#and none of them were the same as my answer loll

[greetingsfromrivain]

Reading all the tags for that werewolf poll and people’s various explanations is making me think of like, a sitcom style fic where everyone gets bitten by a werewolf and they’re all hiding it from each other loll

[the-californicationist]

i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.

lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!

"The Window" (141/Reader)

You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.  

He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,

“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”

So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well. 

“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”

“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.

“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled. 

“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname. 

“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.” 

“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door. 

“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.

“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.

“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.

“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation. 

“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen. 

So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate. 

There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.

“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”

“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,

“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”

He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis. 

But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages. 

When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare? 

And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound. 

And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand. 

You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt. 

It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised. 

Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand. 

Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load. 

Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened. 

“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”

“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”

“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”

Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission. 

They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking. 

“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into. 

“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”

 He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually. 

“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”

“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”

Price chuckled warmly,

“That boy wants a baby so badly.”

You smiled with him, agreeing, 

“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!” 

Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,

“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”

You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed, 

“You’d be good.”

His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,

“D’you think so, Sparrow?”

“I know so.”

“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing. 

You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy, 

“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”

You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,

“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes. 

When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated. 

He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time. 

“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”

Part 2

[hajimeseyo]

“Tell me something about yourself that not many people know.”

“What's this?” he asks, voice laced with amusement.

“Just answer me, ‘tsuya.” you grumble, head lolling over the side of the bed you're currently spread out on, peering at his upside down figure. “I'm bored.”

Mitsuya hums thoughtfully, pen tapping against the table absentmindedly. Both your homeworks lay abandoned on his table, you having already given up a long time ago and pestering him to do the same, despite his best efforts to stay focused and finish them.

“I have a dragon tattoo on the side of my head.” he says casually.

“WHAT?????” you leap up from your spread-eagle position to gape at him properly. His lips curl into an impish grin at your reaction, the sight sending butterflies flying through your stomach. You swat them away in favour of focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. 

“Yeah.” His hand comes up to tap at the right side of his head. “Right here.”

You scramble off the bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush to his side. “Whaaat the fuck. You're the last person I'd expect to ever have a tattoo.” you say as you pull up your chair next to him, plopping down on it.

He huffs in amusement. “I am in a gang, y'know.” 

“I know, but you're like, more well behaved compared to them.” You pause, peering at his face suspiciously. “...right?”

A mischievous smile is all you get in response.

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the side of his head, peering closely at the short lilac hair, trying to catch a glimpse of the tattoo. You can't see anything, though, due to all the hair fully covering it.

“Can I…?” you raise your hand hesitantly. He nods, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to where the tattoo supposedly lies, the warm touch sending sparks flying through your skin.

Carefully, your fingers gently part his hair to reveal the scalp below. The slight shiver as your fingers make contact with his head doesn't go unnoticed by you, although none of you say a word.

And there, under the lilac strands, you catch glimpses of furling strands of black ink, coiling and curling into something resembling—

“A dragon?” you murmur.

Mitsuya hums. “Mhm. I designed it myself. Cool, huh?” You can hear the pride in his voice.

You snort, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I suppose.” Following the strands of ink, you trace down the side of his scalp, mesmerized by the intricate design. Despite your seemingly unimpressed response, you found the tattoo really beautiful, the art style unique and artistic, the way it curves along the side of Mitsuya's head so naturally you wouldn't be surprised if he said he was born with it. Lost in your concentration, you don't notice Mitsuya's slowly reddening cheeks, closing his eyes as his head subconsciously leans into your gentle touch.

The two of you stay like that for a while, in comfortable silence, him enjoying your ministrations, you too absorbed in admiring every detail of the tattoo to notice. 

Until you trace the final curl of the dragon's tail, the trail ending making you snap out of whatever trance you were in, face immediately flushing a deep red as you realized you probably spent way more time touching him than you should've. Your hand instantly jolts back from his head as if it touched hot iron. At the loss of your touch, Mitsuya's eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing lazily at you, the sight once again sending some weird, hot feeling shooting through you. Damn this man and his stupidly pretty face.

You clear your throat, trying to act natural. “Why have a tattoo when you can't even see it under all that hair, though?” 

That question catches him off guard, and he barks out a laugh. “There's a funny story behind it, actually.”

He goes on to tell you the story of how he got the tattoo, from meeting this boy called Draken, to playing games at the brothel, to deciding to become a delinquent and accidentally matching tattoos with Draken. Your jaw dropped more and more as the story progressed, mostly from how unexpected and wild the entire thing was.

“Damn.” you laugh when he finishes. “And here I thought you were this good, well-behaved child who got roped into the gang business by their friends. I mean, abandoning your sisters to graffiti a wall?” you shake your head in mock disapproval. “What a bad child you are.” 

His lips stretch into a sly grin, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Oh? Really, [name], you should've known by now.”

He leans forward until his lips are right by your ear, voice coming out in a teasing whisper.

“I can get quite naughty sometimes.” 

...

You're quite certain your face is in flames. 

You sit there, short-circuiting, as Mitsuya leans back into his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Fumbling, you glance around desperately from something that will save you, and your eyes land on the abandoned exercise books on the table, the whole reason you were at Mitsuya's house in the first place. 

“Oh! Would you look at that! Our homework! That we still have to finish!” You pull your chair back to the other side of the table hurriedly and bury your face in the books, your homework suddenly being the most interesting thing in the world. You hear him chuckle, but he doesn't say anything, picking up his pen and continuing with his work. Your heart finally stops racing, and you think that you're safe until—

“[name]?”

“Hm?”

“I enjoyed that very much. Feel free to do it again if you want~”

“...”

This boy is going to be the death of you.

(part 2 here!)

[fallenclan]

// death is a pretty big theme in this fic, so yeah.

// part 2 of my first silverbelly fic and i would super appreciate if u could link the first one because i can't for some reason LOLL

"Here," Silverbelly says, holding out a few blue berries on her paw. "There were extra."

"What do I do with them?" Flypaw stares at her, round eyes wide.

"I don't mind," she replies. Then, she walks off to go congratulate Wormshade.

The next day, she wakes up, checks on her kids, and Flypaw has the berries tucked right behind his ear. She has no doubts that Mudpaw was the one who helped him put it there.

She goes about her day as normal. Rearranges her herbs, shares a rabbit with Applebranch and Maplethorn (who is exhausted of constantly third wheeling them), and shows Stormkit the herbs.

She cleared out Sunwish's nest the day after her vigil. Cleared out the scatteredly organized herbs, and tried not to stare at Scorchstar too much.

Scorchstar didn't share tongues with Sunwish before her death, and she didn't bring her body back to camp. It's not like they were close in the way Honeygleam and Dawnshine were, where their scents tended to rub off on eachother. In fact, she's fairly sure that she's only seen Scorchstar and Sunwish speaking a total of seven times in as many moons.

Scorchstar being in her pelt made no sense.

It was a mystery in the same way that Ivyleaf and Otterslip look uncannily alike. Neither of them ever addressed this, but it was obvious they were somehow related to eachother.

She recalls the vision, of the line of blood trailing from one rock to the next. The glinting of amber eyes and blood trapped between claws.

--

She's digging through the snow, desparate. Damp leaves stick on her paws.

"Where is he?" Wormshade wails.

"We'll find him," Honeygleam says. "He can't have gone far."

Avalanches were one of the dangers lying in wait. With the changing seasons came fluctuating warmth, resulting in the toppling snow and rock that came hurtling down the mountain moments ago.

She stares at where Goldenflare is attempting to comfort a shocked patrol. Curly and Oaktuft look shellshocked, eyes blown wide.

"What's going on?"

"The avalanche- it-" Curly's breath hitches. "We got lucky. We- we're fine. But- stars, Nick."

Wormshade stares at her. "What happened to him?"

"Oh, Wormshade," Curly breathes. "He got trapped. The snow caught him before we could get him out of the way."

Oaktuft and Curly lead the four to a ledge, where there is a pile of snow and one snow covered, gray limb sticking out of the pile. Wormshade stops breathing next to her.

--

Scarcely a week later, tragedy strikes again. They're still trying to go back to normal, and then Scorchstar doesn't return from her walks.

Goldenflare turns to her. "She's been so distant lately. I don't know where she is or what she might be doing."

"Send a patrol out to find her," Silverbelly says. "I have to meet Lakelily at the border, we're trading some juniper for thyme. I'll keep a look out for her there."

"Thank you," Goldenflare says.

And when she returns, a small group of cats are huddled around a bloodied brown body in the clearing, and Silverbelly knows what's just happened.

--

"Are you ready?" She asks.

Goldenflare stiffly nods. His tail nervously lashes from the sides.

"You'll do fine," she says.

"I'm not ready," he whispers. "I keep getting cats hurt."

"Is this about Morningbloom?"

He falls silent, and she has her answer.

"I couldn't protect Nettlestem, or Sunwish, or Scorchstar. I couldn't even protect my mate. How am I meant to protect a whole clan's worth of cats?"

"None of those events were your fault," Silverbelly briskly says. "You know exactly how they all died. Nettlestem was ambushed by a rogue on a peaceful walk. Sunwish was murdered. Scorchstar was mauled by dogs. Stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control."

He stares at her. "When did you get so smart?"

"I think parenthood had something to do with it," she snorts. "Dip your muzzle in the water and sleep will come. You'll wake up in Silverpelt."

"How do I know they'll accept me?"

"You won't."

--

Morningbloom is the first. (Stars, make him a mess for the rest of the ceremony, why don't you?)

"With this life, I give you sympathy," Morningbloom chokes out. Her eyes are round with longing and grief. "Use it to understand, from the strongest warrior to the youngest kit to the oldest elder."

Goldenflare stares at her, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"It's not your fault," she whispers. "It's never been your fault."

Silverbelly feels like she's intruding on such a moment.

She steps back into the crowd, and Goldenflare takes one step after her then stops, staring at the star speckled ground. His eyes clench shut as the next cat walks to him.

Other cats walk up to him. Nettlestem, Wildfang, Nick. Tawnyash and Rum Tum Tugger are a surprising addition. Breezeshadow approaches, her starlit eyes as kind as ever.

Finally, Scorchstar steps forward. "I've had many regrets in my leadership. Making you my deputy was not one of them."

Goldenflare stares at her, murmurs something Silverbelly can't quite make out. Scorchstar nods once, a tiny movement she would have missed if she wasn't looking closely.

"With this life, I give you leadership during the darkest times. Persist, even when tragedy strikes. Never falter, never give up. You have a duty to these cats."

Goldenstar jolts as her muzzle rests on his head.

"Your old life is no more," Scorchstar says. "It's your duty to guard Fallenclan, now. Use your new power wisely."

Morningbloom breaks the careful silence with a yowl. "Goldenstar! Goldenstar!"

The rest of the star speckled cats chime in, and Silverbelly awakes in the glow cave.

--

"Silverbelly?"

She turns at the noise. Stormkit is staring at her, with his giant copper eyes.

"Yes?" She sets down her pile of poppy seeds on a leaf. "Can I help you?"

"I don't wanna be a warrior. Is that bad?"

She's taken aback by his wavering tone. "No, honey, of course not."

"It's just that-" he stiffly stops in the middle of his sentence. "Hailkit and Goosekit and Moonkit all wannna be warriors but I like plants and fixing scrapes and cuts. I like learning about the cool stuff you do. I don't wanna hurt cats, I want to help them!"

She listens sympathetically. She had her own doubts at his age. All anyone her age talked about were fighting moves or catching cool birds, and she just liked the clovers that grew in the leader's den.

"You could be my apprentice," she says. "I could teach you everything I know about herbs and plants and the stars."

"Really?" Stormkit's eyes grow round.

"Really," she purrs. "You'd be great at it, you're already such a big help."

Privately, there's another reason she goes to Goldenstar and tells him she's chosen Stormkit to be her first apprentice.

--

Since Stormpaw has become her apprentice, the brief flashes of the future that the stars bless her with have become more vivid. More real.

She wants to think it's a good thing, that she's becoming more in tune with her ancestors and the mystifying words they give her. In reality, she feels like she's hardly sleeping.

When she wakes up, there is moss scattered over her den. Her first instinct is to find Stormpaw, and he's one nest over, nestled under the rock that she puts lungwort on.

He's taken to his apprenticeship like eagles to the sky. He loves the herbs, the smells don't bother him, and Toro frequently has to groom leaves out of his pelt. He retains everything she tells him, and always makes sure the herbs are organized in just the way she likes them.

One day, this den will be his. He can organize the herbs however he'd like, and he can sleep under the lichen instead of under a mossy rock.

She tucks her head over her paws and drifts back to sleep.

--

"This is Holly," Ivyleaf says. "Her twoleg was so awful to her, and she's had a bad fright. She's flinchy, and doesn't react well to sudden noise."

Silverbelly nods. "Alright. Stormpaw, I have a job for you."

Stormpaw perks up, a little piece of mallow tumbling from his fur. "Yeah?"

"Go tell your siblings to play quietly. Holly's new and the loud noise scares her."

Stormpaw dutifully nods. "Do you want me to bring her thyme?"

"If you'd like," Silverbelly says. "Just not too much."

Stormpaw scoops up a stalk of thyme and scrambles away.

"He's so gentle," Ivyleaf muses. "You chose your apprentice well."

"I would hope so," Silverbelly laughs. "I can't quite have a reckless medicine cat. Could you imagine Flypaw in here?"

Ivyleaf shivers. "No thank you. Thanks, Silverbelly."

Silverbelly watches her leave.

--

"This is Moxie," Hailpaw proclaims. "Moxie, this is Oaktuft. She used to be a house cat but now she's a warrior and she's way better at running than you are."

Oaktuft scoffs. "Yeah, we'll see. Race me later?"

Moxie hums. "Sure."

(Moxie, without doubt, kicks his ass. Silverbelly watches as Oaktuft gracelessly falls in love with Moxie from that alone.)

--

"And, that should do it," Stormpaw says. "Tell me or Silverbelly if it starts feeling hot. We'll change out the poultice twice a day, at sunrise then sunset. Okay?"

Celia blinks at him. "Uh, okay."

Stormpaw, unfortunately, has a habit of speaking too fast for anyone to catch up with. And tends to run into tangents about this plant or the other.

When he runs off to go check on Robinkit, Silverbelly turns back to Celia. "Sorry about him. He gets excited."

"No, it's fine," he laughs. "Finch used to be like that too. Runs off into tangents about this interesting berry she found, or a shiny rock from a garden. I heard the important parts. Tell you if it's hot, change it twice a day."

"Bingo," she says.

--

"Lichenstripe, meet Silverbelly. Silverbelly, meet Lichenstripe."

"I remember you," Silverbelly says, to the apparent shock of Oaktuft. "You're the medicine cat of Shallowclan. Is everything alright?"

"Eh," Lichenstripe hums. "Long story short, I'm out of a home and I'm staying here now. If that's okay with you," he hastily adds.

"Yeah, sure," she hums. "Make yourself comfortable."

(Later, she learns that Lichenstripe had a vision of one of the newly born kits, Violetkit. She doesn't ask much about it, but it's clear from the twitching of his tail and the way his claws anxiously work at the moss of his nest that it wasn't a very good one.)

--

"Feels good," Celia hums. "Anyway, you're smart, Silverbelly. What are the chances Goldenstar would agree to a one on one patrol with me?"

Silverbelly gawks. Stormpaw gracelessly trips over a rock. Holly snorts.

"Um," she says. "Next to nothing."

"That's still something!" Celia turns from the den and struts into the clearing. He makes a beeline for Goldenstar, and Silverbelly watches in shock as he walks out of camp with him.

"I give up," she quietly says. "You see that, Stormpaw? Don't do that. If you ever decide you want a mate, don't do what Celia just did."

"But it worked?"

--

Silverbelly casually observes Oaktuft's crush.

Applebranch and Honeygleam are suffocating from laughter next to her. Dawnshine is trying, and failing, to not snort.

"He's hopeless," Maplethorn mutters. "Give up while you can, Oaktuft. She's too good for you."

--

Silverbelly has taken Stormpaw out collecting herbs.

"Did you find those daisies yet?" Silverbelly calls.

"Yeah, they're right over here," Stormpaw replies. And then, he goes shudderingly still.

Smells of the stars waft over Silverbelly, but she doesn't interrupt Stormpaw. He could be recieving an important vision.

She carefully plucks away the daisies, and he seems to bounce back.

"Woah," he says. "Is this what getting high on catmint feels like?"

"Not really," Silverbelly winces. Why did she just tell her apprentice that she knew what getting high on catmint felt like.

"It was weird. It was like I was falling."

--

"Mudsplash! Flyspots!"

Flyspots rushes down to them. Mudsplash is close behind, but she stumbles and her brother pulls ahead.

"Oh, you're warriors, I'm so proud," she whispers, and makes the selective choice to embarass her kits. She dives forward to lick Flyspots' head, and he topples backwards.

"Mom, mom please!"

"Resistance is futile," Applebranch snorts. "Great job, kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore," Flyspots declares. "I'm a warrior."

"You'll always be a kid to me," Applebranch laughs.

"Yeah, because you're old," Mudsplash quips.

Silverbelly jolts, and moves to stand next to Applebranch, who is mock sniffling. "How could you?"

Flyspots looks at them, eyes wide. "No, mama, I didn't mean it. You're not old."

"Yeah, great job, Flyspots," Mudsplash mockingly scowls. "You made her cry."

"You're not old, mama, I swear."

"Swear on a moon of dawn patrols?" Applebranch slyly peeks up.

"On a moon of dawn patrols, you're not old," he says. Then he pauses, seemingly realizing what he's just said. "Fuck."

--

"I'm expecting, again," Applebranch says. Then she blinks. "Lichenstripe said so, at least."

Stormpaw, who was watching, promptly squeals. "Silverbelly! Silverbelly! Can I help?"

"I don't see why not," she hums. "Lichenstripe will probably deliver the kits, since my nerves got so bad last time. Sunwish had to physically send me out of the den."

"You can be my personal assistant," Applebranch says. "You can shove raspberries and borage down my throat, like this one did last time." She places a paw on Silverbelly's shoulder

She sighs. "I do it to all the queens."

"Mostly me," Applebranch replies.

(When Applebranch tells Flyspots the news, he screams into his nest, and then turns around like nothing just happened and says, "That's great mom!")

--

"Ivyleaf's gone," Oaktuft mumbles.

"What?" Otterslip stares. "She can't be gone. She's not gone."

"There was an eagle," Moxie tries. "Nothing could have been done."

Otterslip falls silent, then whips around and runs off. Silverbelly feels a pang of pity in her heart.

So maybe that's why she doesn't stop him, when they finally find her body and bring it back to camp. Maybe that's why she doesn't stop him as he sobs over her body, even though she really needs to prepare it for burial.

--

Moxie and Oaktuft are mates. Dawnshine begrudgingly takes his moon of dawn patrols and complains to Robinpaw, who complains to Stormpaw, who complains to her. And that's how she finds out.

"Maybe he shouldn't place bets he can't win," Stormpaw thoughtfully says.

"He's never been a good better," Silverbelly snorts. "Maybe this one will finally teach him his lesson."

--

"Thanks, Lichenstripe, I really appreciate it," she says. "Send a patrol for us if we're needed."

Lichenstripe nods, and waves them off. He's not coming for two reasons. One, because Shallowclan would probably get pissed if they knew he was still with the clans, and two, there was something Silverbelly wanted to do tonight.

She meets up with Lakelily, who smiles and asks how she's been. Then, they intersect with Sandcrash and Pearlnose, and finally bump into Sunpetal and Stonepaw, who falls into easy conversation with Stormpaw, like they always do.

"So," Sunpetal glances towards their chatting apprentices. "Stormpaw's getting his name today, right?"

Silverbelly nods. "I'm not sure what I'll name him quite yet. Perhaps Sunwish will offer her guidance?"

Sunpetal hums. "Maybe."

Sunpetal was young. 36 moons, and was already the senior medicine cat of her clan.

"We're having a bit of trouble in the clan," she says. "Thornstar is extremely ill and Snowviper is no better. I fear we'll be leaderless in a moon."

"So, you want Dancingfrost to give you some guidance?" Sandcrash asks. "Thornstar's been sick for moons, hasn't he?"

Sunpetal blearily nods. "Snowviper was fine before, but it came out of nowhere and it hit her hard. She can hardly get out of her nest. Her mate died last evening, that hasn't been helping."

"I'm sorry," Pearlnose says. "I lost an elder to greencough last week. She was old, but it didn't hurt any less."

Sandcrash nods. "I lost Billowkit to kittencough."

The patrol murmurs their apologies.

"How's the rest of the litter?" Pearlnose asks.

"They're alright," Sandcrash murmurs. "Firekit and Poppykit were too young to understand. Swansplash was really upset, but she knew nothing could be done."

Sandcrash had a mate and kits. Not every medicine cat took a mate, but he did. Swansplash was lovely, a long furred molly with bright purple eyes. Pearlnose also had a mate, a cat named Rosebriar. Despite her name, she was widely known as the best fighter in the clans.

Lakelily was 72 moons, but it didn't look like he'd ever take a mate. Sunpetal had offhandedly mentioned a cat named Autumn.

"And Sunpetal," Pearlnose says. "Thornstar is old. He's been leader since before most of us were born. It's probably his time."

"But Snowviper..." Sunpetal trails off. "She's getting worse by the day. I'm afraid she'll be gone soon."

Silverbelly hums. "Wasn't there a situation like that in ArchClan before?"

Sandcrash hums. "Yes, I think so. Starclan sent Whisperingleaf a sign that time, I'd have to ask him."

Before Silverbelly knows it, they're at the mouth of the cave. Stonepaw and Stormpaw's chatter abruptly stops.

"Stormpaw," she calls. "Step forward."

Stormpaw's copper eyes shine bright.

"Dip your nose in the water, and Starclan will call you," she instructs. She glances back at Lakelily to make sure she's doing this right, and he nods.

She settles down, and drifts awake, into a starry hill. Her breath leaves her when she sees Sunwish standing before her.

"Welcome, Stormpaw," she kindly says. "Silverbelly's trained you well."

She sees Wildfang and Breezeshadow standing, watching closely but not interfering.

"I do wish I could have met you," Sunwish sighs. "Maybe in another life. Now, step forward."

Stormpaw carefully steps forward.

"Stormpaw, do you promise to heal and protect your clan?"

"I do," he says. "I promise."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I name you Stormsight. We honor your vigilance and enthusiasm."

Sunwish steps away, and Silverbelly shouts, "Stormsight!"

The other medicine cats join her. Stormsight stares at her, grinning brightly, and Silverbelly grins back.

Stormsight suddenly stops. The sky, previously alight with stars, goes black.

The other medicine cats are deathly still. Stormsight himself isn't moving. Like time has stopped.

Silverbelly looks around herself, shaking as she peers into the pool of water.

A rock drops into it, knocking some water away from the rocks and onto the shore. It shines red as it lands on her paws.

She looks behind her, willing someone who is better at this to help her. Lakelily, Sandcrash, Pearlnose?

They aren't there.

Shaking, she turns back around, and jumps. Stormsight has vanished.

Those fucking rocks.

It's the same dream, of the rocks. The blood trails from one to the next in a single line, and then it abruptly stops.

She stares at the rock. One is brown, the next is a lighter shade. The final rock could barely constitue for brown, it's more orange than anything.

A scream travels behind her, followed closely by a shattering crack. She wants to turn around, but it's like her paws are frozen in place.

Silverbelly screams.

And then she wakes up.

-🍭 (society if tumblr would stop eating my asks)

(first part here)

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT?????? LOLLIPOP MY JAW FUCKING DROPPED I AM CRYING REAL LIFE TEARS. your writing is absolutely INSANE. so vivid and i LOVE your worldbuilding and the little hints to other stuff going on??????? AHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD IM LOSING MY MIND

Lichenstripe having a vision of Violetkit holy shit. the MOXIEOAK. Silverbelly's vision. holy fuck i am losing my mind. correct me if im wrong but. the rocks. Scorchstar and Otterslip. but who is the third rock i am chewing and biting auhghghhgh

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

An Acquired Taste

sebastian and lilia look back on the past.

cw: grief, loss, war flashbacks

also on ao3

“You changed your hair.”

Lilia gave a bright smile. “Do you like it? I quite enjoy the pink. It makes me feel young again.” He heard a tiny mew and looked under the table. “There we are, Flora!” He knelt on the floor and held out one hand, palm up and relaxed as if offering food. “Come to say hello to our guest?”

The kitten sniffed his hand suspiciously before stepping onto it for an experimental nibble on the cuff of his sleeve. Lilia stood with her carefully cupped in his hands.

“Oh, my. How you’ve grown, little one.” Their guest offered his own white-gloved hand, which Flora inspected and subsequently deemed acceptable real estate. She chewed on his cufflink and purred.

“How about you?”

He answered without looking away from the kitten. “Hm?”

“Did you enjoy having hair of a different color?” Lilia tilted his head. “I rather thought it suited you.”

“It was interesting for a time,” he said, “but I did not notice after a while.”

“You should change it more often. Keep things interesting.” Lilia crossed the kitchen floor in the light-footed, ballet-dancer way of the fae, delicate enough not to bend the kitten-whisker blades of young meadowgrass or press footprints into newfallen snow. Soundless to any human ears, though none were present to prove it. “Do you still take your tea the same?”

He dangled one finger over the kitten for her to paw at with her whisker-thin claws. “Surprise me.”

Lilia blended the leaves and spices with a deft hand as he heated the water. These ingredients made for an earthy, more savory blend than usual, which made him smile as he remembered an argument between the boys about whether something qualified as soup or tea. “I think you will like this one,” he said as he brought the teapot to the table and set it next to their game.

“You have yet to fail me in this regard.” He set the purring kitten on his shoulder and lifted the teacup to his nose for a sample of the aroma. He eyed Lilia curiously, red meeting nearly-red. “This contains mushrooms,” he said.

Lilia beamed. “They were his favorite, were they not?”

“Yes, that is true.” He drank it smoothly. Food and drink treated him rather strangely in his current form - a far cry from when he occupied a more corporeal state. It did not taste of anything, not in the usual way a human or other creature might know the sensation. Instead, it evoked memories, pulled together their many fishing lines and drew them closer. He let his eyes loll closed as they rose up around him, like the crisp, clear water of a mountain stream cascading over his ankles, the brilliant fire of the autumn leaves mingled with evergreen shadows, the dirt and decaying wood and pine and mycelium carried to him by the diaphanous mist of an early-morning rain.

Such peace was normally far from him.

“It is your turn, as well,” Lilia added.

“Mm.” He set the cup aside with the remembrance clinging to his lips. “If I did not know you so well, Lilia, I would think you have altered the signs on these tiles in a moment of my distraction.”

Lilia looked affronted. “I am appalled by such an accusation.” He folded his arms across his chest.

A twitch of the smile that hinted at holding back so much more than teeth and tongue. “Do you deny it?”

“No,” Lilia huffed, “but I am appalled that you would mention it.”

“Worry not. It is a matter of no consequence.” He dispensed with several layers of tiles at once, taking advantage of the rule allowing an additional move once a match was made and stringing together more than a dozen.

Lilia looked perturbed about it, but just as quickly he smiled. “Is there any kind of game you don’t know, Sebastian? Have you ever lost even one match?”

The smile grew wider. “I suppose there might be one out there that has yet to cross my path.” He made certain to leave Lilia with no choice but to keep drawing tiles in the hope of making a match, thus increasing his own lead, “but as for losing…I prefer to keep that tally close to my heart.”

A shadow passed over Lilia’s face and left his eyes darker. “Have you found one?”

And then suddenly it was once upon a time, in a magical land not all that far away, when their gazes met for the first moment.

Lilia’s eyes brimmed with magic and rage. His moss-green armor was damaged, stained black with blood that still glimmered with a trace of life where there was none. His fangs were on full display in a mouth hanging open as he gasped for air. He was kneeling at the side of a dead man, but now, eyes caught in the trap of another’s, he rose to his feet.

“How can you do that?” he asked of the demon with a grip that threatened to shatter the weapon in his hand.

“I'm afraid I do not know what you mean.”

“This is a place of death,” Lilia growled, “a place of great pain and violence. A place of war.”

“I'm well aware of that.” A tongue danced across teeth. “One can smell the blood from the other side of the mountains. I thought it must be an impressive buffet and chose to find out for myself, though I could hardly have predicted what delicacies awaited me.”

The depth of Lilia’s wrath surprised even himself. “Are you unfamiliar with such calamity, hellborn?” It was an absurd thing to ask a demon, and he knew it.

“Not in the least.” Its countenance descended into deeper wickedness. “I stroll the halls of Hell quite frequently.”

“Then how…” Lilia brought his other hand to the weapon that was beginning to crackle with living power. “…how dare you stand there and smile?”

The demon continued to do so, even as liquid green fire poured into the oversized hatchet at the end of Lilia’s arms, as he prepared to wield it again in spite of his bone-deep exhaustion and unfathomable pain.

“Because,” the demon said, bowing to him in some sort of further cruel mockery, “I am delighted to meet you, Lilia Vanrouge.”

Lilia cried out as he hefted the hatchet over his shoulder and swung it into the ground. Thunder cracked the air itself apart as brilliant beryl light split the earth, as it devoured the demon and everything else within a hundred feet of it. Lilia threw an arm across his eyes to keep from blinding himself.

When the searing light subsided, every inch of earth in the impact zone was scorched black. Lilia’s forearms burned, which meant the magic imbued in his armor had worn bare.

The demon, completely unhurt, marveled at the specks of ash dancing in flurries around him.

“Why are you here?” Lilia’s voice grew into a desperate cry. “What do you want from me?”

The demon laughed, and it shook Lilia to his bones. “It is an honor of the highest caliber to meet the Red General himself. To watch him paint the emerald lands jet and crimson with elegant strokes of his brush, why- my associates will find themselves positively burning with envy.”

Lilia dared not cry before a demon. “There are no souls for you here, monster,” he said curtly. “Only death and its trappings.”

The creature appeared to consider his words. “Monster,” it repeated thoughtfully. “Are you familiar with the metaphor of glass houses?”

Lilia went silent.

“Do you deny it?” The demon curled a hand beneath its chin as though it were human.

“No,” Lilia admitted, “but at least I know what I am.”

“As do I.” Its eyes, the red of poppies, crackled with delight as they swept over the surrounding carnage. “Some of these men, so called, are hardly strong enough to carry their own swords.” It lowered its gaze. “Others were fathers. Some grandfathers.” It nudged the nearest with a black-booted toe. “This one has three little ones at home, and another along shortly.”

Lilia dared not cry. “Stop.”

It did not stop. “This one has a birthday next week.” It smiled cruelly. “Fifteen. Such a tender age.”

“I will end you.” Lilia already saw the faces of the dead every time he closed his eyes, through every minute of fitful sleep he managed to wring out of himself. He did not need this.

“Do you know why demons consume souls?” asked the demon.

Lilia’s jaw was clenched too tight for him to answer.

“We can eat all manner of things to sustain ourselves, like any creature,” it explained, “but a soul is unique.” Then, to Lilia’s continued horror, it began to demonstrate. Like playing a delicate instrument, the demon moved its hands gently through the air. Gossamer threads swayed at its fingertips. Silver light glinted from them, enabling Lilia’s eyes to follow the lines to where they gathered at the center of the teenage boy’s chest. “True, it contains the entirety of a person’s life, the accumulated memories and experiences…” It twirled its hands to wind the threads tighter. A pale, ghostly shape emerged over the boy’s heart, like an orb crafted of the thinnest crystal and filled with quicksilver. The demon tugged on it. “…but more importantly, it contains their potential. All the lives they could have lived. The knowledge they never gained, lovers they never had, family, friends, all the other things that make a life worth living.”

The blade of Lilia’s hatchet sliced neatly through the space between the demon and its meal. It should have severed the threads. But instead, the soul passed right through everything, through his weapon and his hands, and straight into the demon’s claws.

“A noble attempt,” the demon smiled, “but alas, such a weapon has no effect on me, as you’ve gathered.” Then it opened its mouth, jaws stretching impossibly wide, and devoured the soul.

Lilia leaned on his weapon for support. Long black-and-red ribbons of hair spilled over his shoulders and swayed in the faint breeze washing over the battlefield. That attack was stupid - he was no Reaper - and now he was needlessly weaker for it. But he had to try.

“They are already dead,” he whispered mournfully, “and you would rob them of eternal rest, of dignity. All they have left. You are unimaginably cruel.”

The demon swallowed audibly. “They are already dead,” it repeated. “What use do they have for it now? If I don’t consume it, another demon will.” Another twisted smile. “Waste not.”

Lilia’s downcast eyes took in the state of his blade. A massive magestone, dark with accumulated runoff from his repeated spellcasting. It hardly had one more swing left in it, let alone a full-scale attack. “You are right,” he conceded quietly. “I cannot stop you, or your kind, from gorging on mortal souls.” He pulled himself up and looked at the demon. A creature of liquid shadow poured into this deadly shape, this cruel, honed blade forged from darkness and quenched in immortal blood. This thing smiling cheerfully at him after eating the life of a young boy who never had a chance.

