#stairs look wobbly not because they were like that in the photo but because we don't do straight lines in this house. try elsewhere 0:3

[oqueart]

[Image ID: sketch of three women walking down a flight of stairs, from a relatively low point of view. They're positioned in a triangular formation with one in the back and the other two in the front, and each one is looking towards a different direction. End ID]

Album cover vibes for day 19 >:) love the composition

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 1 2 3

Part 3

Title: No Good Deeds. Part 3.

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

This one got a little sad I’m sorry, I’m in my Freddie feels right now 🥀

Arriving at the shop, you noticed that Ron was still not here yet as the shop was in complete blackout except for the window lights which remained on at all times. You pulled out your wand and recited the unlocking spell that Fred had created and personalised, as well as the counter spell for the anti-alohamora charm he'd placed upon the building. You locked the door behind you with a flick of your wand and illuminated the store, making your way straight up to the office. The store looked good and tidy, though you did notice during your ascent up the stairs that there were a few stock items that needed replenishing, something you could do once you'd set up everything in the back.

Around half an hour later, Ron burst through the office door, calling for George and immediately froze upon seeing you sat there at his brother's desk.

"Oh, thought it was George this morning," he says, running his hand over the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed at barging in.

"He had some stuff to sort this morning, said I'd cover for him," you explained with a little shrug, grabbing the floats from the safe and the morning banking book.

"Oh right, yeah okay," Ron says, following behind you as you walk down the stairs. "Think he's got a secret girlfriend?"

Ron's words make you momentarily freeze, having not expected him to say that.

"Don't know Ronald," you said with another shrug and a smile, "but if Percy can get a girlfriend then George definitely can." Ron laughs with a nod and helped you set up the shop as you work together, laughing and joking like usual. He tries to pry into George's love life a little more, assuming that you know more than he does but you successfully manage to deflect his questions, hopefully without any suspicion.

You winced as the stones of your engagement ring caught the palm of your hand for the third time since you'd been restocking the shelves and looked down to see a little imprint of the outline cut into your hand. You sighed, checking around you to see where Ron was before walking up towards the office and turning left instead, towards the flat. Approaching the wooden door, you took a deep breath in and tried to gather your courage, suddenly feeling emotional and overwhelmed at returning to the flat you'd once known so well, dreading stepping through the door.

You huffed out a breathe and opened the handle, immediately greeted by the dark corridor that wrapped around the flat. You walked past the closet and then past what used to be Fred's bedroom, pausing only briefly to touch the doorframe as you felt your lip wobble, tears threatening your eyes. You shook them away and carried on walking towards George's room, looking for something specific that you knew he had, hoping he wouldn't mind you borrowing it.

You felt uncomfortable intruding like this, but it was the only solution you could think of. You stepped through the door and found the room to be much neater than you imagined, with only a few pieces of clothing and ties strewn on the floor in the otherwise rather tidy bedroom. You walked over to his dresser, seeing his leather watch box on top and raised the lid. Immediately you were met with a photo of you, George and Fred in your fifth year, building a snowman in the courtyard at Hogwarts. You all looked so young and happy, dressed in layer upon layer of warm clothes topped with coats and hats as you beamed at the camera, Fred's arm wrapped around you and George holding onto your shoulder, each one of you proud of the enchanted snowman you'd created. A tear leaked out of your eye and you bit your lip to try and prevent anymore from falling as you quickly wiped it away, unable to take your eyes of Fred's infectious smile. You placed the photo down onto the lid and reached to grab a silver chain that was beside the watch that his parents had given him for his 17th birthday, the same watch that sat beside an identical one in the box. You'd bought both of them a chain for their 17th birthday with a little engraved pendant attached that you had customised. The engraving was a 'w' sign with a little star at the top, the very same sign that would become the logo for the shop. Fred was buried in his chain, having never taken it off, but you noticed that George hadn't worn his much in the past few years, which you understood. You took out the chain and slipped the engagement ring through it before securing it around your neck and tucking it underneath your shirt. The last thing you wanted was to lose the ring and this was the only way you could keep it safe whilst you were at work, knowing you'd be panicking if it was in your pocket all day and you vowed to keep it at home tomorrow. You closed the lid of the watch box, casting one last glance at the photo before walking out of the flat and back down to the shop. Ron was none the wiser and you carried on restocking the love potions, no longer hurting from the ring, as Ron grabbed the skiving snackboxes in preparation for you opening the store.

You briefly thought of George as you wiped down the counter, wondering if the furniture had been delivered yet and what he was doing at home before a knock at the front door dragged you out of your musings. Verity had arrived for her shift and you let her in with a wave of your wand, greeting her before disappearing into the office for one last check over the inventory books before the shop opened.

"Morning stranger," you heard a voice say a little later as you deposited some cash into the safe. You turned around and saw George leaning on the door frame, arms crossed with a smirk on his lips, looking well rested and quite frankly, very handsome in his suit and burgundy shirt.

"Morning Georgie," you smiled, locking the safe and turning to face him completely.

"You ran off this morning," he teases, stepping forward to sit next to you on the desk, his long legs leaning beside you.

"I left a note," you countered in a mock-argument, giving him a wicked smile. He chuckles and nods, his eyes flicking over you.

"Did everything come okay? Didn't expect you in yet."

"All set up," he says with a nod before frowning gently, his mouth opening and closing twice before he says the next part, "look about last night, I'm sorry if-"

"Georgie," you said, moving to stand and place your hand on his chest to stop him. "I offered."

"Yeah not for me to sleep with-

"It's fine, actually it was nice to sleep beside someone again," you said honestly, the image of Fred's smiling face from the photograph filling your mind as you thought of the only person you'd ever shared a bed with. "Except for the snoring, that I could do without," you joked. He immediately grabbed you and pulled you into him as you let out a little squeal at the sensation of his beginning to tickle you.

"Snoring!?" He repeats with a shout, trying to look outraged but the grin on his face told you that he was far from angry. "How rude Mrs Weasley," he jokes, stopping the tickling but still keeping his hands on your waist. His eyes flick down to your left hand and his brows knit together momentarily as you follow his train of thought.

"Couldn't let Ron see it yet," you said as you both looked at your left ring finger, "I have to confess something though."

"Don't say you've lost it already," George says with a small, goading smirk which transforms into a laugh as you hit him on the chest for the little dig.

"No I haven't lost it," you say with a huff before reaching down into your shirt and pulling out the chain that sits around your neck, the ring hanging off of it like a pendant, knowing he'd recognise it instantly, "had to borrow this from you, is that okay? Please don't be mad, I tried to put the ring on my other hand but it kept digging in and it cut me and."

George immediately stops your babbling by pressing his lips to yours, a move that shocks you to your core as you stand there frozen, feeling his soft lips on yours. The kiss lasts no more than a few seconds but you can't help but stay perfectly still, more than surprised by his actions, your eyes slowly fluttering open after instinctively closing as he leaned in. George pulls away and looks at you with equal amounts of surprise, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done too. His shocked expression drops from his face after a few moments as he draws in a breath before explaining, never taking his eyes off his chain around your neck.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think of any other way to stop you rambling," he says with a small tilt of teasing in his voice before his gaze flicks up to look directly into your eyes, a soft look on his features. "I don't mind, looks good on you."

He strokes your arm as he pulls away and without any other words, he walks through the office door and down the stairs, leaving you utterly bamboozled as you stare at the spot where George had just been. George just kissed you. George Weasley had just kissed you.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, with paperwork and inventory checks needing your attention and taking up most of your time. You'd run into George a few times over the course of the day and each and every time you had felt his eyes on you before you even knew he was there. The look in his eyes was unfamiliar to you, like he was deep in thought or concentration but it only seemed to be when he caught sight of you which was strange. At one point he had winked at you as you walked through the store after grabbing some lunch for the both of you and it made you feel giddy and restless as there had seemed to be a shift in your dynamic since the kiss.

After your last inventory check was done and recorded in the files, you stepped out onto the shopfloor at 10 minutes before close to ask George about what he wanted for dinner tonight but you stopped short when you saw him laughing with an unfamiliar woman next to the till. They were stood pretty close together and she was laughing at something George was saying as he chuckled along, looking fairly animated in his reply. Your eyes rolled when you saw her laugh and reach out to touch his arm, a move you'd seen over and over again in all those tragic muggle romantic comedies that Hermione had made you endure over the years. You couldn't deny that your stomach sank at seeing the scene before you, George and the pretty woman flirting openly in the near empty shop, especially after he kissed you earlier in the day. You considered just backing away and pretending that you'd not seen what you had but that plan was immediately rendered impossible when you heard your name called out by a very familiar voice. George.

He waved his hand at you, gesturing for you to join them and you willed your feet to move across the floor, trying to force a smile onto your face though inside you were a maelstrom of hurt and rage.

"This is her, y/n," George says, introducing you as you approach them, placing his hand onto your waist as you stand next to him. "She came up with these, bloody brilliant actually," George says, holding out the familiar packaging of the weather in a bottle product you'd created together in your sixth year. "Excellent diversion tactic or just a harmless prank if preferred, a rain cloud will actually follow the receiver around and it creates no mess, except for the unsuspecting victim, they'll be wet through."

Usually, George's praise would have made you blush, especially as his hand held your waist so openly, but in the current circumstance you just felt enraged. The woman he was chatting with had pulled away from him and clearly had a face like thunder at your interruption, though she tried to mask it around George.

"It seems your employees are very talented," she says with a tight lipped smile that certainly didn't reach her eyes. You didn't miss the inflection on the word 'employees' and it pained you not to roll your eyes at her purposeful goading. You shot her a sarcastic smile in return before looking around for Ron but you couldn't see him.

"Employee?" George says questioningly before looking down at you, pulling you in slightly, "my fiancée." You froze, feeling suddenly on the spot at you tried to search for any sign of Ron or Verity in hearing distance but there was no one else around.

The woman seemed to baulk at the new information and all pretence of a smile dropped from her face. She suddenly made up some excuse about having to collect something from Flourish and Botts and quickly hustled out of the store, leaving you and George alone.

You snorted as you watched her exit, "should rename the shop 'Weasleys' Wizard Whizzes, with how fast she just ran out."

George barked out a laugh before checking his watch and flourishing his wand, effectively closing and locking the door. He nudges you with his hip as he squeezes past to get to the tills, opening up the first one that Verity had manned for most of her shift.

"So fiancé Eh?" You said quietly, moving around to the second till to begin cashing it up just as George had with the first one. George gives you a little look as he counts the sickles before jotting down the total on the little piece of parchment beside the till.

"Only one more day before we tell mum, might as well start the rumours," George says with a knowing smirk. The mention of telling Molly made your stomach lurch and it was all you could think of as you counted each galleon, knut and sickle in the till.

"You ready my beloved?" George asks jokingly, reaching for your hand as he puts the last of the cash in the safe.

"What about the accounts?" You ask, looking through the inventory receipts laid out on your desk.

"They can wait till morning, I'm starving, let's go home," George says, taking your hand and begins leading you down the stairs. His use of 'home' gave you a warm, fluttery feeling that made a goofy smile want to cross across your lips, knowing that he meant both of you.

You walked out of the shop and George turned out the lights and locked up with his wand before placing it into his suit jacket pocket, never once letting go of your hand as you walked around to the back of the store and apparated back to your flat.

As soon as you made it back, you walked into your bedroom and threw off your bra just as you did everyday, followed by your socks and jeans, changing into your loungewear straight away. You threw on a big cardigan and walked back out to see George in the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

"Made you a cup of tea Angel," he says with an absent nod of his head as he peruses the ingredients.

"Thank you!" You gush, elated at the prospect of having a warm cup of tea, "I knew there was a reason I'm marrying you," you joked.

George huffed mockingly, closing the fridge as he turns to face you. He'd taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves and you couldn't deny how good he looked right at that moment.

"Not my movie star good looks? Towering height? Flaming red hair?" He jokes, stepping closer to you.

"Hmmm," you pretend to think, dramatically tapping your chin, "no it's definitely the tea."

"Remind me why I'm marrying you again?" He teases, reaching behind you to grab his drink.

"I'd say my impeccable sense of humour and sharp whit but we both know it's for a savvy business move," you replied with a sarcastic grin that falls from your face as you watch George's face sink. He recovers quickly but you definitely saw the stricken expression on his face and you immediately regret your words, though you were of course only stating facts.

You start tea as George nips in the shower and as the rice begins to boil and the chicken comes out of the oven, the kitchen heats up exponentially and you have to take off your cardigan due to the heat, casting it to the wind to land somewhere on the sofa behind you. Just as you reached for the jar of sauce from the cupboard, you saw the bottles of daisyroot draught you'd bought for George a few days ago and pulled it out for him before adding the sauce to the chicken.

"Georgie, I got you some daisyroot, if you want it," you said, turning to face him as you stir the bubbling pan. He's wearing his pyjama bottoms and a black T-shirt as he rubs his hair with the towel, walking barefoot into the kitchen. He opens his mouth to reply but he seems to briefly pause, focusing intently on something around you before snapping out of it a few moments later, looking bashful.

"Great, yeah great, thank you," he stammered, stuttering through his words as he avoided eye contact with you and walked past you to grab a glass from the top shelf. You frowned at his peculiar behaviour but decided not to question in, realising that it might be an adjustment thing from him moving in with you, after all the only person he'd ever lived with as an adult was Fred. Perhaps you shouldn't have bought him the daisyroot, thinking that somehow you might have overstepped.

"Tea's nearly ready," you say, perhaps a little delicately in hopes that you wouldn't upset him but his reaction is normal so you try to put it out of your mind, putting it down to a bad turn.

"This is amazing Angel," George says, taking huge forkfuls of the chicken curry and rice you'd haphazardly thrown together. You smile appreciatively at him and scoop up some of your own food, admittedly taking much smaller bites than George. "So, you ready to tell Mum tomorrow?"

Your eyes shoot up to his with a glare, seeing him smirking at you and you roll your eyes, feeling a lump in your throat and nerves at the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah can't wait," you mutter sarcastically, already anticipating what could happen in your mind, picturing her utter elation, or her outrage.

"You know she'll be happy right?" George says, scooping up another forkful of rice.

"You think we can actually convince them?" You ask, changing the direction of the conversation slightly, not realising how much that question had been playing on your mind. George is quiet for a minute as he considers his answer, taking a sip of the daisyroot before picking up his fork again.

"Don't see why not," he says with a little shrug before turning to look at you with a little smile, "not exactly unheard of is it? Falling for your best friend."

George's words make your stomach flip and roil in numerous ways, the smile on his face only furthering those complicated feelings within you.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to act neutral as you absently eat your food, though you couldn't deny that your appetite had waned dramatically from the topic of conversation. "So, do I wear the ring tomorrow or do I put it on after work?"

"Whatever you want Angel," George says, reaching for his glass again, "Ron's off tomorrow and I doubt Verity would notice anything even directly under her nose, it's just you and me." When you don't reply, silently considering your options, George leans over and grabs your hand on the table, stroking where your engagement ring should be. "Keep in on my chain tomorrow, around your neck and then put it on before we get back to mum's," he suggests, a softness to his voice that made it seem like a hopeful request. You nod and smile at him, still feeling a little conflicted as you tuck into the rest of your meal.

When you climb into bed later that night, your thoughts are consumed by your situation, of your impending engagement and your future after that. Truthfully, you hadn't taken much time to process everything since that first initial day, getting caught up in George moving in and all the things that came along with that. You were already anxious at returning to the Burrow tomorrow, having only been back a handful of times since the war, once for Harry and Ginny's engagement party and a few other dinners that never quite felt the same as before, like something obvious was missing, as it always was these days. Your thoughts were plagued with what ifs and nervous thoughts of what lies after but mostly all you could think of was Fred.

You had to remind yourself that you were doing this for George and for Fred's memory, to keep the business exactly as it had been created, to honour Fred. They were your oldest friends, your best friends and you'd give anything for them to succeed and to be happy and if that meant sacrificing your own life and happiness temporarily, then you'd do it in a heartbeat, regardless of the emotional strain.

You felt shame at lying to the people that had become your second family, that had housed you and welcomed you into their home like one of their own. You felt sad that you were holding back George from finding someone and even more conflicted that the idea of George finding someone else caused you to hurt in ways you couldn't explain. And most of all, you felt immeasurable guilt at your arrangement with George, namely because it felt like you were disrespecting Fred. Moving on, even though you were never officially together, seemed to imply that you had chosen George over him, that you could be so selfish and heartless that you'd marry his twin brother after his death, casting all of your memories away and rendering them insignificant. In your heart, you knew Fred wouldn't see it that way and he'd be proud of you for doing what you were doing for his and George's sake, though your mind wouldn't listen to a word of that, instead choosing to attack you.

As soon as the idea crossed your mind, you pulled back your covers and hauled yourself out of bed to crouch on the floor, reaching for a large shoebox that was stored under your bed, filled with your most treasured items. The top of the box had scribbles all over it in both in pencil and quill ink, with writings and drawings of Weasley products all over in a mixture of yours and the twins' handwriting. You sat and chuckled at the difference between everyone's writing; yours was the neatest and most consistent with cursive tails and joined letters. George's writing was small and a little 'curly', though it was quite neat for a boy's writing. Fred's writing however, fluctuated between indecipherable scribblings and various levels of darkness as if he's taken too much ink on the quill. You ran your fingers over the markings, smiling to yourself, before opening the lid to the shoebox. You didn't do this often, only when you needed to feel him, to be surrounded by memories, like right now.

You pulled out a stack of photos front the top, some magical and some not, seeing you, George and Fred at various ages and places during your Hogwarts years. You looked through them with fondness before coming across a photo of you and Fred at the Yule Ball in your sixth year, both of you dressed in your fanciest clothes. Fred's rust coloured waistcoat matches his vibrant, long hair perfectly and you looked at the photo carefully, thinking of how handsome he looked. Memories of dancing and laughing through the night entered your mind, both with Fred and George after George had stolen you away for a dance when Fred had stepped out to get drinks. Fred had walked straight up to the pair of you pretending to be angry and had tried to steal you back, both of them never missing a step of the waltz choreography as you were passed back and forth between the brothers, their matching red hair just a blur as you spun around.

You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and steamed down your cheeks as you looked at the photo of Fred, trying to remember every little detail about him, the scar on his eyebrow and the light freckles on his cheeks, his smell and his laughter. You put down the photos and picked up the button that was underneath the stack, one of the buttons from your dress that night that Fred had unceremoniously ripped off of you, this singular button popping off and rolling underneath his bed, only for you to find it two months later. You placed the button down onto the photos and pulled out a stack of letters that you'd saved, some from Fred and some from George, not feeling strong enough to be able to read them at the moment.

Just as you pulled out a little stuffed toy of a Niffler that Fred had bought you in your third year and cuddled it into your chest, there was a gentle knock at the door. You called out for George to come in, trying to stash the things away before he could see them and get upset as well as quickly wiping away your tears before looking up to him.

Whatever he wanted from you disappeared the second he saw your tear strained face, crouched over a box he recognised immediately.

"Angel," he says quietly, which only makes more tears fall. He moves like lightning over to you and immediately wraps his arms around you, sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace so that you were near enough sat in his lap. He holds you, rocking gently as you cry, no longer seeing any reason to hold back your emotions.

"Your T-shirt's all wet," you say in a weak, apologetic voice with a sniffle a few minutes later, pulling away from him slightly. "I'm so sorry, it's not fair of me to do this with you," you say, noticing that his own tears are working their way down his face.

"Not fair? What do you mean?" He says gently, allowing you to pull away but not completely, keeping a comforting hand on you.

"He was your brother, your twin, I-"

"Enough of that," he says with a shake of his head, reaching down to wipe away a tear under your eye, "he meant everything to both of us."

His words make you want to cry all over again but you don't, trying to stay calm as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. His hand strokes your back as you try and calm your breathing, feeling a little embarrassed by your outburst after you'd got it all out of your system.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't considered how hard this must be for you, you and Fred were together for-."

"It doesn't matter," you say, cutting off George, not wanting to explain that you were never really together, "it's not that, not really, I just really needed him."

George gives you a single nod that holds all the weight of understanding, clearly knowing exactly how you felt.

"I remember this," George chuckles, pulling something out of the box delicately. It was a piece of parchment with the ingredients for the ageing potion you'd found in an old potions book that the twins had used to try and enter their names into the triwizard tournament. You'd warned them that it wouldn't work against Dumbledore's age line but they hadn't listened. Attached to the sheet of parchment with an old paper clip was a photo you'd taken of the twins in the infirmary, both of them sporting wild white hair and beards, including bushy eyebrows, their arms around each other with cheesy smiles.

You watched as George reached down to touch an old, faded T-shirt of Fred's that was tucked down into the bottom of the box, an old quidditch T-shirt that had outgrown him by his third year, golden thread stitching up a hole in the collar and another smaller one on the seam of the sleeve. You wore it to bed nearly every night for years, the softness and the smell always so comforting to you.

George's fingers ran across the Gryffindor logo for a moment before catching sight of a keyring he'd bought you from the Quidditch World Cup, the green shamrock dangling from the binder ring, the Ireland logo on the back a little scratched up now but the green, white and orange colours were still as vibrant as ever.

"I bought you this," he said with a smile, placing it into his hand as he inspected it. You nodded eagerly, remembering it clearly. You'd painted the boys faces before leaving the tent with the face paint you'd taken with you and when they'd been to look at the merchandise with the limited money they had, they'd both returned with matching green and white scarves, Fred decked out in an obscenely large hat and George had nervously held out his hand to you, passing you the keyring as he moved you to stand between the twins.

"Knew you would want a momento from the trip but I didn't think you'd appreciate one of those hats like Fred and Ginny had," he says, a fondness in his eyes as he looks at the metal keyring.

"I used it everyday for five years," you said, giving him a little smile. "I caught it on the door one day and I thought I broke it, had to reattach the shamrock and then I switched it out, it means too much to me to get broken or lost."

George looks up at you with emotion filled eyes, a look shared between you both that held so much depth that it stole your breath for a few moments.

"Feels like another lifetime," George says after a few minutes of silence. You made a noise of agreement, flicking your eyes down to look at the box filled with distant memories that were now bittersweet and a little twisted.

"You're wrong, you know."

George looks up at you with a puzzled frown, confused by your words. You breathe out a puff of laughter and smile at him, reaching for the hand that wasn't holding the keyring.

"Fred isn't the only one who means everything to me."

Your words seem to affect George in a way that you hadn't anticipated as a tear comes to his eye, his hand tightening around yours before he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. You hug him back without question, feeling his soft (and now dry) T-shirt against your skin, his arms around you and the comforting smell of his hair and skin taking over your senses.

He pulls away ever so slightly and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you again, his face so close to yours but he doesn't, slowly releasing you from his hold until you climbed off of him, a little disappointed.

"Right, enough mushy shit, we need a plan, for telling your family," you say, standing up and pulling your pyjamas back into place.

"That was what I came to tell you," George says, moving to stand as well as you bent down to slide the box back under your bed. You turned around and looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate. "Mum sent an owl, said something about a gnome infestation, apparently they're vicious this time of year, dad's been bitten twice just walking to the car."

"Oh."

"I was thinking we could meet them at the leaky cauldron or get a meal out? We'll need to tell them soon," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Invite them over! I can cook, might need to leave work early to prep everything though," you reply, trying to save the plans you'd made.

"Really? You don't have to but,"

"They need to believe we're really together, what better way then to show them that we're living together," you say before reaching a bump in the road, "your stuff will probably need to move in here though, can't have it look like we're sleeping separately, we're not exactly priests."

George nods, following along with your train of thought. "I could bring more of my stuff over? Litter it about, just for a couple of days?"

You shrug in reply, "I don't mind."

"I'll write to mum now and offer them to come here, take the day off tomorrow, then you won't be rushing around, like I know you will," he says with a knowing smirk that you roll your eyes at.

"But you'll be on your own."

"I'll send Ron an owl."

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[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eighteen (Part 2)

There are no family photos on the walls of this house, which is entirely different to my home. My mother framed everything, because I was the only child, and therefore everything I did and every milestone I achieved was wonderful and amazing. There’s a photo of me, eight and smiling on the day of my first communion that has pride of place on the mantelpiece next to my parents wedding photos, as though my first reception of the body of Christ (a wafer) was as important as their vow to each other. I was cute back then, but it’s easy to track my progression from cute child to awkward teenager by simply following the path of photos on the wall above the television, where I am immortalised forever in my school uniform, picture day after picture day, year after year until they mercifully stopped taking them at the end of primary school and I was free to duck away and hide my braces and acne from any and all cameras.

There are no such records in the Turner house. There are no notches on the door frames that measured the growth of the children, no ancient crayon drawings still stuck to the fridge, or, for the extra special ones, framed on the wall where visitors can see them. There’s no sad, punctured football in the back garden, or Ribena stain on the carpet, and I can’t see what’s inside the cupboard under the stairs, but I guarantee there’s no outsized roller skates or fad toy from Christmas 2002 stuffed in there either. This house is like somebody opened an interior design magazine and bought everything on the page.

Jude climbs on a chair to reach a box, way up high on the very top of a bookcase.  He settles next to me on the sofa and lifts the lid without any of the reverence or intentionality I feel it deserves, and hauls out a handful of photographs. 

“There are before me.” He says, and I don’t care about those ones. His mother is very beautiful, and when she’s young even more so, but Collette Turner is of about as much interest to me as I am to her. When he hands them to me I just leave them on the coffee table and poke my fingers around in the box with him until we find the ones from November 1991. 

“There I am.” He says, and rightly so, there he is. A tiny baby screaming in his mother’s arms as she, looking like a child herself stares bemusedly down at the pink, squirming thing in her arms. “Apparently all I did was make noise.” He says. “Nothing has changed there. I also wasn’t cute.”

“You weren’t.” I agree, but I like the photo anyway. Even in these first minutes of his life there’s something furious and uncompromising about him, all clenched fists and red face. He’s so tiny. My heart swells for him. 

“I did get cute though.” He says, putting another photo into my hands of him at maybe two years old, wearing nothing but a nappy and a pair of cowboy boots. He’s standing on wobbly little legs on some dirt path, while sandstone pillars and jagged rock formations soar up into the sky behind him. It’s the kind of landscape that you only see in cartoons. 

“Did you see the road runner when you were there?” I deadpan. 

He smirks. “That’s Bryce Canyon. My great aunt brought me along on a trip with her kids. I think I was two.” He flips it over to where Sept. ‘93 is scrawled in blue biro. “Almost two. Her kids were in college at that point. I think there’s photos of us all.” He has a quick shuffle through the stack and withdraws several more from Utah, mostly of him being held, or cuddled or kissed on his chubby cheeks by four twenty somethings who look like extras from Seinfeld. Looking at their faces, their patterned jumpers, their floppy haircuts brings back a sense-memory of what it felt like to exist in the nineties. That pervasive smell of cigarettes and the old, brown plastic ashtray on my uncle’s table. The cuffs of light wash jeans and the creases in my cousin’s white sneakers as I tied and untied his shoelaces beneath the kitchen table, and Paul Simon’s Obvious Child, and our old TV that spit out white noise and wobbled until someone banged it with their fist to set it right again. I feel as affectionate towards those snippets of memory as I do about this tiny, cowboy boot wearing Jude, perched high on his cousin’s shoulders.

“Is that your great aunt?” I wonder, pointing to a ruddy cheeked woman in her early forties that crouches down with her arms around him at the base of a sandstone pillar. 

“Yes, Maureen.” he’s mentioned her before in passing. I know that her husband was in the military, and that they lived all over the world for years. When he retired they settled in New Mexico, and she and her family were in the picture a lot when Jude was a child.

“When’s the last time you saw her?” 

“When I was fifteen, but it’s not always easy to find the time anymore. She calls me every Christmas and on my birthday, and sometimes she sends me gifts.” He brushes his thumb thoughtfully over the photo. “You know, I miss her. She was kind of like my other-mother for a while.”

“Maybe you should go and visit again.”

“Yeah, I’d really like to.” He digs through the box and pulls out a more recent one of them both from 2007. They’re standing in her kitchen with their arms around each other, and she’s short and round, and he’s so tall and gangly with a wooden beaded necklace on, and they both have the biggest smiles. “Maybe I’ll go in the autumn.”

“Definitely! I think that’d be amazing.”

“It’s just weird because it’s hard to know where I’m going to be then, you know? Now that I’m graduating from college I’ll have to, like, look for a job.” He says it like it’s a dirty word, and there is the tiniest twinge of anxiety in my belly.

“Something will work out.” I say passively. I’ve tried not to think about what’s going to happen after college, and whether or not he’ll decide to move back to Ireland again once he finishes his final project. We’ve just avoided the conversation, even though sometimes during our long talks we bring us right up to the knife’s edge of it before we stealthily change the subject, but I soon have to acknowledge the elephant in the room, and it’s that we don’t know where he’ll be in six months. We don’t know what things might look like between us, and neither of us knows yet what he wants. 

“Yeah, definitely.” He says hopefully, and I take the photo of him and Maureen so that I can take a closer look. 

“2007.” I murmur. “You were so dreamy. I wish you’d seen what I looked like in 2007, it’d be like a jump scare.”

He chuckles. “No way, Evie.”

“I had cystic acne and braces,” I confess. “I was so ugly.”

“You haven’t even brushed up against ugly in your entire life. And I had braces once too, believe it or not.”

“Oh I’d believe it.” I feast myself on the view of his immaculate teeth. “Did your dad do that?”

“He did, and funny you should mention him, because he’ll probably be home soon. Do you want to endure an awkward, socially inept conversation with him or do you want me to take you home?”

“Oof, tough choice.” 

Jude takes all of the photos from my lap and from the table and taps them gently into formation before stacking them back into the box where they’ll no doubt sit there unbothered for another few months or years, dusty and forgotten atop the bookcase. 

“Let’s get moving.” 

Jude’s car idles outside my apartment for half an hour, because every time I try to get out I look over my shoulder at him and feel compelled to kiss him goodbye, just one more time. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re a great kisser.” I say as his lips slide from my mouth to the curve of my jaw, and his fingers caress the nape of my neck. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Back of my hand.” He murmurs. “Glad you’ve noticed, I’ve actually never kissed a girl before.”

“Oh shut up.” I snicker. 

“You know, if you think I’m good with my mouth you should see what else I can do with it.”

I breathe out a laugh, and my body shivers so intensely from head to toe that I have to twist out of his grip. This is full-on dirty talk. I don’t know how to do that. I should probably give him a slow, seductive smile and say something like “Well why don’t you come upstairs and show me?” But I obviously don’t. I say “Oh.” and then laugh way too loudly which completely dissolves the sexual vibe and he goes from looking flirtatious to amused. “What?”

“I mean, you can come in if you like, I know I owe you one but full disclosure I haven’t shaved in days.”

“Are you trying to lure me in with handjobs and hairy legs?”

“Feeling enticed?”

“You bet.”

I lean back against the passenger door and wrap my arms around myself. “Well, whatever you want to do is fine.”

His expression is funny as he takes me in, my body language, the metre of space I’ve managed to carve between us, and his eyebrow twitches sceptically. “I don’t want things that you don’t. You know that?”

I nod. 

“When you want me to come in, I’ll come in, but you don’t have to do things for me just because you think you owe me.”

“I will want to.” I say. “Just later.”

“Well lucky for you I’m busy the next while. I’m in the last weeks of my thesis and I really need to buckle down, so if we’re fooling around it will probably not do wonders for my concentration.”

I pout. “But I’ll still see you?”

“Of course, I’ll always make time for you.” He pulls me into him by my wrists and kisses me one last time, and I’m starting to  wonder how I’ll ever be expected to kiss another man again when he pulls away from me. “It’s time for you to get out of my car. I’m wasting diesel.” He teasingly shoves me away and I scramble for the handle and scurry out onto dark streets wet with rain as he springs forward to smack my arse.  

“Later, alligator.” He says, and I shut the door behind me with a thunk. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[finelinevogue]

Just watched a video of this baby having a meltdown after seeing his parents wedding picture because he “wasn’t invited” and I am on my knees 🧎‍♀️begging you to please write something about this because it would be the absolute most adorable thing 🥺 you absolutely do not have to though if you don’t want to, just thought it’d be such a cute concept and if anyone could do it justice it’d be you 🥰

-🫶

ahahaha omg this would be sooo cute okay okay;

January 5th 2027

Violent sobs escaped Hazel's chest.

You had been showing her some photo albums, wanting her to see all her past birthday photos. There were loads from when she was one years old, that of course she didn't remember, where she had cried the whole party for literally no reason.

There were a few albums on the shelf which contained photos of you and Harry, rather than photos of Hazel, but she wanted to see them anyways.

You did not expect the activity to end in tears.

"That daddy?" Hazel pointed to Harry, who was dressed in hi 'Fine Line' outfit for the album cover shoots.

"Yes baby, that's daddy."

"I have that outfit." She said, looking up at you for gratification that she had remembered correctly.

"Yes, good job. It was for your 'dress up as your favourite hero' in school day, wasn't it?"

"And daddy is my hero." She nodded and giggled.

You had arranged with Harry Lambert to have her outfit made, without your Harry's knowledge. It had been a surprise on the day when she walked down the stairs in tiny white trousers and a silk pink shirt, along with the pink suspenders and black boots. She looked amazing and Harry couldn't help but cry when he saw his mini-me. He even went and got changed into his own 'Fine Line' outfit so they could have some photos together.

You still have those photos set as your lock and home screen

A few photos showed you and Harry on various dates. There were a couple from a charity ball that you attended.

"You look like a princess, mummy." Hazel commented and it made you pout with admiration.

"Thank you Haze. Do you want to see mummy's wedding dress?" You gasped, thinking that if she loved your ball dress than she'd better love on your wedding dress.

It had been a collaborative dress between Gucci and your mum. Gucci had made the basics of the dress, fitting it to your body perfectly, but your mum had added on all of the delicate lace and decorative flowers herself. It had taken her over 72 hours of labour, but she wouldn't have traded it for the world.

The dress became so hyped that people started requesting similar dresses for their own weddings, which is now how your mum has managed to set up her own business for clothes making. She absolutely loves it. Harry is a huge fan of her work and often goes to her for his formal outfits now, paying her far more than he would have to pay at Gucci just because he loves her work that much.

"You had a wedding?" She furrowed her eyebrows at you and you didn't know where the sudden change of emotion came from.

"Yes, with daddy." You said, flicking further on in the album to get towards the start of your wedding photos. "See, there we are."

You smiled as you looked back at some of the happiest memories in your life. The way you felt on that day was one of the greatest experiences of your life.

Whilst you were smiling you didn't realise your 3-year old had started crying until you felt her body shake beside you. You turned to see her bottom lip was wobbling and she had streams of tears falling from her eyes. Only when you started speaking to her did her wails become more obvious.

"Hey, baby. What's wrong? Are y'hurt?" You asked quickly, scanning over her small body to see if anything was wrong.

When she didn't respond and kept on crying you tried to pull her into your arms, but she refused. She kicked up a fuss and tried to clamber away from you.

"No, mummy! NO!" She shouted and climbed down from the sofa, before running away outside and towards her playhouse.

Harry had been gardening outside and was stunned when he saw his daughter run past crying. She shut the door of her playhouse behind her and Harry quickly stood up from bedding some plants so he could go see her.

Before he opened the door he knocked.

"No!" She screamed again, her body still racking away with sobs.

You had slipped on some old shoes to walk outside, walking over to where Harry was crouched down outside the door. When he heard you coming his head shot around to you and you could see the concern built up within his eyes.

"Did you know she was like this?" Harry asked you, standing up to greet you.

"Yeah. We were just looking through old photo albums and then I showed her our wedding photos and she burst out crying." You said softly, not wanting to speak in a panicked tone in case it made Hazel more upset. Hazel hated knowing she made you upset, but sometimes she couldn't help it.

"It's okay. It's not your fault, y'know that?" Harry double checked with you and for once you knew that it wasn't your fault.

"I know."

"Let's try talk to her again." He took your hand and you both crouched down outside her playhouse again. Harry knocked on the door three times, but there was no answer. He tried again.

"No daddy!" Hazel shouted again.

"Hazel Mae, if you don't open the door for me right now I'm going to come in myself. I just want to know what's making you sad, baby." He sternly told her off, but only because he loved and worried about her so much.

"You're making me sad." She said through a sob.

"Well then come out here so you can tell daddy off and then I'll see how I can apologise. Hmm?" It was like he'd been a dad for fifty years with how wonderful he was with your daughter.

Instead of responding, Hazel opened the door and rubbed her eyes. It was a known fact that she got heavily tired after having a breakdown, just as you did. You both knew though that you had to speak to her about her behaviour before she fell asleep though. Her eyes were puffy and distressed, whilst her lips were still tight in a pout.

"Come here, please." Harry spoke very softly, opening his arms out for her to come to him first.

She walked over to him and used her small arms to best wrap themselves around Harry's body. Harry hummed in delight when she hugged him back, feeling like he was slowly getting through to her. He kissed the side of her head a few times, before pulling her back from their little squeeze.

"Y'gonna hug mummy too?"

"Okay." She nodded and walked to where you were kneeling on the grass. You opened your arms out for her and gave her the sweetest hug, feeling so much better that she was calm in your arms. You hated seeing her cry.

"Kissy?" You asked and pouted your lips for her. Hazel leant in to give your lips a quick kiss, before collapsing her little legs to plant her bum in your lap.

You kissed at the top of her head and stroked your hand up and down her arm to soften her breathing some more. Harry sat down too, making it look like he was firmly planted within the little family meeting.

"Y'gonna tell mummy and I why you were sad?" Harry asked, stroking his thumb over her cheek to grab her attention.

"I wasn't there." She said as if you would automatically know what she meant.

"Where Haze?" Harry asked, but you cut in before she could answer herself.

"Our wedding." You spoke quietly. "Were you sad you couldn't come to our wedding, baby?"

"Yeah." She nodded sadly.

You and Harry looked at each other with a smile, happy to know that this wasn't some other urgent or traumatic matter that you'd deal with together. This was something that you could work around. Harry gave you a knowing nod, telling you that he had this under control if you wanted him to.

"Mini-me, you weren't here when mummy and I got married." Harry told her and that quickly got her attention.

"Where was I?"

You had to turn your chuckle into a cough as you mentally thought about how Harry would answer this one.

"You were still in mummy's tummy."

Close enough, you thought.

"I was in there?" She pointed at your tummy in awe. Every knew thing she learnt was crazily fascinating and you would not be surprised if she turned out to be a child-genius.

"Yes, baby, you were." You held her hand over your stomach, reserving yourself from crying over the thought that once upon a time she was pressing the inside of your stomach, but now she was touching the out. It was still a real pinch-me moment.

"So I guess I was at the wedding."

"Yeah. I guess you were." You smiled, kissing her on her forehead for being so smart.

"Sorry for crying. I just got sad that I wasn't invited."

You and Harry looked at each other again, silently conversing how proud you were of your daughter for apologising without prompt. It just showed what great parents you are.

"Hazel, believe us, if you were around then you definitely would've been invited. Mummy and I just had to have a wedding before we could invite you." Harry explained and you got all teary at how good of a dad he was being.

"Maybe we can have a pretend wedding? In our garden?" You offered and the way that Hazel's face lit up was as if you'd just told her that you next house would be made of sweets.

"Yes! Mummy! Yes please!" She got so excited that she got up off your lap and started to dance around you both. That was until Harry caught her and brought her in for some monster-tickles. Her laugh was second to none and it made you ecstatic thinking about how you'd brought a happy child into the world - even if she was a handful sometimes.

You wouldn't change you smiley family for the world.

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek 6 (6-18): Baby Damian | Family bonding | First crush

Warnings: none

Notes: Short, sweet, barely edited cuz it's 1am. Please enjoy some de-aged Damian and frazzled Dick. Yes I'm back on my Damian and Dick bullshit. I just love them so much.

-o-o-o-o-

Three days, according to Zatanna. The magic that hit Damian isn't permanent, and should wear off on its own within three days.

Dick already doesn't know what to do with himself. He was hardly prepared to take over and raise a ten year old, let alone a toddler.

But here he is, sitting in the manor living room watching as a small version of his already little brother toddles around on chubby baby legs. He can't be more than two. He can walk around on his own well enough—though Alfred did block off all of the stairs in the manor anyways—and every so often he'll point at something and say... Something that sounds like a demand.

