shaking his head as he spoon-feeds Xiao almond tofu. Xiao’s cheeks were filled with almond tofu as he chewed on his favorite dish.

“I-I’m not getting ahead of myself!” You sputtered, cheeks turning bright red at the nickname Zhongli had given you. “I’m just being prepared for the future!” You mumbled, feeding Venti valberry and sunsettia oatmeal. Venti hums in delight, munching on the oatmeal happily while clapping his hands.

“Oh? Will we be having children in the future?” Zhongli teases you, looking over at you with a small smile. There it was again! That soft look he was giving you! You felt yourself melting in your seat from the look Zhongli was giving you. You were sure that your face was almost as red as Diluc’s hair by now.

“Zhongli!” You whined, covering your red face with your empty hand. “You rascal!” You hissed, pouting to yourself as you continued to spoon-feed Venti oatmeal. You hear a soft chuckle coming from where Zhongli was sitting. Your face was so red that it reached the tip of your ears, turning them just as red as your face. If this is what your married and family life would be like with Zhongli? Just the thought of being married to the former archon and having children with him made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re cute.” Zhongli chuckles, reaching over to where you sat before lightly squeezing your cheeks with an endearing smile on his face. You looked over at Zhongli from the corner of your eyes, your bottom lip jutting out as you mumbled incoherent words. You continued to feed valberry and sunsettia oatmeal to the eleven-month-old anemo archon, watching him eat his breakfast gleefully.

“My, my. You’re quite a flirt and a tease today, aren’t you, Zhongli?” You huffed, feeling your face heat up even more at Zhongli’s little teasing smile and soft gaze. If you weren’t in love with Zhongli already, you most certainly are now.

“I’m full….” Kazuha says, pushing his plate away from him. “But I also finished my pancake, not my fruits, though,” Kazuha adds, a small pout forming on his face.

“That’s totally fine, Kazuha! We can save the fruits as a snack instead.” You said, smiling at the small samurai.

“I finished everything!” Kaeya says, pointing at his empty plate and fruit bowl with a triumphant smile. “But I feel like my tummy is going to explode,” Kaeya mumbles, rubbing his now round belly.

“I don’t think that’s possible, Captain Kaeya.” Baizhu drones, tilting his head to the side. He looks over at you and Zhongli, pointing at his plate. “I also finished my breakfast.” He smiles.

“That’s great to hear! I’m glad that you’re able to finish your breakfast.” Zhongli smiles, ruffling Baizhu’s hair.

“Can we get boba later?” Ayato speaks up, grabbing a sliced sunsettia from his bowl before munching on it.

“Did you finish your breakfast?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Ayato with your head slightly tilted to the side.

“Yes, I finished my pancakes, and I am almost done with my fruits,” Ayato nods his head, holding up his almost empty bowl.

“This is the best breakfast I’ve ever had!” Thoma chimes happily, taking a sip of his grape juice with a bright smile on his face. “Can I help you with cleaning up?” Thoma asks sweetly.

“Of course, Thoma! Thank you for offering your help. We really appreciate it.” You stroked Thoma’s soft blond hair.

“Should we really let the children have boba after breakfast? Isn’t it quite filling?” Zhongli asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“We won’t let them immediately have boba after breakfast.” You shook your head. “I believe that we should all take a nice walk around Inazuma and let the children digest their food before we grab some boba.” You said, wiping Venti’s mouth with the cloth napkin.

“I believe that we shouldn’t be letting Ayato, in particular, drink so much boba. He’ll develop a sweet tooth, and he’ll get cavities.” Zhongli sighs.

“Aw, look at you!” You cooed, reaching over to gently pinch his cheeks with a teasing smile. “Someone’s fatherly instincts are kicking in.” You giggled.

Zhongli sighs, reaching up to grab your hand and interlocking his fingers with yours. “Well, when we have children in the future together, I want them all to be healthy,” Zhongli says. Your face turns bright red at Zhongli’s nonchalant response. How could someone like Zhongli say that so calmly?! Your heart couldn’t take this much longer. If he wanted to breed you right then and there, he could’ve just said it himself! You quickly shook your head, ridding the dirty thoughts that were surfacing in your mind. You heard a faint snort coming from the former archon as he sighed softly, examining your facial features with that soft gaze once again.

“You want to have children with me?” You squeaked; Zhongli chuckles at your reaction before pinching your cheeks.

“I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else but you.” Said Zhongli, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your cheeks.

“I heard we’re going for walkies!?” Gorou asks excitedly, popping up between you and Zhongli with stars in his eyes. You and Zhongli leaned away from one another with flushed cheeks, clearing your throats awkwardly.

“Who says walk like that?” Scaramouche asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I do! Now hush!” Gorou glares at Scaramouche.

“No need to be a big meanie, Scarapoop.” Itto huffs, crossing his arms over his chest while glaring at the Inazuman child.

“Pffft! Scarapoop.” Childe giggles, stifling his laughter behind his hand. Both Itto and Childe giggle with one another while Scaramouche’s face becomes flustered at the nickname that was given to him by Itto.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of my name!” Scaramouche scowls, zapping both Itto and Childe. Itto and Childe shriek in pain before running over to where you and Zhongli sat, climbing onto your laps while whimpering.

“Childe, Itto! Do not make fun of anyone’s name; it’s rude and disrespectful.” Zhongli scolds the two rambunctious children.

“Meanies,” Xiao says, batting Childe’s hand with his tiny hand.

“Bad!” Venti points at Itto and Childe with a small glare on his face.

“Other than that, yea, we are going to go on walks soon before we get boba.” You said, getting up from your seat. You grabbed Venti and placed him back on the makeshift child carrier sling. Zhongli followed after you with Thoma tailing behind him. As much as it was sweet for Thoma to offer to help you and Zhongli clean up since there wasn’t a step stool, Thoma struggled to help. So, what Zhongli did was hand him a fluffy towel to dry off the freshly washed plates, bowls, and utensils.

Thoma didn’t seem to mind much about not being able to help you wash the dishes; as long as he was able to help you and Zhongli out in some kind of way, he’s content. While you were drying your hand on the towel, Albedo walked into the kitchen and grabbed ahold of both your and Zhongli’s pant leg.

“Can we go collect some butterflies as well?” You and Zhongli look at Albedo in confusion. “The strengthening potion, I think I mixed up some ingredients that have caused us to turn into children,” Albedo says.

“Of course.” Zhongli nods his head. “Do you know when the potion will wear off?” Zhongli asks; Albedo shrugs his shoulders. Zhongli sighs in defeat, his shoulders slumping. Xiao gently pats both of Zhongli’s cheeks as if he was trying to comfort him. Zhongli smiles and gently strokes Xiao’s hair.

“I believe that we all need to get ready, but…” You trailed off with a weak sigh, running your hands through your hair. “I don’t think the clothes in your closet would fit you all right now.” You muttered, scratching your cheeks. Before your hopes could drop into the deepest depths of the ocean, an idea popped up in your mind. A few weeks ago, you jokingly said that you wanted to learn how to sew clothes, and Diluc and Childe surprised you with a sewing machine and some clothing fabrics. At first, you were against it because you were just joking around about it, but they took it literally and got you a sewing machine, fabrics, threads, and many more.

“This is going to take a while, but I don’t want the kids to step foot into Inazuma in clothes that don’t fit them.” You said, handing Venti over to Zhongli before pulling out your sewing machine, threads, clothing fabrics, and pencil.

“Are you making clothes for them?” Zhongli asks, raising an eyebrow at you. You nod your head in response before unraveling the fabrics. “Won’t that take a while?” He places Venti on the floor, letting the eleven-month-old anemo archon run off with a loud squeal.

“It will, but I cannot let them leave the abode looking like this.” You sighed softly.

In the end, you were able to sew some shirts and pants for the boys with the help of Zhongli and Xiao being the little helper and model. After being able to sew clothes that fit the fourteen children, you have decided to make a makeshift backpack leash for the twelve children and two child carriers to carry Xiao and Venti in. At first, Zhongli was taken aback when you said that you were going to be making leashes for the children. He was almost horrified at the thought of leashing children until you gave him a perfect reason and that it wasn’t an actual leash that people would put on their pets.

“It prevents the children from running off and being kidnapped. Plus, with twelve rambunctious children, I think it’s best that we keep them leashed.” You said, putting Venti in your handmade child carrier. For something that is made within a few hours, it looks pretty decent for something that was handmade.

“Do people in your world do that with their children?” Zhongli asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, they do, actually!” You said, strapping each child to the makeshift backpack leash. “Since the children in my world tend to run off and cause trouble, their parents will put them on backpack leashes to prevent them from running off and causing chaos.” You said. You were grateful that you were able to make yourself look presentable before leaving the abode. And by presentable, I mean athletic shorts, a plain black shirt, and sandals. Instead of wearing his usual attire, Zhongli decided to wear some comfortable clothes. Black sweat pants that hung low at his hips, a white silk t-shirt, and closed-toe shoes. You couldn’t help but admire his appearance; even when he’s wearing clothes that he usually doesn’t wear outside of the abode, he looks perfect.

“Are you liking what you’re seeing?” Zhongli asks, cocking an eyebrow at you with the corner of his lips quirked up. You quickly looked away from Zhongli with a huff of breath; cheeks tinted pink.

“Alright, kids! Are you all ready to go to Inazuma?” You announced, trying to shake off the feeling of embarrassment that was rested upon you after getting caught by Zhongli for staring at him.

“Yes!” They all chorused, and you giggled at how adorable they all sounded. You were just glad that you weren’t the one to turn into a child.

“We’re ready!” Albedo smiles.

“Let’s go! I want some boba!” Ayato tries to run off, only to be pulled back by the backpack leash that Zhongli was holding onto. Ayato pouts with his arms crossed over his chest, mumbling under his breath about not being able to get boba immediately. Zhongli gives Ayato a disapproving look, causing the young Inazuman child to flush with embarrassment. You chuckled to yourself. Zhongli is such a strict father figure, but the boys know that he means well and doesn’t want anyone to run off and get hurt. Or worse, get kidnapped.

“Now, now, Ayato. I know you’re excited to get boba, but please don’t run off.” Zhongli sighs, shaking his head.

“Yeah!” Xiao says from his child carrier, pouting down at the other twelve boys.

“Let’s head out into town now, shall we?” You said, opening the door of the mansion in the abode. The children around you cheer loudly, trying to run out of the house, only to be held back by the leashes that you and Zhongli were holding onto.

"Oh, come on! We’re not puppies!” Childe whines, glaring down at the backpack leash that he was strapped to.

“Hush, Harbinger. Did you not hear what [Y/N] said earlier? It’s for our own safety.” Diluc scolds the ginger-haired boy. Childe pouts with his arms over his chest, looking away from Diluc.

“You know, if you all continue to act up and not want to be on the backpack leash for your own safety, we can always stay home instead.” You suggested. The children immediately protested against your suggestion. Both you and Zhongli gave each other a knowing look before leaving the abode with the fourteen children.

Before leaving the abode, you and Zhongli didn’t think about the looks people would be giving the both of you as you were passing by them with two children strapped to your chest while the other twelve were on backpack leashes, rambling and talking loudly amongst one another. It felt almost normal to you and Zhongli, and the two of you didn’t mind the side glances you two were getting from bystanders. What you and Zhongli assume were people whispering about the backpack leashes, but they were talking about something else.

“That couple has such a huge family.” The woman whispers to her husband, looking at you and Zhongli, speechless.

“And they have two more strapped to their chests!” The husband would whisper back to his wife behind his hands, trying not to make it seem evident that he was staring at your little family.

“Fourteen children! How do they handle such…. Energetic children?” Another couple would whisper to each other, looking at your little family in shock.

“How do they have that much time to have fourteen children? They must’ve wanted a huge family.” An elderly man says to his coworker, glancing over at where you, Zhongli, and the fourteen children stood. You adjusted yourself awkwardly, attempting to ignore the comments that were being made about you and Zhongli’s big “family.”

“I mean, both of them are quite good-looking.” The man says, stroking his chin as his wife looks over at you and Zhongli from the corner of her eyes. “It must be hard for them to contain themselves when they have a significant other that is so alluring.” He adds, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re not wrong. Those two must’ve go at it like rabbits.” The woman says to her husband. Both yours and Zhongli’s faces turned bright red at the woman’s comment; you gulped and pulled at your shirt collar. You prayed to whichever archon was listening to you, praying that the ground would just split open and swallow you whole.

“Do you think they’re expecting another child?” The elderly woman whispers to her friend; her friend shrugs her shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say at the sight of you and Zhongli with fourteen children.

“If they are, I would be shocked because how can someone handle this many children?” The elderly woman’s friend answers.

“I think the other one is pregnant.” She points at you, causing your eyes to widen. You turn to look at Zhongli, feeling offended that the woman assumed that you were pregnant. Did you look…. Fat?

“Zhongli, do I look fat!?” You whispered, tugging on his shirt. He looks at you in confusion, his eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Fat? You don’t look fat.” Zhongli says.

“One of the elderly women said that I looked pregnant! Therefore, I look fat to them!” You said, looking over at the women, causing them to become flustered before scurrying off somewhere.

“Dearest, you don’t look fat at all!” Zhongli reassures you, caressing your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheeks gently. You couldn’t help but pout to yourself and look elsewhere. The sixteen of you were waiting for your boba drinks to be ready. The snide comments by the older women made you feel self-conscious about your weight now. Tsk. Do these women know how to keep the comments to themselves? It's like they intentionally say it out loud so that you can hear what they are saying.

“Do I need to go on a diet?!” You muttered to yourself, pressing your empty hand to your cheek, pinching the fat of your cheeks with a small frown.

“Don’t go on a diet. I love you just how you are; you don’t need to change yourself just because someone made an unnecessary comment about your appearance.” Zhongli says, gently grabbing your hand, pulling it down away from your face.

“You love me?” You squeaked, looking up at Zhongli in awe.

“Of course! I-I mean, we all do. Not just me.” Zhongli sputters, looking away from you, flustered. The tips of his ears were just as red as his face.

“Yeah! We love you!” Kaeya says, wrapping his arms around your waist, smiling up at you cutely.

“We love you very much!” Kazuha says shyly with a bright red face.

“We love you just the way you are!” Gorou says, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his tail wagging happily.

Scaramouche hugs you tightly, a big pout prominent on his face. “Don’t listen to those old hags! They only have a few years on their lifespan. They’re just jealous that you’re still youthful compared to their wrinkly butts!”

“Yeah! What Scaramouche said!” Itto nods his head.

“Their comment was very unnecessary,” Dainsleif grumbles; his eyes were scanning the crowd for the elderly woman that made a jab towards your appearance.

“Please don’t listen to them and take their comments to the heart,” Thoma says softly, giving you puppy dog eyes.

The boys surround you, attempting to give you a hug. You laugh softly, gently petting each boy’s head with a small smile on your face. Xiao reaches out to you with grabby hands; Zhongli approaches you and wraps his arms around your waist, careful not to crush any of the children while doing so. Zhongli had his arms wrapped around your waist while Xiao attempted to hug you. Venti, not knowing what Xiao was doing, hugged Xiao. Xiao grumbles and lightly brushes Venti’s arms away, awkwardly clutching your arm.

You couldn’t help but melt under their hugs, feeling an overwhelming wave of emotions hit you all at once. You laughed and gave each of them hugs, letting them know how much you appreciate each of them and how they all mean to you. The sixteen of you end up sitting outside of Inazuma City, sipping on your boba drinks while Albedo is trying to catch some butterflies for the strengthening concoction.

“I can see why Ayato loves boba so much,” Baizhu mumbles, sipping his matcha green tea boba happily while chewing on the tapioca pearls.

“It’s quite delicious and comes in a variety of flavors.” Zhongli hums, mixing his osmanthus milk tea and tapioca pearls with the boba straw.

“I think Xiao is enjoying his almond milk tea boba.” You giggled, wiping the trail of almond milk tea from his chin. “Be careful, Xiao. We wouldn’t want you to choke on your drink.” You cooed; Xiao looked up at you with doe-like eyes before continuing on sipping his boba. Zhongli chuckles and adjusts Xiao in his child carrier sling, giving Xiao some space to be able to move around and drink his boba in peace without feeling restricted. Xiao slightly squirms in Zhongli’s lap as he attempts to hold the boba cup with his tiny hands. Zhongli grabbed the bottom of the cup to make sure that Xiao didn’t accidentally drop the cup or spill it onto the ground.

“Yummy,” Xiao says, smacking his lips together before he continues to sip on his drink. You looked down at Venti, who was drinking your boba peacefully. You gently rubbed the top of Venti’s head, looking over at where Albedo and Dainsleif were, attempting to catch as many butterflies as they could for the strengthening potion.

“I’m glad that we’re able to hang outside of the abode together.” You said, smiling at Zhongli as you looked at the kids scattered around you and Zhongli, yet still in close proximity. “Granted, they are children, but I hope we can all hang outside of the abode together when they return to their normal selves.” You added.

Zhongli smiles, “I’m sure they will agree to go outside of the abode more. We can all explore different areas of Mondstadt, Liyue, and Inazuma together.” He places his hand over yours, gently squeezing your hand.

“I’m a little nervous about exploring more of the regions.” You sighed, resting your head on Zhongli’s shoulders. “What if we run into some trouble while doing so?” You ask, looking up at Zhongli.

“We will protect you,” Zhongli says simply; you shook your head.

“What if you guys end up getting injured because you were all trying to protect me from harm?” You whispered.

Zhongli gently grabs you by the chin and tilts your head up, making eye contact with you. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, giving you a small reassuring smile. You feel your face heat up for the thousandth time today.

“There’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N]. We’re all capable of protecting one another and staying away from danger. If we can protect you just fine, we can protect one another without any issues.” Zhongli says, giving you a small smile.

“Promise?” You squeaked, holding up your hand for a pinky promise. Zhongli stares at you in confusion before chuckling to himself. He held up his hand before locking his pinky with yours.

“It’s a promise,” Zhongli says. You smile at Zhongli before resuming resting your head on his shoulders, pinkies still intertwined with each other.

“Watch this, Itto!” Childe says, nudging the oni with an evil smirk on his face. He takes a sip from his boba before filling the straw with just tapioca pearls. Childe began shooting a large number of wet tapioca pearls at Itto, causing Itto to shriek with laughter.

“Oh, it’s on Childe!” Itto smirks, loading his straw with tapioca balls before shooting them at the Harbinger. Itto and Childe continue to blow tapioca pearls at one another, causing them to fly all over the place. One tapioca ball, in particular, ended up hurdling towards you and Zhongli, smacking you right in the face, before bouncing off of Zhongli’s forehead. The two of you jumped, startled at the sudden contact.

“What was that?” You muttered, touching the area where the tapioca pearls had hit you. Your face scrunched up at the feeling of the sliminess and cold of the tapioca balls.

“Ajax, Itto.” You and Zhongli look over at Itto and Childe with a scolding look. Itto and Childe froze in fear before running off to where Diluc and Kaeya sat while sipping on their boba.

“How much longer are they going to be like this?” You sighed weakly. It’s been only a day, but it felt like an eternity. As much as you enjoyed having the fourteen men as children because of how adorable they are, it doesn’t stop a few of them (Childe and Itto) from being troublemakers and rambunctious. You just hope that Albedo is able to figure out how to reverse the potion and get them all back to their usual selves, or else you and Zhongli will have to play house until they are all back to normal. Although, you didn’t mind playing house with Zhongli. You were able to catch a glimpse of what Zhongli would be like if he were a father and a husband. The mere thought of being married to Zhongli and having a family with Zhongli made your heart flutter in your chest, your cheeks burning from the constant teasing coming from Zhongli’s end.

“I wish I have the answers to your question,” Zhongli says, taking a sip from his cup. “But unfortunately, I don’t have any answers.” He frowns.

“As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be okay.” You give Zhongli a small smile. Zhongli presses a kiss on the top of your head, resting his cheek on your head while Xiao continues to drink from his boba cup.

“‘m tired,” Venti says, rubbing his eyes before letting out a huge yawn. You gently took the cup away from Venti, situating him in the child carrier sling. Venti leaned his head on your chest before letting out another yawn.

“Looks like it’s time for us to head back to the abode for the children to rest, don’t you think?” You murmured, caressing the back of Venti’s head. You looked over at Xiao, seeing him slowly dozing off in Zhongli’s arms, his head tilted forward.

“It appears so.” A smile appears on Zhongli’s face; he takes the now empty boba cup from Xiao’s hands.

“Alright, kids!” You said, getting up from your seat. “Let's head back to the abode. I believe that it’s nap time for everyone.”

“I’m not feeling sleepy at all.” Diluc protests, getting up from his spot with Kaeya.

“Yeah, me neither! I think it’s just Xiao and Venti that needed a nap the most.” Kaeya says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, if you don’t need a nap, then that’s fine. We should head back to the abode before lunch.” You said, ruffling Diluc and Kaeya’s hair.

“It’s not even lunchtime yet?” Thoma asks, his eyes widening in shock.

“Today feels like a really long day.” Ayato sighs, throwing his boba cup into the nearby trash.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Baizhu hums, tossing his empty cup into the recycling bin with a yawn.

“Looks like you need a nap too, Baizhu.” Zhongli chuckles, standing up before stretching. The bottom of Zhongli’s shirt lifts up slightly, revealing his lower stomach. You quickly looked away and cleared your throat.

“Albedo, did you get the butterflies that you need for the strengthening concoction?” You ask as he approaches you and Zhongli with Dainsleif tailing behind.

“Yes, I got the butterflies that are needed for the concoction.” Albedo nods his head.

“We also collected some Naku weed for the concoction to hopefully return us back to our usual self,” Dainsleif added, holding up a pile of Naku weed.

“How are you so sure that the Naku weed will help us turn back into our regular state?” Kazuha asks, looking at Dainsleif and Albedo curiously.

“Let’s not question the alchemist that got us into this situation.” Scaramouche sighs, leaning against your leg before letting out a small yawn.

“Yeah, let’s go home before any of us fall asleep,” Gorou says, clutching onto Zhongli’s pant leg. Zhongli smiles and places a gentle hand on Gorou’s head, lightly scratching his ears, causing Gorou to hum in delight, leaning further into Zhongli’s hands. You smiled at the adorable sight before strapping the children back onto the backpack leash. The last thing you would want to deal with is children running around Inazuma City. After putting the twelve children on their backpack leashes, the fourteen of you began to walk out of the city. While you, Zhongli, and the children were walking back to where the teapot sat, a couple approached both you and Zhongli.

“Excuse me, are these your children?” The woman asks, looking down at the twelve children curiously.

“Of course they are; why?” You ask, looking at the man and woman warily.

“Oh, we were just wondering because there’s so many of them. Plus, the children do not look like their parents at all.” The woman says casually, giving you a fake smile.

“You know, adoption is a thing.” You cocked your eyebrow at the woman. She became flustered and began to stutter, her face almost as red as Diluc’s hair.

“Are you implying that my significant other and I kidnapped these children?” Zhongli asks, raising an eyebrow at the couple.

“What! No, no! We’re not accusing the two of you of kidnapping children!” The man sputters, shaking his head in denial.

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to go home in peace now.” You said, brushing by the couple with your left arm linked with Zhongli’s right arm. The children glared at the couple before letting out a huff of breath, shoving through them while giggling mischievously.

“The sheer audacity of that woman.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “People have no shame these days, I swear.” You sighed.

Once you, Zhongli, and the fourteen children got back to the abode, everything felt like a blur. Despite the entire day dragged on and it felt like an eternity. The last thing you remembered before nightfall was feeding them and having to give the children a bath before changing them into their pajamas right before making dinner for the children— which ended up being a disaster. The bath part was a disaster.

Has anyone ever witnessed an archon chasing around a couple of naked children just to give them a bath? Well, needless to say, you’re the first person to have ever witnessed it with your very own eyes. It was a comical sight! You nearly died laughing while Zhongli gave you the “help me dammit!” look as he was chasing around the giggling naked children. You ended up giving in because you felt bad for watching the archon struggle to catch these energetic and devious children to bathe them.

After the whole bathing fiasco, you and Zhongli made them all dinner. The children are all fresh and clean; they all sit in the living room, occupied with Albedo’s attempt to make the potion that’ll turn them back to their usual selves. They crowded around Albedo, watching him fix the ingredients to make the concoction.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Kaeya asks, peeking from Albedo’s shoulders to see what Albedo is putting into the glass flask.

“It should work! I’m sure these are the actual ingredients this time. I’m almost done, so we can all drink this before dinner starts.” Albedo says, lifting the glass flask up while mixing it with a stirring rod.

“Wait, is this the strengthening concoction, or is this some concoction that’ll turn us all back to normal?” Kazuha asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The blue-green liquid was swirling around in the glass flask; it was almost glittery by the way the light was reflecting off of the concoction. It looks pretty but also intimidating because the boys didn’t know whether it would turn them back to normal or make it worse.

Before Albedo could answer, Zhongli called them all to the dining room for dinner while setting up the dinner table. Albedo quickly finishes up, adding a few ingredients to the potion and mixing the ingredients together. Albedo hands the small test tube to each person. They all downed the concoction, wincing at the taste of the elixir.

“Well, it doesn’t taste nearly as bad as the first one did.” Ayato clears his throat, wincing at the aftertaste of the elixir.

The boys quickly cleaned up and organized the small lab corner that Albedo had set up before walking over to where dinner was waiting for them to ingest. Even though the boys wanted to tell you and Zhongli that they had ingested another round of mystery concoction that was made by Albedo, they were worried that they would jinx it if they were to do so. So, they remained silent and began to eat the food that both you and Zhongli had prepared for everyone to eat.

Dinner was pretty tamed and quiet—small comments here and there, mainly from you and Zhongli. The little flirtation between you and Zhongli was evident to the fourteen children. Even though they are all children and couldn’t do many things about it, they had to sit idly by and watch Zhongli get you all for himself.

For the remaining time during dinner, they were all pouting. Whenever Zhongli would make a comment that would make you blush, the boys would interrupt with a random comment. They were trying to cockblock Zhongli, and it was hilarious to see. While the boys expected Zhongli to lose his temper and snap at them, he actually kept his cool and acted as if the boys had never interrupted him at all. Whenever you were eating and had a small crumb at the corner of your lips, Zhongli would wipe it away with his thumb while keeping eye contact with you.

Sometimes, you would squish his cheeks with your hands when you thought the children weren’t watching. The only time you knew that they were watching was when Venti or Xiao started being fussy, whining for your attention. Right after dinner, you were about to tuck them all into bed (after brushing their teeth). But they all protested and suggested that they wanted to sleep with you in your bedroom.

“I don’t think I can fit fourteen children on my bed. I don’t have much space on my bed except for one other person aside from me.” You said, stroking your chin.

“What? Is that other person Zhongli?” Scaramouche asks, looking over at Zhongli with a pout on his face.

“Hehe….” You giggled shyly.

“No! I forbid!” Childe protests, throwing himself at you with tears in his eyes.

“You forbid what?” You cooed, lifting Childe up in your arms before lightly pinching his cheeks. Childe lets out a series of sniffles before wrapping his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Us turning into children put Zhongli fifteen steps ahead of us!” Itto wails, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

“If you’re going to sleep in the same bed as Zhongli, then we will have to sleep in the same bed as you!” Dainsleif declares, crossing his arms over his chest with a faint pout on his face. Dainsleif was never outright affectionate with you, but he does show it subtly.

“Yes, I agree with what Dainsleif says!” Ayato nods his head, shuffling up to you while dragging Thoma with him.

“Just to make sure there’s no funny business going on, that’s all!” Thoma adds, giving you an innocent smile while rocking back and forth on the tip and heel of his toes.

“Funny business?” Gorou asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

You sighed and glanced over at Zhongli; he quirked an eyebrow at you, causing you to become flustered. For some reason, the way Zhongli raised an eyebrow at you was so attractive. Zhongli is just effortlessly perfect, and it was unfair that he has this kind of impact on you.

“Looks like we’ll all be taking a nap in the living room.” You said, turning around to walk out of your bedroom with the boys and Zhongli following after you. “I’ll bring out the extra blankets and pillows.” You said, walking down the stairs with Childe still clinging onto you while Zhongli held both Xiao and Venti in his arms as he walked down the stairs.

“Do you want me to bring out the extra-large mattress we have stored in the closet?” Zhongli asks; you nod your head.

“Yes, please. At first, I thought it was odd for Itto to bring home a huge mattress out of the blue, but this is the perfect time to use it.” You chuckled, placing Childe down on the ground. You pulled out extra pillows and blankets from the same closet where the huge mattress is stored. Zhongli placed the mattress down in front of the couch before helping you prepare the bed, putting bed sheets on the mattress, and tossing a series of pillows onto the bed before organizing them.

“So, we’re all sleeping on this one giant bed?” Diluc asks, patting the giant mattress.

“It seems like it.” Baizhu nods his head, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“It’s getting late; we should go to bed now.” You said, walking over to the light switches before switching them off. The only thing that kept the living room illuminated was the small nightlight that was plugged into the corner of the living room. The minute you sat down on the bed, the children climbed onto the bed, arguing over who could lay next to you. Zhongli lays down beside you, and Xiao plops on top of Zhongli, snuggling up against the archon. Xiao subconsciously begins to suck on his thumbs, making you coo at the adorable sight.

“It’s like Xiao is your child, Zhongli.” You poked Zhongli’s cheeks as you lay down. Before Zhongli could reply, the boys piled on top of you. You grunted when someone accidentally kneed you in the stomach; Venti was lying on top of your chest, almost asleep. You can hear other children around you grumble in discontentment, muttering about how they wanted to cuddle on your chest, but the spot was occupied by an eleven-month-old anemo archon.

“Hey, be careful.” Zhongli sighs, shaking his head in disapproval while the boys quietly bickered over who gets to lay on your arms and who doesn’t. You ended up laying your head on Zhongli’s right arm while the children were scattered on top of you.

“Are you comfortable?” Zhongli asks softly; you nod your head with a soft hum.

“I am, but the number of children laying on top of me isn’t so comfortable.” You laughed softly, brushing Venti’s bangs away from his face.

“Do you want me to move them?” Zhongli asks. You shook your head in response.

“Nah, I think we can move them when they fall asleep.” You said, brushing a stray hair away from Zhongli’s face with a tired smile. “We should get some sleep now.” You whispered, letting out a yawn.

Zhongli presses a kiss on the side of your head, “Goodnight, [Y/N].” He whispers into your ears. You feel goosebumps forming on your arms, heat rushing to your cheeks at the proximity between you and Zhongli. You swallowed the forming lump in your throat before snuggling up against Zhongli with a content smile. Even though today felt slow and was crazy, you were glad that Zhongli was there to help you with everything. From assisting you with handling the unruly children to feeding the children, you will forever be grateful for Zhongli and everything he has done for you.

“Goodnight, Zhongli.” You feel Venti snuggle up against your chest, tightening his grip on your shirt. You gently stroked Venti’s head, slowly closing your eyes. Soon, you drifted off to sleep to the sound of soft snores coming from the children around you.

The very next day, you woke up to the feeling of a heavy chest. You cracked your eyes open, only to see Venti peering down at you with a cheeky smile as he was straddling your waist, caging you in between his arms.

“Venti! You’re back to normal!” You squeaked, gently pushing him off of you so you could sit up on the bed.

“Technically, we’re all back to normal.” Xiao sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re really comfortable to sleep on, [Y/N]!” Venti chirps, snuggling up against you with a smile on his face.

“That’s a relief.” You sighed, feeling the tension leaving your body as you struggled to get up from the bed. Diluc and Baizhu help you get up from the bed, clearing their throats awkwardly.

“You’d make a fantastic parent one day, [Y/N],” Diluc says, his cheeks bright red.

“I agree! Although it’s been only a day, I believe that you’ll be a fantastic parent.” Baizhu smiles, patting the top of your head.

“Zhongli would be a terrifying father. So strict.” Childe shivers, ignoring the glare the shirtless archon was giving him. Wait, shirtless?

“Why are you shirtless? Although, I don’t mind seeing you shirtless.” You giggled, covering your reddening cheeks.

“Xiao drooled on me, and I needed to change my shirt,” Zhongli says simply, causing the yaksha to sputter in response. His face was bright red from Zhongli’s response. How dare Zhongli reveals to you that he drools in his sleep! This was one of the reasons why he rarely sleeps, other than the fact that adeptis don’t need sleep to be able to function. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the thought of Xiao drooling on Zhongli’s chest, completely knocked out and unaware of the puddle of drool forming beneath his cheeks as he slept.

“I’m relieved that the concoction was able to return us back to normal. It would be a shame if we all remained as children for quite a while.” Albedo says, entering the room in his usual attire.

“I honestly wouldn’t mind it at all!” You said, lightly pinching Scaramouche’s cheeks with a smile on your face. Scaramouche grumbled incoherent words to himself with his arms crossed over his chest, continuing to let you squeeze his cheeks.

“After all, you guys are pretty adorable children. And also rambunctious and quite troublesome.” You said, looking over at Childe and Itto, who were trying to act casual.

“Now that you got to experience the parenthood with Zhongli over here, would you want to experience the parenthood with the one and oni?” Itto asks, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you up against his chest.

“Ha! Get in line, Itto.” Kaeya snorts, pulling you away from Itto with a small glare.

“As if you’re the only one that wants to experience parenthood with [Y/N].” Gorou huffs, grabbing onto your arm while shooting a glare in Itto’s direction.

“Hehe, I don’t think I’ll be a parent any time soon, but I don’t mind being one.” You said, scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish smile on your face.

“I just find it unfair how we all turned into children except for Zhongli, and Zhongli was able to experience parenthood with [Y/N],” Kazuha says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! It was unfair!” Thoma frowns, looking away from everyone with a tiny pout as he sulks silently.

“Did you guys see how the two of them flirted with each other?” Scaramouche asks, looking over at you and Zhongli with a look of disapproval. The men grumbled in agreement, nodding their heads.

“Yeah! Right in front of us and everything!” Childe grumbles, sulking beside Thoma.

“All right, all right, let's save this talk for later. We still need to eat breakfast.” Dainsleif says, rolling his eyes at the sulking men.

You don’t know what’s waiting for you after breakfast, but you know for sure that the men will be questioning you on whether you would want to be a parent with a particular man or all of them. While you don’t mind being a parent with the men, what you do mind is what these nonexistent children would be like. Would they be like the men, or would they be the complete opposite of the men? The real question is, would you even be in Teyvat long enough to be a parent with one of the men or all of the men?

Note: Since I have a few weeks of class left, I'm just hoping that I can start taking requests soon, around June. I have, like, 4 requests from people and I haven't fulfilled those yet. I will start on them once this semester is completed. But we'll see how things go because, for some reason, fate is never in my favor. Please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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tigertale · 1 year

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A/N: Is it bad that I can relate a little too much to Yuuya? Anyway, reader is insecure and Ace is an ass. A good 10k words??? I can't assure you a good quality throughout the entire fic

A/N 2: I died and revived halfway through writing the fic and the scenario went brrr (started this during December 2022 oops)

F!Reader; Ace

•〔　！〕Smut; First time; Grammatical errors; Not proofread

Ace looked at the sorry excuse the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm was.

She had unconsciously curled up into her seat, not because of the light almost see through clothes that served as a poor excuse for pajamas, but most probably because of how insecure she was about getting closer to the boy. And the sight made the clench in his ribs almost unbearable.

He was kind of stupid wasn't he? Suddenly barging into her place in the middle of the night despite having insulted her a few hours ago. It had taken for her to properly guide the unlucky chandelier group — aka him, the magicless student, whoever this dormmate of his was and a highly sensitive beast — through the obstacle the mine monster was for him to realize that she wasn't as boring as what he had told her. And now that he was before her, he remembered how he had never properly apologized.

He opened his mouth, but it seemed that the two of them had the same idea as their voices overlapped over one another. It resulted in an awkward silence that became a just as awkward game of "you first." And his persistence made him win the game.

Her knees brushed against one another as she tried to get her words out. "I know that the couch is not comfortable, so if you want you can always sleep in my bed." Eh? That was even more unexpected than what he had imagined. Didn't she mean that she wanted him to leave? Wasn't she supposed to be angry at him for how he had belittled her so far? And he made sure to voice those thoughts to her.

"I guess that… I am a little angry about that. But I don't like being caught in problems, and I don't want you to sleep under the rain too." The water drop that hit his face empathized her claim. As he wept it off his cheek with the back of his blazer and cursed the shady state of the building, he thought about how kind she was. Too much even. He was not one to be bothered by such things, but he was oh so guilty when she would selflessly try to bring him comfort — and at the back of his mind, the idea that someone other than would take advantage of it surely grew to become something he feared.

He drapped his arms over the back of the sofa, a playful smile hanging on his lips. "So~ You're okay with letting me sleep in your bed? You can't take it back once you've said yes!" A yelp left his mouth as a coil found fun by jabbing his behind.

"I've already proposed it to you… I can't just take it back now." Right! That's why he had said that she was boring. She had never talked back, they had been glued to each other for an entire day but she was just being placide and let everything unfold before her. It was a shame, especially after he had seen how she had the power to easily fix problems and had a complex yet interesting way of thinking. But so, at least he didn't have to beg to have things go his way. It would've been awkward to use the argument of his slim body to gain even the slightest bit of sympathy.

"Then come on, lead the way." She sighed as she got up, clearly displeased by the way he was addressing her, but not wanting to express it.

After they had entered the room, she had gone straight to bed, watching from time to time as he got himself ready to sleep. The urge to tease her about it died whenever he looked at her. Her eyes, expressing how expectant she was for him to finish, stopped him from doing so. And the way she was coddled up under the cover like a child made the guilt come back. She looked cute like that, and that was a damn stupid thought for him to have.

He eventually slid under the cover, his buttoned up shirt was partially open and he had kept his trousers on to keep some kind of decency. She did mention that he was allowed to sleep in his underwear after he had jokingly asked about it, arguing that she was used to it as she had brothers, and if needed she could put pillows in-between them. It may have been too straightforward for him, and before he could properly think about it he had already disagreed saying that it was only a joke.

Minutes passed where the two of them thought about the one by their side in silence. Their reflexions going from a simple "he's stupid" to more complex ones. And Ace was not one to keep himself from expressing his opinions. If he had something to say, then he would say it. "You're too kind, you know? Think about yourself more, you need to strengthen yourself a bit." It broke the stillness between them.

She shuffled under the cover, pulling it even higher above her face as if to hide it. Not that he could even see her half lidded eyes, dropped with sadness, to begin with as it was too dark. "Am I not already?" He turned towards her, unconsciously trying to make out the shape of her face despite knowing that he couldn't. "I'm "kind" as you say, but for me it's only a mean to avoid any problems that can be an obstacle to my peace. I just want to be comfortable, and I'll do anything to be. Isn't that egoism?" The silence that followed made her question her words, forgetting about the boy laying beside her. Just like everyone she had needs that had to be fulfilled, and those needs were the only thing that pushed her forward despite the hole in her heart. If she couldn't have her family by her side, if she couldn't let go of this loneliness, she could at least work out something that will compensate and make her forget about those worries.

"You're as kind as you're dumb to say things like that without hesitation." She almost choked at his words, and the snickers that followed let her understand that he had found fun in her short surprise. Part of the dip beside her disappeared as he sat up. "Shit I've never imagined talking about this kind of stuff so late at night… So what? Now it's selfish to wish for something and to work for it? And you could've just given me the sofa, but you've still offered me the bed because I could've caught a cold. If you feel that you have any obligation related to my health then you might as well be kind." A whine left the back of her throat before she could have stopped it.

She hated those words. "Kind." She was just a normal and average human being, she didn't like those labels that would be thrown at her whether she liked it or not. It was distressing in a way how some people felt the need to put nice words for her as if she had deserved it.

The mattress once again dipped, but this time on each side of her face. She was surprised that his hands were caging her head and his hot breath fawning over her face. He was on all four above her, he had moved so swiftly she had barely had the time to register it. "It seems to me that you're just overthinking." She felt the heat of his body licking her skin as he got closer to her, his arms bending and allowing him to do so. "I can try and make you forget about it, what do you think?"

He patiently waited, knowing that it may seem to her that his request was out of the blue. But she was oh so tempting, and he couldn't stop thinking about her ever since they had left each other after the mine incident. He had never been interested in these kinds of things but somehow she was messing with his internal compass, messing with his mind and reminding him that he was still so full of needs that were left unattended for a while already. And hey, she needed to get rid of those intrusive thoughts, and he wanted her. So he might as well kill two birds with one stone.

"Do you have a condom?" A what now? She let out another sigh, one that he knew he would get accustomed to, and traced the side of his face with the tip of her fingers.

"It doesn't seem like you had sex before." Now he was surprised. For her to say such crude words without any shame but at the same time struggling to tell him off when he was annoying her. And the way he just shut himself off made her assume that she was right (and she was.) "I'm not more experienced than you, but I know a thing or two. And I know that we need a condom."

"Why? It's not like you can get pregnant on your first time?" The high pitched noise that rang through the room as she slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand was way more effective in letting Ace know just how stupid she thought he was than a mere sigh.

"I… don't think that I have the willpower to explain things in-depth to you at the moment." She gently took his hands and sat up to be at the same level as where she believed his face was. "Just know that yes I can, and we won't do a thing without a condom." She plopped herself back in the bed and set herself back to sleep.

"Sleep tight, Ace. Have nice dreams."

He had yet to move from where he was kneeling. She had put an end so easily to the conversation, he was even doubting that it had ever happened. What the hell were those things she knew, and why was he curious to hear about it? But eventually he came back to the problem at hand as he settled too on his side of the bed. "Where am I even supposed to get those?"

"800 students, some of them are bound to develop some kind of physical relationship." He hummed at that, as if to say that he was giving it some thought even if he didn't care about it. "The infirmary must give some condoms to avoid STDs. Or there's a shop on the way here, maybe they're selling some there." Oh so she was telling him where to look for those. As much as he liked the idea of getting close to her —and wow, it was his first time ever wanting someone this much— he didn't trust himself to actually have the courage to buy them. Even imagining getting them was enough of a hassle for him. Having condoms was not his top priority and he was lazy just thinking about them.

"Thanks I guess." Well too bad, they won't have sex. But maybe that was a good thing. He was not one to follow societal wildly spread conceptions (as your first-time was important) but maybe that this once, it wouldn't be a bad thing to listen to them.

_____

He came back the very next day. Condom in hand.

Now, to avoid any misunderstanding, it would be nice to mention that he wasn't desperate enough to get them. If anything he had told himself that he wouldn't get them and that he should just forget about getting more intimate with her.

Yet, it had seemed that his dorm had other plans. His senior, Cater he believed his name was, had suddenly given him a handful of those plastic packages of various sizes. "Riddle's order! Every frosh are to be safe!☆" He had said when he saw how appalled Ace was. It was actually more of the nurse's order after she had chewed Crowley out for the lack of security in the school. He also added that they were to have every size to be sure to have something that fits them, it would be bad if it was too small for them to wear, right? Not every dorm was particularly uptight about this rule, and even fewer of them tried to hand them the right size — so far only Heartslabyul and Pomefiore had made this kind effort. While Riddle wasn't exactly fond of this rule, rules are rules and he still cared for those under him, so he might as well go all out.

Now the school's problem had become his, and he didn't know how to approach her. He was already in front of the rundown building after asking his dormhead the permission to sleep at her place, but how should he bring the subject back? He didn't care about how others may see him, but she was somehow a different story.