“But perhaps…”

The demon’s expression turned inquisitive.

“…perhaps I can slow you down.”

Lightning-quick, Lilia shot his hand out toward the demon’s chest and dug his nails in as deep as they could go. The creature went rigid in his grasp, then tried to squirm free when he began summoning his magic, but Lilia held it fast.

“I lay a curse upon you, hellborn. For every soul you have consumed, you shall be bound to the life of another. You shall experience all those things which you have stolen, and you shall be powerless to escape your shackles. Upon your keeper’s death, the cycle shall begin again.”

Magenta light burst from beneath Lilia’s hand and captured the demon in a tangle of thorns. Its shriek pierced his ears, but he did not let go.

“May you learn the value of a life that is not yours to take.”

Sebastian’s smile had lightened considerably over the years. “I think, perhaps, I have,” he answered. “Though I still intend to win.”

Lilia brightened, all traces of the darkness fizzling out. “It is more about the fun than the winning.”

Sebastian tilted his head. “Are the two not interchangeable?”

“Oh, goodness.” Lilia giggled. “You still have so much more to learn.”

Sebastian did win, though. He always won.

“I think our little friend here is hungry,” he said as he gathered Flora into his hand and stood. “I shall return presently.”

Lilia set about shuffling the tiles in case he would like to play another round, but before he could finish, there was a knock at the front door. Disjointed. Loud. Lilia hurried to answer it. He knew that knock.

“Oh, Floyd,” he said sadly, “there, there, young one, come here…”

Floyd wiped his nose with a torn-up sleeve and collapsed on Lilia’s tiny frame, the rest of his body sprawled on the front steps.

Lilia was stronger than he looked, but his arms simply weren’t long enough to pick Floyd up and set him back on his feet. “It’s alright,” he cooed as Floyd sobbed violently against him. “Come in and rest for a while.”

Still, he had to wait until Floyd was able to stand, which took a minute or two.

“Here,” Lilia said gently. “Sit.” Floyd gave up on the proffered chair and sank to the floor, where he lay on his side and bawled.

“Th- th-th-thought- y-you s-”

“Shh, don’t try to talk yet,” Lilia said. “It will pass. It will pass.”

It did pass, after several minutes, and only after Gus, the massive, fluffy orange tabby, came over and started making biscuits on his midsection. The hem of his shirt was pulled up a bit, and he laughed suddenly when Gus’s hair tickled his stomach, then cut himself off just as fast.

“Where’s Flora?” Floyd asked hoarsely.

“Getting a snack. She will be back shortly.”

“Oh.”

Floyd’s visits had become a regular occurrence that grew out of a desperate need. It was not so often anymore that the grief crushed him so thoroughly, but Lilia was glad to be there when it did.

“Found this,” Floyd said miserably. He had been clutching something so tightly that Lilia hadn’t even seen it in his over-large hands. He held it out to show Lilia as if handling a baby bird. It was a slightly crumpled, slightly tear-stained birthday card.

“Is this from Jade?”

Floyd nodded and shifted so he could sit up with Gus lounging comfortably across his lap. “It was in the closet. On my side, on the top shelf, where all my shoes are, cause he knows I would never let anybody else touch that stuff.” He sniffled.

Lilia gingerly took the card and opened it.

Floyd,

You are the best brother anyone could have. Every day, I grow even happier that I chose you. You will have so many years of joy ahead. I wish I could be there for all of them.

Jade

“This was very sweet of him,” Lilia said softly.

Floyd looked at the enormous cat stretched across his lap. Gus loved scritches from anyone, but especially from Floyd. “He knew,” Floyd mumbled. “He knew he was gonna die.” He briefly chomped down on his bottom lip to fight back another onslaught of crying. “But how could he know, Lils? There’s no way he could’ve known.”

“There we are, my darling,” came the voice from down the hall. “Salmon, bluefin tuna, and sardine, poached in a delicate bonito broth and finished with a light drizzle of cod liver oil.” Flora wolfed it down loud enough to be heard from any corner of the house.

Floyd went still.

His reddened eyes locked on to the source of the voice. “Who’s that?”

Lilia could only offer a tiny smile. “A friend of mine,” he answered.

Floyd picked up Gus, who curled around his folded arms, and stood.

The man coming towards them was tall, taller even than Floyd, with soft, dark hair and a cheerful smile directed at the tiny kitten on his shoulder. He turned his gaze on Floyd, red meeting red-rimmed, and his smile dissipated.

“Why, hello there,” he said with poorly-masked unease. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Floyd clung to Gus like the cat was his life preserver.

“Floyd,” Lilia said, “this is my friend Sebastian.”

Floyd just kept staring, searching the depths of his eyes, studying the lines of his face. Sebastian stood patiently. Floyd inhaled to speak, opened his mouth, closed it, repeated the whole series a couple of times, then finally gave up and buried his face into the cat’s fur. “Hi,” he said weakly.

Lilia looked between them expectantly, but Floyd turned his back and vanished into the game room. The door closed behind him.

Lilia let go of a held breath. “This has been immeasurably difficult for him.”

Sebastian found himself doing the same thing - trying to speak but failing to find the words. It was a completely foreign experience.

“I know.”

Lilia looked just as shocked as the demon did. “You do?”

Sebastian frowned. “Yes, I think so. This is grief.”

Lilia blinked up at him. “Well,” he said, “perhaps you have learned something after all.” He looked back at the door and sighed heavily when he heard Floyd’s crying start up again. “Shall I explain this to him?”

Sebastian thought about it, then shook his head. “No,” he decided. “I shall.”

Lilia hesitated, but then he bowed out of the way.

Sebastian cleared his throat and knocked on the door. A muffled noise answered him. He took it as an invitation to enter.

Floyd had curled into a tight ball around the giant orca plushie he kept at Lilia’s house. His body quaked with every jagged sob, and even though he must have heard Sebastian enter, he fully ignored the demon’s presence. Sebastian debated his options and finally decided to awkwardly fold himself into a seated position on the floor. He could not think of anything to say.

“Why’re you here?” Floyd asked with a tremble.

Sebastian had to admit that he did not know the answer. “It seemed like the correct thing to do.”

Floyd scoffed, then started coughing so hard he had to sit up. “That’s such a-” But he broke off before he could finish it.

“What?” asked Sebastian.

Floyd rubbed his face with his sleeve. “That…it…it’s just a very Jade thing to say.” He hugged the orca much more tightly than he could hug Gus. “Who are you?”

Sebastian toyed with the edge of the orca’s tail. “What sort of answer would you like?”

Floyd sniffled. “You don’t even look like him,” he mumbled. “Not a lot.”

Sebastian said nothing. Floyd kept going.

“You’re not supposed to be taller than me, you jerk.” Floyd’s nails were acting more like claws. “And your eyes aren’t right. And your hair’s all wrong. And your voice. And your face.” He shook with something barely contained. Not anger, but perhaps not anything else, either.

Sebastian was not meeting his eyes. “I suppose.”

“But- you still look like him.” Floyd tossed the orca aside and finally found his rage. “Why? Why do you look like my brother?”

Sebastian wondered why he had not been able to keep eye contact with Floyd, but looking at him now solved that puzzle. All at once, his chest ached tremendously with something hot and sharp, like Lilia’s nails cutting deep into the space where a heart might have been, an agony he had seen and caused but never felt.

Floyd was waiting on an answer.

“Well, I…” Sebastian’s hand clutched at his own chest as if it might stop the pain. It did not. “…I suppose I am, in a way.”

Floyd’s expression turned from suspicion to disgust. “What does that even mean?”

Sebastian hadn’t exactly worked out an explanation for this in advance. “I have experienced a number of lifetimes,” he said. “Jade’s was merely the most recent.”

Floyd scowled. “What, you, like, possessed him or something? Are you a demon?”

This abrupt conclusion took him by further surprise. “Well, actually.”

Floyd looked wary but did not press him.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“Yeah.” Floyd retreated into himself a little, still skeptical. “Was Jade even real?”

He blinked. “Of course he was.”

“But you took over his life.”

Sebastian winced, then wondered why he had done that. He was no longer contained in a mortal form. Why was he still experiencing the same effects? “Not so,” he managed to say. “I was more of a…reluctant passenger.”

Floyd went for the orca again and sighed into its polyester fluff. Gus reappeared, investigated Sebastian’s foot, then decided Floyd was superior and rubbed against his leg. “Jade wasn’t huge on cats,” Floyd said. “He liked mushrooms. Everything was friggin’ mushrooms.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Yes, I remember.”

Floyd cocked an eyebrow. “‘Remember?’” he asked. “You haven’t- I mean, he hasn’t been…gone…for that long.”

“Of course.” Sebastian could not quite explain the feeling of it all. Memories from a thousand years ago tangled with moments barely a few weeks old. He had gathered from experience that humans gradually forgot their early memories as they aged, to varying degrees, but it did not work that way for him. He remembered everything at once. As if it happened yesterday.

He smelled sugar. Floyd had unwrapped a piece of bubblegum and wrapped his tongue around it.

“That will rot your teeth,” he remarked.

Both of them stilled. It was not Sebastian’s voice that had spoken, but, subtly different, Jade’s.

Floyd recovered first. “Yeah, you told me.” He offered a piece. “You don’t like it, but you get mad when I don’t share, so.”

Sebastian was moderately certain that had only been true at a much younger age. He took the piece of gum and tasted it. Chalky and sweet, and already melting into an unpleasant texture.

“I don’t know how you can still eat these things, Floyd,” he said as the sugar triggered another memory, another moment plucked out of time.

“That’s caaaause…?” Floyd chewed open-mouthed at him with a mischievous grin.

“…because I am no fun,” Sebastian - Jade - quietly finished for him.

Floyd’s giggle made the candy taste even sweeter.

“I guess you’re not so bad.” Floyd tucked the gum into a far corner of his mouth for later. Jade had taught him that, so he would not have to spit it out during class and get in trouble. “I still don’t…get it,” he admitted. “How did you know he w- you were…dying?”

Sebastian did not want to finish the gum, but he did not want to upset Floyd any further by disposing of it, so he quietly vaporized it. “I gained a sense of it over time,” he said. “The way a soul feels when it approaches its end.” He placed a hand over his chest, where Jade’s heart had been. “It does not seem to make a difference whether the cause is internal or external. And I could not explain the sensation if I tried.”

Floyd was absentmindedly cleaning between his teeth with his tongue. “Thanks for the card.”

Sebastian nodded. “It may seem strange, Floyd, but I meant every word.” A tightness grew in his chest. “You…more than anyone else…made it a life worth living.” One that had tasted all the sweeter.

Floyd lunged in a way that made Sebastian want to roll out of the way and throw him into the wall, but he relaxed when he realized it was just a hug. A signature, full-strength Floyd squeeze. “I knew it was you,” he mumbled. “I’d know you anywhere, you big, stupid jerk.”

Sebastian laughed and tousled his hair because he hated it.

“Ugh, yes, definitely you.” Floyd shoved him off and hurriedly fixed it.

A curious feeling had settled in the hollow of his chest. Something warm, lightweight. Fragile. Something that felt a little like a soul.

Sebastian sat with Lilia on the roof of his house. The sun was, at last, setting on this very peculiar day.

“Is there a particular reason we are up here?”

Lilia nodded and grinned. “It’s the best place to watch for bats.”

A pair of them appeared as if summoned, fluttering erratically against the watercolor sky.

“Do you ever think about that day, Lilia?”

Lilia’s eyes darted around in search of more bats. “From time to time,” he said, “when I realize I have not heard from you in a while.” He took a deep inhale of the fading autumn air. “At first I did not expect to hear from you ever again. Imagine my surprise.”

Sebastian could smell winter’s distant bite as well. “For once, I can say that I can imagine it.”

Lilia chuckled and then sighed. “I suppose you have once again evened the count.”

“It would appear that way, yes.” He watched as more bats took flight for the evening.

“And?”

Sebastian looked down at him. “And what?”

“What do you think about it?” Lilia’s eyes had changed over the years. Once a deep, bloody scarlet, they had ripened to dragonfruit pink. Softer and sweeter.

“This one seems different, somehow.” He pulled his knees up to his chest. “I think…that I enjoyed having a brother very much.”

“You have had siblings before. And children,” Lilia reminded him. “What makes Floyd so different?”

What doesn’t, Sebastian wanted to say. “Have I explained the taste of a soul before?”

Lilia’s face immediately soured. “Yes, Sebastian,” he said flatly. “On day one.”

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “What I mean to say is that each one is different. Some brightly acidic, some old and bitter, others gently mellow.” Most recently, it was the taste of brine that lingered on his palate, but he did not share that information. “Prior to the day you cursed me, I had thought there was nothing finer.”

Lilia crossed his arms. “This had best end on a positive note if you know what is good for you, young man.”

He found it harder to speak, as though something was lodged in his trachea, and tried to clear his throat again. “What I did not know was how it pales in comparison to life.”

Lilia’s face relaxed.

“All of the things that mortal creatures feel…joy, sadness, anger, fear. Grief. Pain. I did not know how…how strong these feelings could be,” said Sebastian as the steady timbre of his voice abandoned him. “The limits to which they can be driven. Empathy, compassion, even love - have only been mere words to me, empty and meaningless. Pathetic.” He shut his eyes and found them burning.

Lilia patted his shoulder. “Life is all that and more, my friend.” His weathered gaze followed a wayward bat that had taken particular interest in his fig tree. “Is that, perhaps, why you have not asked me to lift the curse? To spare you from the heartbreak of yet another mortal life?”

Sebastian placed one hand into his pocket, intending to retrieve a handkerchief, and instead found a piece of super-ultra-sour candy that Floyd had snuck in there behind his back. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “Unfortunately, it seems I have developed a taste for it.”

[josephtrohman]

sorry if you’ve been asked this before, would you be willing to spare some joetrick fic recs? i’m getting super back into them and the bandom so wanted to jump back in with some recs maybe!! (do you still prefer top joe? do you have any toppy patrick? if thats not your bag i don’t mind i’ll honesty take anything you think is well written atp 😁 ty!!!)

i’m sorry it’s taken me a couple days to answer this anon!!! finals got me both tweaking and sleep deprived at the same time somehow. also tho let it be known there is nothing to be sorry for at allllll omg, and there Never is, imagine my inbox as a safe warm place where i’m always here for ANYTHING. anyways, i have answered some joetrick fic recs earlier, here is the link to that post which has my crème de la crème joetrick fics, but i always have more in my back pocket!!! start with that other post’s list tho first for sure!!!! just bc they are THEE BEST. ok gonna put the rest under a break here (including my answers to ur question LOLL) :3

i truthfully have mellowed out when it comes to top/bottom preferences lol (i wonder if ur an og follower and saw my ask from like 2016 that i may have answered more intensely about preferring top joe and oh god the 'bottom patrick network' i was in way back when networks were a thing HDKDJDKDJSJ). i actually really enjoy top patrick/bottom joe in this day and age but there is like. none still. so i dont have much to offer u 💔 but im working on something and so is a fobtwt friend of mine so keep ur eyes peeled!!!

i combed my archive and found u my (very) slim pickings for toppy patrick. which imo is a disgrace and i Have contributed to this pattern of mostly bottom patrick w my fics BUT i hope to change this fact as i have a wip that’s just pwp top patrick/bottom joe maybe coming in the next several months LOLLLL (also my fobtwt friend as i mentioned). but i’ll start with the closest things i can find. i’m gonna break it down with the kind of adjacent to ur request fics First and then give a few more recs after :)

an exploration of the bounds of venus by disloyalorder. this might be the only top patrick pure joetrick smut on ao3 (that i found well-written enough to save at least <3). it’s got a heavy dose of mommy kink/mommy dom stuff so i guess if that’s not ur thing then u really will have to stay tuned for my fic ;) haha

wasted summer by terriblewritings. shoutout to the author for dropping it in my inbox!!! it has the mommy kink too and a liiiiiiittle talk of weight just in an appreciative way idk but a warning; it’s toppy patrick in the sense of dom patrick bc there’s no penetration, but it’s rly good!!! author says there might be more coming too ;3

token by gigantic. this one i found on total accident, i had been digging around on this user’s livejournal because they have two PHENOMENAL wentzman fics up (if u want those recs too lmk) but basically this one is joe on a gay sex mission lol, it is explicit but ofc when u get to the goods (aka the JOETRICK SCENE) it's all fade-to-black instead 💔 but still SOOOOO good so unbelievably well written!!!

i had it listed it in the other rec ask, but bdsm by heyginger has a brief mention of joe riding patrick (not explicit smut tho lol) AND of patrick tying joe up so it feels on the toppy patrick side for sure :)

also for good measure, though patrick is not toppy to JOE in these ones, there are two jeterick fics that feature patrick topping pete while joe does stuff to them etc just maybe to scratch a similar itch? lay your head down -- and feel the beat and two's company, three's just right both by likeasugarcube.

begging all ao3 writers to PLEASEEE write more top patrick/bottom joe joetrick fics i want to read joe get fucked like he deserves <3 ok anyways

EDITING THIS ASK FROM THREE MONTHS IN THE FUTURE TO SAY i have a top patrick joetrick fic up NAOW anon if you happen to return to this ask again anon. addicted to the way i feel when i think of you by josephtrohman aka yours truly ;3 (AND EDITING AGAIN TO SAY I HAVE A TOP PATRICK PUPPY PLAY JOETRICK FIC)

and now here r some general recs that aren’t toppy patrick related :)

my tongue is my choir by coricomille. patrick is mute (mixon is their vocalist) and it’s a wonderfully written, very sweet fic!!!

capture the phrases by rosiedoesfic. patrick has a secret admirer in the form of anonymous post it notes. so good<3

expensive mistakes by rosiedoesfic. cute little fic about the insta posts in mania era that had very joetricky captions :')

the cure to growing older by rosiedoesfic. a au fic where joe and patrick have been friends since they were little kids, a very cute growing up together type story :)

message in a bottle by bunnytrohman. a sweet lil getting together fic sent during 2ourdust. saur beautiful and the world needs more fics set in the stardust era imo!!!

take a breath (i know what's behind that door) by thesecondshow. joe checks in on/takes care of patrick right after the we liked you better fat post. really really beautifully written <3 (hai mitch if u see this)

your secret's out by the_seventh_avenger. cute lil fic, honestly hard to summarize with a lil blurb without giving everything away but love it so much!!

alpha dog by bunnytrohman. puppy play joetrick. i needn’t say more READ THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

leaving it there bc looking at my bookmark list there aren't like a TON more that i even really could rec so i'll save those for if someone else asks in another 10 months <3 lol love u anon my inbox (and dms!!! if u wanna reveal urself but no pressure) is always open to discuss these fics or ANYTHING too 💖

[h4rring1on]

reader and eddie being enemies then eddie gets into a fight with someone and reader cleans him up

pairing: enemy!eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, fights ensue, some sort of fluff

eddie munson. you hated that name. it was so annoying, mostly because it belonged to someone even worse. ever since that one day in 3rd grade where he stole your lollipop, you hated him.

everything about him was just…ew! you didn’t know how to describe it, but whenever he was around, you wished a hole would swallow you up so you don’t have to deal with him.

but don’t worry though! eddie felt the exact same way, he found you just as annoying! everything about you! how you twirl your hair when you’re nervous, how you chew four times before swallowing, how you always curled in on yourself when you felt insecure, it was all just…ugh! he felt the exact same way about you whenever you were around.

everyone knew just how much you two couldn’t stand each other, most of them shipped you, saying it was all a disguise, but both of you were quick to shut them up. because you…and him? ew! never happening.

one day, you were with your friends outside of school, talking during lunch. you suddenly heard a crowd chanting the word fight. curious to know, you and your friends headed there only to see none other than eddie, fighting one of the jocks

nothing happened at first, just you silently watching, but something inside you suddenly changed. you felt bad for some reason, and were a bit worried. he was receiving the hit more than he was giving it.

you found yourself trying to pull him away, and once you finally did, he wasn’t even saying anything. the crowd started to separate, a little confused looks coming your way, but you managed to get him in your car

you drove home, knowing all the nurse at school was gonna do is give him an ice pack.

he was still silent, and your house was close. once you got there, you took him with you to the bathroom to clean him up

he gasped when you put a cold towel on his face, to clean him up

“i don’t need your help” he sternly said, grabbing your wrist

“who says i care?” you rolled your eyes at him, and he let go of your wrist slowly.

it was silent for a while, as he kept looking at you while you cleaned his face

“why’d you do that” he spoke up

“do what?” you muttered as you fixed up his cuts, hearing a few gasps and winces

“you never care if i get hurt.” he said, and you were quietly working, “hey” he loudly said, “i’m talking to you.”

“i don’t know. you don’t have to be mean all the time. just accept the help you get.”

“not when it’s from you” he said

“look, i get you hate me or something, but you were pretty much losing and we’re about to pass out.” you said, avoiding eye contact

“hey” he gently stopped your arm this time, “i don’t hate you”

you were silent again, looking around to avoid looking at his face, until he grabbed it and forced you to look at him

“you know that…right?” he softly said, “answer me”

you sighed, “if you don’t hate me then why do you treat me like shit all the time” you snapped

“i don’t treat you like shit”

“you’re always making fun of me! and taking every chance you could to annoy me”

“that’s because you’re always doing the same thing!” he said

“no i don’t!”

he looked at you dead in the eye

“okay! maybe i do…but it’s just to get you back”

“for what?!”

“for taking my lolly!” you yelled

“loll—wait a second, do you mean the lollipop i took from you?! from 3rd grade? like a million years ago?” he widened his eyes at you, and busted out laughing when you didn’t answer

“you’re so annoying! just go” you said as you pushed him out of the bathroom and to the front door, with him still laughing, you fake laughed at him, “very funny asshole” you fake smiled at him and pushed him out the door

you didn’t hear from him after that for the whole day, not that you care. he was annoying you anyway

when you woke up the next day, you got ready for school and opened the door to see him standing there, the infamous lollipop in hand

“what’s going on?” you questioned

“do you forgive me now?” he smirked at you, “got you your lolly” he mocked you and you hit him

you looked at it for a second, before taking it and looking around to avoid eye contact, “maybe” you muttered

god. he was gonna abuse that maybe. he’s gonna be more annoying than ever now that you can stand each other

a/n: THIS SUCKED BYE

[l0gitex]

💕💔💎 for the hyperfixations asks

media hyperfixation ask game!

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

leut me tell you about.... OH

kimimaro orz............ i like him so much because 1) he is very cool 2) his design is good 3) his powers freaks me out. bones.. 4) ...HE IS ANOTHER REALLY SAD CHARACTER WHOSE LIFE IS JSUT......TRAGIC! thwarted by the narrative..... he was just born into a life of misfortune the way i see it, because had he even just not run into orochimaru so quickly he might have lived a normal life, maybe been a powerful (notfuckedupevilthatway) shinobi. something about him that sticks out to me is his extreme politeness, one that even mirrors lee in a way. another thing is .. a sort of low self esteem, judging by the personal pronoun he uses (this for the politeness as well, aand another thing he has in common with rock lee) & just the way he pretty overtly sees himself as worthless, having run out of "use" for orochimaru. his loyalty is something i feel like if he had been able to learn the world a more natural, less schewed way might've been his greatest asset; even as he was it was, only it also became his downfall. i think he had great potential to be somebody incredibly kind, but his worldview and values were warped entirely having grown up under orochimaru's care, going pretty literally from one dark hole to the next..lol :o( i like to think of an alternate way things could've gone, where kimimaro survives and leaves the village of sound, gets to become a person and.. live. i had the impression he never really saw the world at all there, and he deserved it as much as anyone. it's a nice thought for him to have slowly made friends, learned to really trust others, enjoy the simple things in life. see himself as more than a means to somebody else's goals. thinking about him makes me very sad. like a lot of nart characters the world and people around him were not kind to him, saw him not as an equal, not even as a person, but as a weapon, tool, asset. this is true for a lot of characters, but his story to me is one of the saddest ending ones. at least others with kekkei genkai or* great power (neji, sasuke, *gaara..) had some chance/success at learning there's more to their worlds than the narrow view they had, kimimaro however never had that chance at all. hurts.

💔 tell us about one of your LEAST favorite characters and why you dislike them.

sasuke 🧍

OK HEARME OUT i do not DISLIKE him as such really but i kind of care infintely more about every other characters' fucked up backstory so far than i do his LOLL. i attribute this largely to 99% of my knowledge of naruto until last year having been through jokes&memes, many of those having been sasuke-related i just cannot take him seriously almost at all. I'M SORRY SASUKE FANS....... i do get the tragedy of his upbringing and The Incident and everything but at the same time like he's just funny to me i can't not make fun of him. he's perfectly justified in being a brooding edgelord but he is still a brooding edgelord all the same. gaara had it way worse besides. LOL. <- JOKING!!!! MOSTLY!!! I'M JOKING

💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

now this is my paraphrasing of it and i'm sure that among nart fans its common knowledge but when asked which of his characters kishimoto would want to marry*, if any, about the girls he said none bc 'he made them after all :)' and when asked the same about the boyz he had his answer locked and loaded. shikamaru. kishimoto has some kind of particular fixation on him and thats reallyreally funny to me and hilalrios. *i'm assuming this was asked by the time the characters had grown up and stuff so not mega weird although kinda it is but yknow

[tyonfs]

cat & mouse

❝ rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits, and, y/n, we just pushed that limit. ❞

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, crack, fluff, college au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ lots of !! sexual tension !! and jaemin acting like a dick, protective big brother!jaehyun, lots of sneaking around, jaemin calls you princess a lot, teasing, fingering, alcohol consumption, hooking up, thigh riding, smut, oral sex, aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out. 

PLAYLIST ▸ move! by niki • playinwitme by kyle (feat. kehlani)

WORD COUNT ▸ 17713 words

TAG LIST ▸ @chubsluda​ @celestialchans​ @treasurestay​ @luvlyjaemin​ @lanadreamie​ @kylomeyon​ @taehinsano​ @jenotation​ @ovelha-colorida-v​ @hrjflrt​ @to-blessed-2-be-stressed​ @honeyju​ @chanluster​ @sweetjaemss​ @najaemsenthusiastttt​ @neovrse​ @jjikyuu​ @treasurestay​ @ahgastayzen​ @wcnderlandss​ @jaehy9ngs​ @jaemxins​ @syhznanny​ @lilminyoongles​ @bbnana​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so much for all of your love and support !! it’s beyond me & i hope you guys enjoy this ! part of the dunk shot! series but it can be read separately ♡

NA JAEMIN HATED PARTIES.

In the same vein, he hated basketball to an extent. It wasn’t the sport itself that he despised, it was the commitments that followed it. As a vital player on the team, he was obligated to attend every afterparty despite how much he loathed parties. Yet, what he couldn’t stand was being nagged by his teammates, so Jaemin went to the parties. He went to the parties and drank until he was numb and the party was tolerable.

He didn’t even like drinking that much, but he didn’t have much of a choice when most of the members of the basketball team were his seniors. Jaemin was pretty sure his brain cells depleted one-by-one every time he took a shot, but sometimes he got away with faking his alcohol intake when the others were too drunk to keep track. His best friend, Lee Jeno, on the other hand, lived for parties like this. Jaemin used that to his advantage; Jeno was the perfect target to hand off his unwanted shots to.

“Jaemin!” Jeong Jaehyun, the captain of the basketball team, made his presence known easily. After all, the parties were always hosted at his house. “Let’s do a love shot.”

If it were anyone else, Jaemin would’ve turned them down with some sarcastic, witty comeback. However, Jaehyun was different. Jaemin admired him since they were high schoolers on the basketball team. Jaehyun was two years older but his skills were on another level. Jaemin had always worked to see if he could surpass him but to no avail.

“Sure.” Jaemin got off of the couch, where he was aimlessly scrolling through his social media and observing the party. He followed Jaehyun to the kitchen counter. “You got tequila?”

It was a stupid question. Jaehyun was loaded; his supply of alcohol seemed endless.

“Of course,” Jaehyun replied. He took a red solo cup and measured a shot of tequila. “By the way, why don’t you talk to any of the girls here? You seem tense. You should get laid.”

It wasn’t like Jaemin intentionally avoided the girls. He just had no interest in people who wanted to blindly hook-up and forget about it the next morning. He didn’t completely ignore them either. Jaemin distinctly remembered a pretty blonde passing him her vape pen, which he politely refused. While he didn’t mind destroying his liver, he wanted to keep his lungs intact.

“There’s no one here I want to fuck,” was Jaemin’s impassive response. “Especially not when they’re drunk off their ass.”

“Is that so? How much did you drink tonight?”

“This is my third or fourth shot, I think.”

Jaehyun snorted and held out the red solo cup to him. “Well, here’s to your intact virginity.”

“I’m not a virgin.” Jaemin took the cup and swished its contents around. “Can’t we toast to something more practical? Like basketball?”

A chuckle escaped Jaehyun’s lips, bemused like a father to his son. He eyed Jaemin as he held the red solo cup to his lips. “Ready?”

Jaehyun didn’t wait for Jaemin, though. He tipped his cup up, downing the contents, and Jaemin followed suit as quickly as he could. The tequila was a smooth burn down his throat, but it made Jaemin feel slow and hazy. The fire spread across his chest, spreading to his arms, legs, and then his head. He felt fuzzy and was sure he had hit his limit for the night.

Jaemin took an unstable step forward, and Jaehyun put a firm hand on his shoulder, asking, “You good?” to which Jaemin answered with a dazed nod. With a grin, Jaehyun patted his back firmly. “See you when we’re both conscious again, man.”

The next thirty minutes were a blur. Jaemin found himself at a beer pong table and, in his drunken state, pretended he was practicing his free throws while he relished the crowd cheering him on. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, cheering wildly at the side until he got a headache. Eventually, the house felt too stuffy and he decided to go out to the backyard to let his buzz fade out.

Outside wasn’t any better. The cheers were louder outside and the music was still blasting. The fog in Jaemin’s head thickened and he was sure he felt hands trying to guide him to the pool, but he brushed them off. He narrowed his eyes onto a lawn chair and willed himself to walk straight towards it.

Sit, he ordered himself. Do not get in the pool and make a fool out of yourself.

After pushing past a few of his teammates and the girls hovering around them, Jaemin’s knees buckled under him as soon as he got to the lawn chair. It was damp when he sat down, but he was too drunk and dazed to care. Jaemin looked up at the sky, unfocused, and was only pulled from his thoughts when his phone went off.

annoying jeno: where tf did u go? this girl wants me to introduce her to u

It was time for another shot.

Jaemin felt heavy. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, and spotted a red solo cup on the side table to his right. He reached for it and inspected the contents, sloshing it around sluggishly until he noticed a pair of eyes boring into him.

You were isolating yourself from the rest of the party, just like him. You weren’t giving him the sex eyes like he had expected; you looked more confused. Unlike Jaemin, you looked much more sober and functional. It was painfully obvious by the way Jaemin couldn’t seem to focus on you without seeing double.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol in his system, but Jaemin had no idea who you were, but fuck, he wanted to. He pushed it down, though. Hookups were never fulfilling, and Jaemin wasn’t here to let himself go.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jaemin asked in a low voice, trying to speak coherently without slurring his words. He wasn’t sure if it worked, but you seemed to understand.

To his surprise, you fired a question back at him. “What are you doing?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was obviously drunk off his ass, so what was he supposed to explain when it was clear as day?

“Waiting for this stupid party to be over,” Jaemin replied. He dropped his gaze back to the cup he held on his lap. “Why are you still staring? I’m not interested.”

“You’re holding my drink.”

Jaemin stilled. He looked between you and the cup for a moment before muttering a pathetic “oh.” He flushed and held the cup out to you. “Sorry.”

You took the cup gingerly and downed your shot before advising him, “You know, you shouldn’t be taking random cups and drinking from them at parties. You never know what they could be laced with.”

Jaemin’s head lolled to the side, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t want to join the party, but he didn’t want to sit back and be scolded. He was debating making a run for the fence in Jaehyun’s backyard. His house was only a few blocks away and he was pretty sure he’d be sober enough to make it. Jeno, however, was the obstacle he was worried about. If he ran off without telling Jeno (who was going to disapprove anyway), he was sure to get an earful the next day.

“Also,” you continued, “don’t go around assuming every girl who looks in your general direction wants to fuck you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaemin grumbled, too drained to argue back. “Shouldn’t you be partying with everyone? It’s depressing over here.”

“This isn’t my party to celebrate,” you said, biting down on the rim of your cup delicately. “I’m just here for the drinks.”

Jaemin didn’t know what to say to that, so he decided to introduce himself. “I’m Na Jaemin, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied. “Pleasure to meet you, Na Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyelashes were obscuring his vision as he tried to squint to make you out. He wasn’t sure if it was the drunken stupor, but you were breathtaking. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Jaemin was currently seeing double of you. Jaemin wasn’t sure how he had ever missed you at any of the other parties (if you even showed up to those), but he was glad he snuck away to the backyard now.