Dick wasn't really ever good with understanding baby gibberish. It doesn't help that Damian seems to have reverted in memories as well... so the things he's demanding probably aren't in English as it's not his first language.

Damian wobbles up to Dick, holding out a toy train that Alfred dug out from the attic that used to belong to Bruce. Dick takes it and thanks him, but Damian pays him no mind and returns to his toys, babbling about something only he understands.

It's so weird seeing him like this. All small, chubby, soft, and bright eyed. Dick doesn't know everything Damian has gone through... growing up in the League... and as much as Dick dislikes Talia, he knows she was the best mom she could be to him. She's raised him to be a smart, strong young man, and taught him to be able to protect himself in his dangerous surroundings... and of course Dick has known Damian long enough to have gotten through his walls and see the wonderful boy underneath, but as he watches this toddler squeal as another toy train turns on and runs on its own...

He cannot help but mourn the child Damian could have been. Should have been if every child in the world had the privilege of growing up in a safe home and no worries besides homework.

He shakes his head. He cannot think like that. Whatever child Damian could have grown into if he hadn't been raised by the League is still in there. Just a bit harder to bring out. Dick can feel himself getting closer every day.

Damian notices him shaking his head and makes a curious ah sound. He walks over to Dick, lifting his arms, and Dick assumes he wants to be lifted. He smiles at the kid and grabs him under the armpits and lifts him into the air perhaps a bit quicker than what he was expecting. The kid screeches as Dick lifts him over head and let's go for just a moment to catch him and bring him back down to his face.

Damian scowls a familiar scowl and hits Dick on the nose with his stubby little fingers.

"Bah," he scolds, and a laugh bursts from Dick's throat.

Yup, Damian is still in there.

-o-o-o-o-

"I'm beginning to understand why B adopted all of us when we were already in elementary," Dick complains as baby Damian screams in his wooden high chair—yet another thing dug up from the attic that probably belonged to Bruce.

Alfred hands Dick a rag with a smirk. The thrown bowl of mac-and-cheese is all over Dick's shirt.

"Master Bruce always had a tenderness for infants," Alfred replies as he uses another rag to wipe off the still screaming and complaining Damian. "He always found joy in finding whatever excuse he could to hold and play with a baby. We used to go to a church when he was still a child himself, and there was a woman there without a husband who would always bring her infant. He would always offer to hold the child for her during the sessions to give her a break."

There's a twinkle in his eye when he looks over at Dick. "I imagine that if this had happened to you, or your other siblings, when he was still around, he would have loved every second of it. Food throwing, tantrums, and all."

Dick can't help but smile. He looks over at Damian who's now kicking his legs and waving his now clean hands in a fit. "Still, I wonder what's making him so mad."

"He might not like the taste," Alfred says, "or the texture. Perhaps some experimentation is due."

After some expiration and a lot of screaming through baby lungs that couldn't possibly hold that much air, they find that Damian really likes tomato soup, apple sauce, and broccoli.

-o-o-o-o-

"Master Dick," Alfred speaks up on the first evening while they were showing Damian Pooh's Heffalump Movie. Dick was relaxing and watching the movie, trying to remember if he's seen this one or not, while Damian was on the floor playing with an old kitten stuffed animal.

"Yeah?" Dick asks. He looks over at Alfred, only to see Alfred raise an eyebrow down at Damian. Dick follows his look, then his stomach drops when he finds that under the recently shopped for infant clothes, is a full looking diaper.

Dick looks back up at Alfred.

"Please, god, no."

Alfred drops a diaper, a bag of wipes, and a cloth into Dick's hands. "Good luck, sir."

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's about to lose his mind. He did everything Alfred told him to. He read a bedtime story—Where the Wild Things Are, as it was Dick's personal favorite as a child. He made sure his diaper was clean. He turned on some white noise. He even gave him Zitka. Yet, everything he did, Damian would scream and sob in his borrowed crib until Dick picked him up and started to sing the lullabies sung to him as a child. He sings the ones from his own native language, and even though there's no way Damian understands Romani, the kid calms down and reduces to exhausted little hiccups and almost seems to fall asleep with his little fingers curled in Dick's shirt.

And the second Dick puts him down, the crying rekindles.

Dick doesn't know what to do. Damian cries and cries until he's held and sung to, but Dick can't hold and sing to him all night. He paces Damian's room, bouncing the aforementioned kid-turned-infant in his arms, mumbling tunes to whatever lullaby decides to leave his lips.

Alfred told him he has permission to wake him up if he needed anything with Damian through the night, but Dick can't bring himself to. Alfred already works so hard during the day and night, keeping the manor in shape and making sure Dick doesn't get himself killed during patrol... He shouldn't have to be relied on to take care of a grumpy baby that won't go to sleep.

No, no Dick can handle this. Damian is calm when he's held and sung to, so that's what Dick will do. He walks to the cradle and pulls out Zitka, then goes to his own bedroom to sit on his bed and holds Damian close to his chest, singing and bouncing him gently.

Eventually, Damian goes completely still against his chest, snoring slightly, but Dick's too fearful to risk anything now. He stops singing though, resorting to simply holding Damian and trying to keep his own eyes open.

He fails, but he wakes up in the morning with Damian laying on his chest, still fast asleep and drooling all over his shirt.

Dick doesn't look a gift-horse in the mouth. He shifts into a better position, then allows them both to sleep in a little longer.

-o-o-o-o-

Alfred discovers the problem quickly when Dick tells him how hard it was to get Damian to sleep. Turns out, Damian's teething. By noon, Alfred had returned from the closest grocery store with a few tools to help with that. He puts a few water filled plastics into the fridge, then gives Damian one to chew on in the meantime. And chew on it, Damian does. He gets slobber everywhere, but at least he's no longer so upset, especially once a cold one is exchanged into his grubby little hands.

-o-o-o-o-

"That's absolutely adorable," Barbara says over the phone. Dick's just finished sending her a massive amount of pictures he's taken of Damian after taking him outside to play in the backyard with the dogs. He's sent her the pictures mostly because he needs people to see how cute Damian is while trying to tackle a dog twice the size of him... but also partly because he gets the feeling once Damian's back to his normal age, he will make sure all evidence of this is destroyed.

Barbara is someone Dick's sure can keep pictures hidden in a safe place... just in case Dick wants to see them again after lying to Damian he deleted them.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's beginning to understand why people like babies. Like, they're cute, yes. The sounds they make are cute sometimes too. The things they find funny are usually very goofy and enjoyable to watch. Their laughs are contagious, and their babbles are enjoyable to try and decipher...

But nothing beats watching them sleep, curled up against your chest. Full trust in you that you'll keep them safe. It's nap time, and instead of trying to peel Damian off from him and put him in the crib, he's decided to just let the kid pass out in his arms and use the opportunity to take a nap himself.

Apparently it's bad to always let babies sleep with you, but Damian's not going to be this small forever. Might as well enjoy holding him like this in pure peace while he can.

-o-o-o-o-

It seems Zatanna was generous with her prediction, as he wakes up with his breath being knocked out of him. Damian, his rightful age and dressed in his full Robin uniform, scrambles off of Dick's chest. It's all knees and elbows, and Dick's left rubbing his ribs as Damian pats his body, as if making sure he's really a 10 year old boy and not an infant.

"Good to have you back," Dick grunts, rubbing his eyes and holding back a grin.

Damian whirls on him and points an accusing finger. "I don't remember what all happened," he hisses, "but you will delete any photos immediately."

Dick bursts into laughter, grabbing Damians pointed hand and tugging him into a proper hug. Damian squawks just a little, but relents when Dick squeezes him tighter than what he would to an infant. Yes. This feels right. Baby Damian was cute and cuddly, but he really missed the prickly attitude of this rascal.

"Okay," he says, releasing his charge. "I'll delete the photos, after we tell Alfred you're back and you've changed out of the suit."

Damian huffs and nods. "That was horrible."

"I don't know, I thought it was fun," Dick teases. Damian glares at him and Dick grins back.

Yeah, he missed his kid.

[sergeantsporks]

Hexside University’s Falling Down (Owl House College AU)

CW: Alcohol, drunkenness, implied/referenced abuse, language

@zirconpetals

....

Haha, someone come get your white boy

#wasted

Amity snickered at her old friend’s tag, glancing at the dark, shaky video of a guy skateboarding down the stairs, wobbly and definitely drunk.

Waitasecond.

“Gotdamnit, Skara, that’s my white boy!”

Amity frantically dialed Luz. “Pick up, pick up, pick up—”

“Amity? It’s like—midnight, what’s—”

“A frat party. Hunter is at a damn frat party, and he’s drunk, and he’s riding a skateboard down flights of stairs, and I need some help picking him up. Also, you’re still in contact with that little computer girl who stole your school ID off of the library printer records, right?”

“Vee? Yeah, why?”

“You think she can take down some photos and videos?”

“I can ask.”

“Thanks, Luz. I’ll text you the address, okay?”

“Okay, meet you there.”

Amity hung up, pinching the bridge of her nose and texting Skara to find out where the party was. Hunter, you idiot. She pulled on her coat, hurrying out the door as Skara texted back. Her parents were out—good, because she sincerely doubted Hunter was in any state to be sneaking anywhere.

Amity jogged to the frat house, climbing in a window. She spotted Hunter pretty fast—luckily without the skateboard—and hurried across the room, grabbing him by the ear.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she hissed, dragging him across the room, “Getting drunk at a frat party?! This isn’t like you, you never go to parties, and you certainly don’t get drunk at them!”

“Look,” he slurred, “I’ve come to a revelation! Uncle Belos is—he’s going to get drunk no matter what I do! So I might as well…” he dazed off. “…I think I had a point…”

“How much have you had?!”

He shrugged.

Luz poked her head in the window. “Amity! Amity, over here!”

“Luz!” Hunter said delightedly, “I’m glad you could come!”

“Uh-huh, okay, buddy, c’mon. C’mere, let’s get you out of here.”

He stumbled towards the window. “Hey—why don’t you come in, they’re really nice here.”

Luz tilted his face towards the light. “You get that bruise from your little skateboard stunt, buddy?”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnope.”

Oh, Hunter. Amity sighed. “Okay, out you go.” She wrangled him out of the window, where Luz supported him, then hopped out herself, taking his other arm. “Rough night?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled, stumbling over his own feet as they guided him back towards Amity’s house.

“You know you can’t go get drunk at parties, right? I know, it sucks, but…”

“What, so he can just drink at your place, instead?” Luz said sharply.

“Hey, I watch him and he watches me! It’s controlled—it’s not like we’re getting rip-roaring drunk on cheap beer that’s probably been spiked with something else!” Amity took a deep breath. “Look, Hunter… people will see. Skara posted a picture online, what if your uncle sees?”

“Like he doesn’t drink?”

“Shshshshhh, not so loud,” Luz hissed.

“Doesn’t matter, Hunter, if he finds out…”

“I don’t care anymore!” Hunter glared at the sky. “HEAR THAT, UNCLE BELOS? I DON’T—”

Amity slapped a hand over his mouth. “You’re drunk,” she said fiercely, “You’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight, and you are going to do or say something you really regret.” She removed her hand. “Just… let’s get you home, let you sleep it off, let your raging hangover teach you a lesson.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, but let she and Luz guide him to her house, flopping down on one of the guest room beds and curling onto his side.

“… Thanksssss Amity. For… coming to get me.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t just leave you to get picked up by Kikimora, now could I?”

Luz waved her phone at them. “Vee should be taking care of incriminating photos and videos, so hopefully, your uncle will never find out.”

“You’re… my best friend.”

Amity shook her head. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah… you and Luzzzz are… you’re awesome. I love you guys.”

“Yeah we are. Now go to sleep, I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

Amity left the room with a sigh. “I think I need a drink.”

“Amity.”

“I’m joking, joking, Luz.”

Luz crossed her arms. “And if I wasn’t here, would it be a joke?”

“I don’t want to re-hash this, Luz. Not now. Please?”

Luz sighed. “I’m just worried. About you, about Hunter—all of it.”

“I know. I know, thank you Luz.” Amity leaned into her girlfriend. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Yeah. Anytime.”

[babytaes]

reaction to being asked to prom| en- ─ ot7 ˎˊ˗

a/n- I wanted to upload a prom reactions because my prom was yesterday and it felt right to do so. This one is quite lengthy. Enjoy-BT

✧ heeseung ∘*

The day was unlike any other, except that Heeseung had a mission in mind that he had been working on for months. He wanted to ask you out for prom, which was just around the corner. Despite the fact that you've been close friends for a long time, this has been on his mind for some time.

You'd just been summoned to join the boys for a casual lunch. You made sure to bring your camera with you when you left the house because they really wanted YOU to take their photos. You were the very best.

As you walked in the house, a familiar face opened the door as the cool air swirled around you.

“Hey Jake, where are we going to eat?” As he led you outside, he laughed and smiled broadly.

As you looked at what was in front of you, a loud boom sounded. As tears streamed down your face, the confetti danced around you. Heeseung and the other members stood there with your favorite roses, holding up letters spelling out Prom.

Your legs ached as you wobbled through the vast scene, weeping as you stared at him. As Heeseung handed you the roses, you stood face to face with him.

"So, what's your response?"

Your legs moved faster than your mind could comprehend as you engulfed him in a hug, laughing as you held onto him.

“Of course, I'd love to go to prom with you!”

“SHE SAID YES!!!” While the others snapped photos, Heeseung hugged you even closer.

“Oh, how much fun we'll have together.”

✧ jay ∘*

Jay was an old fashioned man. He didn't rush his plans; they didn't come together in a day. He wanted to be certain that all of the specifics were correct in order to meet your needs. Despite the fact that you told him you weren't planning on attending prom. He was trying to persuade you to change your mind.

The couch was the place where you guys hung out the most, watching childish movies or having intense making out sessions. It  had a soft spot in your heart.  You laid your head on the couch arm, pondering on what to do on it.

Sunghoon was just around the corner as you leapt to your feet, staring at him as he walked to the entrance. In his right, he was carrying a bag.

“Hey, what are you up to...?” Also, where are the guys? It shouldn't take two hours to get food back.”

He walked down the corridors, shrugging his shoulders as he left the room. As he raced down the stairs, smiling, he returned to the door and gave you a slow wink.

“There's something wrong with him.” You jumped to your feet and put on some slides as you chased him out of the building.

“SUPRISEEEE."

As you turned around, your heart paused for a brief moment. The house was festooned with a sign and balloons proclaiming. “Are you UP for Prom?”

“NO FUCKING WAY JAY."  You dashed to his arms and kissed him as he drew you in closer.

“Had to use one of your favorite films. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.”

“I love it."

✧ jake ∘*

As you walked out of the building and into your car, your phone rang.

“Hey, love, how about a movie night...?”

You smiled as you drove over to his place, eager to spend some time with him before finals began.

When you approached the driveway, you noticed a large number of other vehicles. They seem to be part of the group. You unlocked the door with your spare key, minding your own business. As you waved to the other members on the sofa, Jake ran up and wrapped you in an embrace.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?” I'm hot and sticky, and I'd like to spend the night.” Jake chuckled and kissed your lips before sending you upstairs to shower.

*Shower Done 30 minutes later*

“Hey Jake, I'm finished-” Your feet came to a halt on the stairwell, as you covered your mouth and stared at the scene in front of you. Jake is standing there with flowers in his hand and a sign that reads, “Will you light up my night at PROM?” You laughed and walked over to the group, tears in your eyes.

“Of course, I would love to.” As he pulled you into an embrace and kissed your forehead, the members erupted in screams.

✧ sunghoon ∘*

“This is too awkward; why can't I just ask her out regularly?” Sunghoon sighed into his hands and lowered his head. Sunoo laughed at his older friend as Jake pushed him.

“No girl wants to be asked out so casually, Sunghoon; you have to make it unique and unforgettable.” He sprang from his chair, picking up his head and nodding at the boys. He exited the practice room with his phone in hand.

Jake and Sunoo exchanged a giggling smile.

“So help him."

You entered your apartment, set your bags down, and took a look around. When you entered the kitchen, you were greeted by a familiar face.

“AHHH, Sunghoon you scared me.” He jumped as he put the knife down and walked over to you, hugging you as he stared at your petite body.

“Well, I made some homemade pizza and decided to surprise you with it. “Would you like to see?” You nodded and walked over to the pizza, gasping at what you saw.

*I know it's cheesy, but Prom?* As you embraced him again, Sunghoon covered his face with his hands. As you raised your head to look at him, he peered through his eyes and stared at you.

“You didn't have to do all of this you know, a simple request would have sufficed.” Through his eyes rolling, he gasped and chuckled.

“And the boys said I needed to go all out.” 

✧ sunoo ∘*

“Sunoo, you're acting strange, what's up with you?” Sunoo was about to take your hand in his and take you for a stroll. Unfortunately, you were exhausted and didn't want to go.

“Just this one time, Y/N. After that, we won't have to take any more. Pretty please .” As he pouted in front of you, he gave you one of his award-winning cute smiles. They were irresistible.

“Fine, but I'd like something to eat on the way back.” He squealed as he pushed you out the door on his way to the park, grabbing his shoes and jacket.

When you both approached the park's entrance, he kissed your hand and dashed inside. When you followed him around the corner, you rolled your eyes and yelled after him.

“SUNOOO, I thought we weren't running.” You grumbled as you rounded the corner to see a surprising sight.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you take me to be your date at Prom.” You laughed and scratched your head as you shook your head.

“No.”

Sunoo and the other members gasped as they awkwardly looked around after turning off their phones. You guffawed and dashed up to Sunoo, kissing his lips while laughing into his.

“Just kidding, I would love to go to prom with you. I will say no next time if you got me running anymore.” He laughed as he handed you the flowers before entwining you guys hands.

“I promise.”

✧ jungwon ∘*

As you and Jungwon walked through the Carnival, a warm breeze blew through the crowds, illuminating all of the attractions. As he led you to a stop on your date, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“My treat is cotton candy,”   You squealed and a wide smile emerged on your face as you pointed to the blue one. He took out his wallet and requested two blue bags from the lady. You and Jungwon arrived at the Ferris Wheel after eating your and mostly Jungwon's bag.

It was unexpectedly empty, and you dashed to the front of the line. When Jungwon said he needed to use the restroom, you were about to climb in. He kissed your brow and walked over to the bathroom.

“Y/N?”

You turned around to look at him and gasped. In his hand, he carried a sign that read. *You're the FERRIS of them all. Wheel you like to go to PROM with me?” As your skin began to tingle with excitement, a tear streamed down your face.

“Yes, Jungwon, I would love to join you.” Your feet guided you to his side, where you softly kissed him and soaked it all in!

✧ ni-ki ∘*

As you began your final lap for the track, the breath in your lungs had left you. When you looked up, you saw Ni-ki approaching you. Before he zoomed ahead of you, you both paused and chatted for a bit.

“You wanna head over to my house for some studying?"

When you hit him, a laugh escaped your mouth.

“That never happens, and you're well aware of it.”

He laughed with a smirk on his face before shouting something you didn't hear.

“Ni-ki, what did you say?”

He chuckled and made his way to the locker room. You shook your head and walked over to the girls locker room, laughing as you entered the showers.

You threw your filthy uniform in your bag and stepped towards the bench as you dried yourself and put on a fresh set of clothing.

“You have to come see this right now, Y/N.” Seri walked into the locker room panting, grabbing your shirt and dragging you back outside.

A series of hurdles were placed in the form of a question: PROM?" Your brows drew together as your jaw dropped.

“No way”

As he asked you again, Niki stood in front of you. You dashed up to him and embraced him, kissing his cheek and thanking him for his thoughtful gesture.

“I can't wait."

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[bellygunnr]

Blown Lightbulb

A commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman featuring Thomas Lasky/Sarah Palmer. 

---

The house is cold. It hasn’t changed at all since you’ve last been here, some twenty odd years ago. You hadn’t been a kid then-- just a pilot, home on leave despite not really wanting to be. It had been tense then. It was the same now, even if your mother wasn’t even here, and you were laying bare the contents of your past to the two people you loved the most and considered the most important in your life. You hesitate to look at them, not quite fearful of what they’re thinking but definitely reluctant, like any of this is your fault and something to be ashamed of.

You know no one can really blame you for wanting some modicum of closure, but you’ve always been conscious of starting losing battles. Your mother isn’t even here, for one. A toneless holo-message is all she’s left you, detailing that an emergency at work brought her in and she’ll be back sometime in the evening. Maybe you and your colleagues could meet her at this location, even, and upon further investigation, that location is a startling high-profile restaurant of considerable Martian renown.

So much for flying close to the surface. You’d be in the air for all to see, just for a chance to reconcile with what little remains of your family. But that wasn’t for several hours yet, so you content yourself with poking around the giant empty house and listening to Sarah and Roland banter between each other.

“No offense, but this feels kind of like a museum exhibit,” Sarah says. “It’s not even dusty. I’d prefer it if it was.”

“You’d prefer it? There are stock photos of kids up here-- unless the Lasky family is way bigger than records suggest,” Roland answers.

You look at the picture frames Roland is pointing out. Amid the pictures of your brother Cadmon, there are photos of a foreign family, conspicuously only featuring a father figure. You run your fingers through your hair, nostrils flaring with a barely-restrained sigh.

“We didn’t take many family pictures,” you say, as if that explains anything. “I’m going to check out the upstairs.”

You tug on the back of your head, pulling at the recently shaved strands in a fit of anxiety. You don’t want to go upstairs. You’re afraid of what you’ll find there. Cadmon’s room was practically a shrine twenty years ago. The stairs don’t even creak as you step up them and you’re not sure why you expect them to. They look and feel and sound like wood, but you know them to be special composites that just didn’t degrade.

Your grip lingers on the railing as you take the final step. The door you know that leads to your mother’s room is closed. The keypad lock to it is bright red. You wonder if the keycode has changed at all, but testing it probably isn’t worth the risk. Across from her room is Cadmon’s, but that door is also, as you expected, closed.

And the one you recognize as your own is ajar. You let your hand find Sarah’s, squeezing it so tightly that she squeezes back, thumb rolling over your knuckles in a decidingly tender way.

“You know you don’t have to do this, Tom,” she says gently.

“But I want to,” you say. “I know I don’t need to.”

“Well, that’s something.”

It is. You offer her a braver smile than you feel and let her follow you to your room. There are more picture frames up here, covering the walls in even intervals. You can only ignore them because you know Roland is looking at them. You nudge open the door with your foot and, again, hesitate at the threshold.

Was everything in this house going to be difficult?

You shut your eyes and take in a shuddering breath. You can feel Sarah at your back, her presence radiating warmth. If you wobble, you feel her sturdy body against yours, so you let yourself lean into the partial embrace of her arms. She squeezes your shoulders, just as ice trickles down your spine.

Roland’s presence bleeds into your mind like condensation forming on the outside of a glass. It’s not enough for his thoughts or feelings to be tangible, but it’s so distinctly him that you smile and relax, easing the tension in your balled-up fists and opening your eyes. The room ahead is dark, but all you need to do is step inside for the lights to wake up and--

It’s not exactly the same as you left it, but it’s close. Your eyes roam the room, picking out all the various effects of teenaged you. There are posters on the wall, though some of the pixels have gone dark in their paper-thin construction, and models on the shelves, thick with dust. Your bed is perfectly made, the pillows hidden beneath a dark red blanket. Inevitably, your eyes roam over to a box bolted seamlessly into the wall, just above your nightstand. 

“Ah,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I see.”

“Is that…?” Sarah starts, but trails off, uncertain.

You can feel Roland’s curiosity curling up in the back of your mind. If you strain, you can even see his glittery-gold essence creeping out toward the box, but that gives you a migraine the harder you try.

You open your mouth to try and explain what it is, despite what it is being obvious. It’s a physical control panel for a domestic-grade Dumb AI. His name is still plainly depicted in the form of colorful stickers-- Admiral Hart. He hadn’t been active last time, but he hadn’t been gone either, so at least the sick hope flickering in your belly isn’t fully misplaced.

Still, is it worth trying to activate him?

“Roland,” you say, feeling quite outside yourself. “You can investigate it, if you want. Um, if he’s in there, could you…?”

“Of course, Captain,” Roland says.

Roland’s projection hovers in mid-air, thrown there by the custom commpad he was currently residing in. He smiles brilliantly at you and Sarah before bringing up what must be the digital counterpart of the control panel, his gestures as grandiose as ever, his expression just visible behind the transparent boxes. You hate it, but you distract yourself by leaning into Sarah’s space and kissing the bottom of her chin, staying there until Roland pipes up again.

“He’s in there, Captain. Says here he hasn’t been activated since… 2549. Very long service life, this one.”

Oh, that wasn’t too bad. Still, nearly ten years, completely shut down.

“...I don’t know if I’m ready to see him yet,” you say in one long rush of breath, the realization making you feel ill. “I do miss him, though.”

“There are also several other AI matrices in here,” Roland adds. “Why so many, if I may ask?”

“They were my teachers, when I was doing homeschooling. I’m surprised they’re still here.”

Dumb AI were very limited in their fixed personalities, but you swear they’re more sentient than they let on. One didn’t befriend several all at once and not experience some inexplicable variances, but dwelling on it was starting to make you feel hot behind the eyes. You shake your head, exasperated.

“Sorry, this is-- a lot more than I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Sarah says lightly. “Want to go back downstairs?”

“Mind if I hang out in your house’s network for a little while?” Roland asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

“Go for it,” you say with a smile.

Roland winks and smiles before gathering up the tendrils of himself, more visible now that he was letting his essence ooze out between commpad, neural interfaces, and nearby network ports. Smart AI were remarkably fluid, or even gaseous, automatically filling in the void spaces around them, not because they wanted to be big as possible-- they were just that big. Still, you rub the back of your neck the same time as Sarah does, acutely conscious of the absence.

“Downstairs, then,” Sarah says. “Think there’s anything in the fridge?”

“I have no idea. Are you hungry?”

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday. To keep the motion sickness down, you know.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Her moving ahead of you prevents you from lingering too long upstairs, anxious as you are to keep up with her long strides. You have no idea where either of you are going to get clothes nice enough to go to a restaurant. Neither of you are dressed for it, let alone packed. Roland had suggested dressing as casually as possible to take the edge off, and well, maybe that was going to backfire. 

“I can feel you thinking too hard,” Sarah says.

She’s in your space the second you leave the stairs. But it’s gentle and unintrusive despite her taking up your whole line of sight. She’s teasing you, even as her brow is bent in concern.

“What am I thinking too hard about?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Something about your mom, like that stupid message she left us. Seriously, talk about a neutral location.” 

You laugh before you can stop yourself. 

“Got it in one,” you say. “I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Guess poor mother Lasky is going to have to come home after all,” Sarah says. “Isn’t that sad?”

She bumps your hip with the back of her fist, a playful nudge that, surprisingly, doesn’t send you stumbling. You punch her shoulder in return, silently following her into the next room, where the kitchen is. You watch Sarah go for the fridge and open it, head disappearing inside to scope out the contents. She retreats a moment later to throw something green and limp into your arms.

You catch it more out of surprise than anything, but you feel nauseous just holding it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Nutritional smoothie paste!” Sarah says, like she’s struck gold. “Used to eat this shit when I was a baby Spartan. They put it in Mjolnir on long-haul ops.”

“And that’s…. Is it good?” You ask, instantly skeptical.

“Hell, no. But I’m too polite to eat the meal plan stuff she has in there. So, drink up.”

Well, you couldn’t fault her there. You set the plastic tube of paste down on the faux-granite countertop, deciding that you’d rather let Sarah just drink both of them. You can’t stifle a smile as she immediately scoops it up, tearing open both of them at once and drinking them down in a truly disgusting fashion. But she doesn’t spill a drop, so... 

“I see you’ve gotten better at that,” you say.

“Roland made me promise not to make a mess if I’m going to be carrying the commpad,” she admits, looking exasperated for all of a split-second. “So.”

She tosses the spent bags onto the countertop, despite the trash can being directly underhand. You shrug that off in favor of grabbing her by the collar of her tank top and pulling her down, kissing her flat on the mouth. Her answering hum is felt in your bones and you both relax into each other, your anxious tension sapped by her solid core. She curls an arm around your waist and holds you in place, like she’s been waiting to do that.

“Relax a little,” she murmurs. “We can worry about her when she gets here.”

Not you, we. You feel a little weak in the knees at the distinction and let yourself hang onto her arms, certain that you’re looking at her with a dopey smile.

“But we probably shouldn’t do this in the kitchen,” she adds.

Before you can pull away, Sarah effortlessly hauls you into her arms, supporting you by grabbing a fistful of your ass and waiting until you wrap your arms around her neck. She squeezes your rear a couple times before moving, gait so smooth that you don’t even feel it when she turns on her heel to dump you on the couch with a flourish. 

You sink into the couch cushions, but wrap your arms around hers so that you don’t disappear completely. Her face is so close to yours that you count each individual scar and freckles, including the faint lines of surgical augmentations that only show up in the right light. You snake your hand up to the back of her neck, mindful not to grab ahold of the enlarged neural implant.

“Anyone ever told you you’re handsome, Tom?” Sarah murmurs.

“Mmm, I can think of a few…”

Her laughter is felt on your skin as warm puffs. She kisses you, her lips rough with bitten and half-healed skin that you nip at, chasing them when she tries to pull away. The plasticine fabric squeaks as she carefully, carefully lowers her weight over yours and straddles you, her thighs big enough to keep you in place. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will,” you promise.

You want to say that you know she won’t, but she always looks so earnest when she asks that this time, you don’t. Because she has before-- there’s a biological differential between the two of you that you never stop thinking about. You work your hand further up to pull her hair out of its ponytail, working your fingers into the coarse locks and kissing her more intently, eyes fluttering shut. I love you, you want to say. I trust you, which is just as hard.

Her hands roam across your shirt and pluck open several buttons so that she can follow the edge of your collarbone and the slope of your shoulders. Her warm, slightly sweaty palms are a sharp contrast to the cool air, and the shock of physical contact has goosebumps lifting on your arms. You lick at her lips and fist some of her hair, mumbling indistinctly as you pull her down closer.

There’s no smart quip or knowing look to make light of your neediness. She finally lets her weight drop onto your lap completely and the kiss moves on, her teeth and lips tracking across the edge of your jaw to just underneath your ear. Instead of letting your hands hover, you start to follow the hard curves of her body, groping at the bunching muscles and admiring the power coiled there. 

Then she snaps into rigid attention, face turned toward the front door, her lips drawn back in a snarl. You vaguely notice that she has a chipped tooth before you hear the door opening and Sarah is still poised over you and she’s kissing you again, hard, and you kind of moan into it--

“Well, then,” an all-too-familiar voice says. “Thomas, care to… introduce me?”

Finally, Sarah climbs off of you, but not before buttoning your shirt and kissing your forehead. Your brain already hurts from the mental whiplash of the situation.

“Um, mother,” you start. “This is Sarah Palmer. My partner.”

Your mother is shorter than you remember. Her hair, once a brownish-black, is in faded tones and grey at the roots. A scar that wasn’t there twenty years ago lurks just by her eye and she looks exhausted. Stress and worry lines make canyons of her face, ones that twist your heart to look at.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Sarah says stiffly.

She does not look amused. She doesn’t look much of anything except terribly stern and suspicious of the scene before her. You almost can’t blame her. Almost.

“You know, I was hoping you’d be here when we got here,” you say. “But it seems you’re still working.”

“Of course. Duty still calls, you know.”

You watch her as she shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack in the anteroom. Both nothing and everything has changed about her and it makes something in your throat tighten.

“Oh, I know that more than anybody,” you breathe. “Yeah.”

“I do appreciate you coming home, Tom,” Audrey says, not looking at you. “It means a lot. I thought I’d have to see you when the Infinity opened her doors to the public. That is still happening-- right?”

“Sure, it’s happening,” Sarah says. “Look, Tom, do you want me to…?”

You shake your head.

“Yes, but I won’t be back on Mars until then. Working nonstop has its benefits-- like a lot of vacation time.”

“That sounds like a dream, to be able to use it,” Audrey replies calmly. “I need to know if we’re having dinner tonight.”

You and Sarah share a look.

“I was thinking we could share a bottle of wine and shoot the shit instead,” Sarah says. “Or some scotch, if you have it.”

At that, Audrey looks amused.

“I never took you for a scotch man, Tom,” Audrey chuckles.

You don’t say anything as she leaves the room, no doubt seeking out the desired glasses and alcohol. The sun is going down outside, plunging the room in a deep red. This was going better than expected. You want to break open the window and run. You want to do anything but sit back down and draw out the table and sit in a semi-circle and “shoot the shit.” But you’re already sitting down and the bottle is open and you haven’t ate anything-- neither has Sarah, even, but with her augmentations drinking on an empty stomach is probably beneficial and--

“Good news, everybody! I took the liberty of ordering us some, what do you humans call it? Party food? You know, for all the drinking we’re about to do. You’re welcome!”

You choke on your own spit and your mother nearly drops the glass she’s pouring. Sarah, for her part, is taking the bottle and stealing a sip directly, if only to conceal a smug smile.

Roland is hovering inches above the faux-wooden table, drawn up to his full height with chest puffed out and expression gleeful. He flicks one hand out in a casual salute toward Audrey before trotting aside and sitting down, legs crossed.

“Cheers,” he says.

“Hi, Roland,” Sarah greets.

You had completely forgotten about Roland. Oops.

“Thomas, I do hate to ask,” Audrey says, peering down at Roland with a pinched expression, “but why is there an AI?”

“Oh, you know,” you say vaguely, waving a hand. “It’s classified.”

“I’m Captain Lasky’s boss,” Roland says, grinning. “So I’m allowed to be here, you see.”

“Are you my boss, Roland?” Sarah asks.

“No, ma’am.”

Audrey’s eyebrows shoot up. She takes a sip from her glass, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m Audrey Lasky,” she says finally. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night goes painfully.

[australet789]

since you finished omori, i want to hear some of ur thoughts.

Like the character synergies, music, plot or something like that

oh boy do i have thoughts

under the read more for spoilers, suicide mention, violence, psychologial horror:

Oh god where to start.

First to say that it's very clear that the main inspiration is Undertale/Deltarune, basically because of the tone and intention, and while they tried hard, it failed at some points.

The big fail, for me, is how they handled the Dreamworld compared to the Real World. Cause once you get out and get a glimpse to the real world, you want to come back to it and try to solve the mystery. The Dreamworld doesnt sound appealing anymore, you just want to get to the bosses and speedrun those sections (specially Sweetheart's castle and everything related to her), so you can get back and focus on what's happening in the other world. Which is sad, because, while there's lore hidden in the Dreamworld, the characters are no memorable there. It lacks the charm that Deltarune has in this matter, if we compare the two pieces of media. I would say that maybe the writers tried to make the Dreamworld unappealing in a symbolic way for Sunny to move on, but that's a stretch.

Now to the real world

oh boy, now that's the interesting part

I think that area is the best one. You get to know the town, you get hints and reactions about Mari's death, why it couldnt have been made a scandal, the kids are grown up now but you care for them, for their now, their fucked up present, more than their past. Because you want to help them. even tho i felt it was more about helping Aubrey and Sunny, than the other three. Because with Hero and Kel we knew their backstories, but for Aubrey and Sunny, we didnt know the whys. And Basil wasnt as cared until the reveal moment, because he has been framed as an antagonist for the whole game until that moment.

btw the horror with Sunny's nightmares was amazing. The foreshadowing with the One Eye figure being Mari's judging eye was super cool. The whole section of overcoming your fears was very well done.

Before going to the controversial part (yeah, that part) I want to say that my favorite character is Hero. My man deserved better, he deserved to know what really happened, and when you see the photos with Mari, you can see how much he loved her That broke my little heart.

Kel and Aubrey are ok, altho i favor Aubrey because of what you see when you enter her house. You realize then that her anger was justified. Obviously the bullying was wrong, but she was in her right to be angry at Sunny and co.

Sunny

Sunny is my least favorite but not for the reasons you may believe. I dont blame him for what happened to Mari, nor following Basil's plan to make it look like a suicide. ( funny story: i have seen several comments on youtube being like "kids wont ever think about suicide, the whole plan feels unrealistic", and i was like "dude, this is a game inspire in undertale...UNDERTALE. I was literally thinking about suicide at 6-7 years old. It's not weird for kids to have those thoughts". ok end of story, let's continue). Because if you gather information, you may know that Mari has weak knees caused by a prior accident. Now, both siblings were at the border of the stairs. I dont know you, but being so close to a border makes myself tense and try to keep my balance. Sunny pushing her just so he could pass (cause Mari was blocking the way) most likely made her lose her balance, and probably nothing would have happened has she not had the knee problem. Her legs probably wobbled, which caused her to fall and die.

Now the source of a lot of discussions in the fandom game: the suicide plan. Honestly? I also dont blame Basil to coming with that idea. Of course the idea was terrible and telling the truth would have saved a lot of the problems. But they were kids and the thing with kids is that they dont think the long consequences of their actions or how would that affect others. Which is exactly what happened. Basil just wanted to protect Sunny. In that moment he didnt care that a suicide is actually a big thing, and in the small religious town they lived, it was gonna be worse, Basil just cared to save Sunny and nothing else. If the accident was framed as suicide, they wouldnt focus on Sunny. I'm pretty sure that went through Basil's mind and that's why he did it.

It work, but not as they expected

Because obviously, the parents knew what happened. I'm pretty sure the police knew too, but it was stated that Sunny's family was one if not the richest in the town, so i would imagine the parents paid for the silence. but still, the family got broken: Sunny's dad disowned him and left.

But again, that's not why i dont like Sunny that much. What i didnt like of him was, when he finally gets out of his 4 years self confinement and reunites with Basil and he later finds Basil crying, he just freaking leaves in a cold way. I was livid when that happened. Basil risked himself by helping Sunny, lived with the same guilt for years, only for Sunny to see him in distress and just flees? wtf dude

And that happens again in the final boss fight against Basil. It's clear that Basil is having a mental breakdown and seeing hallucinations, and instead of helping, SUNNY TRIES TO RUN AWAY AGAIN!

For me, those two instances made me not like Sunny like the other characters. Yes, he was suffering too, but that's not the way to treat the friend that literally helped you when you killed your sister. Getting his eye lost was very deserved tbh.

And im glad that, in the true ending, he actually decides to reveal the truth. Basil and the others deserved as much. I would have loved to know their reactions and if they would decide to forgive Basil and Sunny for it. I like to think they did, at their own pace.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH3

It’s akuma time! This chapter hurts worse down the line, if you can believe it. I have a lot up my sleeve for Alya and Marinette this go round ;)

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Previous   First   Next    AO3

Chapter 3: Ignorance

Nino entered the locker room, nodding his head to the beat playing in his headphones. Alya was taking the whole Marinette situation hard, so he wanted to make sure she was okay. Maybe they could go out for some ice cream to cool off, then try talking to Marinette about what happened. Surely, there was an explanation for it.

As he rounded the corner of lockers, his eyes widened with terror. Red lips upturned into a sinister smirk, and Hawkmoth’s newest creation stared back at him with a set of familiar hazel eyes.

“Alya?” he gasped.

“Not anymore.” She trailed her thumb over the small pitchfork in her hands. “I’m Backstabber, and I’m going to get revenge against my so-called ‘bff.’”

Nino turned to run, but Backstabber launched a pitchfork straight into his back where it disappeared with a spark. She paced over to him, lifting his chin as tiny devil horns matching her own appeared on his head.

“Now,” she cooed. “Isn’t there something you have to say to your best friend?”

♪♫♪ Let It Die ♪♫♪

Across the street, Adrien and Marinette sat in her living room, picking away at their homework. Adrien was in her living room. Sitting on her couch. Drinking her tea. He was too beautiful for words, his gorgeous green eyes scanning over his maths problem. His face alone made her regret ever leaving Francoise-Dupont. How was she going to survive without seeing his radiance every day?

Marinette was too busy memorizing the rhythm of his breathing to focus on her work, the memory of his arms wrapped around her still fresh. He’d cradled her in his arms. Of course, it was because she was ugly crying, but she would ignore that detail.

Adrien was too perfect for words. How did she ever think that he would abandon her when she left? Their friendship meant a lot to him. She meant a lot to him. It was a fact that she’d spend hours dreaming about. One day he’d hold her in his arms and whisper those three beautiful words. Then they’d get married, have 3 kids and a hamster named-

Adrien’s phone rang, snapping her from her trance, and her heart sank. It was probably his father demanding that he come home like normal, but to her surprise, Nino’s picture flashed on the screen.