After taking a deep breath, he knocked. It didn't take long for the door to open and he cheerfully greeted her, a hand scratching the back of his head. "Hey prefect! You don't mind me crashing at your place again, right?" She stared blankly before welcoming him with a small "sure" that led to a dutiful silence. And this awkward smile on her lips was a nightmare to look at. How could it both drive him away but also stir his heart so badly?

As he entered, he finally saw her lack of clothes. The only pair of pants she had had been ditched somewhere and replaced with shorts that could barely be seen above her dirty white blouse. Upon further inspection, her entire body was painted with black spots and her buttoned up shirt had turned a dark brown with whatever liquid had drenched it.

"Errh, what happened to you?" She looked down at her poor state before becoming even more reserved. He was surprised to see her pouting as she awkwardly pulled at her clothes.

"I was trying to see what was wrong with the water heater, I hate having to shower with a bucket." She sighed as she stretched her back, hands placed on her back as she bent backwards. "But the thing is beaten down, there's no way I'll have hot water any time soon." She whined even louder and great seven, it was the first time he had ever heard her being so genuine! She even sounded approachable. If she kept such extraversion, surely the bullying would slowly soften. She wasn't an opportunist after all, and they would come to understand this.

"If you really need, I can always sneak you in my dorm. You won't mind sleeping with me, right?" The smirk that had formed on his lips paired with the boyish popular facial expression made her giggle. What was he trying to do? Didn't he say that sleeping with her was "meh"? (No offense, she did sense that he was joking) She turned around and walked him to the living room, her shoulders still shaking as she tried to hide her laughter.

He marveled at the state of the parlor. He had last entered it less than a day before, but it was vastly different then what he had remembered! She sat him down as he continued to watch his surroundings. "I tried to clean up a bit but it's still dirty… I'm sorry for the mess."

"What are you? A perfectionist?" She may have only removed a few paintings and thrown a worn out blanket over the sofa, it was enough for the room to change. "This is good enough." She gently laughed, still not quite sure how to react to the compliment.

Knowing the person Ace was —or at least had a semblance of an idea of it— she tried not to let the silence between them linger and asked him if he wanted to sit so as to not make things awkward. It may have had the contrary effect because he was frowning as he made himself comfortable on the couch. And when she asked if he wanted a coffee to drink he just snapped.

"What are you? An old woman? Stop acting like one, shit. 'Is so fucking boring…" He grumbled the last part and crossed his arms. His annoyed eyes were sending daggers as she was left trying to find her words, mouth repeatedly opening and closing.

She eventually brought her fist up and coughed inside after finally snapping out of her surprise. "So… why did you come here?" She tried not to think much of his words. They only fed her insecurities, but if she were to express them right now, wouldn't it just confirm what he had said? If anything, she had learnt that talking about feelings was considered "boring" by most people her age. "And what's up with the bag?" She tried to change the subject by pointing said object with a finger, but it actually made him uneasy.

He tried to answer, catching himself multiple times to rectify and find the right words before eventually giving up. Instead he gave her said bag. "Condoms." He said right when she opened it.

Much to his displeasure, the silence that they (more like she, he didn't make any efforts so far to make her feel better) had tried so hard to push away all this time had finally found its way in their conversation. She was carefully processing what was before her and by the time she had eventually come to accept what it was, he had become a small puddle of sweat.

"I didn't expect you to have so much in so little time." He blushed furiously at that and took the bag back. He was furious, seething, by what she was implying. He was NOT a pervert! And he wouldn't let her think so! Or that's what he tried to convince himself to think because he sure as hell was more embarrassed about it than angry. After all, it's the exact image he didn't want her to have about him.

But she was far from thinking this and– no, actually, a part of her was impressed by how obsessed and eager he may have been, even if that's not the actual case.

"Hey dumbass! What makes you think I prepared all of these?!" He sat back down, putting all his plastic square packages in between his legs. One hand was tightly gripping his thigh while the other was hiding his bright red face from her. "Some older guy in my dorm gave me those, apparently it's a dorm rule for every student to receive them at the beginning of the year…" His voice barely escaped from his fingers, only managing to come out as an almost indescribable grumbling.

"Then it's a good coincidence for us." She came closer to him and much to his embarrassment, she put a hand in the bag, grazing her hand against and stimulating his growing hard on as she rummaged through it to grab a few of the small packages. She eventually fished out a couple of the condoms, and showed them off to the boy. "So which one's your size?"

"How the hell should I know?"

She deflated at that. "Come on, every boy has measured it at least once. Isn't it important for you all to know about it —so you can compare it in the boy locker room?" The last part wasn't pronounced, but her understood her innuendo. He did actually measure it, but he wasn't going to talk about it so casually. His lack of answer only pulled a sigh out of her, one that quickly made him cower inside the uncomfortable sofa. She had moved to be on her knees, a soothing hand caressing his thighs as she looked up at him. "If you really don't know then I'll have to try each one of them. One by one."

Her fingers started playing with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it open with an ease that almost made him question if she really was new to this. "W- Wait!" He stopped what she was doing by taking her hands in his. She looked at him, fixating on something other than the clothed bulge that was now out for her to see. "What a-are you doing? I- I'm not-... I mean no! I-I a…m actually…!"

She nodded and pulled her hands down against her bent knees. He sighed at her action, but quickly straightened back. There was no way in hell she had understood what he was trying to say, so why was she nodding understandingly. There were many ways for her to misinterpret it, and if she actually did, he didn't know what he would do–

"Ah yes, consent. I understand if you don't want to. I got ahead of myself and thought we were about to do it, I'm deeply sorry for assuming things and—"

He cut her off with an undignified "eeh?!" that made her tilt her head to the side. "Where the hell is this story about consent coming from?" She was about to answer but he shook his head from side to side. "You know what, I don't even want to know." He continued talking, explaining that what he was actually trying to say was his size. Dick size. And that she didn't have to test each condom.

She picked up and ripped a packet of the right size open with a relieved sigh. "I was honestly scared of wasting so much condoms." She took the rubber out and examined it closely before watching the lubricant stretching into a bridge between her fingers. "I've never actually put a condom on something before so it's a first for me." She put it back on the opened package and went back to working with his now rocking hard cock.

"Please don't be too harsh with me."

He gulped down the excess of saliva to try and cool off his face. She was adorable like that, pulling out his member, or more it being freed and slapping her square in the face. She let out a dissatisfied sound as she rubbed her eyes from the precum that had gotten on her eyelids.

"You're not circumcised." She pulled the foreskin down to let the head of his cock free for her to see. If the precum was a lot before, now that the tip was out in the open, she could see just how much of a mess it was. She hummed as she circled the hole at the very top of it and enjoyed each of his twitching. "I've never seen an uncircumcised one so close… but don't worry, as long as you're clean, I'm down for you." She let out a string of "hehe" that made his blood pump faster. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back so that she could directly connect her eyes with his.

"Stop joking around already." She agreed to do so in a tone that almost made him question whether she would really do it or not, and went back to her forgotten condom.

She recited, one by one, every step needed to put a condom on under her breath, guiding herself into doing it as Ace visibly didn't have much knowledge. Once it was done, she brightened up and happily clapped his thigh, which made him hiss with pain.

"In one go!" She happily said with a proud smile that was all too bright for him. His fingers that were still planted into the root of her hair brought her attention back to the twitching member in front of her by angling it back to where it was at first.

"A-Ah wait… I'm a bit nervous… I've never done this before." But she was only shoved forward as an answer, her cheek planting against his pelvis. His penis was now right before her nose and mockingly staring back.

"Then you'll learn." She timidly sniffed it, something that took him aback.

She pecked it at first, trying to see how it would go, and the first impression being quite good, she switched to small stripes being licked along his shaft. While it was rather tasteless for her, his breath was heavy and his body had become unbearably hot.

He popped a few buttons of his shirt open, letting his chest breath as she moved to the base of his dick where two fingers were tightly pressing it. He didn't expect to feel all of her touches so vividly with a condom on, but she had once again found a way to surprise him.

His fingers moved from the back, where he painfully was gripping the small hairs along her nape, to the top of her head when she finally shifted her attention back to the tip of his shaft. A hand still lingered at the base where she kept a tight grip while the other was pumping up and down.

It started with small kisses that quickly became her pumping his cock in her mouth. The first try had left her a coughing mess, but the second was much more successful after making her hand into a fist. He did marvel for a second at the technique, wondering if it would actually work, but his mind went into shambles when the warmth of her cavity wrapped his lower half in a steamy hug.

She tried to peek up at him, wanting to see his facial expression, but couldn't do so as his hand only but pressed her further down his aching shaft. Later, when he would cum inside the plastic protection, she would have the time to see it as he would bask into his aftermath.

And it may have come earlier than what she had expected because he removed himself from her mouth not long after. He fisted his rod as he kept her in front of him. Was it because he wanted to get off to her face or because he imagined her covering with his cum? He didn't know, but both were good endings for him.

He eventually came, the condom swelling with the amount of sperm he had let out and she just watched, fascinated, as it did so. He came rather fast, but she was not worried at all, and she was ready to comfort him if he ever felt down about it. It was normal for a first-time, and she was more curious about the taste than the time.

"Was it good?" She asked as she started to take the condom off. She carefully carved the sight of his flushed face, drooling and seemingly fucked out of his mind, in her memories. She was not one to masturbate, but this image could only become a great fantasy for her to get off to for the next following days.

He let out a small moan as he stretched his back and tilted his head down to see what she was doing. "Yeah, I didn't expect it to be so good actually." Thankfully he had finished his words in time, she had started to remove the condom, and he feared just how embarrassing it would have been if he had to explain why he had stopped talking halfway through. She was pushing every last bit of his cum out of the plastic and onto the tongue she had stuck out.

A humm left her as she swallowed it all, a thumb passing over her lips and chin to pick any leftovers before popping it inside her mouth. "It's kind of sweet. You should watch your diet." He groaned as she merely laughed.

"Shut up. I'm not here for diet advice." His words only made her laugh harder.

But she quickly came to a stop. "Ah wait, that was a bad move." She got up and dusted herself with a sigh under his curious eyes. "You can still get STDs by swallowing semence."

"Are you implying that I have STDs?" It seemed to get on his nerves, and she quickly tried to reiterate her words.

She sat on his legs and shook her head. "No, but there's always a possibility even if you're a virgin." For whatever reason, the last word made him frown even more. Why do boys his age have to be so hard to work with? His ego was truly something else. "There's also a possibility that I have those, so don't take it as something personal. I'm just trying to make you pick up good habits."

But he didn't listen. Now that she was on him, he could feel her warm and dripping cunt on his limp manhood. Even with two layers of clothes, it was impossibly wet and coated him with her juice. He had put two hands on her hips as she was talking and had started to grind her against him.

She quickly saw what he was doing and gently wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her back to press her chest against his open one. "You've barely come a minute ago, shouldn't you wait before going back to it?" But he merely groaned as an answer and buried his face in the junction of her neck.

He continued his movements, which have been gradually increasing in force, as her heavy breath picked up with the pace and blessed his ears.

Still pressed against him, she slid to fingers in-between their body to continue his previous work. The last buttons of his shirt were popped open and she removed the piece of cloth from him.

"Aaah… W- Wait…" she gently pushed her hands against his chest and backed from the rod grinding against her. "We need another condom." He mindlessly nodded but felt awfully frustrated when her fingers left him to search for a new piece of rubber.

She did the same as before after opening the package, saying aloud what she was doing as she pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it over his shaft.

He curiously watched as she raised herself above his rocking hard erection, her expression rather unsure and her bottom lip tightly grasped in-between her teeth. "Uh, shouldn't I prepare you or something." He was not one to care much about others, but surely she wasn't about to put herself through pain, right?

She flushed at his words and nervously tapped his shoulders. "Don't worry… We'll just go slowly." She had thought that he had forgotten about it all. With how uncomfortable she was with her body, she thought it would be best for her to just skip such steps so she could avoid any types of embarrassment. Surely the pain won't be so bad if they were to take their time.

He didn't push her further on, thankfully for her, and she slowly pushed herself against him. And maybe that she should have thought twice about this lame idea because she had to stop when the tip was barely in. The blush on his cheeks came back when she once again pressed her chest to his, except this time hissing and twitching.

A few minutes passed where the two of them were too engrossed in both their current fixation — him enjoying the feel of her clothed breasts against him and her laboured breath, and she, focusing on his fast beating heart, before he came back to the current situation at hand. "Uhh, you're sure you're good?"

"Yeah…Yeah yeah." She mindlessly nodded as she took the chance to continue her way down his shaft. Despite the slight uncomfortable feeling of being full, she had indeed relaxed. She eventually came to a stop when her ass was pressed against his thighs and it pulled a moan out of him that she gladly let her ego feed on.

"Uh, you seem to like it." He didn't answer, his mind far too gone for him to properly care about the comment. He still buried his face in the crook of her neck when he felt her sliding off his cock.

She was using his shoulders as a leverage, two tight hands marking his skin with the crescent shapes of her nails, and slowly pulled herself upwards. At the same time, his face followed the shape of her body that was pressed against him. His nose ended up brushing her clothed breasts. And the material scratching his skin successfully pulled him out of his reveries.

Once she was high enough, the tip barely peeking from her cunt, she went back down. Although more easily this time. Both of their voice resonated in the empty room, and she was thankful that no-one was around to hear them — or at least they didn't make themselves known and avoided the parlour, which was just as good actually.

He was tempted to dig his fingers in the small of her back to switch to a faster pace, but the fabric that was still hiding her upper body was more bothering at the moment. His shaky hands moved to her buttoned up shirt, the way she was bouncing and moaning on top of him almost making him forget about what he was trying to do, and started undoing the buttons one by one. He deemed his mission complete when half of the blouse was open and didn't waste time diving in her breasts to bite and lick whatever parcel of skin was welcoming him.

Her whimpers and hitched breath only increased as shivers would rack her body to the point that she was only but uncontrollably twitching. And when her pace eventually faltered, Ace was sure to take over, two hands grasping her ass and jumping her on his thighs as he continued to shamelessly bite the top of her chest.

The dents of his zipper painfully turned her skin red with every thrust. But in the heat of the moment and the different overlapping sensations, it only further stimulated the coil that was painfully tightening in her lower half and made her voice higher.

She thanked whatever divine being she could imagine, her mind fading to a blank state with each of his trusts inside her and her body so hot that she feared that she would just succumb to it all. Her stomach twisted painfully when his pace suddenly picked up, something that she had never experienced before, and made her wonder if her end was getting closer.

But he stopped right when she felt herself reaching her peak.

He groaned as he let himself rest against the sofa. Now limp, he wasn't maintaining her body up, and she just fell forward against him.

How frustrating it was, her lower half was still pulsating with pleasure, and she couldn't understand why he stopped. "Ace, are you done?" She whispered from his shoulder, where her head was resting. He pressed a hand against his forehead before removing the sweat and hairs sticking on it.

"Uh…" oh he was still very much basking into the aftermath of his climax, and it took a while for her words to be understood by him, she even repeated herself when she heard how lost he was. "Yeah… yeah, shit that was– fucking shit it's-" He tried to utter some kind of answer but his mind was too much of a mess for him to properly think. At least he understood what she said now.

She sighed, tempted to press a kiss against the skin of his neck, but they weren't close enough for her to do it, right? If they were just some kind of one night stand (it's the middle of the afternoon,) they shouldn't kiss, it would be weird, wouldn't it?

She didn't expect her first time to end so abruptly. Yes she didn't hold many expectations, knowing that it would never be perfect, but she was still very upset. She eventually forced herself to think that they weren't even close to begin to even fathom him taking care of her like a boyfriend would, which they weren't.

His half lidded eyes opened wide when she removed herself from him. She had pressed her hand against his chest to help her up, and when his dick fell limp it of her he hissed. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the condom that was full, before focusing on closing the buttons of her shirt. "I'll take a shower first, you'll go after, okay?"

"Why?" Here she was, once again confusing him with her decision.

"You're staying here for the night, continuing the evening clean would be better I think." She's not wrong, but he didn't feel like bathing right now. Yet, before he would voice out his thoughts, she was already closing the door of the parlour behind her. Uh? Why was she so cold? It seemed that she reverted back to her placide and awkward self.

He pursed his lips, annoyed by how the mood just fell flat after her sudden change. As said before, he didn't like holding onto whatever most people deemed as a "social norm", like treating his first-time like something so special that you needed to plan it and idealise it. But her leaving so abruptly somehow sat wrong with him, it even woke him up from his dazed state.

Now he had to wait for both of them to bathe before addressing whatever stupid thing was going through her head. Hopefully it won't take long.

_____

After drinking water and properly washing themselves off of any remaining fluids, they both basked into each other's presence and continued on with their pajama party. He had come late into the afternoon and by the time they had finished cleaning up, the sun was not visible anymore, only a faint gradient of orange and purple was seen.

The bath had been ice cold, thanks to the destroyed water heater, but after lighting the fire in her bedroom's fireplace and placing a few logs inside to keep it alive, it was much more bearable. They both laid on the ground before it, enjoying its heat.

"Are you bipolar or something?" She turned towards him, surprised to see that he was already looking at her. Even more unexpected, he was frowning. Why was he suddenly pissed? It's not like she had done anything… Or perhaps was it her lack of engagement that brought this sudden behaviour? He did mention that she was boring… And she wasn't making her situation after all. "Just talk instead of creating those weird scenarios in your head." He could clearly see on her face that she was not getting any of what he was saying.

She was lost. Was it not her uninteresting self that was annoying him? "Then… What's the problem?" She couldn't see what possibly annoyed him.

"Can't you guess?" Well obviously, it seemed that she couldn't. She was staring at the ceiling absently, uncertain about what he was expecting from her and how she should fulfill these expectations. "Why did you suddenly close yourself after what we did." Oh.

She awkwardly laughed, what was he talking about? Perhaps was he mentioning the brief moment when she realised that they were not close. But it was the truth, they were not, and she shouldn't have open herself to him in hopes of something more.

"It's nothing, really." Her words did nothing to quell the conflicting feelings inside him. As if she could just end the conversation with only a "it's nothing."

"How about you tell me more about the Great Seven." Despite the proposition coming out of the blue, it was far from some kind of random conversation subject. The mirror above the fireplace reminded her, for some mysterious reasons, of the statues of the seven great figures by the school's entrance. And it was a nice way to get out of the chat he wanted to have.

"Why would I even talk about them?"

"Because I'm too dumb?" She was using his words against him uh? Well at least it seems like she was once again getting comfortable with him if she was able to talk back like this. So he just let it go, hoping that one story would be enough for them to continue their previous talk, but when she answered back with a tale of her own world, it was too late.

Ace was still much more reluctant to keep this peace up, starting a "it's boring" streak (hopefully she would just go back to why she had became so cold back in the living room), but one mention of paranormal stories from her world and she had his full attention. Each and every story somehow managed to catch his attention, so much that they didn't see the time flashing before them.

"Aaaah!" She stretched her back, a long tired moan emphasizing the arch of it, which caught his attention. Hey, now that he was thinking about it, she had yet to show herself to him, as in, he still hasn't seen her naked, did heN?

She jumped when she felt his hand sneaking under her loose shirt and barely grazing her skin. But when she turned around, the only thing she saw, and was surprised by, was his focused face as more and more of her body was shown as he moved it higher. "What… What are you doing?"

He hummed, a mischievous smile on his lips. "You escaped our talk there, lemme take a small revenge~" A moan resonated in the room, tuned out by the crackling of the burning wood before them, when she felt another electric shock coursing through her due to his cold finger. And the sound, almost unheard, still managed to stir the heat in his body. Eh, he might as well just go for another round.

He turned her around, much to her confusion, and pulled her down with him. An involuntary sigh left his lips when he felt her breast against his chest. He used to consider himself an ass person, but clearly his judgement was wrong. Not that he would kill for them, but her breast were definitely becoming his fixation.

"Is there a problem Ace?" He groaned, thrusting his lower half against her as an answer.

"Let's do it again." She let an audible "oh" left her mouth before chuckling, her face hidden in his clothes. He could only feel her body, twitching with the laughter she tried so hard to hide, but it was enough for him to frown. Not that he was displeased and annoyed by her reaction, but he definitely was.

She eventually calmed down when she heard him muttering something to himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you in any way." She trailed a ginger along his neck, fixating her gaze on the skin peeking under his shirt. "I just didn't expect you to be so eager…" A strangled huff was heard right after. Clearly, despite her apologetic tone she was far from it, her poorly stopped laugh the most obvious proof he could have ever got.

He wanted to retort back, how could she claim being so apologetic then mock him so easily? But his words died when she pressed her lips against his collarbone. And at the contact, they both froze. Did she… just do what she told herself not to do not even an hour before?

Immediately after she threw herself up, flustered by what she just did. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I just… I don't know what came over me…" Her hands were immediately covering her face shamefully, shielding it from Ace. But the boy was far from being concerned about her shyness, the soft touch of her lips was way more comforting than what he could have possibly thought.

But when the silence they were in stretched more than what she knew shouldn't have been, normally Ace would have made a nasty comment by now, she peeked behind her finger so see what was troubling him. Much to her surprise, his cheeks were turning to a deep red, wide eyes staring at her with confusion. "You don't mind what I did?" Her timidity, this time, didn't seem to anger him, far from it, he was even nodding mindlessly.

It was now or never, right? She bent forward once again, her hot breath fawning over his skin a short instant before she pressed another kiss on the same spot as previously. A deep sigh was heard, and his body relaxed right after. It was good, surprisingly, how her touches were like heaven against his skin. He didn't think of himself as a romantic guy, but maybe that he was just trying to fool himself all this time. Because when her lips dragged lower and lower, forcing her to open his shirt, he knew damn well that he was too far gone for her.

And now that he had her draped all over himself, relishing into the way she was covering his body with all types of affection, the fact that they had never once kissed each other suddenly made him restless.

"Hey, prefect." She separated herself from his chest where she was lavishing him with her own praises. The rope of spit connecting his perked up nipple from her lower lips made an uncontrollable shiver run along his spine.

"Hmm?" She sat on his stomach, waiting for whatever he was going to say. But how unexpected it was, for him to suddenly jerk up and press his lips against hers. Just as fast, she moved back, hissing as her teeth throbbed with how hard he had hit her.

"SHIT— That hurts like hell!" He complained while desperately breathing air in as if it would cool his pain down. She put a hand on his shoulder to catch his attention, and only when he looked up could he see the frown on her face as she passed her tongue over her aching teeth.

"Be careful when you're trying to kiss someone." Her hands moved to his cheeks, angling his face towards hers with half lidded eyes. "It's supposed to be a mark of affection, you can't be too rough you know." And with that she pressed her lips against his, more softly than what he previously tried.

Oh he was definitely a romantic now.

The kiss was slow, his fingers finding solace by caressing her sides as her own hands went to his hair, playing with the small tresses that would often pass in the crevices adorning her hands. And one tug was enough to set the temperature higher, the all too familiar burning from their past session returning much harder. His tongue pressed against her lips, pressing against her own when she opened her mouth, and the open-mouthed kiss was the official announcement of yet another round.

The fingers that were exploring her chest grew bolder as they trailed down. Should he grind her against him like he did a while before? Anchoring them on her waist to leave marks testifying that he was here first? It was more than tempting actually, but he was more curious about something else. The kiss was broken so she could bite the back of her hand instead when she felt him grazing her clit.

Now what was he doing? Why was he suddenly caressing her in a place he had barely even thought about exploring before? While she was left panting over his shoulders, his thoughts swirled with delirious ideas.

Yeah, he was romantic as fuck, and needed to fuck her just as good. She was insecure about her damn body? Then he should just show her how much he appreciated it, and please her in a way that would make her forget about seeing any guy other than him. Maybe that they will drift apart at one point, that she will find someone else to nicely pamper her before fucking her up, but she would never forget about him. He's her first, and she will be obsessed with him till the end.

She was thrown on her bed much to her surprise, or more like a bunch of mattresses on top of one another to make up for the fact that the first one had fallen through the bedframe a few nights before, and he joined soon after.

Both of his hands dipped inside the blankets under her head as his face got closer to hers. Her face heated up when she opened her eyes to see him above her, a knee parting her legs mischievously before he shifted his body so he could be above her hips. His fingers dragged the loose shirt that she used as a pajama up, and her running shorts were pulled down, allowing him to see her pair of plain panties. Now was not the time to comment on it, he wanted to see how she would react once he was eating her out.

He quickly discarded the piece of garment away from his sight (they were just hanging on one leg) before tentatively blowing on where he thought her clit would be. And lucky him, immediately after she let out a small whimper to let him know that he found it. For a first time he wasn't that bad, huh?

His finger ran along her slit, finding quite easily her hole and pushing two in. Her arousal was enough for them, but he knew that he had to stimulate her a bit more if he wanted to fit one or two more inside. And so, disregarding her sound as he was more focused on a solution to please her, his attention switched back to her clit where his tongue slowly approached it. He was suddenly pressed against it, mouth fully enclosing it as she had taken a handful of his hair and tried to pull him closer.

Her fingers gripped and tugged his hair, frustration ironically eating her out as his tongue was pressed flat against the small bud he was sucking. At the same time, the slender limbs inside her picked up in pace. The overwhelming sensations all building up, the euphoria more present than ever before. Would she come undone in the next few seconds? Most probably she feared, but she was too much into this unholy craziness to allow herself to doubt too much. She was finally coming after all. He didn't left her to fend for herself for too long it seemed, maybe he even cherished her a little like her with him. And the happiness of such meaningless and unproved implications had so easily triggered her release.

His name, strangled, was cried as his head was trapped in-between her thighs that she had involuntarily closed. Despite how uncomfortable it was, he continued to lap at any of her juice his tongue could get, even taking the chance to explore her inside more thoroughly than with his fingers.

When her body eventually relaxed, he took the chance to move away from the warm spot between her thighs. He surprisingly liked it. Her heat, her taste, her skin, her noises, they were way more enjoyable than what he had thought. And his throbbing length was just as enamored.

When he saw her starting to fall asleep, he quickly moved her body around, giving small and painless slaps on her cheeks to keep her awake. "Hey prefect, don't fall asleep now. I still need you." She tiredly hummed, her mind still blurry as both sleep and pleasure claimed her mind. But he could see that she was barely responding.

He groaned as he tried to unbuckle his belt with one hand, the other one pulling her legs apart, and successfully opened it after struggling for a short while. Any trace of tiredness disappeared when she felt him entering her hole eagerly without much foreplay to back him up. Thankfully her previous release was enough to lub him, but the compassion for it was a highly sensitive and overstimulated body.

Her arms immediately joined themselves behind his neck, bringing him closer to her and forcing him to push a hand beside her head. He dragged his shaft back, the motion stealing one of the moans that were quick to build up at the back of her throat, before diving back inside her. The repetitive motion effortlessly broke her sanity, with each of them, paired with her previous climax, her brain became too overwhelmed.

At one point, he pressed back the bulb-like tip against her cunt with a hiss as she was babblering words of affection at him, hoping to make him move faster in her delirious state. Thankfully for her, his mind was just as muddy as hers, and he happily listened to her wishes.

His eyes rolled at the back of his head. He had fully, and unannounced, gone fully in and was squished by her tight warm walls. He felt like they were sucking him more with each twitch of his body, and maybe that was the case as her breath would adorably itch whenever he did so.

She was his. This body overflowing with insecurities and heating up with each passing seconds was his. It was him who had stick his cock so fucking deep inside that she had started babblering some nonsense about how much she loved him. Him who was brushing her cervix with his raw dick. She was the one that had made him wait for him to have some rubbers, but now she was fucked without one just because she was head over heels for his cock.

"A—Awn… So-… Y– You love me?" He wouldn't have tried to tease her a while ago, when she was sucking him off and he had prematurely come, but now that she had lost any bits of reasonable thinking, she was easy to talk to. And the way she was deliriously nodding made him smirk manically.

He slowly slid himself off before slamming back in with a noise that threatened to make any souls passing by cower with fear. She let out a high pitched moan that cut her answer off. She tried to regain herself back, but the sudden and continuous assault only managed to reduce her to a whining pitiful mess. His scent, down to his meat beating her, was too much for her brain to understand what was going on. After a few orgasms, the only thing it wanted was to feel Ace grinding up against her as her body chased yet another one of those releases.

"M- Much!" He hummed back, although it was broken from time to time as he would thrust into her worn down body without any care, to let her know that he was listening. "L— Love you zhis much!" Her slurred speech was barely discernible, but the heart she made with her fingers, hands pressed against the fat of her chest, was enough for him to understand.

And he came just with that.

His sudden hot, almost burning, semence made her shudder and a shiver ran through her body. But she didn't have much time to think about it before Ace laid beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist despite his fluid dripping out of her, he was not bothered. Far from it actually, he was quite proud about it.

When looked down at her, he was not surprised to see her already sleeping with tears already drying on her skin. She was definitely tired, and even if she had made a fuse earlier as she had asked him to take a bath, exhaustion had made sure to hit her before she could even think about it.

He was tempted to chuckle but stopped himself from doing when a yawn was forced out of his mouth instead. It was early in the night, barely the end of evening, but he sure was tired. And looking at her peacefully cuddling against him was a nice arguments to get him to close his eyes.

_____

The next morning, quite early at that as the sun barely peaked its nose between the dirty half ripped curtains, Ace woke up to movements by his side as he felt her sliding off the bed. He cracked his eyelids open, but the only thing he could make out was her putting on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, his shirt, that had been discarded the night prior.

She quickly left to go to who knew where, but he wasn't conscious enough to properly think about it. Whatever. He closed his eyes back after some time and tried to go back to sleep. His poor efforts were rewarded by the sound of the door cracking open.

Despite clearly trying to stay quiet, the wooden planks would howl under her weight and he eventually stopped trying after a while.

He reopened his eyes to her, hitching the bed cover up, ready to go back to sleep. He sat up which caught her attention and made her stop halfway through her action. She whispered soft words to him, excusing herself for waking him up, but the way she was bent over, trying to reach out for him as her shirt had moved way pass over her stomach and gave him a clear view of her soiled panties — the waking sun laying a soft blanket of light along the arch of her back, made an all too familiar intensity come back in his lower stomach.

He gripped her hand and pulled her under the cover. A small yelp left her, one that was quickly swallowed by him as he eagerly pressed his lips against hers in a messy kiss. Tongues and teeth meeting one another so early in the morning that she was barely conscious of it all.

A small giggle resonated in the room during the small time he had broken away from her to take a deep breath. The tip of his fingers had found a way inside her shirt, caressing the side of her stomach and leaving a stimulating trail of goosebumps behind them.

His lips went back to hers, but instead of connecting them, he left them hanging near each other teasingly. "Fuck, I want you…" He almost whined as his half awakened cock rubbed against her almost too shallowly.

"It's like 6 in the morning, we should sleep more before preparing for school." But her words fell into deaf ears as his hips moved with more force, his dick pressing against her despite the layers of clothes in-between them to the point where she could almost feel him penetrating her.

Her breath would be cut by a moan from time to time as she tightly gripped his shoulders. "Don't care about school." One harsh thrust made her bite the back of her hand with how loud her whine was. "I want to feel you again."

And maybe that she felt just the same because it was all it took for her to succumb to him.

When they finished, she could hardly feel her legs with how stimulated she had been in such a short amount of time. Each and every little movement brought the pain back, but it was also a pleasurable reminder of how much she liked it, enough that it almost made her ask Ace for more. Almost. Still it was enough for her to be more forgetful than usual.

Even Deuce had to step in when he picked both her and Ace up for school. He was a blushing mess as he pointed the trail of cum slowly dripping down her inner thigh. And when she had, quite detached at that much to his surprise, hoisted her skirt up to remove it with a piece of tissue, the sight of the ropes of cums desperately clinging between her exposed skin and underwear threatened to make him faint.

He didn't know what happened, but Ace would be sure to hear about his thoughts.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst smut #smut #lemon #ace x reader #ace smut #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola x you

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gretavanfleetposts · 7 months

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Fire in the Water: Chapter Two

Summary: You had thought dating a vampire would be the most complicated thing you'd ever done. But as it turns out, becoming one is even more complicated. The boys are determined to make your transformation as smooth as possible while each fighting to maintain the relationships they once had and those they now lust for. Author's Note: As always, I'd like to thank the lovely @gretasmokerising for inspiring me and encouraging me and @earthlysorrows for editing and helping me piece everything together/brainstorm and a million other things Content Warnings: swearing, talk of blood and killing, talk of death, blood drinking, biting, voyeurism, descriptions of an orgy (4 f. 1 m.), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact) Word Count: 10k oops

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Hands. His hands. Roaming, searching, teasing. It was unfair what they were doing to you. And all without ever actually touching you.

You pleaded for him to actually touch you. You didn't want his gifts, you wanted him. You wanted him to have mercy on you. But he seemed so pleased with himself, too pleased to reach out and touch you.

Jake sat between your legs, watching smugly as your fists gripped his sheets.

"Please, Jake, please, please, please," you begged and begged.

"Is this not enough for you? You need my hands, too?" He practically mocked you.

"Yes, yes, I need you."

"You have me. You don't feel that? I'm coursing through your veins."

You lifted your body to reach for him yourself and he accepted the offering, taking your hand in his and swiping his thumb over the veins that stood at attention under the skin.

"Shhhh, let it happen. Give yourself over to me," he whispered.

You were so close to the edge of bliss, the world around you was already beginning to go black as he pumped you full of pleasure with no effort at all.

"Jake, I'm so fucking close, please just touch me!"

He smiled something evil.

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

You woke almost startled from your dream, instinctively turning expectantly toward Josh before you remembered he'd gone out on a hunt while you slept through the night. Or while you were supposed to be sleeping through the night, rather.

You silently thanked the fates that Josh was gone though. It was better he wasn't there to ask about the dream that had woken you, depraved as it had been.

You let your head fall into your hands as you tried to push it from your mind, the not-so appropriate thoughts the dream had stirred awake of a particular twin you had no business having thoughts of those caliber about. But fuck, it was hard to ignore with the moisture between your legs threatening to refuse to go unnoticed.

You'd never be able to sleep now. Not like this.

You rose from the bed and resigned yourself to go explore the greenhouse to try and calm your mind. And stifle the fantasies which your subconscious had brought forward.

Down the stairs and out the backdoor, the greenhouse sat so neatly undisturbed under the night sky, letting the stars peek in to get a glimpse of the plants that grew there during the day. You wondered if they'd had any company that day.

You dipped low to crouch next to a particular plant that looked in need of extra water and made a mental note to yourself to water it in the morning. You brushed your thumb over its leaves turning dry and thin. It almost mimicked how you felt moving through time without Josh. You were aging while he was staying still. How exactly would that work?

You sighed and pulled your hand back to admire the pot the plant sat in. It was glazed in a beautiful golden yellow with little sun's carved into it, the handiwork of Sam, no doubt. He had done the place up in so much beauty, it was a shame he never admired it anymore-

Suddenly a mangled cry tearing through the night air jolted you from where you crouched low by the pot, suddenly standing alert and scanning the treeline for whoever was seriously injured. But there was no one.

After a moment of straining your eyes, you finally turned back to the plants, convinced you'd been hearing things. But the moment you diverted your attention, you heard it again. Only this time, it sounded less of a noise born out of agony and more something born out of pleasure. Intense pleasure, if the volume was any indication.

Suspicious, you listened again for the sound to trace its origin and when you heard it a third time, the origin became clear. It was coming from the guest house. And you could only imagine what Jake was in there doing with some woman.

Your feet moved without your mind even telling them, carrying you over to where his house sat near the forest, the french doors near the back of the house wide open, clearly letting the noises from inside flow into the open air.

There was a woman you didn't recognize standing out back, looking as though she were about to join the group, dressed in nothing but a robe.

"Are you here to join the party?" she asked with a sultry smile.

There was no visible evidence as to whether she was human or not so you found it best to presume she was something more akin to a creature that could easily kill you. She certainly was breathtaking enough to be convincing.

"Party?" you asked, eyeing the door closely but unable to see inside from where you stood.

"That's okay. I was a little shy my first time too. Jake says it's okay to just watch until you're comfortable joining. Why don't you have a seat inside?"

You weren't entirely sure why you were following her, her robe dropping to the ground the moment she stepped inside. But you kept your distance, standing in the doorway hesitantly as your eyes followed her. And when the scene of debauchery was finally before you, a gasp escaped your lips.

There was Jake, standing naked a few feet away from the foot of his bed. Two women kneeled before him, taking turns sucking him into their mouths. The woman who had just entered moved to stand behind him, her arms stretching over his shoulders with one hand rubbing circles over his exposed chest and the other outstretched, a clear bite mark already visible in the delicate skin around her wrist. She must have been his blood bag for the night.

So she was human. Just that gorgeous.

Then there was the woman splayed out on his bed, practically writhing in pleasure. Not a single hand touched her and yet her back arched off the bed and her hands gripped the rungs of the headboard. And it was Jake's name that came tearing from her chest. That was when you realized it: his attention was focused on her, his eyes fixed to her body, the way her chest rose and fell quickly, her breasts practically bouncing with each movement. He was using his gifts on her. He wasn't even touching her and yet he was making her feel everything.

You had been shocked before, when you had first laid eyes on the scene. But now, as you watched him bury his hand in the hair of one of the women kneeled at his feet, pressing himself further into her mouth while he licked his lips at the sight of the woman coming hard in his bed and screaming his name, it wasn't shock you felt. It was jealousy.

You watched him pull the third woman's wrist into his mouth and messily drink from her, letting the blood trickle down from his lips as he pulled away, casting red stains in his skin as it plundered down to his chest. But the woman behind him caught it with a finger running along his skin before it could travel too far, bringing the now red-soaked finger up to his lips for him to lick clean. And when she pulled it from his mouth, he grasped the back of her neck roughly and pulled her into a searing kiss.

It felt so wrong to be watching the voyeuristic display but you couldn't tear your eyes away. You were mesmerized, practically entranced by the way he seemed to silently command the women. The one lying on the bed, having come down from her high, came to kneel in front of him along with the other two still working him over, until he pulled one up roughly by her hair and kissed her hard, walking her backward to the bed.

She fell back onto the mattress with a giggle, spreading her legs eagerly for him even though she didn't need to. But this time, he took hold of her ankles and spread her further, gracing her with his touch. You could only imagine how good it felt.

You could almost feel the anticipation building in your own body, like pins and needles making your limbs go numb with excitement despite your brain screaming at you to avert your gaze. She was luckier than the other woman. He was going to actually touch her. It was evident in the way he smirked at her. But before he climbed onto the bed after her, he seemed to pause.

You felt the breath catch in your lungs as you waited for him to do something. But then suddenly, his face turned toward you and his eyes landed squarely on yours, the smirk on his face growing as he dipped down and bit into her thigh to drink from her.

You jumped away from the doors instantly, heart suddenly pounding as you fumbled in the dark back through the yard and into the house, all but slamming the door shut behind you. It wasn't until you had reached Josh's bedroom that you leaned against the closed door and finally attempted to calm your breathing, coming in quick, hot gasps as you wondered if Jake had followed you.

—

You weren't certain how long you stayed that way, perched on Josh's bed, unable to sleep as you awaited some version of Jake bursting through the door to say god knows what. But it never came. Instead, you sat alone, replaying the scene in your head over and over again, the sight of the women taking turns tasting him, the sight of the woman who looked like she could come just from him drinking her blood, the woman who came in his bed from even less. And the way his name sounded as she did, falling from her lips like it was burned into her brain and the only word she could even remember through the bliss. You couldn't get it out of your head, really.

You played it in your mind on repeat, unaware of the time passing, until just a couple of hours before the break of dawn when you smelled food cooking from downstairs. It was then that you realized the time, seemingly shaken from your daze by the smells wafting through the house. You would need food before Josh returned.

You did your best to creep quietly down the stairs, hoping to observe Jake before he saw you. It was no use, though. Without even turning, he spoke when the heel of your foot dropped silently onto the bottom step of the staircase.

"It's not nice to spy," he said as he busied himself at the stove stirring something. "Might see things not meant for your eyes."

You decided to play dumb for your own sake, hoping he'd let you get away with it. “I smelled food-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

You didn't know Jake well but you should have known him well enough to know he wouldn't let you get away with it.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to see anything, I just thought I heard…something." You trailed off into silence, unable to even conjure up a convincing lie. You had no reason to be there. You had no reason to look. And you certainly had no reason to stay and watch for as long as you had.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked with a grin, meeting your eyes just long enough to make you more nervous than you already were.

"No, of course not, I…" You fumbled for an explanation when you remembered the way his eyes had locked to yours. "How did you know I was there?"

He let out a breathy chuckle, bringing his hand to wipe his mouth of the smile your willful ignorance produced. "You know, your jealousy is such a powerful emotion. You may need to work on that."

You stayed silent for a moment, watching him season the risotto he was cooking, thinking about how the jealousy had taken hold of your body. About how you had wanted his hands on you for a fraction of a second rather than all those other women…

"How can you keep track of all those women?"

You thought back to how many of them there had been and how many he probably…entertained in a given month.

"Don't need to," he replied simply.

"They never want you to call?" The sarcasm was heavy in your tone.

"I politely ask them not to get too attached," he answered, meeting your eyes briefly to give you an all-too pleased smile.

"How exactly do you do that?"

"You ask a lot of questions. I told you, I can be very persuasive, as I think you saw."

So many women coming and going. Maybe they were just that in love with him, enough to keep his secret on the promise he might want them again. On the promise he might make them feel that way again.

"Do you kill them after?" you asked, trying to gauge his openness against Sam's. Although, if he did, surely he had taken out an entire town by now judging solely on the number of women he felt the need to include all at once.

“No reason to,” he shrugged.

“Isn’t it hard to control?”

Josh had described what it was like to you once, when a vampire drank from a human. He'd described it as a sexual experience, a hunger that penetrated deep into your bones and took over your mind. There was almost no separating the two if you weren't careful, sex and bloodlust. And that meant that mixing one with the other was dangerous. But Jake had done it so masterfully.

He met your eyes yet again, watching you as you settled your hip against the stove and folded your arms over your chest. Your line of questioning seemed to amuse him.

“Did it look like I was out of practice?”

He gave you that look again, the one he had given you when you'd first met him. Utterly suggestive. He was enjoying this far too much. And rendering you unable to speak.

He turned his attention back to the pot on the stove, adding more liquid to the rice and picking up his stirring. "You know, if you'd like me to use my gifts on you, you need only ask."

God, he almost sounded serious, enough so that you chose to ignore the comment fully, turning your own attention to the delicious mix of smells he was brewing for no one in particular.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cooking for you, what do you think I'm doing?"

"You didn't have to-"

He stopped you with a peeved look that cut your sentence short.

"Right, right."

"Now come on, you owe me an explanation. Why, in the middle of my beautiful little…meeting, did I feel the hot sting of jealousy?"

He diverted the subject back to the very topic you'd been hoping to avoid: why you had been watching.

"It's embarrassing," you answered quietly, turning so that you stood next to Jake but facing the opposite direction. You would avoid his eyes if you could.

"I can assure you, my dear, you have not felt anything I or anyone else in this house has not felt over the last few centuries."