Jaemin turned back to look at the scene before him, full of shrieks and shouts from partygoers as they danced off-beat to the blasting music. He almost didn’t notice the ultimate bastard, Yuta Nakamoto, walking over with his eyes set on not Jaemin, but you. Yuta only seemed to see Jaemin when he neared the two and, despite the awkward pause in the air, held his hand up to fistbump him. Jaemin lazily returned it, not really processing until seconds later when Yuta had already passed him.

It wasn’t that Yuta and Jaemin had any bad blood between them. Rather, Jaemin found the older boy quite fun to be around, and on top of that, he was a really supportive and caring teammate. However, when it came to parties, Yuta tended to be a lot more high-energy than Jaemin was.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuta crooned deviously, standing over you with his hands shoved in his pockets. He crouched down so he was at eye-level with you, holding onto the arm of your chair. “Care to dance with me?”

“Yuta Nakamoto,” you drawled, a smile appearing on your lips. “I’m good over here, but you go have fun.”

Yuta stood up again, a cat-like grin spreading from ear-to-ear across his face as he stepped back toward the pool. “You’re gonna miss out, Y/N. You cool with that?”

The smile never left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Yuta turned to dive into the pool, making Jaemin’s nose scrunch as the splash was big enough to get water on his clothes. When Yuta surfaced, he smoothed his hair back and wiped the excess water from his face. He caught your eye again, winking before swimming toward Jungwoo and splashing him, leaving you shaking your head and chuckling.

“You two close?” Jaemin asked in a mumble, not quite sure where he was going with the sudden conversation.

You were shocked momentarily, but smiled when you looked over at Jaemin. “Let’s just say he wants to get in my pants but I find the age gap inappropriate.”

Jaemin snorted. “Really? How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Jaemin rose a brow. He was just a year older than you but not so far off from Yuta. He hadn’t seen many college students be so conscious of a legal age difference of a year or two. After all, nearly everyone was an adult anyway.

“That’s not so far off from Yuta,” he told you.

You hid a smile, nearly going unnoticed under the dim light, but Jaemin had just caught it in time. “He’s like, my brother’s age,” you replied. “It’s just weird.”

Jaemin didn’t really get it, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He was an only child so he didn’t really think his opinion was valid anyway. Yet, he must have been looking at you weird because you bit your lip and shrunk under his gaze. Jaemin swallowed and turned back to look down at his feet, trying to get his head out of the clouds, but the buzz was still too strong.

He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What if it was me?”

“Huh?”

He wasn’t looking at you but he could feel your gaze boring into him. Jaemin wanted to melt into a puddle then and there. He was never the type to make a move like that, usually expecting girls to approach him, but now that he did, his skin was crawling with shame. Although, he figured it wouldn’t be too bad if he ended the night in bed with you.

Jaemin worked up the courage to turn his gaze to you. “I’m a year older than you. Would you be down if it was me?”

“Yeah,” you admitted bluntly, causing the tips of Jaemin’s ears to go red. “But I don’t know you, so…”

“Do you want to?” he asked, then clarified, “Get to know me, I mean.”

The two of you were silent for a moment, and it was far more deafening than the booming party around them. Jaemin’s gaze dropped from your face to look back at the college students wading around in the pool. Someone must have messed with the pool because it had started to fill up with bubbles, making the crowd cheer louder. Entranced, Jaemin nearly didn’t notice you when you were standing right over him. He arched a brow at you, scooting back a little out of shock.

“Do you want to get out of here then?”

You were smiling coyly and Jaemin didn’t have the willpower to resist anymore. He stood up, looking around for Jeno, before turning to you and nodding. Everyone was so consumed with the pool foaming up that it would be easy for them to escape from the backyard.

“I’m way too drunk to drive, but we can go for a walk,” Jaemin suggested, leading her out through the backyard fence. He had escaped from there countless times, only for Jeno to drag him back, but this time, Jeno was preoccupied.

Yet, something unsettled him about not informing his best friend, so he decided to shoot him a quick text.

jaemin: i’ll see u back home, i’m with a girl lol

annoying jeno: deadass? have fun

Now, at least Jaemin had one thing off his chest.

“So what’s your deal?” Jaemin asked you as he tried to focus on walking in a straight line. “You have guys like Yuta Nakamoto lining up for you and you’re passing up my boy?”

“If he’s your boy then why are you trying to make a pass at me?” you shot back, grabbing his arm to provide leverage when he stumbled.

“Touché,” Jaemin grumbled. “It’s not like he was scoring, so I might as well shoot my shot.”

“Did you score?”

The corner of Jaemin’s mouth twitched. “That’s for you to decide, isn’t it?”

Mutual attraction was such a strange feeling because the sexual tension was there and so loud. Granted, about 90% of it came from Jaemin, but something about the way you were still holding onto his arm and laughing at his stupid jokes made him feel like something was going to happen tonight.

“We should stargaze,” you offered, pointing at a grassy hill behind a park the both of you were passing by. Jaemin nodded in response, so you dragged him by the arm to the chosen location.

Stargazing meant laying down, and laying down meant not having to focus on walking in a straight line anymore, so it sounded absolutely heavenly to Jaemin right now. Somehow, he felt like such an amateur right now. No girl had ever asked him to lay down and stargaze with him; they always just skipped to the bedroom fun.

You let go of Jaemin to lay down on the grass, positioning yourself like a starfish before patting the space next to you and then moving your hands to rest on your stomach. You looked entranced with the stars above you, but the moment Jaemin laid down next to you, you turned to him, catching him off-guard. Jaemin’s eyes flickered from you to the sky above.

“The stars are beautiful,” he said weakly.

He couldn’t even see the fucking stars.

“Damn, I thought you were gonna call me beautiful for a second,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“You wish,” Jaemin said with a light snort, swallowing thickly. “There’s no way I’m calling a girl that over my dead body.”

He was a terrible liar. It was clear when Na Jaemin was feeling lustful. His eyes would turn half-lidded and his voice would drop a few octaves. Right now, all of that was happening along with his fingers twitching at his sides. You were looking back up at the sky when he turned his head to look at you, and god, you were so pretty.

“Girls must come running for you,” you told him, “otherwise I really can’t figure out the ego.”

“That’s the problem when you’re a star basketball player and devilishly handsome.” Jaemin grinned, folding his arms behind his head. “You turn out like me.”

“How mortifying.”

“I know, right?” Jaemin turned onto his side for a brief moment to look at you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before. I’m sure I would’ve remembered…”

“Because I’m beautiful?” you offered.

Jaemin groaned, pink dusting his cheeks. “Why are you so fixed on that?”

You laughed in response while Jaemin just stared at the heartstopping curve of your lips. He felt himself grow hot, anticipation mixed with the weight of the situation. He had never been the type to feel so jittery around a girl, but here he was, a touch anxious because he was afraid of doing something wrong.

“That’s Orion’s Belt there,” you pointed out. “Can you see Betelgeuse?”

You turned to look at Jaemin to see if you had his attention, but did a double-take upon realizing that you, in fact, had his full attention. His eyes were directly on you, not the night sky above. The both of you were so painfully close, and Jaemin couldn’t resist when he reached over to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“I can’t see the stars,” he mumbled, his large hand moving to cup your cheek. When your gazes were locked, he caressed your cheek with his thumb gently and leaned in to kiss you.

Well, he was about to kiss you until he felt your finger pressing against his lips.

“I’m down for whatever,” you told him sweetly, “but I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Jaemin wasn’t sure what to make of that. Sure, he found it a little weird, but he could see the reasoning behind it. You were probably one of those people who saved your kisses for something special—whatever that meant. Honestly, Jaemin didn’t really care about the significance, but he did know it would be amplified if he found “the one.”

“So this is a date now?” he asked, amused.

“Somewhat.”

Jaemin huffed lightly and leaned back, letting his hand retract back to his side. “Down for whatever? Even sex?”

You raised a very attractive eyebrow at him, making Jaemin short-circuit for a split second. “If you play your cards right,” you said airily, your voice all light and fluffy.

“Down for whatever but the offer isn’t extended to anyone over the age of twenty-one.”

You punched his shoulder hard this time. “Bite me.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Whatever made Jaemin’s confidence swell was taking over fast. In seconds, Jaemin propped himself up with his elbow, using his free hand to brush your hair to the side and tilting your neck so he could have easier access to it.

To test the waters, Jaemin nipped at your supple skin, earning a hitch in your slowed breathing that encouraged him to do more. Jaemin left open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking harshly with each one. He licked his lips when he pulled away to look at your neck. You were tough to bruise but he loved a challenge. He maneuvered his body over you so he could indulge himself further, holding himself up with his forearms.

Jaemin dipped under your chin again, ravishing the side of your neck that he targeted. He littered the column of your neck with dark hickeys, smirking against your skin upon the sight. You were a squirming mess under him, tugging at his hair and bucking your hips up against his. Jaemin grunted softly, his hands pushing your hips down so you could no longer tempt him.

You wrapped your hands around him, one hand sliding up the nape of his neck to curl your fingers in his hair. Hands weren’t normally something that made Jaemin weak, but yours were driving him crazy with one in his hair and the other bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

He cupped the apex of your jeans, smug as you whined at his touch, yearning for more. Jaemin’s free hand grazed your waist before he lowered it to your hip. He pulled away from your neck to meet your gaze, biting his lip at your lustful expression.

“Can I?” he asked, pressing down slightly against your apex.

You nodded, about to say something but got cut off when Jaemin moved his hand down and palmed your clothed clit. Jaemin smirked once he heard the soft sigh falling from your lips. His breathing got heavier, mixing with yours as he started fumbling to unbutton your jeans.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Jaemin…”

Jaemin swallowed hard and tugged your jeans down your hips a little. He felt like he was losing control with every touch. He just wanted to hold you in his arms and spend the rest of the night with you, and it was impossible to shake off that feeling when you were looking at him like that.

He playfully snapped the waistband of your panties, letting out a chuckle when your face twisted up and you pushed at his chest. Then, you drew him closer again and guided his hand down your pants. Jaemin took a shaky breath when he felt how wet you were. It filled him with pride, of course, but he had suddenly felt so nervous. He had hooked up with girls before, but this felt weird to him. Different, to an extent. They were just going through the motions, but he was struck with some strange feeling that he didn’t want to mess up or do something wrong. It was like his first time all over again when he had no idea what he was doing.

His silent cry for help was answered with rain.

“Jesus, it’s raining now?” Jaemin asked with a disapproving huff, pulling his hand out of your pants. He wondered if the people in Jaehyun’s backyard were going to move back inside or keep partying through rain and storm.

“It is?” You frowned and reached a hand over him to catch some raindrops. “You make a nice umbrella, Na Jaemin.”

“How kind of you,” Jaemin replied, a bit distracted by the rain pelting his back. “Should we make a run back to Jaehyun’s or do you want to, like…”

“Do I want to do it outside in the rain?” you asked, quirking a brow at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Worth a shot.”

Jaemin hauled himself up to his feet, holding a hand out for you so you could stand. You started patting down your clothes and fixing your fly. Jaemin did the same, making sure he looked presentable but he kept quiet about the dark hickey on the side of your neck. He squinted up at the drizzle of rain from the sky.

Cockblock, Jaemin thought bitterly.

Yet another distraction came in the form of a text message. Specifically, a text message from Lee Jeno.

annoying jeno: i’m going back to the apartment and ik ur with a girl but i left the keys at home so pls open the door

“Son of a bitch,” Jaemin grumbled to himself. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked at you when he noticed your questioning stare. Jaemin ran his hands down your arms, then held your waist gently. “I have to go.”

“Go?” you asked him, startled.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied with a sigh, not wanting to divulge how idiotic his roommate was. “Can I get your number?”

This perked you right up, thankfully. Jaemin was satisfied as he watched you enter your phone number in his phone. This almost made him feel better about having to leave you alone to walk back to Jaehyun’s house in the rain.

Scratch that. He still felt like a piece of shit.

Jaemin slept off the party rather well.

He was in a bit of a mood, however, seeming tired and cranky in the morning. He had nearly thrown his phone at Jeno’s face when his best friend tried to shake him awake in the morning. It was a miracle that he showed up on time for his lecture. Around the afternoon, he received a text from you and was far more awake and alert after that. By the time he got to basketball, though, he was in a much better mood.

That is, until Jaehyun called for a team meeting.

The basketball team members were all sitting on the bleachers, waiting for a pissed-off Jaehyun to speak. Jeno picked at his nails next to Jaemin while YangYang in front of them was fiddling with the basketball. Jaehyun was only ever serious during games, but now his anger showed in a subtle and scary way that even Taeyong was a bit shaken by the change in his mood.

“Now, I’m going to say this once and you all better listen up carefully,” Jaehyun said in a low, dangerous voice. “If anyone—and I mean anyone—lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are.”

Taeyong whistled lowly, impressed.

“Yuta,” Jaehyun continued, eyes narrowing at the older boy, “this message was inspired by you.”

“Received, reflecting, and apologizing,” Yuta said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll back off, Captain.”

“Good,” Jaehyun replied curtly as Yuta and Taeyong started to banter playfully over the topic.

Jaemin was unsettled. Jaehyun was upset over someone going after his younger sister? Now, Yuta was a flirt, but he recalled him pining for you last night and there was no way you were Jaehyun’s sister, right?

“Hey, Jeno.” Jaemin nudged the boy with his elbow. “Who exactly is Jaehyun’s sister?”

“Isn’t it Jeong Y/N?” he answered.

Goodbye world, was Jaemin’s first thought.

Yuta was flirting with you last night, but Jaemin straight-up nearly fingered you and—oh god, the hickey. Jaemin was at the end of his line right now, and if you said anything to Jaehyun, he was sure he was going to get his ass beat. He was starting to regret giving up his non-hookup life because of you; the only person Jaemin was flirting with now was Death.

“You good?” Jeno’s brows were knitted in concern.

“Jeno.” Jaemin swallowed down the dry lump in his throat. “Remember how I told you I was with a girl last night?”

“Yeah?” Jeno asked, searching Jaemin’s eyes for an answer. He found it rather quickly, eyes widening and voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh my god.” His gaze flickered from Jaemin to Jaehyun several times. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jaemin whispered back. “We were both drunk. I’ll just ghost her subtly and she’ll forget about me. Easy.”

Jeno raised a brow at his plan. “Is hooking up with Jaehyun’s little sister worse than breaking her heart?”

“Oh please, it was one night. Give it a day or two. She won’t give a fuck.” Even though I kind of do, he added in his head.

The next time Jaemin saw you was after practice ended a few days later.

It had to be impossible that you could look any better than you did the last time he saw you, but here you were. It was unfair, really. Jaemin was a college student that was amped up with testosterone and hormones, and now he had no place to channel it. He was a second away from dragging you into an empty room and letting himself go with you, but then he remembered your older brother, and the horny thoughts dissolved into fear and shame.

“Ah, Jaemin,” you greeted with a cheerful smile.

Fuck, why did you have to be so cute?

Jaemin opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it and looked away from you. He leaned against the side of the bleachers and sighed while you were puzzled by his behavior. Although he wanted to ignore you, you were right there and the two of you were alone. Jaemin knew that the other guys wouldn’t be out of the locker rooms for another five minutes.

His gaze dropped to your hickey. It was so clear that you didn’t bother trying to cover it up, and the sight made Jaemin feel proud in some twisted way. Instinctively, he reached over and brushed his thumb over the sensitive bruise, smirking when you shivered.

“It looks good on you,” Jaemin complimented.

“Thanks.” You scoffed, then a mischievous glint shone in your eyes. “Maybe you should give me some more then.”

Jaemin stiffened, in a lot more ways than he should’ve. He gritted his teeth, willing the blood not to rush down all at once. He could not get horny at school when Jaehyun could walk out any second. And the older boy did. Jaemin backed away from you instantly, acting as if you were just some stranger passing by.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered under his breath and was sure you heard when he saw your face drop.

Great. Now he felt like an asshole.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled quickly before you could say anything else, moving past you to walk over to Jeno, high-fiving Jaehyun as he did. Jaemin didn’t have time to register your expression, but nevertheless, he felt like shit.

Jeno looked suspicious as Jaemin approached him. “Did you…”

“End it?” Jaemin finished for him. “I think so.”

“Can you just stop being a dick and talk to her?”

Ticked off, Jaemin took a deep breath. “If I talk to her, then one thing will lead to another, and Jaehyun—”

“Jaemin,” Jeno interrupted. “This isn’t about Jaehyun. This is about you and Y/N.”

Jaemin screamed out something incomprehensible and put his hands over his ears. “I can’t hear you, Lee Jeno. Can’t hear you over me getting ready to go to a party and get wasted tonight.”

“Na Jaemin, you’re my best friend but you’re an idiot.”

“I know that.” Jaemin made a face. “But it’s time for me to go and forget that.”

Jaemin never failed to forget how much he hated parties. He was starting to regret showing up in the first place. One of his teammates, Jungwoo, had let him into his frat party. Normally, guys were selectively chosen because the frat boys wanted more girls, but Jaemin was wasting his opportunity of getting in by doing absolutely nothing.

This was why he didn’t like drinking. He wasn’t even fun when he was drunk; Jeno was a social butterfly, Yuta was a flirt, but Jaemin would just wonder if plants existed and think about you.

“You look pissed off,” Jungwoo observed, holding out a red dixie cup to him. “Are you sure you want to party?”

“Yes,” Jaemin grumbled, taking the cup from him and downing it in seconds. “I need to let go.”

“Of?”

“Myself.”

Jaemin patted Jungwoo’s back firmly and moved to the kitchen to pour himself another shot. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He let himself get all worked up over some girl he barely even hooked up with. All he did was kiss your neck and here Jaemin was, looking like some cheap, heartbroken loser.

Oh, Jaemin thought out of the blue. I never told her she was pretty.

Jaemin took another shot, closing his eyes firmly as he thought of laying next to you again under the stars. Your lips looked so soft and kissable, your eyes so curious and alluring. He tried to push it away and focus on the party and getting drunk, but you kept appearing in his head like a mirage.

Let go, Jaemin, he told himself. Indulge yourself.

Jaemin leaned against the counter, bored. He sloshed the contents of his cup around, taking another shot when he felt the buzz start to wear out. A pretty brunette walked past him, flashing a coy smile.

He supposed she was one of the cheerleaders, or maybe she was a sorority girl. Either way, she was attractive and Jaemin could use the physical contact tonight. Part of him felt like it was the wrong thing to do, but all he could think about was how annoying it was to overthink every little thing he did.

Jaemin made his way over to her, tapping people’s shoulders and maneuvering his way through the cramped frat house. Everyone was clustered like schools of fish. Jaemin hated this kind of environment, but nevertheless, he put on a mask and did his best to fit in.

“Hey,” he greeted the girl once he found her. “I’m Na Jaemin.”

She smiled in that pretty way again. “I know you. You’re on the basketball team.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, flushing as she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I bet you don’t know me, though.”

“I don’t,” Jaemin admitted, “but you have a gorgeous smile.”

She beamed at this. “Hey, could you hold my cup for a second?” she asked, holding out her red dixie cup to him.

You want me to hold your cup when you can barely hold a conversation? Jaemin thought distastefully but took the cup anyway.

He leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for her patiently, and when she came back, Jaemin could tell she had left to touch-up her makeup. He could also detect the faintest spritz of perfume, but he wasn’t exactly sure, so he leaned closer to make sure.

Jaemin wasn’t sure how they ended up making out in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs, but by the time she was taking off her bra, he wanted to leave. He did his best not to look as bored as he felt throughout the heavy petting and removal of clothing, but his biggest fuck-up was worse than he had expected.

Even Jaemin himself felt mortified by what had just escaped his lips. By the disgusted look in the girl’s eyes, he was fairly confident this was going to spread around the school. As Jaemin was trying to conjure up some excuse for his actions, the girl stood up and started gathering her clothes.

“I’m not Y/N,” she muttered and left him alone in the room.

“Well, shit,” Jaemin grumbled, running a hand through his tousled hair after she left. “Should’ve told me your name then.”

Jaemin laid back on the bed, putting his hands over his face. He was royally screwed at this point and wondered if he had a shot at redemption. The fact that you were still on his mind was messing with him. Even now, after totally embarrassing himself, he was still stuck on you. To avoid further embarrassment, he pulled out his phone to deflect whatever impulsive action was creeping up his limbs.

jaemin: ok jeno im texting u instead of drunk texting y/n and confessing how badly i wanna kiss her

y/n: hi this is y/n

Jaemin wondered what sin he committed in his past life to get this unlucky.

jaemin: shit

jaemin: don’t talk to me i’m drunk at a party

y/n: jaemin you texted me first

jaemin: ugh i wanna see u so bad

jaemin: wanna make it up to u

y/n: oh my

y/n: you’re a little too drunk for that

y/n: but send me the address. i’ll come over and take you home

Jaemin was 98.75% sure that this was, by far, the stupidest thing he could do. Nevertheless, he shared his address with you and waited for you to come to get him. He hung out with Jungwoo in the meantime, slinging an arm around the older boy’s shoulder and confessing his embarrassing hookup while Jungwoo was high as a kite.

When you texted Jaemin that you were outside the frat house, he opened the door almost instantly. Jaemin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face when you were standing right in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but Jaemin cut you off.

“I might have… might have called out your name during a hookup,” he confessed, slurring his words while he tried to speak coherently.

You looked like you were deciding whether to think it was funny or be suspicious over the fact that he tried to hook up with someone and then texted you afterward. Eventually, you ended up laughing at his story, tutting at his actions. Jaemin walked by your side, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He closed his eyes in an attempt to come back to his senses, only to be dragged back onto the sidewalk by you because he was apparently straying into the road.

“How much did you drink?” was your first question and one that Jaemin wasn’t sure he had an answer for.

“Six? Seven shots?” Jaemin counted but lost track after he held up five fingers. “I haven’t gotten this hammered in a while.”

“You’ve been flighty,” you told him. “I thought I wasn’t going to hear from you again.”

Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was the plan.”

“What?”

End it now, Jaemin, the devious half of his mind instructed. Break it off before it’s too late.

“I don’t exactly do hookups anymore, Y/N,” he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but you happened to break that streak for him. But then came the lie. “I’m not looking for anything serious now either, and I’m sure you aren’t.”

They walked in silence onto the campus grounds, turning into the street where the student apartments were. You looked down at your feet, a little more disappointed than Jaemin had expected. More than that, it looked as though you were embarrassed.

Cue Na Jaemin feeling like a douchebag, which he was.

“Aren’t you the one who asked if I wanted to get to know you?” you asked him, brow arched.

Jaemin panicked, his words trapped in his throat for a second. Well, you got him there. He didn’t have a good excuse that made him sound less of a dick. Although, he was already probably about to be blacklisted from your life pretty soon, so it didn’t really matter.

“I was drunk,” Jaemin said as his brain was trying to throw random words at him. “I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

They made it to Jaemin’s apartment, which was thankfully on the first floor because he didn’t think he could stand an awkward elevator ride with you. You didn’t look at Jaemin once, but it didn’t seem as though you were angry. Rather, you looked confused, but Jaemin swallowed down his guilt and took a step back once they were at his door.

“Besides,” he continued shamelessly to deliver the final blow, “you always have Yuta.”

You rolled your eyes at him and stormed off at once after those words. Jaemin was left alone, still looking down at his feet. He let out a long, dragged-out sigh, hitting his head back against the solid wood of his door.

“Idiot,” he scolded himself.

It took Jaemin a whole week and a half to get over you.

Even then, he didn’t really get over what happened. He just stopped blaming himself for it in front of Jeno and internalized everything else. Talking to Jeno didn’t really help, anyway, because Jaemin would just be hit with the “I told you so” and then be silently judged by his best friend.

Jeno had gone home for the long weekend, though, so Jaemin could finally mope about his apartment without Jeno smacking him upside the head and calling him a loser. Although Jaemin agreed with that, he was tired of remembering how shitty of a person and it was a constant reminder of how he treated you.

Although, he didn’t expect that reminder to physically manifest when he saw you in the hallway of his apartment on Friday night.

“Y/N?” he blurted out impulsively.

Jaemin had just decided to get something from the vending machine, not expecting to see you when he was standing in front of his doorway in his grey sweatpants and lack of shirt. His hair was bedraggled from staying in bed all day after his morning lecture ended. In short, he wasn’t exactly presentable and this wasn’t the look he wanted you to see.

“Jaemin,” you said softly, looking a bit startled. “I was just leaving my friend’s place.”

“Look—”

“It’s fine, Jaemin.” You managed a small smile for him. “There’s no hard feelings, okay? Water under the bridge.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said, biting your lip afterward. “I just hope you’re not one of those guys who ghosts the girl if they don’t get sex out of it.”

Jaemin could feel the ice in your tone but brushed it off. “Honestly, I don’t care about sex that much.”

“Then what do you care about?”

Jaemin fixed his gaze on you, narrowing his eyes. He should have been grateful that you didn’t take it too personally and had forgiven him, but something was off. He didn’t doubt your reasons for being here, but an undercurrent of desire was definitely still there.

His morals were bouncing around his skull, warring with each other. Jaehyun was yelling at him to stop, but you were also there, and so fucking pretty. You wanted him, and he wanted you—it was almost perfect if it weren’t for your overprotective older brother who Jaemin respected too much. Then again, Jaemin had been shouldering too much guilt over the past week. He was sure he could handle some more.

What Jaehyun didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

The hallway was empty, doused with lingering sleep. The world was dark outside but under the dim, flickering hallway light was you. And Jaemin was at his limit; he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, and something inside him snapped.

He grabbed your hands first before pushing you up against the wall and sealing his lips over yours. Your face morphed into a shocked expression, only making Jaemin amused as he pinned your hands up and over your head. Your lips were so warm and soft, molding against Jaemin’s lips perfectly. He felt your hands wrap around his neck to draw him closer, inciting a soft groan from the back of his throat. It was kind of pathetic that he was already hard, and he was sure you were aware of it by how he was pressed up against your lower body.

Jaemin picked you up effortlessly, scooping you into his arms by your thighs. You let out a little shriek and grabbed onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his torso at his encouragement. Jaemin took you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot before heading to his room and dropping you on his bed.

He had never actually let a girl into his room, so this was a first. Somehow, seeing you on his own bed was so arousing, and he had half a mind to just take you then and there. Jaemin made you sit at the edge of the bed while he stood between your legs, hands on your thighs. You looked confused for a moment, but let Jaemin run his hands up and down your thighs.

You and Jaemin should not be in bed together. Under no circumstances should the two of you even be acquainted in the slightest. The fact that you two met was all one big, cosmic coincidence, but sometimes the stars loved fucking around with human affairs.

“I told you I had to make it up to you,” Jaemin said in a low voice, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “You don’t have to forgive me but I can’t keep being a coward.”

“A coward? More like a douchebag,” you told him, holding his wrist so you could bite the tip of his finger as you looked up at him through your lashes. “But glad you came to your senses.”

“So you forgive me then?”

You smiled, all innocent and pure, unlike your words. “Not unless you make it up to me.”

Jaemin dropped his gaze down to your shorts, eyeing them for a moment before he started tugging them down. You raised your hips to help him take your shorts off, followed by your panties. Jaemin nearly sighed at the sight of you; you were so gorgeous and so ready for him. He wanted to completely blow your mind.

Then, the nerves got to Jaemin again.

“Y/N,” he started, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just cuddle or something.”

“Na Jaemin, if you don’t make me cum, I will scream,” you warned.

“Yeah?” Jaemin chuckled at your reaction. “I think you’re going to scream either way, though.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. He caressed your cheek, rubbing slow circles with his thumb before he dragged it down to your jawline. A small pout appeared on your lips and he ran his thumb over your bottom lip again as if he could wipe your pout away.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Jaemin said.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, Jaemin plunged his finger in you, thumb quickly finding purchase on your clit and rubbing in slow, languid circles. He wasn’t very satisfied by your shell-shocked silence, so he added a second finger to get you moaning and squirming at his actions.

You gasped when Jaemin curled his fingers, and he relished the dazed expression on your face. He watched your eyelashes flutter and eyelids droop as he scissored his fingers in you, earning him blissful moans from your pretty lips. One of your hands was gripping the sheets at your side while the other was gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly. He knew he was doing a good job by the way your walls clenched around his fingers, and it made him swell with pride.

“You’re such an asshole,” you whimpered out, moaning again as he curled his fingers in you.

“Then why do you still want me?” Jaemin hissed. “You should have just hated me. I would have been fine if you weren’t so fucking perfect.”

You cried out as he plunged another finger in you. “Shit, you’re just—oh god.” Jaemin could tell you were at your peak, so he pulled his fingers out of you immediately, smirking at how distressed you looked.

Jaemin popped his fingers in his mouth, sucking off your juices. “You taste so good, princess.”

You scowled at him. “F-finish me off, at least,” you pleaded.

Jaemin gripped your thighs. “Oh, trust me, I will.”

Jaemin lowered himself and met your eyes before he leaned forward and sealed his lips over your clit, sucking harshly on the ball of nerves. You were so sweet and so wet, but what made Jaemin go crazy was the way the both of you locked eyes while he was between your legs. He let out a groan that vibrated against you.

He licked a strip along your slit, pleased with his reward of pants and moans from you. Your thighs squirmed around him so he gripped them harder and moved his hands up to your hips so he could eat you out with more vigor.

Jaemin snaked his tongue along your folds and you were gone. Already edged from being fingered, you were at your peak already. Back arching off the bed and hips squirming, Jaemin tongued your clit as he coaxed you into your orgasm. By the sound of your moans and cries, he felt like he was going to cum in his pants any second if you didn’t stop. You released over his tongue so easily, and Jaemin lapped it up as you made an effort to catch your breath.

At first, Jaemin was over the moon. He hooked up with you and wanted more. You were so enticing and Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. Then came the crushing guilt. It registered a bit late, but it was all the more painful. He had just eaten out his friend’s little sister and couldn’t help the fact that he wanted her so badly.

“Not bad, Jaemin,” you breathed out, fixing your hair as your thighs still stiffened and twitched every now and then. “Is this the part where you push me away and ghost me for another week?”

Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, battling frustration and shame. “Look,” he started, “the reason I pushed you away was because you didn’t tell me your brother is Jeong Jaehyun!”

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “Yeah, he’s my brother. Is that a problem?” Jaemin let out a heavy sigh and you raised a brow at him. “You got a crush on him or something?”

Jaemin’s expression soured. “No! He’s my friend and teammate, Y/N. There’s an unspoken bro code between us men.”

You rolled your eyes. “Here we go.”

“Rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits,” Jaemin said. “And, Y/N, we just pushed that limit.”

“You know, in girl code, we ask the friend for permission,” you offered.

“Jaehyun rounded us up at practice and told us that if anyone lays a hand on his little sister, he’s going to kill them,” Jaemin said. “I’m too young to die.”

You stood up to push Jaemin down by his shoulders, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Jaemin’s breath got caught in his throat when you sat on his lap, right where his bulge was painfully tented beneath his sweatpants. You traced his v-cut abs, making Jaemin shiver in response. He held your hips and swallowed thickly. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. If you were about to ride him, he was sure he could die a happy man.

“Jaemin, my brother doesn’t control my life, so he’s not killing you over anything, okay?” you reassured him, then leaned in closer, nibbling on his earlobe. Jaemin shivered at the contact, tightening his grip on you. “But, if you’re so worried about it, then we could sneak around.”

A guttural groan escaped Jaemin when you rolled your hips against his. Were you teasing him? Because it was hard for him to think and this distraction wasn’t helping. Either way, all he could think about was making you cum again and seeing that delicate look on your face as you crumbled in front of him.

“Sneak—sneak around?” Jaemin stammered, mouth going dry when you started taking off your shirt, and fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Huh?”

“Jaemin,” you said slowly, smirking as you traced a finger along his jawline. “If you don’t want Jaehyun to catch us, we can just meet up secretly.”

If this was a game of cat and mouse, there was a clear power difference right now; Jaemin felt more like the mouse while you were the cat.

Jaemin’s eyes darkened a bit. “Fuck yeah,” he mumbled, hand grazing your bare skin. His eyes devoured the way you looked, and you wanted to squirm at the hungry look on his face. It was kind of embarrassing how badly Jaemin wanted to skip this whole conversation and fuck you into oblivion.

“Jaemin,” you called again, noting how his eyes flitted from your lips to your eyes.

He gave up. “I’ll be honest. I have no idea what we’re talking about but if we’re keeping this going between us, I’m all for it.”

“Good answer,” you hummed and pressed your lips to his.

You were a damn good kisser, Jaemin observed. He didn’t notice it before, but you had on some sort of fruity chapstick on that was making his head go fuzzy. The taste was addicting, and thank god you bit down on his lower lip because he wasn’t sure if he could handle another second without his tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away for a moment so he could push you down onto the bed, getting over you. Jaemin sighed deeply as you skimmed your hands down his bare chest, fingers tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You know, I lied that night,” you told Jaemin, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m not usually down for whatever, but I wanted to try my chance with you.”

Jaemin tutted at you, circling a finger around your nipple. “You shouldn’t have lied, Y/N,” he said, making you whimper when he pinched your hard nipple. “Could’ve stroked my ego a little more.”

