#I should really be going to bed but there hasn’t been an all clear for the fucking shaheds yet and I’m a bit too on edge to fall asleep

[ivyithink]

the horrors are never-ending, but at least there’s Waffles??

[yeonzzzn]

♠️off limits: sim jaeyun

part one of the off limits trilogy

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 19.6k

synopsis: your older brother has always told you “no boys” and his friends “sister is off limits”, which always worked…until everyone comes back home from college and you see how grown up his best friend has become…

genre: friends to lovers, older brothers best friend!au, forbidden love, eventual smut.

warnings: swearing, masturbating, fingering, reader being called a “bad girl” once, alcohol, blood mentions, sex in a hot tub, unprotective sex, oral (m. receiving), dom!jake, hair pulling, cum eating, MINORS DNI! lemme know if i skipped anything ♡

˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗

a/n: jake is so older brother best friend coded I couldn’t help myself

✰ this is part one to this series, please see the masterlist under the title for parts two-three. ✰

The last thing you expected was your older asking if you were planning to head home during the last bit of your winter break. 

You raised your brow at the texts from your brother, thumbs hovering over the keyboard debating how to let him down easily in the nicest way possible that you rather lounge around in your dorm room in your PJs for the last two weeks.

You sighed and fell back on your bed, “Guess I should start packing then.” 

You knew Jay was right, it’s been roughly a year since the two of you were back at home at the same time. And even when both were at home, one was always going out and never really stayed home. 

Maybe spending the next two weeks at home wasn't such a bad idea. Spend some quality time with your family. 

Or so you thought until you walked into your parents' house with your duffle bag and backpack in your hands staring into the living room and seeing not just your brother, but his three best friends. 

The same three best friends he grew up with who all followed him to the same college after high school graduation. Ones you haven’t seen in like four years. 

You’re only a year younger than your brother and two of the friends while two years younger than the oldest one in their little circle. 

You basically grew up with them as well, since you were just a grade below them. 

They haven’t even noticed you arrived yet. Your parents weren’t even home from their jobs yet. 

The four boys sat on the couch, their hands going a hundred miles per hour on the Nintendo Switch controllers going head to head in smash bros. 

They all started screaming as one took the rest out. 

You dropped your bags to the floor, clearing your throat to show your presence. 

Jay was the first to turn around, his smile growing all the more wider seeing you. Jay dropped the controller onto the coffee table, stepped on the couch, and jumped over the back of it, “Hey stink!” 

You cringe at the nickname he continues to call you even as an adult. He wraps his arms tightly around you, squeezing you. 

You hug your brother back, tapping his back, “Jay, you can let go now.” 

As Jay steps to the side, his three friends fully come into your view, all their eyes on you. 

You tried hard to not drop your jaw at the three of them. 

“Hey, Y/N!” all three of them said in sync. 

Heeseung fully turned his body around, leaning on the back of the couch, “You’ve sure grown up a lot since the last time I saw you.” 

Heeseung stood up, stepping over the couch the same way your brother did, rushing up to you and squeezing you just as tightly. 

Sunghoon was next at your side, pulling you into a small hug, “It’s been what? Like four years?” 

You nodded, “It has been a while, hasn’t it guys?” 

“Jake, what are you doing?” Jay called him, “Come say hi too, don’t be rude.” 

Jake stood from the couch, his eyes locking with yours, and didn’t leave them until he was in front of you, arms stretched out, “Was just saving the best hug for last.” 

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, “Haven’t changed at all, have ya Jake?” 

He chuckled, his heart beating loudly in your ears as you rested your head on his chest. 

Jake pulled away from you, taking a step back, “I’ve changed!”

Jay scoffed, “Right. We’ll say that.” 

“Most that has changed is your grades are a bit better than high school.” Sunghoon teased, placing a hand on his best friend. 

“Bro,” Jake playfully shoved him, “I’ve grown up a lot!” 

Oh yes, that he did. 

All of them have. It’s only been four years, but each of them has grown up. They went from those nerdy boys you would scrunch your nose at saying they have cooties while holding your index fingers into an x, to the most good-looking men you’ve ever seen. 

Four years feels like it’s been a long time, mostly with how they are in front of you right now. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts, as Jay sets a hand on your shoulder, “Let’s get back to playing Smash Bros and let Y/N rest, she drove longer than we did.”

It was true, you drove three hours to get back home while they only had an hour. You were overdue for a nap. 

Jake waited for you to glance over at Jay before eyeing you up and down. You’ve sure grown up a lot too in the last four years. He was expecting the same girl from all those years ago, oh but he was wrong. 

Jake eyeing you down didn’t go unnoticed by his friends, mostly Jay who was shooting darts into Jake’s soul. 

“Oh also!” You said as you picked up your bags, “How long are you three staying here today?” 

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around Heeseung and Jake’s necks and pulled them in, “We are here the whole two weeks.”

You raised a brow, confused. Of course, they are going to be in town the whole time, “I meant here at the house,” you said pointing your index finger to the floor, “Aren’t you staying with your families while you’re in town?”

Heeseung chuckled, “Nah, we are staying here, that’s what Hoon meant by being here.” 

You glanced at your brother, a smirk on his face, “Nice to know I was told.” You glared at him. 

Jay shrugged, “It was last minute.” 

“We will go see our families, don’t worry,” Sunghoon smiled, “I have to see my little sister, or else she’ll kill me for not coming back home.” 

You glanced between the four of them before deciding it wasn’t worth thinking about at the moment, you needed a nap, “Whatever, I am taking my nap.” 

The three boys turned around heading back to the couch, Jake took one last look at you as you headed for the stairs, Jay catching him once again looking, Jake quickly turned back around and placed himself back on the couch. 

Jay quickly caught your arm before you were too far up the stairs. You turned and looked at him, giving him your nastiest side eye, “What corn lover?” 

“The rule still stands.” 

You raised a brow, “What rule?” 

Jay tilted his head at you, “Really?” 

You gave him a confused look, trying to read his mind. The gears in your brain turned until it finally clicked. 

“You mean the rule from when we were kids?” 

He nodded, “No boys.” 

You rolled your eyes, “As if, they still have just as many cooties as they did four years ago.” 

Jay nodded, “Good. Keep it that way. Get rest, I’ll come to wake you when mom and dad get home. We are barbecuing tonight. I’m grilling.” 

Your mouth was already watering thinking about your big brother's cooking. The one major con of going to a college further away was missing his cooking.

You continued your journey up the stairs and into your childhood room, seeing that your parents left everything the same as it was when you left it. Dropping into your bed, face first into the pillow, sleep finds you quickly. 

Jay dropped himself back on the couch, picking up the switch controller, “Alright douche bags, let’s get this party back in motion.” 

Everyone grabbed their controllers except Jake, who had his nose in his phone and searched for your Instagram account from Jay’s account, curiously stalking through your account. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by Jay, who glanced over at Jake’s phone, catching him staring at the recent selfie you posted a week ago. 

“Sim Jaeyun.” Jake jumped at his government name being called so sternly by his hyung. 

“Jesus Christ, what?” Jake breathed out, his hand flying to his chest, his heart rate increasing, “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Jay glanced back down at his phone, bringing realization to Jake causing him to quickly lock his phone. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon also had their eyes on Jake. He looked between the three of them, raising a brow, and glared at them, “What?” 

Heeseung slowly faced back to the TV, “I ain’t saying anything.” 

“I am,” Sunghoon chimed in, “We all saw how you eyed her.” 

Jake quickly shook his head, realizing the situation he got put in, “It’s not like that! She just grew up a lot more than I was expecting.” 

That wasn’t helping Jake’s case. Jay was just getting more pissed. 

“Dude,” Jay narrowed his eyes, “That’s my little sister.”

“Who is also like a little sister to us,” Heeseung added in. 

“Who passed you the baton?” Jake groaned, finger pointing at Heeseung and eyes looking between all his best friends, “Why are you all on my ass?” 

“Off limits.” Jay said, bringing in the old rule from childhood, “Nothing has changed.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, slouching into the couch, “Obviously! Trust me, I am not interested, like a little sister, remember?” 

“Good. Goes for all three of you, she’s off limits.” 

The conversation ended there. The last thing Jay needed was having to pull any of his friends off you. He was way too protective of you and knew his friends way too well, mostly after the sex demons they became after graduating. It was already bad enough in high school, but with the freedom college gave the four of them along with the parties and of course, females…

Jay had to protect you at all costs. And he would always stand by it. 

—

Jake’s hands trembled as he stood in front of your bedroom door. He’s stood by your door many times as a child growing up, always kicking your door open and running away with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon, before you could shout at them for annoying you. 

But obviously, you all weren’t children anymore. So why was Jake so scared to simply knock on your door?

Jay decided to start grilling before your parents got home so that it would be ready or almost ready by the time they walked in. 

Your parents arrived just at the right time as the steak was almost done grilling. 

The three boys sat at the picnic table outside by the portal heater and set up the plates while Jay stood by the grill, grilling away. 

Your parents hugged each of the boys, welcoming them into their home like old times. 

“Oh, where is Y/N? Jongseong?” your mother asked sweetly, placing a kiss on his cheek, “I saw her car outside.” 

“She’s napping,” Jay said, turning over the steaks, “Everything is ready, so someone should go wake her.” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon were already way too busy talking to your dad to notice what Jay said, your mother ultimately decided she’ll go wake you.

“Mom! No no no!” Jay quickly spat, “Go sit down, you just got off work, I’ll make one of the boys do it.” 

Your mother sweetly smiled, “Are you sure? I can do it.” 

Jake quickly stood from the table, placing a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll go get her, Mrs. Park, please sit.” 

She quickly pulled Jake into another hug, “Such a sweet boy like always!” 

And that’s how he found himself at your door. The sounds of the laughter of his friends and basically his second family echo from the background as he continues to hover his trembling fist at your door. 

“Come on, Sim…” he whispered, trying to hype himself up, “She’s the same girl you grew up with.” 

Jake’s knuckles made contact with the wooden door, leaning himself closer to listen for any movements. 

Nothing. 

He knocked again but a bit louder, “Y/N?” silence. Another knock, “Hey, Y/N?” 

There was shuffling on the other side, the door opening too quickly. You and Jake were now face to face, barely inches apart. 

Oh lord was Jake’s heart racing. 

You were in your favorite pair of sweatpants and an old tee shirt back from high school with the school's logo on it. Your hair was slightly messy from sleeping and had on the same pair of glasses you wore growing up. 

Jake was weak. He always loved your glasses growing up. Thinking they shaped your face nicely and made you look really cute. Of course, he’d never tell you this, he just always made fun of you like the other boys did. 

Jake quickly stepped back, giving you space. 

You yawned and did a small stretch, “What’s up?” 

“Umm,” Jake quickly looked away from you, too scared you’d see how his heart was practically bursting through his chest, “Your parents are home, and dinner is ready.” 

Whatever tiredness you once felt was out the window at the mention of Jay’s dinner. 

“Okay! Let me change and I’ll be downstairs.” You closed the door quickly, not wanting to miss a second away from the delicious dinner. 

Jake made his way back down the stairs and outside, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket as he sat back down. 

Jay raised a brow, “My sister?” 

Jake shrugged, “She’s coming. Said she was going to change.” 

As if on cue, you slid open the glass door, quickly embracing your mother. 

You wrap your arms around her from behind, surprising her. 

“Hello, mom!” 

She quickly turned around to hug you properly, “Oh my sweet girl! I’ve missed you!” 

You smile, the familiar smell of her rose perfume fills your nose, “I’ve missed you too momma.” 

“Jongseong, come over here too!” your mother waved your brother over, pulling the both of you into a tight hug, “It’s been so long since I have had both my children home. I’m so happy you’re here:” 

Jake and the others smiled at you three.

Once your mother released you from her arms, Jay sat down across from Jake, leaving you a spot between him and your mother. 

Before sitting down you hugged your father and gave a wave to Heeseung and Sunghoon. 

“Good to see you back to the land of the living,” Heeseung teased, “We thought you’d died.” 

You roll your eyes, “Haha, very funny.” 

Jake took a moment to take in your new outfit. Hair was nicely brushed, tight skinny jeans with rips at the knees, and a baby blue long-sleeve shirt that hugged your torso snug, perfectly shaping your breasts. His eyes not leaving you until you sit down, and then his eyes go to his plate of food. 

Jay glances at his best friend, eyes shifting to you, then back at him.

“We can finally eat now that Y/N decided to grace us with her presence,” Jake teased, finally digging into his food. God he was blessed to have Jay as one of his best friends. 

You reached under the table and kicked Jake’s shin, him only laughing more than before. 

“Just like old times! You kids never change!” your father smiled, lifting his beer for a cheer. 

—

Jake tossed and turned, eventually ending up on his back staring up at the ceiling. 

The thoughts of the outfit you wore earlier tainted his mind. The way your clothes perfectly shaped your body. 

Jake quietly covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes in hopes it would take the thoughts out of his head. “She’s your best friend's younger sister, what are you doing?” 

He sat up in bed, throwing the blankets off him, and carefully crawled out from the bottom bunk of the bed, trying to not make too much movement to disturb the sleeping Sunghoon above him. 

Heeseung was fast asleep on the twin-sized bed across from him, small snores escaping his lips. 

Jake took one last look around the room before carefully tip-toeing out. 

Jake remembers when Jay announced to them that his parents were buying a bunk bed to add into the spare room so that each of them had a proper place to sleep besides sharing the twin-sized bed or having an air mattress. 

Mostly after the four of them got into middle school, no one wanted to share a bed anymore. 

It was a blessing, even more of a blessing that the Park’s kept the spare room just the same after all these years. 

Jake opened and closed the door with such grace praying to be quiet enough to not wake anyone. Carefully walking down the hallway, stopping at the foot of the stairs, swearing he heard something, looking up them. 

The moonlight gave enough light to show how empty the upstairs was, Jake shrugged off the noise he heard and went to the kitchen. 

You quietly opened your door, making sure to not disturb any sleeping body, specifically your parents since they needed to be up early for another full day of work. 

The nap you took earlier in the day completely messed up your night's rest. You tossed and turned in your bed hoping for sleep to find you but never did. Hoping for a few bites of the leftover barbecue and some water will help you chase the sheep. 

You tip-toed to the stairs, carefully and slowly making your way down them, eyeing down the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen, making sure no one else was awake. 

You turned the corner of the kitchen, fingers flipping the light switch on. Once the lights came on, your heart nearly dropped to your stomach. 

You swore you jumped ten feet in the air, “Oh sweet god, what the fuck Jake?!?” you whispered loudly. 

What the fuck indeed. 

Jake was pressed against the counter, the water bottle he once held in his hand was now on the floor and the liquid completely covered him. 

He took a few deep breaths, hand clenching his now wet shirt, feeling his heartbeat. 

“You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” 

You raised a brow at him, “I scared you? I nearly had a heart attack!” 

Jake relaxed against the counter, his hands now gripping the counter behind him, “That makes two of us.” 

You ran your hands down your face, taking a deep breath in, before dropping your arms back at your side, “Why are you even up?” 

Jake’s face was glued to you, his eyes turning dark. 

You just looked at him, “What?” It wasn’t until you crossed your arms that you realized what he was staring at. 

You remembered what you were wearing. Sweatpants that hung loosely at your hips and a black sports bra. 

Jake didn’t notice it at first, mostly not after the surprise of you scaring him half to death, but after he finally looked at you is when he noticed. 

The way your breasts were exposed and practically spilling out of the top of your sports bra, how loosely your sweatpants hang. Oh, the thoughts running through his head. 

The way all he would have to do is barely slip his fingers at the fabric of your pants to remove them from your hips. The access his lips would have to your tits as he slid his against your heat. 

Jake didn’t even realize how hard he was staring at you, looking like a meal he could easily eat up. 

Normally you’d run out of the kitchen and back up the stairs full of embarrassment, but something about the way Jake was looking at you made your knees weak. 

Your body moved on its own, walking closer to him. His hands gripped the counter, knuckles turning white and his heart rate accelerating. It wasn’t until you were a couple of inches away from him that he realized what was happening. 

You could easily see the tint in his shorts growing. All it took for him to see you like this to get so hard?

Jake watched as your eyes dropped to his crotch, and slowly made eye contact with him. 

Oh how hard it was for him to keep his hands to himself. 

“Jake,” you whispered. You, yourself, want to put your hands on him. 

From the moment you saw him, Sunghoon, and Heeseung in the living room earlier this afternoon, you’ve had to admit you were attracted to them, especially Jake. He was no longer the icky boy you grew up with. He’s a man, looking at you like a woman, not the little girl you once were. 

You whisper his name again, moving your hand to touch his bicep, but stopping halfway. 

“Y/N, touch me and I can’t promise to behave myself.” His Aussie came out thicker in that moment, filled with lust and want. 

You wanted to test his boundaries and see if he would actually misbehave. 

Your cold fingers brushed his bicep, and that’s all it took for his hands to fly to your hips, switching positions and pinning you against the counter, his hard length now pressed to your aching core, hands gripping your hips. 

Jake felt as if he was on autopilot, moving against you as if it were second nature to him. 

Jake’s mind has been going wild since the moment you walked through the front door. 

He wasn’t expecting the woman he had pressed to his body. 

Jake was still expecting the little girl he used to tease. The little girl he would gang up on with his friends. The little girl he would scrunch his nose at when he’d see you in the halls at school as you’d pass by him. The little girl Jay would rant about if another boy looked at you in a romantic way. The little nerdy girl who got straight A’s and never skipped a day of school in your life even if you were sick. 

Jake never expected to see you so grown. To see how your body changed and filled in. The way you style your hair and the taste of fashion you have now. How your tits naturally fall and how your ass fits so perfectly in any pants you’ve worn today. 

Oh, Jake was a mess. And oh how badly he wanted to make a mess out of you. 

You kept your eyes locked with Jake’s, honestly loving how seen you felt by him right now. 

“Thought you were going to behave?” you whispered, your hands now gripping the counter behind you. 

“I told you the consequences of your actions if you’d touch me, and here we are.” 

You let a small laugh leave your lips, rolling your hips against him. 

Jake groaned, resting his forehead against yours, grinding himself back onto you, “What are you trying to do here, Y/N?” 

You bit your lips, trying to hold back the sounds threatening to escape your mouth from the pleasure of his dick just rubbing against you. 

“Are you trying to get me in trouble with your brother? Huh?” Jake whispered, dropping his head to the side of yours, lips brushing against your ear, rolling his hips a bit harder than the last, “He’s already on my ass from the way I’ve been eye fucking you today.” 

Your knees buckled, Jake not letting your weight drop with the grip he has on your hips. 

“You’re being such a bad girl right now, Y/N, disobeying your brother's wishes so easily just to get a feel of my dick.”

Your brain was going fuzzy at his words, trying to focus on the sound of his breathing to keep you in reality. 

Jake’s hands drop down to your ass, squeezing the fat as he thrust his hips against you. Your breath hitched at his touch, knees buckling again. 

You wanted to feel his hands everywhere, to feel his lips on yours and against your skin. 

You turn your head towards him, wanting to find his lips, only to be met with his hands leaving your ass, body no longer pressed against yours and him taking a couple of steps away from you. 

Jake’s chest raised and fell with each deep breath he took, eyes glued to the floor as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. 

“We can’t be doing this,” he finally said between deep breaths.

No matter how badly Jake wanted to lead you up those stairs and push you face down into your pillows, he couldn’t betray his best friend like that. Couldn’t betray that trust. 

You nodded in agreement, taking your own deep breaths to steady out your heart rate, “You’re right, we can’t be.” 

You relaxed your body, pushing yourself off the counter, eyes darting to the fridge. 

You grabbed a water bottle, walking past Jake as you exited the kitchen, stopping right past him. 

“Jake,” you whispered, looking back at him. Jake stared back at you with lustful eyes, praying you’d jump his bones right here, right now, “Make sure you pick up that bottle and clean any water that got anywhere, mom will kill you if you don’t clean your mess.” 

And with that, you left him alone in the kitchen. 

Jake didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he heard your footsteps going up the stairs. He quickly cleaned up the spill and threw away the bottle.

Jake made his way back to the hallway, stopping at the door of the spare room, and seeing the bulge in his shorts. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes going straight to the bathroom door. 

He locked himself in, pulling his shirt over his head and to the floor, quickly dropping his shorts and boxers down to his ankles. 

His cock pulsating and red, precum leaking from the tip. 

Jake took himself into his hand, pumping himself slowly. Head leaning back against the wall, mouth slightly open. 

Jake stared at himself in the mirror, watching as stroked himself, hand picking up speed. 

His hand wasn’t enough, and as guilty as he already felt, he imagined his hand was yours. Imagine how your hand would be wrapped around his thick cock, thumb spreading his precum around the tip. He imagined how it’d feel to how your lips on his neck, kissing down his chest and torso until your lips wrapped around his cock, tongue licking up and down his shaft. 

Jake had to bite down on his lips to keep his moans quiet, whining at the sensation of the twitch his dick made, so close to release. 

He whispered, “I’m cumming Y/N…I’m cum-“ 

Before he could finish his words, his cum was dripping down his hand. 

Jake slowed his hand movement, chasing his high. 

He looked down at his mess, taking deep breaths and relaxing against the wall. 

“Fuck…oh fuck…” 

Jake knew thinking of you while he got himself off would only make this sexual frustration worse. How was he going to survive the next two weeks? He barely survived the first day. 

—

If you weren’t awkward around Jake before, you sure are now. 

You barely slept at all last night because of the hard-boiled embarrassment you felt. 

You came onto your older brother's best friend?! What were you even thinking? You can already see how pissed off Jay would be if he found out what happened last night. 

You knew what happened was just a one-time thing. Some weird thing that happened because of your choices. 

But the way Jake looked at you…how his eyes spoke for him…it clouded your mind. 

When you walked into the kitchen that morning, Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table yelling and pushing each other while your brother stood at the stove flipping pancakes. 

Jay was the first to notice you, “Aye, good morning stinks.” 

Three other pairs of eyes fell onto you, feeling Jake’s gaze specifically. 

You walked to your brother, taking a glance at the pancakes, “When will they be ready?” Your mouth was practically watering just by looking at them. Maybe it was a good idea to come back home, all for Jay’s cooking. 

“Soon, go sit down with everyone else, impatient.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms, “How can I not be impatient when I don’t get to have your cooking anymore?” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “Maybe if you came home more often-“

“Okay, whatever corn lover.” You scoff, “You win.” 

Jay chuckled at his victory, telling you once again to sit down. 

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, eyes landing back at the spot Jake had you pressed against just the night before. 

Jake took notice of your stare on the spot. Covering his mouth with his fingers, eyes staring down at your legs and how your ass is barely covered by your shorts. 

It’s like you were trying to tempt him. 

Sunghoon also noticed your stare at the counter, raising a brow in concern, “You good over there Y/N?” 

The thoughts of last night faded from your mind as you turned around to face him, smiling with a “Mmhmm! Just lost in thought!” 

Oh, Jake couldn’t help but tease you, “What’s up with that spot to get so lost in thought about?” 

He did not. 

You narrow your eyes at him, the shit-eating grin that spread across his face pissed you off. 

While the others giggled and went back to their normal business, you kept your eyes on Jake. Fully watching as his eyes traveled down your body. 

If he wants to play games, you’ll play back. 

You walked back over to Jay, leaning yourself onto the counter, knowing full well your shorts will ride up, showing off your ass cheeks. 

Jake clenched his fist in his lap, biting down on his fingers at his mouth, feeling his dick start to harden. 

The way your shorts lifted to show the small amount of fat from your ass, basically showing off to Jake that you were either wearing a thong or…nothing at all underneath. 

You slightly shifted your weight between your legs, the small jiggle of your ass made him clench his fist tighter, having to completely cover his arm over his bulge. 

Jake knew he couldn’t get up and walk out of the kitchen, not with his raging boner on full display. Everyone would clown him. 

This was the consequence of pushing his luck. Now he’s got to suffer with it. 

You turned your head back to look at him, seeing the way he twitched in his seat and how his jaw was clenched tightly. The look he was giving you, the same hungry look from last night, but worse. 

It was enough to dampen your shorts. 

Jake knew he had to turn the situation around, to drop it entirely, “Hey Jay!” 

You quickly twisted yourself around, looping your fingers at the back of your shorts to pull them down, seeing the smug look that now played on Jake’s face. 

It was a powerful move to get your brother's attention, knowing Jay would turn around along with Sunghoon and Heeseung's attention being brought in this direction. 

Checkmate. 

—

You nearly jumped for joy when you found out all the boys would be leaving the house for the day to see their families, Jay going along with them. 

You decided since now the house was empty and you’d be alone means the massive TV in the living room finally being free. 

You pulled Netflix on the TV and skipped your way into the kitchen, pushing a bag of popcorn into the microwave, watching the timer go down as you grabbed a bowl for the popcorn, fingers barely holding the bag to drop them into the bowl. 

You dropped onto the couch, popping the corn into your mouth, free hand searching for something to watch. 

There was a show your best friend from college told you about not too long ago, but you couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of it. 

You looked on the coffee table, searched the couch, and couldn’t find your phone anywhere. 

“Where could it be…” 

You set the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, rushing upstairs into your room, and finding the device sitting on your bed. You snatched it up quickly, shooting your friend a quick text as you made your way back down the stairs, the sound of the spare bathroom door opening nearly sent your soul into orbit. 

You found yourself standing across the hall from Jake, him shooting the same confused look back at you. 

“What?” he raised a brow, “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You pointed a finger at him, “Why aren’t you with the boys?” 

Jake got more confused, “Why would I be?” 

“Don’t you need to see your family? Ya know while you’re back home?” you retort.

Jake chuckled, “Honey, how can I visit my family if they’re on vacation in Australia?”

You…didn’t think of that. You just assumed his family would be here in town too. 

You fidgeted with your shorts, suddenly embarrassed for thinking you’d be home alone. 

Jake looked down at your legs, the thoughts from earlier in the morning coming back to his head. 

You caught him looking, a smirk playing on your face, “You sure have a staring problem, Sim Jaeyun.” 

His eyes whipped up to yours, the corners of his lips curving, “You really want to play this game right now, Park Y/N? When there’s no one else here?” 

You came back to the realization that the two of you were alone. 

Jake walked over to you, arms stretched out at his sides, corning you between himself and the railing of the staircase. 

Jake knew this was wrong, but the stunt you pulled this morning had him taking a thirty-minute shower after breakfast just to beat himself off to release that tension. 

“I’m asking you this again, what are you trying to pull, Y/N?” 

You were at a loss for words because you weren’t sure what you were trying to pull. You want to respect your brother's “off limits” wishes towards his friends, but god damn at the same time, you were so attracted to Jake. 

He has always been a good-looking kid, you always found him so adorable, but once middle and high school came around and he started to finally fill into his body properly, the more attractive he became and the girls around school knew it too. The last time you saw him was his high school graduation, and boy did those years make him one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. 

“Turning me on in front of my friends and your brother? So dirty.” 

You clenched your thighs together, trying to hide the arousal you were feeling, except nothing could get past Jake. 

“You want me,” he whispered with a smirk, leaning his body closer to yours, “You want me so bad.” 

Jake had to admit seeing you like this was such a turn-on. The way he’s got you clenching your thighs and hasn't even laid a hand on you. 

God he wanted to touch you again, have your body pressed close against his, feeling your tits squish to his chest and hands grasping your ass. 

Him being alone in this house with you was dangerous. 

Day two and still basically a full two weeks left to go. 

But he can’t fold, no matter what. 

You saw how quickly Jake’s face changed, how the lust left his eyes and was replaced with the soft puppy dog eyes he normally has. 

And you knew why. 

Jay. 

“Maybe we need to stay clear from each other,” you said, slipping under his arm and up a few steps on the stairs, “Like you said last night, we can’t be doing this.” 

Jake knew it was the right thing to do. Besides, once these two weeks are over and he goes back to college, things will go back to normal, right? No thoughts of his best friend's little sister fucking him into oblivion. 

He nodded, pushing himself off the stairs, “But unfortunately we can’t completely ignore each other, that’ll be more suspicious than anything.” 

“Right,” you knew the moment your brother caught onto the two of you ignoring each other he’d known something was up. Thankfully for you, nothing has really happened between you and Jake, just some dry humping, dirty talk on Jake’s end, and him grabbing your ass in the kitchen on top of you teasing him this morning. No big deal! “We just need to act like how we used to do, like when we were kids.” 

Jake softly smiled at you, “That’ll be an easy thing to do, right, stinks?” 

You rolled your eyes and stomped up the stairs, “I’m so sick of that name.” 

Jake couldn’t hold back his laugh, seeing the popcorn bowl you left on the table, “I’m stealing your popcorn!” he yelled, shoving some of the buttery goodness into his mouth. But the only response he got was the sound of your door slamming. 

—

What Jake thought would be easy ended up being the hardest thing. 

He couldn’t look at you without the thought of laying face first into your bed running across his mind. 

Talking to you was a small challenge in itself. Mostly because Jay, Sunghoon, and Heeseung were always right there. Jake felt like their eyes were secretly judging him, watching his every move when probably in reality there was nothing but elevator music going on in their heads the entire time. But he still couldn’t help but feel like an ant under a microscope and had to watch how he looked at you or spoke to you. 

The four of them grew up teasing you, calling you silly names, spitting their watermelon speeds at you during the hot summers while you all played outside, and even when they would throw snow at you when you five would play outside in the cold. You were really like a little sister to them, basically family. So why was staying clear from you so hard? It was easy as kids. What was so different now besides how grown up you were now?

It was now Monday, four days into the small vacation at your parents and still all this week and a full week after that to be here. The last couple of days have been…somewhat of a struggle for you and Jake. 

You acted normal when everyone was around, but still couldn’t help but steal glances at Jake, sometimes already catching him looking at you. 

After that day you were both alone, you stayed in your room at night, already having some snacks and water up on your nightstand so you wouldn’t have to carefully sneak yourself back downstairs and run into Jake again. 

There’s only been a few times where walking past him was a challenge, mostly in the living room trying to find a seat to sit down or in the kitchen when everyone is putting food on their plates at dinner time. 

Small touches of your hands grazing from reaching for cups or when you walk past each other in the crowded kitchen and living room. Nothing too big that anyone would really notice…or so you hoped. 

Jay nudged your shoulder with his, “What’s up Stink?” 

You looked up at your brother, “Huh?” 

Jay raised a brow at you, “Y/N, you’ve been twirling your spoon around your cereal for like five minutes now.”

You thinned your lips into a line, looking back down at your cereal that is more than likely soggy now, “I was, wasn’t I?” 

You dropped the spoon in the bowl, excusing yourself from the breakfast table and walking the bowl to the sink.

Jay crossed his arms and slid back into his chair, “You not going to tell me what is going on?” 

Your heart dropped, does he know? Does he know you and Jake have been acting not completely normal? 

“I’m just really tired today is all,” you decided to play it off, hoping your worst fear wasn’t happening. Dumping out your wasted cereal and washing the bowl and spoon, “I also didn’t sleep much last night, could hear your snoring from next door.” 

Jay, who now appeared at your side, chuckled, taking the bowl from your hands and a towel from the cabinet, “Was I really snoring that loud last night? I was exhausted. Heeseung spam called me saying they all could hear it from the guest room downstairs.” 

Score! He doesn’t know. 

You watched as he placed the now clean bowl back into its home in the cabinet and placed the towel over the rack to dry, “Damn, even Heeseung heard it? How is your throat not dry as hell?” 

Jay flicked his finger against your forehead, laughing as you winced and one hand went to your head while the other balled into a fist and reached across to punch your brother in the chest. 

His bright smile was enough to completely change your mood, taking whatever negative energy that was balling up to release and escape back to wherever it came from. Jay always had this effect on you, it was one of his best sibling traits. 

But that didn’t stop you from still trying to square up with him. 

