#Sudden Siblings AU

[legolasghosty]

Can I request 18. I know autumn camping trips are totally aesthetic but it’s cold as shit in this tent, can we snuggle? for either Boggie or Flarrie? Your choice.

- @michelangelinden

You say or, I say and. Same thing, right? /j Anyways, this one got a bit long, but oh well. This AU just turned into a whole thing in my head, so.... Idk, maybe there will be more of it in the future? Hope you like it! Love you!!!!

The Great Wilson Family Camping Adventure felt like it was doomed even before it began.

Carrie's dad had been going on and on about this plan for months, how he was going to take his kids out into the woods so they could all get to know each other and become closer as a family, away from all the regular pressure of work and school. Yup, kids, plural. 

Ever since Trevor had discovered that his old ex-girlfriend had a son, his son, life in the Wilson household had been a rollercoaster. Carrie was pretty sure she’d never forget coming into the kitchen and discovering her dad on a video call with some woman she’d never seen before. Okay, the video call thing wasn’t that uncommon, though he usually did that sort of stuff in the den. What was unusual about it was the set of her dad’s jaw, the hand clenched around a glass so hard that Carrie was afraid it would shatter, and the even tone he only used when he was nearing a breaking point and didn’t want to show it.

It had taken some time for the whole story to come out, but eventually Carrie had pieced together that her dad had dated this girl back before meeting Carrie’s mom, and that they’d broken up because she was going out with someone else behind his back. The woman had moved away from the area, neither her nor Trevor realizing she was pregnant.

The next part of the story was blurry at best, since the only one who was both willing and able to talk about it had been six or seven at the time. But as near as Carrie could figure out, there had been some… issues in the life of Dierdra Shaw leading to many things, including a CPS investigation and her son, Bobby, going to live with his grandparents in Los Angeles.

And so, by some weird, cruel twist of fate, one of Julie’s bandmates turned out to be Carrie’s biological half-brother.

Carrie didn’t have any issues with Bobby, per se, but… it wasn’t like they had much in common. He liked alt-rock and lived in the same pair of vans 24/7. She preferred pop and power ballads and would change shoes at least twice a day, thanks to dance classes and various events. And her dad, their dad, was making all of them go camping together. For ‘family bonding’ or something.

But at ‘family dinner’ a few nights before they left, her dad had asked Bobby if there was anything he wanted to bring to make it more comfortable or fun. It was a reasonable question, but instead of bringing up food or a space heater like Trevor was probably expecting, Bobby had hesitantly asked if it would be okay for him to bring Reggie, his bandmate and boyfriend.

That night, after Bobby had confirmed all the plans for the trip and gone home, Carrie had asked her dad if Flynn could join them as well, since Reggie was coming. Her dad had made excuses about how Reggie was just coming since Bobby didn’t know either of them that well, but Carrie had refused to budge. Whether her dad acknowledged it or not, this was an awkward situation for her too.

“Okay, I think that’s our site.”

Her dad’s overly cheery tone pulled Carrie out of her thoughts. She looked up from her phone just as he parked the SUV. Her dad and Reggie had both tried to get people talking at the start of the three-hour trek, but with Carrie and Bobby stuck in the middle together, things hadn’t exactly gotten chatty. It had quickly turned into an ‘everyone has their headphones on and is ignoring each other’ type of drive, apart from Reggie and Trevor in the front seat. Carrie really hoped Bobby couldn’t tell that she spent most of the time texting with her girlfriend, who was literally sitting right behind her.

Look, it was just awkward, okay? She and Bobby had always been chill, but they weren’t friends, not really. To her, he was Julie’s bandmate and Reggie’s boyfriend. He probably thought of her as Julie’s friend or Flynn’s girlfriend or something. But her brother? No, that was just too weird. 

But she also cared about her dad. She hadn’t seen him this anxiously excited in years. So she could do this. And she had Flynn to keep her sane while they all did something Carrie was 99% sure her dad hadn’t done since he was little.

“Ah, smell that fresh mountain air,” Trevor declared enthusiastically as he climbed out of the car.

Bobby still had one earbud in, but at Reggie’s encouraging nod, he said, “Yeah, it’s nice.”

Carrie was pretty sure her dad’s smile was going to blind someone if he kept it up. She slid out of the car and walked quickly around to the trunk. “The tent is going to be big enough for all five of us, right?” she asked.

“Sure it will be,” Trevor responded, opening the trunk and pulling out a big, blue cooler that Carrie knew he must have borrowed from Julie’s dad. “Bobby, you wanna help me get it set up?” he asked, pulling the tent (also most likely belonging to the Molinas) out of the back.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably but shrugged. “Sure,” he said quietly.

Reggie followed the two men over to the middle of the campsite, where there was a large flat area for the tent. Carrie started pulling bags of food out of the trunk while they dealt with the tent.

“How you holding up,” Flynn asked quietly, taking a bag from her.

“I’m fine I guess,” Carrie answered, leaning on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Flynn raised their eyebrows, making it clear that they knew it was a lie, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she helped Carrie unpack the van, setting all the food on the wooden picnic table, which looked about two minutes from collapsing, and piling the sleeping bags in the backseat until the tent was ready for them.

Then, because her dad, Bobby, and Reggie were still struggling with the tent, Carrie carefully started on dinner. Thank goodness her dad had brought the little propane stove, since she had no idea how to cook over a fire. Flynn managed to get it turned on and they got some water boiling without too many issues. Carrie poured in what should be enough pasta for everyone to cook, standing guard so it didn’t boil over. Flynn moved behind her and wrapped their arms around her waist.

“You having a good time back there?” Carrie snarked as Flynn rested their chin on her shoulder.

“I’m watching my hot girlfriend make me dinner, I’m having a great time,” Flynn retorted.

“Flattery won’t get you food any sooner,” Carrie sassed, ignoring the flush in her cheeks at both the compliment and her partner’s proximity. “You’re still gonna have to wait till this finishes.”

“Awww, not even a little taste?” Flynn asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “Someone has to make sure it’s not poisoned.”

“Wow, you think I’d poison you?” Carrie responded, tone dripping with mocking sweetness. “Please, I could think of a million better ways to kill you if that’s what I wanted, sweetie.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Flynn challenged, leaning in closer so Carrie felt the words against her cheek.

“Who’s poisoning dinner?” Trevor asked, coming up to them with a confused expression.

Carrie rolled her eyes. “No one, dad, it was a joke,” she informed him as she checked the pasta. It seemed to be done, so she carefully lifted it off the stove.

“Here, let me help,” Bobby said, grabbing the strainer and holding it out for her.

Carrie was surprised by the gesture but carefully poured the pasta into the offered container. Once she mixed it with the sauce, they all settled down around the table to eat. Carrie was glad when Flynn immediately settled against her side, letting Carrie lean on her without it being so obvious to the rest of the group.

“So, Bobby, what’s your favorite thing to do out here in the woods?” Carrie’s dad asked, grinning widely.

“Uh, I mean, I’ve never been here,” Bobby responded uncertainly. “Lola didn’t like driving this far, so we usually stayed closer to the city.”

The table fell into an awkward silence for a minute. Carrie could feel the tension building with every passing second, but she had no idea how to break it without making things worse. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it broken. Because this was how it was now, all the time. At school events and barbeque parties at the Molinas’ and the ‘family dinners’ that her dad had never even tried to make happen before he realized he had another kid. It was mean, but a part of Carrie wished all that tension would just snap like a rubber band, hurling everyones’ lives back to how they were before. 

“Well you can’t have a good camping trip without s’mores,” Reggie commented finally.

“Yes!” Trevor exclaimed, locking onto the topic. “I haven’t made them in years, but I have marshmallows and everything so we can give it a shot after dinner.”

“Did you get Reeses?” Flynn asked. “Peanut butter s’mores are God’s gift to humanity.”

The conversation continued between the three of them, both Carrie and Bobby staying quiet. Carrie was endlessly grateful to her partner for being willing to come on this dumpster fire of a camping trip. 

She glanced over at Bobby, trying to gauge his mood. He was staring at the table, not quite angrily, but… something. Carrie couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was intense, like poking your head into another room only to realize that a horror movie was playing inside. Scary, but not angry. Just… intense and unexpected. She was surprised to realize that she didn’t want to run away from it.

“Okay, Bobby, you want to help me build a fire?” her dad asked, pushing up to his feet.

Carrie tried to ignore the little sting that came from Bobby being the only one on the receiving end of the invite. She was getting used to that.

“Sure,” Bobby responded quietly, sticking his dirty bowl in the dish bin and heading over to the firepit.

The two men crouched by the rusty metal enclosure, Bobby reaching inside to carefully lay down some sticks. Reggie watched them for a minute, his face a mix of love and concern, then turned to Flynn and Carrie.

“You guys mind helping me with the dishes?” he asked, grabbing a bucket. “It’s a lot faster with more than one set of hands.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Flynn agreed.

Carrie quietly followed the pair over to the bathrooms, where Reggie filled up his bucket with warm water from the spigot outside.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Reggie asked Carrie as they walked back.

She looked up at him, startled by the question. “Shouldn’t you be asking your boyfriend that?” she responded, fighting to keep the instinctive snap out of her voice.

“I have been,” Reggie answered. “And this whole thing is really hard for him. I can’t imagine it’s any easier for you. So are you doing okay?”

Carrie felt Flynn’s hand slip into hers as she considered how to answer. It wasn’t like she and Reggie were close at all, the only one of the guys she felt she really was close with was Alex, and maybe Willie. But they’d spent some time watching lousy Hallmark movies together after everyone else fell asleep at movie night. She’d bought him pizza for lunch. He’d given her a ride a few times. They weren’t quite friends, but…

“Not really,” she admitted. “It’s nothing against Bobby, it’s just this whole thing is… a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Flynn said, squeezing her hand.

They reached the campsite then and Reggie grabbed the dish soap and sponge to start doing the dishes. Flynn picked up a towel to dry them once he was done. Left without a task, Carrie sat back down at the picnic table, watching her dad and Bobby build their fire.

Just then, Bobby glanced back at her, that unreadable expression still on his face. “Hey Carrie, could you bring me the lighter?” he called.

Carrie raised an eyebrow and was about to point out that there was clearly a book of matches sticking out of his back pocket, but suddenly some part of his expression made sense. He wasn’t asking for a lighter, he was asking for a lifeline. Until Reggie had mentioned it a few minutes ago, Carrie hadn’t thought much about how this would feel from Bobby’s side of things. But suddenly finding out that some famous music star was your biological father, being pulled into a family you had no concept of, it couldn’t be easy. Especially with all of said biological father’s attention on you whenever you were in the same room.

“Yeah, just a sec,” she responded, glancing around the table for a minute before spotting the little green lighter. She grabbed it and joined Bobby and her dad by the firepit. She handed over the lighter, then placed herself between Bobby and her dad as she gave the little twig tent a skeptical look. “Is that actually gonna work?” she questioned.

Bobby shot her a grateful look at making some space between him and their dad, but didn’t comment. “Watch and learn,” he chuckled instead, setting a piece of crumpled paper inside and setting it on fire. 

Slowly but surely, the sticks started to catch. Bobby carefully fed larger branches and eventually logs into the dancing flames, looking more at peace here than Carrie had ever seen him outside of band practice and the occasional group movie night. She settled on a log bench beside the fire, watching the sparks fly up into the darkening sky. Flynn joined her a few minutes later, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Carrie rested her head gratefully on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Her dad went back to the car to find a proper camp chair, complaining about his back, and Carrie could see some of the tension start to leave Bobby’s body as the distance between them grew. Reggie dropped onto another log right behind Bobby, and he leaned back against his legs, shooting a smile up at his boyfriend and receiving a quick peck on the lips. Carrie smiled as she watched them. Regardless of her relationship to Bobby, she was glad to see the two of them so happy together. That little spark of joy at seeing another happy queer couple didn’t go away just because one of them was suddenly your half-brother. 

When her dad returned, he started telling stories. Carrie suspected it was an attempt to avoid the awkward silence. But she’d heard most of them before, so she let herself tune him out in favor of breathing in the clean air of the woods and the fruity scent of Flynn’s body wash. Their sweater was soft against her skin, her fingers tracing patterns on Carrie’s shoulder. If her dad wasn’t literally five feet away, Carrie would probably have leaned up and kissed her. Not that her dad was homophobic, but… kissing in front of your dad just felt wrong.

Bobby seemed to have fallen into a similar zoned-out state, poking the fire every so often with a long stick and leaning back to rest his head against Reggie’s knees. One of the bassist’s hands wove slowly through Bobby’s dark hair as the night fell. A few stars appeared in the sky, scattered with the rising sparks from the fire. Trevor finally fell silent, just watching the fire. Carrie was glad. She got wanting to bond with the son you never knew you had, but he’d been laying it on way too heavy, clearly making everyone uncomfortable.

If there was one thing Carrie had learned in the past few years, it was that you couldn’t force relationships to happen. She’d tried it a million times, with Nick, with Julie, with Flynn. She’d tried to make things fit what she wanted without doing the hard work to reach that real place of trust, and it had caused pain for everyone. She’d made her peace with all of them now, counting Nick and Julie as her best friends and stealing kisses with Flynn after shows, but it had taken a long time. Family wasn’t built in a day.

After a while, Bobby softly informed them all that the fire was low enough for roasting marshmallows. Reggie jumped up almost immediately, almost making Bobby fall with how fast he ran to grab the s’more supplies from the table. Carrie’s dad seemed almost as excited, handing out roasting sticks and moving his chair so he could try and make his without having to sit on the ground.

Reggie quickly readied his stick and started toasting his marshmallow, giggling about something with Bobby as he slowly turned the stick. Bobby just smiled and sat down beside him with his own sugary treat.

“Yeah I have no idea how to do this,” Carrie hissed to her girlfriend, watching the boys in confusion.

Flynn laughed, then pulled her to her feet. “I got you, babe,” they promised. “Ray taught me all the tricks.”

Carrie rolled her eyes affectionately and let Flynn stick a marshmallow onto the end of her stick. They settled beside the fire as Flynn showed her how to find the hot spots and keep rotating her rod so the sugar didn’t burn. At one point, she glanced up and caught Bobby’s eye over the hot coals. He smiled. It was a bit awkward, but well… having a civil conversation with Julie was awkward for a while too. She smiled back.

Later, after they’d probably all had too much sugar and Bobby had put out the fire, they brushed their teeth in the dirty, communal bathroom and changed into pajamas. Carrie was glad she’d brought some thicker, fluffy pants to sleep in, because she was starting to shiver by the time they got back to the tent. Reggie had clearly not had the same thought, as he was wearing thin, red flannel pants and curling into Bobby’s side almost immediately when they left the bathrooms.

Her dad flipped on the little space heater in the tent, then crawled into his own sleeping bag.

“Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me seeing,” he muttered sleepily as he slumped down onto his pillow.

Carrie fought the urge to burst out laughing. When she glanced over at the others in the dim light of Reggie’s flashlight, she could see similar expressions of amusement on their faces, though Bobby looked a bit red as well.

“He does realize we’re literally all sex-averse or something, right?” Flynn whispered.

“I haven’t even tried having that conversation with him yet,” Carrie responded wryly. “Can you imagine telling your dad that he didn’t really have to go through the extreme awkwardness of giving you The Talk because you never wanted to do that anyways?”

Everyone laughed and settled into their sleeping bags, Carrie the closest to the entrance with Flynn beside her and Bobby and Reggie near the back. The space heater was in the middle of the space, but it wasn’t really warming it up very quickly. Carrie could hear Reggie shivering after a few minutes, and then a whispered voice.

“Hey, I know camping trips are supposed to be an aesthetic or something, but it’s freezing,” Reggie hissed, probably to Bobby. “Can we please cuddle?”

Carrie heard a low chuckle from Bobby, and then the swishing sounds of the two moving closer together. She couldn’t quite make out their hushed words, but she smiled anyways. Yeah, this was the most awkward (and only) camping trip she’d ever been on, but she was glad they were here.

Well, okay, she wasn’t hugely fond of here here, she could live without the smell of woodsmoke in her hair and the pine needles that kept appearing in literally everything, but it was nice to be out with her dad and Flynn and Reggie and her brother. Stepbrother? Half brother? They could figure that one out later. But for the first time since she’d walked in on her dad giving his laptop a death glare, she felt like they might actually be something, not just blood, but maybe something akin to family.

“You doing okay?” Flynn hummed in the darkness.

“Yeah, I am,” Carrie answered honestly.

“Good, because I’m freezing,” Flynn stated. “Aesthetics are overrated, I want cuddles.”

“You stole that from Reggie,” Carrie accused, giggling.

“You got a problem with it?” Flynn snarked back.

“No,” Carrie chuckled, shifting over and partially unzipping her sleeping bag to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. 

“Good,” Flynn said, curling closer and nuzzling into the crook of Carrie’s neck. “Cause I need some of that hot Wilson body heat right now.”

Carrie smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her partner’s head. “Goodnight, love you.”

“Night, love you too.”

[101-sve]

Fledglings

Snapshots, 1984-1987

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Forever obsessed with the fanon running gag where whenever one of the Batkids finds themselves in a situation where they have to take care of a scared child/street kid, they all have to constantly suppress the immediate urge to take the kid home.

Because holy fuck they might have picked up a lot of habits from Bruce (for better and for worse), but if there's one habit they absolutely refuse to take on, it's definitely going to be Bruce's inability to not adopt every sad child in his vicinity.

Which just makes those fics where they do adopt a kid so much funnier.

[geralehane]

okay but. hear me out. rhaenicent modern au where alicent and rhaenyra have never been childhood friends and otto hightower, the cunt that he is, schemes for his twenty-one year old daughter to marry viserys… rhaenyra is fifteen as the time, sent to boarding school through otto‘s scheming… fifteen years later, rhaenyra is back to claim her inheritance and otto thinks alicent is on his side in this one - except she’s been steadily falling in love with her own stepdaughter for the past ten years

(also chaotic targaryen half-siblings aegon aemond and rhaenyra working together to dethrone otto and save alicent from his clutches once and for all)

[wolfoftonight]

Stealing the entire group of turtles and then booking it

[rafecameronssl4t]

Like her mama || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: inspired by this TikTok sound

Warnings: none!! just fluff :)

Word count: 1,416

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you turn from the sink, water dripping from the freshly washed fruit in your strainer, Topper’s voice interrupts your thoughts. "Need some help with that?" he asks, his tone friendly and familiar. You glance over your shoulder, offering him a warm smile.

"I'm all good, thanks, Top," you reply, your eyes twinkling with gratitude. He nods and takes a seat on the nearby stool, settling in comfortably. Your attention shifts to the pool outside, where Rafe, Mabel, and Kelce are enjoying the morning sun.

"Everything alright out there?" you ask, your curiosity genuine as you look to Topper for reassurance. He glances outside, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, they’re all good. The water’s really nice," he says with a chuckle.

You turn back toward the pool just in time to see Rafe holding Mabel in his arms, her tiny pink bucket hat slightly askew, too big for her small head. You wave, a soft giggle escaping your lips when Rafe lifts Mabel’s hand to mimic your wave, though you’re certain she can’t actually see you.

Topper can’t help but chuckle along with you. "Can’t believe she’ll be seven months next week," he remarks, his tone tinged with amazement. You let out a small sigh as you begin slicing the oranges, arranging them neatly on a platter. "Don’t remind me," you reply with a soft laugh. "She’s growing up so fast."

The two of you continue chatting, the conversation flowing easily until Rafe strolls into the kitchen. His hair is damp, the blonde strands clinging to his forehead, and tiny droplets of water trail down his chest and stomach, glistening in the soft light.

"Hi, baby," he greets you, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek. "Hi," you respond, your smile widening at his touch. Rafe’s eyes drift down to the platter you’re preparing. "That looks amazing," he comments, quickly snatching a strawberry and popping it into his mouth before you can protest. You shake your head playfully, amused by his antics.

"Is Mabel all right?" you ask, glancing at him as he leans casually against the counter. "Mmhmm," he hums in affirmation, then suggests with a grin, "You should come in the water after this." You chuckle softly. "I will, I will," you promise, as he leans in for another quick kiss before heading back outside.

Topper watches him go, shaking his head with a smirk. "Rafe’s a complete softie now, huh?" he comments, clearly amused by the transformation in his friend. You snort, unable to hold back your laughter. "Maybe for us. But he still loves arguing with his sisters," you say with a fond smile, recalling the endless bickering between Rafe and his siblings.

Topper’s expression brightens with sudden recollection. "Did I end up tell you what happened this morning at the shops?" he asks, piquing your curiosity. "No? What happened?" you ask, looking up at him, eager to hear the story.

~

Flashback….

“Is she awake?” Rafe asks as he pulls his G-Wagon into a parking spot in front of the store. The engine’s hum fades as he shifts into park, and Kelce leans over to peer into the baby carrier. Mabel, with her big doe eyes, stares back at him, her tiny mouth busy with her pacifier.

“Wide awake,” Kelce reports with a chuckle, meeting her gaze with a grin. The three of them exit the car; Rafe decides against the stroller, opting to scoop Mabel into his arms instead. After all, they were only planning a quick stop. Mabel clings to him, her small hands gripping his shirt as she takes in her surroundings.

As they approach the store, Topper slips his oversized sunglasses onto Mabel’s little face. The glasses are comically large, sliding down her tiny nose, and the sight of it makes both Topper and Kelce snicker. They quickly pull out their phones, snapping a photo of the moment.

Rafe, oblivious to their antics at first, glances over his shoulder when he hears their muffled laughter. “You guys are idiots,” he says, shaking his head, though he can’t suppress the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Topper’s sunglasses barely hanging on Mabel’s face. As her uncles continue to laugh, Mabel lets out a delighted giggle, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the sunglasses.

As they step into the shop, all three boys lift their sunglasses from their noses and perch them on top of their heads. The cool air inside the store is a welcome contrast to the warmth outside. “What are we getting again?” Kelce asks, glancing around as they enter.

Rafe pulls out his phone, scrolling through the list you had sent him. “Y/n gave me a little list,” he replies, quickly scanning the items before reading them aloud. Kelce nods and heads off towards the fruit section, while Rafe, Topper, and Mabel make their way down another aisle to gather the remaining items.

As they pass by the toy section, Rafe can’t resist stopping, his eyes drawn to the colourful display. Mabel’s attention is instantly caught by the toys on the shelves, her small hands reaching out eagerly. “You want that one? What about this too—” Rafe starts, picking up a soft toy, but he’s interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Hey,” the voice says, drawing their attention. Rafe turns to find a girl, probably around their age or a bit younger, standing a few steps away. Her smile is bright, but there’s something in her eyes that makes Topper instantly wary. He notices the way her gaze lingers on Rafe before shifting to Mabel.

“Oh my goodness, what a cute baby you have!” she exclaims, her voice overly sweet, dripping with an eagerness that Rafe recognises all too well. It’s the tone of someone trying just a bit too hard to make an impression.

Without missing a beat, Rafe shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, my wife and I make pretty cute babies, huh?” he responds, his tone cool and dismissive, the question hanging in the air as more rhetorical than anything. He turns his attention back to Mabel, who is now clutching the toy he had picked up, her little fingers wrapped tightly around it. He places it in the shopping cart without sparing the girl another glance.

Topper stifles a grin, barely containing his amusement as they walk away, leaving the girl standing there, her plan clearly foiled. As they continue down the aisle, Rafe mutters under his breath, “The audacity,” his voice laced with mild annoyance, though a small smile still plays on his lips.

Topper bursts into laughter. “You handled that very well, didn’t he, Mabel?” he says, leaning over to tickle Mabel’s tummy. She giggles in response, her tiny hands gripping Rafe’s shirt as she hides her face, her laughter a sweet, infectious sound that makes both men smile even wider.

Rafe glances down at his daughter, his expression softening as he leans in to press a series of tender kisses on the side of her forehead. “Yeah, we don’t need any of that nonsense, do we, baby girl?” he murmurs, his voice overflowing with affection. Mabel giggles softly, her tiny hand reaching up to touch his face, and Rafe smiles, the warmth in his eyes evident as they continue with their shopping.

~

End of flashback...

A smile tugs at your lips as Topper finishes his story, the amusement clear in your eyes. His recount of Rafe's quick wit and protective nature at the store had you both chuckling. The memory lingers, bringing a soft warmth to your heart as you place the final pieces of fruit on the platter.

Topper grabs the colourful tray, balancing it with ease as he heads outside to join the others by the pool. Outside, Mabel is floating happily in a small inflatable ring, her tiny hands splashing the water as Rafe gently moves her around. His smile is wide, the pure joy on his face unmistakable as he watches her delight.

Your hands reach up to start unbuttoning Rafe's oversized button-up shirt that you had used as cover up over your bikini. You step into the pool, feeling the cool water contrast with the warmth of the day, and tie your hair up into a bun.

Rafe glances up at you, a playful glint in his eyes as you wade towards them. "Look, Mabel, Mumma's here," he says with a grin, his voice soft and affectionate. Hearing his words, Mabel turns her head, her big eyes lighting up at the sight of you. A gummy smile spreads across her face, and you can’t help but giggle at her reaction.

You move closer, lifting her gently from the floatie and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You having fun, Bels?" you coo softly, spinning her lightly in the water. She babbles in response, her excitement clear as her little legs kick with glee. Rafe watches with a smile tugging at his lips, his gaze shifting between you and Mabel.

"I just realised you two are matching," he comments, noting your pink bikini and Mabel’s pink bucket hat that’s just a little too big for her. A playful grin spreads across your face. "I planned it," you tease, giving him a wink. Rafe chuckles, moving closer to wrap an arm around your waist and pulling both you and Mabel into a warm embrace.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaning down to tickle Mabel’s tummy. Her infectious giggles echo around the pool, her little hands splashing the water playfully. You and Rafe laugh along with her, the happiness of the moment filling the air.

As you hold Mabel close, feeling the warmth of her tiny body against you, you glance up at Rafe, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We made a pretty cute baby, huh?" you say, your voice filled with pride and affection, echoing the words he had casually tossed out at the shops earlier.

Rafe’s eyes light up with recognition, a smirk forming as he remembers the moment. "Yeah, we sure did. The cutest baby" he agrees, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

[svmjaeyvn]

hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

[13lov]

tethered pt. 2 | jjk

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, ...idk how else to describe it ] reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. long awaited part 2! the amount of love i received from part one was overwhelming and it means to world to meet that so many people instantly fell in love with this couple. another part is already in the works!

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @ilikekpop-c @busanbby-jjk @xjjk187 @aloverga @kookcobain @mzeji @bxcndd @hoseokteardrop @canyon-lwt @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @jksteponme @parkinglot-nights @chromekingkong @jk97bam [ if i didn't tag u it's because tumblr didn't allow me to! ]

part one | masterlist | ao3 | buy me a coffee?

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Somi is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Jeon Jungkook, the simple fact of  him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Somi about hooking up with Jungkook, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you really hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Jungkook told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Somi finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Jeon household once Somi allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Jungkook.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty? 

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Jeon siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them. 

Somi snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Jungkook getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Somi responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person. He’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Somi’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Jungkook or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Somi’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Jeon ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Jeon playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.” 

Mr. Jeon sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon comments, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Somi groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Somi responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Jungkook! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Jungkook is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle. 

“Seriously, Jungkook? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Jungkook cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Somi’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Jungkook takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and remind his parents that Jungkook is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Somi surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Somi. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Jeon responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Jungkook abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Jeon sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Jungkook responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Somi to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Somi say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Jungkook’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Somi to finish locking the front door, Jungkook rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Somi throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Jungkook’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Jungkook watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Somi to do the same. Once Jungkook is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Somi talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Jungkook glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Jungkook a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated for months. He informs you and Somi to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Jungkook shrugs when Somi asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you approach the theater entrance. "Some people say it makes the movie experience better."

You want to ask Jungkook if he's ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone ask him a question. So you're silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Jungkook's bandmates in the far corner.

Well… Jungkook's bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Jungkook with open arms as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had already been watching you. His name tag reads 'Beomgyu,' and he resembles a younger version of Jungkook, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercings. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you're back to watching Jungkook reunite with his friends.

"Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Somi?" The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, because why in God's name is this girl talking to you right now?