“Sorry, but I’m not here to stroke your ego, Jaemin,” you simpered, choking over your words when Jaemin pressed open-mouthed kisses to your chest, eventually snaking his hot tongue across your nipple.

“You already are,” Jaemin murmured against your skin, littering hickeys as he kissed your chest. “Your reactions are so cute.”

Jaemin sucked on his fingers for a brief moment to provide some extra lubrication, not that you really needed it. He used his pointer and middle finger to rub against your slit, your whines growing needier as you became more and more aroused. After one more needy mewl from your lips, Jaemin had enough. He tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, his hard cock slapping against his stomach once it was free.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned brokenly, eyeing the length of his cock.

“Such a good girl,” he crooned down at you, teasing his cock against your slit until you were a gasping, moaning mess under him. Then, Jaemin pulled away, clicking his tongue and grinning while you narrowed your eyes at him. “Condom,” he remembered.

Jaemin got off the bed to retrieve the silver packet from his nightstand, tearing it open with his teeth in one go. He caught you staring at how incredibly hung he was, smirking proudly as he slid the condom onto his shaft. He pumped it once for good measure and moved back onto the bed with you.

He stayed on his knees, angling your hips up so that they were positioned with his cock. You looked confused by the awkward position, but Jaemin melted away your worries with a powerful thrust into you. He groaned at how tight you were with your warm, wet walls clenching around him rhythmically.

Jaemin could tell he was hitting all the right spots by the broken moans that were escaping you when he pounded in you. His own growls were low and grating, relishing the way you felt around him. You were clutching his sheets so tight and bucking your hips so often that Jaemin had to use a hand to push your lower abdomen down, smirking as he felt his cock move in and out of you.

“You’re so big,” you gasped out, looking visibly frustrated at how you couldn’t hold onto him.

“Princess, I regret not doing this earlier,” Jaemin admitted with another rough thrust into you, making you sob out some distorted version of his name. “You feel so fucking good.”

“I’m close,” you choked out, and Jaemin kindly aided you by rubbing your clit as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.

You tucked your head into your shoulder, biting back your cries, so Jaemin grabbed your hair in a fistful and tilted it back so he could see your face. A shudder ran down his spine. Your expression was so perfect, so fucked in and glazed over.

“Shit,” he growled, voice raspy from arousal as you came undone in front of him.

His nimble fingers continued to work on your clit as you fell apart, moans ringing in his ears like a song. He followed you into your bliss, unable to hold back. He leaned over you and continued fucking you through your orgasm, holding you and groaning as he, too, released.

Jaemin stopped when he was done and spent. His arms buckled as they struggled to keep himself over you, and he could only pull out and collapse by your side. He muttered out a few curses, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared up at the ceiling. That felt good? No, too dry. I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like that? No, too possessive.

He settled with “you’re amazing” as his chest rose and fell in tune with yours.

“Likewise,” you breathed out and looked over at him. “I have to go home soon.”

Jaemin didn’t know what came over him, but he rolled over and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Normally, he wasn’t one for cuddling or aftercare, but he didn’t want you to go so soon. You relaxed under his touch as Jaemin drew you closer to his body, pulling the sheets over you both.

“Don’t go,” Jaemin whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear.

You turned to look at him, running your finger along his cheek tenderly. “Jaehyun’s gonna ask.”

Jaemin threw the sheets off of you and stood up quickly. “Have a safe trip back.”

It was the very next day when Jaemin hooked up with you again.

You had sent him a rather suggestive text, stating that you found it strenuous to walk after the previous night. In some sick and twisted way, Jaemin found this extremely hot and invited you over that night. Needless to say, you found it even more difficult to walk afterward.

The next day was the last day of the long weekend, so you spent nearly the entire day at Jaemin’s place before Jeno came home. Sure, you had sex once or twice then, but Jaemin really liked having you around. Even when you both weren’t exactly doing anything, your mere presence was comforting to him. In past hookups with other girls, he would always just get up and leave after the deed was done. However, with you, he was suddenly a sucker for aftercare.

Jaemin still felt like shit for going behind Jaehyun’s back and he was starting to question his stealth when Jeno came back home and discovered your bra on the couch.

“Oh, that’s where it was,” Jaemin said blankly, taking the bra from Jeno. “By the way, how was visiting your family?”

Jeno was still stuck on the bra, however. “Hold on,” he started, “whose bra is that?”

“Mine.”

“You wear bras?”

“What? No.” Jaemin made a face. “The fuck?”

“Na Jaemin, did you sleep with a random girl on our couch?”

“First of all, it wasn’t a random girl. It was Y/N,” Jaemin defended. “And secondly, we did it against the wall, actually. The couch was just a poor observer.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or disgusted,” Jeno replied, pondering over his best friend’s words. He glanced back at the wall and inched away from it. “Did you figure out what you’re going to do about Jaehyun?”

Jaemin grinned sheepishly. “I mean, what Jaehyun doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“What happened to the Jaemin who was trying to ghost his sister?”

“He got laid.”

“This is so gonna backfire on you,” Jeno replied, shaking his head. “But I kind of want to watch it happen.”

“Dude,” Jaemin whined, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I broke the bro code so hard, but honestly, the sex is too good.”

“Jaemin, I don’t want to hear about your sexcapades, thanks.”

The next time Jaemin hooked up with you was almost an absolute disaster.

Keyword: almost.

“Jeno,” Jaemin warbled in a desperate cry, “I’m fucked. I’m absolutely fucked.”

“What’s up?” came the disinterested voice of his best friend who was sprawled out on the couch, flipping listlessly through a textbook.

“I need you to help me out,” Jaemin begged. “Y/N wants me to go over to her place but Jaehyun’s home.”

That was how Jaemin ended up behind your house, trying to hoist himself up onto a tree that was close to your window. Jeno was on the phone, keeping a lookout from his car that was parked on the street. This was, quite honestly, probably one of the stupidest things Jaemin had ever done because not only did he have a fear of heights, but he was risking his life just for his friend not to see him walking in the house.

There was something about hanging onto the branch of a tree for dear life that made a man question his pride.

“All this for some pussy,” Jeno tutted through his AirPods.

“Shut up, Jeno,” Jaemin muttered, a flush of heat rising to his cheeks. Truth be told, he just really wanted to see you, not that he would admit that.

He hauled himself onto one of the thicker branches that led to your window and inched his way along it to reach the windowsill. A frown crossed his lips as he reached out to knock on the glass. You told him you’d keep the window open for him, so why was it closed?

The answer was obvious, but it didn’t sink in until Jaehyun opened the window to see Jaemin dangling from a tree branch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, was all that was running through his mind. His head felt like it was going a thousand miles per second but the rest of his body was short-circuiting.

“Jaemin, what are you doing outside my window?” Jaehyun asked, looking absolutely perturbed.

“I’m, uh…” Jaemin paused to think while he could hear Jeno laughing at him through his AirPods. “Jeno and I wanted to prank you.”

“Jeno? Prank?” Jaehyun questioned. “Are you not here for a study session with Y/N?”

Jaemin stilled. He wasn’t sure he had any classes with you, but surely you must have made up this excuse to Jaehyun so that Jaemin could be in your house freely. Jeno’s laughing intensified as Jaemin blinked at his team captain.

“Right, well—”

“Jaemin, what are you doing there?” your sweet, innocent voice rang from Jaehyun’s door.

There was a mischievous glint in your eyes despite how concerned you tried to look. Jaemin saw right through you, though, and grimaced.

“Just… hanging out,” Jaemin grunted out as he tried to crawl in through Jaehyun’s window.

Jaehyun reached his hand out to help Jaemin and dragged him through the window with ease, so smooth that Jaemin pretended he didn’t hit his head against the side of the frame of the window as he was pulled inside. The tree branch bounced back to its original position, its leaves rustling wildly once Jaemin’s weight was off of them. Jaehyun helped Jaemin dust himself off and grabbed one of his shoulders firmly, using his free hand to pat his back.

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun said slowly, “use the door next time.”

“Got it,” Jaemin croaked out.

“We can go to my room and study, Jaemin,” you piped up, turning on your heel to head back to your room as soon as you were sure you had his attention.

“Right, um… see you, man,” Jaemin told Jaehyun, awkwardly following after you after Jaehyun returned the goodbye.

Jaemin had been to Jaehyun’s house for parties, but being there in the daytime was unnerving. He ended the call with Jeno, quickly texting him that he was safe before stuffing his phone and AirPods in his pockets. Jaemin turned the corner to see you sitting cross-legged on the floor of your room. A loud sigh escaped his lips before he made his way in, closing the door behind him.

“You’re paying for that,” he warned.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, a laugh falling from your lips just before Jaemin strode over, pushing you down onto the floor and hovering over you. You parted your lips to speak but whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as Jaemin swooped in and kissed you.

This is a terrible place to be doing this, the rational side of Jaemin’s brain provided, but then he was kissing you and it didn’t matter anymore.

Jaemin lost himself in the kiss as soon as he was tasting your fruity chapstick. He cupped your jaw, intoxicated by the way your lips felt against his. He was so dazed that he hardly noticed you unzipping his pants, tugging them down by his belt loops.

“Aren’t we studying?” Jaemin teased, brushing his nose against yours. He glanced over at the mess of books and papers at your table.

“Mm, do you want to study instead?” you asked, drawing him closer to you. “Pass up on this and read up on some cell division?”

“Fuck no.” Jaemin scoffed, dragging his nails up your thigh. “Spread those legs for me, angel.”

A mewl escaped your lips when you spread your legs because Jaemin immediately started palming your apex without missing a beat. The burst of pride that followed made him a little braver, a little less worrisome over your older brother.

“Take off your pants,” you breathed out, tugging once more at his waistband.

“No.” Jaemin moved off of you and hauled himself up to sit on your bed. “I want you to ride my thigh.” His eyes practically devoured the way you looked. “And keep the skirt on.”

You stood up, biting your lip as you moved to straddle his right thigh. Jaemin’s hands ran up and down your thighs, moving up to your hips eventually to rub slow circles with his thumb. His lips were attached to your neck almost immediately, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column.

You let a whimper slip from your lips and Jaemin started bouncing his leg steadily, his muscular thigh rubbing against your clit. He guided your movements with his hands as you rolled your hips against him. Jaemin flexed his thigh every once in a while and made sure to pull you down on him whenever he could make use of the friction.

Another moan from you and Jaemin sneered. “You’re getting off so well on my thigh, Y/N. Such a fucking tease but you react so easily.” You whined again and Jaemin shushed you. “Be quiet, princess. We don’t want to be walked in on, right?”

And, because the world hated Jaemin, Jaehyun decided to walk in.

“Y/N, can I come in for a second?” he called from outside the door.

In an instant, you practically flew off of Jaemin’s lap, scrambling back to your table and burying your nose in your biology textbook. There were a few long seconds of Jaemin silently communicating with you out of frustration. You had escaped just fine, but Jaemin just had to get a hard-on, and now that you were off his lap, it was far too obvious through his pants.

But you already told Jaehyun he could come in, so Jaemin put both hands over his crotch in a valiant (but stupid) effort to hide his boner while the door opened.

“I’m going to the store,” Jaehyun said, looking between you and Jaemin from the doorway. “Want anything?”

“No, we’re good,” you replied, but Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed on Jaemin, narrowing slightly.

“I’ll get going then, but are you good?” Jaehyun asked, gesturing at the awkward position Jaemin was in. “The bathroom’s across the hall if you need to go.”

Jaemin’s eyes flitted to yours to see an amused look on your face, and he could practically hear your voice bouncing in his skull: This is fun.

This wasn’t exactly Jaemin’s textbook dictionary definition of fun, however.

“Thanks,” Jaemin croaked out, looking down at his lap in shame. A flush of red crossed his cheeks and you barked out a laugh as soon as Jaehyun was gone. “Not funny,” he grumbled out.

An impish grin crossed your face as you asked, “Need me to take care of your problem?”

“Please,” Jaemin almost begged.

The moment you stood up, Jaemin was quickly trying to tug his pants down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his boxers to take them off with his pants. This was awful in the absolutely best way possible because Jaemin’s hands felt clammy but then you were kneeling down in front of him, helping him take his pants off. You looked up at Jaemin when his hard cock curved up against his stomach. A breath escaped his lips like it had been punched out of him and he wondered if his eyes were as comically wide as they felt.

When the sound of Jaehyun closing the front door echoed, you grasped Jaemin’s painfully hard cock in your soft hands. Jaemin’s tongue felt like lead in his mouth. He couldn’t even ask you to do anything with all his bravado from earlier suddenly vanishing. So, he curled a hand in your hair, more for his own leverage.

Jaemin’s stomach rearranged itself to feel like some crazed etch-a-sketch rather than the human anatomy when he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

“Shit, that’s it,” he growled when you went down on him. He flushed all over, clear in the way his cock twitched in your mouth, and it made him feel like some silly, lovesick teenager. “Oh god, you feel so good with your mouth wrapped around my cock, princess.”

A sound of approval came from your throat, vibrating against the throbbing vein along Jaemin’s shaft and making him go crazy. You bobbed your head up and down, teasing him by going so slow to the point that it was nearly unbearable for Jaemin. He felt like a coil of fire was tightly woven inside him, ready to snap at any given moment.

“Fuck… don’t tease me—wait, are you asleep?”

Jaemin looked down to see you half-asleep on his cock, lips brushing against the vein along the side. Your eyes weren’t hooded but fluttered shut, head lolling to the side and your tongue grazing the underside of his head. A hiss escaped Jaemin’s lips at your teasing, but he felt more incredulous than turned on.

“I’m tired,” you said, “and you didn’t finish me off, so why should I finish you off?”

“Well, this is just unfair,” Jaemin replied with a frustrated huff as you pulled off of him. His gaze softened when he saw you rub your eyes, though. He fumbled for a moment, pulling his boxers and pants back up and tucking away the frustration of not getting his release. “You’re actually tired?”

“Kind of,” you admitted. “I’ve been studying my ass off all week for midterms.”

“Okay, well…” Jaemin faltered before scooting back on your bed until he was against the wall. “Let’s take a nap then.”

“Nap? Oh, so we—oh, okay,” you mumbled and Jaemin’s heart skipped a few beats when he saw you suck in your lower lip nervously.

You crawled into your bed and laid down, pulling the covers over them after Jaemin moved so he was right next to you. Jaemin had never exactly slept with a girl like this, but with you, his chest felt warm. It felt right. Without a word, he pulled you to his chest so you wouldn’t have to see how nervous you were making him feel, praying you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled to him.

And, because Jaemin was a loser who feared rejection and the reality that he was an actual human who felt real emotions, he pressed his lips to your head and whispered into your hair, “I like you.”

If you heard him or noticed, Jaemin wouldn’t have known because falling asleep was so much easier with you in his arms.

“You slept with her? Like, without sex?” Jeno asked Jaemin that night, to which he nodded. “You didn’t hook up with her at all?”

“Jaehyun walked in the first time and the second time… let’s not get into that,” Jaemin replied. “The point is, we fucking cuddled, Jeno.”

“That’s kinda weird.”

“Right?” Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, letting out an aggravated groan. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to Jaehyun’s place on Friday.”

Parties were one thing, but at least once a month, the basketball team would hold bonding events for everyone to unwind and chill. Jaemin usually attended every event since he was close with all of the members, but Jaehyun’s house became dangerous territory now because of you. However, Jaemin was expected to take the place of team captain when Jaehyun graduated, so he knew it would be bad if he didn’t attend all the socials the basketball team held.

“Why? Can’t keep it in your pants?” Jeno teased.

Jaemin threw a pillow at him. “Fuck off.”

“It’s been postponed to the end of the month, anyway,” Jeno assured. “Jaehyun said he had a date this Friday or something.”

“Then I’m safe for now.”

It got silent for a moment before Jeno asked, “Are you catching feelings?”

Silence.

Did Jaemin like you? Sure, he mumbled it for himself to hear when he was holding you, which was pretty suspicious of him to do that if he didn’t actually have any feelings toward you. He perfectly understood the feeling at an intellectual level, but absorbing it emotionally was beyond his realm of understanding. Plus, there was no point in having feelings for someone if they didn’t reciprocate.

Right?

Jaemin only had a few crushes before, and the feelings were so surface-level that he started to wonder how many aspects of life he had missed out on because of his inability to grow close to people. That was why he had confined himself to the hookup culture because the “no strings attached” aspect was so appealing to him, but now it was backfiring because of you. It was so fucked up because Jaemin didn’t even want to fuck around with you anymore. Scratch that. He did, but he also wanted to hold your hand, go on dates, and kiss you until your fruity chapstick made him dizzy again.

You were great in bed, but what got Jaemin’s heart racing was the way you laughed when he made a lame joke and you couldn’t get over how terrible it was; the way you told stories with your hands, and your face would light up because you would get so excited; the way the food you made looked absolutely nauseating but, for whatever reason, it tasted amazing, and Jaemin could go on, but he was afraid he’d start melting in front of Jeno.

“No way,” Jaemin lied. “It’s just for the sex, that’s all.”

It wasn’t fair that you always showed up at the one place Jaemin was most vulnerable: basketball practice.

Truth be told, you were causing Jaemin problems well before you even arrived. Hell, you had been causing problems for the past three weeks. Not that Jaemin hated it, but he couldn’t keep it in his pants every time you dragged him to a blind spot or invited him to your place. There were also times where Jaemin would just simply walk with you, or talk about your day in bed, or just hold your hand and stroke your hair until you fell asleep.

Pretty weird for fuckbuddies.

Earlier in the day, Jaemin had run into you while he was walking to his biology lecture, and after some light conversation, he had you pinned up against the back of a building. He ended up getting a very noticeable hickey on his neck from you that he didn’t know existed until Jaehyun pointed it out during practice.

“Jaemin.” Jaehyun let out a low whistle and gestured to his neck. “Finally got over your weird celibacy phase?”

“What are you—”

“Nice hickey,” Yuta complimented while he was passing by, “finally got laid, huh?”

Only then did Jaemin realize that you had marked up his neck, and did so proudly. You knew people would see but you still went ahead and did it. Jaemin would’ve been mad but somehow, the thought of showing off something you caused turned him on.

Thankfully, you showed up when practice had ended and the others were heading into the locker room, all sweaty and tired. Absorbed in their own conversations, the rest of Jaemin’s teammates were focused on talking about their last play and looking forward to a cold shower. Jaemin, however, did a double-take when he saw you, nudging Jeno to keep going while he stayed back.

You really had no good reason coming to the basketball courts. It wasn’t like you or your big brother actually wanted to walk home together.

“I’m starting to think you come here to see me,” Jaemin said smugly, making his way over to you.

“Not even,” you replied, although your fazed look said otherwise. “But I appreciate the eye candy.”

Jaemin reached out to take your hands in his and pulled you toward him. You looked down at your feet, right foot circling around one of the stray basketballs that had been left behind during practice. Jaemin, however, had his eyes focused on you. He couldn’t get tired of looking at you, especially when you were wearing that cozy purple sweater that made him want to pull you into his arms.

Jaemin noticed your foot on the basketball and held your hands a little tighter as you put your weight on it to get your other foot on. You were shakily balancing on it, grabbing Jaemin’s hands tightly as a grin slowly spread across your face.

You’re too cute, was what Jaemin wanted to say.

“You’re still shorter than me even when you’re standing on a basketball,” he teased instead, one hand slipping around your waist to keep you steady.

You pouted. “I’m basically the same height as you now.”

“Really?” Jaemin smirked at your expression, moving closer so that his lips were at your forehead. He moved his hands so they were both holding your waist, keeping you planted on the basketball. “I think I still have an inch or two on you.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, but Jaemin was tilting your chin up and smiling at how you were visibly growing shy. “Jaemin, my brother might walk out any second.”

“Fuck your brother,” Jaemin murmured and kissed you.

People threw around the term “time slowed down” so casually, that Jaemin believed it was a silly hoax; however, he was starting to understand it. Each kiss he shared with you before felt so rushed, but now, everything around him didn’t matter anymore. It was like every fear, every concern he had was lost as he was lost in the taste of your lips.

Your hands cupped his face, deepening the kiss and making Jaemin nearly forget that you were barely balancing on a basketball. He tightened his hold around you when you pulled a hand away to run through his hair and god, he relished that feeling. When he desperately needed air again, Jaemin pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip cheekily as he did so.

He didn’t want to see your reaction, though, so he pulled you down from the basketball and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You were visually overwhelming, anyway, and Jaemin wasn’t too keen on seeing your reaction to his tenderness. Jaemin felt like such a melt for being this affected over a simple kiss, but all he wanted at the moment was to be closer to you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, shocked by his sudden intimacy.

“Shut up,” he murmured into your neck, “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Bruh.”

Jaemin didn’t process the fact that a third person was in the gym until it registered that the masculine voice couldn’t have been coming from you. On the bright side, the voice came from the one person who knew about whatever was going on between you and Jaemin. He then wondered why he was starting to become an optimist.

You and Jaemin both pulled away quickly like repelling magnets. There was a flicker of panic in your eyes, seeming to cool down when you noticed that Jaemin wasn’t freaking out. It was quite devastating for Jaemin to come to realize that he was the standard for what to worry over.

Jaemin, not sparing you a glance, walked over to where his best friend was standing and shoved him, not straying from his direct route to the locker room.

“You have some explaining to do,” Jeno muttered before Jaemin passed him.

“Fuck off, Jeno.”

Jeno flashed a sheepish grin at you before turning back to follow Jaemin, patting him firmly on the back to tease him. Jaemin, however, was unsettled. Whatever he felt for you was moving past sexual attraction to something much deeper, and he wasn’t sure if he could suppress it any longer.

You truly were the cat, and although Jaemin refused to believe it, you had already caught him.

Jeno somehow managed to stay quiet about what had happened between you and Jaemin until after they reached their apartment. Jaemin almost believed he was going to pretend like he didn’t see anything, but it would be laughable to think that Lee Jeno wouldn’t mock him about it.

“That’s the thing with fuckbuddies,” Jeno explained as he shrugged off his coat, “someone’s gonna catch feelings eventually.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” Jaemin spat, tone laced with sarcasm. “You never cease to make me feel like shit.”

“So you admit that you caught feelings?”

It was like an arrow through a bullseye, not that Jaemin was going to admit to that, but the thought of him potentially catching feelings for you was terrifying. It was even more frightening because he probably already did. This was supposed to be the time where Jaemin blanched and would become shockingly avoidant around you, but he was waiting for those instincts to kick in rather than the desperate urge to run over and kiss you.

But, moreover, screw Lee Jeno for majoring in neuroscience. His best friend studying the human brain and its cognition was the worst thing that could have ever happened to Jaemin.

Jaemin paused, hesitating before he spoke, “No… I’m just worried that one of us will.”

Jeno raised a brow at him. “Whatever you two were doing was not normal for fuckbuddies.”

“It’s called hugging, Jeno. It’s not my fault you have the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Jaemin moved to sit on the couch, turning his back to Jeno and hugging a pillow as he shrunk back into the cushion. But Jeno knew that Jaemin always listened to what he had to say. It was a natural instinct by now. Although Jaemin would rather die than say it aloud, his best friend always gave the best advice even though it was probably not what Jaemin wanted to hear.

“Are you okay?” Jeno asked instead.

Jaemin froze. He was never any good at expressing himself. He presented himself as a simple man on the outside, but he was really just layers of multitudes. But, sometimes, your mere attention was like uncut cocaine to him, and then Jaemin would wonder if he really was simple.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin muttered back.

“You’re good at being fine, aren’t you?”

Jeno fastidiously fixed his hair before he retreated to his room. Jaemin was surprised by how he cut the advice session this time and left Jaemin to his own thoughts.

Exhausted, Jaemin stared at his lock screen. It was a picture of you and him at a park. Ducks in the pond. You caught off-guard with hair in your mouth. Jaemin with a smile brighter than the sun. Who the fuck took selfies with girls they fucked on the down-low? And who the fuck set them as their wallpapers? Apparently, Jaemin did.

He was sick.

Maybe Jeno was right, but Jaemin refused to accept that possibility because that would make him even more disgusted with himself.

He could only think of one thing and it was how he was in love with you.

Sex was one thing, but love? The number one rule of best friendship was probably don’t fucking fall in love with your best friend’s sister.

Furthermore, Jaemin didn’t know how to act around you now. In the conspectus of Things That Could Go Wrong in his brain, he hadn’t anticipated actually falling for you. He should’ve taken your godsent looks and heavenly laugh as a red flag that first night because now he was addicted.

It wasn’t like Jaemin had absolutely zero experience with girls, but usually, he just went with it. Being the one chasing after you was mentally taxing and the thought of you possibly not wanting him back was unthinkable. Then again, it was pretty clear that it was mutual between the two of you, but Jaemin was confident that you were a breath away from snapping at him for his inconsistency.

He was the one that pushed you away, after all. A sudden transition from resisting to wanting you completely was sure to freak you out, so Jaemin was stuck at a crossroads.

After a few Google searches of asking the internet if he caught feelings and an episode of self-denial and self-loathing, Jaemin decided it was high time for him to call you and tell you how he felt. That, or he was going to panic and break things off before he got emotionally invested.

Before he could do either, Jeno walked back to the living room, putting his coat back on. He looked dressed up as if he was going out somewhere, and Jaemin’s suspicions were confirmed when he went to get his shoes.

“What’re you all dressed up for?” Jaemin asked, sitting up straight again.

“Jaehyun’s house.” Jeno raised a brow at him. “It’s Friday.”

God, if you’re out there, Jaemin thought, defeated. Screw you and your son. Amen.

Jaemin had to psych himself into the proper state of mind for tonight.

That all went to shit, however, when he saw you sitting in the living room, laughing at something Yuta had said.

“Oh my god,” Jeno said in a low voice when he saw Jaemin frozen in the doorway. “Tell me you’re not jealous right now.”

“Piss off,” Jaemin spat, kicking off his shoes at the entrance. “It’s nothing like that.”

Except that it was exactly like that. Jaemin wasn’t the jealous type, but right now, his blood was roiling in his gut. Deep inside, he knew it was probably nothing to worry about, but the way you smiled around Yuta was pissing him off. Then, he realized that he had no relationship with you that gave him any right to stop Yuta from flirting with you.

And then, you turned to see Jaemin in the doorway and smiled at him.

Oh no, Jaemin thought in complete devastation. She’s pretty.

“Y/N, tonight’s for the basketball team,” Jaehyun told you from the living room, making a motion with his hands to signal you to leave. “Go to your room.”

“You’re such a nosy older brother,” YangYang chimed in, nudging a chuckle out of Jaehyun. “But yeah, Y/N, Friday nights are for the boys.”

“I know, I know,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll go now. I was just grabbing some water.”

Jaemin was still frozen stiff at the doorway as you grabbed a half-empty bottle of water from the kitchen counter (despite Jeno’s several attempts to get him to move) and then walked to the staircase to Jaemin’s left. But then you grabbed Jaemin by the front of his shirt and started dragging him upstairs with you. He barely registered it all happening in the span of a few seconds, but he was able to catch Jeno saying he’d tell the others that Jaemin was running late.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Jaemin whispered harshly, although he still followed you into your room and let you lock the door.

This was far too risky. Not only was Jaehyun home, but the entire basketball team was downstairs.

You started tying your hair up and Jaemin gulped, realizing where this was going. “Do you want me to suck you off or not?” you asked, smiling.

“Say no more,” Jaemin breathed out, unzipping his pants hastily.

He sat down on your bed, letting you tug his boxers down, your eyes full of mirth. Jaemin felt so pathetic when his cock twitched as soon as you wrapped a hand around its girth, but he was ready to put his pride to the side for once.

Jaemin was about to rasp out something but then you took his head in your mouth and a sudden wave of heat punched him in the gut. But then you pulled away, lips against the underside of his head, and Jaemin was a second away from just crying.

“You have nice hands,” you complimented with a mischievous smile as Jaemin held the back of your head eagerly. He felt like he was going crazy with the way you were mouthing your words against his cock.

“You have nice lips,” he returned through gritted teeth. “But please shut the fuck up and get to it already.”

Your lips curled slowly. “So impatient,” you cooed, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. Jaemin bucked his hips forward, trying to chase the sensation, but you were teasing him.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.”

You smirked up at him, moving your head to lick against the slit before taking his cock in your mouth again. A few laborious seconds passed with Jaemin biting his lip so that he didn’t make any noise, and then you finally started sucking him off. He fought the urge not to groan when your tongue rolled along the vein down his shaft.

You showed Jaemin no mercy, however. It was almost like you wanted everyone downstairs to hear. He gritted his teeth when your teeth grazed his cock, and he wanted more. He gripped your hair for anchorage and fucked into your mouth. The smallest whimper escaped you when Jaemin’s cock hit the back of your throat.

Jaemin let out a strangled groan. “I’m close.”

You took this as your cue to suck him off even harsher, and Jaemin was on the brink of sweet release. A tear escaped your eyes as he fucked into your throat, and Jaemin wiped it with his thumb, drinking in the wrecked sight of you that was bringing him over the edge. You let a broken moan vibrate against Jaemin’s shaft, and he was done for.

Jaemin couldn’t recall being able to cum this fast because of someone’s mouth before, but here he was, groaning as his hot seed shot down your throat. You obediently swallowed it, eyes hazy and tear-soaked from the size of him.

A few moments of silence passed before Jaemin leaned down and pecked your lips, heart fluttering a bit in his chest as he did so. “Good girl.”

He swore he saw you lifting a finger to scratch your cheek lightly, which was a nervous quirk of yours that Jaemin had picked up on, but you turned away quickly to fix your hair while Jaemin was pulling his pants back up. The tension that followed made Jaemin unsure of whether to leave or take you against the wall. He decided against the latter, knowing that Jeno couldn’t stall forever.

“Leaving already?” you asked, reaching for Jaemin’s hand, which he gladly entwined with yours.

“I’m already on thin ice,” Jaemin explained. “I have to go back down there and hope they don’t question me.” You moved closer to him, hands moving down to graze past his waistband. Jaemin hissed slightly under his breath and diverted by rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, so you and Yuta…”

“You’re still on that?” you asked, pulling your hands back. “I can’t laugh around another guy now?”

“No, no!” Jaemin groaned, tugging a hand through his hair out of frustration. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Is it not obvious, Jaemin?” you asked him, an edge of desperation to your voice. “You really can’t tell how I feel?”

Jaemin sighed, looking down at his feet. “You can’t tell how I feel either?”

“You—what?”

“We’ll talk later. I have to go.”

He turned to go back downstairs, but you grabbed his wrist, saying, “Jaemin, remember that you’re the one who didn’t want anything more out of this.”

Jaemin gave you a puzzled look but before he could ask for clarification, you had pulled away from him and gestured for him to leave. He mumbled a pathetic excuse, spitting out a string of words for a moment before he gave up and snuck downstairs as quietly as he could.

He hated that you were right. Even though you had suggested sneaking around, Jaemin was the one who tried to draw the boundary. He did this to himself.

“Yo, Jaemin,” Yuta called, “when did you get here?”

“Just now,” Jaemin answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked into the living room where all the basketball team members were sprawled over the couch. “What’re we watching?”

“Pulp Fiction,” Taeyong answered. “Can you get the ice cream from the kitchen?”

“Sure.” Jaemin opened Jaehyun’s freezer to see two tubs of ice cream nestled in the corner. While he was pondering over whether to grab chocolate or vanilla, he felt a presence behind him and looked over his shoulder. “Did you need—oh my god, go to your room,” he whispered harshly at the sight of you.

“Are you my mom?” You raised a brow at him and reached for an ice cream tub. “Let me help you open them.”

“Fine,” he mumbled, voice fracturing at the end. He watched you move to the kitchen’s island and, carefully eyeing his teammates in the living room, letting his hand graze your thigh and whispering, “Hey, I’m sorry for earlier.”

You stiffened at his touch. “It’s fine,” you whispered back, opening the tubs of ice cream. “You’ve just been acting weird lately.”

“Weird?” Jaemin asked as he opened his tub. The ice cream dripped off the lid and onto Jaemin’s finger. “Ugh. Do you have napkins?”

“You’re so messy, Jaemin.”

“Shut up.”

“Let me help,” you insisted, grabbing his wrist and taking his fingers in your mouth.

Jaemin’s eyes widened by a fraction as your hot tongue circled around his fingers. He fought down the urge to take it further and bit his lip as he watched you. Before he could do anything, however, an awkward laugh and wolf-whistle from the living room made him freeze.

Jaemin’s head shot up to see his teammates staring at him, shell-shocked. Some looked absolutely confused while others looked more proud and impressed. Jaemin wondered if you had no shame because, despite all the eyes on them, you didn’t let go of his hand, your pretty lips still wrapped around his fingers.

“I don’t know why she’s doing that,” Jaemin rambled quickly, and his tone was so frazzled that Jeno had to hide his laugh behind his fist. “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, voice dropping for you to hear. “Let go of my hand.”

It would have been sexy if Jaemin wasn’t absolutely terrified.