And you failed…horribly. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon walked into the kitchen at the perfect time for Jay to put you into a headlock between his biceps, “Say you're sorry,” he said in a teasing tone, “And I’ll let you go.” 

Even with the laughing fit you were in, you still didn’t give up. Hands gripping his arms in attempts to get yourself free, “Never!” You chanted, “You snore like an old man!” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon shared glances before walking around the two of you wrestling to grab their own bowls of cereal and sitting at the table. 

Jake was the last to pile into the kitchen, stopping abruptly at the fight in the kitchen. 

“Just walk around them,” Sunghoon mentioned, “We did.” 

Jake carefully walked around the two of you who now sat on the floor. 

You had your arms and legs wrapped around your brother, his back to your chest. But he had your back pressed against the island, his shoes digging into the floor to help him use all his weight towards his chest to keep you against the island. 

Jake carefully made his way to the table, sitting down beside his other two friends, “Have they been fighting long?” Jake asked, too scared to even prepare himself his own bowl of sugar. 

Heeseung shrugged, “We found them like this when we got here.” 

Sunghoon groaned, “Should we break it up now? Probably been going on for long enough.” 

“Hey!” Heeseung shouted. You and Jay stop wiggling around, eyes now set on the table at the three friends staring back at you, “Some of us would like to eat our breakfast in peace.” 

“That sucks,” you joked, tightening your grip on your brother. Jay pushing his weight back onto you. 

While Heeseung and Sunghoon seemed to completely discard the two siblings, Jake couldn’t help but smile fondly at you two. 

He dropped his jaw into his palm, his smile only growing wider. This moment felt like old times when you were all children. 

But that happy feeling soon faded and was replaced with fear when your mother walked into the kitchen. Jake never sat up straight so fast. Even Heeseung and Sunghoon stopped slouching. 

“Park Jongseong! Park Y/N! What are you doing?!” 

You and Jay got up from the floor, standing side by side in front of your mother. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Jay quickly asked with his, sorry for wrestling my baby sister on your clean kitchen floor mom, it won’t happen again, awkward smile. 

Your mother placed her hands on her hips, “Am I not allowed to have a day off from work?” 

Heeseung scooted his chair closer to the table, leaning against it in a way to get as close as possible to the conversation, him eating his cereal as if it were popcorn, and you guys were the movie. 

Sunghoon followed Heeseung, him pulling at Jake’s hoodie to pull him close too. 

“I think what Jay means mom, is that we weren’t expecting you to have the day off.” You elbowed your brother's ribs, a small oof leaving his lips from the pain. 

Your mother relaxed, looking between the two of you, “Your father has a company party tonight up at that new fancy hotel a couple of towns over, we are leaving now to get there at a decent time. We are packing as we speak.” 

“Wait, you're not coming home tonight?” Jay asked with a hint of shenanigans in his tone. 

Oh boy…

She shook her head, “The party is ending too late, so we are staying at the hotel and coming home tomorrow morning.” 

Jay didn’t even hide the fact that he had some kind of bullshit cooking up in his head as he turned and faced his friends, a smirk forming. 

You leaned back, glancing at his friends, trying to decipher whatever secret language they were using to communicate with their eyes.

Before your mother could protest whatever shenanigans your brother was planning, your father stumbled into the kitchen. 

“Boys, I need your help. The mail just came.” your father said, pointing his index finger at each of the three boys one by one, “It’s a big one.” 

“Are we building something, Mr. Park?” Heeseung asked, already standing up from the table. 

Your father nodded with a big smile, “We bought a hot tub for the back porch.” 

—

You sat at the picnic table, cold hands shoving into your hoodie pocket, watching as the three boys hovered around Sunghoon who held the directions to the hot tub. 

“When your dad said he got a hot tub that he needed help setting up, I thought he meant he was going to be a part of helping…” Jake sighed, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. 

Jay also sighed, “Yeah, trust me. He put his whole faith into us with this one. Not to mention one person is just watching while we struggle.” 

The three boys looked at you. You sat up straighter, smiling at them, and waved, “Dad never told me to help.” 

Each of them glared at you before going back to the instruction booklet. 

You were surprised your parents even bought the hot tub. Mostly since it would only be the two of them using it up until the spring came when it got too hot for it. Plus you and the boys would only be able to use it while you were visiting. But it’s their money, not yours. They can do what they please. 

“Wait,” Heeseung said, picking up one of the hard plastic pieces, “I figured it out.” 

The boys, sooner than later, had the hot tub built. It was a beautiful oak brown wood color with six seats and came with massaging capabilities with cool lights at the bottom for when it was dark out. It was small, and everyone’s legs would get all tangled up, but beautiful nevertheless. 

The next step was setting up the pumps. Which racked the boy's brains too hard, causing them to sit at the picnic table with you. 

“My brain hurts,” Heeseung said rubbing his temples, “I need a break.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up quickly, he sat up on the bench, hands slapping onto the table, “Tell us your plan, Jay!” 

Jake’s attention also drew in, curious as well, “Yeah what’s the plan?” 

Heeseung looked up at his friends, also waiting. 

You looked at your brother, “Are you talking about whatever hidden language you three stooges had while in the kitchen earlier?” 

“How dare you compare us to the three stooges!” Sunghoon snapped, reaching over to flick your forehead, but you were too quick, swatting his hand away. 

“Can’t tell me I am wrong?” you retort, “Anyways, spill the beans.” 

Jay looked between his two friends, “Might as well tell her,” Jake shrugged, “She’s already onto us.” 

You shook your brother’s shoulder, “SPILL!” 

“Party,” he sighed, shrugging you off, “We are going out tonight.” 

You raised a brow, switching glances between the three idiots, “And you were trying to keep that a secret…why?”

“We couldn’t go to parties when we lived here?” Jay sassed. 

“That didn’t stop you from sneaking out your window and jumping into Heeseung’s car?” you threw back, “You’re adults now, you think our parents can stop you?” 

Jake released a giggle, “Your mother actually called Jay on the drive here telling him no drinking while we are here.” 

You shrugged, your mother was always against drinking and going to parties. It’s what caused Jay and yourself to sneak out half of your high school lives. Your dad caught Jay sneaking in through the front door once and that’s all it took for him to start using his bedroom window and bribing you to keep your mouth shut until the first time you snuck out and couldn’t get back inside due to your window closing while you were out having no choice but to call him to let you inside. 

“Anyways, yeah we are going out to a club, possibly bar hop. Just depends.” Jay shrugged it off as if it were no big deal. 

“Cool, when are we leaving?” You asked, fully invested in going. 

Jay scoffed, “Who said you can come?” 

You scrunch your nose at your brother, “I am an adult, if you tell me no I could always drive myself and follow you guys.” 

Heeseung chuckled, “She’s got a point, might as well let her come.”

You gave your brother a smug look, “See?”

“Fine, jeez!” he groaned. 

“Plus, maybe you’ll get lucky and someone else can take me off your hands.” you wiggled your eyebrows, hoping they picked up what you were putting down. 

Jake was the first one that pick it up. Chills being sent down his body. Eyes darting between you and Jay, then it finally clicked in his head. 

“No!” Jay snapped, “Not happening, keeping you in my sight.” 

You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well once you all get to the club or bar and get some alcohol in your system Jay can’t stop anything. 

Heeseung slapped his hands on the table, “Anyways, enough of that! Let’s get these pumps on the hot tub working so we can get ready to leave, there’s five of us that have to get ready and lord knows we will need that time.” 

Sure enough, the boys got the hot tub up and running smoothly in no time. 

—

“Wear the fucking jacket Y/N!” Jay snapped, yelling over the loud music from the club, shoving his jacket in your face.

“I said no!” you snapped back at your brother, shoving his jacket out of the way. 

“Dude,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, “did you not notice her outfit when we got in the car?!” 

Jay sent daggers shooting at the older, “I was in the driver's seat dumbass! We were running late on leaving!” 

You crossed your arms, looking down at your outfit. It wasn’t even bad? You had on your favorite faded blue ripped skinny jeans with fishnet tights underneath. You had on a long-sleeved crop top that was just above your belly button and in a v-neck style, shoving off your breasts, and your long hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. 

“Besides, it looks like a completely normal outfit!” Jay once again tried shoving the jacket at you. 

“Dude!” you pushed his hands away once again, “There isn’t anything wrong with my outfit!” 

Jay looked at each of his friends to help convince you, his eyes landing on Jake last. Jake just shrugged his shoulders, “Your sister man.” 

Jake on the one hand had no problem with your outfit, it was cute, it was sexy, and it showed off all your curves, not to mention it made your tits and ass look GREAT. On the other hand, he can see Jay’s frustration. The moment any of the guys would take their eyes off you, another man would make his move. 

“Jesus Christ I’m ordering us shots I can’t take this bickering,” Sunghoon said with a roll of his eyes as he pushed past everyone making his way to the bar. 

Jay pleaded with you with his eyes, “Y/N.” 

“Jongseong.” 

Sunghoon returned quickly with five shots, handing everyone theirs, “Let’s get fucked up tonight!” 

“Amen to that brother!” Heeseung shouted, “CHEERS!” 

Everyone clacked the shot glasses together and then drank down the shot. 

It’s been a while since you drank last, already making a promise to yourself to not go overboard. 

Sunghoon collected the glasses and set them on the table next to you all. 

Jay wouldn’t take his eyes off you and you shot darts into his soul. 

He opened his mouth to say something, his eyes looking away from you for a second, his mouth hanging open at whatever sight he saw behind you. 

You raised a brow, turning behind you to see what he was staring at, “Wow, and you want ME to cover up?” 

Granted, the female your brother was going heart eye for was beautiful, she just happened to be showing off a lot more skin than you. She had a matching black crop top and skirt with black boots. It was a cute outfit, no wonder it got Jay’s attention. 

She was also staring back at your brother, even giving him a little wave. 

“Oh shit man,” Sunghoon nudged his arm, “Go get her.” 

Jay ran a hand through his dyed hair, walking in her direction, “Put this on, I’ll be right back,” he dropped the jacket on the top of your head and disappeared into the crowd towards the female. 

You pulled the jacket off you, dropping it down onto the table, “I need more alcohol.” 

You walked away from the boys, only for the three of them to follow directly behind you to the counter of the bar, “Don’t you guys have girls to be going after?” 

Heeseung chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders while he leaned against the counter, “We came here to drink, Y/N, and that’s exactly what we are doing.” 

You pulled Heeseung off you, “Can’t you do that somewhere else?” 

Sunghoon leaned closer to you, “You trying to get rid of us?” he gave you his famous smirk, and oh man did you want to punch him. 

“Duh?” you said matter of fact, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

“Yeah, Sunghoon,” Heeseung said, slinging his arm back around you, “She wants to get laid tonight, she can’t be seen with three other guys hovering around her.” 

Jake didn’t like this conversation nor did he want to hear it. In hopes of changing the vibes, he called the bartender over. “Can we get a couple of rounds of shots please?”

The bartender nodded, “Coming right up!” 

You once again removed Heeseung from you, getting more irritated by the second. You didn’t know what was more annoying, your brother, or his friends. 

The eight shots were placed in front of you all, everyone taking one into their hands.

“Cheers!” Jake calmly said, once again clacking the glasses together before slurping down the liquid. 

You set the glass down and then dropped your head into your hand, this wasn’t how you wanted the night to go. You expected to drink with the boys, yeah, but you weren’t expecting them to be up your ass. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Heeseung asked, pointing a finger down the bar. 

Everyone shifted their gaze looking in the direction Heeseung was pointing at. 

“No way!” you gasped, leaning your head more into your hand, “Is that Choi Yeonjun?!” 

As if hearing his name being called from across the bar, he turned and faced your direction, his eyes wandering between the four of you. He gave a small wave, his eyes lingering on you. Way too long for Jake’s liking. 

The more shots Jake ordered, and the more the liquid courage went down your throat, the more you wanted to walk over to Yeonjun. 

“Are you going to keep giving him heart eyes or are you gonna actually go talk to him?” Sunghoon said with a roll of his eyes, taking another shot down. 

You tucked your lip between your teeth, slightly pulling at your ponytail while making eye contact with Yeonjun, him giving you a few winks and his own lip bite to flirt back. 

It was driving Jake up a wall. 

“Should I?” you asked, “Haven’t seen him since he graduated a few years before you guys.” 

Yeonjun used to be in band class along with the boys and even lived the next street over from you and Jay before he moved away after graduation. He wasn’t close with the boys since he had his friend group, but they all hung out a few times from what you could remember. 

“Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t,” Jake said, taking a small step closer to you as he eyed Yeonjun. 

“Why not?” you stood from the bar, causing Jake to bring his eyes back to you. You adjusted your shirt, pulling it slightly down to reveal your tits a bit more. 

Jake clenched his jaw at the sight, seeing how your tits slightly jiggled from you adjusting your shirt, and the fact Yeonjun was about to see it up close and personal wasn’t sitting right with him. 

“How do I look?” you asked, turning and looking at each of them for their opinions. 

“You look hot, now go talk to him before some other girl beats you to it!” Heeseung said, quickly pushing you away from them, which gave you no other choice but to walk over to him. 

Once you were far enough away, Jake glared at Heeseung. 

“Dude what?” he scoffed, “She came here for this reason. Jay ain’t even around, relax.” 

That’s not the point.

“Come on, let’s go back to the table, I’m tired of standing,” Sunghoon said, collecting the leftover full shots, “Hee, Jake, order us some beer or something.” 

“Well, hello there,” Yeonjun said, pulling you into a hug, “It’s been what? three-four years?” 

You nodded into his shoulder, “It’s really been a while hasn’t it?” 

Yeonjun sat back on his bar stool, pulling the one beside him out, “Please sit.” 

Now that you are closer to him, you can see how grown-up he has gotten. Damn, what is with everyone you knew getting hit with puberty like a fucking truck? 

“Are you still friends with Soobin, Beomgyu Taehyun, and…?” 

“Huening kai?” he smiled, “Of course!” he glances around the club then looks back at you, “They are around here somewhere.” 

You came over here specifically to flirt and hopefully get dragged out of this club by him, yet you’ve found yourself at a loss for words. He’s too beautiful and sexy with how he smiles, it’s throwing you for a loop. Plus you barely knew him back in school, only the basics really. 

Yeonjun leans closer to you, placing his hand on your forearm, thumb rubbing circles, “How is your brother?” he asked, glancing behind you, “I saw you are here with Lee, Sim, and the other Park.” 

You sighed, “Jay is around here somewhere,” you said, taking a quick look around the club, just to find your eyes back on Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun sucked on his bottom lip as he stared you up and down, his eyes always landing back down onto your tits. 

Yeonjun remembers perfectly well how overprotective Jay was over his sister, so if Yeonjun wanted to get you out of your clothes, he needed to act fast before Jay caught eyes on the two of you. 

Yeonjun was so attracted to you right now. He found you cute back in school, but damn did you grow up to be such a fine woman. And with the way your friends were eyeballing him, he knew they too found you just as sexy, making him need to act even faster before one of them decided to ruin everything. 

Jake took notice of how Yeonjun was eye fucking you without a care in the world. His hand was on your arm as you two talked. Oh, it was setting him off. 

“Damn,” Heeseung said, putting his beer bottle to his lips, “You’re going to burn a hole in the guy if you keep staring at him like that.”

“Are we just going to let him touch her like that?” Jake spat out, taking his eyes off Yeonjun to look at his friends, “You both are staring at them too!!”

Sunghoon shrugged, “I am only watching to see if he can actually bag her.” 

“Dude,” Heeseung quickly said, “One hundred bucks that he fucks up somehow.” 

Jake furrowed his eyes, “What the actual fuck?” 

“What?” Sunghoon snapped, “You’re acting like Jay right now. What is up with the two of you? Huh?” 

Jake didn’t know how to answer that. He can’t tell them the sexual frustration he’s been feeling knowing one of them will let it slip to Jay either by accident or purposely.

“I am just worried about her, that's all,” Jake said, looking back over to you. 

In the time Jake had his eyes off you, Yeonjun had his stool pulled closer to you, his legs found their way between yours, his knees touching yours and hand resting on your thigh, his fingers slowly slipping between the tears of your jeans. 

Jake’s jaw locked, his hands forming into fists. 

“Jake,” Heeseung said calmly, noticing his friend's behavior, “Let’s think smart about this, ya?” 

“She is basically our family and you’re just going to stand by and let some random dude touch her like that?!” Jake snapped. 

“Jake, he isn’t some random dude, we went to school with him,” Heeseung tried to play damage control, but it wasn’t working. 

“He also had a reputation for the females he pulled into his bed!” Jake spat. 

Sunghoon let out a whistle and with a tilt of his head said, “You’re so into her.” 

Jake whipped his head around, “Would you let Yeji be in Y/N position right now?” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Fuck no! She wouldn’t be anywhere near here!” 

“Then what’s the difference of letting the girl we grew up with be in that position right now?” 

Heeseung sighed, “Jake, what is really going on with you? You’d never bat an eye at her before.” 

I want her all to myself. Don’t want another man touching her. 

Jake looked away from his friends. Heeseung was right, he’d never thought twice about you before now, he should be supporting your choices to get laid. 

Except he wasn’t. 

Yeonjun’s hand completely slipped between the tear of your jeans, squeezing your thigh as he continued to eye fuck the shit out of you. 

And that’s all it took. 

Jake shot from the chair, his brain on autopilot. 

“JAKE!!” Both his friends called after him. Jake ignored them. 

Jake approached the two of you quickly, Yeonjun locked eyes with Jake and slid his hand out of your jeans with a disgusted look on his face clearly showing his irritation towards Jake. 

“Hey,” Jake said, his hand finding your lower back, his fingers twisting into your belt loop and slightly pulling, “Let’s go find your brother and leave, ya? We still have a few other places to check out.” 

Oh here we go, Yeonjun thought. 

“Wow, no hey Yeonjun! Long time no see! How ya been?” Yeonjun sassed, his thumb still making soft figure eights on your forearm. 

Jake burnt holes into him, “Sup, Choi, long time no see. How have you been? Cool. Bye.” 

“Jake!” you snapped at his rudeness. 

Jake’s hand found your waist, slightly pulling you again in an attempt to remove you from the stool. 

“I don’t think Y/N wants to leave,” Yeonjun glared at him.

Jake scoffed, reaching over to remove his hand from your arm, then completely wrapping around you, lifting you from the seat. 

Yeonjun clicked his tongue, “Is there a problem, Sim?” 

Jake chuckled, “Nah man,” he looked around behind Yeonjun, “Where is the rest of your rat pack huh?” 

“Jake!!” you snapped at him again. What the fuck was his problem? 

Yeonjun chuckled back, his tongue digging into the side of his cheek, standing up from the stool, “Why don’t you let miss pretty thing go and head back over to Mr. Ace and Ice Prince, ya?” 

Yeonjun reached for you, only for Jake to whip you behind him, “Don’t you fucking touch her.” 

“Come on man, trying to get my dick wet, stop gatekeeping her pussy for yourself.” 

Oh, man. 

“The fuck did you just say?!” Jake lost it, letting his grip on you go and stepping into Yeonjun’s face. 

This can’t be good, “Jake!” you gripped onto his arm, trying to yank him back, “Jake come on, let’s just go!” 

He wouldn’t budge, so you did the next best thing. Whipping your head around to find Heeseung and Sunghoon. Waving your hands to get their attention to look in your direction, eyes pleading with them. They got up immediately. 

“You heard me, Sim,” Yeonjun said, “I saw the way you’ve been staring her down all night.” 

Jake clicked his tongue, “Man, fuck off!” and Jake shoved him. 

Yeonjun shoved him back harder.  

Before Jake could swing, Heeseung wrapped his hands around Jake, “Woah woah woah!! Hoon get Y/N out of here!” Heeseung yelled as he fought to keep Jake still. 

Sunghoon wrapped his arm around your waist, trying to pull you away from the situation, “Y/N, let’s go please,” but you fought against him, “I need you safe! Please!” You stopped struggling against Sunghoon’s hold, slowly letting him back you away. 

“Jake, man listen to me,” Heeseung whipped himself in front of Jake, “Let’s just go okay? Think about Y/N, we need to get her somewhere safe, ya?” 

Jake took his eyes off Yeonjun and over to Heeseung, his body relaxing and nodding. The last thing he wants is to put you in danger or see him start a fight. 

Jake nodded, letting Heeseung push him back and turn him around. 

The moment Heeseung’s hands were off Jake and he was now at his side, Yeonjun scoffed, “Pussy shit.” 

Pussy shit?

Heeseung wasn’t fast enough to get ahold of Jake, because now his fists were balled and made contact with Yeonjun’s cheek. 

Yeonjun hunched to the side, his left hand touching the area Jake just punched him, only to quickly whip around and land a punch right on the corner of the left side of Jake’s mouth. 

“Find my brother!” You yelled, fighting against Sunghoon’s hold on you, “Find Jay!!” 

Heeseung ran into the crowd, pushing past the dancing bodies on the floor. 

Jake licked the blood that dripped down his lip, letting out an evil laugh before gripping Yeonjun’s collar of his shirt, Yeonjun took his fist full of Jake’s shirt and gave him a shove. 

“You’re fucking dead!” Jake spat, getting himself ready to throw another punch. 

Before the next moves could be made, Heeseung and Jay were at Jake’s side with Soobin and Taehyun at Yeonjun’s. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Jay yelled, pushing Yeonjun off his friend and then wrapping his hands around Jake’s biceps, Heeseung doing the same in hopes of holding him back. 

Soobin and Taehyun also hand their own death grips on their older. 

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?!” Jay snapped, eyes darting between him and Jun, “Fighting in a club? Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Sunghoon let you go to run to his friend's side, placing his hands on Jake’s shoulders to help pull him back. 

“Let’s fucking go!” Heeseung growled, “NOW!” 

You made your way over to Jake, eyes landing on the cut on his lip. You whipped your head back around and looked at Yeonjun, seeing the bruise already starting to form on his cheek. 

Much deserved. 

Jake’s hands found your waist as he pulled you to him, giving Yeonjun one last fuck you look as he backed away. Jay also places a hand on your back, giving Yeonjun a stare himself. 

Yeonjun chuckled, taking a step forward but his friends stopped him, “Yeah! Learn to get your dog and bitch of a sister under control!” 

Yeonjun was now on the floor on his knees, spitting blood onto the tile, and blood dripping from Jay’s fist. 

You quickly ran over to your brother, pulling him away, watching as Soobin and Taehyun pulled Yeonjun up. 

“Let’s just go hyung,” Taehyun said, “You’ve drank way too much tonight.” 

With a nod from Yeonjun, he let Taehyun pull him away, Beomgyu taking Soobin’s spot as he quickly apologized to us for Yeonjun then followed behind his four friends. 

Heeseung drove home while Sunghoon sat in the passenger seat. 

You sat between Jay and Jake, your hands examining your brothers, napkins, and a bag of ice you guys got from the bar laid onto his hand. 

“I can’t believe you punched him that hard,” you said, squeezing his wrist tightly. 

“I wasn’t going to let him talk about you and Jake like that,” your brother mumbled, “couldn’t let Jake get hit again either.” he teased

“Fuck man,” Jake said, leaning his head back and tilting it to look at Jay, “I had him!” 

Everyone laughed. 

“Oh!!” Heeseung finally spoke up, pointing a finger at Sunghoon, “You owe me one hundred dollars!!” 

“Huh?” Jay questioned. 

“They made a stupid ass bet,” Jake said, rolling his eyes, “Sunghoon lost.” 

“I wouldn’t have if someone didn’t storm off.” Sunghoon snapped, whipping around in the seat to look at Jake, earning a middle finger from Jake. 

“Wasn’t going to let him continue touching Y/N like that.” 

“Thank you,” Jay said, “For watching after my sister.” 

Jake nodded, “Someone had to.” 

You rolled your eyes and sent your elbow flying into his ribs. 

Turning your attention back to Jay, you shifted the ice and napkin up to take a look at the cuts on his hand, “It’ll be bruised for awhile, you hit him pretty hard.” 

Jay just nodded, eyes getting heavy. 

“Hey,” you tap his leg, “You okay?” 

Jay smiled with a laugh, “I’m so fucking hammered, surprised I sobered up enough to stop that fight.” 

You smiled sweetly at your brother, “Let’s get you to sleep once home.” 

—

After the night you had, all you wanted was to try out the hot tub. 

Once you and the guys got Jay into bed, you watched as they made their way into the spare room, the door closing. 

You did get into bed, but the jitters from the fight still haunted you. And what better way to get those jitters away than to try out the brand-new hot tub? 

You quickly changed into your dark blue bikini, slipping sweatpants and a sweatshirt over your body, and quickly but quietly made your way down the stairs, into the laundry closet to grab a towel and into the kitchen, carefully unlocking and sliding the glass door open and shut. 

Turning the hot tub and pulled the cover off and the lights lit up the porch, and watched the bubbles start to form. You dropped the towel onto the table and slid out of your sweats, the cold immediately touching your skin. 

You tied your hair back into a tight bun and quickly jumped over the steps and slid your body into the warmth. 

You released a soft ahhh as the water warmed your body. 

You laid your head back onto the pillow at your seat, closing your eyes and moving your arms back and forth. 

No wonder your parents wanted a hot tub, this shit was relaxing as hell. 

The sound of the sliding glass door opening scared you, making you quickly sit up and whip around. Your eyes nearly rolled out of your sockets from how hard you rolled them. 

“Hello to you too,” Jake said snarkly, “What are you even doing up?” 

You turned back around, “Can say the same about you.” 

Jake wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the hot tub, he wanted to be alone and get out of the spare room for a few hours. After tonight a relaxing time in the hot tub sounded amazing. 

He was probably the last person you wanted to be around, yet he also couldn’t help but feel happy knowing you were also here. 

“Am I allowed to get in or??” 

You looked back over at him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, that’s fine. You’re already out here.” 

The corner of Jake’s lips curled, dropping the towel next to yours. 

His hands found the ends of his sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his body. 

You felt your face flush. Feeling as if you just saw the work of a God. 

You knew he worked out, his whole physique was proof of that. But seeing shirtless was a whole new level. 

Your eyes wandered from his chest down to his abs. Yeah, he was sculpted by the gods. 

Jake looped his fingers in his sweatpants, giving a small smirk at you staring, “Staring problem?” 

You quickly made eye contact with him, then shifted yourself back around, “No.” 

He softly laughed, dropping his sweatpants to the ground and climbing into the hot tub. 

“I am so glad I brought my swimming shorts.” 

You watched as he sat across from you, his legs sliding down beside yours. 

“Did you just, randomly pack swimming shorts?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Jake laid his arms out against the top of the tub, sinking himself lower in, “Yeah. Always have to be prepared.” 

You narrowed your eyes, “It’s the middle of winter.” 

Jake chuckled, “Heeseung’s family has a heated pool. Figured we would go use it at some point during this trip.” 

All you could do was nod. You’ve only ever been to the Lee household during birthday parties for Heeseung as kids. Guess the heated pool came around after you stopped hanging around them. 

Everything went silent. It was awkward, both of you knew that. You both went from staying clear of each other the best you could to sitting across from each other alone. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Huh. 

You looked at him with confusion, “Why?” 

Jake sat up, leaning forward, and wrapped his arms around himself, “For starting a fight with Yeonjun in front of you. For him talking about you the way he did.” 

“Jake,” you also leaned forward, placing your hand on his knee, “You were just defending me, there’s nothing wrong with that. My brother would beat the shit out of you for even apologizing for it.” 

Jake scoffed, “The fight wouldn’t have happened in the first place if I didn’t lose my cool.” 

“You aren’t…wrong…” You studied him. You’ve known Jake basically his whole life, you know his mannerisms and tell by his body language that he was truly deeply sorry, that’s one thing that has never changed about him, “Just don’t be sorry. You were defending me.” 

Jake nodded, his eyes finding a corner of the tub, watching as the bubbles pop, then softly laughed, “Sorry I cock blocked you, that wasn’t cool of me.” 

You let out a small giggle, “Yeah, you really did cock block me,” you let out a sigh, “Too bad he ended up being an asshole, really wanted to have a good fuck.” 

“Fuck me then,” Jake said softly. 

All you could do was look at him, not being able to tell if he was serious or not. 

“Funny joke.” 

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” 

The whole reason you wanted to go out and gain a hookup was to release the sexual frustration that you had for the man sitting in front of you. But now that said man is straight up asking you to fuck him. 

“You said we can’t be doing this, my brother—“

“I don’t care,” Jake moved forward, reaching his hand out and grabbing your waist, pulling you back over to him and in his lap. 

His hands squeezed your thighs on either side of him, his forehead connecting to yours, “I can’t take it anymore. The way you’ve been teasing me…After seeing the way Yeonjun was undressing you with his eyes…the way he was touching you.” 

His length grew hard underneath you, his hands sliding up to the strings of your bikini bottoms, gripping them tightly. 

Jake thought he could survive these two weeks, thought he was stronger, and that the respect and bond he had with Jay was strong enough to keep him away. Unfortunately, your hold on him was stronger. 

“I want you, so bad,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting your lips. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders, “I want you too…” 

You did. Oh god did you want him badly. But how could you betray your brother's rules? He’d kill you both. 

Jake pulled at the strings of your bottoms slightly, “Just give me the word, and I’ll fuck you so good I swear it.” 

Oh, fuck it.

You nodded, “Jaeyun, please.” 

And that line got crossed. 

Jake’s lips connected to yours, kissing you with such passion and need, like he’s been wanting for this his entire life. 

His fingers pulled at both sides of strings, your bottoms completely coming undone and him pulling them away from your body to float off somewhere in the hot tub. 

His tongue invades your mouth, twisting the muscle around yours letting soft and quiet moans release into your mouth. 

You rolled your hips against him, sliding your folds against his clothed length as your fingers got tangled up in his hair. 

Jake squeezed your hips, pushing you down harder onto him, bucking his hips up in motion with yours. 

You released your mouth from his, a string of saliva connected to your mouths, “I need you, Jake, please.” 

His hands left your hips and flew to his shorts, his fingers pulling at the strings. You, being impatient, looped your fingers into his shorts, helping him pull them down. 

“Fuck baby, that needy for my cock?” 

You nodded, watching as his shorts went down at his thighs, his thick length now resting against his abdomen. 

Taking his cock in your hands, you slowly pumped him. 

Jake’s hand went back to your waist, biting his lips. Fuck your hand feels so good against his cock, it was everything he ever imagined and more. 

Jake lifted you, letting you adjust him to your fuck hole, lining him up perfectly. 

“You ready, baby?” Jake asked, wanting one last form of permission from you before crossing the line even further behind the return. 

You nodded, slowly sliding yourself down onto him. 

You both groan out at the feeling of him bottoming out, the sensation already sending Jake over the edge. He could cum right now just from bottoming out. 

You rolled your hips slowly to help get adjusted to his size, hands gripping his broad shoulders as you slowly picked up your pace. 

Jake’s mouth connected back to yours as you rode him. bucking his hips up at the same motion as you. 

“Fucckkkk, you’re so tight, baby. Taking my dick so good, oh fuck.” 

You picked up the pace, his dick hitting your g-spot perfectly. 

Jake’s brain was going fuzzy, the sensation of his dick buried deep in your cunt was sending him to another world. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Jake slid his hands up to the string of your top, fingers gripping them tightly along with your skin, fingers digging in as he slid them back down your back, his hips bucking up harder into you. 

You moaned out a little too loud, Jake’s lips reattaching to your lips, “Shhh, baby, you need to stay quiet.” 

You nodded, biting down on your lips to suppress your sounds as you continued to slide his dick in and out of you…in and out, in and out. 

Jake knew he would cum soon, that knot in his stomach threatening to snap and the twitch of his dick. 

Then your pussy tightened around him, your own high approaching. 

“I’m…cumming soon,” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulders. 

“Yeah, baby?” He slid his hand down to your heat, thumb rubbing circles on your clit, “Wanna cum?” 