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Scar," she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Somi interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. "Your name is Scarlett."

She drags you along to the ticket booth, mumbling about how she doesn't like nor trust Scar. When you ask for her reasoning, she responds with, "I don't need one. I just don't like her."

At least you're on the same page about that. 

Still, you can't help but wonder why Somi has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Somi (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar's personality, so whatever reasons she dislikes her could be legitimate. 

You're thinking of this as Jungkook orders the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognize as Yugyeom starts tapping his shoulder. "We should go see Saw instead; it just came out."

Jungkook looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. "What? No, we came here to see Twilight."

"So?!" Jaebeom chimes in, eyes red as the devil, "Come on, dude, you've already seen Twilight. Don't you wanna see something new?"

"Fuck no, we're literally in the middle of buying the tickets." Jungkook reminds everyone.

"I kinda wanna see Saw, too."

"Same."

"Yeah, me too."

"I do, too."

Jungkook whips his head around at his sister, "What? Even you?"

Somi scoffs, "Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison."

"Come on, guys," the employee interrupts, "you're holding up the line."

Jungkook turns towards you. "Do you still wanna see Twilight?"

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Jungkook was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh. 

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers, which she initially rejects. "I don't need your money," she claims.

"Just take it, Somi. I brought it for you." 

From what you can make out, it's enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it's nice to know Jungkook still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Somi reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket; you watch as Jungkook follows suit, ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's fine. I have enough." You reassure him.

Jungkook laughs to himself, "Why are the two of you like this?" He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier, who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don't know why Jungkook insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence in not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn't matter. You don't know why you're overthinking it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Somi debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations for those whose movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can't really focus with the way Beomgyu is staring at you. You're used to guys always staring, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact. 

Beomgyu is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you're suddenly anxious under his gaze. 

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you're sure to stick close to Jungkook as you approach the counter. Beomgyu eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. "What can I get for you guys?"

Jungkook takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share and doesn't even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn't let you pay, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. "You seriously have to stop doing that." He mumbles, handing Beomgyu the cash.

Beomgyu quickly prepares the popcorn and Jungkook's drink but takes his time making your slushie. He's sure to fill it to the brim, and you're worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. "You didn't want candy or anything?" He questions, handing you your drink. 

You shrug, "Maybe Twizzlers, but—"

Before you can finish, Beomgyu is reaching under the counter and sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. "On me."

"Oh, are you sure?" You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Beomgyu sends Jungkook a cocky smirk before he responds, "Yeah, enjoy the movie."

You thank Beomgyu and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Jungkook to your theater. "That guy was weird." He comments.

"Yeah." You agree, but it's definitely not true. Beomgyu was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Jungkook, who sent you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone straightforward, then you should start going after weirdos.

Once you're settled in your seats in the back of the theater — per Jungkook's request — he clears his throat and says, "So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn't get anything back."

"Oh, sorry. I haven't been using Facebook that much." You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. "Yeah, I figured." He says. When you don't respond, he continues, "I would've asked Somi for your number, but I didn't want her to get suspicious or anything."

"That's smart." You admit, nodding in agreement.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you're too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you've been avoiding him. So you nod and say, "Just a little tired."

It's clear he doesn't believe this; the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers. 

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now. Never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago, you would've been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Jungkook, and now you're considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Jungkook immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are pulled back further. He's reticent throughout the movie, aside from a muffled chuckle occasionally; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Jungkook that you do, in fact, dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you're exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice and that you hope there'll be another movie.

Jungkook smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. "I'm sure there will be. Maybe they'll even cast you as Bella's stunt double since you already have the clothes."

"Shut up." You tease, and it feels nice to joke with him as usual. You may finally have the courage to tell Jungkook why you've been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn't get out for another few minutes, so you're stuck waiting in the lobby for Somi and everyone else. Jungkook gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, "You get free refills on that, I think."

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Beomgyu spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don't want to wait in a long line just for a refill. 

"What flavor?" He asks once you've slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. "How was the movie?"

"It was good. The vampire stuff was cool."

"Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out."

"No, I haven't."

"It's so good; if you wanna give me your number, maybe we can see it together sometime."

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they've already seen? You're not complaining; it's just odd.

Beomgyu is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He promises to call you once his shift ends and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Jungkook, he's gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different. "So you were just using me, huh?"

What? What is he talking about?

"Using you for what?"

"To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?" His voice is slightly hushed now but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

"Jungkook, what are you talking about?"

"You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you've had sex before. Is that what this is?"

This accusation hurts, considering that Jungkook was the only guy you've ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don't know where this theory originated, but you don't like it.

Jungkook continues before you respond, "I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet, here you are, giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!"

"It's not like that, Jungkook!" You don't mean to raise your voice at him, but you can't help it. Both of your emotions were at an all-time high.

"Then what is it like?!"

Here goes nothing.

There are already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. "I didn't reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to have sex with me?"

"No!" You yell in reassurance, "No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn't finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or didn't do enough."

Jungkook quirks a brow at you, "What makes you think I didn't finish?"

You really hate that he's making you explain this. "I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty."

"You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?" Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

"No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger."

Jungkook takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can't tell what he's feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

"So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?" Despite his stern demeanor, he's clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn't a case, but you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Jungkook nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren't for Somi finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would've walked the entire way home.

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Jungkook.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Jeon household not once, telling Somi you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Jungkook; it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious. It's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fucking fit!"

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding, with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn't respond to this, advised by your mother not to and to let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a mouse shake and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you've signed in, Jungkook's page staring right back at you. You're ashamed to admit you'd been cyberstalking him, but you had no choice. Seeing him in person would've been too much, but you still want to ensure he's doing okay.

There's a new post up when you refresh the page; you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It's a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor's perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately; he's in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Somi would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now, you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

A light tap against your door has you swiveling around in your chair. It's Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. "Who's that?"

"Somi's brother." You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. "Oh, yeah. Hasn't changed much, has he?" When you remain silent, she asks, "Would it be wrong of me to assume he's the real reason why you're so upset?"

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. "You'd be very correct, actually."

She nods in understanding, sitting on the edge of your bed. "So, what's going on? You like him?"

"We kind of like each other, I guess." You mumble. Honestly, you're not quite sure how Jungkook feels about you at the moment.

"And Somi doesn't approve of it?"

You snort, "Somi doesn't know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed."

"Are you guys dating?"

"No. We actually haven't talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings."

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Jeon household had you sweating. What if Jungkook doesn’t even want to see you? What if Somi catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Jeon household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Somi were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight. 

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Jungkook,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Jungkook told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap. 

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Jungkook always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Somi, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Jungkook. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Somi? Jeon Somi? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell, yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Jungkook would never.”

“You do know that Somi can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Somi would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory. 

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Jungkook to crawl in. 

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Jungkook groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Jungkook clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Jungkook anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Jungkook snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Jungkook nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah. 

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Jungkook stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Jungkook shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Somi's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Jungkook nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Jungkook plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Somi," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Jungkook you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever. 

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Jungkook is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you. 

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Jungkook enjoys it with the way his erection is already pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Jungkook nods, fingers drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

Jungkook is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, wrist gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Jungkook your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Jungkook likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay. 

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Jungkook stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath you as you sit beside him.

Jungkook slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Somi if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Jungkook finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Jungkook’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Jungkook leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Jungkook mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Jungkook as well. The idea of Somi not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried. 

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Jungkook asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Jungkook.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Jungkook’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Jungkook see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words. 

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Jungkook slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.  

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders. 

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Jungkook pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress. 

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Jungkook reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue. 

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Jungkook is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Jungkook’s fingers.

Jungkook doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Jungkook lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his. 

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Jungkook shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A couple years ago, I was picking on Somi for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Somi should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

The next time you stop by the Jeon household, Jungkook has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Jungkook insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell. 

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Jungkook gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Jungkook shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his. 

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Somi, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Somi. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Jungkook and procrastinating about having that talk with Somi. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother. 

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Jungkook doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Jeon household, following Somi into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up. 

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Somi used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Somi groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Somi responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Jungkook whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Somi asks, handing you another dish.

Somi takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Jungkook for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jungkook says. When Somi finally directs her attention elsewhere, Jungkook takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them. 

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Somi hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Jungkook’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much. 

Jungkook wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Somi and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Somi as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Somi smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Somi jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Somi, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Somi doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there really isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Somi has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, “What kind of friend are you?”

Fuck.

“Somi, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Jungkook? Out of every fucking guy on the planet?!”

“No! Of course not! Somi, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Somi approaches you. The two of you have never been in a physical fight before, but the expression on her face tells you there’s a first time for everything.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Somi cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears. 

You nod understandably, telling Somi to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk. 

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had. 

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Jungkook. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Jungkook.

It’d been a few hours since you left Somi’s house; Jungkook had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke. 

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Jungkook has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Jungkook had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Somi staring back at you. “Somi? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Jungkook.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Somi into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Somi, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Jungkook after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

[vividxpages]

౨ৎ˚⟡.⭒˚no parents, big house⭒˚⟡˚౨ৎ

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 4400

summary: with his family out of the house for one night, Jacaerys and you decide to make the most of it.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, wine drinking, they’re both just really in love with each other, smut (making out, dry humping)

a/n: This is my first time writing smut for Jacaerys, I hope you like it, let’s get through this big hiatus and be good to each other! <3

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤍🍕💋୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you rang the doorbell of the Targaryen-Strong household, you could already hear screeching coming from behind the door.

Smiling to yourself, you shifted on your feet, the staple of pizza cartons in your hand warm on your palm. A bag hung over your shoulder and excited shivers ran through you at the prospect of spending the entire night over at Jace’s place.

Your boyfriend’s mother and her husband had decided to go out tonight, a rather rare occurrence with multiple boys under their roof and Jace and you had decided to make the most of it. Privacy often was an unknown word here and to both Jace’s and your embarrassment, the two had been caught making out on his bed (in various states of undressing) by his siblings enough times already.

Tonight though, there had been a compromise.

Jace was allowed to spend the night with you, but only if Lucerys took the others to see a movie tonight and the brothers were in charge of making dinner for everyone beforehand. Jacaerys had agreed in a heartbeat and butterflies had taken wing in your stomach when he texted you the plan later, accompanied by three red hearts.

Although Jace was a decent cook – you could confirm this, talking from experience – the pizza had been your idea. And if Jace’s brothers did not love you enough already, the door opened and you and the stacks of pizza were greeted with shouting and frantic hugs before these whirlwinds of dark curly hair disappeared down the hallway in excited chatter and you stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Hi.” You smiled brightly as he quickly took your important delivery from you.

“Hi.” He breathed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as always when you two shared a moment. He was wearing his favorite pair of gray joggers and a white shirt, his hair adorably put back in a bun that had you staring at him, utterly in love and anticipating your stay in his home tonight.

Behind his back, a sudden scream could be heard and a pillow flew through the air. You grimaced at the chaos seemingly going on in the living room and your boyfriend’s nostrils flared in annoyance as he threw a stern look over his shoulder.

“I swear they were behaving before; I think we had too many sugar cookies earlier.” He sighed, stepping aside to let you in, his hands subconsciously finding your waist on its own. You leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, inhaling the delicious smell of his cologne.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your mom.” You joked. You two quickly closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to suspect someone was getting murdered in here.

He chuckled. “Lucky me then.” Into the vague direction of the living room down the hall, he ordered: “Guys, be quiet or we’re going to eat all this pizza by ourselves and I tell mom you’ve terrorized me and Luke all evening.”

This threat brought silence to the house and you snorted.

“Always works.” He told you before grabbing your hand and leading you to the massive living room, big panorama windows offering a look into the garden of the property. Luke was waving at you from the kitchen, his smile still a little sour since he had to take care of their smaller brothers for tonight, as he prepared plates for everyone.

The twins, now relatively calm and obedient, sat side by side on the couch, smiling brightly at you. You dropped your bag by the staircase, kneeling in front of them and ruffling their light hair. “Hey, you two. Jace told me you’re watching a movie tonight?”

Jacaerys adoringly smiled at you as you talked to his baby brothers, his heart melting as always when he could see how well you were getting along with his family. You had been over enough times to earn yourself a permanent spot in the hearts of all his family members and it fulfilled him deeply to know you were his and you belonged with them just as you belonged with him.

Soon, his family was going to go on vacation and last week, his mother had told him she would be delighted to have you there with them as well. He could’ve cried with happiness and the two of you certainly had celebrated, in your own way.

But tonight, he couldn’t wait to play house with you, only for a little while until you were going to move in with each other one day.

“Thank you for the pizza.” Luke mumbled through his bites and you waved it off, leaning into Jace’s side as the group all settled down on the big couch in the middle of the room. You tugged your legs underneath you and sighed happily as you bit into your first piece, one of Jace’s hands that wasn’t occupied with his own slice resting on your naked thigh.

It had been hot outside tonight and you were still wearing shorts. While you listened to the twins’ stories and chatted with Luke, Jace began to slowly circle his thumb on your knee, the gesture as delicate as the brush of a feather. But it was enough to make you falter, all your nerves seeming to travel down to the small patch of skin being touched by him.

It was enough to distract you and yet, it wasn’t nearly enough.

But this sweet torture of his and inevitably, you giving in to it, had to wait for now.

“Want a slice of mine?” You asked him sweetly, offering him a piece of your pizza covered with cherry tomatoes, arugula and hearty cheese. He nodded, leaning forward and letting himself be fed by you. When you wiped a little blob of sauce from the corner of his lips, Luke had enough.

“Can’t you use your own hands, Jace?” He teased, a knowing grin on his mischievous face.

“Aren’t you supposed to leave to see the movie soon?” Jace shot back, unbothered and unashamed as you laughed and licked your finger clean, causing Joffrey to watch the two of you with a disgusted face. Once, when he still had been a little smaller, he had compared the two of you to his own parents because of the way you always gravitated towards each other, always touching when you could, but you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t regretting this comparison now.

Luke looked to the clock on the wall, startling. “Oh shit, we’re going to be late.”

“Oh shit.” The twins echoed and the two older brothers shared a look.

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you taught them this.” Jace declared nonchalantly and Luke groaned, taking his plate to the kitchen and telling everyone wanting to see Paw Patrol tonight to hurry up.

You chuckled, kissing Jace’s bony shoulder and standing up as well, taking his plate from him.

“No, no, I’m not letting you wash our dishes, you’re my guest tonight.” He protested and took them to the sink himself. You once again shivered at his words, the prospect of having the whole house to yourselves for a few hours more than enough to spark your wildest fantasies of him…

There was some hustling and bustling going on in the hallway as Jace and you worked together by the sink - a compromise because you always wanted to help - before Joffrey shouted a quick goodbye to you.

“Do you guys want ice cream?” Luke asked his brothers on their way out and Jace groaned, quickly shouting after them: “Don’t give them more sugar!” The door fell shut behind them and soon, you heard the engine of Jace’s car start.

“Don’t worry too much about them.” You told him softly, seeing the way Jace bit on his bottom lip, a common sign that he was overthinking. “They’ll be fine.”

“I know…” He took one of the plates you held up and dunked them into the full sink. “I’m very happy you’re here tonight. I was thinking about it all day.”

“Me too.” You whispered, suddenly short of breath. 

It wasn’t the first time you were sleeping over, but with a house full of people, indulging intimacy with your boyfriend was…difficult. Dinners were spent by the big table with his family and once you retreated into his room upstairs – sometimes after roasting marshmallows over the fire pit outside or playing board games with his competitive parents – the two of you were mostly too tired to stay up any longer. Jace shared a bathroom with Luke, so taking advantage of the luxurious big shower was too risky, and the walls were not as thick as you would’ve guessed for such a big mansion.

So, most of these nights ended cuddled together in his bed, sated and happy and tired, sleepily kissing each other in the darkness until you either fell asleep together or Jace would sneak his warm hands underneath his sleeping shirt on you, ghosting over your body until you’d eventually let out a needy whimper he had to cut off with a kiss or his hand. How often had you come around his skilled fingers, silencing your little moans and gasps in the crook of his neck or breathing them into his mouth? And how often had he softly bitten your neck or shoulder to stifle his moans while you sweetly jerked him to completion, giggling to yourself when he had to stagger out of bed shortly afterwards to find a tissue for your sticky hand?

“Is there something you’d like to do?” Jace asked you, ever so eager to make sure you were the most comfortable you could be. You thought of the sun chairs outside on the terrace and how lovely it was the stargaze together or the pool, its crystal-clear waters flickering seducingly. You thought of the shower, your gaze flickering down to Jace’s subtle but strong muscles, subconsciously licking your lips.

But you also had not seen him all week and you desperately wanted to relish the quietness of his home with him before everyone else came back later tonight.

You shrugged, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I just like to be with you. Maybe we can finish up here and watch a movie and cuddle?”

Jace wanted to melt at your innocent suggestion. “Sounds perfect to me. I’ll dry the plates; you grab us two glasses? Dad brought a fancy wine yesterday.”

You found the bottle in question quickly, your eyes widening at the fancy label around it. “I’m not sure if this is meant for us, Jacey. This is expensive-expensive.”

Jacaerys threw the towel over his shoulder, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to him. You had listened to the radio as you worked and an old school love song was echoing through the kitchen now, your boyfriend goofily swaying to the beat and wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll buy a new one first thing tomorrow. We can act like we’re adults tonight.”

“Jace, we are adults.” You laughed as he twirled you, your arms wrapping around his neck and fingers playing with the stray curls in his nape. You sloppily swayed to the beat, lost in each other’s eyes and smiles and you knew you were not ever going to love anyone else the way you loved Jacaerys. There wasn’t space for anyone else, because you were sure your whole heart only consisted of him.

Eventually, you filled – and emptied - those wine glasses and danced through the kitchen, your laughter echoing through the house, making it your home for the night. You exchanged some giddy kisses and his lips tasted like heavy wine and when you pulled back, his dark eyes laid hazily on you.

Your gaze flickered down to his mouth once more, the wine in your system making it hard to think.

After a moment, he swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

Neither of you had any idea how you managed to stick to the movie, but a little later, you found yourself on the couch, one leg thrown over Jace’s, your head safely nestled in the crook of his neck. Jace had dimmed down the lights of the living room and prepared a bowl of snacks for the two of you while you had changed into something more comfortable.

Now, it had gotten dark outside and the black void of the garden rested to your left while Jace rested his chin on your head, absently picking up some popcorn from time to time as you watched the movie. Earlier, you almost could’ve not hidden the mischievous grin on your face as you quickly snuck under the blankets on the couch, Jace’s back still turned to you. You had picked one of his soft shirts to wear and underneath it, which he had not noticed yet, you were only wearing panties. The lacy, soft pink ones he loved oh so very much.

Jace had returned to caress you mindlessly, his fingers wandering up and down your naked leg and the steady motion made your eyelids drop from time to time, a small yawn escaping you as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

Jace squirmed, not entirely unpleasant. “Hey…’m ticklish.”

“Sorry.” You breathed back, one of your hands finding a good spot on his toned stomach, the fabric separating your palm from his warm skin almost too much to bear. Like this, it went on for a while, both of you focusing less and less on the movie on the big flatscreen and more and more on the little touches you gifted to each other. Wanting, unspoken questions, disguised by innocent affections.

A while ago, he had turned a little, one of his clothed legs having found the perfect spot between your thighs, still held back by the fluffy blanket draped over you. But you were slowly having enough of useless fabrics between the two of you and Jace’s lean leg between you wasn’t exactly helping to ease the growing pull in your stomach.

You shuffled even closer and Jace tore his dark eyes away from the screen to look deeply into yours, his plush lips slightly agape as he watched you grind your hips forward, your hand drifting beneath his shirt to ghost over his skin. You felt the muscles in his stomach tense underneath your touch, his breath ghosting over your lips and when he finally dared to capture your mouth with his, you let out a relieved sigh.

Forgotten was the movie that had not interested you from the start as Jace blindly grabbed the bowl of snacks and moved it out the way. His hand drifted over your thigh as he delicately cupped your cheek, making your blood tingle underneath his soft touch, and finally snuck underneath the blanket.

You grinned against his lips, tilting your head to give him more access as a shaky sigh escaped him, his fingers trying to feel where the seam of your shorts began. Instead, his fingertips brushed over silk and lace and his mind short-circuited.

He pulled back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looked at you through them. Both of you were breathing hard, with flushed cheeks and arousal coursing through your veins. He looked at you like you were a miracle, not believing how he managed to end up with such a lovely creature. You pushed your thighs together as he slowly licked his lip, feeling already that your precious panties were going to be soaked very soon. And to think that he had not even gotten started…

“Jace…” You whispered, almost a whine as his thumb brushed over the lacy material, his pupils blown wide as he leaned forward and kissed your neck. You threw your head back, whimpering as his teeth dragged over a sensitive spot. “Please.”

He peeled away the blanket, letting it fall to the floor and looked down, your shirt messily pushed upward to reveal your tummy and the soft pink panties. You swore you could see the dragon in him, his family symbol just lingering underneath the surface. His knee was still resting between your thighs, not yet giving you what you craved so much. Your mouth watered as his darkened gaze landed on you again, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip. He whispered, his hoarse voice sending goosebumps through you; “You’re the most beautiful girl…god, you’re driving me insane with how much I want you.”

You exhaled shakily. “You got me.”  You nodded, trusting him with your whole being. You both had known how this night would’ve ended and yet, you could never prepare yourself for the intensity of your feelings for Jace. Your hand freed his hair from the scrunchie tied to it and you brushed through his soft curls.

“I love you.” Jace murmured and attached his lips to your neck once more, finally having some mercy on you as he pushed his knee forward and making you cry out. The rough fabric of his joggers pressed against your thin, wet panties, the delicious pressure making you weak in the knees. You threw your head back, your arms naturally resting around his neck as you pushed your chests together, sinking into the pillows behind you in bliss.

Jacaerys paced the rhythm, slowly grinding against you with his thigh, feeling your legs    quiver as little lightning shot through your core with each of his motions. Cuddling with him for so long had heightened all your senses, making it hard to concentrate as you pushed your hips forward, riding his thigh as he peppered kisses against your skin, drawing aside the shirt from your shoulder so he could leave a loving mark there, too.

With a particular enthusiastic buck forward, you made him hiss, your little whines and whimpers having made him rock-hard and straining against his own pants. You placed two fingers underneath his chin, drawing him up into a desperate and messy kiss and his hands on your waist tightened their hold.

“C’mere, baby.” He murmured into your mouth, his thigh still rubbing against your most sensitive part. “In my lap, up you go.”

You let yourself be hoisted up until your knees were placed on either side of his slim hips and you gasped into his mouth, your core now deliciously pressed against his length. He placed his shaking hand into your hair and your hands found purchase on his chest, helping him to take it off and throw it somewhere else.

You giggled, head spinning with pleasure as you were juggled around in his lap by him wriggling out of these damn joggers off, your laugh suddenly cut off when he bucked his hips up into yours, the outline of his dick fitting perfectly against you.

“Can I take this off?” Jace asked you breathless, playing with the hem of your shirt and you pecked his lips encouragingly.

“Yes, please.” You could feel his heart beating fast underneath your palm. “I might go insane if you don’t.” You bit your lip and Jace groaned, quickly nodding as he lifted your shirt over your heart and tugging you close against him so you wouldn’t be cold at first.

“Anything you want.” He mumbled, eyes glazed over with love as he looked at you, his fingers ghosting along the underside of your chest, his thumb soothingly touching one of your nipples. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and then, you did not talk anymore, driven by the growing need for each other now. You started to grind your hips forward again, hissing at how amazing the friction felt for now, the little gasp Jacaerys let out only encouraging you to continue like this.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to brush your hair back, caress your chest or guide your hips with them. You felt the mixture of the wine from earlier and the warmth in your core get to your head, the room around you spinning as you found another fantastic angle which made his clothed dick rub over your wet clit just right.

You let out a long-drawn moan, doubling your effort and leaning close to Jace so he could hear every little sound he lured from deep within your body. And in return, he made sure you heard him, his gasps soon turning into the sweet whines you loved so much. There was a wet patch on his briefs as you looked down and you had been a mess anyway and none of it mattered the slightest if he only continued to move you around in his lap like he did now.

“’m close…” You told him, brows scrunched together and eyes closed in pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him. Jace was watching your every movement, fascinated how someone as delicate and sweet as you could really belong to him, peppering kisses on your exposed chest and tugging you forward hard, back and forth on his dick, again and again, a thousand nerves in both your bodies alight.

“So perfect for me, so sweet…” He mumbled and your core clenched around nothing at his sugary affirmations. He kissed your cheek, your neck, over and over again, feeling as your grasp on control continued to slip. “Wanna see you come, my love, fuck- I love you so much…”

“Love you.” You whimpered, mouth a little o-shape, sweat on your forehead and Jace could not help himself, he needed to feel you.

His hand disappeared in your panties, one of his fingers finding your achingly hot clit as the other gathered up your wetness. You keened loudly, doubling over in sweet and utter defeat, immediately caught by his arms and held against his chest. You could’ve sobbed with pleasure as he rubbed one, two, three circles on your clit and then you exploded into a million stars, shattering into stardust right in his safe embrace.

Your orgasm tore through you like a crashing wave and Jace held you through it, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, groaning deeply from his chest as he felt himself spill into his underwear, the friction and your sweet sounds too much for his system. You still rode him and his soaked fingers, chasing the high he had gifted you, his fingers continuing to guide you through it all, only slowing their efforts when he felt you twitch with little aftershocks and overstimulation.

Your body slumped against his, breathing heavy and hot as you let out a satisfied smile.

He kissed your temple, hugging you close and closing his eyes as your heart beats slowly calmed down again until they were almost beating as one. You let yourself be held by him, tiredly drawing little hearts on his chest and smiling happily as he kissed your cheek.

“Feeling good?” He asked quietly and brushed back your sweaty hair.

You lifted your head, nodding timidly as you kissed his freckled nose. “Amazing. And you?”

“Perfect.” He smiled blissfully and when you shifted to get more comfortable, both of you grimaced at the sticky feeling. “We made quite a mess, huh?”

Your eyes widened and you hid your face in his neck. “Oh god, do you think anyone will notice?” Suddenly you could not believe you both had let this get so far, in the living room of his family as well-

“Nah, everyone won’t be home for another couple of hours and we can air out the room through the terrace doors.” His eyes sparkled as they looked you over, tucked against him, perfect in every way. “We’ll clean up here and go up to my room to clean you up, okay? Does that sound good?”

“And we’ll cuddle?” You wanted to know, a safe and sacred part of your soul only coming to show itself when Jacaerys was taking care of you like this. To know he knew what you needed and to simply let yourself be led by him made your mind blissfully empty yet full of love and adoration for your boyfriend.

“Yes, love, of course we’ll cuddle.” He pecked your cheek and helped you stand up. (But then again, this whole thing had started out by simply cuddling too, didn’t it?) When you lifted your arms obediently, he slid his shirt back on you and collected his own from the floor, arranging the pillows neatly and folding the blanket like nothing inappropriate had ever happened here.

You laughed as you tried to walk on wobbly legs, only to be scooped up by Jace before you could even reach the staircase. “I think we ruined your favorite underwear.” You whispered into his ear and he blushed madly.

“You can wear one of my boxer shorts if you want.” He offered and you nodded quickly, always a little thief when it came to his clothing. He carried you upstairs, mindful so your legs wouldn’t bump into anything, and gently set you down on his bed once you reached it, kissing your forehead one more time before he rummaged through his closet and found you something to sleep in.

It was ridiculous how happy you felt, how unbelievably in love you were with Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong. You watched him with soft eyes, nearly melting when he cleaned you up with a warm washcloth first, then helped you dress and slid into his twin size bed with you in his arms.

You kissed his smooth jaw, getting comfortable in the familiar safety surrounding you. His fingers were stroking up and down your spine in an easy rhythm.

“I think I’m going to give your brothers gift cards for the cinema for their birthdays.” You mumbled sleepily against him and he laughed, the sound like bells in your ears. 

With it, you drifted off into a wonderful, dreamless sleep and he followed you soon after…

When Rhaenyra came back later that night, finding her sons passed out in their beds, she couldn’t help but peek into her oldest’s room, finding the two of you sleeping peacefully and entwined with each other. 