Only when Jaemin caught sight of Jaehyun’s expression did you let go, saying, “Thanks for the ice cream.” With a playful smile, you looked up at Jaemin expectantly.

“What the fuck did we just witness?” Jungwoo asked, lit up silly like he had just witnessed the biggest scandal.

“We’re friends,” Jaemin croaked out. “Right, Y/N? Jaehyun? Jeno?”

Jeno ducked his head and Jaemin could tell what exactly he was thinking: I can’t help you out of this one, Jaem.

Jaemin couldn’t exactly read Jaehyun’s expression. It was a mix of emotions so varied that they didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t even pick out any distinguishable one, but maybe it was better he didn’t know what the captain was feeling.

“I swear, it's not what it looks like,” Jaemin defended.

“So Y/N wasn’t sucking on your fingers?” Taeyong asked, a ghost of a laugh on his lips.

“Okay, so it’s exactly what it looks like,” Jaemin muttered and pursed his lips together. “But it’s—it’s nothing,” he reasoned, and at this point, it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than them.

Either way, it wasn’t working.

Who was he kidding, anyway? They weren’t stupid, and it was clear as day that Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. For heaven's sake, he even got jealous over Yuta making you laugh. Before, one would have to pry open the cold, hard jaws of his corpse to get a word out about how he felt, but now Jaemin felt like you had broken down his last line of defense.

Jaemin could already see the consequences that would follow, but he still blurted out, “Fine. You got me. Jaehyun, I’m in love with your sister.”

Jaemin’s neurons were tearing themselves over the fact that Jaemin had just professed his love to you and was now experiencing a state of total humiliation. He was confident he wouldn’t ever live this moment down.

The room went silent. Not only were the boys shocked, but you were, too. Jaemin himself couldn’t believe he let that slip, but there was no going back now. Jeno sat there with his jaw hung open and Jaemin couldn’t blame him. He didn’t even know he was going to drop the love bomb like that out of nowhere. Taeyong looked like he had just witnessed a murder as his eyes kept darting between Jaemin and Jaehyun, Jungwoo looked a little too proud, and Yuta was just washed over with realization.

“Oh.” Jaehyun blinked. “Cool, I guess. Does that mean you’re not joining us for movie night then?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how obvious the shock showed on his face, but this felt too easy. For a little over a month, Jaemin had been skirting around his relationship with you because of your big brother, and now he was acting scarily nonchalant.

“You’re not mad?” Jaemin asked, wide-eyed.

Jaehyun laughed. “I mean, it’s kinda weird that you’re dating my little sister, but why would I be mad?”

“Maybe it’s because you said ‘if anyone lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are,’” Yuta reminded him with Jaemin nodding along at his words. “And that was verbatim.”

“That’s for people hitting on my sister to get laid, not people dating my sister,” Jaehyun corrected. “I don’t control her decisions.”

Jaemin smiled through the internal pain of realizing he did exactly that. If Jaehyun found out he wasn’t dating you, then Jaemin was in for an earful. Thankfully, you were too dazed over Jaemin’s earlier confession to decide to start shit.

“Plus,” Jaehyun continued, “I knew you guys had a thing.”

“What?” Jaemin spluttered, blinking wildly. His tongue was performing acrobatics to formulate words but it wasn’t working.

“I had a suspicion when you climbed up my tree to get into the house,” Jaehyun said. “When I walked into the room later, that just confirmed my suspicions because, you know…”

Jaemin’s cheeks went hot when he realized that Jaehyun had probably caught onto the fact that he had a boner back then. Without a word, you rushed out of the kitchen, gaze averted which was what Jaemin supposed was embarrassment. Jaemin heard the front door open and close. He turned to follow after you, but swallowed thickly and froze in place.

“Go, Jaemin,” Jeno urged him, a tone of seriousness taking over.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” YangYang said cooly. “It’s just movie night.”

Jaemin clenched his jaw and nodded, thinking about how shitty it would be if he did all of that just to be rejected. Jaehyun’s house was a warzone and he knew better than to come tonight, but he still did, and he still fucked everything up. If things went wrong with you—

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun cut into his thoughts, “just so you know, I’m cool with you dating my sister.”

It was funny how a few words could make someone’s day, but Jaemin was surprised at the weight those words took off of his shoulders. He contained the joy to a half-smile and left the kitchen and walked out of your house to find you.

You hadn’t gone far at all. You were pacing along the sidewalk looking frazzled, hands lacing together and eyes cast down. Jaemin walked over to you and tried to take your hand but you pulled away.

“Did you mean what you said?” you asked, overcome with raw emotion.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I’m the one who didn’t want to start anything, and I lied about not wanting anything, but… this is how I feel, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not exactly expressive if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed,” you replied incredulously, lower lip starting to quiver. “I just—I don’t know—I thought I was just going to be an afterthought to you.”

Jaemin froze when he saw tears start to gloss your eyes. He never knew how to deal with people crying, especially when they were girls. He took your face in his hands and wiped your stray tears away with his thumbs, sighing softly.

“Let’s go to my place.”

“What? Why?”

“I need to show you how much I love you,” he replied firmly, taking your hand in his and walking in the direction of his apartment. “It’s kind of funny that you thought that because you’ve been all I could think about for the past month.”

More tears were starting to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away.

Stay calm, Jaemin’s brain instructed him. Cupid can sense your fear.

“I love you,” he continued. “Should I say it again? I love you, I love you, I love—”

“Alright, Jaemin!” Your face beamed like a Christmas tree but you were still a flustered mess. “God, stop looking at me like that.”

“No,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I’m going to keep saying it because I don’t think you get it.”

“Jaemin, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk,” you squeaked out as he kissed your cheek.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss.

“J-Jaemin, I get it,” you whined out, scrunching your nose up at his affection. Jaemin continued, though, and you happened to reach your limit. You gripped his shoulders and held him away from you. “God, Jaemin, I love you, okay? You have to give me a chance to say it back at least.”

This time, Jaemin was the one to get shy. “Huh? You like me back?”

“Jaemin, you idiot, you’re so slow,” you mused, “I’ve liked you this entire time.”

He took your hand, his gaze never leaving yours, and rubbed your palm in circles with his thumb. “I know I’ve been a dick… on multiple occasions,” he admitted, “but I want to be with you.”

“Jaemin—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

Jaemin wondered how many seconds passed after, but it felt like centuries to him. He didn’t budge, however, because he wanted you more than ever.

“Yes,” you finally confessed, which, in essence, was a fever dream in itself.

Jaemin expected his reaction to be different, but instead, his eyes wandered off, lost in thought. He looked toward the moon overlooking that hill where he nearly hooked up with you on the night of the party. That felt like eons ago despite being not that long ago, but it carried a comforting wave of nostalgia.

“You know, on second thought, we’re gonna stargaze.”

You looked at Jaemin like he was some undiscovered specimen, but you still followed him. He laid on his back, scrunching up his nose when the grass tickled his face, and he held his hand out to you. You took it, crouching down to lay down next to him. This time, Jaemin spread his arm out so that you could lay against his chest.

You cuddled up against his chest and Jaemin thought he could die a happy man.

He looked over at you, heart hammering against his ribcage like he was hopped up on ten energy drinks. The glow of the moon illuminated the gentle curves of your face and Jaemin didn’t realize he was kissing you until he realized he had tilted your face toward him and cupped your soft cheek. His whole body felt fuzzy when your hands rested on his chest, when he could taste your fruity chapstick.

It was kind of embarrassing how nervous Jaemin was getting. His hands were starting to sweat and he was feeling kiss-dazed, smiling like an idiot because your soft lips were everything. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips one last time, his eyes unable to leave your face.

He threw his pride to the wind and confessed, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your expression was priceless. Jaemin indulged in watching you become a stuttering, faltering mess in front of him, struggling for words that could come out coherently.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t call anyone beautiful over your dead body,” you managed.

“Well, you’re not anyone, are you?” Jaemin raised a brow “You’re Y/N.”

“You’re such a smooth talker sometimes,” you acknowledged, “you know, when you’re not completely malfunctioning.”

“Shh.” Jaemin pulled you closer. “Let me enjoy this.”

“Fine, but you’re making it up to me later for playing cat and mouse for a month.”

Jaemin scoffed. “Please, I was the mouse most of the time.”

A bubble of a laugh escaped your lips and you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. “I’m really happy, you know?” you mumbled into his chest.

Jaemin kissed the top of your head, whispering a “yeah” into your hair. Maybe one day he’d admit that he was just as over-the-moon as you were, and maybe it would be coerced out of him hours later, but right now, under the starry night sky, he could only think about how lucky he was. It was funny, though, because now he could see the stars.

And they were so beautiful.

[luckyasfuck]

could’ve been with me instead of what’s her fucking name

pairing // dilf!katsuki x fem!reader, dilf!katsuki x his wife

warnings/themes // NSFW, dilf!katsuki, soft dom!katsuki, he’s still very mean tho :(, sub!reader, babysitter!reader, READER IS SMALLER THAN KATSUKI IN THIS FIC (by height), infidelity, size kink, praise, fingering (f!recieving), nipple play, bulging, slight mentions of infantilization, hints of hard dom!katsuki at the end

word count // 1.6k

requested by // anon

a/n // anon never said katsuki can’t be mean as fuck

sequel

it was dark. and pro-hero dynamight’s tongue was shoved down your throat. how you ended up in this position, you don’t know. the remaining thoughts you had became hazy as katsuki’s hand slithered up your shirt to cup your boob. he was supposed to be on a mission today and you convinced him you’ll take care of his twins for him since his wife had a late-night shift in the hospital. 

it’s been about 2 years since you became the pro-heroes sidekick. sometimes he’d stare at you with half-lidded vermillion eyes filled with lust, and you’d do the same. but none of you bothered to bring it up: the way you two eyed each other. katsuki fucked his hand one too many times every time he saw you wearing a skirt, and he’s pretty sure you’ve bent down one too many times as well to give him a peak of your lace panties. 

so it wasn’t shocking when instantly takes off his gauntlets when his wife walked out the door and got in her car. the couch you sat on was soft, the television’s volume was low, but you could still hear it. a pair of hands are suddenly placed on either side of you and you flinched slightly, head turning around by reflex. katsuki’s sculpted body and muscles towered over you, his face centimeters away from your with a proud smirk etched onto his handsome features. 

next thing you knew, he was between your legs, his body keeping them apart. he fans his hot breath over your face before diving in to give your tongue another taste of his mouth. he grinds his hard-on against your panties, the skirt you wore practically ripped off with your consent. the rough material of his hero costume rubs against your clit and you whimper, gripping his messy ash blonde hair. two of his meaty fingers grip your panties, pulling them aside and flicking them through your wet folds as you sucked on his tongue sloppily.

in a second, you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you up, trying his best not to break the heated kiss. guilt swarmed in your stomach, or was it really guilt? maybe butterflies? there’s no time to figure it out, katsuki opens the master bedroom door and lays you down on the bed, pulling away to take your shirt and panties off. your bra is lifted up and unclipped, your nipples being toyed with by the pro-heroes mouth. his gaze on you is intense as he sucked on your right tit while playing the other one in between his fingers. 

an unoccupied hand goes to rub your clit, his pointer and ring finger spreading your pussy lips apart to push his middle finger in. throwing your head back, your hole flutter around his digit. his kisses go from your boob to your jaw, leaving a hot trail behind them. lips encaging yours again, katsuki moves his fingers at a fast pace making you throb. slowly, he adds another finger, scissoring them inside you as he tries to stretch your hole out so it can fit him. 

“you’re so tiny, taking my fingers so well. let’s hope you can take my cock just as good, hm?” katsuki hummed almost affectionately against your lips, picking up the pace of his fingers. “s-sir,” you choked out. “gonna cu-”

“call me katsuki.” his thumb rubs quick and sloppy circles on your clit and you come undone beneath him, cumming all over his fingers. a sigh leaves his lips and he pulls his digits out, licking them clean. “mhm, tastier than my wife.” a dark chuckle erupts from his throat as he went to kiss you, “you probably wouldn’t know, but i can assure you you’re much tastier.” the praise makes you whimper, your clit throbbing hard as he took off his hero costume before you.

the sight of his toned muscles makes you drool, but the large tent in his boxers makes you gulp. with a swift movement, his underwear is off and his cock springs free, slapping his stomach. “that... that’s not gonna fit.” the size and girth intimidated you. nonetheless, your legs stayed spread out for him, practically begging him to shove his cock inside you without warning. “we’ll never know if we don’t try.” katsuki comments, getting back on top of you and using his pink tip leaking with pre-cum to tease your clit and poke your entrance. “do you want it, honey?”

calloused fingers run lovingly down your cheek as he stared at you, waiting patiently for your answer. with a small nod from you, he pushes his tip inside. you grip his shoulders and he cradles you in his arms, slowly pushing his cock further. the stretched burned and you throw your head back, letting out a small whimper of pain. the cock inside you stop moving for a moment, katsuki trailing kisses up and down your neck. “just a little more, baby.” he said, rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm your tense body down. breathing quickening, he pushes the last inch inside you, gazing at you to find any hints of discomfort. 

your head was lolled back, mouth open and saliva drooling down the side in pleasure. instinctively, you grind your hips against him, silently asking him to move. and so he does, slowly rocking his hips with yours, cock reaching the deepest depths of your pussy. a hand is placed at the bottom of your stomach and you look over, seeing katsuki admiring the bulge that was forming around that spot. “this pretty pussy, just look at her. swallowing my cock down like a good girl even though she can barely fit it, hm?” 

“faster.” you panted out, and this sparks something in katsuki, hips grinding against you gradually going faster until he was pounding into you. the grip you have on his shoulders tighten as you clench around his sporadically, savoring in his grunts and occasional moans. a particularly loud moan erupts from your throat when he changes angles, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. “shh now, honey. the twins might wake up and complain, they wouldn’t want to see their daddy cheating on mommy with the pretty and young babysitter, now would they?” katsuki spat out, grabbing your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss, swallowing in every whine and moan that escapes your lips.

his heavy balls slap against your ass, his unshaved stubble grinding against your clit oh-so-nicely. a hand is placed on your boob to feel it jiggle up and down harshly due to his hard and fast thrusts, the skin slapping and muffled moans prominently bouncing off the walls. in a second, you cum without warning. it just felt so good. it wasn’t right but it felt so. fucking. good. 

katsuki’s thrusts grow a little faster but more sloppier as he was near to cumming. he hides his face in your neck, moans uncontrollable. with one last hard thrust up your cunt, he paints your walls white with his cum. the room goes silent, soft panting filling it instead. the ash blonde buries his face in between your boobs, giving either of them a kiss before taking his cock out and lying beside you.

“i’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” katsuki promises, placing you on the guest room bed after he showered with you and got you a change of clothes from the bag you brought with you. he tucks you in as if you were his child, giving you a kiss on the forehead before sending you to sleep.

[ timeskip ]

you couldn’t walk. it was the first thing you tried when you woke up, and you miserably failed. laughter boomed in the kitchen, but you didn’t bother. mrs. bakugou has gone back from her shift and is probably making breakfast. once you learned how to walk correctly again, you texted katsuki a good morning and the news about you not being able to walk. “come down for breakfast, hurry.” was all he replied.

with slightly wobbly legs, you walks downstairs and into the kitchen. the sight of mrs. bakugou perched up on the counter, nightdress hoisted up slightly with katsuki’s hand in between her thighs as they laughed together fumed you. “stop, she’s gonna see.” mrs. bakugou giggled, trying to push her husband away. “i don’t care.” he smirked.

oh so now he doesn’t care? okay then.

“excuse me? uh, sorry.” a nervous and awkward chuckle escapes your lips, waving to the married couple. mrs. bakugou is quick to push the blonde away from her, shoving his hand that was in between her legs away. “i’m so sorry, honey.” the older woman apologized to you, “um, would you like to stay for breakfast? oh wait, i’ll just get your pay.” she offered before quickly rushing upstairs to the bedroom. same bedroom her husband railed you in, and she doesn’t even know.

ignoring katsuki’s hard gaze on you, you sat down on the same couch you sat on last night, fixing your things. “eh? not giving me any attention now?” he approached you, showing up beside you unexpectedly. “what we did was a mistake mr. bakugou, i’m ju-”

“i told you to call me katsuki. you’re jealous, aren’t you?” the blonde smirked, lips growing closer to yours with every word until it fanned his hot breath on yours. you turn your head, “that’s absurd.” you let out a disappointed sigh that turns into a loud gasp when a harsh grip on your jaw forces you to look at him.

“if you want me to fucking destroy your little pussy in front of her, then you better start fucking begging before she comes back.”

[mizunetzu]

iwaizumi finding out hes gay and having an extreme gay panic when they get their new manager in aoba johsai and the team teases him to hell and back for it (iwaizumi x male manager!)

Nice to see you again, boke saiikai~~ also look at iwa freak out in this gif AHAHAHA

——————

Iwaizumi x reader - Iwa-chan, Panic!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Iwaizumi lazily scratched the itch on his stomach, not caring that his shirt was slightly lifted up and people could see his stomach if they looked. Eh, it’s not like people were around anyways.

He was already running late to practice, so he might as well reserve his energy and take a detour to the gym. It’s not like anything important was happening anyways.

“Yo.” Iwaizumi yawned, pushing the door to the gymnasium open. He slipped through, only now realizing that no one answered his greeting. He also noticed everyone was gathered into a loose semi-circle, apparently looking at something Iwaizumi couldn’t quite make out.

“What's...goin’ on guys?” Iwaizumi neared the huddle of Seijoh volleyball players. Matsukawa turned around, seemingly the only one who heard Iwaizumi in the first place. Mattsun nudged his head towards the middle of the circle, the clearing, where someone was standing.

“New manager.”

Iwaizumi’s ears perked up. Oikawa was complaining about ‘having at least one manager before he graduates’ but also ‘one that’s not one of my fangirls, because they wouldn’t take good care of the team.’ As insensitive as it sounded, having a manager drool and follow Oikawa for the majority of practice instead of doing their job does sound pretty frustrating. Iwaizumi scratched his head.

“Don’t tell me Shittykawa finally found a girl who doesn’t fawn over him.”

Matsukawa shook his head.

“Not girl.” He pointed to the boy standing there awkwardly, moving out of the way slightly so Iwaizumi could see. “It’s a boy.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes trailed from his feet, up to his firm-looking torso, and trailing around his nice-looking arms and hands. He couldn’t help himself from checking this dude out. Maybe he was just curious as to why this boy joined as a manager and not a player-

Iwaizumi’s eyes finally met the boy's glass-like (e/c) ones. He realized now that as he stared at this boy's mesmerizing eyes, his own (e/c) eyes began to stare back at him. Stare with his eyes growing wide, a cute doe-like expression on his face. But all he could see was his breathtaking, iridescent eyes.

“Uh, earth-to-(L/n)-chan?” Oikawa, who was standing next to ‘(L/n)’, waved his hand in front of his deer-in-the-headlights-face. He visibly jumped, blinking a bit, and turned his head quickly, pretending he was staring at Oikawa the whole time.

However, it wasn’t the same for Iwaizumi. He continued to stare with his mouth parted slightly, absolutely mesmerized by this guy’s handsome face. It seemed so...holdable. Like he wanted to walk up to him and hold his face in his callused hands and just...stand there. Forever. Squishing his cute face in his hands.

Cute? Cute? No. No. No. Not cute. Iwaizumi Hajime was not finding a man cute. No, not in a million years.

So why was his heart pounding in his ears so much?

His heart wouldn’t calm down. His everything wouldn’t calm down. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the new manager boy in front of him, immersing himself in conversation with a blush to shake off the fact he was totally staring back. He couldn’t help but feel confused. For once, he felt jealous of Oikawa. Not because he wanted to be popular or stalked by fangirls or anything, but because this boy’s full attention would be on him, and not Shitty-Crappy-Stupidkawa.

Matsukawa snapped his fingers in front of Iwaizumi’s face, smirking when he threw his head back in surprise with the reddest face he’s ever seen him with. Iwaizumi blinked, blankly, trying to process what just happened, before somehow exploding into a deeper shade of red.

“Are you sick or something?” Matsukawa placed the back of his hand on Iwaizumi’s forehead jokingly. “Oh. Nevermind.”

“Wh...I-I...huh..?”

“You’re just gay.” Matsukawa wiped his hand on his practice shirt. “Super gay. Super highschool level gay. You were totally checking out Manager-kun there.”

Iwaizumi grabbed Matsukawa by the collar, shaking him around in hopes of shaking the truth out of him.

“I-I’m not!”

“First symptom: denial.”

“Shut up-!”

“E-excuse me…?” Iwaizumi stopped dead in his tracks. Matsukawa was one second away from bursting out into cackles at Iwaizumi’s impossibly pale face. They both slowly craned their necks towards the foreign voice. Iwaizumi suddenly forgot how to breathe.

He, ‘Manager-kun’, seemed more utterly breathtaking up close. He was standing right infront of Iwaizumi, looking directly at him with his attractive (e/c) eyes. He didn’t even realize when Matsukawa wormed out of his grasp.

“(L/n)-san, good afternoon.” Matsukawa bowed slightly. “My name’s Matsukawa Issei, by the way. Thank you again for being our manager. We look forward to working with you.”

“Ah...thank you.”

When Matsukawa looked back at Iwaizumi, expecting him to introduce himself, he caught Iwaizumi staring at him with goo-goo eyes and an equally confused, frozen-stiff expression from Manager-kun himself. They stared at each other, one from awkward silence and the other from pure, unadulterated gayness. Matsukawa rolled his eyes.

“Dude!” Matsukawa jabbed Iwaizumi in the side, making him snap out of his trance with a grunt. “Don’t be rude, introduce yourself to Manager-kun!”

Iwaizumi broke into a cold sweat. He turned back to ‘Manager-kun’, attempting to look as cool as possible.

“Y-yo...the name’s Iwaizumi HaJIMe-” Iwaizumi’s voice did not want to be on his side today. The betrayers that were his vocal cords cracked mid sentence, making Iwaizumi cough horrendously in hopes of covering it up. Mattsun looked like he was going to die holding in his laughter.

“Nice to meet you, Iwaizumi-kun,” Manager-kun grasped his hand in his own, and held it for a moment. “My name’s (L/n) (Y/n).”

He, (Y/n), flashed a small, friendly smile, and Iwaizumi was taken. With the way (Y/n) held his hand so tenderly, he could probably faint. He’d rather die than let go. It was so warm, his hands were so warm. God, he felt so soft inside.

“...Y’know, if you aren't feeling well, I can take you to the nurse’s office-”

“No-! It’s-it’s fine! I’m fine!” Iwaizumi sputtered, and he silently whined when (Y/n) pulled his hand back. He stepped back, and gave a small wave.

“That’s good, Iwaizumi-kun. Well, I just wanted to introduce myself to everyone. See you later, Matsukawa-kun. Iwaizumi-kun.” (Y/n) smiled again, and left to introduce himself to another teammate. Once (Y/n) was out of earshot, Matsukawa erupted into a fit of cackles.

“Pfft-ahahahahaha! Dude! Y-you-! Ahahahaha! You need to chill man! At this point everyone’s gonna know you went all-“ Mattsun mimicked Iwaizumi’s wide-eyed expression, bringing his hands together and pretending he was a moe schoolgirl. “Kyaaah! (L/n)-senpai is soooo handsome!”

“SHUUUUUT UPPPPPP!” Iwaizumi started kicking at Matsukawa’s shins and hitting his back, trying to silence his cackles and hope (Y/n) didn’t hear that. Or see the huge red blush on his cheeks.

Oikawa side-eyed Iwaizumi and Matsukawa from the net pole. His hands were still moving on setting up the net for practice, but his eyes were examining the two fellow third years roughhousing with each other. More specifically, the red that engulfed Iwaizumi’s face. Oikawa turned his attention back to the pole.

——

‘Just do it!’

Those three words played on repeat in Iwaizumi’s mind for the past 2 weeks. And they seemed to get louder when Iwaizumi arrived to practice.

‘Just do it, Hajime!’

‘No!’ Iwaizumi thought back to himself, watching as (Y/n) greeted everyone who came through the club room door. He was standing outside, holding a box with supplies stuffed in it. Iwaizumi dreadfully neared the club room.

‘Do it! Now!’

‘No! Fuck no!’

“Ah! Hello again, Iwaizumi-kun-“

“No!” Iwaizumi blurted out. He was quick to cover his mouth, but the look of confusion that knitted (Y/n’s) face was enough to tell he had heard Iwaizumi loud and clear.

“Uh. I mean. Good mor-uh good afternoon, (L/n). Sorry bout’ that.” Iwaizumi trudged into the club room as nonchalantly as he could. But once the door closed, he slumped down to his knees.

“Something wrong, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa mused, slipping on his blue practice shirt over his head. “You look like shit.”

“Y-you’re one to talk, Shittykawa! Go die!”

“Uuu! How mean! Mean Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah yeah.” Iwaizumi hastily slipped into his practice clothes. Oikawa watched his face closely. It was redder than usual.

“Hey, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi looked up from his knee pads, halting temporarily as he threaded them through his leg. “Mm?”

Oikawa opened his mouth, then glanced to the door where (Y/n) was standing outside of. Not yet. He didn’t have enough evidence yet.

“Never mind.” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head cutely.

——

Iwaizumi slumped down on the steps of the gym, heaving like he ran 13 miles. Well, he did. He watched as everyone came trickling back, Oikawa yelling praise as they all collapsed in front of the gym. Training runs across the block were tough. Especially after an exhausting practice match against each other.

“Good job, everyone!” Oikawa clasped his hands together. “Get some water, go rest, do whatever! We’re gonna do some serving and receiving practices, then we can take a break!”

The tuckered-out team choursed out a “Yessir!” before scattering about and doing their own things. Iwaizumi let his head loll back onto the concrete steps he was sitting on, closing his eyes and catching his unsteady breath.

“Iwaizumi-kun!”

Iwaizumi jolted up harshly, a blush adorning his features as his eyes snapped open. (Y/n) looked down at him with a small white towel in his hand and a water bottle in the other.

“I figured you needed some water or something so-I got you some stuff-!” (Y/n) promptly set the things down on Iwaizumi’s lap, though he’s not sure he noticed with the way he was staring at him so...strangely. Huh, that’s been happening for a while now.

Iwaizumi’s dazed look suddenly dissipated, his consciousness coming back to his eyes as he fumbled for the items slipping from his lap.

“Oh! Thank you...dude…! You’re…you’re...cool...f-for that…!”

Iwaizumi shot finger guns at his (Y/n). His crush. Fucking finger guns. He wouldn’t mind if he took his finger guns and shoved it so far up his a-

“It’s no problem!” (Y/n) shot finger guns back, before flexing an arm and patting his bicep. “It’s what a manager is for! Makin’ sure you boys are alright.”

“I’m gonna go fill up some more water bottles...l stopped and filled one up for you first because you looked thirsty…”

(Y/n) ran off. “See you!” He called from a distance, before disappearing from sight. Iwaizumi waved back with a blank expression on his face.

His legs felt like jelly. Not only because he ran 13 miles non-stop, but because of how whipped he became for manager-kun (Y/n) in the span of only a week or two.

Oikawa hummed to himself knowingly, watching Iwaizumi slump back onto the concrete steps with a hand in his heart.

——

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!”

“No! No! No!”

“But why?!” Oikawa exasperatedly yelled, dramatically blocking the door leading outside the club room. It was just him, Iwa-chan, Mattsun, and Makki. Makki and Mattsun sat on the floor of the club room like they were expecting Iwaizumi to come in, and from the way they didn’t try to stop Oikawa from blocking the door, they knew the same things he did.

“Let me out shithead!” Iwaizumi clawed at Oikawa’s arms. Oikawa, as twinkish and childish as he seems, was actually stronger than he looked.

Eventually, Iwaizumi stepped back to take a breather. Matsukawa and Hanamaki took that as their chance to secure him, as Hanamaki grabbed Iwaizumi by the torso and wrapped his whole body around him.

He held him as secure as he could while he thrashed around, waiting till Matsukawa hurriedly set up a foldable chair and brought out some rope. Hanamaki dragged Iwaizumi to the chair, ignoring his pleads of “Let me go!” or “Y’all will pay for this-I swear!” As he forcefully sat him down.

He held his hands to the back of the chair as Matsukawa tied him up as quick as he could.

“Oi! What the fuck!” Iwaizumi kicked at Matsukawa as he circled him with the rope.

“It’s for your own good, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa piped up from his spot blocking the door. He didn’t want to move from the door until Iwaizumi was fully immobilized, just in case he tried to run for it.

“Like hell it is-ack!” Matsukawa tightened the rope. “Ease up, will you! God damn!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Matsukawa, in fact, did not ease up. He tied the rope into multiple tight knots, making it virtually impossible to somehow slip out of them. Iwaizumi squirmed around in his restraints as the chair was rotated facing away from the door, and towards Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Oikawa sighed triumphantly, and backed away from the door. He clasped his hands together.

“So nice of you to finally join our discussion, Iwa-chan.”

“Literally suck my dick then go practice receives on a nearby building and fall to your death.”

Oikawa feigned offense to Iwaizumi’s words. Hanamaki chuckled, while Matsukawa shut Iwaizumi up by tugging at the rope’s end he was holding in his hands.

“Isn’t this illegal? Like-somewhere in the world?”

“It isn’t right now~” Oikawa sung, before becoming laughably serious. “Now! We need some answers!”

“More like you couldn’t contain your curiosity or ask Iwaizumi like a normal person.”

“Makki! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Oikawa blurbed, before coughing and regaining his cool integrator vibe. “Anyways!” Oikawa snapped harshly at Iwaizumi.

“You! Have a! Crush! On Manager-chan!”

Iwaizumi choked on his own spit. He turned away dumbly, with a coy look on his face.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb! We all see the looks you give him! ‘Fess up, Iwa-chan! You’re absolutely totally whipped for (Y/n)-chan!”

Iwaizumi stiffened. “Since when were you two on a first name basis-!”

“See?! You got mad when I called (L/n)-kun by his first name!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Iwaizumi barked. He was starting to sweat now. Were these restraints always so stuffy? “I was just wondering why you called him that!”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out. “Just say you like him we’ll let you go~!”

“Never! No way in hell!”

Oikawa gasped. He pointed dramatically at Iwaizumi. “So you do admit it! You’re totally in love with Manager-kun but you don’t wanna say it!”

“Wh-?!” Iwaizumi sputtered. He kicked around in his restraints, making Matsukawa tug at the rope again. He was thrashing around so much he didn’t hear the door open. “When did I-“

“When did I ever say I had a big ass fuckin’ crush on (L/n) that it made me question my whole sexuality?! But that I couldn’t care less since he’s so...so nice and cute and-fuck!”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki paled. They seemed to be looking at something behind Iwaizumi. Oikawa was still listening intently to Iwaizumi’s confession, not noticing whatever it was those two were staring at.

“Fuck! Fuck! I wanna grab his stupid face and kiss him all over! Fuck! Why is (Y/n) so cute! I wanna call him by his first name too! I wanna hug him and do things boyfriends do too! Fuck! I’m so-“

Oikawa’s eye eventually trailed up from Iwaizumi. He locked eyes with whatever was there, then immediately copied the same panicked ‘we’re dead’ look Hanamaki and Matsukawa had. He looked back at Iwaizumi with a sweaty, pale face.

“H-hey, Iwa-chan, that’s enough-you proved your point-“

“-I’M SO FUCKING GAY FOR (Y/N) IT HURTS!”

The three boys flinched, looking behind Iwaizumi with the same look you’d give when you got caught doing something bad. Iwaizumi was breathing heavily, slouched on his chair after his whole explosion of a confession. He looked at the three third years, who weren’t even looking back at him.

“...what? This is what you guys wanted right? To admit that I like (L/n-“

“I-Iwaizumi, you might wanna shut up…” Hanamaki said, his voice trembly. Matsukawa and Oikawa nodded.

“No! Why are y’all acting so weird! You guys were all up my ass about it, and now you’re telling me to shut up?!”

Matsukawa silently spun his chair around slowly, towards the door so he could see what they were all staring at.

“Honestly, if y’all weren’t expecting me to actually…confess…t-to…yooouuu…”

Iwaizumi’s voice progressively died down as he locked eyes with (Y/n), standing by the door with the reddest shocked face he’d ever seen. It was Iwaizumi’s turn to go pale.

“Uh...I-I heard...screaming...f-from the club room and...and I wanted to see if you guys were ok...um.” (Y/n) awkwardly swung his hands around, before letting them rest behind his back. “So…”

“Do you...really wanna ‘kiss me all over’ and do boyfriend-y stuff together…? With me…?”

Iwaizumi said nothing. He started squirming madly in his binds, trying to look anywhere else but (Y/n).

“Let me out let me out let me out let me out-!“

Iwaizumi only wriggled and kicked harder when (Y/n) started approaching him.

“LETMEOUTLETMEOUTLETME-uu-?”