“Hey, Nino, what’s up?”

“Ya know what, Adrien? I’m tired of your goody-two-shoes act, pretending you’re all innocent,” Nino said.

Adrien’s eyebrows raised. “What are you talking abou-”

“I’m gonna tell your dad to start homeschooling you again so the rest of us don’t have to put up with you anymore.” Nino hung up with a maniacal laugh.

“What was that about?” Marinette asked.

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, staring down at the screen, “but it can’t be good.”

“You don’t think he was akumatized, do you?” She reached for her purse.

“If not him, then probably someone else, I should get home before things get too crazy. I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir will handle everything soon, so stay inside where it’s safe, okay?” He shoved his tablet and textbook back into his school bag quickly. “See you around, Marinette.”

“Uh, yeah, see ya…”

Marinette reached for her purse the moment the door shut behind him. “Let’s get out there and capture this akuma before Nino gets to Gabriel Agreste. Tikki, transform-”

Before she could finish the phrase, the front window of the living room shattered, and Marinette shielded her face from the debris with a yelp. Her purse tumbled under the coffee table out of reach.

“Hey, Marinette.” A familiar face loomed over her with a twisted grin. “Remember me? Your bff?”

“Alya?” Marinette gasped, stumbling over the side of the couch. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She readied another pitchfork. “I’m not Alya anymore. I go by Backstabber now, but I bet you know all about that sort of thing.”

Backstabber tossed a small pitchfork and caught it again as Marinette inched toward the stairs.

“What are you talking about?” She needed to reach her purse, but Backstabber was closing in.

“You know what you did,” she snarled. “I’ve got a pretty pitchfork here, how would you like to shove it into my back? Oh wait, you already did!”

Marinette turned to dash up the stairs, narrowly dodging the pitchfork as her parents burst through the front door.

“Marine- Oh!” her dad gasped before taking a defensive position between Backstabber and the stairs. “I won’t let you hurt my daughter!”

“If you knew what she was really like, you wouldn’t bother protecting her.” Backstabber’s eyes narrowed as Marinette’s mom entered the room. “But tell me, daddykins, can you protect your wife and your daughter?”

With a flick of her wrist, Backstabber launched another pitchfork at Marinette’s mom. Her dad jumped in front of her, turning his back and taking the attack himself.

“Dad!” Marinette gasped as two horns appeared on his head before she retreated through the trap door into her room.

“Tell me, Marinette,” Backstabber continued, pursuing her calmly as Marinette scrambled to the loft stairs. “Did you ever consider me a real friend?”

“Of course, I did!” Marinette paused halfway up.

“Then how could you abandon me?” Backstabber palmed another pitchfork. “How could you leave without telling me?”

“How could you abandon me?” Marinette shot back, eyes stinging. “How could you take someone else’s side over mine? How could you put me in the back of the class by myself and not even apologize?”

“Lila was right about you. You really are just an attention-seeker, always playing the victim,” Backstabber said.

Marinette clenched her jaw before crawling over her bed and through the skylight onto the balcony. She climbed over the wall, wobbling as she made her way out onto the rooftops.

“You know what I think?” Backstabber called, and Marinette spun around to face her. “I think you’re the real liar. Always running late, making up excuses, disappearing suddenly, so what secrets are you hiding, Marinette?”

Before Backstabber could attack, Chat Noir smacked the pitchfork from her hand with his staff. “It’s dangerous to play on the roof. Someone could fall,” he said with his usual taunting lilt.

“I don’t think Marinette can sink any lower.” Backstabber glared through her. Marinette’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“What happened to you two? I thought you were best friends,” Chat Noir asked, taking a defensive stance in front of Marinette. “Not too long ago you were putting your neck on the line to save her, and now you’ve turned your back on her?”

“She turned her back on me!” Backstabber shouted.

“Only because you were being a bad friend!” Marinette shot back.

Backstabber flinched, squeezing her eyes shut before she unleashed a slew of pitchforks with a growl.

Chat spun his staff to deflect them as Marinette cowered behind him. She needed to find a way out of this to transform. Maybe Ladybug could talk some sense into Alya, but her purse was still down in the apartment.

“Ah!” he hissed as a pitchfork grazed his arm.

Marinette cupped her hands over her mouth in horror, but nothing happened. “Why didn’t it transform you?” she asked, closing her eyes and picturing her dad. “Of course! Her attacks only work if they hit you in the back.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to keep this battle face-to-face,” he said, wrapping an arm around her, “but first I should get you to safety.”

“Not so fast, kitty!” Backstabber growled, charging in, but he dodged out of the way before she could strike.

Landing in the street, Chat Noir set Marinette down and brandished his staff once more.

“Go! I’ve got your back,” he shouted as Backstabber gave chase. “Cataclysm!”

As Marinette ran up the street, Chat Noir touched his palm to the concrete, opening a crater to the sewers to distract Backstabber while Marinette escaped. She needed to meet up with Tikki before Chat Noir changed back.

Ducking back into the bakery, she tiptoed around the counter and pressed a hand to the side of her mouth. “Tikki?” she called in a hushed tone, creeping over to the backdoor.

“Marinette!”

She jumped as her kwami phased through the floor and flitted into her face.

“Thank goodness.” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “Come on, let’s go before Backstabber gets the best of Chat Noir. Transform me!”

Chat Noir’s cries echoed between the buildings as Ladybug stepped out of the bakery, and with a practiced toss, she created a net between two light poles with her yoyo to catch him.

“I see this battle is really flying by,” she said as he climbed down.

“Yeah, and we need to move quick. I don’t have a lot of time left.” He held up his ring finger where three pads flashed.

“Oh look, the cockroach has joined her mangey stray,” Backstabber cooed.

“And she’s about to kick your butt.” Ladybug charged in.

With each strike, Ladybug scanned her person, trying to figure out where the akuma could be hiding. Nothing stood out besides the intricate brooch embedded in her suit. Alya never wore jewelry, and Ladybug couldn’t fathom why the akuma would be there. As she dodged another swing, a familiar photo of the two of them nestled inside the jewel stood out. Back flipping out of the way a few times, she pressed her hands to either side of her mouth.

“Chat Noir! The akuma is in the photo in her necklace!” she called as Backstabber crossed her wrists to block his staff, forcing him back a few paces.

“What’s the plan for getting it because I’m running out of time,” he said urgently—his last two pads flickering.

“Lucky charm!” She caught the two necklaces as they fell from the sky, turning them over in her hands to read the two halves of a heart together. “Best friends forever… What am I supposed to do with this?”

She glanced around with a pensive frown, singling in on the photo in Backstabber’s necklace and the tears bubbled in the corner of her eyes.

“M’lady?” Chat Noir dodged another pitchfork.

“Go! I’ve got this.” She ordered, but he eyed her skeptically, his ring flashing.

“Are you sure, m’lady?” he asked.

“Positive.”

Chat Noir glanced between them with a conflicted frown before vaulting himself into the rooftops.

Ladybug took a stance in front of Backstabber in the middle of the street. “Just you and me now,” she said with a gentle determination.

“How do you expect to beat me with that?” Backstabber scoffed, cocking a hip to one side.

“Not with this.” Ladybug shook her head. “With words. You’re upset that your friend abandoned you, right?”

Backstabber seemed taken aback. Her jaw clenched as Ladybug held up the necklaces.

“She’s your best friend, and right now you’re hurt and confused, but have you considered that maybe she’s feeling the same way?” Ladybug continued.

“She left me!” A tear rolled down her cheek. “She didn’t even say goodbye!”

“Don’t you think she has a reason? Best friends don’t just abandon each other.”

Backstabber weighed it before shaking her head. “What reason could she possibly have had?”

“There’s a lot you probably don’t know about your friend. Secrets that she wishes she could tell you but can’t…” Ladybug averted her gaze. “I’m sure you’re both hurting, and Hawkmoth took advantage of that, but you’re stronger than he is, Alya.” At the sound of her name, Backstabber flinched, and Ladybug paced over to place her hands on her shoulders. “I know you are.”

Backstabber searched her gaze, lips quivering, shoulders shaking. She hugged her sides as hot tears spilled down her cheeks, sinking to her knees. Ladybug crouched beside her, fastening one of the necklaces around her neck before opening the clasp of Backstabber’s locket and removing the picture inside. Ladybug stared at it with a frown before ripping it down the middle, separating the two smiling girls and freeing the black butterfly from inside.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma.”

♪♫♫ Miserable at Best ♪♫♪

When the doorbell rang, Marinette stood up from the couch and straightened her blazer. She took a deep breath before striding over to answer it. Miraculous Ladybug set everything back to the way it was, but there were some things that her superpowers couldn’t fix. This time she would have to face them herself.

“Hey…” Alya gave a half-wave when Marinette opened the door.

“Hey,” Marinette replied.

“Sorry about earlier,” Alya said with a wince. “I was upset about you leaving, and I guess Hawkmoth could sense that.” When Marinette remained quiet, she bit her lip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Marinette averted her gaze. “I didn’t want anyone to make a fuss because I’d already made up my mind.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because-” Her words caught themselves on the tip of her tongue.

What was she supposed to say? That it was because her friends abandoned her? That her friends trusted a stranger over her when she’d proved to them time and time again that she was trustworthy and honest? That she didn’t say anything because her friends would have tried to guilt her into staying because she couldn’t provide them a believable answer for why she was leaving? Even now she couldn’t think of a viable way to prove to Alya that Lila was lying, since she was so insistent on Marinette having evidence. Alya wasn’t one to take her word without proof even though she seemed to have no trouble doing that for Lila. Marinette wasn’t sure which was worse: Alya’s lack of trust in her or her overabundance of trust in Lila.

“Because of Lila?” Alya asked, and Marinette fixed her gaze on the door handle. “Why are you so bothered by her? She’s never done anything to you, and all you’ve ever done is accuse her of lying about everything.”

Marinette wanted to tell Alya the truth more than anything, but given her track record, she didn’t think it would do any good. She couldn’t prove that Lila had threatened her, and even mentioning it would seem like another vain attempt to defame her. As much as it pained her, Marinette didn’t have an answer for Alya. If she was so bent on having concrete evidence, then there was no point in trying to come up with one, so she simply shrugged.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, girl, but it’s not healthy,” Alya said. “If you’d just give Lila a chance, you’d see that-”

“No,” Marinette said firmly, and Alya’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Sorry, but I won’t play along with her.”

“Play along with- this isn’t a game, Marinette! She’s just a person with an exotic life,” Alya chided, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Honestly, it won’t kill you to try.”

“I can’t be friends with her.” Marinette shook her head.

“Why?” Alya asked. “Give me one good reason why. I’m sure if you tell her about Adrien-”

“It’s not about Adrien.”

“Then what?” Alya held her arms out. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of her getting attention from everyone.”

Marinette recoiled at that, eyes stinging. The fact that Alya even mentioned that proved that Lila had her hooks in too deep. Alya couldn’t be saved. As much as it pained her, there were some villains out there that even Ladybug couldn’t defeat.

“I’m not jealous of her, but I am a little hurt that my best friend is siding with someone she barely knows over me,” she said with more bite than she intended.

“Can you blame me with how sketchy you’ve been acting? What proof do you have?” Alya shot back, hands balling into fists when Marinette shifted her weight. “Lately, I feel like I don’t know you as well as I thought I did, girl.”

“I’m starting to think the same,” Marinette said.

“Then I guess we shouldn’t consider ourselves bffs if there’s so much we don’t know about each other!” Alya retorted. “Maybe we shouldn’t even be friends at all.”

Marinette suppressed a sigh, heart sinking as she held Alya’s gaze before three of the most painful words passed her lips. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Alya took a step back, jaw dropping. Her eyes burned into Marinette’s, fresh tears bubbling in the corners. Marinette wore a steely mask, relaying no emotion despite the hammering in her chest. She bit her lip to hide how it shook.

Alya finally flicked her gaze to her feet, rubbing at her cheek before a tear could escape. “Well, I guess that’s that then,” she said. Alya turned and stormed down the stairs.

Marinette closed the door, lingering with her hand on the handle. Her shoulders shook, and she sank to the floor with a whimper, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. As it turned out, the high road was far lonelier than she’d ever imagined, but there was no going back now. She’d made her choice.

[sluttyten]

sweet like honey || part ii.

sweet like honey || part i

summary: you haven’t been able to stop thinking about another guy joining you in bed with johnny and seonghwa. there are so many choices, but in the end there’s only one that works out.

length: 17,755

tags: smut, threesome, foursome, daddy kink, slight cuckoldry?, blowjobs, more kinky stuff

It’s a very happy thing to be caught between and taken care of by two very handsome men. Johnny and Seonghwa make you happy. And it’s not that they’re not enough for you because they certainly are, but ever since that first night that you had the pair of them together, something that was said has stuck with you.

The hint or suggestion or idea of what it would be like to have a third man in bed with you.

For weeks later, your mind reeled with that thought. Every time one of them touched you. Every time you were at work, personally working with a boy group or any male idol, you analyzed every single moment and wondered what it would be like to invite the member in each group that you were most attracted to.

When you spent a part of a day with Seventeen, you felt drawn to Myungho and Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Joshua. All four of them (well, the whole group really) were attractive, and those four attracted you in various ways that had you falling into bed with Seonghwa and Johnny that night to tell them about the fantasies your mind had concocted.

There was a day you were with Stray Kids, and Bang Chan’s gaze lingered a moment longer than the rest of the guys. You’d heard how his fans liked when he said “baby girl” and you’d even seen the clips a few times, and in those few seconds his gaze lingered, you heard his voice in your mind, that beautiful accent making “baby girl” sound so sexy.

Another day, you teased Seonghwa by asking him if he had any idea if San or Yunho would be interested in joining you in bed. That pissed him off enough that by the time you left your legs wobbled from the overstimulation, and your thighs were marked up with bruises from his mouth, and you were so pleased that you didn’t want to leave his bed except that you had work in the morning and his roommate was coming back soon.

For a brief hour, you’d seriously considered whether Got7′s Jinyoung would be a good choice. He smelled amazing and looked stunning. Same thing with Monsta X’s I.M. He was handsome and funny when you were showing them to the stage, and you caught him and Shownu looking at you more than once.

Once you briefly entertained Johnny by guiding his hand between your legs and whispering to him about a dream you’d had featuring him and Jaehyun after you’d gone with Johnny and him to the gym. “His muscles, Johnny,” You moaned as his fingers curled inside you, and still you whispered, “Imagine fucking me with him.” And he’d played along, amused by you for the time being, but afterwards he shut it down. There would be none of his members joining you in bed.

There were many male idols you considered and let your imagination run wild with. But eventually you would have to decide on one who you could easily imagine filling you up with Johnny and Seonghwa.

“Your dirty imagination is going to get you into trouble one of these days.” Johnny told you, stroking your hair as Seonghwa penetrated you from the back.

You loved the nights that you could have them together, when they could excuse themselves from their dorms and come over to your place. Although you absolutely loved having alone time with either of them, there was nothing that quite compared to having them both at the same time. It often led to Seonghwa whispering dirty names in your ear, Johnny moaning and calling you his little whore. You loved how filthy they made you feel.

Seonghwa bottomed out, pushing you higher in Johnny’s lap. He reached around to cup one of your tits. “You’re only a naughty girl for us, aren’t you, kitten?”

Their kitten, their sweetheart, their sweet sugar baby.

Multiple times now they’ve both offered to keep you comfortable if you leave your job. But you love the work too much. And, not that you would admit it to either of them, but you don’t put enough faith in this semblance of a relationship to quit your job and solely rely on their money to keep you in your home with food on the table. There was still no real name put to this. They didn’t call you a girlfriend, you didn’t call them your boyfriends.

So when the day came that you were at work, rushing to arrive on time due to horrible traffic, you came skidding through the mist, the rain dampening your hair to your face, soaking through your sleeves, and when you ran down the hallway, your shoes squeaked and slid over the floor.

You were so focused on wiping the rain from your eyes, trying to sort out your hair, that you weren’t actually watching where you were going, and you went crashing through a group as they sleepily shuffled into their waiting room.

Three of the guys scattered, two of them reached to steady you. All of them made alarmed noises.

“I’m so sorry!” You apologized, reaching back to the hands that reached for you. “I’m so sorry! Sorry!” You bowed apologetically and then hurried away, feeling embarrassed as you rushed down the hall to find your boss and learn who you were going to be in charge of for the day.

You find yourself returning to the scene you had just fled from moments before, although this time you had yourself somewhat sorted out and the earpiece in your ear had the voices of your coworkers buzzing through it occasionally. You slipped through the door of the dressing room, bowing and greeting them all kindly.

“Hello, Pentagon members and staff.” You introduced yourself, laid down the rules, the parameters of your job for them today. You internally prayed that none of them recognized you as the girl who’d barreled into them not so long ago. 

But no sooner have you finished speaking than Wooseok, the tallest member of the group, gives you a strange look and says, “Didn’t you just try to run us over in the hallway? And now you’re taking care of us today? Should we really trust you to do that?”

You blushed. 

Fighting through your embarrassment, you smile and answer, “That was before I had my coffee. You’re in good hands now, I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy him for the moment. He smiled at you. His warm, dark eyes lingered on you for a moment before he looked back at the stylist who was trying to work with his hair. 

You took the moment to check your phone. 

There was still a bit of time before you had to worry about getting them to the stage for their rehearsal. You looked around at them, counting heads, running over their names and faces that you had on the sheet of paper on your clipboard. Your gaze returned to the photo of Wooseok on the paper then the Wooseok sitting across the room from you.

He was handsome. Tall, big, strong looking. Just your type.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. A message from Seonghwa appeared on the screen. Two hearts and a sweet “good morning sweetheart”.

You smiled as you typed out a response. Just as you hit send and move to tuck your phone away, a voice asks, “Your boyfriend?”

Wooseok is standing closer to you now, leaning over as he digs through a bag on the floor. 

“What?” 

“Was that your boyfriend you were just texting? A smile like that must be for someone special.” He straightens up, and you hold your breath for a second, taking in the size of him. He’s tall, and this close to you, you feel small and a little flame hops to life in your belly.

You shake your head. “Not a boyfriend.”

“Husband?” Wooseok asks, trying to hide a crestfallen tone. When you shake your head to the negative for that too, he brightens somewhat and turns away. “Interesting.”

You try to hold back a smile. He’s interested. You’re interested.

The next step is to message your other two boys. Though you suspect Johnny’s not awake yet, you send your message to them both in the same chat. It’s not that you’re necessarily asking them for permission to pursue this thing with Wooseok, but that’s sort of exactly what you’re doing. You want their feedback, their input on who joins you in bed. 

And you do hope that if Wooseok is genuinely interested in you, he’d be interested in sharing you with Johnny and Seonghwa. Just for one time. 

Back when you addressed this little fantasy, whispering it to the boys a few days after that first time, you’d all talked it over and decided that it could be something you’d try. But only just once. 

“It’s hard enough sharing you with Johnny,” Seonghwa said, pushing the older man’s hand from where he’d reached to fondle your chest. “I don’t need another horny asshole trying to steal you from me all the time.” To which you’d just laughed and pushed him onto his back so you could sit on him and kiss him.

Seonghwa responds in a timely fashion, just a simple, “Whatever you want, you know I’m good with.”

Johnny doesn’t respond until two hours later as you’re leading Pentagon toward the stage. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check the message, all Johnny had to say was: “you do have a size kink don’t you, sweet girl?”

And God. Yeah, you do. But you didn’t expect him to call you out on it like that.

Before you can put your phone away, another message comes through from him. “If you want him, see if he wants this. I’m down for whatever if Seonghwa is.” 

There’s your all-clear.

You step aside and gesture toward the stage for the members, smiling and waiting for them to pass by. Wooseok is the last, fidgeting with his stage outfit, the in-ear, his hair. He pauses beside you, giving you a sideways look. 

Cautiously, you reach out, tug lightly on the vest he’s wearing for the performance, just trying to straighten it a bit. “You look great. Good luck up there.”

Wooseok gives you a lingering look, and then climbs the stairs to the stage to join the rest of his members. 

Back at their dressing room afterwards, you stand outside the door. You have no reason to be with them anymore. You’ve fulfilled your role for the day, and now all that’s left is heading back into the small office to talk with your boss before you leave, but you find yourself hanging around outside, hoping for one more chance to talk to Wooseok. You’re not sure how to broach the subject with him. With Seonghwa and Johnny it was easy, they slipped you their numbers and things developed from there. 

The door opens, catching you by surprise. 

Wooseok steps out, and when he spots you still standing there, he grins. “I was hoping to see you again before we leave. About earlier, when I was asking you about your boyfriend, I was only asking because I was wondering if you’d like to...”

You cut him off. “Full disclosure, I am sort of seeing two guys too, but yes, I would like to hang out with you.”

Wooseok pauses, looks around, glances back through the door into the dressing room and then lets it fall closed. He steps closer to you, and part of you wants to take a step back, but you don’t. You just look all the way up at his face.

“Oh. Two guys?” He asks. You nod, waiting. “And is it serious?”

“Yes and no. They know about each other. And it’s been like two months with both of them, but I’m not a girlfriend for either of them.” Your stomach twists a little. This somehow feels like you’re being dishonest, although nothing you’ve said is a lie. 

Wooseok nods, his face giving away nothing of what he’s thinking. Until finally he says, “Okay. Well, I don’t mind that. I’m not really looking for anything serious either.” His voice dips lower as a dressing room farther along the hall opens and another group and their staff come pouring out. “My group has a history with trying to do relationships, you know?”

You do. You remember that drama surrounding Hyuna and Hyojong’s relationship coming to light. 

“Are you just looking for something, like....” Your gaze drops, sliding down his body to the front of his pants. “Or, like just a casual more kind of friendly relationship?”

Wooseok glances away, his cheeks ever-so-faintly pink as he tells you, “Less of a friendly relationship. Oh my God.” He covers his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I’m just like, discussing this out in the hallway. With you. I just met you this morning, but you’re really pretty, like my ideal type.”

Now it’s your turn to blush again. “Well, Jung Wooseok, I think we should talk some more about this. Maybe in private next time?” You pass him your phone quickly and subtly, and he enters in his information for you to message him. “See you around.”

He nods, slipping back into the dressing room. “See you.”

Jung Wooseok does not disappoint. The gentle giant that he is, he is so tender with you when you make out on your sofa. He lifts you into his lap. Buttery soft moans slip from his lips when you grind on him, clutching his shirt and making your own needy noises. 

He’s not too experienced. He fumbles a bit while undressing you and he doesn’t last long enough to get you to orgasm too, but he makes up for it with his fingers inside you, his mouth on your nipples. He’s gentle and good to you, so caring and soft. Incredibly soft when you run your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes and sucks at your breast, his fingers stroking smoothly inside you until your legs curl up, closing around his hand. And he holds you, laughs as you whine when he keeps fingering you, and then he kisses your forehead.

You’d told him already that this wasn’t going to be able to be a continuous fuckbuddy kind of relationship. 

“I have my two other guys. They’re possessive.” You tell him afterwards as Wooseok is getting dressed again on the edge of your bed. 

“Do they know about me?” Wooseok asks, a strange hard edge to his voice. 

You nod silently. Wooseok has to turn to see the answer from you, and when he does, he immediately turns away again. You scoot closer. “But Wooseok, can I tell you something?” He doesn’t give you an answer one way or the other, so you say, “They’re very possessive. Like, they share me. Together. And it’s not really as casual as I think I may have led you to believe.”

With that he turns to look more sharply at you, his brows drawn together, his discerning gaze scanning your face. “What do you mean by that?”

You take a deep breath. “With them it started out like with us. Like, very similar with us, but back then I didn’t mean it to.” You sigh, nibble at your lip nervously before admitting to him, “They’re also both idols. But both of them approached me, it’s not like I’m chasing male idols down to bed them or anything like that. But they approached me almost at the same time, and I said yes to both of them, and then they found out about each other and then we just sort of started hooking up together more than apart. And they mentioned something once about sharing me with another guy, just for one night. I spent weeks looking for another guy, and I swear, Wooseok, you’re the first one that I thought would be a good fit.”

He looks at you suspiciously. 

“And you are a good fit. You make me feel so good, and you’re so big.” You feel warm just thinking about the all over size of him again, the feel of him over you like you’re so small. “So, I’m trying to ask you if you’d like to do that? Be the third guy?”

Wooseok looks you over for a long moment, and then he looks away, stands up from the edge of the bed and finishes dressing. You watch him fumble a bit as he fastens his pants, his hands trembling slightly. He shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m sure it’s good for you, and if that’s what you’re into then more power to you. Having multiple guys wrapped around your finger like that must be nice. That’s just not something I’m into. I’m more of a traditional one guy, one girl kind of guy, I think.”

He finishes dressing. You pretend like your heart isn’t sinking. You walk him toward the door, and before he leave you stretch up on your toes and kiss him once again. His hand slides around, large palm and fingers spreading over the small of your back. 

“I had fun tonight.” Wooseok tells you. “If you ever change your mind and you want me back in your bed. Just me and you. Let me know.”

“Sorry it didn’t work out.” Johnny says around the spoon in his mouth. 

You’re sitting together cross-legged on the floor of the practice room where he’s just finished practice with his other members. They’ve all left to go grab something to eat, but Johnny invited you to meet up with him, so now here you sit, eating cups of yogurt, sandwiches, and a coffee you brought him.

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna force this. And he was okay, made me feel good enough, but I think it was his size more than talent. He was really gentle with me too, not dominant like you two.” 

“So is the search starting again? Gonna find another guy to tempt into your bed for a trial run before you bring him to the real deal?” Johnny leans back on his hands to look at you. “Have you told Seonghwa that you fucked him?”

“No, he’s overseas right now. I’m not going to bother him with this, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that it’s not going to work out. He didn’t seem too supportive of my choice.”

Johnny shakes his foot, tapping it against your leg. “He’ll support whatever you want. You’ve got him fully under you spell, baby.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods.

“And what about you? Do I have you under my spell, Johnny Suh?” You sit up, crawl forward until you’re straddling his lap. “Are you telling me that you wouldn’t support me with whatever I want? If I told you that I want you to sit by and watch while I fuck the next big, muscled, handsome idol that I see, you wouldn’t do it?”

“I would. But only because I want to see that. Don’t forget who’s in charge, baby.” Johnny puts a hand on your ass, leans in until his lips are half an inch from yours.

The door opens, and you both jerk and turn to look. You almost fall off of Johnny’s lap, but then you’re looking at Chanyeol who just walked into the room with Sehun beside him, both of them looking at you and Johnny tangled there on the floor.

“Hey, hyungs.” Johnny smiles, waving awkwardly. You scramble to untangle yourself, face flaming as you greet the two of them. “Perfect timing. She was just telling me--”

You slap your hand over Johnny’s mouth before he can say another word, but he frowns at you, takes your wrist, and pulls your hand away. Although both Chanyeol and Sehun would fit the description that you just gave Johnny, you don’t want him to tell them that.

“She was just telling me,” Johnny repeats, looking you in the eye as he says, “How big of an EXO fan she was before she met me. Go on, baby, tell them.”

You know you’re obviously blushing as you look at the two men still frozen in the doorway. “I was-- I am a big fan of EXO. All of you, everything you do, you’re all amazing.”

They thank you, and when Johnny teasingly suggests that you should take a picture with them, you slap his arm. He takes your wrist in his hands, then tells his sunbaes, “We’re leaving if you wanted the room. Sorry.”

That was awkward and you run from the room as soon as you can, Johnny trailing behind you as he chats with Sehun for a moment. You try to catch your imagination before it runs away from you, making a fantasy where Chanyeol pins you to the wall of mirrors in that room and fucks you while Johnny watches.

You don’t talk to him as you exit the building, and it’s only when you’re halfway to your place that Johnny finally breaks the silence. “Did you really think I was going to tell them right there that you told me you would fuck the next guy you saw that exactly fits their descriptions? I’m not trying to let everyone I know think that I like being cuckolded.”

“Oh my God, you’re not being cuckolded!” 

A week later with Seonghwa still gone and Johnny busy, it was difficult to run it by them when you found another eager idol. 

Changkyun of Monsta X had flirted with you in the past, smiling and making jokes and very obviously checking you out. And then he’s back, laughing loudly with his head thrown back, arms over the back of the seats to either side of him, his legs spread invitingly as he then looks at you, cocking his head a bit to the side.

You would be lying if you said the way he looked at you didn’t make you wet. He looked so cocky and hot, like he wanted you.

Your boss had instructed you that Monsta X was going to participate in a skit, that you were to lead them to the smaller shooting studio. The members chat among themselves on the way there, you talk with one of your coworkers, and it’s not until they’re halfway finished shooting that your coworker nudges you.

“I.M. keeps looking at you.” She whispers, hiding her smile behind her hand. 

“Maybe he’s looking at you.” You cross your legs, try to ignore the throbbing want between them. 

She swats at you. “Yeah, that’s not it. He’s definitely looking at you. He’s been looking at you since the moment we walked into their waiting room.”

And he definitely is checking you out. 

When you can take a moment away from the set, you step out and call Johnny, just wanting to hear his voice, wanting to hear him say it’s okay for you to want Changkyun. You can’t call Seonghwa about it. If your math is right, then he’s either on stage, about to be on stage, or just getting off stage on the other side of the planet. You’re also not trying to run up your phone bill by calling all the way over there to him. 

Johnny answers after a few long rings, and you whisper your thoughts to him.

He just laughs. “Remember back when I thought you were mine?” 

You just whine exasperatedly. “Johnny. Come on.”

“I know, you’re horny, baby girl. Neither of us have been around to play with you, and now you’ve got another man wrapped up in your spell.” Johnny lowers his voice. “I’ve never heard anything negative about him, so if you want to, then go for it. Are you going to keep us a secret from him too? Isn’t that what ruined it with Wooseok?”

“Do you want me to tell him about you two?” You cover your mouth and whisper as a team passes by. 

“Tell him our plan. Don’t tell him our names until he tells you yes.” Johnny says, “Be a good girl for him, yeah?”

He doesn’t have to tell you that. You’re always a good girl. You end the call a moment later as your coworker pops her head out to tell you to come back inside. 

The group has a bit of down time between finishing this and when they need to go to the stage, so when your coworker begins leading the group back to their waiting room, you linger at the back of the group and Changkyun stands beside you. His arm brushes yours, and you look up at him. 

There’s not truly an exchange of words, just looks passed between you both, and needy throbbing pulse when his fingers touch your wrist. You take his arm and pull him away from the group.

It’s very risky to do this where you work while you’re meant to be working, while you’re meant to be escorting him back to his waiting room with his group. 

But he seems just as into it as you are.

There’s an empty waiting room, unused today, and you push the door open, flip on the lights, and drag Changkyun in behind you. He pins you against the door, and his lips press hot to yours. You cling to his neck, curling your fingers against the little hairs brushing the back of his neck. 

His hands dip into the waistband of your pants, tugging your shirt free so he can get his fingers on your warm skin.

You moan, but push at his shoulders lightly to get him to back off for a breath. He does, but only to kiss down your throat, licking a hot stripe over your exposed collarbone. 

“Do you want me?” He murmurs, and his fingers on your skin slip south, teasing at the elastic of your panties. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you when we came here, and the way you’ve been looking at me all day. Shit, pretty girl, I don’t even know your name, but you’ve got me so hard.” Changkyun grinds forward so you can feel his erection against your hip. 

You whisper your name, barely able to even summon your voice to do that as his fingers push into your panties, sliding right down into your wet heat. You shift your hips forward into his touch, roll your head back against the door. You clear your throat and repeat you name. “That’s my name. But, uh, before--” Your words cut off with a moan as he plays with your clit, but you swallow it down and force the words out. “I should tell you, I am sort of seeing, uh, two other guys. I’m only here because they want....”

“Want what?” Changkyun mouths at the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. You feel like putty melting at his touch, liquid in his hands. “They want you to be fucked properly? Look how wet you are for me and I’ve barely touched you, pretty girl. So wet and naughty, coming along with me to let me touch you when we’re both supposed to be working. This is what your boyfriends want?”

You shake your head, gasp for breath as he slides one finger inside you. “They want someone to join us in bed.” You feel so flushed, both from the things he’s doing to you and also because of what you’re telling him. You’re nearly strangers, but here you are letting him finger you in a waiting room and pleading for him to come fuck you along with Seonghwa and Johnny. 

“Bet you’d look so pretty with your lips stretched around a cock, getting fucked from behind.” He drags one thumb over your bottom lip, and your mouth falls open just a little, and Changkyun takes that as an invitation to touch the pad of his thumb to your tongue. You close your lips around him and suck, meeting his gaze and holding it as you suck and lave your tongue over the digit. “Shit, do they know what they’re offering up? Giving you free rein to fuck any idol that wants to? Don’t they know they’re going to lose you to someone hotter, richer than them?”

“They’re idols too.” His thumb falls from your lips, dropping down to massage your breasts through your top. His damp thumb rubs circles over your nipple, and you press your chest into his touch, grind down on his fingers inside you. 

Changkyun frowns at that, but it vanishes from his face a second later, replaced instead with a cocky smirk. He drags his fingers from your pussy and steps back, leaving you cold and hornier than before, but he takes hold of your hand and leads you over to a sofa against the wall.

When he sits down, his legs are spread wide apart, his bulge straining against the front of his pants. 

“They must not fuck you right for you to need three men warming your bed, pretty girl.” Changkyun tugs you down into his lap. “Maybe you need a real man to fuck your drenched cunt. If I fuck you, you might not want to go back to him.”

His confidence is over the top. You want to tell him that Seonghwa and Johnny have satisfied you more than anyone else ever has, but instead you keep your mouth shut, just wanting him to make you cum now. You proposed your invitation, and it’s up to him to accept or not, though it’s really beginning to sound like he has no intention of joining in, just bragging on himself and thinking he can steal you away. Which maybe, if the relationship with them was newer, he would’ve stood a chance, but this is months in the making now and you love having Seonghwa and Johnny inside you. Changkyun would have to have some bomb ass dick to sway you from them.

You pull his mouth back to yours, grinding down on his erection. 

You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket, and Changkyun smiles into the kiss, his hand moving to your ass and he pulls your phone out to look at the notification. 

“Johnny, huh? Is that one of your boyfriends, pretty girl?” He drops your phone to the side. 

A heavy weight falls into your stomach, and suddenly you can taste guilt on your tongue. You glance over at your phone once then again, and when Changkyun grabs you by the chin to turn your attention to him again, you find that you’re no longer as turned on as before. Not even close.

You shake your head and close your eyes. His lips brush your throat.

“Stop. I can’t do this.” 

You push his hands away, and Changkyun falls back easily, letting you slip off his lap and scoop up your phone. It’s just a short message with a photo. “Be a good girl” and a mirror selfie with his large hand spread over his thigh.

“Are you really leaving me like this?” Changkyun asks, gesturing to the bulge in the front of his pants. 

You’re not sure where this guilt truly came from. You had been enjoying yourself with his tongue in your mouth, his hands on your body, but just that simple reminder of Johnny had put you off. 

You shake your head at him again. “Sorry, I can’t.” 

The way that he drops his head back with a groan, his hand sliding into his lap to cup his bulge, it sends another pulse of guilt through you.

“But, if you want, I guess... I could give you a hand?” You offer half-heartedly. 

Changkyun jerks his head. “No, I’m not gonna make you do that. I just need a few minutes, then I’ll head back to the waiting room. Don’t worry, I know the way so you don’t have to wait for me.” You hover there for another few seconds as his fingers work at the button of his pants, and then he looks back over at you again. In the gentlest voice you’ve heard from him yet, he says, “Seriously, I understand. Don’t stand there looking at me like that, like you’re worried about hurting my feelings or anything. Go, before they all get suspicious.”

So you leave, slipping through the door and escaping back toward his group’s waiting room. 

You’re halfway there when the guilt swamps you again and the tingle of hot tears builds in your eyes. You grab your phone again and dial Johnny’s number. As it rings, the guilt gnaws at your insides. You really did that, almost fucked Changkyun at work without Johnny or Seonghwa truly giving you any form of a go-ahead to mess around with someone without them. 

Your tears spill out, and you sink to the floor of the hallway in a crouch, trying to hold yourself together as you cry like you haven’t in ages.

He picks up a moment later, sounding out of breath when he says, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Johnny, I’m sorry.” You hiccup, breathing raggedly through the tears. 

His breathless greeting turns quickly to panic, as he asks, “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

You wipe at your foolish tears. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t let him fuck me, but I’m sorry still. I feel bad and gross for doing this without you two. And he kept saying things like he was going to steal me away from you two.” You sniffle and feel more warm tears spilling from your eyes. 

“It’s alright, baby girl. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod your head, press the phone more against your ear, cradling it against your cheek as if it can give you the same comfort as having him there with you. “Please don’t tell Seonghwa about this, though. He doesn’t need to know. It was a mistake.”

“Do you still want what we’ve been talking about? Or is this the end of that?” 

You do still want it, you think. But no more doing this without either of them. It feels like a betrayal of sorts to cut them out. “I still want it, but only with you and him there. If neither of you are there, it just feels wrong.”

Johnny hums pleasantly in agreement before his tone dips more towards that deeper dominant tone that you love so much. “That’s good, baby. You know why?”

“Because I’m yours.”

“That’s right. Now wipe your tears, clean yourself up, and get back to work, sweetheart. You were a good girl today. I’ll call you again later when you’re off and when I’m finished for the day. We’ll talk some more, okay?”

And it is okay. Johnny’s voice helped you clear your mind, so you stand up, wipe your palms over your cheeks, and you step into the toilet for a moment to splash your face with some cool water, take some deep breaths, and go back to work like the events of the last fifteen minutes hadn’t happened at all.

Seonghwa was lounging on your bed, hands behind his head while you rested your head on his chest. He’d only been home for a few days, and finally he was given a day off, so he came straight to you. You’d still been asleep when he snuck into your bed, his hands sliding over your bare skin, lips caressing your shoulder.

That had been hours ago.

You’d fallen back asleep together again, snuggled together. You nuzzle you’re face against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating through. “I missed you,” you mumble.

“I’m sure you did, kitten. Did Johnny not pay enough attention to you while I was away?” He strokes your hair, and you tilt your head back to look at him. He taps your nose with one finger. “I think he must not have if you had to go tangle yourself up with that tall guy from Pentagon, or lusting after IM.” He tuts. “You were quite the little slut while I was away.”

You sit up so quickly the room spins as you try to focus on him. “Seonghwa—“

“Don’t try to deny it, kitten.” He sits up as well, pushing his hair back from his face. “I know all about it. Johnny told me how you went ahead and fucked him, how you had to have him even though he didn’t want to be involved with us.” Seonghwa shakes his head in disapproval, then says, “You really are a little slut, aren’t you? I thought it was just for Johnny and I, but you’re giving it out to anyone else who looks your way, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, twist your fingers in his shirt, and can’t wipe away the pout on your lips. “Seonghwa, no. I’m sorry. Please, I’m a good girl. I’m just for you and Johnny.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” You whimper, apologetic and ashamed, but also very turned on by his anger. It’s not like he’s really genuinely angry with you. You’ve seen him like that once after a sasaeng leapt at one of the other members at the airport. He’d been terrifying. He didn’t scare you like this right now.

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” You try to kiss him, but he turns his head at the last second so your lips only skim his cheek. “I’m yours, Seonghwa.”

His hands dig into your thighs when he drags you up into his lap. “Don’t play that game with me. I’m not Johnny. I don’t care about that possessive ‘tell me you’re mine’ shit. I just can’t believe you fucked Wooseok behind our backs. Then tried it again with IM a week later. It would be one thing if you’d asked us first, run it by us that you were planning on taking them for a test ride, but you didn’t. And I had to find out from Johnny, sweetheart. I thought you told me everything?”

Usually you did. You’d told him about your sexual relationship with Johnny nearly from the start; spilling the sordid details for him to get off to with you. Even after they knew about each other, Seonghwa still liked you to tell him about what you and Johnny did when he wasn’t around. He liked when you told him about your dreams, both the sexual and non-sexual. You talked to him about work, about family and friends, about the random thoughts that were just silly or dumb. You did talk to him about pretty much everything.