“Please.” You begged, throwing your head back as your legs got weaker, biting down on your tongue as the knot snapped. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, make a mess all over my cock.” 

You fell forward, resting your head against his, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he fucked into you, the overstimulation making you dizzy along with the heat from the water. 

“Jake…” 

“I know baby girl,” he whispered, locking his jaw at the knot and getting close to releasing, “Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” 

With a groan, he pumped his seed against your walls riding out his high. 

Jake wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead against your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair and let out a sigh, “Jay is going to kill us both.” 

Jake chuckled, “Yeah, but only if he finds out.” 

You both took a moment to catch your breaths, your hands releasing from his hair and sliding down his neck, your fingers stopping at the chain of his necklace. A beautiful large double link pendant.

Jake noticed your eyes at his neck, “It’s pretty, right?” he said between deep breaths.

You nodded, twisting the metal between your fingers.

He lifted his hands from your sides, reaching behind him and unattaching the clasp, removing it from his body and moving it to yours, the double links dropping at your collar bones.

“Jake, no, I can’t take this!” you went to take the necklace off, “This was probably very expensive!”

Jake grabbed your hands, sliding them back around his neck, “It’s yours now, a beautiful necklace for a very beautiful woman. Keep it.”

Your heart was racing, your stomach filled with butterflies at the way he smiled and looked at you.

“It looks better on you anyway baby,” Jake wraps one arm back around you, his free hand cupping your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss.

—

Jake had to admit, that seeing you walking around with his necklace around your neck drove him insane. 

It was like his own way of marking you without physically having to do it. 

You plopped down onto the couch next to Heeseung, the necklace sitting beautifully against your collarbones. 

Oh, did Jake want his lips on your neck right now. 

“Damnit!” Sunghoon shouted, tossing the Nintendo Controller onto the coffee, “Why are you so damn good?!” 

Heeseung raised a brow, “It’s Mario Kart??? It doesn’t take skill??” 

Jay patted his back, “At least you aren’t last place, like someone sitting in the corner over there,” 

And then all eyes went to Jake.

“Oh, fuck off!” he snapped, “I don’t play Mario Kart!” 

You smiled at your friends, eyes connecting with Jake’s. 

He gave you his flirty smile, eyes leaving yours, and went back to the TV as the next race started. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Last night in the hot tub replayed in your mind on a loop. The way his hands felt against your skin, how his lips fit perfectly to yours. How his cock felt…You couldn’t help but wonder if he went to bed last night too with his brain flooding of you. 

And he did. 

Having sex with you was everything Jake imagined it to be. It was actually BETTER than he imagined it. To finally feel you wrapped around his cock and hear your pretty moans in his ears. Oh, it was heaven. 

The only issue now is…well…he wants more. So much more. 

He spent most of his time last night after the hot tub sex thinking the next moment he’d be able to fuck you. Thinking how he’d be able to get you alone long enough or even have the opportunity to get you alone. 

Another problem is, that those chances are slim. 

You lifted the collar of your hoodie over your neck, not wanting to chance your brother, or really anyone, seeing Jake’s necklace. 

You both crossed a line and now have to deal with the secret of it. 

The sound of the washing machine went off, telling you your laundry was finished. 

You quickly jumped from the couch. 

“What are we doing for lunch?” Jay finally said, “Y/N? What do you think?

You stopped halfway out of the living room, turning back to look at your brother, “Why not just order takeout?” 

Jay shrugged, “Guys?” 

As the boys discussed lunch, you finished your walk back to the laundry room. 

By the time you transferred your wet clothes into the dryer, Jake walked in, “Is the washer open now?” 

You gave him a nod, closing the dryer door and turning it on. 

“What did you decide for lunch?” you asked, leaning against the dryer. 

Jake shoved his dirty clothes into the washing machine, “We decided on takeout like you suggested.” 

You nodded, “Nice, I’ll go tell Jay what I want.” 

You barely were out of the room when Jake’s hand wrapped around your wrist. 

He pulled you back, leaning you back against the dryer, “Stay, please.” 

Jake’s free hand gripped the door, barely leaving it open a crack. 

Before you could ask him anything else, his hands cupped your face, his lips crashing to yours. 

You kissed him back, your hands pulling at his jacket, bringing him closer to you. 

Jake has been waiting since watching you walk up those stairs last night to kiss you again. To feel you pressed to him again. 

With one last passionate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, “Jay already knows your order, no need to leave.” 

It was true your brother knew your food orders, which was all you needed to stay in place even after Jake removed himself from you to finish starting his laundry. 

Once the washer was started, he leaned against it beside you, crossing his arms, “Can I ask you something?” 

You nudged his arm, “Yes, of course! We’ve known each other for our whole lives, you can ask me anything.” 

“Can I sneak up to your room tonight?” 

It was a simple question, yet it was enough to make your heart stop. He bit the inside of his mouth, anxiously waiting for your answer. 

His question was proof that last night wasn’t a one-time thing. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind it. If Jay’s bedroom wasn’t right beside yours. 

“Jake,” you whispered, peeking your eyes between the cracked door, “You know his bedroom is right beside mine, right? And my parents' room down the hall?” 

Jake shrugged, “And? That’s the point of sneaking into your room like we are teenagers.” 

You tried to not laugh, looking away from him and his goofy grin. 

“Come onnnn baby,” he teased, pulling you to his chest, “Let me shove that pretty face of yours face down into your pillows while I fuck you so good from behind.” 

He slid his hands down to your ass, squeezing the fat while he pressed his hard length against you, his lips finding your neck, “Wanna fuck you so hard and watch my necklace bounce against your pretty collarbones.”

You were melting under his touch. Folding so hard for him. He makes your heart race faster than anyone else ever has. 

“Please…” you softly moaned, hoping he heard you over the sounds of the machines. 

He did. Hearing you beg for him to fold you like an omelet later tonight was turning him on so badly. He thrust his cock harder against you. 

“Get on your knees, baby,” Jake whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine. 

You dropped down with no hesitation, hands already reaching for the buttons of his jeans, helping him slide them down along with his boxers in one motion. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock resting against his abdomen. 

Jake stroked himself, watching how undone you’re already becoming for him, “Such a good girl for me. Put your hands on my thighs, and stick that pretty tongue out.” 

You did what you were told, hands resting against his toned thighs, tongue sliding out of your mouth. 

“Fuck…” 

He placed the tip onto your tongue, immediately wrapping the muscle around him, taking him completely in your mouth. 

Jake groaned, his hands gripping the edges of the washing machine and praying his knees wouldn't fail him now. 

You bobbed your head, tongue licking up his shaft all the way to the top, spreading his precum and mixing it with your saliva. 

Lifting your hand from his thigh, you wrapped it around his length, following the motions as your mouth. 

Fuck you were sucking him off so good. His mind went cloudy, the only thing he focused on was how fucking good your mouth felt. 

Jake pulled your long hair into a ponytail, wrapping the locks between his fingers and giving it a tight pull. 

You moaned against him, the vibrations sending gasping out of his mouth, his hips fucking forward, “Oh, fuck…Y/N, fuck.” 

Jake pulled your hair slightly harder, not wanting to hurt you, his dick hitting the back of your throat as he fucked your mouth. 

Your hands found his thighs again, fingers digging into his skin. You were losing yourself against his cock, knowing full well your panties were soaked. 

You looked up at him, seeing how much of a mess he was. Pupils were blown out, mouth opened, chest heaving. 

Who knew you could make such a mess of him? 

“Sucking me off so good, Y/N. I’m…fuck I’m, I’m gonna cum.” 

You stuck your tongue out further, giving him more access to the back of your throat as he continued to face fuck you until his warm load shot down your throat. 

“Clench your lips,” he whispered between breaths. You did as you were told, him slowly sliding his dick from your lips, “Swallow and show me.” 

You gulped it down, opening your mouth wide with your tongue sticking out, showing him the proof. 

Jake smirked, using your hair that was still wrapped around his hands to pull you back up to your feet, “Such a dirty girl, only for me, ya?” 

You nodded, licking the side of your lips.

He gave you one final kiss, then pulled his boxers and jeans back over his hips. 

The laughter from your brother and friends from the living room filled the house while they cheered over their video games. 

Jake’s fingers adjusted his necklace on your neck, fingers rubbing up to your jaw, his heart did flips seeing how you stared back at him with your fucked out lips. 

“Let’s go back, can’t let them get too suspicious.” 

Jake watched as you left, carrying your laundry basket quickly up the stairs to your room. 

He leaned back against the washing machine, hand clenching his shirt, feeling the rush of his heartbeat. 

Oh, he’s in deep trouble. 

—

Jake’s promise to fuck you face down ass up was fulfilled. Yours and his clothes scattered all over the floor of your room. Your moans being muffled out by your pillows and Jake’s hand at the back of your head shoving your face deeper into the fabric. It was the best you’ve ever been fucked. 

Your bed felt empty after Jake snuck right back out your door and went back downstairs. 

You were scared tonight would be the last, but fortunately for you, it wasn’t. 

The following night he quietly knocked on your door before quickly slipping in and crawling into bed with you. 

This went on for the rest of the week. The two of you finding time throughout the day to have a quick make-out session just for him to crawl into your bed at night. 

But it wasn’t always the rough sex you’d have. One night Jake cuddled you until you fell asleep before quietly exiting your bedroom. One night he held you in his arms listening to you talk about your classes back at college and the friends you had. One night he laid his head against your chest, listening to the sweet sound of your breathing and heartbeat. And then, oh god that night, it wasn’t rough sex or even a good fuck. He made love to you. 

He hovered over you, one hand gently cupping your face as he squeezed your leg that was wrapped around his waist. Soft and slow thrusts were completely turned on just from being with each other and the feeling of skin-to-skin contact. How softly he’d kiss you and tell you how pretty you are. How lucky he was to have you in his life. 

That’s the night you completely folded. You fell in love with him. It wasn’t about the sex anymore. It was about him. About the man you’ve known your whole life, that you grew with and watched him become who he is today. 

Your feelings for him ran deep. 

The secret meet-ups during the day turned into playful kisses, him wrapping you up in his arms and hugging you tightly. 

You were really screwed. 

The final week of vacation was half over and Jake was dreading the finale. He wasn’t ready to leave you yet. Wasn’t ready to let you go. Knowing damn well the minute you go your separate ways he would lose his goddamn mind. 

All because of Jay’s rules. All because of the fucking “off limits”. 

You and Sunghoon made lunch for everyone, giving your brother a day off from cooking. 

Since you weren’t the best cook, ramen was on the menu. 

You prepared the noodles and broth while Sunghoon prepared the meat. 

“You guys both know that if this ramen turns out like shit it won’t be me beating your asses right?” your brother teased, his eyes looking between Jake and Heeseung. 

“Yeah yeah fuck off,” Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “We know the ramen lovers will lose their shits. They’ll survive.” 

“Hey now,” Jake snipped, turning around to face his friend, “I am so serious about my ramen!” 

Heeseung agreed, high-fiving Jake, “We don’t fuck around when it comes to our ramen.” 

You finished up two bowls, rolling your eyes as you set the first fresh bowls in front of the ramyeonz, “You both are so annoying!” 

“They are, aren’t…they.” Jay’s eyes fixated on the necklace around your neck. He barely noticed it with the way your sweatshirt covered it. But when you bent down just right to put the bowls in front of Heeseung and Jake, it became noticeable. 

If it weren’t for Heeseung sitting to his left, and Jake sitting in front of him, Jay wouldn’t have clocked the necklace as suspicious and went on about his day. 

But the necklace looked familiar, and all it took was Jay’s eyes to wander to his best friend, no longer seeing the silver chain sitting against his neck. 

“Can’t believe I’ve spent my whole life stuck with annoying boys like you!” You teased them, earning a middle finger from Heeseung and Jake scoffing out an “whatever” trying to shove you playfully but missing as you were too quick to back away. 

“We are men! And you totally love us!” Heeseung said with a mouthful of ramen, “Doesn’t she Jake? We are the extra brothers you didn’t ask for.” 

Jay clocked the look on Jake’s face, the awkward smile he had, and the way he was hesitant to answer, “Y-yeah. Of course.” 

“We are stuck with you just as much as you’re stuck with us,” Sunghoon added, “Get over it.” 

You elbowed him, “Whatever Hoon!” his smile and laugh causing your own to form. These boys were truly dear to your heart, and it took years of being away from all four of them to realize how deeply you did miss them. Especially your brother. 

Jay kept quiet most of lunch, his eyes wandering back and forth between you and Jake. Taking mental notes of everything in the small details. 

How you look at him, how he looks at you. How you sat beside him at the table when you usually sit beside Jay or Sunghoon. The little graze of Jake’s hand ran across your ass as he walked past you while you and Heeseung cleaned the dishes, causing you to scrunch your nose at him, thinking no one noticed. 

You all went grocery shopping to refill the food in your parent's cabinets and fridge, Jay taking notes on how Jake was always right behind you or straying not too far from you. Jay was hoping he was overthinking, that maybe the two of you got closer after the bar fight last week, but something didn’t sit right with Jay. 

He lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling that night, the sight of Jake’s necklace suddenly appearing around your neck. 

Jay shoved his face into his pillow, trying to chase after the sleep he deeply needed and wanted, wanting to forget everything and give his best friend the benefit of the doubt, to trust the bond they had and the rules that were set. 

That was until he heard your bedroom door opening and quickly shutting right after. 

Jake spreads your legs and wraps them around his waist as he bottoms out, one hand flying to cover your mouth as he fucks into you fast and deep. 

Both of you became a cumming mess. 

You pulled your shorts over your hips and Jake’s tee shirt that you stole from his clean laundry over your head. 

After Jake had his boxers over his hips, he playfully pulled you down onto your bed, his face cuddling up into your neck, “I don’t think I ever could get enough of your pussy.” 

You wrap your arms around his bare back, drawing small infinity eights, “And I don’t think I ever could get enough of your dick.” 

You felt him smile against your skin, “At least we are on the same page.” 

Jake could get so high off the sex you have, it was addicting, his own personal drug. 

His heartbeat fastened due to the thought of being away from you. Deciding now was a better time than any to bring up the topic. 

Jake sat up, his hand resting at your hip, “Y/N, can-“ 

Before Jake could get another word out, your worst fear came to fruition. 

The door opened with such force, your brother standing in the doorway, jaw locked tightly and fists clenched. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

Your heart stopped, quickly sitting up, trying to find the right words. 

Jake sat up behind you, “Jay, bro, listen to me,” 

“There isn’t a DAMN thing to listen to!” Jay yelled, turning on his heels.

“JAY!!” Jake yelled back, jumping from your bed and quickly sliding back into his sweatpants, pulling his shirt over his head as he followed your brother down the stairs, “Man stop we need to talk!!” 

You finally found the will to move, climbing out of your bed and rushing down the stairs at the right moment of Sunghoon and Heeseung running from the spare bedroom, confused looks piled onto their faces. 

“Will you listen to me!” Jake grabbed his friend's shoulder, Jay quickly whipped around and threw his hand off him. 

“Listen to you? Give me one goddamn reason why I should be listening to you right now?!” Jay snapped, getting into Jake’s face. 

“Woah! Woah!” Heeseung rushed over, pushing himself between them. 

“Because I am your best friend man!” Jake snapped back. 

“Yeah? My best friend?” Jay moved forward, Sunghoon now had to step in, pushing Jay back as Heeseung handled Jake, “My best friend wouldn’t be dicking down my little sister!!” 

Everyone in the room froze, Sunghoon and Heeseung making glances between each other, and then between Jay and Jake. 

Jake’s jaw locked, not wanting to say the wrong thing right now. 

You stood at the last step of the stairs, too scared to move. 

“I gave you one, ONE, rule. That she was off limits,” Jay’s eyes found you, “And you! I said no boys!” 

“Nah, man!” Jake finally spoke up, stepping in front of Jay’s line of sight, “This is between you and me. Leave her out of it.” 

“She betrayed me just as much as you did!” Jay scoffed, “How could you do this to me, man?” 

Jay relaxed his body as he leaned against the couch, Jake also relaxed, “Bro it just…it just happened.” 

That wasn’t the right thing to say, “How does it just “happen” Sim Jaeyun?! Huh?!” 

shit. 

Jake rolled his eyes, “Dude, I don’t know!” he threw his arms into the air, “It just did!”

“Stop lying!” Jay stood back up, “Stop fucking lying to me!” 

“Oh good FUCKING god! Why are you so protective over her?! She’s a grown-ass adult!” Jake ran his hand through his hair, “We aren’t kids anymore man!” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that she’s my everything!! From the moment she was born, I promised I was going to protect her from everyone! including you.” 

Jake chuckled, “Protect her from what?!” 

“From her getting hurt!” 

“I wouldn’t do that!” 

“What’s so different with her then huh?” Jay stepped forward, Sunghoon placing his hand on his chest, “What’s so different dicking down the girls in chem class and my sister, hmm? You’re such a play—“

“I am in love with her.” Jake spat out. 

The room fell silent, confusion not only on Jay’s face but your own. 

“What?” 

“I’m in love with her, man,” Jake sighed with a shake of his head, “I’ve always been in love with her. Even as kids, I…I always had this ache in my heart, never understanding what it was, and because of your stupid ass rule…I was never able to figure it out.” 

Jay relaxed himself back against the couch, eyes staring holes into the floor. 

Jake continued, “Yeah I might have been a stupid ass playboy and completely forgot about your sister and what she meant to me but good god, the minute she stepped foot into this house…” Jake turned and looked at you, “Everything I felt all those years ago became clear.”

Jay looks up at you, the hardness that once sat in his eyes a second ago was gone, nothing sat there except soft sadness. 

“Yes, I’ll admit, I had sex with your sister at first to release the sexual frustration, but the moment it happened…I was done for.” 

Jake placed his hands on your face, his forehead touching yours, “She’s everything to me too, Jay.” 

Jay let out a sigh, “What about you, stink? What’s your side?” 

You remove yourself from Jake, walking around him and standing in front of your older brother, “I love him,” Jay rolled his eyes, staring back down at the floor, “But I love you too!! Jongseong, you’re my everything too. You’re the best big brother I could have ever asked for, you’ve done your job protecting me.” 

Jay looked at you with glossed-over eyes, “Why him? Why out of everyone, one of my best friends?” 

You shrugged, “It just happened that way.” 

You stepped closer to him, pulling him into a hug, he gave in and hugged you tightly back. 

“I am deeply and truly sorry that everything happened this way. I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

Jay knew that, deep down he knew this wasn’t what either you or Jake wanted. That this was something that just kinda happened. And he has to accept it. 

Jake appears at your side, having you step away, pulling Jay into another hug, “I won’t hurt her. I promise. I’d die first before I’d ever do that.” 

Jay sighed, also giving into Jake and hugging him back, “Hurt her and it’s your funeral I am planning.” 

Jake chuckled, slapping his best friend on the back, “No problem there buddy.” 

Jay pushed Jake away, “Okay, let’s all go back to bed. I am sure we already disturbed my parents enough.” 

You let out a yawn, exhaustion sweeping over you. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon walked towards the spare room and you up the stairs, Jake following behind you. 

“Uhhh nah,” Jay snapped his fingers, pushing Jake towards the spare room, “You ain’t going back up there.” 

“Come on dude.” Jake groaned. 

“No, I’m sleeping in front of her door.” Jay pointed at the two others, “Make sure he doesn’t leave the room.”’

You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs, “You all are really actually annoying.” 

—

You sat at the kitchen table, peeling the potatoes for tonight's dinner, watching as the four boys and your dad stood outside in the cold grilling the meats. 

Your mom stood behind you at the island, tossing the salad. Her careful eyes studied you, “Want to talk about it, my sweet daughter?”

You turned and faced her, “Talk about what?” 

She gives you a soft smile, “About the reason your brother was screaming last night.” 

You sighed, turning back around to continue peeling the potatoes, “You and dad heard everything?” 

Your mother sat down beside you, taking the peeler and potato out of your hands, forcing you to face her. 

“Honey, your brother is a very vocal person when he’s upset. It scared us half to death.” 

She held your hands, her thumbs circling your palms, “Why didn’t you come and stop the fight?” 

She sighs, looking outside at your father, “We wanted to, but your father said it was best for you guys to handle it. It was a matter we couldn’t step into.” 

You understood that, everyone here is grown adults, your parents stepping in probably more than likely wouldn’t have helped anyway. 

You followed your mother's gaze outside, watching as your brother flipped over the steak with dad right beside him. Jake sorted the raw meat into separate plates, handing them off to Jay to be grilled while Heeseung and Sunghoon helped cut the cooked meat into pieces. 

Your eyes lingered on Jake, watching as he said something to Jay, your brother smiling wide and shoving Jake. That made you happy at least, knowing that your betrayal didn’t completely shatter their friendship. 

“Y/N, you love him, don’t you sweetheart?” 

You nodded, the tears swelling up in your eyes, “Momma I love him so much. But the fact Jay caught us the way he did is eating me alive. The last thing I wanted to do was see that betrayal and hurt in my brother's eyes.” 

“Y/N, can I tell you a little story?” 

You nodded, looking back at her. She wiped the tears off your face and squeezed your hand, “You want to know why your brother started that rule in the first place?” 

You nodded again. 

“It was Jongseong’s tenth birthday party, and Jaeyun just returned from visiting Australia, you remember that?” 

You slightly nodded, trying to recall the memory. Jake would disappear to the land of kangaroos at least once or twice a year growing up. Narrowing down specifically when this is in this situation would be hard to pinpoint. 

“Well, Jaeyun brought back gifts, not just for you know, your brother, Heeseung and Sunghoon, but one for you.” 

The memory completely came back to you. Jake brought you back a small keychain with a baby joey and your name on it. You had that keychain on your school backpack for a couple of years until you lost it. 

“I remember, Jay was irritated with me that day and I couldn’t figure out why, I was only nine.”

Your mother nodded, “It was the first, and last time may I add, that Jaeyun ever brought you back a gift.” she softly laughed at the memory, “Little Jaeyun handed your brother his birthday gift and souvenir, giving Heeseung and Sunghoon theirs, then he rushed away from the picnic table looking for you. That little keychain was in his hands until it was placed into your hands. Oh, was your brother upset.” 

“So he was jealous that I also got a gift?” You raised your brow, glancing back outside at your brother, jealousy was never something he had or even showed. 

“That’s what we thought it was at first, just Jongseong being jealous that his baby sister also got a gift on his birthday. Your dad tried calming him down for a good twenty minutes.” 

Jay and Jake started to play fighting outside, running further into the yard as your dad just laughed and took a sip of his beer bottle. 

“After your dad got him calmed down, we were finally able to talk to him about why it upset him, and you know what he said?” 

You looked back at your mom, waiting for the answer. 

“That you were too young for a boyfriend,” you rolled your eyes, of course he said that. Even as a child at the age of ten, he wanted you nowhere near other boys, “We had to explain to him that just because Jaeyun brought you back a gift, didn’t mean he likes you. But your brother wasn’t having any of it, kept saying over and over that the look Jaeyun gave you said otherwise. Then he told your father no one would be good enough for his little sister, that you were a prize that could never be won. So he came up with his rules. His friends were told you were now off limits, specifically to Jaeyun. And then he told you no boys.” 

Your heart melted, knowing that Jay’s rules were always just a way to protect you, that he held you on such a high pedestal to the point no male would ever be good enough for you in his eyes. That you did indeed deserve so much. 

“Obviously, your brother didn’t want you dating his friends, it would have been weird, mostly with how close the five of you were growing up. But your father and I figured he would have eventually let it go.” 

You shrugged, making eye contact with Jay, he gave you a small smile before returning back to the grill after his play fight with Jake, “But you know, mom, I am grateful for his rules. He has helped me get out of so many terrible relationships and helped me see my worth.” 

Your mom pulled you into a hug, “He loves you so much. You two are truly blessed to have each other as siblings.” 

You agreed, no one will ever compare to your brother. 

Your mom pulled back, rubbing your shoulders before standing up and going back to the island, “I always secretly wanted you to get with one of them.” 

“Mother!” you snapped, “Huh?!”

“What?” She smiled, “Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon have always been good kids. I practically raised them! If any boy would be good enough for my daughter it would be one of them. Just funny how the person who created the whole reason the rules came into place is the same one who took your heart.” 

You had to admit, it was funny. No wonder Jay literally lost his bonkers last night, questioning you on why Jake. 

“Treat him well, Y/N. And give your brother some time to get over it. He’s strong, and he will get over it. Don’t beat yourself up or let it affect your relationship with Jake.” 

Your mother was right. But you still can’t help but feel a bit guilty. Jay deserved the truth from the beginning. 

—

The rest of the week went by in a flash. And turns out you really had nothing to worry about with Jake and Jay. 

The two boys moved on like it didn’t happen, that their friendship was never on the line to begin with. 

Jay even was being his normal self to you. 

Dinner last night Jake sat beside you and even put his arm around you, and Jay didn’t even bat an eye. 

It felt…different. You and Jake went from secretly hiding around to holding hands, hugging you any moment he could, and weren’t afraid to sit close to you. The only thing he secretly did was when he wanted to kiss you. Which you understood. 

Jake still snuck into your room as well. That didn’t change. But the final night at the house, Jay straight up told him to spend any final moments with you. 

Unfortunately, the night went by too quickly. You woke up in Jake’s arms, the only thing that could be heard was the sounds of his soft breathing and his heartbeat in your ear. 

Jay’s alarms went off in his room, then the sound of his feet shuffling against the floor. You knew it was time to get up. 

You got Jake up, sending him downstairs to pack and get ready. 

Time was flying too fast, and soon enough your parents stood on the front porch, hugging each of you goodbye. 

“Please come back home soon!” Your mother whined, tears staining her face, “I miss you both already!” She pulled you and Jay into a hug. 

You fought back your tears, and you could tell your brother was too. 

Your parents hugged the other boys as well, telling them to not be strangers and stop by anytime they come home or to even come back when Jay does. 

But then the moment you wanted to shove away came, saying goodbye to Jake. 

You hugged Heeseung, “Keep in touch kiddo!” he said with a pat on your head, “Stay out of trouble.” 

“I think you’re the one who needs to stay out of trouble, Hee.” You pinched his arm, then moved on to Sunghoon, “You too! I heard all about your party shenanigans!” 

Sunghoon playfully shoved you, “As if!” and then pulled you into a hug. 

Jay was next. 

“C'mere stinks.” Jay pulled you into a tight hug, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your time with us.” 

You nodded against his shoulder, “I’m so glad you convinced me.” 

Jay gave you one last tight squeeze before releasing you, “Love ya, please stay safe and talk often, ya?” 

“Of course.” 

He gave you one last smile, before his eyes lifted over behind you, “And keep him in check, ya? I can’t do it on my own.”

You turned behind you just in time to see Jake roll his eyes, “Dude, I keep myself in check.” 

You patted his arm, “Sure you do babe, it’s okay.”

Everyone had their laughs except for Jake who rolled his eyes once again. “I hate you all.” 

“Whatever, go say your goodbyes so we can leave,” Jay said, shooing you away. 

Jake followed you to your car, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled your body to his, leaving no space in between. “I’m not ready to leave you yet.” 

“I don’t want to leave you either, Jake.” 

He really wasn’t ready to leave you yet, wasn’t ready to be apart, “Why did you choose a college so far away?” 

You gigged, “Because at the time it’s where I wanted to be.” 

“Transfer. Come be with me.” 

You smiled at him, cupping his face, “I’ll think about it.” 

Jake shook his head, sticking his tongue out at you, “Don’t tease me.” 

You touched his forehead to yours, “I’ll miss you, so much.” 

Oh, now Jake wanted to cry, “God knows how badly I’ll miss you too.” 

He pulled you even closer, lips connecting to yours. 

Jake kissed you like you were about to disappear from his grasp. Like the universe was going to rip you away from him. 

Your cherry chapstick filled his senses and made his head spin, oh the things he’d do and the crimes he’d commit to always get a taste of your lips. 

“Hey!!” Jay shouted from his car, his head hanging out the driver's side window, Heeseung and Sunghoon also peeking out their windows, “You gonna keep making out with my little sister or we gonna hit the road? She’s got a longer drive than us!” 

Jake laughed against your lips, head turning to his friend, “If you’re going to give me a choice then…” 

“Hurry up!” Jay snapped with a laugh. 

“Go,” you said, “You’ll see me soon.” 

Jake placed one final kiss on your lips, pulling away as he walked backward towards Jay’s car. 

“I love you!” Jake shouted freely, finally happy to say those three words he’d been holding back. 

“I love you too!!” You shouted back. 

“Call me when you’re back in your dorm!” 

You nodded, climbing into your car. Jake got into the back of Jay’s car, letting out a sigh. 

“Missing your girlfriend already?” Heeseung teased. 

“Man,” Jake shook his head, “Shut up.” 

Jay took off down the street, slouching down into the seat, “Don’t worry, man.” 

Jake slung his head back onto the seat, staring out the window, “How can I not?” 

Jay looked into the rearview mirror, “I already have a plan to convince her to transfer.” Jake smiled, “If I can convince her to come home for two weeks, I can convince her to transfer. It’s already in motion.” 

Jake sat up, slapping his friend on the shoulder, “My man!” 

Jay knew he had to get used to seeing Jake with you, and he already could imagine the pain you both would feel being apart. Plus, having you around more often wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would be just like when you were all kids. 

Jake sat back down in the seat, his smile never fading with thoughts of you.

—tags: @wooziswife @enhaslxt @woniebae @nctislifue @nanabbg @rikisnuggie @ericluvs @nyfwyeonjun @ratedjaeyoon @addictedtohobi @nshmrarki @hey-hey-heybitch @eneiyri @smiling-lion @loves0ft @luvswonyoung

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass."｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Stalking, Violence, Age Gaps, Teacher/Student, Caretaker/Ward, Bullying

Color indicator: Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Another dull morning, you think to yourself, rolling over to turn off your alarm. You pick up your cellphone and blearily swipe your screen as you clamber out of bed. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you really didn’t notice anything was wrong until you stood up and looked in the mirror. You blink, poking at you face and staring where your reflection should be, but isn’t. You wave your hand in front of the mirror. Nothing.

You look around, only to realize that your surroundings are different, too. The room you’re in is plain, cramped, and completely devoid of character. It’s almost liminal, in a way. Eerie in its emptiness. 

You need to get out of here. 

You nervously reach for the door and twist the handle. The doornob moves with you, but the door remains fixed in place. Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket, quickly turning it on. You’ve gotten a text, but the number is blank.

You have not chosen an avatar yet. Please choose one from the mirror before leaving your room.

Well, that woke you right up. Is someone watching you? You swerve your head around, checking the ceilings and corners for cameras. You try the door again. You go in circles, turning the whole room upside down. You try the door. Nothing. You check your phone. The same message appears as soon as you open it. You swipe it away out of habit, but it refuses to budge. Freaky. The time hasn’t changed since you woke up, either, though you’re sure you’ve been at it for more than fifteen minutes by now.

You decide to take a peek at the mirror again. You try to remove it from the wall to look behind, but your vision goes white the second you make contact with its’ surface. Your vision clears, and in front of you is a grey figure of ambiguous gender. It looks almost made of clay. Your phone buzzes.

Player avatar selection. 

Select a sex. Sex cannot be changed after starting the game.

1.) Male 2.) Female 3.) Hermaphrodite

Well, you’ve either fallen asleep or been drugged. Not knowing what else to do, you choose female, watching in horror and fascination as the figure morphs to accommodate your choice. 

>Next

Other customization options soon come up. You give the figure your ideal height, weight, and features. You change her skin tone, hair color, texture, and eye color. You watch as she slowly comes to life as your ideal. The person you’ve always wanted to be. 

Your phone buzzes just as you finish touching her up.

Set Name

You’re about to name her when the text fills itself in with your name instead.