(Y/n) balled up his fists, resting them rigidly on Iwaizumi’s lap as he clumsily pressed a kiss to his lips. His eyes were clamped shut, unlike Iwaizumi’s, who were wide open. He felt (Y/n) push closer, to which he let his body give in and relax, closing his eyes and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Matsukawa wolf-whistled, while Hanamaki yelled things like ‘Get it, Iwaizumi!’. Oikawa smiled triumphantly once more, clapping quietly. “Bravo! Yay Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi’s eyes were half-lidded as began to pull away. He let out a shaky sigh, watching Iwaizumi take breathless breaths in. Oikawa was still clapping in the background.

“Yay! Yaaaay Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan is happy and I fulfilled my promise! (L/n) will be Manager-kun for forever!”

Iwaizumi snapped out of his dazed trance to glare at Oikawa in confusion. “Huh?”

“Ara?” Oikawa tilted his head. (Y/n) caught on, and started violently shaking his head ‘no’, as well as flailing his arms around trying to shut him up.

“You don’t know why (L/n)-kun decided to join the club?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. (Y/n) whimpered slightly and covered his face in his hands.

“I told (L/n)-kun that if he became our manager, I’d find a way to get you to fall in looove with him. But it looks like I didn’t need to do anything~”

Oikawa chuckled. “He really only joined for you, y’know. When I went up to talk to him about being a manager, his eyes lit up and he said, and I quote: ‘I’ll do it if you set me up with your friend Iwaizumi-kun and get him to fall for me-! Kyaaa! Iwaizumi-kun is so tall dark and handsom-ow!”

Oikawa was abruptly cut off when Iwaizumi kicked him in the leg, as it was the only thing he could reach while he was still tied up. Iwaizumi turned to the side with a blushy pout.

“Y-you’re embarrassing him, idiot.”

“Aww look. He’s enjoying this.” Matsukawa snickered. Hanamaki chuckled as quietly as he could, both trying not to get kicked in the leg like Oikawa did. (Y/n) sank to the floor, defeated.

“Why did you tell Iwaizumi-kun...that’s so embarrassing…” (Y/n) groaned from the ground. He was still covering his face, so he didn’t notice when Matsukawa started untying Iwaizumi, or when Iwaizumi squatted down and placed his hand on top of (Y/n’s) head.

(Y/n) made a noise of surprise as Iwaizumi patted his head with a blushy scowl.

“S’ only fair that I know… I was pretty embarrassed too when you heard all those things I said about you... Eye for an eye and shit…”

(Y/n) said nothing as Iwaizumi continued to pat his head. They said nothing for a while, before Matsukawa silently whispered to Oikawa.

“Wait, if you knew that (L/n)-kun liked Iwaizumi, why did you look so scared when he walked in? You knew they liked each other.”

“Ah.” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head, watching as Iwaizumi and (Y/n) shyly exchanged phone numbers.

“I was scared that Iwa-chan was going to murder me.”

——————

Wanna know what makes my day? When people comment on my fics 💖 especially when they reblog and go crazy in the tags or even say something IN the reblog itself 💖💖💖 makes me feel all warm inside ✨

-Mr. Mizunetzu

[4dtk]

pink in the night

anon: “Hi can I request a Renjun oneshot with 33 (hand holding), 27+46 (kisses), 24 (touching) please? :)” sure! this is an au - renjun is a hitman in this

i wrote this to pink in the night by mitski, thought i'd use it as a title :)

hand-holding, 33: bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

kisses, 27 & 46: desperate kisses, angry kisses

touching, 24: whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

warnings: making out, just a lil suggestive, one mention of vomit but it's not descriptive, mentions of blood, fighting

“what the fuck were you thinking?” you yanked renjun’s hands toward you, stained red with blood that filled your room with the putrid smell of copper. sweat threatens to contaminate the wound, having had just ran away from the scene in a rush of adrenaline.

renjun’s hands are shaking in yours, and you figured you might have pulled them towards you a little too harshly when he winces, reacting a second time now that the alcohol was coming into contact with fresh skin.

“were you even in the right mind when you did that? i knew they were following us but-“ your fingers curl around the roll of bandage, almost cutting through the fabric if not for your blunt nails. securing it with a pin, you stay kneeled on the floor, while the ominous lamp in the squeezy bedroom above a tattoo parlour remained the only thing lighting your way.

the other's hand felt heavy in your hands, just like your footsteps a couple minutes ago.

run, run, run, were the only words in your head when renjun threw the first punch, accurately hitting one of the followers right in the jaw. there was a scream, glass breaking, shouts of panic, but none of them were yours.

after all, you both were skilled fighters, raised on contrasting conditions.

renjun was holding his ground with one person, but when the other agent came out of their shock, you knew you had to intervene.

you mirrored their speed perfectly, just like renjun was even if his throws were a little tipsy. you had to sneak in a laugh as the agents groan out in pain on the ground, before your moment of victory is interrupted by sirens

someone had called the fucking police. rolling your eyes, you grabbed renjun's hand without much thought, ignoring the warm liquid flowing from his knuckles.

your hideout was the place you felt the safest, undetected and unseen from cameras, but these agents of the society you once worked for could figure your whereabouts in no time.

they were skilled and swift, taking you in when they found you on the doorstep of their headquarters before anyone could see the brief release of their invisibility cloak.

your feet took you instead through winding alleys, gaining the attention of shophouse owners lounging at the back of their stores. they paid you no mind, assuming it was just a couple enjoying young love.

you skid to a stop in front of a shady door, although you haul it open with no hesitation that elicits a groan from inside the store.

"couldn't you at least knock?" johnny raises a brow, eyes not leaving his client's tattoo as the machine runs. it contributes to your irritation.

"shut up, let me camp here for a bit," johnny only hums at that when you bring renjun upstairs, feet heeding your command easily to grab first-aid items from the run-down shophouse.

and so now, you stare lifelessly into renjun's torso as your hand clutched onto his, not wanting to believe the events that had just ensued.

"give me your other hand," you mumble, chucking his bandaged hand aside before reaching for his other. you can't care much when he grunts.

"no."

the single word prompts you to lift your head, the curl of your lip evident in showing your exasperation.

"what? why not?"

"just 'cause!" renjun replies, hiding his other behind his back, "why are you worried, anyway? it's not like it's something i didn't tolerate before."

"what? you mean your bleeding knuckles or your feelings?"

renjun scowls at that, tackling you to the floor in a flurry of motion. you only raise an eyebrow at his outburst.

how dare you say that? how dare you taunt him as if you didn't give him the same lingering glances?

renjun has to look away from your hypnotising eyes that pulled him in each time. when you stumbled across a stakeout he was on, when they widened in surprise when you found out he was the person you were assigned to assassinate.

your teasing irises when you fought tooth and nail in the abandoned building, the sniper rifle catching the moonlight as it shines across your face. it's like fate had mocked him, illuminating your lips with him pinned under you.

they only held dejection, now. were they downcasted because of the traumatising things you've seen? oh no, it's anything but.

you were conditioned to mask your emotions from day one, vomit, disgust, sorrow. anything that develops from all the gore and blood. you've seen too much over the years that you can't bring yourself to feel anything.

yet, when renjun refuses you, you can't help but feel like an arrow's gone through your heart. you don't want to believe it's cupid, but rather something more foretelling.

you do what you do best: push people away.

"what? can't come to terms with- mmff!"

he kisses you. huang renjun kisses you, slamming his lips down onto yours a little too harshly. you have no time to react since he pulls away too fast. too fast for you to savour his plump lips again and again.

mouth parted, moonlight dancing across your eyes, hair splayed out. you looked ravishing.

his chest is burning from the clench of his heart, his thighs are burning from the uncomfortable straddling position, but nothing beats the burn of his cheeks when he feels you lean back up, no doubt capturing his lips in another kiss.

this time, it starts out soft. it doesn't last for long before everything turns eager. your hands roam over his sides, back, face. likewise with his, he brings you into his lap as he settles against the frame of the bed.

breathlessly, you pull away. you search his eyes, as does he, and you find nothing but a reflected portrayal of the one thing that burns in your heart: uncertainty, lust, desire.

renjun swallows at your uncharacteristic quietness. he takes the bait, anyway, reaching up to kiss you again with fervour. your lips dance with each other, groaning a little when he feels that your body's pressed flushed against him.

each kiss felt like a drug, leaving you both wanting more.

johnny doesn't seem to care, however, when he interrupts your intimate moment with a deafening knock.

"need condoms?" you separate yourself from the other immediately, panting like a dog by how long you've had your lips locked with his.

"get the fuck out!" you poorly throw a pillow at the tattoo artist, who only raises his hand in surrender, "come and get your blankets when you're done sucking each other's faces off."

you sigh at that, head lolled down in defeat.

you're not sure why you feel that way, anyway. were you ticked off by the fact that you let someone see your vulnerability? yes.

were you annoyed that johnny, your childhood friend and big-brother figure, saw you making out? yes.

were you pissed that you let huang renjun kiss you? you had trouble answering that one.

"hey," the one person on your mind softly whispers. you want to punch him for lowering his voice, for speaking so tenderly to you like he hadn't just left you gasping for air.

"yes. renjun. what- what do you want." it sounds out more like an order, your words coming out stiffly as the man in front of you takes a deep, shaky breath.

his eyes soften at your awkwardness, "i- you can bandage my other hand if ya want."

you grunt out a finally, preparing yourself to uncomfortably pry your body off him to grab the bandages left on the floor. he stops you before you can and his lips hover over your ear. you're not complaining.

"as long as i get to kiss you again," he can't help it, lips already nibbling at your ear before they move down your neck in a trail of hot kisses that set your skin ablaze.

"can you kiss me first? bandage later..." you're helpless and putty in his hands. the laugh that renjun lets out makes you giggle, and you have to rest against his forehead for a moment to collect yourself.

"oh... but who was the impatient one wanting patch me up earlier?"

renjun melts when your hands cup his cheeks. he loves your fingers that are full of callouses; they showed your excessive training with knifes, guns, spears.

but now, when they're gentle against his flushed skin, he finds that he's discovered a new use for your fingers. to hold him tight, to brush through his hair, to caress his forearm, he could go on and on.

"oh, shut up," you mumble with a smile.

"gladly," renjun answers, doing just that as your lips meet again.

[lilxberry]

I Watched You Die} 6 - Natasha Romanoff

Synopsis;

Someone from Natashas’ past makes the most of unsuspected arrivals and begins to cause issues, not only for her, just everyone they come into contact with. HYDRA uses them as a simple puppet and Natasha believes that maybe, just maybe, she could get them back to her in the way she remembers.

Warnings: Language. Fighting. Terrible writing (this chapter was terrible.)

Words: 3,123

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (female reader) (super soldier reader) (HYDRA reader)

(A/N: There’s some time jumps that aren’t stated but it’s still relatively easy to follow in that sense. Also, this chapter is more so a filler but nonetheless is related to the story.)

(A/N 2: Strucker and interactions with him are in German and a small interaction with Wanda is in Slovak as a substitute for Sokovian. There is some Russian in this but it’s quite easy to distinguish between the languages’ used.)

< Chapter 5    Chapter 7 >

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Her head throbbed and her neck was stiff and pained from its lolled position it had been in hours on end. Even with her head tilted forward and down towards the hard floor beneath her, the light felt harsh against her eyes, a stinging, burning sensation appearing each time she cracks an eye open.

“Ah, I hope you slept well, Miss Romanoff.”

The familiarity in the voice caused Natasha to tense and she willed her eyes to open and remain as such. Raising her head, her eyes automatically lock on to the figure before her in which everyone believed was dead.

“How are you here?”

The man chuckled and began to take steps towards the tied up red head, his hands folded together behind his back, a smug look etched into his features. “It is quite incredible the technology we have within this day and age, yes?”

Her features twisted up into a sneer, glaring at the one of the few notorious HYDRA leaders they, the Avengers, had come to face. “Why can’t people just stay dead?”

Strucker rounded her body leaving her to look at the room they held her within; bland in colour but crowded with technology. “I believe you’re also not referring to only me now, are you?” He clicks his tongue. “Yes, Y/N. Our best asset yet. The twins were exceptional, yes and the winter soldier was successful until recent years, but Y/N is our best creation.”

His German accent is thick as the words pass into her ears and registers his words, but his next sentence as he leans down to whisper right beside her head makes her blood run cold. “Finding her on the brink of death was undoubtfully wonderful, on our part at least.”

The man chuckled as he straightened himself back out, standing to his full height before rounding her seated position once more to stand before her. “How are our previous assets, anyways? The updates Ghost gives are quite minimal in unnecessary data.”

Silence. Strucker tsked at her lack of response and spun on heel, taking one, two, three steps forward before coming to a standstill. “I suppose you’d like to know why we have you hear,” he called over his shoulder to her. When he was met with silence once more, he continued.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have certainly been a right ganz schlimmer, a large spanner in our works. We run smoothly when you and your little friends keep out of our business. Perfectly running machinery. So, we’re simply removing the issue with our operation. You.” (Fucking pain.)

Slow and intimidating were his steps as he little by little made his way over towards a board of panels which, much like every other piece of technology was surrounded by people in off-white lab coats. His fingers danced over the multiple of buttons that littered the deck of the panel.

“You may not think so yourself but, we believe you are the strongest of your little band of heroes. No, not physically. Mentally? Yes. We also believe, if we break you, the rest of the team will surely follow in crumbling down.”

His eyes linger on one spot in particular on the panel, his finger hovering over it. “Now you’re also wondering why I’m electing to tell you all this. The answer is simple, really.” He pushes down on a button, resulting in the chair that Natasha is strapped to, to recline backwards, much like a chair in a barbers’, before laying her flat.

“You’re stuck here.”

Natashas’ head looks from left to right in a frantic manner as Strucker steps away from the lengthy panel of buttons and stalks towards her, his boots quietly squeaking against the cold, smooth floor of the room.

Above her is some form of machinery she could best describe as terrifying in appearance, harsh glinting metal and a mass of wires. Movement to both her left and right signify to her that people are beginning to close in on her and surround her. Panic rises in her body further as someone steps closer to her head holding what she believed was a mouth guard; something she’ll be biting down on.

She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to avoid the object but with no such luck. Someone had violently grasped her jaw in a bruising grip and forced the guard into her mouth. Strucker leans over her laying form and the evil grin on his face is purely sickening.

“Have you ever felt 450 volts of electricity surged through your body before? No? Oh, don’t worry. IT should be over before you know it.” He pulls back, making Natasha follow his with her eyes. Her protests are muffled by the guard in her mouth. “But, please, be mindful when it comes to the convulsions that follow. You wouldn’t like to break a bone, surely.”

Strucker walks towards yet another panel, this time with AMP and voltage gages along with other gages she couldn’t quite make out from her position. He places his hand atop a dial and nods his head once to one of the many people scuttling around the room. She feels something be attached to each temple and it reminds her strongly of the old school, brutal electroshock therapy that doctors used to dole out.

“Shall we move this along and see how long it takes until you break?”

Natasha spots your body stood stiff and squared near the door at the foot of the room, features lacking any show of emotion. Her eyes widened, and she desperately hoped that her eyes asked what she couldn’t.

‘Help me.’

Your being, unmoving and unchanged, is the last thing she sees before searing hot pain shots through her body. She bites down on the guard and releases and ear-piercing scream around it as her whole-body tenses and her back arches up, fists clenched tightly, and toes curled.

Her body falls limp for a short moment before the process repeats, over and over. Like an unending, destructive cycle.

_______________

The team had tirelessly put in every effort to find the missing ex-assassin. When Natasha had taken too long to return to the others, Clint did what was asked of him. He waited until the end of the following day when she had left before telling the others.

With no sightings and no communication from the Avenger, they were at a lost.

4 days had passed, coming close to 5, with no such luck in finding Natasha. Every member of the close-knit team had put in hours and hours on end into locating her; everything had been fruitless. The team had chewed out the archer for not mentioning anything sooner than he had but he had argued that he valued his word and believed Natsha would be fine, that she could look after herself.

They couldn’t argue with him on that.

“I’ve got nothing. We haven’t found shit and it’s been what? 4 days since anyone had last seen her?”

Their hopes in finding her were dwindling quickly, its rate in decrease sped up after the three-day mark. Stark groaned and leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Honestly, I blame Fury for making us use phones that I can’t hack. We’d find her a lot fucking faster if I could just get into it.”

“Language,” Steve muttered before releasing a lengthy sigh. As he went to open his mouth to respond, Tony perked up, this time looking extremely more optimistic than previous.

“HOLY SHIT!” He spun his chair to face the computer on the desk and began to rapid begin typing. The others watched him with scepticism before slowly moving to crowd the billionaire.

“You wanna explain to the class, Stark?”

“You know how I never listen to Fury?” He heard a collective of hums in agreement before continuing. “Well, when I was encrypting the phones we all use, I may have purposefully left out my location cloaking software.”

“So, you’re saying you can ping her location and you failed to mention this?!” Wanda exclaimed.

“One, ouch. Don’t scream in my ear like a damn banshee, Matilda. Two, I forgot. It’s not like we actually use it.”

The team watched in anticipation as Tonys’ fingers continued to rapidly tap at the keyboard. Moments pass by with bated breaths before a small red dot appears on a map that pops up. They stare at the bright red dot in a prolonged silence before Steve straightens out with a hardened face.

“Let’s move.”

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“I don’t understand. Why San Fransico?”

The statement from Sam was what each of them wanted to voice but none did. Each step through the city was following that damn pinged location. The day before it had been in Washington, the day before that was Oklahoma.

They could be tracking a ghost trail for all they knew, certainly with how quickly the location seemed to switch between states so quickly.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Update.”

“Location has remained the same. The Railway Museum is just one block away, sir.”

Tony rolls his shoulders before turning to look towards those who walk with him. He and Steve share a look, already knowing that this is more than likely a trap or mislead.

“Only a few of us will enter. Everyone else is going to surround the building, cover each possible exit. Buck, I want you with me, Sam and Wanda. Clint, you think you can take to a nearby building keep an eye on the roof and the main entrance?”

Clint nodded as Steve doled out orders for the group to follow. With the archers’ non-verbal confirmation, the captain continued.

“Thor, I want you to take the West side of the building with Banner. Pietro, you take East. Stark, I want you to take the back with Vision.” Everyone nods followed by them splitting off in the direction of the respective positions.

Dressed as civilians was helpful with entering the museum; they turned no heads when entering the building. The four inside had separated themselves, hoping to search the interior in record time rather than they be grouped up together.

The comms the team had donned before splitting ways crackled before Tony’s voice sounded through into each team members’ ear. “I’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y. put the location on each of your phones, make it easier for you guys to know if you’re closing in.”

Simultaneously, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky pull out their smartphones and allow the screen to open up correctly, a simple map of the interior showing a blinking red dot in the centre of the building.

The small team inside opposed to those outside slowly close in to the centre of the museum, covering all sides.

Adrenaline begins to heighten as they inch their way closer and closer. Emotions are running high and minds are swirling with possibilities and before they knew it, they surround the exhibit at the very middle of the building.

A large group being led by some guide moves on with their tour and reveals a lone person still stood there; hood up and phone in hand. Steve glances down at the phone in his own hand and sure enough, the dot hasn’t moved.

This is what they’ve been chasing.

With their head down, both Sam and Bucky who face their front can’t identify who holds the phone, Natashas’ phone.

Between the four, a look was shared and with a nod of their head in the figure’s direction, they begin to slowly close in once more. Wanda, Sam and Bucky slow to a stop, only a short distance away as Steve continues to stalk closer and with a few more steps, he’s stood behind the figure.

He reaches an arm out and clamps his hand down on their shoulder which begins to shake slightly as the person laughs quietly. The person slowly raises their head with a shit eating grin on their face and both Sam and Bucky tense, their jaws clenching, teeth grinding.

Wanda freezes up along with them as the figure slowly turns to face Steve; easily catching a glimpse herself.

“At ease, солдат,” your voice rasps. (Soldier.)

You hand moves quickly to clamp on to the blondes’ wrist and before he could react, you bring your head forward in a quick, whip-like motion, slamming it into his nose; a satisfying crunch is heard and blood already beginning to trickle out.

Twisting his arm, you land a hard kick to his ribs and send him back, him falling to the floor with quite the thud, even sliding across the floor a good foot or two. The others had quickly reacted, Sam and Bucky charging over towards you.

You alternate between the two as they dole out a choreographed offensive; punches, kicks, full body hits. The two had been going a solid minute and had done zero damage, even with Steve standing himself back up on to his feet and charging at you himself.

Wanda had dealt with the screaming and panicked public from the first sign of retaliation, giving firm orders to leave the building and to get a safe distance.

The second the first of the civilians exited the building in a rushed and yelling fashion, the team was on high alert.

“Someone talk to us,” Clint crackled through the comms, his sights down the length of the arrow he already has notched and ready to release.

“It’s Y/N.” Just that simple statement made the whole team know exactly what was currently going down. “They had Natashas’ phone. HYDRA put us on a wild goose chase.”

The grunts from Steve, Sam and Bucky brought Wanda’s head back into the fight at hand. The three were being easily overpowered by just yourself and she’s unsure how to proceed. With quick thinking, she uses her powers to push her teammates aside and away from you, the swirl of red like mist dancing around her fingers.

Your attention snaps from the three that had been thrown away from you to the little witch who stood off to the side. You roll your shoulders and smirk before stomping your way over to her aggressively.

You feel your movements slowly become restricted and it’s harder and harder to move forward. Wanda, with a struggle, brings to down to your knees before you could reach her and all you could do it look up at her with a devious smirk.

Tongue peeking out between your lips, you wet them and trail your eyes up and down the length of her body and the action makes her sick to your stomach. “Som ohromená, princezná.” (I’m impressed, princess.)

She takes step towards you, slow, precise, and what she hoped was menacing. “Where’s Natasha?” she spat between her teeth.

You chuckle darkly and shake her head, noticing how she lacked to remember to keep her distance. “You’re in no position to ask questions, little witch.” With perseverance, your left arm shoots forward, grasping her wrist much like you had done with the caps. Shocked, the moment forces Wanda to lose concertation and drops her magical hold on you.

You swipe at the opportunity and raise to your full height, towering over the Sokovian and delivering a hard right hook to the girl, knocking her unconscious the moment your fist made contact with her jaw.

Turning, you look at the trio of men who look at an unconscious Wanda by your feet with wide and worried eyes. You smirk once more as you pull Natasha’s phone from your pocket and wave it slightly before tossing it in their direction. “Keep it. I’m done with it.”

You take small steps backwards away from the four before turning tail and running, closer and closer to the back entrance.

“She’s heading to you guys at the back,” Steve rushes out, struggling to come to a stand and give chase.

“Understood, capsicle.” Tony and Vison both prepare themselves for your arrival, to burst through the doors and go into combat just like the four inside had done. But they waited and waited and waited. Nothing. “Uh, no sign of her. Anyone got eyes on the slippery bastard?” Stark reaches out to the others.

Sam and Bucky left Americas’ sweetheart and Scarlet Witch with the intentions of cheeking the inside of the building, running around the whole of the museum as the team converse.

“Nothing here.”

“Nope.”

“No clue.”

“Nada.”

“Zilch.”

The team’s response came in like clockwork and the entire team felt baffled. Where did you disappear to?

“So, she just evaporated? What the fuck? Are you sure no one has eyes on her?”

“Look,” Steve started. “As much as I want to find them and get some answers, we gotta focus on Wanda. She’s down.” He was kneeling beside her unconscious form and like a lightbulb being lit from a switch, Pietro was right beside his sister on the opposite side of Steve, absolute panic and concern shifting through his eyes.

Steve hears a sigh through the comms followed by Banners’ voice. “Let’s get back. It’s clear they’ve disappeared somehow, and we should focus on Maximoff right now.”

Steve shakes his head and moves to stand, Pietro already holding his twin in his arms. “Let’s go, team.”

_______________

“Wie ich sehe, können wir ihr Telefon nicht länger als Ablenkung für sie benutzen,” Strucker spoke as his back was turned to you, hands folded behind his back, looking at the painting hung on the wall with disinterest. (I see we can no longer use her phone as a distraction for them.)

“Sie werden sie nicht finden können, auch wenn wir sie nicht mehr auf Gänsejagd führen, Sir,” you respond, you own hands folded behind your back. Your eyes are trained on his form as he slowly turns to face you, casually rounded the desk to stand before you. (They won't be able to find her even if we no longer lead them on such wild goose chases', sir.)

“Hoffentlich nicht, Soldat. Es liegt an Ihnen, wenn sie sie finden.” His eyes look you up and down subtly, scrutinising you before turning away from you and striding over towards his desk. “Es ist jetzt zu heiß für dich, Ghost. Zu viele Leute werden dich nach deinem kleinen öffentlichen Stunt erkennen. Du sollst in der Einrichtung bleiben. Sie bewachen Romanoff und begleiten sie zum und vom Labor. Verstanden?” (They better not, soldier. It will be on your head if they are to find her.) (There's too much heat on you now, Ghost. Too many people will recognise you after your little public stunt. You are to stay within the facility. You will guard Romanoff and escort her to and from the lab. Understood?)

“Verstanden.” (Understood.)

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THIS WAS SO BAD LMAO

I just needed a filler honestly so, this will do for the time being

If you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual​ @iwazoomingouttahere​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

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‘I Watched You Die’ taglist:

@diaryoflife @username23345 @drpepperobsessed @fayhar @d14n4ol @srtamercurio @gabbygabbie @lostandsearching @afuckingshituniverse @thea13sworld @nelouath8 @navs-bhat @pistachiomilk3 @peggycarter-steverogers @b-5by5 @trikruismybitch @anxiousgoldengirl @when-wolves-howl @whitelotus00 @anxiousgoldengirl @daniescady @unexpected-character @lgtftchan @mitch-cabello1097 @wlwfanfictionss @gottacamz​

(Those whose @ is in bold, I could not tag unfortunately.)

[erensrag]

the one -

armin x yn (wc: 12720)

warnings: nsfw/smut, yandere armin, obsession, mentions of stalking, manipulation, toxic relationship, armin being a creep in love basically. summary makes it seem like he kidnaps reader lmao he doesn’t

summary: having seen enough of you managing without him, armin decides to finally take matters into his own hands and make you his.

armin doesn't understand.

he thought he planned everything out perfectly. he gave you your space, hasn’t given anyone the slightest suggestion of his feelings for you—at least the people you both know. he wanted you to come to him willingly, no persuasion or sweet talks.

he did everything perfectly. he's the perfect student, always has been. has gotten straight a's since the moment he entered his first grade, received a full scholarship to some college he could care less about instead of his dream one because that's the one you chose, even helped you with your college admission letters. he's well off, could've—could take care of you your entire life. he's loved by everyone on campus and even in high school, he was the apple of everyone's eye.

you knew how perfect he was back then and how he's thriving right now so how the hell...of all people why him? he clenches the beer can in his hand, watching you stumble up the stairs with none other than his best friend.

this isn't like the other boys you've dated. he can't just threaten or throw cash at him until he realizes you'll always belong to armin and leave you alone. eren doesn't listen to anyone and even if he did try any threats, it'd just ruin the nice guy reputation he’d had spent years building up.

he throws the can onto the sofa, immediately trailing after you two before he can stop himself. he thought spending the summer in everyone’s home town would've just brought them closer—specifically brought you and him closer, that was the plan after all. not you and eren. you two have barely spoken three words to each other your entire lives.

it doesn't make sense.

he thought he knew everything about you. he had organized every single detail regarding you in sections and tucked the pictures in that little box that's been tucked under his dorm bed for years. maybe he gave too much space? college was undoubtedly stressful, he must've become too busy with his studies to look over you. to make sure you made the right decisions and weren't tainted by the hands of everyone around you.

he had screwed up.

but he intends to make it right. to put you back on the right track, the one you're supposed to be on. the one that leads you straight to him.

he found the two of you in some random bedroom, disgust immediately taking over him at the sight. is this who you were now? a few months of not talking to one another and you were already ruining your life by letting yourself get fucked by eren of all people in a bedroom you didn't even know the owner of?

his nails dig into his palms as he watches through the creek in the door, you guys didn't even bother to close it all the way. as if you wanted an audience. eren was already slamming into you, like you were nothing more than a toy dying to be used and defiled. like a whore. is that who you are now y/n? a whore? the more he stares, the more it seems like it. you’re on your stomach, hands clenching the sheets and head thrown back in pleasure.

the pace of his thrusts has you letting out high pitched moans, a bit of saliva sliding down your chin. "e—eren." you cry out and armin would've walked in there and punched the daylights out of his own best friend because no one deserves to hear you calling their name out like that except for him. it's unfair. so unfair he could fucking die out of fury right now. but he didn't. he stood there, frozen because hitting his best friend—anyone is out of character for him.

it would've raised eyebrows and questions he doesn't want to answer. but still...the way eren snaps his cock in you sloppily, the slap of skin against skin filling the room makes him bite down on his tongue to the point of blood. the anger is consuming him and he's not sure he can watch this torture any longer.

"y—you're—n—ngh so big, eren." you moan like a bitch in heat, tongue almost lolling out as eren grabs your hair, pulling your head back even more so he can plant a disgusting kiss on your lips.

at least you're still dressed, outfit clinging to your sweaty body. at least he doesn't get to see anything too valuable. at least armin still has that for himself. it's when eren grips your clothed breast that he decides enough is enough, he's ready to open the door and storm in the room but a hand is quickly grabbing his forearm.

he freezes, has someone been watching him? did they see anything? fuck, are they going to think he's some huge pervert? judging by his actions tonight, maybe he is. he slowly turns around, closing the door in front of him before the person can ask any questions.

it's historia. her pupils are dilated as she leans onto armin's arm. the booming sound of the music from downstairs drowns out whatever she's slurring out right now but armin pretty's sure he has a gist of it. "let's get you home." he sighs, placing his hand on her shoulder.

she shakes her head, "we—gotta...find y/n." she says a bit louder, clenching her eyes shut before opening them again. "my head hurts." she whines.

"that's what happens when you decide to act like a damn delinquent." he mutters bitterly more to himself, it's not like she'll remember any of this tomorrow. "now let's go home before mom kills us."

"but—y/n. we came with her, we can't just...just..." she clenches the front of his shirt before letting out a choked gag.

armin huffs, almost throwing her off before she ruins his clothes but even as annoying as she is, leaving his sister in a place like this isn't such a good idea. especially for his reputation. he would take y/n with him as well but it seems she's too preoccupied. too tainted to think straight.

but like he said, he'll make sure to fix that. he has two months to get everything back to the way they were. and maybe even a little better.

he's waited years for your friendship with him to blossom into something more but it seems nothing will happen without him egging a few things on first.

he spends the entire night tossing and turning, nightmares of the party before repeating in his head over and over again.

if it was anything else, he thinks he would've been able to let it go after taking a few precautions. but this isn't anything else. this is big and it only spirals the blotchy jealously he's tried hard to keep under wraps over the years, threatening to invade his thoughts with vile images.

he's awake long enough to hear the front door opening at three in the morning. immediately getting up and walking towards his slightly open door, knowing it's you. historia and his mother are sound asleep and besides his father who's rarely home due to work, you're the only one left with a key.

he made sure to pressure historia into getting you one as soon as possible the second he found out you were spending the summer with them. groaning fills the silence of the house followed by you stumbling up the stairs. he expects to hear you go into the guest room you're staying in or historia's bedroom but the bathroom door opens instead.

a few minutes passes before he hears you groaning again, this time louder and his feet inch towards the hallway, wanting nothing more than to go to you. but then that angry feeling rises again and an acidic taste resides on his tongue. he doesn't want to be angry at you, he's never been angry at you. he should be furious with eren only. the way he took advantage of your kindness and obliviousness isn't right. if you were sober, you never would've gone for him.

he sighs heavily, walking towards the bathroom door. you're slouched over the toilet, gagging into it and he races over. the concern is etched on his face as his hand rests on your back, startling you. you turn your head, movements sluggish. "armin?"

he didn't even have the decency to walk you inside? make sure you got into bed properly? fucking asshole.

"you okay?" he asks. it's the most you two have spoken to each other all summer.