But somehow Wooseok had felt a little bit like a betrayal. IM had felt a lot like betrayal, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about either of those with him. Maybe you’d had a feeling deep down (so deep that you hadn’t really realized you felt it) that Wooseok only wanted you and not all the rest, so you’d kept it secret from them. But at least Changkyun had seemed somewhat interested in the prospect of your other two beaus. 

“I won’t do it again.” You promise Seonghwa now. “It’s only you, me, and Johnny from here.”

Seonghwa’s fingers rub distracting circles on your thighs. “Oh? So you don’t still want that third guy in bed with us?” You squirm in his lap until he pinches you lightly. “Because Johnny and I were also discussing that, and maybe we should introduce you to some guys that we think would be interested. Would you like that?”

Of course you would.

You nod eagerly. Perhaps too eagerly.

Seonghwa flips you over onto your back. He rolls his hips against yours, kisses at your neck, and groans. “I really did miss you too, kitten. You wanna show me what a good girl you can be?” You nod once more. Seonghwa smiles, and says, “Don’t cum until I tell you to.”

His fingers dance up under the hem of your sleep shorts, and when he reaches the apex of your thighs, he finds you bare and wet, warm and ready for his touch. You shift your hips toward his fingers, but he pulls back to swat at the side of your hip as a reprimand.

“Stay still too.”

Seonghwa works your shorts down your legs, and you flick them off to the side, before he’s parting your legs, sliding into the space between them, licking languidly over your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips.

“Missed eating you out. Did you miss me too?” He mumbles as he places scattered kisses over your inner thighs. “Maybe I should teach Johnny to improve his head game, would you like that?”

You would love to see that. Both of them kneeling between your legs, two tongues swirling against you. Maybe even their mouths brushing together against you. Seonghwa’s hand in Johnny’s hair, his voice low and dominant, telling the older man just exactly how to do it. Just thinking about it has you gushing wetness, and Seonghwa gladly licks it up, holding you against his face as he keeps going.

You want to cum so badly, so instead you grasp at handfuls of your bedsheets, attempt to squirm away from his magical lips, but Seonghwa won’t release you, and your orgasm rises fast, swelling inside you until you’re crying out “I’m so close! Please, Seonghwa, please!”

He pulls away, kisses your knee and kneels back so he’s looking down at you, flushed and messily wet, wide open and fucking needy for him.

Just the way he likes you.

He takes his time stripping down, wraps his hand around his dick to rub himself to full hardness while he looks down at you. You want to reach for him, to pull him against you, inside you, but you dare not. He pumps himself, and when he finally kneels on the bed, you could cry out in relief, but then he just moves up until he’s straddling your chest, his heavy cock hanging above your lips, waiting for the warm wet heat of your mouth. 

When you only slowly lift your head to take him into your mouth, Seonghwa reaches down, laces his fingers through your hair, and pulls you onto him, sinking his hips forward as well with a moan.

“Missed this, kitten.” He thrusts slowly, savoring the feel of your mouth around him. You can’t help reaching up to touch him now, your fingers on his hips and thighs and his butt. “I don’t know how many times I rubbed a quick one out thinking about your lips. Johnny helped with that, you know? He sent me a video of you sucking him off while I was away.”

You remembered that. One day when you surprised Johnny at his dorm when he got home from a long day of shooting, you’d whined to him about being bored and lonely, missing him and Seonghwa as they’d both been obviously busy, so he pushed you to your knees and told you to suck him off and stop whining, which you had eagerly done, doing your best to please him with your mouth, though his thoughts had clearly wandered to the other man in your lives. 

When he’d suggested sending a video of you on your knees, taking Johnny’s cock and getting your mouth filled with his cum, you moaned your agreement. And now it was finally Seonghwa’s turn to have you like that.

He lets you off to catch your breath when you pinch at his hip, and as you pull in fresh breaths, you keep your hand sliding up and down his erection, your eyes connected with his. You know you probably look a mess with saliva all over your lips and chin, but you kiss his tip sweetly anyway, dipping your tongue into his slit to taste his precum.

As sunken into what you’re doing with him as you are, you don’t hear the distant noise of your apartment door opening. Seonghwa’s head turns though, but a second later he looks back down at you with dark eyes, his fingers twisted in your hair to pull your mouth back onto his cock, and you resume blowing him.

Seonghwa releases his hold on your hair, reaching back to touch your thighs, spreading them apart as he drives his hips forward. You gag around him, drawing a guttural moan from his lips, and his fingers dip between your spread thighs, teasing over your clit, collecting your wetness before he enters you with two fingers.

So distracted are you, that you don’t notice when Seonghwa’s hands return to your hair, but the fingers inside of you keep going.

It’s not until the fingers fall away, shortly replaced by the fat head of a big cock that you notice.

You pull back from mouthing at Seonghwa, a moan spilling from your lips, and at last you see Johnny. His clothes are piled near the door, the food he’d brought over, abandoned there as well. Until just now, you’d completely forgotten that you’d invited him over this afternoon. 

He presses into you, and your walls stretch to accommodate his girth.

“Johnny!” You gasp, arching your back and digging your fingernails into Seonghwa’s thighs. Your gasp becomes a whimper when Johnny’s hands reach around Seonghwa, one dipping down to circle around the base of his cock, moving Seognhwa back toward your mouth even as Johnny sinks deeper into you.

“Fuck her mouth. We want her double-stuffed, don’t we?” They both look down at you, and you’re not sure which gaze you’re supposed to meet, so you glance back and forth between them both, tentatively licking at Seonghwa’s weeping tip. “Look at her,” Johnny coos. “Your sweet little kitten, right?”

Seonghwa rolls his shoulders and brushes Johnny’s hands away from him. You know he doesn’t like it when Johnny tries to take control of him too. “Not double-stuffed like this. Her sweet pussy, pretty ass. That kind of double-stuffed.” When he moves back from your mouth, you whine, chasing after him, but he throws one leg over you and slides away. Johnny stops fucking you. 

“Hey!” You complain, not sure which one of them to reach for first. You want Seonghwa back, but you also want Johnny to start moving again. “Come back over here.”

Johnny smacks your thigh. “Don’t talk like that.”

You close your mouth and pout up at him. “I want you. I wanna cum. Seonghwa’s being mean and told me I can’t cum. Please, Johnny.” 

He runs a hand up your body, thumbing one of your nipples. “You wanna cum, baby? Daddy punishing you for sleeping with Wooseok and IM?” You nod sadly. “Well, that’s just not right is it? He’s always telling you not to cum, but me? I wanna give you more than you can handle. Seonghwa.”

The younger guy reappears. 

“Can’t we let her feel good? Give it to her until she can’t take any more,” Johnny suggests, starting to impale you on his cock again. “You always want to be rough, denying her shit. Sometimes you’ve got to shower her with affection.”

Seonghwa snorts. “Fuck off, Suh. I was here before you.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t love when I walked in here. You saw me. You didn’t say anything or make any indication you didn’t want me here. You even opened her up for me, spread her legs, got her started with your fingers. Admit it, Seonghwa, you want me here as much as she does.”

“I just want her.” Seonghwa pushes at Johnny. 

You sit up now, and you move away, pulling off Johnny’s cock and shifting up the bed.

“Stop fighting.” You tell them. “You’re being idiots.”

Johnny opens his mouth as if to tell you again not to speak to them like that, but this isn’t some little dom-sub play in bed. You just wanted a nice fuck from even one of them, and then with both of them it would be even better, but they’re fighting and you don’t want that shit. 

“No.” You climb off the bed. “I’m not going to have either one of you fuck me if you’re going to fight. Right now, I’m getting in the shower, and if you can work your shit out, you’re welcome to join me in there. If not, you know where the door is.”

You’ve already rinsed out the shampoo and begun working conditioner through your hair when the bathroom door opens with a soft knock that you can barely hear over the sound of water on the tiles. Johnny appears first. You give him a sidelong look, then tilt your head back and keep working the conditioner through your hair. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Johnny steps into the shower, reaching for you. Another move near the bathroom door draws your attention, and you see Seonghwa too, walking toward you too. 

Your shower’s not very big, hardly big enough for just you and Johnny, but Seonghwa comes inside too. 

“We’re both sorry.” Seonghwa carefully slips around behind you, his hands rising to your hair, twisting it up into a sleek knot on the top of your head. “We both like to be in control over you, but I guess sometimes we should just let go a little bit. Take it easy on you. Do you want that, sweetheart?”

You nod, closing your eyes when his lips touch the side of your throat.  “Sometimes I just want you both. I just want you both to make me cum. Like with the pair of you, it shouldn’t take too long, you know? But you always want to draw it out and sometimes I feel like I’m fraying more than just snapping, which is the sweeter orgasm sometimes.” 

“We can do that,” Seonghwa promises.

He mouths at your neck, Johnny reaches for your hips. Both of them are still hard. The shower’s spray burns over the tops of your shoulders, drips down your chest, from the tips of your breasts. 

Smoothly and quickly, Johnny lifts your legs, Seonghwa’s hands take Johnny’s place on your hips, helping hold you up as Johnny slides his thick cock right into you. 

You cling to him, wrapping your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck, a soft cry leaving your lips. He bounces you on his cock. Seonghwa reaches under you too, a finger stroking your entrance where Johnny stretches you open, and slowly, Seonghwa fits his finger inside you beside Johnny. 

“Want both of you inside me. Please.” You roll your head back against Seonghwa’s shoulder, and his lips drag over your cheek. “I need you both like that. Get me ready to be fucked by another guy too.”

Seonghwa bites at your throat. “Are you really thinking about another mystery man when you’ve got both of us? Is Johnny’s cock not enough for you? You need mine and another one too?”

“She wants her pussy torn apart.” Johnny grunts, fucking up into you in a way that makes you squeal and reach for the wall just to steady yourself a little bit. 

“Her size kink?” Seonghwa laughs, finally fitting the one finger fully inside, getting started on stretching you to take his second along with Johnny’s cock. “You like big boys, sweetheart? Tall boys, big cocks? Was Wooseok big? IM?”

You feel like you shouldn’t answer that. 

“You want another big guy to fuck you with us?” Johnny asks. “Who is there?”

Seonghwa pumps his fingers inside you, spreads them apart and that stretch burns a little. You whine and suck in a sharp breath. He kisses your shoulder, and Johnny lifts his hands to caress your breasts. 

“Seventeen’s Mingyu is a big guy,” Seonghwa suggests. “Bet he has a big cock.”

“Spend a lot of time thinking about other guy’s cocks, Seonghwa?” Johnny teases. You suppose Seonghwa gave him a withering look because Johnny continues, “Jaehyun’s friends with him. He might be able to make an introduction. Would you like that, baby? You know Mingyu, right? You’ve worked with him before?”

You shake your head. “Not him. You think you have me pegged. Big boys aren’t just my type.”

“No?” Seonghwa gets a third finger inside you. “Then who? Us and Wooseok are the best evidence we have. So give us some other examples, kitten. Who else would you like to fuck you?”

You have a couple names and faces that rise in your mind. Seventeen’s Minghao whose long fingers and handsome looks have attracted you. Once you’d watched VAV’s Lou and considered that he’d probably treat you right in bed. Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids. And also, the best example you can think of to give them that would show that your type isn’t always a tall, big guy:

“San would be pretty nice to fuck.” You gasp.

Seonghwa immediately smacks your ass, curls a hand around your throat from behind, and growls in your ear. “Say that again.”

“Or Jimin from BTS. God, he’s shorter than both of you, but something tells me he’s got a good cock that would be so good for me.” 

Seonghwa spanks you once more. Johnny grinds his cock into you. You moan, scrape your nails over his shoulder. Seonghwa bites at your throat again, and then you feel his fingers slip out of you. Johnny pulls his hips back until just the tip of his cock is inside you. Seonghwa fits his cockhead right there too, and then they both press into you. 

“Oh, shit. Wait, wait.” You squeeze Johnny’s shoulder. “Too much. Go slower, please.” 

Seonghwa slides in deeper, but Johnny hesitates there, waits for you to nod a go-ahead, and then Johnny eases into you too. You feel so full with both of them inside of you like that, pressed between them like the cream between two cookies, double-stuffed.

You giggle at the thought.

“What are you laughing about?” Seonghwa’s tongue traces the shell of your ear. 

“I’m double-stuffed, like an Oreo.” 

Johnny rolls his eyes and smiles, dips forward to kiss you. 

They move inside you together, stirring you quickly toward orgasm. You clutch at Seonghwa’s hair while he runs his lips over your neck and cheeks and shoulders. Johnny’s hands touch you everywhere else, pinching your nipples, caressing your thighs.

It’s Johnny who cums first, spurting into you while Seonghwa keeps going, and you cling to Johnny as support when your orgasm follows just moments later, his fingers on your clit, his cum leaking out of you with each of Seonghwa’s thrusts.

“Seonghwa, please!” You moan, attempting to grind down into his thrusts. “Please cum in me.”

“Nasty kitty,” he teases, nipping at your shoulder. His fingers dig into your hips then, rolling his hips into you, a very pleasant and steady move that has your sensitive bits tingling warmly again.

You whine and lay your head on Johnny’s shoulder, legs squeezing around him as the way that Seonghwa’s making you feel. Another orgasm peels through you, and you shudder and shake, muffle your moans against Johnny’s damp skin.

“Seonghwa.” Johnny’s voice is a command, echoing through the bathroom.

Seonghwa’s rhythm falls apart then. He plants himself deep inside you, throbbing and pulsing you full of his cum. He kisses your neck and shoulders, and when you pull your face back from the crook of Johnny’s neck, Seonghwa curls a hand lightly around your throat to direct your mouth to his.

You kiss languidly there for a moment, Seonghwa’s tongue twisting with yours while the shower runs and their combined semen leaks from you. Johnny kisses you too, first mouthing at your cheek, and then when Seonghwa pulls away, he captures your lips, tasting your sound of disapproval when Seonghwa steps away from you, leaving your pussy empty around nothing.

As Johnny and Seonghwa carefully help you lower your legs to the shower floor, your wobbly knees and tingly feet slide on the wet tile. Seonghwa loops an arm around your waist to steady you, murmuring a “Careful, sweetheart” before he releases you again, stepping back once more.

The water’s gone cold now, and you shiver when it finally hits you without Seonghwa there to block the majority of it. But his warm hands wash down your back, Johnny’s hands comb through your hair, rinsing out the conditioner at long last. They help wash you down quickly, and then the three of you step out of the shower.

Johnny wraps you in a towel and lifts you in his arms, and you watch over his shoulder as Seonghwa wraps a towel around his waist and checks himself out in the mirror for a moment before following after you. Johnny drops you lightly on the bed, and you look up at your two boys, feeling that ache in your core from having them both inside you, and you realize that you definitely want more.

As rare as it was for both of your boys to have a break at the same time, you’d never expected that they would secretly plan a trip for you. Not much of a trip, honestly. Just a full weekend with the two of them at a fancy hotel across the city, dinner reservations, shopping, a spa package. 

“We want to treat you well. Our baby.” Johnny tapped his fingers under your chin and kissed you lightly on the lips. “And we have another surprise for you too.”

“Oh?” You looked over to Seonghwa. He was staring up at the ceiling, turning his phone over and over in his hands. “Did you two choose a third guy finally?”

In the few weeks that had passed since you’d had them both inside you, you knew they’d been arguing about who to invite into bed. They’d taken your suggestions, made some of their own. Any time one of them decided on someone they wouldn’t mind sharing you with, the other came up with some reason that it wouldn’t work out.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Johnny stood, stretching his arms up over his head. “I should go. Jaehyun already texted me he’s on his way there, and if I’m late because I was here, he’s going to be pissed. See you later.” He kisses you again one last time, and then reaches over to lightly hit Seonghwa to catch his attention. “Later.”

“Later.” Seonghwa mumbles, watching Johnny walk out your bedroom door. 

You roll onto your back and then shuffle over to his side, lay your hand over both of his where he’s still worrying over his phone. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine, just thinking about this weekend.”

“With a frown?” You touch the crease between his eyebrows and it smooths out instantly. “If you’re having doubts about anything....”

“I’m not. Don’t worry.” Seonghwa flips onto his side, raising his head up on his elbow so he can look down at you. He taps his finger against your nose. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, kitten. Just thinking about how after this weekend things might change.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. “Change how?”

Seonghwa’s expression changes to mirror your own, and he sighs, flopping back onto his back. “I don’t know. I like how things are between you and me. I like how things are with Johnny too. I think the three of us have made this whole thing into something really comfortable albeit non-traditional. But what do we call this? Are we just fuckbuddies? Friends with benefits? Are you my....”

“Girlfriend?” You prompt.

Seonghwa nods, once more staring up at the ceiling. “Exactly. And if we start calling it that, then is Johnny that too? Would that make him....”

“Your boyfriend?” You fill in for him again.

Seonghwa groans, raising his hands to his face. “And if we add another guy into our bed this weekend, what then? What does that make all of this? Are we just your sugar daddies, sugaring you with a good weekend, or are we like your pimps, fucking you and inviting another man to come fuck you?”

“I think you’re overthinking everything.” You sit up again, put a hand on his chest over his heart. “You and Johnny are good to me, and I love it. I love having sex with you both, spending time with you both. Any time that you bring me presents or do anything to make me feel special is amazing. If you want me to be your girlfriend, all you have to do is ask. Whenever you’re ready.”

He doesn’t ask then. He doesn’t even say anything else. 

Shortly after that you leave with him to go meet up with San and Mingi, and the subject of your relationship with Seonghwa or with Johnny doesn’t come up again until that weekend.

You meet them at the hotel that weekend. 

It’s shortly after eight o’clock at night when you arrive, already dressed in the presents they’d both delivered to you. A deep burgundy colored dress from Johnny. Heels and jewelry and a coat from Seonghwa. 

The man behind the check-in desk shows you up to the room, and you want to curse at both of your boys the moment you lay eyes on the room. 

A gorgeous suite, overlooking the brilliance of the city at night. There’s a large bed, a spacious bathroom with a huge jacuzzi tub. There’s champagne and roses and the lights are even dimmed to create a romantic moodlighting. 

You leave your bag beside the door, shrug out of your coat, which you hang in the coat closet. 

And it’s then that you hear faint music, light chatter.

You follow the sound of it toward the balcony, and through the sheer curtains you can make out the fuzzy, candlelit glow of a dinner table set with a full meal and dessert, wine and champagne, and both Johnny and Seonghwa are sitting there, dressed just as exquisitely as you are. And they’re not alone.

As you step out onto the balcony, all three of the men look up at you.

Seonghwa smiles, gaze running over the lovely shape of you in that flattering burgundy dress. Johnny bites his lip, consuming you with his eyes as well. 

The third man gapes, before gasping, “Wow, you look stunning. I’m Chris. Chan. Bang Chan.”

You smile. “I know who you are. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Seonghwa smirks. “Take a seat, kitten.” The chair opposite his scoots out from under the table, the tip of Seonghwa’s shiny shoe edging the seat out a bit further. He nods, “Sit.”

You do just that. 

Johnny sits forward, resting his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. “You look beautiful, baby, like a pretty present.”

And you are a present, aren’t you? Wrapped up all nice and pretty for Chan to unwrap. 

The dinner starts off innocent enough. You’d shown up perfectly on time, so the food was all still fresh and warm. The room service cart had been taken away just moments before your arrived. Johnny pops a bottle of champagne, pours a glass for each of you, and then the meal begins, chatting over the dishes the hotel’s chef had made exquisitely. 

The boys tell you all about how they’d approached Chan, how he knew exactly who you were as soon as they began talking about you. And he blushed and buried himself in his drink as soon as Seonghwa began laughing about how eager Chan had been for the opportunity to fall into bed with you. 

“When he heard that you belong to us though, he hesitated a bit.” Seonghwa grins, and you shiver at the feel of his foot knocking your knees apart beneath the table, moving up between your thighs until he strokes you over your panties. “But we all know that no one can pass up on the prospect of touching you, sweetheart. Even when he’s blushing like a virgin with you sitting beside him looking like this.”

And Chan certainly was blushing, now picking at the food on his plate, avoiding looking at you. 

Seonghwa’s foot rubs against you again, and you bite your lip to keep from letting out a breathy noise as you stare across the table at him. His face gives nothing away, he continues eating and drinking, conversing with Johnny and Chan. But then Johnny looks at you, and although he was in the middle of saying something, he hesitates and watches you closer before he slowly turns to Seonghwa, who by this point is also obviously watching you, half-smirking.

When Chan finally turns a curious eye toward you, Johnny clamps a hand on Seonghwa’s thigh, and his foot falls away from you.

You slump in your chair with a sigh and a shiver. 

“Are you cold?” Chan asks, as if noticing for the first time your bare arms prickled by the cold air. Your dress is short as well, the tights beneath doing nothing to keep you warm. “We should go inside, bring the drinks in with us,” he suggests.

You shiver again, more from the way all three of the men are looking at you than just the chill in the air. “Sounds good, Chan.” You brush your hand over his thigh before you push your chair back from the table and stand. 

He looks up at you, and then his gaze falls down over your cleavage and your thighs, the way that the hem of your dress is rucked up just a bit from when you’d spread your legs for Seonghwa’s foot. 

Chan nods, pushes his fingers through his chocolate brown colored hair, and stands as well, gathering his glass and the bottle of champagne in front of him. Johnny and Seonghwa stand as well. Before you can move to follow Chan inside, Johnny grabs you by the waist, drawing you back against his chest, and murmurs low enough that Chan can’t hear, “We want to see you seduce him, baby. Okay? He wants you, but he’s hesitant to show how much he wants you in front of us. Bring that out.”

You nod. 

Inside, it’s definitely warmer and more comfortable. A sofa and two armchairs are set up with a low glass table in between, and that’s where Chan deposits his glass and the bottle. Johnny and Seonghwa bring in the other bottles of wine and champagne. They fall onto the sofa together, leaving one of the stiff-backed chairs for you and the other for Chan.

You pour yourself some wine, toe off your heels, and curl down into the chair with your knees up against yours chest. You know your boys can see your panties on display to them, but you don’t care. They’ll probably just punish you for it later and you can’t wait.

Conversation flows among you, as does the alcohol until you’ve got a really nice buzz going on. Everything feels really nice and pleasantly warm. The glow of candlelight and dimmed lighting really gives everything a romantic vibe. And the way that Johnny and Seonghwa watch your every move, their eyes following you with predatory precision, makes you want to touch yourself.

“Baby, Chan’s glass is empty, why don’t you pour him some more?” Johnny suggests, nodding at the bottle of wine that’s placed nearest to you. 

You push to your feet, wrap your fingers around the neck of the bottle, and take exactly two steps toward Chan before it all goes tits up. 

Your feet tangle together, tripping you up, and you tumble over into Chan’s lap.

“Oops!” You laugh, wiggling a bit to right yourself, but you make no effort to actually remove yourself from his lap. Especially not when you catch a whiff of his cologne. “Mmm, you smell nice.”

Chan smiles in a strained sort of way as you lay your head on his shoulder, your breath against his skin sends a shiver through him, and his hand on your hip tightens. His glass bumps against your knee and you remember what you came over here for, but more than that, now that you’re sitting here in his lap, you remember Johnny’s words to you out on the balcony.

You push upright, sit the bottle on the floor, and switch around to straddle Chan’s lap. 

He gulps, both of his hands gripping your waist as you scoot higher in his lap, feeling the bulge of his cock in his pants. “I think it’s time you stop being so shy about what we’re here for, don’t you?” You brush your fingers through his hair, and Chan rolls his head back with your touch, his eyelids flutter, and his hold on your waist squeezes.

“Mm, yeah.” Chan hums.

You glide your hands down his neck, his shoulders, over his biceps and his chest. “I don’t know if they told you, but when we were trying to think of someone to join us, you were one of the first I thought of. Ages ago. When you talk in that sexy Aussie accent, fuck, it does something to me.”

He swallows hard, and his tongue seems to tie itself in a knot because when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. But then, “Yeah? You want me to talk dirty to you like this?” His accent is laid on rather thickly.

“Please.” You roll your hips subtly against his, and when you brush your lips against his throat, Chan moans. 

You hear Seonghwa whisper something to Johnny. Chan stiffens, as if just now remembering that the other two are there. 

“Can they watch?” You ask, kissing his throat lightly. “They really want to watch. And then I want the three of you to fuck me together.”

You feel him swallow nervously, twisting his head a bit as he turns to look back at Seonghwa and Johnny. You feel their eyes on you, watching and judging. Chan’s hands fall loosely from your waist to instead grip the arms of the chair.

You seat yourself more firmly in his lap, straightening to look at his face, and you let the straps of your dress fall down over your shoulders, and just as easily, the top half of your dress whispers down your chest to gather around your waist. Chan swallows hard as he’s faced with your tits, bare and right there. He quickly stares up at the ceiling, avoiding looking at your chest. So instead, you walk your fingers from his waist up the buttons of his shirt, over his pounding heartbeat until you cup his jaw and draw his gaze to yours.

He swallows hard again and shifts beneath your naked body. Now you can feel him, his bulge growing against your thigh.

“Chan.” You sigh, lowering your head and sinking down to grind lightly over his erection while your mouth hovers right above his. You roll your hips, your nipples brush against his chest, and Chan licks his lips, his warm breath kisses your lips even as you hold back from kissing him. You want him to make the next move. “Chan, touch me. I want you.”

He starts to turn away, to look toward Seonghwa and Johnny, but you put your hands to his jaw, and hold him right there, his lips just an inch below yours. “Forget them. Right now it’s just us, and I want you. I can tell you want me too.” You grind against his erection where it strains the front of his pants. “Wanted me from the first time you saw me, probably. Now here’s your chance, fuck me in front of them, show me that you’re worth the jealousy they’re going to have.”

This time when Chan looks away toward them, there’s a certain fire in his eyes. His hands leave the arms of the chair, slinking back to your waist, to the soft silky fabric of your dress bunched up there.

And then he lurches upward, his mouth crashing into yours. 

Chan kisses angrily, burning with passion. He clutches at your waist, pulling you closer while kissing you with enough force that you curve backwards. You moan and twist your fingers in the loose material at his shoulders, and in response Chan’s fingers span over your ribs, the heat of his fingertips on your bare skin. His touch ranges higher until his thumb traces over your nipple.

You gasp.

“So sensitive, babygirl.” He teases. He kisses down your neck, a trail from your jaw down your chest, and then he sucks your nipple right into his mouth, warm and wet, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. 

If he’d thought you were sensitive before, it was nothing to now. You arch your chest into his touch, a moan spilling from your lips. 

Chan’s other hand slides down, clutching at the skirt of your dress, bunching it up around your waist as well, and his fingers loop in the netting of your tights, slipping inside, tugging until you whine and dip your hips forward against him.

Both of his hands are on your ass before you know it, massaging, slipping between the netting, and when he tugs again, your hear the sound of the netting tearing and stretching apart. He pushes your panties aside as well, dipping two fingertips inside to lightly touch your wet lips while he still sucks at your tit.

You know that with your skirt bunched up around your waist like this, Chan’s fingers teasing against your pussy is fully visible to both of the men seated on the sofa across from you. You twist your head to the side, attempting to get a look at the pair of them, but Chan loosens a hand from your tights and tangles his hand in your hair, bringing you mouth back to his just as his fingers sink inside you.

The sound that leaves you is mostly muffled by Chan’s kiss, but still you know your boys hear you.

Seonghwa groans, and you hear Johnny softly teasing him about getting off to this. 

You want to see that, but more than that, you want what Chan is offering you. His tongue twisting with yours, his fingers plunging inside you, and you move your hips, riding his fingers.

Chan sits back now, leaning back into the chair to watch you fuck yourself on his fingers. “You gonna cum on my fingers, babygirl? Wait til you get my cock.”

And then his fingers are gone, and you sink down, grinding down on nothing, just needing more contact. But Chan lifts his hand to his lips, sucks his fingers glistening with your wetness into his mouth, cleaning them off as he looks you right in the eye.

Gone is the man who could barely look at you during dinner. 

Chan radiates a cocky confidence that turns you on more than anything right then. 

You drop your hips down again, finding his thigh right there to rub your clit against, and desperately you do just that. His fingers fall from his mouth, and you grind on his thigh, capture his face between your hands, and kiss him once more--wet and soft kisses. 

He pinches your nipple, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger.

You cry out, feeling your orgasm mounting within you.

“Ah, no no.” A voice says from right behind you.

Seonghwa’s arm loops around your waist from behind, dragging you backwards off Chan’s lap. 

You whine, attempting to protest. Chan tries to hold you in his lap too, but Seonghwa wins, lifting you up into his arms.

“You know I don’t like to let you cum so easily.” He kisses your cheek sweetly, sitting you back down on your feet. His hands rise to your breasts, covering them with his hands. “And besides, we don’t want you worn out before we’re all three inside you, right? Right, Chan?” Seonghwa turns his eyes on the older man. 

Chan nods. 

“So, to bed, kitten. Go on.” Seonghwa taps his hand against your bottom, drops his arms from around you. You spin around, pull at the bottom of his shirt until Seonghwa begrudgingly leans down to kiss you before nudging you back in the direction of the bed.

You shimmy your dress the rest of the way off, leaving it in a silken pile on the floor. You crawl onto the bed, and when you twist back around onto your bottom, you see all three of them have risen and are standing there, looking at you. 

Chan stands several inches shorter than both of the others, but all three of them have such hungry looks in their eyes for you.

Johnny seems to notice what you have, and as he looks over at Chan, he smirks. He’s the first of them to come forward, striding toward the bed, and as soon as he’s close enough he beckons you get on your belly in front of him. 

Seonghwa and Chan come over then, and you look up at them. Chan strokes your cheek, and you almost lean into his touch until Johnny tugs on your hair. He’s giving Chan a somewhat disapproving look again, looking him up and down before he drops his gaze to you there on your belly, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

“So much for your size kink.” Johnny scoffs.

His words inspire a bit of bite in you, so you sit up a bit, shuffle over just a little bit, and reach for Chan’s waistband. 

“Did you ever think...” You tug his belt loose and tilt your head back so you can see Johnny’s face as you undress the other man. “That maybe it’s not just about the size of the man, but the size of the penis?”

Chan’s pants come undone, and his big, heavy cock pops out into the open air. 

You stare at Johnny as you lean in and kiss the tip of Chan’s cock, as you open your mouth and slip him inside, sucking and then taking him in deeper. You don’t taken your eyes off of Johnny, as if daring him to punish you for this. 

Chan loves it. Moaning and swearing under his breath, he tangles his fingers in your hair, trying to get his cock farther down your throat. 

“He does have a big cock, though. She’s right about that.” Seonghwa murmurs to Johnny. “And I believe that’s rather complimentary to us too.” He touches himself over his pants, and your eyes fall to that motion, and your unspoken wish is granted when, a moment later, Seonghwa drags his shirt over his head and strips off his pants as well, sliding onto the bed behind you.

He strips the tights down your legs, and then when you’re left in just your panties, he gets rid of those for you too. 

Seonghwa dips his fingers inside your drenched pussy for just a moment before he pulls them out again. You whine around Chan’s cock, and Johnny chuckles, settling down on the edge of the bed beside you. You push your hips up, trying to find Seonghwa’s fingers buried inside you once more, but instead he puts both hands on your hips to still you.

You part your thighs wider for him. 

Chan and Johnny both have their eyes focused behind you on Seonghwa even though you’ve got your mouth stuffed full with Chan. He twists his fingers in your hair, helping you keep moving your mouth on him, but he keeps his eyes on your ass.

And then you understand why.

“Fuck, Seonghwa!” You jerk back off of Chan and twist around to be able to see Seonghwa kneeling behind you. His fingers, soaked with your wetness, had just prodded against your asshole, which you’d been totally unprepared for. 

Anal wasn’t something you’d really had too much (or any) experience with before. Sure, you’d talked about it before with Seonghwa. And there had been one adventurous time when you’d been touching yourself while you talked on the phone with him and you’d tried fingering yourself there, but at the time it hadn’t felt quite right to you, just more awkward than anything else, so you’d given it up. 

But that was the limit.

“No?” He asks, freezing and backing off from you.

You bite your lip, considering him and the situation that you’re in. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, you think. To actually have your mouth, your pussy, and your ass filled. But also, you’re not entirely sure that you can handle that big of a thing on top of taking all three of them. Maybe some time, but not this time.

You shake your head. “Not tonight. But if you want to try it, I mean, we can some other time.” 

Seonghwa nods, reaches down to pull you up against him for a kiss, sealing your words with it like a promise. Johnny presses in then as well, fitting himself against your front, ever in competition for your attention with Seonghwa. He kisses up between your breasts, trailing warm kisses up your throat, and he buries his fingers in your hair, edges up against Seonghwa so their cheeks bump, knocking the younger man away so he can claim your lips for his own.

Johnny’s kiss enchants you, pulls you deep under his spell. 

You drop your hand down his body, slip it inside his pants to get your hand around his throbbing length. “Johnny,” you sigh, “I need you. I wanna cum so badly.”

Seonghwa makes a sound from behind you. You feel him dropping away. You break the kiss, turn your head to look at him while Johnny places hot kisses on your jaw. Seonghwa’s on his back, looking up at you twisted in Johnny’s embrace, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his cock. Turning back to Johnny, you catch sight of Chan again.

He’s so hard, his dick swollen and wet and you just want him inside of you. This time pounding away between your legs. 

“Do you want Channie, baby?” Johnny asks. He kisses the corner of your mouth. “You want him in your pussy? Should we let him cum inside you?”

You make a soft mewling noise and Seonghwa’s hand snakes between your legs, dipping just the tips of two of his fingers inside you again. You wiggle your hips, attempting to get him deeper inside you. You want to be fucked, to have them inside of you in some combination, and you’re pretty sure they won’t let Chan cum inside of you since they’re both so possessive over you and they only sometimes allow themselves to cum inside you.

“No, I think not.” Johnny curls his hand against your throat, not actually choking you, but just putting the thought of it right there. “Cumming inside you isn’t for him, is it? Whose right is that?”

“Yours.” You lean into his hand around your neck, liking the pressure.

Seonghwa’s fingers tease back and forth between your folds. “And?”

“And yours, Daddy.” 

“Perfect, kitten.” Seonghwa at last plunges his fingers up into you and you gasp, opening your mouth to Johnny once again. Then Seonghwa hooks his fingers inside you in a strange yet pleasant way so you drop backwards, pressing your back against his chest and looking up at Johnny and Chan.

Seonghwa’s knees press yours apart, and you let them fall to the sides of his, exposing yourself entirely to their eyes. His fingers slip from inside you, and he wipes the dampness on your belly, at which you whine from the loss of him inside you, but he does keep touching you, tracing his fingers over your body--between your breasts, over your nipples, dancing around your throat, and everywhere except where you want him most. 

“Why not let him fuck your pretty pussy, kitten?” Seonghwa asks, his lips pressed to your ear, his fingers stroking over your mound, just shy of touching where you’re so sensitive. You lift your hips to meet each of his strokes, but it does you no good. “Chan hyung should get to fuck you just like half the rest of the male idol’s in the industry?”

When you squirm at that, Seonghwa’s hand at last comes down on your pussy, a slap that makes you go still, your insides quivering in pleasure.

“She’s quite the slut, don’t you know? I won’t tell you everyone else she’s fucked, but,” he tuts, then continues, “Only Johnny and I have been able to tame her even a bit.”

He’s making up stories to paint you as a whore, but at the moment you don’t mind. You like how it makes Chan look at you. You like the way Johnny’s lips curl into a smile, how his fingers flex around his own length. And now Seonghwa at last strokes between your folds, barely doing more than petting you, but just the contact feels so sweet.

“Go on,” Johnny says in a rough voice, and when you look up at him, he’s looking at Chan. “She’s not fucked nearly as many guys as Hwa would have you believe, but she has been naughty. Tempting the previous two guys into her bed instead of into ours. But make no mistake, she’s ours.” Johnny’s tone is deep, possessive, and it sends a shiver through you. He then sits to the side again, making way for Chan to come forward.

He finally strips out of his shirt and pants, fumbling a bit when they tangle around his legs, but then he’s right there, kneeling between your legs and Seonghwa’s.

“Don’t forget a condom.” Johnny suddenly produces one from somewhere, holding it out to Chan. 

He bites his lip as he tears it open and rolls it on. 

“Chan.” You pout and reach for him to ask, “Kiss?”

Chan gives you that, bending over you to plant a kiss upon your lips, and you feel the thick head of his dick kissing against your lower lips. But he stops there, looking past you, then closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Can we rearrange? I feel like I’m fucking Seonghwa in this position.” He gestures vaguely at Seonghwa, who you feel brush his lips against your hair then. “Besides, babygirl, I’ve had a fantasy ever since the first time I saw you at work.”

“Yeah?” You run your hand up his chest, sitting up as he shifts back. Seonghwa grabs for your hips, but Chan sneakily pushes Seonghwa’s hands away. You just lock your gaze on Chan’s. “What’s the fantasy?”

Seonghwa nearly growls possessively. He kisses the nape of your neck, brushes your hair over one shoulder. 

“First time I saw you, you were cleaning up a mess Jeongin made in our waiting room. That wasn’t your job, and we all knew it, and I was about to go take over from you, but fuck you were wearing a skirt that day. A tight pencil skirt, which normally I wouldn’t find so sexy, but you were all bent over, your ass looked so perfect, and all I could think about was bending you over and fucking you. You looked so sweet and innocent when I did go talk to you, and I felt bad what I’d thought, but I couldn’t stop.”

“You want me on my hands and knees, Chan?” You start to turn over. “You want me to beg for you? Please, daddy.”

Seonghwa grabs your arm before you can make another move. “No.”

Chan, on the other hand, smirks, grabs your hips and manhandles you onto your hands and knees, facing Seonghwa now. “I like the sound of that. Say it again.”

You look Seonghwa straight in the eye as Chan’s cock fills you again, and you moan, “Right there, daddy.” 

Chan’s hands slide to your waist, pressing your back into an arch, your ass sinking back against him, but his next thrust bounces you forward again, and Chan keeps it up like that. Each bounce gets a moan from you, a slap against your ass gets him another whine of daddy.

“Careful, Channie,” Johnny laughs. “You’re going to make Seonghwa mad. He likes her to call him Daddy, and our sweet girl can’t have two daddies now can she? And don’t get too bossy or rough. You’re not in control. We are. And you don’t get to have her all to yourself either. Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa looks away from your face, snapping his attention to Johnny’s call. 

“Scoot down the bed. You’re gonna fuck her too.” Johnny says before he comes around to your face. “You want that, baby? To have both of them in you and me in your throat. I know how much you love sucking my cock.”

“I do, Johnny. Please.” 

Neither Chan or Seonghwa dares to disobey Johnny, so a quick shuffle of rearrangement, and then Seonghwa’s cock is pressing up beside Chan’s in your dripping pussy. Your hands grip Seonghwa’s shoulders as they both move inside you, each gasp has the look of hunger in Seonghwa’s eyes growing. He grits his teeth when you moan a sweet-sounding daddy, have I been good enough for you? and a quiet plea as you bow your head down beside his of can I cum now? 

Johnny laces his fingers in your hair, pulls your mouth up from beside Seonghwa’s ear, and you drop your mouth open. 

Sucking Johnny off is just as good as it always is. His low moan as he sinks into the tight heat of your mouth. The feel of him stretching your lips, filling your throat. 

It’s silly how right then, with Bang Chan pounding into you from behind, Seonghwa thrusting up from beneath you, and your lips all the way down to Johnny’s base, you realize that you just might be in love.

In love with Johnny. In love with Seonghwa. 

Chan’s a lovely guy, but right now he’s just an extra cock, giving you your pleasure. 

The friction of their cocks inside you is strange and insane, especially when each thrust impales your throat on Johnny. The suite is filled with the sounds of moans, skin slapping skin, you gagging and whining and the sweet smack of Seonghwa’s lips on your breasts, a wet suck that has your toes curling, your body shuddering with pleasure. 

“Not yet, kitten.” Seonghwa murmurs against your soft chest. “Hold off for us.”

You moan louder, and Johnny swears, stroking your hair to get you back off his dick a bit. You gag as he pulls you off, but you swallow even as you feel the saliva dripping from your lips and chin. 

“Seonghwa--Daddy, please.” You roll your hips back on him and Chan.