Welcome, [First]! 1. Start Game!

You grimace, and hit play.

—————————

When you come to, it’s 07:00 again, and you’re still in that room. You glance at the mirror, only to see your avatar glancing back. You wave your arm in front of it, and she mimics your movements perfectly. You make a lewd gesture, and she does, too. Creepy. Is this really a dream? You’re startled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzes once again.

Welcome to the alpha of Degrees of Lewdity!

If you want to avoid trouble, dress modestly and stick to safe, well-lit areas. Nights are particularly dangerous. Dressing lewd will attract attention, both good and bad. 

The new school year starts tomorrow at 09:00. The bus service is the easiest way to get around town. Don’t forget your uniform and backpack!

1. Next

Your face pales as you read the text. There’s no way. You hit next, reminding yourself that you’re only in a dream, and that no one can harm you in a dream. Your phone opens to its home screen, where you see various apps, some of which are labled.

-Characteristics -Social -Traits -Journal -Stats -Feats

You open characteristics and take a look. At the very top is a color chart indicator. description of your body’s appearance and condition, underneath are familiar stats.

Purity: 7/7 You are angelic. Physique: 3/6 Your body is average. Willpower: 1/6 You are fainthearted. Awareness: 3/7 You have a normal understanding of sexuality. Promiscuity: 0/6 You are chaste and pure.  Exhibitionism: 0/6 You are coy. Deviancy: 0/6 You are squeamish.

Everything seems to be in line with the stats for the beginning of a playthrough. Everything except one.

Beauty: 7/6 Your beauty is beyond measure.

That’s…not good, if the blaring red is anything to go off of, anyway. 

You scroll down. Your skills are all ranked as F, which is actually better than the “None” stat they usually start as. That’s weird, but you aren’t complaining. Your sex skills, however…are all at C. That’s super weird! You aren’t sure what to make of it, so you choose to ignore it instead. 

Your overall school performance is terrible, with F’s all around the board. In real life, this would mean you’d picked the athlete trait, but your physique is baseline, and your athletic stat is also at F, so it can’t be that. It must just be inconsistencies from being asleep, you reason. That’s why your stats are all over the place.

Your status is normal, aside from your allure. Which is maxed out at “You look like you need to be ravaged.” You shudder.

You check traits. You have two.

Alien - You aren’t from around here! RPG like elements have been incorporated into your reality for a smoother experience.  Virgin - Your purity recovers faster. Your virginity might be worth something.

You open your journal. 

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence.

Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

You turn your phone off and look around. Everything seems normal, too normal. You read somewhere once that it’s impossible (or perhaps just very difficult) to read clearly while in a dream. Could you have been drugged? Or did you take something and then forget about it?

You pinch yourself. Ow.

Well, that’s not solid proof. People have reported cases of feeling pain in dreams before it’s just kind of really rare is all. Or, or! Maybe you’re not dreaming. Maybe you’re dying. Maybe you got into an accident somewhere, and now you’re in a coma. People hallucinate during comas, don’t they? 

You pinch yourself, again. 

It’s not real.

…You might as well see what this quest is about.

You leave your bedroom, and walk to Bailey’s office. You don’t question how you know the way there. You knock on the door and enter. 

“I know why you’re here,” he says. “You want me to release you from my protection, so you’ll be an independent citizen. I could do that. But there’s a problem. You’ve been living under my roof without giving anything in return. You owe me. Until you pay me back, I’m not letting you go.” He picks up an envelope and flips through it. Dozens of identification documents are stored within it. One of them is yours. “£100 should do. To start with. I don’t care how you get it. Knock on doors and ask for work. Rent yourself as a footstool. Steal it, even. Just have it a week from now. Or I’ll find a way to extract value from you.”

You nod and leave his office, returning to your room.

Your phone buzzes as soon as you close the door. 

Quest completed. New quest added to journal. View Now? 

Y/N

You hit yes. 

Time-Sensitive:

Bailey wants £100 on Sunday. Find a job and free yourself from his clutches. 

That’s great and all, but maybe you shouldn’t leave the orphanage today…or ever. Not until you wake up. You decide to just download some social media apps and scroll for the rest of the day instead. You scroll until midday, when you’re stopped by your stomach growling. Can you get hungry inside a dream…? You feel uneasy as you climb off the bed. Your neck hurts from the uncomfortable position you had been in, but that’s the least of your worries right now. 

You leave your bedroom and enter the main hall. A trim girl happens to be passing by your door, so you stop her and ask about when lunch is. She looks at you strangely. 

“Whenever you want…? Just go somewhere and get it. I don’t know.” 

“I meant here, can we get food here?” 

“Sure, if you’re underage. We have to provide for ourselves once we reach eighteen, though. You know that. Everyone knows that.” She leaves in a hurry. You go back to your room to watch “Gootube” videos. It’s not as pornographic as it sounds. 

You stay on your phone for the rest of the day. It never seems to run out of charge. Finally, you turn it off and climb under the covers. You don’t bother to wear pajamas. You sleep soundly, and wake up at 07:00 on Sunday, September 4th. 

Wait, what? 

You look at your journal again. 

Journal 

It is the 4th of September, 2022.

-It has been 0 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term starts on Monday the 5th of September.

Current quests:

Visit Bailey in his office by 20:00 tonight to recover your ID documents and gain your independence. Failure to complete quest will result in the day restarting

But you didn’t fail your quest! You completed it and…

It’s because you didn’t get a job yesterday, isn’t it? 

You sigh and climb out of bed. Off to visit Bailey again. 

“I know why you’re here,” he says. God, you wish you could skip dialogue in real life. Or in dreams, you guess. Bailey wraps up his speech and you leave, this time heading outside the orphanage to look for work right after. 

As expected, you bump into someone almost immediately. A voluptuous woman grabs you. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen all week!” She says, lunging for your clothes. You step back, but she catches you, lifting your sundress’s skirt and revealing your lace panties. You try to grab her hand and pull it away, but she’s stronger than you. She pushes you to the ground, and you land painfully on the sidewalk. You let out an involuntary yelp as your elbows scrape on the pavement. Is she really going to try and molest you out in public like this? It would appear so, as she’s currently straddling your legs with her knees, keeping them apart. You come to your senses when you feel a hand on your groin, and scream out for help. 

A taut man comes to your rescue, chasing off the woman and helping you to your feet. He treats your wounds and gives you a pepper spray charge. You thank him and go on your way. 

The dog pound is probably the best place to start with, you think to yourself while looking at the map on your phone. So you hop on a bus and wait for your stop, but not before a thin man sits next to you and rests his hand on your thigh. You shuffle away from him, and he follows you. You stand up, and he does, too. No one else is paying attention. You quickly walk to the most crowded area of the bus and sit next to a plush woman. She doesn’t look happy, but doesn’t say anything, either. The thin man watches you from his seat. You reach your destination, and he moves to follow you when you stand. Luckily, a tall man stops him, giving you a thumbs up as he blocks the thin man’s view of you. You give him a grateful nod and step off. 

Your shift at the dogpound goes on without incident. Thugh the employees tried to get handsy more than a few times, they never took it further when you moved away. You even took your lunch break at the nearby cafe! You’re surprised by how much character the place had visually, considering it comes from a text-based game.

By the time the dog pound closes, it’s nighttime. You pale at the realization. It’s nighttime, and you’re in Degrees of Lewdity. Should you risk taking the bus? Or should you risk the streets? 

If you’re on a bus, you’re there for less time, but it’s an enclosed space. If you’re outside, there’s more places to run and hide. But hiding goes both ways. 

You elect to go through the streets, sticking to the places that are the most open and well-lit. You get home without incident, though you swear you saw something in the alleys. 

You collapse into bed and sleep for ten hours. 

—————————

It’s 07:03 when you wake up. You have school today, so you look through your wardrobe for your uniform. You find it, but…why is it so skimpy? Sheer tights, short plaid skirt, tight shirt, platform mary janes and loose socks. You put it on, but the shirt is so tight it won’t button all the way, leaving a sizable amount of your cleavage and lace bra visible. 

Speaking of which, aren’t you only supposed to start with plain underwear? Why is all of yours lace? And why does it clasp at the front? You spend twenty minutes looking for a jacket, different shirt, or other way to cover yourself, but find nothing. Bailey bangs on the doors around the orphanage to wake the orphans up. You sigh and put your clothes back into your wardrobe before leaving.

You bump into Robin on your way out. Literally. He nearly runs you over.

“Hey!” He says running towards you. He doesn’t slow down in time and plows right into you. You help him up. “Thanks,” he says, looking a bit bashful. “I didn’t see you yesterday. Remember, you can visit me in my room anytime you want. I have something to show you. I’m so excited!” He runs off, and you realize you’ve forgotten your backpack, so you head back in and find it. It takes you another ten minutes to realize you’d put it behind the door. By the time you’re ready, it’s already half an hour past seven. You decide to see if Robin is still in his room. 

You knock, and hear some crashing. Before you can ask if something’s wrong, Robin opens the door and hugs you. “Look,” he says, pulling you inside. Your eyes immediately land on the shiny new game console in the corner of the room. “I’ve been saving up,” he says. “What are you waiting for?” He pats the bed beside him and you hop on. You watch him play for a few minutes, and the two of you walk to school together. 

Though it’s literally your first time meeting him, you feel safer around Robin. Though you know he can’t fight to protect you, having someone by your side does a lot to ease the mind. Plus, he’s one of the only decent people in the game. You’re glad, but at the same time, you’re uneasy. You wonder if he notices you’re not his childhood friend. That you look like her, sound like her, but you aren’t her. You wonder if he’d hate you, should he find out.

“Is something wrong, [First]?” You snap to attention. 

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I’m okay,” you say. “I was just kind of busy yesterday, came home exhausted but couldn’t sleep, you know how it is.” You wave your hand dismissively at him as you pass the school gates. “Where are you heading? I’d like to go with you, if that’s alright. Since I didn’t see you yesterday, and all.” Really, you just don’t want to be alone here. But there’s no need to say that. 

Robin smiles, and the two of you hang out in the rear courtyard. It’s nice, but you can feel him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It makes you uncomfortable. Has he caught on? You excuse yourself and head to the library. Maybe you should acquaint yourself with the other non-crazy person on campus. At least you won’t have to lie about your identity to Sydney. 

You walk over to the counter near the back of the library. A tall boy with a strawberry blonde ponytail and glasses is stamping books behind it. You smile as you approach him. “Good morning…” He says, yawning. “First time at the rental counter? You can rent out one book at a ti-” Sydney yawns.. “Time. You can also buy school-approved clothes here. Headmaster Leighton’s marked the prices way up, though. Students with a good record get special discounts.” He seems excited, though you can’t place why. 

“Books can be rented out for two weeks at a time. You can renew your rental at any time…” He looks down. You look down. Sydney has stamped his hand. You smile.”...Let’s call that a demonstration of what happens if you return a late or damaged book. My name’s Sydney, by the way! Pleased to meet you.” 

“I’m [First],” you respond. You and Sydney spend some time chatting. You notice that he’s oddly red. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask, raising a hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up! Let’s get you to the infirmary!” 

“W-what? No, I’m okay…” 

“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling him up by the forearm. You drag him to the infirmary, and he has to bend down to allow it. No one pays you much mind, though you’re sure you look a little silly, holding onto the forearm of someone much taller than you. You reach the nurse, who informs you that Sydney is perfectly healthy, though tells him to take a rest on one of the beds upon seeing the bags under his eyes.

“See?” He says, smiling. “I didn’t realize you were such a worrier.” You flush, embarrassed. Is pure Sydney supposed to tease people? His face softens. “Thanks…for worrying about me, though” he says, then checks the time. “You should probably get to class.” Right, you’d nearly forgotten you were at school. You thank Sydney for reminding you and leave as he waves you off.

You go to your science lesson. Despite your grade being at F, the lesson is actually pretty easy to follow, some of this you remember from your own highschool lessons. The bell rings and you leave the classroom, only to get shoved into a locker immediately. A boy with blonde hair covering one eye looms over you. You recognize him immediately. 

“Don’t get in my way again,” Whitney says, pressing his knee against your crotch. “Or I’ll put you in your place.” He releases you, but you know that won’t be the end of it. You hurry to math class, hoping Whitney will skip today. You’re tense for the first twenty minutes of class, but slowly begin to relax upon realizing Whitney probably isn’t going to show up. Nearly half an hour into class, the teacher River steps out for a moment. And with the kind of timing you’d only see in movies, Whitney waltzes in, his jacket thrown over his shoulder. You try to look away, but it’s too late. Whitney makes eye contact with you and grins. He walks over to the mousy girl sitting next to you. 

“Move,” he says. She does. You turn away from him, but he grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him.

This is unfair, you think to yourself. Whitney isn’t supposed to sit next to you unless you’re dating. Why now?

“Watcha lookin at, slut?”

This sucks. You want to go home. When is this dream supposed to end? 

Whitney tugs at your hair even harder. “I asked you a question, slut.”

How did you even get here in the first place? Did you really die? Were you in a coma? Whitney yanks your hair back so hard your body goes with it, creating an awful screeching sound as your chair lurches back. River walks in just in time to see you fall on your back. Whitney is sent out. He turns to make a penetration sign with his hands at you as he leaves. 

Math ends, and you head to English. There’s a crowd of students blocking your path. You peer over shoulders and heads to see the source of the commotion, and see a dark haired student on the ground, with two bullies standing over him. Your first instinct is Kylar, but you must be wrong. Kylar’s event shouldn’t happen until a week from now. 

You could try to help, but that would probably get you assaulted. Even if you didn’t, your fellow students would think less of you, leading you to getting picked on later, and potentially assaulted more and–

Fuck it, you can’t ignore this. You’re already shoving past students and blocking the bullies’ view of the student. “Leave him alone,” you say. “I won’t stand for this.” One of the bullies, a thin girl, shoves you down. 

“Sit, then!” She says, the audience laughs. You pick yourself up and ram into the thin girl and her friend. You knock her off-balance and she falls to the floor, screaming as soon as she lands. “You stupid bitch! You broke my tailbone!” The audience is laughing at her, now. Her friend is helping her up. “I’ll get you for this! Mark my fucking words!” You shiver. Hopefully no one notices. You turn to check on the boy they were harassing, only to nearly bump heads with him. You jump back, and the boy smiles apologetically. There’s something else in his expression, but before you can figure out what it was, you make eye contact with him, and the whole world goes dark.

Tousled black hair, short stature, sickly pale skin and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s Kylar. It has to be. “T-thanks,” he says. “I-I’m Kylar.” Your face drops, but you aren’t sure if he saw it before running off. The tips of his ears are red, you notice. You step towards the crowd, which is already dispersing. The remaining onlookers make way for you, though you feel a hand grope your butt as you leave. You turn, but no one’s there. 

You head into English class, already exhausted. Kylar watches you from the back. You ignore him. The plump boy sitting behind you sniffs your hair during the entirety of the lesson, so it’s hard to focus. You look down at your notes. It’s an unintelligible mess. Is this what it means to have a grade F in English, you wonder?

Finally, it’s lunch time. You head to the cafeteria, passing by the headmaster on your way there. You swear you saw him checking you out. You shudder and speed up. Upon reaching the canteen, you are presented with three options.

Robin is talking with some students at his table, they seem to be arguing.

Sydney is sitting alone, several piles of books surrounding him. 

Kylar is also alone, stabbing at his food with more violence than seems neccesary.  

Despite your self preservation instincts, you walk towards Robin to see what the commotion is. The lean boy is accusing Robin of ‘looking at him with disrespect’. Arguing with him would be pointless. So you do the next best thing and smile as you spit in his face. 

As expected, he doesn’t take it well, and pounces on you immediately. He tears open your shirt, leaving you only marginally more exposed than you already were. You scream loudly, and Leighton rushes in. You suppress a smirk.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” He shouts, pushing past students to find you exposed on the ground, the lean boy holding you down. He scrambles off of you, and you fix your uniform. The lean boy tries to explain, but Leighton cuts him off and sends him out. Robin helps you up. 

“Are you okay?! Why did you do that?” 

“I saw Leighton on the way over here. I figured if we caused a scene, he’d be the one to get in trouble for it.”

“Don’t do something like that again! That was really dangerous!” You nod, though you don’t really mean it. 

Kylar watches from across the canteen. +Jealousy

The rest of lunch passes without incident and you go to History with Robin. The two of you chat about his game before class starts. You learn some interesting things about the history of the town. Nothing happens during history, and you leave feeling refreshed. You navigate the halls to your swimming lesson and change. You keep your eyes down, but swear you feel the stares of your classmates. You think you hear a camera go off, but when you turn, no one’s looking at you. 

A taut boy follows you around the pool, and doesn’t stop trailing until the lesson is over. He keeps his distance, but it still makes you feel uneasy. The bell rings, and you don’t see him again. 

You meet up with Robin in the courtyard, but hesitate walking home when you see Whitney hanging out by the gate.

“Can we go out through the back?”

“The back? Why?” You nod your head towards Whitney and his friends, and Robin makes an ‘O’ with his mouth. “I don’t mind, but how will we get out?” You’re about to answer when a realization hits you. Right. You haven’t unlocked the tunnel outside yet, which means you can’t leave unless you climb the fence. 

“...Nevermind,” you say. “Maybe they won’t notice us.” You and Robin try to blend in with the crowd, but a hand on your shoulder quickly yanks you into the open.

“Hold it, slut.” Shit. “You didn’t pay the toll.”

You grit your teeth. “What’s the toll?” Whatever, you have twenty quid to spare.

“Flash us your tits.” There’s a crowd circling around you. You notice people pulling out their phones. 

“[First]...” 

“It’s fine, Robin.” You give him a strained smile as you unbutton your blouse. “Happy?” You ask, turning back to Whitney. 

“Not quite,” he says, grabbing the front of your bra and unclasping the hook. Your breasts flop out. “There. That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” You turn and quickly fix your bra, wishing it clasped at the back instead of the front like a normal bra. You and Robin speed away, then find a secluded ally to fix your shirt.

Finally home, you decide to check out some of the apps you didn’t bother with yesterday.

Social              

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

Primary relationships: 

Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.           Love: 100% Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Lust: 40%

You smile. It’s little different than the starting relationship in the actual game, but you’re slowly getting used to the inconsistencies. You’re about to look at the next box when your eyes are drawn back up to the pink text. Wait a minute, doesn’t that mean bad? You check the color chart to make sure.

But, why? Why is that bad? Isn’t it good? Or, is it because his confidence is low? Maybe the key word here is “wants”. Still, wouldn’t that count more as poor than bad? Whatever, no need to nitpick. You’ll check back in on it later. You move on.

…You almost move on. Why is his love so high? And his lust, too?! It’s gotta be a glitch, right? Right?

Right. You restart your phone and boot it back up. Nothing’s changed. You put that aside for now.

Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you. Love: 50% Dominance: 50% Lust: 100%

Another different one. Also bad. Terrible, even. You aren’t even sure what to make of it. You just met him, and his lust is already maxed out. His love is also surprisingly high, though only half as much as Robin’s is. You make a mental note to sit in view of the teacher during math going forward.

Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you. Love: 100% Jealousy: 55% Lust: 90%

Another case of inexplicably high stats right off the bat, though you aren’t surprised with Kylar. You move on.

Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted. Love: 77% Purity: 44% Lust: 66%

Okay, you’re pretty sure those are all just angel numbers. Or, supposed to be angel numbers. It’s kind of hard to do that with only two numbers. Though 666 is actually more of a demonic number, it still fits the theme. Aside from the strange percentages, you’re also concerned by the question mark next to ‘faithful’, not to mention the fact that his purity is already so low he’s conflicted. You haven’t even flirted with him yet!

You glance at the other named NPC’s. They’re all unremarkable, full of “has no strong opinion of you” aside from two.

Bailey The Caretaker Bailey doesn’t want you to leave. Love: 25% Lust: 99%

Leighton The Headmaster You’re Leighton’s favorite. Love: 10% Lust: 85%

Your stomach lurches. Gross. You are absolutely repressing that shit.

You check your reputation next.

-The police aren’t concerned with you, and have no evidence linking you to any crime. -The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. -You are considered a normal student by teachers. -Your fellow students desire you.

You grimace at the last one. You make a mental note to buy a more concealing uniform.

Finally, you have your fame. This one should be normal, right? You’ve only just gotten here.

Sex: Unknown Prostitution: Unknown Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown Exhibitionism: Unknown Pregnancy: Unknown Combat: Obscure Kindness: Obscure Business: Unknown Socialite: Unknown Overall: Famous

What?! Famous?! How does that— Ugh, forget it. You keep reading.

The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

…?

What…what does that mean?

—————————

Next>

[sugarwarachan]

hot for teacher

chapter three previous

pairing: shouta aizawa x f!reader

synopsis: You’re not expecting your day to fall to pieces at 8:21 a.m., but life hasn’t really been going your way lately. A string of lackluster dates, followed by two dead vibrators (with missing cords!), and the only outlet left for your mounting sexual frustration—the smut blog you diligently update—has been discovered by the one person you never wanted to find it: fellow teacher Shouta Aizawa. Who might just be the inspiration behind most of the fantasies you post about.

chapter cws: just enough plot to keep the porn coming, hizashi and rumi being super obvious in their meddling, Shouta ‘talks you through it’ Aizawa, more dirty talk than is perhaps necessary, the filthiest fingering scene i've ever written, soft degradation, ("good little whore" 🤭) d/s elements but never explicitly stated

word count: 3k

andy's notes: AHHHHHH i know this is late thank you all for waiting so patiently!! AIZAWA IS DOWN SO BAD I AM GOING INSANE

Rays of sunlight dance across Shouta’s face as his alarm clock blares. Scrubbing a hand over one eye, he hits the clock and rolls over, burying his face into the pillow.

Holy fuck. 

He’s imagined you before. Knew you would look gorgeous spread out for him on any surface, but the reality of watching you cum, your mouth hanging open in that soft o, brow furrowed tight... He rolls his hips into the mattress in memory. Jesus Christ. If he’s not careful, he’ll have to rub one out before he can even start the day.

Shouta grabs his phone in an attempt to distract himself and immediately regrets it when he sees the text notification on the screen.

Hiz(ass)hi: signed us up for something!!!

He groans and presses call. It’s always better to find out exactly what his best friend's up to as soon as possible. 

“What did you do?” he asks as soon as he picks up.

Hizashi doesn’t miss a beat. “Check your email yet?”

“I appreciate what little work-life balance I have.”

“Well," Hizashi coughs, "then you might not entirely love the surprise I’ve got in store for you, but it involves a certain you-know-whoooooo.”

“Fucking hell.” Shouta swings out of bed and passes a hand through his hair, nerves shooting through his stomach. “I’m serious, did you do something weird?”

He logs into his email, half-listening to Hizashi's explanation that he volunteered them both as chaperones for the upcoming debate team competition and texted you straight after.

“Perfect opportunity to spend some more time together,” Hizashi sing-songs, just as Shouta clocks your 7:35 a.m. reply.

Count me in!

An image of you tucked into his side erupts in his head, hair tousled from sleep and sex, tired smile on your face. 

“You good, man?” Hizashi asks when Shouta lets the line stay silent. 

Hasn’t he been wanting this exactly? A chance to get to know you more?

Shouta heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, I’m good. Just really wish you’d sat next to someone else in high school.”

“Yeah, yeah. Be sure to include me in your wedding vows.”

Shouta huffs a laugh and clicks off the phone.

He doesn’t know much about the debate team, except that he can hear Bakugou and Midoriya arguing from clear down the hall. Toshinori acts as the team’s usual advisor, but he’s been in and out of the hospital lately.

He imagines the last thing that man needs is accompanying a rowdy group of teenagers on an overnight trip.

He scans the remaining names. Todoroki, Jiro, and Yaoyorozu should behave themselves, at least.

Shouta: How many of us are going?

Hiz(ass)hi: 4. You, me, Rumi, and Y/N. See you tomorrow, sucker!

Shouta isn’t good in relationships.

That’s what he’s always told himself, but it’s not entirely true. He’s simply more deliberate, more exacting in what he wants than the typical person. He sees no point in dating frivolously.

Which is probably why he spent so much time deciding how to approach you.

When Hizashi came to him with his suspicions about your blog, Shouta gave himself an ultimatum.

One story. One glimpse into your head.

It wouldn’t be fair to you to form an opinion based on words alone; words he hasn’t yet confirmed aren’t simply fantasy.  But the minute he reads the story, it unlocks a hunger in him that can’t be smothered.

He knows in his bones that it’s you. The intonation, the cadence; he can hear the way you talk to Rumi, the way you speak to the students.

And you’re fantasizing about someone taking care of you and fucking you stupid in ways he’s only considered in his head.

He never stood a chance.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a last-minute, hastily-put-together trip will result in at least one disaster.

The minibus slowly rolling to a stop along a country road is precisely such an event.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Shouta murmurs under his breath, resisting the urge to bang his hands in frustration on the steering wheel.

You peek over his shoulder. 

“Did we seriously run out of gas?”

He barely hears you; you smell like jasmine and vanilla, and if he’s not careful, he’ll turn around and haul you into his lap in front of everyone on this bus. 

Rumi laughs uproariously, rousing the students from their slumber. Jiro glares at her. “You had one job, Yamada, and you couldn’t manage filling up the tank?”

“It was full when we left, wasn’t it?” he shouts back at her.

Shouto, ever-dependable, is already typing into his phone. “There’s an inn up the road.”

Midoriya folds his body over the seat to get a look at the screen. “Oh! Do you think it’s close enough to this one temple I’ve been reading about?”

“Oi!” Bakugou barks, sweatshirt laid across his face. “Could we prioritize where to sleep and not whatever nerdy-ass thing you want to do?”

“Enough!” Aizawa bites out. “Watch your mouth, Bakugou, you’re still representing the school out here. All of you, go with Yamada and Usagiyama and book us rooms for the night. Y/N and I will stay here with the luggage.”

He ignores Hizashi’s smirk over your head.

“Some luck we have,” you say, digging a toe into the dirt as the two of you watch the group disappear into the fading light. “Do you imagine they’ll have enough rooms?”

For the sake of his sanity, they fucking will.

But as Shouta looks down the road at Hizashi’s retreating form, he knows for a fact that he sent the wrong pair of people ahead to deal with room arrangements.

Hizashi and Rumi return in a borrowed car and a slapped-together reason for the teachers sleeping co-ed that nearly makes him want to punch Yamada in the head. 

“You want to catch up on One Piece together,” is all you say, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

As you and Shouta pile into the back of the car, you nudge him with a shoulder. “Glad to know they’re both as subtle as a brick to the face.”

He nudges you back, not caring that he’s being just as subtle as his two conniving friends.

The backseat is small, and he’s by no means a small man. Even without the bumps in the road that keep jostling you close to him, you’re already practically in his lap. Excited anticipation sets loose in his belly. 

It’s been forever since he’s felt like this. Perhaps never, if he’s being honest. And by the time everyone is settled in for the night, he’s desperate to be alone with you.

“I hope you're clear that I’m not mad about this,” you say as soon as he shuts the door and faces the reality that it’s going to be very difficult fucking you in a way that doesn’t wake up the entire inn. 

He takes in your face and smiles. “Not mad about this, either.”

“Should we talk about, like, ground rules?”

He likes how direct you are, but he also knows that a part of you is asking to stall.

“I’m no expert, but the color system works for me if it works for you.”

You nod, foot tapping an anxious rhythm into the carpet. 

“Nothing has to happen. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You smile softly, but there’s heat curling in the back of your eyes. “But I wanna feel what I felt the other night again. With you.”

He breathes out through his nose, and you grin like the little cocktease you are. 

Seriously, can he soundproof these rooms?

“You didn’t happen to bring that pleated skirt of yours, did you?"

 Your laugh is like honey. “I did happen to bring it. Should I wear it?”

“Please.”

“Got it, sir.”

The memory of your preferred words when you’ve acted out plays through his head as he suggests that you both wash up for the night. 

When you come back warm and soft from the bath, hair curling slightly at your temple, you stop straight in your tracks. 

Your eyes drop to his sweatpants and linger there.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. “I was, umm. Noticing.”

His dick jumps.

“You are really big.” You’re suddenly in front of him, one hand on his chest, the other trailing down his belly. “You know, I think I’ve been wet since last night.”

Shouta’s not entirely sure what sound he makes.

“Yeah, baby?” He hitches your thigh up. “Been a little needy for me?”

You whimper your answer, faltering in your exploration of his happy trail as he rubs the pad of his fingers along your creamy slit. Your underwear is soaked through.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind a little. Like I can’t get enough.” 

“I can tell. You’re shakin’ just from this.” He pulls your panties to the side and sucks in a breath. “Oh, sweetheart. This little cunt of yours is practically drooling.”

Ignoring your little squeak, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to the bed, folding your legs on either side of his thighs. 

“Have you ever been this wet for someone else?” He doesn’t know where the question comes from, when the possession grabs hold. He cups your pussy, one hand tight on your waist. 

“No, never,” you breathe out, rolling your pelvis forward into the heel of his hand, and then you frown, bottom lip jutting out in what he knows is embarrassment. “I’ve never even cum while being fingered.” You lean forward, resting your arms around his neck. “I always thought there was something wrong with me.”

Oh.

He stills. “You trust me, sweetheart?”

You nod, a mixture of eagerness and apprehension that makes his chest squeeze. 

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for good?”

You wave a hand. “Yes, yes, I know all that.”

He raises a brow, but decides he can address your tone later. One problem at a time. 

“Lay over my lap, y/n.” 

You arrange yourself accordingly, brushing your tits against his thigh as you do so. His palm twitches. 

“We’re gonna have a little lesson, sweetheart.” He caresses the back of your thighs. Your breath hitches. “Spread your knees wider, there you go. Lift your ass up for me, too, can you do that?”

Before he gives you time to think, he flips the fabric of your skirt over your hips and lands a crack on your ass. You squeal, fingers tight in the bedsheets.

“oh my fuck oh my fuck, harder,” you keen, thrusting your ass back at his palm.

Shouta bites down on his lip hard just to maintain some semblance of reason.

You’re fucking made for him.

“Did you say there was something wrong with you?”

Another smack makes the meat of your ass jiggle. You muffle the sound you make in the sheets beneath you and Shouta frowns.

“Nah ah, baby.” He lifts your chin up. “Let me hear you, huh? Can already tell you like being punished.”

“But our students might hear us, Shou,” you say, squirming in his lap. The nickname steals his breath. “I don’t want to be embarrassed like that.”

“Like that?” He raises an eyebrow and laughs softly when you rebury your face into the mattress. “We'll talk about that later, huh? But you’re right. Good thinking, sweetheart.”

Even that simple amount of praise makes your eyes glaze over. He doesn’t know if you fully understand how long he’s wanted someone to place their trust in him like this

“Grab the pillow, and use that to help stay quiet,” he directs you. “No one but me will hear you this time, okay?”

“Thank you.” You twist on your forearms to smile at him. “I know we do a lot of stopping and starting. Thanks for being cool about that, too.”

He has no idea what kind of scumbags have mistreated you before, but he’s happy to erase their influence on you however he can.

“Stopping and starting is par for the course.” He motions for you to sit up. “Should have done this first anyway.”

Shouta’s never been one to wax poetic, but the moment he presses his mouth to yours, he’s a goner. Your hands tangle in his hair and tug, demanding greater access. He grants it, grinning like a fool while you lick your way into his mouth.

“Stop smiling.” You pull away with a mock huff, but you’re smiling, too, and you don’t look annoyed in the slightest. “It makes it hard to kiss you.”

“We were in the middle of something.”

Your eyes gleam. “Are you gonna spank me again?”

He pulls you to him as a chuckle rumbles out of his chest. He cradles the back of your head and caresses the slim bit of skin exposed above your skirt. “Eager?”

You sigh and press your face into his neck. “Very.”

“Take your clothes off, then, and get back on my lap. Keep the skirt on.”