You couldn't be entirely honest about the jealousy. But there was more to it than just whatever had enthralled you about Jake from the start. Josh didn't drink from humans. He hadn't drank from you. And now that you knew you weren't yet his soul tie, it suddenly felt more important to do the things that made him feel good, the things that brought you intimately closer to him.

"You were so…I mean, Josh is just so…" you fumbled for the right word and landed on perhaps the wrong one, "gentle."

"Is there something wrong with gentle?" Jake asked, his smug demeanor suddenly gone and replaced with genuineness.

"No, no, I just…I mean, he’s never drank from me," you began to ramble, "never even expressed a desire, never even seemed like he’s had that hard of a time controlling himself around me and I know it’s stupid but I'm just starting to worry that maybe he doesn't want me that way."

"Just so we're clear, what you want is for Josh to push himself to the edge of his control and drink from the woman he loves, fighting all of his primal urges to kill you because you taste and feel that fucking good? Is that right?"

You shrugged, beginning to feel a little stupid for worrying. "Sounds so romantic when you say it like that."

He let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by you. God, he was almost unrecognizable when he took on the role of friend.

"You may be just as depraved as us." He shook his head and continued his stirring. "It takes a lot of self control, especially when you're emotionally attached to the human you're drinking from. And you’re not exactly invincible like us."

“Well, it’s not just that. He told me about Danny and Adele, about their soul tie.”

Understanding washed over his face as he gave you a nod and a quiet, "Ah," waiting for you to continue.

“I guess I’m just wondering why he’s keeping me around if he hasn’t felt it yet,” you admitted.

“Soul ties depend on the path you’re on, kind of like Danny’s ability to see the future.”

“Yeah but what am I supposed to change, Jake?”

He let out a long sigh, his shoulders falling as he flipped the burner off, moved the pot from the heat, and turned his attention squarely on you.

“Not one for leaving things up to the fates, are you now?” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t have any family. Josh is the first good thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I’ve spent so long being angry and tormented by all of the shit in my life and he’s like a goddamn ray of fucking sunshine and I have no idea why he wants me but he seems to so I just want to make sure I’m not…fucking things up.”

“And you want him to drink from you like a kool-aid pouch,” he added with a grin.

You rolled your eyes and did your best to stifle the smile that threatened your own lips. “Shut up.”

His face turned serious again as his eyes fell, not really looking at anything in particular but more recalling some memory.

“I’m sorry about your parents. Josh did mention it. Losing people is never easy, no matter how long you’ve been alive.”

“Yeah." You nodded silently.

It was one of the more unfortunate parts of life.

“But Josh chose to bring you home to us," he continued. "He’s never done that before so you must be pretty fucking special to him and if you’re special to him, then you’re special to us. So do yourself a favor and have a little faith that things will work out the way they’re supposed to. You’re part of the family now.”

You met his eyes for a moment, appreciating the warmth that was there. Somehow he managed to still be reassuring despite the compromising position you'd seen him in earlier that day. He didn't even seem embarrassed, and he certainly didn't hide from you. You couldn't help but believe him when he said it.

“That was awfully sweet for a vampire who has orgies every night.”

“You’ve only been here one night, you don’t know the cadence with which I partake in orgies.”

“Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to imply you were getting more than you actually are.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove, scooping a bit of the remaining sauce up with his spoon.

“At least my girls leave satisfied,” he quipped.

If you hadn't been suddenly annoyed, him referring to those women as his girls might have made you so jealous it knocked the wind out of you. But instead, you gave him a disapproving look and tightened your arms over your chest, averting your gaze in favor of one of the glass walls that stood opposite you on the far end of the kitchen. He felt the cool air immediately.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he relented. "The only reason my brother hasn’t drank from you yet is because he doesn’t want to lose control, not because he doesn’t want to. I can assure you, when you're around, it's occupying about 50% of his thoughts at all times."

"You can't even read minds," you argued, earning another sigh from the twin.

"No, I can't, but the way you smell, honey, you're tempting everyone in this house. So why don't you just trust me on this one."

He met your eyes for only a second, long enough to see your cheeks flare red, before he swiped some of the mushroom sauce off the spoon with his finger and held it out to you like a peace offering. Only you weren't entirely sold on the idea of licking his finger. But when your face soured at his silent suggestion, he only pushed his finger further into your face.

Begrudgingly, you dipped your head forward and took his finger in your mouth, swiping the sauce off his skin with your tongue and purposefully ignoring his eyes and what you might have seen there. Instead you focused on the flavor, deep and rich. It mingled on your tongue and practically melted into your mouth. It was delicious.

The sauce, of course.

You pulled away and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing up at him a bit sheepishly and just in time to see the visible swallow he gulped down.

You stayed silent while Jake diverted his focus to plating some of the risotto for you, handing you a big steaming bowl far more appealing than what Adele had made you.

"Good girl," he whispered as you took it from his hands, although you weren't entirely sure if it was that which had earned you the praise or the way your tongue had wound around his finger. "Now run along and eat some real food before Josh gets back." He jerked his head toward the stairs, like he was dismissing you. You didn't wait around for him to do anything else either, taking your bowl and jogging up the steps two at a time back to the safety of Josh's room where you agreed silently to put the interaction out of your mind.

—

You woke to Josh's ice cold touch on your shoulder, glancing up at him to see your freshly showered boyfriend ready to start your day.

"Did you eat?" he asked softly, trying to ease you awake.

You peered over your shoulder at the nightstand where you had left your empty bowl but found it void of the evidence of your meal. Maybe Jake had snuck in to take it back downstairs.

You nodded and sat up sleepily, your body heavy as you used your arms to pull yourself up. "Yeah, Jake is a good cook for someone who doesn't eat real food."

"That he is." Josh offered you a smile as he pushed disheveled hair off your forehead. "It's pretty overcast. I think we're safe to make the trip to your house today to get your stuff."

You'd been so distracted by everything with Jake that you'd almost completely forgotten the impending move. But when he said it, your heart leapt in your chest and you couldn't stifle the smile that spread your lips wide.

"Okay," you nodded with excitement.

"I can let you sleep more if you need though-"

"No! No, just let me get dressed and we can go."

He chuckled at your enthusiasm but nodded his head, leaning in to press a quick, gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

It was about an hour drive out of the woods and across the sleepy town to where your parent's house sat, an old Victorian style home that sank into the mud a little more each year thanks to the rain. You'd stopped tending to the lawn long ago and now, the greenery surrounding the house was overgrown. It almost made the house look haunted, like it was barren other than the memories that still existed violently inside. In some ways, that's what it was: haunted.

You didn't relish being back but you braved the rain and made your way inside, pushing open the creaky front door for hopefully what would be the last time. Why you had so much disdain for the place, you couldn't really decipher. Maybe being there without your parents was just too painful. It was like an old relic that as soon as you had touched, had latched onto you to serve as some gruesome reminder of what you didn't have: a family to fill the large home.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Josh asked, his arms instinctively circling around your waist and his chin landing itself easily on your shoulder. There he stood with you, taking in the view of the house from the front room, in all its dust and glory.

"You know it's funny,” you sighed, “this is the place they built memories, this is where their smell lingers and their stuff collects dust.” You thought back to the memory of your parents cooking waffles early in the morning, the smell easing you awake and the sound of their laughter nestling into the back of your mind. A happier memory that the house still held onto. “But I won't miss the house. Just them."

They weren’t a place, they were people, not to be confined by walls.

It got too dusty in that house anyway.

"I wish I could have met them," Josh whispered softly, his lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear and prompting goosebumps to raise texture in your skin. It brought a smile to your face, thinking of them having met.

"Oh they would have loved you," you laughed as you turned to face him. "Not the whole stealing me away to live with you and three other guys part, but the rest of you."

He gave you his signature giggle back, the one that scrunched up his nose.

"Little would they know how bad of an influence I am."

"Oh, you're not a bad influence."

"No?"

"No," you shook your head. "If anything, your brothers should be worried about me influencing you."

It prompted another giggle from him.

"Oh yeah? Is that so?"

"It is, it is.” You nodded and tutted your tongue at him like he had much to learn. “A human so enthralled with the very thing meant to kill her? She sounds messed up."

"Utterly crazy," he smiled.

"Out of her mind," you agreed.

His smile never waned as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. He was gentle and you swore at times his lips almost felt warm on yours. But even when he felt like ice against your skin, he was inviting.

You pulled away as his hands dipped to your hips. "It is kind of nice knowing we're actually alone although I always wonder if their ghosts are watching us while we're here." And then suddenly your face turned more serious, the thought of Josh being able to see other supernatural creatures surrounding you suddenly burning in the back of your mind. "Wait, are ghosts real? Can you see them?"

Josh shrugged and let out a hearty laugh. "How should I know? I'm a vampire, I'm not a monster hunter."

You couldn't help but giggle along with him. Him being a monster hunter was certainly something you couldn't picture. He'd have to take on one of his brothers' demeanor for that.

You could practically feel the memories at your back, calling to you, doing their best to keep you there. Maybe it wasn't ghosts but whatever it was, you felt the tinge of sadness you had hoped you would leave behind. But it felt strange leaving it behind to start a life with someone who would outlive you. Was it really a start? Or was it an end? You hummed at the thought.

"What?" Josh asked, hearing the vibration in your throat.

"Me and the dead," you answered quietly.

"Odd company you keep." His eyes turned thoughtful as he tucked strands of hair behind your ear. You'd have given anything to have Sam's abilities at that moment, to investigate his mind. "But I don't know, you're good at all of this."

"Oh, I very much am not," you shook your head, almost gawking at the idea of you being good at anything really. "I swear, sometimes you're the only thing keeping me grounded. You and your gifts."

His hand rose to your face to cup your cheek lightly and you leaned into his touch, as you always did.

"I don't think that's true," he said as his thumb grazed gently along your skin. "I think you're just you."

"Regardless, I'm better with you. That much I do know."

He connected your lips again and the hunger behind them was immediate, his body pressing into you and his hands pulling you closer, searching for as much of you as he could get.

"I do have some self-restraint somewhere in my body," he mumbled against your lips as he began to walk you backward further into the house.

"Oh yeah? Where do you think it is?" you asked, already growing short of breath and needy the longer he touched you.

"I don't know, remind me to look for it later."

He deepened the kiss as your back found a wall and pressed into it, his hands moving to tangle in your hair as his tongue slid past your lips.

Your hands worked up under his shirt to feel his cool skin and the taught muscles that raised tantalizing lines and carved divots along his body. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how strong he was when he was always so set on being gentle.

One of these days, you'd will it out of him, that roughness that you craved, any sense of composure failing. You'd take it happily. But for now, gentle was enough. His hands moving to cradle your hips before dipping down to run softly along your thighs was more than enough. He didn't have to be rough to draw that out of you, your neediness. It was enough just to have his fingers teasing along your skin, so far from where you wanted them.

And you did your best not to think of the dream that had woken you early that morning before the sun had even risen to thaw the ground. Josh was enough for you…

The bang of something falling onto the hardwood floor split the two of you instantly, Josh turning where he stood to instinctively protect you as you both processed what had made the sound: a single book falling off a shelf.

Your heart pounded as you peeked over his shoulder and saw the culprit. Harmless.

"Oh my god, do you think that was my parents?" you half joked. You still weren't totally convinced ghosts weren't actually real. There was probably a lot more that was real than you realized; who were you to decide what was ridiculous and what wasn't?

"I hope not," Josh answered, "this is a terrible first impression of me…and all that other stuff we've done in here."

"Oh god," you groaned at the thought of your parents' ghosts having been present for yours and Josh's many nights together. "Okay let's be fast."

He couldn't contain the giggle already in his throat as he turned back to you with a wide smile.

"Agreed. We can bring as much stuff as you'd like, just pick a room to start."

—

Back at Josh's house, you were greeted with the sight of Danny and Adele in their post-feeding passion, both of them covered in splatters of blood and seemingly not minding as Danny hoisted Adele up around his hips and blindly walked toward their room, their mouths never once disconnecting.

You tried not to stare as you passed by with a box of your things tucked under your arm but the moment you were in view, Adele’s eyes were on yours as Danny’s mouth dipped to her neck and you felt yourself freeze in place. It was almost as paralyzing as what you had caught Jake doing.

Almost.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked with an almost evil smile.

"Sorry, I was just-Sorry." You cut your apology short, continuing down the hall and silently scolding yourself for always getting caught in these situations.

"You can join us if you'd like,” she propositioned in a sigh as her head fell back against the wall, giving in to Danny’s lips. “The shower is plenty big."

"Think you'll make it?" you mumbled as you continued walking, hearing a laugh from both of them as you passed by.

"You'd better hope we do; the soundproofing in there is way better," Danny quipped just before pushing them both into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

On your way up the stairs, you heard his name moaned loudly, practically echoing off the glass walls that surrounded you.

They must not have made it to the shower.

When you reached the top of the stairs and ventured down the long hall to what was now yours and Josh’s shared room, you found Sam standing by the bed holding one of the objects that had been neatly packed away in the box resting just below his hands. It was a picture frame, one of the few you had, a photo of yourself and the friends you hadn’t seen in far too long, since before your parents.

"When was the last time you saw them?" he asked as you stepped into the doorway and set the box in your arms quietly down on the floor.

"It's been over a year. They don't live here and I only moved back to take care of things after my parents," you explained.

He met your eyes, looking like maybe he wanted to say sorry, but instead, his lips formed into a thin, tight line. And silence cast itself over the two of you for a moment.

His quietness was such a sharp contrast to, well, really everything Danny and Adele did. And your previous interaction had left such a sour taste in your mouth but seeing him standing there, having helped carry boxes of your things inside, he seemed like he was trying.

"You have loud thoughts,” he remarked suddenly. “Feel like I spent the whole day with you."

"Sorry…"

The silence turned awkward as he looked around the room, probably searching for anything to say next.

"Yeah. Anyway, should be the last of your heavier stuff. If you need help moving anything, let me know."

You moved away from the doorway to let him switch places with you, thanking him as he turned to leave. But only a step into the hallway, he stopped and turned back toward you. You waited a moment for him to say something, but again, he tried and failed, leaving a silence looming over you both until he finally found words.

"You should see your friends again," he said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

"Are you planning on killing me?"

Why you insisted on making jokes that wouldn’t land, you had no idea. But his eyes lifted to yours and he stared at you almost blankly for a moment before he answered.

"It'd be easy. I know where you live."

The first hint at a joke, spoken in a deadly serious voice by someone who was in fact perfectly capable of killing you. But it lightened your face instantly, spreading your lips into a wide grin, and something, the faintest hint of something, pulled at the corner of his mouth. He had almost smiled back.

The sound of Josh ascending the stairs snapped him out of it quickly, and he was gone and replaced by his brother before you could even say goodbye. But you would have been lying if you said you minded. You had gotten something out of the stoic brother and you’d ride that high for days.

"I think you may be thawing him yet." Josh entered with another box in his hands and a smile plastered onto his face.

"I'm not sure I'd go that far," you chuckled. "I think he might still hate me not so deep down."

Josh gave you a look like he thought you were crazy. "Oh, Sam doesn't hate you. Actually, I think that's the most favorable look any of us have gotten in about five decades."

He had meant it as a good thing but you couldn't help but feel sorry for him and his brothers.

"That's a long time," you pursed your lips.

But Josh shook his head and let a quiet smile creep into his lips, speaking a bit softer to drive home the point he had been trying to make.

"Drop in the bucket, my darling," was all he said.

That was something else you'd have to get used to, apart from the wild behavior of his brothers. How they spent their time. They had all the time they could ever want. You, on the other hand, had practically none.

And if Josh never felt the tie to you, you'd have almost no time with him at all.

"We can unpack tomorrow," he interrupted your thoughts, dangerous as they were. "You need sleep. I know you haven't been getting enough."

You knew if you were to lie in bed, your mind would swirl with all of the possibilities of a dreadful fate. You'd never manage to forget your worries and sleep. Not tonight, at least. So instead, you reached for him and gazed up at him through your eyelashes.

"Actually," you began slowly, swirling your finger in circles on his chest, "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off when we learned that ghosts are real."

"You don't want me to get Adele and Danny up here, do you?" He gave you a knowing smile, having heard the exchange between you and Adele earlier.

You made a face.

"I don't think I could ever keep up with them."

Josh laughed loudly at that, the sound prompting a light laugh from yourself like it was contagious. And honestly, it was.

"They've got nothing on you," he promised as his laugh subsided into a cheeky grin.

His lips connected with yours and it was almost like no time had passed between the kiss you had shared at the house and now, picking right back up with the need you had felt then.

His hands worked quickly but carefully to pull your clothes off of you. Josh never wasted too much time on undressing. He was always so eager to see your skin, to feel it. He'd shed his just as quickly with the help of your fumbling hands just to get a taste of your warmth against his icy skin. You suspected that was part of the reason he was always trying to get you naked so quickly.

But when you were both fully undressed, his movements slowed and he held you pressed to him with one hand applying pressure to the small of your back while the other let his fingertip glide down the outside of your bicep. He let his lips ghost over your bare shoulder and up to the tip where the bone poked against your skin. That was where his mouth stopped, where he knew it was more sensitive, and the kiss he pressed there sent a shudder rolling through your body as you waited for him to continue.

He pulled back to look at your face and when he did, you could see his fangs had bared themselves, their fine points looking razor sharp and yet somehow tantalizing. It was like something you weren't supposed to see.

It got you more excited than you cared to admit.

"I've never wanted anyone the way I've wanted you," he whispered, his tongue gliding over the fangs.

And suddenly you weren't sure what type of want it was that he felt at that moment.

He dipped his head back down to your shoulder, kissing his way up your skin until he reached the crook of your neck where you prepared yourself for a bite. But instead, he only placed another kiss, even more gentle than the last.

You tried to stifle your sigh of disappointment but Josh rarely missed anything thanks to his superhuman senses.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

You couldn't exactly tell him that you'd seen Jake doing what he did to the women he'd had over. It felt like an absurd standard to set for your own relationship even though you knew it went much deeper. And you weren't eager to explain to your boyfriend that you'd caught his brother having an orgy. But you wanted it, desperately, to feel close to him. You wanted to feel wanted by him, really wanted.

"I just…" you began slowly, "I know that Jake drinks from his…partners. I was hoping maybe…"

You trailed off into silence. It sounded so much more stupid when you heard it spoken out loud in front of a much more subdued vampire like Josh who wanted for nothing but your safety.

Josh finished the sentence for you, guessing where you were going. "You want me to bite you?"

He sounded almost confused by what you were asking for and rightfully so. You shouldn't have been asking for it.

"I just, I don't know," you sighed. "I want to feel close to you. In all of the ways that we can feel close given that I'm a human and you're a vampire and we haven't exactly…" Silence overtook you yet again. But this time, it was the part that you hated to say out loud.

"This is about the soul ties-"

"No! Well, yes and no. I want that, too, but I want it all." You took a step closer to him, not even realizing when he had put some distance between you. "I want it all with you."

He took you back into his arms and opened his mouth to bare his fangs to you again, this time starting at your jaw and running the points down your skin, just enough to let you feel the danger but not enough to do any damage.

"I wouldn't be able to control myself with you," he whispered. "I'm not used to human blood, much less the blood of someone I want desperately."

His hand found a home on your cheek, using his thumb and forefinger to maneuver your head to the side and grant him access to your jaw where you felt him nip the skin there. Hard. You yelped slightly at the force he used, surprised he didn't break skin or bone for that matter.

It would bruise, certainly. And yet, it was only just a glimpse of what he could do.

"But I can be rougher, if that's what you want," he continued with a smile already forming at his lips.

You hummed in acknowledgement, not that he needed any confirmation because as his hold on your jaw tightened, a taste of the strength he'd been hiding from you. You could feel the pool between your thighs growing wetter.

He backed you up using his grip on your face until the backs of your thighs hit the bed. And you could feel him begin to give in to his desires and your wishes.

"Just tell me if I'm being too rough."

You couldn't stifle the light laugh that escaped you at his sudden concern and the gentleness threatening at his seams. You could tell it was hard for him to let go that way. He was a vampire, yes, but even so, it seemed to go against his very nature, no matter how badly he wanted it.

With only another smile, he pushed you onto the bed and dipped to his knees, ghosting over your thighs with his lips now, fangs hidden away. In that position, one that felt so familiar, you couldn’t help but think of what Jake had done to the woman in his bed, biting her while you watched almost like he wanted you to feel it. But Josh didn't bite to break skin, he bit the skin there just enough to send a slight pain shooting up through your body, causing a light gasp to tumble out of you.

Just enough to leave a mark in the skin but not enough to leave permanent traces, not that you would have minded permanence.

His lips didn't stay long on the swell of plush skin at the meat of your thigh, kissing his way over to your mound where he began to tease you. And fuck, it was better than being bitten. It had to be. All the want of his fangs in your skin and you'd almost forgotten just how good it felt to be simply touched by him. But you were remembering now.

His tongue slipped from between his lips to draw lazy shapes around you. He knew what he was doing, as he purposefully avoided the part of you that craved so badly for his touch, throbbing to have just a glimpse of pressure. It was agonizing and you were desperate.

Your hips wriggled and searched for his tongue, trying to guide him where you wanted him to go with your movements alone, but his hand raised to press just below your stomach to hold you still. And with the terrifying strength of his hands, it was enough to effectively pin you down against the mattress.

With the most smug of smiles you'd ever seen him wear, he pulled away slightly to let the cool of his breath fan over your mound. "So mouthwatering," he whispered.

You felt the chill of his breath before you ever felt the icy shock of his tongue suddenly drawing a line up your slit, allowing himself just a taste. You sucked in a hard gasp when the cold hit your body, only adding electricity to the already overwhelming feeling of touch exactly where you needed it.

All at once, you felt the breath you'd been holding in release itself from your lungs and instantly, your body begged for more.

He repeated the action, this time letting his tongue press into you fully before retreating to lick a circle around your bundle of nerves. It almost jolted you off the bed the way it sent an immediate buzz of electricity through your body.

He wasn't being nice by any means. Actually, he was being quite mean, his motions far too slow for your liking. He was dragging it out, making you want it all that much more. It was agonizing having him so close and yet so teasingly far. But despite the pace that left you craving so much more, your breath had picked up and your breasts heaving with your chest obscured your view of him between your legs far too often.

His other hand crept up from where it had a firm hold on your ankle to massage the inside of your thigh with a bruising grip. All the while, his tongue set to work in the same motion, licking long stripes up and down that were enough to make you feel good but not quite enough to satisfy your needs.

When his tongue finally settled onto your clit and began to work it the way he knew you liked, his fingers took its place, teasing at your entrance. He took his time swiping them back and forth, reveling in your arousal that was a product of him and him alone. But you whined at the way he was overly cautious to ensure his fingers never dared dip inside your warmth, making sure every now and then to tease your entrance ever so softly with the tip of his finger. And even if you couldn't have felt it, the growing sounds of moisture mixing were enough to tell you how wet it was getting you, all the teasing and the bursts of strength he'd display for you. It practically lit your every nerve on fire.

But suddenly your mind had flashed to Jake, wondering if he could do all of this without a single touch. All of this created from only a single look on his part. You quickly scolded yourself for even having the thought and grabbed Josh's hair to bring your focus back on him and the moment, earning an almost growl-like sound from the vampire situated so comfortably between your legs. You didn't want to think about his brother, you wanted to think about him. He was the one right in front of you. He was the one touching you, actually touching you.

It cured your thoughts instantly when his fingers finally pressed into you, not even wasting any time with just one but instinctively pressing his middle and ring finger into you. He pumped them lazily in and out while his tongue worked over your clit, rolling it around in his mouth. He always treated it well.

When he hummed against you, you could feel it practically sprint up your body, the buzzing in your mind beginning to cloud you over with a haze of pleasure. You were ready to give yourself over to it.

He somehow always made quick work of you but it helped that you had been so pent up from everything that had happened that day. So it came as no surprise when you suddenly fell fast over the edge, riding his tongue shamelessly through your high as his name dripped off your own tongue.

He was painfully hard when you came down from your high and peered down at him, exhaustion threatening to take you already. But he only looked more exhilarated, a gleam in his eye that mimicked what you might have seen in Danny's when he looked at Adele and suddenly had to have her right there.

You'd have been lying if you said you didn't feel a burst of hope suddenly shooting through your veins, an entirely new sort of high as the possibility of Josh forming a soul tie with you felt within reach. Maybe the move had been what you'd needed and this would seal the deal.

He crawled up your body, nipping and biting as he went, each one harder than the last but none hard enough to draw blood. You could feel the anticipation buzzing through your veins.

When he finally met you face to face, he dipped down to kiss you passionately, settling himself between your legs.

"One day, my dear, one day," he promised, silently acknowledging how your body had pushed into him hoping he would really bite you.

You had absolutely no survival instincts, it seemed.

His hands took your wrists and pinned them above your head as he kissed you hard, keeping them easily where they were to avoid you pulling any tricks like biting your finger yourself to draw blood just to tempt him. It made you powerless beneath him.

Your mouths mingled together, kisses turning sloppy, and when he suddenly parted his mouth from yours, you could hardly breathe. And he looked just as blissed out as you felt, the feeling of the head of his cock brushing your entrance building the anticipation.

He breathed slowly, teeth clenched at the feeling.

"You torment me," he whispered and with a sudden singular motion, he thrusted into you, a feeling so jarring that you had no time to stifle the loud and immediate moan that clawed up your throat.

"Oh fuck, Josh!"

He thrusted into you again, harder this time.

"Asking me to bite you like it's not the one thing I've tried desperately to stop myself from doing," he grunted.

Another thrust this time that hit your cervix and made you see stars with the force he put behind it.

"Asking me to be rough when I could so easily break you."

He gritted his teeth and picked up an angry rhythm, absolutely pounding you like you'd been craving.

"My greedy little human, clearly doesn't know how lucky she is to be alive." His hand dropped from your wrists to grip your jaw again, holding you so hard it prevented you from opening your mouth to speak. So instead you met his eyes, your own hardly open and threatening to roll back as his cock drove deeper and deeper.

He freed both of his hands to move them down to your hips to better hold you in place as he fucked into you with a bruising force he hadn't used with you before. Each thrust would have sent your body scooting further up the mattress had it not been for his hands holding you firmly in place. And yet, your own shot out to grip the sheets as if they were any better able to hold you in place than his were. A feeble attempt to brace yourself as he drove his cock into you harder and faster, a hunger deeper than bloodlust ignited behind his eyes.

You had never seen him that way before. You could see his control slipping, his fingers bruising your skin, his fangs hanging low and his eyes fluttering shut. And if you were being honest, you wanted him to lose it.

"Show me how lucky I am," you squeaked from beneath him.

His eyes opened suddenly and the Josh you knew was gone, replaced by whatever he had become when he had died. Bloodthirsty and dangerous.

"Don't," he practically pleaded in a voice that sounded much more akin to a growl than a plea, the pace of his thrusts never slowing.

"You don't want a taste?" you pressed.

He shook his head, his eyes closing again, and he rolled his hips into yours faster, setting a now bruising pace that would likely leave marks at your pelvis for days after.

Josh easily lifted one leg up over his shoulder, letting your ankle rest next to his neck and turning his face to place a kiss on the inside near the bone. You watched as his eyes rolled back and his mouth grazed against your ankle, his fangs still bared to you and his teeth licking over them as he seemed to fuck into you even harder. This time, the angle was deeper and you were certain you wouldn't be able to walk the next day.

When his eyes finally opened again, they revealed pupils blown wide. It was like nothing you'd ever seen. His eyes were almost entirely black.

"You're going to regret that," was all he said.

And then his teeth sank into your ankle just above the bone, drawing blood from your body. The pain was searing and instantly flooded your body with what felt like fire, but with his cock still pumping inside of you, you barely felt anything but blinding bliss.

But Josh didn't stop with your ankle. His lips crept upward and he sank his fangs into your calf next, your back arching as his cock pushed you toward the edge of your orgasm. And when he had his fill of blood from that spot, he threw his head back, his mess streaming down his lips and neck. The sight alone was enough to push you over the edge and you came with his name burning through your lungs.

He fucked you diligently through it, dipping again to bite just above your hip without ever slowing his pace. But with the amount of blood he had already taken, you were beginning to feel delirious.

"Josh-" you squeaked, quickly losing your ability to speak.

It was hard to think clearly with his cock inside of you, hitting that fucking spot, even harder to think as he drained the blood from your body.

Another bite, this one just above your breast, and your head began to spin.

"Josh!" you yelled out to him as loudly as you could, hoping to shake him from his trance.

Another bite to your shoulder before his hips finally faltered and his hands fisted the sheets as he came hard with a loud moan, finally releasing your skin as he worked himself down.

He was covered in blood when he pulled back. You could see it even through your vision that blurred and messied everything into nothing but shapes of dripping colors.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asked, suddenly frantic.

Your Josh had returned to you.

"I'm-I'm fine, just-" You were exhausted, practically ready to pass out, and the act of speaking alone took almost all of your strength.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to take so much-"

You could hear the fear in his voice, fear that felt out of place given how elated you were. You hadn't even been frightened for yourself.

"I'm okay, Josh, really," you insisted as the room began to stabilize from the spinning it had set off to do. "I just need-I need sleep I think."

"Don't move."

He was out of your sight in an instant but reappeared almost as quickly as he had gone with a bottle labeled "Iron Supplements" and a sandwich he must have thrown together at light speed.

"Eat and take these," was all he said as he set them both down on the bed next to you.

He disappeared again as you used what little strength you had left to pull yourself into a sitting position and bring the sandwich up to your lips. But when he returned, he held a wet rag out to your bites to begin cleaning them.

But that panic that had been present in his voice was still visible on his face.

"I think Danny would have seen it if I were about to die," you chuckled lightly, nibbling on the sandwich as you watched him work.

It seemed to relax his shoulders a bit.

"Actually you're right. But still, I shouldn't have done that." You realized it then. He was disappointed in himself.

"I loved it," you said with a smile. And it was the truth. Sure, it had been dangerous, but it had proved to you just how much he craved you, just how much control he had to practice around you. You felt wanted.

"You're delirious," he said with an almost nervous laugh.

"I'm happy," you tried again, letting your hand find his face to let your touch convince him of what was the truth.

Your thumb dipped to the corner of his mouth where a drop of your blood still sat. You wiped it away with the pad of your finger, bringing it to his lips for a final taste. He accepted it eagerly as you pushed the digit past his lips, his eyes falling closed and a hum vibrating through his chest as he all but lost himself in the taste while his tongue danced a dangerous swirl around your skin. He cleaned you of every drop. But when he pulled his mouth off of your finger with a gentle pop and opened his eyes, he was your same Josh again. Gentle and kind and safe.

"Good." He leaned into your touch, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. He was him, so readily. And then he added, "We're never doing that again so I hope you got your fill."

Your head fell back with a laugh and you gave him a nod. You were appeased for now. It wasn't the soul tie you had wanted but it was enough. For now.

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pantoneyoongi · 10 months

Text

the sun & the stars | 01 | kth

title ; the sun & the stars pairing ; taehyung x you

word count ; 5.4k

description ;

taehyung’s known you almost his whole life - his sister’s best friend, the girl who invades his home and his life on the daily. you’re the one who gave his sister the nickname ‘sky’ to begin with - and also the one who relented when he whined about it at age five and said okay, you can be the stars, then.

it’s funny, because to him, you’re just the petty, mischievous neighbor from across the street with a penchant for stealing his snacks. but over the years, you’ve somehow landed yourself a reputation that stretches beyond the 1.5 year age gap he has with you - for someone who generally likes to keep things low key, you sure have a way of drawing attention.

sky’s friendly, teasing best friend is known for being cold, impassive, and immovable. which is weird, because when he’s around you, all he sees are unabashed grins and terrible jokes. until he realizes maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. maybe they’re right - it just so happens that the walls you throw up around him look a little different from the walls you throw up around everyone else.

tracklist ; willow - taylor swift, give me your forever - zack tabudlo ft. billkin, limbo - keshi

notes ;

ok so i don’t have a masterlist for this yet but this is going to be part of a universe called the sun & the sky universe, about two besties and their love lives and friendship and originally it was supposed to be a one-shot for each character but i have spiraled wildly out of control and now this character (sun) has a mini-series, oops.

anyway this is the first installation in the sun & the sky universe and eventually i will get around to making a masterpost. thank u for reading !!

tags ; college!au, best friend’s little brother!au, childhood friends to lovers, you have a cold/ice princess reputation, angst, fluff, mentions of absent parents and financial instability, you’re referred to as ‘sun’, taehyung’s sister referred to as ‘sky’, mentions of some dude being kinda pushy at the beginning, some business major slander (sorry) (sort of), there will be pov switches later, there will also be seokjin slander (he’ll deserve it unfortunately i’m so sorry), slow burn?? i think??, brief mentions of infidelity at some point later too, honestly this whole fic is probably more about friendships than it is about romance but anyways, yes this is the fic that i wrote 10k for and then randomly decided to rewrite the entire thing bc i have no control over my life thank u very much, anyway here it is i hope u like it

to be very clear: you don’t like freshmen.

irritation crawls up your spine, and you spare just enough time to glance both ways before crossing the street to reach your friend, who looks increasingly uncomfortable. she’s already backed up enough that she’s only centimeters from the wall behind her, which, in case the relief on her face at the sight of you didn’t already spell it out, tells you plenty enough that this one’s persistent and unwelcome.

“hey.” you don’t raise your voice when you reach them. you generally make it a point not to expend more energy than absolutely necessary, but particularly when it comes to men, and especially when they’re harassing your best friend. you hardly look his way, instead speaking to your friend with a tilt of your head towards the campus dining hall. “let’s go.”

jinyoung calls you blunt and a little rude (affectionate), but you prefer the terms ‘concise’ and ‘clear’. as in, you are concisely and clearly indicating the freshman should leave. you know, something about a-b conversations and how he should c his way out.

your shoulders raise ever so slightly when, predictably, the freshman opens his mouth to argue. that’s the thing about freshmen. and transfers. and men who don’t know what’s good for them: they don’t know you, and they don’t know your reputation, and that causes more problems than you care to deal with.

lucky for him, he happens to know someone who’s been out of the womb for longer than the ten seconds this kid appears to have been. in your peripheral, you watch the freshman get yanked back by a junior you think might’ve been in one of your roman history lectures last semester. “what the fuck is wrong with you,” he hisses to his friend, eyes darting nervously between the boy and you. his voice raises to normal speaking levels. “i’m so sorry. he’s so sorry for bothering you,” and then he’s dragging the kid away with hushed, frantic whispers. you watch them cross the street and head down and away, before turning back to your friend.

“you good, sky?”

she gives you a half-smile. “i’d be better with food in me.”

your lips twitch, and you sling an arm over her shoulders, tugging her through the dining hall doors. “good thing that’s what we’re here for.”

your reputation is more tall tale than fact, but you let it carry you through the four years of high school and now clean through your four years of college, too. for a group of students who are so rarely capable of meeting your eyes, they speak fairly condescendingly about you. it probably has a lot to do with the ‘sun’ nickname, seeing as it just seems laughable to associate the most well-known star in the galaxy with you.

you’re not warm. you don’t light up a room. none of the good cliches line up with you, and to most people, the nickname is more irony than anything else. but you didn’t get the nickname from them, you got it from sky, shortly after you gave her hers when you were seven.

(seven year old you was a lot friendlier.)

your eyes slide closed, chin propped against your palm as you wait at the lunch table. sky is grabbing food while you save the table, waiting for her brother and his partner in crime to show up.

the four of you grew up on the same street - sky and taehyung in the house across from you, and jimin a couple doors down. jimin and taehyung are technically the same age, the way you and sky are too, but taehyung’s birthday is so late in the year that he’s two grades below you instead of just one. they say you and sky have been inseparable since day one, but taehyung and jimin must be conjoined at the hip - you don’t find one without seeing the other.

you feel someone brush past you, a hand hovering by your head, but before it can nudge you, you say with closed eyes, “watch it, kid.”

your eyes flutter open, finding jimin pouting in front of you, hand returning to his side. “how’d you know it was me?”

“who else would dare?” you arch an eyebrow, and he sucks his teeth, dropping into the seat diagonal from you. taehyung takes the seat to your left, nodding his head in greeting towards you.

your lips quirk to the side. “do i not deserve the honor of your voice today, taetae?” you give him doe eyes, just to watch him scowl at you.

growing up with taehyung and sky right across the street from you meant watching taehyung turn from an adorable toddler, to a mildly annoying child, into a definitely annoying teenager. this also included a two year stint in which taehyung refused to speak to you (or in general, really), only making vague grunting noises and giving you curt nods in an attempt to come off as stoic and brooding.

(as a shock to no one: it was ineffective as far as ‘stoic’ and ‘brooding’ go.)

ever since he decided to grace you with his voice again, you take any chance to remind him of it. you grin wickedly as he lolls his head back with a groan. “i was shy,” he protests, bordering on a whine.

you scoff. “i’ve known you since you were three, fuck outta here,” you cuff him lightly upside the head, taehyung’s lower lip jutting out at the action. “you were just an angsty teenager.”

sky makes her appearance at that moment, setting her tray down. “can confirm,” she agrees with zero proper context. “you were just an angsty teenager.”

taehyung huffs. you poke your tongue against your cheek, amusement lighting your eyes. he tries to glare but taehyung’s always been a little soft on you, even if he won’t admit it. he marks defeat with a switch in subject. “you look tired.”

you sputter out a laugh. “i’m a college student,” you smack his shoulder lightly. “i always look tired.” you redirect your attention back to jimin and sky, joining the conversation they’d started, but taehyung stays quiet, studying you. eventually he gets up to grab food, jimin following after him, but you opt to just lay your head against your forearm, letting sky pat your head sympathetically.

you raise your head only when the boys return, eyes widening slightly in surprise when taehyung comes back with two trays, sliding one in front of you wordlessly. “you raised him well,” jimin sighs dramatically to sky. “treats his elders with respect.”

“that makes one of you,” you quip, just as sky goes, “are you calling me an elder?”

the two of you burst into laughter at the look on jimin’s face, halfway between being offended by you and defensive against sky, and while you’re busy teasing jimin, you don’t notice taehyung watching you, wondering how anyone can see you as cold and standoffish, not when he sees you like this, voice loud and eyes crinkled in the corners, always the brightest whenever you make the people you love and care about laugh. they say you’re cruel and unforgiving, but he’s known you for years and he doesn’t really feel like you’ve changed much - still wildly dramatic and bitingly sarcastic - and also apparently still endlessly prone to stealing food from him and sky, he thinks dryly, as he throws you a dirty look for snagging a french fry off his plate despite having your own.

you smile pretty at him. “sharing is caring, taetae.”

he can’t retort when you blink your eyes at him like that because there’s just no winning when it comes to you. all he can do is let out a deep sigh and fight the smile making its way onto his face when your laughter chimes in his ear.

“what if,” you start, just for jinyoung to cut you off.

“no.”

you throw the towel down onto the table, affronted. “you didn’t let me finish.”

he stares flatly at you, then makes a jerky, ‘go-ahead’ gesture with his hand.

“what if,” you start again, pointing your finger at him. “i drop out of school-”

“what if,” jinyoung smiles like he’s got knives for teeth. “i get you fired?”

you scrunch your nose. “then i’d be young, dumb, and broke.”

“just like all the cool kids,” jinyoung sighs, clearly not giving a fuck. “hurry up, we got company.”

the bell above the restaurant door rings as probably an entire fraternity funnels in, forty-five minutes before your shift ends. “perfect,” you mutter, picking up your towel again, scrubbing the table clean while jinyoung puts on a (notably knifeless) smile for your customers. the closing shift can never end quietly, always some group coming in last minute to interrupt your peaceful night. you always know jinyoung happens to like you because he sidles up to the group with his full charm and a notepad, ready to take orders, letting you slink off to the back to finish cleaning up so the two of you can get out of here as quickly as possible as soon as the sign flips to ‘closed.’

jinyoung returns to the back to rattle off orders five minutes later, then leans with his back to the counter as you rinse dishes to put into the industrial dishwasher. “you should stop taking extra shifts. your eyebags have eyebags,” he informs you, as gently as he can. you glance at him, wondering if it’s worth it to flick him with water. but you know he’s just trying to be nice, so you opt against it.

you suck in a breath, setting another dish down onto the rack. “i can’t,” you shrug. “i am, in fact, young, dumb, and broke.”

he presses his lips together in a non-smile. like you, jinyoung is here on scholarship and part of the pity-party program your school has for kids who meet the criteria of “too poor to afford higher education.” you met him in said program over the summer, when you were all forced to come in for summer classes, just in case you came from a district without sufficient resources to teach you calculus.

he runs a tired hand through his hair, offering you a small smile before heading out with an array of dishes balanced impressively on his arm. the frat has approximately twenty minutes to shovel it all down before the restaurant officially calls it lights out. you have no doubts they’ll make it with time to spare.

you flip the settings for the dishwasher and let it run, tugging off your gloves and wandering towards the front. absently, you stare out the glass that makes up the storefront, eyes nearly glazing over until you spot them - your head lifting slowly as you lean forward a little to squint.

she’s a little too far out, but the person heading down the street looks an awful lot like sky, flanked by someone who looks half a foot taller than her, which is saying something, considering sky is half a foot taller than you. your head tilts, curious, but by the time you’ve blinked enough times to get your vision back in focus, they’re out of sight.

shaking it off, you check the clock to see that you’re ten minutes to closing, confirmed by the way you hear the frat boys noisily filing back out just the way they came in. jinyoung’s eyes meet yours and you give a tired nod, the two of you working in tandem to clear the remaining dishes to finish cleaning up and close up shop.

jinyoung bids you goodbye outside the restaurant with a pat on the shoulder, parting ways. it’s late, little ways past ten at night, and you slump your shoulders as you trudge down the street back to your apartment.

you take a half step back when taehyung’s face suddenly appears in front of yours, familiar dark eyes peering at you. he’s got his hands in his pockets and he’s bent over slightly to meet your height, and you frown at him. “what are you doing here?”

“jimin dragged me out,” he explains, straightening back up. “but now they’re getting drunk, so.”

of the four of you, jimin’s always been the only one with anything close to a social life. he parties, he drinks, he gets hungover, and then he gets straight a’s. go figure.

you hum, the two of you falling into step together. the silence is comfortable, padded with the general ruckus of the downtown, cars speeding past and drunk students being rowdy. you make your way back to the main streets on campus, taehyung slowing his steps to match your snail pace.

“sun,” he breaks the quiet between you. you look at him.

he opens his mouth to speak, but there’s only empty air, the words dying on his tongue when he sees how dull your eyes look after a long shift. your eyes have always sparkled, glinting with trouble and quick wit, so it sort of stings to see the light fade out with how weary you are.

“never mind,” he smiles, tilting his chin towards your building’s front door. “we’re here.”

you look confused but don’t press the matter, patting him on the arm with a warm smile. “get back safe. thanks for walking me home, tae.” you tip-toe to ruffle his hair, like you always have, despite the near foot of height he now towers over you with, then disappear into your building without a second glance back.

taehyung sighs, hand absently pressed to the spot where you’d touched his arm. he knows your smile better than anyone else’s, that dazzling grin of yours that you reserve only for your closest friends. even when taehyung went through his brooding phase, you always offered it out to him with a friendly wave.

the campus might not understand the nickname ‘sun,’ but taehyung knows it suits you perfectly.