Your orgasm is a tight knot in your belly, the stretch of Chan’s thick penis hitting all the right spots as he rocks into you. Seonghwa presses deeper with his thrusts, and you feel like you’re teetering right on the edge of it all.

Full of desperation for it, you work your pussy back on the two of them.

“Shit, babygirl, I’m gonna cum.” Chan groans from behind you, a hand slipping under your waist, fingers dragging over your belly, and then he’s spilling into the condom.

Seonghwa kisses your neck, his fingers dipping beneath you to your clit, and then when Chan’s dick goes soft and he pulls out of you to tie off the condom and flop onto his side, Seonghwa rolls you over beneath him quickly. You loop your arms around his neck and shoulders. He cups your jaw, crushes his lips to yours. 

The way he kisses you, rolls his body against yours, it doesn’t feel like you’re just fucking anymore. Seonghwa wants you. There’s a gentle intensity to this, a pure desire rather than the raw fucking that you’re used to from him. His words from a few days ago return to you, about the possibility of you being his girlfriend.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” Seonghwa asks, kissing the words against your lips. He grinds into you, sending warm electric zings of pleasure jolting through you. “Are you going to cum on my cock, for Johnny and Chan to see? You look so pretty right now, kitten.” His lips brush yours with every word, and his warm hand is pressed between your bodies, his thumb circling your nipple.

You moan his name, and when he presses his lips to yours again, he tells you, “Cum, sweetheart.”

It takes nothing more than just his words.

“Shit, that’s really fucking hot.” Chan moans, his eyes on you as your body succumbs to your orgasm. 

“She is, isn’t she?” Johnny strokes your hair. “Very hot. My girl.”

Seonghwa keeps fucking into you, but that doesn’t stop Johnny from sinking down beside you, stealing your lips from Seonghwa. His hard cock rests against your hip, a slow grind as he kisses you, reaching between your body and Seonghwa’s to touch your clit.

“Want you too,” you tell him. “Johnny, I wanna make you feel just as good.”

“Good.” He presses against your hip again, and then he pushes at your hip with his hand, tipping you and Seonghwa over onto your side. Johnny lifts your leg up and then rocks forward, his tip nudging against Seonghwa’s dick where he enters you.

Then they’re both inside you, your gut curling with pleasure. Johnny moans, wrapping a hand over your hip and the other pulls your hair. Your head is jerked backwards, exposing your throat for Seonghwa to attack, and Johnny claims your lips for his.  

Once again, the feeling of having them both inside you is such a pleasurable situation, being completely under their thrall.

Although you can feel Chan’s eyes on the three of you, you know that you fully belong to them. You’re theirs. No one else’s.

They drive their hips forward, crashing inside you, and another orgasm liquefies you. You pull your mouth away from Johnny’s kiss to moan for them, clenching tight around them inside you, each pump of them makes it more intense and then there are tears streaming down your cheeks. Seonghwa laughs and moans, kisses your cheeks to taste your tears. 

He cums then, and Johnny lets out a deep-chested moan then as he feels Seonghwa’s hot seed filling you and coating his cock as he keeps fucking into you from behind. Seonghwa slips away, leaving you just at the mercy of Johnny’s mind-blowing cock.

Johnny holds firmly onto your hips then. He doesn’t hold back now, fucking you so intensely and roughly that another orgasm tears through you, almost painfully so soon after the last one. You twist and writhe in his arms, crying out but not wanting to push him away because it hurts so good. 

He presses you into the bed, the heels of his hands digging against your tailbone. Seonghwa’s cum squishes out of you with each of Johnny’s thrusts.

“Daddy,” you whine, and reach for Seonghwa. He’s still catching his breath, but he scoots closer. He can’t very well kiss you with the way that your face is pressed into the mattress, but he cups your cheek and sits his face close to yours. Then he looks up at Johnny.

You watch his eyes go wide and starry. Johnny grunts and thrusts in harshly.

When Seonghwa props himself up on his elbows, you don’t know what to expect. You twist just enough that you can see the moment when Seonghwa knocks his lips against Johnny’s.

It’s not a kiss, not really. It catches both of them somewhat by surprise. 

Johnny jerks back, and Seonghwa falls away looking rejected. But you can feel the way Johnny’s cock took an interest. He twitches inside you, then spills his load, fucking it deep into you. And then he pulls out, and you feel it all leaking out as you clench around nothing.

You moan, pleased at the feeling. So warm. Sticky and gooey and lovely. 

Somewhere in the room you hear your moan echoed in a deeper voice.

“Look at him,” Seonghwa’s voice takes on a teasing lilt. “Channie-hyung jerking off watching Johnny and I fill your pussy up with our cum. Are you gonna get off to that, huh?” 

You move over to lay your head on Seonghwa’s chest, watching Chan as he tugs at his cock. He bites harshly at his bottom lip, moaning out and swearing in a muffled way, before his hips lift from the bed into his circled fingers. He spurts over his belly this time. Johnny taps at your hip, and then you push upright, crawling over Seonghwa until you’re over Chan. You lower your head to his stomach to clean up his cum, kissing and licking it up.

Chan puts a hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair until your tongue runs across his belly one last time.

You roll off to the side again.

Chan sits up, messes his fingers through his hair and looks around. Johnny has Seonghwa tucked back against his chest, both of them watching you and Chan, gazes riveted when Chan reaches down to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding your lips to his in a final kiss.

You can feel the cum sliding out of you even more unpleasantly at this angle, and you wrinkle your nose and groan. The mattress shifts behind you, and when Chan pulls back from the kiss, stepping onto the floor, you notice Johnny’s figure moving across the hotel suite to the bathroom.

You sink back onto your back.

“So how was it?” Seonghwa asks. At first you can’t tell if he’s addressing you or Chan, but it’s the other man who answers him.

“Really good. Mostly. Never been dick to dick with another guy before.” Chan admits in a strange voice, slipping his pants back up his legs. “Weird feeling that.”

Seonghwa smirks, rolls onto his belly and folds his arms under the pillow. “Not so strange really. It’s definitely not gay, if that’s what you’re worried about, hyung. Especially since we were wrapped in her.” But you think about that brief kiss he’d shared with Johnny; that had certainly made everything that the three of you did slightly less purely heterosexual.

Johnny comes back then, wiping himself down with a damp cloth from the bathroom. Water droplets trickle down his chest, over his abs, reflecting in an enticing way. When he’s close enough, he wads it up and tosses it at Seonghwa. “Clean up, Seonghwa. Bang Chan, don’t go around telling people about this.”

“Right,” Chan laughs. “As if I’m gonna go back to my dorm and tell them, yeah, sorry I’m late getting back tonight. I just had a foursome with NCT’s Johnny and Ateez’s Seonghwa and that hot staff member from--”

Johnny rolls his shoulders and lets his head fall around in an attempt at relaxation. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay? She’s not really the studio’s slut, Seonghwa’s full of shit. And don’t think this is going to happen again either.”

“I know. I get it.” Chan nods. “She’s yours. No offense, sweetheart, I had a great time, but I definitely get the feeling that you were much more into them and I was just another dick to plug you up. That’s fine. I haven’t gotten to fuck a pretty girl in a while. And the next time, I hope it’ll be a girl who’s satisfied with having just me.”

He smiles at you before he slips his shirt on, steps into his shoes, and searches around for his jacket. 

You did have fun with him, you liked pleasing him, but you know what he means. It felt a bit empty to have him there. You have Johnny and Seonghwa. That’s more than enough truly. Especially once you realized how you felt, how much you enjoyed just having them pure and raw with you. 

Seonghwa gently wipes between your legs and across your belly with the cloth. You shiver, feeling sensitive, and Seonghwa laughs and does it again. You swat at his arm and try to roll away from him, but he curls an arm around your waist and presses an apologetic kiss to your shoulder.

You look back up to see Johnny and Chan watching. 

“I did have fun Chan. Thank you for coming tonight.”

“For cumming twice.” Seonghwa mumbles, wrapping his arms tighter around you, and his teeth scrape over your shoulder.

You smile. “I’ll see you around.”

He nods, smiling as Seonghwa rolls you over under him again. “See you around.”

Johnny follows him over to the door, and you hear the quiet sound of him locking and latching it behind Chan. And then he comes back to you and Seonghwa, stands there looking down at the pair of you with his hands on his hips, still bare as the day he was born.

You’re leaning up against the pillows propped against the headboard. Seonghwa’s rolled onto his back, holding the remote control for the TV in his hand. 

“Well?” You raise an eyebrow at Johnny, spread your legs invitingly. “What are you waiting for?”

He mirrors your expression then shakes his head and walks back over to the small sitting area. He scoops up one of the remaining bottles and brings it back into the bed. It’s half empty, so he doesn’t have to worry about risking spilling it on the sheets as he crawls in and lays back against your chest, fitting snugly between your legs.

Seonghwa flips through channels on the TV until he finds something. Johnny passes the bottle back and forth between the three of you. You rest one hand on Johnny’s chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm; the other hand you rest in Seonghwa’s hair, combing your fingers through it and massaging your fingers across his scalp.

When the bottle’s empty, Johnny leaves bed again. You take that chance to slide under the covers, and when he comes back, he settles beside you and guides your head to his shoulder. The room’s quiet, the TV’s volume turned almost all the way down, but the silence doesn’t last so long.

“No more of this, right?” Johnny asks, his voice rumbling under your ear. “Just us now?”

You nod. “Just me and you and Seonghwa.”

His heart thuds faster. Seonghwa clears his throat behind you, shifting around until Johnny asks, “Seonghwa, about what happened earlier....”

You glance over at him, and he’s staring down at his hands. “It was nothing, just a spur of the moment impulse. Kissing you is just not what this is about, right? We’re both here just for her.”

“Are we? I think you at least like it when I tell you what to do in bed. You like hearing about what she and I do together, but you hate hearing about her and any of the other guys she’s messed around with.” Johnny sounds sure of himself. “And when you kissed me, man, it seemed like you wanted it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say then, reaching for Seonghwa. “Remember what we talked about the other day? About things changing after this weekend. They don’t have to change.”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny asks. He looks between you and Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa groans and pushes his face into the pillow. 

You make the choice to explain. “The other day Seonghwa was telling me he was worried that doing this was going to change things. He said he liked where we’re at with the three of us, but it’s not like we’ve really put a name to what we’re doing.”

Johnny frowns at that. “I’ve been calling you my girlfriend when I talk about you to the guys for a while. Like, I love you. I spend almost all of my free time with you. Is that not what we are?”

“Yeah, I mean. That’s what he was saying sort of. Like, am I his girlfriend? If I’m his girlfriend, if I’m your girlfriend, then what does that make the two of you to each other?”

Seonghwa makes another muffled noise into the pillow.

“My boyfriend,” Johnny answers simply. “You’re my girlfriend, he’s my boyfriend. Especially if he wants to do more than just share you. You wanna make out, Seonghwa? I’m game. I think when we’ve been sharing our girlfriend for months, when we got a hotel room together to pamper her, when we make plans together with the intent of romance at the end, we’re close enough to dating to consider each other like a boyfriend.”

“Good. Now you’re both officially mine.” You shrink down between the covers, happy and very pleased with how things have gone.

“Excuse me?” Johnny laughs. “We’re yours? I think you have it the wrong way round, baby. You’re mine, remember?” He slides down and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you between his broad arms.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Johnny.” Seonghwa yawns. “She’s got both of us wrapped around her little fingers. We’re hers no matter what.”

You nod and squirm into a comfortable spot, close your eyes, but before you can actually attempt to fall asleep like that, Seonghwa stops you.

“You can’t just fall asleep, sweetheart.” He strokes your cheek. “Go pee. Get a drink of water, then come back to sleep.”

You whine, but you sleepily roll over him and go to the bathroom. You know he’s right. You don’t want a UTI or anything like that. Trust Seonghwa to make sure you do what you’re supposed to. You do all that, and then clamber over him and squirm into the space between your two boyfriends.

Johnny’s already fallen asleep, his hand tucked beneath Seonghwa’s cheek sweetly. Seonghwa is watching Johnny’s face when you put yourself between them, and then he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers. His eyes shimmer, flicking between your lips and your eyes. 

“And I love you.” Your fingers twist with his. He brings your joined hands to his lips, so gentle. “Now sleep. We have plans tomorrow don’t we?”

Seonghwa nods, yawns again, and he drops your joined hands back to the bed, but he doesn’t let go. 

You fall asleep like that soon after.

And in the morning you wake twisted between the pair of them. Hot and close but you wouldn’t have it any other way. A sticky honey-golden sunrise fills the room with sweet morning light, revealing all the shapes and shadows of the three of you blending together into one great lovely knot beneath the sheets.

a/n: I have mixed feelings about how I ended this, but I think (I hope) it’s good enough. Originally, I’d always wanted Minghao to be the third guy, but after that twitter poll, y’all changed my mind to Bang Chan and also Changkyun, and then I was talking to @vernon-van-chwe​ about this story idea and there came the ideo of Wooseok and Chanyeol as other large idols, and I considered having y/n just sleep with all of them, sometimes with johnhwa sometimes without, maybe even a female idol or two, but that would’ve been a massive undertaking, so in the end this is what was created

I hope, if you read the whole thing, you were satisfied with it. Please, let me know what you thought. Likes, reblogs, comments, they’re all always appreciated 💗

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 16

Catch up!

So, this was skinny dipping

Word count: 20k+

Rushing down the stairs was a bad idea. I knew it as soon as I stepped down into the living room. I could feel pain taking over my body and rising up my spine, and my muscles screamed at me to stop, to just give up. It wasn’t like Harry was looking for me. He hadn’t even left the room, he had let me walk away from him.

And I didn’t know if the void in my chest was because I didn’t care, or because I cared too much. It was a new kind of pain that weighed on my limbs and made my body feel heavy, and as if even breathing drained my energy. My chest burned, feeling tighter with every new breath, and I felt as if everyone around me was looking at me, pointing their fingers and watching as I had a slow meltdown. 

For a second, I thought about giving in and sitting there on the floor so I could cry all of my feelings out. I didn’t need them or had any use for them, no one to pour them out for. Sam was just confused. Harry certainly didn’t give a fuck. Maybe then, I would remember that I was just fine all by myself. And I would remember that love sucked, any-fucking-way. 

“There you are!” If only I had noticed a second before, I would’ve been able to hide, but before I knew, Diana had popped out of nowhere, and she was already making me follow her through the room, as she made her way to the pool, where the lights were brighter, and the air was cleaner. D was wearing a simple blue dress and a leather jacket, and her long blonde hair was thrown into a messy bun. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and Jesus Christ, she didn’t need it. She looked fucking gorgeous. A tiny little fairy that would bite you if you got too close. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where were you?” She asked accusingly but waved her hand dismissively before I had a chance to answer. “Y’know what? I don’t need to know. C’mon, we need to take photos for the ‘gram.” 

Usually, I would hastily pull my hand away, and roll my eyes at her so she would notice (and ignore) my annoyance, but this time, I followed meekly. Her touch felt so real, and everything else was so blurry and faded, it was almost comforting. Her hand was small and she had her nails painted a greenish-blue and I made a mental note to ask her for the shade name. 

“Are you ok?” She asked as we came to a halt, and she looked at me expectantly with those huge eyes of hers. And I considered telling the truth, I did. I considered telling her that I felt like my heart had crippled into a tiny ball and that I had a sudden, panicky and crushing feeling that I was destined to live without really knowing what it was like to be loved. But that seemed like the kind of conversation that I would rather not have. Ever. 

“Yes,“ I replied, squeezing her fingers lightly between mine, and trying to be reassuring and believable. It seemed like I had failed, cause she glared at me for a second, and opened her mouth as if she was ready to say something. She sighed, and whatever it was that she was to say hung in the air heavily. “Please, don’t say ‘gram,” I joked, as I resisted the urge to swat the air to dissipate the silence that was screaming at me. 

“I’ll think about it,” Diana smiled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, and I relaxed as a result. I was safe. “Now, pose.”

“Say please…” I teased. 

“Oh, fuck off…” That was all I got. 

I hated taking photos, there was always something to criticize, I always had to think about my smile, my hair, my left cheek which was considerably bigger than my right one and it was only noticeable in pictures. But I did as I was told, and smiled brightly at the camera when I was instructed to do so. What was the point in fighting it anyway? It was easier to sell the dream, I had a lot more to gain from it. I was a happy girl, in the middle of a party to celebrate her boyfriend, Harry Fucking Styles. This girl had her head in the clouds. 

“Good, I think I have it. Y’know what? We should go look for Harry so we can take a few with him. Do you think he’ll be up for that?” It was a good thing that Diana was distracted looking at the photos, cause then she couldn’t notice the sheer panic that crossed my face at the mention of Harry’s name.

No, let’s not look for him. 

If I saw Harry, if I spoke to him, I was going to cry, or worse, I was probably going to beg. The idea alone cut my ego like a knife. But most importantly, I already suspected what the answer was going to be, and I didn’t feel like hearing it.  

Funny enough, we both saw him at the same time. He had changed into a buttoned-down shirt and high-waisted pants, and my heart stopped as he looked in my direction, towering over the room from the middle of the stairs. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, but my knees wobbled a bit at the sight of him. Anxiety took over my body and I kept looking at both Harry and Diana, just to see if she would notice if I just ran away. 

“There he is! Jesus, you two are impossible tonight,” D exclaimed, as she started to make her way to him. I bet she didn’t expect me to grab her briskly and pull her back to me, which made her topple on her feet because her eyes went wild and a little bit murderous when she looked at me. “What?” She spat and at that very moment, I realized that I didn’t have a plan, and if I did, I had only gotten to the first part: getting the fuck out of that house. So I smiled stupidly at her, wishing that my brain worked faster. 

“I’m...I’m hungry, D…” I said. Someone had grabbed Harry for a chat, which probably gave me seconds. I had seconds to leave that house. “I want a milkshake. Can we go get one?”

“You’re on a diet, of course not,” Diana said, and she turned back around, ready to go look for Harry. But I was insistent, and my fingers wouldn’t let go of her arm, keeping her right where she was. 

‘You can lose a pound or two’ were the exact words that the producers had used before they sent me to the most in-demand trainer in the city. So sugar was out and lifting weights, doing 100 squats a day and jumping jacks were in.  

“Then, a burger,” I offered brightly. “I can ask for lettuce instead of bread!”

“You can’t eat meat, S. It makes you all bloated and you know it. What’s going on??”

I was willing to risk it. 

“Nothing, I’m just hungry,” I scowled. It didn’t matter anyway, cause I had lost my chance to leave with some of my pride still intact.

Harry seemed tired and pissed, I could feel the intense waves that rolled off his body as he looked at me. The hinges of his jaw popped up, he was clenching his teeth so hard. A chill ran down my spine and I struggled to look away from him. So our eyes met and I felt myself getting paralyzed as I looked at him getting closer to me. 

I was fully aware that I was an insufferable idiot and that nothing was going to happen. Nor Harry Styles, the singer, or Sofia Welsh-De La Rosa, the actress, could afford the scandal or the unbridled media attention. No, we preferred to control the narrative, it made us look like we had our lives together. So we would simply end the night with smiles and heart eyes on our faces, to Diana, Midge, and Jeff’s delight, and go our separate merry ways as soon as we could.

If he needed me, he could call Diana, and if I needed him...well, I was going to do everything in my power to not need him. 

I took a deep breath to steady myself and repeated mentally that everything was ok. I just needed to play the role, cause that was what everyone was expecting from me: To play the role I had been hired for. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that and I was the only one to blame. There was nothing more, even the nights I had spent in his bed meant nothing. I was filling empty spaces, taking a place so it wouldn’t go cold. His sweet words were meant for another girl. His touch just meant to keep him occupied. And I was playing a role, nothing more. 

So, I breathed out and smiled brightly at him, as brightly as the hole in my chest would allow. I had to remember that Harry’s girlfriend was not heartbroken, she didn’t feel the need to cry cause she had gotten her stupid hopes up. She was happy and she was loved by the man in front of her. Everything was right in her world. 

“Hi,” I whispered as Harry stood next to me, and I leaned to him, brushing my lips against his cheek. His breath was sharp and shallow and I could feel it fawning over my skin when he looked at me. It made the little hairs on the nape of my neck stand at attention. Silly me, it almost seemed as if he wanted to kiss me. 

“Can we talk?” He asked in the same whispering tone.

“No.”

“Sof…” Harry sighed, and I chose to ignore him, still smiling at him, which probably frustrated him to no end. 

“D wants to take photos of us. Do you mind?” I asked instead. 

Diana seemed like she didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it, and she cleared her throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but us. It was unlike her, because under normal circumstances, she would be tapping her foot, and crossing her arms over her chest as she impatiently pushed us into place. Right now, she stood there, looking at us and doing nothing of the sort. 

“Well, I, uh, I thought maybe I could take some pictures of you guys acting like a couple, like candids, but, uh, we don’t have to do that,” She said. “But it’s ok if you don’t want to. It seems like you guys have stuff to deal with.”

“I don’t want to,” Harry confirmed. “And Sof, please, let’s talk.”

“We’re good, Harry. We have nothing to talk about,” I said and mentally patted myself on my back for not letting my voice wobble. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t look so happy, not even as I smiled adoringly and sweetly at him. His angry stance was coming back, the kind of anger that bubbles under your skin and waits for the right moment to explode. So I was careful as I looped my arms around his neck, and swayed a bit, my eyes focusing on the small freckle next to his lip. If I leaned closer just an inch, I could kiss it. I could kiss him, slowly and sweetly. 

My knees wobbled again when Harry looked at me. 

Being so close to him was not a good idea, cause he smelled sweet and clean, and his blue shirt was soft to the touch, and for a second there, I pictured myself wearing it wide open, with only a pair of pink lace panties, while I lied on his bed. He would hover over me, pressing kisses on my supple skin as he settled himself between my legs. 

Stop. 

“Then, let me talk.”

His fingers burned little holes on my skin wherever he touched me, and I struggled to pull myself back to reality. I had nowhere to go to, he was all-encompassing, all I could breathe and see. 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Harry. I just want something to show on my Instagram feed, keep people talking.”

“Why would we do that?” Harry’s smile was sad as if he already knew the answer and he didn’t like it, not one bit. 

“Cause that’s how PR relationships work. You need promo, and so do I, so why not?”

“Don’t say that…”

“Oh, I wasn’t the one that said it.”

“Sof…”

“It’s ok. I’m not mad.” As the words rolled off my tongue, I knew I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t mad, I was something else. “But I get it if you don’t want to. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your girlfriend. So maybe I should go.”

“Don’t.”

“And maybe we should keep this as professional as we can. If you need me, you should call Diana. And, uh, yeah, I need to go.” The air was faltering, and I was not going to be able to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down.

I noticed that Diana stopped Harry from following me, which I was incredibly thankful for. I rushed through the room, and barely made it out and into my car before the panic came. 

It was alright. Everything was just fine. 

****

Sofia Welsh died alone, leaving behind 4 ex-spouses, no kids, and 4 cats she was allergic to, Eeny, Meeny, Miney and Mo. The time and manner of her death remain unknown. A neighbor called the police after the stench coming from her house became unbearable. The myth about her cats eating her face was just that, a myth...

I was going to be a tragic story from Hollywood, wasn’t I? Ryan Murphy would lick his fingers just thinking about it. 

****

@H

Baby, are you ok?

****

@H

Sof, I’m worried, please answer. 

****

@D

Are you ok?

Please let me know if I should reschedule your training this week. 

****

@H

I know you’re mad and it’s my fault, but I can explain

Can I go to your house? It feels like you’ve never told me if I’m allowed to. 

****

@Midge

Let’s talk about your idea of going back to college. I think we can get you into a really good one if you’d like. 

Did you like the car I sent you? You haven’t said anything about it. 

****

@D

Where are you?

****

@Sam

Wanna hang out? I'm bored…

Pizza and Hocus Pocus? It is October after all.

****

@Midge

Fenty wants you for their new underwear campaign. I think it’s a good move. Let’s chat on Friday, lunch’s on me. 

****

@D

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, SOFIA? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

DO NOT MAKE ME GO TO YOU HOUSE LOOKING FOR YOU

CAUSE I WILL

****

@Sam

I just called Cat, she told me you haven’t left your room in days, are you ok?

****

@H

I know it’s late, but I can’t fucking sleep until I talk to you.

****

Good, I couldn’t sleep either. 

I wasn’t even sad, I didn’t feel a fucking thing, but in the worst way possible, where everything hurts, but you just cannot point to what hurts the most, so I was stuck there, suffocating and gasping for air like a fucking dying fish.

I kept watching Schitt’s Creek reruns. The colors from the tv show kept blending in and I looked at it for the first time in a while, wondering how many episodes I had “watched” by now. Mostly, I had been staring at the wall, as I tried to be good and quiet, so slumber would finally come to me. And it did, a few times actually, only to be chased off by the dizzying nightmares. 

I knew I had fallen asleep cause sometimes, when I opened my eyes there was food on my bedside table, a steaming bowl of soup, mac and cheese (no milk, no butter, not too much cheese), broccoli and carrots with chicken and hummus, and every other dish that my nutritionist had previously approved. One time there was even a piece of oreo cheesecake, with the gooey chocolate sauce tempting me to eat it right away. Maybe with a scoop of ice cream. 

I didn’t know if I had eaten any of it. I probably hadn’t. 

4 days without sleep can do mean things to your brain. 

***

Sam could read my thoughts, I was sure of it. 

I opened the door to my room and smiled when I saw him, with his boyish smile that made his eyes crinkle and the stupidly deep dimples on his cheek, standing in front of me. He was wearing a nice button-down shirt, black jeans, and a pair of Air Jordans I had gotten him for his birthday, thinking he looked fly as hell. I still thought they were the ugliest shoes I had ever seen, but Sam seemed to love them. He was holding a medium-sized tube of ice cream, and a plate of freshly done and gooey dark chocolate brownies, my favorites. But it was late, and I probably shouldn’t eat any of it if I wanted to have even the smallest chance of sleeping that night

“Hey,” he whispered and I stepped to the side to let him and closed the door behind him.

“You do know I’m on a diet, right?” I asked him. Sam was already taking his shoes off and propping his feet on my bed, to make himself comfortable. 

“We don’t need to tell anyone.”

“So, the calories won’t count?”

“Of course not. They only count if you worry about them.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works.” The corner of my lips twisted into a smile and I made my way to sit on my side of the bed. There was a large space between us, and we both settled on, lying on a sea of pillows. Sam put his hands over his tummy and I could see them rising every time he breathed deeply. 

We stayed quiet for a while, while Sam looked for the exact movie he wanted. When he landed on Hocus Pocus, a childish grin curled up his lips and he turned to me as if he was waiting for me to approve his choice. We had watched Hocus Pocus at least 1,000 times since we were kids, just as we had watched every Halloween themed choice ever since, a tradition that we now shared with my mom and Cat.  

“You look handsome,” I told him. The smell of the brownies made my tummy grumble and I finally caved in, picking the corner of it to eat it. It was still warm, and the outside was crunchy, while the inside was gooey and soft. 

“I was supposed to have dinner with Annie.”

“Oh, what happened?” I asked, pretending that it didn’t bother me. It shouldn’t bother me. But sadness fluttered in my tummy and there was nothing I could do to stop it or understand it. 

“You didn’t answer my texts.” Sam turned to me, with a sheepish smile already on his face. “And Diana called me to ask if I had seen you, so I guessed it was serious and came to check on you.”

“Oh...I’m sorry…”

“It’s ok, Sof. At least, I wasn’t the only one you were ignoring this time.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t ignoring you, Sam.”

“Yeah, you were, but it’s alright. I’m guessing I should figure out the answer all by myself.”

“Sam, I…”

I didn’t know what I was going to say. I just started letting the words out of my lips before I could form an actual answer in my brain. But before I could do that, a crashing sound cut me off, and I was up on my feet even before the echo stopped ringing in the air. Sam followed me, running down the stairs just as fast as I was.

Anxiety had my brain working as fast as it could go, and the worst scenarios flashed in front of my eyes: fire, burglars, floodings, and even a tornado, they all took over my brain for a microsecond. So when we finally got to the end of the stairs, I thought my brain was maybe playing tricks on me. 

Harry was crouched on the floor, as he picked up the shards of a green mug. A dark liquid had spilled all over, and Cat was looking down at him, as red as she could get, while my mom muttered rushed excuses to the boy in front of her, helping him get the broken pieces before someone could get hurt.

“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to do this,” she assured him, but he just shook his head and smiled, that dashing, fucking pretty smile of his, and handed her the pieces he had collected. “It’s alright,” he said, and I felt my knees wobble at the sound of his voice. It was just as sweet and soothing as I remembered it. “It was my fault anyway, I startled Cat.”

What the fuck was going on?

“Oh, honey, there you are!!” my mom exclaimed as she finally noticed my presence. She was standing next to Harry, wearing a bright yellow cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of black leggings. Her hair was in one of Cat’s braids, a perfect crown around her head. She seemed happy, her cheeks were a little bit flushed and she looked at Harry with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Look who’s here to see you,” my mom said, almost teasingly. “I was about to call you, but Cat had a little accident.”

The culprit was standing by my mom’s side, as quiet as she could be. Her face was still crimson red, and she was looking down at the floor, unwilling to look at us, especially at Harry. Cat was no longer a kid, she was getting as tall as my mom, and she even used some of my clothes, a full teen among us. But it was as if she wanted to make herself as small as she possibly could right now. 

“It was my fault,” Harry mumbled, but his mind was elsewhere. It was on Sam and me, and the fact that we had come down the stairs together, that it was so late at night and I was just wearing pajama shorts and a loose crop top. Any other time, I would have ventured to say that he was jealous. 

“So, Sam, darling, come with me, help me with dessert,” My mom called and Sam obeyed meekly. “I’m guessing you’re staying for dinner, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother…” Harry smiled at my mom and she beamed right back before she looked at me pointedly. I knew exactly what I was supposed to say. 

“You won’t,” I said to her delight. “It’ll be a pleasure,” I added, just for kicks. Harry smiled at Cat and my mom and excused himself before he followed me upstairs. 

“What do you want?” I asked him as soon as we reached my room and we were out of earshot from my family. 

I had never pictured Harry standing in my room, with his graphic t-shirt and his blue jeans. But there he was, gazing around my pink duvet and lavender pillowcases. He looked at the photo on my nightstand, a picture of my mom, Cat, and I, with the Eiffel Tower shining tall behind us. I had taken us to Paris as soon as I had the money to, and we walked around like crazy, pigged out on overpriced macaroons in a fancy store on Champs Elysées, and got back to our fancy hotel rooms completely knackered every night, with our feet swollen from how much we had walked. My dad had taken us to Paris before, but this time we did it as free women...and Cat. I fucking loved that photo. 

“I was worried,” Harry said.

“You didn’t have to worry.”

“You don’t worry because you have to, you worry because you fucking do,” he shrugged. “And you didn’t answer my texts or calls. And I get you’re ignoring me, but…I just wanted to make sure that you were ok.”

“I’m fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest and sat on my bed, refusing to look at him, with that sweet smile of his, and the concerned frown that formed on his forehead. He had no fucking business looking like that. He had no right to make me feel so much. 

“I’m sorry I interrupted your date.”

“It’s ok,” I replied. I didn’t feel like correcting him, because if I did, I might have to accept the fact that I had spent my days weeping about losing him, and that was not necessary at all.

“But uh, D told me we should set a date to end things. I figured I should talk to you first.” 

Set a date. Oh.

I knew that was the logical step to take, so we could move on with our lives. That way Harry could go back to her, and I...well, I could go back to whatever the fuck I was doing before. Setting a date just made it real. 

The smart part of my brain knew that my heart couldn’t break, it couldn’t do that, not out of love. But still, I could feel it breaking into a billion pieces, and the little shards poking around my chest, so it hurt just a little bit more. 

“I think you should talk to D,” I said, short and to the point, because if I talked too much, I was probably going to cry. And by now, I was fucking tired of crying. 

“Why? I’m not in a relationship with Diana. I don’t give a fuck what she thinks.”

“Technically, you’re not in a relationship with me either,” I offered him a small smile, rubbing my hands on my side in a nervous manner. His eyes followed them and he opened up his mouth to say something, but let a sigh out instead and ran his fingers through his already messy hair. 

“Then be my girlfriend, Sof,” he said softly, just as he gazed up to me. His words caught me by surprise, and I looked at him in astonishment. My heart had lodged itself in my throat, and I had to make an effort to take a deep breath. 

“Don’t be unfair, Harry,” I muttered. I wanted to laugh, but it came out like a dry chuckle, too sad and unhappy to fool anyone. “You need to figure things out before you can ask me that.”

“No,” Harry smiled, softly and sweetly, and I felt my heart break again if that was even possible. “And I’m not being unfair, I’m just…” He stopped when he looked at me, and he bit on the corner of his lips, mulling over his words before he let out a heavy sigh. “I sleep better when I’m with you, and whenever you’re not with me, I miss you and I wanna hear your voice. And I know you do too, ‘cause I hold you tight when you’re having those bad dreams, and I wish you would just open up to me and tell me what those are about, cause I fucking worry. And I know I can’t yell or talk too loud to you, because you’ll get scared, and that you like to pretend you’re living a simple life cause you’re scared about losing everything, but you still rehearse your Oscar’s speech in the shower. And I know you will do anything for the people you love, even telling me to go back to my ex, cause you think that’ll make me happy. So, no, I don’t need to figure it out. I want you to give me a chance.”

No words would come out of my mouth. Not even a sound. I looked at Harry with scarily big eyes, I was sure of it, and remained in my spot on the bed. My fingers curled around the covers and I made a ball out of the fabric, only to smooth it out nervously.

“Sof…Look at me.” I did as I was told, looking at Harry in the eye as he got closer to me until he was standing between my legs and I noticed that there were people having sex in his shirt. He crouched in front of me, and his fingers pressed softly to my thighs, burning tiny holes in my skin. My tongue darted to my lips and I closed my eyes when he took my hands in his. His touch felt so right, so calming and lovely. “Talk to me.”

I was trapped in a vicious circle. His presence made my tummy tight, and I wished for nothing more than to kiss him, slowly, lavishly. Hold his hands and let them embrace me. I was hungry for his touch. But I was also fucking scared, so much that it was numbing. I didn’t know what to do with all of these feelings, didn’t have anyone to look up to when it came to them. If I thought about my mom, well, that wasn’t ideal, selfishness and pain, unrequited love, and a toxic relationship. Most of my life I had spent pining over Sam and even that had been a fantasy. And then came Harry, in all of his glory and all of his brightness, with his sweet kisses and the way he made me feel, and it was so easy to let myself fall. But he chose her, even when he didn’t, and I felt like a second choice secured in a transactional agreement. And it made me feel sick. 

But the thought of letting him go made me feel even worse. 

When Cat opened the door, she found us just like that, holding hands and staring at each other as I struggled to come up with words. She cleared her throat because that was the polite thing to do, and I felt relieved to have found a way out. 

What was I supposed to say? I still didn’t have an answer for that. Cause a part of me wanted to jump into his arms, but the other part, the loudest one, was so fucking scared, I wanted to protect her and tell her everything was just fine. 

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, smiling shyly as she closed the door behind her. 

Fuck. 

My mom was expecting me and my boyfriend to come to join them for dinner, even if I had never told her that Harry was my boyfriend. I wouldn’t even know how to start that conversation, if I was being honest, I had never even admitted to my mom that I liked anyone. My feelings were usually in a box, primly tucked away and safe from everyone. They didn’t matter, cause they were usually unrequited, silly and juvenile, not something to make a fuss about. This time was no different, other than the fact that I was willing to shove whatever feelings I had into the deep end of the box, unlabeled and unexplained until I could forget about them.

“Harry... Could I ask for a favor?”

“You need me to pretend everything’s fine?” He said, not missing a beat as I let his hands go to get up from the bed. I picked up the ice cream tube and the plate of brownies, trying to get myself busy so I wouldn’t have to look at him for too long. If I did, I knew that my knees would tremble. 

“Please...I know it’s weird...”

“Sure. It looks like this is the last time I’ll get to see you, so I don’t give a fuck about weird,” Harry shrugged, and his words took a moment to sink in, making me stop and turn to look at him when they finally did.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I didn’t need an answer. Panic was already starting to settle in my bones, making my heart pound so loudly, I could hear the beat. 

“I won’t beg, Sof,” he said simply. He wouldn’t beg and I was a fucking idiot. He didn’t need to add that last part for me to know it was true. A gigantic idiot. 

So, I did the only thing that occurred to me: I got mad. Put the plate and ice-cream down and crossed my arms over my chest as I frowned at him. I looked offended, outraged as if I had the right to be any of those things. 

“But we have a deal, Harry!” I exclaimed and Harry smiled softly at me. He was tired. I was tiring, I knew that. 

“You’re released, Sof. We don’t have to do this anymore.”

“I am a woman of my word, Harry,” I bit, haughtily. “I don’t need to be released. I know you’re in a hurry to rekindle your relationship, but…”

“Oh, fuck off, Sofia,” he cut me off, and I pretty much had to run to keep up with him, as he made his way to the kitchen, where my family was already sitting around the kitchen island. 

Dinner was already served, and plates of pasta and salad were waiting for us. We usually had dinner around the kitchen island, where we had placed six comfortable velvety blue dining chairs, just in case we had any visitors, and I sat in front of Cat and between my mom and Sam if he was around. This time, we were assigned the two seats by the end of the row, right next to Sam. Harry took the spot next to Sam and put his arm on the back of my chair, as he smiled sweetly at me. No one would ever believe that we had been arguing just a few moments before. 

“So, Harry,” my mom said, as she served herself a whole lot of salad, and put almost as much on Cat’s plate. “I’ve been told you’re a singer.”

“I am,” Harry smiled at her, sincerely and warmly. Perhaps he wasn’t used to people not knowing exactly who he was. “I used to be in a band, and now I’m doing my own thing. Have you ever been to a concert, Cat?”

My sister, who was in the middle of biting a huge piece of spinach, was completely taken by surprise by the question, and she put the fork down before gulping largely. Her cheeks were pink and she looked at me for a second, before she looked back at Harry. 

“I went to 1D’s last concert in L.A. Sam took me. Sof was supposed to come with me, but she couldn’t make it,” she said cautiously, readying herself with details in case Harry wanted to check on her story. But Harry looked at me, with a huge grin already curling up his lips. 

“I thought you didn’t know who I was. But you liked me enough to go to one of my concerts, uh?”

Well, that was not exactly what I said. 

“I told you Cat liked your music. And I got the tickets for cheap.” That was definitely not true. They were expensive as fuck, poor little me had to work two shifts forever to pay them up. 

“Oh, c’mon, baby, gimme this,” Harry chuckled and I rolled my eyes, licking my lips and sighing in feigned annoyance before I gave in. 

“I had to save a lot because back then I was a waitress, and I was trying to become an actress and go to college, so every penny counted. But, it didn’t matter, cause Cat and I wanted to go to that concert. That day, I, uh, I worked a day-long shift, cause I was taking the next day off, and I had gotten a call for a really small part in a movie, and they wanted to shoot that afternoon. They told me that I would be in and out in an hour, cause they just wanted to reshoot a small scene, and it had to be quick, but the actress was so drunk, she could barely stand, much less say her lines, so we had to do about 1,000 takes, and we were there forever. So I couldn’t make it to the concert, but, uh, the director told me I was a real champ, and she called me for her next movie, and...here I am…”

“So, I could’ve met you all those years ago,” Harry told me, a small, sweet and sincere smile spreading on his lips. 

“Oh, no, we didn’t have backstage tickets,” I shook my head and laughed, cocking my head to the side as Harry took my hand in his and laced our fingers on top of the counter. 

“I would’ve noticed you in the crowd,” Harry insisted. “You and Cat would have been the prettiest girls in the crowd, I wouldn’t have been able to take my eyes off of you, baby.”

Cat blushed up to her ears. My mom smiled delightedly. I rolled my eyes. 

I would’ve kissed him. I should have kissed him. 

“He is charming,” my mom said, reminding us that they were still there. “And he knows what to say.”

Harry didn’t let my hand go until we started eating and even then, his hand rested on my thigh, the bare skin of my legs covered with goosebumps. I forgot about everything else, about his question and my fears, and I allowed myself to enjoy dinner, and the warmth of the room, and the comfort of Harry’s touch. I felt sleepy and full, and I leaned to him, pressing my forehead to his shoulder as I sighed. He was sweet and familiar, and he was so close that I could press my lips to the curve of his neck. 