"y-yeah." you wipe your lips. "sleepy." you murmur.

he gets up, putting his arm around your waist as he helps you stand. "rinse your mouth." he mutters and you obey, going to the sink to put some water in your mouth and spitting it out. "let's get you to bed."

you two stumble out of the bathroom, he makes sure to keep his hands around your waist. his chest constricting with want as he gets to feel you, it's been ages since you two have touched each other. he eyes your bedroom door, that's where he originally wanted to take you but he can't help but think back to that party. at how eren got to experience everything he wasn't able to. then he sees the bruises on your neck, he grits his teeth so hard he's sure they're going to chip any second.

no. he deserves this little thing. it's not like he's going to do anything inappropriate, he's not like that jackass who decided he deserved to touch you like that. he just wants to be near you. it's been awhile, too long. and it's not like you two haven't slept in the same bed before.

that's what he tells himself as he guides the both of you towards his own bedroom, slowly placing you on the bedsheets to which you immediately snuggle into. he eyes flicker towards the closet door, contemplating whether to take out a random t-shirt and place you in it but you'd just be waking up with questions he wouldn't be able to answer. the armin everyone knows can't even look at a girl without blushing, let alone undress her.

so he opts for just laying down besides you on the sheets, he can explain this if you wake up confused. that you just drunkly stumbled in his room and laid down next to him. he turns his head, captivated by every rise and fall of your chest. your eyelashes fluttering as you snuggle deeper into the pillow, letting out incoherent whimpers.

his fingers slowly trace your cheek, chest burning badly with want. all he wants to do is touch, touch, touch. you just look so beautiful, so serene. and he can't help brush a thumb over your bottom lip. the same lips that were moaning out eren's just a few hours ago. that dark feeling is back and he can't help but press his finger down on your lip harshly, you let out a tiny whine but keep your eyes closed, too sleepy to really comprehend what's going on.

what's so special about him? he doesn't get it. eren's a meathead. he isn't fit to take care of you, to cater to your every need and make sure you never have to want for anything. to be ready to do whatever is necessary to keep you happy, even if it means hurting those you don't realize are harming you.

he leans forward, lips ghosting over yours but never touching. no, he wants you to be awake and alert for when your lips finally meet. so you can see no one else in this world but him deserves you. but fuck, he wants to kiss you. your lips look so soft, so addicting, like they were made for him. and they were. every inch of your body was created for him just like his was for you.

he needs to make this right, make you see what was standing in front of you all long. he could punch himself for not realizing he needed to act on this sooner.

but he will now. he'll make sure to fix everything.

armin wakes up before you, not wanting to be in the room when you finally snapped out of your slumber. fortunately, you don't stay asleep too long, waking up only thirty minutes after.

he's already made breakfast by then, blueberry pancakes just the way you like them. you step into the kitchen and he almost drops the glass of orange juice he's holding. you're dressed in his oversized hoodie with some shorts, it practically engulfs your frame as you awkwardly sit on a stool.

you're wearing his clothes.

his clothes are touching your skin right now. making contact with your chest, stomach and breasts. he gulps, placing the glass down. "m-morning."

"morning..." you trail off, slowly drumming your fingers on the counter. "pancakes?"

he quickly pushes a plate towards you, he shamelessly designed it like it held a five course meal instead of simple pancakes but you seem to appreciate it as you gasp. "this looks amazing."

"did you sleep well?" he deliberately asks that question just to see you squirm.

you tense up, picking up the fork as you jab the pancakes. "yeah...uh sorry i was in your room and...bed. must've stumbled in there last night."

"it's fine." he smiles. "i slept on the couch, no worries." the lie flows out as if he didn't spend the last few hours cuddling you like you were going to run away any second.

"oh."

"what?"

"nothing." you shake your head, chewing.

"no really, what?" he presses, leaning on the counter towards you.

"well...i mean i wouldn't have a trouble if you slept in the same bed, it's not like we haven't done it before."

"that was a long time ago." he says but the fact you remembered fills him up with glee. so your mind hasn't been completely infiltrated with his so called best friend, you still think of armin.

"yeah but we were really close before...you know. i'm sure—"

"before what?" he asks, forcing the confusion to appear on his face even though he knows exactly what you're talking about.

you fidget, "before you started to distance yourself." you sigh, perhaps growing a bit agitated under his intense gaze.

"hmm." he hums. "well, studies and all that, you know how it is. but i'm sure you found plenty of people to fill in that hole i left behind."

you raise an eyebrow, "well...i wouldn't—"

"did you miss me, though y/n?" he places his hand under his chin, staring at you. "you walked into my room like it was second nature, snuggled right into my bed like it was home. it was pretty cute."

you nibble on your bottom lip, "i'm sorry about that. gosh, that's so embarrassing."

"answer the question." he urges, tone being a little bit more stern then he intended.

your eyes widen for a moment, "yeah—uh i missed you. didn't you miss me?" you ask shyly.

a far contrast from the moans that were leaving your lips last night. "of course i missed you." he nods. "you, me and historia were such a tight nip group back then. but then college came around and things changed. we changed, didn't we?"

"yeah, i guess."

"you never used to go to parties before and now look at you, stumbling in at three am like some drunkard. makes me wonder what else you've been up to." he continues nonchalantly, plucking a berry into his mouth.

you lick your lips, hands clenching around the fork. a few seconds pass by before you let out a laugh meant to lighten the mood, "i almost forgot how intense you can be, geez lighten up armin. your stare is practically boring into me." you play with the sleeve of his hoodie, trying to hide your discomfort.

discomfort. he doesn't want you to feel that around him. he'll have to change that, make you see his behavior is only intended to help you. protect you from the evils in the world because you're simply too native to notice them. "and i didn't even wanna go to that party in the first place. i suggested star gazing but historia called it dumb."

"of course she did, her idea of a good time is getting so drunk she could faint." he rolls his eyes. "anyways. speaking of change, did you talk to eren last night?"

you almost choke on the pancake, quickly putting the fork down so you can grab the glass of water and gulp it down. "n-no! why would i speak to eren? i barely know the guy."

you've always been a bad liar—always overexaggerating everything.

"just wondering. i haven't been able to get a hold of him. mikasa wants to speak to him."

"mikasa? why?" that certainly piques your curiosity.

"well, they are best friends and he left campus without telling her where he was going apparently. she's at her hometown with her parents and is worried sick."

"can’t you be the messenger or something?”

he clicks his tongue, walking over and sitting next to you. "i'm not sure this message can be passed down through me." he smiles, making sure your thighs are touching.

"why not?" you ask timidly, as if afraid for his answer.

"well, i'm sure you know about how...special their relationship is. right before we left for break, eren told me he was planning on confessing his feelings for her when we got back and then she just texted me saying—"

"what?" your lips form into a frown, doe eyes filled with confusion. it's so cute. so naive and cute. "eren likes her?"

"of course he likes her silly, everyone knows those two are head over heels for each other. practically in a relationship already. it'll be so cute when we get back to campus and see them finally get together, don't you think so? their bond is truly something remarkable."

you stay silent, eyes staring down at your pancakes. do you actually like him? armin refrains from a scoff, how could you be so dumb to fall for someone like eren? "what's wrong? you look like you've seen a ghost."

"f-fine."

he nods, hand going to touch the syrup in the corner of your lips. you look surprised for a second as his tongue darts out to lick his finger. "we'll be spending two whole months in this house together." he changes the subject, having accomplished what he wanted to do. he doubts the eren situation is over yet but he has all the time to permanently destroy it. and he will.

"don't we think we should rekindle the friendship? it's gonna be awkward if we continue ignoring each other."

"you're the one who ignored me." you murmur.

"i wanna fix that, i'm sorry y/n. i'm sure we can go back to where we left off, hmm?"  he lean down so your faces are closer together, your eyes widening at that the movement. "would you like that?"

it looks like you're nodding before you can even register what he's saying. you've always been like that. so compliant. it used to be adorable but now all he can think about is how eren used that submissiveness and naivety to sink his claws into you. no one can be trusted around you. only armin.

"y—yeah." you smile, sullen mood from the news he just delivered temporarily gone. "i've missed you a lot."

"i've missed you too."

"what's this?" you ask as you walk into the living room a few hours later, granola bar in hand. still wearing his hoodie.

"a fort?"

"i can see it's a fort, but why?" you walk over to the sofa, plopping down on it.

"we used to make these all the time in high school, and since we're going to be friends again. don't you think—"

"so a fort?" you hum. "you usually hated when we made these, always calling it childish."

"well..." he steps towards the coffee table, picking up the miniature planetarium he stashed in his closet a few years ago. "you said you wanted to go stargazing so—"

"so you brought the stars to me?" your tone isn't mocking but you do chuckle a bit. "i don't know if that's sweet or just—"

"i think it's sweet." he grins, walking towards you. "so what do you think?" he gestures towards the fort. he didn't spent the last fifteen minutes moving furniture and gathering almost all pillows, sheets and cushions in the house for this for you to reject his offer. he needs to see you with that look in your eyes, looking at the stars with admiration. he misses it. the last sight in his mind is of you at that party, eyes gleamed over with lust and that hammered look. it plays over and over again and he's sick of it.

"sure." you beam, not waiting for him to make the first move as you crawl into the fort. the sanctuary he made for just the two of you.

he goes in after you, thighs touching yours as you sit next to each other. he made the insides small on purpose, just so he could feel you. he turns the projector on and you both watch as the speckles of light start to form on the sheets.

"whoa." you mutter to yourself, entrapped by the glowing of the luminescent blues and purples. "you really did all this for me?" you ask, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"wouldn't be the first time i went all out for you." he moves closer to you, breathing fanning on your face. "i'd do anything for you y/n, i thought you knew that already."

you're his. he should do whatever it takes to care of what's his.

you stare at him, a definite picture of of purity with those big mesmerizing eyes. your mouth gapes open trying to come up with a response but nothing comes out. armin watches a bead of sweat trail down your forehead, it's almost scorching in here. he knows it would've happen in this summer heat so he slowly picks up the mini electric. "hot?"

"w-what about you?" you ask, visibly swallowing a lump in your throat.

he hesitates. c'mon armin. just be a man. so he wraps his hand around your waist and you recoil in surprise as he brings you into his lap so the fan is on both of your bodies. you place your hand on his thighs, squirming to get into a comfortable position. "a-armin..." you laugh, it's awkward. you're trying to ease the tension but he doesn't want that, he just wants to be near you,  consequences be damned.

he's usually smarter than this. smarter than acting before he thinks but that night won’t stop haunting him so he smiles as he leans his chin on your shoulder. "what? am i making you uncomfortable?"

"w—well no but...it's just very sudden. you were acting as if i didn't exist just a few days ago and you're now—"

"i just wanted to touch you y/n. it's been years without your touch." he whispers, resisting the urge to nibble on your earlobe. "didn't you miss me? miss my touches?" he asks innocently, wrapping both his hands around your waist to pull you closer. your back is flushed against his chest, ass directly on his crotch and it takes a lot of will power not to get a hard on.

"i did." you nod eagerly. "of course i did."

"so let me treat you for all those times i missed."

"okay." you say, seemingly without thinking.

"wanna get some barbecue tomorrow ?"

"i have to meet my parents. y'know, getting yelled at for my major. the usual."

he frowns. "they're still mad about that? you should talk to them."

"you know they never listen to me." you squirm again on his lap but abruptly stops as you realize where exactly you're sitting. "it's fine, i barely talk to them anyways. i'm sure they'll finally get over it once i graduate."

he should comfort you, say something along the lines of they'll come around or don't worry but instead what comes out is none of those. "you don't need them." he rustles against you. "i'll always support you y/n. like i always have"

even if you weren't aware, he was mostly always in the shadows and making sure you got everything you wanted. "well, they are my parents."

"they've never cared enough to listen to you, to see you." his tone changes, voice low now as more sweat beads down his forehead. "none of them have, have they?"

"i—i...i'm sure—"

"historia doesn't see you? does she? she says she's your best friend but she treats you like a lackey y/n. isn't that infuriating?"

you scoff, "that's not true." you go to get off his lap but he tightens his hold on you. he just needs to say this.

"is that why she rejected your offer of stargazing? why she always made fun of your outfit choices back in high school? she was always jealous of you, don't you see that? you're better than that, better than all of them." every single one.

he wishes he could see your face but he settles for this, just for this simple touch. "i don't know what you want me to say to that, armin." you breath out.

"i want you to see your worth, y/n. you deserve better than all of this. don't you think so? you deserve the world." he can't help himself as he leans into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

you're not creeped out, or at least you're not attempting to get up anymore. "and what, you can give me that? is that what you're saying?"

he wasn't meant to have this type of conversation right now, it was just supposed to be a nice evening of laying down in this fort. but he saw an opportunity and why not take it?

"you know i can." he answers. "you know i'd do anything for you."

you turn your head slightly, looking at him. "really?" you question. "anything?" you sound intrigued and he swears you're leaning in, it's not his imagination right? you really are.

but before your lips can even brush against each other, historia's screeching voice booms in the living room. "y/n! it's time to get ready."

you quickly get off, almost throwing yourself to the ground as you scoff awkwardly. as if being knocked out of a trance. you don't even spare armin a glance as you crawl out.

get ready for what?

"another party?" armin leans on the doorway frame, watching his sister apply her makeup. "you two went to one just last night—and halloween themed? it's the middle of summer."

"that's what makes it fun!" she smiles, putting the blush down and standing up. she decided to go as a cat. or at least, he thinks it's a cat. drawn on whiskers with an ear headset, a damn tail, short dress with long fishnets.

she looks like a whore. she's been acting like a whore ever since summer started and he realizes maybe that's why you’re acting so different. you live near each other in the dorms and historia must be rubbing off of you.

he tries and keeps his outrage down as historia gets up, walking towards the door. "we'll be back at twelve...hopefully."

"no, you'll be back at twelve." he grits his teeth. "you'll get drunk like an idiot dear sister, and leave y/n all alone at some strangers house. again."

she blushes, offended at the assumption. "you're the one who brought me home last night, why are you blaming it on—"

"would mother appreciate this? you dressed up like a skank and going to a party two nights in a row?"

he shouldn't be saying this. it's not in his character and it's obvious historia is completely staggered at his behavior. "she's barely home and i doubt she cares what i do at night. unlike you, i haven't made it my life to be the perfect—"

"but i care." he's walking towards her before he can stop himself. "i care about the way you're treating y/n. dragging her to parties, getting her drunk so assholes can take advantage then leaving her high and dry. you're a bad influence, dear sister and it's truly annoying seeing you trying to turn her into some gross replica of you. she's not like that, she's not tainted like you. she's pure and i won't let—"

"you're hurting me jackass!" she whimpers and it's only then armin realizes he's seized her wrist, digging his nails into the skin.

he quickly lets go, clearing his throat. "sorry, just stressed from school."

the annoyance is clear in her eyes along with the rage but armin notices something else...a hint of fear? he scared her? fucking great. watch as she goes and rants to mother about her asshole of an older brother resulting in talks he definitely doesn't want to have.

"if you're so worried about y/n, come to the party like you did last night. keep an eye on your precious doll." she scoffs, shoving him away so she can step out the door, rubbing at her wrist.

that's not a total bad idea. it's a perfect way to get closer to you without seeming like a total creep plus he can keep eren and his greedy claws away. he quickly walks towards your door, knocking once before you're opening. his mouth nearly gapes open at the sight of you, how is it always possible for him to be blown away by your beauty every time he sees you? you're dressed in a short white dress, wearing a halo headset with wings.

an angel? fitting. very very fitting.

"you like it?" you grab the ends of the dress, showing it off. he notices you try very hard to not look at him in the eyes. "couldn't decide between a bride or angel. historia wanted me to go as a sexy nurse but i didn't really have—"

"gorgeous. you look gorgeous." it flows out of his tongue so smoothly it has the both of you tensing up.

"really?" you quirk an eyebrow, clearing your throat and finally looking at him. it feels so damn awkward—at least to you but you try to act normal nonetheless. "i expected a swarm of insults, you hate things like that."

"do i think having a halloween themed party in the middle of summer is completely and utterly idiotic? yes. but it doesn't deter from your blinding beauty."

a shy smile gathers on your face, "uh...thanks."

"ready to go? i'm driving.”

your eyes widen, "you? going to a party twice in a row? going to a party at all? are you okay?" your hand is quickly going to touch his forehead before he can comprehend what's going on. his cheeks immediately blaze red, taking a quick step back.

you take your hand away, letting out an uneasy laugh. "it's just a tough armin, not like i was going to stab you or something."

"i know—"

"you say you want our friendship back but you act like this...it's weird." you huff. "you've been acting weird ever since we left for college, no—you've been acting like an ass and i've let it go but this summer means a lot to me. i'm finally having fun for once in my life and i don't need you to come in and confusing me and—and what the hell was that fort—"

"i was just surprised!" he cuts off, tone more urgent than he wants it to be. "i do want us to be friends again!" he deliberately ignores the fort question.

he just wasn't prepared for the feeling of your skin against his in that moment. it’s usually him initiating the touches, not the other way around. he swallows the lump in his throat, quickly taking your hand in his. "i didn't mean to insult you. of course i want your touch, who wouldn't want it? you're—" he stops talking. stop it. stop it. he's babbling. "let's just go."

you nod, smiling again. at least you're not creeped out by his behavior.

the party is boring. it's only been an hour and he's bored out of his damn mind. other than drunk girls coming up to him and asking him what's he's supposed to be even though it's pretty freaking obvious he's not wearing a costume—the random loud shouting as someone starts taking shots is enough to drive him out of his mind.

but at least you're here.

he's made sure to keep an eye on you the second you guys got here. you've mostly been outside on the patio, drinking punch as you dance with some friends. he occasionally touches his lips, thinking of how close they were to yours in that fort. the way you looked at him was filled with...well you definitely didn't look at eren like that last night. speaking of the devil— "eren." he smiles tightly as his friend sits next to him on the sofa. "vampire?" he asks, eyeing his costume.

"is that alcohol?" he looks at the cup in armin's hand. "i need to get drunk immediately."

"it's water."

"water. of course it's water." he chuckles. "what else do i expect from mr goody two shoes?"

armin rolls his eyes, "why are you so desperate to find a way to act like even more of an idiot?" he mutters as if there aren't piles of cups around them, not to mention the cases of beer he's sure are in the fridge.

"nothing." he groans, leaning against the couch. "it's a party. getting drunk is what you're supposed to do."

"hmmm." he hums. "just thought it had to do with something else."

"like what?"

"well...i saw you and y/n the other night, getting it on."

"please never say getting it on ever again." he grins, sitting back up.

he's grinning...as if he didn't just commit a great sin against armin. didn't put his hands on armin's girl, didn't...he grits his teeth. how can he act so careless? as if he had any right to do what he did last night?

"do you like her?"

eren arches an eyebrow, looking at him. "what's it to you?"

"you don't do relationships. you hump and dump and y/n and i are very close. i don't want her becoming one of your victims."

"that's none of your business." he scoffs.

"just answer the question." his eyes bore into the others, clenching the cup in his hand to the point the liquid is overflowing onto his lap but he could care less. "cause if so, that's really pathetic. she always expresses how much of a idiot you are, it's funny really. how she had to be drunk to finally sleep with you."

"she wasn't drunk." he says through gritted teeth. "we were both a little tipsy but not drunk enough to—"

"why are you even doing this with her? she doesn't like you."

"again. it's none of your business." eren deadpans. "what's wrong with you tonight? we're both—"

"you're right." armin sighs, letting out an exaggerated laugh like he's just realized how crazy he sounds. even though he knows he’s acting perfectly sane right now, who wouldn’t be mad if they discovered what armin did? "i'm being weird, i'm just really protective of y/n. she's like family to me, you know that."

eren bites his lip, still a bit tense but nods nonetheless. "i'm not doing anything...like that with her. i genuinely wanna see where things go."

oh.

he's not sure which answer would've been better but he shakes his head okay, licking his now dry lips. "wanna get drunk on the roof? just like we used to?"

"you mean i got drunk and you sat there, silently judging me." eren corrects, anxious atmosphere from before now gone. armin likes that about him. quick to forget and never holds grudges. "but sure, i'll get the beer."

"i have to go pee, see you on the roof." he salutes before eren walks into the kitchen. his eyes instantly travel towards you, feet dragging themselves towards the patio before he can stop.

he just wants to ask if you're okay before he departs, see if you don't need any assistance. you're surrounded by people...but it's people he doesn't trust. he doesn't trust anyone with you. for good reasons. before he can walk further to tap your shoulder, he hears the conversation you're having with abby—he thinks that's her name.

she's been over for sleepovers many times. never really liked armin, that's for sure. he's heard her call him fake at least two times, saying someone can't actually be that nice or perfect. fucking abby. why is she talking to you? he should've gotten rid of her long ago, sabotaged the friendship as soon as he realized her bad influence.

"just ask him out!" he hears her squeal. "literally, what are you waiting for? he's so hot."

something tells him she's not fangirling like this  over armin.

"it's just...it's gonna be awkward!" you sigh, leaning against the wall. see? you can make good choices all by yourself, it's the people around your corrupting you. warping your thoughts until they're no longer your own. "he's armin's best friend and—"

"ugh! who cares about that boring walking encyclopedia!" abby groans heavily. "eren is probably the most popular guy on campus, have you seen those abs? ask him out or i will!" she laughs and armin knows she's not joking.

"he's not...boring." you mutter. "he's actually a pretty cool guy and—"

"you're probably the only one who thinks that." she rolls her eyes.

she interrupted you again. why is she always interrupting you? and why do you never speak up on it?

"ask eren out! c'mon, who cares about what armin thinks? his head is too busy being buried in books to notice anyone else regardless." she shakes your hand frantically.

you squirm, slowly nodding. "maybe. i might. eren doesn't seem to be totally av—"

"gotta go pee." she lets go of your hand. "drank way too much beer."

"want me to go with you?"

you're so nice. why are you so nice?"

"no, it's fine. it'll only take two seconds." she smiles, walking back inside. armin already made himself scarce the second she turned around, watching her walk up the stairs.

he should just go to the roof, talk to eren...but it seems eren isn't the only one standing in the way of his relationship with you. everyone wants to jeopardize it and he's had enough. so he's walking upstairs, not second guessing himself as he makes his way to the bathroom. he's been to this mansion many times before, his mother always having dinner with the owner of it to get into their good graces.

it doesn't take long before he finds it, the hallway is empty and he can hear abby inside. giggling nonsense to herself as she pees. she's drunk. probably wouldn't even remember his face.

he's not sure what he exactly plans to do but the second the door opens, he's immediately shoving her back inside. hands going to rest against her throat and mouth. fuck, he should've thought this through but all he can see right now is blind fury. people keep trying to tear you two apart and it's fucking with his brain. makes him so furious he just wants to punch everything in sight.

abby is screeching, trying to get out of his grip but she's a petite girl. barely weighing a hundred pounds. her back is to his chest and he prays she won't recognize him by the sound of his voice but even if she did...who cares? no one would believe her anyways. so he chuckles, not bothering to mask his voice.

"why do you keep getting in my way abby?" he sighs, applying a bit more pressure to her throat to which she whimpers at. "i don't want to hurt you so let this be a warning, hmm? stay away from y/n. never talk to her again, don't even think about her. that friendship is dead as of tonight? don't you think so?"

she only whimpers louder, trying to free herself so he applies even more pressure. she's now choking, little gasps trying to come out. "you're all trying to ruin her, it's so fucking annoying. just away, okay? it's simple enough, right? i'm going to let go now, don't turn around, don't scream unless you want me to break your windpipe? do you want that, abby?"

he's not sure he even knows how to break a damn windpipe, at least not yet but she doesn't know that. she nods frantically, tears flowing down her cheeks and onto armin's fingers. "great, now run away. all the way home." he lets her go and she doesn't need to be told twice as she bolts out of the room.

well, that was easy. he refrains from laughing as he leans on the doorway. she was all bark and no fight. always insulting armin but suddenly turning into a pathetic, sniveling bitch once he actually does something in retaliation.

he's feeling confident tonight, smiling ear to ear as he walks towards an open bedroom. the balcony door is wide open and he steps out onto it. climbing onto the roof doesn't take much effort, he's been doing it with eren for years.

speaking of eren.

another problem he needs to fix.

getting eren drunk isn't a hard thing to do. it only took a few minutes on the roof before he was slurring his speech. fortunately armin got them both back down on the balcony before the other could gravely injure himself.

injuring his best friend badly isn't on his to do list. at least physically. eren grips his forearm as armin lays him down on a random chair, the summer air causing eren's hair to flow around.

he understands why y/n is so smitten, he guesses. he's a pretty good looking guy. but so is armin. isn't he? he got rid of that haircut he would always get teased for, went to the gym a few nights and developed actual abs, don’t girls love abs...so why him? is it because he's popular? maybe cause he didn't wait eons to make a move like armin is currently doing.

whatever.

soon enough, he's going to be out of the equation.

eren's too inebriated to even realize where he is. this won't be hard, not one bit. "eren." armin sings. "i dare you to punch that railing." he leans against said railing, watching eren's sluggish movements as he stands up.

he's a jock, they love stupid dares. especially when they're drunk. eren scoffs in disbelief, offended armin even had to dare him. like he would've done it regardless. "easy."

"you sure you won't hurt yourself?" at least too badly.

he rolls his eyes and before armin can blink, his knuckles are slamming into the railing. he actually did it. why are jocks so easy? "that was so weak." armin challenges. "lame."

eren punches it again without saying anything, then again and again and armin has to hold him back and push him back on the chair before he's breaking his own bones. he examines his knuckles, bruised and bloodied. just like he wanted them. "h..how was that? cool right?" he slurs, smiling happily to himself.

admin nods, "very cool. now go to sleep." he hums lightly, patting the others head again until he's snuggling into the chair.

armin waits a few minutes until he's sure eren's finally sleeping. he walks towards the wall, letting out a few puffs to brace himself. he's doing all this for you. it'll be fine. he can do it.

he doesn't allow himself to think twice before he's slamming his forehead into the wall. fuck. fuck that hurts. but he can do it. it's for y/n. it's for their relationship. he can do it. so he does it again, and again until blood is dripping down his face.

fucking hell, it hurts.

he winces as he takes out his phone, wiping the blood on the wall with the sleeve of his sweater. he dials your number and you answer on the first ring. so perfect. so damn perfect.

"hey! where'd you disappear to?" your chirpy voice says on the other line.

"y/n." he makes sure to add emphasis on his voice, "c-can you come upstairs to the balcony? second bedroom on your right."

"uh...sure. are you okay?"

he decides to hang up at that, you're coming so there's no reason to continue talking. dots start to form in his eyes, he should've expected that. slamming your head repeatedly onto a wall will do that to someone.

you arrive not twenty seconds later, hurrying up into the room and gasping once you see the sight of him. "oh my gosh!" you rush over, placing a hand on his shoulder as your examine his face. "what ha—" it's then that you notice a sleeping eren in the seat next to you two.

and normally you wouldn't even jump to such a conclusion but with the way eren's knuckle is bruised...armin left little to be assumed. "don't tell me..." you trail off, eyes widening with disbelief as you look between the two of them.

"it's fine." armin breaths out, squinting his eyes shut at the pain. "he—he must've gotten too drunk and—it's fine."

"it's not fine!" you exclaim. "he...oh gosh why would he do that?"

he stands up from the seat he's been leaning against. "he was drunk, he wasn't thinking straight. it's my fault for mentioning mikasa knowing how—"

"mikasa?" your voice is so meek it has him finally looking at you. you look hurt, like a wounded little deer and although it pains him—he's only doing this to help you. you'll see it soon enough.

"yeah, all i did was mention how if he doesn't hurry and man up, she'll be swept away by some other guy on campus. you know how mikasa is, everyone loves her and i guess he got too mad. my fault for messing with true love." he chuckles, trying to lighten to the atmosphere. "sorry, that last part was cheesy but truly i'm—are you okay?"

your bottom lip is sucked in between your teeth anxiously, slight tears forming in your eyes. "f-fine."

"are my injuries really making you cry? wow, didn't know you cared so much."

he tries not to think about the fact you're actually crying over eren. fucking eren.

you let out a forced laugh, "y-yeah." you sniff. "let's get you home. him too."

"is he usually so...violent?" you ask once you two are in the car, driving eren home. "and don't you need stitches for that or something?"

"not usually so violent. i only see him get so worked up when it's something he's truly passionate about."

"...right."

"and for the stitches part? i don't think so." at least he hopes not.

you nod.

"he's my best friend, i'm not sure he didn't mean to do it."

"he still hurt you though, that's messed up." you look at him, frown visible on your face. "your face is too adorable to get a fist punched into it."

"adorable?" he gasps, making a turn. "i'm hot. i'd like to think i stopped being adorable right when i entered college."

you laugh, "yeah. i guess."

"you guess what?" he asks, teasing smile on his face.

you smile, "you're...hot. there? did i boost your ego enough?"

"you have no idea, angel."

you're taken back by the pet-name but then realize it probably has to do with your outfit as you lean back onto the chair, staring at the passing houses.

eren's cozy in his bed a couple minutes later, snuggling into the pillows. "wonder what he's gonna feel when he wakes up knowing he beat the crap out of his best friend." you murmur, watching him on the bed.

"he did not beat the crap out of me!" armin scoffs, defensively. you giggle, "those bruises look pretty serious to me."

"doesn't mean he beat the crap out of me! it's just harmless bruises."

"sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

he walks closer to you, "he really didn't. unless you haven't noticed, i've grown from that scrawny boy a years back. i can handle a fight."

"yeah, i've noticed but eren goes to the gym like a million times a day—"

"but did eren take a year of marital arts?" he counters.

"the dude is built like a bodybuilder, i doubt he needs marital arts."

"that's where you're wrong, dear y/n. brains win over brawn anytime."

"except for tonight." you say, mischievous glint in your eyes.

he blows air out through his lips in disbelief and it's only when he sees you squint at the movement that he realizes how close they are together. so close that all he needs to do is lean in a few inches and your lips are touching. should he? you're watching him intensely, like you also want to know what his next move is.

do you want him to? he doesn't know. he planned much more experiences to get you to realize he's the one for you. he doesn't want your first kiss with him to be in eren's bedroom, of all places. but maybe a petty part of him does want that. a way of getting back at eren for what he did. for almost taking you away from armin.

your eyes flicker up, staring at him before flicking back down to his lips. it seems you want to make the first move as your lips brush against his and armin has to will himself to not fall down because his knees feel like they're going to give out any second. holy...is this really happening? he's been waiting for this his entire life. for you to finally...fuck, your fingers idly play with the buttons of his shirt before you're deepening the kiss.

he doesn't know why but he pulls away, "why should i kiss you y/n?" he asks, voice teasing yet stern at the same time.

your body heats up from embarrassment, "i—don't you like me? the fort—"

"do i like you?" he could almost scoff at the stupid question. "do you like me?"

you look up at him, stumbling for words to say to that. you look like he's just asked you to commit murder, biting harshly on your bottom lip before breathing out. "y-yes." your voice is so timid. "i've always liked you."

oh?

oh.

"and yet you were under eren like a whore the entire night." he's not sure why he allowed that to come out but he did. you inhale sharply, quickly shaking your head. "n—no. i—"

"what? it's not like you two tried to hide it. with the way you were giggling, the way you were moaning his name."

"you saw that?"

"of course i did. how can i kiss you when you've been with eren? moaning his name, crying for him to go deeper. do you you think you deserve my kiss, y/n?" he keeps his face impassive but he's filled with glee on the inside. at the humiliation on your face, the guilt.

"i-i'm sorry!" you stammer. "i s-slept with him and i...i admit i do like him but it's clear he doesn't feel the same way an—"

"so what? i'm just a second resort?"

"no!" you quickly deny. "i've liked you for so long, armin but you've made it clear you didn't want this friendship to continue. and after this morning...and tonight i don't want to let more years pass by before i confess my feelings a—i'm sorry for what i did with eren—i really...i'm sorry." your eyelashes have tears on them, fingers digging into his shirt as you try not to full on break down.

it's so adorable. you've always been a crybaby. "i probably don't deserve it but...please...please kiss me." your bottom lip trembles.

"well go on, kiss me." he wanted to tease more, have you grovel and beg but how can he? when you're looking so desperate for just one kiss.

have you really? always liked him? has he been so blind to not notice? fucking idiot. so you have always been on the right track, you've always known what you wanted. it's others who stopped you from achieving what you truly wanted. others and armin's stupid decisions.

he allows you to lean in, your nails almost digging into his cheeks as you kiss him. he instantly wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. you tilt your head to the side to get a better angle, and just as your tongues meet, armin pulls out again which elicits a whimper from you. "what..."

he grabs your jaw harshly, fingertips digging into the sides as he forces you to open your mouth. you look so pretty like this for him. dressed in white with a damn halo over your head as you look at him with that expression on your face. eyes just begging for you to be fucked. he doesn't think as he spits in your mouth and you whimper but don't protest.

he lets go and you swallow without a second thought, eyes focused on him. he can see why eren was so rough that night, you're just asking for it. "you let him fuck you, y/n. let him touch you."

should he even be acting so possessive right now? he should save that for later, when he's wired the fact you belong to him and only him into your brain. but that look in your eyes...it seems you already know. and his cock twitches at the possibility. do you? do you already know who you belong to y/n?

he drags you back until your back bumps against the dresser, his hand grabs your cunt which is practically aching for him already. "you let him touch this. this which belongs to me." he says into your ear and you whimper, clenching his shirt.

"s—sorry, p—lease please i'm so—nngh!" armin pinches your clit, mercilessly digging his fingers into the sensitive bud.

"who does this belong to?"

slick is already forming, coating his fingers. tears gather in your eyes, "y-you."

it's like fireworks went off inside of him, like he's finally seeing the light after years and years of pining. you do know. you know that every inch of you belongs to him, that you weren't made for anyone else. you were made for him. only him.

you shiver as his lips plant soft kisses on your chest, his hand gripping your hip. those hips he's always had too many fantasies about to count. he bites down, wanting everyone to see his marks on you. to see who you belong to. his teeth nip on your chest, jaw, chin, neck—anywhere he can leave marks.

he just wants to make you feel good, so good you forget about all your other past partners. he roughly turns you around so you can see yourself in the mirror behind you, your hands lean on the dresser, a dazed look already in your eyes. "you don't care that he's here?" armin whispers.

you shake your head, "i don't. please armin, fuck me."

you let out a wonderful moan as he pulls your dress up, ripping your panties and throwing them on the ground. he dives a finger inside of your needy cunt, "fuck!" you whimper.