“am i still allowed to live in your basement if i fail out of college?”

you punctuate the end of your question by dropping the bag of take-out you brought with you onto the table, though the end of your sentence sort of peeters off a little when you realize there’s someone else departing the table, a low voice murmuring a goodbye to your friend. you don’t catch his face before his tall frame walks away, but your brows furrow, puzzled. you don’t recognize him.

“i think you’d live in my basement regardless of what i say,” sky responds, seemingly unaware of your perplexion. “but unfortunately you’re not allowed to fail out of college.”

your eyes are still on the man who’d just left, even as you pull out the take-out and hand it over to sky. you’re tempted to ask, but when you glance back at her, she has an unnervingly neutral expression on her face, and you falter, deciding to drop it.

sky likes to keep her circle small. most of the time it’s just you, jimin, and taehyung, though both of you do still keep in touch with yoongi and hoseok from high school, and there is that one girl from her major, soojung. but for the most part, sky prefers keeping to herself, so much so that on occasion she’ll just drop off the grid without any warning. you suppose you’re like her in that way, though her version of dropping off the grid is usually more accidental (read: a new video game came out and she forgot she has to remind people she’s alive) whereas yours tends to be very intentional (read: you’re overwhelmed and so much as seeing or interacting with another person could equate to a new, special kind of torture, built explicitly for you).

you slide on a smile for her, settling down into your seat. “eat,” you gesture. “need at least one of us to make it past graduation if i’m gonna live in your basement.”

as sky tucks in, absently scrolling through her phone, your mind wanders. it’s not that you need to know every last detail of sky’s life, but she’s your best friend, and it just tends to happen, anyway. sky’s life is so heavily interwoven with yours, since you were five and moved into the house across the street from hers, and she let you into her home like you’d always belonged there.

then again, that was a boy you’d seen walking away. your eyes shift back to sky, who isn’t paying you much mind, and you look away again. the truth is, the tightly bound friendship you hold with sky feels as fragile as it does indestructible, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

food is your love language. giving it, receiving it, whatever the case is - it’s love. it might also be your sole motivator for doing just about anything, but that’s besides the point.

you use food as a means of taking care of the people around you. it’s not exactly a flashy show of affection, but you don’t have a particularly heartwarming vocabulary, or the disposition to shower people in your affection, so this is what you do. most people seem to take the hint. you figure that’s why taehyung puts up with you on at minimum a weekly basis, grabbing a meal together whenever he’s free.

today, he’s seated at your kitchen counter, glancing around your apartment like he hasn’t been here a million times before. you set your ever-gourmet pot of instant noodles down on top of a pot holder. “ta-da,” you beam at him, waving your hands dramatically. “my specialty.”

“you treat me so well,” he says dryly, but his eyes are affectionate and he’s still picking up his chopsticks almost immediately, tongue poking out at the corner of his lips in anticipation. you press your lips together to hide a smile, watching him gather noodles, messily sucking them into his mouth, flicking soup everywhere.

you click your tongue a little but don’t nag, though the look you give him makes him settle down a little, chewing slower and acting at least somewhat more like a civilized human being. he looks properly chastised, and the corner of your lips lift in a small smirk of amusement.

the two of you eat quietly, taehyung because he’s always been quiet and you because you’re lost in thought, enough so that you forget to entertain taehyung the way you usually do (read: complain about almost every class you’re in and lament your age, as if you’re anything more than a year and a half older than taehyung, max). your eyes are distant, chopsticks absently picking up noodles to eat, on autopilot.

you glance back to taehyung, who doesn’t seem to mind your quiet. he’s used to your noise, but you suppose at some point he also grew used to your quiet, too. maybe that’s just what decade-long friendships are like. you learn the usuals, the unusuals, and all of the in between.

teeth gnawing at your lower lip, you wonder if he knows about the guy who’s been hovering around sky. this guy who sky doesn’t want to introduce to you, not yet, which means he’s important enough to her that she cares whether you meet him or not. whether because your opinion matters or because of something else, you haven’t figured out yet.

taehyung’s eyes rise to meet yours, chopsticks halfway to his mouth when he sees the way you gaze at him thoughtfully, head tilted to the side. your brows are drawing in, and he wants to press his fingers to the crease in the middle, undo the tension, but instead he just asks, “something up?”

you hesitate. for just a fraction of a second, but he catches it. because that’s what decade-long friendships are like. but you’re too quick for him to push it, too easily pull on a smile and reach over to tug on his ear like he’s still a child, nagging at him. “i’m fine,” you admonish. “don’t you worry about me, kid.”

he grumbles something incoherent and swats at your hand, grumbles bordering on whines when you don’t let up, until he catches you grinning at him, mischievous as ever. you retract your hand, satisfied by the grumpy look on his face, though your smile falters a little when you see that it’s not enough to wipe the worry in his eyes.

you focus on your food instead, just so you can avoid that look. but you can still feel him staring at you, like he’s waiting for you to give in to him, so you lift your head back up with a beam and start rattling off, extensively, until he loses that look in his eyes. until he’s back to just regular taehyung, sky’s little brother taehyung, neighbor from across the street taehyung, and not grown-up taehyung, walks you home taehyung, eats with you weekly because he doesn’t want you to be lonely taehyung.

you’re not ready to admit it. taehyung’s only gotten more handsome and charming in his own right over the years. it makes it so that you can’t stand the way that he looks at you sometimes, like he can see right through you.

he’s not supposed to. he’s taehyung. he’s part of your safe, little bubble; the one you built, where the sun can only shine.

waking up is such a miserable experience, you muse.

it’s ass o’clock in the morning. honestly, any time you need to wake up before noon is ass o’clock, but you have to study for your exams and you have a help desk shift later too, so unfortunately, 7am it is.

you force yourself to roll out of bed, look vaguely human-shaped (aka: wear respectable enough clothes), and lug yourself to the library. you could study in your room but you’re a weak bitch and the bed being two feet away is too strong a temptation. therefore: library.

you find a corner to hide away in, scribbling away in your notebook in hopes of retaining an ounce of the information you’ve written down. the hours pass like that, and by some miracle, you don’t develop a stress-induced headache by the time you need to leave for your shift.

you toss your belongings into your backpack, tugging it onto your back, a quite physical reminder of the weight on your shoulders.

you don’t necessarily think that life is unkind to you. you just think everyone gets dealt their deck of cards, and yours happens to be slightly shittier. but hey, if you’re broke enough, you get free housing at the nicest set of apartments on campus, so you win some, you lose some, right?

the losing part right now is the multi-set of jobs running you into the ground. between the restaurant, your help desk job, and the work-study program, it’s a miracle you haven’t failed any of your courses.

you heave a sigh, letting yourself feel bad about it for a minute. you deserve at least that, in the quiet of the library this early in the morning, while most of campus is happily sleeping in on a saturday.

‘most’ is the key word here. you should’ve known your best friend has the integrity of a monk, seeing as she’s at the library at nearly 10am on a weekend.

you slink your way over to her, sneaking up behind her and slinging an arm over her shoulder, mouth already open to whisper-shout her name - that is, up until you spot the man standing before her.

the smile slides off your face immediately. for someone at his towering size, he’d been pretty well hidden behind the shelves. he looks suspiciously close in height to the person you’d seen that night at the restaurant, and the other day when you’d brought sky lunch.

he smiles politely at you, dimples denting in his cheeks. your frown deepens. you’re certain now, that you don’t recognize him in your catalog of sky’s acquaintances, and she seems comfortable around him, much more than she is around any of her classmates.

“hi, sun,” sky greets, gentle smile rising to her lips, though you’re too busy sizing up this guy she’s talking to. he’s sort of huge. he has kind eyes, though, hair swept off to the side, white tee tucked loosely into light colored jeans. but you still stand wary, too familiar with boys who have sweet dispositions and not enough good intentions.

see, the first thing anyone notices about sky is that she’s nice.

well, okay. the first thing most people notice about sky is that she’s pretty. elegant, like she was a princess in some past life, between her perpetual good posture (what college student do you know that isn’t hunched over like a gremlin at least 73% of the time?) and perfectly set hair, not a strand out of place. she’s pretty, in a way that carries into her personality, patient and open. she’s always listened to whatever blown-out-of-proportion story you have for her, letting you drag her into any and all of your bad ideas, no matter the consequences.

the point is that sky holds the sort of kindness that knows no boundaries. she’s content to go with the flow, and despite all the times she’s been let down by passing acquaintances who you’ve ensured can no longer call her a friend, she’s still willing to help. she gives out second, third, fourth chances, doesn’t let the hurt get in the way of her ability to care.

her walls don’t go up as high as yours do. so you make every effort to make sure that the people who take advantage of that never get a chance to hurt her.

“who’s this?”

sky blinks, looking between you and him. christ, he is massive. his biceps are probably the size of your head.

you mostly keep your eyes on him, but turn to glance at sky when she takes a minute longer than usual to answer. she looks a bit startled, like she’s just now realizing you’re actually here; moreover, that you don’t know who her new friend is.

“oh,” she says, lips turning downwards a little, conflicted. something inside you flinches. but then her expression clears and she smiles. “this is namjoon. we have class together.”

namjoon lifts a hand to wave even while you’re narrowing your eyes at him. but still, your hands return to your pockets and you take a step back, forcing your stiff shoulders to lower.

you’re intruding, you realize. sky is having a moment with this tall, handsome person who could probably twist you into a pretzel if he wanted to, and you’re intruding.

a weight sits on your chest at the realization, but you force a smile to your face for sky. you and your reputation and your trust issues need to step out of this.

“i.. i gotta get to work,” you say, anxious hands tugging at your backpack straps just for something to hold onto. “i just popped by ‘cause i saw you.” you glance towards namjoon, trying your best to maintain the smile you generally reserve only for close friends, but it turns too quickly into a grimace so you settle for a curt nod of acknowledgement, before lifting a hand to sky. “see you ‘round.”

you pretend not to notice how sky’s expression falters, heading out without turning around once. the discomfort rolls over in you, pulling at your heart, keeping your shoulders tense.

the way sky looks at namjoon is different. you can tell. two minutes in the same space, and you know sky isn’t just being polite like she was raised to be. she’s content to be around him, their eyes darting to meet each other in quick glances, like it’s difficult to let their gazes stray for too long.

namjoon doesn’t give you any immediate warning signs, and sky’s gotten a lot better at picking her friends. you don’t have to protect her, she’s perfectly capable of it herself. but you still feel wary, still worry that dimpled, unassuming namjoon will fuck her over like any number of people have in the past.

including you, your brain reminds you. you’re the worst one.

your heart tightens in your chest and you shoulder your way out the doors of the library, like barreling into something will shake off the memory any easier.

high school is hard for anyone. emotions are at all time highs; everything feels like it’s high stakes. grades, friendships, romances. everything is always, constantly, on the line.

sky always says it’s not your fault. kim seokjin was not your fault. you were teenagers - kids, really - but no matter how she spins it, you know you’re the one who messed up. even if sky doesn’t blame you, you still do.

how are you supposed to trust your instincts, when the last time you let your guard down for a boy with a disarming smile, he hurt not only you, but your best friend?

sky’s your most important person. her family was there when no one else was, and they didn’t ask questions, either. you don’t think you’ll forgive yourself for letting her down once, and you know you can’t afford to let it happen again. no matter how many times sky says you’ve never had anything to apologize for.

you’re so lost in your own head that you almost bump into someone, so wound up that you nearly fire off immediately before realizing it’s taehyung standing in front of you, looking equal parts amused and concerned. “i think i know what they mean now when they say, ‘blaze a path,’” he muses, and you scoff at him, shoving him to the side without any real force.

“walking with purpose is not what that metaphor means, tae,” you keep marching forward, not bothering to check if he’s matching pace. he’s got long legs, he’ll be fine. “‘blazing a path’ means-”

“sun,” taehyung interrupts, voice low enough that you actually stop lecturing him. his voice softens a little. “you alright? you look like-”

you don’t let him finish, nor give him the courtesy of even a glance his way. “i’m dandy, taetae. just going to my nine to five.”

“you don’t have a nine to five. you’re a student.”

“good job, einstein. wanna tell me how the sky is blue, too?”

“sun.”

you know you’re being curt. you’re lashing out at the wrong person and you stop in your steps to breathe in deeply, exhaling slowly.

“i’m just tired,” you finally spare him a look. you sigh. “i’m sorry. but i really do have to go to work, and if i don’t haul ass, i’m gonna be late.”

he looks at you like he doesn’t believe you, but you both know he’s going to drop it. “you should sleep more,” he settles on. you know he’s about to lecture you with a series of hard facts. “people need eight hours-”

you smirk at him, “you know damn well there’s not a single college student out there getting eight hours of sleep.”

he shrugs. “maybe the business majors?”

you snort. “no. they’re out partying.”

he snaps his fingers. “right. forgot about those.”

“you can forget about parties when your best friend is jimin?” you ask in mock amazement. he scoffs out a laugh in return.

“shut up, sun. i’m serious, you need more sleep. you look like death.”

“oooh,” you tease. “you really know how to make a girl feel pretty.”

taehyung turns his gaze skyward, and you know he’s asking some higher being for the patience to put up with you. you snicker, patting him on the arm. “you’ll get it when you’re older,” you blink forlorn eyes at him, smile overly sympathetic. he scowls back. you make a vague attempt at hiding your amusement, but otherwise continue towards the office, taehyung keeping you company. he doesn’t say anything else, just walks with you. you don’t ask where he was supposed to be headed before you bumped into him, and he doesn’t tell you, either.

it’s when you’re almost at the door that you break your silence, that nagging feeling pulling and pulling at you until you crack. “hey,” you spin towards him, stopping in your tracks right in front of the building. “do you know a namjoon?”

he tilts his head, surprised. “namjoon? yeah, he’s like uhh,” taehyung pauses to think. “i think he was sky’s project partner or something, and now they’re pretty good friends. they have class together. why?”

you make a noncommittal noise. “nothing. just saw them together earlier. sky’s never brought him up before.”

you try not to think too hard at the way taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up. it’s a sign that you’re not overthinking this, that it is weird that sky never mentioned him, because sky tells you everything.

but she didn’t tell you about namjoon.

#taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #taehyung #taehyung x y/n #series: tsns #series: kths

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qu0kkarambles · 2 years

Text

Park Jay

Jay x Reader enemies to lovers?

Warnings: unprotected sex, dom jay, tiny bit of sub jay, fingering, oral, teasing, punishment?, virgin reader, alcohol,

Minors DNI

Authors note : This is gonna be my first time writing smut smut with plot intentionally so bare with me if its not that good lol. This is nearly 10k words oops but enjoy I guess? I also havent properly proof read oops.

Since the first day of high school, you and Jay had been on bad terms. You didn’t know why, you didn’t know how, but once you left middle school your closeness became less and less, quickly fading away. Until, eventually, you stopped talking all together. He found a new group of friends, an overly loud and extremely popular group of lads, while you found Soyeon. And you were happy with your friendship. Yes she had a larger group of girlfriends who you didn’t particularly like, but on days when you were alone you’d just listen to your music and time seemed to fly by anyway.

You often missed your friendship with jay. Although you and Soyeon were close, you’d never found the same level of openness that you had with Jay. Before you left middle school, he was more or less your entire support system. When your parents argued, you’d escape to his house and disappear into a movie with him, snuggled under blankets for hours until you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. When you were feeling low, he always knew how to perk you back up, offering ice cream, or a shopping trip, or even just a shoulder to cry on. He knew your deepest secrets, your biggest insecurities, and you knew his. You’d always thought your bond was unbreakable. But he proved you wrong. During the summer between middle school and high school, he avoided you when he could, and when he couldn’t, he’d barely speak to you, avoiding eye contact as well as any physical touch.

Your relationship turned more bitter when Jay started dating Sunmi. She was older, and stunning, and when she found out that you and Jay had once been inseparable friends, she made your life a living hell. Her jealousy at your past friendship with Jay was obvious, but he let her continue, even laughing along with her taunts and insults. She was his first girlfriend, and everyone wanted to date her. So Jay did all he could to keep her. Even if that meant watching as you got more and more hurt by her words. It killed him, but he continued. He’d be stupid to let a girl like Sunmi get away.

But then, she cheated. And he was heartbroken. But he was also the freshman who had dated THE Sunmi. He was untouchable. The guys of the school wanted to be him, the girls wanted to be with him. And so the popularity of his group grew and grew. By the time junior year came around, no one was surprised that his friendship group consisted of the captain of the football team, the smartest guy in the senior class, and arguably the hottest guy in the school, if not the country. Jays group of friends were godlike among your class, and they let it get to their heads. So when girls threw themselves at Jay, he didn’t stop them. And when he saw you, he stopped looking twice at his old friend, distracted by others calling his name. When he heard insults fly your way, or people speak behind your back, he didn’t defend you anymore. As far as he knew, you’d stopped caring as well.

But you hadn’t. Everytime you were shouted at in the halls, or laughed at in class, what hurt more was the uncaring look in his eyes. Seeing how he changed from the sweet sensitive boy you could share your every secret with, to someone you barely knew. Soyeon tried to help you feel better, defending you when she could, but she wasn’t there all the time. By the time senior year finally rolled around, you’d developed a thick skin. Nothing anyone could say would hurt you anymore. Nothing could be said that you hadn’t heard before. You relied on Soyeon less and less, and even began puting yourself in more social situations, knowing the only way to move past the years of being a loner would be to force yourself into parties and try being the ‘average teenager’ your parents always warned you about.

And so that’s how you ended up at Soyeons house on a Friday night, surrounded by her friends. Getting ready and drunk before heading to the annual football Christmas party. To say the party was legendary was an understatement. Every December, once school broke up for the holidays, the football team captain would throw an all out bash, usually resulting at least 2 pregnancy scares, calls to the police of noise complaints and a trip or two to the emergency room. And this year was meant to be the best one yet. Jake was captain of the football team, and his house was incredible. It was the ultimate party house, with all its bedrooms, built in bar, games room and acres of land, it was going to be incredible. It was also rumoured that Heeseung, from the year above, was back from college for the holiday, so would be making an appearance, since the boys were close.

You had developed a small crush on Heeseung in freshman year, never pursuing anything since he was so smart and handsome, your insecurities stopped you. And once he became close friends with Jay, your hopes were well and truly crushed, as you could only imagine the things he could’ve said against you. Still, you were excited to hear that he might be there this evening. Keeping this in mind, you opted for one of your skimpier dresses, a black sparkly bodycon that Soyeon had convinced you to buy the last time you went shopping. The small spaghetti straps held the dress just right, so it gave enough support to not need a bra, and the bottom sat perfectly mid thigh on you, showing of your freshly shaved legs. Even you could admit, you looked hot. While the other girls had more skin on show, some wearing barely anything, you felt comfortable in your subtle sexiness. The dress hugged your curves and the heels you borrowed from Soyen made the entire outfit perfect.

Once the entire group had finished touching up their makeup, finishing their hair and taking an obscene amount of photos, you were out the door and on the way to Jakes house. You’d never been to jakes before, opting out of last year party, and avoiding becoming too close to jake throughout high school due to his closeness with Jay. But once you saw his house from the window of the backseat of Soyeons car, your jaw dropped. It was beautiful, and already had a stream of people outside and music blasting from one of the many rooms. As soon as you got inside, you followed the girls to the kitchen, aching for more alcohol, as you were determined to have a good night, and vodka always helps. As soon as you stepped into the kitchen you heard someone scream your name, and you turned to see kim sunoo barrelling towards you.

Sunoo was a sweetheart, and you’d met each other through the school paper. Though he was part of Jays friendship group, he wasn’t as close to him as some of the other boys, and so you and sunoo quickly became friends. Although you wouldn’t speak too much at school, your online friendship was thriving. The constant stream of memes and funny videos strengthened your relationship outside of the school paper. And you were glad, since you could realy see how the younger boy was flourishing and becoming more confident especially the past year. As he got closer, you could smell the alcohol on his breath, and his stumble into you further pushed the point- he was drunk.

‘Y/n! youre finally heeerrrrrreeee’ he practically shouted in your ear. ‘I’ve been waiting for you come on lets dance.’ As he started pulling you toward the dance floor, his path was blocked by Sunghoon, looking thoroughly unimpressed. The two had been dating for almost a year now, and although hoon was usually the more fun at parties, he seemed sober tonight. ‘come on baby. Let y/n go and lets go outside ok?’ he said sweetly to sunoo. He could see how drunk his boyfriend had gotten and knew if he didn’t try sober him up just a little, they’d be leaving the party a lot earlier than either of them wanted. It was sweet that he was looking out for him, as sunoo had never been this drunk before. As they went to leave the kitchen, and you turned to finish grabbing a drink you heard sunoo say one last thing on his way out.

‘HHEEEEEESSSSEEEEUUUNNNNGGGGG!!!!!!’

The name made your ears prick up. He was actually here. And heading your way. As you turned your body away from the kitchen counter, you collided immediately with a broad, solid chest. When you looked up to apologise, you were mortified to see none other than lee heeseung looking down at you with his deerlike eyes, shocked at how quickly he had managed to ruin his white button down with whatever bright coloured liquid you’d been drinking. You started apologising profusely, interrupted by heeseung placing his hands on your shoulders. ‘Its fine. It’ll wash out. Y/n, right?’. Taken aback that he knew your name, all you could do was nod as he dabbed at the stain on his shirt. Finally becoming more aware, you snatched the cloth from him. ‘I spilled it, I’ll help clear it up. Plus the way youre doing it, youre just spreading the stain. ’ You took over dabbing at his shirt, trying to remove as much of the stain as possible, unaware of the eyes on you.

While heeseung was watching you paw at his chest, across the room, Jay was also watching. Through his half drunk state all he could see was your hands all over heeseung. Heeseung, his best friend who hadn’t even said hello to him yet. And you. Together. He didn’t know why, but it made his blood boil. As he took another swig of his drink and stormed toward the pair of you. You finished clearing heeseung’s top to the best of you ability, and as you put the cloth down you felt his strong hand gently grab your wrist, turning you to him as he asked for a dance. Finally, the moment you had been waiting for since freshman year. The Lee Heeseung was asking you to dance. At the exact moment you were about to say yes, jay barged between the two of you, separating the hold heeseung had on your wrist.

‘Heeseung, how’s it going man. Long time no see.’ He said, the faintest hint of sarcasm lacing his tone though neither you nor heeseung knew why. ‘It’s good bro, I was actually just asking Y/n to dance, if you’ll excuse us’. Jay was quick to reply, grabbing your hand before heeseung could. ‘ Ooh sorry bro, I actually need to borrow y/n outside for a minute. We’ll come find you later though’. Before you could process what was happening Jay had dragged you out of the kitchen, through the swarm of dancing bodies and outside into the cool night air. When he stopped, you pulled your wrist away. ‘what was that all about? What did you need me for?’ you questioned, wondering why after 3 and a half years of not talking, he suddenly needed to speak to you so urgently. And right when heeseung asked you to dance.

When he failed to answer you pushed again, asking what it was he needed to talk to you about. But he stood silently, staring into the vast garden area behind the house. After a minute or so, you gave up on getting an answer out of him, and turned to find your way back into the house. As you turned, he snaked his arm around your hips and pulled your back against his chest. ‘please don’t go. Not yet’ he pleaded. You could hear a desperation in his voice, which made you hesitate. ‘Jay, what are y-‘ ‘please, just stay for a little bit’ he whispered. He sounded vulnerable, and you stopped trying to pull away. In fact you melted more into his touch, and he moved your hair to the side and started gently placing the sweetest kisses on your neck. You felt entirely alone in the world, party forgotten about completely, until you heard voices turning the corner from the side of the house, heading toward you. Before you could process what was happening, jay pushed you away from him, with enough force to make you stumble, almost falling off the porch into sunghoon. The voices you had heard were him and sunoo, returning from their mission to try and sober up . It appeared to have worked, as the younger boy seemed more stable on his feet. But his words were still slurred and he was clingier than usual to his boyfriend.

‘woah y/n, you ok?’ sunghoon asked, setting you more upright on your feet as you were still processing what had happened. ‘She’s had way too much to drink mate, you know how girls get at parties like this. Think if they throw themselves at some guy they can finally have a shot. Pathetic.’ He practically spat the words at you. They came tumbling out of jays mouth before he could realise what he was saying, but the look on your face as they hit you made the reality of his harshness hit home for him. But, instead of taking them back immediately, he turned on his heel and headed back inside, leaving the three of you shocked on the porch, still reeling from his brutal comments.

As tears began to well in your eyes, sunoo piped up. ‘Y/n, are you ok? What happened?’ ‘I need to go home. Do you know anyone sober enough to take me home?’ your words merged into one, as you were doing all you could to hold the tears at bay. ‘Hoonie, you’re sober’ sunoo gently shoved his boyfriend in your direction as he agreed to take you home. The two of you walked in silence to his car, leaving sunoo at the party under the watchful eyes of their other friends. You had never spent much time alone with sunghoon, so the silence was awkward, even more so considering Jay’s outburst. You were confused to say the least. Why would he invite you outside to speak, and then not say anything? Why would he hold you against his chest, and kiss up your neck, only to push you away and insult you seconds later? It made no sense. So you spent the car ride with sunghoon in silence, trying to figure out the enigma that was Jay Park.

Once home, with sunghoon leaving to head back to his boyfriend, you removed your makeup while going over what had happened that night. No matter how many times you recapped the events of the evening, you couldn’t make sense of it. Finally deciding to just sleep it off, you tucked yourself into bed, hoping it would make more sense in the morning. As you reached to turn off your phone, a notification popped up.

JAY is Typing…

You sat looking for the follow up ping, staring at your phone, waiting for the message to actually send. 5 minutes passed, and still nothing. Another 5. Nothing. You clicked on the app to see the ominous typing bubble had disappeared. Whatever Jay was going to say, he had clearly thought better of it. Giving up on the hopes of a message tonight, you drifted off to sleep. What you didn’t know, was that across town, Jay was in bed, alone, typing and erasing the same message again and again. He just didn’t know what to say. But being so close to you again tonight, after so long with little/no contact, it had stirred something in him. He wasn’t sure what, but he knew he had to find out. And to do that, he had to see you again. But alone this time. So he wouldn’t have to pull you away from heeseung, and you wouldn’t get interrupted by anyone, and you wouldn’t disappear off when he came back to find you. Eventually he decided to sleep, and message you in the morning. When he wasn’t half asleep, and he couldn’t taste beer in his throat, and his room wasn’t slowly spinning.

When you finally awoke around noon the following day, you were surprised to still see no message from Jay. You started to question your drunken self. Did he even start typing a message? And why was this affecting you so much? You decided to put Jay to the back of your mind, opting instead to focus on more important things- breakfast. Your stomach was growling at you, and you slinked doen to your kitchen, not surprised to see the house empty except for you. Since your parents divorce 2.5 years ago, you were home alone more often than not. Not that you would complain. You liked you personal space. The peace and quiet gave you time to think. Although this particular weekend you almost wished there was someone home- to interrupt your thoughts. All you could think sbout was Jay- his hand on your wrist, his arm around your waist, his lips on your neck. And his silence, his outburst, and his lack of a message. Every new thing he did was confusing you.

And it continued to confuse you for the next 2 weeks. 2 weeks with no message from Jay, no explanation for his behaviour, nothing. Sunoo continued to spam your tiktok with funny videos or cute animals, and when you dared to ask about Jay, he said he hadn’t spoken to him since the night of the party. For 2 weeks, almost no one heard from Jay. The only person he spoke to was Jake, ad even he was confused. Jake was a kind, caring guy, but he wasn’t always too switched on to emotional needs. That was always Heeseungs area of expertise. But, Jay refused to speak to heeseung, ignoring messages and sending calls to voicemail. For 2 weeks, Jay was relatively off grid, hiding away in his room. And to be honest, even he didn’t really no why. He thought maybe he was sexually frustrated, but his overflowing dating apps did nothing to uplift his mood.

By the time New Years Eve had rolled around, Jay was getting frustrated at himself. He didn’t know what was wrong, and it was affecting his friendships. Massively. He decided to try make it up to his friends by offering to host this years NYE party. NYE parties at your school were always fun, never as chaotic as the end of semester party a couple of weeks before, but a close competitor. As per usual, the invites were sent to the entire class, and Soyeon was determined to drag you along with her and her friends again. She was still a little annoyed that you’d abandoned her (her words) at the last party, and to make it up to her, you agreed to go. When you found out the location, you nearly dropped out immediately, until Soyeon reminded you of your promise. You jut had to hope you and Jay would revert to your old high school relationship – no contact.

You arrived at the party and were having a blast. The drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and sunoo had found you once again, although much more sober this time. As midnight edged closer, the younger boy dragged you to the dance floor, complaining about how ‘Hoonie doesn’t dance with me. Says its too crowded for him.’ You danced with sunoo for what felt like hours, and before you knew it, loud shouts were counting down from 10.

’10,9,8,7,6’

‘5’

You sensed someone move behind you.

‘4’

You felt a strong pair of hands on your waist.

‘3’

The hands pulled you backwards, into a strong chest.

‘2’

They turned you and you find yourself face to face with the mystery man.

‘1-Happy New Year’

Before you know it, lee heeseungs lips meet yours.

On instinct, you began kissing him back, and one of his hands snaked its way from your hips to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. As suddenly as your kiss had begun, it was interrupted. He stormed between you, breaking your kiss and picked you up over his shoulder, as you battled against him to be put down. He ignored your weak fists and carried you away from Heeseung, away from the crowd of people, upstairs and into his bedroom. You remembered it well from years ago. Though the decor had changed slightly, it was the same room. Thoroughly Jay, even down to the dark grey bedsheets on his perfectly made bed. When he gently placed you done on the edge of the bed, you were up like a rocket ranting at him and throwing a million questions at him. ‘What are you doing? Why did you interrupt us? Why am I up here? What’s wrong with you? What-‘

Your interrogation was halted when you found his lips on yours. His kiss was different to heeseung’s. Less teasing and playful, more determined. He pulled away to catch his breath and before you could comprehend what had happened his lips were back on you, this time joined by his one hand working its way to your neck, and his other sitting firmly on you hips, holding you flush against him. His lips were intoxicating, and before you knew it, you were kissing him back, arms wrapped around his neck to keep his body hard against yours. His kiss became slowly softer, and more intimate. He palmed at your ass, causing you to let out the sweetest moan, allowing his tongue entry. The two of you battled for dominance within the kiss, and you finally allowed him to win. As he began exploring your mouth, the hand from your hips sneakily slipped up your flimsy top, and started gently running up and down your sides. The motion made you all the more sensitive, causing more and more low moans to escape your mouth. When his lips moved their assault from your lips to your jaw and neck, you finally slipped out of the trance you’d somehow fallen into.

‘Jay. What the fuck?!’ you shouted as you pushed him off you. He looked more hurt than you expected, but before things went any further you need some sort of explanation. ‘I-I don’t know what- I’m sorry if yo- I’m just-‘ he was fumbling over his words, clearly unsure what he wanted to say. You had never seen him like this. Jay was eternally confident, self-assured, sometimes even arrogant. But right now, he looked so confused and lost. And you missed the feeling of his lips on your skin more than you cared to admit. Explanations can wait, right? As his eyes fell to the floor, your fingers carefully grasped his chin, pulling his face to look at yours. You looked into each others eyes, the tension palpable before you took Jays lips with your own, once again falling into the feeling of him. Once again the mood had shifted, and this kiss was gentle, almost as if he was afraid he might break you. Your low moans from before had become shallow gasps, and the sound spurred him on further, slowly walking you back to the bed.

When the back of your legs hit the bed, you leant backwards onto the bed, pulling jay with you. As his hands began to explore your body once again, the gentle grazes up your sides were replaced with a firmer, more desperate touch. As he lifted your top to expose your bra, he couldn’t hold back his low chuckle at the sight of your pristine white lacy underwear. It made so much sense. Your lingerie only added to jays image of how pure and innocent you looked, and when he pulled down your jeans to reveal the matching set of panties, he swore he could cum just from the sight of you. Laid out, in your white lace set, looking up at him with your big innocent eyes. And the way he looked at you, like you were some prized possession, his last meal, his prey. It dampened your core further, causing the white lace of your panties to show off your growing arousal. You pulled his head down to you by the back of his neck, reconnecting your lips briefly before he lifted away to explore the rest of your body.

Starting from your jaw, he began leaving warm gentle kissing over your skin, down your neck, over the swell of your chest, on top of the lace of your bra. The warmth seeping through the flimsy fabric caused a strangled moan to fall from your lips, as he slowly worshipped your chest, paying special attention to each nipple as it hardened beneath the lace. As you moaned again, he pulled your cups down to truly take you all in, desperate to taste your skin again. You arched your back toward his mouth, too lost in the pleasure of his mouth on your chest, that you failed to notice his hand slowly moving lower. Before you knew it, his hand had slipped past the lace covering you, feeling the heat directly on his fingers. You mewled at the feeling of his fingers teasing you, gasping for breath as his mouth continued its ministrations. Before long, jay lost his patience with your panties. ‘I need these off and out of the way. Now.’ He growled in your ear, and you didn’t reply, simply slipping your panties past your legs and off to the side, quickly forgotten. Without the lacy restraint, he was more free to taste you, and he took this opportunity.

His mouth felt heavenly on you, and as he licked a stripe up your entrance you thread your fingers through his hair, holding him closer to you. He took this hint, and stopped teasing, allowing you to feel the full extent of his skills. His mouth was magical, and before long you could feel your high barrelling toward you. With no warning, you came undone under his gaze. As he worked you through your high you looked at him and he looked back with pure lust in his eyes. The look you shared was almost enough to make you cum again, but before you could, Jay was repositioning himself above you, his clothes abandoned.

You could finally see how desperate he had become, and when he positioned himself at your entrance you held his arm to stop him. ‘Jay wait.’ You whispered, barely audible.

‘What? What’s wrong princess?’ he asked, concern lacing his voice as he tried to meet your eyes. ‘I haven’t- This is my first time, ok’ you finally admitted. You weren’t ashamed, but you felt slightly embarrassed laid bare in front of jay who had so much experience. Immediately, he touched your cheek, pulling your face to meet his. ‘we don’t have to. We can stop here. Its ok’ he assured you that it was fine, but as he sat back on his heels to move away from you, you reached out to him.

‘I want to. But just, be gentle?’

After reassuring him this was definitely what you wanted, he repositioned himself at your entrance, mouth gently kissing up your neck until he reached your ear. ‘This might hurt a little, but I’ll go slow. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. If you want me to keep going, I’ll keep going. You are in complete control.’ As he finished lowly whispering the words into your ear, you felt him push past your entrance. The stretch was slightly painful, but you nodded for Jay to continue, waiting and hoping for the pain to turn to pleasure. And it very quickly did. Jay was a very skilled and experienced man. Once he got the go ahead from you to start moving, he began a slow steady pace, ensuring you felt every inch of him. Gradually his pace increased, along with the volume of your moans. Before you knew it you were practically screaming his name. The party was still ongoing downstairs, and the music drowned out any hope of anyone hearing. But still, Jay slowed, groaning against your lips. ‘Be quiet baby, we don’t want anyone to interrupt us.’ Once you had caught your breath, he increased his pace again.

This time you tried your best to hold your moans, struggling to keep them contained when jay had set such a torturous pace. Eventually, your moans reached a similar volume, begging jay for more, harder, faster as you approached your second high of the evening. Jay reconnected your lips in an attempt to silence you, but the combination of his heavenly lips with the pace of his hips sent you flying toward your high. You began to shake as you came around him, clenching him so hard he followed right after, pulling out to cum on your stomach. Catching your breath, you admired the mess hed made on your stomach, and how worn out he looked. You had done that to him. You had affected him in this way. And it made you feel powerful. Once Jay had also caught his breath, he slipped into fresh boxers and quickly grabbed a wet cloth from his bathroom, taking extra care to clean up the mess you had both made.

Once he finished wiping your stomach, he tossed the cloth in the wash bin and reached for an old shirt of his and a clean pair of shorts for you to sleep in. Once he had dressed you, he tucked you under his covers and slipped in behind you, pulling you closer to him, arm lolling over your waist. As you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the nights activities, he couldn’t help but notice how small you looked. Under his sheets, in his clothes, wrapped in his arms. It was the most adorable you’d ever looked to him. He eventually drifted off too, with thoughts of you clouding his mind.

You woke with a slither of sunlight beaming next to your face, and the bed empty beside you. You half wondered if it had all been a dream, but the clattering downstairs bought you back to the present, where you were lying in jays bed. In his clothes. In his house. The morning after the best night of your life. With the way things had escalated between you and jay, you had almost forgotten how Heeseung kissed you. In the space of one night, your long term crush had kissed you, and your ex-best fiend had taken your virginity. It was a lot to process. And processing it in Jays bed wasn’t helping your mind. Your thoughts were over run with him. Reliving last nights events had you practically squirming, unaware of how desperate jay had made you. Seeking relief, you got out of his silky sheets and headed downstairs towards the noise. When you turned the corner into the kitchen, you saw jay in his baggy grey sweatpants, tidying up from the previous nights chaos. When he saw you standing in his kitchen, wearing his clothes and still slightly dishevelled from the night before, his heart leapt from his chest and he stopped what he was doing. He went to speak, but realised he really didn’t know what to say. You were looking at him so expectantly, but he had nothing. So you spoke up quietly uttering ‘morning jay’ followed by a small smile.

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say but you Definitely didn’t expect to see him so flustered. Last night he had been so commanding, so in control. And now, he could barely figure out what to say. He stumbled over his words for a second before you interrupted him. ‘so, what have you got planned today?’ you sweetly asked, sliding over to him. You went to wrap your arms around his waist when he suddenly turned to look at you, looking more distant. ‘the guys are coming over. You should go before they get here. Your clothes should still be upstairs for you.’ He said bluntly. Taken aback, you looked at him and watched as he continued with his tidying, picking up stray solo cups and empty cans.

Not knowing what to say, you turned on your heels and walked back upstairs, back to his room. To the bed you had shared and the sheets you had cuddled under. You still didn’t understand what had happened. Less than 12 hours ago, you and jay were having sex in his bed. And now this? It didn’t make sense and you were determined to figure out what had happened. You took off the clothes you were wearing, deciding the smell of him was not helping you anger, and put your own clothes from last night back on. Once redressed you stormed back downstairs. Jay was still tidying, nearing the end of his clear up duty when you stomped in, red in the face.

What the fuck Jay? What is wrong with you? How do we spend the night together and all you can say is you should go? After everything we’ve been through? I know we haven’t been friends in a while but surely you didn’t change that much. surely you haven’t become that much of an asshole in highschool.’ You shouted your rant at him, spitting the last words to add to the insult. He stood unmoving, looking at the countertop he had been cleaning before you barged in. when he continued to stand in silence, you scoffed and turned to leave, your words still hanging in the air. ‘wow. Nothing to say for yourself. Typical.’

And with that you left. You left his house, and you tried to leave the memories. Of how he touched you, how he was so gentle yet so powerful. Of how he looked when you went off on him, and how he stood saying nothing. You were on the brink of tears, but you refused to let jay see you like this. Once you made it home you crashed onto your bed, hoping to sleep some more and forget about stupid Jay Park. Although you struggled to fall asleep, once you were, youre dreams were filled with Jay. With his hands on your body, whispering the filthiest things in your ear in the sweetest voice, pounding into you mercilessly while kissing you softly. When you woke up, you were embarrassed by how much your dream had affected you.

Stepping in the shower, you decided to relieve yourself, imagining jays strong hands in place of yours until you reached your high. And you decided, while looking in the steamed up mirror as you stepped out of the shower, that this would be the last time you thought of Jay like this. With clarity and determination, you decided not to let him bother you anymore. You had gone years not talking. You could go back to that quite easily. You refused to let him use you in this way. You continued the rest of your holiday break with the same resolve, focusing on upcoming deadlines and college applications, as well as finding more time to spend with sunoo. Since the party, you two had become inevitably closer. And you were glad. The younger boy was a more than welcome distraction from Jay.

When the time came to go back to school, you had strengthened your will against jay. Nothing he could do would affect you anymore, you were sure of it. Walking through the corridors in the early morning, you felt a strange sense of confidence. How dare he treat you this way. Turning a corner, you spotted sunoo and sunghoon by their lockers, and when they caught your eye, they waved you over. Getting closer to sunoo over the break inevitably meant you grew closer to sunghoon as well. As the ever caring boyfriend, he was often at sunoos beck and call. It was cute, how smitten they were for each other. Before long, the boys were being called over to their friends, and you could see Jay amongst them. You walked past the group at the same time sunoo and sunghoon rejoined them, purposely swaying your hips a little as you walked. Before you made it passed the group, you heard someone call your name, but to your surprise, it wasn’t Jay. ‘Y/n, I was asked to give you this.’ Jake handed you a small piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it. ‘Heeseung wanted me to give it to you. He’s not going back to college for another few weeks, and mentioned something about finishing what you started New years eve.’ As he turned back to his friends, you noticed Jay staring at you, waiting to see what you would do.

You remembered your promise to yourself, and pocketed the number, calling back to Jake. ’thanks Jake, I’ll call him.’ And you did, in the small break you had between classes. Just a simple message.

Hey hows it going? Jake gave me your number and mentioned you weren’t leaving town for another few weeks. If you wanna hang out let me know.

It was a small text, and you were surprised to see heeseung reply so quickly, arranging to meet you the following weekend for some food and a couple of drinks. You could barely believe it. You were going on a date with Heeseung, and it suddenly seemed the easiest thing in the world to forget about Jay. Until he perched himself on the chair in front of you, eyes dark and angry. ‘We need to speak. Outside. Now.’ His voice was demanding and you thought better of questioning him. He walked out of the school building to stand by the trees , lining the perimeter of the grounds. He was after privacy, making you question what this conversation would be about. When he stopped you began to speak. ‘What do you wa-‘ ‘Youre going on a date with Heeseung?’ he interrupted you. ‘What? How did you know that?’ you were impressed. You had plans with heeseung less than 5 minutes how did he already know? ‘He put it in our group chat. He’s excited by the way. Are you?’he questioned, still looking angry.

‘Yeah I guess. What’s it got to do with you anyway?’ Your question shocked him, as he didn’t expect you to be like this. ‘Y/n, have you forgotten what happened over new years?’ he looked as if he was genuinely concerned for your memory, which made you scoff as you answered him. ‘No Jay. I haven’t forgotten. Have you?’ ‘of course not. It was one of the best nights of my life how could I.’ he confessed. ‘And the morning after? You remember that too? How you practically kicked me out as soon as I woke up cos you didn’t want your little friends to see me? And how you didn’t message me once I the 2 weeks since?’ your tone was mocking now, your anger resurfacing. ‘Please let me explain.’ He begged, and the look in his eye made you stay. ‘you have 2 minutes. Explain.’

‘I don’t really know where to start. I don’t really know a lot to be quite honest and I’ve been trying to figure it out the past few weeks because. Well when I saw you at that party before Christmas, talking to heeseung, it made me so mad and I don’t know why, and then on new years. Seeing him kiss you. It hurt and I had to stop it from hurting. And being with you was the best night of my life. I mean it. But I’ve not felt like this about anyone in so long and im scared what will happen if I cross a line and im sorry. Im sorry for acting the way I did. Insulting you infront of sunoo and sunghoon and being so blunt after new years and not messaging you. I wanted to, I promise I did but I just didn’t know what to say and please forgive me.