Shouta flips up the fabric again, massaging the exposed skin when you wriggle. The tips of his fingers brush dangerously close to your slit, and you drop your hips to chase the sensation.

“Ass up, sweetheart.” He jiggles his leg under you. “And answer my question.”

“Yes, yes.” A spark of irritation colors your tone. “I said there was something wrong with me.”

“Still believe that?” He finally touches you, knuckles sliding through your gummy folds, savoring the way your back bows at his touch. You’re soaking and trembling from this alone. “Your thighs are wet, honey. I’m pretty sure you’ll cum around my finger the second I slip it in.”

“Oh god.” Your voice is a reedy little gasp, high with embarrassment. 

He sees the mirror across from you on the wall, and an idea sparks. Rearranging you on his lap, he spreads your legs wide and grabs your chin, directing your gaze to where your cunt drools arousal all over his lap. 

“There’s nothing wrong with this slutty pussy of mine, is there, baby?”

The hitch in your breath is reward enough. A slow smile spreads across his face as you shake your head.

“That’s exactly right, honey. Nothing wrong with my girl.” 

He teases your hole with the tip of his fingers. You shudder in his arms, keeping your eyes locked on his in the mirror.

“You think I don’t like seeing how good I’m makin’ you feel?” 

This entire time his cock has been leaking pre and throbbing against the side of his leg. There’s no rush, he knows, because watching you like this will probably have him spilling in his briefs anyway.

He slides a finger up to the knuckle, plugging you up tight. Your eyes roll back in your head when he rolls his thumb over your swollen bud. 

"What’s wrong, sweetheart? That bratty tone from earlier gone already?” 

He adds another finger, the hand on your waist holding you still as you keep squirming. A feral part of him knows exactly how deep his cock is going to be inside you as he presses down on your lower belly.  

“Maybe you’ve never cum like this before because no one’s given you what you needed. Ever think of that, sweetheart?” His gaze scorches you in the reflection. “No one knows how much you like your cunt stuffed up tight. Little whore likes being used a bit roughly, doesn’t she?”

The sound you make is sinful, a shuddering sigh of happiness and arousal that momentarily stops his breath. 

“Please, Shouta.” You’re doing your best to be quiet, but he’s not making it easy on you. You fall into a prayer of pleas as he dangles you over the edge for just a little bit longer, the litany of praise and degradation sparking such headiness in your eyes he’s half-afraid he won’t be able to stop. 

“Keep your eyes on us. There’s my girl.” He ruts his dick against your ass, groaning into your neck. “Can’t wait to sink inside you, honey. Gonna remold this fucking pussy to the shape of me.”

He doesn’t even know what he’s saying at this point. He needs to see you cum, needs to feel your arousal drip all over his hands.

“Let me see it, baby, let me see how much you like being my good little whore.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth just as you shatter around him, swallowing the majority of your keening wail by pressing your face into the side of his neck.  

You go boneless and soft after you cum, limp in his arms and nuzzling into his chest like you belong there. 

“Gonna go clean us up,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. You hum in response, falling back on the mattress. 

He cleans you slowly, gently, and offers you one of his t-shirts to sleep in. You pat the space next to you, and he crawls in instantly, tucking you into his side. 

“I didn’t know it could feel like that.” You look up into his eyes, happiness radiating out of yours. “Thank you, Shouta.”

As your breathing slows and you fall asleep, Shouta realizes that, truthfully, he didn’t know it could feel like that, either. 

taglist: @phaticserpent, @magidzi, @hotlosergirl17, @luckybibucky, @heyithinkilike, @getoisinnocent, @personally4runa, @kennys-partner, @geektastic84, @bakery-angel, @constanttea, @aryuunachigiri, @sskorvid, @therefore-evermore, @one-scarred-mofo, @food4dead, @alphabetsoupyum, @cielito--lindo, @rentheannihilator, @juiceeypeach, @imastorytelleritsondvd, @ivydoesit23, @anotherfuckedupdayinthelifeofme, @deputy-azor, @ibby-miyoshi-nerd, @h3rmit-purrrrple420, @lousypotatoes, @hisbitch101, @greedygobbo, @ginevraxrogers, @alucardsdaddyissues, @minminroie, @honeyoru, @gothsquash, @aldebrana, @yansfanficwritings, @babypeapoddd, @fashionably-a-hippie, @junehasnotbeenfound, @citruki, @bitch-spaghetti-o

ONE LAST NOTE: If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you enjoy this, I had a lot of fun writing it. Next chapter is the two of them being freaky and nasty and horny and fucking like bunnies

[snail-day]

Shoko doesn’t exactly say you’re dating.

She doesn’t really do labels, thinks they’re kind of pointless, honestly. Why complicate things with definitions and conversations that only make people weird and nervous? She knows what she wants, and if she’s letting someone sleep over in her bed, steal her clothes, and hog all the snacks in her apartment, then clearly, that’s her person.

She’s busy. Her schedule is shit. Why waste what little free time she has sleeping with someone she doesn’t intend to keep?

Still… somehow, your little brain hasn’t quite caught onto that yet.

She notices it when you’re curled up on her patio one night, wrapped up in a sweater, hers, obviously. She’s standing a few feet away, shoulder leaned against the railing, cigarette burning lazily between two fingers. Her long hair is half-up in a claw clip, loose strands catching in the breeze as she exhales a slow puff of smoke, angled away from where you sit.

“You should go inside,” she mutters. “Secondhand smoke’s just as bad, you know.”

You don’t move. Don’t whine or pout like usual. Just stay quiet, and that’s what makes her glance over.

You’re chewing your lip. Hugging your knees. Your voice is soft, barely more than a whisper when you speak.

“I just… I don’t want this to be a situationship.”

Shoko stills and blinks for a moment. Once. Twice. Tilts her head a little, brows pinched together as she's trying to figure out if she heard you right.

A situationship?

There’s a long pause before she sighs through her nose, stubs out the cigarette on the balcony rail, and turns to you fully. Her expression is unreadable, but she’s mentally running the list: how many weeks it’s been since your toothbrush showed up in her bathroom, how many times you’ve dozed off in her bed, and she’s pulled the blanket up to your chin before crawling in next to you. She’s already memorized your coffee order. She knows which days your cramps hit worst. Your shoes are by the door. Your charger’s always plugged in by the bed.

She walks over slowly, crouches in front of your chair, and lifts your face with two fingers under your chin.

“There, there,” she murmurs, tone so soft it almost makes you cry harder, until she smirks. “You’re almost as dramatic as Utahime.”

You sniffle, cheeks burning. “You’re making fun of me.”

Shoko hums, brushing her thumb along your cheek. “Babe. I’m letting you drool on my pillow five nights a week. Who else do you think I’m doing that with, Satoru?”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Shoko watches your brain short-circuit and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your lips, all smug and warm and lightly amused by your ongoing stupidity.

“What made you think we weren’t dating, hmm?” she drawls, pulling you into her lap with practiced ease. “Didn’t I ask you to be my emergency contact? You think I give that spot to just anyone?”

You try to protest, something about assumptions and mixed signals and wanting to be clear, and she just rolls her eyes and plops backwards onto the patio couch, dragging you with her until you’re tucked under her chin, limbs tangled and noses brushing. Only the stars watching you both from above, the sounds of cars from the Tokyo streets from below.

“God, you’re exhausting,” she says fondly. “So needy. It’s cute.”

You sniff again, rubbing your face against her shirt. “You could’ve told me.”

She shrugs, unbothered. “You could’ve asked.”

You open your mouth to argue - try to argue - but it’s hard to hold onto indignation when her fingers are stroking slowly up and down your spine, warm and rhythmic. You melt against her chest, cheek pressed just under her collarbone, your body giving up the fight before your brain does.

Your eyes are already fluttering shut when she presses a kiss to your forehead, soft and final, like the punctuation on a decision she made weeks ago.

“We’re dating,” she murmurs against your skin. “You know that, right?”

You nod, barely.

“Good,” she says, a little smug again. “Now stop being a brat and let me take care of you.”

[luvrxbunny]

so much

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader

summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i blacked out again. 

Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 

This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 

Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 

“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 

“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 

“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 

“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”

(“... So fucking bad but…”)

Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   

What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…

“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”

Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’

The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 

He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 

He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”

“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 

You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.

(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)

“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 

“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 

("... strange, abnormal,")

“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”

He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.

("No matter what I do.")

“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 

You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 

“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”

(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)

You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 

You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”

(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)

You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 

“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.

He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 

You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.

You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 

“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 

(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)

(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 

(‘I love that.”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 4

Word Count- 3.1k

Warnings- Swearing, spoilers obi.

My fingers graze the texture of my history textbook. My eyes read through each line. Before I know it I’m at the end of the page, and yet I can’t recall a single sentence I had just “read.” I let out a loud sigh and closed the book, placing it back in place on my desk. Ever since the day I got kidnapped this has been a problem. Without being on edge, I can’t focus on school work, the people around me, or myself. Every time I walk by someone I instantly tense up to the idea of them being something supernatural. I know that Elena has told me everyone in town that she knows is a part of that world but she can’t possibly know when a complete stranger is. 

Worrying about who is supernatural isn’t the only thing that’s been plaguing my thoughts, either. All night I was tossing and turning with the thought of Elijah. Damon and Elena knew as much as I did about how he was still alive. Elena had told me that a vampire could be killed with a wooden stake, and yet it had only affected Elijah temporarily. 

“He’s going to destroy you.”

Kathrine’s words ring in my ears. Stefan had told me not to believe a word she says, but given that these people don’t seem to know what the hell is going on either, I’ve let her words get to me. The look of fear in her eyes at the thought strikes me to my core every time I think back to it. If a vampire that is magically locked up is afraid of this Elijah guy, then I sure as hell will be too. 

I jump slightly in shock as I hear knocking on my door, I untense when I hear my mother’s voice on the other side though. 

“Y/N, you have a friend here to see you,” I stand up and open my door to talk to her but freeze when I see Damon standing behind her. His lips curve up into a smirk and moves his fingers up and down in a wave as he stares at me.

“Your friend Damon here is so kind to drop in to check on you. I had no idea you were feeling under the weather.” 

I glance at my mother and fight the urge to roll my eyes. Although we look so much alike I couldn’t be more different from her. Where I actually take the time to listen to people and try to understand people my mother seems to only care about what benefits her. I’m not surprised at all that she hasn’t noticed my change in attitude these past few days since she never seemed to care before. 

She clears her throat at the silence she gets from me, “Well, I’ll let you talk. I have to be going anyways,” She turns to Damon who fakes a smile at her, “I have a work trip this weekend.”

“Work on the weekends, well that’s no fun,” Damon responds with a flirtatious tone that makes me want to gag. My mother on the other hand turns red.

“No worries, I always find a way to liven things up,” She leans closer to him, “Even though it would be more fun with some company.”

“Mom, you should be going now,” I interrupt before I throw up on both of them. 

My mother nods and says her goodbyes to both of us, mostly Damon, and walks back down the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief but then tense up when I realized that Damon had just entered my room.

“What are you doing here,” I watch as he looks around my small room. After my mother and father’s divorce, my mother wasn’t left with very much money so we had to make do with what we could scrounge up. After moving and divorce costs we left with a tiny 3 bedroom 1 bath single story home here in Mystic Falls. It looks like a shoe box compared to the other houses in this town, but I don’t really care since I plan to move away from here the second I graduate. 

“I need a favor,” Damon says to me as he picks up the stuffed frog I have on my bed and tosses it around in his hands. 

“What kind of favor?”

Damon places the frog back on my bed, “Well, after your and Elena’s little suicide excursion yesterday we’ve magically locked her in her house, and I need you Pukerella to go babysit.” 

I send him a glare at the nickname, “If Elena’s locked in her house why do you need me to babysit her?”

Damon rolls his shoulders and walks towards the door, “I don’t need you to do anything. I want you to go to Elena’s and let me know if she plans on calling the big bad vampire to come sacrifice her.” 

“So you want me to be your spy?”

Damon thinks at the question for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, “Ya, pretty much.”

I shake my head, “I’m not going to spy on my only friend.”

Damon lets out an annoyed groan and pinches the bridge of his nose as if this is the most annoying conversation he’s had, “Fine then you won’t be my spy, you’ll be the babysitter I hired for Elena. There happy? Now come on I got other stuff to do today other than arguing with you, people to go kill and stuff like that you know?”

Damon grabs me by my upper arm and practically drags me out of my room and down the hallway toward the front door. He ignores my yells of anger as he opens the door to his car and pretty much pushes me in. I huff as he speeds over to his side and starts the car.

“Oh and by the way,” I slowly turn my head to glare at him as he starts talking, “You might want to get some vervain for yourself and your family. It was too easy getting your mother to invite me into your quaint home.” 

—-

“We could watch Pretty Woman?” Elena asks Jeremy and I as we sit on the couch. Jeremy lets out a loud groan at the question making Elena laugh.

“Guess not,” She flips through some more channels before she lets out a sound of excitement, “Oh! Grease!” Elena goes to play the movie but Jeremy snatches the remote from her hand.

“No way, not happening. I have seen that movie far too many times because of you and Mom. I’m going to decide.”

It takes Jeremy another 10 minutes to scroll through the channels deciding on a movie. Every time he picks one Elena disagrees and they start arguing over it until they start searching again. This has pretty much been what we’ve been doing for the whole hour in which I’ve been at the Gilbert residence. After Damon kicked me out of his car and drove off I’ve just been listening to the Gilbert siblings argue. It’s not that bad though. Jenna, Jeremy and Elena’s aunt, supplied us with snacks a bunch of snacks before she had to leave for something she had to go do.

“Aha!”

I turn to the TV to see what Jeremy picked and cringe as I see the beginning credits for “The Human Centipede.”

Elena’s sound of disgust mirrors mine as she stands up, “This is no use. Y/N do you just want to go up to my room?” 

I glance at the TV again momentarily and nod my head, “Defiantly.”

—

“You’ve got to read this book I just got,” Elena jumps up from her spot on the floor next to me and goes to her bookshelf, “The romance in it is so steamy and the main male character in it is so hot!” She stops and blushes at what she just said.

“Don’t tell Stefan,” She points at me.

I laugh as I bring my fingers to my lips and pretend to lock them, “You’re secret is safe with me.”

Elena and I had been making small talk until I had mentioned that I liked reading, which caught her attention. She had told me she does too and we began talking about our favorite books and genres. To which we found out we’re both fans of romance, jumpstarting an hour-long discussion. 

Elena sits back down next to me and hands me her book. I strum through the pages.

“I’ll make sure to read it and let you know what I think.”

She nods and looks away as if in thought, “I can’t believe we didn’t become friends earlier. Why is that?” 

Her question has me stirring uncomfortably, “Honestly I’m not that surprised. I’m not that noticeable.” 

This comment has Elena furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head, “You’re joking right,” At my look of confusion she continues, “Of course I noticed you. I mean when you come to a small town like this it’s hard not to be noticed but what I mean is that I always thought you were cool.”

I can feel my cheeks warm up at her compliment and I glance down at my fingers to hide it.

“You thought I was cool?”

“Ya of course,” She responds instantly, “You’ve got great style and you’ve got this mysterious aura about you. I just never approached you because I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Her confession has me looking up and frowning, “Why would you think that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “You just kind of sometimes look like you don’t want to be approached by anyone. I just assumed. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head at her apology, “Don’t apologize! And no, I never hated you I always thought you were the cool one. I just think I have that look on my face all the time.”

Elena laughs and smiles at me, “OK, good.”

“Good.”

We’re about to start talking about books again when we hear the front door open.

“Jenna must be home,” Elena says as she stands up and reaches her hand down for me to grab. I grab it and pull myself up and we walk downstairs. 

We turn the corner and we both give each other a look as we see Jenna on the ground rummaging through some boxes. 

“Hey. What are you doing,” Elena questions her Aunt.

“Oh perfect timing,” She grabs a cardboard box and hands it to Elena, and then gives another to me.

“Whoa. Oh. What is this stuff?”

“Your mom’s files from the historical society. I got roped into helping Mrs. Lockwood,” Jenna grabs her box and stands up, “And by roped, I mean very excited to participate.”

I silently laugh as I try to balance the heavy box in my arms, the laughing stops though once Jenna closes the door and I lock eyes with the man who’s been haunting my every waking thought. 

“Hey, I’m Elijah.”

Elena and I stand there frozen as we watch Jenna interact with the vampire. 

“Elijah’s in town doing research on Mystic Falls,” She introduces us not knowing we’ve already had the displeasure of meeting. 

I freeze up and grip the box I’m holding tighter to my chest as Elijah walks closer to us. He quickly greets Elena, skating her hand before turning his full attention onto me. I’m visibly shaking right now and it only worsens as Elijah reaches his hands up and grabs the box from my hands. His fingers grazed mine for longer than needed. 

“Here let me take this,” He places the box back down and reaches his hand up to me in greeting. 

We both stand there looking at each other for what seems like forever as he waits for me to shake his hand.

“I don’t like being touched,” I blurt out. Elijah slowly lowers his hand and I might be mistaken but from the look on his face, he almost appeared saddened by that. 

Jenna joins us again telling Elijah that he can stay here and rummage through the boxes, to which he turns down. I try to find the wall behind Elena interesting to keep my line of sight away from the vampire, but I can still sense him staring at me. After another moment he tells Jenna he’s going to have someone pick up the boxes tomorrow and bids Jenna and Elena a farewell. I almost think he’s left us but when I look back over I find that Elijah has moved even closer and he gives me a warm smile and leans down.

“I hope to speak with you again soon, Miss Y/L/N.” My chest starts moving up and down rapidly, which he seems to have noticed, as I nod at his words. He doesn’t seem to get that I won’t be saying anything back to him because he stands there staring at my face. After what seems like a lifetime I watch as he moves by me towards the front door, but not before he lifts a finger and grazes the end of my sweater. 

I watch with bated breath as he shuts the door behind him. Elena doesn’t waste any time before dragging me up the stairs and banging on Jeremy’s door. As she goes to open the door I feel a hand grab my waist and pull me. My back hits something strong and I go to squeal but it comes out muffled as a hand moves over my mouth. I look up and freeze as I stare up at Elena to whom he motions to be quiet. I hear Jeremy open his door but I can’t focus on any of the words he’s saying as I watch Elijah’s face. I make note of the light stubble that runs across his jawline and the practically flawless skin he has. Lucky ass vampires. My staring must’ve caught his attention, as his dark brown eyes meet mine. Once again the corners of his lips turn upwards into a small smile as he watches me watch him. 

Jeremy walking by us catches my attention and Elijah drops the hand from my mouth, but not before leaning down, and what I could’ve sworn was sniffing my hair. Elena quickly grabs my hand and pulls me away from Elijah and for a second I almost feel annoyed at this. Clearly not as annoyed as Elijah though was lets out a snarl, making Elena go rigid. 

“What do you want?”

Elijah composes himself once, “I think it’s time we three at a little chat.”

—-

“Forgive the intrusion. I mean your family no harm,” Elijah tells Elena as he walks around her room.

“Why did you kill those vampires when they tried to take me,” Elena questions him as she comes to sit down next to me on her bed. 

“Because I didn’t want you to be taken,” Elijah says confusing both Elena and I, “Klaus is the most feared and hated of the Originals but those who fear him are desperate for his approval. If word gets out that the doppelganger exists there’ll be a line of vampires eager to take you to him and I can’t have that.”

A cold feeling runs up and down my spine at the mention of Klaus. 

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do,” Elena questions him again. 

“Let’s just say that my goal is not to break the curse.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion at the confession. Elijah looks at Elena and then brings his eyes towards me for a moment before turning back to Elena as she begins speaking. 

“So what is your goal?”

“Klaus’ obsessions have made in paranoid. He’s a recluse. He trusts only those in his immediate circle.”

“Like you?”

“Not anymore.”

“An old ass paranoid vampire, how much better could this be,” I whisper out loud to myself sarcastically. I look up and see Elijah looking at me with a small smirk on his face as he must’ve heard my comment. 

“You don’t know where he is do you,” Elena questions but he doesn’t turn his gaze away from me, “So you’re trying to use me to draw him out.” 

Elijah lets out a sigh as he turns his attention back towards my friend, “Well, to do that I need you to stay put and stop trying to get yourself killed.”

He gives her a smile and I have to stop myself from smiling at it. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Well, if I wasn’t being truthful, all your family would be dead and I’d be taking you to Klaus right now. Instead… I’m here and I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”

And the smile was instantly gone. 

This grabs Elena’s attention, “What kind of a deal?”

Elijah stands up and starts walking around, “Do nothing. Do nothing, live your life, stop fighting. And then, when the time is right, you and I shall draw Klaus out together and I shall make certain that your friends remain unharmed.”

“And then what?”

“Then I kill him.”

“Just like that?”

Elijah smirks at her, “Just like that. I’m a man of my word, Elena. I make a deal, I keep a deal.”

“How are you going to be able to keep everybody safe?”

“You know, I notice you have a friend, Bonnie, is it? She seems to possess the gift of magic. I have friends with similar gifts.”

“You know witches.” Elena nods her head to which I fight the urge to say “duh” to. This guy is oldddd, of course, he knows witches. 

“Together we can protect everybody that matters to you.” 

I watch silently as Elijah walks over to Elena and reaches his hand out for her to shake, “So do we have a deal?”

“As long as you keep my friends safe,” Elena looks over to me, “Y/N is one of those friends.” 

Elijah looks over to me and smirks, “Trust me deal or no deal. No one will be laying a finger on Y/N. That I give you my word on.”

I fidget under his intense stare.  

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Elijah turns back to face Elena with an incredulous look, “We’re negotiating now?”

Elena tells Elijah she’ll accept his deal if he gets his witches to free Stefan from some vampire tomb he’s been trapped in. Why has no one told me this yet? Elijah reluctantly agrees and they shake hands, cementing their deal. With one last glance toward me, Elijah nods his head and speeds away. 

Elena and I both let out shaking breaths as we stared at each other. 

“Any chance you want to spend the night,” Elena asks me hopefully with a sheepish look.

I nod my head quickly, “My mom is out of town and my brother’s at a sleepover. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to that empty house tonight.” 

[luveline]

Hi lovely!!

Could I request a KBD fic centred around Beth and her being a little different? 🩷 I can’t remember but I think you’ve said before that you’ve written her autistic coded so I was wondering if you could do a fic that touches on that please! Being a girl who was also different and ‘weird’ and struggled to make friends it wasn’t just hard for me but my parents too so I feel like the dynamic between the reader and Steve has been portrayed so well and the way you write Beth is so so good

No worries if not! But if you get around to this then thank you in advance 🩷🩷

thank you for requesting ♥︎ —you and steve struggle to help beth, but you lean on him and he leans on you and beth eats her dinner in the end. mom!reader, 4.5k

You weren’t the most normal kid. Beth has some of your strange behaviours, but she has a whole new gallery of her own, too, and it’s just… You had Avery, and you had Beth, and you didn’t assume that Beth was somehow abnormal because she was different to her sister —who would that be fair too? But then you have Dove, and you realise that the things that Beth can’t handle are things that most kids can. It’s not so cut and clean as to suggest that kids can even be normal, they all have their quirks, but Beth needs far, far more support for things that should… well, they should be easy. Or that’s what everyone says. 

“Come on, my sweet girl,” you murmur, in that same place as last night and the night before, Beth in your lap, wriggling unhappily every time the spoon so much as leaves her plate, “just a couple more bites.” 

“I don’t want it,” Beth says quietly. She’s already crying, her cheeks wet and hot to the touch, t-shirt rumpled by a squeezing hand. 

“Baby, you eat this every night,” you say. 

You aren’t necessarily an expert, but you’re good at getting Beth to eat, even on her worst days. But for the last week she’s been declining, taking smaller mouthfuls, or trying to skip meals altogether. “I’m too tired,” she says, sniffling as you scoop a little mound of cheesy broccoli onto her favourite spoon. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Beth, honey, what am I supposed to do?” you ask. Steve clears his throat, and you wince. “Sorry, baby. I’m sorry. But you didn’t eat your breakfast, or your lunch. It’s really important that you feed your body, isn’t it? What if you get sick?” 

Steve’s hovering nearby, his arms crossed against his chest. You try to give Beth as much privacy as possible when you do this, because you know she’s ashamed of herself when Avery asks her why she can’t eat her dinner, ’cos it’s so yum, Bethie, daddy makes it the best, but you know Steve can’t leave. 

“I’ll eat breakfast tomorrow,” Beth says, a fat tear rolling down her cheek.

Fuck, it’s such a big tear that you push her dinner plate away and let your sleeve fall over your thumb, wiping it as gently as you’re able to. “Shh,” you say quietly, rubbing at her little cheeks until they’re dry. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Did mom make you cry so much?” 

“I don’t want to eat it,” she sniffles. 

“Aw, baby, it’s okay. I won’t make you eat the broccoli and cheese.” 

Steve pulls the chair next to yours out slowly. He sits quietly. His hand is careful when he puts it on Beth’s small arm. “Hey, Bethie.” 

“Hi.” 

He smiles, but he's already super sorry. “You know what I’m gonna ask you, but you can say no, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

She sounds even sadder than he does. 

“Will you drink one of the milkshakes?” he asks, wiping at a new tear before it can reach her chin.  

Beth automatically hides against you. You tut under your breath, pity and love for her like a hand squeezing your heart as you wrap her into a proper hug. “It’s okay if you can’t, baby,” you say, though it isn’t, not really. You just can’t see her like this much longer. She’s boiling away in your lap, so overwhelmed that you’re lucky she hasn’t started scratching her neck —Steve hates it so much it brought tears to his eyes the last time she did it. 

“It’s alright, honey. Should we leave the kitchen?” You hold her face. “How about we go to mommy’s room? Would that make you feel better?” 

She sobs out a yes. 

“She’s not gonna be able to go to school tomorrow,” Steve murmurs as you gather her up. 

“I know,” you murmur back, pressing Beth’s shaking body to you. She’s getting tall like Avery, skinnier than you’d pictured, but she’s still super soft, plush cheeked, a weight in your arms as you push in your chair with your knee. “I’ll stay home too. I’ll…” 

“Call the doctor?” Steve mouths. 

“Yeah. Maybe.” You sigh, pressing your nose into Beth’s forehead tiredly. “Let’s go to bed, sweet girl.” 

“Thank you,” she says. 

“C’mon, Beth, it’s alright,” you say, half a lie. “Don’t worry about it. You tried your best tonight, didn’t you? You ate so much of your dinner even though you didn’t want to, ‘cos you’re my good girl.” 

Beth clings to your neck all the way to your bed. She refuses to be detached from you, even when Steve offers her a cuddle to give you a breather. It’s been hours of this, of her upset, and of you failing to convince her. She falls asleep between sobs, sniffling and shaky in your arms, and you don’t realise you’re crying until Steve’s wiping your cheeks with the same care he’d wiped at Beth’s. “It’s fine,” he murmurs.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” he says again. “She’s fine.” 

He climbs up onto a knee to kiss your forehead. 

—

The doctor doesn’t actually want to deal with it. “She won’t eat?” he asks you over the phone. 

“Nope.” 

“Nothing at all?” 

“Uh, she’ll eat fruit slices if we beg her too.” Your voice is scratchy with the admission. “A little of dinner, but only what she likes.” 

“So she can eat?” 

“It’s not–” You clear your throat. Steve rests an encouraging hand on your arm. “Not really that simple. She can eat, like, she can chew and swallow, but I can’t get her to finish anything. She just cries.” 

“Does she have a fever?” 

“No, she’s not sick. She gets like this sometimes, but I’ve always… we’ve always been able to wait it out.” 

“Right… is she lethargic at all?” 

“A little? She’s not eating enough.” 

“But she can get up? She can walk around?” 

“Yeah.” 

The doctor or assistant sighs long, slow, and it drives you up a wall. “Is she a picky eater?” 

“Extremely.” 

“The best thing to do is to tell her she eats what’s on her plate or she doesn’t get dinner.”

For a second, you’re so shocked at his answer that you can’t summon your own. 

“She’ll get hungry enough eventually,” he continues.

“I’m not going to let her starve.” Steve stiffens next to you. 

“It sounds like she is already. Kids do this, they test the boundaries because they’ve only now realised they have them. I guarantee you she’ll be eating normally by the end of the week, so long as you don’t bend to her every whim.” 

“That’s– that is not really helpful.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Beth won’t eat. We make her her favourites every night and she won’t eat it. Why would she eat something she doesn’t like later on? She doesn’t care that she’s hungry, she can’t eat.” 

“Let me talk to him,” Steve says.

“I got it.” 

“Let me talk to him,” he says again, taking the phone from your hand. 

Steve doesn’t shout like you’re expecting, but it’s a good thing, really. “Sir, hi, it’s Bethie’s dad… Yeah, it doesn't matter what she’s offered, or how little she’s eating, she won’t eat more than a handful at a time, and not for hours.” He rests his other hand on your shoulder. “No, no, it’s– I’m not asking you to admit her, we don’t want her back on the kids ward again this year– We want an answer. No. No, because this isn’t normal.” 

Steve’s brow screws up. 

“What’s he saying?” you whisper.

He holds up a finger

“No. No, she’s never…” He stares at your cheek. “We’ve never looked at that. No. And that doesn’t really answer us for what we should do today. She won’t eat today. She’s gonna collapse and then…” 

He rolls his eyes and offers you the phone. “Hopeless.” 

The doctor sighs across the line as you press the phone back against your ear. “Normal kids don’t need to be coddled into eating dinner, is all I’m saying.” 

“And it’s not helping.” 

“Clearly, Mrs. Harrington, you don’t really want my help. I’ve given you the solutions.” 

“We want her to see a doctor.” 

“Take her by Eskenazi general.”

You slam the phone down on the receiver. “Fucking asshole,” you scathe under your breath. 

“What did he say?” 

“He said to do what he said or to take her to Eskenazi. What did he say to you?” 

“He said she…” 

You duck your head. “Steve?” 

“He said she could be disabled, like– like she’s ‘touched’, he said, and a bunch of other jargon. But what the fuck ever, right? Dude’s an asshole.” 

“What kind of disabled?” you ask. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t know the word. He said we can get her tested.” 

You shake your head vehemently. You’ve seen how people treat one another when they’re different; you have no inclination to expose Beth to the world's judgment. “She doesn’t need to get tested, she’s just Beth. And– and if they won’t help me look after her then I’ll do it myself.” 

“…Maybe it could help.” 

“With what, Steve? So we have a word for her? She’s my Beth.” 

“Maybe knowing she’s different might help her to understand. Maybe it’ll… I don’t know.” He scratches at his scalp. “I don’t know.” 

You get where he’s coming from, because you’ve known Bethie was different for a while now, for years. You just can’t see how this will help her through dinner tonight. She’s gonna starve herself if you aren’t careful.

“I’m gonna go out and get more stuff,” you say, closing a hand around his fingers to hold. 

“Like what?” 

“She has these phases, right? So– so maybe she hates broccoli and cheese now, but she hated it before when– when she liked those little quesadillas you make. So I’m gonna go and get some tortillas and cheese and stuff and you’re gonna make that for lunch.” 

Steve holds your eyes. His are brown, and gentle, and pinched at you hopefully. “Yeah, okay. What else can we do?” 

Beth did not want to eat or even smell a quesadilla the last time Steve made them, but you’re running out of choices. 

“I don’t know.” 

He holds your eyes, unspeaking. 

“She’s different,” you concede quietly, “I just never wanted her to know that.” 

“I think she knows, baby.” 

You think about letting yourself burst into tears. Steve would let you. He’d hold you and kiss you and tell you that it’s okay —everything will be okay, you know that already. But if you break down Steve will make sure it’s hammered home. He’ll stop all the worry and heartache for a bit, just like he always does. 

“I’ll go now, while she’s still asleep.” 