"does it hurt?" he mocks. he doubts it does. not with the way you're trembling with pleasure under his touch. "i'm sorry angel but you don't deserve lube. not after everything you put me through me."

you nod helplessly, not even disagreeing with his words. "i'm so sorry." tears fall down your cheeks, eyes looking back into his through the mirror.

you're so weak for his touch and it's so gratifying. it's all he's ever wanted.  "you're so pretty, so tight just for me." he inserts another finger, curling them until your legs start shaking under your own weight. he holds you up, teeth grazing your neck and peppering kisses on your back.

it's so hot. everything feels so hot as the moans travel out of your lips, the sound of his fingers inside of you followed by your high pitched whining. it's almost too much. eren is right there and although he's not waking up anytime soon, it's just...fuck. it takes another finger before you're spilling onto his hand, guttural moan escaping your lips as you almost fall down.

he smiles in ecstasy, bringing his fingers to his lips and shamelessly licking every single white spot he finds on them. why would he be ashamed? he's been waiting for this his entire life. this is all he could ever ask for. "it tastes just like candy." he grins near your ear.

you shiver, "please...please fuck me."

he doesn't allow himself any more stalling, he's gonna have the rest of your lives together to taste and tease you. right now, all he wants to do is sink into that tight heat. so he does. and you both moan at the feeling. it's so hot, taking it in like armin's cock was always meant to be there. and it was, wasn't it?

"fuck..." he grips your hips, starting to thrust up. the arousal eating him up.

"so—big." you choke out as he starts to fill you up all the way. "feels so good..." you grip his cock so perfectly. everything you do is so perfect.

he starts to thrust harder once you've adjusted, not sparing any time as he pounds into you. the items on the dresser start to shake, moving around but none of you care enough. skin slaps against skin, his fingers clench your hips while yours dig into the dresser. he grins at the way your mouth falls open, tongue lolling around as you're helpless to way he's drilling into you.

you love this. it's so evident on your face. you love the fact it's armin behind you, the fact it's him inside of you right now. you didn't even ask for a condom...fuck how perfect would that be? you filled up with his babies. he could almost cum just at the thought.

but he doesn't. instead he increases his pace, fucking you eagerly. "wanted this for so long. fuck, you're so tight. feels so good. you're so perfect. so so perfect."

you let out a wet sob, whether at his actions or words—he doesn't know but he relishes the sound. "you like that y/n? being pounded into like you're nothing? while the guy you claim to like sleeps not even five feet away? it's pathetic." he chuckles.

and he's not usually so mean. he won't be during your other sexual activities. no he'll treat you like a princess, like the perfect angel you are. but right now, he's angry. and you need to know your place.

"suh—sorry." you cry out. "won't do it again. so sorry." you shake your head, grinding your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you throw your head back, mouth parted and begging for a kiss to which armin gives. your tongues meet, swirling around together as he licks into your perfect mouth. you two moan into each others mouths as armin continues his pace and—fuck he has to almost slap himself for being an idiot and not doing this sooner as he brings his hand around to cup your right breast, clenching it tightly and you moan deliciously at the contact.

he grips it as your tongue goes to lick his teeth, licking anything really. you're so needy. just as needy as him. your moans get even louder and he's thankful eren's parents are out on some business trip cause he's pretty sure the entire neighborhood can hear you right now. "so—ah! so good armin. you make me feel so good." you say, voice airy. "please fill me up, please i want your cum."

he's pretty sure those exact words are the reason for the orgasm that happens not two seconds later. he grips your waist tightly, cock deep inside as he empties everything in you. you practically scream, legs shaking as armin continues to grind into you. making you feel every single inch of him. because it all belongs to you.

"so perfect." he pants, resting his sweaty forehead on your back. "so perfect."

would now be a good time to say he loves you?

you’re avoiding him.

at first he just thought you were just a bit shy considering the circumstances, you two were close friends then went through a period of barely speaking to each other for months only for him to end up fucking you in someone else’s bedroom.

so he gave you time to process all of that but it’s been two weeks...how much more time do you need? the first week he tried to stay calm but now it’s getting too much, the last time he gave you space you two didn’t speak for so long. that was his fault and he won’t make it again, he can’t go through that again. not after finally having a taste of you.

he sighs deeply, digging his fingers under the pillow and taking out the pink lace bra he took out of your drawer the other day. he just misses you too much. it feels like he can’t breath whenever you awkwardly walk out of a room once you see him, how you deliberately ignore his unwavering gaze, how you haven’t said even a single word to him.

it fills him up with anxiety and he needs to find a way to release somehow so he shamelessly acquired this piece of material. it’s not like he’s committed some crime, he just needed to find a way to be near you. to feel you again.

he wishes he could see it on you, maybe he’ll ask you to keep it on next time you two make love again. his hand was under his sweatpants the second he felt himself harden, quickly tugging on his length until he was panting into the pillow. “y/n...” he moans.

he needs you. needs to taste you, touch your soft skin and feel it under his fingertips. needs to hear your moans, see your scrunched up eyebrows and dazed out eyes as he pounds into you...fuck you’d be clawing at his shoulders just like that night. you’d be so tight as sweat drips down both of your bodies.

he grips his cock tighter, toes curled and eyes shut tight as the bra is held to his chest. if only he could live between your legs forever, feeling your tight heat and hearing your pretty little sounds. he’d never want to leave.

you’ve been gone all day, barely been around the last two weeks and he had no idea how much his schedule depended on you being near. even when he was ignoring you, most of the things he did throughout the day consisted of taking care of you. making sure you got to your classes, took your morning jokes safely, how he used to watch you study in the library and so much more. but he didn’t even know where you were now, he had your entire routine memorized back on campus. it definitely isn’t the same now that school was temporarily over.

loneliness was creeping in. he doesn’t know what to do without you. it’s not like he could study to pass the time anymore. fuck. all he needed was one more tug before he was releasing all over his hand.

that was unsatisfactory. it’s not like the real thing. masturbating does nothing anymore once he’s actually been inside of you. he groans, frustration threatening to take him apart as he gets up and walks towards the bathroom. it only takes a few minutes before he’s cleaned up and changed his clothes, ready to go to sleep.

but then he hears something.

rustling outside, right under his window. then he hears your soft voice, uttering something he can’t quite hear. he walks closer to it, thankful he left it slightly open.

what he sees...is definitely not what he expected.

his fingers unconsciously clench the window handle, almost breaking his nails in the process as he watches eren—eren walking down the lawn and into the street.

he was...he was in your room? he didn’t hear the front door open and there’s no other way for eren to have walked in unless he climbed that tree next to the two rooms. why was he in your room?

armin tastes blood in his mouth, biting down on his tongue so harshly that his teeth pierced into it. while he was in here, agonizing over your absence—you were in there with him. doing who knows what.

well, it’s pretty obvious what you were up to as he watches the pep in eren’s steps.

fucking hell.

he thought he fixed that.

are the healing bruises in his face just...fuck why are you with him? he shakes his head, trying to calm down but it’s pointless at this rate. he should’ve done more, he would’ve done more but then you suddenly came onto him that night and he thought he had won. apparently not.

playing nice is pointless. it seems you like men like eren regardless of the crappy actions they do. what’s wrong with you?

he’s walking to your bedroom in the next second, fists clenching and unclenching. what’s wrong with you? he goes to knock but then scoffs bitterly before sharply opening the door, hearing the sound of it smacking against the wall.

you’re on your bed, gasping and eyes widening at the abrupt action and sound. “armin—what—”

you’re just wearing an oversized shirt...that is definitely not his. looks like eren’s old football jersey. fucking hell. what is wrong with you, y/n?

“are you serious?” he breathes out, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. “are you fucking serious?” he takes a step forward and you anxiously scoot back on the bed.

“what are you doing?” you ask like he’s in the wrong. like he’s the one acting like a little confusing, manipulative whore.

“why are you doing this to me, y/n?” he grits out. “why?”

“doing what?” you raise your voice a bit, pursing your lips. the look in your eyes tells him you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“what’s so special about him? please tell me cause i don’t understand. why’d you go back to him even after everything he did? he doesn’t even love you—not like i do, how many times do i have to say no one loves you like i do?” he’s in front of you in a second, hands clenching your shoulders and slightly shaking you.

“y-you’re acting weird, armin.” your bottom lip starts to quiver. “you’re scaring me.”

“i’m scaring you?” he laughs. “not the man who almost beat me to a pulp? but it’s me who scares you?”

“l-like you said—he was drunk so...so he didn’t mean to! he said he apologized—”

“that’s not the point!” he yells, startling you. your eyes are widen to the point they look like they’re going to fall out but he doesn’t care. what’s wrong with you? “he’s brash, rude, inconsiderate. he could care less about you and trust me the second summer is over, he’s ditching your ass for someone else and yet you still pin after him? is that what you like y/n? do you enjoy getting walked over like a damn doormat by everyone? your parents, historia, abby and now eren? what the fuck is wrong with you?”

tears are gathering in your eyes, you bring your hands up to his and push them off of your shoulders. “you’re being mean.”

“i thought you liked that? unless it’s coming from me right? you allow everyone else to treat you like crap then come crawling to me with tears in your damn eyes when you need a safety net.” he seethes. “everyone else can be jackasses, except for me. i always need to be your perfect little armin.”

“what is your problem?” you stand up, facing him. trying to appear strong when you both know it’s all an act. you can barely stand up for yourself without crying. “you’re the one who ignored me for—”

“not this crap again. you’re the one who came onto me that night, saying you’re mine, begging me to fuck you and then you suddenly ignore me and go right back to eren even after everything.” he throws his hands up in the air.

“i like eren.” you exhale shakily, seems like those three words were the only ones you were capable of forming at the moment.

“you said you liked me too, remember? how you always liked me—”

“i was drunk that night, armin.” it’s said so nonchalantly, like it’s the actual truth but he knows better. he was watching you most of the night and you didn’t even go near a cup of alcohol.

fuck, he wants nothing more than to grip and throw you on that bed. fuck into you like the slut you apparently are and hear your soft noises. but it seems—it seems you don’t want that from him. you want that from eren. you want eren to be the big bad wolf and for armin to be your safe sanctuary whenever things get too rough.

he doesn’t want that. he wants to be your everything.

why can’t you allow that?

“so, what? you don’t want me?”

if being rough won’t work then he can try an alternative. it doesn’t matter if it makes him look pathetic, he needs you.

and the pain he’s in right now is excruciating, blurring his vision with tears. “can’t you at least try then y/n?” he walks over, hands suddenly grasping your wrists. the hold was rigid, crushing and even he was surprised at the sheer force of it. like he was trying to break something. “you can try to want me, to love me? can’t you? is it that hard? after everything i’ve done for you, you want to just leave me behind in the dust? everything i’ve done means nothing to you?”

you whimper, shaking your head no. “t—that’s not it. i just—” tears start to trail down your face, tiny sobs filling the room. “it’s not you, it’s me.”

“really? that crap line—”

“it’s the truth!” you exclaim, facing him again. “i...i don’t deserve you, armin. being with people like eren is better because even when i screw up, it won’t matter. b-but if we do get together than i’ll just mess everything up and hurt you and then i’ll lose you and i don’t wanna—i don’t want to lose you. i can’t.” you babble.

he stares at you, shock written all over his face. and disbelief, pure disbelief. that’s what you’re scared of? “the only thing that’s hurting me is you being with eren. it’s fucking kill me, y/n.” he chokes out. “and how many times do i have to tell you that i’ll never leave.”

“you left before.” you say, voice barley above a whisper. “you just left me alone to face everything and then you get mad cause of my choices—”

“i’m sorry, i regret doing that. so, so much.” he cups your cheeks, finally letting go of your wrist and it’s only then does he see the slight bruises his grip left on your wrist. fuck, why do you look so pretty with his marks?

“but that was the last time. i’m never leaving you again. i love you y/n. you’re all i need and i’m all you need, okay?” he leans his forehead against yours, taking in your everything. “okay?”

“but you can’t see the future, what if—”

“no.” he snaps, voice filled with finality. the only way he’s ever going to be apart from you is if the claws of death try to sink their way into him and even then, he’d find a way back to you. he can’t be without you. not anymore. it’s not even an option. “i won’t. i promise. okay?”

you stay silent for a minute, tears still streaming down as you sniff. “okay.” you rest your face in the crook of his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, please forgive me.” you sob.

that’s exactly what you said that night and you still went and betrayed him. and yes you cleared things up. he knows it was all because of insecure, self sabotaging thoughts that pierced their way into you but what if they come back? what if you do that again? he can’t see you with eren anymore, he won’t be able to control his actions if he does. he backs away, taking your jaw into his hand and staring at you.

“you won’t do that again, will you?” he’s not asking. the tone in his voice makes it clear committing something as atrocious as that isn’t even a possibility anymore.

you nod meekly, doe eyes staring into yours with a hint of fear but this time he doesn’t care. if a bit of fear will keep you from shattering his heart again, then he hopes it sticks forever.

“i won’t.” you smile timidly.

good.

he’s inside of you not ten minutes later, chest covering your back as he fondles your breast. leaving marks anywhere he can. you’re his. and he’ll make sure everyone knows it. teeth sinking into fragile flesh with no mercy and with the way you cry out, you don’t seem to mind.

you’re yelping with every thrust, fingers clenching the sheets and his end goal is take several rounds throughout the night, pound into you until you’re non verbal. barely able to even let out tiny whimpers. he wants you so fucked out that no other cock will fill you up the way he does. and most certainly not eren’s.

he can tell he’s close, quickly flipping you around so you’re straddling him now, hands wrapping around your neck as you cry out. he smirks at the sight in front of him, purple marks covering your body, tear filled eyes and uncontrollable noises of pleasure.

so perfect.

it’s all he’s ever wanted.

he grips your waist, pistons in and out to the point you’re screaming. does historia hear that? hears you scream for him, evidence you’re his now. not theirs anymore. they can’t control you anymore, can’t taint what he loves any longer. armin’s the only one for you.

“oh—oh fuck.” you sniff through the tears, bouncing on top of him. that lace bra snug on your chest. you wore it just for him, just cause he asked.

“do you love me?” he pants, grip tightening.

you nod dumbly, without a second thought. “i do...i love you. i love you so much, armin.”

“good.” he smiles. fucking fantastic.

“you belong to me, right? you don’t need them anymore? right?” he practically begs.

you whimper, staying silent a second too long so he angles this next thrust into your sweet spot

causing you to yelp. “y-yes! i’m yours, i don’t need them.” you confirm.

“you don’t need anyone but me.”

“i don’t need anyone but you.” you whine, leaning your head onto his. “and you don’t need anyone but me, r-right?”

what kind of question is that? of course he doesn’t need anyone else. he’s never needed anyone else. if he could burn the entire world down with you two as the only survivors, he would. he wants you to himself, wants you to only have him. forever and always.

“of course.”

[jeonqquk]

permission to date | jjk

pairing | jungkook x reader genre | RICHHHH!JK , crack n then angst jskskdk idk it’s super weird , lame attempts at serious shit wc | 996 words summary | the one where jungkook seemingly forgets the fact that adults could make decisions for themselves notes | the irony of the fact that jk is a richboi in the fic but a prisoner in the header✨aNYways i just had to use this title lmao hope you enjoy btw tags weren’t woking, i’ll check it out tmrw morning first!

feedback is always welcome!

“We don’t need permission to date, Jungkook.”

You exasperatedly sigh, lolling your head back onto the couch and take in a deep breath. Beside you, Jungkook is not as relaxed and fidgets on the soft sofa, playing with his fingers which is a habit of his you’ve grown accustomed to. He did this a lot when he was stressed about something, would shift uncomfortably again and again until you asked him what was bothering him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand.” He turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed and you groan, “I don’t need to, Kook. You’re literally a 23-year-old CEO of your own company and don’t know if you’re allowed to date a girl?”

“It’s not that exactly..”

He nods, hesitantly and you can’t help but find his irrational fear funny. You try to stifle but let out a laugh, and watch as Jungkook widens his eyes, scandalised at the prospect of you finding his dilemma even the slightest bit laughable.

“Oh, this funny to you?” He sneers, although there is no malice present in his tone. You play along, teasingly nod and watch his facial features contort from distressed to cheeky. His lopsided grin and twinkling eyes only serve to prove you right further that he was thinking of something.

And that something could never be any good.

Jungkook moves closer to you on the couch, and you eye him suspiciously, unaware of what was going on in his brain.

“Let me give you something to laugh about.” He doesn't give you any time to digest his words before he’s tackling you to the floor, fingers digging into the flesh of your stomach and he straddles you, restricting your movement.

Jungkook tickles you like there’s no tomorrow, certainly giving you something to laugh about as he totally disregards your pleads to stop and keeps going. “Take that.” He’s unwavering as you try to move him away but the force of your laughter has you backing down, hands moving of their own accord to gt aay from his tactics.

You try to catch your breath between the loud laughs, “Jungkook! Stop i- Stop!” He ignores your words, or rather screams, of protest and continues tickling you with renewed vigour. You’re howling with laughter at this point, soft chuckles that were meant to keep your dignity forgotten, hands desperately trying to push Jungkook’s devilish ones away.

“O-Okay! I’m sorry!” You pant out in between the giggling and he pauses, “What’d you say, baby?” When you don’t respond, too busy catching your breath, he resumes ticking your stomach, laughing himself as you thrash around uselessly in his hold.

“I-I said I’m sorry!” You finally manage to get out, still trying to push him off and he finally relents, getting off you and moving to lie down beside you on the carpeted floor.

Jungkook’s white formal shirt is crumpled, both your hair a mess and you blame none other than the man in front of you for that.

“I hate you.” You turn to face him, breathing heavily and he moves a strand of hair away from your face. You shrug him off, resting sideways on your elbow and ask him, “Still don’t know if you can date me?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/n, you know that.” You nod. Jungkook and you are practically already dating at this point, you do all the couple-y stuff but the only thing left is making it official to the public.

He’s made it pretty clear to you that he wants to be with you. But, you don’t get why he was so afraid of finally revealing it to the media. He’s had his reasons, you guess, but it had been too long and you wanted answers.

“I really want to tell everyone about us, Y/n, I really do. I just don’t know how the public will take it. You know what’s happened to partners’ of other celebrities because of fans and I don’t want that to happen to you as well.”

His words sink in, and you completely agree with his concerns. If you had been in Jungkook’s place, the same worries would have weighed you down. However, he doesn’t need to worry about others’ opinions affecting you. If there’s one thing he should’ve learn about you after being together for almost a year- it’s that you don’t give two flying shits about what others think of you. It’s safe o say that you’re as independent as a woman could be and you want him to know that you’ll be okay even those around you don’t approve of your relationship.

You want his happiness, only. What others thought didn’t matter in the least to you.

But, Jungkook was different.

He was always so self-conscious, always thinking about what others' would like and doing things the right way. He was raised that way, you couldn’t do anything about it. Jungkook had practically been born in gold, having all the luxuries one could dream of right from the day he saw the world.

He had always been in the spotlight, the media always around him looking for juicy stories. Every single thing he did was being kept track of, and that definitely played a part in his current personality.

It was extremely rare for him to talk about his feelings too, so seeing him like this- addressing his worries was a first.

“I know, Kook, but you gotta know that I don’t care about them. I only want you, only want you to be satisfied.” He looks straight at you, dark eyes holding so much emotion in them. “You sure?” He softly questions, hand coming to rest on yours.

“Are you sure, Jungkook? I know how hard this must be for you and-“ You’re cut off by his lips meeting yours, gently moving in sync. He pulls off with a sweet pop.

“I don’t want anything more than to show my girl off to everyone.”

© intokook | absolutely no reposts/modifications/translations of works tolerated.

[lilyofthesword-writes]

The Intern (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki takes an interest in the latest of a long line of Stark’s interns.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (Can be read as platonic, if preferred)

Word Count: 2,809

Disclaimers/Warnings: None. Just a bit of fluff.

A/N: This wound up turning into something entirely different from the original concept. Just kinda went with what felt right. Also trying desperately to remember working with an Arduino board to make this at least semi-accurate.

Masterlist

Loki traipsed aimlessly through the Tower, his overly-friendly insomnia having kept him up past four in the morning again. Nothing seemed to help him sleep and he constantly grew bored laying around in his room waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. Wandering about seemed as good as anything. Sometimes he would come across something interesting. It seems now would be that time.

He rounded the corner and found himself gazing through the wall-length windows of Tony Stark’s lab. The armor-less Iron Man was passed out in a chair, head haphazardly lolling on a table. Usually, he was still working and would be until at least seven a.m. before Pepper would literally drag him to bed.

Movement at the other end of the room caught his eye. There you were, pulling a blanket out of the cupboard. You crossed the lab and placed the well-used cloth over Stark’s shoulders before returning to your work. Sliding your safety glasses on, you put all your focus into soldering some wires to a board.

What in the nine realms were you doing here at this hour? The sun hadn’t even reached the horizon yet. None of his previous interns ever started their days before nine. Albeit, they had barely lasted a week while you broke a record at just over a month, but the point still stood. Why were you here?

“Are you just going to stand there like a creeper, Loki, or are you going to come in and hang out?” you called out, not even bothering to tear your eyes away from the wiring.

Well, this excursion could prove to be interesting. Loki slithered through the doorway to stand opposite of you at your table.

“So what are you doing up this early?” you murmured. If it weren’t for you glancing up at him, someone may have thought it was more of a question for yourself.

Loki huffed a laugh. “I could ask you the same question.”

That elicited a quirky smile from you. “Woke up way before my alarm and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I’d start my day early.” You gestured toward Stark with the soldering iron. “This one over here is pretty lenient on the hours.”

“I would hope so,” Loki chuckled, “considering his own schedule.”

“A schedule that consists of planned energy drink breaks. Definitely one of the more interesting employers out there.”

“I suppose you could say that,” he mumbled, leaning heavily on his forearms propped on the table.

You set down the soldering iron in its stand and shut if off. “So I answered your question. How about you?”

“I simply could not sleep,” he nonchalantly replied.

“Hmm...” you hummed. “Lemme guess. A member of Insomniacs Anonymous?”

His chuckle reverberated through the room. This was probably one of the reasons Stark kept you around. You certainly had a particular snarky confident air about you.

Yet the corners of your mouth suddenly hung low and your brow scrunched together. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?” He was confused at your change in demeanor.

“It’s not as simple as you couldn’t sleep. There’s more to it.”

Loki’s lips parted in astonishment. Here you were in your first true encounter with him and you read him like an open book. What had you been told?

“I won’t make you say anything.” You held your hands up in a placating manner. “You probably don’t want to, and that’s okay. However.” You grabbed the notepad next to you and scribbled something on it, ripping off the paper and sliding it towards him. “If you’re ever bored and I’m not here, you can text me. I’ll probably answer.”

He reluctantly took the note that had your number written on it. “I cannot say I am very adept with these cellular devices.”

“Pretty sure you’re clever enough to figure it out,” you grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “But seriously, no pressure. The offer is always out there.”

“Wha?!” Stark snorted himself awake, his eyes shooting around wildly. “Rudolf? What’re you doing here?” He eyed Loki suspiciously. “You’re not going to scare away my intern, are you? That’s my job.”

You laughed, keeping Loki from spitting a venomous retort. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to try a lot harder if that’s what you’re going for, Stark.”

“Obviously. You haven’t run off yet. I’m surprised.” He took the blanket that was wrapped around him and began folding it. “Pleasantly surprised.”

“Sure, sure!” You waved him off.

Stark looked at his watch and swiped a hand through his purposely messy bed head. “It’s that time already. I better get breakfast before Pepper finds me... Alright!” He clapped. “Both of you, let’s go! Time for grub!”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead. Was Stark actually having him join the two of you for breakfast?

“Yes, you too, Reindeer Games! One, I don’t want you in the lab alone.” That earned him Loki’s scowl. “Two, you seem to be behaving, so why not have you eat with us.”

You nudged Stark’s arm while shooting Loki an inconspicuous wink. “Awww, look at you! Already getting into Dad Mode and little Morgan hasn’t even entered the world yet.”

He nudged you back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Now come on. I’m starving!”

You continued to tease him as you followed him out of the lab with Loki close behind.

Loki lay in bed a few nights later, lost in thought. He could not get you out of his head. You had spoken with him like you would anyone else, deflected and stood up for him despite hardly knowing him. In the few years since he had been thrown to Midgard as punishment, Thor was the only one to show him a sliver of kindness, but even he held some hesitation. You did not. Your earlier interaction was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

In his perpetual deliberation, he had avoided the lab since that morning. Not that he didn’t like you. It was the uncertainty that kept him away, but that wouldn’t last much longer.

His phone settled lax in his hand, your name illuminating the screen. You had been right about him being able to learn how to text. Now it was a matter of completing the action. Tossing the phone to his other hand, he glared at the bright screen. His message had already been written. All he had to do was select “Send”. The clock at the top of the screen read two a.m. Surely, you would be asleep... But what if you weren’t?

With a huff, he pinched his eyes shut and hit the button, the swooshing sound seemingly echoing off the walls. The following silence was deafening. Luckily for him, the reply swoosh fell inline shortly after.

You: Hey, Loki. Can’t sleep?

Loki: How did you know who this was without me saying?

You: I can’t think of anyone else who would text me at this hour. ;)

Loki: I apologize if I woke you.

You: Nah. Already up. Trouble staying asleep. So what’re you up to?

Loki: Texting you.

You: Other than that, Mischief

Loki: Thinking.

You: Yeah? About what?

Loki: Possibly meandering through the Tower, again.

You: Liar ;)

Loki: Pardon?

You: You were obviously thinking about me.

Loki: What makes you say that?

You: You had to be. At least in the context that it would be better to text me than exploring.

Loki: Fair enough. Now, how do you know I am not planning to choose both?

You: You got me there.

—

Loki met you at the lab later that morning. The familiar sight of Stark was passed out, snuggling his face to a countertop, greeted you both.

Shaking your head, you huffed a laugh as you passed through the doorway. “Can’t really reprimand him when my sleep schedule is just as bad.”

Loki’s lips curled into a light smirk but didn’t speak a word lest Stark awaken and force him to leave. Despite your two hour texting session, he had been looking forward to joining you here.

“Thanks for meeting me here, by the way,” you called out to him as still stood just at the edge of the lab. “A little company while working is kind of nice. Gets too quiet when Stark finally shuts down.”

Taking a seat across from you, Loki quirks an eyebrow. “Would that not be considered a blessing?”

You stifled a chuckle as you flipped on the soldering iron and pulled out what roughly looked like a vambrace. The board you had been working on previously was molded to the shape. “If that happened by the end of my workday, yes. This early in the morning? Not so much. It’s boring if not a little eerie.”

“I see... So I am only here for your entertainment,” he feigned offense.

You gasped dramatically, “Me? Never!”

Laughing with you, Loki made himself a bit more comfortable as he watched you work. At the moment, you were adding tiny capacitors and securing them into place.

“If I may, what are you trying to accomplish?”

“Well,” you started, glancing up at him. “It’s a new piece of armor. Other than that, I technically shouldn’t say much else.”

“Right... Classified information?”

There was a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you looked at him again. “It is a secret, but nothing quite as official as that.”

Loki leaned across the tabletop, supporting his chin in his hand. “So there is no harm in you revealing your project,” he tested.

“Harm? No. However, there will be disappointment on my end if you figure it out.”

“I accept this challenge,” he grinned playfully.

You smirked back,“As you wish, Mischief. I won’t make this easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Darling.”

The next several weeks chaotically blurred together. At first, you allowed Loki to observe your project as you worked on it. Once the vambrace began to take on a more unique form, you were hiding it in the mornings, opting to take on a different assignment when he was in the room. The design was strikingly Asgardian, leading him to believe the new armor was for Thor. He just needed to figure out what it did. He spoke with his brother on multiple occasions but was unable to glean anything from him. Either he had no clue or suddenly learned to lie well enough to fool Loki, the latter highly doubtful.

Apart from politely harassing you via text, Loki took to locating your hiding spots, something that proved difficult when the lab was almost always occupied by you, Stark or Banner at varying times. Stark was helping you keep this little secret, a sparkle in his eyes whenever he shooed Loki from the room when he was caught investigating. Even Banner was in on it, albeit reluctantly.

Then there was that Doctor Strange who was showing up every few days, joining you all in the lab much to Loki’s chagrin. By that point, Stark had banned him from the entire floor. The project must have been coming to a close if you all were trying to cover it up so desperately. But why Strange? Was he imbuing the vambrace with magic to protect Thor better? (Not that he really needed it.) His curiosity was certainly getting the better of him, going so far as to shape-shift as one of you three when Strange wasn’t around to get into the room. Somehow, Friday always knew and alerted the lab’s occupants who would send him back to the elevator.

It was early one morning as he was perusing the contents of the shared kitchen that you initiated contact with him. He was surprised since he had been the one to text you first lately to see if you would spill your secret.

You: Hey. Can you stop by the lab?

Loki: Oh? I thought I was banned.

You: Lifted as of a few minutes ago. So?

Loki: I suppose I might be able to grace you with my presence.

You: So kind of you, my King ;)

His heart skipped a beat at you calling him “your King”. You only used it in a teasing fashion when he was acting high and mighty. Even then, it still flustered him.

Loki made his way to the elevator, deeming it a bit devious to take the long way to the lab. You had made him wait all this time. It was your turn.

The doors reopened on the lab floor, revealing that his ploy to annoy had worked. You were leaned against the wall next to the elevator, waiting for his arrival.

“Finally! Come on!”

You audaciously grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the room with an impatient grin. Stopping him near your normal workstation, you demanded he close his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he responded incredulously, ripping his arm from your grasp.

“Please, Loki...” Your pleading eyes grew larger as you pouted at him.

Stark groaned, “Just do it, Reindeer Games, or I’ll cover them for you.”

Loki’s lips reared into a snarl as he glared at the billionaire before relenting and clenching his eyelids shut. Norns, how he hated those nicknames.

“Okay!” Excitement laced your voice. “Would you hold up your dominant hand?”

“Making more demands, Darling?”

“I did ask nicely this time.”

“That you did,” he chuckled a complied, holding out a hand.

“Perfect!”

He felt a metallic weight placed on his forearm before it was clasped together with a comfortable tightness.

“Okay. You can look now!”

The sight of the vambrace on his arm left Loki’s mouth agape. The main black of the piece was lined with gold Asgardian knot designs with runes placed in a handful of the empty spaces. Near his wrist, an artificial emerald was embedded in the armor. If he had to be completely honest, the aesthetics could rival much of the armor back home.

“Well, Kid. It looks like you rendered him speechless.” Stark nudged your arm.

Loki’s gaze shot up to the two of you. Stark was leaning against the workstation while you had hoisted yourself to sit atop it, nothing but grins on either of your faces.

“What is this-”

You cut him off, “It’s for you. We noticed after some of your missions where you had to use your seiðr more than usual, you’d end up exhausted before getting back to the Quinjet. The new armor should help with that. It’s supposed to amplify your magic without draining you.”

Stark shoved you lightheartedly, again. “The kid noticed. Told ‘em if they could come up with something that could work, I’d give whatever resources needed for the project.”

“So what do you think? I mean we still need to undergo more testing and calibrations before you can use it in the field, but-”

“You made this?” Loki locked barely tearing eyes with you. “For me?”

“Yup! Kid designed the whole thing!” Stark kept you from answering. “Minus the bits we had to bring Strange in for the wizard-y things, this was a solo run. Did a pretty good job. Not sure I could have done much better.”

“Stark...” you grumbled, clearly not used to the praise.

“This is...” Loki tore his gaze away back to the vambrace. “I don’t... I don’t know what to say.” His voice was just loud enough for you to hear.

“A ‘thank you’ would be a good start. Now maybe this little intern will get more sleep,” Stark blundered before checking his watch. “Well, it’s about time for my morning scolding. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me!”

With that he whisked himself out of the room and to the elevator, leaving you and Loki in a terribly awkward silence.

“Hey...” you started. “If you don’t like it, we can scrap the design. It’s not a big deal-”

“Thank you.” His pupils were filled with a sincere gratefulness that few had ever seen before. “This is... This is simply splendid.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

Loki spun on his heel to fully face you, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of you. “I mean it, Darling. This... No one has ever done something like this for me before. I would be honored to be your test subject,” he ended with a smirk.

“Well, if that’s the case,” you grinned right back at him, “I’d say let’s get some breakfast first. There will be plenty of time to optimize the vambrace later.”

Pulling back enough to release you from his cage of arms, he gestured for you to lead the way. “After you,” he breathed.

Hopping down from the table, you held out a hand for him. Hesitantly, Loki took it while running a thumb over your knuckles as you pulled him to the elevator with you.