Your resolve lasted about 2 seconds before you crumbled. You pulled him closer to you, partially to stop his rambling and partially because you just wanted to be close to him. Jay had just confessed to you, ad although it was still confusing and you had a lot to figure out, you were over the moon. You had liked Jay since you were young, never taking the opportunity to confess, scared it would ruin your friendship. And once you stopped talking, it seemed the feelings faded to the back of your mind. But they were quick to reignite. As you pulled away from each other, your phone buzzed, a message from Heeseung.

Perfect see you Friday :)

‘I should probably tell him, right?’ you asked, as jay started pacing in front of you. ‘No, please don’t’ he pleaded. ‘what do you mean no? you want me to go on this date?’ you asked, more confused than ever. ‘No. you’re not going on that date.’ His voice was stern, and it turned you ona little whe he was like this. ‘but, I don’t want to ruin this before it starts. I don’t want to tell people we are- whatever we are. Can it just be us, for a while, until we figure this out properly? Please?’ ‘ok, I can do that. I guess I’ll come up with some excuse on Friday to why I cant make it’ you agreed.

The relief on Jays face was visible, and it made you blush that you had managed to make him so happy with such a small thing. When you strolled back inside, he separated away from you earlier than you would’ve liked, but your agreement was clear in your mind- no one else would know. When you got a text during the day to go to his house that evening, your heart was aflutter. This all felt so new and strange, but exciting nonetheless. When you arrived at his house after class that day, he pulled you into his arms after closing the door behind him and gently kissed your forehead, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You spent the evening curled up in his front room, a crappy sci-fi film that neither of you were watching playing through the TV, while you ordered food and settled on the ground rules for your relationship.

No one else finds out – not until were both ready.

At school, nothing changes- we don’t want to seem suspicious

No meeting the parents – its too soon and too much pressure

Speak at least twice a day- whether online or at either of yours houses, keep communication a priority.

You both knew jay was going to struggle with the last one, but you put it in there for good measure. With the two of you finally on the same page, you couldn’t wait to head upstairs to his room. Once his door was closed, he was on you in a flash, kissing up your neck and unwrapping you from your clothes in record speed. With his lips on your skin, every other worry you had slipped away, disappearing until it felt like you and jay were the only people in the world.

You could tell from the start that tonight would be different from your time together on new years. With your confessions on both of your minds, and the excitement of a potential new relationship, tonight was not about desperation, or drunken haste. It was about learning each others bodies, and claiming the other as your own. Jay pushed you down lo lie on his bed, laid out for him to worship. You were completely naked for him, while he still had all his clothes on. Trying to lift his shirt of he pulled back, stopping your hands. ‘I want tonight to be about you. All about you. We can get to me later’ he said, holding your wrists above your head as he hovered over you.

Kissing your lips with a new determination made you more needy for him, and you started arching your chest toward him, desperate to hold him. But your hands were still trapped in his above your head. Whining your desperate pleas into his lips, he chuckled into your mouth at how needy you were, preaching patience as his mouth worked its way down to your jaw. He whispered filthy thoughts into your ear. Of how he was going to ruin you, claim you as his own, love you the way only he could. His mouth continued its torture down your chest, finding your nipple and sucking it gently until it pebbled for him. Your quite gasps grew more frequent as he sucked, licked and toyed with your nipple, playing with the sensitive bud, all while using one hand to keep your hands above your head. His other hand was ensuring your other nipple was not neglected playing with how sensitive you were and learning what made your quick gasps turn into low moans. As he moved his mouth to your other breast, he nipped at your skin causing a high pitched moan to leave your lips. The sound was heaven to jays ears, and made him grow painfully harder in his pants. But he continued his ministrations on your chest, only leaving them to move his head lower down your body. You grew more excited, aching for relief between your thighs. But your excitement was short lived as jay began kissing a trail over your stomach and up your sensitive sides, alternating between sucking, licking and gently nipping at your skin, working you up beyond compare.

After what felt like an eternity, jay finally reached your core. He could see how you were practically dripping for him, and he released your hands before positioning himself between your legs. Finally the moment you had been waiting for, praying for. Jay teased you a little longer, kissing your thighs heading toward your core until you lost your patience. With your hands free, you thread your fingers through his hair pulling his head up until his eyes met yours. ‘Enough teasing now.’ You commanded him, liking the power you felt when his eyes changed from a fiery stare to a more submissive glint. ‘Yes ma’am’ he replied with a mischievous obedience. When you weren’t so worked up, you would have to explore Jays more submissive side. But for now you were so desperate for him that when his mouth finally met you core, all rational thought left your head. Focused only on his mouth on you, your moans increased as his teasing had you teetering dangerously close to the edge already. As his tongue continued its magic on your clit, his fingers slipped into you, pulling a low moan from your lips. His fingers stretched you just the right away as you arched your back, lifting your hips further into him. As you felt your high approach, Jay had one more trick up his sleeve. He curled his fingers against your walls, pushing you over the edge, and making you clench mercilessly around him as your legs began to shake. With his mouth still on you, he worked you through your orgasm, in awe of how he could make you come undone. Once your legs stopped shaking, he kissed his way back up your stomach, over your chest and met your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought was overwhelming. The new position also meant you could feel how hard jay had grown, as he pressed against your thigh. Reaching down to his bottoms, you slipped you hand beneath the fabric and slid a finger over his tip. The sweetest moan left his lips as he bucked into your hand. Pleasuring you had made him overly sensitive, so when you pressed your finger again along his tip, he whined once more, precum covering your fingers.

‘You took such good care of me baby, let me take care of you?’ you turned him over, so he was sat up leaning against the head board. Pulling his bottoms fully down, you could fully see his desperation. Licking a single stripe from the base of his dick, he let out a strangled moan. You had never had this power over a man before, so you were going to take advantage of it. Wrapping your lips around his tip, he scrunched his eyes closed, tipping his head back in pleasure as you lowered your mouth more around him. Hollowing your cheeks and using your hand on the parts you couldnt reach, you fell into a steady rhythm, alternating between taking his full length in your throat, and focusing only on the tip. You ran your tongue flat over his tip as he praised you for doing such a good job. ‘Yes Y/n, just like that oh god’ he moaned his praise, his words going straight to your core. Asyou took his length in your mouth again, you looked up at him through your fluttering lashes, eyes watering. From this angle, you looked truly heavenly, plump lips wrapped around him and big eyes looking up at him.

‘Fuck Y/n I’m gonna cum. Fuck where can I cum?’ he groaned his question as you pulled off him with a pop. ‘I wanna taste you.’ Was all you said before taking him back in your mouth, increasing your pace until he released down your throat. Swallowing all you could manage, you pulled off his dick, cum dripping down your chin where it had spilled out of your mouth. Jay looked so fucked out as his fingers gathered his cum from your face, placing his finger on your tongue. You obediently sucked his digit, swallowing every drop of his release. ‘God such a pretty cum slut for me’ he praised you further, before pulling you into his arms. The combination of your earlier high, as well, as the effort you’d spent on jay had you worn out, so he pulled you under his covers, and cuddled into you as you slept.

The rest of the week continued in very much the same way. At school, you barely knew each other, and in the evenings, you spent your time together, learning all you could about each other. Finally, Friday rolled around, and your date with heeseung was upon you. You had continued to play along as if you were planning on going, as per Jays instruction. You agreed to stick to the rules you had both set out, and so continued as you were before jay had confessed. When class ended Friday afternoon, you and jay found yourselves at your house. Since your parents were rarely home, and his were busy running a highly successful travel company, there was always an empty house for the two of you to retreat to. You were both laid out on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap and his hands on your calves as you flicked through the TV channels, trying to find something to watch.

Your phone started ringing, Heeseungs name flashing up on your screen. He was calling to confirm your date for later that evening. Though you and Jay hadn’t told anyone about the two of you yet, you had discussed at length what you would say to heeseung when the time of your date rolled around. You answered the phone, adding a phony croak to your voice. ‘Hey heeseung, you ok?’ you croaked. His reply was full of concern for you, wondering what was causing your sore throat. As you began explaining your imaginary symptoms, Jays hands slowly slid further and further up your legs, your short skirt doing very little to halt his advances. You glared at him, still feigning illness on the phone to heeseung, while trying to contain your excitement as Jays fingers slipped into your panties, feeling your dampening core.

‘Heeseung I- Ive got to go I’m not going to make it tonight sorry’ you stumbled over your words as Jay continued working you open with his fingers. ‘Such a slut hmm, lying to heeseung while you fall apart under me’ Jay whispered into your unoccupied ear. You had to hold back your moan, all while Heeseung was debating coming over to take care of you. ‘No, you don’t have to, god no’ you almost moaned the las bit. You were falling apart under Jay, while heeseungs concerned voice rang through the phone, wishing you to get better soon. After what felt like forever you hung up the phone, tossing it aside as you finally moaned jays name. His fingers were reaching to your most sensitive spot, the past week giving him perfect opportunity to learn your body perfectly. Within minutes of being off the phone, your hands were grabbing jays biceps as he worked you through your high, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents on his blemish free arms.

You came down from your high with jay placing sweet kisses against your lips. He was shocked when you swatted his arm. ‘I cant believe you did that. We could’ve been caught’ You chastised him. ‘Sorry princess, you just look so cute, I couldn’t resist’ he sweetly replied trying to sweet talk you. You shifted your body until you were straddling his hips, feeling how turned on he had gotten. ‘aw baby. You always get so hard from pleasuring me. Such a good boy for me, always taking care of me first.’ You sounded sickly sweet, almost mocking him as you’re hips still hovered over him, denying him the friction he craved. ‘you know how you affect me princess.’ He tried to stay in control of the situation, but teasing you while on the phone with heeseung wasn’t acceptable, so you wanted to have your fun with him. You palmed him over his trousers, making him hiss through his teeth, jaw clenched trying not to moan out. You stopped palming him to wrap your fingers around his jaw, pulling his face to look at you. ‘don’t you dare try and hide your moans from me, baby boy.’ His eyes widened at your commanding tone, your cute innocent look immediately replaced in his mind with a more dominating, powerful, sexy version of you.

With a small moan he continued to look up at you through wide eyes, and as your hand lowered back down to his crotch, the slightest pressure caused a whine from his lips. You slipped off is legs to allow yourself to slide his trousers off from beneath him. Removing his trousers and underwear in one fell swoop, you lightly dragged your finger over his length, barely touching him. You dusted your finger over one bulging vein, which had him bucking up toward you. ‘Ah no baby. Keep still for me ok’ you placed your arm over his abdomen, to hold his hips down on the sofa. You continued to torture him with slight gentle touches, barely dusting over him, teasing him and working him up. ‘Now, will you be a good boy for me baby, or do I have to keep teasing you?’

‘Please Y/n.’ he begged.

‘Please what baby? Use your words for me.’

‘Please touch me. Please princess I need you.’ He was squirming under your touch. You decided you had teased him enough, placing his tip on your flat tongue, working your mouth around his tip. The whines and moans that fell from jays mouth was heaven to your ears, and encouraged you further to take him fully in your mouth. Your teasing had him worked up, so he didn’t last long when you were pumping your mouth over his length again and again. His hips began shaking, and he began to beg. ‘Please Y/n, can I cum? Please let me cum princess’ he was almost tearing up as you gave him permission with a gentle nod of your head, still continuing your pace. When he came on your tongue, you swallowed his release, becoming addicted to his taste over the past week. His chest was heaving under you as you moved up to cup his cheek, turning his face to look at you once again. ‘That’s what you get for teasing me when I’m on the phone’ you chuckled.

Over the following weeks, you and jay grew closer to one another, catching up on everything you had missed the years that you didn’t speak. Sunghoon as the first to find out about your relationship. Spending time with you because of his boyfriend, and seeing how both you and jay had changed, yet still didn’t interact, it became obvious to him. When he pulled you both aside to let you know that he had figured out your little secret, you were both shocked. It was concerning how observant he was. He promised to keep your secret, but eventually you agreed just to tell your friends about you. Sunoo was overjoyed, if not a little annoyed that sunghoon hadn’t told him as soon as he realised. Heeseung was less thrilled to here the news, but when he was next home his mind quickly changed when he saw how happy you were together. Once you ad heeseungs blessing, you took it as a good sign to meet the parents. You each had your turn to be a nervous wreck, worrying if you’d be liked or not. But both encounters went better than expected, with jays mum telling you to call her mum. His dad took a little longer to warm to you, but came round soon enough when you shared your home baked brownies with him.

After almost 8 months of being together, you both moved to university. Luckily, before any of this began, you’d both been looking at the same campus, and moving in together felt right. You would be on campus with sunghoon and jake as well, as they had all chosen the big city university an hour from your small town. Before you knew it, a year had flown by, and New years felt more special than before. The following year, sunoo would join, moving in with sunghoon, and your friendship with the younger boy grew more than anyone could’ve predicted. Life was good, and you often thought back to the years between. When Jay didn’t acknowledge you. And your parents would argue everyday. And you had almost no friends. Looking back on how far youd come always made you emotional, and Jay would pick up on it right away, pulling you close, and reminding you of how much he loved you.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jay #jay smut #kpop smut #enhypen hard hours

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scienceoftheidiot · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday Friday

I do what I want

So I'm still working through the monster fic that is "dismissed Roy" and this fic starts each new chapter and change of POV with a small header that serves as a flashback to a specific moment, letting you glimpse what happened between Promised Day and the start of the fic. And this morning I had an idea for one of those flashbacks but. Like. This is not a header this is almost a fucking chapter by itself, it's so long 😅 oops, nevermind. I mean the fic will soon be 100K, has 10K chapters, so what if a header is a little too long 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anyway have a small part of it. They've made a deal: if Riza helps Roy, she has to allow him to help her, too. Harder said than done.

The white sound of the water fills Riza's ears. The Colonel - Roy, come on, he can't be anything else while they're sitting down in their pyjamas in his bathroom and he's getting ready to try and help her wash her hair with actual water for the first time in weeks - Roy tests the water by her side, running it on his forearm until he's satisfied with the temperature. "May I?" "I think I already gave you permission," she smiles, a nervous smile, why is she so nervous, why is she even here?

Roy nods, and his thigh presses more against her shoulder while he slowly extends his free hand towards her face. One of his fingers brushes her nose, and he pauses to interpret what he's touching before he course corrects.

Riza's eyes can't leave his face. She can't really tell what this air of serious concentration on his features does to her, but she takes it in. It makes something inside her swirl - it always has. She likes when he looks like that. It's the look that had her swear to follow him anywhere. He still looks like he could topple anything that stood in his way. It's reassuring. She'll keep on following him. That has not changed.

Roy's fingertips finally sit lightly on her brow, and he brings the water to her hair. "Temperature okay?" "Yes. Sir." Roy nods again, still incredibly focused, and brings the shower head yet closer, his hand on her head gingerly combing through her hair, letting it get wet. They're both silent. Him, obviously concentrating on his touch, her, hesitating between trying to close her eyes and relax or watching him while he works. She doesn't close her eyes.

#wip #writing #royai

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aestheticvoyage2023 · 1 year

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Day 84: Saturday March 25, 2023 - “Hi-king Boots”

This post contributed by Audrie after a pretty sunset hike in her old backyard, Saguaro National Park, with our boy in his Hiking Boots. What’s even better? This was the first time in almost 9 years Audrie ever said “I want to make today’s post” - Yes Ma’am!!

It was a sunny Saturday, after a cold-spelled-sonoran-springtime week in the Old Pueblo. And with a rare weekend spent at home, all together as a family, William and I lingered in our afternoon, out on the patio, skin drinking in those solar rays, as my son-shinned before me; in his whizzing and whirling around the yard with his dogs, and dace moves, and his dazzling wonderment in his world, warming my heart from the inside out. As a parent, you can never have enough of these moments, watching the child you created in total awe. The innocence, the joy, the candidness in all they do — A tiny human that we grew and is now growing into his own life and ways and wildness— Like a small off stream fed by a mighty river. We were between belly laughs and refereeing the doggie-bit-face-games, when my bright-eyed-dusty-blond-smiling-child sauntered over requesting “diaper off.” I complied, naked potty training time is more safe outside anyway, where the hose is handy, and we can talk about where the dogs potty, and where he should, ultimately someday hopefully soon, potty do his potty business in his potty. With a shirt on his shoulders and nothing from the waist down, he continued his play, in and out of the plastic ice-cream-truck he’s put about 10k foot-miles on (all be it mostly in reverse) over the last few weeks since it joined our most favorite toy line up here at home. Apparently still unsatisfied with the level of nakedness, he jogged back over to me and said “shirt off” and tugged at his shirt. “You wanna be a totally nakey-baby buddy?” and very assuredly he nodded in affirmation and said “Yeshh!” So then there he was stark naked, looking like he was getting away with something big, having apparently even more fun than ever climbing in and out of his ‘Ich Ceam Guckk’ and periodically turning around to snack on his plate of berries and pretzels he had placed on the rear of it. When he tired of this he was ready to up the nakkey-anty-antics, and he shuffled back over and said “bubbles bubbles!” while pointing over to his bubble making machine. “You want bubbles to go now?” “Yeshh!” And as I filled the battery powered bubble producer, he started to spin his gears some more and decided he needed to also be hoisted into his blue porch swing, so he could swing through the bubbles…. naked. This kid. So this is what we did for the next 30 minutes. Until he wanted down and “uh ohhh…..” points at puddle on the patio, “pee pee potty” yeah, oops, mom missed that one, “Its okay buddy, lets wash it off and clean you up.”

We played like this until both my shoulders and all of William’s cheeks were a little more than rosy and reluctantly we went inside and put his clothes back on, where we read books together on the couch until daddy came home from errands and it was time to get ready for a family sunset hike. Dad put on his hiking boots, and William couldn’t help but look enamored, “Boots!” “Yep! Those are Daddy’s Hiking Boots!” and the longing envious look on William’s face sparked the memory of a tiny pair of hiking boots that have sat on the nursery dresser for more than two years… The ones I secretly had a friend purchase when the first pregnancy tests came back with two lines, way back in September of 2020. The smallest pair I could find would be 5 sizes too big for him by the time he was born, but served the trick to surprise and tell my partner that our hiking duo would be a trio soon. And with a drive up the mountain, and some sage, and one of the expensive digital readout pee-sticks, and these tiny boots, up there on that windy point we were able to celebrate with smudging smoke the welcoming intentions we were beginning to hold for this speckle of cells growing inside my belly. Setting our minds around this conception and pulling towards us the coming reality of parenthood, and the definitive divineness of the budding and bloom of life. I had no idea then, that days would look like this now… Plastic Ish Ceam Guchs, and bubbles, naked baby booty scooting and scorching all over my patio; I couldn’t have known the person that was doubling by the moment inside my body, the globule of cells that was unfolding, would eventually unfold to become this sun-shiny-sweet-son-of mine.

I asked William if he would like to wear some hiking boots just like daddy. Of course his answer was a big “Yeshhh!” And soon enough I was finagling his feet into these tiny yellow lace up boots. Although they appeared as they should, I’m not totally confident I ever got his heels completely down into the shoe pad, and he probably had a gap on at least one of them the entire hike even after adjusting them twice. But he wouldn’t have let on, he wore those boots so big and proud “HI-KING-Booots!!!” with a dimple to dimple grin. There would have been no way to know the child that would wear these boots, but if I could have dream-designed him/her, I don’t know that I ever could have come up with the perfection and wildness and wondrous son that stomped proudly up and down the trail today; a trail that lay under a smiling crescent moon, in a sunsetty southwestern sky, surrounded by the outstretched arms of a million saguaros, and the peaks of the same four mountain ranges that raised me. Jake and I take pause a lot to just ooh and awe over his total beauty. Our beautiful boy. Our Boo-Boo. And in moments like these it leads me back to that mountain top day, and all the days since, that were intended and asked for him, in our prayers to the universe, in the sage we’ve burned, in the counts of the heartbeat heard on his sonograms, in the deep first gazes into his gray-blue-baby eyes, in the late afternoons when he sunk into sleep latched to my breast, in the night hours spent reaching out to feel his breath; asking for a kind soul, a loving heart, and someone that wouldn’t play small in this big world. We still don’t fully understand who and how and what all William will be. But for now, as this little stream continues to grow, pick up speed, and pull further from the river, we enjoy these awesome moments spent sharing his splendor. For I know the stream does not exist without the river, but eventually the stream steams far enough ahead and away from the mighty-mother-river that to an onlooker the waters appear different; separate. So I will continue to pour the best of what I have into him, while I still can and while he still remembers he is connected back to me. And all this journey into motherhood reminds me to take pause, and remember my own headwaters, my mother river, and all the mothers and grandmothers before them that poured out their heartiness into those tiny streams that became roaring rivers that fed me, and now feed my son, in his very own hiking boots.

Song: Eric Hutchinson - Everybody’s Gotta Beating Heart

Quote: “I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.” - John O'Donohue

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

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kings of the southside: CHAPTER 2

The storefronts on the block were different now— fragile minimalist displays and organic coffee shops uprooting the aged wooden bar signs with peeling paint and bullet holes— but against all odds, and with everyone else moving on, he and Mickey had decided to stay.

(a canon divergent fic in which ian and mickey stay on the southside and take over the alibi)

read chapter 2 here on ao3, or below the cut! (see notes on ao3 for various credits)

The end of the first weekend of them running the Alibi came quickly, and with it came Mickey’s focus being pulled in a million goddamn directions; they still had to unpack all of their shit upstairs, still had to figure out inventory and restock the bar and balance the books. Between all of the swirling and circling tasks Mickey felt like his head was going to explode, a sharp shift after the smooth waters of doing fuck-all for the past few months before the weed security business took off and he’d been forced to snap back into business mode.

Ian had bounced back from that first Saturday night of running the bar, the slump relaxing and fading out of his shoulders, and he was chipper as ever all Sunday afternoon, constantly grabbing at Mickey’s waist and singing fucking songs in his ear as they brushed elbows while pouring beers beside each other at the bar. As always, Ian fucking sunshine Gallagher’s mood seemed to have some sort of trickle-down effect on Mickey on Sunday, despite Mickey’s best efforts to not be a love-crazed loon. So even though they had a million things to do for Ian’s 80s night bullshit and Mickey had every reason to be stressed, he found himself fucking whistling when he rinsed the dishes behind the bar on Sunday night, and Tommy started giving him shit— and Mickey realized that he didn’t think there was a time he’d remembered whistling, ever, in his goddamn life.

He couldn’t really help it; Ian was radiating this new, breezy energy that Mickey still hadn’t had the time to feel the past few months, with all the bullshit going on with Terry and his family next door that set his teeth on edge— but now Ian was melting into their new life, acting settled, acting like he didn’t have a goddamn care in the world and everything was all figured out. And Mickey started to realize, in the fuzzy back corners of his brain, that maybe, just maybe— he could start to feel that way about their new gig at the Alibi and their new place, too.

They didn’t have to run from anything anymore.

Mickey practically couldn’t believe his ears the other week when Ian had willingly accepted custody of the Alibi with a too-relaxed air of nonchalance, with a well, maybe Mick and I could take it off your hands, on one of their final days scarfing down sugary cereal in the late hours of the morning in the Gallagher house kitchen. There was no way Gallagher was being serious about this— Ian was always talking about going somewhere, about being something bigger than he was, so there was no way he was offering to Kev that they would take over his dump of a bar. Except he definitely was— and for a sharp and splintering instant Mickey was worried Ian was saying this for him; that once again, he was holding Ian Gallagher back.

But Mickey had felt Ian’s warm palm resting on his leg under the kitchen table— and he’d seen the warmth, that fucking warmth that always heated Mickey’s insides, as Ian turned to him with his eyebrows raised in a question, in a wordless proposition— and once again it struck Mickey like a goddamn lightning bolt just how much Ian Gallagher loved him, if he looked this blissed out about the prospect of living in a shitty Southside apartment and running an even shittier bar with Mickey Milkovich for the rest of his days.

Mickey knew part of Ian doing this was for him, after all the Westside bullshit that Mickey had resisted at every turn. Mickey knew he’d lost his shit when he made that yuppie poodle lady rip their lease to shreds, but could anyone blame him? The few hours they’d spent at the apartment complex made Mickey feel like he was going to crawl out of his fucking skin, like the glares of everyone he passed by in the too-clean, air-freshened hallways made him itch from the inside out. There was no fucking way he could stay in a place like that. But he was going to try, if Ian wanted.

But with a simple sentence, with a simple maybe Mick and I could take it off your hands spoken into the dusty kitchen of the Gallagher house, Mickey was saved. This Alibi plan pulled them both above water, gave them both a shore to rest on— and now they were finally, finally on the same fucking page, after figuratively (and literally) butting heads about the future for so long.

So now they were here, and they were doing it, and it was scary as fuck. Mickey had never lived in a place so quiet, a small space so devoid of the press of other people screeching and fighting and leaving trails of clutter, and he knew that Ian hadn’t either; both of their childhood homes were always crawling with various drunks or Russian prostitutes or batshit crazy relatives, and the silence of their too-small studio, in the morning hours before the bar was opened downstairs, was deafening.

Mickey could feel his jaw start to clench as he laid twisted in the sheets on Monday morning, when Ian had gone for a run and Mickey was left in the apartment alone for an hour and it was quiet, too quiet— but instantly the boisterous noise of the Southside streets had started to flow just outside the open window, a cacophony of honking horns and shouted slurs and gunshots, and the trickling in of the sounds tickled Mickey’s scalp, and reminded him that he was still rooted— he was still home.

And then Ian came clomping up the stairs like a sweaty monster after his run and tackled Mickey into the mattress, flopping onto him like a fucking Saint Bernard—and Mickey remembered why they did this, why this was good for both of them.

Against every single one of Mickey’s instincts, against everything he’d always known— he was going to let himself have this.

Ian’s brows were furrowed, a pressed series of creases narrowed in focus, as he stared at the paint swatches with a too-sharp glare.

“Mick, I really don’t see the fucking difference between Charcoal Gray and Burnt Ember.”

Mickey huffed, snatching the series of paint swatches out of his hand. “Nevermind then. You’ve got no eye for this shit, Gallagher. Charcoal Gray has cool undertones, Burnt Ember has a warmer vibe. We’ve definitely gotta go with Burnt Ember, the lighting in this place is shit and I wanna make sure the kitchen has a good ambiance.”

Ian’s lips curved into a smile of disbelief, rolling his eyes. Annoying motherfucker. “They both look like gray to me.”

Mickey flashed a grin in reply, then swatted Ian’s chest with the remaining paint swatches he was holding. “It’s a good thing you’re good at manual labor. If we wanna have this place painted by Wednesday, we’ve gotta get moving.”

“On it. Lip’s coming by with the paint for the main room and the wallpaper stuff, too.”

And just then, there was a gentle tap at the door. “Ey, it’s me and Liam.”

Ian bounded across the room to pull the paint-chipped door open. “Speak of the devil.”

Lip strode into their shithole apartment carrying cans of paint and a wrench clenched between his fingers, Liam trailing behind him.

“Damn. It’s only been two days and I already forgot what a dump this place is.”

Ian shoved Lip’s shoulder. “Fuck you. If you can renovate our shitty house, fixing this place up should be a piece of cake.”

Mickey noticed Liam scanning the room— in a fit of annoyance the other morning, with the bright fucking sun streaming in because they hadn’t gotten curtains yet with the bar pulling focus downstairs, Mickey had sliced a black trashbag and pinned it to the window as a makeshift curtain. Liam’s eyes lingered on the hanging trashbag, and he raised a judgmental eyebrow at Mickey.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.”

Ian chuckled. “Yeah, Mick’s a real interior designer.”

Liam just sighed. “You guys need all the help you can get.”

Mickey’s brows furrowed. “Fuck you both. That was a temporary solution.” He walked over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of beer, just so he had something to do.

Ian grinned again, then reached out to ruffle Liam’s hair. “How’s the new place, superstar?”

Liam shrugged nonchalantly. “I like it. I just hung up all of my posters. Added a bit of vibrancy to the color palette that Tami chose to paint my room.”

Ian smirked, and nodded a head towards Mickey, who was standing by the fridge and fumbling with his beer bottle. “You should talk to Mickey about color palettes—we’ve been arguing for the last half hour about what shade of gray to paint the kitchen. Something about cool and warm undertones?”

Liam turned to examine the kitchenette in the back of the studio, hand on his hips. “Definitely warm undertones in a small space like this, unless you get some updated light fixtures.

Ian grinned. “Damn. Guess I really do have two interior designers in my family.”

Liam smiled back, his eyes lighting up. “You need any other advice? Mickey, I’d love to hear what unified aesthetic you’re aiming for with the décor.”

The rest of the afternoon was filled with the rhythm of smooth paint rollers sliding against the wall, the old radio in the corner of the room (that had probably been there for decades) turned to a low hum— Liam and Lip helped them shuffle through their belongings in the trash bags, moving the mattress to the center of the room and not even bothering to cover the already-stained hardwood floors with a drop cloth before they coated the studio’s walls in thick layers of paint.

Mickey and Liam were tackling the kitchen, priming the walls in a comfortable silence. Frank’s death had hit Liam pretty hard, and Mickey could only imagine how fucked up it was, to have all the heaviness and all those complicated clumps of emotion that came with Terry dying inside you when you were only a kid— losing a shitty father was almost harder than losing a good one.

But Liam seemed enthusiastic about helping with the renovation efforts— he covered the walls dutifully in multiple coats of primer, ran to the corner store to pick up canned pints of “Burnt Ember,” and even offered Mickey advice on various wallpaper swatches for a feature wall in the studio (which Mickey actually appreciated, because he was still learning all this shit and fuck if he knew what a “feature wall” was or how to make it look good). Liam also gave his review of the various pieces of furniture Mickey had circled in an Ikea catalogue with a black Sharpie. Mickey was flipping through the catalogue, Liam methodically painting a final coat of paint in the kitchen beside him in a comfortable silence, when Mickey tuned in to Lip and Ian’s conversation from where they were painting in the main room.

“So, you guys are really doing this shit, huh? Running the Alibi?”

Ian paused, presumably taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Don’t know, man. The neighborhood’s changing. My bet is the crowds’ll get thinner and thinner.” Lip paused, ripping a paper towel to wipe his hands. “You sure that you and Mick have thought this through?”

Mickey tried to hold back an audible scoff from the kitchen. There were a number of things he could’ve yelled from the other room— for starters, when in the last 12 months had fucking Phillip Gallagher thought anything through— but he decided to hold his tongue, listening for Ian’s reply.

“Jesus, Lip. Yes. We’re already living in the place, not gonna give it up now.”

A pause.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.”

Mickey could hear Lip twisting open the soda can he’d been drinking from.

“I don’t know, man. It’s my job to care about this shit, isn’t it? I thought Fiona taking over the laundromat was a bad idea, and she still did it anyways.”

Ian gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah.”

The soft tempo of the paint rollers on the wall continued.

“You sure this is what you wanna do with your life?”

Mickey felt that twist in his stomach again— the ice cold one, the feeling of fear that always sunk into his bones in moments like this, when he knew other people saw what he saw: that Ian Gallagher was far, far too good for him, and that all Mickey doing was ensnaring him in the dirty streets of the Southside and holding him back, when everyone else was moving on with their lives into gentrified apartment complexes.

But he’d heard the smile in Ian’s voice as he replied.

“Absolutely.”

Finally, after a long fucking day, Lip and Liam had left the creaky apartment— the place was looking pretty good, the kitchen and the main room both painted, and Lip had even been able to do a bit of work on the plumbing and fixed the leaky sputter of the upstairs bathroom faucet (he had also tried to convince Ian to install some sort of fucking backsplash thing in the kitchen, a multi-day project that they’d both resisted). Now, with Lip and Liam out the door, he and Ian were ready to crash. Mickey strode across the room and opened all the windows as wide as they could possibly go, trying to dispel all the paint fumes and let in gusts of humid summer air so they could collapse on the mattress. They probably could’ve crashed at one of the other Gallaghers’ places for the night if they felt suffocated by the fumes— but for now the light evening breeze was quickly drying the paint, circulating the almost-too-small room.

Across the room Ian flopped onto the mattress, a ridiculous streak of gray paint smeared across his forehead. Mickey smirked, and crawled into bed next to him, sitting so his legs were pressed against Ian’s upper torso.

“I can’t wait to get a fucking bedframe,” Ian breathed out—his face buried in the pillow, his eyelids drooping. “And a new mattress. Not this shitty one with stains all over it.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey smirked, reaching a hand over to card through Ian’s hair.

“Mm.” Ian hummed happily in reply as he kept his eyes closed, probably starting to drift off to sleep.

While was probably a horrible idea— at the very least, Ian should change out of his paint-streaked clothes and wash his fucking face. There were flecks of paint all over his face and in his hair, mingling and dried in his copper curls, from when he and Mickey had gotten into a moderate paint-splattering war like a couple of teenage boys when they were trying to paint the living room walls later in the day. He prodded Ian in his side, who was now laying curled beside him with a dreamy fucking smile on his face.

“Hey. Mumbles. Get the fuck up. You’re gonna fall asleep with that toxic shit all over your face.”

Ian yawned, his nose crinkling. “Don’t care,” he said into the pillow.

“C’mon, Ian.”

And all at once Ian’s eyes were open, and he was crawling his way on top of Mickey, boxing him in with his arms on both sides of Mickey’s head. Mickey felt a gust of air whoosh out of his lungs in surprise—and in an instant he was reminded of when they used to live at the Milkovich house, in his shitty bedroom with far too many bad memories for Ian’s presence to completely tip the scale and outweigh them with the good ones, when Ian would be laying sleepy beside him and they’d get into little wrestling matches and tussles like this, with grips of hair and breathed out “C’mere, army!”s. There was the same energy buzzing between them in this moment—but god, they were so fucking different than they’d been then. They were fuller, more solid; Ian was measured in a way that still made Mickey’s toes curl when he looked at him and compared him to the scrawny and glassy-eyed teenager that he’d been, to the hollow frame he’d been on the worst days when Mickey placed a hand on a too-cold ribcage curled under thin blankets and run a hand through his hair and whispered “please,” trying to will the light back into Ian’s eyes.

But that light was there all the goddamn time now— and it was there right now as Ian dipped down and kissed at Mickey’s neck, Mickey breathing out as a no-longer-sleepy Ian made his way downward.

He guessed Ian could probably just shower all the dried paint out of his hair tomorrow morning.

Tuesday was a blur of getting ready for Ian’s idea to host fucking 80s night, and getting ready for Franny to stay— Mickey had thought the extent of Ian’s plan for this party thing was going to just be playing some tunes and charging a little extra for beers, but apparently Ian wanted to go all out. He’d had Debbie make some sort of poster with a colorful font and stapled them all over random bulletin boards and telephone poles on the Southside, and posted a bunch of shit on her Instagram (which had a weirdly large following because of her whole “hot handywoman” thing, which was still a complete fucking mystery to Mickey). Mickey wasn’t sure that Ian’s plan of throwing a party at their random Southside bar on a Friday night was going to fix all of their financial problems— but hey, if they needed cash then they needed cash. And while Mickey’s preferred way of procuring cash was heading down to the local corner store with a gun stowed at his waistband, for once in his life he was trying to do this shit right. So maybe his goody-two-shoes husband was making him soft (he definitely, definitely fucking was)— but when his jackass ginger giant of a husband looked at him with fucking puppy dog eyes and asked him to go along with this plan, instead of Mickey’s not-quite-joking suggestions that they just rob the bodega two doors over instead to fix all of the Alibi’s money problems, there really wasn’t much that Mickey could do about it.

He and Ian were wiping the bar, Mickey mentally running through the list of shit they had to order to prep for Friday’s crowd, when their phone screens both illuminated with text messages on the bartop.

Debbie (2:34 PM): everyone make sure to post the 80s night flyer on ur socials!!!!

Lip (2:34 PM): What the fuck are socials

Debbie (2:35 PM): 🙄

Debbie (2:35 PM): u aren’t an old man, phillip. instagram, twitter, even facebook for dinosaurs like u🦖

Liam (2:35 PM): 👍👍 Already posted.

Liam (2:36 PM): But I don’t know how useful advertising to a bunch of 11 year olds will be…

Carl (2:36 PM): me and a bunch of the boys r gonna roll through- get ready to rage motherfuckers!!!

Ian (2:37 PM): ❤️❤️

Ian (2:37 PM): Thanks for all your help Debs

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Sappy motherfucker.”

He decided to reply to the groupchat in the way that he knew best:

Mickey (2:37 PM): 🖕

Mickey remembered the first day that he’d been initiated into the Gallagher family group chat, nearly a week after returning from their “honeymoon” in the dingy motel that smelled like mildew and cigarette smoke— he and Ian had been back at the Gallagher house for about a week, sleeping in most long lazy mornings and getting up to… various activities. It was one of those lazy mornings in bed when Ian had gotten decidedly distracted from said activities by the series of notifications that were lighting up Mickey’s phone on the nightstand from the groupchat Gallagher Fam:

Debbie (11:34 AM): the jonas brothers are playing upstairs. everybody take cover

Lip (11:34 AM): Thank god I don’t live there anymore

Debbie (11:35 AM): also welcome to the group chat mickey xoxo

Liam (11:35 AM): Noise-cancelling headphones are on. An excellent investment

Carl (11:35 AM): i’m just seeking shelter & keeping it real in the basement 😎

Mickey had never been part of a fucking family group chat before—he’d barely been involved in any group chats, since the extent of his smartphone use before prison was nonexistent, and he’d relied on burner phones to do all of Terry’s shady bidding after he got out of jail up until the wedding. He’d used some of their wedding cash to get himself an iPhone—even though he barely fucking knew how to use it half the time, except for shitty multiplayer games he and Ian liked to mess around with— but he’d barely had an excuse to text anyone except Sandy about various wedding logistics, and obviously Ian.

But now he was crashing with Ian’s family, and he and Ian were fucking married, and he was a part of this shit for real— it was group chat official. Which strangely felt all the more real, even though Mickey already had a fucking ring on his finger. And he’d never tell a fucking soul, not even Ian, but it made something warm pool in his stomach— to have siblings to fucking banter with about who ate the last of the potato chips, or who could pick Franny up from school, or whining about whoever was making too much noise, in the same ways he and Mandy and his brother used to get on each other’s fucking nerves.

Ian smiled down at his phone at Mickey’s reply to Debbie’s nudge about the posters. “Excellent contribution. Thanks for showing Debs how grateful you are.”

Mickey brought his emoji to life and flipped Ian off. “You’re welcome.”

Ian bit at his thumbnail, looking down at his phone. “Debbie says she can get us a karaoke machine for Friday. That might be kind of fun, right?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Whatever you think, man. It’s your idea.”

Ian started tapping away at his phone, and Mickey turned back to tidying the bar, the rows and columns of those fucking black binders from the Alibi’s storeroom still lingering in the murky corners of his mind. He didn’t want to blow too much money on this shit— he had no idea how much a karaoke machine costed, but it probably wasn’t cheap. Why the fuck couldn’t they just steal one? Mickey gritted his teeth. He could crunch numbers any day, could make enough bank to stay afloat— but something about this, about running a fully legit business, was making him start to feel like he was being pulled underwater.

Mickey stayed tense the rest of the day, feeling like a bundle of fucking nerves without really knowing why— there was just so much going on, between moving and painting and Ian’s nervous excitement at planning this event bullshit. They’d both stumbled through the slow day at the bar, and now were collapsed in bed for the evening; Mickey was scrolling through various furniture store websites, weighing their options, while Ian was curled next to him, talking about something in a low voice that Mickey wasn’t really paying attention to.

“Sorry, what?”

Ian breathed out and smirked. “Nevermind. You weren’t listening.”

Mickey scrubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry, man. Just distracted.”

“Why’re you distracted?”

“Just thinking about all this shit. Furniture shopping, unpacking, whatever.”

Ian smiled. “Yeah? We can probably just pick stuff out when we go in person, we don’t have to overthink it.”

Mickey blew out a breath. “Yeah. Guess so.” He stretched his arms over his head— when the fuck did his shoulders get so tight?

“You ready for bed?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab the light.”

Mickey stood to pull the string for the bare lightbulb hanging directly above them, then thudded onto his stomach on the mattress. Immediately he heard Ian rustling under the sheets, moving closer to him, and eventually lifting on his arms to hover over Mickey’s back.

“The fuck’re you doing?”

“Relax, Mick. Just take a deep breath. Lemme take care of you.”

Mickey blew a breath out of his mouth into the pillow. “Not in the mood right now, Ian. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Not like that— just lemme make your shoulders hurt less, at least.”

Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath on the back of his neck as Ian settled, sitting back on Mickey’s upper thighs and leaning over him. He ran his hands along Mickey’s upper shoulders, delicately rubbing his thumbs up and down near his spine and trying to work at the permanent knots there.

“R’you giving me a fucking massage?” Mickey mumbled the words into the pillow, letting his eyelids droop. It did feel pretty fucking good, if he was being honest—the tension was draining from where he’d been holding it in his shoulders all week long, absorbing the impact of all the changes swirling around them and trying to keep them both afloat.

“Mm.” Ian hummed in reply, working his hands down to Mickey’s lower back and digging his thumbs in right where there were bundles of dull pain. Mickey almost flinched—not because it hurt, really, but because Ian’s fingertips gliding across his skin felt so fucking good.

He remembered the first 17 years of his life, the years when he’d been touch-starved without even realizing it, when the only touches his nerve-endings knew were high-impact beat downs and fists connecting with his jawbone. Milkoviches didn’t fucking hug, aside from a casual slap on the shoulder or side-hug when one of them was released from juvie—and even after he and Ian got together it took fucking forever to know what being held, what being gently touched, felt like. Those first few times when Ian had dragged his fingers over Mickey’s hipbones when they were fucking made Mickey nearly shudder, his nerve endings sparking like goddamn fireworks; and he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. It was like his body was going on alert, like there was an invader breaching and he was always used to bracing for impact; but despite himself, all Mickey wanted was more— all he wanted was to press his cheek to Gallagher’s fucking jawbone and just keep it there and breathe in the scent of him, absorbing the warmth of his skin.

He still wasn’t totally used to this shit, the luxury of a warm body next to his after those years in a narrow prison cot, and on the run— but as he drifted off to sleep, his shoulders now unclenched and Ian’s warm, sturdy limbs circled around him, he thanked god, if god even did fucking exist anyways, that living in the shitty apartment over the Alibi was where he ended up in his life right now, with Ian by his side.

The next evening, just as the sun was setting pink outside the windows and Mickey was finishing up organizing everything behind the bar, Debbie towed Franny into the main room of the Alibi, wearing some sort of pink frilly shirt and carrying a kid-sized backpack with her pajamas and toothbrush inside.

“Thanks for watching Franny tonight, you guys are the best!” Debbie had barely set foot in the door before she was out it again and letting it swing shut behind her. Seconds later, Mickey could hear the distinct roaring of a too-expensive car engine coming from the street outside the bar.

Ian peered out the front window to inspected Heidi’s ride. “Jesus. It’s some sort of Ferrari convertible.” He scooped up Franny’s backpack from the floor, slinging the comically small bag onto his broad shoulders as he crouched to give Franny a hug. “Hey Fran, it’s so good to see you!”

“I missed you, Uncle Ian!” Franny enthusiastically squeezed Ian back.