In the morning over breakfast, she kept it to herself that the TV had still been running and you two had left the terrace door open…

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @earth4angels @princessvelaryon

If you would like to be tagged for Part 2, let me know with a comment <3

[cupofwyn]

may i have this dance?⠀( l.jn )

pairing יִ،⠀lee jeno!prince × fem!reader

genre/s יִ،⠀fluff. a tinge of comedy. bridgerton period. royalty!AU. rofan.

warning/s יִ،⠀profanity. little to inaccurate representations of the regency era. being chased. overpraising of jeno's beauty (not guilty).

wc יִ،⠀10.3k

a/n יִ،⠀i might have underestimated the word count—i thought it was going to be short for a oneshot but oh well. THANK YOU FOR THE LONG AWAITED ANTICIPATION. i honestly couldn't have done it without you guys. if u liked it, i'd like to hear your thoughts about it thru reblog, comments, or even an ask! tyvm for waiting <(_ _)>

synopsis יִ،⠀it was all self-inflicted pressure when the spotlight finally turned to you as the final member of the family to experience a love story—the miracle that has been passed down from your parents down to your siblings and the privilege of love in marriage that has been jealoused upon the ton of high society. though the world might have run out of love stories available for you when your family took it all to their delight, or so you thought.

IT'S DAUNTING TO BE IN THIS SCENERY. The mere presence of the most extravagant things seen by spectators of this ballroom and the contrasting sentiments you had within it.

A rush of cold blood runs from your head down to your fidgeting fingers, though you can’t quite pick on your fingers like how you’d used to without gloves.

Everything here is tremendously uncomfortable.

After a few gentlemen who asked for your hand for a dance after conversations, to which you’ve escaped with excuses of going to the powder room, an imaginary friend calling you from afar, and many more lame reasons you could come up with, you’re back to the place where your mother left you a couple of songs ago.

All the sharp eyes that hid uncomfortable curiosity and the reoccurring implicit words that only let you converse about anything but yourself.

Inheritance and fascination about your family’s wealth and the sudden showers of compliments and two-faced flirting tactics—it was getting repetitive.

How could it be not known that the youngest daughter of the emperor's most influential and right-hand man and adviser was to debut in this season? Every man that you approached and conversed with would immediately recognize you and call your name before you even introduced yourself; the striking appearance of the marquess passed down to yours and feminized. No noble nor commoner could not recognize a child of the man whom the ruler of this kingdom entrusted and was well-endowed by every fertile land and mine.

Despite this, there was a more interesting mystic that involved not only your father but your whole family.

Love and marriage.

The oddest and rarest words that could be found together, as marriage is only ever seen as a necessity when a noble comes of age. Politics, business partnerships, and also harshly done to pay for debts, so there was no chance that marriage could turn into something romantic when it is established outside of those forms—yet bizarrely, your family is in a different light.

Your parents, the marquess, and marchioness were wed out of political convenience and yet ended up being the love match of their season, leading to their children being raised with it. Your first-born older sister’s husband might come off as someone who forcefully wed your sister to marriage but was wed out of love at first sight; your older brother with scandalous womanizer antics in the circle and yet is trying to bury the fact that his childhood friend from across our manor's street is slowly becoming the person of his desires and is oblivious that it is also reciprocated.

Love is contagious in this family, and you hate that it's a standard in your family to be wed out of it.

It is incredibly obnoxious. All you knew was that it was the oddest feeling you've seen from your family after seeing those subtle gestures of endearment they shared with their partners. There was always that softness and warmth in their eyes whenever they looked at their significant other despite them looking away.

How powerful is love that it makes a person pacify and willingly consign themselves for the other?

Perhaps you were the end of it.

Such a thing couldn't be held within a grasp of hand if you wanted it right this instance, but in every attempt for you to engage and entertain such thoughts with other gentlemen—something sparks different in their eyes.

Deceitment. They view you as a spectacle—the love that surrounded your family was their tool to win you over, and it terrifies you.

To achieve love, did it have to be this manipulative and hurtful?

Your expectations crashed down with every interaction you had with every man in this hall.

You were simply a target in their eyes.

The uncomfortable hunting gazes they shared with you and their presence alone induced such an invasive depth of cautiousness in you.

To be perceived without any control of the situation, far from the peaceful environment you had within your own confinements before you debuted. The tightness you endured from your corset is nothing more than what your chest and breathing had right now. With a frantic heartbeat and the cold pump of blood rushing into you, you don’t notice someone calling out for your attention.

“Dear?” A firm hand wrapped around your arms, and you jumped from the sudden contact until you recognized your mother's voice, disrupting the unconscious well in your eyes.

“Mama,” you replied.

“Are you feeling well? You've been here ever since I talked to the whole ton of this banquet. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Your mother rubbed your arms firmly.

“It's nothing, mama. Just the nerves.” you returned.

“So, how are things going? Have you enjoyed the evening with a charming gentleman, perhaps?” she told you with a teasing tone, beaming a smile at the view of dancing couples and the beautiful quartet's piece gracing the air.

She trusted that with your lively nature, you would talk to any gentleman without any push of encouragement from her, so she left you alone to fend for your own partner. With your pesky and womanizer antic of your brother, what would go wrong when you were left alone in your first debutante ball?

Alas, she forgot that you were a shut-in marquis’ daughter and that your brother is the exact reason why you can't continue to converse with any gentleman in this banquet. Violence and disgust were the only emotions you ever had with the opposite sex in the comforts of your own home, but to be faced with strangers and to be expected to converse well with them? Indeed, different emotions other than what you feel around your brother were reeling in—most of it anxiety.

“Oh, yes! The gentlemen are very charming and very pleasing to look at while I am dancing.” you strayed a forced laugh by the end in an unstable voice, and you coughed to clear it, now grinning to your mother's way in hopes that she'd not find you suspicious.

The marchioness heaved a joyous chuckle at herself as she looked at you proudly, wrapping her arms around yours to link it.

“I am so happy for you, dear.” she embraced you and pulled away as she looked at you adoringly, “If you're feeling more enthusiastic, I could interest you with other gentlemen—”

“How delightful!” An annoying pipsqueak cuts out mother and has snuck through you from the crowd of desperate and awestruck women frolicking at him, inducing you to roll your eyes at him—the rightful heir of the marquis-dom and your older brother, Haechan.

You were at the least thankful for his presence right now, as your mother could’ve suggested something preposterous if he didn’t interrupt.

He cheekily greeted you with a grin and bowed mockingly.

Those familiar eyes of deceit always brought a chill to your spine.

Don't tell me.

“Good evening, missus debutante. Still not up to the offer that this fine brother of yours will be your first name on your dance card?” The marchioness pinched his arms, and he winced, breaking his dashing persona as he woefully looked at your mother beside him.

“Haechan, have you no concern? Your sister is actually having the time of her life, enjoying the lining lords for her hand tonight while you have been out here, just making your chances with another set of women for you to play with.” Haechan rubbed his injured arm and formed a slight pout.

“What line of suit—” he did not finish as you immediately pinched his side, making him snap his head at you with bloodshot eyes.

“Make yourself useful and go out there. I have someone I want her to be introduced to.” your mother insisted.

“Mama, please. I don't want any of this bloody extravaganza,” you said through gritted teeth, and you likewise got a tug from your mother on your sides, her eyes wide openly glaring at you.

“Y/N! Language,” she whisper-shouted, and you mumbled an annoyed apology in return.

“I should tell you, Y/N,” Haechan spoke up, looking at you with mischief in his eyes, the corner of his mouth upturned.

“Don't you dare.” you mouthed at him.

“—A dance! A dance doesn’t really make them your definitive husband, dear sister.” he apathetically commented and crossed his arms, giving you a smug look.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. You could even feel your ears and nostrils shooting out warm air.

“That is true.” your mother replied. “Although it truly matters who you're dancing with at your debutante gala.” The marchioness starts, and you can shoot a look at her and sigh that she's even doing her sermons at this event. “It resembles the refined attitude and talents of a noble lady. In short, it defines their role in society. For example, your older sister’s husband, the Duke of Rogan. He might be considered the tyrant who mercilessly killed a thousand of the enemy’s army last year, but he is devilishly handsome. You wouldn’t want your sister to be looked upon as with plain rigid taste in marital circles because her first dance is with someone like, well—”

“Like Lord Hopworth.” Your brother continued.

“Hm. Yes, a gentleman with a love for his horses that he only smells of stables and dirt.” Your mother helplessly agrees and fans herself in shame, discussing such gossip circle topics with her children.

“Comparing sister’s husband to Lord Hopworth…they are both in different leagues, mother. I, on the other hand, have no issues whatsoever with the man's hobbies and his reputation in the marital circle. Still, he has already danced with all the women in his family during the past three marital seasons. Might a miracle of a chance would only appear if a distant cousin would appear out of thin air or if Y/N had the wits to ask him a dance.” Haechan chuckled to himself proudly, uttering from you a gasp.

Your brother has been testing your waters ever since he joined your company, and this growing annoyance soon turns into an outburst.

“Explains why women who danced with my unwed brother for three years are still not wed by now. You're just trying hard to hide the fact that you have feelings for your best friend.” you retorted back.

“Y/N! That's crude.” your mother criticizes your sudden remark.

Haechan's eyes grow open in every passing second, and his breathing stops. In a while, he snaps his head away, half-suppressing a snicker.

“Well, look who's talking. See, mother.” Haechan started, and you could feel your chest suddenly heavy.

“I heard from the gentlemen's circle that my dearest sister kept on escaping dance offers from several gentlemen, saying that she would make lousy excuses to reject their dance offers tacitly—!” he ended with a huff. Your mother was frozen on the spot. She finally lets go of your linked arms, looking at you with disbelief.

"Mama, I can explain."

“Is it true, Y/N?” She suddenly asks with a firm tone.

“I…” You’re left speechless. The disappointing truth of your dance affairs is now out in the open, revealed to your mother. At any moment, you’re almost about to be eaten up by guilt at your attitude, especially in your debut.

While rejecting dance offers is rude, the fact that you have dismissed a number of offers from gentlemen of this banquet and have been talked about in their circle was more destructive to your family’s reputation, but most importantly, your reputation.

“Yes, I admit it,” you admitted, your eyes lowering away from your mother.

“You should have just told me, dear. There's no need for you to lie about it.”

“If I would admit it, then I’ll only place you on the burden that I’m carrying. I—” you choked on your own voice, and your eyes grew well with tears.

“Mother, I have been only looked at as an object by all the men here. I tried my best to engage in a conversation, but all that I get are harsh eyes and insincere words, and I believe it is because they only see me for what I have—what our family has! Mama,” the last word strays like a plead, and you continue with choked tears.

“I’m sorry. I need to have fresh air.” You turned your heels away and left the front doors of the palace, leaving your familial company stunned.

“Y/N!” Your brother almost followed along but was stopped by your mother, her hand placed on his arms, and she shook her head.

“Leave your sister alone for now. She needs time to adjust.”

“But Mama, she was being rude!” Haechan grimaced.

“You have to understand that your sister must be faced with expectations not only from others but herself. She must have gone through so much when I left her.” The marchioness released a heavy sigh, burdened with guilt for having left you unattended.

“Oh, what have I done to her?” she brought her head down in defeat, and Haechan rubbed her arms for comfort, unable to speak anything and partly guilty of his behavior towards you.

“Check on her after a few minutes.” your mother pleaded, but it took a few minutes before he could respond.

“Alright.”

THE TEARS IN YOUR EYES FELL STRONGLY DOWN YOUR CHEEKS AS YOU LEFT THE SCENE. Your vision starts to get blurry, and you pursed your lips in hopes that these tears may come to a halt, but you know it isn’t that easy.

Humiliating. Pathetic. Your family has finally discovered your true intentions. You knew that the only people to blame were the men you interacted with and not yourself, but in the end, you were the one who was more affected by their treatment of you. Their simplistic perception of you as nothing but the daughter of a marquess that could bring them to their own prime and financial risings to the society, and it drove you mad.

You were furious about your status, yet, at the same time, conflicted that maybe you were a bit too sensitive and could not stand your guard.

But was it wrong to be hurt? That even with these privileges, you were viewed as nothing but that as soon as you left home.

Debuting into society wasn’t all what you thought it was. It isn’t romantic nor the slightest bit magical. It is war only disguised as something pleasurable with performative beauty in one place.

You desperately tried to hold back your weeping, hiding under the garden’s fountain, not the slightest care that your dress would be dirtied with the grass you laid on, clutching your chest to ease the heaviness. You thought that the fresh air and the silence of the outside gardens could appease, though now it is only the opposite. The vulnerability that you hid as much as you could only cease to hide and break down.

What a waste. That you were just crying in this beautiful scenery.

The serene lush of green and the silence of the night, flickers of stars shining bright in the night sky, bearing witness to the presence of a distraught lady sitting alone under the water fountain.

You look up to the night sky and wipe the falling tears with your arms, another set of tears only falling as you wipe your cheeks.

But there was no time to waste, you knew. You sniffed in all your snot, removing your gloves and disregarding it as it was moist from all the wiping, and let yourself calm down, hoping that there were no further moments that you’d cry again.

Don’t try being a coward this time, you demanded to yourself, quickly huffing out a breath as you slapped your cheeks.

There was no other choice but to go back inside and dance to any man that your eyes would first lay on—no matter their perception of you.

“Let's do this.”

However, a disruption comes.

A shuffle of running feet is suddenly getting louder by any minute closer to you, and you snappily bring your head to the source, seeing a young man with jet black hair and clothes with a ruby red suit running towards you, occasionally looking behind them as if being chased.

Only one thing and one matter came to mind when you saw that scene: To run.

You wasted no time, got up from the fountain's edge, and you hit your head on the edge. You hissed at the impact, slowly standing up as you clutched your head.

“Please!” A young man's voice called out, and it was from the gentleman running towards you. “Please, hide me.” he huffed.

Before you could run away from him, the man finally reached you and immediately hid behind the bushes near the fountain.

What...what was that?

You stood there with nothing in mind and confused about the sudden role given to you.

After a few seconds, another gentleman ran towards you, and this time, you were prepared to run away.

“My lady, halt! I only have a question to ask you.” he stops a few feet away from you and bends, his arms holding onto his knees as he catches his breath.

You stop in your tracks, obliging, and take two steps back.

He fixed himself and stood up straight, a foot tall from you. A refined man with rounded slit eyes and a timid demeanor stands before you, the same age, you guessed, as the man earlier, who is currently hiding in the bushes. He plastered a kind smile, eyes disappearing as he took his barnacle from his suit pocket.

The man cleared his voice and bowed down to greet you, and you do the same.

“Good evening, my lady. I am the son of the Viscount Huang. Renjun Huang, from the House of Capri. Pardon that I rashly made a bad impression on you during our first meeting.”

You greeted back a good evening, introducing yourself and your house, bowing again, and stood up, raising your chin slightly as you carefully asked. “What of I could assist you, Sir Huang?”

“There seems to be someone I am looking for but had run away, rather—” the viscount chuckled to himself and reiterated, “My company has left me alone.”

“Have you perhaps seen a young man with this stature,” he gestured inches above his height. “Wearing a red suit and has black hair?” he finished, and you froze at your spot.

His descriptions of the gentleman he was looking for were precisely like the man you saw speeding towards you, asking you to hide him from someone, which you presume is this person who introduced himself as the son of the House of Capri, Renjun Huang.

You thought deeply, trying to recall any memory from your social etiquette classes that made you memorize and recognize the names and history of each noble family in the kingdom before debuting, as it was essential to have one before entering society.

Viscount Huang from the House of Capri. Weren’t they a family of butlers who have served the imperial family from generation to generation?

"Hmm, a gentleman with that stature has a red suit and black hair?" he nodded at your question, and you wandered off, looking around as you faked an attempt to deeply think about his inquiry when you were actually in a dilemma on whose side you should pick.

Obviously, you had no relations with both gentlemen, and only a huge silence engulfed you as your own conscience measured the rightful decision in this situation.

You gulped and looked back at the man before you and immediately looked away as you saw the desperation and that hint of insanity in his eyes, vividly seeing those dark circles beneath them.

To which gentleman do you trust and help out?

“…I think,” you crossed your arms, rubbing your arms with your hands to appease you as you thought deeply of your choice. “I think I saw that man went that way.” you nervously pointed to your left where the gates leading to another part of the castle are.

The viscount mumbled to himself that he thought right and bowed his head to you. “Thank you, Miss Y/N. Have a good evening.” Sir Huang paused for a moment and smiled gently, adding. “I also hope you are feeling well, my lady.” and he ran in the direction you pointed.

And you were grateful for the sentiment that he shared with you; as short as it was, you felt that he was worried about you. Your eyes must be so swollen from the crying that you took no care to care about your appearance to anybody else. Now you felt guilty for deceiving him.

You waited until his figure disappeared from sight as he entered the castle, and you heaved out a big exhale you had unconsciously held earlier.

You should never be left unchaperoned in another social gathering, you decided.

Though, you can only wonder. Why was the son of a viscount, the son of the current imperial butler, so hung up on this person behind the bushes to the point of chasing him?

Oh, gosh.

You might have chosen a criminal.

A threat to the royal family, perhaps?

Speaking of the devil, the bush near the fountain rustled, and you turned slowly to the bushes, quickly seeking any sort of weapon you could find, and you saw a twig. You picked it up, bent it a little, swung it around to test its firmness, and finally decided that it was good for defense as it was durable.

It is better to have one or nothing, you thought.

You suspiciously walked near it, which is the most reckless thing to do right now, but the twig you held right now gave you that foolish, courageous act. That it could give you full defense against a possible criminal.

Then comes out the man from earlier, his broad back and his clean-cut hair in your view, startling you as your shoulders jump, causing you to clutch your chest and pacify your pounding heart.

“Thank heavens.” a deep voice unveils out of the mysterious man, and he sweeps the dirt and leaves on him, soon turning to you with a troubled face.

You swore you could feel your jaw getting loose as you froze in awe of the man before you.

Chiseled face made of strong facial bones, nose perfectly angled to a degree, lush pink lips of a distinguishable cupid's bow above it, and those long set of lashes, low as it veils his dark eyes, deep yet shining underneath the yellow dim lights of the nearby lamp post around us; it's almost like the porcelain statues and paintings of the imperial ancestors from the palace has come to life—the most significant artists and poets combined to forge imagery of a rightful muse to every medium and ink that praises a divine being.

And that mole, placed under his eyes.

His eyes stare back at you, only delving you to say.

“Wow.”

“Pardon?” The man raises his brow, his lips upturned to amusement.

Your cheeks get warm, and you immediately shake your hands in the air, correcting yourself. “I mean, wow—no, I mean,” you paused and thought deeply to yourself as you looked back at him with seriousness. “I'm afraid there are no present expressions to describe it.”

The man blinked, dumbfounded, and his cheekbones started to define, soon bursting into a fit of laughter at your reaction, holding his stomach as he bent down to laugh more.

The urge to be eaten by the ground was more tempting than ever in your point of existence. You lightly smacked your lips with your hand to punish yourself for your intrusive thoughts winning before you just by the presence of this captivating being.

He finished as he calmed down, ending it with a smile as he stood tall.

“Thank you. I've never been complimented with that expression before, at least not in a first meeting—wow.” The man snickered to himself, his eyes raised to the shape of a crescent moon, and you almost melted to your knees.

The imperial court should consider banning that charming smile; you finally kept the thought to yourself.

“I am deeply grateful for your kindness, miss. I would have understood if you had chosen Sir Huang instead of me since I am, after all, still a stranger to you.” he bowed to the highest degree, his upper body lowered straight as the ground, and you nervously assumed the same greeting, stunned with this deep gratitude.

You realize that this man is still a potential criminal, and you discreetly hide your weapon (a twig) behind you.

“Why were you chased by the viscount, my lord?” you backed off a few steps from the mysterious man as you stood before he did.

“Well, if I were speaking truthfully,” he whirred lowly, trying to find the right words to reason his circumstance. “I would have been forced to enter the ballroom to which I have been warily hiding from my chaperone—I don't want to go through this dancing propaganda, you see.”

“Oh,” you relaxed a little, the grip on your weapon (still a twig) becoming less firm. “I guess I understand.” you engaged.

“You do?”

“Do what?” you looked up at him cautiously, and he walked close to you.

“You also dislike this conviction behind the dancing and the desperation for marriage.” he reiterated, adamant sparkles of enthusiasm in his eyes, still not taking a hint of your obvious nervousness.

“I don't think we're meant to talk so freely about that.” you attempted to retreat from the topic, or moreover, from him, and the sparks were lost as he lowered his eyes and he finally stopped.

“Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.” The gentleman begged pardon, sincerity clear in his apology, and you notice it, bringing you to look at him and shaking your head.

“No! It's just that...” you hesitated. “I believe my opinions and criticisms of society, as a lady, would be frowned upon. That's why I responded that way.”

The young man looks at you and eases, assured that you are not opposed nor baffled by the conversation's topic.

“Well,” he looked around. “We are the only people present here, aren't we? You're free to tell me things without feeling drawn back, and I assure you that I intently outcast myself from society.”

“You have such grand privileges, my lord. I feel envious of that freedom.” you professed, smiling at him green-eyed, and he shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms as he looked far and sighed, sitting on the edge of the water fountain.

“It's not always thrilling. My siblings are wary of me because my father favors me more than they do. My father also insisted that I marry and take his stead immediately. With my escapades, I am never to be left alone again when I leave my chambers,” he shared.

He noticed the silence afterward and soon came to regret his actions again.

“I apologize. I may have overshared—”

“I also have a conflicting problem as you do, but more personal.” you also opened up, also sitting on the water fountain's edge, still keeping a good fair distance from him. “I am the youngest and the last of my family to come of age, and I feel like I am not suitable to be here. This dancing and its etiquettes.” you stopped.

He remains silent, eyes now focused on you and every meaning that is present on your face as you're looking away, noticing the tears welling in your eyes.

“If you know my family very well, then you could probably guess that I am very privileged and that everybody wants to get close to me.” you chuckled to yourself, looking down and bringing your hands in front of you, now fidgeting on the twig. “It's funny how I hate that kind of attention because that means I can easily make friends, but it's not genuine.”

The cold air breeze caved between you, and there remained silence. The man keenly waits for another word from you, but there is a look of hesitance present on yours, and before he opens his mouth to talk, you continue.

“I hate it. Everything there reminds me that I could be easily eaten up if I'm not careful, and I’m scared to take any dance offers that could possibly have a hidden motive.” you wept yet again, the warm tears now falling on your cold hands, and you wiped it away.

You say nothing. In your peripheral, you notice a white thing hanging in the air, and you look at it, seeing an extended arm from the stranger who is reassuringly smiling, handing you a handkerchief.

“Here.” the man said, and you hesitated, staring at the handkerchief.

“There's nothing on the handkerchief. I swear on my family's name. It's yours to take.” he reassured, and you felt found out from your cautiousness.

“Thank you.” you mumbled under your breath and accepted the handkerchief, wiping every tear and snot on your face.

You have never thought to receive such understanding from a stranger this evening or be listened to without any judgment and malice. This interaction is what you hoped to receive from all of the conversations of the past gentleman—to be simply heard.

The man secretly grins to himself, finding the scene endearing and relaxed as you were freely talking to him.

“...If it assures you, I experience the same thing as you do ever since I was aware of it.” he sympathized with you, and you looked up at him, finding him smiling though opposite from his eyes, pained as he looked at the sky.

“People looked at me and treated me kindly, but they secretly plot things behind me just to use me, using their closeness to me to satisfy their selfish desires or to raise their rankings. My parents were wed out of convenience just to make an heir, and ever since then, I have lived my life carefully—I rarely find people who I could lean on and depend on.”

“That's why I don't bother myself attending the dances or any party, and I just stay outside of it when I'm forced to attend one. I realized if I even find this occasion tempting to join, then I'll only add more unwanted attention to my life.” he ended, and there came again the silence, but now you're sharing eye contact.

It is comforting this silence you shared this time, pleasant and easy to bear, and you can't help but break in a smile, a stray tear coming down your cheek, and he chuckled, rubbing his nape timidly at this progression.

The mysterious man sitting far away from you had more depth now that you knew behind the charming and gleaming factors that there was vulnerability and the capability for sympathy.

Would it be too much to ask for more of him?

“Would you care to share some refreshments with me?” you confidently sat a bit closer.

“I—”

“Your Highness!” Before he could answer, a distant voice shouted, and both of you looked at the familiar figure, Sir Huang, running towards you.

“What did he say?” your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Sir Huang getting closer.

“Your High—”

“Not important.” he interrupted, now standing near you as he held out his hand. “I'm sorry, but we must run, my lady. Please take my hand.” you can't help but accept it, and the both of you dash away in the direction of the ballroom's entrance. You run behind him, completely confused by your necessary involvement with this escapade and threatened that you are also now being chased.

“What is happening, my lord!” You shouted at him.

“I know a secret passage to the ballroom. Just follow me.” he looked back at you and quickly glanced at the growing tired viscount running after us.

The evening wind was cold as it slapped across your body and created a mess out of your hair, your breathing slowly reminding you that you are not the athletic person to run away with a chasing situation and definitely not with the evening gown and shoes you are wearing. You might need to lie down on the cold floor after this inevitably.

On the other hand, the lord, who is still firmly holding your hand, drags you both to hide any block and bushes, and after puzzling the frantic Sir Huang, the both of you proceed to run, him noticeably slowing his pace to match yours from time to time.

You were starting to lose your breath, and the both of you were finally on the grounds of the outside gates of the ballroom.

“It's truly incredible how you're still not catching your breath, my lord, but may I remind you,” you inhaled in more air and wiped the sweat off your forehead while he was tensely looking for whatever he hoped to find. “I am simply not built for running. I don't even like running at all!”

He quietly shushed you, and you pursed your lips to refrain complaints from coming out of your mouth, and you noticed that he still hadn't let go of your hand.

You flushed from the continual contact, and he dragged you away from the gate, leading you to the right side of the building, where a door meant for the servants and the noticeable clinks of pans from the inside. He doesn't hesitate to open it and bring you inside quickly, walking past the servants who are startled by the sudden presence of nobles in the dirty kitchen.

“Where are we going?” Your knees still feel weak from running, and outside of the kitchen, there is a stairway that leads upstairs, to which each noble was not permitted to enter at all costs as the ballroom grounds and the gardens were the only places that one was to enter.

“We're not permitted to enter this place, my lord!” Your hand dragged him down as he stepped on one step of the staircase, and he looked at you with a glint of hurry in his eyes.

‘Would you rather be seen with me by the viscount or continue running away with me?” he probed, lowering his chin to look down at you at the end of the stairway.

“Look,” you paused to make a statement. “I don't know why I am running with you when this is not part of my concern. You can't possibly think that I would run away with someone I just met!” you exclaimed, wide-eyed as you looked at the unnamed lord, finding his suggestions reckless.

The man was stunned by your reaction, visibly hurt by you berating the connection you made after all of those conversations, and you can see it, the guilt of your outburst at him gnawing at you.

“I seem to have chosen the wrong words. My butler—” he sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “The son of the viscount rather has seen us together, and you would be the prime evidence and witness of my last presence in this event, which he would never let go of, my lady. So choose. Would you rather be with me and slowly part our ways or be seen with me by the viscount and hear rumors of us being alone and unchaperoned?” the man paused, looking intently at you as he waited for your response. You, who had nothing to say and were ashamed of your earlier response, just nodded and agreed.

“Alright.” The both of you then walked up the staircase, his grip on your hand still unceasing, and you're slowly becoming bothered by it.

“You can let go of my hand already, sir.” you said.

“Sorry.” he quickly let go as the two of you reached the second floor.

The surrounding frames of eerily familiar faces of royals on the walls urge you to avoid any eye contact with them, their faces now barely comfortable to stare and adore at, and the clanking of both of the soles of your shoes on the wooden platform floors, loud, awkward, filling up the silence that the both of you shared only heightens the apparent climactic end of this camaraderie you shared at the garden—your blunt take on how your meeting was simply empty.

You can't help but feel hurt that you haven't considered the sentimental and unexpected companionship with a man you helped for unknown reasons was the best part of this nightmarish marital circle.