I was too satisfied, so much that I could almost ignore the scowl on Sam’s face.

“Harry, would you like to join us to watch a movie?” My mom asked as we finished eating, and after Harry insisted on helping with the dishes. Cat and I were sharing a brownie, while Sam seemed to be incredibly interested in whatever was happening on his phone. “We like to watch Halloween movies in October, and Sam and Sof were watching Hocus Pocus, but I think we could give The Witches a chance tonight. Or maybe Halloweentown.”

“I don’t think I’ve watched any of those,” Harry said, going back to his place next to me and stealing a piece of my brownie.  

“Oh, my God! How could you not have watched The Witches or Halloweentown?” I asked, appalled by the information. 

“I don’t think I have, no.”

“We can no longer be friends, Harry.” 

This made him smile mischievously, and a shiver ran up my spine as he looked at me, leaning back until I could feel his warm breath fanning over my skin. “It’s a good thing we’re not just friends, then,” Harry whispered and my skin covered with goosebumps when his lips softly brushed mine, and he kissed me lightly before he pulled away. 

I was hot red, I was sure of it, I could feel the heat surging from my face, and Harry was enjoying it. His lips were still curled in a wicked smile, which got bigger as Sam looked away from us. 

We didn’t have a proper movie room as Harry did. But we had a ridiculously big TV screen and a comfortable couch full of pillows and blankets, where we usually cuddled up to each other and watched movies and ate pizza. So we went there, and my mom offered a velvety blue blanket to Harry and me, so we could share it. Cat brought popcorn, M&M, sorted nuts, and lemonade, and settled them in the large coffee table in front of the couch, so we could serve ourselves. 

I don’t think I made it to half of the movie before I fell asleep, cuddled up to Harry’s chest, and with his arms looped around my waist. It was easy to do, much easier than when I was by myself. I was lulled by his breathing, and by the lovely warmth of his body. I could feel the rumbles of his chest whenever he talked, and the sweet brush of his lips when he pressed soft kisses on top of my head. 

So when the movie came to an end and we had to get up, my body refused to let him go, and I kept our fingers intertwined as I leaned into his hug. I made him wait until everyone went to their room, as we laid on the couch, cuddled up to each other. 

“Stay,” I whispered as soon as we were alone. I couldn’t see Harry’s face, cause my mom had a whole thing about leaving lights on, but I knew he was looking at me, his whole attention focused on that tiny word. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we don’t have to do anything...I just...I’m having nightmares…”

“And you want me to cuddle you to chase them away?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’ll stay,” he replied and I nodded, cause there was no need to say anything else. 

****

I didn’t have nightmares. Not one. I slept through the night. 

But this was not a typical morning with him. Usually, I would wake up to his kisses, softly pressed to my shoulders, my forehead, my nose, my lips, everywhere he could reach. Usually, he liked to play in the morning, if time allowed. 

It was different this time. He had already woken up and was on his phone. Sleep was still etched on his eyes, and he rubbed them lightly, with a little pout on his lips. He was shirtless, and the sheets were pooling around his waist, and even though I knew he had boxers on, black, tight, fucking inviting, it almost seemed like he was naked. I felt like a creepy intruder. 

“Hi,” I mumbled, bringing the sheets up to my chest as I turned to my side to look at him. Sitting like he was, I could focus on his profile, the sharp edges of his jaw, the couple of freckles that adorned his face, and the way his nostrils flared up a bit around the pointy tip. I liked it when he smiled, but that seemed like a lot to ask under the circumstances. 

“Hey,” Harry replied, putting his phone down on his lap to look down at me. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Yeah...thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He asked, chuckling lightly and looking at me with curiosity. 

“For staying,” I said earnestly. “You were right, I do sleep better when you’re around. How about you?”

“I hadn’t slept in 3 or 4 days. I slept through the night yesterday.”

“That’s inconvenient, isn’t it?” 

“What is?”

“That I can only sleep when I’m next to you,” I said in a low breath, lying on my back to avoid looking at him. I didn’t say ‘we’, I didn’t want to assume, or have him correct me and tell me he slept just fine without me. That he had plenty of choices, he was going to survive me. 

“It is,” Harry replied quietly. He looked at his hands for a second, remaining quiet as he gnawed on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to leave?” He asked and I didn’t even need to think about it to know the answer. No, I didn’t want him to leave. It almost looked like he belonged right there, in my room, in my bed, spending his morning with me.

“I think my mom expects you to stay for breakfast, would you mind?”

“No. But that’s not what I asked, Sof. Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes,” I replied in a low voice. Harry nodded and didn’t say another word, but he visibly relaxed and let himself sink a little bit further into the covers, getting closer to me as he did so. I relaxed as well, just now noticing how tense and stiff I was, almost as if I was holding my breath, gauging if I had to run or if I could stay. It was out of habit, the survival instinct kicking in. I wasn’t afraid, though, I knew what fear felt like. 

“So, I’m the first boy you bring home...” he said teasingly, and this time he gifted me with the hint of a mischievous smile. 

“I didn’t bring you home, you came all by yourself.”

“I needed to know you were alright, I was going a bit crazy. And you asked me to stay, and that’s kind of the same thing, innit?”

“Yes, it is. So far, you’re the only person that’s ever mattered enough.”

“So far?”

“Well, once you leave, I’m gonna have to move on, don’t you think?”

Harry rolled to his side until he was lying next to me, and if I turned my head, our noses could almost touch. The air got hotter, and the fiery tension grew around us as I looked at him. His skin looked so tan against the pastel colors of my sheets, and his wicked smile made me shiver all the way down to my curling toes. 

“I’ve already asked you to be my girlfriend, Sof. I don’t know what else you want from me. Do you want me to swear I will adore you? Cause I can do that.”

“I just want you to be happy, H,” I said. I turned my face and looked at the ceiling, just in case I would cry. “It doesn’t matter if it’s not with me. And I’m pretty sure your heart's not in it.”

“I don’t think it’s fair you get to say where my heart is, Sof.”

“I know. But I’m sure you’re gonna thank me.”

“You’re fucking impossible, Sofia,” Harry grunted and I nodded, cause there was nothing he could say to me that I hadn’t already told myself. I bit my bottom lip and grabbed his hand in mine, with barely enough pressure for him to feel my touch, but still, so he could pull it away if he wanted to. I was hoping he wouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” I said. “Please, don’t go. Not yet.”

****

Harry requested my presence every day that week. Most of the time, there weren’t paps around, not even one. Sometimes, we spent time in his house, or Jeff’s, and no one could see us, other than a small group of his friends or his band. 

Diana called it an organic outing, where we relied mostly on candid pictures taken by unsuspecting people. It was better, she said, because it made it seem like a real thing, and not like a desperate attempt to call attention by calling the paps on yourself. She said people could usually tell. 

Harry didn’t really need me, and that night it wasn’t any different, but there I was, smiling to his friends and sitting on a pile of pillows, while I listened to Alexa Chung as she told me about the many times she had seen him naked “by accident”.

There was plenty of food, I had made sure of it, I had put together different tapas and bowls. Whatever I could not get in Harry’s fridge, I ordered and hid the packaging away, which made it seem like I could make sushi and that Harry was enough of an adult to have enough things in his fridge to make a small plate with hummus, pita, and some olives and a really nice cheese board and even mini-sliders that I had made out of scratch (and brioche buns that I had found in a fancy bakery around Harry’s house). It wasn’t all that pretty, and I was sure my mom would be disappointed by my hosting abilities, but I managed, and that’s what matters.

I couldn’t stop stealing looks at Harry, and smile whenever I found him already looking at me. He looked like a fucking Disney prince, with dark, curly hair and emerald eyes. His tattooed arms only added to his charm, the way his ink spilled skin looked against the crispy white of his shirt. 

It had been 9 days, 13 hours, and a few minutes since we had last kissed.

His arms were probably my favorite part of his body. Or maybe it was his thighs, or his eyes and the way they glinted mischievously when they looked at me. Perhaps, my favorite part was his dimples and their simple stubbornness, shining through his cheeks even when he tried to maintain a serious expression. I was also very fond of his lips and his sweet taste when he kissed me. He was fucking glorious and he knew it. 

I had lost count on how many beers I had had already. Maybe 3, but they could easily be 5. I wasn’t much of a drinker. My vision was already blurry and I let my body sway from side to side as I watched everyone enjoy the food and the alcohol we had served. It was a birthday party but I still had no fucking idea who was I supposed to congratulate, so I just smiled stupidly at everyone, just in case. It seemed like my safest bet. 

Harry took his time to join my little group. He was happy when he did so, and he sat next to me, draping his right arm around my shoulders. I took that as an opportunity to get closer to him, leaning back to his chest as I molded myself to his body. Harry’s hand dropped to my waist and went under my shirt, the warmth of his fingertips making me smile as he pinched my skin between them. He giggled and for a second I couldn’t breathe, I liked him so much. 

Harry hadn’t asked again and I hadn’t given him an answer, and it surrounded us like a heavy fog that didn’t allow us to see any further than our own noses, not even each other. I could feel it in the last couple of days when he would barely talk to me when we were alone and most of our interactions were reserved for other people. But it felt nice to spend some time with him, and I took whatever I could get. I was the one that fucked up, anyway. 

But tonight, it almost felt real, we were us, and I could enjoy the warmth of his body and the soothing richness of his voice. 

“Alexa’s telling me about the time you went skinny-dipping in Italy,” I told him. “But I’m not sure I want to hear any more stories about her and my naked boyfriend.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Sugar,” Alexa smiled, looking at Harry and then at me as if she was confirming her statement before making it. “He’s all yours.”

Oh, Sugar had lots to worry about. Her stupidity most of all.

“You should try it,” he whispered, as his friends fell into a comfortable chat and they forgot about us. 

“Getting naked in front of other people?”

“It’s quite liberating,” Harry smiled and I turned to look at him, with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. 

“I don’t know, it sounds like one of those things that’s a lot more fun when you’re with someone else. So, I’d have to find someone to want to get naked with me first.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding someone to join you,” he told me and I shook my head in response. 

“Mmmm, maybe, but I don’t want someone else,” I whispered. 

If he had something to say, I didn’t get to hear it. We looked at each other for a moment, remaining silent as we did so. We knew better than to have this conversation while surrounded by so many people.

3 hours later, we were finally alone. I was trying to tidy up around the house while Harry talked to his few last guests and walked them to their Lyfts. Once they left, and no one was able to see me, I would be free to go as well, to my empty bed and my recurring nightmares.

We weren’t spending our nights together, and I missed him terribly. 

“Sof?” I heard his voice before I could see him. He was smiling softly at me, and I stood there, in the middle of his living room, just looking at him as he made his way to me. 

“Sorry,” I said with a lopsided smile, one that gave away the slight buzz of alcohol that still ran through my veins. “I’ll leave...” But Harry was still smiling when he took my hand, and I felt the electricity that vibrated out of his skin. It felt like a game, following him around the house until we reached the pool. It was a chilly night.

Harry let my hand go as he went to take his shirt off. His tanned skin glimmered under the moonlight and I let myself enjoy his taut body, taking notice of every tattoo that adorned his skin. I was almost done counting them when Harry took his jeans off, followed by his black boxers. 

He was naked, completely so, and I could only stare at him as if it was the very first time I had seen him like that. I was drinking him, devouring his naked body with my eyes as if it were the last time I got to see it. And maybe it was. 

“Are you gonna let me get naked alone, baby?” Harry teased and I saw him as he dove into the pool, splashing around like a cannonball. It was only then that I reacted, my fingers flying to my lace shirt to pull it off over my head and letting my boyfriend jeans fall to my ankles. 

Harry stared at me from the pool, smirking as he watched me unhook my bra and pull my panties off and kick them so they joined the rest of my clothes. I was way more careful than him when I got into the pool and I waded to him, standing there with a shy smile as I shivered from the cold water. 

So this was skinny dipping. 

We didn’t talk, because doing so would mean that we would have to stop kissing, and I didn’t want that. I was the first one to give in, crashing my lips to his and hooking my legs around his hips as his hands settled on my waist. It was a fucking good kiss, one that made me shiver down my spine and sigh against his lips as the taste of them flooded my mouth. 

The water swayed us, and I could feel his naked skin against mine, my chest squeezed against him, and his cock pressed against my center. 

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Harry whispered, and his words grazed over my skin, at the same time he trailed sweet kisses down my jaw, my neck, my collarbones. If I let him go, just a bit, he would have been able to continue his way down my body, but I wanted to kiss him more, just to make up for all of the kisses I had missed already. 

So, I kissed him slowly and smiled clumsily every time Harry would kiss me harder, igniting a fire in the depths of my tummy, that made me press myself closer to him, so I could feel every inch of his body against mine.

Harry moved us easily to the end of the pool, and I huffed down as I felt the cold tiles. My nails raked over his skin and I allowed myself to break the kiss apart, only so Harry could continue kissing down my neck, licking and nibbling on my skin to his delight. The cold air of the night made me shiver and I threw my head back, as a bubble of bliss pressed tighter between my legs. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Harry smiled and I felt myself buzz with happiness. 

“You’re the fucking gorgeous one, baby,” I whispered. My fingers had nestled on the nape of his neck and I played with the wet ends of his hair, while my nose bumped against his. “Fuck me right here, would ya?”

“Are you in a hurry, Sof?” He laughed. My cheeks felt hot and I looked away, focusing on a lawn chair that was by the far end of the pool. 

“Well, I know I might regret it if we don’t do it. But you’re right, it’s probably a silly idea.”

“I never said that. Don’t let your head tell you that, baby. And by the way, I love it when you call me baby.”

We kissed some more, slowly and hungrily, because I wanted to and because we could. 

We had all the time in the world. 

Harry squeezed my ass and pressed us closer, as his hips rocked against mine, as the water swayed us. He licked and sucked on my nipples, and smirked with every new moan that elicited from my throat. 

“Now you’re just torturing me,” I said. Harry smiled. It was true. 

“I’ll behave.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to behave,” I smirked. Lust flashed in his eyes and he offered me a grin that made my tummy bubble. “Make it worth the drive home while all soaked.”

“I was hoping you’d stay. Help me sleep better tonight.”

“That’s the only reason you want me to stay?”

“I have a few others…”

“Well, as long as you need me.”

It wasn’t long before we were in the room next to the pool. His skin was cold, and little beads of water ran down our bodies. His fingers tangled in my wet hair, and I stepped closer, feeling his chest against mine as his fingers trailed down my spine. There wasn’t much space between us, so I could feel him, his hard cock pressing against my tummy. 

His eyelashes were long and a bit curled, and they fluttered for a couple of seconds as he closed his eyes, giving in to the feeling of my touch. I wondered how it felt for him, as my fingers wrapped around his cock and I squeezed it lightly.

“You’re hard,” I stated, with a mocking smile curling up my lips. He was, and he grunted deeply in acknowledgment. “What are we gonna do about that?”

“I told you, I have a couple of ideas,” Harry replied, his voice low and slow, laced with lust. “And I need you for all of them.”

Harry brushed his lips over my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it. My whole body was covered with goosebumps, and my smile faltered, as I became aware of his presence next to me. Everything was heightened, his fingertips running down my bare tummy while he pressed just another kiss on the curve of my neck. “You know what I want to do when we fuck?” He said. His words made me shiver, and I looked at him, drinking every word of his. 

“What?” I asked in a whisper, leaning closer to him as a fiery need grew in my tummy. I wanted to kiss him, a hungry kiss that would leave us both breathless. I wanted to bite him and lick him, just to taste him. Just that thought clouded my mind. 

Harry didn’t answer and he didn’t need to, cause his hand had found its way between my legs. I allowed him to, gasping at the coldness of his fingers against my warm skin. It felt so good. So deliciously good. 

“I always think about you sucking me off,” he said, and his finger slid down my slit, teasingly. “I love the way you look at me when you do it.” I couldn’t look away from him, at his pouty lips and the way his green eyes turned darker and darker. It was like it reflected my lust, and I could see the fire that was starting to consume my thoughts grow in his eyes. 

“Maybe I would even make you sit on my face while you suck me off, baby, would you like that?” Harry asked, pressing a soft kiss on my neck that contrasted with the deepness of his voice. It was so rich, like honey and chocolate, and it made me melt inside, slowly stripping away any doubts that held me back. 

“I would.”

I let go of my lip before it would bleed, and let my tongue soothe the sore spot. With his eyes still on me, Harry let one of his fingers slide down my entrance, seeing how wet I was starting to get for him. He dipped the tip of his finger and teased my entrance with slow circles. If I moved, if I rocked my hips at the rhythm he was dictating, he would thrust the tip of his finger in, and I felt a slight burn in my walls. 

“And then I’d lick that pretty pussy of yours, baby. Get you all wet for me.” I was wet, he could feel it. He slowly let more of his finger in, and he thrust it slowly, looking at me as I parted my lips to inhale sharply. My walls clenched around his finger and Harry smiled widely, adding the tip of a second finger to the pressure between my walls. 

“Fuck.”

“I would eat you out until you came on my tongue,” he continued as if he wasn’t doing enough already. “Would you like to cum for me, baby?”

his cock, large and throbbing, gliding between my folds, getting wet, and slick with my juices, hitting my clit with its dripping tip. I wanted to feel that pressure, my walls clenched just at the thought. 

“I want you to sit on my cock, I want to bite your neck and your tits and play with them while you ride me. You can decide how fast you want to go, baby, how deep you want me.” His voice was just as slow, a secret between the two of us. 

He had stopped moving his fingers in me, and focused instead on my clit, spreading my folds as his thumb drew circles on the little bud. My fingers were trembling, just as my tummy was, as I stroked his cock between them. I could feel him in all of his fucking glory. It was selfish of me, cause I wanted his attention on me, even when I knew he needed me. His throbbing cock told me as much.  

“I wanna taste you,” I whispered. “Can I? Please.”

Harry kissed me before he said anything else, his hot mouth demanding everything I had, he wanted it all for himself. So I kissed him back, cause that was all I wanted to do. Because even if I repeated to myself that I would get over him, deep in my soul, I knew that I would always want more. Just like him, I wanted it all. 

I went faster, pumping him in my hand and letting my fingers brush over his swollen tip every time. Harry grunted, and kissed me harder, sucking on my bottom lip until I moaned, loud enough for it to echo down my body. 

I wanted to get on my knees right there, but he had a different idea and guided us blindly to the bed, where he sat and I stood between his legs, being observed by him with a devilish smile. 

“Go on, then,” he said. 

I got on my knees, pressing my fingers to his bare thigh before I grabbed his cock in my hand, holding him while I licked a bold stripe from his base to his tip and let my tongue swirl around his tip before I sucked lightly on it. Harry whimpered, at the same time that my eyes met his. Just for him to see, I kissed his length with soft, slow, and wet kisses, my tongue licking on the skin sloppily.

A sharp breath got caught in his throat when I took him in my mouth and pressed my tongue to the shaft of his cock, bobbing my head down as I tried to take as much as I could of him. Harry was thick, even I could tell that, and he felt deliciously heavy on my tongue, his sweet taste almost exhilarating. 

“Fuck, baby, get on the bed.”

I almost refused, cause it all felt so fucking good, but I obeyed, popping him out of my mouth long enough for me to climb on the bed and kneel beside him. Harry didn’t waste any time. His lips attached to my nipple, sucking on it while his hand gripped to the back of my thigh, sliding up until he could brush his fingertips over my soaked slit. Harry licked the other nipple, at the same time his fingers slid between my folds and he thrust two of them in, while his thumb pressed to my clit. 

He was distracting me, to say the least, and heat pooled in my lower tummy, pulsing quickly as Harry pumped his fingers inside me and massaged my throbbing clit. My hand went to the back of his head, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, while the other tried blindly to grab his cock. 

“Harry, please,” I begged. My breaths were shallow, and my stomach quivered quickly, feeling tight as the pressure between my legs grew to a pulsing fire. “I wanna suck you off, baby. I want you to cum in my mouth, yeah?”

I could feel him smile against my skin, and he let my nipple go, peering up to me to offer me a smirk. Go on, his eyes said, and I bent down and sucked lightly on the tip of his cock. It was swollen pink, and I could taste the salty drops that gathered there. I wrapped my fingers around his base, and I squeezed a little, before I started to pump his cock in my hand, as I sucked on his tip and let my tongue press flat to his shaft to bob down just slightly. 

If I looked up, I could see his bleary eyes and the way his mouth hung slightly open. Our eyes met and it was then that he started to work his fingers again on me, thrusting his fingers in my wet center slowly, while his thumb played lazily with my clit. 

I closed my eyes, cause my walls were clenching and my stomach quivered, deliciously, blissfully. You surrender control over your own body for just a couple of seconds, letting the other person tip you over the edge, as they please. 

“Fuck,” I whimpered. It was the only thing I managed to say, because Harry put his free hand on the back of my head, and pushed my face down lightly, so I would take more of him. 

“Fuck, baby…” Harry moaned in a strangled whisper. “Fuck, Sof…”

I didn’t know what I was doing, so I chose to be sloppy, to moan and show him just how much I was enjoying it. Harry’s hips bucked up and I gagged a little bit, digging my nails in the meaty part of his thighs as he rocked them and his fingers went faster and rougher on me. I could feel that edge coming, the bliss that started in the lower part of my stomach and pushed down to my legs, so everything felt tighter every time my walls clenched, and that took over my legs and ran down to my feet to make my toes curl. I was unable to talk, my body could barely keep focused enough for me to keep touching him, 

Harry’s stomach tensed, and the muscles of his legs flexed and he tipped his head back as his high hit him. I could feel his taste flooding my senses, and I kept sucking the tip of his cock and stroked him with a tight hold, helping him ride his pleasure for a little longer. His bliss came in waves, and he smiled as he pulled my hair back, the thrust of his fingers becoming just as lazy and slow as the rocking of his hips into my mouth. 

Harry dropped to the bed when he came down from his high. His hot skin was clammy and his breaths heaved on his chest, but he looked at peace and happy, and he barely opened his eyes when I straddled him and kissed his neck softly. I looked him in the eyes and felt the heat of his skin against mine. His fingertips were brushing my leg, making their way up to the round of my ass to settle there. I kissed him once more, on the lips this time, and shuffled away from him, ready to leave the room and pick up my clothes that were still bunched up in a pile next to the pool. 

“Love?” Harry said and I turned to look at him, still lying on the bed. “Come back to bed.”

****

Nashville was certainly a new city to add to my ever-growing list of cities I should come back to later and give myself a chance to know. But it was all a whirlwind, we went from the airport to the hotel, so Harry wouldn’t be seen. It was a surprise, after all. 

Harry had asked me to come with him to Nashville, or well, he had asked Diana, who had agreed for both of us. He had a few meetings there, and he was planning to join his friend Kacey Musgraves in closing her concert in the Bridgestone Arena. I had no idea what that was, and I was pretty sure I had never heard any of her songs before, but it felt like a big thing, but I found it very exciting. It was the first time I had an actual chance to see Harry do his own thing. 

But if I felt as if we had gone back to normal, I was sorely mistaken. 

I had gone back to my house after that night because it felt like the safest thing to do and because Sam had called me, to let me know that my mom had one of her migraines after she had seen someone had been lurking around the house. She was sure it was my dad. She was now in her room, he said, feeling indisposed. I didn’t tell Harry that, he didn’t need to know, I just rushed home after talking to Sam. 

Harry hadn’t asked me to stay or tried to contact me in any way. He hadn’t even taken my calls. I wondered if he was expecting me to make a grand gesture. Or maybe, he was bored the night of the party and had gotten his fun already. I wasn’t sure of which one was it, and so the fear was paralyzing. 

“You hungry?” Diana asked on our way to the hotel. We were all riding in the same car, Jeff, Harry, Diana and I, and Diana was sandwiched between the two of us. She was asking me, but I took my time to answer, wondering how long it had been since I had a full meal. The last one I could remember was having lunch with Harry on a Friday, the same day his Lights Up video came out. We ate burgers because I was about to start my diet, and I needed to say a proper goodbye to food.

I had barely eaten after that day. I had barely slept. It was hard to do any of those things when you’re empty inside. 

“No.”

Harry looked at me for what felt like the first time that day. Maybe he was now just remembering that I had told him I wasn’t hungry when he offered to make breakfast for the two of us, or that I hadn’t eaten anything while we were with his friends. 

I looked away from him and to the city that was in front of us. 

It was almost night already, and I knew I couldn’t go out to walk around because that would mean potentially ruining Harry’s surprise. Harry and I were supposed to share a room, but it didn’t seem like he was willing to share his bed with me, so I was mentally ready to sleep on the couch (he was the one that needed a good night rest after all), and watch The Crown all night long. If Harry came out, I could pretend to be asleep.

We couldn’t get fast enough to the hotel, I felt like I was suffocating in the car.

I was wearing a black hoodie, a bit large on me, with the letters TPWK embroidered in rainbow colors over the left side, a pair of leggings, and red converses. I had makeup on, a light beat consisting of tinted moisturizer, cream blush, cream highlighter, mascara, and sheer gloss over a pink nude lipstick, that Diana had insisted on putting on during the flight. My eyebrows were done, and I had even gone through the effort of putting an array of fake freckles on my face. This way, if someone saw me, I was officially wearing Harry’s merch, looking flawless and effortless, as if I was born looking like that. 

My hair, on the other hand, needed Jesus, so I had put it in a tight bun that was surely going to give me a headache. 

Harry and I got ahead, getting to the elevator as Diana and Jeff stayed behind, discussing our remaining outings before we ended things. By early January Harry would be a free man, free to get with whoever he wanted. 

That didn’t hurt, not at all. 

The ride in the elevator was silent. Harry leaned the weight of his body against the mirror wall, looking at his phone and biting his bottom lip as he did so. I twisted my fingers and waited impatiently for us to reach our floor. 

I was suffocating. 

On the tenth floor, the elevator opened its doors and two girls looked wide-eyed at us. They were frozen and their eyes jumped from Harry to me, and I was sure they wanted to pinch us, just to see if we were real. I stepped to Harry’s side and beckoned them to get in. My fingers brushed Harry’s hand and heat ran down my body. I peered up at him, but it didn’t seem like the same had happened to him. The girls snickered and kept throwing obvious glances at us, which felt a lot better than straight-up ogling. It had happened to me. It was never nice. 

We finally got to our floor and we flashed a smile to the girls before hopping out of it. The screams rang in the air as soon as the doors closed behind us, and I prayed that they wouldn’t jump in there, but honestly, they probably did. 

Harry opened the door to a large suite, with window walls that allowed us to see the city. The room had a large grey-blue couch, filled with blue and white pillows, a guest bathroom, and a small studio area, with a white desk and a hanging lamp over it. On top of it, there was a small library, with a few books about the city’s music and food. There was a door to the room, and I peeked into it when Harry opened it, and I got to see the king-sized bed and a blue velvet armchair. The door to the inner bathroom was opened and I could see that there was a large tub in it, as well as a ridiculously big shower. 

I put my things on the couch and sat on it looking out at the city as Harry went into the room. What should I watch on Netflix? Maybe I should just browse Amazon Prime, I was going to be one of their stars pretty soon. I picked one of the pillows on the couch and pursed my lips in disappointment when I realized it was a bit too stiff. I already knew I wasn’t going to sleep that night, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to be comfortable. I also needed at least one blanket. So I got up and went to the room, as Harry went into the bathroom. He had pulled some clothes out, a pair of jeans, black boxers, and a lace shirt, and placed them over the bed. I stared at them and my feet only agreed to move when I heard Harry’s footsteps coming into the room. I bolted to the head of the bed, picking one pillow and pressing it to my chest before I looked at him. 

“What are you doing?” He asked and I blushed in response. 

“I, uh, I need a pillow. Are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’m having dinner with Kace.”

“Oh…”

He wasn’t inviting me, why would he? Everything went so well just a few nights ago, what had happened? How had he got tired of me so fast?

“Why would you need a pillow?” Harry asked, being kind enough to ignore my bleary eyes. It wasn’t intentional, and I looked away, shuffling between the sheets as I pretended that I was looking for something else. 

“It’s cold in the living room,” I explained. 

“So?”

“I’m sleeping there. You have a big day tomorrow, and I have nightmares. Don’t wanna be a bother.”

Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He picked up the clothes from the bed and walked to the bathroom, leaving me alone in the room. I rushed to get the blanket and got out. 

Now I wasn’t just suffocating, it hurt to breathe and tears spilled out of my eyes without my permission. I cleaned them off my face, and sat on the couch, turning the TV on as loud as I could so Harry wouldn’t hear me struggle to breathe. 

I don’t know what I was expecting or why I had agreed to come. I had my answer: He was bored and ready to get rid of me. 

Silly heart, don’t worry, it’ll get better. Someday. It had to. I could stop planning my big confession, there was no need for it. 

Harry smelled fresh and clean when he got out of the room, and his perfume lingered in the air. I barely lifted my eyes to look at him, pretending to be too focused on the movie I had on. I didn’t know which one it was, but it was noisy, and that checked all of the boxes I needed right then. 

“Don’t wait up,” Harry said on his way out, and I nodded. I was thankful for the numbness. “And Sof? You should eat something. Please.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said, looking up at him. He looked gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. His hair was swept back, which didn’t mean much, cause as soon as it had the opportunity, it was going to fall over his forehead. There was a white shirt under the lace one, and I could see the wing of the sparrow. Harry nodded and pursed his lips, but said nothing, closing the door behind him as he left. 

I wasn’t hungry. 

I had confirmed I had lost him about a week ago, before the birthday party. I wasn’t stupid. Something had shifted between us. So, every day, after I got home, I told my mom I had already eaten, and got to my bedroom, staring at the wall while I hoped to sleep that night. Every time, I woke up in the middle of the night, after just a few hours, or even minutes of rest, with my mouth open and my heart racing, screaming internally, after I violently shifted in my bed. The nightmares were many, some of them about my past, and some about my future. In two weeks, I had only slept twice through the night, both when Harry was in my bed. 

Tonight wasn’t going to be any different, so there was no point in trying. 

****

@FionaB @harrystyles is the most charming man I’ve ever met! 

He just asked me to join him for a drink and if I was staying in a nearby hotel! 

@ThisisHanna For real? You’re so lucky!

@commonclown Wait, isn’t he dating @sofwelshdlr?

@FionaB @commonclown is he? He didn’t seem to remember, lol

@juliawhite @sofwelshdlr look at this!

@TracyB oh, please, girl, you’re lying 🤥 

@brokendoll pics or it didn’t happen.

@FionaB @brokendoll of course I didn’t take pics! I was too busy flirting with Harry Styles!! 🤣

****

Harry got back at 1:46 in the morning and I pretended to be asleep when he checked on me. He turned the tv off, and took my phone out of my hands to put it on the coffee table, and rearranged the blanket around me, to tuck me in better. I could feel the beer and the vodka in his breath. 

He went to his bedroom and closed the door. 

****

I slept from around 4:35 to 6:07 am, when I sat on the couch and stared at the city. I had taken my shirt off, and was in a sports bra and a pair of black shorts, with fuzzy socks that didn’t match anything. I had a cup of coffee in my hands, black with sugar, and I enjoyed the warmth of it against my fingers. It felt nice. 

“You do know coffee does not replace breakfast, right?” Harry asked, I turned to look at him, he was shirtless and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, that hung a little too low on his hips. His hair was messy and his lips were pouty, still swollen from sleep. 

“I’ve been told.”

“We should eat waffles and fried chicken,” he offered with a smile, serving himself a cup of coffee that I had left for him. 

“I’m not…”

“Hungry, I know.” He said, too tired to have that conversation. I almost felt like apologizing. Harry sat on the couch, holding his cup of coffee as he looked at me. It wasn’t a lustful look or even a charming one. He was inspecting me. I looked awful, he shouldn’t do that. “Why are you up so early?”

“I wanted to talk to my mom before she started her shift at the hospital. She didn’t answer.”

“How is your family? Your mom, Cat, Sam?”

There was an edge in his voice as he mentioned Sam’s name, but I chose to let it go, shrugging my shoulders as I replied with a laconic “They’re fine.” I was too focused on the way he was looking at me, and I sat on the couch to stop him from staring at me any further. 

“Can I go to rehearsals with you?” I asked, redirecting the conversation to a better place. I was hoping to spend the day with him, maybe even watch him eat the damn waffles and fried chicken. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. And Kace wants to meet you, she wants to know if Chris Evans is a good kisser,” he said and I smiled brightly, like a child that had had her wish come true. So easy to please. 

My phone buzzed right next to Harry, and he looked down at it as I went to pick it up. He probably noticed Sam’s name flashing on the screen. I jumped up on my feet and avoided Harry’s eyes as I answered the call, turning to the window to continue looking at the city. 

“Hey, Sam,” I said. 

“Hi, sorry to call you so early,” I heard him say. There was a nervous hint on his voice, too bright and smiley, even miles away. It made me nervous, heightened my senses as I waited for the blow. “Did I wake you up?”

“No.”

“The nightmares?”

“I didn’t let them come.”

“Oh, yes, that is a very sensible solution, not sleeping at all.” 

“Sam…”

“I’m sorry,” he smiled. I could see him, blushing and looking down at the floor as he realized he was rambling. He always did so when he didn’t want to deliver bad news. “It’s just that...well, remember that man I told you about? The one that was lurking around your house?”

Fuck. 

“Yes, I do.” My heart had already stopped, knowing what was to come. 

“Well, it was your dad. He came last night, your mom opened the door.”

“Oh.” Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Cat told me she paralyzed, Sof, I’m sorry. He told them that he was going to ask for Cat’s full custody. Your mom has been in her room ever since, and Cat asked me to come and spend the night, just in case.”

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“Ok,” I said in a calm voice, even though I was fully panicking inside. “So, what do you think?”

“That you need to move.”

“Ok, so we’ll look for a house when I get back. We can move as soon as we find one,” I told Sam. I was already running scenarios in my mind, picturing a fully armed guard posted by my door 24/7. Too harsh? Maybe. Unnecessary? I wasn’t sure. Electric wiring came to mind as well. 

“Yes, that sounds like a great plan. And I’m really sorry, Sof.”

“Thank you, Sam, for everything,” I whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up and sighed, inhaling deeply and closing my eyes for a second before I turned around. My family was safe, I was safe. Everything was ok.

I turned to look at Harry, who had gotten up from the couch and gone to stand by the little “kitchen” counter. One couldn’t cook in there, but there were a coffee machine and cups and little plates, and Harry’s cup was already on it. He was looking at me, with such visceral eyes that I shuddered. 

“I was thinking…” he said. “Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to come to rehearsal.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. I didn’t have enough energy to even ask why. The air was too heavy and I could suddenly feel it weighing down my shoulders. I didn’t feel like being alone all morning. I needed Harry more than I had ever needed him before. “It’s ok. Can I still go to the concert? I was looking forward to seeing you perform.”

“Whatever you want,” Harry shrugged in response.

****

The venue was packed. I don’t know why that surprised me. 

The room was vibrating with excitement, and joyful chatter and I bobbed my head to the sound of the music. Kacey was already on stage, and I could see her in a little monitor, looking gorgeous with her pink outfit. It was pretty much like a movie set, people running around and shouting while she performed as if everything was perfect. 

Harry was getting ready, but he had barely acknowledged my presence since I got there, so it wasn’t like he was going to talk to me anyway. 

Once Harry walked to the stage, I was supposed to sit in a VIP booth, secluded from the crowd, but visible enough so people would notice me. 

I had considered the possibility of not coming. I had spent most of the day by myself, walking around the vicinity of the hotel, so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy. So I wouldn’t have to think about Harry, or my dad, or my mom, or the way that everything in my life seemed to be imploding. 

I walked until my feet hurt and I knew that I was gonna be in pain the next day. The hours that I still had before the concert I burned playing with makeup I had bought and listening to heartbreak songs. 

But even if I decided not to go, Diana would have never allowed me to. She knocked on my door when it was time and waited impatiently by my side as I finished putting my makeup on. I was taking my time, my lips were red and my eyes smoked out pink, cause tonight I didn’t feel like being discreet. I had put on a pair of black jeans, and a leather jacket, and a soft pink top, and my hair was in a loose braid that would not survive to the end of the night.

So, there I was, staring at Kacey Musgraves on a tiny monitor, while Harry ignored me. 

“Harry, you’re up in 5!” Someone yelled and my heart raced at the idea of finally seeing him. I turned, smiling brightly despite myself, and walked to him to wish him luck.

He looked stunning. His black pants reached his waist and the open chest of his shirt accentuated his tan skin. I stopped, waiting for the crowd around him to dissipate, but that didn’t happen, because they dragged him out to the stage before I even got close. 

Harry looked back, right before stepping out of the doors, and I smiled when our eyes met. Then, he was gone. 

If the crowd was expecting Harry, they hid it well. The arena roared as soon as the lights went out and Harry came into the stage mid-song. The energy electrified the air and I got goosebumps, looking at him singing along with his Kacey. The crowd sang along with them, and I wished I knew the lyrics, smiling widely when he sang and waved at the crowd, and even laughed at his Yeeehaw scream. It lasted less than 5 minutes, but I was probably going to remember that night for the rest of my life. 

It was the night when I finally accepted that I lost him, and the night where I had seen him shine as bright as only he could. 

“Can I stay here?” I asked Diana, as I saw her getting ready to go backstage. “I want to see the rest of the concert.” 

She narrowed her eyes and looked at me, licking her pink lips as she leaned closer so no one would hear her. 

“Why? You don’t even like country music.”

She was right. I also didn’t like feeling small. 

“Please.”

Diana nodded and got back to her spot, begrudgingly staying to enjoy the show. There was whiskey in her breath, which they kept offering us backstage, calling it Tennessee Whiskey with a wink on their faces. I had no idea what it meant. I had a couple of drinks anyway. 

I didn’t leave until Kacey did, and I stayed behind while everyone in the room clapped for her. Harry was already wearing a white cotton shirt and he smiled sweetly at his friend and hugged her tightly, whispering words to her ear. 

“Oh! So she’s the famous Sof!!” She exclaimed when I approached and she opened up her arms to me, smiling as she waited for my hug. “Jesus, the camera doesn’t make you justice.” She rubbed my back and pulled me close, and I hugged her back. 

“It was a lovely concert,” I smiled when she let me go. “Thanks for having me.”

“It’s alright, Sugar, I couldn’t wait to meet you.” she looked at her friend and smiled mischievously. “Harry’s smitten.”

“Good,” I said, looking at Harry as I did. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips, gone so fast that I could have easily missed it if I blinked. “So am I.”

“Disgustingly cute. Are you coming to the party, babe?” She asked, already looking somewhere else, she was being called. 

“I…”

“Sof’s tired, Kace, she can’t come,” Harry interrupted me and I looked at him with eyes wide with surprise. I was not, I was full of energy and I was hoping I would get to spend some time with Harry, even if it was just looking at him from afar. It took me a second to recover, to understand what was going on, and I smiled at Harry and Kacey, just as another piece of my heart broke. 

“Oh, are you sure?” Kacey pouted. 

“Yes, I uh, I spent the night reading new projects.”

“Oh, well, that’s the life of an artist for ya. You don’t mind if Harry comes for a little while, do ya?”

“Oh, no, please, have fun! I’ll just, I’m heading back to the hotel.”

“Next time you’re in Nashville, you and I will party until the sun rises the next day, promise?”

“Absolutely, as a matter of fact, we should schedule it right now!”

Kacey laughed and waved us away before she walked and made her way to a different group of friends. 

“Can I say something before I leave?” I asked Harry, who was actively avoiding my eyes. I wondered how we must look, standing awkwardly by each other’s side while no one looked the other in the eyes. “I think you were fantastic. I liked the duet.”

“You did?”

“Yes! I hope I get to see you at a concert someday when this is all over. I’ll probably skip next tour, tho.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause, it will take me a while to get over you. But don’t worry, I’ll be ok.” A smile broke on my face, cause I knew I wasn’t lying. It might take me some time to lick my wounds, but I was gonna make it. I always did. And someday, I was gonna try again. 

****

I texted Diana to let her know that I had gotten my own room and that I was going home on the first flight in the morning. I had already bought the tickets. I didn’t know if she was going to read it, because she was already dizzy and drunk when I left for the hotel, but I felt better letting her know. I also significantly decreased my chances of being murdered that night. 