Ian pressed a peck to the top of her head. “Missed you too. We’ve gotta have a talk with your mommy when she gets back about child road safety. That Ferrari was noticeably lacking a car seat.”

“Uncle Mickey!!!” Franny nearly squealed as she spotted Mickey behind the bar, running up and trying to jump up onto a stool so she could reach him. Ian laughed and lifted Franny so she was perched on a stool, her legs dangling as she reached forward. Mickey reached out an arm to fist-bump Franny, the best he could do with the bartop between them.

“Hey there, Little Red. Missed ya.”

Franny immediately looked Mickey up and down, like she was assessing if he’d changed at all since she last saw him. Her brows furrowed—then finally she spoke.

“Uncle Mickey, I have a question.”

Mickey reached across the bar to ruffle her hair. “What’s up, kid?”

She paused. “Can I rip the sleeves off my shirt too, like you?”

Mickey chuckled in surprise. He was wearing one of his flannel tank-tops with the arms ripped off—a white trash summer look in every way. “Let’s see what we can do. I think Uncle Ian’s got some old shirts packed upstairs that we can mess around with.”

Luckily, the bar was totally empty for the evening, aside from their three or four regulars— so Ian and Franny got to go upstairs and play dress-up while Mickey dealt with shit at the bar for an hour or so, deciding they’d close early so they could pay attention to Franny.

“Hey, Mick! We’ve got a surprise for you.” Ian’s voice wafted down from the back stairway that led up to the apartment.

“What’s up?”

“One sec. Stay downstairs.” Mickey could hear two sets of pattering footsteps coming down the staircase—and Franny dashed into the room, wearing a very baggy white tank top that reached her knees and an oversized flannel with the sleeves ripped off, an exact replica of Mickey’s outfit.

“Look, Uncle Mickey! I have an outfit like you! Now we can play liquor store robbery.” She looked at him seriously—then her face contorted, her brows furrowed and her lip sticking out in a face that Ian had taken to calling the “Milkovich scowl,” a trait that Franny had adopted in her many hours of playing “robbers” in the backyard with Mickey with her fake guns he’d gotten her for her birthday.

“Gimme all of your money!”

Mickey chuckled, and threw his hands up in surrender. “You got me, Wonder Woman.”

Ian walked towards the bar, lifting Franny up so she was perched on the countertop. “You like Franny’s new look? She was pretty insistent about wearing the tank top too.”

But Franny was still peering over at Mickey, like something had caught her eye.

“Uncle Mickey, can I have drawings on my fingers too? Like you? All the real robbers on TV have those.”

This time it was Ian who was laughing. “Oh my god. Debbie’s gonna kill us. If Franny gets knuckle tattoos by the time she’s seventeen, I’m blaming you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Ain’t nothing wrong with family tradition. Fuck you.”

Ian tapped his fingers on the counter. “Wait, I have an idea. Franny, wait here.” Ian rushed upstairs, and came back down holding the black Sharpie that had Mickey had been using to circle pictures in the Ikea catalogue.

“Here, hold out your hand Fran.”

Franny held out her hand for Ian to hold—and he started to draw blocky letters between each of her knuckles. When he finished, he held Franny’s hand up for Mickey to see the doodled serifs, smiling sheepishly.

“L T T L R E D ♡”

Mickey grinned. “Now you’re a real robber, Rockstar.” Franny looked at her hands and smiled contentedly, running her thumb over the letters.

“L. T. T. L. I know all these letters. They’re different from Uncle Mickey’s. Mommy said his say ‘fuck.’”

Ian snorted. “Yeah, you get your own special letters Franny. They say ‘little red.’”

Franny beamed. “That’s what Uncle Mickey calls me!”

“You got it, kiddo.”

The rest of the afternoon involved many rounds of playing “liquor store robbery,” and Ian lifting up Franny to “help” behind the bar by pulling the lever of the beer tap— and by the early evening, when even fucking Kermit and Tommy had gone, Ian had the idea to make a fort out of the leftover empty inventory boxes, and Franny had repeatedly busted through the tower of boxes and shouted “Put your hands in the air!” as she pretended to blow up fictional liquor store walls.

Now it was late and they were all upstairs—Franny had crashed after dinnertime, after bouncing on the bed with a sugar high from the Poptarts Mickey had snuck her after dinner (to supplement some bullshit pasta thing that Ian had forced Mickey to feed her, even though he never remembered wanting to eat that shit when he was five— he practically lived on Honey Buns and pork rinds from the nearby gas station).

They still didn’t have furniture, and at one point they’d perched on the mattress so Mickey could show Franny videos of monster trucks on his phone— and now Franny was totally passed out against Mickey’s chest, breathing those raspy, loud breaths kids make when they’re deeply asleep.

Ian came in the room from the semi-divided wall of the kitchen, wiping his hands after finishing rinsing the dishes (two plates, and a bowl that Franny ate from because they’d only swiped two of everything from the Gallagher house last week); and Mickey saw Ian’s lips curve upward in a knowing smile as he noticed Franny curled in the bedsheets, half-leaning on Mickey’s chest. Franny and Mickey were smack in the middle of the mattress, taking up most of the room; but Ian crouched to sit on the edge of the mattress beside Mickey, hooking his chin on Mickey’s shoulder casually as he peered over at Franny, still wearing her oversized flannel and smudged knuckle tattoos.

“Guess our babysitting duties are over.” He breathed out, trying not to unsettle Franny’s steady breathing. “Hope we didn’t corrupt her too much.”

Mickey scoffed. “Debbie’s dating someone who’s more of a fuck-up than we’ll ever be. Don’t think the ball’s really in our court on that one.”

“Fair.”

Franny scrunched her nose in her sleep, sighing out heavily before nestling deeper into the bedsheets.

“I kinda missed her, man.”

Mickey was surprised by the words as he heard them coming out of his mouth— they were true, but he hadn’t even voiced them to himself until now. As shitty as he’d always been with kids, he had to admit that goofing around with Franny was pretty fucking fun.

Ian smiled from where his mouth was pressed against Mickey’s shoulder. “Yeah. Me too.”

There was a silence, the room filled with the soft sound of Franny’s steady breathing. And then:

“Maybe… we’ll have a kid of our own sometime.”

Immediately, Mickey felt his gut lurch. It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked about this shit—they definitely had, in the abstract moments before the wedding; before everything blew up in their face and the pandemic took hold and any thought of kids was pushed way, way to the sidelines. And it wasn’t like Mickey was avoiding the topic— but he wasn’t exactly bringing it up, either, and neither was Ian.

Mickey thought back to that moment before the wedding, back to the hushed “you want kids?” Ian had placed between them— and how in that moment Mickey had known how much Ian wanted kids, how much Ian constantly cared for other people, how his voice got all soft and mushy around the edges in the vicinity of a baby. He knew how much Ian wanted this— but even broaching the topic made Mickey’s muscles start to clench.

Mickey tried to keep his cool—even though he felt the tides starting to roll inside of him, threatening to pull him under.

“I’d be a shitty dad, man.”

Ian’s head pulled away from where it had been nestled against the crook of Mickey’s neck—and Mickey turned his head to meet Ian’s piercing gaze.

“No you wouldn’t.” Ian’s voice was soft, surprised.

Mickey swallowed. “What if I like. Beat it. Or—” he cut himself off, knowing his voice was starting to waver.

Ian’s voice was firm when he replied. “You won’t. You’re great with Franny.” Ian paused.” “You were great with Yev.”

And there it was—the other fucking elephant in the room, beside all of Mickey’s other daddy issues; the fact that Mickey already was a father, was forced to be a father against his own will, giving him some sort of complex that he didn’t even have the energy to dig into about the potential of scooping up some kid to raise with Ian…. when there was already one out there with his gene pool that he didn’t want, that he couldn’t want, whose existence was forced onto him at gunpoint and who he didn’t have the strength to take care of.

Mickey felt Ian’s hand, feather light, tracing down his side— pulling him out of the current of his internal monologue. Ian’s hand hooked around his hip; a touch to root him, giving Mickey solid ground to hold on to.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“You’re gonna be a great dad.”

Mickey swallowed down the lump in his throat—and with it he tried to swallow down whatever bullshit was holding him back from letting himself have this. He thought about Ian—despite all his own reservations, he knew Ian must be having the same type of feelings about all of this shit; Ian was the one who had stolen Yev, who had worked so hard to get himself to the person he was today—a stable place where he was allowed to dream about being a parent, allowed to dream about shit like this.

“I hate this.”

Mickey didn’t really know what he was referring to in particular as he said the words—he hated all of this, he hated the churning emotions inside him. He felt so fucking uncomfortable—but that was always the first thing he felt, wasn’t it, when there was something deeper inside? It was the first thing he’d felt when he started to fall for Ian, when he started to realize he much preferred scrawny redheads to the busty figures with long hair; the pushing and heaving of no no no from somewhere in his ribcage, because he knew how much letting himself have this was going to hurt, how much shit he was going to have to wade through.

But he’d fucking done it—and look where he was now: Ian curled against his back, their fucking niece sound asleep beside him.

“Hey.” Ian’s voice was soft, nearly tickling Mickey’s ears. “There’s no rush for any of this shit. I’m just talking about… big picture. Eventually. When we’ve got all our shit settled.”

There it was again—that word, the one Ian had been saying all the time lately, the one that had been radiating out of his pores. Settled.

Mickey clearing his throat, trying to dispel the huskiness he knew would be there when he spoke. “Yeah. Maybe someday.”

He looked down at his hands. He knew that saying that wasn’t enough— Ian had to know how much he meant it.

“I— I wanna give you that shit. Someday.”

Mickey knew that was still an inadequate expression of everything he was feeling, of how much he wished he could just race carefreely into making fucking forts and playing dress-up with a kid of their own; but he also knew that for tonight, Ian understood. He knew in the way Ian pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw, and said into the silence of the room:

“You’re so fucking good at taking care of people, Mick.”

Mickey let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. They were going to do this—someday.

“You know… now that we’ve got our own place.” Ian’s voice trailed off.

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Well— we could be good millennials and start with a dog. Y’know, as a practice run. Get your fucking Milkovich pit bulls or whatever.”

Mickey instantly felt whatever remaining tense energy that had been clinging to him dissipate. He felt a grin creep onto his face. “Hell yeah. I’m in.”

Ian pecked his shoulder. “Cool. We can check out shelters sometime next week.”

Mickey shook his head, still smiling in relief. “A pit bull, I can handle. We’re gonna treat her like a fucking princess. Who needs kids anyways?”

Ian smiled back. “The first step in starting our own Southside family.”

Mickey’s insides instantly got warm and gushy at the words— and again, it was that mix of no no no and you don’t deserve this alongside something deeper, something more solid. He tried to do what Ian always told him to do, in the moments that he felt like this: he forced a breath in, forced himself to expand his ribcage. He forced himself to think:

You deserve this.

The next day had been uneventful, other than Franny’s tearful goodbye— and now it was the early afternoon on Friday, far too early for any sort of rush. Once again only Tommy and fucking Kermit were seated at the bar, but today he and Ian were barely paying attention to them, despite Tommy’s halfhearted attempts to drag Mickey into some sort of bullshit banter (as much as Tommy said he preferred silence at the bar, everyone knew that was a lie. Why the fuck else would be have been coming here every day for the last eleven years?).

Today, Ian had dragged a chalkboard out from the clutter of the dingy back closet of the Alibi, a sandwich board meant to be placed on the curb to promote the bar that looked like it had hardly been used. Ian continued to shuffle through the various boxes in the back room, making a shit ton of noise, until he finally found whatever else he’d been looking for.

“Aha!”

He held up a bent cardboard box of multicolor sidewalk chalk— half empty, and half broken, but it would get the job done.

He strode over to the bar, laying the chalkboard on it— then turned to Mickey, folding his arms in front of him.

“Alright, bartender extraordinaire. What drinks should we make for 80s night?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, puffing out a breath. “I don’t fucking know. Most of the guys who come in on Fridays just drink beer. We don’t gotta overcomplicate shit.”

Ian pressed his lips together, contemplative and looking down at the blank canvas of the chalkboard. “I’m not saying we should force out the regulars, because that’s definitely not what we’re going for with the event— but it’d be nice to have a couple of new things, in case the new people in the neighborhood do some by. Nothing too fancy or frilly or whatever.”

Ian dug in the cardboard box, plucking out a piece of chalk.

“And we should make our own signature drinks anyways, since we’re taking over the place. Make our mark on the Alibi.” He grinned. “Got any fun drink name ideas?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, and felt the corners of his lips turn upwards in an amused smile against his will, thawing. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Ian continued smiling. “How about… the Milkovich Mojito.”

Mickey puffed out a breath of air, shoving Ian in the chest and furrowing his brows. “No fucking way.”

Ian just waggled his eyebrows. “C’mon, we own the place. It’ll just be a mojito with a shit ton of rum, only enough for someone with Milkovich-level tolerance. People will think it’s funny.”

Mickey felt his eyebrows lift upwards a bit, and he could see from the expression on Ian’s face that he’d lost this one. “Fine.”

Ian smirked, penciling in “Milkovich Mojito” on the chalkboard and drawing a little design around it. Mickey forgot how good Ian was at this— at the little details like this, at making shit look nice.

Ian rose from where he was hunched over the chalkboard when his masterpiece was completed, hands on his hips. “Alright. What else?”

Mickey shrugged. “I don’t know. How about ‘just fucking beer’?”

Ian laughed, and a warm feeling pooled in Mickey’s stomach despite himself. “Yeah. We should spell that out on the menu, so people know that’s our standard.” He leaned to write “JUST FUCKING BEER” on the chalkboard, drawing a little cartoon beer stein with foam on the top next to it. Mickey reached out, smudging a bit of the chalk of the drawing to annoy Ian, just because he could.

Ian swatted his arm away. “Hey! No touching the masterpiece.” He drew over the part Mickey smudged as best he could, biting his lip in concentration. Fuckin’ dork.

Ian stood tall again, admiring the finished product. “There. One more?”

Mickey shrugged again, feeling utterly out of ideas. He could balance a budget, sure, but he was useless with all the creative shit like this.

Ian bit his lip again, thinking. “What’re even mixed drinks people like? Sex on the beach?”

Mickey smirked. “There ain’t a lot of beaches in Chicago, man.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess it’s more like ‘sex behind a dumpster.’ Or ‘sex on your twin bed at your family’s house.’”

Mickey grinned, catching Ian’s drift. “Sex in the dugouts.”

Ian laughed, then made a little gesture with his hands like inspiration had struck. “Mick, I think we have our final drink name.” He turned to write it on the chalkboard.

“What the fuck are we gonna put in it? Just a fuckin’ lukewarm beer?”

Ian smirked, looking off dreamily. “Ah, memories.”

Mickey prodded him in the sternum. “You’re a fucking sap.” He shoved Ian over. “Here, let me write this one.” He took the chalk from Ian’s hand. “No peeking.”

He scratched on the chalkboard for a moment, then stood back to reveal his work. “Ta-da.”

In scratchy handwriting, not unlike the “STAY THE FUCK OUT” sign that used to be taped to his door, read “SEX IN THE DUGOUTS”—and next to it was two drawings, of a cartoon dick and two stick figures fucking doggy-style.

Ian grinned wide. “It’s perfect. Definitely captures the vibe of the new owners.”

Mickey just smiled back.

It was 6 p.m. now, and the bar was just about ready—Ian had compulsively swept the floor during the lull in the afternoon, even though it would be dirtied and scuffed within seconds of the usual Friday blue-collar crowd streaming in through the doors, and Mickey was perched on a stool at the end of the bar, laboring over his playlist. He usually didn’t overthink this shit— he’d included all the classics, from Bon Jovi to Queen to fucking Cyndi Lauper, but there was something so public about he and Ian running this thing now, and about throwing a loud event to proclaim it, that make Mickey’s stomach start to do somersaults for some reason as the first huddled crowd of Southsiders shuffled their way in through the door.

The bar did look good— Ian had got some sort of lighting gels to put over the lamps in the Alibi, and the room’s lighting was tinted a suave blue color, making the small space feel a little hipper, a little cooler, while still retaining its comforting dingy feel. It almost reminded Mickey of the soft, colorful lighting in that random Westside bar they’d gotten engaged in, with the shitty overpriced beer and the sparkly fucking lights when they’d watched that god-awful harp band with Barry or whatever the fuck his name was— but the lighting here looked cooler, more deliberate, and cast a calculated glow across the room that added to the vibe. The bass was thrumming low through the speakers Ian had rented from somewhere— right now it was just playing some mellow Joy Division song as people continued streaming into the bar.

Ian had crept upstairs at some point, probably to change out of whatever sweaty t-shirt he’d been wearing all day; and Mickey saw a flash of red hair emerging from the stairway now, turning the corner to stride into the dark room.

“Hey! Oh my god, it’s great to see you guys!”

Immediately Ian was swept away by some group of people in their mid-twenties near the swinging door that led to the back of the bar, who were chattering away about how they’d seen the poster on Debbie’s Instagram or some shit. Mickey assumed they were some people Ian had known when he’d been locked up, one of the unfamiliar faces from their wedding that got involved with Ian’s “Gay Jesus” bullshit—and as much as Mickey knew Ian’s relationship with those figures from a very different time in his life was complicated to say the least, it was nice to see Ian leaning comfortably against the bar, chatting away with someone that wasn’t him or Lip— chatting with friends. Looking settled.

Mickey smirked, knowing his gaze was lingering for too long when Ian locked eyes with him from across the bar, tilting his head towards the stairway. Giving Mickey a chance to go upstairs, to freshen up, to take a deep breath if he wanted to.

Fuck it. Mickey strode across the bar, heading upstairs to the quiet sanctuary of the studio and its fresh-painted walls. He shuffled through the various shirts and baggy jeans that were now in their designated-clothes-pile in the corner of the room, at least until they got a dresser and hangers and all that shit. He decided to peel off his sweaty tank top and change into a blue Hawaiian-print shirt, the one he’d swiped from the laundry room at the yuppie fucking Westside apartment complex before he’d burned that bridge, to amp himself up and fit the vibe downstairs. The shirt was only a little bit creased from being shoved in a pile in the corner of the room, which felt like a bonus— and Mickey smoothed a hand through his hair and fixed the collar of the shirt as he caught his own eye in the cracked bathroom mirror. There weren’t lots of times Mickey really gave a shit about what he wore—he and Ian pretty much lived in tank tops and boxers at home, and tank tops and denim at the bar especially on hot fucking days like these ones— but he had to admit that it did feel pretty nice to put on a shirt with a collar, a shirt with bright colors and patterns on it that, fuck it, he knew made his eyes pop—just because he wanted to have fun, just because he could.

He ruffled his hair one last time, then clomped back down the back staircase towards the light chatter swirling in the room below. Immediately he noticed the line at the bar starting to grow, and walked with intention over to behind the bar to start taking orders from a mixed sea of regulars and younger, new faces.

“Looking pretty festive there, Mick.”

Mickey held up a middle finger to where Tommy was seated on his usual stool. “Fuck you. I look hot and you know it.”

“You definitely do.” Ian slid behind him, speaking low into Mickey’s ear and his hands gliding to bracket Mickey’s waist for a moment as he shuffled by to pass a beer to a customer, then walked to the end of the bar and start to take more orders without a glance back. Mickey felt his neck flush red, just for a second— Ian was always just saying shit like that, about how good Mickey was, whenever he looked nice. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

After a few hours the party was fully humming, and both he and Ian could barely glance up from the bar because of how many people were streaming through and placing their orders. Courtesy of Debbie, a karaoke machine was up and running in the corner of the room, the speakers blasting a series of poppy instrumentals across the small space—and as much as Mickey hated to admit it, he had to say that this event bullshit was actually a pretty fucking good idea. There were a handful of new faces in the crowd, a bunch of fucking millennials with man-buns and Ray-Bans and brimmed hats; but most of the crowd was the typical neighborhood crew, blue-collar workers with beer guts who were dropping slightly more money than their usual tab on an extra beer, and walking sloshed to the corner of the room to serenade their buddies with “Livin’ on a Prayer” (which made Ian stare across the bar at Mickey with a knowing smile between pouring drink orders).

At some point in the evening Debbie rolled in with a group of people from some gay bar she’d been pregaming her evening at, and Carl came by with some of his cop buddies; and all in all, the place had all the makings of a good fucking party. Which meant they were making good cash—beyond the wads of bills left on the bartop as tips, all the millennial jokers filtering through the space were surprisingly biting on the overpriced cocktails Ian had concocted, and they were racking up a good profit as the night went on.

Maybe they could fucking run this place after all.

Right now, a very sloshed Debbie was singing on the karaoke machine in the corner, belting out the final verse of “I Will Always Love You” and practically eye-fucking her new Grand Theft Auto girlfriend— an image that Mickey was trying not to pay attention to at all costs as he scanned the room, trying to mentally calculate just how well they’d done for the night. There’d been a good crowd streaming in for hours— and now the numbers were finally dwindling, and at last he and Ian could finally slow their pace for a bit, instead of being pulled in a million goddamn directions to wipe up beer spills or clear tables or refill the ice cubes in the freezer.

“Heeeyyyyy everyone! Listen up!” Debbie’s muffled voice took over the fade of the final chords of the song, her mouth a little too close to the microphone and making it screech as she spoke out to the crowd in the bar. “I just wanna say a shoutout to Ian and Mickey for taking over the Alibi! And for being the heroes that kept this place alive!” She teetered slightly. “Southside forever!”

Mickey scowled, and locked eyes with an amused Ian across the bar. “Control your fucking sister, man.”

Ian shrugged. “Eh. She’s the one that helped plan half this shit. Let Debs have some fun.”

Debbie pointed a finger over to where Ian and Mickey were standing behind the bar. “Everyone give them a round of applause! C’mon, they deserve it! C’mon!”

There were a couple of chuckles from the crowd, at Debbie’s deeply inebriated state as she tried to put the microphone back in its stand and drag herself away from the small TV showing song lyrics— but then, one by one, people at the bar started to clap— regulars, random newcomers, and even Tommy gave a little whoop as the cheers grew louder and louder and started to erupt.

Mickey just rolled his eyes, but Ian straightened his spine and smiled as he addressed the crowd. “Couldn’t have done it without all of you guys!” He wiped his hands with a towel, and went back to wiping down the bar as the applause settled.

Just then, Debbie turned and fumbled to grab the microphone once more. “Wait! Ian, Mickey! Come up here and sing a song.”

If Mickey thought he was scowling the first time Debbie had stumbled her way into the mic, now he was on a whole different level. He flashed a glance to Ian, and saw the sappy grin starting to grow on his face, like it always did when Ian had some dumbass idea. Jesus Christ.

Mickey needed to pump the brakes on this one fast. “No fucking way, Gallagher.”

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, reaching a placating hand onto his elbow. “C’mon, Mick. It’ll be fun.” Ian raised his eyebrows— and his stupid fucking eyes were shining again, doing that fucking thing where Mickey could feel in his bones that Ian was so ridiculously happy that they got to do sappy, mundane shit like this together…

Mickey blew out a breath. “I gotta do a shot or some shit before we do this.”

Ian’s grin grew ten sizes as he dropped the towel hanging from his shoulder onto the bar and swiftly turned to pour Mickey a shot of Jameson. Mickey’s frown deepened as he lifted his head back to pour the liquid fire down the back of his throat, bracing himself for battle; of course his stupid fucking American-Idol-wannabe husband couldn’t resist a call to do goddamn karaoke. Mickey blamed himself—he should’ve known Ian anywhere in the 1-mile radius of a karaoke machine would inevitably be a recipe for disaster.

Ian strode past the length of the bar and toward the corner of the Alibi where the illuminated screen of the karaoke machine was sitting there waiting— Mickey trudged behind him, shooting a glance at where Tommy and Kermit were seated on their regular stools.

“You two are in charge of the bar for 2 fucking minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” Kermit raised his hands in surrender, and Tommy just raised an eyebrow.

Ian was already punching at the little arrows on the machine. “What song d’you wanna do?”

“I could give less than a fuck, man. This is your fucking idea.”

Ian just flashed him a grin as he scrolled through the preselected song options. “Here, let’s do this one.”

He handed Mickey a microphone, and reached over to grab the second mic from Debbie’s hand (who was now successfully being corralled back to a booth by Heidi).

Instantly, the techno intro rhythms to the song began—and Ian started bobbing his head, causing the onlookers at the bar to laugh and one person to whistle. Mickey just shoved his upper arm.

“I fucking hate you so much.”

Ian just raised his eyebrows, and in a very off-key voice, started to sing:

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar

When I met you

I picked you out, I shook up and turned you around

Turned you into someone new”

Mickey felt his heart thudding in his chest—and fuck that. He owned the fucking bar, he could fucking sing with his goddamn husband if he wanted to. Fuck whatever everyone else was thinking.

So when the first verse ended, and quickly streamed into the second, Mickey clutched the microphone and half-spoke, half-sang the illuminated words on the screen:

“Now five years later on you’ve got the world at your feet

Success has been so easy for you

But don’t forget it’s me who put you where you are now

And I can put you back down too”

Ian’s grin was splitting across his face— and once again Mickey had to reach out and prod him in the chest.

“Stop looking so fucking sappy!”

Ian just held the microphone in both of his hands, and playfully started to sing the chorus:

“Don't

Don't you want me?

You know I can't believe it

When I hear that you won't see me”

He looked over at Mickey, raising his eyebrows. “C’mon, Mick!”

Fuck it.

Mickey swallowed down whatever lingering… feelings were happening about all of this shit, and let the people watching them melt away, fading into the hazy blue lighting— because fuck all those assholes, anyways. He and Ian had been through way too much shit in the main room of the Alibi for Mickey to be afraid of doing fucking karaoke right now; he’d literally come out to his dad in these four walls. He’d had his face bashed in the moment he decided right here, rooted in this same spot on the scuffed hardwood floors, that he would do fucking anything to always be by Ian Gallagher’s side. So he squeezed his eyes shut, just for a second— and pretended it was just him and Ian, singing fucking Lady Gaga in their bathroom as they brushed their teeth (which, yes, they had been prone to do since Chromatica came out, fucking sue him)— and let himself actually sing, deep from his gut in the same goofy, lighthearted way that Ian was doing along with him:

“Don’t you want me baby?

Don’t you want me? Oh!

Don’t you want me baby?

Don’t you want me? Oh!”

Ian’s face was slightly flushed, still grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining as he bobbed his head along with the music— and as they both finished singing the chorus, everyone in the bar started to lose their shit. Everyone was clapping and whistling; even some of the old regulars Mickey had pegged as homophobes a long time ago were cracking smiles through their scraggly beards and clapping their hands together.

When the song finally ended, Ian took a dramatic bow— then he took Mickey’s hand, clasping it and raising it over their heads. The applause and cheers erupted from the crowd, and someone yelled out:

“Let’s hear it for the new owners!”

After that, for the rest of the night Mickey loosened the fuck up— and maybe it was the couple of shots in his system, or maybe it was the fact that there weren’t that many people in the bar now at all except for a thin crowd of familiar faces— but he was feeling happy and warm as he milled through the crowd picking up empty glasses. At some point Debbie switched up the playlist to more dance-y stuff, causing her and Heidi to start spinning in the middle of the room, and a couple others to push the bar tables to the side and follow suit.

And now, people were dancing—and some random middle-aged neighborhood lady grabbed Mickey by the wrist, a smile on her face, to come dance with them—and usually Mickey would scowl and say “Fuck no” to dancing with some random fucking stranger in a situation like this, but he was feeling the blood rushing through his veins, feeling fucking settled—so for just this once, he decided to dance like a fucking goof in his Hawaiian shirt with the random lady for a while, til he locked eyes with where Ian was standing across the bar.

And maybe they were supposed to be paying attention, because they were still the ones running the fucking bar— but all Mickey wanted to do in that moment was walk across the room and press himself closer, closer, and reach his hand up to the side of Ian’s neck, and drag him to lean down to just the right height to press their lips together, to feel the warmth between them.

So that’s what he did, in the midst of the whirring of their neighbors and strangers in the Alibi around them.

We don’t have to run anymore.

#finally finished!!!#not rly proofread lol #yes it is almost 10k oops #i am actually rly proud of completing this chap i hope u enjoy #i love u all so so much i cannot get over how many amazing hcs i feel lucky to have included in this!#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #gallavich fanfiction #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #liam gallagher #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #ixm

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Everything, Everywhere | The Mikaelson Boys

Hello Lovelies! I circled back to my element and wrote a more traditional Mikaelson Boys fic. Did I reuse the theme of a ball? Yes, I am a weak and lazy woman. Did I make the fic completely implausible and touchy? You know I did, they’re vampires and I will let them touch whoever they want (with consent of course). Anyway, it’s honestly just a cute, kinda steamy romance. I altered some of the points from the universe but you have to squint to see where. You know, my entire gambit. You could use this as a prologue for my other fic, Big Decisions, but this is more than fine as a standalone. Anyways, I hope you are all doing well and that this story brings you joy! Until next time <3

Description: Y/n is part of a founding family and gets invited to a Mikaelson ball. Somehow she manages to enamour three of the brothers. They soon discover she has a few secrets that they’re more than willing to indulge.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x The Mikaelson Boys

Warnings: Kudos to me I think there are none

Word count: 10k (oops)

Tags: Fluff, smut if you squint (more like nudity)

“Are you heading home this weekend?” Lily twirls a strand of blonde hair between her fingers, “Mama told me there’s an event.”

Your best friend lays on your bed as opposed to her own, her legs dangling over the edge. Her eyes are closed, probably halfway to being asleep. It’s been this way since the two of you left for college three years ago, always more in your space than her own. You’re lucky that way, you have a best friend who would follow you across the country if you wanted her to. Honestly, you would do the same. Luckily, though, you decided on only two hours away away from home. Just far enough to find your footing. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

You smile softly at her, swiveling in your chair, “what event? My parents haven’t said anything to me.”

Your family is a founding family, just like Lily’s is. That’s how the two of you became best friends, it was practically destined. You were babies at the same time and your parents brought you to every meeting together. You were inseparable long before you can remember.

Lilly yawns, curling her legs to her chest, “I think it’s some sort of ball. I’m not too sure, I think we got invitations,” Lily rolls her eyes as if the concept of a hand written letter offends her very being, “and they probably just forgot or assumed I would tell you. Isn’t your mom, like, the head of the committee now?”

You nod at her, closing your own eyes for a second, “yeah she’s always got something going on. I swear she forgets she even has a daughter half the time.” You let your mind drift to the other half of the conversation, “Invitations? That’s exciting.”

You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes again. You crack an eye open anyway just in time to glimpse her do that very thing. You giggle lightly, shaking your head.

Always one for theatrics, “careful, Lil, your tomboy is showing. What would your mother think if she could see you up in arms over a silly, little note, hmm?”

She scowls at you before letting the grin crack through, flipping her middle finger up at you and mouthing bite me.

You lean your head back against your chair, “I’m not even sure if mama wants me to come. She hasn’t said anything about this to me. She called me yesterday and it didn’t come up once. Maybe I should just stay here.”

“Not true,” Lily curls her fingers at you, beckoning you to join her on the bed, “she’s just busy these days. Remember how she was when we were little?”

You move to the bed, curling next to your best friend, “you mean how she was always around? She went from helicopter parent to too busy to text me back.”

You yawn, closing your eyes and letting the lullaby of sleep on your limbs sing a little louder. Lily cuddles closer to you, almost gone herself. You wish you could hold onto these moments. These fleeting minutes of comfort in your best friend’s arms. It’ll be gone all too soon. You almost don’t want to fall asleep. Laying next to her feels like the calm before the storm and you want to soak up as much of it as you can. Your heavy eyelids, however, have other plans.

“You’re coming. If I have to go then so do you. I’m sure this weekend will be different,” her voice is the last thing you hear before you drift off, “I can feel it.”

* * * * * * * * *

Sure enough, when you pull into your parent’s driveway after dropping Lily off at her own house, your mother bursts through the door, a wide smile on her face. You let your own smile drown the nerves you’ve been fighting for the last three hours, practically falling out of the car to get to her. She wraps you in a hug, her familiar honeysuckle and lilac scent trickling around you.

“I missed you, mama,” you whisper against her shoulder and she squeezes you tighter for a second before letting go.

“Oh honey,” she crinkles her nose at you, her face the picture of serene joy, “what’s to miss? I’m always right here. I, however, missed you so much.” She leads you into the house, her arm around your shoulders tight, “Tell me all about everything!”

You suck in a breath as you enter your house, letting your shoulders sag as you pass over the door frame. You’re home, finally. You glance around quickly at everything you’ve missed for the last few months. You glance at family photos, most of which include Lily, and the random trinkets your parents have collected over the years. There are a few new ones and you make a mental note to look at them later.

You settle on a stool at the kitchen counter, leaning your head in your hand, “you first, mama. What’s this about a ball? And an invitation, hmm? You’ve been holding out on me.”

Her eyes widen, telling you everything you need to know. She forgot. You really aren’t that surprised. It makes you feel better, at least the reason she didn’t tell you wasn’t because she didn’t want you to attend. Lily was right, you’ll have to let her say I told you so when you see her next.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers, rushing to the foyer, her voice floating to you as she turns the corner, “I’m so sorry honey, it completely slipped my mind. I barely had a chance to glance at my own invitation,” she comes back into view, now with two envelopes in her hand, “here you go!”

She hands you the envelope and you almost gasp at how luxurious the paper feels in your fingers. The cardstock is definitely of the more expensive selection and you blanche. Who on earth could be sending this? You read your name on the card drawn in an elegant script. Handwritten. You had been joking with Lily when you thought that but now, looking at it first hand, it almost offends you as well. You could never write like that.

You open it carefully, making sure to not taint the red seal. You’re pretty sure your heart would collapse if that happened. This has to be one of the most beautiful things you have ever touched. You pull the equally luxurious note from the envelope, your eyes dancing over the paper.

Please join the Mikaelson Family this coming Saturday at seven o’clock for dancing, cocktails, and celebration.

Your heart stops. This coming Saturday. Saturday. As in today Saturday. You whip your head up to stare at your mother, your mouth falling open.

“Mama,” this time your eyes widen, “this is tonight!” you hiss, your brows shooting up, “I can’t attend this! There’s no time, it’s two in the afternoon already!”

She rolls her eyes and for a moment you picture Lily and how she would call you dramatic. You can practically hear her voice. Just wear jeans you princess. You scoff at imaginary Lily. You can’t attend a ball in jeans, not that that would stop her at all.

“You can and you should attend,” she places a finger under your chin, drawing your eyes to meet hers, “the Mikaelson’s are new to town and have invited us. It’s only polite that we attend. Besides,” she winks at you and your cheeks flood with heat, “they are quite the handsome bunch. Perhaps you can end this dry spell? Give me some grandbabies?”

You choke at her words, pulling your face from her fingers with burning skin, “oh my god, mama! I’m almost certain you should not be condoning grandbabies! Besides, I have nothing to wear so I highly doubt I’ll be the one pulled from the crowd. Reproduction rates are looking slim, I am sorry to say!”

She laughs, her eyes crinkling, and you can’t stop yourself from joining her, “alright, alright. No grandbabies. Yet. However, I’m not so sure how you can be so certain when you haven’t even looked at what I picked up for you. I quite think you’re going to change your mind, honey bunch.”

Your laughter stops abruptly as she leaves the room for the second time. You hear her jog up the stairs and your interest is officially peaked. She never jogs. What on earth has she done? You rack your brain, trying to picture what she’s going to show you now. You don’t have much time to sit on your thoughts, however, because soon you can hear her feet on the stairs again, still jogging, now humming a tune you can’t place.

When she comes back into view, your mouth falls open. In her hands is a gown. No, not just a gown. In her hands is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It’s a black, sequined number with a full skirt and a slit that looks like it will rest a touch lower than your hip. The straps keeping it on the hanger are thin, almost nonexistent, and the bodice has a deep but modest dip. When she moves it sparkles like a diamond, catching the sun rays pouring in through the kitchen window. She holds it up, letting it flow to its full effect in front of you, and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

You can feel the tears prickling at the edge of your vision and you silently scold yourself for being so emotional, “mama, where did you get this? It’s too much!”

Her smile falters, minutely, but you still see it and curse silently, “you don’t like it?”

You stand quickly, your eyes wide, “no! That’s not it,” you take the dress from her, afraid it’ll disappear if you don’t touch it, “this must have cost a fortune is all! How can we afford this?”

It’s true, the dress looks like a million bucks and probably costs as much. You’re a founding family, sure, but that doesn’t instantly equate to old money. It doesn’t even mean new money. Your family has never struggled to get by but you also know that something this extravagant would have definitely set your father back a pretty penny. You don’t want your family to waste their hard earned money on something this frivolous, even if it is the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Your mother’s smile returns to its full brilliance and she shakes her head, “it didn’t cost me a thing, honey, don’t worry. Mrs. Jackson down the street owed me a favor and I asked if she had anything particularly pretty laying around. She pulled this from her closet. She also told me to let you know that it’s yours if you would like.”

You hug the dress tiger to your chest, your mouth gaping further, “I can keep this?”

Your mother giggles, bobbing her head up and down quickly. She looks like she’s ready to start jumping. You don’t blame her, you’re half a second away from doing the same thing. You could scream from how ecstatic you are.

“Come, honey,” your mom grabs your hand, dragging you up the stairs with her, “I think it’s high time we start getting ready for tonight, don’t you think? You have some Mikaelson’s to wow!”

* * * * * * * * *

When seven o’clock rolls around you’re standing outside the biggest mansion you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Its white pillars taunt you, each one large enough to hide your body. Twice. You’re alone, spare the people around you milling in and out of the large doors. Your mother had dropped you in front while her and your father went to park the car. Never before in your life has a house made you feel this small. This alone. You pull your shawl, a sheer black number, around your shoulders and shrink slightly.

A hand lands on your shoulder and you jump, spinning around quickly only to be greeted with Lily, whose face is twisted from the laughter pouring out of her. She clutches her stomach from the force, wrinkling the red satin dress she’s wearing. You take a moment to admire how much it suits her. It’s a little bold for your tastes but she wears it like no one else could. Her hair is twisted on the top of her head, a few curls falling to frame her face. She looks amazing, not that you had any doubts.

You lightly smack her shoulder, finally letting a few giggles loose, “you scared me you idiot!” You turn your eyes back to the mansion, swallowing the lump of nerves growing in your throat, “take a look at this place, will you. It’s huge! Have you ever seen a house this big? What could someone possibly need a house this big for?”

“Yeah it’s something alright,” her eyes drag down the hulking facade before meeting yours once more, a naughty smirk now on her red lips, “and I’m sure the inside is even nicer! Let’s go!”

She grabs your hand, all but dragging you over the threshold. Light pours over you, catching the sequins on your dress and making it sparkle delicately, something that would usually make you squeal however your attention is currently elsewhere. That elsewhere is the dual grand staircase in the center of the room. It’s encased in pillars, the feature leaking in from the exterior of the mansion. It’s bronze railings are strung up with thousands of twinkling lights. The staircase is easily the focal point of the foyer.

But not because of the lights.

Lily digs her nails into your hand, pulling you to a screeching halt, “are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

Her eyes are glued to the same place that yours are, dragging up and down the staircase with little care to whoever might be watching her little show. You choose a less outright form of gawking, opting to look all around the room while still making little glances at your main focus.

“Yeah, Lil, I think I am,” you gulp, your eyes training on three sinfully gorgeous men, “mama said they were handsome but this,” you let the end of your sentence drop, not having nearly the vocabulary to explain the Mikaelsons.

In total, there are five people on the staircase. Four men and a woman. Each one is gorgeous in their own right. You mull over the woman first. If you thought that you looked nice before you left, that’s pretty much gone now. She’s absolutely stunning. Her blonde hair lays in a sheet over her shoulders, winding almost to her base of her spine. She wears an emerald gown, one fitted to every dip and curve of her body like it was spun by Aphrodite herself. You have to look away, she’s the kind of pretty that makes you feel like you’re not worthy of seeing it.

Your eyes travel to the man next to her and your mouth goes dry. He’s tall. That’s the first thing you notice. If you were next to him he would easily tower over you. Not just because of his height, though. You shift your focus to his arms and the way the sleeves of his tux hug them tightly. You have no doubts this man could rip you in two if he wanted to. He stands at ease, his eyes wandering the faces of those closest to him as he lifts a hand to smooth over his brown hair. At least he doesn’t look to be in the killing mood.

Behind him is a man with blonde hair. Even from across the room it looks softer than silk and your palms itch to run through it. He leans against the railing, a glass of champagne loose in his fingers. His eyes are on the others but he has the appearance of a man who is a thousand miles away. Your heart hurts at the thought but you brush past it. You don’t know him and you’re most likely wrong. Still you give him another brush over, wishing slightly that he would crack even a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, moving to the man at the top of the stairs. He’s alive with something fiery, speaking to the others with animated hands and laughing hard. You can’t hear him over the crowd around you but, gods, you wish you could. It’s probably nothing important but, by the looks of him, he could make anything sound special. He throws his head back laughing, his brown hair flopping wildly. You can’t look at him for long either but not for the same reason you couldn’t look at the woman. No, you can’t look at him because you’re afraid if you look any longer than you’ll be sucked in forever.

When you look at the last man you shiver. It’s not the kind of shiver that makes you feel exhilarated though, it’s the opposite. Your blood runs cold when you look at him and, when his eyes meet yours, you look away instantly. You can feel his eyes burning into your back for a few moments after and you hate it. Unlike the rest of them, this man makes you feel ice cold.

You tug on your best friend’s hand, desperate to get away from the man, “come on, Lil, let’s go find the champagne.”

Lily’s eyes light up at the thought, instantly taking the lead on this new expedition, “girl you read my mind!”

You take one last glance towards the staircase as she pulls you into another room, momentarily catching three pairs of brown eyes before scampering around the corner. Your cheeks are hot when you’re finally out of their vicinity. You hadn’t realized how heavy the air around them had been. Now that you can’t see them your bones feel marginally lighter. Something nags at you though, a loss of sorts. You rub a hand over your chest, massaging the ache away.

Lily pushes a cool glass into your hand, lifting her own to her lips. You follow suit, breathing in the sugary scent before letting the sweet bubbles flow down your throat. They pop, soothing your flaming chest.

“Shit,” Lily breathes, “everything about this screams money. The invitations, the house, this damn champagne. What’s next? A pool of synchronised swimmers?” Her eyes wander the room, her fingers tight around the glass, “I’m not used to this Great Gatsby level of wealth. It’s making my head spin a little. This is my parent’s scene, not mine.”

You nod lightly, her words everything you’ve been dying to say. It’s magnificent but you’ve never felt more out of place. Not even the founders day balls are like this. At least Mrs. Lockwood has the good sense to cater to the modesty of the town. Before you can answer, however, a voice joins your conversation.

“My apologies, my brothers like to go overboard when throwing parties. It’s not quite my taste either, a little too stuffy if you ask me.”

You spin around to the sight of the woman from the stairs and your heart pounds hard in your chest. She’s even more beautiful up close, like a Van Gogh masterpiece. Her voice is accented and smooth, impossibly so. You feel like a peasant in her presence but her smile is light and it helps to soothe your nerves a touch. When you look at Lily, though, her cheeks are beet red and her eyes are wide.

“Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would hear me besides,” she nudges you lightly, the smile she’s plastered on her face sheepish, “this one here. It really is gorgeous. Perhaps university has lowered my standards.”