The man was clearly hurt by your words earlier and he still inevitably did not leave you alone to be spotted unchaperoned alone with a man. He helped you and listened to you without you asking of him. Your response earlier was ungrateful, responding that you were bothered by it.

You bit your lips, clasping your hands in front of you as you walked behind him.

“My lord?” you called him, and he answered with a gentle hum, continuing to walk.

“I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss our meeting we had at the gardens.”

He stopped and looked back as he smiled reassuringly.

“There's no need for you to apologize, miss. I have inconvenienced you after all. Our meeting earlier was certainly unexpected and troubling for you, so I understand.” he turned back and continued to walk.

After a few walks, the muffled music from the ballroom slowly got louder. The ballroom was near your vicinity, and you tried to strike up a conversation.

“Are you still not interested in dancing, my lord?”

“Not really. I'm still not interested in being on the dance floor,” he responded shortly, and you take it as a sign not to continue, but he added after a second.

“After the past two seasons, my father is determined to marry me to any woman he'd find me dancing with,” he added, and you hummed thoughtfully.

“So this would be your third season in the marriage circle?” you asked him, and he nodded.

“Indeed.”

His answer made you think deeply, slowly coming up with crafted advice in your head. “Huh,” you responded as you came to a thought, and he looked back at you, puzzled.

“What do you mean by huh?"

“I think you’re missing the point here, my lord.” you slowly caught up to his pace. “If I were you, I'd be setting up a forged relationship with another noble lady just to keep off those kinds of intrusive parents, and then we'd keep the contract for a few years at the least,” you suggested with not much thought.

“Hmm, wait. But it would also not last that much—”

“...I see.” the man replied.

To your dismay, the person chasing you might have finally found out your presence, a set of running feet suddenly getting nearer, and your companion panicked, quickly moving both of you toward a nearby narrow corner, enough for both people to hide.

“Hide in that corner quickly.” He placed you in the corner and helped to hide you, but he didn't bother to hide with you.

“My lord, you should also hide.” you caught his arm and nudged him to where you were hiding too.

“My lady.” he suddenly said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Yes?” you replied carefully.

“May I ask for your hand for the next song?”

“What?” you almost shouted out, and he just grinned.

“Your advice was brilliant.” he complimented, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I'm saying I would like to make an alliance with you. I'll ask for your hand, and you'll be the center of attention by tonight's party.”

“But wouldn't that risk me being your prospect partner?”

“Unless you'd be proposed to by a ton of suitors by the next morning, there'll be no chance of me winning, and there would be a delay in their enforcement of me to get married. Wouldn't it also be romantic to be asked by many men after dancing with a fine bachelor like me?” he joked by the end, and you scowled in reaction.

“I am not so certain with your plan, my lord. You, who I realized I am not aware of your name yet, and the noble family you belong to wouldn't possibly cause that much ruckus. Unless you are one of the royal princes, then that would make a lot of difference.” he evidently feels startled by your suggestion, and he shakes his head in denial.

“What? No—! Pfft. Why would you assume so?” he waved his hands in the air and continued. “But still, I'll make sure that I will help you feel less burdened with your situation. It's a win-win situation for both of us. At least for a while, when you don't pick me.”

“And how are you so sure I wouldn't pick you?” you answered quite quickly, and the young lord was startled, and so were you by your boldness.

The two of you spend a few seconds just staring at each other, and he breaks eye contact, looking away as he clears his voice.

“My lord, please,” Sir Huang coughed. “Please show yourself! I can't do this any longer!” he complained.

“What's your answer, my lady?” the man before you finally asked, holding out his hand, and you paused for a while, still a bit embarrassed.

Your act of boldness was unexpected of you. That plan you proposed was just a way to converse with him, but it made you look interested in your newfound companion. You just hoped that it wouldn't make both of you awkward, but that doesn't seem to be the case, as he was still willing to do it with you.

This alliance would be all in your favor. You'll finally show your mother that you have enjoyed tonight's party and won't place any more worry on her, but why would he assume you would want more men by the next morning? You don't want any flock of men by the next morning. You didn't like that he said that.

“I'm in.” you agreed and accepted his hand to shake. “This better work, sir?”

There's nothing wrong with accepting it either way, is it?

“Jeno.” He joined your hands and firmly made a handshake. “Call me Lord Jeno, my lady.”

Sir Huang still complains about his missing companion, Lord Jeno. His sneaking footsteps become louder, and Sir Jeno hid you properly for once.

“I'll show myself to the viscount, and you wait for a while until we leave. I'll see you downstairs.”

Then he left.

THIS ALLIANCE. THIS PLAN. You could immediately feel that you might soon regret agreeing to that ridiculous suggestion you made with that man. It was rebellious and certainly not fitting for someone who just entered the society. The man you agreed with has been in the season for three years, and you're barely keeping up with this hectic day a noble lady could have for just coming of age.

You waited a while after you heard no mumbling noises in the hallway and slowly got up, holding on to the wall as your knees weakened from all the running and the brief relaxation your legs had to take. You grunted as you fixed and swept your skirt clean, fixed your hair in place to a nearby mirror, peeked a little from the corners to investigate your surroundings, and left as you determined the place clear.

The music from the ballroom comes to a halt, the quartet resting for another set of music for tonight, and you start to get nervous as you encounter the stairway leading down to the ballroom.

You grumbled to yourself as you descended the stairs, questioning your actions and wondering about the identity of the mysterious man who finally introduced himself as Lord Jeno.

Everything about him exuded aristocracy, so you had no doubt that he was a noble and definitely wasn’t a criminal. But what was the deal of the son of a viscount chasing him like hunting prey? The son of the viscount whose family are butlers of the imperial family?

You almost scratched your head in this situation you've put yourself in. While you were grateful for the unexpected companionship you made with a handsome gentleman tonight, you had just dragged yourself into another complex obstacle you have never faced. More worse than arguing with your mother about your lying.

Who was Lord Jeno?

The ballroom doors swung open, and the gleaming yellow lights of the ballroom soon entered your vision. You stepped down to the final step of the staircase, near the refreshments where the people took their rest after a dance—and you attracted too much attention.

They must’ve heard your issue with accepting a number of dance offers from the noblemen, and you were gone by the following few songs when you conversed with the family you brought tonight.

People in society are quick to judge anyone who acts differently from the must-followed social etiquette you discovered. They're quick to spread words, to create a transparent wall they could ridicule anyone who is not doing the norms.

You couldn't bear but notice and catch all of the glances, and the whispered conversations shamelessly out loud in front of you, and your eyes desperately searched the room, looking for familiarity, looking for a place you could very much hide.

“Y/N!” you snapped and looked in the direction of the voice to see your brother walking towards you grumpily.

“I thought that you were outside, and I came out looking for you only to find you nowhere! Where have you been!” Haechan nagged, placing his hands on his hips as he exasperated an annoyed groan.

You looked down in defeat, not having the energy to fight back like what you usually do with him, not in this place. You could only give them another thing to talk about.

“I'm sorry I made you worried.” Haechan's gaze towards you softened, with the hands on his hips soon placed in his pockets.

Seeing you in a state where your usual reaction was to fight back was unusual for Haechan, and instead of anger and frustration, his emotions subsided into pure concern for you.

“Hey, I'm very sorry earlier. I shouldn't have told mother about your situation. It wasn't my right to do so.” Your brother apologized, and you looked up at him to see him with sympathizing eyes. You smiled knowingly, slowly turning into chuckles.

“You don't look good acting kind.” you teased, and he gently nudged you in response, shrugging off your comment.

“Shut up.” he irked and crossed his arms as he smiled by the end after the two of you shared a laugh.

“Say, brother," you said.

“Yes?” he replied.

“If a person was ever chased by a son of a butler, a known imperial butler to be exact, what does that mean for the person chased?” you asked hesitatingly.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” your immediate reply only brings him to suspicion by your sudden behavior.

“Y/N,” he started. “What did you do this time?”

You avoid eye contact with him as you start to fidget, your heart beating anxiously as you count as the seconds that pass by, observing how the musicians slowly approach their instruments and flip their music sheets on a standee.

“A man was chased by the son of Viscount Huang.” you gulped, and Haechan remained silent, pausing to come up with an appropriate question as he observed your frozen figure.

“And?” he asked.

“I made an alliance with said man.”

“Y/N,” he said with gritted teeth as he sighed in defeat. “What have you done!”

“I know, and I have my suspicions too! Alright! But I swear the person has only given me infinite kindness from the beginning…If you exclude the part that I helped in hiding him from the son of the royal butler.”

“Sweet heavens.” he places his palm on his forehead, shaking his head in distress.

“All we agreed was to have one dance, and that's it! I promise there's nothing more than what we have agreed. But listen, this man,” you stopped, looking around you, and got nearer to him as you whispered. “We might be talking about the kingdom’s prince here.” you reasoned with him, and he thought about it, looking at you still for you to continue.

“That’s ridiculous,” he commented. “There’s no way a prince would be asking you out.”

You gasped and hit him on his arm. “You know insulting me is also insulting our parents and yourself too.”

“I had my doubts.” Haechan joked, and you hit him again, earning from him a ‘hey!’.

“You have to take this seriously. This man has been acting suspiciously from the start. Look. He was chased by what I presume, his butler. I heard quite faintly a ‘Your Highness!’ when we were chased down by his butler, and he…” You looked at him, dead in the eyes. “Was a terrible liar. He had quite a violent reaction when I suspected him to be one of the princes.”

“You know, the youngest prince was supposed to debut on my season, but he hasn’t shown up ever since. No one knows his face or name.” Haechan whispered back at you.

“And when did you enter high society again?”

“This is my third, so the past two seasons ago.”

“Oh, dear,” you said as you stared at the ground from your realization. “Where is mother—”

“Lady Y/N.” An ardent voice called you from behind, and you looked behind you, and you saw your expected person.

“Lord Jeno?” you uttered his name, and upon release, the weight of the atmosphere became heavier with his simple presence alone.

And everyone notices. The notable stranger, who was never seen through the night until now, approached the debutante rumored upon and best known to reject several dance offers curtly.

“Y/N?” Haechan asked, staring at Lord Jeno.

Jeno notices your brother and bows, greeting him.

“Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening…” Haechan wandered off, and you were wearing the same expression as he did. Bewildered. Intimidated. Awestrucked.

Shushed conversations and murmuring circles surround the both of you, but despite this, the lord in front of you is composed, poised straight, a firm hand holding out to ask for yours and the other behind him—too firm and frozen you notice. His hand shakes, and so do his eyes, looking at yours as he awkwardly smiles.

“Will you have this dance with me, Lady Y/N?” Lord Jeno asked hesitantly, and you gulped, offering out your hand to touch his, barely placed on his palms as you felt that if you touched his hands again, you’d taint him.

"Yes…my lord," you lately answered the last, not knowing how to address him. He breathed out a sigh of relief, too nervous as if there was a never-agreed-upon alliance behind this.

Shouldn’t you be the nervous one here?

Jeno leads you to the dance floor, and he is still stiff. The pressure of the many eyes is troubling him, especially since, out of his three seasons, he is officially marking an entrance into high society.

Everything he avoided was present in this banquet. Crowds and circles of people and their eyes—free to perceive him as a subject of talk.

He can barely breathe in air, overwhelmed by consciousness by the piercing stares now placed upon him, unaware of you calling out to him, and you tugged him down only to startle him, finally looking at you with anxious eyes.

You gestured for him to bend down, and he followed, whispering in his ears as if he were down at your height. “Are you not feeling well, my lord?”

The ticklish air on his ears from yours gives a ginger warmth to his ears, seconds late to answer you with a simple nod and smile, and you squeeze your clasped hands with him, giving him a feat of courage with your eyes. His heart flutters at this small gesture, the nearness of you making him feel warm but when he looks into your eyes, he notices a glint of something more to it.

Your eyes only show curiosity—more like suspicion.

“My lady, is there something you want to say to me?” Jeno asked, and the glint vanished as you shook your head.

“No. It’s nothing.” But nothing always had something.

You might already have guessed it, but you’re just keeping it to yourself.

The both of you finally take the dance floor. Jeno holds your hand and places the other one on your hips, and you place your free hand on his arm nervously. The quarter starts with the bass, plucking it, and the violin strung after, a cheery tune playing into the dance floor, positioning you both in a waltz.

There is a noticeable space that is around the both of you and Jeno notices it, giving you a sign about it.

“We're like a deadly disease on this dance floor.” Jeno joked, and you looked around you and chuckled along, too occupied by your reoccurring thought.

You reflected on the times when you interacted with him and thought deeply about the things you did ungraciously in front of him.

Well, you complained to him. Talked back at him. Held his hand. You also wiped your snot and tears on his handkerchief—a handkerchief that could possibly cost more than what a normal handkerchief is. After all, he is the prince.

Could be the prince, for now.

“Lady Y/N? What’s the problem? You’ve been staring at the air for quite a moment now. Is there any way I could help?” Jeno asked, concerned.

You don’t respond for a few seconds. “Lord Jeno.”

“Yes, my lady?” he replied lowly. Your mind only drives chaos at his tender reply.

“Are you really not one of the princes?” you ended, and his face tensed at your question.

“If I said yes…” he paused, his face softened, eyebrows brought together as he looked back at you hesitantly. “Will you avoid me too?”

Your heart dropped. Hearing him say ‘too’, only made you realize about his past situations that pained him and made you think about yourself. The memories of your interaction with him came crashing into you as you realized that you were acting and thinking the same as what he told you about the people who interacted with him. And he has probably felt lonely his whole life with this.

But with you, he felt seen and understood—just like what you felt about him too.

“No.” you immediately answered this time. “I won’t, my lord.”

Jeno doesn’t respond, only looking at you bewildered, and he smiles cheek to cheek, reassured by your sincerity.

The next dance segment pulled you near him as the strings modulated and came to a halt. He puts his face close to you slowly, moving his face on the side of your face as he whispers in your ears, the proximity of the both of you close—too close.

“That’s a relief.” you touch your ear as he pulls his face away. “I’m so glad it’s you that I met.” he said, still brimming with joy, unaware of the effect he had on you with that action.

The warmth of Jeno’s whispers remains for a while, and it’s ticklish, and for a moment, you forget the crowd watching you both, unaware of the stir that caused that simple action that took you off course too. The words he has spoken echoed through you, filling you with confusion and butterflies.

The music swells in, and Jeno gracefully leads you across the dance floor; the room is out of focus, other dancers and onlookers fading in the background as you only look at the man you’re dancing with—moving in perfect harmony.

There remains an unbroken eye contact, silence, and the strings from the instruments swarming between the both of you in glee rendition. Looking directly at a prince, you should be nervous and uncomfortable, but none of that is present in your mind. What you saw at the moment wasn’t the prince.

It was Jeno. The mysterious man that you helped and approached recklessly. The man who listened to your story with no prejudice. The man who offered his hand out to you when you were stuck in your own thoughts.

The friend you made out of this treacherous night.

As you continued to dance, you tried your best to gather yourself. You might not have heard him say yes to your question yet, but you can only wonder what it means for your future—what exactly would happen after this alliance was done and gone?

“Lord Jeno,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“Or should I say, Prince Jeno?” you asked carefully, and he chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, Lady Y/N?”

“It feels weird addressing you like this. It’s like I’m speaking casually, but I’m actually formally treating you.” you commented, and he laughed at this.

“You’re the only one who I hear calling me in that way. Even if you’re already properly addressing me,” he replied. “I much more prefer it.”

He’s doing that again. Commenting so easily about things that make you feel weak on your knees.

How can he be so oblivious about it?

“What were you going to tell me?” he asked, bringing you back to your question.

“I was about to ask about our alliance.” you finished, and he looked at you anticipatingly.

“Yes?”

“What would happen after this?” and the question comes out.

You already knew the answer to this since you had already talked about it with him. The advantage you’d have after it is his succession in making his own parents, the king, and queen, less nosy on him and going in your own peaceful ways. Though, you want to hear a different answer from him this time.

Despite everything already clear as day, you want to know what runs in his mind.

Where would this lead to?

Jeno thinks about it too.

Too hardly.

“How would you want things to happen?”

The question remains in the air and the music becomes less louder in your ears.

“I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to wake up the next morning and be filled with other men asking for my hand.” you answered.

Oh.

Jeno remembered he said that. He thought about the moment he said that and soon came to regret when he suggested that as a situation that was sure to happen and not as a joke, not when you told him what you did at that moment.

“You?” you asked, almost like a plead, yearning to hear something different than what you were negatively thinking he would answer right now.

“Me too.”

His words remained ceaseless as they left right through him, the simple words underscored by the weight they carried. The dance continues, and your mind is racing, your heart thumping loudly as if to break through your chest.

Was it really possible that Jeno, the man you stumbled upon in such a bizarre way, felt the same wave of uncertainty about the future ahead of you as you did?

You studied his face as you slowly moved across the dance floor as the final segment came near. His expression remained calm and, when you hardly look, vulnerable.

As the music began to slow down, signaling the end of the dance, Jeno’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if he too, was reluctant for this moment to end. The quartet played the final notes, and you both came to a gentle stop, facing each other; the contact pulled away for the final bow. Applause erupted around you, but it felt distant.

After bowing, the both of you hesitantly leave the dance floor but this time, Jeno wasn’t the slightest nervous about the eyes that still remained on the two of you. Rather, he felt more clear about his thoughts and what he wanted more than what he desired in his life.

“Lady Y/N.” Jeno began, his voice low and earnest. “I do not wish to make you feel more uncertain for what is ahead of us after this alliance we made.”

Your heart skips a beat. “I do not understand, my lord.”

“If the morning comes tomorrow and you are filled with letters that ask for your presence, do not read anything that doesn’t have the mark of my family’s crest. The answer to your question you asked me when I told you about the alliance,” he paused as he smiled softly. “I hope that you are certain to choose me, my lady, as I am certain to pursue you in the future and the moment that we step out of this dance floor.”

The sincerity that spoke through his eyes was unmistakable, and you felt relieved and exhilarated. Your anxieties all vanish away in the face of his answers.

“Looks like I would only be expecting one person’s letter tomorrow.” you smiled at him and chuckled, looking at the ground as you felt timid before him.

The quartet plays another yet song, and the both of you are startled by the sudden start of instruments playing, making you look at each other and burst into laughter.

Jeno holds out his hand at you, and you tilt your head in confusion.

“What is it, Your Highness?” he snickered at the way you addressed him, the lining of his eyes prominent into a crescent shape.

“The imperial court should consider banning that smile. You’re too captivating.” This time, you let your intrusive thoughts reign, and you and Jeno laugh at your absurdity.

“Lady Y/N?” he asked, still holding out his hand and you hummed in response.

“May I have this dance?”

“Yes,” you accepted his hand. “Yes, Your Highness.”

taglist : @g4minelvr @thebubsz @fxckingshame @nosungluv @ajaaaaayyyyy @keemburley @firydust @crustipicklez-blog @daegalismybiasinnct @kunkunlele @minkyuncutie @jenosbiceps

© written by CUPOFWYN . 2024

[beefboyandbabygirl]

I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL (18+)

pairing: student!brother's bff!seokmin x student!good girl!reader

genre: college au, brother's best friend au, smut (MDNI), bit of crack, a small bit of angst but not nearly as much as most of my fics

description: when you head out for college, you incidentally end up at the one your bother's best friend has disappeared to 2 years prior. now, seokmin has promised your brother, vernon, to teach you and take care of you while you're away from home. unfortunately, it seems vernon should have been a bit more specific about what exactly seokmin was supposed to be teaching you.

warnings: vernon is ur overprotective brother, seokmin is not a dilf unfortunately, dirty talk, masturbation (male and female), fingering, slight restraint?, praise (f. receiving), pet names (good girl is so overused), teaching, innocence kink, corruption kink, oral (m. receiving), tiddie play, alcohol consumption, a bit of pining, shame on the readers part, she feels a bit like a slut for a moment, kinda brief mention of miscarriage? for like a metaphor lol, jeonghan is hot in this, giselle is ur bff and i almost gave up my mission and made this whole fic ab her shes so hot, ok i think thats it

quotes my creative director (@joshibambi): "just admit u wanna bang son", "o is for orgasm", "the urge to be the younger sibling for once"

wordcount: 15.9k

a/n: the way this fic took me years to write. i hav been busy :( thank u 2 every1 who liked girl code uve made my whole year :D hope u like this one 2!!

You preferred to remember Seokmin for how he was.

How he was small and young, how he had a swanky bowlcut and how he looked in his school uniform. How he and your big brother, Vernon, had bonded and watched movies together in your living room, and the countless dinners he’d stayed over for, always so respectful to your parents and you. He wasn’t your best friend, he was Vernon’s, and yet he made it so easy to feel comfortable, so easy to feel like you were the one he came over for. 

You crushed on him back then, wrote countless diary entries about him and his stupid, beautiful smile. But it had been so forbidden, you remembered feeling that, because of how Vernon had groaned at you to leave every time you peaked your head through the living room door, masking your insistent eyes on Seokmin with simply wanting to “watch a grown up movie”. Sighing, you’d turn back to your princess pink room, and the boundary - the Vernon shaped boundary - that stood between you and Seokmin grew farther.

It had almost been a relief when Seokmin left for college. That was the most terrible thing, the relief you felt while your brother was grieving the sudden separation with his best friend. But your heart simply couldn’t help but let out a long sigh - years of yearning for him when he was so close by. You felt that cool wash of repose when that border between you and him had disappeared from your view. Years of watching it, wondering whether to pad closer or turn away from it, became a distant memory. For two years you were almost a normal girl and a good baby sister. 

Then it was your turn to head off for college. The nearest, big college to you accepted your application and you still distinctly remember dinner with your parents and your brother, how’d they’d cheered and clinked glasses and looked at you adoringly, because you were growing up right before their eyes. Then under the faint light of the restaurant chandelier, your mom had said something that immediately sent you hurdling back to that old, distant boundary: “Maybe you’ll see Seokmin there!” 

How had you forgotten? You supposed in that time you’d let yourself be more taken with the relief. It was the thought that he would be gone that had distracted you from exactly where to. And there you were with all your moving plans and your packed backs, and your glass raised and frozen in the air and your eyes wide. 

Then came the reasoning: surely, you could avoid him? It was a big college, there were plenty of people. There was no logical reason you’d really have to see him. Except for Vernon, of course. Ever so oblivious, your brother had called up Seokmin to tell him the good news, and to tell him to take care of you and protect you. And Seokmin was so sweet, of course, he’d take care of his best friend’s baby sister. 

And there you were at college. All grown up.

In your defense, you had avoided him skillfully. You’d turned down his request to help you with unpacking, turned down his tour of the school (that you’d actually desperately needed - why is room 240 not with all the other 40’s?!), and most of all, you’d turned down every single message inviting you to a party. 

I guess to him that was a perk; partying with the older kids. He knew you after all. He knew that you were a quiet girl and you stayed within your neatly laid brick walls, and he knew you were shy, and he knew you needed help letting loose. He knew you were a good girl. 

Which is why it wasn’t surprising at all that you turned down his offers - wanting to stay focused on school. At least, that’s what you told him. Truth was even being in his vicinity had put you much closer to that boundary you’d never dared cross. You were afraid even just seeing him would send you hurdling back, like a leaf in the wind. So you didn’t go. 

For a while, at least. 

“This is, like, a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Giselle whined and you shook your head adamantly. “Absolutely not.” 

“Well, maybe not for you, but for me!” she argued. “I can’t believe you’re consistently being invited to parties with hot, sexy men, and you’re turning it down because of one guy!” 

You were currently sitting in the library with your roommate, Giselle, and you’d made the unfortunate mistake of telling her about your predicament after receiving yet another invitation to a party tomorrow. Giselle was throwing a temper tantrum because she had never ever had anything as ridiculous. 

You liked Giselle a lot. She was very different from you - she was hot. You weren’t - you were cute. Giselle held boys on leashes and made them do homework for her. She liked partying and sexy, black dresses. You were a fucking nerd, and cute was the highest compliment you had ever received for your looks. Even though you were different, Giselle had immediately taken a liking to you. You had initially feared she would think you were lame, but she was so nice - except for right now.

“Come on, Y/n, there are, like, no cute guys in our year!” she said pleadingly, clasping her hands together and pouting, but you shook your head.

“You don’t understand, Giselle,” you murmured solemnly, trying to regain your focus on the science textbook in front of you. 

“I understand perfectly well,” she said and you eyed her suspiciously. “I understand that you’re a bitch!” 

“Alright, that’s unnecessary,” you said, closing your book. You pinched the bridge of your nose, when she went on. “No, honestly, Y/n. You’re a virgin, right?” 

You snapped your head towards her in shock. Your eyes darted around frantically, before you leaned over the table to whisper to her: “How do you know that?” 

“Don’t embarrass yourself, honey,” she grinned, holding back laughter and you rolled your eyes, sighing. “And what about it, Giselle?” 

“How are you ever gonna get yourself out there if you’re constantly caught up on this guy and trying to keep away your feelings for him? You’ll stay a virgin forever, girl. You need to look him in the eyes and realize you’re above that childish crush!” 

You stayed quiet, slumped in on yourself with your book in your lap. Why was she making sense? 

You’d never thought about it that way. That your infatuation with your brother’s best friend was somehow holding you back from exploring and evolving as a woman. That maybe having him in the back of your mind every time you’d shyly made out with guys in high school, had been the thing that stopped you in your tracks. 

“I can see it on your face, you know I’m right,” Giselle smiled smugly from behind the screen of her laptop. “Unless you’re asexual. In that case, fierce, but if you’re not, like, get out there, queen. Sometimes you need to realize that you have to leave one dick for another dick because the other dick is so good.” 

You furrowed your brows. “Is.. Is this still about me?” 

“No,” Giselle shook her head.

“Okay, yeah, ‘cause- ‘cause that didn’t..”

“Yeah, I know. I was more so, uh, angling-”

“Right-”

“Angling the story to- to my current situation.”

“I get it, yep.” 

There was a moment of silence. You pursed your lips and looked at the message on your phone. Then you started typing.

“Are you telling him you’re coming with your super sexy, hot friend?” 

“Yes.” 

“Y/N, I LOVE YOU.” _____________________________

Regret was a nasty, old demon on your back and it had twisted and tugged at your guts, while you let Giselle get you party-ready. You’d sat on her bed, in her dress, and having her put her makeup on you, you’d sulked and tried to shrug off your back.

“You look so hot when you actually try,” she’d giggled, using a fluffy brush to spread the bake underneath your eyes.

“Thanks,” you’d mumbled, and she’d paused her movements, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” she’d asked, sitting back on her knees. You had sighed, reaching a hand up to run it through your hair, but pausing midway when you realized you would ruin the styling Giselle had worked so hard on. You lowered your hand again.

“I’m not sure about this,” you’d murmured and she frowned genuinely. “Y/n, I meant what I said. I know I talk a lot about boys and stuff, but you really shouldn’t let yourself be held back by him!” 

Before you could speak again, Giselle had tugged you off the floor to stand in front of her mirror. 

“Look at you,” she’d cooed, clapping your shoulders. “You look so pretty!” 

You’d smiled a little shyly, looking at your form in the mirror abashedly. You were pretty. Not cute, not nerdy; pretty. Curves hugged tight by a sleek, black dress from Giselle’s closet, this was a version of you that could actually see having sex - seducing men, gaining from her looks.

“I guess you’re right,” you’d said sheepishly, and Giselle had smiled sincerely and you’d let her take you to the party down the streets in a nearby frat house, and you’d almost not wavered when you stood right in front of it, music blasting out of every crevice. 

But then you were inside and he was right there. For the first time in two years, he was there, and he was so hot. He was wearing a white tee and a fucking silver chain, and, God, when did he start working out, because his arms were so big and so toned. And his hair was fluffy and dark brown, and his face was slim, and the tops of his cheekbones were shining under the kitchen lamp, where he was talking to some other guy, arm flexed, as he leaned against it on the counter. 

If there was one thing about Seokmin that had stayed the same it was that smile. He wore it now, laughing, as he talked to some blonde guy about something, and you wanted to scream because, there it was. The boundary, the ledge, the line, whatever, it was right before you again, right there with him. And all the feelings that came with it, your heart, wet and red in your throat, a brew of anxiety in your stomach. 