Steve gives you a sad smile, as though he knows what you almost did. “Sure, honey. Take my car, okay?”

—

You bring back cheese and candies and enough chocolate to have each of your girls kissing up all night to a house that’s only just begun to stir despite the hour. Nearly noon, Beth lays wrinkled with her head in Avery’s lap. Avery plays with her hair, their own bubble of love you’re not privy too whispered into Beth’s small ear, while Dove plays with Beth’s socks. Even Wren seems to have come to understand that Beth isn’t feeling like herself, your littlest baby standing unsurely at the base of the couch, holding on to the edge for dear life as she babbles hellos. 

Steve sits on the playmat, ready to catch Wren when she stumbles back. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey.”

“Busy?” 

“Weirdly busy for a Thursday morning.” You smile at your girls gently. “Hey, sweethearts. Good morning, did everyone sleep okay?” 

“Mom, come hug,” Dove says immediately, her voice still scratched by sleep. 

“I gotta put this away!” you coo. “But you can help lighten the bag a bit.” 

You give Dove a white chocolate bunny. Avery gets a milky truffle the size of her palm. Wren gets a chocolate yoghurt, and Beth gets a pack of kisses. “No pressure, Bethie.” You give Avery the kisses, rather than make Beth hold them, vindicated when the quick flash of dread on her face is replaced with relief. “You can throw them all away if you want to, but I didn’t want to leave you out.” 

“Thanks, mom,” she says. 

“Yeah, of course. I don’t even want the thank you, Beth, I just like seeing you smiling.” 

“I got the day off school too,” Avery says. “To look after Beth.” 

“How do you feel, Beth? Well looked after?” 

Beth manages a real smile. “Yes.” 

You put the groceries away and appear with one of Beth’s old favourites: raspberry yoghurt drinks. You don’t offer her one, only sit on the floor by Steve with one in your hand. You give it a shake and peel off the foil. Steve glances at you from the corner of his eye. 

“What you got?” 

“Raspberry.” 

“Yum. Sharing?” 

You take a sip and pass it to your husband. He drinks a little. “Wait, they’re nicer than I remember.” 

“You think?” 

Wren slams onto her butt, but luckily her diaper saves her bones and she giggles as Steve goes, “Oopsy daisy, what a clutz you are.” 

She leans back and stares at Steve with wide, baby-pretty eyes. ”Wen?” she asks. 

“Wren wants some?” 

Wren babbles. “Yeah!” she says eventually. 

Steve helps her into his lap, four babies later and still the most gentle guy in the world. “Ready?” he asks, pressing the lip of the yogurt to her mouth. “Here you go, Wren. That’s it, honey, good job. How is that, is that yummy?” 

“Can I have some?” Dove asks. 

“I’ll get you your own one,” you say, scrabbling up. “Don’t want all Wren’s spit.” 

Dove drinks hers in a long pull. Avery nibbles her milky truffle. Beth, surrounded by food, looks a bit sickly, and she’s quiet for the next hour. You take them all upstairs for baths they should’ve had last night and outfit them in blue loungewear to match one another. Beth doesn’t look any better for it. She’s sweaty as you sit her back on the couch, but she manages to smile when you tickle the arch of her foot between socks. 

With Avery playing on her tummy in the toy corner (or, the toy half), and Dove following Steve around in the kitchen, you stick Wren next to you on the couch and try to relax. Beth will eat if she needs to. And if she doesn’t, you’ll take her to the ER and sob yourself sick when they tube her. 

“Oh, Beth,” you murmur. 

“Oh, mom,” she says. 

You side-eye her. She’d said it with a smile, and she’s still smiling as she lays her face against your shoulder. 

“What’s funny?” 

“You sounded funny.” 

You let Wren crawl on your knees. She curls up with her face to your stomach, gurgling until you pet her back. “You sound funnier.” 

“Are you angry at me?” 

You frown at her. “No, never.” 

“Even though I wasted dinner again?” 

“You didn’t waste dinner yesterday, you just didn’t like it. Not your fault.” You follow the slope of her nose with your eyes. “Do you understand what that means, that it isn’t your fault? Me and daddy know you can’t help it. So it’s okay. And everybody stops liking stuff sometimes. I used to like apple juice, but when I was pregnant with you I had a glass of it that made me feel so sick that I haven’t had it since. Sometimes, we just change our minds.” 

“But I thought I liked it,” she confesses. 

“That’s okay. Daddy thinks he likes lettuce, but he has to pull it out of every sandwich.” 

Beth giggles, rubbing her face in your arm. “That’s funny.” 

Your face never looked so lovely as it does on Beth. Even though her eyes are swollen from all her crying the day before and her lips are crusty with toothpaste, she’s sweet. You scratch the toothpaste away carefully and wrap her up for a one armed hug, Wren underneath it, Beth’s arms snaking around her to return your cuddle. 

“I know it’s not easy, Beth. I don’t expect you to feel good right now. But if you want to talk to mommy and tell me what you’re thinking about, I can listen. Even if the feeling feels silly.” 

“I don’t want to…” She fades off. 

“Don’t want to eat dinner?” you guess. 

She doesn’t answer. 

“Beth, you don’t have to eat dinner if you can’t. The important thing is that you eat something. For now, it can be anything. If there’s one single thing you think you can eat, then I can get it for you, and I won’t… Beth, I just want you to know that it doesn’t matter what you need me or daddy or even Avery or anyone to do so you can eat something. I’ll drive you to New York if you think you want a slice of pizza.” 

“Why to New York?” she asks, her nose wrinkling. 

“That’s where they make it the best.” 

“I… don’t want you to be sad with me,” she whispers. 

“I don’t mind. You don’t make me sad, you know. I just want you to eat.” 

“Even if…” She looks down at your tummy, where Wren wriggles and snuffs. 

“Anything.” 

“Can I have honey ham?” 

You feel your eyebrows rise of their own accord. “Honey ham? Like daddy makes at Christmas?” 

She nibbles her lip. “Yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes.” You take a deep breath, pressing your nose into her hair. “It doesn’t have to be for Christmas. I like daddy’s honey ham. Thing is, he’ll have to go to the store and get the ham and the honey so it might take a while. Is that okay?” 

“Can I have bread too?” 

“With butter?” you ask, too casual. Luckily she doesn’t notice. 

“Yeah.” 

“Like, a ham sandwich?” 

“I don’t want the ham in the bread.” 

“Okay,” you say, failing to hide your relief. It comes out in a sigh. “Honey ham and bread and butter. How about we pretend it’s Christmas and daddy can make the whole feast?” 

“Like, the potato’s and the sweet mash?” she asks. 

“Sure, if you want that. Even if you don’t want to eat any of it, it won’t go to waste. I love dad’s Christmas cooking.” 

She lifts her head to stare at you. “Really?” she asks again. 

“Beth, I just want you to eat, bubby,” —you sound as tired as you feel— “I don’t mind what you’re craving. I know it’s hard to eat food you don’t want to eat. It’s hard for you, you’re just a kid. You don’t get to choose. But I promise I’ll try my best when you’re feeling like this, okay? So– so no more crying at dinner,” you say, though you’re really pleading with her in a way, “‘cos I can’t stand seeing my lovely girl crying.” 

She shrugs off your loving but changes her mind at the last second, curling under your arm. 

“Can the ham be cold?” she asks quietly. 

“Yes. That’s no problem.” 

“Okay.” 

“Beth?” 

Beth tips her head upwards. 

“I know you’re different,” you say, holding her gaze, those baby wide eyes, “and you know you’re different, too. But it doesn’t matter to me or your dad, okay? I won’t get angry with you for the things that you can’t change. And… maybe, if you feel different in a way that confuses you or…” I don’t know, you think, grasping for the right words. “If it sounds like a good idea, maybe we can go talk to somebody. A doctor.” 

Her lips part. “Like Dr. Scandi?” she asks under her breath. 

Dr. Scandi is the paediatrician that treated her when she had her horrible flu, who she liked, because he was very tall and very quiet. “I don’t know. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. That I’ll try to fix things if they need fixing.” 

Beth is perhaps a little too young to understand what you’re trying to say, but, like she has ever since she was a baby, she softens at your tone. “I like talking to you,” she whispers. 

“I like talking to you.” 

Beth nods. You offer her a kiss. 

—

Steve makes his summer Christmas banquet and Beth, beautiful girl, eats three slices of bread with salted butter, and she eats every bit of honeyed ham that touches her plate. She even has a raspberry yoghurt after. 

Her empty stomach pangs at the sudden influx. Steve gathers her up and gives her one of his trademark post-dinner tummy rubs, her back to his front, the two of them in the bean bag. He rubs her stomach until she burbs, and laughs, and goes sleepy as a fieldmouse in a flower. 

Dove falls asleep before eight. Wren goes down at nine. And Avery, after a couple of minutes sitting with her legs swinging off of your thigh, asks to be put to bed as the sun’s going down behind the house. You turn off all the lights, lock the doors, and follow her to a still upstairs, Steve behind you with dozing Beth in his arms. 

“You okay, big girl?” you ask, pulling the sheets over Avery’s legs as she settles down. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she says. 

“Thank you, baby. I was just stressed out about Beth, that’s it. I’m happy long as you’re all happy.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you happy?” 

“I had a good day,” she says decidedly. 

You cuddle her, her shoulders shifting under your hands. She’s gonna get big soon. She’s almost at that age where they shoot straight up into teenagedom the second you look away, so you refuse to look away. “I’m glad you did, Ave. Thanks for looking after Beth today. You did a great job.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Want me to put a movie in?”

She beams. You shove FernGully in and sit with her for a little while things are quiet, smiling indulgently against her forehead as her eyelids start to flutter. 

“Love you,” you whisper.

“Love you, mommy,” she whispers back, her ‘you’ nearly lost, a stutter of a sound as she falls asleep against your side. 

You wait five minutes before easing out from beneath her. Her hair brushes her pillow, nose sinking into her buttery pillow case, breath rustling out of her as you pull the sheets over her shoulders and crouch by her bedside. You smile at her. Give her cheek a quick stroke.

“You alright?” Steve asks. 

His uttering is so soft you don’t startle, though you hadn’t known he was waiting in the doorway. Your answer is a hum as you stand, and his is a hand on your arm as he pulls Avery’s door closed and leads you to bed. 

With Wren moved to the nursery with Dove, you and Steve find yourself alone for the first time since the early morning. Things are quiet while you undress, though he does his usual routine and helps you with the tie on your pajama bottoms before going back to his own clothes. You pull the end of his shirt from his pants and slide a hand underneath it, feeling at the small of his back for stretch marks. Your finger bumps along them and up, until you're massaging at the space between his shoulders and he’s laughing under his breath. “Stop, stop.” 

“You okay?” you ask. 

He relaxes under your ministrations. “I’m fine. You know, I heard you talking to Beth, earlier. Not all of it, but most of it. When you told her she’s not alone, that stuff, I don’t know. I was so proud of you, even though you didn’t need that from me.” He turns his face to see you over his shoulder. You rub at a notch with your thumb. “I mean, you got her to eat. You always do.” 

“She would’ve had to eventually. You’re the one that made dinner.” 

“I don’t think she could’ve told us what she wanted if you didn’t give her all that patience.” 

You don’t ignore him, but you have nothing to say. You could tell him you love him, but he knows. Could say thank you, but you’re not confident you won’t cry, and you don’t want the headache. So you draw a pattern over his back with your fingernails, resting your mouth on his shoulder. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I get if you’re, like, tired, and this is too much for now, but… this has been a lot. I just want you to know that you’re there for them and I’m here for you, remember?” 

“I know.” 

You don’t wanna talk, but you know. 

Steve forces your hand down as he turns to you, rings of  purple under his eyes doing little to hide how handsome he is when he smiles at you like you’re hanging the moon up right in front of him. He’s all gentled almond eyes and his deeply kissable nose. You let yourself trace the wrinkles in the corners of his mouth. Smiling, you press a kiss to one of them. 

“I’m proud of you, too.” 

He kicks your shin. “Get to bed.” 

“I’m busy.” 

He kicks you again and pushes you into bed. 

“I’m sorry about all of this. I know it isn’t my fault, but I,” —Steve kisses your nose— “hate seeing you like that. Like this. Want you to smile.” 

“I’ll feel better tomorrow.” 

He climbs on top of you, putting his chin on top of your head and his leg hooked on top of your hips, pulling at your back until you curl into him nicely; he’ll have to move the sheets before he sleeps, just it’s comfy puzzled in like this. 

“We gotta find out what’s really happening with her,” he says. 

That’s more tentative. He’s hugging you to distract you, and it’s doing the job. You don’t feel as scared as you did this morning when he suggested the same thing. “I know. What was that word he said, the doctor?” 

“Autist.” 

You’ve read about it before. “I heard it was just a boy thing,” you mumble. 

Steve lets his hand slip beneath your ribs. “Maybe there’s a girl version…”

You lift your head away to see him better. “You know, no matter how different she is, we’re all gonna be fine.” 

“I know that, I told you that.” 

“Just wanted to make sure.” 

He noses along your jaw. “Guess what.” 

“What?” 

“We didn’t brush our teeth.” 

You let out a string of long-suffering sighs, agonised. Steve laughs and presses a kiss to your open mouth, promising you taste as good as you look, though he won’t claim the same in the morning. 

[availabie]

Roommate Nanami (modern au)

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

You’ve recently graduated from high school and you were looking for colleges to apply for; you’ve always gotten good grades and you were very liked in high school for your good and kind personality so you decided to apply for a prestigious university not expecting to actually get accepted; which you did get accepted- but now you have one problem. It’s in Tokyo. And you live no where near Tokyo but luckily you have a rich friend gojo who is always happy to help you out and he find you a roommate with one of his friends

Gojo picked you up from the airport and drove you to your new apartment. “Sooo excited to meet him?” Gojo asked teasingly. “Not really I don’t even know his name, also what if he’s a creep; yknow like those guys who likes stealing girls underwear and jacks off to them”

Gojo lets out a big laugh; you don’t know what’s so funny, you were clearly being serious. “Thanks I needed a good laugh” “I’m serious Satoru!” “You don’t have anything to worry about Nanami is good a guy he’s nothing like that, he’s like the male version of the Virgin Mary”

You roll your eyes at his comment

Maybe it won’t be so bad?

Once you guys arrive gojo bangs on the door “Nanamin!”

Once the door opens it reveals a tall man; blonde, brown eyes, muscular, very attractive although he looks like he hasn’t slept and he’s only wearing sweats and a basic white t-shirt.

“What do you want?” The man you believe is Nanami says in a grumpy tone seems he isn’t fond of gojos loud behavior currently.

“So rude all the time” Gojo responds with a playful pout

It seems Nanami hasn’t noticed you yet behind gojos large frame

“I brought you, your room mate!” Gojo exclaims

You step out from behind gojos large “Hi, it’s nice to meet you Nanami I’m y/n” you smile at him

He looks down at you he clears his throat “It’s nice to meet you too” he smiles politely and opens the door wider for you to go in and he takes your luggage from gojos hands “be careful with her old man” Gojo teases slightly hinting something suggestive to Nanami, which Nanami replies with closing the door in gojos face.

It’s a bit akward and silent for a few seconds so you decide to break the ice “uh nice place” you politely smile wanting to make a good impression

“Thank you, it’s nothing much. Your room will be down the hall if you need anything just ask me”

You simply nod and go to your room; it’s not big but it’s spacious, and clean which is a good thing.

You almost finished unpacking all your clothes there’s a knock on your door, “come in!”

Nanami walks in with a plate of food “I made dinner” he places the plate of food on your dresser. Dinner? You didn’t think you took that long to unpack.

“Aw thanks Nanami you didn’t have to”

“I wanted to don’t worry.”He says with a smiles and walks out your room closing the door behind him.

After a few weeks of living with Nanami you realize he has a routine; wake up early, make coffee,make breakfast,take a shower,get dressed, go to work,pick me up from my college classes(sometimes),make dinner ,go to bed

Seems like a long routine which it is but in reality it’s pretty boring so you try to spice it up a bit

Every night you’ve been trying to force Nanami to watch a movie with you; which he would decline every time due to the fact it would ruin his bed time routine forcing him to sleep past his bed time.

But this time you have a offer he simply can’t resist- doing laundry: he constantly complains about doing laundry even if he doesn’t say it directly to you it’s very clear due to his murmurs and mumbles he isn’t very found of it.

So, after he’s cooking dinner you go up to him using your kind voice “Y’know you should take a break” “a break?” Nanami asked confused

“Mhm from doing the laundry- I’ll do it all week!”

“That’s very generous of you thank y-“ he’s about to finish his sentence before you cut him off

“If you watch a movie with me tonight!” Nanami sighs slightly knowing it was too good to be true- but he really didn’t want to do laundry so he had no choice.

Once he agrees you smile ear to ear “don’t worry I’ll pick a good movie!”

You set up the couch with a few blankets and pillows and the coffee table with a bit of snacks you know Nanami likes.

You pick a random movie you’ve been hearing a lot of stuff about, so you decide to would be the perfect time to watch it.

You sit on the couch next to Nanami blankets on both your laps as the movie begins.

The beginning is good you’re both pretty invested in the movie; until a sex scene comes on…

You look around for the controller and realize it’s on Nanamis lap so you don’t grab it not wanting to invade him personal space

He clears his throat and skips the scene

After that it’s pretty awkward especially after you notice his raging boner through the blanket…

You decide to be bold

“Need help with that?” You offer half joking

“Y/n that’s highly inappropriate I’d prefer not to engage in such actions.” He adjusts himself to try to hide his boner

“Well it’s pretty inappropriate to have a boner next to your roommate, no?” You place one hand on his lap

“Y/n” he warns

You decide to test him once more placing your hand right next to his crotch

He immediately breaks.

He grabs your face firmly

“You wanna tease me? Huh? You think it’s funny?” His voice deep and firm

You suddenly feel your core get wet and you clench your thigh together and hope he doesn’t notice, but of course he does.

His other hand slides in-between your thighs feeling your wetness through your shorts

“Such a naughty girl, teasing me thinking I won’t punish her” he lays you down on the couch and spreads your legs, he kisses the inside of your thighs slowly inching higher to your throbbing pussy.

“P-please..” you whine your hips bucking slightly desperate for some stimulation

“Please what? Be more specific sweetie”

“Please touch me” you mumble embarrassed “good girl” he slowly slides your shorts and panties down in one pull “all wet already? Haven’t even touched you”

Your face flushes, he chuckles and rubs your clit slowly, firmly applying pressure.

Your hips buck up and you let out a desperate moan “Nanami!”

He begins to lick your slit still playing with your clit “mmm tastes amazing” he groans into your folds.

It’s almost as if a switch flip; he’s suddenly eating your pussy with vigor his hands holding your hips down, leaving hand prints on them.

You grab his hair moaning loudly screaming his name in pleasure “n-na-namin!” You squeal feeling two fingers enter your wet hole.

He can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers knowing you’re about to cum “it’s ok let go for me” he mumbles into your pussy

You try to hold back your orgasm but it’s no help you’re already coming all over his face; gripping his hair like a vice.

He keeps going,cleaning your pussy making sure it’s sparkling clean, as he pulls away he spreads your legs wider and begins to pull down his sweat pants

“My turn.”

[lotties-ashwagandha]

OFFERINGS

poly!adult!yellowjackets x fem!reader

NSFW! you try to blackmail them for money, but end up with them on your doorstep, and they’re ready to kill you until they realize who you are. the anons were going to smite me down if i didn’t write this, so enjoy :) toxic weirdo shit in this fic so consider this your formal warning. AU where lottie still has her wellness center bc miss cult leader deserves to be happy. also misty is mentioned in this fic but she doesn’t get busy bc in my head she’s ace and possibly aro and I have to follow that.

“You should go,” Lottie says, pulling on a robe. “You’ll be late for work.”

In theory, you could stay for another hour or so, if this wasn’t all so transactional — but you know she doesn’t like the idea of anyone seeing you sneaking away out of her cabin in the mornings, so she sends you away at dawn. If she had more self control, she would have you out before that — but the nights you come over to the wellness center are the only nights Lottie allows herself to really be free, and the two of you usually end up drinking or smoking something so potent that you don’t remember making it into bed together in the first place.

And most of the time, Natalie is no help — she hasn’t been ever since she and Lottie started dating, and you started coming over to be shared between them.

You don’t know how Lottie still manages to function at such an early hour afterwards, and every time, while Natalie sleeps in. If it were up to you, you’d take a full day of recovery. Instead you are on the road driving at sunrise back to your apartment, so that you can change and look somewhat presentable at work in a few hours.

You don’t feel bad about the letter you slipped into their mailbox this time. You should, but you don’t — and you don’t regret sending variations of the same to the rest of the Yellowjackets, because all of them are wealthier than you, and even if you were to receive double the amount of money you were blackmailing them for, it wouldn’t put financial strain on them at all. And now, above all, you need extra money — the current financial landscape makes it nearly impossible to get a job that pays well enough for you to live comfortably.

While you’re driving, your phone starts to ring. The caller ID surprises you with Shauna Sadecki.

“I need you to stop by the house,” she says as soon as you pick up. “It’s important.”

You haven’t spoken to Shauna in a long time. You’re older than her daughter by a long shot, but your families are familiar since your younger sister has been best friends with Callie since she started high school and you were already in college. “Is everything okay?”

“I know you sell Callie weed,” Shauna states.

That’s new. It’s not true, either — not really. “I don’t sell your daughter weed.”

“You give it to someone who gives it to someone who gives it to her,” Shauna sighs. You can’t deny that. “I don’t mind. But she’s run out, and I… I’m going through some shit, and I need you to stop by with your magic shit.”

__

Shauna lights the first joint in front of you. She savors the smoke, closing her eyes for a moment as new calmness sweeps over her features.

“Is everything alright?” You ask. Out of the corner of your eye you see the envelope you sent.

She opens her eyes and unpromptedly glances down at the envelope before turning to look out the kitchen window. “Everything’s fine.”

You nod, clearing your throat awkwardly and pocketing the money she hands you.

“What about you?” Shauna asks. “Haven’t seen you in a long time. Your sister still comes over at least three times a week, though.”

“I’ve been working,” you say carefully, but with the necessary authority in your voice to make your tasks sound big and important.

“On this enterprise you’ve got?” Shauna looks down at everything she bought from you.

“And other things,” you shake your head.

“So mysterious,” she mocks you. “Well, good luck with all of your… other things.”

__

“Hey,” Taissa sits down on the couch next to Van. She hands her the letter. “This was in the mailbox today.”

“What is it?” Van looks up from the box of tapes she had been sorting through.

“Open it.”

Van opens the envelope and reads what lies inside. When she’s done she closes the envelope and rips it in half.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s bullshit,” Van shrugs. “No one’s going to expose anything we did. No one knows anything.”

Taissa shakes her head. “Should we really take that chance, though?”

Van hesitates. “What would we do, anyway? I’m not giving anyone money.”

“Maybe we don’t have to. We could—”

“We’re not killing anyone, either,” Van interrupts, and even though her concern dissipates a bit when Taissa grabs her hand, she is stern.

“I’m going to call Misty,” Taissa decides. “If anyone knows what to do with a blackmailer, it’s that crazy bitch.”

__

Your next stop was a test of luck.

You had a growing suspicion that Melissa, a woman that was meant to be long dead, was living the suburban dream instead of rotting in a grave. You had done some deep diving on what really happened to the Yellowjackets, and some conspiracies you found online matched with some other research — and a few things Lottie and Nat said when you were unreasonably high with them one night — led you to locate Melissa alive and well in a new house with a new name and a wife that just so happened to be the daughter of a researcher killed in the wilderness.

You’ve driven by the house a few times now to make sure no one’s home. The only car left about half an hour ago, and from what you could gather it was the whole family that had left.

The final envelope rests in your hands. It will be simple to walk it up to the mailbox, you’re parked a ways down the street so that no one suspects you, but you’re still wrought with apprehension.

The mailbox, instead of being placed at the end of the street, is a drop box attached to the house next to the front door. It’s closer than you want to be to the house even with no one inside, but you gather your courage and try to act natural for anyone watching as you go up the front steps to occupy the porch.

You reach for the mailbox, but before you can slip the envelope inside, the front door swings open.

Shauna Sadecki meets your eyes. “You need to go.”

You pause, clutching the envelope. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Shauna tightens her grip on a knife in her left hand. Then, she sees the envelope you hold, and recognition sweeps over her face. “What’s that?”

You don’t have time to answer. She rips it out of your hands and opens it, scanning over the letter within.

Shauna looks back up at you. “You fucking bitch.”

Another voice sounds from inside. “Who is it?”

Melissa joins Shauna in the doorway. There’s no doubt that it’s her, with the same quiet sureness that you remember from pictures of her taken forever ago. And if a resemblance to her past self wasn’t enough, she still wears that backwards fucking hat.

Melissa steals the letter from Shauna. “What is this?”

Shauna looks hesitant to say, guilty even. She speaks quietly, but you hear the fury in her voice. “She’s trying to blackmail us.”

Melissa crumples up the paper and faces Shauna. “So it wasn’t me.”

Shauna doesn’t meet her eyes.

“You thought it was Melissa?” You look between them and your gaze settles on Shauna’s knife. “Did you come here to…”

“And now it’s you,” Shauna pulls you inside and shuts the door. She points her knife at you, guiding you to go stand over by the fireplace. “You’re going to stay there until we decide what to do with you.”

You’re fucked — and the horrible thing is that you don’t really mind. You stand with Shauna Sadecki pointing a knife straight at your heart and while you are afraid, you embrace it. You have lived such an existence of monotony that part of you wants to take a step forward to find out what the point of the blade feels like against your chest, to see if she will drive it in the rest of the way. You want the intensity of her gaze pointed at you just as sharply, you want to bear her scorn.

“The rest are on their way,” Shauna says, coming closer. “Lottie, Natalie… What do you think they will do when they find out it’s been you behind this all along?”

You’re not sure how she knows. You’ve been discreet with your visits to the wellness center.

Shauna toys with the knife in her hands, glancing down at the paper Melissa holds. “Hand-delivering a blackmail threat. I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

You didn’t think any of it through. Your desperation had gotten the better of you and maybe, in the back of your mind, you had wanted to get caught. You wanted to feel powerful and in some way prove your defiance of the usual system of money honestly earned and a world where only the rich have the privilege of disobedience. You wanted to be caught and somehow praised for it.

You find no praise here. Death watches you.

“We could have you arrested,” Melissa stalks over. You realize she carries a knife now, too. “You could be fined, you could be put in prison… you wouldn’t survive it.”

You wouldn’t. You don’t know if you’ll survive this.

You hear a car pulling into the driveway. You stay still, even when Shauna lowers the knife and lets in the rest of the Yellowjackets.

They come inside one by one and suddenly you recall every horrible tale you’ve ever heard about their time in the wilderness. You remember the stories that they ate their own teammates, that they used to make sacrifices to an unnamed spirit and hope for salvation that was never truly received.

Lottie comes in first, and she is the first to notice you. She looks between you, Shauna, and Melissa, confusion etched into her features. “What’s going on?”

Shauna waits until the rest of them are inside before pointing the knife at you again. “It wasn’t Melissa. It was her.”

Lottie exchanges a look with Natalie, who stands at her side with the same look of surprise. Then Lottie approaches Shauna and grabs for the blade in her hand.

Shauna doesn’t let go. She looks up at her defiantly and a silent communication passes between the two of them that causes the rest of the room to fall silent.

Shauna lets go of the knife.

You take a step back instinctively when Lottie approaches with the knife. You can’t meet her eyes, not even when she steps so close to you that you can feel her breath on your neck when she leans slightly and speaks in a volume only you are meant to hear. “You spent so many nights with Nat and I, we thought you were ours, and you did this…”

“I needed money,” you say quietly.

“I would have given you money, love. All you had to do was ask,” Lottie moves back half a step and trails the knife down to the hollow of your throat. Greater authority comes into her voice. “There are three ways out of this for you. The first is you leave, you leave and for your own good we never see or hear from you again. The second way is that you give us something in return, a repentance. You give us an appeasement and we all carry on like we used to. And the third way…” Lottie lifts your chin with the flat side of the knife. You meet her eyes, and you understand her implication, that in the third way your blood is spilled for It and everything you read about the Yellowjackets becomes true. “What will it be?”

Your breath catches in your throat and for a moment you can barely breathe as you acclimate to the feeling of the knife, but you’ve already made up your mind. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to leave. You want them. You want to beg for their forgiveness. “The second way.”

“The second way,” Lottie repeats, removing the knife and stepping behind you, circling you. “What will you give us?”

“Anything you want.”

She stops in front of you. “That’s not how offerings work. You don’t ask, you give.”

You hesitate. You know what you want to give, you know what she wants you to give, but you’re not sure if anyone else shares the same idea.

“You can pick a different answer if you’d like,” Lottie says casually, like she’s not offering isolation or death, “but you have to decide now.”

You have known what you’ve wanted since you started all of this, even if you never fully admitted to it. So there is no fear or regret or horror living in you when you step up to her and kiss her. Her arms slide around you, one hand pulling at your hair and driving you closer to her. You hear the metallic clink of the knife dropping to the floor.

Someone else is behind you now, pressing up against your back. You can tell instantly that it’s Nat — you have been down this road before. She reaches for your shirt, greedily pulling it over your head before latching onto your neck and sucking angry marks onto your skin. Her nails dig into your sides, and you moan when she pulls you closer back against her.

Lottie is pulled away from you by Melissa, who isn’t so apt to share you. You run your hands along the defined muscles of her shoulders as she kisses you, and you gasp when she tugs you forward and leads you into the bedroom. She gets impatient before you can reach the bed, instead shoving you back up against the wall.

She’s about to get on her knees in front of you when Shauna pushes her away.

You meet Shauna’s eyes for a moment. You both know that this will not leave you after, that the way your families have been innocently entwined will be poisoned. But she shoves her fingers into your mouth and you suck on them anyway. And you let her, and again Natalie who has returned, leads you over to the bed.

It’s Taissa and Van, though, who pin you down onto it. Taissa doesn’t let you watch the rest of them caught up in each other kissing and sucking and moaning, and Van takes over and straddles you once the two of them have rid you of the rest of your clothes. She leans down, shifting to suck at your collarbones, moaning against your skin.

“So beautiful, isn’t she?” Taissa agrees, hand trailing against your jaw as she looks just as far gone at the sight of you beneath her girlfriend. She speaks about you like you can’t hear. “She’ll look so gorgeous when she cums for us.”

Lottie joins you on the bed. She looks down at Van with something akin to annoyance. “Let me have her.”

“You’ve already had your turn.”

“No,” Lottie argues, but her protests are silenced when Nat comes over and pulls her against her, and for the moment she’s satisfied. And you’re happy with the solution too, every inch of you burning with need for them with Van settling between your legs as you watch Natalie pull Lottie’s dress down and slide a hand down to rub at her clit. You moan at the sight, and the two of them notice, Lottie’s gaze a heavy pressure on you until Nat slides two fingers inside of her and Lottie throws her head back against the other woman’s shoulder.

At the same time, Van licks through your folds, tongue sliding lazily over your clit. You gasp and Taissa leans down to kiss you, and somewhere close you hear Shauna’s whispered praise to you and Melissa moaning as god-knows-who is touching her.

It’s building quickly, the heat between your thighs that’s growing into something so fervent and agonizingly intense that the moans that escape you are embarrassing, and the speed at which they’ve taken you to the edge of release even more.

“Watch her, she’s so close,” you hear Natalie whisper to Lottie. “Watch her cum from seeing us.”

Van sucks your clit into her mouth, working her fingers inside of you, your wetness coating her chin and hand. And then Taissa straddles your face, lowering herself down onto your mouth, and your hands are shaking as you pull her closer and start to lick through her wetness.

Someone pulls Van away from you — Shauna.