You watch Lily fumble her words and you don’t blame her. This girl seems like she was made to insite insecurity and you mean that in the very best of ways. Despite her slight enthusiasm, though, Lily’s eyes flow over the woman slowly. You can tell she’s interested. By the way her stares are being reciprocated, you would say she isn’t the only one. You smile at that.

The woman laughs, her eyes filled with mirth, “your standards aren’t low, this party is just a nightmare. I’m Rebekah, one of the many Mikaelsons you will surely encounter tonight,” she looks over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowing slightly, “and it looks as though you’re going to get the immersive experience.”

You, too, look over her shoulder and your heart stops. The three men from the staircase, the ones who didn’t make your blood run cold, walk towards you slowly, stopping here and there to welcome guests. The tall one catches your eye and you freeze, a deer caught in the headlights. He says something to the other men and they join in looking at you. You swallow hard, your insides doing somersaults at the sight of them. A deer caught in three headlights, it would seem.

You look back at Rebekah, your eyes blown wide from the panic rising in your chest. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes still locked on your best friend. They’re in the middle of a conversation that you haven't been paying attention to. You tune back in just in time to hear Lily ask about the gardens behind the house. You scrunch your nose. What gardens?

“Yes, they’re marvelous,” Rebekah leans towards Lily, a glint in her eyes, “and much less crowded. I could show you around them if you’d like?”

Oh no. No no no. You can see the gears turning in your best friend’s head and the smile that blossoms on her face. You know what’s about to happen and for a moment time stands still. She’s really going to do it, isn’t she?

She looks over at you, tossing you and apologetic squint before meeting Rebekah’s wondering eyes, “I would love that! Lead the way.”

You watch in slow motion as your best friend wanders away, once more looking over her shoulder to mouth a quick I’m sorry. You roll your eyes at her, murmuring a silent you owe me. You close your eyes briefly, tipping the remainder of your champagne into your mouth. You set your glass down as the alcohol swirls in your stomach, adding a kind of weightlessness to your movements. You embrace it, your eyes scanning the ornate walls. What the hell are you going to do now?

A breeze swirls around you, a myriad of spices hitting your nose just as a honeyed voice breaks your daze, “this house was built in the seventeenth century. As a matter of fact, those are the same walls. I do apologize, we’re a little slow when it comes to modernization. I know it can be a lot to take in, if you need another moment to confront them I do understand.”

You turn quickly, your cheeks hot to the touch, and you find yourself inches away from one of the men from the staircase. You bite your cheek, you really need to figure out their names. Up close you see that you were right about him, he does indeed tower over you. You have to bend your neck significantly to make comfortable eye contact. You almost wish you hadn't, though, his dark eyes flooding your chest with butterflies.

“I think I’ve had my fill of the walls but thank you for your consideration,” you pull your wrap tighter around you, clutching it like it's the source of magic that is helping you keep your composure, “and for the history lesson. This house is beautiful.”

He smiles widely, an action so doused in beauty that your head spins, “thank you, it was my father’s. I am Elijah, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” his eyes flit across your face and you can feel the blush begin to creep down your chest, “something which I’m beginning to understand is a terrible misfortune on my part.”

Your heart pounds painfully, your throat dry. This man clearly has a deep grasp on words and knows exactly how to use them. You wonder for a moment to what extent. What would he sound like in a more intimate setting? What words would he use when no one else could hear him?

Your eyes widen, your chest burning at the thought, “I’m y/n. Perhaps you’ve met my mother, Mary-Anne?” you glance around, trying and failing to locate your mother, “She’s around here somewhere, she has a hand in most of the happenings around town so it wouldn’t surprise me if you do know her.”

Elijah’s carmel eyes fill with recognition, “ah, yes, I believe I’ve seen her in town. Never you, though.”

Though he doesn’t ask, the question is clear in his tone.

“I attend university out of town,” you clutch your chest lightly, your fingers curling around the top of your dress, “I’m actually only home for the weekend. My mother was adamant I attend this evening.”

Elijah tilts his head, his eyes flitting quickly to where your fingers slip down your dress. When he looks back at you his eyes are a touch darker than before. Your heart pounds harder as well and you bite your lip slightly, thankful your mother didn’t make you wear lipstick.

“I see. I suppose that means we must give you a night to remember,” his eyes linger on your mouth for a moment and the heat that was swirling in your chest sinks lower.

“Indeed we shall, brother,” a voice from your left pulls your attention.

You’re greeted with the blonde from earlier, the one who looked like he was on another planet. Standing in front of you now he looks much more aware. His eyes, a touch lighter than Elijah’s, skim down your dress, lingering on the high slit on your hip before meeting yours again. You suck in a breath but there is no oxygen to be found.

“I do hope my brother is giving you a proper welcome,” his eyes flash, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips, “I wouldn’t want you leaving here tonight without a proper taste of the Mikaelson charm.”

The way he says the word taste, the way it rolls of his tongue, is positively sinful. It hits you straight in the stomach, spreading like poison through your already airy body. It anchors you to the ground, to him. You glance at Elijah who’s already watching you like a hawk. You feel naked under his gaze but, for some reason, it isn’t a wholly unwelcome feeling. You actually kind of like it.

You smile lightly at him before turning back to his brother, “I think he’s doing a marvelous job. His introduction skills, however, need a little bit of a touch up.” You giggle at the glimpse of his furrowed eyebrows from the corner of your eye, “Too much talking about walls for my liking.”

“Ah, there you two are,” a third voice joins your arsenal of men, standing on your right and piercing you with a voice accented enough to make the gods fall to their knees, “hogging all the pretty girls tonight, are we Klaus?”

You meet the eyes of the third man, the one who made laughter look like a gift, and your heart sings. He grins at you, his eyes, much like his brothers’, a warm brown. Having all three of them this close to you is more intense than you could have imagined. They make the room feel smaller. Intimate. You’re not sure if you want to run away screaming or move closer to them. They’re magnetic, you’re just not sure if being pulled in or pushed away.

He takes your hand, an action that sends your heart into overdrive. His eyes light up, as if he can hear every rapid beat of your pulse. You scold yourself inwardly. Don’t be stupid, y/n, that would be impossible.

“I’m Kol,” he brings your hand to his lips, laying a kiss that renders your knees weak against your knuckles, “it’s a pleasure.”

Your heart thunders at the feeling of his lips against your skin. You feel like a schoolgirl, dizzy from the slightest touch from your playground crush. His lips are warm and soft. Is this how princesses feel? God, you need another drink.

“So,” Klaus steps towards you, his eyes swirling with something barely contained, “what’s this I heard about us giving you a night to remember?”

Your heart stops on the spot and you almost choke, not missing any of the implications behind his tone, “I have to head back to school tomorrow is all,” you breathe, trying to play off some of the heat swirling under the surface of your skin, “please, don’t let me keep you from the rest of your guests. I’m sure there are quite a few more important people than me here tonight.”

Elijah chuckles, the sound piling on top of the many other ones you’re already holding tight to, “the guest list is merely a formality, it would really be my pleasure to show you around.”

He holds his hand out to you, his eyes warm but challenging. You swallow thickly, a string of indecipherable emotions rushing through your chest, circling your lungs. You know it’s just a gesture so why does it feel like something more? Why does the thought of taking his hand feel like stepping into the rest of your life? You take a breath, squaring your shoulders and slipping your hand into his. Bring it on, destiny.

“Wait just a moment brother,” Kol’s fingers slip around your wrist, dragging down your palm until your fingers are locked together, “stealing her away from me so soon? I’m not sure I can let you do that.”

Elijah and Kol stare at each other, something wild brewing in their increasingly dark eyes. You tense, feeling like the rope in a game of tug of war. This doesn’t feel like a game, though, this feels real. You’re not a rope to be fought over, you get to decide what and who you want. Even if that’s all of them.

You squeeze both of their hands, drawing their attention back to you, “I’m sure this house is big enough for us to all comfortably go for a tour.”

Elijah’s eyes widen, dragging over you once more as if seeing you properly for the first time all night. He, like his brothers, lingers on the most delicate parts of you for just a few moments longer than he should. It’s a hole in his armor, a hint past the gentleman front. You want to leap at it and pull until all that’s left is the darkness swirling beneath his surface.

You glance at Kol who meets your eyes head on, a toothy grin already on his face, “marvelous, darling. What a great idea.”

He begins pulling you, and by default Elijah, out of the room but you halt, feeling a tad off. You look behind you at Klaus and sigh, your heart heavy. He stands tall but you catch his eyes and the way they glance at your hands, both of which are still being occupied. He squeezes his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. You tilt your head, pouting slightly at him.

“Mr. Mikaelson, are you coming? Time is of the essence,” you nod your head toward the foyer, a coy smile on your lips, “we can’t can’t afford to waste any now.”

His face lights up instantly, walking towards you with flames dancing behind his eyes, “time isn’t real, love. Tonight we have as much of it as we want. As much of it as you want.”

You swallow hard. You want it all.

Kol pulls you towards him, twirling you slowly, making your dress spin around your legs like a ribbon, “where to first, darling? What do you want to see?”

Your hands land on his chest, your cheeks flushed and legs wobbly from the spinning. His other hand goes around your waist, his fingers squeezing gently, his thumb pressing into your side in a way that makes you want to draw his body closer to your own. Your thoughts from before ring through your head. He makes everything sound special. More than that; he makes everything feel special.

“Everything,” you can’t tear your eyes away from his, you don’t want to, “show me everything please.”

He leans down, his forehead inches from your own. You can feel the heat rolling off his body even through his tux. It’s luxurious and mingles with the last dregs of the champagne. When combined with his scent, a nutty blend of cloves and cinnamon, you feel lightheaded.

“Very well, darling,” his eyes flit to your lips, “everything it is.”

An arm snakes around your waist, pulling you away from whatever mischief is brewing beneath Kol’s honey eyes. He tilts his head at the person who grabbed you, his aura turning from playful to down right frosty.

You turn away, breaking the hold of one Tyler Lockwood. Your ex. You squint your eyes. If you were a cat, your hackles would be raised. You wouldn’t claw his eyes out but you would be damn close. Memories from your senior year pour through your mind, twisting your gut painfully. You blink them away. Contrary to Klaus, you don’t have time for this.

“Tyler,” your voice courteous but cold, “what is it?”

He doesn’t catch your tone or, if he does, he doesn’t act like it. He reaches towards you again, no doubt to pull you into a hug, but you back away. Unlike with Kol, you don’t want to touch him. You definitely don't want him touching you. That part of your life is over.

“Y/n,” his voice is light, happy, “I didn’t know you were back! Mom didn’t say anything. How have you been?”

The atmosphere around you thickens. You don’t have to look at the Mikaelsons to see that their shoulders are tense. You feel them take a step closer to you, surrounding you with some much needed warmth.

You clench your jaw, forcing a smile on your face, “yes, well, I didn’t know if I was going to be home this weekend or not. University and all, I’m sure you understand. I’m fine, thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically and you grind your teeth slightly, wishing the floor would just swallow you whole. You dart your eyes to the side, briefly skimming Klaus as he rolls his eyes. Lily would be proud. Kol and Elijah don’t look amused either. You’re not sure how you know but you have to get them away from Tyler as fast as possible. The air drops another few degrees and you shiver.

“Oh well, no harm done!” Tyler steps closer to you, “say, how long are you in town? We should grab a bite at the grill.”

You drop your fake smile, your heart stinging slightly, “sorry, Lily and I are heading back tomorrow morning.”

You feel the boys once again tense, as if they don’t like the information you just shared. You don’t have time to think too hard about it though before Tyler closes even more space between you, grabbing your hand. You flinch back, hitting something hard and warm. The smell of pine trees, a whole forest of them, swirls around you as a hand circles your waist.

Tyler scrunches his brows, his smile slightly faltering, “tonight, then? I would really love a chance to talk. Catch up a little.”

You almost laugh. He just isn’t giving up. He can never make it easy for you, can he? The hand on your waist squeezes and you look over your shoulder, your heart stuttering. Elijah is staring at Tyler, something swirling under his irises. Whatever it is looks untamed. Not in the good way, like how he was looking at you earlier. No, whatever he’s feeling right now is dangerous. Time to go.

“I really can’t, my night has been spoken for. Maybe next time, Tyler,” you turn to Elijah, “Elijah, did you say that you saw my mother looking for me? Would you mind showing me to her?”

Elijah’s eyes sparkle, clearly taking your hint, “indeed, she was right this way.”

He pushes you gently, blocking you from Tyler as he leads you out of the room. You can hear Tyler call out to you but you keep walking. Two other sets of footsteps join you, Kol grabbing your hand and twining your fingers together once more. When you break into the foyer you let the anxiety that had been building drain. That was more exhausting than you would like to admit.

Elijah leads the four of you silently to a room off to the side of the foyer. He pushes the large mahogany door open, ushering you in before shutting it again. The smell of ink and old pages hits your nose and your mouth drops open at the sight. You’re in the biggest library you’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of The Beauty and The Beast, the ceilings high and the walls lined from top to bottom with shelves upon shelves of books. You break away from the boys, your fingers itching to touch what is no doubt an impressive collection of history.

You hear a chuckle behind you but you don’t turn, your fingers skimming an older looking manuscript. Upon closer inspection the handwritten inscription on the cover reads Vonya i mir. Your heart stops and you quickly pull it from the shelf throwing all common courtesy out the window. This can’t be what you think it is. You flip it over in your hands, taking care not to crack the spine too much. Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy.

You whip your head up, meeting three curious glances with wide eyes, “this is War and Peace! Like, the original manuscript. This is,” your heart pounds, your eyes glued to the yellowed pages in your hands, “this is history. I can’t believe I’m holding this.” Your heart stops, “Oh my, I should not be holding this! This belongs in a museum! What am I even doing, holding it like it’s nothing.”

You set it carefully on a desk behind you, looking apologetically back at them. Your cheeks heat rapidly. It’s very much not like you to go into a stranger’s home and start groping their collectables. You pull your lip between your teeth, lowering your head.

A hand gently grabs your chin, “you didn’t mention you’re a classic literature major, love.”

A small smile toys on Klaus’ lips, his thumb skimming over your jaw. Your heart stutters when he says love, warmth spreading through your chest. You reluctantly move your head from his hand, turning to motion at the manuscript.

“That’s because I’m not. I am a history major, with a focus on Russian culture. I’ve read War and Peace more times than I care to admit,” you smile lightly at the book, thinking about the hours you’ve spent pouring over it, “never in Russian, though.”

You glance back at Klaus, your hand flying once more to your bodice. He studies you carefully, his head tilted to the side.

“And what do you think of it? Do you prefer the war or the peace?” He steps towards you, his words filling the almost nonexistent gap between your body and his.

Your breath catches. He’s close enough to touch and, gods, do you ever want to just reach out and pull him against you. First Elijah, then Kol, now him. You’re really gunning to end that dry spell in one night and three ways aren’t you? Heat creeps up your neck, your ears flaming at the thought.

“You can’t have one without the other,” you glance over his shoulder at Elijah and Kol, both of whom are hanging on to your every word, “war is inevitable but peace,” you look back at Klaus, “peace is fundamental.”

Klaus brushes a strand of hair from your cheekbone, sending shivers racing up your spine, “fundamental to what, love?”

His voice is low, his accent wearing down any reservations that you had at the beginning of the night. Your mother’s voice rings through your ears. Give me some grandbabies. She had clearly been joking but your body clearly has no concept of satire, heat pooling between your legs at the thought of making those babies. You close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It does nothing to quench the heat. You’re in the thick of it now and there is no escaping the white hot fire growing inside of you.

You sink your head into his hand, “happiness.”

An arm hooks around your waist, spinning you into a pair of spiced arms. Kol. You crack your eyes open and, sure enough, you’re correct. You shouldn’t have been able to guess that already. You’ve known them for no longer than an hour. This is insane. He lowers his face towards yours and your heart slams against your ribcage, his lips inches from yours. You swallow hard, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket. Instead of kissing you, however, he rubs his nose against yours. Oh. That feels nice.

“What makes you happy, darling?”

You laugh softly, his question catching you off guard, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I haven’t had many opportunities to find out.”

“Well then, If you could do one thing that you think would make you happy what would you do?” Kol lifts a hand to your face, his thumb, like his brother’s, skimming your jaw.

You don’t have to think about it, the answer is on your tongue as soon as he asks the question, “I would leave this town,” you glance down, the truth of your statement making you feel all too guilty, “and I’m not sure that I would ever come back.”

His thumb stills and you hold your breath. Perhaps you should have answered with something a little less full on. You haven’t even told Lily that you want to leave and never look back so you honestly have no idea why you just divulged one of your greatest kept secrets to three men you just met. Maybe because it doesn’t matter. Who are they going to tell, right? But no, that doesn’t feel right. You didn’t just tell them because. You had a reason, you just can’t put a name to it.

“I see,” he draws his thumb over your lips, an action that both surprises you and steals the air from your lungs, “and where would you go?”

Again, your answer is effortless, “everywhere, Kol. I would go everywhere.”

Kol smiles, his eyes lighting up with his grin. Your heart skyrockets, fireworks shooting through your chest from the slightest tilt of his perfectly red lips. They look soft; perfectly kissable. If only you had half of his self-assurance. What you wouldn’t give to run the tips of your fingers over his lips.

His hands draw back down your sides, “what was going on back there? You didn’t seem pleased to be speaking to that,” Kol clicks his tongue distastefully, his accent thickening, “boy. Is he the reason you want to leave?”

You pull back slightly, your hands tightening on his coat. How are you even supposed to answer that? The story is a long one and there are very few enjoyable moments to lighten it. Tyler is not the reason you want to leave but you surely wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by staying for him either. He’s part of a long past, one you’re not going to tell them about. Not today, anyway.

“It’s a long story,” you gently remove yourself from his hold, “one that I assure you none of you would care to hear. But to answer your question, no. Tyler has nothing to do with me wanting to leave. That’s entirely my own, for better or worse.”

He nods, the understanding clear in his honeyed eyes, “in that case, darling, tell me something else.” He pulls you back to his chest, “Do you like the stars?”

* * * * * * * * *

They left the party. Their party. They just up and left the party that they were hosting. You’re shocked. You were shocked when they dragged you out of the mansion and you’re still shocked now, laying on a blanket a few miles away with your mouth hanging open. You hadn’t thought anything of it when Kol asked you about the stars. You thought he was continuing with his little game of twenty one questions. You didn’t think he was serious! Who the hell just leaves the party they’re hosting?

Elijah shuffles his hands through your hair, pulling pins from it left and right and letting the hardwork your mother put into it fall. Yes, indeed you’re laying across the lap of one of the most eligible bachelors you have ever come in contact with, your face pressed against his warm thigh. Your fingers are wrapped around a bottle of the sweet champagne from earlier.

“You know,” you murmur quietly, your eyes locked on the spray of stars above your head, “when you host a party, it’s usually expected that you attend. Running away is frowned upon.”

He laughs and you can feel it through your entire body. It awakens the butterflies sleeping in your chest, sending them fluttering to your guts where the beating of their tiny wings create an inferno so large it sets you on fire from the inside out. You always wondered what it would feel like to be burned alive. You would have never guessed that it would make your toes curl.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he drags his fingers through your scalp, the final blow to your once styled hair, “to run away. Here’s a start.”

You rub your cheek against his thigh, your face heating when he tenses at your action, “we’re pretty terrible at this running away thing then,” you hum, pulling yourself to your knees, “we only made it five miles. If I focus I think I can still hear the music. We’re lousy escape artists.”

A breeze blows over your shoulders and you shiver, your thin shawl doing nothing to veil you from the night. You’re just thankful it’s still warm enough to be outside at this time of night. Soon the nights will be getting colder and you won’t be able to do this. It’s one of the many reasons you long to move away. A pair of hands draws over your shoulders and you shiver again, this time from something entirely unrelated to the elements. You smile lightly. Maybe not. The Mikealson’s have more than proven that they are a force of nature.

Klaus’ voice is like ocean waves in your ear, cresting your skin with every low syllable, “well this is just the beginning, love. How far we go is up to you.”

He’s joking, of course. He has to be joking, right? You turn to look at him, seeking out his eyes in the darkness. They burn into yours, no hint of humor anywhere on his face. His gaze pierces through the night and your breath catches, your heart pounding at all the possibilities of what he meant. You bring the bottle to your lips, using the cool liquid to stall while you gather your feelings.

Kol takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth, “So, darling,” he kisses one of your knuckles, his lips like heavenly fire, “how far are we going?” Another knuckle, another kiss, “what is it you want?” He nips lightly at your fingertips and you gasp, the feeling akin to tiny zaps of lightning against your skin, “where do you want to go?”

Your head is spinning, the champagne settling once more over your bones, “I wouldn’t know where to start. There are too many places,” you swallow hard, “too many things.”

Klaus’ fingers toy at the straps of your dress, skimming down your arms with them in tow, “the first place that comes to mind, love. What is it?”

Elijah pulls you towards him, his hand sliding up the slit on your thigh and curling around your hip. His fingers whisper over your bare skin and you tighten your hand on the bottle. Not out of fear, though. No, you use the bottle to keep your hands busy. If your hands were empty you can’t be sure where exactly they would be. On who they would be.

Elijah squeezes your hip and you gasp again, this time louder, “New Orleans,” it’s the first place that comes to your mind, “I want to go to New Orleans.”

Time stills when you finally answer the question. You can hear the wind rustle through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. Three smells, each of their own element, wrap around you. Klaus’, like water, pouring over your back. Kol’s, like fire, burning up your arm. Elijah’s, like earth, sliding down your hips. You, the air, curl around each of them, pulling them close with your very essence.

And then, with a far off howl, time unfreezes and Klaus rips the straps down your arms, “New Orleans, hmm,” He sweeps your hair back, his nose skimming down the side of your neck, “a woman after my own heart. When shall we go?”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the almost reverent atmosphere, “we can’t just leave, Klaus. You have to plan things. I can’t just drop everything and run to New Orleans.”

Kol pulls your arm through the strap, furthering the tantalizingly slow process of peeling the dress from your body, “but you want to, darling. Am I right?”

His lips find the crook of your elbow and you almost moan, “of course you are but it’s not practical.”

Elijah tugs at your hips again, pulling you onto his lap. Kol and Klaus move with you, clinging to you like shadows. Kol’s hair tickles your arm, the soft strands brushing against you as his blazes a trail of open mouthed kisses up your arm. Klaus nips the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped in your hair and pulling lightly. It should feel wrong, you know it should, but by god how could something this ethereal possibly be wrong. Your body feels like it’s made out air and for the first time you’re free to breeze wherever you choose.

“Neither are we. It’s simple,” Elijah leans down, grabbing your jaw and steering you to meet his eyes, “would you like to go, y/n?”

Your heart stops when it hits you that they’re dead serious, “to New Orleans?”

It’s dark but you can still make out the smile on his face. It says it all, his words only reaffirming what your brain has been screaming at you.

“Not just New Orleans, darling, everywhere,” Elijah murmurs, his lips just in front of yours, his peppermint breath fanning your face delicately, “do you want to go everywhere?”

Just like that, your heart restarts, a rush of adrenaline spreading over your bones. Very rarely in life are you presented with the opportunity to go everywhere. You can’t even fathom what everywhere means. Surely there isn’t time to go everywhere, right? You suck in a breath, one that makes it feel like before this moment you were never truly breathing at all. Who cares if there isn’t enough time, you think to yourself.

You slide your arms around Elijah’s neck fast, nodding your head furiously in lieu of all the words that refuse to form a coherent sentence. You tangle your fingers in his hair, the strands like silk against your skin. You don’t take your time to admire it, though, you just yank his mouth to yours, smashing your lips against his and hoping it says everything that you can’t.

His hands squeeze your hips again and this time you don’t hold back, moaning into his mouth with the force of the tropical storm building under your skin. Your dress feels much too tight all of a sudden, the sequined material biting into your flesh. You shuffle, pulling your other arm from the strap before wrapping it back around Elijah’s shoulder, your fingers digging into his back through his tux jacket. That needs to go too. Now.

“Darling,” Kol’s husky voice whispers against your skin, his face buried in the other side of your neck, “as beautiful as you look right now I’m about half a second away from ripping this dress off your body.”

His words barely register but you catch the important parts, peeling your lips from Elijah’s just far enough to utter, “please don’t rip it, it’s the prettiest thing I own.”

His hands, which are curled around the back of your bodice, stall momentarily, “well that won’t do, now will it?” He muses, his mouth skimming your shoulder with each word, “New Orleans is fine, you won’t need many clothes at all I’m sure. But Paris will demand more of us, darling. We’ll have to fix this.”

Your heart shudders, along with your body. Paris. Surely now he’s joking.

He opts instead to use the zipper rather than tearing it apart, his knuckles softly skimming your bare back as it becomes exposed to him. Inch by inch, cool air wraps around your skin. When he gets to halfway, his mouth begins following his hands. He nips at the bumps of your spine, biting down harder when he gets to the base. Your hands, which are still on Elijah’s shoulder, tighten as flames roll through your body.

Klaus’ hands slip around you, tugging this time at the front of your bodice and pulling it down to reveal your bare chest. He pushes the fabric down your stomach, trailing his fingertips over your ribs as you arch into his chest, a string of incoherent praises falling from your lips. You’re pretty sure you murmur his name somewhere in there though, because his chest rumbles against your back and, before you know it, he pulls you up to your feet.

“Klaus, what are you-” your words are cut short from the night, swallowed instead by lips which taste too much like oranges and rum for you to even consider trying to repeat yourself .

His tongue slips into your mouth, his hands flying into your hair, pushing it away from your face and using it to tilt your head to an angle that makes you see stars. The cold air sweeps over your breasts and you shiver again. It doesn’t last long before a pair of hands are sliding up your exposed sternum and over your chest, cupping your breasts. Kol’s cinnamon musk furls in your lungs as he pulls you into his now bare chest. His skin is hot against yours but you wouldn’t expect anything less from the flame made man.

Klaus detaches from your lips, pressing them once more against your swollen mouth before moving down your neck. He pulls your skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the dip in your throat. He courses a river down your front with his mouth, stopping to leave little love bites all over your collarbones and shoulders before heading south. He falls to his knees, shrugging his jacket off before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts.

You moan, loudly, and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging him harder against you, “god, you’re too good at that,” you roll your head against Kol’s shoulder as Klaus lips flow over your skin, finding your nipple between Kol’s fingers, “we should not be doing this.”

Another pair of hands, the last pair, pulls your face to a pair of lips, the last pair of lips, “Is that what you think, darling? Do you want us to stop?”

Elijah’s lips skim over yours as he speaks, sparks igniting with each touch. You don’t have to think about his question.

“No,” you press your mouth against his assertively, “please don’t stop. Never stop.”

With that Klaus pushes the rest of your dress off your body and, well, the rest of the details of that night remain between you, Kol, Klaus, Elijah, and the stars.

* * * * * * * * *

You lean your head against the cool leather of the seat, your eyes closed as the wind whips your hair behind you. You’ve never ridden in a convertible before but, much to the trend of Mikaelson fashion, it’s luxurious. Elijah slings his arm around your shoulders and you smile, cracking your eye open to glance at him. His hand is on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He looks peaceful. Happy. He looks over at you, tossing you a wink before turning back to the road. Butterflies flutter through your chest and you welcome them with open arms.

You glance in the rearview mirror, your grin growing when you see two sleeping men. Kol is leaning back, his mouth half open as soft snores fall from his mouth. You giggle quietly. Last night must have exhausted him. He wears his slacks still but now, instead of his jacket, he wears a wine colored hoodie. His hair is mussed and you swallow thickly, thinking back to how it felt between your hands.

You move to Klaus, shaking your head slightly to defuse your slowly heating skin. He, too, no longer wears his jacket but, unlike Kol, he only has a t-shirt on. His arms are folded under his head as he leans against the seat. His body is relaxed, his legs spread in front of him. You yawn looking at him, fighting the urge to crawl over your own seat and into his lap.

“Are you tired, love?” Elijah’s voice mixes with the wind, floating over you like music.

You meet his glance for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “yes but it’s nothing.”

“You should try to sleep,” his voice is slightly concerned, his eyes slipping over your bruised skin before turning back to the highway, “we still have about seven hours before we’re even in Louisiana.”

You stifle another yawn, pulling the sunglasses on your head over your eyes as the sun breaks over the trees blurring past you, “not yet, Eli. I don’t want to miss anything. I’ll sleep when we get there.”

You hear your phone beep from the bag at your feet but you ignore it. That’s another thing that you’ll wait until the Louisiana state line for. Instead you lift the book on your lap, your fingers skimming delicately over the words on the cover. Vonya i mir. Your heart warms as you open it to the first page, settling into the leather seat. Elijah looks over at you and chuckles, the sound even more musical than last night. This is going to be the easiest seven hours of your life.

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delugguk · 2 years

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hellooooo new layout so that means new era :0000 sjsjsksjak how are WE looking??? sexy me thinks😏

I've been working in so many fics hehe I like them sm so far so I think u guys will like them too 😊 mmmm it's also taking a while bc I want to figure out how to do 10k or 20k chapters ahjaajah like literally.. I dont know how people do it 🕴 I thought I write a lot but uh-uh.. I guess I was just lying to myself lmao but as I'm figuring out.. mm.. yeah. things are interesting right now 🤔

In other news, I've changed a lot of episode 4 for ITSJK series so I hope I can start working again on this soon.. mm.. later this month.. (I have to) bc fr... I know it's myself the one writing this but as an author.. I also want it LMAO even if it doesn't have any correlation (bc they're supposed to be random drabbles) if some of them connect, that's ok too tho lol ㅡ but regarding ITSJK series, I've been thinking about adding some other things like.. (oops, almost spoil😳) but yeah, I want to incorporate the first in the soop they did too but mm let me just think a little bit more about it 😁

another thing is.. I've been thinking of posting like mini spoilers? that's how you call it? Idk but it's like me posting what it'll be like my next ficㅡoh! like a preview! YES! that. I want to start posting previews hehe but I'm not so sure about that yet 😳

regarding my ask, I'm not taking requests at the moment but I do appreciate when you guys send me ideas! I might not reply to them right away but believe that it's bc I'll be probably be working on it (if I'm not working on it already). so yeah, I wanted to say that in case you guys think I was ignoring you :( I could never!! 😠😠😠😠 unless you're rude, that is.. lol

well thats everything I needed so say.. sorry for the rambling hehe. I can't help myself 🕴

oh! almost forgot, I made a side-blog for your feedbacks! I'll basically explain it there,, it's @delugguk-feed if u want to check it out hehe

#delurants

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losebetter · 3 years

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Hey! Not sure if you're still in the P5 Fandom, but I found a war on foxes and fell in love. If you weren't planning on continuing it, can I ask what you had planned for it?

oh! that’s fun for me -- i’m not really in any fandom at the moment, but i tend to drift all over and leave little messes of writing as i get into things. :D WotF is actually something i’d love to continue someday - i had about 10k of it written - but it’s one of those things where i just got too in my head about whether parts of it made sense, so like... it’s been rotting on my hard drive for years. oops. i’m so glad you’ve enjoyed what’s there!!

tbh it was just gonna be some soft character study and ensemble fic with shukita talkin’ through stuff, so basically a lot of what already exists... actually here, let me just give you part of a scene! maybe it’ll motivate me to finish it someday if i know someone has read past what i’ve published. :,D

if what you liked about the published stuff was Weird Teens, here’s a little more of that...?

When Yusuke arrives at their hideout the next day, Akira still isn't present, which kicks up a whole new series of pesky anxieties, his heart thudding nervously in his chest. He sets down his portfolio with an awkward wave to his companions, leaning it up against a wall and turning around to rest beside it with a quiet sigh.

He's fishing out his phone, mindful of the conversation already going on, but he looks up when he hears Ann tutting.

"That sounded rough," she says to him, slim eyebrows drawn in sympathy. "You okay, Yusuke?"

Embarrassed to have caught her attention, Yusuke pulls his hair nervously behind his ear. "I'm alright," he answers. He tries a small smile, but he can feel his brows still pinched in the middle, and gives it up as a lost cause. "Thank you, Ann. I just… had a long night."

"What," Ryuji interrupts, leaning into his space, "you?"

"I - yes?" Yusuke fights down a blush, suddenly faced with the reality of having to lie about exactly what had kept him up. "I was working on a painting for class last night. I - I was focused, and it was well past midnight when I had finally thought to check the time."

That's a believable enough tale, right? God, he suddenly has no idea. He hopes so.

It's apparently enough for Ryuji, who lets out a theatrical sigh so heavy it sinks his shoulders. "Maaaan. It sounded all mysterious until you said it was for school. How can you work on homework for that long?"

Yusuke feels trapped, unsure if he's supported his lie well enough, but thankfully Makoto steps in to rescue him before he accidentally oversells it.

"Some of us do value our studies, Ryuji," she says, turning a smile Yusuke's way that's only slightly uneasy. She has nothing to worry about - given that she's the newest member of the group, Yusuke happens to think she fits in better than he does.

"Yeah!" Ann chirps, always game to jump in and make fun of him. She twirls a loose piece of her hair where it falls over her shoulder. "I mean… doesn't it sound cooler than homework, anyway? Painting in a studio by moonlight, and all."

Yusuke reaches for the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "I have regular homework too, you know…" Homework he'd been steadfastly ignoring last night, in favor of rereading his message history with Akira until he'd had his words memorized.

We were so close on the train it was driving me crazy

i couldnt stop staring at your collarbones. You had raindrops on your throat and i wanted to lick them off so bad, i swear i almost did

"B - besides," he adds, trying to push the thoughts from his mind, "I can't help but be somewhat envious of you all, going to the same school and getting to see one another every day."

Yusuke?

Shit Yusuke im really sorry

Did you fall asleep…?

Yusuke?

"Akira!" Ryuji shouts, and Yusuke flinches from the force of his split-second fear that Ryuji can somehow read his mind -

But when he looks up, their fearless leader is jogging toward them, shoulderbag supported with one hand (as to not jostle Morgana) and a small package in the other. He slows a few feet away from their spot and waves, looking a little out of breath.

"Heya," Ryuji greets with a matching wave - Yusuke sees Makoto adjust her hair and stand a little straighter, and wonders about that: her deference to Akira as a leader even outside of the Metaverse, despite his age.

Akira doesn't notice, smiling sheepishly at all of them. "Hi guys. Sorry I'm late, Boss wouldn't let me leave until I - "

He doesn't continue, oddly enough, but his ears do go a fetching shade of red. What happens next may well have happened in slow motion, for how intently Yusuke watches it:

Ryuji gestures to Akira's hand and asks, what's that? at the same time Akira seems to realize he's still holding whatever the package is - and whatever it is, it makes the pale skin under his glasses glow with a rosy blush that can't be explained by his exertion.

As if on instinct, he reaches around to stuff the offending object into his bag, but that only makes Morgana splutter as his only air hole is covered up - and just as Ryuji steps closer, a shark with blood in the water, Morgana's high-pitched voice complains, watch it! and the little box comes sailing back out of the bag in a delicate arc, directly into Ryuji's waiting hands.

Akira looks betrayed, but he hasn't moved a muscle, completely frozen with his hand next to his bag - and he doesn't move until Ryuji's whooping abruptly halts, a lull in surrounding conversations allowing Yusuke to hear with perfect clarity when he blurts, "dude, are these condoms?"

Everything returns to speed at once, Akira flushed to the roots of his hair as he staggers into motion, reaching for the box. "Oh my god," he seethes, "Ryuji, shut up."

"There's no way - " Ann starts, then her eyes widen. "No wait, they totally - Akira, oh my god - "

"Stop!" he shrieks, looking humiliated, and Yusuke dodges away from his flailing arm as Ryuji dances away from it on his other side. "Ryuji - "

"Why do you have those?" Makoto asks - she sounds a little impressed, actually.

"Boss," Akira says, and grunts with another lunge that Ryuji crashes into Ann to avoid. "Shit, sorry - Sojiro stopped me on my way out and - Ryuji, seriously - wouldn't let me leave until I took 'em!"

"How big are they?" Ryuji asks, smug grin so wide Yusuke can see his canines.

"Who cares!" Akira whines, stopping for a moment to reorient - his hands curl into fists at his sides, upsetting his short coattails. "I'm gonna blow 'em up like balloons and tie 'em to you until you float away, I swear to - "

"Why would he," Yusuke starts, at the same time Ryuji looks up from the packaging and says, all of a sudden deathly serious, "wait, did you have a girl in your room, Akira?" and the rest of Yusuke's question dies in his throat.

If Sojiro thought - if Akira —

"Mercy," Yusuke breathes.

Ann seems to have noticed his reaction, her eyes calculating, and he watches with horror as she puts the pieces together when Akira whines, "no, idiot, the last person in my room was Yusuke - "

#shukita #ask #keepleaves #bark #bark: writing #someday i gotta go through and just publish all the stuff i have #even if it's not finished. lol #anyway ty again for the ask!!#hope this is sort of something u wanted

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roseclaw · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday

I forgot it was Wednesday until someone reminded me. Oops. I have very little to show for myself with the cyberpunk au, because I’ve been working in the maybe-for-a-fest-fic-but-probably-won’t-be. I thought it was going to be 10k, and it’s past that and barely into the story. So hopefully this one will be under 70k? Maybe? Please?

Here’s a little snippet without any context:

He called up Wei Ying.

“What?” Wei Ying mumbled sleepily. How was he asleep this early on a Friday night? “It’s almost midnight, Jiang Cheng. Are you dying?”

“You need to stop me from doing something incredibly stupid,” Jiang Cheng said.

“How stupid?” Wei Ying asked, sounding more awake.

“Very stupid.”

“Are you drunk?” Wei Ying asked.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said. “That’s why you need to stop me.”

“And you called me to stop you from doing something stupid, or are you inviting me along?”

“Wei Ying!”

“I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

#wip #mdzsww #Jiang Cheng

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thepixelelf · 3 years

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Favourite works of 2020

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! chose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want so we can spread the love and link each other’s awesome works!

Thank you for the tags Lina (@scriptura-delirus) and Kesya (@by-moonflower)!

Oops, it’s past midnight. I guess this is just my way of welcoming in the new year!

5. Dream of Me When You’re Awake - SKZ Seungmin

I’m honestly surprised that this is number 5 out of all my choices. I love this story so much, from the characterization to the world-building... I just had so much fun thinking about how I wanted to put the storyline together and figuring out how Seungmin would react to a place like Wonderland. It’s also one of my longer works among four that are above 10k words, and that means a lot to me for some reason. For me, a word count means that I let myself get carried by the story and that the words almost wrote themselves, considering I’m much more of a short story type person. DoMWYA doesn’t have that many notes, but it’s still one of my faves either way.

4. #39 At a high school reunion - DAY6 Jae

Ah, of course, one of my favourites has to be a fic based off my all-time favourite tv show Psych. If any of you guys don’t know, my sense of humour is completely revolved around the first few seasons of that show. Seriously. My sister and I are both the only ones who get each other’s jokes. Anyways, I thought Jae really fit the concept, so when I got a request for him with this exact prompt, I was so excited. I think I wrote this short fic in a few hours, I was so into it. ALSO this was the first fic of mine that Kesya read and I kid you not I woke up to her notifications with an audible gasp. I’m still shocked we’re mutuals to this day because wow I saw her as a whole ass inspiration for a while before I even started writing. Wait I’m supposed to talk about the fic uuHHH yes I like it a lot. Fun banter and yearning all in one. Plus Psych.

3. Hood - TBZ

Yes this smau is ongoing but hot damn I’m loving it so far. It’s just so chaotic I can barely keep up and I’m the one writing the damn thing. I know lot’s of people are being silent readers too, so I’m not really worried about note count when it comes to individual parts. Crazy though that the masterlist is almost at 200! I think Hood has some of my best attempts at comedy, and I’m excited to continue writing it in the coming year

2. The Recovery Files - SKZ

This is a series, but whoa, it’s like this 🤏 close to being my top favourite fic of the year. I had so much fun with the concept, and like I’ve said before, I loved writing just dialogue. Spoken word in writing is definitely my strong suit, so working with it the way I did was so interesting. Honestly can I just make all my fics like this from now on? No narration, just dialogue please. Anyways read this please I beg. You won’t regret it I promise.

1. Bluff and Nonsense - SVT Hoshi

And, of course, Bluff and Nonsense comes out on top. I don’t even have that much to say about it honestly, I just love it. Like damn, I didn’t know I could write something so heart wrenching yet... subtle. I’m not sure anyone reading would call it “subtle” exactly, but I took a lot of care in the actions of Soonyoung and MC. Like, yes, I said some things outright, but it was the little things the characters did that I really liked. The way Soonyoung held MC’s hand even though no one was watching, not even MC........ wow I even love remembering it

#tag games

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singulari-taee · 4 years

Text

The Danger in Duality | 08

BTS X Reader

CW: Graphic depictions of violence and sexually explicit content

“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students.”

__________________________________________________

“Well, that was depressing,” Hoseok said after the call dropped.

Defeat washed over the room.

“What are the chances?” Namjoon asked. His fingers clasped in front of his face, expression etched in deep thought, “20 miles? That’s nothing.”

“Didn’t Squad 8 have something similar happen to them a few years ago, but with a different group?” Taehyung asked.

“Yeah but it was just a small rivalry, and Squad 8 handled it in a couple weeks. Anti or whoever keeps targeting The Academy’s squads...and they’re so close,” he said, “The Academy is the biggest organization of it’s kind in the world, so my guess is that Anti set up camp so close to make some sort of territory war.”

“But why do we have to be the ones caught in the middle?” Jimin said.

“Right, we literally could have been stationed anywhere,” you huffed.

“Well, since we’re the best squad, and Grandpa kind of prioritises us, he wanted us closer to home...like regional guards I guess,” Taehyung said.

“So essentially...nepotism came back to bite us in the ass,” you said.

“It wasn’t nepotism!” Namjoon began to fight, but he shared a look with Taehyung and didn’t continue.

“Well then why not start by targeting us if we’re the closest?” Hoseok asked.

“Maybe they were using the other squads as practice before they got to us,” Namjoon shrugged, “or maybe it was just a warning.”

Silence.

“I can’t do this right now,” Seokjin sighed, carding a hand through his hair as he walked to his room, “The mission is tomorrow and I gotta prepare.”

“Hey! Are you still watching the game with us tonight?” Hoseok called after him.

“Maybe,” he shut the door behind him.

“I’m gonna head out too,” you said.

“Woah, I thought you wanted to watch it!” Hoseok whined.

“Sorry, Seokjin’s right though. I need to prepare for tomorrow and I still have a shit ton of homework.”

“I’ll pass too,” Jungkook said as he and Taehyung followed you to the door.

“Oh not you too!” Hoseok threw his arms up.

“You know I don’t even like basketball,” Jungkook said, “Damn, Seokjin still has my calculator.”

Jungkook jogged to the oldest’s room and flung open the door.

Seokjin stood in nothing but boxers in the middle of the room. He was quick to cover himself as he let the profanity fly.

“Fuck are you doing?! Ever heard of knocking, you little shit?! Get out!”

He pushed Jungkook to the door, but the youngest pushed back effortlessly as he made his way to the calculator on the desk.

“Oops. Forgot this.” he said, “And you know how it works. If you really didn’t want anyone to come in, you would have locked it.”