Without sparing even a second, you’d clasped onto Giselle’s wrist, tugging her into a herd of anonymous people, and just walking. Walking, walking, pulling her along (she countered only with a “hey!”) only for you to hit a wall or something, just as long as you were far, far away from him. 

“What the hell?” she said, when you finally stopped walking because you’d entered the living room, which was apparently more exclusive, as only a few people populated it, including a couple that was making out on the far end of the couch. 

“He was there,” you gasped dramatically, as if you’d seen a ghost. “I-I can’t do this, Giselle.” 

“Relax, babe, it’ll be fine. You’re away from him now, aren’t you?” Although she was trying to be supportive, you could tell she was growing a little tired of your theatrics. You couldn’t care less though, you were panting, and peering over her shoulder to see if he was somehow coming towards; and, God forbid, smile at you with that angel grin. 

Giselle followed your gaze and sighed, brows furrowing. “How about I get us some drinks? Then you can let loose a little.” 

You nodded absently, following her lead when she pulled you to sit down on the couch. You clambered to the couch rest, when she walked away, swaying her hips to the music. 

You might’ve looked different, but you were still you. The entire scene had you uncomfortable, and you were still the shy, unconfident and nerdy girl. You cursed yourself for letting Giselle’s reassurances fool you - you would never be this type of person, and you would surely never get over Seokmin. She’d been wrong about everything. 

“You okay, darling?” 

You jumped at the voice, eyes darting up to see who it was. 

You didn’t know him. He was handsome, though, but you’re not even sure you’d call it that. He was pretty, and he had long, black hair and big eyes and he was giving you this teasing smile, that was doing nothing to ease your nerves.

“I’m good,” you squeaked, gaze moving to a nearby pair of shoes in the corner of the room. You heard him chuckle, before he dropped into a squat before you. One lean hand came up to your knee, giving it a squeeze. “You just look so nervous, pretty,” he sat down an anonymous cup of liquor. “I don’t think I know you. Can you tell me your name?” 

The hand on your knee burned into you, thumb brushing back and forth over the skin and he was looking at you so intently, it had you sputtering. “Uhm, uh, Y/n.” 

His thumb froze. You looked over at him curiously to find this dumbfounded expression on his face, devious grin spreading on his pretty features. He chuckled and cleared his throat, face dropping down before he moved it back to look at you again. 

“You’re the girl Seokmin’s always inviting over here?” 

You nodded shyly and he smiled at you. “I’m Jeonghan.” 

“Hi.”

A pause. Jeonghan squeezed your thigh, watching in delight at the way you screwed your eyes shut. 

“You know, I just didn’t expect you to look like this,” he said finally and, sensing your confusion, he teasingly added: “The girl who’s always turning down parties to study.” 

You blush deepened, cheeks furiously rosy, as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap. “I borrowed my friend's clothes,” you breathed, pursing your lips. “Ah!” Jeonghan gently patted the top of your thigh, nodding along exaggeratedly, “You borrowed your friend’s clothes! I see!” 

He studied you while you giggled at his antics, still refusing to look him in the eye, really. He was almost suffocating, his hand on your thigh and his eyes boring into your face, and his cologne in a constant stream in and out of your nostrils. But suffocation, you decided, was almost better than being around Seokmin and having him parade his kind heart and his thick arms and his sweet smile, and just how off-limits he was. 

Ripping you from your thoughts, Jeonghan stood up, placing both hands on the tops of your thighs and bending down to your face, so his nose was buried in your cheek.

“Look at me, darling,” he whispered, then pulled his face away from yours, just enough so you could gaze into his brown eyes. His hands were much higher now, squeezing hard at the plush of your thighs, dangerously close to your center and only separated by the thin fabric of Giselle’s dress. 

“There she is,” Jeonghan smiled, voice a whisper. His lashes came over his eyes, when they flitted down to your lips. “Don’t you wanna come with me upstairs, and I can make you feel really, really goo-”

“JEONGHAN! GET OFF OF HER, THAT IS MY BEST FRIEND’S BABY SISTER!”

There’s a voice you know.

From across the room, Seokmin had burst through the mass of people, now power-posing with an extended finger in the direction of where Jeonghan was tilting over you, rubbing your thighs, as you sat innocently before him. 

Jeonghan stood up, taking all of his heat and his suffocation and cologne with him, groaning and throwing his head back. “Seokmin!” he whined and he was suddenly no longer so suave and seductive. 

“No, I won’t hear it, Jeonghan,” Seokmin said and, as much as you knew Seokmin to be sweet and tender and lovely, there was this crystal-clear anger in his voice. He walked over, one large hand pushing at Jeonghan. “Go get any other girl and sleep with her, just not her. Get your sorry ass out of here.” 

Apparently Jeonghan sensed the same thing you did - a rare anger in Seokmin - because he didn’t put up much of a fight at all, only smiled at you apologetically (and then, when he was behind Seokmin, gave you a small, devious wink - he just couldn’t help himself). 

You couldn’t focus much on Jeonghan at all though. Because Seokmin was standing in front of you, all muscle and huge fucking thighs by your head, and when you dared to tilt your gaze up to him, you saw how all that anger simply melted away. 

“Hey,” he breathed, smiling softly.

“Hey.” 

Then his eyes darkened, if only for a moment, as they traveled over your figure, gift-wrapped in that tight, black dress. His jaw clenched and he looked around for a moment. When he looked at you once more, he was giving you that smile - the one you’d fallen in love with - and the chocolate in his eyes was melting.

“Come on,” he ushered gently, one hand carefully guiding you off the couch. “Let’s go to my room where there aren’t any scary, evil, mean men.” 

Despite being so on edge, so jittery, as you followed him up some distant staircase, you couldn’t help but laugh at those words. He was talking exactly like he had when you were kids. That was how you preferred to remember him; all small and young and with a swanky bowl cut, and he’s the exact same way with you, hand warm in yours, as he guides you through the house. 

“Why’re you laughing?” he smiled, and you suppressed your own, trying not to dwell too much on how fast your heart was beating. “It’s just like before,” you quipped and Seokmin’s hand squeezed yours in understanding. 

He lumbered down the hallway and at its very end, preceded by rows of white oak doors, he opened his own with a twist and a turn of the brass-blend knob. When he closed it, the party became muffled around you, as if his room was filled with water, and now the rest of the world was a garbled mess, and you were drowning.

His room was clean. You supposed Seokmin had never been the messy type - not even when infected by the influence of Vernon. He had a half-open closet, where you spotted folded clothes, and a circle rug and purple and green lava-lamp plugged in on his nightstand. 

Seokmin apparently did not think it was clean enough, because he swooped down gallantly to grab a tossed sweater, smiling at you sheepishly when he held in between his fingers. You stared at him.

You felt like a kid again. Felt like just a young girl, creeping through the crack in the living room door, and looking at his silhouette, outlined by some grotesque horror movie playing on the TV. His sharp nose, when he turned to Vernon and laughed, his hair, all poofed and tousled and scruffy, and his smile. 

And you’d let yourself fall into this trap, maybe to some extent you’d even wanted it. Because now he was right in front of you, and so was that damned barrier, right by your outstretched fingertips, and you could almost envision yourself climbing over it - climbing into his lap and-

“I didn’t think you’d ever come,” Seokmin said gently, a permanent, small smile frozen on his lips. You coughed, unready. “Uh, yeah, my friend- my friend thought I should try and.. You know, get myself out there.” 

Seokmin studied you, bemused and fond, fiddling with the baby blue sweater in his hands. You were looking back cautiously, as if assessing a threat, but the threat was the sweetest, kindest boy in the whole wide world. 

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat suddenly, ripping his gaze from you to fold the sweater onto his desk chair. “I’m sorry about Jeonghan, he’s.. You shouldn’t, uh..” Now neatly folded, you saw him rubbing the sweater between his fingers. “You should stay away from him.” 

“Why?” you asked, and it was genuine enough that Seokmin let out a sigh. 

“You’re too much of a good girl to be with him. He’s no good.”

A whimper clawed its way up your throat, bubbled from the depths of your belly, but you tamed it and settled on a light hum. You felt your underwear becoming a little sticky, and you wanted to die, because God, this was your brother’s best friend. They still facetimed every Tuesday and still played Fortnite together over Discord every Saturday. 

“College going good?” Seokmin asked, retreating from the sweater to sit down on his bed. He looked up at you brightly and patted the spot next to him. It felt like another trap, where the folds in the blanket curved down under his weight, and would eventually lead you into him. You sat down hesitantly. 

“It’s okay,” you breathed, folding your hands and in your lap and tensing your shoulders. Seokmin, fully relaxed and slumped, noted your posture and slid his hand over the exposed skin of your back. “Hey,” he whispered, so intimate it hurt your heart, “hey, hey, relax, Y/n. It’s just me.” 

His eyes were soft and full of concern when he spoke quietly again, his voice almost a backdrop to the muffled sounds of dancing college students: “You know, Vernon was really concerned about how you would do away from home.” 

“I’m not doing bad!” you said quickly, dismissing it immediately. Seokmin stared at you. “I just- this isn’t really my scene.” 

His hand felt searing hot on your back, where it slid up and down, almost coaxing you further into him. He hummed. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” 

Then: “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to come. Just figured you might want that street cred of being friends with the upperclassmen.”

You snorted and, cheeks rosy as ever, started giggling, eyes still cemented to the floor. Your hair was falling gently over your face, wisps of baby hair tickling your forehead. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed away the laughter, “You were just trying to get me out of my shell. I appreciate it.” 

Seokmin smiled at that. His hand dropped from your back and you both stared into the expanse of his room. A small window to let in the rain, the moonlight separated by the grid, and the curtain blowing in a solemn breeze. You and Seokmin sat, both very small suddenly, like kids, on the edge of the bed and became speckled in starlight, in diamond-dust. 

Then Seokmin was doing it. He was letting you be comfortable, letting you slip into a dazed joy, intoxicated from his presence. He was asking about your teachers, exams, friends, experiences, and you were both laughing together, and once again you were forgetting that Seokmin was your brother’s best friend, and he was not with you for you, but he was simply talking to you out of courtesy to your brother. He let you forget.

“You going home for the break?” he asked then, room quieted down from all the laughter. The fall break, starting tomorrow, you remembered. You’d thought about going home, but had opted to text your parents that you were staying, wanting honestly to stay in your dorm room and work on assignments and organization and just lull in bed, instead of being taken up, down and everywhere in your hometown. You shook your head. 

“Really? Me neither,” he said, brows raised. “Won’t you get lonely?” 

You giggled shyly. “Maybe a little.” 

“We could hang out,” he breathed, and at that you tasted the boundary between you, felt it firm under your fingertips, because you couldn’t discern whether he was protecting his friend’s baby sister or if he actually liked talking to you, and your heart beat and yearned and hoped for the latter. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, melting when you saw his smile reach his eyes. 

“Didn’t you always like, uh, Mario Kart? You always wanted to play with me and Vern,” Seokmin said, but he was looking distantly into the window. You almost wanted to cry because he remembered you, remembered things that you liked. “I got it on my Playstation, we can play tomorrow.” 

“I’d like that,” you said.

Then Seokmin was loaning you his hoodie, and, bathed in his warm, tender smell, he followed you home under the moon, glaring at Jeonghan on his way out. 

“Keep the hoodie,” he’d said, smiling sheepishly when you stood in front of your dorm door. “It’s cute.” 

He patted your head and left, thankfully before he could see how red your face was, and how you were absolutely about to blow up from unfiltered joy. You shuffled into your dorm room and tried to soothe the basking butterflies in your stomach and your burning heart. 

Was he standing right across from you on that line, waiting to cross? _____________________________

Giselle woke up just early enough to catch you switching between different button-up dresses, throwing one on, looking in the mirror, and deciding to try another. She was groggy and tired and somewhat hungover, and needed to catch a train, so she could get back home. 

“What are you doing?” she cried, rubbing her eyes. You scurried back and forth trying on another dress, considering white tights, then white socks, then adjusting the tone and volume of your blush.

“I’m-” you gasped in between your hard labor, “I’m seeing a boy!” 

This caught Giselle’s attention. She shot straight up in her bed and looked at you with huge eyes. “No way!”

“Yeah way!” you giggled deviously. You turned around to face her. “What do you think of this outfit?” 

“You look cute!” Giselle praised, nodding to your red strawberry dress and your knee-highs. You slumped. There it was again - cute. Not hot, not pretty, but cute. That was what you were; like a child, like the kid Seokmin knew years ago, like his best friend’s baby sister. Nothing more.

“Who is this mystery guy?” Apparently Giselle was too busy rubbing sleep out of her eyes to see how her compliment had deflated you.

“It’s Seokmin. My-”

“Your brother’s best friend?!” She gasped. It was one shock after another from you that morning. “I wanna say I’m disappointed in you, but.. If you pull this off you’re way freakier than me.” 

“We’re not gonna have sex!” you groaned, pouting as you hastily shoved on your shoes. “We’re gonna play Mario Kart.” 

“Right, this cute guy just invited you over for Mario Kart and nothing else, I get it,” Giselle said sarcastically. 

“You don’t know him,” you mumbled defensively, shoes on and now staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “Cute,” the mirror spat at you.

“All men are the same,” Giselle rolled her eyes and threw herself back on the bed. You snorted and began to walk out the door.

“Y/n, wait!” 

“Hm?” 

Halfway out the door, a tote bag slung over your shoulder and ready to step into the sunlight, you peered back into the room. Giselle, in her sweats and hair fussed, stumbled blindly towards the door. She reached into her pocket and produced a-

“A condom?!” you shrieked, outraged. And not just any condom: a condom in white packaging with the lettering “I ❤️ DILFS”. You truly did not understand how Giselle managed to be a caricature of herself time after time.

“You need to wear protection, he’s in a frat, right?” she shrugged. You glared at her. “I’m not bringing a condom.” 

“Alright, I guess,-” Giselle pretended to think, “I guess, you’ll just have to get chlamydia.” 

You stared at her for a moment, bristling. Then you snatched it out of her outstretched hand.

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“You’re a prude.” 

“Goodbye, Giselle!” 

The condom slipped into your tote with ease to lay snug with all your other items and then you were out the door and heading towards Seokmin’s frat house. The sun was dulled by a few clouds, but it was still shining. Leaves were turning brown and red and yellow and were falling from trees to crunch underfoot - everything was lovely.

But the expanse, in your head, was much different. In your head you were traveling the soft dunes of a desert, spotting in the brown and red and yellow horizon a cleft in the sand. When you reached it, wide and long, seemingly endless to each side of you, you were standing right in front of Seokmin’s house.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, knuckles white where you grasped your tote, and eyes big and heart pounding. What if Giselle was right? Did you want her to be right? Would you even be able to please him if she was? Half-heartedly you tried to push away the images of Seokmin pushing into you, arms flexing on either side of your head, that spawned alongside the thought. Maybe you straddling him, his hands on your ass, his head buried in your chest, or-

“Y/N!” 

You jumped, clutching your bag tight, when you snapped your head up to the voice. It was Seokmin and he was waving at you from his upstairs-window, smiling so brightly you swore the sun reflected off of his teeth. 

“What are you standing there for, come inside! Door’s unlocked!” he yelled, body disappearing in the window. You stared at the window for a moment, his presence now absent, before you nodded to yourself in reassurance. You could do this, right? Just Mario Kart and small talk.

Truth was, you couldn’t do this. Not even in the slightest. You and Seokmin sat cross-legged on his bed, TV on the wall before it, drinking soda and crunching on chips. Seokmin was drenched in a green, fuzzy sweater, collarbones peeking over the rounded neck, and fingers peeking through the sleeves, where he held his controller, and God forbid, his hair was all soft and fluffy, and he was wearing fucking puppy socks. 

And he was competitive, too. He was leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he sped through the course. You huffed when he blue-shelled you, and you tried to refocus.

“I thought you said you were good?” he teased, eyes leaving the screen for only a second to look at you - you, dress bunched up to your thighs and tongue peeking through your pretty, subtly red lips. A second was all that was necessary. 

Suddenly, his character (baby Daisy) swerved off-course, falling into the pit below and he screeched, seemingly genuinely sad, as your character (Toadette) overtook him, the little gold badge popping up in the corner to tell you that you were number one. 

“What were you saying?” you giggled cockily when you finished the last round, Seokmin unable to quite catch up to you in the last stretch. He threw himself back on the bed in defeat, groaning into his hand.

“I can’t believe I let you win,” he cried.

“Let me?” you repeated in disbelief. You scoffed and put down the controller, pretending that Seokmin lying all angelic on his bed sheets wasn’t making your stomach pinch with static. “Pretty sure that was just pure skill on my part. Don’t blame me because you’re bad at Mario Kart.” 

A blow to his talents in Mario Kart was a blow to him. He snapped his head up to look at you, playfully angry. “Oh, oh wow, really? I’m bad at Mario Kart now?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, smiling cheekily at him. Seokmin studied you for a moment, before he shuffled into a sitting position. His gaze almost made you shy. Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?

Seokmin shuffled closer to you and you almost stopped breathing: “Don’t I remember you being ticklish?” 

You were almost so caught up in your fantasy to realize what he said. Your eyes widened in realization and you most immediately tried to twist your body away: a punishment was upon you.

“No- NO!-” You cried out but it was too late. Seokmin wrestled his body into yours, fingers dancing and prodding into your sides. Drowning in laughter, your face twisted into tortured pleasure, as you tried to bat his hands away. Your attempts were futile - each time you shuffled away, he followed right with you, fingers unrelenting as your torso twisted and turned. 

"Hehehehehehe- NO, PLEASE!- hehehehehehe!” 

Your knees pushed with all their might and you were almost able to drag yourself to the edge of the bed. There, you could gain distance and talk him down from beyond his desk. But Seokmin was smart. He sensed your escape plan when you squirmed away, and without much thought, he pulled his body on top of yours, weight pinning you down. 

You were still giggling and squirming, when his fingers finally let up. You were both panting from the excitement, Seokmin smiling down at you adoringly. Then, both of your smiles dropped.

It was like it took a few moments to realize; he was straddling you. Hips pushed into yours, all his weight rested on your crotch - your crotch, which was now pulsating. To make matters worse, the skirt of your dress had ridden up and most of your plush thighs were now visible to him, and your chest was halfway out of your dress, and your cheeks were flushed and your hair was spread out on the sheets beneath you. Seokmin seemed unsure of where to put his hands, while you both stared at each other, breathing in the thick, heavy silence.

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, I-” 

“I really- I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t worry-” 

You were pulling down your dress again, cheeks literally flaming red and bottom lip caught between your teeth. Silence swallowed you both whole. 

You wanted him back on your hips so bad. It hurt. You were aching in quick pulses, but you couldn’t even look at him. Surely, you thought, surely, he’d seen that look on your face, how your eyes clouded over with lust. Maybe he felt disgusted. 

“I better-” you hiccupped, voice small, “I better go.” 

Seokmin, eyes peeking at you through his lashes, feared he made you uncomfortable.

“Yeah, of course,” he mumbled.

You gathered your things and ran out of there, wetness gushing out of you. You tried to run, tried to create distance, but this time, in your mind’s eye, you ran in place, staying completely still by the cleft separating you and Seokmin. You fiddled with the edge, sand cascading into the empty, endless dark. 

There was no way you could make that jump.

That night you wished Giselle was by your side. You wrote an assignment, trying to ward off the embarrassment that stormed in your brain, when you got a message, that plunged you into rock bottom:

Lee Seokmin: hey you forgot smth at my house lol

Lee Seokmin: *Image Attached*

This was it. You were going to jump off a bridge (or a cleft in a dry, sandy wasteland).

As if your life couldn’t get anymore embarrassing: it was the condom. The white condom with “I ❤️ DILFS” on it. You damned that woman for ever making you bring it. What must he have thought of you? His best friend’s little sister trying to get in his pants? Your cheeks were burning and you threw your head into your pillow and screeched. Your life was over. It had simply ended now. There was no coming back from this. You huffed and removed yourself from its plushness. 

Maybe you could salvage it? Thinking on your feet, you replied:

You: OMG i’m so sorry!!!! i think that’s my roommate’s, she must’ve put it in my bag… :/ 

You: I’ll come pick it up ASAP :(((( 

You stared at your phone at the blatant. It was not a far stretch from the truth, but being caught with your hand in the cookie jar - or maybe more so the I ❤️ DILFS condom in your tote bag - it seemed like an irrationally shitty cover up. 

You gnawed at your lip when the three dots popped up next to his picture, and bit it to pieces waiting for his reply. You almost jumped when your phone buzzed:

Lee Seokmin: hahahahaha

Lee Seokmin: you can come pick it up tomorrow if u want? theres no rush 

You glared at the message. Laughter? Surely he hadn’t bought it. He was just trying to be nice, just trying to avoid you any embarrassment. The thought made you wanna throw up, how he felt this obligation to be nice to you when you had permanently scarred him (were you being dramatic?).

You: ok. im rlly sorry again!! i’ll pick it up tomorrow _____________________________

Tomorrow came much faster than you had hoped. No amount of tossing and turning could slow down the passage of time, and by the time you received Seokmin’s promised “I’m awake”-message, the embarrassment hadn’t faded one bit. 

Every discouraged moment of getting ready was haunted by your current situation, and you stopped to cringe every five seconds, causing an honest and diligent self-hatred to bubble within you. When you knocked on Seokmin’s door, you’d honestly never felt less confident in your life.

“Y/n!” he said enthusiastically. 

“Seokmin,” you said, less enthusiastic. 

He smiled at you sweetly, almost as sympathetically, before stepping aside. You furrowed your brow, not really understanding why he couldn’t just hand it to you at the door, but stepping inside nonetheless. “It’s in my room,” he offered, but could he not just have brought it with him? Did he have to prolong the shame even further? You followed him to his room.

In that moment you hated Seokmin for being who he was; for being sweet, gentle, caring, and gentlemanly. You would feel less pathetic if he yelled at you, if he was genuinely disgusted and wanted nothing to do with you. But there he was all smiling and supportive, and he wasn’t touching you at all, but he still felt like pillars on your back, soothing you and holding you up. 

“It was your roommate’s?” he asked absently as you traversed the halls. “Uh, yeah,” you answered sheepishly. 

“I can tell,” he threw his head back to you, and there was a huge grin on his face. A little bit of hope blossomed in your chest. “Yeah, I saw her at that party, you know? I think she slept with, uh, my friend, Minghao.” 

“That’ll be her,” you were smiling now too, and a huge wave of relief washed over you, as he at least let you believe that he thought it wasn’t your perversion bringing along that condom. 

Finally stumbling into his room, he did indeed pick it up from his desk, handing it back to you. You looked at it in his outstretched hand and blushed sheepishly. “Thanks,” you squeaked. 

Seokmin nodded in response. For a moment the two of you stood, uncertain of what to do and caught in the web of a terribly awkward silence. Seokmin’s eyes darted to the window and yours to the floor. 

“Hey, uh,” he giggled a little, scratching the back of his head. “I feel really bad for losing that Mario Kart game-”

You scoffed in response, but the facade of being peeved was falling apart, as you beamed up at him. 

“Maybe we could do, like, a quick rematch?” 

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant with an ever-heavy flush in your cheeks: “I don’t back away from a challenge.” 

Seokmin won the rematch. This only spurred on another rematch, and suddenly there was no end to the madness. This time there was no awkwardness, no lingering silences. You were just giggling and strategizing, and throwing heat in the direction of your opponents. 

That uncomfortable, clamoring feeling left you, slowly. It became easy to forget it. That feeling that he was only there with you because of Vernon, that there was always some sort of demand, a twisting hand, forcing him upon you, and that you became a sort of burden on him. That was the thing about Seokmin, though, his ability to make you feel like his best friend; his ability to make him feel like he was there for you, even when he wasn’t.

It was only after an hour and a half or so, when Seokmin paused the game. 

“What the hell, Lee? I was just about to beat you!” you whined, crossing your arms. He nodded along, pushing himself off the bed. “Yes, I agree, which is why I’ve assessed that I need a refreshment.” 

“Oh, you’ve assessed?” 

“Yeah, I’ve assessed that I need a fresh, cooling drink in my gullet.” 

You both laughed a little and slumped back, dropping the controller. Seokmin smiled at you, eyes twinkling. “You want one?” 

“What are you getting?” 

“A beer,” Seokmin said. Rationally, you knew you shouldn’t accept. You were bad with alcohol, and everytime you drank just a little, a little easily became a lot. That was why you took yourself by surprise when your voice left your mouth, chipper and grand: “Sure!” 

One beer turned into another, and Mario Kart turned into talking on his bed, slumped into his fortress of pillows and giggling at his stories. You were a little tipsy, halfway into your second beer and your face was flushed and Seokmin was lying on his side, hand propped up under his head, as he made you laugh again. 

“Your kind of partying sounds… Extreme,” you murmured, rim of the bottle pushed against your lips where your words slightly slurred. Mario Kart and alcohol had gotten you a little out of your shell, and now you and Seomin were talking like friends - as if your brother didn’t even exist. You basked in the alcoholic buzz and in this reality, this hideout, where your lovely brother didn’t exist and the faint ache in your legs at Seokmin’s godly face in the bedside lamp wasn’t so utterly misplaced. 

“I think anything’s more extreme than your partying,” Seokmin mused teasingly. You huffed, putting down your beer and smoothing over your skirt. Everything was so lovely and artificially yellow and his body beside yours radiated pleasant heat. He was beautiful, you thought, looking at how the sweaters pooled on his torso and how his brown hair looked so soft and messy. You almost felt the absence of ground beneath you, when you imagined yourself at the cleft again.

“You don’t know about my kind of partying,” you joked and he chuckled softly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t make assumptions.” 

You looked at him and he was suddenly serious. The smiley, gooey Seokmin was gone and his eyes, although not threatening at all, were prodding at you. Your smile fell. The alcohol at this time felt misplaced and wrong, the lightness felt wrong.

“Were you gonna, you know, go with Jeonghan at the party?” he whispered. The world was suddenly very quiet, as if it were following Seokmin’s tact. You grimaced a little. “No. No, not really.” 

He studied you. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, opting to look at your hands in your lap. “Why not?” 

A pause.

You began to pick at your own fingertips, nails digging into the cuticles. Seokmin’s eyes dragged from your face to your hands, and he scooted closer to you, only to cover your hand with his, stopping your movements immediately. Suddenly so close, his voice was whispered right in your ear, so soft and so gentle, it felt like a kiss: “Don’t do that.” 

You sucked in a breath, hands ripping to your sides to lay stiff. “I’m, uh, I’m not that experienced, so I..”

Your eyes flicked up to gauge his reaction. In your worst nightmares, you imagined a laugh breaking onto his face, maybe disgust, but you felt yourself melting. He looked at you so softly, like you were the most precious, fragile thing and his hand had stilled in the air after you pushed it off, as if, like the most enchanting artwork at a museum, he fought desperately not to reach out and touch you. 

It was unbearable - how still the air had become, how heavy you felt, how your chest struggled to expand. You talked again, if only to fill the air with your babbling: “I’ve not had.. I mean, I can hardly get myself off… So. I probably. Couldn’t. Get him off.” 

You realized about halfway through your sentence that you should not have said that. That last half of your sentence was a breathy mess, as your voice became shaky with humiliation. His gaze, a delicate constant, was not helping either. You felt tears welling up in your eyes suddenly and maybe that was the worst part. 

“You have trouble getting yourself off?” he repeated, as if to make sure. “Like masturba-” 

“Yeah, that,” you squeezed your eyes shut. You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to shut up forever, so you’d never have to know his reaction, or if you wanted him to talk and be able to sense how this information changed his perception of you. His voice came, in spite of whatever you had hoped.

“I figured you were a virgin,” he mumbled, voice half muted by the palm of his hand, “but I thought you at least masturbated-” 

“I do!” you defended yourself, voice much louder than his and brows furrowing and tears threatening to spill over your eyes. “I’m just- I’m not that good at it.” 

“Hey,” he said softly, hand landing on your arm. You immediately shut up, lip trembling when you struggled to meet his eyes. “Relax, Y/n. It’s okay. I’m not judging you.” 

You nodded half-heartedly, still incredibly uneasy. 