“Don’t let her cum yet,” she orders. “Not until the rest of us have.”

im on my period btw and everyone needs to know because i am very angry about it. wrote this on my typewriter bluetooth keyboard like a true gangster of irredeemable sin, a glutton of tickled toes and one jolly fellow of olden days. comment/reblog if you enjoyed :)

masterlist | ko-fi/“buy me a $2 coffee” | taglist form

[celestiamour]

Hi, Could you write more about semi x fem reader, maybe the reader helps her not to get murdered? I love semi a lot but there aren't many fanfics about her🥺😭 please

ft. han se-mi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ preventing her untimely demise┊0.6k words

setting: season 2, episode 7 contains: canon-typical violence & murder, sorry nam-gyu fans, it’s one or the other, friends to lovers

➤ author's note: i was so mad when she died, why do the squid game writers hate lesbians

it’s difficult to see anything going on with the bright white fluorescent lights constantly flickering, but the sound of screams piercing through the night was enough to tell you that the “special game” had started and it was dangerous to remain in bed. you watched as one of the women next to you cried out in terror as a man used a broken bottle to stab at her chest,, and you immediately jumped out and hit the floor running before he could turn his sights on you. 

the first people who came to your mind to search for where your allies were to make sure they were alright, particularly min-su and se-mi whom you’ve become close over the past few days and knew would be targets of their previous group after voting to leave. 

you heard her familiar voice yelp in surprise just a little ways from you, the same voice that so often threw compliments at you like they didn’t fluster you so bad you wanted to hide under the blanket and comforted you when you cried about the people who lost their lives earlier that day when everyone else was asleep, sending you into a panic. 

as resilient as se-mi was, she was no match to overpower nam-gyu physically as you watched him corner her against the wall, his bloodlust so powerful you could almost smell it with one of the forks given out during dinnertime in hand. you could see a glint of red shining off the metal, indicating that it was already used to take a life. 

a glass bottle suddenly came in between them, shattering against the concrete floor. you didn’t even bother to look up, just seizing the opportunity to jump the man from behind and trying to steal the silverware from his grip while he was still in shock. while you couldn’t fully take it from him, you did manage to knock it out of his hands. 

you were smaller than him, but you used all of the strength in your body to keep him pinned down once se-mi kicked him in the stomach and picked up the utensil. without hesitation, she began to repeatedly stab him in the neck with it, over and over again, both of you ignoring his pleas and screams knowing that he would have done the same to her without so much as batting an eye. you only got off him when he stopped squirming under your grasp, ignoring the blood that splattered all over your hands, clothing, and face.

it hasn’t hit you yet that you just held a man down for her to murder and you’re sure the guilt will consume you later, but all that matters is that both of you have survived to see another day together. you’ve never been so happy to see those damn guards in their hot pink uniform, even if they were shortly taken down in a matter of minutes to steal their guns for the planned player revolt. both of you 

neither of you were allowed to join due to a lack of experience with firearms and being women, but due to the clear determination in your eyes, they did leave a walkie-talkie to call for backup if they needed it.

once the shots fell quiet and were no longer ringing in your ears, se-mi looked at you with a little smile on her face and reached out to caress your face, “you know, i always thought you were really pretty, but i think you look kinda sexy with the blood everywhere.”

“do you really?”

“of course, i do, but we really should wash up”

[dixons-sunshine]

No Backing Out | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you told Daryl you were pregnant, he vowed to himself he would be there for you throughout everything. However, when Daryl got a message over the radio that your water had broken, and he wasn’t anywhere near the community, his heart dropped, and he raced back towards the safe zone, his only hope being that you hadn’t been forced to go through everything alone.

Genre: Slightly angsty/fluffy.

Era: Alexandria, set post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Mentions of labour and child birth.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: I don’t know what this is. I had this idea of Daryl nearly missing his child’s birth and (very poorly) executed it. I’m sorry this sucks, but I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable.

With a loud, deafening screech, the rusted gates of the safe zone rolled open, allowing the approaching blue vehicle to drive into the safety of the community’s walls. The car barely had time to come to a stop within the gated community before the door of the vehicle was flung open. Daryl scrambled to get out of the vehicle, nearly falling to the ground in his haste, and took off in a sprint. He accidentally dropped his beloved crossbow on the gravel, but he didn’t even realize. His only concern was getting to your shared home, to you. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

He just hoped his mission beyond the walls with Rick hadn’t cost him being there for the birth of his child.

The message that Carol had relayed to Daryl and Rick over the radio still rung clear in his mind. ‘Y/N’s water broke’. That message had Daryl regretting ever leaving your side that morning in the first place. He should have told Rick to take someone else instead. If he had, then he wouldn’t be running down the streets of Alexandria, praying to whatever entity was listening that he wasn’t too late.

Your shared home came into view, and Daryl picked up the pace. Even when running from walkers, Daryl had never run quite as fast as he was at that moment. Each moment he slowed to catch his breath could potentially lead to you having to go through everything alone, if you hadn’t already gone through everything alone. He really hoped you hadn’t. He would feel like the lowest piece of shit on earth if he had missed it.

He ran up the porch steps, taking three steps at a time. He flung the front door open, the wood crashing against the wall, but Daryl didn’t care. A hole in the wall could be fixed. Missing the birth of his child couldn’t.

Daryl opened his mouth to call out to Carol, but the woman—who had been keeping in contact with Rick and had gotten the message that Daryl was on his way—rushed down the stairs. Her eyes locked onto Daryl’s, and she gave him a warm, albeit strained, smile.

Daryl’s heart practically pounded against his ribcage. “Has she—”

“No,” Carol cut him off, a small chuckle escaping her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “No, she hasn’t. But she’s about to any moment.”

That was all the confirmation the archer needed. Without needing to be pushed to do so, Daryl pressed past the Peletier woman, rushing up the stairs to get to the bedroom you were in. He flung the door open—the third door that day—and stepped into the room, his eyes wide. Daryl could vaguely make out two other figures in the room, those of Michonne and Siddiq, but his main focus was on you; more so on the pained expression on your face.

You looked up at Daryl, relief instantly noticable on your tear-streaked face. “Daryl...” you trailed off in a soft whisper, quietly calling for your archer to be with you, to reassure you that everything would be okay. You needed his comfort.

In one swift movement, Daryl made his way over to your side. He sat down on the bed, one of his hands immediately finding its place in yours. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders when you rested your head against his shoulder. “M’here, sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “M’so sorry I wasn’t here.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Michonne slip out of the room, and Carol walking inside and towards Siddiq.

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” you told him, sending him a smile, one that was strained due to the overwhelming pain that flooded through your body. You sat forward, out of his embrace, and let out a small cry, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to will the pain away.

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed together. He rubbed soothing circles over your back, and he pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “M’here. I got ya. Yer doin’ so good, Sweetheart.”Your exhausted body fell back against Daryl’s chest. Your breathing was heavy and uneven, the pain in both your back and abdomen failing to cease even the slightest bit. A small whimper fell from your lips, and Daryl’s heart ached for you.

Siddiq moved forward and examined your nether area. A small smile graced the doctor’s features, and he looked up at Daryl. “Seems to me like you got here in the nick of time, Daryl.” Siddiq shifted his attention back to you, and he adapted a gentler, almost understanding smile. “You’re fully dilated, Y/N. It’s time.”

Your heart began pounding against your ribcage. Your grip on Daryl’s hand tightened considerably, fear evident on your face. “I can’t do this,” you whispered through your tears.

Daryl’s thumb rubbed soothingly over your knuckles. “Yer the strongest person I know. If there’s anyone that can do this, s’ya. Ya can do this. I know ya can. And I’mma be by yer side the whole time, alright?” When you sent him a small, grateful smile, he continued in a slightly joking tone. “‘Sides, pretty sure there ain’t no backin’ out now.”

“There’s not,” Carol commented, taking your other hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “This baby’s coming. You’re gonna meet your little one any minute now.” Her words barely had time to register in the air. Another sharp pain shot through your abdomen, making you cry out. Carol squeezed your hand again, understanding in her eyes. “Be strong, Honey. You can do this.”

You nodded, and shared a look with Daryl. “Don’t go. I can’t do this alone.”

Daryl shook his head. “I already said I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and I mean it. M’here for ya.” He placed a tender kiss to the side of your head. “I love ya, Sweetheart. Ya got this.”

His words rung through your ears, an anchor in your otherwise turmoil of a mind. However, as another cry of pain left your chest, and Siddiq told you it was time to start pushing, you prayed that his steadfast belief in you wasn’t misplaced.

[yuechihua]

the boy who chases the wind.

summary: After the taste of bitterness, there will come sweetness. Even after everything his master has lied to him about, Harumasa can't help but cling to those words.

notes: 7k, author's notes, spoilers for Harumasa's backstory, character study, one mention of drinking alcohol, depictions/references of panic attacks, depictions of piercing ears

i.

They abandon him to die, the faculty flooded with red lights and screeching sirens that hurt his ears, stampeding feet and panicked voices.  

Or perhaps they don’t abandon him; they forget him, but forgetting is still just a kinder form of death.

Harumasa should feel something, anything, but the panic around him feels like the distant crash of waves against the ocean shores he’s never seen. It’s there, he knows, but it’s not something that belongs to him. If he’s pulled away by the tides, then he was meant to drown.

He waits, hands folded on his lap in his hospital bed, medical supplies glowing scarlet with each pulse of the alarms. The only thing that he has, the only thing that’s truly his, is a yellow headband that he keeps tucked under his hands.

A boy like him is worth nothing more than the people who use him: this is a truth that has been ingrained in Harumasa’s bones, a lesson that’s been taught to him over and over, from the very beginning.

And he would have been okay with being a tool. As long as he is useful, he is in some capacity loved. 

“If you’ve experienced enough bitterness, then other parts of life can be sweeter.”

Isn’t that what his master taught him? But then, his master is gone. Has been gone for the past few days, and now the facility is in disarray. 

His master, who snuck him books and stuck him with needles that left behind purpling bruises, who taught him archery and injected him with clear fluid, who gave him cake on his birthdays and told him to endure during the worst of his flare-ups.

Perhaps Harumasa hasn’t been as useful as he should have been. Or perhaps, he’s no longer useful at all, and his master has left him for better experiments.

The only thing Harumasa has left is this headband. He could throw it away, but every time the itch to do so tremors through his fingers and he picks up the fabric, he can never bring himself to follow through.

Footsteps echo down his hallway, which sound heavier than the footsteps of the staff he’s come to know, and his door is wrenched open. People in suits and equipment and helmets, people he’s never seen before, stare at him with confusion, and then horror.

“There’s a child in here,” someone murmurs in disbelief. “They’ve been… on children… Those sick–”

A man in front raises his hand, and the murmurs fall silent. He strides to Harumasa, and peers down at him, a strange tenderness in his eyes. 

“You’re safe now, kid,” he rumbles, in a rough, low voice. “We’ve got you.” He reaches out a thick, gloved hand. “Do you want to come with us?”

And what else can he do? Harumasa takes the man’s hand. If he is useful, then he is loved. If he is needed, then he can live. And if he’s worth nothing at all, then he should just let go. But is that really all there is for him?

 “Yes,” he whispers. His throat is dry. He swallows, and speaks again, louder. “Yes.” He grips his master’s headband. Is the sweetness promised to him waiting just past this? “Yes.”

ii.

He pierces his ears in the high school academy dorm bathroom, bloody tissues strewn across the counter, catheter needle sliding into the tender flesh of his ear with a laughable slice of pain. 

Harumasa is alone, as he always is. The years ghost by, barely touching him. He grows older. His scars fade, but never completely. He does well in academics, does well with people. They love him, or they think they love him, the slouchy, easy-going genius. Love letters pile in his lockers. People ask to meet him after class, determination sparking in their eyes.

He always turns them down, as gently as he can. They deserve to give their affection to someone who’s capable of loving them back. 

In the bathroom mirror, his own face stares back at him. His uniform is unbuttoned at the top, his hair messy (in an artful way, he likes to think). Dark circles bruise under his eyes, and his ear is bright red as he pushes the needle through to the very tip, placing the earring at the top of the needle until it pops out from the other side and the earring is left in his lobe.

He pushes the earring back in, and admires his handiwork. 

It should hurt more. But the pain is as easy as it always is when it comes to needles.

Here, then, is a body, his own. Marked by his own hand and not others, for once. Will this make him more real?

Harumasa has always had this nagging knowledge, pooling in the back of his mind, a stagnant puddle. He is no person, no life; only the purest form of hunger, a constant, endless roving desire for survival. He does not know what comes after. There is no after, only a desperate clawing for another day. Isn’t that what a tool is reduced to, after years of rusting?

He will die one day. His fate had already been decided the second the doctor gave him his diagnosis. He was expendable once, and he is expendable now. What does living really mean, when every minute is precious and trickles towards a predetermined ending?

In the mirror, his master’s headband stares back at him. A relic of the past that he hasn’t been able to let go. A reminder of things he can’t forget.

Harumasa picks up another sterilized needle, and slides it into his other earlobe, marked by a small yellow dot. The pain, as it always is, is his oldest, most familiar friend.

iii.

Did he survive just for life to pass like a dream?

He graduates with honors, top of his class, with recommendations from the most difficult to please professors.

“He’s a genius,” people marvel when they see him, and he hides his calloused hands behind his back, adjusts the choker over his scars, and smiles. 

Easygoing, playful, an incorrigible slacker: he’s been careful to craft how other people perceive him, but it’s still easier than expected. No one has ever truly looked at him, or maybe they prefer this palatable version of himself. Easy to love, easy to envy, easy to tolerate.

He’s recruited to Hollow Special Operations. He joins Section One, their sterling recruit. No one complains when he walks in with rumpled uniforms and an unbuttoned shirt. No one complains much of anything, in fact. It’s quiet and dull, the pay is nice, and as long as he produces results, no one says anything about his constant leave requests.

At home, Harumasa sits alone at his table, takeout cartons crowding in front of him, watching whatever cheap movie he’s rented for the week. If he never goes into work again, if he ran away into a Hollow or walked into the sea or his heart simply gave out, how long would it take someone to notice, and then to care? 

Life could pass like this forever, but one day, a transfer request is slipped on his desk, and suddenly, he is no longer Asaba Harumasa, Section One Executive Officer, but a member of Hoshimi Miyabi’s elite squad of Section Six, personally recruited and handpicked.

It’s easy enough to find her, the city’s youngest Void Hunter, heir to a family with a lineage so prestigious it makes his head spin, leaving behind a trail of frost in her wake. People fall silent in front of her, respectful or fearful of a genius, though her status has never done much more than stir his curiosity. 

They’re a little similar, Harumasa likes to think, in some ways.

Miyabi is alone, inspecting her new office, every surface polished and shining to the point it hurts his eyes, the room smelling of something empty and clean. It’s ripe with possibility, of newness, of an unsullied ideal that makes his heart ache.

“Hoshimi Miyabi,” he says, voice filled with a careful laziness. “Or is it Chief now? You’re my boss, right?”

She turns, and even that movement is ridiculously elegant, her steps light and poised, not a single wasted gesture. Even death would be rendered beautiful by her hand. “I’m not officially your chief until tomorrow. The paperwork hasn't finished processing.”

“Right, right, but functionally, you’re my boss, aren’t you? Say, Chief, you wouldn’t mind if I took a few days off after orientation, right?” he says. “Or are you going to expect us to go into dangerous Hollows right away? I don’t know if Section One has told you, but I’m a little fragile. Are you sure you want to trust me?”

She tilts her head, another efficient gesture, and her eyes seem to swallow him whole. It’s a little frightening, how she stares directly at him without any hesitation or fear, like there’s nothing he can truly hide from her.

“I chose you,” she says, “not because of what other people say, but because Section Six needs you, Asaba Harumasa. I trust what I see with my own eyes.”

He knows all about what it means to be needed. But somehow, Miyabi’s expectations don’t feel suffocating. 

“All right,” he says, voice as light as possible. Miyabi’s ear twitches, and he knows she isn’t convinced by his lackadaisical demeanor. But it’s enough that she allows him this pretense. “Then I’ll look forward to working with you, Chief.”

She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t need to. It’s enough that she keeps her cool gaze on him, and Harumasa is seen.

iv.

To Harumsa’s surprise, he’s not the only recruit to Section Six. There’s Tsukishiro Yanagi from the New Eridu Defence Force, and you. It only makes sense that Miyabi would recruit people she could trust, and people with such impressive achievements in their careers, though you stand out as an oddity in that respect.

Your resume is impressive, certainly: top academics, honors, prestigious internships, and glowing recommendation letters from professors who can’t stop raving about your skills. But you have virtually no combat experience on the field, so you’re still a risk, one Miyabi has willingly taken, for whatever reason.

Besides, genius is nothing special to him. You remind him of every bright-eyed recruit at the academy with something to prove, and it’s only a question of how your dreams and ideals will survive when faced with the pressure of the numbing work, the relentless threats, the difficult decisions.

You approach him in the very first week, presumably on Miyabi’s orders, with a mission dossier in your hand.

“We’ll be working together, starting from today,” you tell him. Your uniform is ironed to flat perfection, not a single crease in sight. It’s a far cry from his own rumpled clothing and the jacket tied loosely around his waist, which you scan with a critical eye.

“Glad to hear it,” he says. “What are we working on today, partner?” 

You flick through the sheets of paper. “Meetings, as always. Some reports and a joint training session with Section Four. Oh, and a venture into Hollow Zero for a routine check-up.”

“We have to do all of that? I don’t have the stamina to keep up.”

“Well, it’s what’s expected of us,” you say. “We’d only be assigned so many tasks if they trusted us to handle them well.”

Your posture is stiff, your shoulders tense. You don’t like him, Harumasa realizes, or you don’t think he’s taking this seriously. And maybe he isn’t, but your reaction makes him want to poke at you, just to see how you’ll react. He has a feeling you’d react just like a cat, hiss or scratch him and run away, but, unfortunately for you, he has a fondness for cats.

“In that case, do you think you’d be okay handling it by yourself?” he says, voice as innocent as he can make it. “Since I’m technically your senior, you can think of it as me having high expectations for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tsukishiro is around if you need any help,” he says. “I’d offer, but I’m a little too frail for all of that work, you know? I might have to take a day off tomorrow if I do.”

“I’m not going to push your work off onto someone else, and I’m also not going to do it for you! You’re an Executive Officer!”

“Don’t be so serious. You won’t last long here if you don’t relax a little,” he teases.

You’re silent for a few moments. Has he gone too far? But before Harumasa can say anything, you stride forward until you’re close enough to grab his wrist. Your grasp is tight enough that he can’t slip away, but still gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt. It’s a thoughtful touch.

“I don’t care what excuses you want to make,” you snap, “and you can do whatever you want in your free time, but we are going to fulfill every piece of this agenda together. I’m not letting you go until we do!”

“All right,” he says hastily, because you look like you’re one second away from slapping handcuffs onto him so he can’t escape. “I didn’t take you for someone who cared so much about your job.”

You tilt your head at him. Your hand is as warm as a spring day. “Well, the entire city is counting on us. There are so many people out there who need us to protect them.”

Underneath your cool tone of voice, he can sense it: your genuine desire to be needed. To do something real. That is something, he thinks, he can understand.

“I guess we can’t let down all the good people of New Eridu, partner,” Harumasa says. “I’m all yours, just for today. So, where to?”

v.

The best remedy for work reports, Harumasa finds, is folding them into paper airplanes and sailing across the room, trying to see how many can land in the trash can. As it is, only several have made it in, and the rest have crashed across the office floor at various intervals.

He aims another airplane in a lazy arc and it only makes it halfway through the air before Yanagi strides into the room and plucks it out of the air with expert precision. She unfolds it and shakes her head at him, smoothing it out in her hands before placing it back on his desk. “Asaba, don’t fold your reports into airplanes.”

“I’m finding a good use for them,” he protests.

“They’re already useful as mission reports. I have a few updates for you,” she continues. “I scheduled your doctor’s appointment for next week.”

“Deputy Chief,” he whines, but she ignores him. 

“You get to take a day off work to attend, but it will count towards your monthly leave requests.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t sound so pleased. We have a meeting later today, one which you aren’t allowed to skip. And this is an interpersonal request, but I want you to stop teasing your deskmate so much,” she says. 

“Who on earth are you talking about?” Harumasa says in an oblivious voice.

“You know who I’m talking about. You’re going to drive them half-mad if you keep this up!”

“It’s fun, though.”

“Fun for you, not for them.”

“I think they enjoy it. Do you see how they get all stiff and they wrinkle their nose? They’re like a cat,” he muses. “Maybe they need a mouse toy for their desk.”

“If you do that,” Yanagi says, voice worldworn, “Then I think I’m going to have to clean bits and pieces of you out of the office tomorrow.”

He laughs a little at that, but Yanagi’s expression doesn’t change. Though he’s had brief run-ins with Tsukishiro Yanagi when he was still a part of Section One, this is his first time working with her in such close proximity for an extended period of time. Her accomplishments in the New Eridu Defense Force are startlingly impressive, and, in all honesty, she’s the only reason Section Six runs as well as it does. 

You do your fair share of work, sure, but Miyabi, and Soukaku, Yanagi’s ward who joined a little after everyone else, create their own fair share of trouble. And he does, as well, if he’s honest.

Yanagi is overly serious, and yet, so unwilling to admit to her own achievements. She’s the sort of person who he, contrary to what some may think, admires. She’s the type who thinks of others before herself, and it’s hard to truly dislike her when there’s no genuine malice to her actions. Unlike Miyabi, Yanagi’s type is easy to understand.

But there’s also the risk that Yanagi will eventually burn herself out if she assumes that overwork is the only way she can keep up with everyone else.

Ah, well. That only means he has to pick up more of the slack than he intended for Section Six’s hardworking Deputy Chief.

“Tsukishiro,” Harumasa says instead. “Why’d you have to make my appointment?”

She adjusts her glasses, pushing them further up her face. “If I didn’t, you would have put off making it until the last minute. That’s a bad habit, Asaba. You need to take care of your own health.”

“If you think so, then my next leave request—”

“I will not be accepting it for you,” she says immediately. 

“I thought you cared about my health!”

“I do,” she says. There it is again, the seriousness in her voice that makes it hard to look at her sometimes. “I want all of you to stay healthy. Which is why if you skip your next medical appointment, Asaba, then I’m going to reject all of your leave requests for the month.”

“You’re so unfair, Deputy Chief,” he says, fingering the work report she’s placed on his desk. It’s still creased from where he’s folded it.

“Only when I have to be,” she says. “Now, don’t let me hear you’ve skipped this appointment, or I’ll make more follow-ups for you. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, I do,” he groans.

It’s a strange feeling. None of his coworkers in Section One would have cared for him as much as this. It’s strange, but not bad.

vi.

Harumasa can’t quite put it into words why he can’t leave you alone.

It’s your reaction, sure. You’re serious and straightforward and responsible, and when you snap back at him, it only makes him want to push at your buttons again.

It could also be the novelty of how you never avoid his eyes, and refuse to hide your distaste for his actions, like so many of his coworkers had done in Section One. No one in general talks so openly to him like this, outside of those in Section Six.

“Your weapon makes no sense. You’re going to slice off your fingers pulling your bow one day,” you would tell him. “And I know you’re the one drawing cats on my work reports! Cut it out!”

Or maybe it’s the need in you, the deep, drowning need, familiar to him as if it’s his own. To be loved, or to be needed, or to be useful. If he looks too close, then he’ll sink too far into it, too far into you. 

So as fun as it is to mess with you, Harumasa knows to keep his distance. It’s easier this way, and better for the both of you.

And perhaps everything could have continued like this, a string of warm days and aimless teasing, until a venture into a Hollow with the entire section, one that should not have been different from any other.

There’s a swarm of Ethereals around, more than usual, and it takes all of your respective concentration to cut through their numbers. So perhaps, in the thrum of intense battle, he doesn’t react as quickly as he should before an ink-black monster is on him, roaring, wild strikes aimed at his neck.

Harumasa jerks back, shoots several arrows in rapid succession through its headless core, and then he feels it. A weightlessness around his neck, a strange nakedness.

His choker coils on the floor, a shining black snake.

He tries to suck in a quick breath, but he can’t quite manage it.

His choker. His neck. He can feel the itch of scars, of phantom injections, of the Hollow’s corruption weighing down, and he slaps his hands over his neck, a wild attempt to protect himself.

But there’s no point. Black spots swim in front of his eyes. He’s useless. He needs to move. The sound of metal and corrupted claws are so distant. Is everyone trying to keep them away from him? He has to move. He has to. 

Pick himself. Keep going. It’s what he’s always done, so why can’t he now?

Something warm lands on his head, solid and comforting and real, pressing against the back of his neck. You’re in front of him, white work shirt fluttering as you smooth your jacket down the side of his face. He’s cocooned, and the world shrinks down to just this: you, and him.

“Harumasa, look at me.” A rustle of fabric. Your gloves flutter to the dirt below, stark and black. And then— warm hands. The warmest hands he’s ever felt, cradling his face, bringing his wane face to yours. 

A smear of blood across your cheek. Sweat beading across your forehead. But your eyes are beautiful, steadfast and luminous. Like the moon, lighting his way home.

“You’re okay,” you say, voice so quiet, as if it’s meant for no other ears than his. “You’re okay, I promise.” 

He can’t breathe. He can’t do anything, but stare at you, sweat trickling down his face.

“Look at me. Tell me what you see right now.” 

He swallows, the gesture thick and unnatural. “I see…” 

“Yes?” 

“You.”

“That’s right. And what else?” 

He feels stupid, childish, as his voice comes out in a slow wheeze. “The… sky. The ground.”

“And can you smell anything?”

“Blood. Sweat. Dust.”

You don’t move your hands from his face, and even if you had, he would have chased after your touch without a shred of reticence. But you keep your hands steady, your voice soothing, as you run through questions about what he can sense. He answers you without hesitation, until his breathing steadies and the world is no longer spinning.

You keep your jacket wrapped around him as you bend down and grab his choker, pressing it into his hands.

You must be curious, surely, about his reaction, his sudden uselessness in the Hollow. But you never speak. All you do is take his hand and guide him out somewhere less crowded, less noisy. The others have already moved on, a decision that they seemed to have made with you while he wasn’t focusing.

But your hand is warm. So warm, as warm as it was on the day he first met you. Like this, he would follow you anywhere.

vii.

Harumasa wakes with pain radiating from his chest like a starburst, limbs weak, nausea crowding the back of his throat. Sweat coats his body, a migraine pulverizing his brain into useless mush. 

Harumasa can barely breathe, let alone stand. It’s all he can do to fumble for the pills scattering his nightstand, swallowing them dry out of desperation. It takes the slightest edge off his pain, just enough that he can reach for his phone and construct a blithe message to Yanagi about not coming into work and cashing in one of his sick days, before losing it among his blankets.

He passes the next hour in and out of consciousness, a fitful sleep eluding him before the pain jolts him awake.

In a way, he’s grown used to functioning with a certain amount of pain. His weak lungs, his unstable heart. People can adapt to anything, and even constant pain can become mundane. But other days, his illness flares with an intensity that leaves him immobile.

In moments like this, curled among his blankets, knees pulled up, unable to do more than wait, Harumasa thinks about the life he’s built: the parents who he no longer remembers. The haze of pain of his youth, sterile white hospital walls and perpetual needles. His master, who patted his head gently and then abandoned him. The academy, where he passed aimless days. Graduation, where no one was there to give him flowers. Section One, which was cold as a grave, full of grim orders and blank coworkers. Crowds of pills in his cabinet and on his bedside, several which are for daily use, taken every morning and every night at a consistent time, and the others for managing moments when his pain is unbearable.

But there’s also Section Six, who welcomes him like he’s coming home every time he opens the office doors. The stray cat who hops onto his windowsill everyday, who hisses at him but can be coaxed with bits of canned food to lick at his fingers. You, who has held him with a touch so tender it makes him want to stay by your side forever.

Harumasa is still going to die. He’s long made his peace with this, the knowledge that everything must come to an end. No matter what he does, it only prolongs his inevitable ending. But until then, he is still alive.

It might not have been the best life, or even a very good one, but it’s his, one’s he fought for with every bit of his blood and tears to keep and hold. He’ll survive, swallow every bit of bitterness for even a hint of sweetness in his future.

Every year, the probability of his survival lowers. So every birthday, he thinks, is a miracle. Every moment longer he has is an opportunity he can’t waste.

Like his master’s headband, which he still wears even now. There are things he can’t let go, that he will cling on to no matter what.

This is what living is, a taste so sweet it makes him crave more.

viii.

Moonlight spills into the office by the time Harumasa is ready to go home, several hours past the time he usually clocks out of work. 

He stands, stretches, and does a slow circle around the office. Everyone else has already left, Miyabi and Soukaku dragging Yanagi out before she could pull her third all-nighter at the office. It’s empty—or at least, he thinks it is before he finds you, flung along the couch hiding near the back of the office, head resting on the armrest, cheek pressed into the smooth fabric. 

You must have fallen asleep, and he hadn’t even noticed. It’s funny how that works: he’s perpetually aware of your presence, the most accidental brush of your skin against his making his nerves spark, and at other times, he’s lulled into a gentle peace in your presence, letting his guard dangerously low around you.

He pads over to the office lighting and flips it off, so the room plunges into sudden darkness, lit only by the liquid silver light of the moon puddling on the floor. You must be exhausted, running back and forth all the time, voluntarily working overtime alongside Yanagi.

Dedication to your job, perhaps, a noble profession that serves as a guiding light for the people of New Eridu. Are you aware of the corruption that lurks beneath the surface, the stink of ill intentions? Or is it something that guides you to do better instead?

He drifts back to you, pulled like the tides by the moon. You look peaceful, younger, moonlight softening your face and pooling in the hollow of your throat. If he folds his legs underneath him, there’s enough space on the couch for him to lay his head next to yours, close enough he can see the breath fluttering in your throat, the light exhalation and sign of life.

His hand just barely grazes along your jaw, but he can’t bring himself to touch you, not fully, though he can still feel the heat emanating from your skin. 

It’s obvious what you think of him. He’s irritating, a slacker, someone who only gets in your way–but there’s an edge of fondness in your voice now. The teasing and exaggerated eye rolls has become your new routine. Lately, you’ve started to doodle cats with little pouts on his papers, or bring back an extra cup of bitter black coffee for him when you’re out running errands.

Sometimes, he imagines what it would be like to grow older by your side. He’s always been fascinated by the wrinkles of the elderly, the gray hair, the worn joints, the various markers of a life well-lived and loved.

But he doesn’t have the luxury of aging, and he can’t envy what was never his.

You make him feel afraid of things he’s never been afraid of before. One day, you will only remember him from the yellowing pages of a photo album. He will stay the same forever, in the bloom of youth, while you drift further and further from him. You will always recognize him, but the face he sees now won’t be the one you will always have. You will change, and time will unmoor him from you. 

He can’t pull any closer than this. This is the safest distance, this easy fondness, the meaningless flirtations. Never any step closer, into a space where the two of you could be hurt. 

What is it that you want? A love? A family? A dream? He wants you to have it all, to indulge in every desire, every joy. Your life is a miracle, the greatest miracle he knows.

ix.

“Harumasamasa, you’ve gotten a lot of letters and gifts again! Is there any food in them? Is there?” 

Soukaku bounds up to him, all overeager, enthusiastic excitement and expectant eyes. He tosses several packages at her, wrapped in cheerful colors, which she catches with startingly precision. “Just a few chocolates and cookies,” he says. “They’re all yours, Soukaku.”

“Yay!” She tears into them with abandon. It’s a ritual they’ve developed over the months, where, when he’s flooded with sweets from fans he never knows what to do with, Soukaku is the one to sweep them up. It’s better than letting them go to waste.

Harumasa flips through a few letters as she talks, all personalized notes and careful handwriting on cute stationary, declarations of love and admiration and gratitude. Soukaku and you get your fair share of fan mail, though no one can beat Miyabi when it comes to the mountain of love letters on her desk. 