“That’s not how this works! It’s my room!”

“What are you doing anyway?”

“Changing- you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Move!” he shoved the youngest out of the room and locked the door.

“Yeah, so...I’m gonna go,” you said. You spared a glance back at Yoongi, who’s eyes followed you as you walked out of the apartment.

Jungkook and Taehyung were close behind. The sun had almost fully set, and it stretched over the horizon in a spray of oranges and reds. You neared the fork in the road, an indication to go your separate ways.

“Hey,” Jungkook said, “When the hell can I get that SIG-Sauer P228 off your hands?”

You scoffed, “I still can’t believe it's not too basic for you. That’s, like, a 3rd week of training level pistol.”

“No, what? Shut up! What do you even know?”

“I know that it’s basic.”

“Basic?! You’ve got the special limited holiday edition! It’s got the gold two-tone finish and the indented grip. Oh fuck and the light-weight. Ugh-,” he shook his head as he looked up at the sky, smiling. “And you promised!”

“You know he’s not gonna let it go now,” Taehyung warned.

“Okay, whatever fine, just come by and get it.”

Jungkook turned and you stuck your hand out, “What?”

“Woah, not right now.”

“Not now?! Then when?!” his arms flapped at his side, making him look like a tantrum-throwing child.

You shrugged and walked on, “Not now.”

He called after you, each word followed by a curse. It was true, you had promised that you would give him the gun soon. You rarely used it and when you told him you had it collecting dust in the back of your closet he all but ripped your head off, going on about how you didn’t respect the craft and how he’d save it from the likes of you (whatever the hell that meant). There was just no way you could deal with the company now, and the sooner you were back to your room the better.

As you neared your apartment, you saw a familiar car in the parking lot. The warning was all you needed to mentally prepare yourself for your roommate.

Turning your key in the lock, you pushed inside. Luna sat on the sofa, focused on her laptop.

“Hey!” she chirped, “How was your day?”

“Hey,” you nodded, “Okay, just stressful as usual.”

“Aww I’m sorry to hear that. Wanna come study with me?” she asked, patting the spot next to her.

You looked down the hall. The sanctuary of your room was just so close.

“Ah, damn. I’m just really tired, I don’t think I can focus right now.”

“Oh...I see,” she said in a low voice. The disappointment was clear, “It’s just that we never really see each other or hang out. We live together but I don’t really feel like I know you.”

And you never really will, you thought.

“I know,” you played with your fingers, “Tonight's just not good for me. But we can hang out soon. I promise. I’ll...try and make time for it.”

“Really? Okay! Sounds good,” she smiled, “Oh, and I already made dinner, there’s some left on the stove if you get hungry.”

With a thanks you went to your room, shut the door, and threw yourself on the bed. The blank ceiling didn’t help to clear your mind, just made it easier for your thoughts to race out of control.

It was all just so much.

Being hunted.

Being on top of the food chain, you never knew what it was like to be the prey. There was nothing good about feeling so exposed, especially when their den was supposedly 20 or so miles away. Why did it have to be so close? You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched even within the confines of your mind and home. The news was messing with you.

Tomorrow’s mission.

It would be easy, but you hadn’t been on a unit mission in a while, and there was always more pressure when the whole squad wasn’t present. It would only be three of you, and only two would even enter the scene at all. Shouldn’t they have mixed up the skill-set and gotten someone else other than him? Hoseok would have been great on a stealth mission like this. And why did it have to be Yoongi of all people?

Yoongi.

The confusion you felt throughout the day came rushing back again. You couldn’t understand the reason behind his thought process. He was always so hard to read and today was no different. He never seemed like the casual ‘come over and let’s just chill’ type. He always needed his space, and given your past relationship you were always more than willing to give that to him. But with your new arrangements, having him want to see you beyond lust muddied the waters. Yes, you were friends. As strange as you liked to show it, you had been so for years. But never had you made an effort to spend time alone unless it was for work. Something about it felt wrong- even more so than the hookups. It felt like a new boundary was being crossed, one that was even scarier than the first.

But god how you wanted him.

He looked oddly beautiful watching the film earlier. Seeing him in gruesome violence for years, the delicate nature of the scene was enough to take you aback. There was just something about his gentleness....

You caught yourself. The corners of your lips shifted up without approval and you wiped it clean.

No. He only wanted this because you’re the only option. It was a safe investment- not because he felt anything else. And neither did you. Nope. You couldn’t. It was against the rules.

You slapped your hand against the bed, and pushed yourself towards the bathroom for a shower. As the water ran, you stripped down in front of the mirror. Your naked body was littered with nearly invisible scratches and bruises- the norm considering your routine. You couldn’t recall the last time you saw your skin clear of any marks.

Your phone buzzed against the counter top, a sign of a text message.

Picking it up, you noticed the speed of your heart change.

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

Yoongi: You get home okay?

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

You rolled your eyes. As if you couldn’t handle making your way home “okay”.

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

You: No

Yoongi: ???

You: Some guys told me they’d give me candy if I got in their van so 💁

idk where we’re goin tho.

just cruisin rn.

Yoongi: Stop

You: Lmaooo take a joke

Yoongi: Today was fun

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

The butterflies fluttered in your stomach a bit.

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

You: Yeah great movie choice btw

Yoongi:🙄 wyd rn?

You: About to get in the shower

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

You waited for his response, but after a minute you sat the phone back down and walked towards the tub. You heard another buzz and doubled back to check.

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

Yoongi: Send me a picture

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

You stared at your screen, rereading the words to make sure you weren’t mistaken.

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

You: Of…?

Yoongi: You dumbass

Before your shower

You: so nudes

Yoongi: Yeah

I wanna see you…

But you don’t have to

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

You mulled over an answer. There was something about the idea of teasing him from afar that made your stomach knot with desire. You crossed your legs tighter. He had all day during the movie to “see you”. Why choose when you’re back home and unable to touch you to ask?

You positioned yourself in front of the mirror, trying to find the best angle. Sure you had taken pictures of yourself for yourself, but never with the intention of anyone else ever seeing them.

You twisted your body to see the curves in the reflection, a hand over your head for a better view of your bare chest. Though this was new, you weren’t stupid to the rules- never show your face. With the camera placed to block everything from the chin up, you heard the shutter as you posed.

Click.

You switched angles, leaning forward with your boobs pushed together.

Click.

You sat on the counter, and turned to get a view of your perched ass in the reflection.

Click.

You went back to check them, and you couldn’t help the satisfaction. These were hot. So hot you nearly turned yourself on.

Lucky bastard, you thought

After selecting the images, your finger hovered over the send button. With a deep breath, you bit the bullet and pressed it. Your anxiety wouldn’t allow you to wait for his response, so you put your phone down and hopped into the shower. You would see his reaction when you got out.

_________________

Yoongi hadn’t left his spot on the couch since you left. He spared glimpses at his phone, waiting for you to respond. Every moment that he got nothing, he cursed himself. He was being too thirsty and freaked you out. No way you would agree to this. He didn’t know what made him type out something so blatantly horny, he was embarrassed. Maybe he should apologize. Way to push his luck and make it awkward.

He was just so out of his mind after the assignment, he could barely think straight. He needed a distraction, anything to occupy his mind and not send him down the rabbit hole that was his unchecked fury. It just made no sense.

There was finally a vibration on his lap, and he carefully looked down to his notifications.

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

[3 attachments]

_______: Delete them from our messages after.

I expect you to kiss the ground I walk on after these. You’re welcome.

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

He opened the message and caught a glimpse of the pictures. He sucked in a quick breath and threw his phone down.

He looked around the room. The others weren’t paying him any mind. Yoongi slowly picked the phone back up and took in the pictures in all their glory.

His breathing went shallow as he scrolled and zoomed on the screen. They weren’t just any crude pictures- there was an art to it that made him unable to look away. The curves of your body in the faint glow of the bathroom was delicious. Your body. God, your body. The longer he stared, he found something else to marvel over. He was glad he couldn’t see your face, because the thought of a smirk on your lips was enough to make his imagination run wild. He realized his mouth was hanging open and hurried to fix it. His pants were suddenly tighter, and he shifted to hide the sudden erection that was painfully fighting for his attention.

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

Yoongi: goddamn.

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

It sounded stupid, he knew that. But was there a right way to respond to something like that? No words or emojis would suffice. He was borderline salivating.

She told him to delete them after. Right. He still had to do that.

As Yoongi’s finger floated over the button, he found the deed harder to carry out than expected. The thought of sending them to the trash to never be seen again didn’t sit right with him.

Instead he found himself saving them to his Cloud app. They would be safe there, hidden amongst his thousands of other photos and documents. You had only said to delete them from your messages to not leave a trace, so this was still technically okay. He couldn’t think about the morality of it for too long or otherwise his conscience might disagree.

He quickly deleted the pictures from your texts and closed his eyes.

“You alright over there?” Seokjin asked, “You’ve been quiet since the mission assignment. But not, like, normal quiet.”

“Yeah, just have a headache,” Yoongi lied, carefully adjusting his throbbing dick in his pants.

“Hey the game’s starting!” Hoseok called, and the boys turned their attention to the TV.

While the announcer went on the normal spiel, Yoongi’s mind couldn’t escape the photos. For minutes he fought the urge to check his phone, but the growing boner had other plans. One more peek wouldn’t hurt, he argued.

He went to his Cloud, and found the 3 images resting at the top. He clicked them one by one, eyes caressing every pixel. His dick fought even harder against his underwear, begging for his assistance.

The fever of the game came to a peak when all the boys erupted in cheers. Yoongi jumped in his seat, seeing the others yell as the players ran across the screen.

It was nearing impossible to think. Yoongi suddenly stood up from the couch. He positioned his phone before the tent in his pants as he walked out of the living room.

“Where you goin? It’s just getting good!” Jimin called.

Yoongi hurried to his bathroom and opened the pictures again. He couldn’t undo his pants fast enough, and when he finally sprang free and wrapped his fingers around his cock he let out a shuttered breath. He stroked himself as he took in the pictures and everything they had to offer. Seeing the space between your thick thighs made precum dribble to his knuckles. He wanted to take you in the shower and feel you for real. He stroked himself faster.

The way you squeezed one of your breasts in your hands caused him to hold in a moan. The final picture was his favorite. The arch of your back as it led to your ass made his heart beat violently. He envisioned the time he fucked you from the back. The view of it bouncing back on him as you were pressed against the telescope made his eyes flutter close as he felt himself unwinding. He almost missed the toilet paper as he came moments later.

Yoongi took a deep breath and looked at his reflection. He was flushed and drained. It took every ounce of energy and self-respect to fix himself and return to the living room.

“Took you long enough, you missed the best free-throw of the season,” Namjoon said through a mouthful of pizza.

Yoongi flopped back on the sofa next to Hoseok. He felt dirty, like they could all smell his shame and fresh orgasm.

“Finally a commercial. Their entire defense needs to be benched...dude, are you looking at porn while I’m sitting right here?!” Hoseok screeched.

“What-?” Out of habit, Yoongi had gone to look at his phone again. But upon unlocking it, the image of your ass covered the entire screen.

Yoongi scrambled to close the app, but his fingers couldn’t work fast enough. In his frenzy he fumbled and dropped the phone onto the cushions.

“Hey, don’t be stingy,” Hoseok said, swooping in and kicking the phone off the sofa before Yoongi could grab it. He leaped away to put distance between them, eyes going wide, “Damn. This isn’t porn. The shitty quality and angle is pointing to personal nudes.”

Yoongi leaped off the sofa and went towards Hoseok.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Jimin said. Hoseok threw the phone across the room, and he plucked it from the air over Yoongi’s head.

Jimin whistled, “Shit...now this is how you take nudes.”

“Jimin. I’m not fucking playing with you give it b-”

“Wait, there’s more!” he cackled, scrolling through the others. He didn’t even look at Yoongi as he evaded him, jumping over the sofa and coffee table. He paused, eyes going wide as he swallowed. “Goddamn. She’s fine. What did you do to deserve nudes like this? Hey, look at this.”

Jimin jumped over to where Seokjin and Namjoon were standing. The oldest shifted to get a better look and Namjoon took his glasses off.

“Sheesh…” Seokjin’s mouth felt suddenly dry, “No wonder why you weren’t watching the game!”

Namjoon licked his lips, “Who’s even sending you these?”

Yoongi stormed over, but the leader took an instinctive step back, “Don’t fucking worry about it. Namjoon, give it back.”

Namjoon looked at the photo and then back at Yoongi, forehead creased with questions. Jimin snatched the phone from his hands.

“Yoongi got a girlfwend?” he asked in a baby voice.

“Give. It. Back.”

He didn’t dare go to Jimin again, he knew he’d only pass it to Hoseok.

“I mean he didn’t say no,” Seokjin added.

“Aww, why so bashful?” Hoseok doubled over in laughter.

Yoongi stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched by his side. He was nearly shaking with anger, and he met eyes with Namjoon who was the only one not howling like an idiot.

“Jimin, chill out. Hand him the phone back. The game is back on,” Namjoon said.

“Fuck the game, this is the best thing to happen all day!”

“Give it back or I’ll hang your entrails from the ceiling fan. Every single one of you," Yoongi seethed.

“Oh, be realistic. You can’t kill all of us,” he rolled his eyes.

Yoongi reached into the drawer under the coffee table and pulled out a trailing point combat knife.

“I’ll start with you,”

Jimin squinted, “Bullshit.”

Without hesitation, he threw the blade and made it land squarely in the opposite wall. Jimin touched his ear, and then looked down at his hand to see specks of blood from where Yoongi had clipped him.

Jimin’s shoulders dropped and after a moment of consideration he tossed the phone over.

“Learn to take a joke, asshole.”

Yoongi’s cheeks burned red, and the others cleared the way as he stomped back to his room and slammed the door.

____________________

You woke up when your head hit the car window.

“Shit,” you breathed, holding the sore spot in your groggy haze.

“Could you hit any more potholes, Jin? Fuck…” Yoongi cursed, sleep coating his voice.

“Wow, finally some company,” Seokjin said, “You’re acting like I made the damn roads, stop complaining.”

The three of you had begun your journey a little over an hour ago. Trees whizzed by your windows, and metropolitan skylines were slowly replaced with endless meadows and forests.

“Just when I thought we’d seen every inch of this region,” you said, “we end up in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.”

Seokjin snorted, fiddling with the screen on his dashboard, “Heads up, we should be arriving in 5 minutes.”

You went to your weapons case and strapped a few knives and a glock to your belt. From the passenger seat, you looked in the rearview mirror back at Yoongi. His earlier words had been his only ones all day. Even when you had been picked up for the mission, he barely spared you more than a head nod. He sat in his seat, looking out the window at the passing greenery, unblinking.

You nudged Seokjin and tilted your head towards the man in the back.

Seokjin shrugged, ‘He’s been like that all day,’ he mouthed.

He didn’t look upset, but more pensive than anything. As if he was trapped in his thoughts without a way to escape.

“Alright we’re here,” Seokjin stopped the car on the side of a desolate road in the middle of the forest.

“Uh...where’s the cabin?” you asked.

“I forgot no one checks the mission coordinates anymore but me,” he sighed, “Well, this is as far as the road will let me go. My GPS is saying the cabin is about half a mile that way.”

He pointed through the thick trees at nothing,

“So you want us to...walk.”

“I know it’s not ideal, but it's not that far.”

The distance wasn’t your issue. From the look of the sky, the sun would be setting in a few minutes, and you would rather not walk through the woods in pitch blackness.

The three of you stepped out of the van. Seokjin grabbed a few drones from the trunk and after pressing some buttons, released them into the sky toward the cabin. He honestly hated the drones, but because the targets likely didn’t have a security system to be hacked, he had to survey the mission with what devices he had.

“I’ll be checking in,” he waved as you both began the hike, “You got this, piece of cake like always.”

The leaves crunched under your shoes as you walked in silence for a couple hundred meters. The darkness of night was beginning to catch up to you. You felt the animals scurry past your feet in their haste.

You turned to Yoongi, face overcasted by shadows.

“You okay?” you asked, “You’ve been quiet.”

He didn’t say anything, and you wondered if he would respond at all until he finally muttered.

“I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind,” he looked straight ahead.

“Is it classes? The mission? It should be an easy one like Seokjin and Mr. Kim said,” you pried.

“I just can’t wait for the day to be over.”

You nodded, “I understand. I was wondering why they dispatched us for this mission, you know? I know that they sometimes like to test different combinations, but having two specialized combat positions for such a small call doesn’t make much sense to me.”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

“You know The Academy though, it’s probably just some sort of test.”

“Well then that’s pretty fucked up.”

You waited on him to elaborate, but the conversation drifted to another hush.

“Well...if you ever want to talk about it, just know I’m here if you feel like sharing.”

“‘kay.”

After a few minutes of painful silence, you both saw a light in the distance. You slowed down, taking in the neglected cabin. The wood was covered in moss, hanging together by a few bolts. It appeared to have been forgotten amongst the woods. You couldn’t imagine life inside.

“She’s a beauty, right?” you said, hidden in the shadows behind the trees, “Jin, we made it.”

“Great. I can see you both. Look up,” you glanced up at the night sky, and a drone came to hover over your heads.

Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, “So there’s three we need to take out. You sure they’re in there?”

“I don’t see anyone, but the lights are on. In the call, Mr. Kim said that they hadn’t left in a few days. From the notes, they just went in with a big crate and haven’t even gone outside since.”

A shadow suddenly went past the window, so quick it was almost unnoticeable.

“I saw someone,” he said.

You checked the weapons on your belt, “You ready?”

He nodded, “Make it clean, make it quick. Let’s go.”

You stalked towards the cabin, mere silhouettes in the dark.

“That window looks easy to open-” you whispered, but Yoongi was already making his way to the back door. You stopped, confused by his overly eager choice, but rushed to catch up. When you approached the door, Yoongi reared back and kicked the flimsy wood in. It burst open loudly, and you both charged into what appeared to be the kitchen. One of the drones flew inside. A man stood at the stove, bread in his hand as he turned to you both.

“Now, wait what the f-”

You recognized his face from the photos. Yoongi began to move towards him, but you were already in motion. With a few quick strides you closed the distance. You took the blade from your belt and made a fluid slash across the throat. It was seamless with no splatters- an angle you had worked to master for some time now. His body slumped down, joining the shadows casted on the wooden floor.

Yoongi looked down at the body, “I had it, you know.”

“Didn’t know you had claimed him, I was just trying to get it done. I’ll let you take the next one,” you said carefully.

He took in the nearly empty interior. No one else was in sight, and it was quieter than expected. You heard some faint motion close by, though it was hard to pinpoint.

You both slowly rounded the corner to see a door with steps leading downwards.

“Pat, hurry the hell up! We’re gonna start without you!” a voice called from the basement. Soon after came the sound of whimpers and muffled screams.

Footsteps led up towards you as someone climbed the stairs.

“God dammit, every time. Get down here!” said a man with a buzz cut. He froze when he saw you at the top of the stairs. Before he could react, Yoongi planted a foot in his chest, making the man fall and tumble down the stairs.

You rushed down, stepping over his groaning body at the base of the steps.

“Why wouldn’t you just take him out…then?” you began to ask your squad mate. Your hand was on your belt, ready to take out the man at the bottom of the stairs when you turned to see the rest of the basement instead. You felt your blood run cold at the sight before you.

In the basement was the 3rd target, a ceremonial mask covering his eyes. He was fiddling with the restraints of a woman sitting naked on the floor. They sat in the middle of a circle painted by what you had assumed to be blood.

“What the fuck?!” the masked man blurted. He jumped up, running towards a shotgun in the corner of the room. Before he could reach it you threw one of your knives. It landed in his hand, pinning him to the wall.

Yoongi stood by the steps, immobile with wide eyes. You followed his gaze to the woman. Her eyes had been covered with a scarf and mouth gagged with a rag. She cried, balling up on the floor to hide from the new unseen horrors she heard. On her wrist, a red circle glistened under the lights.

“Seokjin...the targets have a victim here,” you said tightly.

“What?!” the drone came down the stairs and paused next to you, “Oh god. The crate. She was here this whole time.”

“What the fuck do we do?!”

“I’ll call the police.”

“Police?! This can’t be a job for the Cleanup Crew?!”

“I’m already dispatching the cops. This wasn’t a part of the plan but they’ll take care of her. Just finish the job and get the hell out of there!”

Yoongi’s breathing was shallow. His legs shook under him as if they would give out at any minute. His vision never broke from the woman, eyes zeroed in with a laser focus.

Behind him there was a quick motion. The man at the stairs had picked up an axe, ready to swing at your squad mate. Yoongi didn’t move, unaware of his surroundings.

“Yoongi, watch out!” Seokjin warned.

You reached for the gun in your belt and fired two shots to the man’s forehead.

The shots snapped Yoongi out of his haze. He jumped, and turned to see the body tumble behind him. He looked at you in awe.

“I…” he tried, lost for words.

The final man had pulled the knife from his hand and slumped against the wall.

“Who are you?! W-who sent you?!” his voice shook.

Yoongi faced him slowly, jaw taut and far away. He advanced across the floor, closing the distance between them as the masked man screamed to spare his life.

Yoongi crouched down, eye level with him. He pulled the mask away, exposing a thin face and pleading eyes. Yoongi went for the long knife at his side.

“Please. Please, I’m begging you…”

Yoongi plunged the knife into the target’s chest. It went deep, piercing his heart. The man’s eyes went out of focus as life left him. Yoongi pulled the stained knife out, but didn’t place it back in his belt. He lurched the weapon forward again and again, stabbing so many times you lost count. He grunted with every dig long after the man had stilled. Crimson slowly spread across the man’s white shirt.

“Woah, stop!” you screamed. You grabbed his arm and pushed him back, “What the hell are you doing? It’s over!”

Yoongi’s face twisted in pain. He was shaking, looking at the body infront of him with a sense of stunning realization. Time caught up to him and the room realigned in his vision. He closed his eyes to collect himself.

He dropped the knife to grab his head.

The woman on the floor continued to cry, hyperventilating as she tried to force words through the gag. You moved over to her and she flinched. She looked to be in her late 20s- not much older than you if you had to guess. You racked your brain for a solution- you couldn’t take off her blindfold because then she would see your faces. If the cops were coming, you didn’t want to involve her with the repercussions of that, especially when The Academy would be involved. Though at the same time, you didn’t want to leave her stranded and tied up in the house with three dead bodies.

“Um, you guys, the police are here. They just pulled up about 100 meters behind me and are walking to the cabin now,” Seokjin said, “Get out while you can.”

“Shit,” you breathed. You slowly went to grab the rag from the woman’s mouth, and she craned away, “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Please get me out of here. Please...” she cried.

“Okay, we will! They can’t hurt you anymore. The police are coming. Just let me untie you first,” you went to undo the rope, but paused, “But when I do I need you to stay calm and leave your blindfold on.”

“L-leave it on?” she asked, head whipping from side to side in her confusion.

“Trust me. If you can’t do that, I can’t untie you.”

“Okay,” she said, weakly.

With one glide of your knife she was free. She touched at the mark at her arm and her face contorted in agony at the burn. You could only imagine her suffering those few days.

“We gotta go!” you called to Yoongi, helping the young woman to her feet, “Now!”

Yoongi eventually pushed himself off the floor with unstable legs. He reached for a blanket hanging from the back of a chair, and handed it to you. You wrapped it around her as you guided her quickly up the stairs and past the men on the floor.

“Wh-who are you? Oh, god. Where are we going?” she struggled to hold herself up, and you and Yoongi supported most of her weight as you walked through the cabin.

“We’re just going outside,” you finally made it to the front porch, and she flinched when she was met with the night chill. You sat her down. Two drones glided outside and into the trees.

“So what now?” Yoongi whispered uneasily, “Do we just leave her here?”

“He said they’re on their way. She-” in the dark you heard rustling and voices. They weren’t too close, but earshot for you was close enough. You bent to her level, “Hey, the police are almost here. We’re gonna leave. Just...don’t uncover your eyes until we do.”

“Wait, no where am I? Don’t leave,” she pleaded.

“We’re just on the porch. We have to. I’m sorry.”

She moved her head to follow your voices, “Thank you. Thank you so much-”

“I see it!” called an officer in the distance.

With a final rub to her shoulder, you and Yoongi jumped off the porch and bolted into the dark forest. Looking back, you saw a group of officers run to the porch to assess her. She had taken off her blindfold and was looking around in a daze.

More officers were coming, and you both tried to run in silence while not being seen by their flashlights. You could barely see your hand in front of your face, the moon above your only guide. You ran hard, trying to not bump into trees while also checking the constellations above for the right directions.

Suddenly a flashlight crossed your vision, and Yoongi yanked you behind a tree.

You worked to catch your breath and listened for the officers to pass.

“Are we going the right way?” you whispered to him. He didn’t answer, instead looking at you with the same spacey, glazed stare from earlier, “What? And what the hell was that about back there anyway?”

“You saved my life…” he responded, his voice dreamy. His eyebrows joined together, relaying a focus that he didn’t seem to have. He seemed far away, but appeared to truly see you for the first time all night.

“Yeah, but Yoongi that wasn’t the question.”

Using his grip on your arm, he pulled you into him. His lips crashed onto yours in a messy, hard kiss. His hand went to tangle in your hair, knuckles meeting the root. You fought to understand in your haze. He grabbed your waist and tugged your body closer. You could feel the metal of the knives on his belt at your stomach, and it snapped you back.

You pushed his hand down and moved your face away.

“Yoongi, wh-”

Just then, there was a whiz above your heads as a drone flew above and past you. Both of you watched as it disappeared in the direction of Seokjin’s car. You met eyes again, but this time his expression mirrored the panic you felt.

“Oh no...” he muttered.

You didn’t want to think too much, only make it back to the car. If you really assessed the situation in your head, you knew you’d crumble.

You burst out running again, following the drone all the way until you saw the road. It was lit with shining police lights, and you finally saw the van hidden in the line of trees far ahead. When you reached it, you yanked open the door and threw yourselves inside.

“Finally!” Seokjin put the car in drive and whipped the wheel back out onto the road. As he fiddled with the navigation, you watched for any differences in his behavior. He sighed, “That was not supposed to happen.”

“What?” you blurted.

“What? The girl! Was she okay?”

“Okay? No. But the police got her,” you groaned, remembering, “The police. We called the fucking police to the sight of our mission.”

The Academy's Cleanup Crew always came after your missions to get rid of the mess and any evidence the squad may have left behind. The targets always simply “disappeared”. So calling the police to the scene before Cleanup could handle it was a nightmare in it’s own.

“I know, I know. It seems bad and it’s going to be a headache for me later but we had to do it for her. The Academy will probably have to make contact with local law enforcement again to cover our tracks, but they shouldn’t get her involved too much.”

“I really hope so,” you said.

“She...didn’t see you right?” he asked. You shook your head, “Good. That would have been a whole other problem.”

You used the rearview mirror to look at Yoongi. He was expressionless, and Seokjin followed your gaze, “Yoongi, you okay back there? Back at the mission…” you held your breath, “...it seemed like you lost focus. It was a bit of an...overkill, you think?”

You could tell Seokjin was trying to tread lightly. Though you wondered the same, as neither had seen such pointed aggression and bloodlust on a mission. Killing was always matter of fact- one and done. Never something to revel and bask in for too long.

“I just forgot where I was. That’s all,” was his reply.

The landscape turned into city, and Seokjin cursed when he saw his gas was low. He pulled into a dim gas station, and fiddled with a screen on a computer. It showed the woods and the cabin, and you watched as you stormed in after Yoongi kicked open the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Just making sure the drones picked up and recorded the feed from the mission,” Seokjin responded, absentminded as he clicked around.

“You recorded it?” you tried to remain calm, but you heard your voice climb an octave, “I thought you just watched in the moment.”

“Yeah I do but I can’t catch everything.”

“So...do you record with all of the drones?”

He snorted, “Duh, I use them to track patterns for my logs, you know that. And with the police involved this time, this footage will be really useful to me and The Academy later.”

“Of course,” you said, “Jin, I really need to be back home soon, could we hurry.”

He gave you a look, “Uh, sure.”

Seokjin got out to pump the gas and you looked between him and the monitor.

“Hey! While you’re out, could you go inside the convenience store and get me some chips or something. I’m really hungry.”

He scoffed “Who do you think I am? No. Get it yourself.”

“Please! You’re already outside. The mission took a lot out of me. I didn’t eat all day,” you begged, “Please, I’ll love you forever.”

He took a deep breath, “What flavor?”

“Surprise me.”

He muttered to himself as he walked toward the store. You shot to action, pulling down any tabs to find the right button.

“Fuck, do you think he saw us?” Yoongi leaned on your seat to get a view of the screen.

“I doubt it. He’s acting too normal.”

“Try that tab!” he reached over you, pointing. Your unease mounted with every word and direction he gave you, “No, not that one! Okay, try that one. Shit, he’s paying at the counter, hurry-”

“Yoongi!” you exploded, “Shut the fuck up!”

“I’m trying to help-”

“You did enough, don’t you think?! Jesus, just...I’ve got it! Give me a break. For fuck’s sake!”

He sat back down. After exhausting your options, you found a video file with the day’s date on it. You hit ‘Delete all’ and suddenly the video on the screen disappeared. You checked the trash and found nothing. You went to any other obvious folders in the confusing layout of his computer and came up empty.

You looked up to see Seokjin walking towards the car and you quickly restarted the laptop.

He opened the door and dropped two bags into your lap, “I didn’t know if you liked sour cream and onion or honey butter so I got both. Hey, what happened to my computer?”

“Thanks! Oh, it just restarted out of nowhere. It said something about needing an update and then just turned off.”

“What? No…” when it rebooted he went to his files. He searched in silence for a bit, face etched in confusion, “No, no, no. The footage from today’s mission is gone!”

“Huh? How?” you feigned, going to check for yourself.

“How does that even happen? I was sure I had it saved.”

“Damn, I’m sorry,” you said, “Is that the only copy you have?”

“Unfortunately. This day couldn’t get any worse.”

He pulled off from the gas station and continued back to the city. The whole time, ranting about his shitty computer and The Academy needing to give him another version. You grunted in agreement, and Yoongi remained silent the rest of the ride home.

___________________

After dodging her for months, it finally happened.

She couldn’t be more ecstatic when you said you were free for the night, jumping into action immediately with ideas of how to spend your time. It wasn’t like you had much else to do.

A few days had passed since the last mission in the woods, and you’d like to think you were doing a good job avoiding your squad members. You didn’t have anything against all of them, but being in their presence after the night you had was the last thing you wanted. It was rare to not hang out at least every other day, but the time alone was needed. You saw them in class and went straight home after despite their questions and protests. More and more unread and unanswered texts were piling up in your phone. You knew everything was alright- if they really needed you, you would know. You knew them too well. According to the text previews, you picked up that they went to grab drinks at the bar about an hour ago. A part of you wished you had gone, but the other knew the break was needed. So on this break, you finally gave Luna a shot. Spending the entire evening with the girl you hadn’t had a conversation longer than 5 minutes with was beyond your comfort zone.

Luna’s idea was to bake dessert. Consequently, you spent the time shuffling around each other in the small kitchen as she led the whole operation. She did most of the work, and you handed her ingredients as she rattled off. You learned that she was an Environmental Sustainability major. You honestly felt bad. You had been living with the girl for months and didn’t even know what she was going to school for.

You also learned that she really wasn’t that bad. She talked a lot, but she seemed to mean well. She was an only child like you, was allergic to cats, and hated the head cell biology professor with a passion. When you were both sitting on the living room floor borderline wine drunk and stuffed on cake, she only got more animated.

“He’s the worst! I kid you not, he almost made me drop out!” she cried. Her face was getting redder with every sip.

“Was he just a hard grader?” you laughed.

��Yeah but he also had the nerve to lecture and not share the slides online! If you missed 3 classes you just failed. He would embarrass you if you missed an answer,“ she counted off with her fingers. “Just trash!”

“He had the coffee breath too, right?”

She pointed at you, “Yes! The coffee breath! How could I forget that?! He made me want to break his nose then my own. Wait, did you have him too? What class?”

You shook your head. It felt a bit heavier than usual in your tipsiness, “I didn’t, but my friend Jin did and he said the same thing.”

“Ah, he’s in that group of guys you always hang out with, right?” you nodded, “How did you guys become friends? I’ve always wondered that.”

You shifted“I don’t know, we’ve just known each other for a really long time. We went through our more formative years together and just never let the other go.”

It may have been the wine, but you felt a pang of regret for ignoring them. Maybe you were doing too much.

“How can you stand being around them all day? They’re all so...hot,” she said, “You’ve never dated any of them before? Hooked up with them? None of them?”

“N-no, nothing like that. I can’t.”

“You can't?” She raised her brow, smirking, “Ah, so you would if you could?”

“No! They’re like my best friends, I couldn’t do it.”

“Not even the angry looking one that slept over that time?”

You stiffened, “You know about that?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t know it was a secret. I just saw him leaving one morning and assumed you were dating or something.”

“No, no, it’s not a secret or anything like that,” you rushed, “He had to sleep over because of the bad rain the night before. We’re just friends but its…”

“Complicated?” she asked.

“I mean...,” you laughed, “we’re just not really talking right now. But we’re still just friends.”

She tilted her head, looking at you with a wistful smile, “It's obvious they mean a lot to you.”

“They do. I couldn’t make it without them.”

Luna reached out to twirl a strand of hair between her fingers. Her gaze was suddenly intense as she held your eyes, “________, you’re a beautiful independent woman. You can make it without a man.”

Her stare was unnerving. The stoniness in her voice made a chill run up your back.

“I know, I’m just saying,” you turned your face away, laughing to hide your discomfort.

Your phone buzzed against your lap and you gave in to check. You wish you hadn’t.

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

Yoongi: you home?

I know you see my messages

don’t ignore me

You: why what do you want?

Yoongi: I’m coming by

You: again, why?

Yoongi: I just want to talk

Pls

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

You put your phone back down and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, right? The friend I’ve been avoiding is coming over and it looks like I can’t put it off anymore. I’m sorry...”

Luna pouted, “Ah, I see. Well it’s okay. It was fun to hang out while we could.”

You nodded, “Yeah, this was pretty great.”

There was a knock on the door. It was sooner than you expected. You pushed yourself off from the floor and went to the door. Yoongi stood on the other side, hands in his pockets and looking unusually hesitant.

You didn’t spare eye contact or words as you waved him in.

“Hey!” Luna waved from her spot on the floor. She gave you a knowing look.

You cleared your throat, “Luna, this is Yoongi. You met him before.”

Yoongi gave a tight smile, “Hi.”

“Ah, right! I’ve seen you around before. I went to your apartment that one time, right?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Um, yeah, that was my place.”

You led Yoongi back to your room and Luna called after him, “Nice to see you again!”

When you closed the door there was an expected silence. You turned to really look at him for the first time. His eyes were glassy and his entire face was tinted-red. You realized he reeked of alcohol.

You looked him up and down, “Jesus, are you drunk? Do the boys know you’re over here?”

He just shook his head as he walked to your bed. He didn’t usually drink much, and when he did he was always one to at least act the most sober.

He tossed himself across the mattress, putting an arm over his eyes. He tapped the space next to him, an invitation. You placed your phone on your desk and sat on the edge of the bed. You contemplated calling one of the boys to come get him, but you knew all the questions would be redirected to you.

“What did you want to talk about, Yoongi?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I just want to stay like this for a while.”

You stared at him, but he stayed still. You went to stand up, and his free hand went to wrap around your waist, pulling you to lay beside him.

You were pressed against his body and began to push away despite how good him and his sweater felt against you, “We shouldn’t do this. You said you wanted to talk, so what?”

“Please,” he breathed, “Just stay.”

You relaxed, giving in only for a bit. He held on tight, arm still firm around you. You suddenly became aware of the state the wine had left you in. You were doing a better job of holding yourself together than him, but having his arms around you mixed with your own looseness was a combo your subconscious was too eager to accept. His breathing was steady as your ear rested on his chest, and after a while you thought he had fallen asleep. The ceiling fan whooshed above you, and as you waited the hypnotic spin made you lose track of time.

His voice broke the hush of the room.

“I’m so sorry, ______.”

“You gotta be more specific.”

“I meant what I said. I forgot where I was.”

“Yoongi, I can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but that’s never been us. You know that,” you gulped, “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” you repeated.

“I don’t. I went too far. I feel like...like I left myself,” he said in a low voice. Though you were unbearably close, he sounded so far away, “I swear I had no control for the first time ever. It was wrong. I know that. I couldn’t stop.”

“But...why?”

“I just lost sight of the mission. I put you in a bad place and you had to pick up the slack for my psychotic break, or whatever the hell that was, and I feel like shit for it. Hell, you had to save my life because I couldn’t fucking handle myself,” his voice broke as he desperately pushed the words out. “And the kiss,” he groaned. “I fucked up so bad. And you handled that too. It was a close call and it was all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. But I want to thank you for stopping me.”

It wasn’t lost on you that he didn’t really answer your question. In all of your years of knowing each other, you never knew him to be someone to lay his heart and regrets plain out on display for just anyone. Whether it was the alcohol or sheer pain that drove him to it, you didn’t know, but it was unsettling. You just wanted to know why. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that.”

“I deserved every bit of that and more. I didn’t hold up my end at all, I just made problems.”

“I meant what I said earlier too, you know.”

“What?”

Your arms went to wrap around his waist before you could stop yourself. He relaxed in your arms and you couldn’t let go.

“Back in the forest. I’m still here if you need to talk, you know. We’re friends after all, Yoongi. I just don’t want you to hold that shit in if you don’t have to,” you moved your head to look up at him.

A painful smile made its way to him.

Yoongi went to nuzzle his nose in your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed until he whined.

“I wanna stay like this forever.”

You went stiff, “Forever? You know we...can’t.”

“I can dream can’t I?”

He didn’t seem to get it. If in his dreams he saw you being this way forever, he was more far gone than you believed.

He looked you over again, “You don’t want this forever?”

There was such sadness in his glazed eyes, it would hurt you too to say what you should have said. Instead you stayed quiet.

“I know it's wrong, I know there are rules, but I like us this way.”

“Don’t…”

“Why?” it was his turn to ask, lips grazing your warm neck.

“You know why...we just can’t.”

“But you like to be with me like this too, right?”

You didn’t even have to ask what “like this” meant.

“I don’t think either of us are in the right head space to make that call.”

“Beyond the fucking. This is something we can do more. Hell, is it so wrong to want to hold you?”

“It-it just blurs the lines even more,” you stammered when his nose traced your collarbone.

“Screw the blurred lines. Screw The Academy. I like us like this, _____. And secretly, I think you do too.”

You felt yourself short-circuiting, “I think the lines are important because without them I can’t understand what this is.”

He stopped to search your face again, “Well what do you understand?”

His eyes were so deep. When you answered you were trapped in them, “That I like this more than I should.”

When the answer left you, there was a curse in your sober subconscious. Though seeing his face soften from the wounded mask he wore earlier almost made you forgive yourself. Almost.

It happened slowly, unlike the others. You watched each other, letting your words hang in the air before the other moved. You were the first to close the distance, Yoongi soon followed. When your lips met in the middle there was no rushed crash, no hurry driven by lust. He held your cheek in the most gentle way. Your lips pressed against his, and for the first time there was no fight for dominance. Your hand went to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer in your already tight position. He rolled himself over you, holding himself up with both hands on either side of your head. Yoongi looked you over for a second before dipping his lips back to yours.

You rolled over again, your knees on either side of his torso as you straddled him. You grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him again. His hands went to your back, skin burning under his fingertips. You went to grab at the bottom of your shirt, and he stopped you.

“You don’t have to, you know?” he said, eyes searching yours.

“But I want to.”

He moved his hand and you raised your huge t-shirt above your head and discarded it onto the floor.

The look he gave you was one of such unfiltered admiration it scared you. His gaze raked across your naked upper body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he proclaimed in such a way your face became hot.

He pulled you down to him again. His large hands traced up your thigh slowly, making you remember your revealing shorts. His touch lit a flame under your skin wherever he touched. Though it wasn’t entirely desire that you felt. This was different. Something that made your chest feel warm and butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach.

“Was that the front door?” he suddenly asked.

“No,” you quickly dismissed him, groaning when his lips went back to your neck. The growing wetness in your panties was a distraction, but you tried your best to listen through your labored breaths.

He sighed, the puff tickling the sensitive skin. He whispered, nearly soundless “Shit...I just like you so much.”

You froze.

You slowly pushed yourself up. Looking down at him, even through the alcohol he seemed to know he had crossed a line.

“You what?”

_________________

When Jungkook left the bar with the others, he was surprisingly sober. He had downed 3 beers and a tequila shot without an issue and was actually disappointed. Getting wasted would have been nice considering the trash week of classes he was having and not remembering the grade he just got on his last quiz would have been the cherry on top.

“What’s been going on with him anyways? You all noticed, right?” Hoseok asked, arm around Namjoon’s shoulder.

“How could we not? He barely said shit the whole night,” Jimin said, “How do you get shitfaced and then get up and leave? That’s just sad.”

“Did he even say where he was going?” Taehyung asked.

“No, but it's not like we have to worry about him handling himself.”

“I should check on him,” Namjoon said, “He’s been acting off for almost a week.”

“Check on _____ while you’re at it. She’s been off too.”

“You sure she’s not just finally tired of us? I wouldn’t blame her,” Seokjin said.

The others were making their way back home and Jungkook stopped to linger on the sidewalk. If he continued down this street and made a right, he’d be at your place, he noted. He suddenly remembered what you owed him.

“What?” Taehyung burped.

“You can go back, I’ll catch up later. ________’s still got my baby.”

“Whatever,” he gave a peace sign and ran to catch up to the rest.

As Jungkook walked under the dim street lights, he couldn’t help but wonder about you. After Yoongi left the bar, Seokjin had told them that the last mission was a rough one, partially because of Yoongi. This wasn’t new though, you had all seen your fair share of fucked up shit over the years. So it didn’t make sense for you to ignore everyone for days on end over it.

He looked at the texts he had sent you. None of them were opened.

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

Jungkook: Stop ignoring me I’m coming over rn

U better be home

If not im breaking in 😜

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

When he finally made it to your place, he pounded on the door. When it opened he readied to walk in, but he stopped when he saw the person on the other side.

“Hi?” Luna asked.

Jungkook forgot she lived there too, “‘Sup?”

“Oh, you’re _________’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, is she here?”

“Yeah, come in,” Luna stepped aside as Jungkook took his shoes off, leaving them beside a pair that was too big for either of the girls that lived there. He didn’t notice, “She might be a little busy though.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows joined in confusion. Like that actually mattered to him, “Uh, okay? Where is she?”

Luna pointed down the hall, “Back in her room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Luna went back to her own room and Jungkook followed her directions down the dark hallway. He had to stop himself from salivating as he pictured what was soon to be his. He seized the handle of your door and thrust it forward.

“Ha! Can’t ignore me now, can you?”

He blinked a few times thinking something would change. In the time void the bedroom had become, everything stayed the same.

You were still mounting Yoongi.

Yoongi still held a handful of your ass.

Your bodies were still entangled in the sheets.

You were still topless.

The scene never changed.

But Jungkook wished it had.

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Thanks for reading like always! Feel free to lmk your thoughts 👀

#bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #did #the danger in duality #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts x reader #bts au #kpop fanfic

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