“If you want…” Seokmin’s voice trailed off. His eyes ventured over your form briefly, licking his lips. “You know, if you want, I could teach you.” 

You looked at him silently. He seemed to snap out of whatever loopy trance he had been sucked into, because he was suddenly very jittery and scrambling through the bedsheets. “Uh, I mean- you don’t- God, I’m sorry- it was only if-” 

“Yes,” you said. His scrambling stilled immediately. His eyes were teacups. 

“You sure?” 

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. 

Seokmin squeezed his eyes shut, gulping as he sat back against the bed. His legs spread apart. “Come here,” he patted his thighs. 

You felt terribly sober. All that buzz and butterflies and blaze and blossom was gone and you felt like a doll, moving each limb individually, as you climbed into his lap, back to him. You were unable to think, unable to truly process what was happening, what it meant, as you felt his form engulf yours.

His hands found purchase on your hips and his breath was warm on your neck, as you felt every ridge of his abdomen on your back. His thumbs rubbed against your hip bone. 

“Okay, now show me how you usually do it,” his voice was a warm hum, a twinge of nervousness laced in it. Your face was lit ablaze and you squirmed in his hold, when one hand left your hip to gently push your legs apart. You sat, all open and held against him, dress keeping you covered.

“It’s embarrassing,” you huffed, being very serious, but Seokmin smiled and nosed your hair gently. 

“We can stop whenever you want, seriously, if you get uncomfortable, we stop” he reassured. 

“It’s just me.” 

It was. It was just Seokmin, your brothers best friend, the sweetest boy in the world, who used to have a swanky bowl cut and dorky school uniform and who was always Vernon’s most respectful friend, but he was hot and whispering into your ear and one hand was massaging the outside of your thigh. 

“Should I take my dress off?” you breathed, face turned halfway back to him. His hands squeezed at you in response and you could faintly make out his tongue sliding over his lips. 

“Only if you want, angel,” he whispered back, rubbing your sides tenderly. “We’re not doing anything you don’t want. Whatever makes you feel good. ‘M just here to help.” 

You nodded, and although the answer was maybe made to make you keep your dress on - a reassurance that there was no need to discard it - you removed yourself from his grasp, hands coming to tug your dress off. You felt a small boost of confidence when you heard Seokmin breathe out: “Shit.” 

Only in your bra and panties (terribly mismatched, your bra was black and your panties were pink), you leaned back into his hold, and you noted how Seokmin’s warm hands were much more careful now, splaying out on your bare skin. 

“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly. You nodded. He propped his head up on your shoulder, eyes cast down your almost-nude body, chest rising and falling. Your legs were closed again, he noticed, and his veiny hand reached down to open them again. “Show me how you do it, baby, so I can help you improve.” 

You gummed your lip, breathing in one last time, before your nervous fingers began dancing their way to your panties. They disappeared under the fabric for only a moment, before Seokmin spoke again.

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, hand wrapping around your wrist to stop its track. “Don’t just dive right in, you need to get yourself all hot first.” 

Your brows furrowed and some of the embarrassment you felt from being this exposed and pressed into Seokmin evaporated into genuine confusion.

“What? What do you mean?” you said, somewhat outraged, and Seokmin couldn’t help the laughter blooming in his chest at that. He vibrated against your back, hands smoothing down your arm. You pouted: “Don’t laugh at me, Minnie.” 

He stopped, still smiling as he nosed your temple. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, that had your heart beating out of your chest. “You’re just so cute.” 

Cute. You remembered your disdain for that word, but somehow, when it came from his lips, it made you beam. Everywhere he touched left behind a hot, burning ghost on your skin.

“You just have to touch your body, sweetheart,” he said sweetly. You thrashed in defiance, crying out quietly with red cheeks. Wiggling your body angrily, you felt his dick half-hard in his pants against your lower back. 

“Can’t you do it?” you whined, wanting nothing more than for him to take over and make you feel good. He sucked in a harsh breath behind you, fingers wrapping around your hands to soothe you still. He seemed to debate your proposal, but eventually he kissed your shoulder and spoke: “Okay, baby, but you have to show me you understand, alright?” you nodded feverishly. “We’re trying to get you to learn.” 

The whole thing had you dizzy, warm and gooey in his hands, and grounding yourself on his solid torso. You had tunnel vision, unable to focus on anything but his warm hands and sweet voice, and how fucking hard he was. You leaned your head up to look at him pleadingly. Even upside-down he was pretty. He giggled at your starstruck expression.

“Look at my hands, pretty,” he tapped your nose and you scrunched it, turning down to your own body, where he sat his hands on your waist. “You do it like this.” 

His hands started dragging over your skin, creating constellations of ghosts on your skin. One dragged across your stomach and down your leg, squeezing it along the way, and the other brushed over your bra-covered chest, landing on your shoulder and collarbones. Then they moved oppositely, then diverged from their chosen paths, and you started breathing heavily. Pressure built up in your stomach and your panties, and you felt how slick started leaking out of you. 

“Feel good?” Seokmin grinned against your neck, listening to the melody of your panted gasps. You nodded earnestly, moaning softly. Seokmin furrowed his brows at that noise, pressing kisses to your neck appreciatively. “Good girl. Such pretty sounds.” 

Both of Seokmin’s hands dragged up to your ribs. There, they paused. “Can I touch your chest, baby?” 

“Please,” you whimpered, and earned another sloppy kiss to the cheek. His hands immediately grabbed ahold of your chest, softly rubbing it over your bra. 

“Does that feel good?” he whispered. You hesitated for a moment. “Um, I don’t feel much, honestly.” 

You’d expect him to be a little angry or defensive, but Seokmin only hummed and nustled himself into your hair. “Good girl. Good girl, being so honest with me. So pretty.” 

You whined at his praise and Seokmin smiled smugly, taking notice of how heated you got from his words. 

“The- the fabric is in the way..” you whimpered meekly, and Seokmin nodded in understanding, stroking your sides soothingly. 

“You want to take off your bra?” he hummed, truly as if it would not expose you to him, as if it weren’t a lewd and depraved scenario, but something as simple as the weather. You nodded, removing yourself from the harbor of his arms once more to remove it. You unclipped it and threw it God knows where, before settling back into him. Seokmin peeked over your shoulder at your now bare breasts, groaning a little and covering it up with a cough. This was about you. 

Seokmin placed his hands on your tits again, massaging and rubbing the soft skin, before he brushed his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

You moaned - for the first time it was a clear moan, seething from your throat and puffing into the air. “Sound so pretty,” he muttered in your ear. “You really like that, hm?”

He pinched your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his warm hands. Then, as soon as the pleasure had begun, it stopped, when his hands came to rest on the bed. You whined, twisting your head towards his, only to be stopped by fingers on your chin, turning you back forward. “Show me you can do it now, baby. You’re learning,” he reminded you.

 “But, Minnie, I want your hands,” you whined and he tutted softly in your ear. “I know, baby, but I need to know that you’re understanding this in that pretty little head of yours. Need to know you’re focusing. Come on, show me now.” 

Huffing, you placed your own hands (they somehow felt more foreign than his now) on your stomach and began to mimic his movements. You smoothed them up and down on your body, squeezing, then placed them on your chest, rubbing and pinching your nipples. 

“There you go,” he praised, and his hands had traveled to your shoulders, massaging them gently. You whimpered and turned your head to him again.

“Can you teach me how to touch my…” you trailed off.

“Your pussy?” he offered, as if it was nothing, as if it wasn’t vulgar or lewd. You nodded vigorously. Feeling him gulp a little, his hands became a little unsteady as they came to hold your waist again. “Can I hear you say it? Baby?” he asked and suddenly his voice was a little shaky, a little breathless. 

“Can you touch my pussy now, Minnie?” you asked, and any shame had been clouded over with lust. You’d never been this burningly bothered in your life, you needed him to touch you. He groaned, and this time he was unable to cover it up. You felt how his hard cock strained against his sweatpants, how it pressed into your back, and you wanted to touch it so bad. 

“Alright, baby, want your panties off?” His sharp nose was pressed into your hair. You shook your head. “Want them on.” 

He nodded. “Alright, jus’ tell me if you wanna stop, okay? I’m gonna touch you now.” 

His hand slipped under the waistband of your panties, disappearing under the pink fabric. As if they were always meant to be there, his fingers slipped through your folds, coming down to circle your slit in impossibly light figurations. 

“Shit,” he panted, grip on your waist suddenly bruising, as he tried to steady himself. “You’re so wet, baby, you like Seokminnie that much?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded blindly, your own hands coming to grip onto his thighs. His middle finger danced upwards and pressed against your clit, and you immediately squeaked and shut your legs around his hand. 

“No, no, baby, don’t do that,” he frowned, hand that wasn’t buried in your pussy spreading your legs again. You felt how his legs, pressed against you, came to hook onto yours, forcing your legs apart with his own strength. He hummed in content. 

His finger pressed onto your clit again, and he felt how your legs tensed, straining against his to close. Your back arched and you moaned, eyes squeezed shut. He began rubbing it, and it was so intimate, how close you were to him, how his hand navigated your sopping wet pussy, fingers just rubbing you gently, and how bare you were, his eyes training over your bouncing tits when you thrashed. 

His fingers moved downwards again, gathering the wetness that was gushing out of you. Then, one long middle finger pushed into you. Canting into his hand, you moaned loudly and turned your head into his neck. Nosing the tan skin and inhaling his faint cologne, you began mindlessly kitten-licking the skin. His Adam's apple bopped under your tongue.

“You’re so tight,” he rasped, beginning to slowly push his finger in and out of you. His other hand had come to wrap around your waist in an attempt to calm the sudden bucking of your hips against his hand. 

His hand moved faster, obscene, wet sounds coming from your ruined underwear, where he worked diligently into your pussy. He slipped another finger in, and you cried from the stretch. It was becoming hard to contain you, thrashing and writhing against his hold, stuck between wanting to move closer and to move away entirely. His fingers tied a knot in your stomach.

“That’s right, pretty, tell me how good Minnie’s fingers feel,” he whispered hoarsely above your ear. You could almost only whine and moan, nipping at his neck a little. “Tell me or I’ll stop,” he warned.

“Feels so good!” you whined immediately, because if he stopped now, you figured you might start crying. “Feel so, so, so good, fuck, Seokmin, I’m-” 

“I know, baby, I know, but I’m teaching you, right?” 

Though your mind was fuzzy, you sensed what these words meant and panicked, hand coming down to grip his wrist in an attempt to hold him in place. “Please, please, please, Seokmin, don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” 

“Don’t talk back to me, sweetheart. I won’t stop, just talk to me. Tell me what you feel me doing,” pushing your head up again, Seokmin pressed his face against your cheek, so hard, you felt his humid pants against it. 

Your mind was so hazy, so transfixed on the feeling in your stomach and his finger in your pussy, you could hardly respond. 

“Tell me or I’ll stop, baby,” he reminded you again, and you scrambled frantically to focus. 

“Nngh! You’re- pushing in and out-” your voice broke, hips stuttering against his hand, that was continuing its remorseless pace. 

“Yeah, and?”

You furrowed your brows, lips trembling. “You’re- you’re curling them- A-ah!” 

“That’s right. Such a good girl. So smart and clever for me,” Seokmin whispered happily, his other hand slipping down your stomach to circle your clit. Both his hands working pleasure into your pussy, you cried out loudly, head pushed back into his chest.

“Just let go, baby, I can feel you clenching on me so hard. Wan’ me to stay in your pussy forever, hm? Just let go, cum whenever you want, wanna see your pretty face so bad,” somehow Seokmin was just as intoxicated off of lust as you, despite staying, hard and untouched, in his pants. But he babbled mindless praise to you, and you came to his sweet voice whispering in your ear.

Your orgasm sent you hurdling over the edge - the edge, the one you’d been standing at hopelessly for years. You flew across it and landed on Seokmin’s territory; in his arms. 

“Seokmin, a-ah!” you cried, releasing all over his fingers, coating them in your cum. Your entire body arched upwards, as you moaned into the night. Seokmin rode you through your high, pressing sweet kisses into your hair.

You fell limp against his body, worn out, when he finally retracted his fingers from your pussy. You snuggled into his sweater with a content hum. 

Seokmin smiled down at you, eyes brimming with fondness, as his cum-slicked hands wrapped around your torso in a hug, holding you into him. “You did so well,” he whispered genuinely. 

You looked up at him with a tired smile. “Thank you, Seokmin.” 

He held himself back from saying he would do that a thousand times over, in fact, he wouldn’t mind never pulling out - he could live with only one hand. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered: “Of course, darling.” 

Your brows furrowed and you pulled yourself away from him a little, eyeing the tent in his pants worriedly. “Do you want me to-” 

“No,” he shook his head decidedly. “No, I’ll take care of it.” 

You looked at him with big, innocent eyes, that only furthered the throbbing of his cock. Partially, he wanted to give in so badly. The thought of your hand around his cock, all pouty and innocent and confused, and how heavy it would be in your small hand, had made him cum more times than he’d like to admit. But, he reminded himself, this was about you. This was a favor. “Are you sure?” you asked softly.

“Yes, baby, go to bed. I’m gonna go get you some fresh clothes.” 

You snuggled into bed while Seokmin scurried away to fetch a shirt and some boxers, and when he came back you cooperated limply in taking off your panties, and putting on what he’d given you. You fell asleep in his bed, cuddling his duvet, and surrounded by his scent. 

Seokmin watched you in adoration. How peaceful you looked, chest rising and falling, and a little pout on your lips. 

He wandered through the house, trying simultaneously to get as far from you as possible, and also trying to decide which of his housemates he currently hated the most. He landed on Jeonghan, slipping into his empty room and settling himself on the bed.

There, he fisted his solid fucking cock and bucked into his own hand, eyes squeezed shut to remember how you looked under his hands, how you begged for him, how well you listened, what a good girl you were for him. His moans were trembling and muffled by his own hand, and when he came, he felt momentarily smug, looking at how it dripped over Jeonghan’s sheets (served him right). Then, post-nut clarity sank in, as he reentered his own room and cuddled into you on the bed. 

He felt almost despicable. He felt gross and evil and perverted and lewd, not because of you, but because, as if it were his first time realizing it, he remembered that you were Vernon’s sister. He remembered that he had promised to protect you from manipulative guys and always watch over you, and help you if you needed help, and report to Vernon if you were acting weird. Yet here he was, letting you cum on his hand and groping your tits, as if he was still that teenage boy with that swanky bowl cut. 

After an hour of chewing on his lips and frowning, Seokmin let your sweet perfume lull him to sleep. He dreamt of you. _____________________________

There’s a blissful instant that morning when you wake up, curled into Seokmin’s arms, head nuzzled in his chest. There’s a blissful instant when you tilt your head, staring at his sleeping face, and he’s so beautiful, features all soft and breathing rhythmically. There’s a blissful instant where you see him, and your heart weeps in your chest because he’s so gorgeous.

Then it’s gone.

A panic button is pressed in your head, and your nerve-endings, each one resting on him, begin burning. What had you done? Yesterday feels like a faraway dream, but he’s still wearing that sweater and it grounds you in the reality of what had happened. 

You’re lost. What did this mean for the two of you? Was Seokmin just lusting after you? But that couldn’t be right, you thought, because he’d insisted on only helping you, refused your offers to help him, which now was making you rot in his arms with guilt. Was this genuinely an attempt to help you? To be diligently by your side at the request of your brother? But surely this had been outside of the realm of what was acceptable to help your best friend’s baby sister with? Did that mean he liked you? 

Seokmin awakened from your sudden squirming, as if, with enough shaking and turning, that feelings and thoughts would just fall out of you. They didn’t, they stayed right where they were, and all you were given in return was Seokmin’s eyes fluttering open. 

You watched him go through that same process; the bliss came first and then the panic. Seokmin’s eyes went from adoring to wide and grave and suddenly he was shuffling away from you on the bed, creating a cool distance between you on the landscape of his mattress. You didn’t miss the pink dusting his cheeks.

“Uh- good morning,” he mumbled, and he could only look at his hands. Your throat was unbelievably dry. “Morning.” 

You’re not sure how you both managed, but you went through that morning without mentioning the previous night even once. The air was thick with tension, fleeting glances, and shaky hands, while Seokmin made you both bowls of oatmeal. You stood on the other side of the counter in his shirt and his boxers. 

You ate in his bed. It was silent and heavy and each clink of spoons against the bowl-rims had you both wincing. He put on a TV-show and you sat across from one another, chewing wordlessly to some drama in the background. Your belly was pooling with tension and light cascaded onto you, revealing your pores and flaws. Were you a bad person?

Finally, finally, Seokmin put down his spoon with yet another clink, fingers catching the bridge of his nose and eyes squeezing shut. He huffed into the palm of his hand, swallowing the oatmeal hard. 

“Uh-” he began and his voice cracked, “Y/n. About last night-” 

But you cut him off, and he couldn’t ever, even in his wildest dreams, have imagined that these words would come out of your mouth:

“I want to return the favor.” 

The words were almost spat and discarded, as if they’d been sitting on the tip of your tongue all morning with a foul taste, and you’d only now been able to rid yourself of it. Seokmin snapped his head towards you, a genuine surprise on his face, but he soon wished he hadn’t looked at all. 

You were so pretty, sitting cross legged in his shirt and a blush creeping up your neck and cheeks all shiny in the morning sun. And there was this innocence to your eyes, big lashes shadowing it only a little; this earnestness that told him you really, really wanted to do this for him.

“I-” he chuckled a little, heart clenching at your sweetness, “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“Well, it’s good that I’m asking you then,” you said, and though the comment was witty, when Seokmin looked at you again, he saw how careful you looked, and how unsure you were of yourself. 

“Listen, N/n,” he reached out to grab your hand, and it was burning into yours, each area of adjoined skin screaming at you with reminders of last night. “You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to make you feel good, I was happy to just be of service to you-” 

“But I want to make you feel good,” you pouted, almost brattily. Seokmin’s gentle expression and tone faded into something darker, as his eyes flitted down to your exposed legs and your heaving chest. He swallowed, putting away his bowl of oatmeal and collecting himself. 

“Are you sure? You need to be absolutely 100% sure-” 

“I’m sure, Minnie. I want to-” you broke off your own words with a squeak, face becoming bright red. You leaned in self-consciously, as if to tell him a secret: “I want to suck your dick.” 

Your whispered admittance had him groaning, groaning at how sweet and innocent your voice was, how you couldn’t even say it loudly, you had to whisper the dirty word to him. He wanted you so badly, wanted to be the one to take away your innocence, to make you all dirty and beg for him, to make you thrash and whine and to teach you how to really feel good. He wanted you.

It’s like a switch had flipped, when Seokmin put his hand on the back of your head, and suddenly you were kissing again. The tension from before was replaced with something wholly different, something hot, something laced in the eye contact he gave you, before he leaned it again. 

And Seokmin was kissing you with a fervor that you recognized from yourself - you both wanted to forget. Wanted to forget Vernon, who, although a great brother and friend, had become a heavy strain on your relationship with Seokmin. So you kissed him and let his tongue in your mouth when it swiped over your bottom lip, and you sucked on it, and you let him and yourself get lost in each other.

The sound of smacking lips and saliva was so lewd too, especially when Seokmin’s hand pulled you from your spot on the bed and into his lap, hands roaming your body, while you tangled into his hair. He was half-moaning into your mouth by the time he pulled away, face flushed and eyes darker and lower and lips swollen red. 

“You gonna let me use that pretty mouth, baby?” he whispered against your lips, one hand palming over his cock through his boxers. You nodded, almost desperately, one hand reaching out to his in his lap. “Can I touch it?” 

Seokmin smiled fondly, looking down at where your small hand was outstretched towards his cock. “Yeah, baby, go ahead.” 

You were a bit clumsy at first, but soon enough you found its outline in his black boxers and you squeezed it a little. Seokmin crooked over, groaning into your shoulder. You felt him get harder and harder against your palm, a small smile at the desperate noises he was making. 

Seokmin had laid his cheek on your shoulder, neck twisting to stare up at you, while you focused solely on touching him, and he hated himself for getting even harder because it was you - you, who he had wanted for so long, who he was hugged into and lying on, while you touched his warm cock.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, breathing heavily, and then smiling brightly when you became all sheepish, smiling and looking away, so that you had to pause your actions. He nosed into your neck, regaining some semblance of control over the situation, now that you weren’t touching him, and his breath was warm and humid on your skin. He pressed small kisses up to your jawline, nose flattening against you.

“So, so pretty. Fuck, imagining you with my cock in your mouth, all drooling and shit. Fuck, baby, you gonna let me fuck your mouth?” he rambled, hands finding home on your tits again. You whined and nodded, trying to pry him off of you. Immediately (forever struggling with a little concern that you might’ve changed your mind) he pulls away, looking up at you worriedly. 

“Don’t- don’t touch me, I don’t wanna get.. All hot,” you whispered those words that he had said last night, biting your lip in worry. “I want to do it now.” 

Seokmin melted completely, and in a complete inability to contain his adoration, brushed hair out of your face and pressed a million kisses to your cheeks and your nose. “Okay,” he said in between kisses, and you felt his smile on your skin, “okay, baby. But if it gets too much, tap my thigh three times, okay? If you need anything, if you feel uncomfortable.” 

“Yes, yes,” you huffed, pushing yourself away from him and hopping onto the floor, sinking to your knees before the bed. 

It felt completely unreal - to both of you. How you were suddenly on your knees and how he settled in front of you, bare, thick thighs on either side of your head. Everything was all light and all the places he’d kissed and touched had become holy and glowing on your body. He shimmed his boxers off and you gaped at the sudden exposure of his dick. 

He was hard. Apparently the kissing and groping had been enough, because it slapped against his sweater, leaking silky white liquid from the tip. And he was big - you didn’t exactly have a good point of reference, but you vaguely sensed from Giselle’s words that this was quite a feat. 

And actually seeing it brought a wave of uncertainty on you, not as to whether or not you wanted to do it, but how. So, you blinked up at him with a small frown, voice small when you spoke: “Seokmin.. How- how do I do it?” 

Seokmin practically glowed with adoration, when he petted your head and rubbed your cheek, seemingly so comfortable despite being totally bare. “You just put your lips around it and suck, baby, it’s easy,” he said softly, then added, a little panicked: “And be mindful of your teeth.” 

“But it’s so big,” you marveled, eyes trained on it, and he almost groaned at it, because you sounded so genuinely amazed, so disbelieving. 

“Just put your hands around the parts you can’t reach. I’ll be gentle, baby, don’t worry,” he said. You nodded hesitantly, leaning forward towards it, but his hand in your hair suddenly clenched and pulled you back. You looked up at him and saw his eyes brimming with worry. “You do want this, right?” 

“Yes, please, stop being so- so gentle with me and let me suck your dick!” You whined, fed up with being treated like glass, and tugged his hand out of your hair. Seokmin visibly relaxed at your insistence, nodding. 

Finally, fingers grabbing the base of it, you wrapped your mouth around the tip. You were met immediately with the taste of his pre-cum, licking over where it leaked curiously. Seokmin’s hand found your hair again, gripping it tight to steady himself, as he groaned loudly. You slowly sank down, basking in the whimpers you ripped from his mouth.

“Fuck- you’re- you’re doing so good, baby,” he cried, face twisted in pleasure and head thrown back. You looked up at him and he was so pretty and glowing, panting into the air. 

You sank down as far as you could, feeling the tip sit snug against the back of your mouth, and your hands wrapped around the base of his dick. You looked up at him, experimentally squeezing, and pursing your lips around his dick to suck it carefully.

“A-ah! Fuck!” Seokmin cried, hand that wasn’t in your hair squeezing the edge of his mattress. His thighs were flexing on either side of your head. “You’re- you’re so good at this, sweetheart. Good girl, fuck, such a pretty girl for me, letting me use you like this.” 

You whined at his words, squeezing your thighs together. Seokmin’s hips bucked upwards at the vibrations, hitting the back of your throat. The sudden intrusion was unexpected and you let out a garbled moan around his cock. He panted regretfully: “S-Sorry, baby, d-didn’t mean to do that, you just feel so good. Can- can you bob your head up and down it for me?” 

You did, started moving your head up and down his shaft, and breathing hard through your nose, while your hands squeezed the base of his cock. Looking up at Seokmin, you felt confidence that you were doing something right. He was in heaven, face all scrunched up and breathing as if he’d just ran a marathon. 

And when he peeked his down to you, he could’ve cum immediately. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, head bopping with tears in your eyes from the pressure in your throat, and how curious and sparkling they were, gauging his reaction. The groan that clawed its way up from his heart, through his throat and out into his room quickly turned to a whimper. 

“I’m- I’m gonna cum, sweet pea, can I-” he swallowed hard, because even the thought had him close to release. “Can I cum down your throat, pretty?” 

You nodded, a little too preoccupied to answer, but Seokmin got it, and with just a couple more bobs, and the feeling of your wet tongue pressing against the underside of his cock, he spurted into your mouth in long ropes of white, whining at the top of his lungs, and pulling hair from the roots. 

It was, admittedly, a little gross and sticky in your mouth, but it was also hot and you felt proud you’d made him feel good. He was panting, trying to recover, when you pulled off his dick, a satisfied smile on your face. His hand wandered to your face, caressing your cheekbone, before moving down to your puffy lips. 

“Can I-” he was almost embarrassed, “Can I see baby? Can you open your mouth for me?” 

A little confused, you did as told and opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue that was still covered in his sticky release. 

“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself not to get hard again. “C-Can you swallow it for me, beautiful?” 

Still confused, you nodded and gulped it down, trying not to look like it felt as gross as it did. If Seokmin noticed, he didn’t remark it, because he only groaned again, and pulled you by your face into a sloppy, heated kiss. 

“So, so, so good for me,” he whispered, not letting you out of the kiss, even when saliva dripped down your chin. “Such a good girl, letting me use her mouth, such an obedient, good girl.” 

You whined into his mouth at those words, bothered by the aching in your core that his moans and his blissed out face had caused, and now those words repeated over and over: Good girl.

He grinned into your mouth. “Yeah? You like being my good girl, right? Like doing your best for Seokminnie?” 

“Yes,” you murmured breathlessly, too lost in the feeling of his mouth and his hands rubbing your waist to come up with anything better.

Seokmin pulled away with a warm smile, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “You did well,” was all he said, and you could genuinely cry, because that was it - you just wanted to know you did well. 

“I’m gonna go clean up, okay?” he said, waiting for you to nod in response before he pushed himself off the bed, snatching a new pair of boxers from a drawer on his way out of the door. 

You threw yourself on the bed, closing your eyes contentedly. 

He liked you. You were sure of it now, when you thought back to how his eyes had balked at you so wonderfully, how careful and attentive he’d been. You were certain, and your heart smiled and you smiled and your hair was sprawled out on his sheets and for the first time, that desert wasteland in your head welcomed you and took you in, and you were right where you were supposed to be. 

Until your phone started buzzing. 

It was dancing across the sheets violently at someone's call and you peeked open one eye tiredly to pick it up. And when you did, the desert turned on you. Caught in a sandstorm, you held your phone between your fingers and felt your heart drop, lowered into the acid bath of your stomach.

It was Vernon.

Vernon, who was Seokmin’s best friend. Vernon, who was your brother. Vernon, who had always yelled at you to leave his room whenever he had Seokmin over. Vernon, who didn’t like when you talked to any guys at all, who had recruited his best friend to watch over you and take care of you. Vernon, whose best friend had just had his dick in your mouth. 

You heard the shower running distantly when you clicked accept, hoping to God that you didn’t look too disheveled. 

“Hi, N/n!” Vernon cheered immediately on the other end. His face popped up on your screen, a bright smile on his face. You smiled too - you missed your brother - but it was half faded, and Vernon noticed immediately. 

“Hi, Vern,” you said softly. His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” 

Of course, he could read you like a book. Of course, he knew that you were distant and nervous. You sighed heavily, trying desperately to collect yourself, to remember how you usually behaved, but for some reason, that you was far gone, and you had to be splayed on his screen, like a person replaced by something peregrine. 

“I’m a little stressed out,” you mumbled. “Got a lot of papers and stuff, that’s why I’m not home.” 

“Come home next break, okay? We miss you and you need to get out of that place every once in a while.” 

You nodded. 