There was one perk of being famous: you could get things you usually wouldn’t. Like a fried chicken sandwich, with cheese and bacon, fries, and a chocolate milkshake with a cherry on top, when the kitchen was already closed. Even if you’re not going to eat it. 

My new room was on a lower floor, so I didn’t have the same view Harry did, but I was still sitting by the window, with the TV as background, as I read a thriller book on my iPad. It was called The Last Mrs. Parrish, and maybe it was not the ideal book for my already sour mood, but I was in a rush to finish it, cause I had a hunch it would be a perfect drama series for me to become a producer. It was an idea that had started to run my mind in one of my sleepless nights, feverish, and fuzzy. This night was just as good as any to start shaping my idea up. I was supposed to spend 2 more days in Nashville, as Harry had a few meetings, and he wanted to see if he could visit some friends, so I was wondering if I should just stay, and finish the book there. But I had already booked my flight, 7 am the next day, and my poor heart was not up for anymore hurting. 

There was a knock on the door and I was tempted to ignore it. I continued reading for a few more seconds, hoping that they went away. I was pretty damn comfortable and cozy under my blanket, and if I moved just an inch, I would never get back to being as comfy. There was a second knock, and I grunted, scrambling to get up and walk to the door to open it up. 

It shouldn’t have surprised me when I saw Harry, leaning into the door frame with one hand, while the other was resting over his hips. He had just showered, his hair was still wet, and he was wearing a simple white shirt with grey sweatpants as if he had gotten ready to sleep when he remembered I was supposed to be sharing the room with him. I was about to close the door on him when I noticed two girls staring at us, trying to hide behind a large plant in a far corner. So I stepped to the side and allowed him in without saying a word. 

“Diana told me you had asked for your room,” he said. 

“I did,” I nodded. Harry followed as I made my way back to the window, and sat down on the floor, right next to me. I pulled the blanket over my legs and picked the iPad to prop it on my lap, as Harry picked one of the cold fries and bit into it. He made a sour face, before he put half of it back, and leaned over the plate to inspect the food. My heart raced as he picked up the orange bottle with the white cap, filled with white little pills. He looked at the label and then, turned to me with a deep frown etched between his eyebrows. 

“Did you order this and didn’t eat it?” He asked, which was the safest question I could get. 

“I ordered and then realized I didn’t want it.”

“Have you eaten something today?” Harry pressed. 

“I ate something,” I shrugged. “And don’t worry, you don’t have to pretend you care anymore.”

“What are you talking about, Sof??”

“I’ve realized that I’ve been selfish,” I started, licking my lips as I tried to organize my thoughts and remember the words that I had practiced and repeated a billion times since I left the concert venue. “And that I should’ve let you end things that night at my place. So, I’m doing that, you’re released. And now, you don’t have to pretend you worry if I don’t eat.”

“Or if you take sleeping pills.”

“I bought that on my way to the hotel and then decided against it,” I explained despite myself. “But, no, you don’t have to worry about that either.” 

Harry looked at me for what it felt like an eternity. There was a pang of sadness in his green eyes, and I had to restrain myself to not kiss his cheek and tell him that it’d be alright. He looked like a lost kid.  

“I have a request,” I said, following the script I had set for myself. If Harry just followed it, it would be amazing.  

“What?” He said, and I smiled at his unintentional good behavior. 

“Can you wait for a little bit before you officially get back with your ex? I mean, publicly. I know it’s not fair, but I…I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Would you do the same?” Harry asked and I almost laughed.  

“I’m not worth all the trouble I am, and I’m not getting in a PR relationship again, so…” I shrugged. Harry was too serious, looking at me with concern and sadness and I couldn’t bear it. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t say you’re not worth the trouble.”

“Jesus, I’m not,” I rolled my eyes, as Harry got closer and his fingers brushed over mine before he pulled them away. Maybe he remembered that we weren’t supposed to be doing anything like that. “Can I tell you a story?” I asked, and I put the iPad down to turn to him. This was not a part of my plan, but I wanted to tell him this, let him know what he meant to me before he went away. 

“Please, so I don’t have to go to my room so soon.”

“Ok, so when I was little, my aunt Laura, she was my mom’s little sister and my favorite person in the entire world, she usually told me “don’t just settle for any man, love should be special” and stuff like that,” I was smiling at the memory, and I could see the little dimples on Harry’s cheeks as he looked at me. “She never got married and she couldn’t stand my dad, so she wasn’t allowed at my house. But she went anyway, it was our little secret. One day, my dad got home earlier and he found her there, so she took me to my room and went back down to talk to my mom and dad. Before she left, she told me to go to my special place.” There was so much I didn’t notice back then. So much I could’ve done. I could’ve screamed. I could’ve told. 

“You had a special place?”

“It was my closet. My mom put pillows and a lantern in there, so I could read. I was supposed to be safe there,” I explained, rolling my lips into my teeth and inhaling deeply before I let out a big sigh. “So, that night, I hid in my special place, and I brought with me a pen and a pink notebook, ‘cause if love was supposed to be so special, well, I needed to fall in love with someone special, right?”

“Sure,” Harry smiled, nodding solemnly. 

“So I started to draft my list of things a boy should be before I allowed myself to fall in love with him. I was obsessed with the movie Practical Magic, so of course, my special boy had to have a green and a blue eye, and stupid stuff like that. You think I’m crazy yet?”

“Not because of this, no,” Harry grinned and I rolled my eyes, laughing when I pushed him lightly. But he took my hand and pressed it to his chest, and I could feel his heartbeat under my fingertips. “Keep going,” Harry said. 

“So, uhm…” Lost, I was lost. “So, I met Sam, and I knew as soon as I did that he was always going to see me as his little sister. So I added him to my ‘special boy’ list. So he had to be kind and always be there for me, and like soccer, but be really bad at it. And Cat had to like him, cause she followed Sam around as if he was made out of light and she was his little moth. And he had to...he had to protect me, he had to be willing to leave town on a rainy night, with my crying little sister on his backseat,” I shook my head as if that would chase the memories away, but no, nothing could ever do that. “So we moved to LA, and I met all of these guys and I was never even interested, ‘cause Sam was the one for me.” Harry squeezed my fingers softly and I looked at him, suddenly aware of how close he was, and how familiar his body felt next to mine. I had never told anyone any of this, and I wasn’t sure why I was telling him, but I kept going because I didn’t want him to go to his room. 

“And then I met you, and that day in D’s office, my heart went ‘oh, fuck’,” I laughed. “And I was sure you were never going to say yes, but you did. And then you kissed, and I knew I was fucked, even when we were surrounded by cameras. When I heard about your ex, I knew you were never going to love me back, you were never going to be mine, but I still kept adding things to my list: the boy has to make me go to bed with a smile, and hold me tight when I have nightmares. And the butterflies, man I really love those fucking butterflies... And he has to be a little bit smug and cocky, just because he knows who he is and what he has to offer, and he has to make me just a little bit dizzy when he looks at me.” I found myself smiling at nothing, and I slowly came back to reality, looking at Harry and clearing my throat as I did so. “So, yes, I’ll just have to wait a little longer and I’m sure I’ll just keep adding things to that list...but, someday…”

Harry kissed me before I could even realize what was going on. I gasped sharply into the kiss and scrunched my eyes closed as I shifted to him, getting to my knees to straddle him, and push him back against the couch. Harry smiled at my sudden enthusiasm, and he let his hands fall to my hips and his fingertips dig on the meaty curves of my ass when I sat on his lap. I took the opportunity to push my fingers into the wet ends of his hair, and tilt my head so we could deepen the kiss, and his tongue swept across my bottom lip before he did as I wished. 

“You were fantastic in the show,” I whispered as we broke the kiss apart, and I pressed my forehead to his. Harry chuckled and the warm puffs of his breath made my skin fill with little goosebumps. 

“I couldn’t stop looking at you, Sof.”

“Then why didn’t you let me come to the party?”

“‘Cuz I was scared, and really fucking angry at you, at myself.”

I kissed him, softly and slowly, little kisses pressed to his lips as he smiled so much that he forgot to kiss me back for a moment. But when he did, he kissed me hard, parting my lips to play with my tongue. His hands spread over my ass, pushing me closer to his bulge. I hummed at the feeling and kissed him with just as much urgency. My body came alive with his touch, a fire that traveled from the tip of my head to my toes. Everything felt heightened, the way he brushed his fingertips under my shirt, and the little kisses he trailed over my jawline and down to my neck. I could feel the bit of stubble on his face and the curling pressure of his fingers as he tried to close the little space between us. 

“Get up,” Harry whispered against my lips. 

“Are you leaving?”

“No, baby,” Harry replied, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I just want us to go to the room, is that ok with you?”

I nodded, ‘cause there was nothing better I could imagine, even if I tried, even if my mind weren’t all fogged up and fiery. 

Although, the couch would’ve worked too. 

Harry didn’t let me think. He helped me up on my feet and took my hand in his to guide me to the room. The butterflies fluttered tightly in my tummy and my heart seemed ready to send out the fireworks. 

“We can just kiss,” Harry smiled and I had to wonder if he could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

The corner of his lips got trapped between his lips and he looked at me. Sadness was long gone and now something like happiness danced in his green eyes, which made the butterflies stop for a second and go Eeeep. I felt like I had forgotten what it was like to look at him and wait for his touch and it was all coming back in crashing waves. 

When we kissed, I let him know how much I missed him and needed him, how afraid I was to lose him. I let him guide us, soft and slow at the start, as we both tried to memorize the taste of our kiss. Harry licked my lips and let himself get lost in me, with his arm looped around my waist while the other was pressed to the back of my neck. His kiss was maddening, making me feel like I was the only thing he could think of at that very moment. My whole body itched to have him. 

Harry seemed to get it, cause he allowed his fingers to travel under my shirt, pushing the fabric up until we had to break the kiss so he could take it off. I was braless already, and I held my breath as Harry stared at me as if it was the very first time he saw me like this. My fingers trembled as I hooked them around the waistband of my jammies, but I stopped as Harry shook his head and smiled. 

“Lemme see you, baby. Turn around and push them down.”

“You’ve been watching a lot of porn, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” he admitted shamelessly. “So, let me sit, so I can see you, yeah?”

I watched him sit on the bed and his hand go to his crotch, as he palmed himself over the gray fabric of his sweatpants. The sight made a rush of adrenaline run down from my lower to my legs and a pulsing pressure settled between my thighs. I did as he asked me to, and turned around to allow him to see as I slowly bent down and pushed my jammies down my hips and my legs until I reached my ankles. 

“Fuck,” I gasped at the cold feeling of Harry’s tongue on my center. He was sloppy as he trapped my clit between his lips and his fingers dug on my asscheeks to spread me apart. “Fuck.”

A blissful wave rolled down my tummy, and I shifted on my feet just slightly, to allow Harry to let his tongue run down my slit and lap around my center. The tip of his tongue slid between my folds, barely pushing in before he went back to play with my clit, sucking and lapping on it as if I was a fucking delicious ice cream and he was decided to devour me. I could feel his warm breath, fanning over my slick pussy and making me shiver and laugh breathlessly, the unexpected touch already pushing me to a delicious edge. 

I didn’t know what to do, where to put my hands or if I could rock my hips as I wanted to, so I dug my nails on the palm of my hand, and my breath heaved as Harry continued to work to drive me crazy.

“C’mere, baby,” Harry commanded as he stopped, and I almost wanted to tell him to get back on his knees and finish me off, but I turned to look at him, just like he had said, and saw his glistening lips as he smiled at me. If I let my eyes travel down I could see his hard cock in all of its glory, and his fingers pressing up to it to tease himself.

“Can I suck you off?” I asked, but Harry shook his head no, and sat down on the bed, on the same spot I had left him just a couple of minutes ago. I went to him, taking short and slow steps so he could see my every move, and stood between his legs as I helped him take his shirt off. My hands pressed to his shoulders and I pushed him down to the bed, straddling him so he couldn’t even think about going anywhere. 

I wanted to trace every tattoo on his body with my lips. I started on his collarbones, trailing tiny little kisses and licking his soft skin, I made my way down his body. I kissed the sparrows and the butterfly and I hummed as I reached the ferns, my fingers curling up the waistband of his sweatpants to push it off. 

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me as I took the remaining of his clothes off. I was clumsy and laughed shyly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his eyes followed my every move, even when my hand wrapped around his cock, and I climbed on the bed to start sucking him off. I just wanted his taste in my mouth, to hear the little gasp of pleasure he let out when I dropped a ball of spit on his cock, and spread it over with quick, tight movements. I just wanted to see his tummy quiver when my tongue ran over his swollen tip and licked the salty beads of precum that spilled on it and as I sucked it sloppily, just like he liked him. 

Harry laughed, but it was delirious, blissful. His head tipped back and he grunted out a moan that echoed down my body and rose little goosebumps on my skin. It was all I wanted, to make him feel good. 

“Sof,” he breathed. “Come sit on my face.”

I popped his cock out of my mouth and looked at him, smiling mischievously as I lapped my tongue over his tip one last time. There was lust in his eyes, full and pure, the usual bright green had disappeared, and they were as dark as they could be. 

“You like ordering me around, don’t you?” I asked him, but I was already making my way to him because just the thought of his tongue on me made my stomach tighten. 

“And you’re usually such a good girl, baby. Come and spit on your hand so you can play with my cock.”

I straddled Harry’s face, and sat back down carefully, shivering when I felt Harry’s tongue flick over my clit. I was still pretty sensitive from before, so it was pretty damn easy for him to get a moan out of me. His hands were on each of my thighs, pulling me closer to his face as he licked and sucked and played with my swollen clit. I was drenched, so fucking wet it was ridiculous, and Harry smiled when I tangled my fingers in his hair, so I had something to hold on to as I rolled my hips. 

It took me a moment to remember that I was supposed to play with his cock. I leaned my body back and grabbed him with trembling fingers as Harry held me by my thighs. Harry grunted as I did, and bucked his hips up as I started to pump him. This new position made him go deeper and faster, and his tongue slid down my slit until it reached my center and thrust it in once and again. 

Each of Harry’s moans added to the fire that had settled in my tummy, and it was becoming harder to keep up, to sit straight and not give up to the pleasure that was pushing down to take over my body. He didn’t seem to notice, though. His tongue swirled around my needy clit and I felt like my whole body was burning. 

“You’re fucking dripping,” Harry whispered, placing a kiss on my thigh to let me take a break.

“Please, don’t stop, please…

My walls were clenching around his tongue as soon as he started again, and I pulled his hair between my fingers, my only anchor to reality at that very moment. It wasn’t enough, cause soon I was grinding my hips on his face, losing control over myself as the world around me became blurry. He trapped my clit between his lips and sucked on it lightly, sending me over the edge of bliss as his name escaped my lips like a prayer. 

I was exhausted and shaky when I fell on the bed, and my peripheral vision had become fuzzy. When Harry’s weight pressed down to my body, I laughed, shifting down to feel him better against myself. 

“You’re ok?” He asked me but I didn’t answer. I kissed him instead, hungrily and needy, with my tongue lapping around his mouth and tasting myself on it. I licked his lips and sucked on the tip of his tongue and moaned when he sank his teeth on my bottom lip and pulled on it. 

My walls were still clenched and my stomach quivered as my high kept rolling in. 

“I’ve never been better,” I smiled as I laid back down, which Harry took as an opportunity to kiss down my jaw and trail his kisses down my neck and my collarbones. He reached my chest and his tongue felt cold against my clammy skin and I shivered when he licked my nipple and sucked and nibbled it lightly. 

But as I calmed down, I realized it wasn’t enough. I wanted it all, I was craving it. My legs hooked around his hips and I pulled him closer to me. I could feel his cock dragging up and down my slit, gliding between my folds as we both started to grind our hips. I was so wet that it was easy to coat him with my juices, and when he twitched, his little grunt echoed in the air. 

“Fuck me,” I begged, just as I had done before, but this time, I was gonna get my wish. 

“Ask nicely,” He grinned, and suddenly, his hips came to a stop, and I moaned, more in despair and need than anything else.

“Please, fuck me,”

It was delirious. Fucking delicious. His swollen tip burned lightly as he aligned himself to my entrance and he let it slide in, just barely, enough to open me up and make me bunch the fabric of the sheets between my fingers. His cock felt bigger and thicker than his fingers or his fingers or his tongue, and I clenched my walls around it, reacting to the foreign feeling, and trapping him there. 

“Fuck, Sof,” He moaned. My senses were heightened and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, even if I wanted to. I watched him as he let a ball of spit fall down to my pussy and gasped at the feeling of his fingers rubbing it on my clit. 

“God…” I gasped. As I adjusted to him, Harry thrust a little harder, until he was all in and my walls stretched around his cock to mold to it. 

We kissed again, this time a little more feverishly, and my hands pressed to his back, feeling his muscles work as he rocked his hips. I was aware of every inch of his cock as he thrust it slowly, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, hiding my face onto the crook of his neck and pressing sloppy kisses to his skin as he fucked me. 

“You feel so fucking good, Sof,” Harry whispered to my ear and the butterflies fluttered freely and wildly in my stomach. I forgot about everything that wasn’t him. My moans were strangled and shy, and my walls clenched around his cock with every new thrust. Harry went faster and deeper and I could feel him in my stomach if that was even possible. His eyes were closed, and the cold metal of his cross dragged up my skin with every new roll of his hips. 

“Kiss me, would ya?” I said, and that was enough to make him kiss me, sloppily and deeply, with every moan of his dying on my lips. My fingers tangled in his hair and I pulled on it, just to get a reaction out of him. His breath heaved and his hands went to my hips, to push me down and closer as went just a little rougher. 

It was too much, the weight of his body on top of mine, his kisses, the way his cock pushed between my walls, the fire that spread down all over my body. I felt blissful, aware of every inch of my body for the first time ever. I could get addicted to it. 

He was closer than he would like to admit, I could feel it in the way he scrunched his eyes closed and how he struggled to breathe. It was a shame that I wasn’t too sure of what to do to push him over the edge, but I tightened the grip of my legs around his hips and clenched my walls with every new thrust. He seemed to like it, cause he pinned me down to the bed, and groaned between his rough thrust, just as the muscles of his tummy and legs stiffened and he let out a warm laugh, that mixed with the quivers that rolled on his stomach.

“Fuck,” I heard him say, but I was too focused on the warmth that was filling me up, the juices that were dripping down his twitching cock as I tightened my walls around him. I laughed too, kissing him fully and deeply, as I brushed my fingertips down his spine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered against my lips, making me feel giddy all over. 

“You should’ve told me what I was missing,” I laughed. 

“Wanna go again? Maybe a couple more times?”

“How many?”

“Like 5?”

“I don’t think I can handle that, baby. We need to build up to it.”

“It’s alright, we have time.”

[somethinginthewayiam]

Request - Old Scar

a/n: @thereisa8ella​ thank you so much for your request. I really hope you like what I came up with. And I’m sure you will find that someone who will be by your side and be there for you!

Pairing: Henry x reader

Warnings: it’s pretty much in the request, also some angst and fluff

Words: 1265

It’s been years since it happened, a decade almost, and still it haunted you every year when the old scar in the back of your knee acted up. It was from a car accident that almost killed your mother. Although you had gotten help for your mental scars with years of therapy, the physical pain was harder to manage. You’ve had several surgeries over the years and you managed to shut down the constant pain. Now it only acted up when it's getting colder, so mostly in fall and winter.

This was your first fall with Henry as you started dating in summer. You stayed the weekend at his place as the well-known pain came back once again. You didn't have your meds with you, they were at home. You didn't think you would need them so soon.

You panicked inside as you planned on not telling Henry about it for as long as possible. This was not an easy conversation to have and you felt like you weren’t at the point with him to share such intimate and emotional stuff about yourself.

You two just have had lunch and you did the dishes as you felt the familiar tingling in your knee that always signalized the bigger pain to come a few hours later. You were somehow able to play over it and managed to go upstairs to "take a nap".

You walked into Henry’s bedroom and closed the door behind you. Your heart was racing and your breathing became heavy. Not because of the pain but of the panic and the helplessness you felt. You knew once the real pain hit, you wouldn’t be able to hide it from Henry. You contemplated with the thought of making up some excuse and going home, but you felt like that would make him even more suspicious and he would certainly not let you go without a real explanation. You just decided to actually take that nap and maybe you would wake up with a solution.

 You and Henry wanted to go to dinner in the evening. You got ready in the bathroom upstairs. You felt better after your nap and thought that maybe that that was it with the pain for today and you could actually make it through the rest of the weekend.

Henry was already done and waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. When you walked down you felt more than a tingle in your knee and froze immediately. It was just a few more steps before you would reach the ground floor, but right now they seemed undoable. You wished you could throw a stick or a ball for Henry to chase after it like Kal while you could wobble down the rest of the stairs.

You grinded your teeth while you took it step by step, literally. Just as you were at the last two stairs, a stronger pain shot through your knee. Your leg stiffened and you fell down the last stair, directly into Henry's arms.

“Whoa, hey, are you alright?”, he asked you, a bit rattled. “Yeah, uhm, just tripped over my own feet”, you waved it off, your voice shaky from the scare of almost falling on your face in front of Henry. “How silly of me”, you added. You weren’t able to look your boyfriend in the eyes. Of course, he noticed.

“Hey”, he said with a softer voice and his fingers found your chin, gently pushing your head up until you had to look him in the eyes. “Something’s up, I can see it your face”, he said and his thumb caressed your skin. You felt your eyes watering up. Henry frowned as he saw a tear slipping out of the corner of your eye and running down your cheek.

“You’re scaring me now, Y/N”, he said as he wiped the tear off your skin. “We have to go, we’re gonna miss our reservation”, you tried to change the subject and pulled your face from Henry’s hand. “Forget about the reservation. Let’s talk”, he said and grabbed your hand before you could step away from him.

When you turned your head, the look on his face…you really wanted to tell him everything. A sigh of defeat left your lunges and you walked around him towards the couch in the living room, limping as the pain in your knee made it hard for you to bend it properly. Henry followed you. He clearly noticed the limp, but he didn’t say anything.

He sat down next to you and immediately grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers with his.

And then you told him about your accident as a teen, about your therapy, multiple surgeries and the chronic pain you had ended up with. The day outside turned dark while you talked and it was already late when you finished. The dinner reservation long forgotten.

“That sounds horrible, darling. I’m so sorry you had to go through it”, Henry said. He held your hand the entire time. “Well, I had no choice but to work through it”, you shrugged your shoulders and wiped the tears off your face that had come and gone while you talked.

“I probably still have PTSD from shooting that Fallout helicopter scene. I know I make it sound like a joke, but it's real”, Henry told you and opened up to you too. “Also, I had knee surgery a few years back. It wasn’t even close to what you had, but I know about recovery and how hard it can be”, he told you further.

“I know”, you nodded your head. You had seen the photos and little videos on his Instagram. “And you’re right, it’s not the same. You’re fine now”, you said and tilted your head to the side. “Well, it healed pretty well, but it’s still a knee that’s been messed with. And I’m getting older, darling”, he joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. A small smile appeared on your lips. You appreciated the try.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me anything”, Henry said and pressed your hand reassuringly. “It’s not something I can talk about that easily”, you shrugged your shoulders. “But I’m glad you told me now”, he said and lifted your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Okay, let’s go”, he said and got up from the couch, wanting to pull you to your feet as well. You let it happen, but moaned when you put some weight on your bad knee.

“Henry, I really don’t feel like going out to eat anymore”, you said and pulled a face. Henry put his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest. He gave you a passionate kiss before he pulled back and spoke. “We’re gonna drive to your flat, get your meds and on our way back, we hit up the drive-through of McDonalds. What do you say?”, he asked.

You chuckled at his suggestion. “Sounds like a plan”, you nodded, still giggling. “Alright. I’m starving”, he said and just picked you up to carry you to his car. “Henry!”, you called out in surprise which turned into a fit of laughter.

Later, when you two ate your burgers in Henry’s car in the parking lot of McDonalds you looked over at him. The satisfied expression on his face as he finished his second cheeseburger and unwrapped burger number three at the same time made you smile. And at this moment, you knew that you loved this man.

[liam-cadmus]

Sasuke thumps his head on the table, annoyed at the cooing he can hear from upstairs. He straightens up before letting the wet rag fall on the counter, moving to the sink to wash his hands, wincing at Ino’s very loud squeal. He grumbles, before walking around the island, walking to the bottom of the stairs. “Ino, shut the fuck up!” he says calmly in a loud voice, listening to Ino closing the door upstairs and appearing on the top of the stairs with a journal? book? on her arms, with some pictures haphazardly balanced on top. 

She walks— sprints down the stairs, sidestepping him and dumping the pile on a table, her nails digging to his arm. “Sasuke, you didn’t tell me you were childhood sweethearts with Hinata!” she exclaims, making him splutter in disbelief, cheeks coloring in bemusement. “What do you mean? I never—” he caught sight of the pictures, before groaning, hiding his face in his palms. He doesn’t remember, and he didn’t expect that Ino will see this. He thought Ino was the better choice to help him with organizing his house, rather than Naruto and Sakura. 

“We were not sweethearts. We were just friends,” he enunciates, tone slightly defensive, “and besides, it broke off when the massacre happened.” he added glumly. Ino sighs out in exasperation, with pity? amusement? exhaustion? before flicking him on the forehead, spreading the pictures in a line. His brows raise when he caught some glimpses of Shikamaru’s hair, looking at Ino expectantly. “My mom was genin teammates with their dads. Playdates.” 

She huffs forlornly, “You three are hopeless.” He just gives her a shrug, watching over her shoulder as she looks at the pictures one by one. The pile doesn’t have that much pictures, mostly drawings with crayons with scribbled names or half-assed drawings, some with neat lines and proper colors and some mostly empty and scarce. She giggles at one, seeing a wobbly stroke of brown crayon, and small writing in the corner saying : Shika fell asleep again. - Hinata and Sasuke.

He rolls his eyes, failing to hide the smile slipping on his lips as Ino plucks a picture of Mikoto, Hiashi and Shikaku with their three kids in front, ranging around 2-3 years old, wobbly standing and holding unto each other with tight grips. “You were adorable,” she teases, hand hovering over his chubby cheeks and doe onyx eyes, making him scowl, “I was not.” 

“You were.” she laughs, “although you look like an cat hissing a fit whenever you’re scowling.” It was a running joke with Team 7, who at this point are used to his glares and scowls, his intimidation tactic failing, instead looking like one of the cats in the Uchiha compound. He nudges her shoulder instead, Ino taking another picture , moving platinum blonde hair away from her face, blue eyes lighting up in mischief. A shy Hinata peeks from behind him, with a dozing Shikamaru sitting on the ground on his other side, leaning on him. He has a wide smile, hand resting on the tiny brown ponytail. 

Ino snickers, as he takes another one, seeing the three of them wearing kimonos walking hand-by-hand on the streets, the orange tint of the lanterns reflecting off of their dark hair. There’s another one, with the camera close to their faces, a lavender eye and upturned pink lips on the left corner, with Shikamaru’s hair popping up from the bottom, Sasuke’s eye appearing on the right. “You were such cute kids.” she comments, Sasuke finding it hard to refuse the compliment. Maybe, he isn’t, but Hinata and Shikamaru definitely were— are. He flushes at the realization, averting his eyes and stacking the papers instead. 

He tugs on Ino’s shirt, making the woman stand, before relenting to his request, going up the stairs. “Fine, fine, I’ll get going with organizing it.” He smirks, “I’ll let you shift through them later, just finish them first.” She perks up, before darting up, the enthusiastic “Yes!” echoing. He doesn’t get why Ino is excited about it, after all, she was also Shikamaru and Hinata’s bestfriend, she should’ve seen their childhood photos. “I never saw yours, or ones with the three of you. They didn’t even tell me you were childhood sweethearts!” she answers his spoken out loud thought, he glowers grumpily at the sweethearts mentioned, before pocketing his hands. 

He wanders back to the kitchen, taking the discarded rag and wiping the marble counter, moving down to the bottom cabinets. He lets himself hum and get lost in his thoughts, efficiently barreling through his old essentials, throwing away the long used cleaning supplies. He dusts his pants off, swiping at the dust and cobwebs clinging on his arms, before washing his hands carefully. He runs a wet hand through his hair, the black strands staying out of his face as he dries his hands off.

The rest of the house is already clean and organized, including the Itachi’s old bedroom which was surprisingly in good condition, the awards and clothes well kept and free of dust. His old bedroom was easy to discard of the old stuff toys and smaller clothing, changing the muted blue bedding for dark grey, softer ones, and refilling his closet with clothes that do fit him, with his now better color scheme. He absently places the new tea cups on the counter before placing the kettle over open flame, taking the bags of groceries to the fridge while waiting.

He places the tin of cookies beside the cups, as he fills the fridge with fresh cartons of milk, alongside the newly bought perishable goods. He washes the vegetables, plucking a cherry tomato and eating it while placing the fruits in the basket. He pours hot water as the tea bag bobs on the surface, opening the cookie tin to get a shortbread, nibbling on it as he listens to the fumbling from upstairs, heard from the kitchen. He stays quiet as Ino budges the door open loudly, stomping down the stairs, the wood creaking loud as she appears in the doorway, papers flying in her wake.

She looks at him with a determinedly grim expression, offering a smile— that looks more like a grimace, before waving two scrolls in her hand. His mismatched eyes narrow in instinct, the gold sheen on the white paper and the chakra presence of his parents intact on the delicate sheet. “What is that supposed to be—?” he asks hesitantly, not liking the information about to be told. “I don’t know, you tell me. I just found them in a box named Sasuke, with a seal on it.”

A box with my name on it? he thinks incredulously, mouth opening to ask before he shuts it closed, taking the offered scrolls instead. His brows knitted together in concentration as Ino takes the full cup of tea, taking a chocolate cookie daintily. He channels his chakra through the frisky seal, before it opens, his parent’s chakra hitting him full-force. He unfurls the top with bated breath, meticulously written words with precise and sure strokes of ink in beautiful handwriting— his mother’s appear on the sheer reflective white paper. It’s a marriage contract, he realizes, as his eyes follow the words written, the stark black ink blurring against the blinding white.

Marriage contract. With the Hyuugas. Ensuring the bond, and making peace. No more fights. His Sharingan whirl in horror, even if he is inwardly pleased, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks. He blinks, each time dragging on longer, before he reads the last part, seeing the Hyuuga Hinata written in Hiashi Hyuuga’s writing, blocky straight letters against Fugaku’s neatly scribbled one. The date is stamped with the Hyuuga and Uchiha stamp, as he releases a tense breath, shaking fingers following the chakra infused signature of his father.

He stays there staring at his mother’s writing, the cursive handwriting and the loops making him reminiscent of his own, ‘pretty’ handwriting. He exhales through clenched teeth, before pushing it aside, Ino taking it from his hands. He focuses on the other one, blowing the hair out of his face while his chakra unlocks the seal. Ino lets out a surprised ‘ah’ of understanding, munching quietly while she mouths some words, her chakra simmering under her skin. “So it is a marriage contract,” she murmurs wistfully, rolling it to a scroll, “I had my suspicions.”

“I assume you already seen one of these?” he asks, while his eyes start to skim through a different handwriting, tilting his head on the swiftly written words, the ends of some letters dragging lazily. He inhales deeply in realization, Ino letting out some sort of squeak, her eyes widening. “That’s Yoshino Nara’s writing.” He winces, before pulling the curled bottom of the scroll, patting it flat on the counter as he catches on his name on the bottom. Again. With Shikamaru’s name on the side.

Ino whistles in a low voice, amusedly looking at the scrolls side-by-side. “You have a lot on your plate, Uchiha.” He groans, pinching his nose in annoyance before whining pitifully, “Why me.” Ino smirks. “Stop being dramatic, I’m sure your parents wouldn’t contract Itachi with a kid your age. And it seemed like you were being prepared as a heir for emergency situations.” He levels her with a flat stare, “Well, it worked out, because I somehow became the clan head.” he answers with his dry humor.

“Stop with your deprecating shit Uchiha, and find out a way with these.” she points to the scrolls, while he leans on the counter, resting his head on his palms. His elbow digs on the hard surface, but he pays it no mind, biting his lip. “Are these still true? I mean, isn’t Hinata and Shikamaru engaged right now?” he hisses, remembering the two lovebirds recently declaring it. He turns a hopeless glance at Ino, “Can I turn this down? Since my parents aren’t technically here to make it true?”

“Sasuke, you could ask Shikaku-san and Hiashi-san about it.” Ino admits, “Although I’m not sure how this will work considering it’s a chakra-focused marriage contract.” He blows a shaky breath out, before dropping his head on his arms. He mumbles, the sound muffled on his arms, while Ino leans closer to hear the muted, quiet voice. “I don’t want to ruin their marriage.” 

“You aren’t ruining it, Sasuke, you didn’t even know,” she insists, frowning at the tiredly spoken admission. “Maybe they can consider you?” she tries to lighten it, only receiving hunched shoulders and Sasuke burying his face further in his folded arms. The state of the Uchiha is depressing, the male still deep in his after-war depression, even if others are already moving on. Not that Ino can blame him, the people around him constantly crushing him down with whispers and insults behind his back, some of them failing to hide their disdain. 

She sighs, rubbing at her childhood friend’s arm, listening to Sasuke calming down his breathing, his chakra tense and tight like a string. She became Sasuke’s confidant, after his time in the cells, trusting her enough to let her look through his memories. She soothes him, until his chakra coils uncurls into light flickering. Sasuke rubs at his eyes in exhaustion, temples pounding and his eyes aching. She doesn’t open her mouth, instead helping Sasuke clean up the used cups and tin, wiping off the crumbs and droplets of tea on the counter, before taking the scrolls and placing it on the table. 

She arranges the pictures and drawings, placing the scrolls on the side, making sure to not let it roll off. “You know, you’re allowed to be loved, Sasuke.” she smiles, as Sasuke’s eyes dart to her in a glance, “You’re not unlovable, you just grew up unloved.” Dark mismatched eyes cloud over as she pats his shoulder, “I’m here, your team’s always here. You’re not alone. Not anymore.” she presses her cheek on his, “You’re like my little brother now.” 

Sasuke huffs a amused breath, “I don’t fit in the little, in your description.” he says, but hugs her nonetheless, letting himself be vulnerable for once. “You’re always gonna be like a little brother, you don’t have the bones to be an older one.” Sasuke turned misty eyes to her, “I guess not.” 

“You’ve always have been. Now, I’m gonna go and let you settle in. Just send me a hawk, Chiya if possible, when you want or need help, okay?” she says, while she tightens the laces on her shoes, the door ajar. He nods, “I’ll think about it. Thank you, Ino.” She flashes him a smirk, making him grunt in amusement, as she flips her hair over her shoulder. “Ta-ta.” 

The door slams shut, as the tea cups dry off on the rack, while he returns them in their proper places, eye trailing over to the scroll on his way to the stairs. He stops by the table, thumb grazing the seals while he sits down, letting his cheek sit atop his hand. His eyes reads the words again, repeating it over and over his head, dazed. He takes two empty sheets of paper, taking a brush and an ink pot before settling down on the chair. 

He writes with clear lines, signing the letter with a flourish. He seals the scrolls with his chakra, stamping an Uchiha crest on the outside before summoning two hawks, tying it securely in their claws. Ishi and Aya stays on his shoulders, rubbing their wings on his duck butt of a hair affectionately before flying out the opened window, flapping of wings disappearing into the night. Hopefully, they receive his invitation, and talk about the contract. 

No, Shikaku did not die. And yes, Sasuke does have two intact arms. Bless me, I wrote this at 10 pm, and finished in 2 hours. I need sleep. I think I forgot to emphasize that Sasuke has a Rinnegan-

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothed Ch. 6 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 6: Bold

Summary: Two pretty unusual family meetings, but one of them lacks a happy end.

Warnings: Angst, Family Drama.

Words: ~4300

Story Masterlist

A/N: Tumblr accidentally posted the unfinished draft a few days ago. Sorry for the confusion! As a treat, you get a very long chapter! (:

Before you were married, Illumi was rarely at home.

He had no one to come home to anyway, let alone someone who cared.

Anyway, this was only one of many things you had changed.

These times, whenever he left, it was only for a good reason like missions, training or caring for his siblings. Sometimes family conferences you were allowed to attend as well, yet not to talk.

Whenever he got home, it felt so cozy and peaceful.

Like he was welcomned and safe here - unlike anything he knew before.

Your home would always smell like scented candles, the many flowers you had planted at the balconry, and whatever you were cooking at the time.

It was very lovely and kinda cheesily decorated by now. Most of the things were stuff you asked Illumi to bring home from his missions, but lately he got you anything he thought you'd like.

Of course you were grateful for everything. It meant he took the time and actually think about what you'd appreciate!

Occasionally, you’d bring home injured animals you found in the forrest surrounding Kurokoo mountain. Sometimes your husband reluctantly assisted you, even though he found kindness futile - he just couldn’t say no to your begging eyes, so be it.

From you, he got love and care in return for his efforts. But a wild animal? Well, if he thought about it, he consdiered himself lacking a real consciousness just as much as the pets you kept.

One day, he’ll understand why people help each other without wanting something back - you promised him. Even though he always emphasized that saving such small lives won’t redeem him anyway.

Yes, the weight of his sins was sure massive - especially now that it all broke down on him, suffering under his newfound sympathy.

You swiped through your phone, adoring all the photos you persuaded him to take together.

It filled your heart with joy to notice every small change he underwent:

He'd run himself a bath from time to time, buy sweets or other things to try out, and spent his free time reading or wandering the estate's forrest instead of thoughtlessly staring into the void.

And for the more nasty things, well...let’s just say Illumi is a quick learner. And you were glad that he began taking the initiative and try out things he may enjoy.

Your husband was more and more developing a personality.

"She's so pretty!"

"Yeah, right?" you proudly commanded the owl to come back, and she immediately landed on your lap. "Her name is Luna."

“She was a gift from big bro Illumi, right?” Your familiar had grown strong very fast, yet it's claws never hurt you. Sometimes you almost forgot that Luna was a dangerous animal rather than a cuddly pet. “Yes, she is!”

"Maybe we can play in the forrest some day. I just need some time to convince your parents."

Alluka was sitting on a chair next to you, cheerfully petting the patient bird. "Thanks, big sis!"

Illumi's little sister was probably the only normal person in this building. No nen, no assassin training either, and a loving nature.

If only there wasn't-

"Y/N!" Oh no. Your husband was back earlier than you expected. "Did you bail her out again?!"

"Big bro!" the little girl cheered, jumping down the stair and wobbling to his direction.

There was not the slightest hint of hate inside of her. Even though she was alone all the time, she was blissfully unaware about her own family resenting her.

"Illumi!" That was the first time you actually raised your voice against him. "Take.down.the. needle. Right now!"

You kept Alluka from getting closer to Illumi, defendingly wrapping your arms around her.

God knows what he'd do...

"Then get that thing out of my face."

Actually, you didn't want to fight in front of a child, but Alluka needed constant superveilance . "How can you be so cruel? She's your sister!"

"Did you make a wish?"

"Of course not! I used my nen to get her out unnoticed, so she could spent some time like a normal child. I would've brought her back tonight. That's all, really! I promise!"

Suddenly, you felt a foreign, powerful aura under your palms.

Damn it.

You forgot her last wish was a hug, which was exactly what you gave her right now.

"Aye."

"That's enough." Illumi already had his needles prepared, infusing them with nen. "I'll end this right here."

You knew he didn't mean it like this. He was afraid of Nanika's powers, and even if this wouldn't end in a disaster, his parents would punish you for your reckless actions.

"Nanika?"

The girl answered, her blackened orbs obediantly glaring at you. "Aye?"

"Y/N" Illumi almost growled, still hesistant. "Know your place."

"Give Illumi a hug."

Baffled, Illumi's needles disappeared into thin air. The girl didn't even reach up to the tall man's thorso, rather embracing one of his legs.

She was so small and weak and fragile - and for the first time, Illumi was able to acknowledge the affection his sister felt for him.

"See?" you calmly explained, now hugging him as well. "Nanika is not evil. Only the people's wish are."

"...she's all alone" he spoke to himself, trying to at least logically understand the situation. "Just like you when I'm gone."

He didn't get it.

Hard enough to understand why you were caring so much about him, but Alluka? The sibling he always despised, insulted, abused, and locked away?