It’s part of the job, the fanservice, but it doesn’t mean it’s one he enjoys. You’re careful with your letters, and he doesn’t know what Miyabi does with hers, but this simply feels like a repeat of school: confessions he can’t accept, that pile up uncomfortably in the corner of his room until he throws them away because there’s nothing else to do with them.

“You don’t look happy, Harumasa,” Soukaku says, her cheeks stuffed with chocolate.

“Hm? Why wouldn’t I be happy? All these people love us so much,” he says. Soukaku is sweet and earnest in a way that makes him cognizant of how he interacts with her; Yanagi has done her best to protect Soukaku, so it wouldn’t be right for him to ruin those efforts. The world can be cruel and kind in equal measure, and she deserves to believe in that kindness before anything else.

“Because you always tell others to do whatever they want with your letters.”

“But I won’t have any room to nap if I let all my letters pile up! Besides, it’s not good for me to accept letters from people whose feelings I can’t cherish properly, right?”

Soukaku tilts her head like a puppy. “Does that mean you would be happy with a letter from them?” She points at your desk, situated right next to his, with its clean surface and neatly stacked files and supplies.

Harumasa hands her another package of chocolate, which Soukaku tears open. Every once in a while, she has a flash of sharp insight that reminds him why Soukaku has been allowed to join Section Six. 

“I don’t think there’s a reason they need to write me a letter,” he says. “We talk every day.”

Soukaku pops several chocolates in her mouth, swallowing it in one giant gulp. “Nagi says sometimes it’s easier to say things over letters, because there are things you can’t say right when you try to say them out loud. So maybe they would be happy if you sent them a letter, too.”

“Do you think we need to talk, Soukaku? Me and them?”

She brings her fingers together, fidgeting with them over and over, eyes shifting away. “You look sad when you’re talking to them and they can’t see, so I thought maybe there’s something you can’t say. And sometimes you look like you’re going to go somewhere far away, and I get scared you’re really going to leave, Harumasamasa. And I really like you, so I don’t want you to leave us. So…! That’s why you should send each other letters!”

His heart aches at her voice, earnest and slightly afraid. Though Yanagi has kept the precise details of her past quiet, he knows enough about what happened to the Onis to guess at what she’s gone through. And she’s young, still so young.

“I’m not going anywhere, Soukaku,” Harumasa begins, placing a hand on her hair and ruffling it. “I promise, okay? I won’t leave you or anyone else behind. So don’t worry.”

She sniffles. “Okay. You’ve promised. So you can’t break it.”

“I won’t break it,” he says. It’s a lie, but what could he say otherwise, when she looks at him with such a hopeful expression? Soukaku’s is one heart he can’t break.

x.

They’re half an hour into the party before Harumasa decides it’s been long enough that Yanagi can’t be mad if he escapes for some air.

The party is some private, stuffy affair with the City’s elite, all elegant crystal and tailored silk and calculated words that make him yawn. He knows what these sorts of people are like, and what they expect, so it makes him laugh under his breath to see them flustered at Soukaku’s cheer, uncaring of their games, and Miyabi’s blunt words, cutting through their pretenses.

You and Yanagi are the ones socializing and trying to keep things professional, but from the tight set of your smile and the way you clutch your wineglass like you’re considering using it like a weapon before you set it down, a break is in order. The person you’re talking to is also leaning far too close, and you keep angling your body away from him, a hint he can’t seem to take.

You look like a dream under the soft, warm lights, in an outfit he knows you agonized for hours before deciding on something tasteful and sleek.

Harumasa materializes right next to your elbow, cat-like grin on his face, hands shoved in his pockets. His tie is slightly askew, his collar popped open, his choker shining. He’s not in the most elegant suit in the room, but it’s his best one.

“I need them for a moment,” he says, smiling. “Pardon us.”

The person you’re talking to blinks. “But–”

“Official HSO business. It’s very urgent. And private,” he emphasizes, hand drifting to settle on your waist, pulling you infinitesimally closer to him.

“It’s true,” you say, jumping on the lifeline he’s offered you. You give a half-apologetic shrug. “I have to go now. The Hollows wait for no one.”

With that, the two of you are gone, striding across the room. He hasn’t lifted his hand from your waist, and you haven’t moved away. Neither of you speak until you’re out in the hall, where a sudden hush descends, lush carpet and imposing artwork muffling the sound of voices and muting the golden light.

“Let’s go there,” you say, pointing to a set of frosted glass doors, draped by lacy curtains.

He obliges, and steps out onto a balcony, a cool breeze sending the curtains swirling behind the two of you. Moonlight gilds everything in silver, and you break from him as you step up to the stone ledge, taking a deep breath. Below, the city lights glow in the distance, spreading out before you like a paradise.

“I needed this,” you say. You rest your elbows on the balcony.

He steps closer to you, until you’re side by side. “I thought so.”

“Thanks.” You smile briefly at him, a look that’s more open and genuine than the one you had given your previous conversational partner. “I know we need to do this for funding and PR, but it gets exhausting.”

“Well,” he says, “You’re part of HSO. People can’t be too mad at you if you take advantage of that. There’s only so much they can say to one of the city’s heroes.”

You laugh. “I know. I’ve seen you do exactly that, you slacker. You’re hardly up to dress code. Did you even iron your suit?”

“I didn’t see the point,” he says.

“I knew it. But like you said, it’s fine. You’re part of HSO. People call you a lazy genius, you know? You have a reputation that precedes you.”

“I didn’t know you talked about me like that to other people.”

You open your mouth as if you’re about to make another joke, before closing it, contemplating him. “No, I’ve just heard what people have said about you. I mean, to be honest, I thought that way at first. But then I noticed you actually work hard. A lot harder than you want other people to notice. Besides, we’re partners. I’ll have your back, and you’ll have mine.”

“You’re unexpectedly open tonight. What was in your drink?” he says. “Isn’t this the part where you tease me or make some jab at my work ethic?”

“I want to be honest with you sometimes,” you declare. “And I’m also a little tipsy. So don’t get too used to any compliments.”

It’s unbearable, sometimes, to see you like this. He wants to hold you like something he cannot have, something he doesn’t deserve.

“If we’re being honest, then I want to show you something,” he says. Harumasa touches your hands, and brings them to his neck, the movement slow and deliberate, until your fingers brush against his choker.

His heart quickens, the familiar bile rising in his throat. You’re close, too close, and he can feel the old wounds flare until his choker, igniting that familiar fear even at your gentle touch. It’s pain and pleasure, mixing together in a way that makes him feel light-headed.

You brush your fingers along the slick material, all the way to the back of his choker, right at the clasp that keeps them together. You hold your fingers there, waiting, staring into his eyes, but he doesn’t look away, and so with a single snap, his choker flutters away. The weight is gone, and his neck is bare.

Harumasa lowers his eyes to the ground, bending his neck like a lamb to slaughter. You brush back the hair on his neck, fingers ghosting along his skin. His breathing is shallow as your fingers explore every tender, sensitive inch of him. 

It’s too much. It’s too much—and then your fingers are gone as you kiss his neck, a ticklish, fluttering feeling that sends his nerves alight with liquid flame. His old scars flare against the brush of your soft lips, wounds aching, ripped open anew.

There’s the faintest edge of teeth as you nip against his skin. He wishes you would sink your teeth in deeper, marking him as yours. You could do anything you wanted to him, anything at all. Your violence would be salvation, your touch a blissful cruelty.

He tries not to make any sound as you place another kiss along his bare, slender neck. It’s too sensitive, and he can feel every inch of your touch. It’s painful, and he wants you to kiss him until he’s numb and afraid and you are all he can remember.

Something familiar clicks around his neck. His choker. The weight of it grounds him, and Harumasa lets out a slow breath. When he looks back up at you, you look uncharacteristically hesitant and nervous.

“Was it too much?” you murmur, fiddling with your fingers.

In response, all he can do is take one of your hands in his own. Hands that have saved him, over and over, in ways he can name and ways he can’t.

You’re quiet as Harumasa brings your fingers to his lips and wets the tip of them with his tongue, gentle as nothing else. He can taste the sweetness of your skin, and feel the slight tremor of your hand. To anyone else, you would be stone, efficient, responsible, impenetrable. 

It’s a beautiful part of you, as every part of you is beautiful. But to Harumasa, who holds any part of yourself that you offer with a greedy intensity, you are love itself, and so he will know you like nothing else.

You let out a little gasp as he laps at your fingers again. He nibbles at your forefinger, a teasing edge of teeth. You’re sweeter than life itself, and he could get drunk off of you, again and again. 

There are things he’s afraid to say, things he can’t give you. He is afraid, always afraid. Afraid of you, afraid of the day this choker will fall from his neck forever and he’ll turn into something you can’t recognize, afraid of the tears he’ll make you shed. 

He has never been someone who could accept love, who could live with an ordinary relationship, with an ordinary happiness. This is as far as he can go, and this is enough for a man who has never had anything before this. To stay by your side, to treasure every moment with you, to be accepted so wholly. 

Life is cruel and life is kind, but this is a life all his own, one he has built and chosen for himself. No matter what happens after, Harumasa will always remember this: the sweetness of this life of his.

[callsign-rogueone]

five thirty

Dain Aetos x reader (Love!)

words: 1.0k

🏷️: no book spoilers, no warnings, set the week before fw begins, I decided to split this up so you’ll get Liam in the next one! I just wanted to post something today.

You don’t recognize the pattern of the knock at the door — it isn’t the specific rhythm your friends use to let you know it’s them. No point in answering, then.

The knocking stops, whoever it is outside seemingly giving up. You can roll back over and sleep until ten minutes before formation, like usual.

Then it starts again, louder.

You groan into your pillow, dragging yourself out of bed and grabbing a knife off of your desk before you unlock the door, pulling at Cosa’s power just in case. “…Dain?”

He wrenches his gaze away from the smooth expanse of your bare thighs as he speaks, his cheeks reddening. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

You bring a hand up to yawn, and the sleepy sigh you let out as you exhale stirs something in his chest. “It’s too damn hot for pants,” you answer finally.

He’ll give you that — it’s the second week of July, and the humidity is killer; he hasn’t been sleeping fully clothed either.

You realize he still hasn’t told you why he’s here. “Do you need something?”

“It’s Tuesday,” he responds, as if that should clear things up. “Leadership run?”

“Huh?”

“Every Tuesday and Thursday at 5:30, all the leadership gets together for a group run. Nobody told you about this?”

You really hope he’s fucking with you, but he’s never seemed like the pranky type, too by the book to do anything like this as a joke. “Five thirty,” you repeat, to confirm. “Five thirty in the morning.”

“Yes. Which is in about…” he peers behind you, looking at the clock on your desk. “three minutes.”

You take a deep breath, considering shutting the door in his face and crawling back into bed, consequences be damned, when Garrick appears behind him, also dressed for a workout.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

It’s definitely not a prank. They’d never team up for something like this.

“Told you she’d be pissed,” Garrick says to Dain, grinning. “Now put some clothes on.”

You give him the finger, shutting the door with a gust of air and moving to go get dressed. Stupid fucking deathtrap military school, fucking morale leadership bullshit. If it wouldn’t get you in trouble with Brennan, you’d ask to be demoted just so you won’t have to do this twice a week.

You open the door again, seeing only Dain waiting for you. Of course Garrick would abandon you with him. He probably thinks this whole thing is hilarious.

You move through the hallway in silence, down the flight of stairs and out to the courtyard. The rest of the leadership is nowhere to be seen, but Dain seems to know where you’re going, motioning for you to follow him as he starts off at a steady jog.

You don’t bother to ask how long this run will be, because you know that the answer, whatever it is, is going to be too long. Thankfully he seems to notice that you need a break, slowing to a stop after a quarter mile or so.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” you pant, reaching for your waterskin — it’s only half-full, and a little stale, since you haven’t refilled it in a day, but you’ll take what you can get: you feel like you’re dying.

“It’s tradition,” he answers, as if that’s obvious.

“One that I cannot wait to end next year.”

He bristles. “You can’t just decide to end a hundred year old tradition like that.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone did,” you mutter.

You see Dain’s eyes soften, but you pull your gaze away quickly, not wanting to have this conversation right now. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

You swipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, not acknowledging the apology. “Come on. We’re behind.”

After another few minutes, you see a pack of at least a hundred headed toward you, likely on the second half of an out-and-back run. “About time you two joined us,” Garrick says, patting you on the back a little too hard as you fall in next to him and Bodhi.

“You were the one who left us behind,” you rasp. “And not everyone is as freakishly tall as you. You’re impossible to make pace with.” Speaking of freakishly tall… “Hold on. Where’s Xaden?”

“Your brother chose not to join us,” Amber Mavis answers, making it clear in her tone that she hates the pair of you — and that she doesn’t respect your self-described relation to the wingleader. As if you didn’t hate her enough already.

You turn your head in her direction, hoping the look on your face makes it obvious how much you despise everything about her. “You’re telling me this is optional?”

“Not for you, princess,” Garrick answers. “When you’re a wingleader, you can decide how to spend your mornings. Until then, you’re here with us.”

Great.

Another knock.

You scrape yourself off the mattress, not bothering with the knife this time: you know it’s Dain, here to wake you up. You’re still sore from the last run — you hadn’t had time to stretch first, and even though you’d missed part of it by being late, it was still too much for you.

“Gimme a minute,” you mumble in greeting, not bothering to close the door as you turn around to find socks and shoes.

“Did you sleep in your running clothes?” he asks, watching your little wisps of air move through the room, straightening up and making your bed.

“Mm,” you reply. “Saves time.”

“Smart,” he comments idly. His eyes catch on the small brown shape floating down onto your pillow — a stuffed bear.

Your cheeks warm as you realize what he’s looking at. “Yes, I brought him with me. He was one of the only things that survived the fire.”

“I understand,” he reassures. “I had a little green dragon for a while. It got lost when we moved outposts. I was inconsolable for a week, apparently.”

“Aw. Did you find it, or just get another one?”

“Neither,” he answers, still looking at the bear. “I just got over it, I guess.”

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[peppertoastuniverse]

something good – gojo satoru x reader

contents: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru mention, ieri shoko mention, light angst with LOTS OF FLUFF, mentally strugging softboy!satoru gojo, lots of yearning, 2 pages of making out, slightly suggestive summary: gojo uncovers hidden memories and realises that all he needs is you wc: 3.6k a/n: thank you to the anon who sent this sweet request!

spring time, second year.  “.. it looks like me and you haven’t really changed that much, hey?” he says softly, the fondness for you showing in his younger face all those years before.   even when he didn’t ask, he knew that you would always be there. you were his constant. he didn’t know when he started seeing you in everything he did, if you could see his thoughts, you’d be able to see your smile reflecting back at you.

“satoru?” still concentrating on his nintendo DS, he sighs. he recognizes suguru’s tone, it either going to be a deep question or a fucking stupid one. he rolls over with a groan on suguru’s bed to face his best friend, his book that he was reading lay forgotten on his desk. “yeah?” satoru asks lazily, eyes darting back to his flashing screen. “who do you see yourself as in the future?” oh, here we go. satoru fights the need to roll his eyes. “what do you want for your life?”  “pff, I want to just fucking beat this level.” he says aggravatingly, groaning dramatically as his character dies again. suguru laughs seeing his flashing screen, previous annoyance disappearing instantly, satoru can’t help but grin back – he always liked suguru’s laugh. 

“...don’t you ever think about it though? the future?” the future?

he blinks. blessed with great strength and power, he knew from a young age that that choice wasn’t something that he was lucky enough to have. satoru never had to worry about the future, he had his whole life planned out for him. the thought never saddened him, and why should it? he wasn’t a fool and believed that all things were equal in this world. he was the chosen one, the future of jujutsu society – that was just how life was –  another consequence of being the honoured he supposed. but glancing at suguru’s thoughtful expression, the flicker of hope and despair in his violet eyes, his rough hands winding through his dark hair, it was clear to see that this obviously mattered to suguru. satoru didn’t understand where suguru was going with this but it was just like him to worry about things that didn’t matter. satoru sighs, attention back to his game,  “i dunno, it’s hard to say when we’re already the strongest. what else could you want?” suguru scoffs, shaking his head “you won’t be a teenager forever – you’d better wake up sooner or later, satoru.” satoru jolts awake, moving his blindfold up to rub his eyes irritatedly. 

shit, for once he didnt mean to fall asleep.

still feeling slightly disoriented, he hastily slides off of the couch, moving quickly to his room down the hall. groaning as he glances at the clock in the hall, he sighs hoping to ignore his slightly teary eyes. he was going to be late – you were going to kill him. 

satoru hasn’t been sleeping well lately – not that it was from a lack of effort. he’s tried melatonin pills, exercising before bed, even those sleepy girlie time party mocktails – or whatever you called them – but nothing helped. it definitely wasn’t the endless missions that the irritating higher ups were making him go on, he was used to the workload. maybe he was worried about something. walking quickly through his room, satoru wondered if you were getting enough sleep. did you have dreams too? sleep never seemed to be there when he wanted it. rubbing his face, to fully pull himself into reality, satoru could still feel the remnants of the quiet comfort produced by his unexpected dream. he felt shame at the feeling. guilt in the comfort. 

satoru didnt get a lot of sleep to begin with, but there were times where the extra hours awake weren’t all bad. he might as well be useful, which is how satoru started learning how to cook in the early hours of the morning, proudly surprising tsumiki and megumi with cute bento boxes. he would binge watch a whole tv series at once, determined to tell nanami all about it at jujutsu tech. but he thinks the best use of his time awake was when he was simply seated on the couch with you, listening to you talk about your day until the drowsiness would overtake you and he could just hold you for a little bit. he liked when you came over, tsumiki and megumi liked it too. just last week, when he saw your expression melt when tsumiki begged you to stay for dinner, giving into her like you always have. satoru remembers your grin as you sat next to silently pleased megumi, picking out the tender pieces of chicken from your plate to give him more of his favourite. when you were around satoru noticed that fushiguros were more at ease, and he couldn’t help but think that maybe it would be better if you moved in. but this was uncharted territory – a necessary boundary– protecting you from the rise and fall of his storm. his greed would have to lay dormant in his dreams. 

but the lines were getting blurrier throughout the years. satoru couldnt deny how his face would light up when you’d call him while he was on a lengthy overnight mission. concern smothering the delight in your voice that he was still awake (“satoru! what the fuck, did you even sleep today?”), he’d easy dodge your concerns, covering the fatigue in his voice with teasing remarks and crude jokes to your obvious frown.  “tell me something good, satoru” you’d say, seeing right through him like you always did, voice still laced with sweetness, wanting nothing more than to listen to him talk. 

taking wide strides across his room to throw something on, satoru rustles quickly into his closet grabbing whatever looked clean and appropriate. if he showed up in his crinkled pajamas again to a meeting again, you’d surely cuss him out. his eyebrows crease at the thought of disappointing you, he was supposed to make you smile not stress you out – he made a promise to himself to always look out for you and there you go again worrying about him. 

hastily grabbing the folded dark blue sweater at the back of his closet, blue eyes widen at a box toppling to the floor. its contents dramatically spilling across the cold hardwood floors. 

great. he didn’t have time for this. groaning, he quickly kneels down to right the box, his breathing hitches. 

strewn across his floor, he sees scenes of his missing dreams. photographs of his time at jujutsu tech as a student, his eyes taking in the many photographs that shoko had taken, moments of a simpler past. gathering the pile of photos, he slowly rifles through them – a photo of shoko and him with matching peace signs, a photo of you doing shoko’s hair, blurry photos of suguru chasing after you when you’d steal his cigarettes, snickering photos of him trying to climb suguru like a tree, a photo of you and kento sharing sandwiches. 

another lifetime ago. he picks up the slightly faded photo of himself and you, a reminder of a well loved memory. satoru shakes his head softly at the way you sat on his back while he was sprawled out on the gym mats, his glasses perched at the top of your head acting as a crown on your shit eating face.  satoru cant help but grin at his own small pout in the grainy photo. shoko always had the best timing. you had a bet with suguru that if you could get gojo’s glasses, he would treat you to unlimited free ramen from that nice place in shibuya with the fresh noodles for two months. 

satoru remembered how you’d excitedly roll off him ignoring his grumbling, “toru, you know i had to win! it’s suguru! have you seen how much sugu eats? that fucker would run me dry! but don’t worry, i’ll get him to pay for you too.” 

he never told you that he had let you win of course, not putting up much of a fight, distracted by the smile on your face – so bright that he couldn’t bear to diminish it. you must have had some sort of curse in your smile, even convincing a begrudging suguru into paying for satoru everytime, “sugu, you have to! he’s going to whine and cry, do you really want to deal with that?” 

after that month, satoru never went to back that ramen place again– too sick of it to go back. he could hear the creaking floors when the three of you would arrive,  the smell of the rich broth and the sound of suguru’s laughter when he teased you.   satoru knows you havent had shio ramen since then – you insisted on have ramen for every meal for a month to suguru’s annoyance. perhaps he’d invite you to go eat there again if it was still there. 

somewhere in his mind he thinks he hears the warm sound of your arrival, the jingling of the key that he gave you when the fushiguros first moved in. your usual light steps, heavy now with annoyance. 

“really, satoru?” you yell, annoyance dripping from your sharp tongue. “i’ve been calling you a billion times, this is an important meeting – we can’t be late again. you fucking said you’d be ready by the time i –” you see his still figure hunched at his closet. your eyes narrow in confusion, your tightened fist unclenching at the sight of his still broad back. 

“... satoru?” you call, voice softening as you notice the tension in his shoulders and the unnatural stillness of his too tall body. curiously you creep up behind him, your  slow hands feel his shoulders, the tension cold and heavy in his muscles, your hesitant hands leaving a trail of fire behind them. arms weaving their way around his slender neck, a place that you’ve been before. your eyes take in the photos strewn on the floor, visions of a past life swirling in his cluttered mind. your eyes widen. 

“..’toru?” you try again – more gently – calling him from the abyss, a light in a rough storm. eventually, you feel his large cold hand reach up to gently hold your right hand in response, his blue eyes tear away from the photographs, tousled white hair leaning against your abdomen, his tired eyes looking up at your concerned face. 

“hey.” he greets you, trying to mask his fallen expression with a hollow smile, a carefully practiced defense, something that he developed in childhood but perfected in suguru’s absence. but you knew him well. you knew how his eyebrows would crease or how his lip twitched when he was on the verge of crying.  

the dark rings around his eyes echoes you concern – were they darker than usual? you sigh as you take into account his far away stare, his icy watery eyes. crouching down, all anger forgotten, you look over his shoulder to take a closer look at the photo he’s holding. apologetically you let go of his hand in exchange for the photograph, sitting down beside him instead. you miss his eyebrows furrow slightly missing the comforting squeeze of your hand. a bittersweet smile dancing on your face, you stare at the photo, all words dying on your suddenly too heavy tongue. a photo of a past life, a happier time:  suguru’s exasperated expression contrasting his bright amethyst eyes, face fashioned in a pout as he was sandwiched obnoxiously in between you and satoru. a wild grin decorating your face, mischievous eyes closed in mid laughter at suguru’s grumbling, while satoru pulled bunny ears behind suguru.

“oh god, look at him.” you whisper pointing out suguru’s dark shorter hair when he first arrived at jujutsu tech. you almost forgot what he looked like before he – 

your eyes blink, you didn’t want to think about it. 

satoru scoffs, “i know, doesn’t he look like an idiot?” 

“remember how you’d make fun of him all the time? you were such a bully to him – he really hated you when we started.” you laugh sadly.  

“that’s not my fault, he was fucking asking for it! he kept calling me q-tip! or nepobaby!” he counters, betraying tenderness in his tone. “shut up, i know you liked it when he called you anything close to baby!” you quip back, face denouncing you in a soft grin. a heavy silence invades the intimate space between you two, his absence sitting in between you, his rightful spot now vacant.  suguru. you lean your head on satoru’s shoulder, his arm moving around you to settle at your waist instinctively. you look into his eyes reading him easily: i miss him too. 

suguru’s defection was still a sore spot in your mind. satoru still hasnt been able to say his name out loud, suguru’s name carrying too much weight. you suspected that satoru wanted to carry his best friend with him despite the heaviness, a sense of masochistic comfort. you hoped that he knew that you were always there for him when the time came, you still felt the hurt too. 

but there was a strange sort of solace that still lingered in his name. suguru’s memory was still soft if you focused but the pain caused by his name was still sharp and rough around the edges. when was the last time you and satoru spoke this openly about him?

the memory still hurt. a wound that would reopen at any given movement, unable to heal, cutting deeper as time went by. 

mercifully sensing the pounding of your heavy heart, satoru clears his throat and fishes out another photo in the messy pile. a photo of shoko and himself, a cigarette dancing on shoko’s lips, gojo looking at her in mid conversation. 

“ewww – look at you here.” you point out, wrinkling your nose, “this really wasnt your best haircut...” 

he scoffs, the twinkle in his eyes showing you his amusement.  “you’re the one who did it – ”

“oh fuck, right!” you laugh, thinking about the very first time satoru begged you to cut his hair – shoko was away on a rare mission–  yelping at you when you closed your eyes in nervousness, resulting in an uneven cut. you both remembered how shoko laughed so hard she cried when she saw him. you definitely didn’t cut his hair this time, admiring his soft locks and even trim. you move your generous hands to comb through his soft hair gently, enjoying the feeling of his undercut under your slow hands. he closes his eyes, a please sigh escaping his lips, tension immediately easing from his body.

“it’s better now though, hey? makes me even more handsome,” he teases, his eyes still closed. 

“nah, still ugly. brings out your buggy eyes. ‘m so glad you started wearing the blind fold.” you mutter, still playing with his hair absentmindedly. 

ignoring his whine, you laugh, “wow, shoko still looks amazing though.. look at her cute little cheeks! I forgot how she used to put pins in her hair like that.” previous annoyance disappearing instantly, satoru can’t help but grin back – he always liked your laugh. 

he watches while a strange far away expression infiltrates your face, picking up a photo, edges creased contrasting the vividness of his memory. shoko and suguru smiling at the camera, while you and satoru were in mid conversation smiling at each other. spring time, second year. 

“.. it looks like me and you haven’t really changed that much, hey?” he says softly, the fondness for you showing in his younger face all those years before.  

even when he didn’t ask, he knew that you would always be there. you were his constant. he didn’t know when he started seeing you in everything he did, if you could see his thoughts, you’d be able to see your smile reflecting back at you. your presence somehow simultaneously exciting him and putting him at ease. maybe it started when you stole his glasses in first year, or the countless detentions you both got in. surely, it must have been the night that suguru left. in the darkness he wasn’t sure who was holding who, your tears mixing with his as you clung to him in your sleep.

maybe it was when you showed up at megumi’s school when he first got into a fight even though you were in the middle of a mission last month, a fire in your eyes. or maybe it was when you comforted tsumiki when she came home upset over a fight with one of her friends. maybe it was in the way you talked her through it, rubbing her back gently while you listened to her through her teary words. or when you ate all his mochi yesterday, cheekily claiming “you said you’d share, satoru!” whenever it started, he knew that something different was blossoming into maturity in the past few months – something that he never knew could be a possibility –  let alone for someone like him. 

“we should take an updated photo, we never have photos of just us,” you decide, turning to face him fully. “my phone or yours?” he asks, eyes still the photo, breathing in the way you smiled at him all those years ago. unchanged. 

“mhm, yours.” you say as he digs his phone out of his back pocket. “i want a good one, ‘kay toru?? i dont need any more photos of you sticking your tongue out..” you mutter, scooching closer to him. “oy, come closer – you’re so far,” you whine, grabbing his forearm urging him to get closer for a better photo. 

“c’mere then..” he mutters, gently shuffling you so that you’re sitting in his lap, as you hum in content at the warmth of his skin against yours. he easily drowned you, this familiar place, his familiar embrace. yet this time you felt the tide shift, something softer, vulnerable – the calm waters after a storm.  you lean your head to his as you both smile for the camera as the shutter echoes through the room. 

moving impossibly closer to you, he turns his head towards you, his phone lay forgotten on the floor. sensing his stare you turn your head to his, eyes questioning his soft gaze. as the air grows thicker bursting with the weight of years of fondness and poorly hidden desires, your eyes flicker to the curve of his lips. breathing the same air as him, you feel light headed, drunk off the very presence of him.   

inching closer he feels his soft lips meet yours, a fluttering feeling, hesitant and foreign but firm and sure. you easily wind your arms around his neck, sighing as you pull him closer, jumping into the deep end when you’ve been wading in the shallows for years. he effortlessly maneuvers you to straddle his lap, large hands pressing against your back, pulling you closer to meld his heart to yours, his hands begging to memorize the feeling of you. 

too preoccupied drowning in him, you hesitantly break away from him to breathe, only to rest your forehead on his. grounding yourself in the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek, uneven and heavy, your erratic heartbeat threatens to break the fragile silence. the air grew hot and heavy, buzzing with anticipation and nerves.  satoru bumps his slender nose with your playfully, causing you to grin. a relieved smile dancing on his face in reply, a silent conversation dancing in his eyes, a celebration of his love, a proclamation of his devotion to you, an apology for waiting this long, an admission of forever. 

needing to feel more of him, you move your hand to cup his flushed cheek, the sweetness in his skin grounds you once more – satoru was always the question and the solution wound tightly into one. confessions of the past and future swirling in his blue, you meet the weight of his tender gaze like you were carrying the strongest’s life in your very hands. his skin burning with your touch, you greedily move to kiss him to soothe the ache, swallowing his smile in your greed. 

melting with the reassurance of his lips to yours like a signature on a previously forgotten love letter, you wonder how you lasted this long without his lips on yours. you bite back a pleased smile as he reciprocates eagerly, deepening the kiss, tongues dancing, his soft lips moving in tandem with a bruising promise to always be yours if you let him. when your hands weave through his hair, a dark purr escaping his throat, reverberating through your core. his arm grips you tightly as his other hand moves to settle at the nape of your neck, feeling your heart beat in sync through his flushed skin. 

breathlessly, with great effort two magnets part, your hands loosening your grip on his soft t shirt. breaths tangling together, drinking in each other. 

still intoxicated by the feeling of you, satoru can’t help but nuzzle into your warmth, his forehead finding yours once more. his eyes still on your swollen lips, evidence of his want, his mind already on the thought of kissing you again, like he would die without the feeling. “y’okay?” you mumble, heaving chest enjoying his touch. 

he chuckles at the absurdity of your question, you should know by now that he was always okay as long as you were with him – the only time that he feels he would get better is when you were there. 

“hey – don’t laugh…” you mutter suddenly embarrassed by his stare, a deeper blush finding a way onto your cheeks emphasizing your growing pout. laughing fully now, his strong arms bring you closer as they wind around your waist sweetly.

unable to resist, you lightly kiss his jawline as his wandering hands brush some hair out of your face. “hmph, you’re such a dick and after everything i do for you too…” you playfully whisper without malice, leaning into his broad chest, rolling your eyes.

“mm.. how should i make it up to you?” he mumbles, slender hand tilting your chin up to force your gaze to look at him. as you bravely meet his tender gaze, you notice that something different was in his eyes.

“damn, i gotta help you with that one too?” you tease, giggle blooming in your throat as he kisses your nose gently. “well… i have a few ideas.” he hums, moving to kiss you fully, slow and sweet savouring you. “you always do…” you mutter, eyes on his grinning lips. 

perhaps now he could answer suguru’s question he thought as you move to rest your head on his shoulder. satoru knew he wanted you. holding you in his arms now, feeling your shy smile on his neck –  he knew that you were something good.

requests are open a/n: they did not make it to the meeting lol ngl this request was tough, but i loved the challenge of writing my first smoochie smoochie scene. reposting this as a stand alone piece for maintenance.

dividers by @/adornedwithlight