Vernon’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and you saw him lean closer to the screen (which would have been funny, were you not suddenly wondering if there was leftover cum on your face). “Hey, where are you right now?” 

“My friend,” you said quickly - too quickly. “Her name’s Yunjin, we’re working together in chem.” 

Vernon hummed, seemingly content with your answer. “Your friend has the same bed sheets as Seokmin.” 

Shit, yeah, they facetimed every week, you remembered, cringing at yourself for not thinking of it earlier. You tried to play it cool, shrugging: “Weird.”

“Yeah, anyway-” 

Vernon rambled on and on about something or other, but you were unable to focus, watching the door to Seokmin’s room with a worried frown.

Moreover, you felt like a whore. Realistically, you hadn’t even lost your virginity. But sleeping with your brother’s best friend suddenly felt way more real now that you were talking to said brother, now that you were lying to his face, and you felt dirty and gross and you wished you could stand before Vernon, as the same baby sister that you had been before. But you weren’t. You were disgusting.

“Vernon, I gotta go,” you cut him off, and you hadn’t heard a word. Vernon’s excited expression dropped and he furrowed his brows. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you thanked the pixels for concealing at least a bit of the worry on his face. 

“Yeah, I just- I really need to get going,” you said. “Bye, Vernon!”

“By-” 

You disconnected the call and gathered your things, put your own clothes back on. Throwing Seokmin’s clothes onto his floor felt like shedding a second skin - a skin that had made you ugly and greedy and lustful. You only kept his boxers on, lumping the dress over your shoulders to drape over you in an unsightly and unorganized way. 

You spared a glance at the wrapped condom on his bedside table, long lost and forgotten by now. You could leave it. You could leave it and have a reason to come back, a reason to slip across that ledge again and fall into his arms and his mouth and his warmth. You almost did. Almost left it right there, where it begged to belong. But you snatched it off the counter, ignoring the way your heart clenched when you did, and slipped it into your tote bag. And you left, jumping across the border that separated you and back into your own wasteland. And it was so cold and so empty. You were alone again.

Seokmin came out of the shower, expecting to see you cuddled up in his bed, all soft and beautiful. But you weren’t there. Seokmin understood immediately. The condom was gone and so were you, only the perfume in his sheets remained, willing him to remember. And he cried. He sobbed into his own hands, because what had he done? 

You did not see each other the rest of that day. Or the next day. _____________________________

Seokmin wanted to let you disappear. He wanted you to slip away and he wanted to forget it had even happened - like a burning star dies out and leaves only a faint warmth behind, lasting years. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go, couldn’t bear knowing he’d never hold you in his arms again, never see you laugh again, never see you cum again. And he couldn’t bear knowing that maybe he’d read it wrong; maybe he’d made you uncomfortable, maybe you’d felt obligated. 

So he texted you. For two days his texts came in sporadically and unsuccessfully. Questioning and pleading, he wanted to know it wasn’t true. 

Lee Seokmin: why’d you leave? 

Lee Seokmin: can we talk??

Lee Seokmin: i miss u

Lee Seokmin: i need to know i didnt hurt you

Lee Seokmin: can you please answer? 

Each text came more painful than the last. Each text came more pleading. You sat alone in your room, in the dark, having only his one sided chats to light up your tear-streaked face. 

Eventually they stopped coming. You thought they would. You thought, you knew, eventually he’d give up. But what hurt the most was knowing he wanted you too; knowing he liked you as much as you liked him. You’d seen it in his eyes, when his hand slipped between your legs, and you’d seen it when he came staring down at you.

But you preferred to remember Seokmin for how he was.

How he was small and young, how he had a swanky bowlcut and how he looked in his school uniform. How he and your big brother, Vernon, had bonded and watched movies together in your living room, and the countless dinners he’d stayed over for, always so respectful to your parents and you. You preferred to remember when he didn’t love you back. 

The pain that had been tethered to your youth and to him, back when he was unreachable, just a figure you could marvel at, was so much duller compared to this pain, the one pulsed in your heart now: the pain of him loving you back, but still being off-limits. Something that could be, but was destined to die out. And it did, when he stopped texting you, you felt that unborn child’s soul leave your own. Alone again.

And then suddenly, you weren’t. 

A stern knock on your door. You flinched at the sound, fearing the worst. You were in your bed, in your sweatpants and your sweater and that condom was on the bedside table, watching the door with you. 

Another knock.

“Y/n, I know you’re in there!” 

Seokmin. Of course, it was Seokmin. No one else would come for you. But it was all too painful. You feared the worst - feared that seeing him, you would collapse into him again, and that this time you wouldn’t be able to find your way back. 

“Open the door, Y/n,” his voice was serious.

“Go away, Seokmin!” you yelled, voice breaking halfway. 

A pause. When Seokmin spoke again, he was not angry anymore; he was vulnerable.

“Y/n. I-I know you don’t want to talk to me, but-” he paused, wincing at himself and you knew there was tears in his eyes. “But I need to know that I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” 

You thought that you could handle the self-blame Seokmin omitted - maybe that’s just because it was words on a screen. But hearing him crying outside your door, and how real he was when his hand knocked vigorously, it tore down each and every one of your last defenses. 

“I need- I need to hear that you’re okay and that I-” 

“I’m opening the door,” you interrupted him, and sure enough you padded to the door and swiftly unlocked it. 

And then you were standing before one another. It was like time stopped, how the air stilled around you, and how the world quieted down. He was all crumpled paper hearts, all deflated and broken, and his hair was messy and his eyes were dark, but they sparkled again, just at the sight of you, and yours at him. 

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, breaking the enchantment cast upon you. The real world came crashing down, the people in the streets and birds in the trees and wind coursing through the leaves. The light that you’d shut out with a firm tug to the curtains was dancing on your linoleum floor. “It’s my fault. It’s- I talked to Vernon and I- I feel like shit, Seokmin. I feel like a slut.” 

“You’re a virgin!” Seokmin scoffed, but it did nothing to calm you. 

“It felt wrong! Because I- because you’re Vernon’s friend. Because Vernon never likes when I date guys, and because now I’ve been fooling around with his best friend,” you defended yourself, biting your lip when tears stung your eyes. Seokmin softened. “I just felt guilty. And gross.” 

“You’re not gross, you’re in love,” he said softly, and your eyes locked. Everything about him was pleading - he was just short of literally falling to his knees, begging for you to hear him out. “And- and with me, of all people!” 

“Seokmin-” 

“And I’m in love with you too,” his voice was an urgent whisper, not daring to let you speak again, to let you try and steer him away. 

“Of all people,” you mumbled, a small smile finding your lips. Seokmin smiled too. 

“So.. I’m tired of hearing you talk about yourself like this. I’m tired of Vernon being the one keeping us apart. I want- I want you to know that Vernon would understand.”

You shook your head dismissively. He wouldn’t. 

“I know him too! You know? Maybe better than you,” he pouted a little, and it made you laugh, and everything was becoming lighter, and for better or worse you really did want to jump into his arms again. “He shouldn’t be the thing stopping you from dating me- or- or anyone, really. But especially me.” 

You giggled again, and Seokmin’s heart palpitated in his chest at that sound - and at being the source of it. Then the laughter trailed off and your smile tightened and your heart tightened: “I just don’t want to sneak around-” 

“Okay! Say no more!” Seokmin interrupted, hand held out as if to calm a mighty beast. He casually pulled out his phone, tongue in his cheek, as he called your brother. Vernon.

It rang for a few seconds, put on speaker. You couldn’t help the nervousness. Couldn’t help the pinch in your nerves, building up from your stomach and into your heart. Then he answered. 

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Vernon’s voice glitched on the other end of the line, utterly oblivious (as always). Seokmin spoke, hand on his hip: “Hey, just curious, how would you feel if me and your sister started dating?” 

There was a moment of silence. On Vernon’s end, you imagined it was simply puzzled, but on your end, you stood with your heart all big and floaty, like a balloon in your hand, waiting for him to say that he’d hate it, that he’d kill him, and pop your heart with a simple word to prick. That wasn’t what he said though. Vernon said:

“I mean, yeah, man, I’d prefer you over any of those other college douchebags. I at least know you’d take care of her for real, man, not like that Jeonghan guy you were going on about.” 

Your heart balloon took off, and the boundary between you and Seokmin filled itself with sand. Had it been imaginary? This whole time? You couldn’t help the wheeze you left you, overwhelmed with relief and joy. 

“I know, man, Jeonghan’s the worst,” Seokmin said casually, but he was grinning from ear to ear at your reaction. You’d buckled over in silent laughter, unable to contain the glee. It seemed to dramatic now 

“The worst,” Vernon repeated. Then he pursed his lips and spoke again: “So you’re dating my sister?” 

“Uh, you know, I think we’re making it official in a second, yeah,” Seokmin said and even Vernon could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Cool, man, yeah, I kind of figured, she facetimed me with your ugly ass bed sheets in the background, and I thought, no way, a girl would buy those bed sheets.” 

“Lay off my sheets, man.” 

Both of the men laughed and you did too, crying laughing and covering your mouth to contain. Your chest was fluttering with butterflies and light and love.

“Hey, man, for real, if you hurt her, I know where you live, bro,” Vernon was suddenly serious. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, man,” Seokmin responded, equally as serious now. He eyed you, then spoke into the phone again: “Hey, I gotta go make sweet love to your sister.” 

“Ew, dude, don’t say tha-” 

And the phone was hung up and Seokmin was laughing with you, eyes crescent and smile wide and toothy, and cheeks all red and shiny, he doubled over and took your hands in his. “I told you, didn’t I?” 

“Shut up, Lee,” you said, pulling him by the hand and letting him kiss you. Letting yourself kiss him. Letting yourself back into his arms, and this time Seokmin had crossed the border, and had fallen into you, and you stood there together and you were in love. 

So, so in love, your lips entangled and danced together, and your hands dragged up the back of his neck and his up your waist. 

And you realized, his tongue in your mouth, this was how you preferred to remember Seokmin; completely and utterly in love with you, and dancing with you in your room, and smiling into the kiss, and hands running up your body. You preferred to remember him as yours, and yourself as his. 

Seokmin guided you to your bed, pulling your body into his lap. Then he pulled away, completely out of breath, and smiling at you like a twinkling star. 

“Think we can finally break open that condom now?” 

“Fuck yes,” you said.

And then you did.

[comatosebunny09]

kindle | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au

warning(s): language, mutual pining, soft boi leon, stream of consciousness

Leon does these things that confuse the hell out of you while you’re on missions or around the office. You’re his partner—work partner—but sometimes you feel like a little more. More than the younger sibling caught beneath the shadow of an overbearing brother. 

You don’t really know where things are going because he’s made it glaringly obvious in the past that he doesn't mix work with pleasure. However, something’s clearly shifted in your relationship as of late. Yet, you can’t, for the life of you, pinpoint what it is or when it happened. 

Oftentimes, you catch him gazing at you in your peripheral, a fondness inhabiting his eyes like you’ve never seen with the slightest quirk to his lips. That softness remains when a battle-worn thumb swipes blood from your cheek or rubs grime from your jaw. 

Sometimes, he holds your chin between his fingers and tilts your head this way and that—much to your chagrin—to make sure you’re devoid of injuries. Though, you never miss how his irises glitter like the sunset against sea waves, and his lips part a little as he relinquishes the softest, most relieved sigh to the air. And sometimes, you stand like this for eons, confused yet enamored, until the wet garble of a zombie springs you two apart. 

You never miss how a cautious hand finds the small of your back while you’re hunched over paperwork at your desk. How it burns through the thickness of your blazer, causing your heart to work overtime. And Leon beams so boyishly, bowing over to swaddle you in his warmth and cologne as he quips how “you’ve got your work cut out for you.” Yet, as much as he hates filling out reports himself, he stays until the moon sits high in the sky to help you finish. 

He always walks you to your car afterwards, arguing that, shit yeah, you can handle yourself. You suplex the undead for a living. But he’d fling himself off a cliff if his dear partner got snatched up in the parking garage. And he always lingers around a little longer after you pull off, a tender smile cresting across his lips in your rearview mirror. 

But he’s your partner. He’s supposed to do things like that, right? 

Like, he’s supposed to bring you food when you forget to eat—which is quite often. He’s supposed to show up to your apartment to check on you on your days off, promising his company, booze, and terrible romcoms. Supposed to hold you in your bed until you surrender your consciousness to the pretty little girls of slumber. And maybe, just maybe, it’s standard for your partner to kiss you quietly behind your ear and embrace you tighter when you squirm and chuckle and sigh wistfully in your sleep.

Through the wispy haze and the grogginess and the darkness inhabiting your bedroom, you shift to gather his cheeks in your palms—maybe you’re awake. Perhaps you’re still lurking below the shadowy depths of sleep. Who knows—and you kiss him. Cautious, but you kiss him. And though he’s initially thrown off kilter by the suddenness of it all, he relaxes against the suppleness of your lips. And his brows furrow as if he’s waited millennia for this moment. And his throat crackles with a quieted, hoarse sound as his hands perch on your hips, drawing you ever closer until your wrists cross behind his neck, and—

And…

Well, this is totally normal. Right?

part 2 >>

[p0mko100]

complacent - feat. itoshi rin

w/c: 2.5k

synopsis : your brother's friend, rin, comes over after a match to analyse their plays together and hang out. you're busy yelling at your teammates in-game when rin comes in to teach you how to properly aim.

info : NSFW, dom!rin x fem!reader, oneshot, brother's best friend au, smut, gamer!reader, pet names (bunny, princess, good/pretty girl), unprotected sex, slight dry humping, swearing, marking/hickeys, slightly jealous rin, feat. gamer friend!nagi

other : this is my first time uploading my fics here hehe, hope you enjoy!

"Nagi, can you properly smoke off A site for me next time?" The annoyance in your voice seethes through each word.

"M'kay but only if you properly defend the site next time" He retorts.

"Fuck you, Nagi." You sigh, "I'll be back, don't start another match without me I'm gonna get some water". Nagi hums in response as you hear the faint sounds of a Reddit storytime through your headset.

You mute your mic before standing up and stretching your legs, your whole body shaking from the sudden movement. The fabric of your t-shirt reaches your mid-thigh as you ease your body back down. The absence of shorts was so freeing, especially in the brisk afternoons of the blossoming spring season. Unfortunately, your door hinges have been broken ever since you slammed it a little too hard. So when you pull the door open wider, the brief thought of your brother and his friend coming back from their football match enters your mind. You sneak a glance from out of your room, searching for any sign that they're still here when you notice your brother's car keys missing from the bowl near the front door.

Grabbing the empty cup in your room, you step out onto the cold floor of your house with your sights on the kitchen pantry with its newly stocked snacks. With a smile creeping on your face, you open the pantry only to be greeted with… Kikkoman soy sauce and an open multi-pack of instant ramen. The disappointment bites into your stomach. ‘I’ll just steal some of his food when he comes back’ your mind is already planning what he might bring home for himself you.

Luckily, you’re prepared for your annoying brother to do annoying things. Pushing past the random assortment of ingredients and sauces you reach into the cupboard for your hidden stash. You grab your snack and turn around to refill your cup with some water when you hear a creak of the floorboards. Fuck.

Your heart picks up and your eyes follow straight to the turquoise eyes of your brother’s friend, Rin. He’s staring right at you, unsettlingly. It’s not like you guys hate each other, nor are you best friends either. He’s just someone your brother hangs out with, but this is the first time you get to really look at him.

Before, you’d just hide in your room as your brother and his friends would come over, semi-afraid of them and also wanting to give them privacy so your brother could do the same when your friends came over. You’ve seen Rin play when you’d go to your sibling’s matches and his name was often passed around as the best player on his team. However, your brother’s expression would grow stiff with a sense of rage when mentioning Rin’s plays. Jealousy, maybe? Now that he’s standing right there for you to see, you feel embarrassed in the presence of such a highly-praised player.

You dare to look up into his mosaic-like eyes and notice how expressionless he is, as if he were a living portrait. For a moment, you really thought he was inanimate until he furrowed his brows and started to watch each part of you. Analyzing each part of your body like you were prey, he stares at you with that same mundane look on his face.

You quickly turn back to the tap and fill your cup with water, now deadly aware of his stare.

“Hey.” He tries to fill the silence between you two, though his attempt yields more awkward tension than before.

“Uh, hi…”

“You’re uh… his younger sibling?” He asks as if he’s never spoken a word until today. His voice is flat but you can tell there's an air of nervousness around the two of you.

You nod as you begin to walk past him.

“Where’d he go?”

“Somewhere to get take out… I forgot where but, uh, yeah…” He trails off.

God, what is with this awkward silence?

You look back before you walk into the hallway to your room and you see him lean his back against the kitchen countertop, staring into the floor and clasping the sides of his cheekbones with his thumb and index. His dark ivy locks falling above his eyes and the way his body shapes himself against the counter - it’s all so… enamoring.

Glancing at his hand on the countertop, you can only imagine the type of training he does to get his veins running up his forearm like that. The man behind all these super goals - this was him. To avoid his eyes finding yours again, you sneak back into your room, door ajar no matter how many times you try to close it, and now you're back to the light of your monitor and the deafening sounds of the game.

--

Holy shit, she's beautiful.

Rin could barely, fucking, breathe. He knew you were pretty, but he didn't realize you were that pretty. The other members of the team would tease your brother about how they only come over to get a glance at his sister and Rin would scrunch his nose in utter repulse. How could these lukewarm losers ever think of being acknowledged by you? A goddess amongst men. He believed that when the sun hides itself behind the clouds, it's shying away from your radiance. A million lifetimes and yet you exist in his, and oh how lucky he feels to live alongside someone like you.

Almost subconsciously, he walks to your room, his head spinning with all the times your eyes have passed over him during his matches. Whenever he scored, he'd make a quick glance your way, trying to see if you were looking and he was always sourly disappointed when you would be looking at your phone or looking somewhere else. When you were looking, his heart would bounce around his ribcage and his stoic expression would melt into a small smile.

But when you were looking and cheering on for someone else's goal? He'd seethe with malice. His jaw would clench and it didn't matter who had the ball - opponent or not; he'd make sure the next goal would be his.

So, to see you stare at him with your doe eyes, was more than he could take. He watched the way your hair flowed down your scalp, the slight part in your lips, the way your t-shirt covered the parts Rin wanted most, and the scent of lavender in your hair and fresh floral notes on your skin. When his mind started to wander places elsewhere, he had to stop himself from pursuing the thought any further. He wanted so bad to hold you, right there, and feel the way you press against his body. Memorize every part of you.

Before he could process what he was doing, he was already outside your room, leaning against the doorframe. He pushes the door out so you notice him, but your focus is solely on your game. Your legs were perched on your chair and your whole face steeled with concentration. It wasn't until you died, that you noticed he'd been standing out there watching you.

--

"You suck at this game." Rin scoffs.

What is he doing here?

"And you'd be any better?" You glare back at him, but your eyes start wandering and you have to look back at your monitor before blushing at these unyielding thoughts of him.

"Let me play. You're losing anyway." He walks over to you and you begin to notice yourself critically. You begin to notice your legs being squished up against your body as you play or how your posture is harshly curved into a 'C' shape, so you straighten up and start to fiddle with your hair, desperately shaping it into something a little more presentable. Why should I care? He'd never see me like that anyway.

"Fine, one round but if you lose you owe me ice cream." You barter, he nods in response. Satisfied with this deal, you stand up from your chair and watch as he adjusts the chair for himself.

Once the next round starts, his face changes ever so slightly to concentrate on his player movements. Every swipe of the mouse and touch of the keyboard is intentional when he plays, all while being silent. You can hear Nagi through the headset impressed at, what he thinks is, your kill streak. Rin kills the last two guys in quick precise motions that the opponents begin to accuse you of cheating.

"Y/N are you seriously using Aimbot right now?" Nagi asks, dumbfounded at your sudden spike in gameplay.

Rin looks back at you with this smug, self-confident look and you roll your eyes in response.

"Here I'll show you what you're doing wrong." He pats his thigh, motioning you to sit down in his lap. Your heart starts drumming and you sit down on his left thigh. Flustered, your shaky hands grab on the mouse and keyboard to play the next round.

"Uh, is this okay?" You quietly ask, embarrassed as all hell.

"Mhm." He whispers back into your ear and you start to move around to get to a comfortable spot. Your bare thighs are touching his left leg and you can feel his chin resting above his shoulder. When the next round starts, you play as you normally do.

"Here, aim up more." Suddenly, his hand is on top of yours and he aims your crosshair upwards. He's giving you tips on how to play but all you can think about is the way his hand feels against yours. Rougher, but slender and light. He smells of fresh linen and hints of citrus, his body covering yours completely. His arms, fuck, his arms. Strong and muscular, every tendon feeling taught against his shirt. Your fragile heart could barely take it all in. He was overbearingly beautiful.

"Are you even paying attention?" He asks against your ear and you try to move your focus towards the game. His breath was hot against your skin and you tried hard not to think about what it would feel like to indulge in his lips. You find someone camping at their spawn and you shoot, just like you were told. The round ends with you killing the last enemy and you look at him and smile.

He grabs onto your waist, looks back at you, and whispers, "Good girl". His nose is pressed against yours and you're staring into each other's eyes before you move in a little bit closer to hover your lips above his. Moments pass before he hugs your waist tighter and gently places a kiss against your lips. Pure ecstasy. You'd never imagined that this would ever take place, ever - and yet here you are. Kissing Itoshi Rin. You press yourself closer to him, your arms on his shoulders and around the headrest. Permitting yourself to the delicate and slow kisses he leads with, you close your eyes to memorize each movement. You burn the feeling of his hand against your back and the other caressing your thigh into your mind.

Your body aches for him, and his does too. You bite the bottom of his lip, playfully teasing your tongue into his and you start to feel him poking against your thigh. You smile as you kiss him further and when you release your lips from his, you look at his pretty lashes flutter open when he looks back at you. Ah, fuck.

"Please" you whisper into his ear as you grind up against him a little bit more. That's all he needed to hear to slide your panties down, undo his pants and free his needy cock from his boxers.

"Ready, bunny?" He grumbles into your collarbone as you hum a response. His hands place you on top of him, the slick of your wetness and his pre-cum squeezing onto him. Rin's cock twitches as you take him in with gasps and heavy moans. He reaches inside of you, touching the insides of your walls and eagerly trembling for more. Before you can speak, he's already making quick work of your body and easing you up and down.

"Mmngh- R- Rinnie…" He grunts in response and slaps your ass, warranting a moan and for you to clench around him tighter. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other, paired with your beautiful moans were already edging Rin closer and closer.

His cock felt so good. The way it hit the right spots and the way his hands grasped at your body desperately - he made you feel like you were practically melting into him. "You-re a- all mine, okay bunny?" He teases as your pussy tightens around his length. You moan in response and kiss the side of his neck sloppily.

"Fuck, I'm- hngh, close…" He managed to pant out, exasperated by the feeling of your pussy. "Mm~ pl- please… Rin-rin… ple- ah!" He's already bouncing you faster on him, your head spinning with the way he's fucking you. He groans and marks you from your collarbones all the way down to your tits. A knot begins to tighten inside of you and your moans become more erratic and loud as he continues to fuck your insides.

"Come to me, princess." He moans and repeats against your skin and pulls you closer to feel you release against him. You're so tight and he can barely move against your grip as the both of you cum. His warm liquid fills you up, making you feel all sticky inside. "That's a good girl, hm?" He whispers between pants as he slows down and rides out both of your highs. Fuck, he felt so good.

As you begin to kiss him again, you hear your brother's car rumble into the driveway. Ah, shit. Rin rushes to kiss you one more time before sliding you off of him and replacing his cock with his fingers. Your thighs close around his hand as he reaches inside of you again.

"Rinnie- my brother's~ a- ah, he's- mmngh-" His fingers are moving inside and curling perfectly into the spot he just fucked.

"Open wide for me."

Your mouth is open with your tongue out as he places his fingers on your tongue and inside of your mouth. You lick his cum off clean and he pulls your panties back up before zipping his pants back up too. Rin grabs the tissues from your bedside table and wipes the evidence clean. He kisses your forehead and moves your shirt so your brother won't notice all the marks down your collarbone.

"Yo! What're you doing outside my sister's door?" Your brother questions with a bag of takeout in one hand.

"Watching them play that shitty game. They suck at it, by the way." His gaze lingers on you a little longer before following your brother back into his room. Your pussy is still warm and aching from what just happened and it takes a while for you to realize that your team won and Nagi's already pestering you to respond to him before he queues you two into another match.

a/n: aa this is my first time uploading smut hehe I hope you enjoyed! I'd love requests and ideas for more bllk oneshots/ff's :) I adore rin so much hehehe I hope this was enjoyable for any readers out there!

cc: @p0mko100, please do not reupload or redistribute any of my work.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ the babysitter | choso kamo

warnings: normal! au, babysitter! au, fem! reader, choso loves yuji so much and it makes my heart happy, switch! choso, switch! reader, oral sex (m! receiving), heavy use of marijuana, choso is a dick in the first part, hickeys, very lewd language, breeding, unprotected sex, sex while high, making out, mac and cheese, he whines a little bit, degrading if u squint

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.4k

“For a whole ass weekend?” Choso yelled, slamming his hand onto the kitchen table, hissing at the stinging sensation that followed shortly after. He gripped his phone so tightly that it almost cracked the cheap plastic casing surrounding the expensive tech. “You seriously hired a babysitter through the weekend? Why? I’d do it for free, for fucks sake!” He groaned, grumbling profanities under his breath. He didn’t mind that his parents wanted him to watch Yuji while staying at a hotel for a couple of days; he didn’t. But he did mind his parents hiring a babysitter to stay at their house through the weekend to watch Yuji with Choso. He didn’t fucking know who you were. Did his parents even perform a background check on you? Sure, they had always been slightly relaxed, but did they loosen up since he moved onto campus? For all he knew, you could be a serial killer or a felon or really fucking annoying. 

Choso cringed at the sudden height in volume as his mother yelled at him through the phone, lecturing him about getting over his trust issues and just taking it easy for once. Choso mumbled a goodbye and shoved his phone in the back pocket of his ripped black jeans, his violet eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Did he seriously have to put up with a total stranger for a weekend? At least he could hang out with his little brother, and that’s probably the only good thing that could come out of this mess. 

Walking quickly up the stairs, he entered Yuji’s room and found him sleeping peacefully. A small, content smile graced his lips at the sight, the sound of Yuji’s adorable snoring immediately soothing his panicked nerves. Choso bent over his little brother's bed and kissed his forehead carefully as if Yuji could break at any moment. Content with his sleeping sibling, he walked downstairs and flopped onto the sofa, crossing his muscular arms behind his head. He had hit the gym occasionally, but after getting some comments about his offsetting appearance, he had decided that working out in the privacy of his dorm was the best move; Choso didn’t have the energy to tell the dickhead gym bros to go fuck themselves. Who knows, they’d probably enjoy it. 

The doorbell rang, that annoying cheerful tune blaring in Choso’s ear. “Yeah, yeah, hold onto your tits.” He grumbled, pushing himself off the couch to answer the annoying ringing. His eye peered through the peephole, meeting a distorted image of your face. Choso chuckled to himself, finding the image of your distorted expression amusing.

“Hi, it’s Yuji’s babysitter. Your parents mentioned me?” you yelled from outside, slightly muffled by the thick wooden door. Choso reluctantly opened the door to allow you inside, his gaze glued to the tips of his scuffed Doc Martens. “Yeah, about five minutes ago. They should have told me a few days earlier, but you know, parents…” he trailed off, his deep voice barely audible. He held his hand out for you to shake in an ill attempt to converse. “I’m Choso, by the way, Yuji’s older brother.”

Chuckling, you removed your jacket and threw it onto the nearby coat rack. You shook his hand and gave Choso your name, noticing his hands were cold. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Seconds of awkward silence followed, Choso still looking at his feet. “So, where’s Yuji? Do I get to meet the little guy tonight?” you broke the uncomfortable silence, stepping towards the elder brother. 

Choso shook his head adamantly, lifting his unsure gaze from his shoes. He crossed his fit arms and leaned against the painted gray wall covered with family photos, Choso smiling in each of them, albeit softly. “Nah, Yuji’s asleep right now. His bedtime was an hour ago; you would know that if you knew anything.”