There were still so many things he didn't know yet.

"Well, if it's only the two of you, and I'm supervising..." he mumbled, kneeling down to the girl's height, "Then I guess I can promise you a few liberties."

Alluka's face and aura were back to normal, her glimmering eyes blinking happily at her brother, who was absentmindedly petting her hair.

"Great!" You clasped your hands together, disappearing in the kitchen. "Let's make a hot chocolate for you guys!"

Quickly, you reappeared to the two sitting on the sofa with an awkard distance, until you wrapped them in a blanket.

Illumi sat in middle of you two, deeply buried in thought while you and Alluka were watching TV until she fell asleep.

"I'll bring her back now" you whispered softly, but Illumi already cradled the snoring girl into his arms. "No. I will."

For a second, you were taken aback, unsure about his intentions - but you wanted to believe in him, so you stayed quiet about your apprehensions.

"She's cute, right?" you noticed as Illumi got a strand of hair out of her face. He held her with such great care and insecurity, it was a truly cute sight.

"Dunno. I know the definition of cute, but I don't think I really understand it."

"You are cute, for example." Placing a wet kiss on his cheek, you waved him goodbye as he walled out the door - but in the frame, he stopped.

"You're changing so many things at once."

"For better or worse?"

Illumi wouldn't turn around to look at you, instead watching Alluka's soundly sleeping face.

"I don't know. We'll see."

When Illumi took longer than expected, panic began to rise inside of you.

Did his parents find out? Due to your powers this should basically be impossible, but still-

"Alluka wanted me to stay and play with her" Illumi's voice appeared behind your back, making you jump a little.

So that's why he took so long.

"Was it fun?"

"I'm not a good brother" he murmured, "Not to her or any of them."

He remembered the time he got Kalluto a kimono you picked out for him, as a gift. 

“You’ve changed” the boy said back then, and the confusion in his eyes made Illumi painfully aware that the child was close to become just as inhuman as he was.

And he was the one who teached his siblings to be that way.

Your husband sat on the edge of the bed, with you already laying inside. He buried his face into his hands, seemingly distressed.

Yes, it was fun. Even though he didn't know how to properly entertain a child, Alluka seemed to enjoy her brother's attention inconditionally - just like you did.

Was that love?

"You just tried to protect your family, Lumi" you cooed, massaging his tensed shoulders.

"What about yours?" he suddenly asked, turning to you with a stony expression.

"I, uh-"

"Do you miss them?" Seems like he was afraid to lose you.

You tugged on his arm until he'd finally let himself fall into the bed, and you put an arm and leg around him, effectively trapping him into your hold.

"Of course I do. But this is my home now."

"And they're nice people?" he wondered, since your parents were assassins too.

He laid his head onto your chest, trying for your heartbeat to lull him to sleep.

"They are...special. Strict but loving. I think all parents fuck up their children somehow. But I still love them."

Both of you had already closed your eyes, his cold skin feeling refreshing on your warm one.

"Then let's meet them" Illumi suggested as his hand ran across your bodyline, before he stopped himself with a tender kiss on your skin.

"I want to know what other families are like."

Only a week later, you were allowed to leave the Zoldyck estate for the first time. Wether it was because of Illumi’s curiosity or maybe that he knew you missed your family, it didn’t matter.

Two different worlds.

Your family was living in the midst of the small town, loved by the inhabitants. Being honorable head hunters who mainly killed wanted criminals and acting as protectors of the city, you had kind of a reputation.

So it was no wonder everyone you saw greeted you with great respect, yet also as if you were never gone.

That was what a real home must feel like, Illumi thought as he watched you casually talk to anyone who recognized you while both of you wandered the main street.

“They sure think highly of you” he deducted out loud, seeing how anyone was smiling and cheering at you.

“Well...” Flustered, you rubbed the back of your head as you kept on walking, “I’ve grown up in between those people. Of course they know me! That’s all.”

“Mhh” he murmured, still eyeing everyone quite suspecting. This was your first day outisde the manor, and your husband would be damned if something would happen to you.

“There it is!” Already running ahead, you pointed at the tallest building of the town - your birthplace.

“Y/N Y/L/N” a familiar voice behind you spoke, trying way too hard to keep a straight face.

Turning around, you saw all of your siblings gathered at one spot. Of course you knew they had followed you this whole time, due to your nen - but it was still a pleasant surprise. “You guys!”

Giving each one of them a wholeheartedly hug, you immediately began to chatter about all kinds of things. You haven’t seen each other for a while, and you wanted to know everything.

“Better tell me next time” Illumi abruptly cut you off, and only now you realized the needles in between his fingers. “I almost killed them.”

Oh. So he noticed them too.

Well, your family had it worse, so they just laughed it off.

“So this is your husband, huh?” They didn’t dare speak his name - the family was too infamous, and not in a positive way. it wouldn’t really gain you the good kind of attention. “I thought you’d be more...intimidating.”

All of your siblings got way too close to Illumi, aving hands in front of his face and eyeing his appearance, at least trying to make the stoic man react in any way.

“Nice to meet you!” One of your brothers offered his hand for your husband to shake, yet Illumi decided on staring him down instead.

“Pleasure is all mine” he retorted in his robotic way, sounding way too fake for anyone to buy it.

At least they were not afraid of him. Your husband was very talented in hiding his bloodlust, after all - even though it was constantly there, not even a skilled nen user would notice.

“Mother and father are awaiting you at the usual spot.” Your brother’s voice was more serious now that he had assessed the situation.

It was clear from the very first moment that they didn’t only come to greet you - their main goal was the eldest Zoldyck.

“Seems like he’s now our leader” you pondered as all of them dispersed into different directions. 

Things had changed. Of course they did.

Back then, you declined your fate of becoming the clan-leader, even though it had been the centre of all your ambitions up until now.

Meeting Illumi made you question anything you expected from life.

You didn’t even know why: What would it matter if you left an assassin family just to join another one?

Even your youngest sister was different. You could feel her steady aura, meaning she had completed her training.

The situation made you both nostalgic and anxious.

“Do you regret it?” Illumi’s blank stare turned to your form, black orbs interrogating you. He knew you were meant to be a leader, yet you gave up on that dream and had laid down all your independency.

“Not really.” Shrugging, you quickly linked arms with your husband, leading him to the secret entrance of the headquarters. It was sealed with nen, just like back then.

At leas that didn’t change, and so you’d soon find yourself in the middle of the hall where you’d plan all of the operations back then.

“You’re home.” That solemn tone was fitting for your father: Hard to detect his emotions, but easy to understand. “Welcome home.”

Illumi took a few steps back, almost withdrawing into a dark corner of the room as if he wanted to disappear from this earth. He was more likely to be a mere bystander or observer than to be in social situations.

“My little angel of death!” your mother almost cried out, both incredibly happy and sorrowful. “You’ve returned to us!”

“And that handsome young man over there?” After she was done smothering your face in kisses, she directed her welcoming nature to Illumi was well. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Take a seat!”

That’s right. She’s never seen him before. He was here exactly once to propose in front of your father - god knows how he even got inside. Obviously it wasn’t really a big deal to him.

Your family was so insignificant compared to his heritage - not that it mattered to you, it was just an observation.

“When we heared your wish to bid our humble fort a visit, we were greatly honored” your father declared as all of you sat down at the great, round table. Now everyone was there: Siblings, uncles and aunts, even your grandparents and great-grandparents. “And we are glad of your safe arrival.”

Illumi didn’t really seem to be impressed, being able to silence the room with a single gesture of his hand. “Don’t go out of your way. I am here because Y/N wished to see you.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his polite manner, even though he wasn’t very talkative. Trying to get a hold of his hand under the table, you’d spend the day just like that.

Hours just flew by as your family held a great dinner to honor ‘the happy couple’, with Illumi absorbing every little detail like a dry sponge: Daily conversations about irrelevant topics, tales about the past and especially the childhood.

He even managed to show a lopsided smile when he realized something made you particulary happy.

Yet everytime someone of your family tried to get close to you, all of you noticed how tense he became.

Of course he was very possessive, and didn’t want to share you with anyone. But it was so damn sweet that he at least tried to get himself together...

“I’ll be waiting outisde. Might give the town a visit.” Even through all of your objections, your husband was gone faster than any of you could comprehend. “Take all the time you need.”

“He’s amazing” you thought to yourself, not noticing how much you were trembling due to your excitement. Being here together with him was such a huge progress, and he was doing so damn great.

“Y/N?” Your father was the first one to take the word, clearing his throat before continuing. “Now that we’re alone...”

Of course he knew they weren’t. Illumi was supervisioning everything somehow. But they waited for so long, and needed to let it out.

It was ‘speak now or stay silent forever’.

“Tell us about life with the Zoldycks.” Your sister once again let her hand run up and down your arm, and you realized this wasn’t just loving closeness - they were searching for injuries. “Are they harsh on you?”

“His family is pretty crazy, but it’s nothing wild, really. I manage” you stated, pulling away from the touch of your siblings.

All of the eyes were on you now, dropping the act. Everything left was sympathy and...guilt?

“So...what’s your point?” You didn’t know why, but their glares made you furious somehow. Maybe because you knew what they were hinting at. “Just speak your mind.”

“Y/N, dear...” Now your mother was the one taking the initiative, squeezing your hand ever so slightly. “We’re so, so sorry! You need to understand why we did this, okay?”

“Did what?” When they didn’t respond, you repeated the question with a much weaker, almost broken voice. “Did...what?!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” your brother now spoke, almost disgusted by what he was about to say. “Giving you away to this...freak.”

“Huh?”

Your mother now clung to you, as if you were about to disappear if she was to ever let go. “There was no other choice!” she exclaimed, while your father dramatically swung his balled fist on the table. “The Zoldycks are dangerous! We knew your fate was sealed when he came asking for your hand in marriage...”

“Of course we despise that sick weirdo. Who would wish for their child to be with someone like him?!” your father continued, his explanation wrenching your heart dry. “But if we hadn’t complied, they would’ve taken you by force. You know they would’ve killed all of us. It was to protect the family, so we had to give you up! My sweet, sweet child-”

“-shut up” you whispered as you felt tears burning in your eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/N” your sister was trying to wipe them away, letting her thumb run over your cheek. “We’ve grown stong now, Y/N! You don’t need to protect us anymore, we’re-”

“You still don’t stand any chance against them.” You got up from your chair, slamming your palms on the table. “But that’s not the point!”

“What did that monster do to you?” 

“Oh, he? Nothing!” you now screamed, slamming a plate to the ground to release some of the built-up tension. “In opposite to you, who abandoned their daughter to save their own skin!”

You didn’t know. How could you have missed that fact? Those people weren’t glad you married him, they just weren’t honest with you.

And they were selfish - for all they cared, they would’ve given you away to die if Illumi had been that way.

“My husband-” you choked on a sob, feeling as if the love you felt for Illumi was crushing you, keeping you from breathing freely. “He’s been here with you, wanting to understand what a normal family is like. But only now I realize this one is just as fucked up!”

“Don’t say something like tha-”

“I’m not done!” Suddenly, an outburst of your aura shook the whole room. “Illumi is a kind and confused person. He was benevolent with you, against all of his teachings. And you are talking behind his back? How cowardly of you. I thought we were a family of proud warriors!”

All of them were looking at each other, nodding in unity as they all thought the same.

“Illumi Zoldyck is probably the most dangerous of them all. Maybe not the strongest, but the most mad of them all.” You grid your teeth, almost snarling at your grandfather’s words. “Don’t fool yourself, Y/N. Love is a foreign concept for him. The word has spread across the whole continent: Even his own family, those bloodthirsty monsters fear that young man!”

“You don’t know him like I do.” Turning around, you prepared to leave - but your siblings blocked the way. “As if I’d listen to the opinions of people who gave me away just like that.”

“Listen to us, Y/N. Maybe you can free yourself. He might’ve placed a needle-”

“That’s enough.”

Your eyes widened in wonder. How did Illumi get back in without any of you noticing?

Yet here he was, and his aura had turned purple, stained with black from all the disappointment, hurt and anger he miraculously contained without breaking down.

“I think Y/N is tired and wants to leave.” His voice was as unaffected as always, yet one look of him was enough to make your siblings freeze in terror.

“You’re Y/N’s family, so I won’t kill you” your husband declared in an absentminded tone, grabbing your wrist and turning towards the exit without anyone daring an attempt to stop him. Just after he shoved you out of the door, Illumi would turn around one last time -  a threatening ember sparkling in his eyes.

“But consider this a warning: Y/N belongs to me.”

“Why?” your father asked with an almost begging undertone. “Why did it have to be Y/N?”

“Because your child is important to me.”

Illumi had carried you all the way out of the town, only getting to a hold when you were at a mountain far enough away. Not that your family would follow you anyway.

After being done crying to your heart’s extend, your husband let you down in the slightly wet grass, and you were able to see the dim lights of the city far away at the horizon.

“We’ve played here very often” you sniffled, trying to get a hold of yourself. “My siblings and I.”

“Ah.”

You appreciated moments like these. Illumi was a very good listener, even though you weren’t even sure that he actually cared about what you were saying.

It just felt good to have him near when you were sad.

“I’m so terribly sorry, Lumi...they shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t You knew he tried to hard to be the best version of himself today, to try and respect boundaries and to trust people, and yet- “I am aware I’m a repulsive person.”

“Not to me.” Gently stoking his face, you could feel him rubbing his cheek on your palm in return.

“That’s enough for me.”

For a while, you just sat there, enjoying your closeness and the absence of anyone else in silence.

“So this is what family is like” Illumi cut through the nature’s sounds, “They protect you. And they only want your best.”

“They only ever thought of themselves.” You pulled your knees onto your chest, burying your face in them.

“I refuse to believe that.” Your husband wanted to pat your back, but decided against it just at the last second. “They seemed to be in great pain because of their actions. Can’t this only be because they cared about you?”

He was right, of course. The man with the heart of stone was great at knowing other people’s feelings, apparently. What an irony.

But you were too angry at that moment to listen to his rational explanation. That was only human, too.

“You know, when I was a child, my parents-”

“Please.” You wanted him to stop right there and now. “Don’t elaborate.”

Every time Illumi would complete a story about his childhood, it usually ended up with you having a crying fit. Then he was the one having to console you instead of the other way around, and it made you only feel guilty.

Of course you were happy that he’d finally open up a little, but...no. Just not now.

“You defended me” he changed the topic, quietly adding “Even though they were right...”

“That’s only natural. You’re my husband.”

Back then, you didn’t know Illumi’s intentions when he asked you to become his. But truth was, you didn’t regret it - not even for a second.

Illumi on the other hand was as overwhelmed as always.

“I was afraid you’d stay with them.” His voice sounded impassive, yet you knew him better than that. “But now-”

Listening to you passionately defending your husband’s honor was satisfying, obviously - yet knowing you broke with your family left a foul aftertaste in his mind.

No one ever stood up for him like that.

What a day.

His mind was racing, still trying to catch up with everything that had happened today: You did all of that, no - gave up so many things, just because of him.

His entire life was going one set and predetermined way, revolving around his family. Yet meeting you had changed both of your fates in a completely different direction.

And this meant he now had to learn with the consequences of actions he did out of his own, free will.

What for? And was it good or bad?

Now that he was with you, he had liberties. Choices. But freedom felt wrong and made him feel...scared? Not even he could decipher his emotions very well.

All that was clear from now on that - to a certain extend - you were free to draft your own ways - and together, it didn’t seem all that bad for him.

_____

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[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (9)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 5K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Notes: I won’t lie. I didn’t reviewed the last part lol Sorry, guys. But good news! I’m writing the chap 12 and things are going smoothly /o/

Updates: I’ll update it once a week [Tuesdays] because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner

                                                        /////

    You have never seen the Gym so damn crowded before.

    You tried to make your way to the front seats ─ a difficult task as people didn’t seem to have a clue the bloody chairs were made to sit down ─ groaning as you got stuck between some people in the way, struggling to get past them. You turned your head around as you felt someone tap on your shoulder, searching who the hell thought it was a good time for chatting right now.

    “I think I’m going to buy something” Paris yelled for you to listen, and you nodded to let her know you understood it. You watched her going back to where you just came from, shaking your head in disbelief as you wondered how she could put up with taking this route twice. Hyunjin pushed you softly, pleading eyes screaming he wanted to go to the seats as soon as possible, all those people around upsetting him.

    “I swear to god I’m never coming with you ever again” He whined, holding your shoulder to not lose you in the crowd. You chuckled, pushing people around until you felt it was easier to walk through the aisle.

     “Oh, I think I see Han” You mentioned surprised, stretching your neck to get a better view. Hyunjin followed your gaze, his height allowing him to see way better than you. He nodded, curving to get closer to your ear as he yelled his confirmation, letting you know that the small guy you saw next to a huge older man was indeed Han.

    “Maybe it’s a scout or something? Should we go to him right now?” You mused, and Hyunjin shrugged, finally getting space to walk beside you and letting go of your shoulder.

    “There’s just one way to know” He said before getting both hands cupping his mouth as he screamed, “Hey, Han!” The shout startled him, making him look through the crowd to spot who was yelling his name. You could see his eyes lit up as he spotted you, a bright smile spreading on his face as he waved his hand eagerly.

     The man followed his gaze to spot you and Hyunjin; giving a bright smile that seemed exactly the same as Han’s. He waved more discretely, and you wondered if you ever saw him and just didn’t recognize him. You made your way to them, now far more easily than back to the entrance, which allowed you to quickly make your way down the stairs.

    “Hey!” You smiled, clasping your hand with his as you pulled him to a half-hug, patting his back affectionately as you did “Prepared to humiliate those losers?” He chucked, letting go of your hand and straightening himself as the older man laughed wholeheartedly to your encouragement.

    “That’s how you do it!” He approved, extending his hand to shake yours. You took a look at him, his obvious resemblance to Han didn’t let any doubt but he said it anyway “I’m his father” then smiled at you just like Han does. You smiled back, squeezing his hand politely but firmly, getting a proud smile as an answer “Nice handshake” He praised, and somehow you felt proud of it.

    “Thank you, Sir” He chuckled, letting go of your hand to shake Hyunjin’s hand, seeming to approve of him too as he hummed satisfied “I’m Y/N and this is my friend” You pointed to Hyunjin, knowing you would get a jeer if you said they were friends.

     “Oh, friends, I see…” He said suggestively looking at you and Hyunjin with a small smile “I never saw you on the photos he sends me” He admitted, looking at Hyunjin in wonder “Now, you are always there” He smiled fondly at you “I heard a lot about you and Paris from Champ! Didn’t she come?” He asked curiously, looking around.

     “Champ?” Hyunjin blurted out, laughing and sending a teasing look to Han who just groaned, kicking his father’s leg lightly.

     “Dad!” He hissed, making you laugh. His father laughed along, head-locking him and ruffling his hair as if he was a kid, letting him go as he looked all serious at Hyunjin, who quickly recomposed himself and stood straight, clearly afraid of his father.

     “Is that a problem, buddy?�� He asked intimidatingly, for which Hyunjin shook his head eagerly. Han’s father was way taller than him and maybe a head taller than Hyunjin. He wasn’t really build up but he was really fit for what you could imagine was his age; a large chest and defined arms suggested he kept up with some exercise routines.

    He kept his glare at Hyunjin for a few moments, deadpanned, before breaking into a fit of laughter, patting his shoulder playfully and wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. You noticed Han trying to hide his smile, looking away, nudging him as you shared a knowing look and broke into a fit of giggles.

    “Calm down, son” His father said to Hyunjin, smiling brightly. You chuckled as Hyunjin visibly relaxed, shoulders dumping and a relieved sigh leaving his lips “So Paris didn’t come?” He asked again, seeming disappointed, and you were fast to shake your head.

    “She came! She just went to buy something” You explained hurriedly, looking around “She should be here at any minute…” You mused, starting to worry about her. Paris wasn’t exactly the best at finding seats or remembering her way. You glanced around for a few more seconds before returning your gaze reluctantly at them “Well… Anyway… It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir” You smiled politely.

     “No, that’s my pleasure!” He waved his hand dismissively “I’m happy to know my Champ made some good friends here” He smiled proudly, looking at Han fondly. You fought back a smile, finding endearing how much affection you could see in his eyes “I didn’t think I could make it today… I had to ask a friend to cover for me at work but I couldn’t be happier! Meet Champ’s friends and see him playing here!” His eyes shone, kinda glossy, and you noticed how his voice faltered for a bit “I couldn’t be more proud” He added, emotional.

    “You should be! Our team has been winning all the matches until now! Han doesn’t let a single ball hit the ground on his watch” You joked, getting a loud laugh from his father. You saw in the corners of your eyes how Han shrunk, embarrassed by your input, fighting back a smile as he rubbed his own arm, looking away.

     “Well! I didn’t expect any less from my Champ!” He bragged as he laughed, pulling Han closer with one arm, his hand on his shoulder shook him a little bit, all proud, and you frowned as soon as you realized how nervous Han seemed to get “He’s following my steps” His father added, and you raised your brows, surprised “I was a player here too! This very same championship got me into a Team!”

     Oh… So that was it.

     Han was nervous about the match, obviously, and his father being a player couldn’t help either. You glanced at him, seeing how he seemed tense: Brows furrowing, head almost buried between his shoulders, lips pursed and eyes holding so many thoughts that for a moment you wondered if it really was Han.

     You never saw him this worried before.

     You opened your mouth to say something ─ anything that could help him to relax a bit ─ but your train of thoughts was interrupted by a loud Paris. You turned around; spotting Paris with a huge foam glove that could have easily at least twice her head size, a big #1 hanging from the index foam finger. You checked for the other reactions, glancing to see if they thought it was as random as you thought.

    Hyunjin burst out laughing, hiding his face behind his hand, trying to not seem rude as he laughed his ass off at the sight. Han widened his eyes and arched his brows, surprised by the huge glove and the happiest Paris he ever saw, striding your way too much excited with her new accessory wobbling in the air. Han’s father fought back a smile, looking at you knowingly before looking at his own son.

     “So… Is she your girlfriend?” He asked suggestively before Paris got close enough to hear it. You held back your laugh, looking at how flustered Han got, blushing as he straightened up, and shooting you some desperate looks before turning back to his dad.

    “W-What?! Of course not!” It was like he just hit puberty ─ voice sounding high pitched and strangled ─, and his eyes went wide as he answered his father in shock “She’s just a friend! What the hell, dad?!” He floundered, nervous, and it was impossible not to laugh at him. You nudged Hyunjin, happy to see Han embarrassed like this to the thought of dating Paris.

    They were so cute!

    Hyunjin smiled knowingly as he looked at you, blinking and rolling his eyes as if he couldn’t believe your enthusiasm about something as simple as Han getting flustered. He wouldn’t understand! It was like your ship was sailing right in front of your eyes after a long time. You deserved that happiness and they did too!

     “What is it? Family reunion?” Minho’s voice dragged you out of your mind, startling you “Meeting father-in-law?” He asked, smiling teasingly at you as he leaned on Han’s shoulder, showing their obvious height difference. You narrowed your eyes to him, ready to retort when his father gasped, looking surprised at both of them.

    “Oh? Is he your boyfriend?” His tone was curious though not judging, and you suppressed a smile as Minho let his mouth fall agape, arm jolting to his side as he let go of Han’s shoulder. Hyunjin snorted, looking at Minho deeply satisfied by his bashful features, crossing his arms as he smirked at him.

     “No! I’m his teammate, Sir!” He straightened up, bowing briefly “My name is Lee Minho and I’m a huge fan of yours” He extended his hand, holding his arm to show how much he respected him, which Han’s father took in a playful way, shaking his hand enthusiastically before laughing.

    “You can always be a fan and a son-in-law” He pointed out, to which Minho blushed. Oh, Lord! You never thought you would see the Lee Minho ─annoyingly extrovert Lee Minho, who always teases you─ blushing to something like this. He cleared his throat, waving his hand effusively.

    “No, no! Just a teammate” He assured, and this made you laugh. Han facepalmed, sighing tiredly at all his surroundings and looking at each one of you, defeated, as he cupped his forehead, making you nudge him with your foot to give him a thumb up. He’s great, you mouthed, smiling at him encouragingly, which seemed to have a good effect as he smiled back at you, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.  

     The moment was broken by his coach yelling on a megaphone, demanding his team to gather together and stop playing around. You chuckled when Minho and Han grimaced, looking at each other worried, waving to all of you before jogging to the court. You followed them with your eyes, clasping your hands together as soon as they reached their team.

    “Okay, so let’s sit!” You decided, looking for the letters beside the seats, trying to spot your row. Han’s father seemed to ignore you for a bit, looking at Paris in silence for a few seconds, studying her foam glove for a moment.

    “Nice to meet you, Sir, I’m Paris” She said abruptly, extending her other hand to him, probably realizing it wouldn’t be very polite to ignore your friend’s family. He smiled at her, shaking her hand excitedly before pointing to her gloves.

    “Nice one” He raised his index finger, as to suggest he was joking about the number, and she seemed to like the awful joke because she returned the smile and gun-fingered him after snapping her fingers.

    “Thank you! Nobody ever complimented my gloves… That’s a first!” You sighed, looking at Hyunjin to find him judging both of them just like you, grimacing as he darted his eyes between both of them. Han’s father was in stitches; hand in his stomach as he threw his head back to laugh. You raised your brows, looking at Paris, who seemed proud of her own joke, laughing along with him.

   Well, at least they would like each other.

   “Help me find the seats” You whispered to Hyunjin, giving him the tickets as you looked around, deciding to give both of them their bonding time. Hyunjin took the tickets gratefully, ready to walk away from their poor sense of humor “I can’t find the bloody row” You complained, looking for the letter on the ticket. Did they need to hide the damn information? Was it worth gold or something? Your College’s court was much better organized than this!

   “What the fuck?” Hyunjin whined, looking confused at the ticket “Are they going to get paid if we don’t find it or something?”

    Exactly your point!

    “Oh, we must be on the same row! Han choose your seat too?” You heard Paris beam, looking at her own ticket as he talked to Han’s father. He took her ticket, studying it for a few moments before smiling.

   “Come with me, we’re sitting together” He said, and you thanked God you wouldn’t need to find the damn row on those tiny letters. You followed him, sitting next to Paris, Hyunjin following right behind you. You crossed your leg as soon as you sat down, checking your phone for any new messages to wait for time to pass by.

    It took a long time.

    Hyunjin tried to make some small talk once in a while since Paris seemed really immersed in her talk to Han’s father and you stood there glancing at the court a few times, as you scrolled down the feed to distract yourself. You chuckled as you heard Han’s father explaining the general rules to her, certain that she would forget everything just like she did when Han tried to explain it to her.

    “They seem nervous” Hyunjin mentioned randomly, risking a glance at you. He must be feeling out of place to try to have small talk like this, so you nodded, dropping your phone back to your purse before looking at him. All of them were finishing warming up, although some ─ like Han─ seemed to be a little bit distracted by their own thoughts.

   “Well, it’s a decisive game after all… Some of them may get scouted to big teams and some of them may have to wait another year to get this opportunity again” You reasoned “It must be hard…” You looked at Han, who seemed way stiffer than his usual self before his matches. You never saw him so anxious, wide eyes darting to his father once in a while, lips bruised by his teeth, and clenched fists that turned his knuckles white.

    Suddenly, all the players went to greet each other, placing themselves on their side of the court and preparing to take their positions. You bit your lips, excited, eyeing Han as he took his place in the middle of the court, attentive to the other team that would begin with the ball. Although he was nervous, you thought Han did a great job of reaching for the balls, saving a lot of nearly lost ones, and guaranteeing it didn’t touch the floor, letting his team works unworried.

    The match was tight, and it didn’t surprise you that they needed to get to a golden set.  

    The sixth set was just as tight as the other ones.

     You got up from your chair, cheering as loud as you could along with Paris and Han’s father, anxiously looking at the scoreboard. You fisted your hands when you saw the bright numbers 13/14, meaning your team was winning. One more point. Just one more. You pursed your lips as you watched Minho serve the ball, the tiny object crossing their court fast as a bullet.

    To hit the net.

    You shut your eyes, exhaling slowly, as the ball fell to the floor, giving the rival team an effortless point. You opened your eyes again, watching the score even though you knew the numbers would be shining with 14/14, sighing as you watched all the team rubbing Minho’s back to reassure him. He looked pissed off at himself, and you couldn’t blame him.

   It could have been their victory right now.

   The next point was faster than you could process. The boy from the other team ─someone with a huge 20 written over their shirt─ had been serving excellent balls until now and this time he didn’t miss it. He hit the ball hard and you could only see Han to the floor, the ball hitting it before he could get there and rebounding to fly quickly to the corner.

    15/14.

    Holy shit.

    You saw Han stiffing on the floor, punching it angrily before getting up, throwing a look in your way, watching his father with a sad mien. You frowned, trying to yell the loudest you could to keep him focused but he didn’t seem to listen, lowering his head and pursing his lips as he had already lost. Everyone went silent, expecting the next serving.

    “You can do it, Han!” Paris screamed, wobbling her glove in the air. You saw him scoff, giving a small smile but not averting his eyes from the Twenty-Guy, who once more made an incredible hit. Minho was the one who received it this time in a dig, screaming something you couldn’t understand as a tall teammate of his jumped like he was a damn building, spiking the ball for dear life.

    Their Libero got it, diving beautifully to the ground as the setter got the ball, adjusting it for their hitter to spike it back. The block was immediate, and you almost cheered for the point you would get before the setter threw himself to the ground, setting it to someone else to hit. Those bloody piece of shit! Why couldn’t they miss the ball?

   The ball flew back and forth as the rally went on. You stretched your neck to have a better view, eyes trailing to both sides of the court anxiously. Their setter was a mean human being. He jumped, ready to set the ball to someone else to hit, except he didn’t. He hit the ball to your side of the court, startling everyone. Han was the first to react, trained eyes connecting to the ball.

    Then he hesitated.

    You saw him diving, body colliding to the floor harshly, hand fisted and prepared to save that ball. A half-second too late. The ball hit the floor, right on the spot his hands rested now, and rebounded, announcing the last results.

    16/14.

    Their win.

    As the other team cheered, hugging each other and running around the court ─ jumping and inciting their fans to cheer along with them ─, your team held their heads, sitting to the ground. Han laid there, face to the ground before his arm went to serve as a pillow to his forehead, his body totally mushy to the floor, completely devasted. He glanced at his father─ eyes holding a storm, concern dripping from them─ before he rolled and faced the roof, cupping his face in distress.

     You could feel the disappointment from everyone to your side of the crowd, sitting back to your seat to sigh defeated. Han’s father seemed really sad about their loss, eyes worried and focused solely on his son, clearly concerned with how he was taking it. Paris lowered her hand, pouting as she held back her tears, her other hand quickly wiping them away from her cheeks, eyes focused on Han laid down on the floor. Hyunjin seemed alright, of course, since he wasn’t friends with him, although he seemed somewhat bad about the situation.    

    “Now what?” He asked out of nowhere, and you looked at him tiredly.

    “Now we wait for him and try to cheer him up, I guess” You shrugged, looking at Paris.

    “We should go there… Can we go there?” She sobbed, rubbing her nose to the point it got red. You watched her sympathetically.

    “I don’t think so” You admitted, looking at Han’s father “Do you want to go there?” You suggested, and he shook his head slowly, seeming in deep thought.

   “I think I’m heading home… He told me he was going to party after the match” He looked at you, pursing his lips “I think he’ll be embarrassed to talk to me right now… Maybe I should just go home?” He didn’t seem so sure about it, and before you could say anything, Paris held his shoulder, squeezing it.

   “We’ll cheer him up, Sir” She promised, forcing a smile “You should go home, I think he wouldn’t want to show himself in front of you with that loss” He nodded, looking back at the court, sighing.

   “Could you tell him I’m proud? It doesn’t matter if he couldn’t win this one… They played well, he did the best he could” He turned back to you, shrugging “I can make some phone calls… Try to get him somewhere…” He started rambling, and this time you stood up to take his hand on yours.

   “Let it all to us, we’ll take care of it” You promised, and he nodded, getting up to head out. You sighed heavily, looking at both of your friends in wonder “So… How will we take care of him?” You asked worried, and Paris shot a look to Hyunjin immediately.

   “You promised us a dinner” She pointed out “Let’s make it a party” She suggested, getting a scoff from Hyunjin.

   “What do you guys expect me to do? Take him under my roof or something?” He laughed it off but neither of you laughed along with him.

                                                                  ////

    Han fell to the couch with a loud thud, arm hanging in the air.

    “He didn’t even bother!” He slurred, trying to lift his head from the couch and failing completely with a small thump sounding when he hit the armrest again “Jus’ lemme on the floor to run away” He whined, raising his arm to bring the drink back to his lips “Whada fuck? Who drank it?” He furrowed his brows as the lonely drop of alcohol got to his tongue, dropping the bottle to the floor.

    You turned your head to Hyunjin, watching as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, clearly annoyed by a drunk man on his couch, complaining all night long about his father leaving him behind on the court’s floor. Both of you had listened to this rant on a loop for at least fifteen minutes for now and neither of you could handle it anymore. You fixed your eyes in the rolling bottle for a second, wondering why you had to decide to cheer Han with drinks.

    “Who drank what?” Paris asked confused, raising her head off the ground, where she laid completely wasted, eyes glossy and face flushed. She paused, getting all giddy before letting a gurgle out, looking at Han from the corner of her eyes and grinning teasingly “Champ” She said out of nowhere, breaking out into a fit of giggles.

    Great.

    “Okay… Why exactly did I let you bring your friends here?” Chan asked from behind, sat down on the stool with his legs crossed, a glass in his hand. He gulped whatever he was drinking, eyes judging Paris and Han for a brief moment before turning again to you.

    “I didn’t think they would get this drunk” You admitted and this time Hyunjin scoffed, getting up from the floor, where he previously sat cross-legged, grimacing at your wasted friends. He dusted his clothes; picking up a bottle from the coffee table and drinking it in one go, letting a satisfied sigh leave his lips.

    “I swear to god, if he says his father left him on the ground once more, I’ll throw this shit to his head” He warned, bouncing the empty bottle in the air. Hyunjin wasn’t drunk but you couldn’t doubt that he would do it by now… You felt the urge yourself to just hit Han and let him sleep, shutting him up for the night.

    “He left you?” Paris asked, looking at Hyunjin full of pity, which was enough to trigger Han once again. You let a heavy sigh, grabbing Hyunjin’s wrist just to be sure, looking at him in utter defeat. He lowered his eyes to you, ignoring Paris, who didn’t seem to understand a thing around her, and fixing his gaze on you for a second.

    “Why did you buy so much alcohol?” He asked tiredly, rubbing his temple with his free hand, averting his eyes to Han once again, who couldn’t stop whining about his father.

    “Because you were the one paying” You answered sincerely, and he seemed to find it funny because he let a chuckle, nodding his head in amusement.

    “Of course” He agreed, watching the empty bottles on the floor “You’ll help cleaning up this shit” He threatened, which made you roll your eyes. Of course, you would help to clean everything up. Who did he take you for?

   “If you pay me enough I can just hit him in the head and we can let him sleep on the couch” Chan suggested, grunting, resting his glass on the island before pressing his palm against his eyes as if he was with a horrible headache “You know what? I could do it for free” He changed his mind, looking at Han in deep displeasure.

    “Should we just let them here? We could just sleep” You suggested, noticing how Paris got her eyes closed for a little bit too long before shooting them open, startled with her drowsiness “It would be way more simple” You pleaded, and Hyunjin raised his brow at you.

    “What if they fuck on my couch?” You looked at him like he had grown a third head, grimacing and raising your shoulders in question, as he shrugged “Actually, I wouldn’t mind at all… If it means I won’t hear about that fucking floor again, I’m more than up to it” He gave up, his free hand grabbing the bottle he was still holding and placing it on the coffee table again.

   This particular gesture made you realize you were still grabbing his wrist but before you could let him go, he twisted his wrist to grab your hand and pull you up. The motion was sudden enough to startle you, and you felt yourself bumping into him suddenly, way too close to him to feel comfortable. You cleared your throat, getting one step behind, glancing at Chan who chuckled at the scene.

    “I’m more worried about you fucking on my couch” He teased, watching as Hyunjin slowly let go of your hand, calm enough to sneer at him, rolling his eyes.

    “Yeah, because helping someone off of the ground is like the hottest foreplay I know” He smiled obnoxiously to Chan, who laughed at him. You rolled your eyes, curving to pick up some bottles from the floor. It would be better if your drunken buddies could not trip over rolling glass and die while you slept peacefully.

    “Well, I guess it’s fine…” Chan mused “I mean, we have a whining bitch and a drunken woman… What are the chances they would fuck out of nowhere? I’d guess up to zero” He reasoned, looking at Paris almost asleep on the floor, snoring softly. Han was still rambling something, apparently sleepless, but you couldn’t care less about what he was saying right now.

    “Let’s put a blanket on the floor so she can sleep comfortably” Hyunjin suggested, not waiting for any of you to answer, heading to his own room. Chan looked at you, raising his brow in pleased surprise.

    “They seem to be getting along quite well” He mentioned, and you nodded at him. Hyunjin and Paris seemed to click along these two weeks to prepare your assignment, getting way closer than you expected them to be. You watched Hyunjin coming back with a bunch of blankets, making an improvised bed beside the TV, far enough from the couch so Han wouldn’t step on Paris at night.

   “Go there” Hyunjin muttered to Paris, nudging her with his foot. She didn’t move an inch, nuzzling in herself, making Hyunjin sigh tired “I won’t let them drink ever again” He whined, pushing her with his foot, rolling her on the floor until she reached the fluff blankets. She let a satisfied sigh, curling up there like a baby, and you smiled fondly at her.

    “She’s cute” You said softly, looking at her.

    Paris was just so soft and loving… You couldn’t help but be grateful for your friendship. She helped you a lot through the years, even though you knew it wasn’t enough to really heal you, it was good to know you had someone as close as her. Of course, you also had Chan, your best friend, and someone who helped you out through so many things in your life that you couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live without him.

    Still, you needed a psychologist.

    If all those discussions you had with Paris and Hyunjin thought you something, it was that you needed help. Real help. Not the kind friends could give. You needed professional help to really deal with all the things you needed to get through. All the things that held you back for so long. You also needed money, so it wasn’t really an easy task.

    Your train of thoughts was interrupted by another whine.

    “We lost it and it’s all my fault” Han slurred again, trying to turn around on the couch, so he would be laying on his side, but struggling to do so. You chuckled, trying to decide if you should help him out, give up on him, or just laugh at your drunken friend. You opted for the first, walking to the couch and helping him to get in a comfortable position.

    “It’s not your fault” You reassured him, ruffling his hair softly before stuffing a pillow under his head. He hummed, closing his eyes and nuzzling on the couch.

    “I’d have saved it” He slurred, too sleepy to understand what he was saying. You patted his head twice before finally walking away, going to stand beside Chan.

   “Let’s just go to sleep or he’ll begin to loop this” Hyunjin pleaded, leading the way. You glanced one last time at both of them, smiling as you walked through the hall. Chan opened his door, and before you could enter his room, Hyunjin raised his brow “Do you want to sleep here? I can sleep with Chan” He suggested, and this made you laugh, exchanging a look with Chan.

   “Please, it’s not like we never slept together before” You joked, nudging Chan. If one thing, what you did the most through your high school life as Chan’s friend was to sleep in the same room with him, as you didn’t have much room at your place. He laughed along with you, getting in his room.

   “He’s feeling lonely ‘cause he doesn’t have a pretty girl to sleep with tonight” He nudged you back, making you snort. You followed him to his room, throwing Hyunjin a sympathetic smile.

   “You don’t have it eit—“ He began to say, choking on his words as he glanced at your deadpan features, rubbing the back of his neck before grinning apologetically “Sorry, it was out of habit” You rolled your eyes, nodding at him.

    “You’re lucky I’m sleepy enough to let it slide” You smirked, closing the door behind you. Chan walked to his wardrobe, getting some blankets that he carefully put on the ground, letting a thick layer of fluff fabric on the floor before looking at you.

    “You’re taking the bed?” Chan asked, and you shrugged, not minding wherever you would sleep. He rolled his eyes, lying on the floor, letting you just one option. You made your way to bed, laying down and sighing relieved.

    “I can’t believe it’s finally silent” You smiled, satisfied, before both of you fell asleep.