Offended at his words, you placed a hand on your hips and shot him a quizzical look. “Hey man, you don’t have to like me but don’t be fucking rude. I care for Yuji’s well-being just as much as you do.” you retorted, a displeased expression crossing your face.

He finally looked at you and sighed, uncrossing his arms. “You’re right, sorry.” Choso noticed that behind your annoyed expression, you had kind eyes and maybe an even kinder heart. Rubbing the back of his neck with his ringed fingers, he licked his bottom lip in a failed attempt to find his words. Despite his alternative presentation, Choso usually had a very extensive vocabulary. So why were his words failing to meet his lips? “I’m…I’m not very trusting around others, especially my baby brother.”

“Well, I’d hardly call him a baby. He’s five years old.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had a degree in being an older brother,” you smirked, sitting on the couch. The material was leather, no doubt Italian. His parents had some money, but you should have assumed that based on the enormous sum they deposited in your bank account a few hours ago.

Choso flashed you a subtle grin and gestured to the kitchen, your charismatic words breaking through his protective persona. “You want something to eat? It’s late, and I dunno if you’ve eaten already.”

“Sure, that sounds good. I only had some ramen to eat anyway,” you said as you stepped into the kitchen, shrugging as you sat down. I don’t do fancy dinners; there’s too much pressure to finish everything. It stresses me out.”

He nodded in agreement and reached into the cabinet above the granite kitchen counters, grabbing a box of instant mac and cheese. “Kraft isn’t too fancy for you, right? Yuji’ll eat anything, but Kraft is his favorite.” Choso chuckled, placing the box on the counter. “I keep it high up so he doesn’t snort the cheese powder, he’s such a little shit.”

“You’re smiling.” you pointed out, poking his cheek with your manicured finger. It was a simple manicure, only a black coat of polish with purple and red dots, but it really did look pretty on you. 

Choso shrugged, took a pot from a nearby drawer, filled it with water, and placed it on an oven burner. After turning up the heat to a medium level, he turned to face you with a neutral expression. “How cheesy do you like it? Mac and cheese, not shitty movies. If you make a joke about shitty movies, I’m going to punch you. His voice was so low that you couldn’t tell if he was joking, but you prayed he was. 

You bit your thumb and raised an eyebrow, subtly grinning at him. “How’d you know I was gonna make a joke, hm? Can you read people really well or something?” You tilted your head to the side, letting your hair fall onto your left shoulder. 

He smirked, noticing that you were pretty adorable under that sassy exterior. It could be a defense mechanism, and Choso couldn’t blame you. He was being a total asshole earlier, so he definitely deserved it. Perhaps he would get along with you more than expected and approve of you as Yuji’s babysitter. “Yeah, I can read people pretty well.” Choso tried not to brag, but that smirk would not disappear from his chapped lips anytime soon. 

“What do you think of me then, hm?” you smiled and pointed at yourself, your necklace dangling off your neck and above your top. 

Choso pretended to think momentarily as the water finally came to a boil, tossing the uncooked noodles into the liquid. “Well,” he spoke, stepping towards you. Choso propped his arm against a cabinet, his muscular form leaning over you in intimidation. “You’re sweet, but you can be pretty mean when you’re defensive and have a kind heart. Children like you and look up to you, and you probably have excellent taste in music.” He raised an eyebrow smugly, his silver piercing reflected in the kitchen's light. “Am I right?”

A blush dusted your supple cheeks, taken aback by his accuracy. Was Choso secretly stalking you or something? “That was…scarily accurate. Are you a psychic or something?” An uncomfortable laugh escaped your plump lips, the blush still lingering. 

Choso shook his head, taking the now-cooked pasta off the stove. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m just smart as hell.” This time, he flashed you a full smirk, tearing open the cheese powder packet with his sharp canines. Your blush grew more intense, your mind catapulting your thoughts into a darker and lustful setting. How would they feel on your neck, raking against your skin? Would Choso be gentle with his nibbling, or would he become beastly and ravage your neck until it was black and bruised? Hopefully, Yuji was a deep sleeper, maybe then the two of you could-

“Hey, you listening? What size portion do you want?” Choso snapped his painted fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your arousing trance. He was much closer to you now. His nose was almost touching your forehead.

“U-uh half, please. Sorry, I was thinking about stuff,” you mumbled, stepping back to create distance. “Sometimes my mind wanders, you know?” 

Choso grunted in agreement, handing you the portion of the mac and cheese. “I added some butter and milk when you weren’t looking, which makes the cheese powder less dry. It’s how Yuji likes it.” He took his fork to his mouth and ate a noodle or two, seeming content with the flavor. “I like to think that even when he’s a bratty teenager, he’ll still like mac and cheese.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a bite of the macaroni as well. Choso was right. The extra butter and milk enriched the flavor of the cheap cheese powder. “I like to think that nobody really outgrows mac and cheese. It’s one of the rare foods that people of all ages enjoy, like toast or apple juice.” you smiled, taking another bite of the meal. “Delicious mac and cheese, by the way. Can we sit down and eat instead of standing? Y’know, like normal people?” you winked and strode to the living room, carefully sitting down to avoid making a mess over the cushions. 

“Oh, right, sorry.” He mumbled, sitting down next to you. His shoulder brushed against yours, and your eyes drifted to his bicep muscles, admiring his strength. Most alternative guys you knew were slim, but Choos was different. He was really different, and that was fucking sexy. “So, are you in school also? I’m a junior at Tokai University. I’m studying biomedical engineering.” He sighed, placing the bowl of mac and cheese in his lap. “It’s fucking hard work, but it’ll be worth it when I’m rich as hell and can buy things.” 

You placed your empty bowl on the coffee table, wiping the cheesy residue from the corner of your mouth. “Oh, I’m taking online classes through a program. I’m studying child psychology.” you nodded, sucking your fingers clean with your mouth and tongue. Choso bit his pierced lip slightly at the seemingly innocent display, blinking away his perverted thoughts about you. You were just Yuji’s babysitter, right? It was cliche as hell for the older brother to want to fuck the babysitter, but maybe it was a cliche for a reason.

“Child psychology, that makes sense. Maybe that’s why you’re such a good babysitter so far,” he observed, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I mean, I haven’t really done anything yet. Yuji’s still asleep upstairs.” you pointed out, taking Choso’s bowl out of his hands. “I’ll clean up, I don’t mind.”

He raised an eyebrow and slowly nodded, shifting his position on the couch slightly. “If you’re offering, I won’t stop you. Go wild.” His deep voice rumbled in your ear, diverting your thoughts to the dirty ones you had earlier.

Hunched over the kitchen sink, you scrubbed the pot and the bowls clean, humming your favorite song softly. Choso remained in the living room, staring blankly as the newscaster predicted the next morning's weather. “Hey, it’s gonna rain. What do kids Yuji’s age like to do when it rains?” he asked over his shoulder, not getting up. 

“Same thing they do when it’s not raining,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm as the last dishes were dried off and placed in their original drawers. “Run around screaming because they’re five and don’t experience fatigue like we do.” you sat yourself down next to Choso again, this time slightly closer. “Listen, your parents paid me through the weekend, so I’m spending the night. Wanna watch a movie or something? I don’t mean to be rude, but I am very bored.” 

Choso chuckled and looked at you with his violet eyes again, a smirk on his lips. “Well, we could do something that would help you relax.” his voice flowed like warm honey, hinting at something much more devious than you had realized. “You ever smoke before, sweetheart?”

You nodded and kicked your feet onto the coffee table, hoping he wouldn’t mind. “Once, when I was in high school. We smoked under a bridge ‘cuz our parents were being dickheads,” you laughed to yourself, fondly remembering what took place a couple of years ago. “I have such a low tolerance. It only took a couple of hits of a joint for me to get high.” A grin remained on your face, the happy memories lightening your mood. “I felt like I was floating.”

“Yeah, weed does that to you. It’s nice, though, right? Like all your worries go away.” Choso stood up, slapping his thighs. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you observed him walking up the stairs. The sound of rummaging from his room was undoubtedly the result of him anxiously shifting through his nightstand drawer to find what he was looking for. After a couple of minutes, he yelled for you to come upstairs.

“Shouldn’t you be quiet? Yuji’s sleeping just a few doors down.” you whisper-shouted, voice filled with concern. 

Choso laughed and shut the door behind you, opening the window close to his bed. “Please, that little guy could sleep through an earthquake. Don’t worry about it, that’s my job. I’m his older brother, after all.” he dangled a baggie in front of your face, the contents having a powerful aroma. “Behold, stuff of the gods.”

Sitting on his bed, you rolled your eyes playfully at his childish demeanor. “I’m sure it’s incredible stuff, Choso. Better help me relax, or I’ll be pretty upset.” 

“Trust me, sweetheart, this shit will make you float into the sky,” Choso smirked, taking the bud out of the baggie. “Don’t look. I can’t reveal my secrets to you just yet.”

Your hands covered your eyes as you giggled, imagining what he was doing. “You aren’t lacing it or anything, right?”

“Fuck no, I’m rolling a joint. Whoever invented laced shit needs to get their dick chopped off.”

You giggled once more. “What if it was a woman, hm?” you inquired sarcastically, your hands still covering your eyes.

“No woman would ever create something that fucked up, no offense,” Choso muttered, finishing up with the two joints. “You can open your eyes now; it’s okay.”

Your hands left your eyes and landed on the two joints in Choso’s hands. They were smaller than expected, or maybe Choso just had huge hands. “Uh, you’re gonna have to guide me through the process. I haven’t done this since high school, remember?” you rubbed your arm with your hand, silently hoping he wouldn’t think you weren’t cool. Why did you want Choso to think you were cool? You were only staying so you could look after Yuji. 

Choso sat down next to you and patted your shoulder in reassurance. “Don’t worry about it. Even though I’m an asshole, I’m not that big of an asshole. I’ll show you.” He grabbed a lighter from his nightstand and held it to the joint, lighting the end of it like a cigarette. “You inhale, hold the smoke in your body for as long as you can, and breathe it out. It’ll make you cough, but that’s just what weed does. It still makes me cough.” he chuckled, putting the joint to his lips and sharply inhaling. You observed as he sucked in his chest for a few moments before breathing out the smoke, the scent of marijuana quickly filling the room.

“Shit, that’s good stuff,” he mumbled, passing the joint to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just saying. None of that peer pressure shit here.” his violet eyes were slanted, making your heartbeat quicken.

“No, I’ll do it. God knows I could use the relaxation. Shit’s been tough.” you sighed and took the joint from his tattooed hand, putting it to your lips. Squeezing your eyes shut, you inhaled deeply. Your eyes shot open after only a second, coughing harshly. “Fuck!” you grunted, handing the joint back to Choso. “Ow, my lungs! Well, there goes my hopes of being an organ donor. Fuck.” you giggled, hugging your knees to your soft chest. The scoop-neck top you wore showed off your cleavage beautifully, and Choso couldn’t help but stare. Your breasts look so smooth and round. He wondered if you would let him touch them, graze his thumb over your nipple, and let his mouth suck careful bruises onto the supple flesh. 

“Yeah, there it fucking goes.” he chuckled and took another hit of the joint, setting it down in his ashtray after. His mind started to feel fuzzy, almost soft. Like he was floating on a cloud made up of the finest cotton money could buy. Did you feel this way as well? Were you also floating on a cloud?

Your head began to feel light as a feather, and a delighted smile crossed your face. “Dude, it feels like I don’t weigh anything at all,” you laughed, leaning towards Choso. You observed the bags under his eyes and how his eyeliner was thick and dark, highlighting the golden specks in his purple irises. “D’ya also feel like that, Cho’?”

His name poured out of your mouth, smooth as honey. God, he loved how you said his name. It was probably the sexiest thing he’d ever heard, and he just had to hear more. “Yeah, sweetheart, feeling fucking amazing,” he spoke gently, a blush tinting his pale face at the proximity between you two. “I wanna feel like this all the time, but I have stupid fucking responsibilities like school. Not Yuji, though. Yuji will never be a burden for me.”

You smiled and rested your head on his broad shoulder, enjoying how close the two of you were. “You’re such a great brother, you know that? Yuji’s lucky to have you, Cho’.”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Choso mumbled deeply, shifting his gaze toward your pretty and flushed face. “If you keep saying my name like that, I might lose it.” he offered you a crooked smile, his sharp canine poking out. “Got a real pretty voice. It matches your pretty face.” his thumb grazed over your lower lip, admiring its beauty.

“Choso,” you breathed out, feeling so small under his lustful gaze. The way his thumb touched your bottom lip, the way his deep and sensual voice reverberated in your ears. Maybe it was the weed fixing your thoughts, but damn, was Choso sexy as all hell. “You’re pretty, too.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow, tilting your head with his thumb. Fuck, he loved your eyes. They were so big and beautiful, so expressive. “You think I’m pretty, sweetheart?” his hands trailed down to your hip, squeezing the denim fabric of your jeans. 

“Yeah, I do,” you smirked softly, climbing into his lap. You straddled his thighs and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, staring into his sunken eyes. “I think you’re pretty and sexy, Cho’.”

His arms snaked around your waist to pull you close to his chest; your breasts pushed up against his graphic tank top. “Shit, sweetheart. Keep saying my name like that, and you’ll regret it,” he growled, your plump lips hovering above his chapped ones. His hands squeezed your ass bolding, his eyes daring you to make the next move.

“Cho’,” you whispered, entangling your fingers in the silver chains around his thick neck. “Do something, Cho’.” 

“Fucking hell,” Choso slammed his lips against yours in a molten and desperate kiss, his hands squeezing the fat of your ass even harder. His kiss is filled with desire and want, along with the faintest scent of marijuana that makes the atmosphere of his bedroom that much more depraved. Longing dripped from the plush of his chapped lips to the sharpness of his canines that grazed slowly against your lips, teasing you with a tapering sensation. 

Choso tutted impatiently, his lips becoming more aggressive and desperate. It was like his mouth was trying to consume yours in a fiery passion you thought only existed in television shows. Your heated bodies pressed against each other in a frenzy, your hands moving from his chain necklace to lace themselves in his messy dark hair, tugging harshly on the strands. You could practically taste the marijuana on his breath, feeling the thud of his heartbeat in his throat.

Frantic groans left your lips as Choso’s tongue swept across your lower lip, pleading for entrance. You gladly parted your lips, his tongue briefly entangling with yours before retreating entirely. He broke the kiss, his breathing shallow and long. The thinnest string of saliva connected you, breaking as Choso licked his lips. 

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, the tension in the air slowly fading away. Second felt like hours, passion roaring inside both of you. Choso gave you a smug grin, his hands still glued to your hips. “What did you think of that, sweetheart? Is making out while high one of the best things life has to offer or what?” his words faded at the end, his mouth pressing fluttering kisses onto your neck. Your breath stopped in your throat at the intoxicating sensation. 

“Please,” he whispered, teeth nipping down on the spot just above your collarbone. His voice was so deep yet whiny, filled with desire for you, the sexiest person he’d ever lay his eyes upon. “Please, sweetheart, let me make you see stars tonight.”

You frantically nodded, cupping his cheeks with your hands to crash your lips against his in a passionate craze. The kiss was rough and full of ache, your lips battling each other for dominance and control. Choso’s rough hands gripped onto your hips with knuckle-whitening might, dragging you up and down onto his throbbing bulge. His teeth bite down on your bottom lip, pulling the sensitive flesh while staring into your glistening eyes. He pulled himself away from the foggy exchange and attacked your neck, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he could land himself on. 

Your mouth let wanton moans escape your bruised lips, still grinding yourself on Choso’s lap. Desire pooled in your core, your body rutting itself against him for any kind of relief as he continued to assault your neck with a battery of bites and nibbles. “Fuck!” you cried out, not bothering to control your volume. “Fucking love it rough. How’d you know that?” you demanded, pulling Choso away from your neck by his midnight strands. 

“It was so fucking obvious, baby. You were basically begging me to fuck you with those pretty bedroom eyes of yours.” Choso growled in your ear, his pierced tongue licking the shell. He thrust his clothed erection up against your covered core, forcing you to grind down on the pulsating length. “You feel what you do to me, yeah? You feel how fucking hard this cock is for you?”

You gasped as he dragged you across his clothed member, noticing how fucking girthy he was. “Shit, you’re really fucking hard. I really did all that?” you whimpered as he groped your breasts, his thumb circling over your covered nipple. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, you did,” his voice ached for you, so desperate for release. He knew you felt this way, too. Your pussy was sending him pulsating signals. “God, I need to know how that pretty mouth looks wrapped around me. Can you get on your knees, sweetheart, pretty please?” he mumbled, taking his greedy hands off your curves.

You were on your knees instantly, thumbing the hem of Choso’s sweatpants teasingly. “Don’t fucking tease me, baby,” he spat, pulling his sweatpants down to his knees. You rolled down the fabric and tossed it aside, your eyes locking on his boxers that had a cute little stain right where the tip of his cock was. “See that, sweetheart? Making me pre’ in my drawers. C’mon, hurry up and put that pretty mouth on it.” he demanded, his hand tugging on your hair in demand. 

Your hands pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, not tearing your eyes away from Choso’s massive cock. It was bigger than any of the ones you’d seen before, and it was freakishly girthy, maybe about ten inches. The head was a beautiful shade of pink, adorned with precum leaking out the tip. “Someone’s needy,” you teased in a lyrical voice, pumping his cock a few times before taking just the tip in your mouth. Your tongue danced around the head and gave it the occasional kitten lick, eliciting a gasping moan from Choso. 

A few more inches was all that your mouth could take, gagging as the head hit the back of your sensitive throat over and over again. Your hand made up for what your mouth couldn’t handle, palming and squeezing on the shaft to make Choso sing those pretty moans over and over again. His grip on your hair hadn’t yet faltered, squeezing your roots the perfect amount so you weren’t feeling any pain. Sloppy, absolutely filthy sounds came from your precious lips as your mouth grew sore and tired, practically fucking your mouth on his length.

Just as Choso’s orgasm approached, he forcefully pulled your head away from his cock. He hissed at the sensation of the cold bedroom air hitting his previous warm cock, wondering if he should just let you keep sucking him off. “N-no, wanna cum inside you. Is that okay, sweetheart?” he whined, spreading his legs. His cock was glistening with your saliva, slapped against his now-stained tank top. “Ride me, baby, want you to fucking ride me.”

You smirked softly and pulled down your jeans and underwear, revealing your soaked heat. “What happened to the tough guy earlier, hm?” you purred into his ear, nibbling on one of his piercings as you hovered above his entrance, his wanting moans and whimpers sounding incredibly delicious. 

“Tough guy went away the second you put that slutty little mouth on my cock,” he grabbed onto your hips, forcefully slamming you down on his cock. The two of you gasped at the same time, a twinge of pain crossing your face. “Now hurry up and fuck me already.” his voice sounded dominant, but you knew deep down how desperate he indeed was. The warmth of your weeping cunt enveloped him, and his lips began to tremble.

“Shit! Fuck, you’re huge!” you cried out, taking a moment for your pussy to adjust to his size. He was huge and throbbing so intensely inside of you that it felt like a vibrator. Shaking, you clutched onto his shoulders and began to grind back and forth. His hands were practically glued onto your soft hips, matching the painfully slow pace of your movements.

Choso grunted impatiently, tightening his grip on your hips so they would be bruised tomorrow morning. “Going too fucking slow, sweetheart. Can’t handle my huge dick or something?” he whispered against your neck, his tongue licking the hickeys he had left previously. His cock was buried inside your gummy walls, twitching and in desperate need of friction. 

You yelped out pathetically as Choso began to move your trembling form up and down on his length, adoring the squelching sounds that came out of your sobbing heat. Your breathing was quicked and paced, huffs and puffs leaving your pretty mouth. “H-hah, Cho’! Fuck, fuck me! Shit, oh my fucking god!” you sobbed, your walls tightening around his cock as he continued to use your body like a fleshlight. 

The sound of skin slapping against the skin was all that could be heard, along with the sound of your wanton mewls escaping your puffy lips. “Shit, you’re such a fucking good slut for me, yeah?” Choso grunted, his face buried in the crook of your neck that connected your shoulders. “Letting me use this perfect fucking pussy, why did I ever fucking doubt you?” he lifted his face from your neck, smirking at your fucked out expression. Your eyes glazed over, mouth hanging open, hair completely disheveled. Just how he fucking liked it.

The head of his cock pounded mercilessly at your G-spot, the slick whimpers and wines you made becoming music to his ears. He knew you were close the way your weeping heat sucked him in, almost demanding that he shoot his seed as far into you as he could. 

“Shit, are you close sweetheart. Me too, fuck,” he sighed, bucking his hips into yours staggeringly and without rhythm, desperately chasing his nirvana. “Cum with me, yeah? Please, baby, I wanna feel you let go for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Can you make a fucking mess on this cock?”

“Yes, fuck, yes! Cho’, oh fuck!” you screamed as your orgasm finally hit you, entire euphoria flowing through every single one of your veins. Your nails scratched and clawed at his back from under his shirt, your hands desperately looking for purchase. Your aching body twitched against his own, his cock still fucking up into your overstimulated pussy.

Choso threw his head back, opening his mouth to allow his breathy moans to escape from his throat. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum, shit! Gonna cum inside, yeah? Gonna fucking fill you up so nicely, shit! Fuck!” he groaned, finally achieving his high. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him as his hot and sticky ropes of cum coated your insides, the feeling of warmth making you feel all the more wonderful.

After the shockwaves of your orgasms subsided, Choso tilted his head back down to look at your face. All flushed and fucked out, the baby hairs in your widows peak sticking to your forehead. But his favorite part was the smile you had plastered across your face, looking the happiest he’d ever seen anyone before. 

“You were so right,” you breathed, kissing his lips tenderly.”Fucking while high is one of the best things ever.”

He chuckled and reluctantly pulled you off his cock, whining as he saw his seed spill from your core. “Damn, I really thought that would stick. Oh well,” he sighed, pushing himself off his bed in search of his boxers. “There’s always next time.”

You raised an eyebrow quizically, putting on your panties. Your sweatpants were probably in the room, but you were too tired to get them. “What do you mean ‘next time’?” 

Choso smirked and sat back down on his bed, making grabby hands at you. “Y’know, the next time we fuck, obviously.” he kissed your cheek as you curled up beside him, pulling the covers over the both of you for warmth. “Do…do you not want a second time?” his voice was soft, trying to mask the hint of disappointment in his tone.

You shook your head and pecked him on the lips, giggling at the cool metal piercing, making contact with the bruise on your lower lip. “Of course I want there to be a next time, silly. You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.” 

He smiled and pulled you even closer to his muscular form, squeezing you like you would run away if he didn’t. “I’m so glad that’s happening, sweetheart.” his voice was heavy and sleepy, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep right next to you.

“Let’s just get some sleep, okay? Fucking takes up a lot of energy.” Closing your eyes, you welcomed the warmth that overtook your body, Choso’s strong arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

There was a sudden knock on the door, snapping your eyes open and Choso’s violet ones. 

“Choso, can I please get some water? I’m really thirsty.” a high-pitched voice came from the other side of Yuji's wooden door.

Choso groaned and sat up, his arms still not leaving your body. “Well, we’re lucky he didn’t want water ten minutes ago.” he laughed softly, kissing you on the forehead as he got up.

“Yeah, good thing he didn’t.”

[featherlouise]

Exploring some concepts for a slightly older Ghost!! I imagine them as about 8-9ish during the game.

I’ve been neglecting them in most of my AUs lmao, I think it’s time for some Ghost centric stuff shxhxjxj (also they’re VERY fun to draw)

After killing the Radiance, the siblings take some time to rest and recuperate, and at some point decide to try and rebuild Hallownest. Hornet takes over Deepnest, taking her rightful place as Queen, while Hollow becomes king of Hallownest. While Ghost is technically the crown prince, it’s more in name than anything, as they would rather run the Path of Pain handcuffed in the dark than have that kinda responsibility (also they’re like. 13 by this point)

Some tidbits about their design and this AU for those interested:

- They resemble their mother more than PK, and as a result their horns are more like branches and grow to resemble antlers!!

- They also have a faint wood grain pattern all over their body

- Vessels typically have small glowing white dots on their bodies, and darker spots on their face and horns (I’ve been referring to them as soul spots and void freckles shbxxn), and you can generally tell whether they’re more proficient in soul magic or void magic depending on how many of either they have!!

(E.g. Hollow has a few void freckles, but they are COVERED in soul spots, meanwhile Ghost has a few soul spots but they have a TON of void freckles).

When they come into their power as Shade Lord, Ghost’s soul spots are swallowed by their void, and as they get older more void freckles appear until their horns are entirely black.

- I like the idea of Ghost’s power as SL showing in their physical form more as they get older, like their mortal body can’t contain their entire being, so it leaks out in the form of wispy void hair, void freckles, etc etc

- When they started rebuilding, there became a sudden need for formal clothing once again, so Hornet raids every closet in the White Palace to cannibalise the different dresses and robes into something presentable (luckily Ghost fits into most of Hornet’s old stuff)

(Assume the White Palace appears again at some point (finding PK’s corpse is a VERY fun time for Holly ahahaha))

- With the discovery of kingdoms beyond the Wastelands (via Silksong), the siblings start reaching out in the hopes of establishing some trade routes, and getting some help with the rebuilding effort

This opens some opportunities for visits from neighbouring royals (and pooossibly some new friends for Ghost, they need to meet people their age lmaooo)

[pillowspace]

HI….👉👈 AM I ALLOWED TO ASK ABOUT YOUR SIBLINGS AU????

sooo so curious if you have an facts or tidbits to share like! whats their dynamic like? is there any Backstory to this oooor just for fun? i am. very very interested ehe

(only if u want to tho!!)

(About this post and this post)

Mmmm! Let me see what I can think of!

Mal's full first name is Maldu. I imagine everyone would call them Mal except for Odile, since she calls Bonnie Boniface, and would presumably call Mal "Maldu."

Mal is like 12-15, I'm not really strict on the exact age. Since Mal would be the second youngest, they would probably like following Bonnie around even if Mal doesn't really know how to "play" or anything. They just kinda... stand there and try to curiously mirror whatever Bonnie does.

Mal is a bit quiet. They can speak, but they don't do so often, and are more likely to speak when they're upset than when they're pleased.

The red star that hangs from their bandana cannot be seen in colour unless Mal is especially upset. Not the most upset of their life like Siffrin, but even just a big cry could cause the star to shine for everyone to see.

Mal is very sensitive and cries easily. Siffrin's grown practiced at calming them down but still gets freaked out by the sudden tears.

Mal likes quietly watching and listening. They enjoy being taught by their allies how to perform certain tasks, and will give that wide-eyed look of a silent "really??" when praised for doing something right. They soak up praise like a sponge due to a perpetual feeling of doing something wrong.

While their right eye spirals, Mal's left iris is entirely white! It's usually covered by the slanted hat, however.

And! I hadn't actually really thought of a backstory until just now, but does this work? I think it maybe could

Siffrin accidentally created Mal through Wish Craft when he had a mental breakdown as a child/teen soon after the northern island's disappearance, though neither of them know this, and they did not meet until a couple years after this happened. Mal's existence slowly came to be with a clear understanding that they existed for a reason, but they weren't sure why. When Siffrin and Mal eventually crossed paths, it was like finding a second half that you hadn't even realized you had lost. Though even after meeting, the two are still unsure of how this happened to begin with. As far as Siffrin's concerned, the two just "clicked," and does not remember the breakdown. Meanwhile Mal's not really sure where they came from or what they are, but they gladly latch onto the protection Siffrin offers.

Mal is simultaneously an extension of Siffrin, and a separate being entirely. Mal was made from Siffrin's soul, even if Siffrin hadn't meant to share himself like that. When one is hurt, the other shares the echoes of their pain. Mal likely severely panicked when Siffrin lost the eye, and the echoing pain in Mal's own head surely didn't help. If ONE panicked kid (Bonnie) wasn't enough, you also get TWO in this AU! Congrats!

Since Mal was created from Siffrin's distraught state, it reflects through Mal in certain ways. How sensitive they are, how timid they are, their unease, their anxiety, etc. Siffrin's helping Mal every step of the way though, and is very protective of them, urging his allies to be gentle with them.